#More than a year ago I said that crazy and insane thing that sexuality is about sex not gender

[munsonfamilyband]

My current obsession for Steve having his sexuality crisis in canon doesn’t involve the Robin speech. I love Robin, I am Robin, but she deserves rest, god dammit. And I have come up with a great way for her to get her rest and to be a supportive friend.

————————-

Steve and her are having movie night (is this post Eddie, is this pre Eddie, doesn’t really matter but because I love steddie I am doing post Eddie) and Steve got to pick so they’re watching Grease.

Robin hates Grease, even if the music is fun, she just finds it tacky and cliche. She won’t deny the appeal of Sandy’s leather outift at the end though.

Steve loves Grease. The music is fun and since he met Robin she’s been slowly, and very subtly, pushing him to allow himself to enjoy things that his father forced him to hate. (Am I including my Steve likes make up headcanon in this? Absolutely.) She’s gone shopping with him and encouraged him to try on the sweaters in softer colors he always stares at but never touches. He starts growing out his hair. Robin has been a breath of fresh air since they met and she has always pushed him without making it obvious so he doesn’t panic.

The next opportunity for her brand of eye opening comes when they get to Greased Lightning. They’re both pretty tipsy and Steve randomly blurts out. “Wow he’s hot.” Robin actual chokes on her mouth full of popcorn and has to chug her beer to wash it down.

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve looks at Robin with a frown, raising an eyebrow.

“What? I said he was hot, because he is.”

“Steve that’s- since when do you notice attractive men?” He’s still frowning at her, as if she’s asking completely ridiculous questions

“I mean, always? It’s just something guys do, they can recognize when a guy is hot and whatever.” Robin just blinks, then blinks again before nodding to herself. She knows what she has to do, so she says okay and they go back to watching the movie.

The next time she’s at Steve’s she brings the magazine she had bought in Chicago a couple years ago. She had found this tiny store that sold a ton of gay media and it was like being in heaven. This particular magazine had a lot of quotes from people about their experiences growing up queer and she knows for a fact that there is one story in there that should shake something loose in Steve. So she leaves the magazine on his bed when she goes to steal a sweater from him. Robin hears nothing for two days after that when at 11:30 at night she hears the pinging of rocks at her window. Rolling her eyes, she gets up and opens the window, and then sure enough in pops Steve a moment later, clambering his way inside her bedroom.

“I think I might like guys. I um… actually, I think I might like Eddie? Which might be why I thought John Travolta was so hot suddenly, because sure I’ve thought he was good looking but not like crazy insane hot before. Then suddenly we’re watching Grease and Danny Zuko is all kinds of hot, and then I found this magazine, I think you left it at mine accidentally. But it had all these stories and there was this one guy who said he had always noticed attractive men growing up but he thought that was just what all guys thought, he liked girls so he wasn’t gay, but then he met a particular guy and they ended up kissing and he realized that he maybe liked boys more than he should and when he asked someone else about guys noticing attractive men they said that is not what straight guys do and he realized that he wasn’t straight at all. And then I started thinking because that’s how I’ve always felt, right? But I didn’t think I was gay, but apparently you can actually like both so I don’t have to be gay to like guys, and then I started thinking about Grease which made me think about Eddie and, oh god, Robin, I think I might be in love with him?”

She knew the magazine would help, but not this much. She also had never heard Steve speak so much at once, they had clearly been spending too much time together if he was rambling like that.

“Okay, Steve, take a deep breath. Are you coming out to me right now?” He stops his frantic pacing that he had started as soon as her window was shut, staring at her for a second before collapsing on the bed next to her.

“I think so? The magazine said bi-bicy-bisen-“

“Bisexual?” Steve snaps and points at her with a grin.

“Yeah, that! I didn’t know that was even a thing! It just… it feels like everything makes a little more sense to me, y’know?” She smiled, ruffling his hair.

“And the Eddie thing?” Robin cackles when Steve flushes bright red.

“Shut up! I actually think I might be in love with him and I don’t know what to do. Like, I know he’s gay but I don’t know if he likes me.”

“Steve, he has been flirting with you since you two met in March.”

“What?!??” She dissolves into giggles and they spend the night together, talking about every interaction he’s ever had with Eddie.

A week has barely gone by when Steve comes into work, his hair a mess, with a giant smile and his neck covered in bruises.

“I think I have a boyfriend.” Robin just collapses into a fit of laughter. She’s so glad the magazine trick worked because she’s never seen Steve this happy.

[yaesnovels]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ capture you | tartaglia

contains ; fembodied!reader / no pronouns used ; called mommy once (as a joke) ; switch!reader & ajax ; no protection mentioned ; pet names (sweetheart, my love, baby) ; oral (fem receiving) ; fingering (both receiving) ; recording and watching it ; overstimulation ; creampie ; dirty talk ; slight dacryphilia ?

wc ; 3.3k

requests open ! check out my promptlist!

the sexual tension whenever you and ajax were streaming always has been high. 

everyone on social media would always talk about this. whenever you two decided to do a stream together, they would ask you if you were dating. always, you would tell the people asking that, no, you were only two really good friends.

“we‘ve been streaming for the past four hours“, ajax yawned. “i think we should wrap up soon, no?”

“nahh, i‘m not tired yet“, you replied, rolling your eyes over the camera. “i can play around like this all day, son.”

“well i—”, ajax started to reply, as his brain finally processed what you just called him. “oh, shut the fuck up. don‘t ever fucking call me that again.” you guys would constantly cuss at each other— it was normal for the both of you now and neither would feel offended over it, especially when you were on stream. 

“what are you going to do about it, son?”, you smirked. the viewers seemed to like that, comments and a couple of pings from the small donations were just flowing in. “you’re on your side of the camera and i am on mine. what are you going to do about it?”

“oh, you know exactly what i’m going to do about it, sweetheart.”

ajax chuckled, his laugh was rather deep as he shook his head in disbelief. you usually knew better than to talk back to him, where was this confidence suddenly coming from?

“don’t play around with me. and don’t call me that shit ever again. unless… do you have a mommy kink or something, mommy?”, he said, the moment you looked into his eyes on your screen you know you’re fucked. literally. the way he called you mommy but at the same time was eyeing you. exactly what you were hoping for. you really needed him to fuck you stupid for a few days now but you couldn’t think of how to initiate it. so, the easiest way was to rile him up until he snaps himself. 

once again, the chat went insane as he called you mommy. comments were flowing in and you could barely follow it. this was one of the moments where people liked to consider you two were dating.

“me? having a mommy kink? didn’t you recently say that you would love to have someone tease you until you’re crying?” you knew he did mention something like that to you, though you weren’t sure if it was on one of your countless streams together or off stream when you were just cuddling after an intense session in bed. 

the chat still went batshit crazy about it, though no one suspected a thing about this one. they knew how ajax was at times, this was no different from his usual self. 

you two chatted a little bit longer and thanked the chat for the nice stream before both of you ended your stream. 

“‘what am i going to do about it?’ huh? i want my partner to tease me until i’m crying?”, he startled you as he suddenly appeared behind you, your camera still on and showing him right behind you on your screen. ajax brushed your hair away from your neck, softly caressing the soft skin before he leaned down a little and planted a soft kiss right under your ear. “you know exactly what i will do about it, darling, don’t you?” 

now, the thing with you and ajax was, no one knew you two were living together, let alone dating, except for a few close friends of yours. especially your viewers just thought you were very close friends– which was the case up until around a year ago, when you ended up meeting multiple times and things quickly turned into more.

one hookup turning into a date, another one and suddenly you were admitting your feelings to him.

you just never bothered to tell anyone you were dating. to be honest, you liked the secrecy and putting up an act in front of people, just to go to your bed and cuddle– or have the most insane fuck of your life. 

“mhm, i do, baby, i do. i just love to see you all riled up”, you replied, closing your eyes at the sweet kisses he pampered on your skin. he tsked in disappointment, making you open your eyes and look at him on the screen, where he was looking at you intensely. just in the way made you shiver and feel your heart racing, excited of how he was going to fuck you tonight, right on the bed behind your chair. 

—

shortly after and despite his oh, so confident self during the stream, he was the one laying on his back, with a long pillow under his hips for him to grab on. he was whining and moaning out loudly and desperately as you moved your hand up and down his cock fast while you had two fingers stretching out his hole, fingering him. he was so far gone that all he could babble was your name. his entire body was twitching in pleasure, especially after that first orgasm. 

“shh, not so loud, baby, you’re going to disturb the neighbors”, you said to him with a condescending tone, you were talking to him so sweetly and with a big smile on your lips. ajax rolled his eyes back, he never was one who could easily handle overstimulation and your sweet voice wasn’t helping him at all. 

“shut up”, he moaned, grabbing the sheets tightly as he felt his orgasm wash over him, he was shaking so much and your hand and even sleeves were covered in his cum. you slowed down your fingers’ movements, having him ride out the last few moments of his release before you pulled your fingers out. 

ajax’ cheeks were completely red, you could even see a few drops of tears on them and he was still trembling. just as he was fantasizing about it once. 

“oh, you are absolutely in for it now, sweetheart”, he breathed out, his voice was a little shaky but he looked so adorable right now. the little giggle you both let out warmed your heart; despite him trying to act oh, so pissed off with you. he just needed a few more moments. 

you decided to lay down on the pillows waiting for him to come down from his high. there you noticed how the camera and your pc’s screen was still on and you two were on there, though the camera was not recording. “babe?”, you said, looking at him with a grin. when he turned his head towards you, finally calm again, you pointed at your screen and the camera. he smirked and nodded, understanding what you meant. you grinned in excitement as you quickly got up and turned on the camera for recording, you just quickly adjusted it’s view to have it turned perfectly at you two.

now, not only were you two relatively successful streamers on twitch, you both also would regularly post videos of you fucking on a secret account on twitter. you would always make sure your faces weren’t visible or blurred out. 

the secrecy was something both you and ajax enjoyed way too much– be it about being a couple or having a secret nsfw account– it was always so much fun for you two to experiment the limits you could share online without being recognized. 

once you were back on the bed, you tried your best to adjust the other camera on the nightstand that would be able to capture your reactions of how he fucked you deeply and hard. twitter might not see those, but it was always nice for the both of you to keep those hidden in your folders on your pc for your personal enjoyment. 

he was all over you, grinding his hips against yours as you started making out. he was kissing you deeply as you had your arms wrapped around him, he was softly biting your bottom lip, making you both smile a little. 

it didn’t take him too long until he had your clothes off and thrown away somewhere in the room and was leaning over you, softly circling your clit with two of his fingers before he thrusted them up into your cunt. 

your eyes widened when he suddenly grabbed your thigh with his other hand and pushed your legs further apart. 

you knew you had him riled up to the point you both will probably pass out from overstimulation once he’s done with you. you had been teasing him multiple times a day for the past four days because you knew exactly what buttons to push to piss him off completely. 

you just did not expect him to go absolutely feral on you. 

the pace of his fingers inside of you was fast, the soft whines you let out were like music to his ears. while at it, he slowly started to kiss down on your body, especially focusing on your tits, making you tremble when he nipped on your one nipple. once his lips reached your belly and shortly after your clit, he just couldn’t help himself but to dive in. 

“oh, you taste so good, sweetheart”, he murmured. ajax pulled out his finger and kept your legs wide open with a tight grip on your thighs while he started lapping up your cunt. “can’t ever… get enough of you.”

your back arched as he smoothly worked you up close to your first orgasm of the night. when you looked down on your boyfriend, stroking through his hair softly, you felt him smile against your folds while he continued lapping up your juices, before he looked up for a second. 

the short moment of eye contact made you giggle, his chin was glistening in your slick and he didn’t say anything before diving back in. he was absolutely obsessed with your taste on his tongue that he just couldn’t stop. 

“i’m going to cum, oh, god, i’m going to cum”, you started blurting out as if it was a mantra, he was getting even faster with his rough tracing of his tongue, slipping a finger into your cunt that had you seeing stars. your body tensed up when you finally came and he had your hips stuttering uncontrollably. 

you choked out a sob when he didn’t stop, the overstimulation quickly kicking in and you were trying to close your legs which was a lot harder than expected, considering he was gripping your thighs tightly to keep them open. he got you to the point where you already started begging for him to just finally fuck you and who was he not to oblige? 

ajax pressed one last kiss on your clit before he wiped off the remainings of your cum and slick from his chin and peppered soft kisses all over your body before he was kissing your lips again. he pulled your body up a little to have the camera’s angle shoot right at his hips against yours. 

just as you were distracted from your heavy makeout, he pushed his cock in, slowly at first because he wanted to make sure not to hurt you in any way. letting go from the kiss to watch your reaction, he just tried to calm you down from the initial stretch. 

once you gave him a little sign that you were feeling good for him to move, he couldn’t help himself but lose his composure. he just couldn’t help himself but fuck you hard, leaning down to kiss you again and muffle some of the loud moans you were letting out. 

he set a merciless rhythm, and from the way he ate you out just a few moments ago, you couldn’t help but try to push him away from the oversensitivity. ajax didn’t like that, though, grabbing your arm and pinning it down against the comfort of your pillows. 

“don’t you dare”, he grunted, “i’m sick of your little acts of trying to be in fucking control.”

you knew he wasn’t meaning it, he never did. in fact, each time he said this, the very next day you’d have him asking, no, begging, you how needy he is and that he needs to eat you out for his own pleasure. he would tell you how fucking hard he was just by thinking of your night before. he would be so whiny. he would tell how good he would fuck you if you let him. 

and he would. 

but the way his voice sounded when he was fucking you right now, franticly, made you clench around him tightly. 

“oh, you like that, sweetheart, don’t you?”, he mumbled with a small smile, pulling out and having you cry out in displeasure. he softly brushed your clit with his thumb and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

he moved your body to turn around, you were feeling so boneless already that you couldn’t even move anymore. a quick, yet slightly hard slap on your ass had you gasp out in surprise and you tried your best to turn around. his hands were quickly back on your body and he quickly filled you up once again, his pace was as quick as before when he was chasing his release. 

“please, please, please”, you choked out a sob when you felt his hips stuttering and he came inside you with one last thrust. his eyes rolled back in pleasure and yet, he couldn’t stop himself. despite the fact he was so crazily sensitive, he was so obsessed with how tight you were around him and how good you felt. 

just as you were about to come around him, he slowed down. you looked at him in disbelief, you just couldn’t believe he would edge you. “why?”, you mumbled, you felt him brush over your cheek. 

“you know exactly why, my love”, he replied before he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

it took you a short moment to regain power over your body and you tried to turn you both around. once you were seated on his lap, you didn’t hesitate to sink down on him, immediately sobbing out in pleasure. 

ajax, on the other hand, enjoyed the show; the way you were arching your back as you were riding him. he was watching your tits bounce from how quickly you were trying to ride him, and he just couldn’t help himself but softly pinch your nipples to add onto your sensitivity. you cried out in frustration, slumping down on his chest and begging him to make you come. 

“aww, baby, you are so adorable”, he softly brushed his hand through your hair. “you’re doing so good for me. keep on begging for me, my love.” you gasped out as all energy had left your body and he thrusted up into you, arms tightly around your body as he finally had you come, your entire body was shaking intensely and you just couldn’t help but moan out his name like a mantra. 

“ajax”, you mumbled, completely boneless, sensitive and having no energy in your limbs to move. “please.” 

“still want more, baby?”, he cooed, lifting your head a little to have you look into his eyes, the intense gaze he gave you made you twitch around him. “you know what i want to hear. do that simple thing for me, and i’m all yours.”

“i don’t care what you do, but please just fuck me. fuck me until i beg you to stop but don’t. fuck me until i pass out. i really, really need this, ajax, please.” 

immediately after he turned you both around again, softly caressing your cheek when you cried out to his dick entering you again, hard. he mumbled sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down from your hectic begging; “shh, sweetheart, i’m all yours. i’m not going anywhere. i’ll fuck you so good, all you will remember is me and my name and you won’t be able to feel anything but me inside of you.” 

ajax quickly started pounding into you, your whines and moans were absolutely delightful for him to listen to– the sounds you made riled him up even more than before and his thrusts became erratic quickly. he was already so close to come inside you once again, though, this time, he really just wanted to focus on your pleasure than his own. 

all he wanted was to be as close as possible to you, hooking your leg around his waist. that was his intention all along, just feel you as close as physically possible. and torture you until you fully submit to him. 

“just like that, baby, come for me. i will come inside if you do, sweetheart. i will fill you up to the brim until my cum is leaking for your hole, darling”, he whispered into your ear, feeling how you were clenching around him like crazy before you finally came around him, everything went white for you as you finally felt him come inside again. you felt so full of him, he continued his thrusts for a few moments before he stopped, absolutely spent. 

“you did so well for me, my love, shh, relax, i’m here”, he whispered, trying to calm you down from your shaking and sobbing of pleasure. “you’re okay, you’re doing so good for me.”

there were so many tears running down your cheeks, but they were all from the overstimulation and ajax couldn’t help but just watch them. he always had a thing for your pretty tears that he caused when fucking you over and over. 

you hid your face at his neck, still a few soft sobs escaping your lips, despite finally calming down again. you felt so exhausted and you knew you wouldn’t be able to move even an inch right now. 

“shh… just sleep. i’ll take care of you, baby”, he promised, turning off the camera on the night shelf and finally pulling out of you, making you whine out softly. “shh. you’re okay, i will clean you up, just sleep.”

you fell asleep almost immediately after. ajax did as he promised and cleaned you up, also turning off the camera on your pc before he finally went back to the bed and cuddled up against you. shortly after, he also fell asleep contently. 

—

“oh, god, i can’t feel my legs”, you whined when you tried to get up from your bed, ajax was only laughing next to you. “shut up, you did this to me.” 

“well, i did what you asked me to, sweetheart”, he replied. “‘fuck me until i beg you to stop but don’t. fuck me until i pass out.’” you turned around to him before you slapped him over which he kept on laughing. 

“just shut up”, you pouted, finally getting up from the bed and going to your closet to put on fresh clothes. “wanna watch what we did last night?”, you grinned. ajax nodded getting up to put on some shorts quickly before he sat down on your chair and motioning for you to sit down on his lap. he started the video, though he was more focusing on how you reacted on your own recorded porn. 

“god, you’re so hot when you get pissed off with me”, you mumbled, watching his deep gaze on your body when you were trying to push him away when you felt too sensitive. “never realized how fucking intense you look at me when you fuck me.” 

“that’s because you’re too beautiful, my love”, he smirked at how shy you got immediately after he said this. “especially when you’re under me, letting out those cute little noises and making those adorable faces when i fuck you hard.” 

“shush, you’re making me want even more”, you whined. 

“even more, sweetheart? i thought i had fucked you thoroughly last night. and you know what’s even better? i didn’t even get to use the toys”, he whispered, his voice deep in your ear. ajax smirked when he felt you shift around on his lap. “don’t worry, i won’t tease you much tonight. but you better prepare yourself, sweetheart. i won’t go easy on you after watching and editing this.”

[neotrances]

i genuinely think black slavery in the new world is one of the most horrific almost incomprehensible crimes against humanity to happen to human beings in all of human history i can't think of anything else that was worse taking into account all the different layers of suffering and brutality and sadness and cruelty and the length of time and scope of the atrocity. it's actually hard to wrap your mind around even with the best intentions. but the world is so incredibly brainwashed to downplay it it is INSANE. I GET SO ANGRY SOMETIMES LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. people are so conditioned to minimize it while giving other crimes against humanity plenty of lip service. and the appreciation for other peoples suffering is good don't get me wrong but the refusal to keep that energy when encountering slavery in the americas possibly the worst of the worst human atrocities to ever happen. like this was the same level of suffering and brutality of the Holocaust if not more so except going on for hundreds of years. I feel bad making that comparison but I also feel it is SO needed to break through the conditioning. like please everyone just think. that person asking how there could be generational trauma if it happened "so long ago", literally only ended what 150 years ago and went on for like 400 years. with civil rights being less than 50 years old. not only is the generational trauma still fresh but the generational legacy to dehumanize black people is still fresh because barely any progress has truly happened in the past 50 years due to this broken way white people refuse to face what really happened and cling to victim blaming like a drug. you still hear people claim slavery wasn't that bad because some enslavers were not as sadistic as others. i want to vomit. every qanon conspiracy about abused and trafficked children for sexual slavery already happened except somehow worse it was in plain daylight and legal, white slavers were running an inhuman mad max post apocalyptic fucking barbaric wasteland. this was already the apocalypse. these survivors are still trying to rebuild. i know you know all this sorry im just saying like we see it we really do and they make you feel crazy for being the one who can see what others illogically reject because it's too sacreligious to the religion of nationalism. the funny thing is facts don't care about white peoples feelings. slavery is the worst thing any human being has ever gone through and everything we understand scientifically about psychology tells us the ancestors should still be struggling immensely and should still be deep in the mire of residual abuse and healing, especially if they continue to be gaslit at large about what happened. white people who want to continue deny the simple facts of our reality and blame the victims are worthless

cosigned bc this was some real shitu just said

[book51ut]

TW: abuse/ sexual assault

Ok im chronically on TikTok and very invested in the Brooke/ Clinton Kane thing for more than just spectatorship reasons. First of all all of the people who have moved from “Brooke’s side” to “Clinton’s side” after he posted his 20 something part story I am so envious of because they have never been in an abusive relationship. When I was 16 I was in an abusive relationship and EVERYTHING that happened echos exactly what it was like for me, it is textbook abuse. Ugh there’s so much I want to say this is going to be disorganized.

I think that part of the reason that people don’t come forward with abuse is because they are ashamed of the way they acted in response to their abuse. Crazy behavior begets crazy behavior, and when someone is psychologically abusing and torturing you and you just take it, you’re not in the best headspace and you often say and do things that are not the nicest, kindest, most responsible ways to act or respond. And it’s embarrassing. Especially if you’re not a narcissist and have a soul and empathy like most survivors of abuse do (and most abusers lack). Abusers prey on low self esteem and they cause you to act in ways that lower your self esteem. I’ve said cruel things, done cruel things. I’m not proud of it. But as I’ve gotten older and dealt with the trauma of that relationship and the impact it still has on me today, I’ve realized that it is nearly impossible to respond to insanity with clarity. I’m not a saint, above it all. I’m a human being who was being abused. I responded in kind. That doesn’t mean that it was just “toxic all around” or that I was “equally as abusive.” I think people say things like that when victims/survivors of abuse don’t respond to it “perfectly.” But all that does is shift some of the blame from the victim to the survivor.

The second thing is like a lot of people don’t talk about abuse because it can be REALLY hard to realize that abuse is happening. It is small things, even individual phrases, that compound and create something sinister. And it can take years to process and unpack it all. I didn’t realize I was sexually assaulted until 3 years after, when I woke up and randomly just remembered it. I know The Body Keeps the Score is such a cliche book but it literally does. Your body makes you forget things. Part of the reason I don’t talk more about the abuse I endured is because I have forgotten, remembered, and reforgotten it. Trauma fucks with your memory. Brooke doesn’t remembered that he got stopped by the cops going to vs from Joshua Tree. And all of a sudden not remembering that detail throws suspicion on her claim. That’s fucking trauma. Manipulators are especially good at pointing those inconsistencies out, shifting the blame off of them, and furthering your OWN feeling of insecurity and feelings of “craziness” that your abuser planted in your head.

I didn’t watch his million part thing because it was so triggering for me. It reminded me SO much of what I experienced 7 years ago, with similar wording. It is really truly amazing how many women go through TEXTBOOK emotional abuse. This is something I only learned during this seven year journey of healing. This was something that was pointed out online but it is really so true- some many women experience this abuse and so many people start to “change sides” because they just don’t realize how common this truly is. And they don’t realize how common this truly is because women are shamed and discouraged from sharing their stories. They are called gossips, dramatic, obsessed, and “yappers.” Men discourage women from forming these networks by pitting us against each other with these words and the connotations behind them.

I’m really only scratching the surface on these thoughts, but obviously my commentary on this has no real practical value.

I hope Brooke is able to find some peace, and that Clinton rots in hell for abusing these women and sending his mother to an early grave.

[joy-drops]

this mf long so don't tell me i didn't warn u

been in a rut for over a year

something something autistic burnout

idk the cause or the solution

just trying to survive each day as best i can

easier said than done when everything that brings me joy (ha) is behind a pay wall

that's capitalism baby~

found out fauna is going to the only anime convention i can attend on a reasonable budget.... but im already so broke....

I'd shell out the cash (debt) if it meant guaranteeing a spot at the meet and greet but they might not release info until too late when plane tickets are unaffordable ;_;

i wanna look forward to something because sustaining my sanity on retail therapy and getting high definitely is losing its effectiveness

brain always returns to the loneliness. i know its crippling but how much of my struggle is from that and how much is from my disability... they're both invisible which makes it hard to tell

would having a partner help that much? my gut tells me yes since ill have motivation to live if i have someone to share existence with but that feels like putting all my eggs in one basket and setting myself up for an unhealthy relationship

i like to think i won't fall down that path of toxic codependency like i have in the past tho im not crazy confident based on my track record

Which reminds me I've realized how appealing polyamory sounds to me but I'm terrible in groups I feel like I'd be overwhelmed with more than 3 (including myself) tho who knows what can happen

REGARDLESS i guess i gotta talk to people and make friends since i am incapable of socializing with the intention of dating (trust issues yippee)

i wish i had a crush at the very least. i bring this up often but i fucking miss the feeling of legitimate interest and attraction towards someone

How do I meet someone, become comfortable enough with them, and ultimately find a partnership that satisfies my insane desires???? maybe I'm putting the cart before the horse? Tackling too much at once? Something like that...

Imma be real the only reason I'm active on here is another mechanism to cope with this loneliness (akin to listening to asmr for instant happy brain juice + with the added benefit of "putting myself out there")

My strange fantasy that I'll meet people on here like I did years ago and magically hit it off

AAAAAAUGGHHHHH how did I do it back then it seemed so easy what happened to my social skills (trauma, probably)

How is it I work 2 days a week and am still drained constantly? when will I be free from sleepy bitch syndrome? it's like I've been running on fumes for the past year WHEN WILL I HAVE THE WILL TO LIVE AGAIN

i miss having someone to talk to frequently about everything

i have my besties but unfortunately knowing there's no sexual or romantic attraction there makes it hard for me to get past these barriers?? Is that weird? I wanna be able to be intimate with someone and close but for me that's intrinsically tied to sex and romance. I'm overflowing with platonic friendships to the point where I had to cut off a bunch and leave many people I care about hanging because I simply have no energy to exist anymore

I've been doing my best each day but it only gets harder

The only thing I have energy for is getting high and living inside the fantasies my brain can muster as a means to cope with how lonely I am

I dream of being hugged, of someone touching me, of being accepted for all my flaws and reassured that my existence isn't shameful. I live for the day these might become reality

Since as long far back as highschool I've yearned for intimacy

Physical intimacy specifically since the most I've done is hold hands and lil cute things like that I CRAVE SKINSHIP UNLIKE ANYTHING ELSE

Anyway if anybody made it this far hi feel free to confess ur undying love 2 me

[returntosaturn271995]

April 18th: Totally fricken’ pissed

Trying to be funny but today is absolute bullshit. There’s a child screaming nearby like the world is ending and I appreciate his honesty. 

Things that shouldn’t have me enraged but somehow have me insane 

1.  ChicExecs took my 10 page presentation and never emailed me back. I added a negative review to Glassdoor (among many already there) and somehow that just made me angrier?

2. My interview (the third one) with Diff Eyewear was disorganized and I felt like the execs were sexist despite reaching out to me on Linkedin. GOD. Job hunting is bleak. 

3. Marvelous Mrs. Maisel hasn’t been good since season 2

4. Pretty sure Effexor withdrawal gives me vivid nightmares and night sweats. 

5. Now that Scott’s back in Austin he never reached out again. Which is weird because he basically wanted to marry me before. I guess pussy power is about proximity.  

6. James hasn’t reached out since our date last week. After all the stuff he said about being in to me. Maybe he’s just a bad texter because he’s always been like that but still. Am I allowed to be angry? Why does this make me like him more when two weeks ago I wasn’t even sure if I was that crazy about him?

7. I got drunk and sent my college roommate a nice text wishing her well on her engagement. Ugh I’m lame. No, she did not respond. 

8. Kate’s had a dude here for two days straight and he keeps using my and Hannah’s bathroom. He goes through toilet paper at an alarming rate. He’s either buidling a mummy costume or Kate’s dating another dude who lives in his van. 

9. Kara Godfrey. She’s just a shitty friend. And she reminds me of a lot of shitty friends. So I project a lot of anger at the idea of her. Sara sent us both a text today, which was actually very sweet of her. I’ll try and focus on that.

10. Is it me? Why does it feel like it’s me? And why hasn’t therapy made me less annoying yet? I know I’m supposed to FEEL better, but I would sure love to be treated better and somehow deemed lovable. All this anger is more perceived rejection than anything else. So maybe it’s a good sign it pisses me off. Because honestly I’ve been working hard on myself goddamnit. I’m having my back here. 

11. I was pretty shitty at yoga today. Maybe I’ll give it another shot now that I’ve hopefully journaled a chunk of my crazy out. 

12. Once James messaged me and said “Why are you acting like a stranger?”. When he was the one who hadn’t reached out after our first date. 

13. I still haven’t made the goddamn smoothie I promised myself I would make. I bought the ingredients Saturday. Maybe I’ll put on a murder podcast and TRY. 

14. I was reading about Joe Biden and his first wife died in a horrible car crash right before Christmas that also took the life of his daughter.  Yes, it was 50 years ago. Yes, I already new about this. But now I’m downloading his autobiography and just lamenting the fact the BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE AND DONALD TRUMP GETS TO DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS.

15. Made the mistake of thinking too long on my walk home about a guy who took sexual advantage of me in college and realized that’s why I can’t stand soccer outside of a Ted Lasso episode. Idk why this is under the Mrs. Maisel season and yoga, but it is. 

[psikonauti]

dayum no one on here will let anyone forget you are a terf!!

Sorry I'm not homophobic enough for you 😔😥😥😥

(glad you chose anon, I'd be embarrassed too, to take pride in being homophobic and calling random ppl names...on tumblr. like you fucking hurt me now, wow😳 will lose followers, may as well kms now ig 😂😂😂)

to whoever sees this ,no!! idc if you’re disappointed that i don’t hate lesbians and gays (which includes trans ppl per se but whatever ig), no!! i wouldn’t care less about your homophobic opinion ,no!! you don’t have to tell me you’re unfollowing,there are thousands of woke homophobes,i deliberately post this so you go,no!! i don’t give a shit how you’d kill or rape me ,just simply block me or report me for crimes against humanity or w/e 🙄 

[rcksmith]

Secret — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “For Five Hargreeves — can I get 97, 91 28 and 35 for a heavy smut? And 40 from fluff? If it isn’t too much trouble!”

“If it’s not too much trouble could I do 40,53 & 91 from the smut prompts for Five ty honey 💕”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

35. “Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”

40. “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

53. “Well, since you want to cum so badly, why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.

91. “guess i'll just have to cum in you then’

97. “You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

Fluff prompts:

40. “Come cuddle.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

Guys, I really understand who doesn’t feel comfortable reading or writing Five’s smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit heavy smut, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

It was one of those warm nights, which carry a searing and heaving sensation in the back, which had a malicious tone in the air, which stirs your body to choose bad decisions, making your hands itch and your heart racing for something...intense. It was one of those hours that passed midnight, that breath was heavy with the expectation of something extraordinary, that skin prickled just with the images in mind.

And you were in that state. Heart pounding heavily, yearning for something, caustic breathing, the environment with an energy of lust. Well, at least you was like that.

Five did not share your line of reasoning, or, if he were not oblivious to the malicious moonlight that rose in the sky, he was pretending very well. Sipping a margarita at the bar in the Hargreeves mansion, with calculations in front of him taking all his attention. Normally, you loved that he focused on his own things. But now... you were seething with something that only Five could placate.

It was a few months ago that you went from just being friends with his siblings to someone he fucked hard at night. The sexual energy between the two of you was very strong, and it was very easy to make bad decisions when the bad decision in question was so fucking hot.

Five Hargreeves did things to you. You wouldn't know how to explain it with clear phrases, but his gaze made you shiver, his body made a very specific part in the middle of your legs vibrate, and his voice and that self-centered smile... God!

It was no accident that you surrendered. You would have surrendered to that battle a million times.

“Five.” You sighed softly, taking a sip from your own drink. “Can't you do this tomorrow?”

“No. I am close to solving this.”

You controlled yourself not to roll your eyes. You were never the most needy type, especially with people as reserved as Five, but, damn it, you were on fire. It was logical that you could go out and choose someone to placate that, but that would trigger many things between Five and you. He hated that you were with someone else, even though he himself didn't assuming out to you.

It are a delicate situation, you were friends with all the Hargreeves siblings, and it would be a racket if they knew that their brother was fucking one of theys best friends.

The warm evening breeze came in through the window and collided with the chill of the drink running down your throat, awakening even more lustful anxieties.

“Five..." You purred, got up from the armchair on the counter, still behind Five and slid your hands over his shoulders "Maybe...you might want to finish this later.” You whispered at the foot of his ear.

Even without seeing him, you could feel that he was letting go of one of his arrogant and malicious smiles. Five rotated the seat to be face to face with you, his legs spread wider to accommodate you between them.

“And what are you going to do to distract me?” That same defiant, boastful voice.

But the look he gave you made a shock of desire reverberate through your body. Five wanted to play? Okay, you were going to play a game whit him.

“Why did you…” you leaned forward gently, resting one hand on his hot thigh, leaving your cleavage exposed “don't try guess?”

You realized that he had swallowed hard, even though his posture had remained unwavering. Five looked down at you cleavage, waist, and slightly elevated butt. You approached him a few more inches, your mouth a breath away, the heat of the bodies being shared without even touching.

Five could drive you crazy and screaming, but you knew it could also drive him insanity.

When you leaned over a little more and your mouths were so close to meet, you changed the direction and reached out with your free hand to pick up Five's margarita behind him. You straightened up and away, with a mischievous smile on your lips that revealed that everything had gone as planned.

Five semi closed his eyes at you, a fiery glow going through his eyes.

“Do you want to play with me?”His voice was low, dangerous “You know what happens to you when you challenge me.”

It was a warning, clear and resonant. You were a good girl for Five because you knew the strength that he could fuck you. Fuck, he could break you if he want. But now you were sexually frustrated, aroused, with a racing heart and wheezing from the expectation of something.

A night of bad decisions.

“You don't want to get out of your equations.” You turned your voice into something innocent, soft, provocative, and the strong breath that Five drew was a small victory for you "I guess I'll just get off all by myself."

Your smile was malicious, causticante, but as soon as Five got up from that chair, the perfect posture, much taller than you, and was slowly towards you, like a predator with its prey, you knew you were screwed.

“Do you want to come this much?” His fingers passed gently over your warm neck, and you let out a breath with that stupid touch.

Five moved closer, your chest glued to his, the hot, citrusy breath of alcohol hitting your nose. Something wetted you panties, making you bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from sighing any louder.

“Would you use your little toy thinking about the times that I fucked you so hard that you couldn't walk the next day?”

That was too much for your already sensitive system. Those words went directly to the thread that connected your heart and its pulsating nucleus, causing a burning note to reverberate.

“Five...”the sigh came out, while the memories of Five using your vibrator to push you to the limit, while him fucking you brutally, prowled like a wild beast in your mind.

Five slid the fingers from your neck to your cleavage, brushing the tips of her fingers across the flesh of your breasts. Five stuffed his forefinger into your cleavage and pulled you to him.

You moaned softly, in a purr.

“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" The whispered floated in your ear, while you put down the margarita at the bar and held your hands in his arms.

You bit your bottom lip, your panties soaked, your heart beating fast in your chest, the atmosphere more wild and fiery.

“You want this?” Five slowly lowered a strap from your blouse, each second speeding up your heart even more.

“Yes...” You sighed “I really want to, please.”

Then Five's touch got rougher and he held your chin firmly, lifting you face to look him in the eye.

“Beg.” It was an order, but your body was sending millions of feelings to you that you were lost for a second "beg!”

“P-please.” You looked at him pleadingly “Fuck me so badly, please.”

His grip got stronger.

“Once again.” Now the other hand slid roughly over your body, squeezing your waist, thigh, ass, anything that Five could mark as his property.

“Please, I'm begging you to eat me.” You really were, your body needed more, and there was no denying it.

So in the blink of an eye, the blue flash swallowed you both up and took you to his room. You were dizzy for a second, you were not used to his tricks. But Five used it as a bonus and stuck his lips to yours, stunning you with the strong taste of alcohol, desire and lust.

You moaned softly, your hands working to free him from his clothes, your lips corresponding to the battle. You managed to strip off his shirt layers and fade his pants, but Five didn't have the same patience as you. He didn't wait to undress you, he tore the thin fabric and opened your bra hungry, in a hurry, as if you were his last meal.

In a second his hot mouth was on your breast, sucking and nibbling at the needy skin aggressively, his fierce hands pulling you out of the other pieces of clothing. Five was not delicate, loving and caring, he conquered, took, owned, his goal was to devour you until his savagery was sated.

“Fi-Five!” You moaned loudly, your naked body now shaking with desire, your heart exploding in your chest.

You would have said something more if Five hadn't pushed you to the bed and made you fall into it. He pulled your legs apart, exposing you completely to him. His eyes burned with a dangerous and brutal fire, and Five slapped down the inside of your thigh. You screamed, arching your back, your hands closing on the sheet.

“Well, since you want to cum so badly…” Five climbed on top of you, his mouth proving the point where he had hit you “why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.”

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, his mouth was right in the middle of your pulsating core. Eating, sucking, tasting everything you willingly offered to him so much. You moaned, or screamed, your hands tightly squeezing the sheet, digging your nails into the fabric.

Five ate you at an undisturbed pace, as if you were the last meal in the desert, clasping his hands on your waist to keep you immobile, sinking his mouth deeper into you. His tongue opened its yours walls, circled her clitoris and sucked there, leaving a hot trail of spittle. You moaned loudly, your waist trying to fight the firm grip of his hands to roll in him mouth. You felt a thread about to burst inside you and your heart started to race in your chest.

“F-Five!” You screamed when he sucked your clitoris, and he could feel you pulsing in his mouth, signaling that you were close.

“Come for me, little slut.”

The vibration of his voice in your sensitive flesh was the trigger you needed, you came intensely, your legs wobbly, your breathing heavy, but Five didn't wait for you to finish coming before climbing on top of you, lowering his pants and underwear enough and brutally get inside you in a fraction of a second.

You groaned loudly, your hands clasping his bare shoulders, your walls hypersensitive to the end of the orgasm that was still breaking free. It was too much for you, your eyes stung with tears, your heart was racing a marathon in your chest, and your whole body was shaking.

Five doesn't give you a second to get used to it, or to get down from the sensation of your orgasms, he set a rough, hard, badly rhythm, entering inside you in penetrations that pushed your body upwards. You spread your legs wider and wrapped them around Five's waist, your chest glued to his chest, skin-to-skin contact being the extra to drive you crazy.

It was too much for you to take, too much for your hypersensitive body. Five silenced your broken moans with toxic kisses.

“Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.” His voice was hoarse, breathy, broken, Five drives his dick so deep inside you as possible with every word.

“I...I can't...”You whimpered in his mouth, clasping your hands in Five's hot flesh, sobbing at the strength he put in you, you needed more.

“So let's take care of it.”

Five released an aggressive and rough hickey on your neck, putting an arm around your waist, sticking every inch of their bodies together, and his free hand covered your mouth, drowning out yours screams. You thought it was going to placate his hard rhythm, but Five started pulling your waist down, against his dick, and sinking deeper inside you.

“You wanted me to fuck you, didn't you?” Five snarled, looking into yours watery eyes "Now take it, fuck!."

His dirty words only led you further towards the second abyss. Five fucked you so hard that you couldn't answer, let alone whit the heavy hand on your mouth. Yours hands sank into the skin on his back, yours legs pulling him hips towards you, desperate to placate what was about to burst.

Five could feel yours tight walls throbbing on his dick, signaling that you were going to come any second. He groaned loudly, clenching his teeth on the skin of your neck so as not to make a noise, thrusting his dick as deep as possible into you. He replaced the hand in your mouth with his own lips, swallowing yours moans and trying to keep the sounds of you both low.

“I ... I'm going to...” You cried with pleasure, pain, desire, his rhythm hurt but it gave you so much hunger and pleasure that you could feel the liquid of your arousal soaking his dick.

Five looked at you in a way full of lust and with a very desire to break you. Oh he wanted to destroy you.

He came out of you, making you let out a loud moan of frustration and tears streaming from yours eyes. You whimpered loudly, and Five switched positions and pulled you hard into his lap, giving you no time to straighten up before he pushed his dick into you and aggressively stuck both hands to your waist.

You bit your lip hard to keep from screaming, trembling hands resting on his chest as Five pulled you up and down brutally, thrusting his dick in as deep as possible in you. He did not contain an aggressive groan at the sight of yours breasts jumping on his face, body sweaty and marked by fingers and hickeys, the inside of yours thighs already red by the force that Five shocked the body in you.

“Pl ... please!”

You begged, your face smeared with mascara and tears, your lips red from raw kisses, your hair sweaty. You looked like a goddess and Five wanted even more to destroy you.

“Do you want to come?” His voice was breathless, hoarse, fierce.

You nodded frantically, looking at Five with beg, begging him to let you come. It seemed to have an overwhelming effect on him. Five slapped your ass down, raising his hand to your back and pulling you forward, making your chest lie on his while the rhythm reached new places.

You bit his shoulder to keep from screaming, tears streaming down your face.

“If you come in this position, I will not control myself.” He snarled at you.

“I do not mind!” You begged, moving your waist to match his rhythm.

“Guess i'll just have to cum in you then” Then Five kissed you, hard, bad, dropped a hand to your clitoris and applied the trigger you needed to collapse.

You sank your mouth into the skin of his neck to muffle your scream, and soon a hot, thick liquid was filling you to the brim, taking up every inch inside you. You whimpered loudly against Five, hims hips doing the final thrusts to make sure the cum was filling you, his warm hands loosening the aggressive grip.

You both breathed loudly, your legs were shaking, your hair was stuck to your face and it took you two minutes to lift your face and look at Five. He gave you an arrogant smile of ‘I said I was going to break you and I broke’ and you laughed softly.

“I don't think I can get up.” You laughed, and Five removed a lock of hair from your face. “Do you think they heard us?”

“They certainly heard you.” He scoffed.

“Coming from your room.” You snapped and Five laughed, hims chest still heaving and heaving, covered in a mist of sweat.

“Fuck them.” Five said, gently pulling your hips up, pulling the dick out of you, making you sigh a broken moan. “You are so sensitive!” He said between his teeth, as if he had never been satisfied with you.

You laughed, and shook your head, exposing your neck full of purple tick marks.

“You know…” Five took his index finger to the marks, delicately skirting them “you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

You pushed his shoulder slightly, rolling your eyes.

“Can we take a shower together?” Five nodded at you question. “ and…”

“And?”

“You know ...” yours cheeks became more flushed "Come cuddle."

Five laughed, his eyes tame now, an open smile and satisfied energy.

“We can.” he smiled and you gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.

[teenageheartthrob]

Madness Takes It’s Toll (Stucky x Reader)

“You look like you’re both pretty groovy .”

Category: completely and utterly fluff

Ship: Stucky x Reader (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Trigger Warnings: none, unless you hate musicals

Summary: reader persuades Steve and Bucky to leave their comfort zone on Halloween

Word Count: 1,856

———————

“Umm…Y/N, sweetheart. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes, Buck. Of course it’s a great idea, stop fussing,” you sighed to your boyfriend. How you had roped them into this was completely beyond you. “Just make sure to stay bent over, otherwise the hump won’t show.”

“Y/N,” the centuries old man whined with a pout, “this stuff itches.”

He snuck a look at himself in the mirror in your closet. His scalp was driving him crazy but you seemed happy. He wondered with a smile if Steve was re-evaluating their decision to date the crazy girl now too.

“It’s just glue, baby. It’s normal. Now come on, we’re on soon.”

You flashed your gorgeous smile at him and he swear his knees nearly gave way. Even if you did look completely insane, he still thought you and Steve were the most beautiful things he’d ever laid eyes on.

His fingers still picked at his itchy head as you dragged him by his metal hand towards the bathroom.

“Steve, you almost done baby?”

“Uhhh, I think so,” the blond beefcake called back to you.

“Please tell me you look as loony as I do,” Bucky pleaded.

“Probably not far off,” Steve replied, emerging from the bathroom.

You gasped, jumping into his arms with eyes like fireworks.

“You look so good! Happy Halloween,” you smiled, kissing the captain tenderly on the cheek.

“Happy Halloween,” he replied, kissing your forehead with just as much affection. He held you close to his chest as he extended the same seasonal greetings to his boyfriend.

Bucky grumbled from beside you two, muttering not so subtly about not having to do this sort of thing 70 years ago.

You rolled your eyes playfully and moved over to the brunette, kissing him passionately.

That shut him up.

His fingers quickly fell from the wig covering his hairline to your hips, squeezing gently.

Breaking the kiss, you pecked his nose.

“Come on, Riff Raff. You too, Professor.” Taking one of each of your boys hands, you led them out of your shared bedroom and down the corridor to one of Tony Stark’s famous, or rather infamous, Halloween parties

That’s right, you had somehow convinced your macho super soldiers to dress up as characters from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Not only that, but you had managed to get them to agree to perform one of your favourite songs from the musical at the party tonight. Time Warp.

Now this of course, had only come to be after weeks of your begging and pouting. Not to mention and a fair amount of sexual bribery but it could never be said that you didn’t get something out of that experience too. Steve and Bucky made sure of that.

Steve came around a lot faster than Bucky did, as he continued to whine about how unfair it was that Steve got to stand around in a suit while he was stuck with a hunchback.

After a rather eventful evening shower, he had miraculously changed his mind.

He was cursing your sexual prowess now however as the three of you walked behind the makeshift stage the band was currently playing from.

From behind the curtain, Steve could see the whole living area and the hundred or so people filling it.

He silently questioned whether he could make it to the bar across the room and sneak a quick drink before you’d notice his absence.

He decided against risking it. Sam would kill him for ruining this performance. He’d been waiting weeks for this delicious black mail material on Bucky.

“You ready, Magenta?” Steve quizzed with a small pat of your ass.

“Born ready,” you smiled back at him.

“Buck, ready babe?”

“Shut it Rogers,” he hissed, now more concerned with the butterflies in his stomach rather than his blond wig.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” you squeezed his hand.

“Bit of shush please!” You heard Tony’s voice command through the speakers. “Now, I have a very special treat for you all, our very own Cap in a tutu and spandex!”

You heard a few cheers through the crowd, Natasha and Sam’s wolf whistles stuck out from them all though.

“Not quite that, but it’s close. Sorry to disappoint all of you hoping to get an eyeful of America’s ass tonight.” You chuckled to yourself and eyed Bucky’s grin. He couldn’t deny how good Steve’s ass was, no one could. He knew its power. And Steve knew how to wield it.

“Let’s do this,” you nodded to your boyfriends, who smiled down at you with a mixed look of love and petrifying fear.

“Let’s do it, doll.”

You blushed, happy the former Winter Soldier had finally came around.

You didn’t want to feel like you were forcing him into this performance, but equally you would kill him if he didn’t go through with it.

A few more laughs erupted from Tony’s crowd and you could hear the ice in his glass clinking together through the microphone.

“Alright that’s enough from me. Without further ado, I give you the holy trinity!”

Tony had given the three of you the nickname after he had heard your complaints about your sore knees. This was before anyone knew you were together. You had panicked and told him you were praying. Smug son of a bitch gave you all the collective title the next day.

The applause died down as the lights dimmed. You weren’t nervous until this moment. After all the guests were only SHEILD members and family.

You had spent all week rehearsing with the boys, you had no reason to be afraid.

Sucking in a deep breath, you stepped out onto the stage, curtain parting for your entrance.

Steve stood in his position on the raised step behind you two, stiffly. Your heart melted to know he was as nervous as you.

He flashed you a wink as you looked back at him. Bucky, who was lamenting the lack of attention, received a kiss blown from Steve. He smiled at you softly.

The first few beats of the song started suddenly and you bit back a smirk as you heard your brunette soldier counting himself in.

The spotlight flashed onto Bucky as he stalked his way across the stage beginning the performance.

Buc-Riff Raff’s wide eyes got a few cheers as he lip synched to the song.

“It’s astounding. Time is fleeting. Madness takes its toll.”

You readied yourself.

“But listen closely.”

“Not for very much longer,” your body moved automatically. Thanking your lucky stars for all the practice you had done, you leaned over Bucky’s shoulder dramatically as you were supposed to.

“I’ve got to keep control,” Bucky had grabbing your chin firmly, as planned. However the kiss that followed was not part of the act.

None the less, Sam’s recording of the events would later show Scott and Clint’s cheers drowned out everyone else’s.

The show continued without a hitch as you and Bucky ran around the stage with varying levels of drama and showmanship.

Something inside you told you that he would be begging to do this next Halloween.

Quicker than you’d thought, all the stage lights were on you three, signalling Steve’s cue; who was still stood silently in the back as the criminology professor.

As he expertly recited the Time Warp dance moves, pipe firmly secured between his teeth, he was delighted to see the audience also joining in.

‘Not quite the show they were hoping for but at least they’re still getting a laugh out of it’ the blond thought to himself.

Meanwhile he watched with a grin as you may have gone a little overboard with the pelvic thrust, but it only added to the scene.

You hurried over to the piano on the left side of the stage and lay across it flamboyantly.

“It’s so dreamy, oh fantasy free me!” Magenta sang as you rolled yourself onto your stomach.

“So you can’t see me, no not at all...” You sent a wink to Bucky as you mouthed your next lines. “In another dimension, with voyeurstic intention…”

The metal armed soldier had now moved to his knees beneath your position and you noted the beads of sweat on his forehead as you tipped his head towards your own.

“Well-seculded, I see all.”

“With a bit of a mind flip…” This was Bucky’s favourite part. He stood quickly and flipped you onto your back once more, practically laying on top of you.

In a moment if panic, you wondered if the instrument would support both of your weight.

“You’re into the time slip,” you finished.

“And nothing can ever be the same,” the man above you mime whispered.

“You’re spaced out on sensation,” you fanned your face, eyes rolling back.

“Like you’re under sedation!” James Barnes finished his favourite sequence with his favourite move, a much too over exaggerated grind against you.

The audience’s applause was so loud you struggled to hear the music but your boys got the timing exactly right.

Steve’s portion of the song came around again and this time he doubled the energy of his actions as needed. You knew you were going to be thanking them in a very special way tonight.

Hell, if Bucky had his way, you wouldn’t have made it off of the piano.

Breathless and sweating, you finished the song with the iconic drop to the floor, Steve pretending to damp his head with a handkerchief.

A multitude of claps and cheers turned to white noise in your ears as the curtain closed in front of you all. You lay there for a moment, eyes closed and content.

You were absolutely going to need a copy of Sam’s recording but you already knew how great it would be.

A soft pair of plump lips pulled you from your thoughts and you tangled your hands through the blond hair.

“So?” You questioned.

“That was great,” he smiled down at you, “you two killed it. I’m so proud of you both.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” A flushed Bucky pulled you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, kissing everywhere his lips could reach. “Thank you for making me do that. That was fucking brilliant.”

“Always Buck.”

Steve wrapped his arms around the pair of you as the curtain unexpectedly parted again. The billionaires voice flowed through the speakers once more.

“Who knew Barnes had it in him, ay?” He joked, “Once again, ladies and gents, Y/N L/N, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.”

Both boys released their holds and opted for joining hands with you, all bowing to your fans.

It had been quite a successful night.

“Nice work guys, go get cleaned up. You stink,” Tony whispered to you, and you were more than happy to comply. You were beat.

Bucky’s lean against Steve told you the same as you three made your way back down the corridor to your room.

You opened the door for your partners, hearing Steve mutter to Bucky how hot he was out there.

A chuckle passed through your lips as you thanked Odin for the life you had.

Best Halloween ever.

[animeyanderelover]

Requested from @girliesanjose123

Request: Can I have prompt 68 with Indra Otsutsuki in a soulmate AU?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, harsh behavior, controlling behavior, kidnapping, violence, abuse

Prompt 68: “You’re all I think about. I always think about holding you, kissing you, touching you, making love to you, breeding you...”

"Don't even think about it." You flinched when you heard his cold and voice ringing through the cold air of the night, a wonderful addition to his icy tone. Just as quickly as your eyes had wandered to the forest and the idea of trying to make a run for it as soon as he was asleep, the idea left you again. Instead you just turned around, staring with a scared look in your eyes at the dancing bonfire. "I'm sorry. I won't think about it again.", you muttered quickly out, a habit you had formed due to past experiences with him.

You heard something akin to a dismissing hum from him before ot became silent between you two, the only thing that made this all not too suffocating or awkward were the random noises of the night, the crackling sounds of the fire and the swooshing created by the wind. It wasn't the first time that you two just sat there like this, not speaking to each other. You because you were too intimidated and had no idea on about what you could possibly talk about with him and him because he wasn't the very talkative type. And forcing him into a conversation wasn't very wise either, he got quickly annoyed with you.

Up until this day you had troubles believing that he was really the one you had been born to be with, your soulmate. And yet his name had been engraved on your wrist since your thirteenth year of life, written down in black letters without a chance to ever erase it again. Just like your name was written down on his wrist, he had never told you since when. The most detailed answer you had gotten from him had been that he had the mark on him since quite the long time.

Soulmates were totally romanticized in your opinion even though you understood to a very small degree why people wished to have a soulmate as well. The idea of having someone who was born to be with you and would experience something that could only be described with love at first sight was tempting to imagine. But sadly the dark side of having a soulmate was overshadowed, pushed away since people only wanted to see and hear what added up to the dream relationship in their mind.

There was no other choice than this one person who was your other half, not even if you fell for someone who seemed to fit you much more perfect. This was one of the most common misunderstandings people had about soulmates. They thought they were perfect for each other and loved each other conditionally. It was a lie. You had informed yourself, read a lot of reports and letters about it, even from people who had themselves a soulmate. And in more than a few people had described that their soulmate had been nothing near perfect, they had been lazy, selfish, mean and so much more. Some had even described how their soulmate had cheated even after they had met each other which had ended in a terrible heartbreak for both parts.

Having a soulmate didn't have to mean that they loved you as well, but once this happened, it ended in a terrible pain and depression for both parties and some had even said to die because of a broken heart. What a ridiculous thing to exist. Why would have a innocent who had done nothing wrong suffer because their soulmate had to be a dick without knowing each other even that well except the sudden attraction to each other and the knowledge that they were your soulmate?

So you had never been exactly happy when receiving that mark of yours, but everyone else around you had seemed to make a huge fuss about it. Friends and classmates had envied you for it and your neighbors had started almost gushing about the name written down on your wrist, starting to talk to you about how happy you must be to have one and how cute you would look together with them. You hadn't, but with that opinion you had been sadly alone. Even your parents had sugarcoated it, maybe because they were scared what might happen to you and this Indra if you would reject them.

But you had been completely right and you could bet that everyone in the village had sobered by now up from their delusions. If he would have kidnapped you silently, they would have assumed that you might have gone with him. But you hadn't. Instead you had tried to run away from him after only a few hours of knowing him. And you still remembered how the protests and comments to try to calm you down had died down the moment Indra had started demolishing everything in his way to catch you.

You didn't know until this day what had become of all the people in the village and if some of them were even alive. You hadn't seen much, but the short glances on the place that had used to be your home once had been enough to horrify you before you had passed out after looking in red eyes with three dots spinning inside of them.

You had by now given up asking to see your family again, every begging and pleading had been harshly and coldly shut down by him that by now you had pretty much lost all hopes. You had also given up on cursing whoever had decided to set you two up, there was nothing you could do and you had sadly no one to blame for this either, leading you to wallowing in self-pity.

The most frustrating was that you knew so little about him. He had never told you much and you had long ago lost the guts to ask him. You knew he was from far away, had left due to family issues and was planning to prove something. That was about all you knew about him next to his name and that he was insanely powerful. He could be a mass murder and you wouldn't kno. He on the other hand had wanted to know about everything about you and had forced it out of you. Well, maybe he would become more open over time. He wasn't someone who seemed to warm up quickly to a stranger.

That was probably why he was so distant and cold to you most of the time next to being very strict and controlling. He striked you as someone who viewed love and attraction as a weakness, but still seemed to be sane enough to know what would happen if he would have left you behind back then when he had met you for the first time. You had read that soulmates had gone crazy for their other half after meeting them and having to endure a longer time not touching them.

He was smart enough to fulfill those needs of his which sadly also fulfilled your needs. He hadn't engaged in anything too sexual so far, but even those forced touches of his had been enough to make you feel repulsed and yet also had pulled you closer to him. You blamed the soulmate bond for it. You knew too well that you would most likely not be able to stay like this forever, being already sometimes torn apart between your huge dislike for him and the always remaining attaction for him, the butterflies you felt whenever he seemed to become more nice and softer with you.

It was frustrating enough to make you feel like crying sometimes, you hadn't want any of this, but life had to be a bitch and decide to make him from all people in this world your soulmate. You just wished you had never been born with a soulmate or at the very least never met him. You hated how you always felt a painful stinging in your chest when he ignored you or hissed angrily at you.

You knew he had to feel the same, he had to suffer when avoiding you as well. But he was far more better in handling and hiding it than you were which was another rather hurting and harsh slap in your face. Didn't he care at all? You really just thought he was, the only reason he kept you around was because he didn't want to endure the full package of pain that came with just leaving your soulmate alone. He was just too hard to read.

And yet there were those moments where you almost got the feeling he was seeking for your touches and some sort of affirmation of you, only to push you moments later away from him and look like he had no idea what he had just done either. Such moments confused you greatly and seemed to irritate him just as much. So at the very least he seemed to slowly get pulled to you as well. Was this actually a thing to be glad or terrified over?

"Are you sulking again over the fact that we're soulmates?" His voice brought you out of your thoughtful gaze, noticing with a slight shiver that he was staring at you. You guessed you had stared too long at the mark on your wrist. You didn't know how to answer this, feeling scared that the wrong answer might lead to him getting angry again. You had learned to be careful around him, you felt most of the times like you were walking on eggshells whenever with him.

You opened your mouth shortly, only to close it again after not finding the strength to do as much as uttering a single word out. You had nothing to say if you were honest with yourself. "You're not going to answer me?"

Indra had shifted slightly closer to you, eyes drilling themselves into you with a piercing intensity. He hadn't activated them yet so that meant you were still in a green zone with him, he always activated them when he was pissed off because of something. A short glance at him made you almost believe that he seemed to display genuine curiosity right now.

You hesitated for a bit, not knowing whether to be honest with him or not. Lying was always an option, but a rather stupid one, he noticed always when you lied to him and he disliked it when you lied. "Yes, I am.", you answered for a few seconds of thick silence passing by, observing cautiously his reaction.

You had expected him to either not care or just becoming mad with you, but instead you always imagined for a second something akin to exhaustion flashing over his face. But it was so quickly gone that you weren't even sure if it had been there in the first place. But it had awakened some sort of interest in him, judging from the way his attention was now hooked on you. It made you tense up, playing with your fingers awkwardly.

"You know, I never asked you this before...But what do you think of me? Be honest." This question always made you choke on your own spit, gaping dumbfounded and majorly confused at him. His face gave no emotion away he could possibly feel right now. But from the way he was looking at you, you knew that he expeted an answer, a honest one, from you.

"You're not...what I expected." It was the only true yet subtle enough statement you could think off without saying anything that could offend him too openly.

It didn't seem to satisfy him though, he furrowed his eyebrows slightly at this very vague answer of yours. "Be more specific. I want to know."

If you would tell him, he would be angry with you, you were almost certain about it. Shouldn't it have been obvious from the way you were acting around him that you didn't like him? He couldn't be that oblivious. So if he already knew, why asking? Did he perhaps want to hear it from you personally?

"You're kind of...distant..." It sounded more like a question and you said it extremely slowly, unsureness dripping from every word. You kept by now an eye on Indra so you could react when he seemed to get offended by what you said. But at the moment he appeared to be calm, just listening and watching. "Continue."

"Well, if I'm being honest I feel a bit neglected from you. You're hard to read and I can't seem to understand what you sometimes even want from me. There are those moments where you treat me like I'm just air or some sort of dog you have to punish for bad behavior. And in other moments you are suddenly being all nice and friendly with me and almost act like you care before you snap out of it again and lash out on me. You're a bit confusing to be with and I just feel like you can't stand me at all since I make you acting like this. So emotionally."

There were quite a lot of unspoken things you could have added, but that would have taken a while and were far more offendingly than what you had put in words as politely as possible and told him just now.

He didn’t say anything which you just counted as a good thing, it meant he wasn’t mad at you...At least yet. Who knew with him and his temper. “So I take it that you don’t like me, do you?”

You quirked yourself eyebrow a few millimeters upon hearing the undertone in his voice, scanning his face. He was not angry, you could tell. It was something else right now for which you needed a few moments to look at before you suddenly understood. Was he...Was he poking fun at you?!

This made you stop thinking for a moment, you had in those past few weeks never seen him displaying many emotions except anger, impatience and from time to time those nearly desperate acts of affection. But never, never had you seen him being amused, you had thought that he had been annoyed by all of this. But now he looked like he was almost about to grin which irritated you. Why was he being entertained all of a sudden? You felt a flicker of annoyance and slight anger shooting through you, making you frown a bit.

“No, of course I like you. Why wouldn’t I like my soulmate who kidnapped me, ruined my village and life and treats me like I’m a piece of shit? I’m happy to be ignored and neglected from my soulmate who seems to not like me at all.” You could not help the sarcasm dripping from your voice whilst watching him through narrowed eyes. The last sentence from you was half the truth and half a lie. You were content with him not acknowledging your presence, it saved you from his outbursts or forced affections. On the other hand it also led you to feeling a often a tingling pain of abandonment in your chest which you didn’t like at all. You could only curse at the connection you shared with Indra. You loathed it.

You heard him scoffing, his expression telling you that he was surprised, luckily not too negatively, by your sudden attitude. “You feel neglected?”, he asked you, giving you a somewhat mischievous look which made you even more irritated. “So you want me to give you more affection? Is that it?”

You didn’t like how close he had shifted to you, it made you uncomfortable and you refused to acknowledge the happy and warm tingling this sudden closeness seemed to cause in your body. “Tell me,”, he asked in a deeper voice,”do you think I hate you and you me?”

Against your will you felt your face heating up and your heartbeat increasing, staring almost hypnotized in those deep and black orbs of his in which you, for the first time since he had abducted you, saw the sparkles of emotions. Had they always been there? Granted, it was your first time looking him so directly in his eyes.

“I-I-umm...” That was about how you sounded right now, slapping yourself mentally out of embarrassment. Why were you all of a sudden so bashful? No, you refused to let him win this. You took a deep and shaky breath to come back to your senses. “Give me a reason to not think you would hate me despite those short moments where you fulfill the basic needs every soulmate feels when with his other half. And why wouldn’t I hate you?! You dragged me in this whole mess and because of you I-“

You were forcefully silenced in a way that made your heart nearly jump out of your chest. He kissed you, surprisingly warm lips moving in a firm way against yours. And you really should have done something against it. But the moment you felt his lips against yours for the first time since you had seen him, it was like a bomb exploded in your head and all of a sudden everything inside of you seemed to slow wonderfully down, no numb stinging, no unnecessary thoughts, only you and him.

Just for a short moment you seemed to forget what he had done, letting the overwhelming feelings of the special bond between you two get the better of you. And all of a sudden you found your arms around his neck, your body screaming to be closer to him. This didn’t go unnoticed by him and you felt something that would have been a smirk if your lips wouldn’t have affectionate-starved moved against his own. At the very least he seemed to share the same hunger for touches from you like the other way around because you felt his arms suddenly sliding around you and lifting you with surprisingly much carefulness yet also eagerness closer to him, chest pressed against chest so that you two could feel each other’s heartbeat beating in sync. It was such a blissful experience for you, suddenly having so much intimacy with the man who had refused to give you what you had always wanted despite refusing to admit so.

You almost whined when he suddenly pulled away, probably because he had realized that you were running short on air which you hadn’t even realized until you panted quickly for air, body still refusing to leave his sudden embrace.

“Are you sure that you hate me? Your actions just right now seemed to tell the opposite.” He himself seemed to be out of air, you hearing his slight panting, warm air hitting your neck and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

You felt shame washing over you the moment you heard his questions, refusing to look him into his eyes. Your lips had pressed into an angry line, the feeling of his mouth on yours still lingering and you cussed yourself when catching yourself wishing to just slam your lips against his once again.

“What was that for right now? Did you want to torture me by showing me how pathetic this rebellious act of mine really is?” Your voice was a hushed hissing, but the bitterness laced in it was clearly audible.

“That was one of the reasons, though not the main one.” You gnashed your teeth when hearing the smugness in his voice, obviously content with what he had just seen and felt. But you also found yourself being once again confused. Not the main one? What was that supposed to mean?

You didn’t even have to ask this, he answered it without you even having to question him. “I don’t hate you. Much more on the contrary. You’re all I think about. I always think about holding you, kissing you, touching you, making love to you, breeding you...”

You felt a disturbing feeling starting to make it’s way up your throat, forming a lump on which you almost choked. By now his eyes seemed to blaze with a sudden storm of emotion which could be put together in a few simple yet terrifying words. Twisted and sick obsession.

“You will love me. You have no choice, but to do so. You can try to neglect your feelings for as long as you want, I can guarantee you that I’ll make sure that you’ll melt in my touches. We’re soulmates (y/n). You’ll come around sooner or later.”

[oretsov]

all’s well that ends well (to end up with you)  [ao3]

for Malina Appreciation Week 2021 Day 4 - Fake Dating/Relationship i’m not 2 hours late shut your mouth 

The first wedding is mostly done out of necessity. 

Mal plops on the couch next to her as she’s reading the invitation, but she hardly notices. She just thinks about how it’ll be the first time in a year where she’s confronted with the reality of having to see her ex, having to possibly interact with her ex, and the most terrifying, having to spend an entire wedding knowing that it could’ve been her and her ex standing up front exchanging vows. 

She shivers at the thought. 

Her ex, batshit crazy and old as shit to boot. The hotly mysterious and objectively most powerful person who worked at her company, and the most insane motherfucker, who left her powerless and defenseless and feeling worthless for two miserable years of her life.

The reason she hates neckbeards, despises the color black, feels like she lost half of her twenties trying to please an immovable force, prove herself to just some guy, who in the end, didn’t even have the decency to let her dramatically break free from him in some high-strung, high stakes girl power moment, shaking her fist and her middle finger in his face as she called down the wrath of a hundred generations of mistreated women in her bloodline and kicked him squarely in the balls. 

No, he didn’t even let her have that. He just up and left one day, decided she wasn’t worth it, decided everything she gave to him wasn’t enough anymore. Because nothing ever was enough! She knew it then and she knew it now. 

She wishes she could scream in his face and do a lot more still, mostly violent and elaborate schemes that involved her and her friends throwing his body down a ditch, lighting a match in a dramatic way as she burned his shit: his stupid fancy car, his stupidly huge house, his stupid fucking artifacts that screamed ‘yes, by the way, we have acquired these stupid fucking artifacts in an inhumane way’, because if there was one fact she would always know it was that men like him would do nothing but take and take and take. 

Lighting his rotting soul on fire at a wedding of her dear friend would probably not go over well though, she thinks. It could attract local news, and Genya would hate to not be prepared to be on television. “Crazy Woman Screams Ferally For 24 Hours As She Throws Fine China At Black Jacket That Also Looks Suspiciously Like Human Form, Yelling Maybe Olivia Rodrigo Lyrics At Wedding Of Close Friend As Said Close Friend Hides Her Face In Horror And/Or Shame” did not exactly roll off the tongue. 

She can’t believe Genya didn’t tell her. She’s literally in her bridal party, saw her no less than two days ago as they discussed the vague details of her upcoming bachelorette extravaganza. 

They brunched every Sunday. They Gals Brunched every Sunday. Some things in life were sacred, and the bond of those who Gal Brunched, especially on Sundays, sacred brunch day, she had assumed were unbreakable. She scoffs and begins concocting a simple ten step plan for revenge. 

“What’s all this then?” Mal’s gesturing to her. It had not occurred to her that she was clutching the invitation in her hand, audibly sighing dramatically and shaking her head and scoffing left and right. Her legs are crossed, quite painfully actually, like she was imagining choking out Aleksander and his stupid head in between her knees, and not in a sexy way.

She thrusts the invitation in his face and watches him skim the text. 

“Genya and David’s wedding? We’ve known about this.” He laughs a little, looking at her face. 

“We were there for most of the events leading up to it were we not? Or am I the only one who remembers walking in on them more than once?” He grins boyishly at her, like it’s so funny that their friends have fun sexual antics with each other because they were not in distress and were, are, terribly in love with each other, and probably will be forever. 

Mal doesn’t deserve the hard eye roll she gives him, but she’s so shaken up by the one specific person that is almost certainly on the guest list. It’s like a terrible little demon ghost, that sits in the back of her mind and her memories, that calls to her, and she’s constantly terrified that she’ll forget that the little demon ghost wants to drag her back into the literal pits of hell, to where she’s not a person, doesn’t feel full, doesn’t feel happy, and certainly, never, ever, feels loved. 

But she doesn’t live in that pit of hell anymore. She lives here, sits here on this couch next to Mal. And Mal can tell that she’s not going to laugh at his jokes, can tell that she’s stressing out and maybe shaking a little. So he scooches closer to her until their thighs are touching and wraps his hands around hers. 

His hands are warm. Big. Calloused, hard but soft, hands of a fighter and hands of a lover. 

Not like she’s noticing, has noticed, or will ever notice. Or anything. 

Slowly and delicately, like he’s approaching a wild animal, he takes the invitation out of her iron grip. When she releases it, he sets it down next to him and returns his hands to hers, covering her little fists with his palms, and they breath air on their joined hands, and all the fight and seizing fear is leaking out of her, and she thinks she’s close to crying which is somehow worse, that he could still make her cry after all this time, make her feel like shit, which she supposes is exactly what he was to her. 

“What’s the matter? Talk to me Alina.” 

She blows out hot air through her mouth. 

“It’s...it’s the venue. I guess they changed it.” Deep slow breaths, she tells herself, laser sharp focus on the hands cupping hers, keeping her safe. “It’s one of Aleksander’s properties. There’s no way they could’ve afforded it if they didn’t ask him.” 

She hears Mal’s shark intake of breath before she sees it, and when she turns her head towards him his brows are furrowed. 

“So you think he’ll be there.” 

“I think I know he’ll be there.” 

A brief silence. 

“Not unless we carry out one of your plots. I’ve been listening to that murder song, I think we could pull it off.” His tone is light, but his hands are squeezing hers. She gets the message he doesn’t say. I’m here, I’m here I’m here I’m here, I’m right here. Her mind seizes with a different emotion, but she ignores it and squeezes his hand back. 

“I don’t want to see him. But it’s not like we -- I can’t go.” He hums in agreement. 

“And we definitely can’t do the murder.” 

“We definitely can’t do the murder.” 

He hums some more. She thinks he’s got his thinking face on but can’t be sure. It blurs together with his ‘taking care of Alina’ face. She saw a lot of that face right before and immediately after the breakup, and it makes her want to scream into her pillow. To just let Mal take care of her. 

Now wouldn’t that be something. 

She slumps and sighs. What shit, and what a shit, to already ruin her friend’s wedding for her.

“I don’t want to see him, and I don’t want to even look at him, and I don’t want him to look at me, and I definitely don’t want him to talk to me. And I don’t want him to think I’m doing worse, because I’m not. I’m doing better. I’m doing really good.” She nibbles on her lip and tries to convince herself of that last statement. She is doing better, that much is true. And she doesn’t care what he thinks, actually thinks he can go fuck right off from her head, but he can’t because they’re going to be at the same wedding. She’s going to stand to the right of Genya, and she’s going to remember a time when a clunky diamond was slipped on her finger, heavy with a promise so big like it was destined to be broken. 

“It just sucks to be sucked back into all the old feelings again.” At his face, she clarifies, “old feelings of how he made me feel. Not feelings for him.” 

He bobs his head in what is probably a nod, and she slumps her body some more, slumps it until she’s leaning into his side that’s all pressed up against her, warm and electric and the purest comfort wherever they touch. She leans her head on his shoulder, and he leans his head on hers. No matter what pit of hell, there was always Mal. Warm and steady, to guide her back to safety. 

“And what if he..brings someone? That’s just,” she lets out an indistinguishable sound that’s maybe a prolonged grunt, “embarrassing.” 

Turning her face into Mal’s side feels right. She doesn’t think he should have to handle seeing her like this, when he’s already seen her a hundred times worse about this and a thousand other things at a million other points in their lives. There’s just something more excruciating about this whole situation, and she wishes she never fucking dated that little shithead and she could sit on the couch like a normal person and read wedding invitations without the urge to commit several forms of homicide.

Mal is silent throughout all of this, but she doesn’t mind. Sometimes he’s a man of many words, and sometimes a man of few, especially when it comes to his emotions and her emotions. She imagines him having to detangle himself from what he really wants to say and what he thinks he should say. Either way, he always says the right thing, and lately, like lately since they were kids, lately twenty years ago, she’s been thinking that he always says her favorite things, in her favorite way, deep and honey coated and just for her. 

And then he goes and says another one of her favorite things. 

“We could go together.” 

She turns her face up towards him, and he looks down at her. “We’re already going together. We’re in the wedding parties.” 

He smiles at her, and she thinks of licking the sweet syrup from his words. 

“No I mean. We could go together. Pretend we’re together. So Kirigan doesn’t talk to you.” 

She keeps looking up at him, and he keeps looking down at her, patient with her reply. He’ll take it in stride whatever she says, she knows that. 

“Like...pretend you’re my boyfriend?”

“Sure. I’ll play overprotective beau, and that way he’ll never come up to you.” 

She knows she could say whatever she wanted to him and they would always have each other. Which is why she nods and squeaks out a small “Okay.” 

It’s just one wedding, after all. 

___

“Oh by the way if anyone asks, Mal and I are dating.”

She hisses as Zoya shoves a bobby pin into their wedding-appointed updo with more force than necessary. Zoya is staring at her through the mirror, and she can see Genya whip around in the background at a velocity that threatens her own wedding updo. 

“You and Mal are doing what now?”

“Just if anyone asks. We’re dating.” 

“So you are dating.” 

“No just if anyone asks we are.” 

“So you’re not dating.” 

Alina sighs. This conversation would be like this then. 

“We’re not dating, just pretending to for the wedding. Just to keep certain,” she looks at Genya through the mirror “people away from me.” 

Genya makes a sound in the back of her throat and twirls back around, returning to her makeup. Zoya continues to stare her down through the mirror, clinical and emotionless and judgemental all at once. She expected nothing less really. 

“I think that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Zoya sits on a board. She sits on several boards. She’s heard a lot of stupid things. 

Alina sighs again. “It’s just in case. It’ll be fine.” 

And it would be fine, she tells herself determinedly. It was just a fail safe, push button in case of emergency. Mal offered and she accepted, and it’s not like they discussed the parameters of this.

In fact they didn’t even bring it up after that conversation, not when they got up from the couch, or bought a joint wedding gift, or showed up to all the wedding events together, not at the rehearsal dinner, not when they rushed out of the house, dry cleaning in hand. 

Certainly not when they performed wedding party duties a few hours ago, checking the rows and flowers and pamphlets and the attendants of the ranch hurrying in and out, and saw Aleksander lingering by the doorway. Mal spotted him, right when Alina was tracing the petals of a small iris. 

They certainly didn’t talk about it when he reached his arm over her waist, and she could only turn into him, flush against his chest like they were two cards in a deck, perfect together, belonging nowhere but next to each other. 

They only talked about it when Mal leaned in, his breath so hot on her face, like a warm wave of summer washing over her, and it made her want to strip off her clothes and jump into a cold shower, preferably with him.

“He’s right by the doorway. He definitely saw us.” She grips the arms holding her to him, and hangs on tight. His forearms look delicious in his white button down. 

“I think he’s still looking.” He gulps and leans into her to whisper in her ear, “is it alright if I kiss you?” 

Warm honey is his voice she thinks - she would let it roll down her throat, coat her tongue, drip down her thighs. 

She nods. Push button in case of emergency. Mal’s lips are soft and familiar, every youthful game of 7 minutes in heaven, truth or dare, spin the bottle, boiling over and rushing up to meet the precise point where her lips touch his. 

Soft and familiar. Nothing more and nothing less, and he pulls back slowly after a moment, the ghost of a smile on his face. His eyes dart, and she doesn’t dare look anywhere other than his face. 

“Okay. He’s gone.” She breathes a sigh of - something, and gingerly steps out of his arms. He lets her. He smiles and they do not talk about it then. 

“It’ll be fine,” Alina says again. 

“You already said that.”  Zoya’s back to shoving bobby pins in her hair.

“Zoya be nice. It’s not like it’ll be much of a change-“

“Yeah Zoya, it’s not like it’ll be much of a change.” 

“-because they’re already past acting like they’re dating, and instead act like they’ve been 

married for fifty years.” 

“I - wait what? That’s not true.”

Zoya snorts into her hair. “Sure, and Nikolai isn’t in love with me, and Aleksander doesn’t suck ass-“ 

“And David doesn’t love me enough to get married-,” Genya offers. 

“-and half of our friends aren’t in love with each other-”

“-and you haven’t been in love with Mal for twen-”

“Okay yes fine, I see your point.” She watches them in the mirror, snickering to themselves. At 

her and her idiocy. 

What was she thinking, anyways? Pretending to date Mal. At a wedding no less, with all of their friends, where she would have to explain the situation over and over again, and she would groundhog day her way through ten variations of the above conversation, receiving looks ranging from pity to disbelief to annoyance from anyone who would listen. 

But she thinks about the shadow of fear wrapped around her little heart, still beating, miraculously, even after everything. Beaten down and discarded, the last harrowing months where she was cut off from almost everyone. Some days she feels the metaphorical dirt under her fingernails as she metaphorically crawled out of the grave Aleksander dug for her. She just knew she needed better, and so if she kept thinking about the warmth and the strength of Mal, his steady hand on her shoulder, in her hands, intertwined in her life, no one needed to fucking know. 

And it wasn’t a thing that married people thought about. It was just a thing Alina thought about. 

Genya must see her face, and when she looks in the mirror she sees her own eyes becoming red, threatening to shed a tear. 

“Oh Alina, honey, we’re sorry.  We’re just teasing.” Genya gets up to stand by them, and all three girls look at each other in the mirror. Zoya is displaying astounding levels of affection by patting Alina’s shoulder in a there, there manner. 

“I know I know, it’s fine. It’s just. Kind of overwhelming to handle.” How pathetic. It wasn’t even her wedding day.

But Genya’s heart is a good one, and they’ve been by each other's sides through it all, because she only smiles and reaches out her hand to put on Alina’s other shoulder. She grabs her hand, and lets the comfort of her two friends hold her down, hold her together. 

Genya crouches down next to her. “I know. And you know how sorry I am he’s here right? I want to dropkick him almost as much as you do.” Alina nods mutely at this. It was what it was. Some things were out of their control, and she knew Genya hated him almost as much as she did. 

“And you’re not alone today, no matter who’s getting married.” Alina nods mutely again. 

“And we’ll be around the whole time, and you’ll have Mal.” Zoya runs a soothing hand down Alina’s head, pushing back stray hairs, like a silent apology for her forceful bobby pin shoving. She tucks a curl behind Alina’s ear. 

“He’s not ever going to let him hurt you again. You know that.” 

___

And he doesn’t. Mal does a pretty good job of making sure of this. They’ve got plenty to do of course, during the day, during the wedding, right before the wedding, right after the wedding, right up until the reception. 

Her duties as bridesmaid have also kept her occupied, and being in the wedding party meant that Zoya could whisk her away at any time from anyone, saying in a frantic voice “The bride needs her!!”, and they would go back to Genya’s room and drink from fancy little flutes of champagne. 

She curses it all. The ranch really is exceptionally nice, and never had she drunk such fancy champagne from such fancy little flutes. At least if she had to deal with knowing Aleksander was here, she could leech off his wealth, get drunk and have a good fucking time with her friends, and most importantly, be a part of one of her best friends getting married. 

The celebration of the love of her friends matters so much more to her than some guy. The feeling carries her through the wedding itself, and when she watches Genya and David reciting their vows to each other, the last thing on her mind is that it could’ve been her up there, drowning in misery, with a shitty guy. The wrong guy. 

She just watches them be in love, so pure and certain, and she doesn’t notice that she’s shed small tears of joy until she looks, past the marrying couple, at Mal. His eyes seem watery from where she’s standing across the aisle, and he gives her a little smile, brings a finger up to his face and swipes across his cheekbones, and that’s when she feels the cool sensation of her own tears slowly spilling down her face. She doesn’t wipe them away though. She just watches Mal look incandescently happy for their friends, and he watches her look the same way, and they smile at each other like they’re sharing a secret. 

And if she imagines a different wedding, her standing up there in white, with a boy she’s known her whole life, not a wedding of the past and not a wedding of the future, not a wedding fated to happen at all, no she fucking didn’t. 

___

The reception is trickier. It’s a bit of a free for all. 

A cake is cut and she munches on stuffed mushrooms and smoked fish and knocks back a healthy dose of wine. Mal radiates heat next to her, and she’s like a drunk little moth always fluttering her way towards him. Even with her eyes closed she could find him. 

There’s wedding speeches and a first dance. The patio’s silent, if soft strings and the sound of love floating across the newlyweds’ feet could be considered silent. Alina almost cries again. 

She doesn’t think about him, doesn’t have to. Mal keeps his hand on her thigh, on the back of her chair, hanging over her shoulder, always touching her, always letting her know he’s there. If she leans into his touch just a little bit more, no she didn’t. Or yes she did, but only for the purposes of keeping her safe. 

The beginning dances and the speeches cease, and now it’s a party. Now it’s switching to fancy cocktails, and it’s Genya grabbing her and Zoya’s hand to do green tea shots like they’re fresh faced uni students and not respectable adults who pretend they didn’t do shots at weddings. 

It has the potential to get a bit sloppy, but it doesn’t, because she feels so much love in the air, and it floats all around her and she’s drunk on wine sure, but she’s drunk on this feeling too. Surrounded by her friends, her friends in love, Mal never once letting go of her hand, 2000s era pop swirling around them but in a seven-piece band style. 

When the saxophone starts playing Mamma Mia! she can’t help but laugh and let herself feel so irresistibly happy, so loved. Mal grabs her other hand and swings her around, and she lets him twirl her, making a face at Zoya when they spin past her.  

As she spins she sees the all black ensemble at the corner of the patio, but she doesn’t fucking care. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t matter to her anymore, and she laughs again at how freeing this feels, like even though it was all over, now she was really letting herself wash it away. The bubbles of champagne were popping, celebratory in nature, misting down and raining over her skin, taking away her pain and her heartache and her feelings of worthlessness. 

And maybe finally for the first time in a long time, she feels firmly rooted, back in her body, her agency and her life in her hands where they belonged, and she feels so free, and so, so, happy, and she never thought she would let herself be this happy again while listening to ABBA, but here they are and there ABBA was playing. 

She laughs again, and Mal laughs with her, pulling her in close to his body. His chest is warm, his tuxedo jacket is off, and he’s rolled up his sleeves like he’s a movie star and they got to the part where it’s okay to lust after someone’s forearm veins. 

“What’s got you all smiley?”

Her eyes are closed now and she’s humming along to the band, wrapping her arms around Mal’s waist, and he effortlessly holds her in tight to his chest, resting his head on top of hers. Even in her heels and her swishy dress, he still towers over her, and she’s so grateful for it, and she grins maniacally into his dress shirt. 

So maybe she is a little drunk. So what. So was he. They hadn’t held each other this tightly while standing up since they were kids, and she’s pretty fine with never letting go as an option. Judging by the way his arms wrapped across her, his palm burning holes into her lower back, he didn’t want to let go anytime either. 

“I’m just really happy,” she tries to say, but the proximity of her mouth to the crinkles in his shirt muffles her voice. 

Mal laughs. “What?” 

She tilts her head up a bit, he tilts his head down a bit, and she closes her eyes and smiles lazily. “I’m just really happy.” 

She can hear her words starting to slur together, like she wants them squeezed in tight next to each other, not unlike how she was presently squeezed in tight to him. It’s half a byproduct of the alcohol and half her feelings at this moment. She’s never going to forget right now.

Her eyes are still closed, but she can hear it, can picture his smirk melting into the genuine smile that he keeps under lock and key, and reveals only for her. 

“I’m glad. You deserve it.” His hands at her lower back give a little squeeze. She frantically bats away the wine drunk telling her to mount him in the middle of the dance floor, and instead just hums her agreement, nestling her head back into his chest. It’s getting spinny and swimmy, and she snickers when she stumbles over his feet, almost jabbing the heel of her shoe into where she imagines his big toe is. 

“You’re also drunk as shit.” Two more squeezes to her lower back, and maybe she’s imagining him moving his hands lower. Was there a strip of skin that existed between a lower back caress and a full on ass grope? She was wondering. 

“Hi drunk as shit I’m dad.” Saints, maybe the green tea shots were a bad idea, if she was functioning at this level of comedy.

“That’s not how the joke works,” Mal whispers in her ear. 

How did his breath get to her ear? She wonders, but gets distracted by the question of the strip of skin he’s feeling up, gets distracted by not tripping over his feet again. Mal chuckles and it sends shivers down her body, and she just clings to him tighter. It’s getting dizzier and dizzier in her head. 

The band switches moods, and she swears that when she dares to crack an eye open the patio is two shades darker, fairy lights soft and hazy over them, barely illuminating their pressed bodies, like they’re sharing a secret in a dark room. She feels like she’s stepped into a dreamland, and when the strings start slow and soft, her heels transform into soft grass under her feet, and she and Mal are the only two people in the room. 

He leads them, which is probably for the best, given her state. But leading them means keeping her in his arms, and they sway softly, like a breeze is rippling through the air and they just happen to sway along with it. His shirt is so soft under her hands, his pine cologne scent and his sweat, the cold hard evidence that he was real, and he was with her, and if she really presses her ear hard against his chest, she can hear the slow and sturdy thumps of his heart, and she wills her own heart to beat to the same tune, like synching up metronomes. 

The fairy lights are the starry night sky in her mind. She’s full and content, in her dreamland with Mal, like she could float off to heaven right here, right now. She keeps her eyes closed, safe in his arms. She doesn’t see a dark shadow leave the patio, leave the wedding an hour too early. 

She doesn’t notice, and neither does the boy in her arms, because they only feel the shape of each other and sway to the steady beats of their hearts. 

 __________________________________________________________________

The second wedding is not done out of necessity, but more out of convenience. 

What was bound to be a “Very Gay Celebration of One Pew Pew Boy and One Flute Loving Motherfucker” (Jesper’s words, not theirs) required a decent amount of travel for the two of them, since the train to Kerch had the tendency to be anything but reliable, and her and Mal had decided early on that there was no way in hell they would miss any part of the Jesper and Wylan wedding festivities. 

Mal’s already taken Friday off, and she’s prepared to do the same. They’ll drive down Friday morning and help with anything that could require their help, maybe take a stroll or two, pretend like they won’t get hammered. Even though neither were in the wedding parties this time around, they barely saw their Kerch friends, and it would be nice to unwind for a longer weekend with them. 

She calls to tell Jesper as much. Holding her phone in her hand, she and Mal listen to the ringer on speakerphone as he bustles about the kitchen prepping their dinner. It’s lasagna night tonight, and she loves watching him treat every step, every layer of pasta and cheese and meat, like it's the final piece of the puzzle. 

She’s admiring the curve of one very peachy bottom in some very delicious looking grey sweatpants, which may or may not be connected to Mal’s form, and wills herself to stop salivating when Jesper answers the phone. 

She explains their plans to him, is in the middle of hashing out the details of their transportation, when he interrupts. 

“Wait. Shit.” Mal looks up from the floor, where he’s kneeling in front of the oven. 

“What?” 

“If you guys are coming early, which again, totally fine, let’s rage, the hotel..” Please not burst into flames please not burned down in a tragic accident please not infested with anything that crawled-

“..won’t have single rooms for the two of you. All the early rooms we saved were for. Well.” Awkward Jesper laugh. “Couples,” he finishes. 

Mal looks up again, but this time meets her eyes. She’s perched on the countertop, nibbling at her fingernails. Couples. What an interesting concept. 

“Well we can still come right? I mean since we’re not..” 

“Yeah of course. It’s just the room. It’ll only be one bed though, if that’s okay.” 

Shifting his weight, Mal stands and crosses to her perch. He arches an eyebrow at her, as if to ask ‘Is that okay?’. All she can do is smile and nod at him, and not think about all the things she wants to do to him when they share a bed. 

It’d been a while, since random naps on the couch, random naps in the car, random naps on the floor were, well. Unplanned, and definitely not in a California king with crisp white sheets, not in a room with a balcony and view of the water, where the room smelled like roses and doing it nonstop with the love of your life. 

No, their naps were definitely lacking all of those things. 

“That’s fine. It’s not like it’ll be the first time we share a bed.” 

Jesper makes a noise, maybe somewhere between a goat bleat and stomach grumble. 

“Alright, then I’ll let Wylan know you’re coming early, and I’ll tell the hotel. Text me when you leave and I’ll give you more details when you get closer.” 

“Sounds good, can’t wait.” 

It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s sporting a toothy grin. “Honestly same.” 

There’s some background chatter on his end that Jesper tends to, and he returns out of breath. “Okay gotta go now, but can’t wait to see you guys. Love you.”

“Love you,” she echoes as Jesper shouts “WESPER WEDDING!!!!” before hanging up. The phone sits in her hand now, a useless brick of technology. 

“Y’know,” Mal begins. He’s playing with the holes in her jeans, half leaning against the countertop. “We could go together.” 

The words and the look on his face give her déjà vu. She could say no, but there’s no way in hell she would ever pass up the opportunity to get drunk and drape herself all over Mal, let him hold her tight and be swept away by wedding nuptials. 

So she accepts with a sunny smile. “At this point it’s basically tradition.” 

Mal pauses a bit, takes his time looking in her eyes, then slowly returns her smile. “Yeah. Exactly. Tradition.” 

And so it was just two weddings, after all. 

___

Alina has a secret, and as her and Mal step into the room of what was less a hotel and more a borderline too cozy bed and breakfast, she thinks about it. 

Actually, she has two secrets. But the second doesn’t belong just to her, and when she crosses the room to open the balcony doors, the seaside air whips her hair around. It smells like sunscreen and salt. Booze and business. Mistakes and memories. It all comes flooding back to her, she would say, as if she didn’t think about it every day.

She and Mal don’t come to Kerch often, but the last time they did is burned into her memory. It was a weekend like this one, high promises of sunshine and festivities, copious amounts of drinking, and birthday celebrations with the Ketterdam kids. Her and Mal arrived at dusk, and were eager to forgo any freshening up, opting instead to meet up directly with their friends. 

That night was a rowdy one. She remembered being in the corner of some club, bass beat rattling her veins, tequila shooting through her body like rapid fire. Inej was with her, at a high top table in the dark corner.

Inej was watching her talk, as she explained in great detail where she was going, what she was doing, going to what could be considered rather large lengths to justify this little...trip she was taking.

“I just don’t understand why you have to leave for so long. And you’ll be so far away.” 

“I’m far away now Inej.” 

“But that’s different, that’s across land. And we’re still in the same time zone. You’re going to be across oceans, Alina.” She sighed. “I’m not saying I don’t support you, but I just...hope you’re thinking it through.” 

If there was one thing she knew she was, it was stubborn. Stubborn and defensive of the thing she had with Aleksander. “I am thinking it through. We’re taking the next step,” she said stiffly. 

Inej laughed at this. “Alina, he doesn’t even call you his girlfriend. The only formal relationship you two have is professional. And now you want to move across the continent for him?” 

It wasn’t for him, it was with him. “It’s not for him, it’s with him.” 

“All of your work is in Ravka. I’ve seen it, I know how much it means to you, we both know it. Your museums, your collections, your community work. Are you really so quick to abandon all of that, everything you built, to jump on his payroll and wait for him to come home everyday?” 

She grumbled. “I won’t be waiting for him to come home everyday.” 

“Then what will you be doing?” 

And Inej was right. She didn’t know what she would be doing, except following him to a country she’d never been to, didn’t know the language of, unspeakable distances away from her friends, the people she loved, her passions. He’d just said he was serious about her, and she desperately wanted to believe him. But she didn’t have an answer to her question, and Inej knew it too. 

Inej sighed, and her tone drifted into softness. “Have you told Mal yet?” 

She wished the neon lights could drift over her and swallow her up. The dance floor was packed, but they had a good vantage point, and she looked to where Mal was dancing with Jesper, Wylan, and Nina. He’d always been a terrible dancer, but where he lacked in skill he made up for in the size of his limbs and the presence of his body, and it was like his flailing arms worked in tandem with his torso and long legs to resemble something that could be called dancing. Somehow it worked for him. 

Perhaps sensing their gazes, Mal met her eyes from the floor and grinned, beckoning them to join them. At his invitation, Jesper and Nina joined in, waving their arms frantically, like it was life or death if Alina and Inej didn’t dance with them. 

Alina sighed. Inej knew the answer to this question too. 

“No. Not yet.” 

** 

She remembers being nervous to tell him. It wasn’t clear at first, but that’s because she hadn’t been paying attention - but Mal didn’t like Aleksander, not one bit. He never called him by his name, always Kirigan, or her boss. She thought he wanted to make digs at her, for having everything a girlfriend had with him except a tangible relationship status. Giving him everything, but having nothing to show for it. It made her feel small in those moments. 

But on that night they danced in hazy smoke and neon lights, and for a second she forgot all about her weird love life, and she put her hand in Mal’s, pressed her chest to his. He was so tall, and everytime she tipped her head up to look at him he was already looking down at her, and sometimes their bodies were close enough that she could feel the beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck and the front of his shirt. It felt dangerous, like she was playing with fire. The heat between them was enough to light a furnace, keep her toasty even on the warmest winter nights. But she realized she didn’t want to be kept warm, at least not that night. She wanted to rip his shirt off and push herself against his bare chest, his bare body, his bare everything. 

Maybe he felt that too, because even when they left the club and made their way back to Nina’s flat, he wouldn’t keep his hands off her. Sure they were both drunk, sure they were both affectionate, sure the casualness of touch had never been an unmarked territory for them. But it was the little things, how when they held hands on the dark sidewalk, the chatter of their friends surrounding them, he swayed into her, or how when he leaned down to whisper something in her ear, he would graze his lips against her earlobe, there and then gone again, like she dreamed it, but how could she have, when she felt an electric shock every single time he did that? Somewhere beneath the tequila and the ringing in her ear she knew they were being reckless, that she was being reckless. Her and Mal were poking a bear that was going to do nothing but wake up ferociously and ruin everything it touched. 

It took her several hours again to remember Kirigan, and it was when she was laying on Nina’s couch in her dark living room, everyone else having already done their rounds of good nights. Mal lay perpendicular to her on the L-shaped sofa, their heads two pillows apart. She knew he was still awake. 

And maybe the strength of the drinks tonight gave her bravery. Maybe she thought about the bear being poked, waiting, ready to see what would happen. Maybe it was, but she sure as fuck was not. 

“Mal,” she whispered in the dark room. That and a silent plea to the universe to give her strength. 

“Hrmph.” 

“I’m leaving in a few weeks. Across the continent. With Aleksander.” 

She heard him sit up, blankets rustling, and she kept her gaze steady on the ceiling, willing herself to stay still. 

“What?” He didn’t give her time to reply. 

“Like...for a vacation?” She swallowed, and the words almost got caught in her throat. 

“Not...not vacation. I’m moving with him. To Novyi Zem.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she did that she could avoid Mal’s eyes. She didn’t have to look. She knew he was staring at her incredulously. 

But what she didn’t exactly expect was the anger that tinted his voice, and she shrank, afraid it was anger at her, like now was when he was finally going to cut her off for good. Sometimes she heard that tint in Aleksander’s words, and it left her helpless and hopeless and crying on the bathroom floor. 

“Why? Why with him?” 

Why with him indeed. She opened her eyes and willed herself to sit up on the couch. Mal faced her, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. She couldn’t understand why he looked so distressed. At the sound of her movement, he lifted his head up and looked at her. Something fierce blazed in his eyes, sparking with the same dangerous ferocity she felt on the sidewalk when his breath rattled around in her ear. So she looked away. 

“We’re just...taking the next step. He said he can move there for work, and asked me to come with him.” 

“You’re not even dating him,” he snapped. 

Anger began to coat her own words. She never expected Mal to be happy about her moving, but she never thought he would act this way. Granted the farthest they’d ever been apart their whole lives was the class trip they went on when their school still did gendered field trips, and even those were no more than a week long. But they needed to move on with their lives. She needed to - not run away but - something. A word she would fucking think of later. 

“I have every benefit of dating him,” she scoffed. She rose to her feet, and he rose too, and she stared at him with all her rising fury. “We’ve even talked about marriage, Mal, which I know is such a foreign concept for you, to ever imagine settling down, or anyone ever wanting to marry me-”

“That’s not what this is about Alina.” He spoke with such intensity, and his eyes burned with something, and she dared to let herself feel what she felt was the same something rising out of her chest and spilling out of her pores. Her feelings tumbled onto the carpet, out in the open, for Mal to see. The room was dark, but she could see him, and he could see her, illuminated by the moon. 

“You can’t be serious Mal,” she whispered. 

“Do you think this is something I would joke about?” He whispered furiously back at her. She stared at him, not realizing he crossed the two step gap between them, not realizing until his hands wrapped around hers, clutching her fingers, holding onto her like he was drowning. 

“Don’t go. Don’t go with him.” He squeezed her hands impossibly tighter, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. 

“Stay,” he choked.

“Stay and do what, Malyen?” Her brain and body were on overdrive, not thinking this through, never thinking clearly, never ever where him and her and her feelings were concerned. She always believed it to be old news, kept herself convinced of a childhood crush that was just that - beginning in childhood and ending in childhood. 

But a small part of her ached. For what, she did not know. 

He moved closer to her, impossibly, and brought up a hand to cup her face. On instinct she turned her face into his palm. Her instinct to always be near him, to always feel him. He had that instinct too, and brought his head down and touched his forehead to hers. 

“Stay. Stay here and be with me.” He whispered the words right into her mouth. Or did her breath draw his words out? It didn’t matter, except that they hung in between them, the implication pressed closer and closer to each of them as the distance between them closed, and then Mal’s mouth was on hers. 

His lips weren’t just warm. They were a bonfire. They carried something in them, and she wouldn’t let herself read what it was. She just pressed herself to him, hoping that the shape of her body against his would let him know every word she wouldn’t, couldn’t, let herself say. 

She stopped thinking at all, especially when his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she kissed him back fiercely, like it was her last day on earth and she had one more chance to eat something sweet. She would bite the sugar off of his bottom lip, suck it out from his skin. She wanted to devour him, and judging by the way his hands roamed all over her body, cupped her face, her neck, groped her ass, he wanted to devour her too. 

When her neck started to cramp, she fisted her hands in his shirt and backed them into the couch, scrambling to lift the soft material over his head and get her hands back on him. His bare chest was revealed to her, and she wanted to run her hands over the planes, masculine and steady and breathing hard because of her, for her. 

She dragged him over her, knocking them both into the couch, situating themselves until he lay on top, his palm covering her upper thigh, slipping under the hem of her sleep shorts. His mouth escaped hers, and he moved down to her neck, pressing hot kisses that gave her no control over her own mouth, which emitted tiny gasps and terrifyingly, one very breathy “Mal.” 

When his name fell from her lips, he groaned, and the hand on her ass found a new task, and together they violently worked as fast as possible to undo the buttons of her pajama shirt, and he watched intently as they came undone one by one, and even more intently as the shirt slipped open. She was breathing hard, tits out, looking at him, waiting for his next move. No thoughts ran through her head except the catalogue of where they touched. His legs, against hers. His pelvis, pressing into her center, making her squirm. His arm, bracing her head, his fingers running across her bottom lip. 

His other hand roamed. It pushed open her shirt first, started a trail at her waist, covering her belly button, and then he brought it up, like he was mapping her out, trying to memorize every plane of her body. 

That was something she could help out with, so she pushed his hand to cover her exposed breast, watched his face as he swiped his thumb over her nipple, and her breaths came out hard and fast. But it didn’t explain her pressing a light kiss to the fingers by her lips, nor what compelled her to reach her head out and draw his fingers into her mouth, sucking lightly and running her tongue along the side of them. 

Mal’s eyes snapped up when she did this, and she could hear the cracks in the porcelain, but she desperately ignored the signs. She just wanted this, one more second, one more minute, one more lifetime. 

“‘Lina I fucking swear to god,” he groaned, desperately leaning in to kiss her, groping her chest. He burned this feeling into her skin, but she could hear the spell shattering in the back of her mind, and it was like suddenly she realized what she was doing, and looked at him in horror. 

“Mal, get off me-”

“Alina, what’s-” 

He didn’t finish, just stood and gaped as she pushed him off her and stumbled off the couch, frantically buttoning up her shirt and straightening out her underwear. The horny half of her brain screamed at her in disbelief, that she had half a mind to run back into Mal’s arms and let him finish this, get her off at the least, savor the taste of him in her mouth, inside her.

The other half of her brain sounded the alarm, the alarm that she had a boyfriend - well not a boyfriend but now was hardly the time for semantics - but either way she was moving across the continent with him in no less than three weeks, and here she was in Nina’s living room with a shirtless Mal across from her, his hard-on staring her right in the face, the fact that he’d kissed her like they were dying, like the world was ending, forever ingrained in her memory. That he’d seen her topless, which wouldn’t have been too bad if not for the fact that he’d run his hands over her chest, a heated promise of every filthy thing he wanted to do to her, and what she wanted to do to him. 

When she was sure her shirt was securely buttoned, she took two steps away from him. The events had barely registered in her brain, and all she thought about was the burning imprint of his hands on her skin. Hands that didn’t touch her now, hands that belonged to his body, which included a face that was staring at her in disbelief. There was confusion all across it, yes, but also hurt, and it pained her to look at. 

She had to look away, because she just didn’t fucking know, she didn’t know she didn’t know, didn’t know what to do and she was so angry at him, to think that he could just kiss her, almost have sex with her on that couch, water the seed that lived in mind that whispered he would be the best lay she could ever have, tug out the creeping thought that once they did that, she would know for a fact that no one else in the world mattered, their conjoined bodies proving that it was just them in their orbits, circling each other, never once straying. So many thoughts flooded her head and she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t do that, so she yell-whispered angrily at the only person who was available, the person whose hands were just as bloody in creating this mess.

“I’m with someone, Mal. You can’t just - do that!” 

The confusion melted off his face, and anger replaced it. Or not anger, but rather the look he had before he swung punches, before he defended her from strangers on the subway or in crowded hallways, the look she’d seen written into his DNA since they were kids, lost and hopeless and hopeful and fighting, always fighting. He was fighting for something now, but she could not for the life of her understand what. 

“Are you serious? You’re hardly with him -”

“But that doesn’t give you the right! Just because there are terms to our relationship you don’t understand doesn’t mean you can just - barge in and expect me to drop everything and come running into your arms!” 

Mal took a step towards her, and she mirrored him and took a step back. He watched this movement as it seemed to stretch into infinity, and all the fight and color drained out of his face. His defeat gave her the energy she needed to have this part of the conversation, but it drained her too. Sucking on her life force, on the steady beating heart she knew and loved all her life. 

“I’m going with him.” He stared at her. She willed herself not to cry. A part of her, larger than she wanted to admit, wanted him to fight for her. 

“Fine,” he spat out.

“Fine,” she spat back.

So that was that then. She grabbed a pillow off the couch and stormed out of the living room, not looking back at him. “I’m sleeping in Nina’s room tonight. Don’t talk to me tomorrow.” 

There were a lot of firsts in that night - the first time her and Mal ever really kissed for their own pleasure, the first time the gained the knowledge of where the sparks of electricity between them would go if he touched her skin with his lips. 

The first fight that lasted more than a few days, in fact lasting a full two weeks. It was both of their faults she argued, but everytime she thought of picking up the phone to call him, the memory of him rushing over her like a tidal wave flooded her mind, and the emotion that was there, everything between them, it made her so fucking confused, and she felt so lost without him, but being near him was too much for her brain to handle. 

And so the radio silence continued. 

Which was pretty unfortunate, all things considered, because she really could’ve used his help with the packing. He would’ve been over in an instant, helping her sort through her belongings, placing them into their respective boxes. She wouldn’t have had to explain her packing and sorting system to him, because he already knew how she liked her things, and what went where, and what was most important to her. He already knew all of that because he knew her, and she wondered if he would be able to figure out how to detangle her thoughts from their web. She didn’t even know how, and if it wasn’t for the central conflict being, well, him, he would’ve helped her, patient and sturdy, as they detangled her emotions and thoughts and feelings. 

He wasn’t there to help pack, but when she pulled up at the airport, suitcases and carry-on bags stuffed to the brim, she saw him waiting on the bench by the curb. 

Maybe it meant something that him being there was unsurprising to her, somehow the most natural thing in the world, and her heart squeezed. Despite everything, Mal would always see her off before she traveled, wish her a safe flight, and kiss her forehead. She wondered idly what he would do now. 

Genya parked at the curb in front of his bench, and she whipped around to give Alina a quizzical eye. Zoya looked out the window from the passenger seat, observing Mal. They didn’t ask what happened in Kerch, and she didn’t want to know what theories they’d concocted to explain the longest stretch of silence between the forever inseparable forces of Mal and Alina. She didn’t know if they’d talked to him, but judging by the fact that he was sitting outside of her gate, at exactly the time she was going to be there, the question was pretty much answered for her. 

“Alina,” Genya started. 

“Go talk to him. We’ll grab your bags,” Zoya instructed. There was no way she was getting out of this, so she only sighed and climbed out of the backseat, and approached Mal slowly. He watched her as she crossed over to him, never once looking away. 

When it would only take two more steps to reach him, he stood up, and met her in the middle. Brown eyes met hers, and she squished her heart, demanding it stay down. 

“If you’ve come to yell at me more-”

“Look, Alina, I’m sorry-” They both stumbled over their words at the same time, and she laughed awkwardly. 

“You’re sorry?” 

He nodded and gulped. “I’m sorry. The entire thing is stupid. You should go, if it’ll make you happy.” And there it was, the slithering thought that him asking her to go only wanted to make her stay. She knocked it to the back of her mind. Not the time to think about that. 

“Okay. I will.” She didn’t think her voice quivered, but it was hard to tell when he was looking at her like that. 

He nodded again, and gave her a small smile. “Will you call me then, when you get there? Let me know how you’re doing?” 

“Always, Mal.” 

And so it was decided, woven into their words, that the olive branch they extended contained one striking condition. That they would never talk about that night again. It was probably for the best. 

Somewhere in their silence, Genya and Zoya had approached them with her bags, and they handed them off to her. She exchanged tight hugs with them, promises of Facetime Gals Brunch and constant activity in their group chat. 

It was almost time to go, and she turned back to Mal, who was looking at her suitcase. He tapped the tip of her shoe lightly with his sneaker. 

“Be careful, okay?” 

Her throat was dry. She was so fucked. But she nodded anyways, and tried to give him a convincing smile. The reality of leaving everyone behind, leaving Mal behind, had started to sink in, and in a last desperate attempt to calm her panic, she crossed over to his space and wrapped her arms around him. 

She would be away from everyone. She would be away from Mal. No late night movies, no spontaneous hang outs, no crashing on couches, no camping trips. Roaring 20s without the roaring, without the bubble of love she’d created around herself. What the fuck was she doing? As she clung to Mal, she thought her usual reasons for moving would push the doubt out of her mind, replaced with some blurry image of Aleksander, the promises he made for their future together, but they didn’t make a sound, and she was overwhelmed by how much she couldn’t believe she was willingly parting from the people she loved, and the one person, who was her person above all others in the world. 

It didn’t feel right. But all she did was sniffle, and eventually let go of Mal. Like she was just going away for a few days, he dropped a kiss on her forehead and ran his hands up and down her arms. But unlike when she was going away for a few days, he looked her straight in the eyes and she swore she saw a whole universe where she stayed behind with him.

“I love you Alina,” he whispered.

If she needed a list of the last fucking words she needed to hear right now, it would be those words, coming specifically from Mal’s mouth. A future she was going to meet became painted over with loneliness in her mind, and she wanted to flee the scene with his hand in hers. 

But she couldn’t do that, could only run like a coward, so she just replied, “I love you too Mal,” and tenderly walked out of his space, grabbing her bags and waving to her friends. She couldn’t avoid his gaze even if she tried, and when she crossed into the airport and looked back one last time, he only watched her as she walked away. 

**

And so Alina has a secret that she shares with Mal. 

The scent in the air when they kissed smells a lot like the air now, and if she closes her eyes it’s like they’re in Nina’s living room again. Crossing the threshold of processing that they’ll have to share a bed tonight has not even begun in her brain, because all she’s thinking about is how he pressed his body into hers, really into her. She thinks about their kiss at Genya’s wedding, soft and familiar. It lacked all the messy heat of the kiss before, but it made her head dizzier, because his mouth on hers made her something more than just needy for his body. 

And that’s the secret she keeps to herself. 

It’s that when Aleksander pulled out the ring, the first thing she thought was “But what about Mal?. It’s that everyday abroad she looked out the window, longing for a trace of the horizon she knew, thinking that maybe if she could see where she came from, where her heart was, then Mal could see her too, and they could imagine each other across the ocean and hope that he knew she was thinking of him. 

When she showed up at his doorstep in the pouring rain after months of being away and fewer months of limited contact, with all the possessions she could fit in two suitcases that cost her more than she cared for with the airline, her first thought when he opened the door was only that she was home. 

When he embraced her she honestly thought she was crying her heart out, tears spilling for what she really believed was love but turned out to be a lie, tears for her past self that lived happy and carefree and didn’t feel worthless and hopeless and small, and lastly, tears for what she lost. Love that she ran from, because she was nothing but stupid. Mal’s arms were home, his arms were hope, and she’d pushed him away and now here she was, ruined and a wreck and barely feeling like a person. 

There weren’t words available to ask his forgiveness, much less articulate the vast expanse of her emotions for him. It was just a feeling, an irrevocable condition, as they stood in the rain, and as she returned to herself, slowly but surely. With every box moved out of storage and into his flat, with every breakfast for dinner he cooked her, with every walk around the park they took. 

She thought about her ex, and she thought about her short lived engagement, the weight that drifted off her shoulders. 

But most of all, she thought of that night in Kerch and that day at the airport, when something fierce lived in Mal’s eyes, and how that very something had disappeared since she’d returned. He just took care of her, and she was wary at first, but eventually she let him, but she longs for the glint in his eyes. If he had it, he would see her again, and he would only need a second to see the same look reflected back at him.

She wants him something fierce. At Genya’s wedding, only a few weeks ago, he twirled her around, and she felt truly free again, like she could finally let herself be happy. Because she was incandescently happy in that moment, for herself, for her life, for her ability to survive. But she thinks she was happiest, the happiest she could be, because he was there with her, slotted into place next to her, the bright glimmer of a comet in the sky, the moment passing them unless she reached out her hand to grab onto it. 

She wants another chance. She wants to reach out and grab on, and never let go. But that would require a chance, and it would require Mal to give her one. She sighs. 

It feels unlikely. 

___

They go out that night, because of course they do, joining the wedding party, exchanging long hugs and squeals and rounds and rounds of shots as their Kerch friends lead them all around Ketterdam. Every hour it’s another explosion of energy, and their merry band loudly shifts clubs, crowding up the middle of the streets, hooting and hollering and lighting up the night with nothing but their laughter and their joy. 

They go to different parts of the city, and the group has expanded in more ways than one, joined by a towering blonde who smiles warmly if not slightly nervously at their rowdiness, never leaving Nina’s side, always whispering in her ear, keeping his hand at the small of her back. He makes her laugh, loudly, throw-her head-back-and-chortle kind of laugh, and Alina watches them and feels warm. 

She looks to her left, and sees Inej in the corner with the one and only Kaz Brekker, surly and moody in every way except not at all, because when he was around Inej anyone could see that he lit up, almost literally, and it made her giddy to think about the comfort they found in each other. 

And if she looks to her right, not to her right in some far off distance, but right next to her, shoulder pressed against her, she sees Mal, his hand wrapped around the handle of his glass tankard, his other hand dangling at his side, squished against them. Like a cat batting a string, she periodically swats his dangling hand around, and if she looked the other way she would think he didn’t notice, but she’s always looking at him now, and even when he’s talking to Jesper she’ll see his face break out into a grin, and maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s just him, but it makes her feel electrified.

In the middle of the fifth time she’s doing this, he grabs her hand, startling her, and laces their fingers together. Jesper’s drifted off towards his own beloved, and it's suddenly just the two of them in a dark nightclub, intoxicated and poised to do anything and everything to each other. 

“What are you doing you loon,” he laughs. 

He doesn’t give her a chance to answer, only drains his beer, and leads her to the dance floor, and she follows willingly. The rounds of alcohol are coursing through her veins, sparking wherever they touch. Maybe she’ll be lit on fire, she thinks, as he pulls her in towards him, as she wraps her arms around his neck. The bass beat rattles her veins, and the haze that settles over the two of them shimmers. 

She’s been here before. Or some version of this. This sweat, dripping down his neck and onto her hand, the air thick with a kick of sea salt. Neon lights, pressed bodies, cloudy smoke. The tequila stops her from remembering when and how, but it doesn’t stop her from moving along with him, their hips in tune as he brings his hands to her waist, his forehead to hers. 

What’s forged between them is electric. She’s never wanted him more. His hands remain at a respectable spot on her waist, but she looks up at him through her eyelashes in between the thump, thump of the bass, and need shoots out of her, unable to be contained any longer, which is maybe why she grabs his hand and puts it on her ass, and squeezes. 

His eyes flick to hers, alert, and it’s too loud to talk anyways, so she just gasps out a little laugh and brings herself even closer to him, his eyes widening. She can’t stop looking at his lips, but suddenly she’s thinking about her leg between his, his leg between hers. She has half a mind to be very publicly indecent and shove his fingers under her sundress, shove them inside her, but she doesn’t do that, just breaths out his name like every other word in the English language doesn’t matter, just him, him all over her, his breath and her breath together -

- which is what she’s thinking of when she presses her mouth to his. She’s drunk, drunk enough to forget to suppress her moan as soon their lips touch. And maybe he isn’t, maybe he’s got a thousand times more sense than her, because his mouth doesn’t move against hers like she thought, hoped it would, it just stays still and sucks her of her energy, her boldness. 

Maybe he doesn’t want her the way she wants him, not anymore, but he still wanted her once. She doesn’t think that would go away, not with her so willing, no room to be embarrassed, so she pulls her lips from his and stares him fiercely in the face, bringing the hands wrapped around his neck to cup his face, run through his hair. 

She can hear his breath hitching. He is not immune to the way he’s touching her, his hands on her ass, her leg grinding in between his thighs. She can feel how not immune he is to it, growing by the second, so she just traces her fingers on the underside of his chin, the outline of his lips, leaning in once more, breathing out into the world, “Please. I want this.” 

Maybe he doesn’t want her how she wants him, not anymore, but he certainly wants her one way, she thinks, as he rushes forward to kiss her again. This time they do move together, and it’s muscle memory that leads them, but daydreams that whisper what to do next, as they tumble into each other over and over again on the dance floor, his hands in her everywhere. The places he burned his handprint into long ago are relit, and she feels his phantom touch from that couch mix with where he touches her now, and it overwhelms her enough to bring his face up from her neck and drag him to the bathroom. 

The bathroom, where something pops in her head, and when she stops abruptly at the doorway, and he bumps into her, turning it into an opportunity to grind into her, press her back against his chest, and dip down his head to lavish her neck, and for a few seconds every thought flies out of her brain. 

“Wait, Mal, wait,” she turns in his arms, clutching onto him. “We should go back.” she gasps. 

“I-what?” He’s stumbling away from her, looking away, but she grabs onto his hand, steadying the both of them. 

“I mean, we should go back to the room,” she sighs, nibbling on his earlobe. She feels him nod, and by some miracle they exit the club, too intoxicated with each other and preoccupied with pushing the boundaries of public groping to say goodbye to their friends, much less notice their eyes follow them as they stumble out and back to the hotel. 

That was a tomorrow problem. This would all be a tomorrow problem, and when she pushes him onto the bed and rides him with her sundress on, she forgets all about the tomorrow problems, remembering only the burning of his skin on hers. 

___

As it turns out, it wasn’t even tomorrow's problem, or today’s problem, because they have a wedding to get to, and there isn’t exactly time to unpack the events of the night in between the bustle of activity. 

Okay, fine, and maybe there was time when she woke up in Mal’s arms, his naked body against her back, and she strategically maneuvered her body in ways that would wake him up. It was only eleven in the morning. Did she expect that he would hold her wrists down and eat her out for no less than an hour? No she did not, but things, like making a mental note that orgasm denial by Mal was her favorite kink in the entire world, took priority. 

At noon, when she thought maybe they had time to unpack the events of last night, fate stepped in, in the form of her stepping out onto the balcony and back into the room, only to realize that the entire place reeked of sex, and the smell probably coated her own skin. So no, she did not have time to unpack anything, not when she stepped into the shower while Mal went to grab pastries, only for him to return while she was still showering and join her. 

The hot water sprayed over their bodies, and the bathroom was fogging up but she didn’t think it was from the steam of the water anymore than it was from the heat passed back and forth between them. He washed her hair, gentle in massaging the suds around her scalp, rubbing a breath of freshness back into her skin. Actions that deserved a reward, is what she told herself, her show of gratitude for him far more important than whatever it was they needed to talk about. So she got on her knees and pushed him lightly against the bathroom wall, let the water hit their bodies as she took him in her mouth, drawing out every octave of his moans, squeezing her own thighs everytime he gasped her name. And when she was done, she didn’t think his fingers would find their way back inside her, but they did for long enough for her to grip onto him, for her legs to turn to jello, which was apparently enough for him to turn her around and take her against the shower door, the sound of the steady stream of water the background music to their moans. 

And now it was almost two, and she really needs to focus on actually getting ready, doing her hair and makeup at lightning speed, slipping into her lavender dress carefully but quickly, frantically avoiding Mal’s gaze as he puts on his tuxedo, because if she saw him in a state of half dress while wearing dress pants, there was no way they were ever making it out of this room. 

But her will to attend the Wesper wedding is stronger than her desire to try every sex position under the sun in 24 hours with one Mal Orestev, so they book it to the vineyard, sliding into the the white chairs a hair earlier than right on time, but her heart is beating so fast that it’s not until the wedding begins does she register where she is and what she’s doing. 

And what she’s doing is amazing. It’s watching Jesper and Wylan, two boys she loves very much, with all her heart, standing together, officially marking their life together. A wedding isn’t an end all be all, she thinks, actually knows this for a fact, but Alina was always a bit of a hopeless romantic, before she almost had her own colossal failure of a wedding. But that old Alina is coming back, and she finds there to be something unspeakably magical about standing tall and proud with someone you loved, declaring to the entire world that what you had was special, what you had was sacred. 

It didn’t have to be through marriage, and it didn’t have to be through a wedding either. Just the seizing feeling itself, of declaring your love, of having someone who loved you so wholly and completely by your side. She hasn’t ached for that in a long time, but watching her two boys shout about their own love from the mountaintops, she finds herself longing for it. But the ‘it’ isn’t some intangible feeling she’s chasing - it’s what she aches for now, with one person, and he sits next to her, listening intensely as Wylan recites his own vows. 

There are marks on her thighs that he sucked there this morning. They’ll fade in a day or two, but she’s always going to remember their exact placement, the precise colors they cycled through, how they signified something she’s known forever: that her heart belonged to him. 

But what about him? She didn’t know, and she didn’t know how to think about it, how to stop thinking about it. They’d humped like bunnies for the past twelve hours, but the feeling that surrounded her heart when it came to him was so far beyond just lust. It was her entire world. 

Wylan finishes his vows, and he has tears in his eyes. It’s not hard for her to be overcome with the same emotion he feels, if not for Jesper, then for Mal. The officiant begins his speech, and she feels the light drop of a tear fall onto her hand and looks down at it, surprised. 

The vineyard is so lush and green, so full of life, the officiant’s voice swimming in her head, promises of love in health and sickness, in good and bad. Mal always took care of her, saw her best and worst parts. He supported her pursuits to no end, made sure she ate three square meals a day when she forgot, and most importantly, let himself open up to her, let her take care of him and protect him as much as he did her. 

She keeps looking at the tears on her hand, shimmery and translucent, slow in rolling off her skin. She feels too much, sometimes regrets how completely and stubbornly and recklessly she lives and loves. As she thinks about this, there’s a rustle next to her, and she watches in slow motion as Mal moves his hand over hers, covering the one with her fallen tears. 

He stares straight ahead, paying rapt attention to the officiant, and she turns her head to the front of the aisle too, but her heart is in the space between their touching hands, and it beats the beat only for Mal as he interlaces their fingers. She doesn’t look down at their joined hands, just stares straight ahead, and lets the swirl of love in the air flutter in her chest. 

___

Was it appropriate, generally speaking, to ask your best friend/man you were in love with/life companion what it meant that the two of you had hooked up several times in the past 24 hours at the wedding of your other friend? 

This was the question of the day, and it was definitely the question of the evening, as the sun set over the vineyard and the ocean turned a sparkling orange color. The lighters were brought out, the champagne was poured, and Alina pondered this question at every step. 

Her ponderings were more of the breaks in her celebrating, because this was her friend’s wedding and not some melodramatic fifty minute montage of her looking dramatically at Mal in slow motion, and then at the ocean, and then back at Mal, and then at the ocean, and so on and so forth. 

But she can’t help wondering what he was thinking, throughout the wedding, throughout the reception. He just kept looking over at her and smiling, and she smiled back, but - what the fuck was he thinking? His actions offer no insight into his thoughts, and she has no idea if she should be prepared to find a different room to sleep in that night or if she’s about to get her brains fucked out later that night. At this point, she isn’t sure which she prefers. 

She hits the champagne hard - but not as hard as Genya’s wedding, so while her head feels swimmy, she knows she’s in full control of her body (check), mind (check), heart, soul, etc. (check, check, check). Mal sits beside her almost the entire night, sipping some fancy whiskey that Kaz slid across the table to him. 

They circle each other the whole time, sitting next to each other but never really talking to each other, always in separate conversations with their joint friends, being whisked away at some time or other to dance, always next to each other, never with each other. 

Not until the sky is a dusty dark blue, and the sea is a twinkling reflection of it. She spins out of Jesper’s hands and right into Mal’s, and time moves a little slower, and she swears the twinkling bulbs above them are flickering to the pace of her heartbeat. There’s no seven-piece band this time, but there is a band, and there is a flautist, and they play a slow tune, and she’s sure that a slice of heaven exists here, in between them. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

He doesn’t twirl her this time - it’s not quite that song, but he does draw her in closer, places his hands respectably on her waist, as if he didn’t spend last night becoming well acquainted with every part of her body. She sways along with him, bringing her hands around his neck, and they’re back where they were twenty-four hours ago, but this time they’re less sweaty, less hurried, and she’s been thinking about love for the past day, and the intensity at which it burns inside her chest. 

“Would you consider this an improvement from twenty-four hours ago?” he asks with an amused expression. Shit, did she say that out loud? 

She hums. “Not better or worse. Just different.” He nods, like it’s an agreeable answer, and they continue to sway, songs passing them by. 

After a few, his sudden voice almost startles her. “Do you ever think about that last time we were here?” 

She looks up at him. She thinks about it everyday, but there’s too much of a confession in those words, so she just offers him a nod. 

He nods too. Something in his face flickers. Something familiar. “I think about it everyday,” he says, and all she knows is to stare at him in silence, and he stares back at her, his gaze intense. 

“I was an idiot,” he continues. “I should’ve tried harder to stop you.” Mal seems okay with having this conversation with himself, and he looks past her head. She watches him get lost in his own thoughts. She does not understand what he is saying. 

“Mal?” 

His eyes flick to hers once more, and - oh. There it is again, the glimmer in his eye, beautiful and lovely, as rare as a shooting star. The same look in her own eyes. 

“Would you have let me? If I’d tried harder?” 

She nods, numb to her body except where they meet. She loves him so much, but it’s not hurting quite as much. It’s turning into something else. 

“I shouldn’t have tried so hard to get away,” she confesses. She was scared then. She’s scared now too, but this fear doesn’t make her lose hope in her life, and instead gives her bravery and courage. Or maybe it’s just Mal. 

He shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he starts, and tucks a curl behind her ear, his smile soft. “We’re here now.” 

What was now? Maybe her state of mind, warm, comforting, content. Maybe what she feels, scrunched up dress shirt under her hands. Maybe the smells, the sea, the marker of that one fateful night, and the future, starting tonight. 

Maybe now isn’t a time at all. It expands beyond that; a person, a place, a thing, a feeling that runs deep throughout her and extends out to him, bringing their lives closer together until they align at the perfect moment. And maybe that was now. 

“We’re here now,” she repeats. Maybe they would be here forever. Maybe they could have forever. 

He brings his head close to hers, their foreheads touching. Loving Mal is the easiest thing she does, as natural to her as breathing. She thought she knew him inside and out before, but now she truly does, unlocking the door where she lives in his heart, and stepping through. Where his heart belongs to her. 

“And we’re going to have forever,” he whispers, “because I love you. Alina Starkov.” 

“And I love you. Mal Oretsev.” 

There, shimmering, it floats past her, and she grabs on tight, lets it sweep her away.

She’s never letting go. 

[jaedore]

BINDING BONDS | 11

< prev 

parings: jung jaehyun x reader

genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, asshole Jaehyun, swearing

[ ☽ smut | ◇ angst (mental health, therapy) | ☼ fluff ]

note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue. MINORS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, but I advise you to skip the sexual parts.

[ 10.7 words ]

The brisk winter wind pierces your cheeks and flows past your hair as you look at the view in front of you, the door to your balcony slightly opened. The distant image of the Eiffel Tower illuminates the city below your feet bringing bittersweet memories from long ago. It’s been five years. Five years since you felt his touch, funny how you could still feel his fingertips between other men you decided to indulge yourself in. It made it hard to stay until the sun rose. You hated yourself for it, but how else were you supposed to forget about the man who didn’t want to marry you? His ghost never left you, though. It followed you wherever you went, making you go crazy. That’s why you left the town where the love bloomed and broke, settling down in the city of love, how ironic. Your actions were always contradicting and it still is to this day.

In those five years, you quickly took over the CEO position of Audace, giving your mother the gift of early retirement. Into your first couple of years, you were listed Top 20 in Forbes Magazine, immediately gaining attention for your designs. You always reminded yourself to be humble whenever someone praises you for your work, you weren’t the only one with the hands behind the designs, of course.

Everything was the way it was supposed to be, you felt like the timeline had finally restored itself like it was your job to do so. You haven’t heard much about Jaehyun, you tried to avoid all news outlets about him as much as you could. But it was hard when the image of him would be spread across magazines, you figured that he did dip into the field of modeling, he was bound to with that beautiful face of his. You were roaming the streets of Paris when your eyes brisked over the stand that sold magazines, his face immediately catching your attention. You were proud of him, he looked like he was doing well, better. As you said, you steered away from the topic of him, afraid that maybe you still weren’t over him even if it’s been a couple of years.

News also came out that Jaehyun’s father was finally kicked out of Jung Corporations for his conviction of abuse, no matter how long ago it was, Jaehyun finally grew the courage to stand up to his father. Of course, the stocks plummeted, but with Jaehyun’s quick words of persuasion and work ethic, they soared the next year, earning Jung Corporation a spot on the Forbes Top 20, also. You remember smiling when you saw his company’s name on the same list as you, he did it.

As for the contract of your marriage, it was currently on hold, creating dust in its existence. As time moves on, your mother hopes that you can reopen the contract, but she knows that it’s more than that now, so she leaves it to you, since you’re presently the CEO of Audace and made all the decisions. You’d think that you’d shred that contract by now, but you haven’t. What’s been stopping you?

Jaehyun has made sure to spread his face on every single cover on a magazine, hoping that you’d come across it and come home to him. Ever since you left, he’s gotten no trace of you. He’d call you, text you, but got nothing. He quit trying the third year, thinking that you had blocked him or got a new phone number because he never heard an answer back. Jaehyun even reached out to Haewon and Mark, but they never got the answer he wanted because you never told your closest friends. Were you selfish to do that to them? Too bad that Haewon knew you too well to find out where you were, but trustworthy enough to seal her lips.

It took Jaehyun a long time to accept that you were gone, the memory of you felt like a dream to him. Waking up alone every morning brought anguish to him, the sun telling him that you never came back and that you probably never will. Sometimes he thinks he’s going insane because his memories of you are so distant.

That’s why he traveled to every possible country he’d assumed you’d be in, New York, Los Angeles, Tokyo, Shanghai, London, and even Paris. So when you heard the word of the newest, hottest bachelor was coming to Paris, you knew you’d have to go into hiding because the newest, hottest bachelor was your ex. Being on the cover of dozens of magazines sure had its perks, but for Jaehyun, all he wanted to do was find you. That’s why he left Paris after three weeks, thinking that you had for sure resided there. Which you had, you just didn’t have the courage to come out and face him. You sure did a hell of a good job erasing your existence from his world. You were stubborn, he’s always known that he just didn't know he’d have to go to these lengths to come to that conclusion.

Life went on like that, you two lived your separate lives like there wasn’t a string attached to your fingers, you felt like you two were always meant to say goodbye. Jaehyun has never dared to touch another, for you, and only you solely have his heart. He’d give it to you over and over again if it means getting hurt again. Of course, he didn’t know about your short-lived rendezvous because while you found your lust in other men, begging yourself to be open and find someone, it was never them that refused your love, it was your own doing because you could never find yourself to stay the night. Goodness, you just wanted to feel again. You wanted to love, love like how the sun goes down for the moon every start of the night.

“You’re not staying the night?”

“Not tonight, Yuta.” you gave him a small smile as you picked up your discarded dress on the floor.

The Japanese model propped himself on his elbows, whistling at your figure as you slip your dress on. You narrowed your eyes at him until you realized a few buttons to your Versace Sweetheart Cady Single-Breasted Blazer was missing.

“Really?” you sighed, falling on your knees to search the floor for those stupid buttons.

“What are you looking for?” Yuta sat up, watching you crouch below the bed.

“You ripped this too hard that the buttons popped out, Yuta,” you snapped.

“It’s fine. Go, I’ll find it. It gives me another excuse to see you again,” he smirked at you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, glancing at him, “that’s very unlikely.”

“And why is that?”

Spotting the lost buttons under the bed, you snatched them in your hand and stood up, giving him a sly look, “Because I never give a man a second chance.” Grabbing your clutch, you smiled at him before shutting the door, seeing him chuckle to himself in denial as he fell back on the bed with his hands behind his head.

That was a lie, you do give men a second chance, but the only man you’d give it to is Jaehyun. No matter how long it’s been, how old you were, how forgotten your relationship was with him, you know that he will always have you, be a part of you.

Tomorrow you were leaving to go back home. It’s been a while since you’ve been back and your parents dearly missed you. It was the annual charity ball your family always attended and they wanted you to come to create social networks with others to build Audace. You were a little hesitant because you knew Jaehyun was going to be there, you just didn't know if you were ready to face him or even to just see him.  

You leave early in the morning so you could land back home by sunrise. And with your bags already packed, you wondered if tonight would finally give you the rest you needed. You spent countless nights unable to sleep, you think it’s insomnia, but your heart tells you differently. You’ve invested in useless doctors that only tell you to just take those ludicrous melatonin gummies. Of course, they never helped.

You throw your bag onto the chair next to your bed, everything was set for you to leave for tomorrow. Your passport, luggage, duffle bags were all in place at the door and for the slightest second, you felt excitement electrocute through your body.

Maybe it was just you, but the smell of home brought you wistfulness. Should I have stayed? Would everything have been better if I stayed? You had no idea where Jaehyun was or if you’d ever see him on your little trip back home. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t see you, you didn’t even bother coming out of your shell when he did.

“Y/n!!!” A familiar squeal was heard from the echoes of the airport.

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh with a smile on your lips. You turn around to see Haewon running to you with a lovely smile on her face, “Hey,” you embrace her in a tight hug, wafting the same perfume she wore when you two were younger.

“You haven’t changed one bit,” Haewon pulled you away by the shoulders, examining your face. You’d beg to differ, but she’d disagree, “I mean, you aged backward! Your skin is glowing and you look so beautiful and youthful. Paris must’ve done its justice on skincare!”

You laugh at her witty remarks, “No, no, no! If anything, you’ve changed! Look at you, you still look like how you did 5 years ago!

“Stop,” Haewon waves at you in disagreement, “come. Let’s get you home,” she grabs onto your arms and heads to the car as her assistants drag your things behind you two.

“So tell me all about Paris!” Haewon blinks at you with wide eyes, like a child excited to receive their favorite candy.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything! From fashion to food to the monuments. I want to know everything, y/n,” she begs.

You tell her everything. From the fashion shows that you were able to manage, to the sweet and savory meals, even to the fountains in Paris, you told her everything that your fingers brushed past. Haewon sat in envy, wishing that she visited you more often. There was a snip of a moment where regret weighed in your heart, maybe you should’ve called her to come. As you finished telling her about your adventures, you two sat in silence, the hum of the car filling the car. It’s been a while since you saw her and she looked so satisfied to finally have you home even if it was just for a few days.

“How’s Jaehyun?” Your voice barely meets a whisper that almost misses her ears.

Thinning her lips, Haewon looked at you with sincerity but with a little pity, “he’s okay, I think. With modeling and the company, he’s been busy so he hasn’t hung out with Mark a lot. Mark says that he’s doing a lot better, he’s been going out a lot the past couple of years, but he doesn’t talk to anyone or bring them home. We both think that it’s because he’s still not over you, he also still doesn’t talk to Chaeyoung anymore.”

You nod, you weren’t necessarily expecting anything, you just wanted to check up on him, but his name still makes you miss the happier times with him. You hold Haewon’s words like a string in front of you, I hope he is doing better.

The car rolls up to the familiar view of her apartment building, more trees were added around the rectangular architecture bringing out the bareness of it due to the cold weather. As your feet patted the snow, the way up to her apartment was almost unfamiliar. You always thought you’d know the steps to specific places with your eyes closed, but it raised a question to your mind. What if you forgot the most important things? What would you do then? Would they even be important if you had already forgotten them in the first place?

When Haewon opened the door to her apartment, everything about it had changed. The couch was on the opposite side of the room, the dining table that used to be horizontal was now vertical, giving it more space, and the color scheme that was once in hues of pink and greens was now white and browns.

“Wow,” your eyes widen, taking in all the changes, “love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thank you,” Haewon smiled proudly, “the pink and greens were getting old. Plus, I feel like this is more mature for me.” her laugh rings in your ears as you scan her kitchen, she’s even got new dishes.

You smile back at your best friend, “It’s nice.”

You sit comfortably on her couch as she makes you some warm tea. Your eyes skim through her walls, pictures of you remained nailed to it but in different frames, she’s even added new ones from when she visited you in Paris.  Below them, there were green plants in grey vases, giving it the earthly vibe she always had in her.

“Here,” Haewon hands you your cup of tea as she sits beside you, “so you’re gonna stay with your parents?”

“Yeah, they miss me a lot and I miss them too, so it won’t hurt to stay.”

She pouts a little bit enough for you to notice her bottom lip jutting out, “Aw, that’s okay. Just promise that you’ll say goodbye to me before you leave. If you leave like last time, I’m gonna tell Jaehyun where you are,” Haewon threatens you.

“Hey!” your eyes enlarge in seriousness. You hope she doesn’t and you know she won’t but there’s a sliver of desire that you want her to.

“I’m just kidding, I won’t. I know you don’t want that,” she holds your hand after seeing how serious you were, “You and your little game of fate.” Haewon laughs as she strides to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks.

By the time you’ve binge-watched a series, finished a whole meal of Chinese takeout, you were drained and out of it. You know it’s getting late as the stars are the only source of light in the sky, other than the street lights.

“I should get going,” you grabbed your jacket that draped over the couch, but when you didn’t hear a peep from Haewon, you turned your head to see her asleep with her mouth opened to the ceiling. You chuckle at the amusing sight of your best friend knocked out with deranged hair and a little drool at the corner of her mouth. You turn off the tv and cover her with the cotton quilt before you kiss her forehead, “goodnight.”

As you quietly shut the door, you call for a cab knowing that you’re on the brink of almost being too late, but since no one’s out, by the time you reach the entrance, the driver is already there and waiting for you.

The night winter air hits your cheeks, turning it a crimson red along with the point of your nose. Home was always the coldest in the wintertime and hottest in the summer, there was no in-between. Puffs of grey smoke escape your mouth as you sit in the heated car, rubbing your hands together for more warmth. You tell the driver your address as you lean back in the seat, letting the drive paint your window with the outside scenery until you see the familiar sight of your home. When you do, you tip the driver with a heavier tip because it’s late at night before striding up to the front gates.

When you walk in the mansion, the lights are off darkness pooling into the large vacant home, echoing your heels. You’re quiet in your steps that lead to your room, afraid that you’d wake your parents up. The empty hallway that leads to your room is still filled with the same pictures, the smell coming from the same candles, the same flowers in the same vases, nothing has really changed around here. It’s as if you never really left, it makes your mind drift to your former shared apartment with Jaehyun. Has he changed anything since I’ve left? Is everything still the same? Does he still even live there? It’s a bittersweet memory, it really is, but you hope for the positive, your heart silently wishing things hadn't been the way it was. That you stayed that night in his arms, hearing his silent breathing as you comb your fingers through his soft, floppy hair. To have his head laying on your chest, hearing your heartbeat go at peace because he was in your arms. You got the good side of him.

You strip off your clothes, discarding them on the cream rug, and letting the warm water spill on your body. Life is a series of choices and if you are lucky enough, miracles. Your youthful mind would have disagreed and thought that you’d do things based on choices, but now, you’re convinced that if fate allows it, it shall be. Miracle or not, you will welcome it with open arms, you’ve grown accustomed to detachment and self-growth. Maybe you were saving yourself for Jaehyun because maybe you truly weren’t over him. Either way, you detach yourself from every man you’ve met because you had a sliver of hope that fate was going to lead him to you. But were you wasting your time in doing so? What if in the end, he wasn’t even yours? You dip your head, letting the water swim through your hair, giving it slight weight. I’m thinking too much. You rub your eyes, not knowing if the sting was from your developing tears or the water. Suddenly, you reach to turn off the water and give yourself a quick dry ahead of pulling your pajamas on.

And now you’re on your bed, your eyes still light as a feather. Your nights always consisted of this, unclosed eyes, frequent gazes at the ceiling or the window by your side, and sometimes tear-stained cheeks. The theory of possibly seeing Jaehyun crossed your mind the entire night, you know you were bound to see him soon so you needed to mentally prepare yourself for the moment. Thankfully for the long night Haewon provided for you, the thought of Jaehyun finally left his home in your mind and you found yourself slowly falling into slumber, anticipating another visit from him in your dreams.

“Honey, honey...honey,” Shaken awake by the sweet voice of your mother, you woke up to the image of her sitting on the edge of her bed. Just like the home, she looked like she didn’t age a day. She was as beautiful as you last remembered her.

“Morning, mother,” you yawn, stretching your limbs towards each side of the wall.

“More like afternoon,” she scoffed, pulling the sheets from you.

You instantly curl your body into a ball, cursing yourself for only wearing a long t-shirt and shorts. You peered at the clock by your bedside seeing 12:30 glancing right back at you. “Sorry, long day yesterday.”

“That’s okay. Get up now, get ready, go eat, and let’s go find a dress for you. The ball’s in a few days.”

Obeying your mother, with stiffness in your body, you were able to brush your teeth, comb your hair, and put on a presentable outfit. As you walk down the stairs to the dining room, you see your mother and father holding hands, laughing as they eat. You stopped in your tracks, standing still on the stairs as your hand gripped on the rail, watching them enjoy each other’s company. A little bit of your heart envied the sight in front of you, all you wanted was to love someone. To care for them, love them, and grow old. Most of all, you wanted to do all of those things with Jaehyun, but-

“You’re here! Come eat, we have to hit the stores before traffic gets heavy,” your mother waves you, immediately cutting you from your thoughts.

You greeted your parents as you sat down. Everything in front of you was luxurious, there were fancy sandwiches, bowls of freshly washed fruit, and cut out aged cheese, along with the bottles of wine scattered across the table. You didn’t even know where to begin, you missed everything from home, especially the food.

“Hurry, eat! I have a ton of places we have to check out,” your mother is persistent in finding you the most extravagant dress, a present for your return home for the couple of days you were here. It’s been 5 years since you’ve been back, of course, she wanted to go all out for her only daughter.

“Okay this,” your mother points at the lake green colored dress that hugs your body, the silken fabric falling at your feet, “is the one,” with wide eyes she slowly stands up and walks to you with arms open.

“Really?” you tilt your head to the side, observing your reflection.

“Pair it with some clear heels, signature earrings to elongate your neck, leaving the chest open, and voila, the perfect outfit.” the employee persuades you, as they should because that’s what you ended up purchasing.

“Oh no,” the employee waves his hand at you, dismissing your mother’s card, “that gentleman already paid for your entire attire,” he points behind you and you snap your head in his direction.

Like the time had slowed down, the most handsome man that has ever come into your life, stood across the store from you. His gentle gaze sits on your shoulders, but it embraces you instead of piercing through you. His tall physique has become lean, more muscular yet toned. His signature dark hair was styled like the last time you saw it, it was always your favorite.

“Jaehyun,” your whispered tone comes out as a gasp at the man who stood several feet from you.

A friendly smile sits on his face as the air returns to your lungs and as your brain begins to function again. What a sight you desperately missed. You longed to run to his arms and to hug him, kiss him, love him like the old times, but your feet remind you to stop as soon as you see a pair of arms slither his arm. A woman, just around your age interlocks her hand with his and smiles brightly at him. She’s as gorgeous as you can imagine, probably a model, for her body and frame compliments his.

You clear your throat, regaining poise, and give him a slight nod, careful to not look at him again as you turn yourself around to thank the cashier and scurry out of the store.

“That was Jaehyun, wasn’t it?” Your mother cautiously asks, quickly catching up to you.

“L-let's just goes mother, p-please,” you stutter as you reach the car and attempt to open the door, begging her to unlock it.

Cranking up the air conditioner, you rest your head between your hands as they rub your temples. You ask yourself again and again what just happened and if you actually saw him, but your brain knew better than your heart, you did in fact see Jung Jaehyun standing just a few feet from you.

“Are you okay?” she rubs your back as you try to steady your breathing.

“I’m fine, can we just please go home now? We have my dress,” you beg.

Your mother starts the car right away, aware of your little episode. You think that maybe you’re overreacting a little bit, but this was all physical. If you could control it, you would and you wouldn’t be in such a crouched position feeling this way.

When you finally feel your heartbeat becoming steady again, you sit up and lean back into the seat, you stare out the window, completely dazed. You feel like you didn’t even experience seeing Jaehyun. For the first time in five years, he still tugs your heart and how stupid you feel for thinking that there could be the smallest room for you in his heart when you were the one who left him, ignored him, written yourself off from his story. Of course, he already had somebody, somebody that loves him, cares for him, far better off than what you could’ve done. You were the one that left, what were you truly expecting at this point?

As the car drives up to your home, you’re quick to strip yourself and bury under the covers. The room is dark and silent, the most dangerous time for your mind to wander. Fear settles under your skin when the thought of ending up alone crosses your mind. You’ve been alone all of your life before Jaehyun even showed up, who knew how hard it’d be to go back to the forgotten feeling of being alone.

You hadn’t noticed that you’ve knocked out when a faint knock sounds from your door. Your eyes slowly open, but along with your head, it’s too heavy from your thoughts to lift itself. Slowly as the door opens, Haewon peeks her head through and suspects that you’re still asleep when she sees your body calmly fall and rise. Haewon tip-toes to your bed, lifting her heel, afraid that the clanking noise would startle you awake. Without a word, she sits on the edge of your bed and combs her fingers through your hair, removing the loose strands from your face. She hates seeing you like this, so broken. You’ve worked yourself until you were unable to stand, you’ve dismissed all opportunities to feel something from any man and anyone, most of all, you’ve denied your existing love for Jaehyun. But she knows that you know all of that, you just choose to brush it off your shoulder because that’s what you always did. You’d dust things off and shove them down until you’d combust. Five years of shoving things down have resulted in this.

You stayed that for the next few days, curled up in a ball under the mountain of blankets. You despised yourself for not spending time with your parents with the few days you had, but you could barely get up, you didn’t have the energy to even sit. Your mother brought you soup occasionally and stayed there, making sure you finished it to the last drop. She reassured you that it’s okay, to stay in bed and take your time to heal. She also told you to make time to walk around, talk to the workers in the house, or take a walk in the greenhouse, which you did when you could. Heartbreaks were never easy for you anyway.

Before you knew it, tonight was the night for the Annual Charity Ball. There you stood in front of the mirror in the Marchesa Crystal-Embellished Velvet Gown observing how the dress nestled against your body. You always wore expensive gowns like this, but you felt rather insecure for the first time in a while, maybe the reason was that you were finally home after years of never showing up and felt like you had to prove yourself.

Everyone was gathered in the dimly lit room, waves of laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses filled the massive ballroom. One of the biggest events for the biggest international companies and here you were, not even reaching ten years of CEO experience and now forced to network with those that have been.

“You’re going to do fine,” Haewon rubs your back, “just don’t look intimidating and you’ll be fine,” she winks at you, but you playfully roll your eyes and push her towards the bar where she was already making her way.

A low voice clears behind you, “Ahem-”

You turn around to reveal an old friend, “Mark!” you jump into his arms, missing the embrace from him.

He pulls away from you with a bright smile shining on his face and carefully eyes you, “You look stunning tonight.”

“Wow,” you smiled, “you clean up very well, I must say Mr. Lee.” you gently punch his arm.

Mark playfully winces, but offers you his arm, “Come on, let me get you something to drink.” you happily take a hold of his arm as he leads you to the bar that was elegantly built, chandeliers decorating the area with white marble counters in addition to the handsome bartenders mixing the most luscious refreshments.

“I’ll have an Old Cuban please, and-” Mark glances at you, waiting for your answer.

“And I’ll have a Gin and Tonic, please.”

“Classy,” Mark cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Always have been.”

As you wait for your drinks, Mark and you take your time to catch up. The need to network and talk to others completely dissolves as you two catch up five years of each other’s lives. You avoid the opportunity to take another drink as Mark orders his second one, but time is lost when you two are immersed in each other’s stories. It makes you realize how much you’ve missed him and how much you missed everyone’s life when you left.

“So where have you been?” The burning question leaves his mouth and you hope that he’s too tipsy to even hear or wait for your answer.

“Just-” you hesitate, seeing his state of giggles and blushed cheeks, “around the globe, traveling here and there.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head, “No, but like, where have you been? You left without saying goodbye and you were gone for five years, y/n.” even though it held humor, you knew Mark enough to know he was being serious.

“I was...I was in-”

“Come on, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I thought we were friends.”

“We are Mark, we are!” you repeat to the male, “but I just needed to get away from all of this, I needed to leave.”

“Leave because of what? Because of Jaehyun?”

And like a fever dream, your eyes meet with the owner of the name. He’s across the ballroom, this time his gaze piercing through your chest. It’s intense and possessive, yet also holds a longing for you. A whispered gasp rolls from your throat and your eyes scatter anywhere on your lap, avoiding to look up.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, “I have to go to the bathroom,” you leave a tipsy Mark behind as you race for the bathroom.

Dashing to the nearest bathroom, there’s a ring in your ear against the thumping in your heart, and it’s the only thing you can hear because it’s so loud. You push open the door and slam the stall door shut as you lean against the stone stall. You clutch your chest and play with your collar as you catch your breath, a gust of heat coating your body.

“Y/n?” It’s Haewon.

“Y-yeah?” your voice breaks.

“I saw you run in here, you okay, baby?” you can hear her voice becoming louder as the ring in your ears tunes out.

“I’m fine,” you slowly open the stall to see Haewon standing in front of you with a worried expression.

She gives you an absurd look, fully knowing that you are clearly not okay and she brings you into a hug. “Everything’s going to be okay. Do you want to leave? We can go back to your place and just hang out.”

Haewon’s offer sounds tempting, but you had to remind yourself you were here for a reason. You were here to talk and network, yet you let your emotions take over you. Once again. You give her a compassionate look, a small smile stretching your lips, “No, I’m okay now. Thank you for checking up on me, though. Let’s go,” you rub your forehead as she holds onto your hand, leading you back out to where everyone is.

Your eyes scan everyone in the room, seeing who’s here and who’s who, but they scan over certain someone. Someone who chased you away. Jung Jaehyun stood just a mere few feet away from you. His tall, lean physique would still tower over you if he came closer, his eyes still gleamed against the chandeliers, and he still looked handsome as ever. As soon as you see the familiar arms that belonged to the woman you saw at the store a couple days ago, wrap around his, you’re convinced that you’re just a distant memory for him now. You quickly turn your head, making sure to keep your chin lifted as you follow Haewon, who’s already talking to a bunch of businessmen. You step until you're beside her and join the conversation. Several of them were handsome, bachelors, some your age, a little older, and some a little younger.

They were all polite enough for you to jump in, they included you in their jokes, making you clutch your stomach in laughter. They were good at keeping your mind away from straying.

“So, Y/n,” Johnny Seo, a corporate bank owner speaks up, “how’s the CEO position of Audace treating you?”

“It’s great. You know life is kinda fun when you love what you do,” you reply, earning groans from a bunch of them.

“You’re lucky you were born into such a life like that,” a car enterprise CEO named Ten, speaks up.

You quickly laugh before the conversation turns into a serious one, “you’re always welcome to dream a life that you want if you have the drive for it.” You smile at him before turning your back and heading out to get air.

Outside the ballroom leads to a greenhouse, the lush trees and vibrant-hued flowers compliment the sunset that sits on the horizon outside of the warm, glass structure. Making your way on the stone steps that lead to the edge of the greenhouse that overlooks the city below you, you inhale a deep breath and slowly let it out as you gaze at the orange and pink sky.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” A voice expresses behind you.

“Yeah,” you simply reply before your eyes widen. You knew that voice, you could pick it up from anywhere at any time because it always brought you peace of mind.

The owner of the voice walks until he’s beside you, his body coming in your peripheral vision. At that moment, the familiar smell travels to your nostrils, the warmth from his body embraces your cold one, and that’s when you knew you had nowhere else to go.

“I was talking about you,” Jaehyun replied, his eyes glued to the view in front of him.

You slightly drop your head to the ground, staring at your shoes. There’s a dreading feeling that sits in your bones, anxious if he was going to ask you a series of questions of where you were or why you were gone for such a long time. You weren’t expecting him to approach you but little did you know, he’s been waiting all night to.

“Thank you,” you whisper, keeping your gaze stuck on your shoes. In the corner of your eye, you can see him shifting until he’s fully facing you, but you’re good at doing what you’ve been doing.

“Y/n, where have you been?” Jaehyun asks, his voice is tainted with sadness, yet tinted with a little bit of frustration. “You’ve been gone for five years and I haven’t seen you, talked to you ever since you left. You haven’t picked up any of my calls, you haven’t answered any of my texts. I know I blew up on you and we broke things off, but I-” he slightly pauses to calm himself down. You’re next to him, eyes on your expensive shoes and you look absolutely breathtaking to him. You haven’t aged one bit, you still look like your younger self when he met you, still youthful and beautiful. Like always, you were a literal angel. Instead of continuing to speak, Jaehyun clutched your shoulders and pulled you in his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame.

You let out a surprised gasp when your body collided with Jaehyun’s. The tightness of his arms constricted you like he was trying to tell you to stay. He holds you in that moment, afraid to let you go, knowing that you weren’t going to come back for the next couple of years. Tears begin to grow in his eyes as he feels your arms wrap around his body, your gentle touch brings him to his knees, brings him to tears.

“Jaehyun, please,” you bleed, your voice broken.

He instantly pulls away to see you crying and brings his palms to your cheeks, “Please don’t cry.” he begs you because he knows that if he continues to watch you cry, he would also cry. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean a word back then. I wanted to marry you, I still do. I just said those words out of anger and I know I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry. Please, y/n, will you ever forgive me?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, closing your eyes, letting the tears stream down your face.

“Don’t,” he shakes his head, “I am. I am sorry,” a tear leaves the corner of his eye and he rests his forehead against yours, letting his emotions take over him.

You two stay like that for a bit, holding onto each other, basking in each other’s presence with the sun setting behind you. You gently pull away, holding onto his hands, the ones that became stronger over the past few years, the ones that always set your skin to flames.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. Jaehyun gives you a questioning look, “but I have to go.” you bring his hands together, pressing them against your lips before you set them beside his side.

“Please don’t leave me again.” his voice cracks, his heart is unable to bare life without you again.

Your innocent eyes catch him and before you know it, Jaehyun’s proximity is so close you can feel his breath float on your lips. Functioning on your emotions, you close the distance, gently pressing your lips on his. And it’s like you haven’t forgotten the feeling of his lips, you’d never forget it whenever you kissed, it’s like water after a marathon. It’s like sleep after a hard day, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. But you could no longer have this kind of luxury.

You cup his face, pulling yourself from his lips, “I’m sorry Jaehyun,” you give him a sad smile before backing away, leaving him once again, alone.

As Jaehyun watches you leave, he doesn’t chase after you. He knows you still love him and he still loves you, if fate allows it, you’ll come back. You always do.

Saying goodbye was harder than you thought, but it was the hardest with Jaehyun. You never said goodbye to him, you just left him there as you did before. You were always leaving, always shoving your emotions down, never facing them head-on.

Life wasn’t always easy, but you tried to make the most of it. You missed Jaehyun dearly, although there was a big part of your heart that longed for him and wanted to go back home to him, a larger part of yourself knew that your clocks were no longer in sync. You both have given each other love and growth and taught each other how to forgive, whether it was silent forgiveness or verbal. Every day you hope that you’d have the courage in yourself to let him back in your life, you know it’s there and you’re ready, you just needed the extra push.  

It’s been months since you returned home. The brisk, winter wind finally cooled you down whenever you opened your windows. The trees were a lush green, blooming with yellow flowers on the tips, and there were chatters from below your window. The people of Paris always loved coming out in the summer to attend the town marketplace, picking fresh produce and bundles of colorful bouquets to bring to their loved ones. Every Saturday you made sure to also go, it was a good way to make friends and grocery shop.

In your stay in Paris, you made a small group of friends. The five of them were always good at bringing you to tears with their jokes and spontaneous stories, it was like being a careless teenager again. Since everyone was always busy with their own lives, you guys made sure to schedule a time of the month to get dinner and catch up. Tonight was one of those nights. Since they’re more on the extemporaneous side, the reservations were always bounced around within the city, giving you the gift of tasting every fine cuisine. Tonight’s reservation was at the Le Jules Verne, the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. That place holds a special place in your heart, heck, this entire city did. You would be lying if you didn't miss Jaehyun every time you’d pass a place you passed long ago on your visit here with him.

“Hey! Y/n, you’re here!” Julian greets you from the table.

“Hi,” you hug her before sitting in your seat, “Adalene isn’t here yet?” you scan the seats as one sits vacant.

“No, you know how she is,” Estelle rolls her eyes from across the round table, “always late.”

“It’s okay, we’ll order wine first,” Diane chirps, raising her hand to the waiter.

You sit yourself down, shifting in your seat to make yourself comfortable. Conversations and giggles are exchanged from across the table, from the hottest gossip to old stories, everything was always such a good memory with these ladies. The food that was brought was slowly chomped down throughout the night, making the night go by a little faster than usual, but you weren’t complaining, you always had a good time with your friends, but something about this place just brought you nostalgia and slowed time down. After a while, the wine bottle was sipped and emptied, while blinded smiles were painted across everyone’s faces with a slight blush.

“Ma’am,” your waiter came to your side of the table.

“Yes?” You glance at him, with a questioning look, your eyes curiously staring at the beverage in his hand.

“The man from the bar brought your drink,” he nodded at the bar, but you were too busy already reaching for it and sipping it.

The glass of red wine looked all too familiar, you knew the texture of it, the smell, and the taste. You memorized on melancholy nights where you locked yourself in your apartment and looked at pictures of Jaehyun or read articles of him. It was the wine that you two had the first time you two came to Paris. It was always hard to forget several little puzzle pieces of him.

As your friends ogled at your bizarre behavior of quickly downing the drink, you finished it in a couple of gulps and set the glass down. Your eyes skimmed the bar, but no sight of Jaehyun was there. You sighed and excused yourself from the table, you were completely losing it that you needed to get fresh air. But as soon as you opened the doors to the balcony of the Eiffel Tower, there he was. His eye-catching self leaning over with his hands clasped before him.

Your forehead creased, “Jaehyun.”

He turned to you, and boy, was this man very dapper in his dark suit with his hair gelled back. You always loved that look on him and now that he’s illuminated in the moonlight, it was a sight you never thought you’d be able to see.  

“Love,” his nickname makes your heart skip a beat, “you got my drink?”

You nodded, slowly making your way to him, “what are you doing here in Paris?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he mumbles under his breath, head falling forward following with a little chuckle, “but I think I know the answer.”

You stay silent beside him, looking at the dark sky that’s littered with stars. With Jaehyun by your side in Paris, it feels as if he’s always been here. It feels like your first time here with him again.

“Congratulations on your successes by the way,” he says, a sincere smile across his lips.

“Thank you, you too.” you return, “Being on Forbes list, especially. That’s a big achievement.”

“Thanks, it was hard after- all of that,” he implies to the incident of his father and how everything went crashing down after that.

“But hey-” you turn to him as he does the same to you, “-you did it. I always knew you could.”

Jaehyun smiles at you, “I got help too,” he whispers, fumbling with his fingers. He lets out a quiet chuckle, “I still am.”

“That’s good, I’m proud of you. I understand how helpful that can be, let me know if you need anything.” you silently say the last part, quietly shunning yourself because you haven’t been present in his life.

Jaehyun thanks you, but looks at you, his gaze peering at your face. Oh how much he’s missed seeing you, having you this close to him. “I’m still in love with you,” he blurts out. Your breath pauses as you turn his way. Your eyes scan his face and it tells you that he genuinely means it.  “And I mean it. There hasn’t been a day where I don’t miss you, where I love you less. Hell, having you not by my side makes me love you even more. It makes me crazy.” He confesses.

You’re dead frozen in your stance, the wind gushes through both of your hair, messing yours up more. Maybe this was a sign, a sign that the world is telling you that the time is now because a large part of yourself knows that if it’s not now, it’s never. The look on his face tells you how much love the man in front of you holds for you and you know that it’ll be there forever. There’s not a question of doubt that crosses his face and nothing will stop him from leaving because he knows you feel the same way. He almost knows you more than you.

“I love you, Jaehyun. I never stopped,” you reveal, your voice slightly breaking from the river of tears you were now producing.

Jaehyun brings you into a hug, his arms find his place around your body and it feels like the last puzzle piece has been placed. He sniffles with you in his arm, he’s dreamt of this moment every night. That you’d be back in his arms and that your love is still there for him. Feeling like this is almost too good to be true, Jaehyun pulls back to see you. Your makeup is almost smeared, but your eyes are delicate as he gazes into them.

Just as you felt the wind dance through your hair once again, Jaehyun pulls you to him, his lips settling on yours, letting the familiar feeling of comfort take over him.

(a/n: lol listen to kendrick lamar’s love [slow + reverbed] it’ll set the mood hehe)

You struggle to lock your apartment door as you both enter with fumbling feet, tangling your shoes with your fingers as it pleads to be taken off. Once the last shoe hits the ground, Jaehyun pushes you against the wall, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse as he sucks onto your bottom lip. You envelop your hands over his and put it on his chest to let him take his clothes off so you can take off yours smoothly. You can feel a small smile growing on his lips and you pull slightly back.

“I just can’t believe that you’re here with me right now,” he whispers against your lips.

“And I’m here forever,” you coo, reaching for his hand. You lead him to your bedroom, occasionally looking back at him to give him a sly smile. As soon as you’re about to turn the lights on, Jaehyun stops you.

“Leave them off, I love looking at you when the moonlight is shining on your glistening skin,” his voice lowers and it makes your legs go weak.

And just like that, clothes were shed like a second skin and now Jaehyun towered above you. What a wonderful sight to see after a few years. Your fingers trailed from his chest, down to his abdominals, feeling each straining muscle against your fingertips, until it was met with his manhood. Your eyes innocently glanced up at him when you gently grabbed his cock, pressuring the tip just a bit before bringing your hand to it, rubbing it in your palm.

“Oh, baby, you always know how to make me feel good,” Jaehyun lowers himself until he’s groaning in your ear.

You know you’re doing a pleasing job when you feel the tough grip on your hips and when the other hand comes to your core. Jaehyun lets out a little scoff when he realizes how wet you already were.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in your ear.

“Only for y-you,” you stutter, “oh shit,” your back arches when Jaehyun plunges two fingers in without any warning. Both of your hands shoot up to hold onto his arms as he finds a quick pace for his fingers, occasionally circling his thumb on your clit.

“Baby, baby,” Jaehyun hums as he lowers himself onto his free elbow to litter you with hickies across your neck, later leading to your chest.

Everything is blurred and everything is going so fast, you’re almost convinced that this isn’t even happening, that this is just another dream of yours. You struggle to relax as Jaehyun stops in his tracks, which results in you shooting up to prop yourself on your elbows to only see Jaehyun lowering himself down to your dripping, wet core.

This is definitely not a dream. You let out a loud moan when Jaehyun presses his hot tongue against your core, letting his teeth gently nip at the lips of your pussy.

“Tell me, angel,” the vibrations of his voice shoots pleasure through your spine, “did you fuck anyone while you were here?” You wince when he doesn’t hear an answer from you and harshly pats your pussy. “I don’t like being ignored, you know that, don’t you?” a smirk stretches across his face seeing you sexually frustrated, but you persistently nod.

“I-I did,” you let out another wince when he carefully slaps it again. Jaehyun shakes his head, almost in disappointment, but you pay no attention to it because you’re so aroused at this point that you just need to feel him in you.

“Bad girl,” he shakes his head as he lowers himself back down. His hot breath fans across your clit, making you involuntarily clench around nothing, and Jaehyun notices it but shakes his head.

“Please,” you groan, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“So you’ve been a busy girl, huh?” He mumbles against your pussy.

“Yes, yes, I have been. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you’re in a frenzy. Five years and you haven’t felt his touch, at this point, you feel like he’s just mocking you at this point, “please let me feel you.”

The ability of his tongue is superior to every man you’ve decided to entangle yourself with, no one could match how well Jaehyun could make you feel. And tonight, you were ready to give all of you to him.

“J-Jaehyun,” you drag out, “I’m-”

“What do you want, baby?” Jaehyun asks, looking at you from below.

“E-eat me out.”

Jaehyun lifts himself until he’s hovering over you, there’s darkness in his eyes, foreshadowing that he won’t be gentle. “You have to ask nicely.” he snickers, bringing a hand down to rub your clit, fast.

Your eyes widen from the surprise feeling, a gasp comes out of your mouth and your back arches, your perking nipples touching his chest. Jaehyun seems to notice because he brings his other free hand and pinches it, rolling it between his fingers. You close your eyes, blinded by the feeling and the power he has over you. You’d let him ruin you any way he wants.

“Want...you to...eat. Me. Out, please, please, please,” you’re impatient as you finish your command, sounding snappy, but Jaehyun gives in because he enjoys how needy you sound.

He lowers himself until he’s face to face with your sex again, the wetness and clenching of it arouse him and he doesn’t hesitate to bring his mouth to it, instantly sucking your pussy. You release a loud whine, your hands shooting to his hair. You didn’t expect him to be so rough on you so soon. But he is and as he licks the wetness, drawing circles on your clit simultaneously.

“You taste so good, angel,” he coos, pulling away for a split second before lapping onto your sex again, this time thrusting his tongue in you. The feeling of his tongue fucking you has your stomach tightening, so close to snapping. He lets his tongue explore your walls as he pinches your nipples, forcing them to perk up more than they could.

Jaehyun knows you’re about to climax when your hips begin to rise and your legs start to close in beside his head, but knowing how sensitive you are, Jaehyun gently presses your hips down and pries your legs until they’re as far as your flexibility allows it to go before returning to his deed.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, sweat beading down your temple. Soon, your coil snaps and you’re shaking in Jaehyun’s grasps, but he gives you no time to come down from your high as he instantly thrusts his cock into you. You gasp, eyes widening as you hold onto him, your hands searching for any kind of leverage on him.

Jaehyun lowers his head into the crook of your neck, kissing it as he thrusts harshly against you. He hears your loud winces above him and he supports himself on his elbows, seeing tears on both sides of your face. “I can stop,” he whispers, afraid that he might’ve been overstimulating you too much.

You persistently shake your head, the pain is a bit overwhelming but the pleasure is worth it. “Please don’t,” you croak, bringing Jaehyun back down to you.

He fucks you like the angel you are, praises fumbling from his lips, “you’re so good, baby. You feel so fucking good.”; “No one feels good as much as you do.”; “God I fucking love you and your tight pussy.” praise after praise has you in a trance as he fucks you dumb.

Jaehyun pulls out and you whine from the empty feeling, cold air reaching your sensitive sex. But he lifts you by the hips, his grasp tight on you as he turns you over, lifting you until you’re on all fours. Jaehyun brings his hand hard on your ass, “promise me you won’t fuck anyone anymore unless he’s me,” he commands with a growl in his voice.

“I promise,” you whine, voice desert dry.

Content in your words, Jaehyun thrusts into you from behind. You let out an elongated cry, his tip reaching farther into you, hitting that sweet, sweet spot repeatedly. His grip on your hips tightens as you look forward to the bruises in your hips the next day.

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” Jaehyun hums, “still tight for me after all these years.”

You moan when he reaches for your breast, kissing your back in doing so. A moan escapes your throat, “only for you. Only for you,” you repeat, closing your eyes.

Jaehyun knows you’re dazed, your words are barely coherent, your pants are almost louder than your moans, and he knows you can barely hold yourself up, noticing at your shaking limbs. So, he wraps his arms around your hot, sweaty body and brings you up until your back is pressed against his chest. You groan from the new position that he puts you in, almost as satisfying as the previous one. Jaehyun gently kisses your shoulder and the place where it meets your neck while he rams into you, his actions contradicting. Nonetheless, it holds so much love. Vulnerable, naked bodies pressed together in the moonlight from Paris that illuminates your bedroom. You’re making love with the love of your life and how much of a roller coaster it took to finally get to this point.

“I love you,” you bring your hands around to his hair, combing your fingers through it, earning a groan from your tugging, “I love you so, so much. I love you and only you” you don’t know if your cry comes from the overwhelming feeling of your emotions or the fact that he’s vigorously ramming into you, reaching so far into you, making you feel like you could crumble in that instant.

“I’m close angel,” he moans in your ear.

“In me, come in me,” you beg, squeezing your eyes closed because you know you’re almost there too.

Jaehyun reaches down to your abused sex and draws circles around your sensitive bud, making you arch away from him, but he’s close to bringing you back to his sweating body. Soon you can feel that coil in your stomach snaps. Both of you let out a series of moans and curses and after staying like that for a bit, Jaehyun brings you down on the bed. He lays next to you catching his breath while holding you as you gasp for more, your body twitching from time to time as it calms down.

“You did well, my love,” he kisses your forehead, staying there for a few seconds, “and I love you too.”

Jaehyun doesn’t know whether or not you finally fell asleep, but he slowly pulls back to get a glance at you. In such a time like this, he thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, hair sticking out in various directions as some stuck to your forehead, your swollen lips that sit plumply on your face, the rare beads of sweat that sat on your temples, and the red flush that blushes your face. Everything about this, about you, is perfect for him. It’s a familiar feeling for him when he holds you, kisses you, makes love to you and it takes him a while until he finally realizes that you are his home.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you know it must be around the early afternoon from the fresh sunlight that sneaks through your curtains. You remember the events from yesterday, going out to dinner with your friends, seeing Jaehyun, making love with Jaehyun and that’s when you feel the pair of arms around your waist move just a bit, which confirms that yesterday really wasn’t just another fever dream. With a smile on your face, you turn yourself until you’re facing him. What a beautiful man you managed to get involved with, again. You giggle a little bit when he stirs in his sleep, slightly pouting and you can’t help yourself but peck his lips a couple of times to wake him up.

Your fingers comb through his hair as he struggles to open his eyes, “Hey, sleepyhead,” you laugh.

“Good morning, my love,” whenever Jaehyun calls you that, it makes your heart flip. You felt ridiculous that such a word can make you feel like you're back in high school, experiencing your first, real crush.

“It’s the afternoon,” you mumble, reaching for your phone but he’s quick to wrap his strong arms around your body to keep you close to him.

It’s just like you never left like there wasn’t a whopping five years of nights where you missed being held by him. For you, everything fell back in place. For you, it felt like you were finally back home.

“Hey,” Jaehyun clears his throat and you back away because for a split second you could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Yeah?”

With those dark chocolate orbs of his, Jaehyun looks down at you and you’ve never felt more alive in your years of living. He was only two years older than you, and you’re both still considered young, but he’s convinced that you’re the love of his life. You hope that what he says is something good, because after all of this, what would be the point?

“Will you marry me?”

You shot back, completely shocked with your mouth opened and your eyes wide. You really weren’t expecting such a proposal so soon, especially after seeing him for the first/second time in five years. You’re taken aback and completely speechless, you’re stunned and you think you’re losing it until Jaehyun calls out your name.

“Yes,” you reply, “yes, yes, yes!!! Let's get married!” You gleam, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight embrace.

Jaehyun pulls away from your waist and gives you a sincere look, “I know it’s not the ideal proposal, but I promise when we get back home, I’ll do it right. I’ll do everything right this time,” he declares.

“Oh honey,” you cup his cheek, “there’s nothing you did wrong, we all make mistakes and go through hard times. I’m just glad it all led me back to you.” you lean forward to kiss his forehead as he embraces you again.

It’s time, you were finally getting married to Jaehyun. And for real this time, no contract, no business, just love.

“By the power given to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss each other. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Jung!”

Cheers throughout the venue fades as Jaehyun leans into your lips, a smile adorning his face as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. Flower petals are thrown in the air and smiles are exchanged between each side of the family.

And after the reception, dinner, first dance, cutting of the cake, bouquet tossing, and after everything fate has put you through, everyone bids you goodbye as you and Jaehyun run out of the reception hall. With the sparklers in their hands, complimenting the sunset in front of you, the cheers of encouragement sing through your ears as Jaehyun opens the car door for you. As he gets in, he gives you a teasing chaste kiss, before waving off to everyone and riding into the sunset.

You always had faith in fate, each decision has its own consequences and leads you on different paths. You often think to yourself if you had chosen a different path, where would it lead you? Would it lead you to the same ending? Or would you end up in a different place? And would the person you love the most be there? Yes. The answer is yes, wherever you go, you’re convinced Jaehyun will always be there. He will follow you like the sun and the moon, he will love you like how the moon leaves to let the sun breathe. Jaehyun will love you to the best of his abilities because you taught him to love himself. He’s almost convinced that you saved his life and he couldn’t be more grateful to have someone like you by his side.

Life was always good at never going the way you wanted it to. Like your mother said, “life isn’t fair,” yet at the time she said it, you were too young and only took it as a grain of salt. Little did you know, the world will throw you in several different directions, the world will bash you, judge you, and sometimes make you feel like it hates you. But when you find love, kindness, and forgiveness within yourself and others, everything that brought darkness will complement the light, showing how sometimes bad things happen so you can grow. Life is hard and no one said it was going to be easy, but right now, life is good. Life is great when you’re with Jung Jaehyun.

Fin.

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

The Hangover (Def Leppard x Reader)

(Happy birthday to my blog!! To celebrate 3 years of the place where I concentrate my insane Leppard obsession, I thought I’d celebrate by posting the FIRST Def Leppard fanfic I EVER wrote ((which I have NEVER posted anywhere before!)) I began writing this exactly 3 years ago today- the day I made this blog ((February 19th, 2018))- and officially finished it about a year later. This is not intended as a romantic/sexual fic, it’s simply just an x reader in which the reader is basically one of the guys. In other words, it’s on crack.)

((I am aware this is kind of cringe-worthy at times... but I still like a lot of things about it. While I revised it very slightly before queuing it,  I was still 16 when I started writing this, okay... gimme a break...))

(Illustration by @paper-sxn​)

Words: 8,684 Prompt: Dublin, 1984. You’re with the Leppards in their early pre-Hysteria era house. You all wake up with hangovers after a boozed-up night at home, and you each try to put the pieces of the previous night back together. Meanwhile, you’re praying that one particular piece won’t fit in anywhere... (partially inspired by the “Blitzgiving” and “The Pineapple Incident” episodes of How I Met Your Mother)

-----

Gently piercing white light made its way through the windows of the bedroom. It hit your eyelids, and it hit your brain, igniting a brief but killer headache. As your eyes clasped together more, you turned your face into the gloriously soft pillow. For a second you asked yourself why you would have a headache so early in the morning, but then…

You laughed quietly into the bed, recalling without warning some vague happenings from the night before. There wasn’t much you remembered, but you clearly saw the image of the guys flat out drunk at some point (you along with them). There were some blips of you all singing together, Sav hanging from a door frame, you chugging some scotch, Joe chugging some vodka, Steve’s hair being in pigtails, and you think Phil might’ve been giving you a lap dance... or vice versa. It was, all in all, hysterical (at least- that’s what you wanted to think).

 Other than those faint events, unfortunately, the night was gone. Still, you were thrilled that it happened. Crazy times with your boys were always good.

You rubbed your eyes, ready for more sleep to combat the pounding in your head. When you did, they opened a little, and you realized… this wasn't your room you were in. Squinting around, you noticed that you were sleeping in Phil’s room instead of yours.

Oh, it’s not that much of a problem, you mused, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I’ve woken up to worse in this place.

You let your eyes close again easily, and you found peace as you began to fall under again. That is, until you felt someone move next to you.

When it happened, you became aware of the warmth coming from someone else in the bed. They only shifted in their sleep a little bit before going still again. Your eyes went wide, and you held your breath. You don’t remember getting into bed with someone (in fact, you don’t remember getting into bed at all). Turning your head, you looked to see what sort of stranger was in bed with you currently. Instead of a stranger, scraggly blonde hair over a kind and shy face met your sight, and you were instantly calmed upon realizing that it was just Steve. That was good, that was good, but why were you and Steve sleeping in Phil’s bed? You were sure you didn’t have sex last night- at least, not with Steve. This tiny moment of appeasement and confusion was cut short by the faint sound of guitar chords coming from downstairs. The music echoed to your ears, signaling that it had to be Phil, and that he was playing the opening to Bringin On the Heartbreak. Cautiously taking the covers off you- not wanting to wake Steve- you felt obliged to go to the other guitarist. When you stood up and began walking, you nearly fell forward from the sudden vertigo of your hangover. You had to hold onto the counter of Phil’s dresser for extra support, and that’s when your reflection in his mirror caught your eye. Not only that, but that’s when your outfit also caught your eye. One of the guys’ Union Jack tank tops had been slipped over you somehow, and two hand prints were on either side of your face in dried paint; one was blue, one was green. "What…?“ you whispered, touching your face and feeling the shirt on you. It seemed to fit you alright, which made you wonder whose it really was. You were also in black underwear, and nothing else. While eyeing yourself, you took notice of Steve in the reflection. You now saw a few big red lipstick stains on his face, untouched and unsmudged. It was pretty cute, you had to admit, but another thing that came to your attention was that it wasn’t you who was wearing the lipstick at the moment. So then who kissed Steve all over his face? You treaded carefully down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other and dragging a hand on the wall for support. The melody of the distant guitar didn’t cease the whole time you trekked through the house to get to Phil. When the chords of the song dragged on to the part where the vocals should have begun, no vocals came. Everything in the house looked remarkably the same (despite everything you remember from last night). There were large, ripped pieces of cardboard in the middle of the hallway;  scattered out as if leaving a trail. Alongside that, there was a piece of paper labeled “pay 2 the orerr of Rick: one fuckin bendee straw” in what may have been Sav’s handwriting on top of the stairs, and blue paint smudged on the railing going downwards (guaranteeing that whoever did that eventually got to your face, too).

Step by step you descended as the scenery of the house teetered around you (a little too reminiscent of Me & My Wine, you would add). When you reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room, sure enough, Phil was there, strumming away.

“But it’s easy come and easy go…” he hummed.

“You’re…” you mumbled, burped a little, and continued, “Awake. How?” He stopped playing and crossed his arms, quietly sassing you, “Ah, she rises again. You regrettin’ anything yet?” You blinked and rubbed your eyes, scratching a little bit of paint off of your face and inquiring in a scratchy, tired tone, “I guess so… but- how? You, how?” Phil took off his guitar and stood up with his hands in his pockets, “Because I barely drank at all last night, and I also sure as hell didn’t shag Steve in someone else’s bed!” “How do you mean- I didn’t- wait- and Steve- what?” you rubbed your head, getting dizzy, causing Phil to guide you to the couch. “I didn’t- I didn’t shag Steve last night,” you insisted. “Mm hmm,” the guitarist hummed disapprovingly, “Alright.” “What the hell are you on about?” Phil smirked evilly and laughed, “He carried you upstairs, we heard the door close, and then some rather happy noises were heard, so we all just assumed-!” “That’s not-” you swallowed and lay your head back on the couch, “-a valid assumption.” “Oh, you poor thing,” came the sarcastic remark, “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Well I figured if I ever fucked any one of you I would- you know- remember it!” you raised your voice at him, then rubbed your temples. “I’m touched, really. But I’ll fill you in a bit,” Phil yanked up his guitar he’d put down, placed himself next to you, and played the into to “Ballroom Blitz”. Then a bit of the night came back to you. “Oh... that’s what started it all, didn’t it?”

~The night before~ Rick began banging out a tune on his drum kit in the house with you, Sav, and Steve sitting close by, them being at the ready with their guitars. “You ready, Steve?” you mimicked the original lyrics. “Uh-huh,” he replied exactly like Steve Priest in the original song. “Savy?” you said next. “Yeah,” Sav bopped his head to the beat. “Rick?” “Okay.” “Alright, fellas,” you called out, “Let’s go!” The two guitarists let their instruments ring out around the house, playing the all-too-familar tune. As soon as they started this, the front door opened, and none other than Phil and Joe walked in. Joe was holding a bag that was weighed down by the mass inside it (a painfully obvious sign that there were a few bottles of booze). Although the two of them weren’t talking, they were physically hushed upon hearing the situation you and the others had created. “Oh life’s been getting so hard, living with the things you do to me…” you sang lowly and quietly along with the music being made, just to make sure the musicians knew their places. You noticed Phil run out of the room in excitement, and into the one where he keeps his guitars. Joe, on the other hand, stayed put and watched the rest of you from afar, fighting a smile. “My dreams are getting so strange, I’d like to tell you everything I see…” You stood up, and Joe began walking towards you when you called out the next line of the song, “Oh- I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes are as red as a sun!” Joe chimed in without warning at the next line, putting an arm on your shoulder and pointing at you, “And the girl in the corner, let no one ignore her, ‘cos she thinks she’s the passionate one!” *** “It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz, it's, it's a ballroom blitz,” Phil sang the ending teasingly to you when he put his guitar back. It felt like he was rubbing his energy in your face (since you lacked it). Before Phil could continue, Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yeah! It’s a ballroom blitz!” he announced, throwing his arms into the air and taking a bow. He sounded a bit tipsy still. Joe was wearing his Union Jack shorts, but no shirt. Instead of a shirt, though, he had the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” sloppily painted across his chest in blue and green paint. Right over his nipples there were also two handprints, almost exactly matching the ones on your face. Joe stumbled in the doorway, falling to his knees and groaning in discomfort, “Ohh... probably should’ve stayed in bed.” Phil sluggishly trekked over to the singer and pulled him partially to his feet, yanking him towards the couch, “Oh yeah? And by ‘bed’, you mean-?” “Definitely not the bathtub.” Joe assured him, but winked at you. “No matter where you slept, it’s still not as bad as where she slept,” Phil pointed at you, “And what she did there.” “Why? What’d you do?” Joe’s tipsiness wore away in his sentence, making him sound genuinely concerned and curious. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Phil was going to say, “Phil, I-” “It’s not what she did, it’s who she did- she shagged Steve in my bed!” the guitarist accused you again while pointing a finger. Immediately Joe exclaimed, “Nice!” and held up a hand to high-five you. “Joe!” you scolded him, surprised that he took this as good news. “Oh-uh, not… nice?” he took away the offer of a high-five and scratched the back of his head awkwardly instead, “Also, is that my shirt?” You took a look down at the Union Jack tank top you were wearing and back at Joe’s torso. Then something clicked in your head. “Ohh…” you continued staring at Joe’s chest, feeling yourself blush as old memories unraveled in your head, “I think... I think I remember something else that happened last night.” *** You were all drunk; it was no lie. After your quick jam session, there was a booze-filled music fest going on in the house. Joe had even put on his Union Jack outfit, pretending he was getting ready for a show. At one particular point of this “festival” you'd all created, records were being played, and you ended up dancing in front of Joe to REO Speedwagon’s “Take It On the Run”. “You’re bringing up your white lines, you’re pullin’ on a bedroom eyes, you say you’re going home, but I won’t say when,” you sang the wrong lyrics as you swayed and drunkingly made flirty faces at Joe on the couch. Sav, meanwhile, was playing with some old craft paint off in the corner. The blue and green substances were all over his hands (but somehow, one color managed to stay on each hand). “Yeah, you dance for him, Y/N!” Rick cheered you on from the kitchen as Steve and Phil sat on the couch. Phil was perfectly sober, and Steve was giggling and laying with his head on Phil’s lap. You, on the other hand, were now moving closer to the singer, almost like you were giving him a lap dance. “You take it on the run, baby,” you sang along, slowly taking Joe’s Union Jack tank top off of him (with no objections from below), “If that’s the way you wanna, baby...” In return to Joe being shirtless, you slowly took off your own shirt (triggering wolf-whistles and cheers from the guys) to replace it with Joe’s tank. “Sav, mark him up!” you ordered the painted bassist in the corner as you tried to dress yourself. He happily made his way over to you and questioned, “What should I mark him with?” A single hazy idea came to you, and you eagerly whispered it into Sav’s ear. He giggled in response, and proceeded to move over to Joe, drawing something on his chest in the paint. To keep Joe from looking at what it was, you went behind the chair and covered his eyes, ordering coyly, “No peeking!” “All done!” Sav announced and retreated back to whatever he was doing in the corner. “Now, wait, Sav!” you sped over to him, lifted his hands up, and double high-fived him, getting the paint on your hands as well. To finish off what Sav had started, you ran back over to Joe on the chair, and slapped your hands on his chest, right over his nipples. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room (including Joe) and you repeated Sav’s words. “All done!” Joe gazed down at the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” on his chest as you continued to dance to the song playing. “You’re mine, now! You take it on the run, baby... if that’s the way you want it, baby...” Joe tried to tell you in a sexy voice, “Am I your baby now?” “If that’s the way you want it baby,” you repeated the words from the song to him, “Now I’m done dancing for you! Somebody dance for me!” Steve began pointing at everyone individually, childishly suggesting, “It should be, eenie, meenie, miney, Phil!” “Why me?” Phil laughed in objection as you took a seat across the room. “Because you’re not wasted,” his terror twin argued, poking him on the nose. The sober guitarist looked over at you with happy anticipation, awaiting a comment, while all you did was wiggle your fingers at him with a goofy grin. After that, you returned the gesture to the man on his lap, giving Steve a sexy wink. *** “Oh my god...” you put your head in your hands shamefully as Phil and Joe giggled at the memory of the previous night, “I can’t believe I did all that...” “That was a treat!” Phil laughed, hugging you from the side and pulling you closer to him in consolation, “It was funny! We never get to see that side of you!” “There’s a certain reason why you don’t...” you moaned with embarrassment, then asked out of guilty curiosity, “How many times did I grab your ass during that lap dance...?" Phil thought for a bit before telling you, “Four. Well- four and a half...” You gave a loud groan of protest as Joe laughed and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, you only did those things because you weren’t thinking!” Phil consoled you, swayed back and forth with you in his arms. Joe chimed in, “Yeah, and see what happens when you don’t think? You do! Most importantly, you do Steve!” “I didn't do Steve!” you shot your head up and yelled at Joe. You received only laughs and snorts from both men in reply. Suddenly, Sav appeared on the staircase and began singing “Squeeze Box” by The Who with a tired yet cheeky smirk, “Mama’s got a squeeze box she wears on her chest, and when Stephen comes home, he never gets no rest-” Joe and Phil joined into his song with, “Cos' she’s playin’ all night, and the music’s alright! Mama’s got a squeeze box, Stephen never sleeps at night!” You just put your head back in your hands, trying not to accept your fate of being teased. You didn’t want to think that you possibly shagged Steve. He always seemed so innocent to you in a way, and you feared that this would kill your friendship. If everything the boys said was true, you would never hear the end of it, and you don’t even know what Steve would think of you from now on. Was it possible that he remembered anything about the night before? “It didn’t happen, it didn’t happen...” you repeated to yourself in a whisper as Phil unwrapped his arms from you. Sav came all the way down the stairs; his body language making him look grumpy with the world, but his tired grin signaling that he was pleased with seeing you. “Oh, it happened, sunshine!” the frizzy-haired bassist laughed, but quickly regretted it and rubbed his head with his still-painted hands, “Ah- yep, it happened. You could probably hear you two up the whole damn street.” As Sav wearily joined you all on the couch, Joe complained, “Sounds like that was a treat; I wish I remembered it!” Phil was caught off guard at the comment. His head turned to Joe in the blink of an eye and gasped, “Wait, you don’t remember hearing them?!” “I wish I could say I do, but there’s nothing there,” Joe stood up after he spoke, and quickly held onto the wall nearby. His hand went over his stomach as he whined, “Oh... fuck, Y/N, why did you make me race you last night?" “'Race me'?” you squinted as you inquired, “Race you with what?” Joe didn’t answer, but slowly took steps into the kitchen, using the wall as his guide. His answer came when you, Sav, and Phil all heard him throw up into the sink. You sighed, resting your hands over your eyes, trying to remember the cause of Joe’s sickness, “Oh no, was that really my idea?” *** “Look what I found!” you trotted into the room tipsily, holding two bottles; one of scotch, one of vodka, “Only half full! Who wants em?” While you weren’t full-on drunk, it was no secret that the title wasn’t that far away. After your little Ballroom Blitz, it was one beer after the next, then it was digging into the fancy liquors that Phil and Joe had just brought home. Your judgment was impaired, no doubt about it, and so was the judgment of all the guys. Joe even changed into his normal live-show-only Union Jack tank top, claiming that he was gonna "put on a show." The only one who was still sane and sober was Phil, who seemed to be staying away from your poison. Upon registering your sacred offer of alcohol, Rick ran forward, chanting, “Me! Me!” You lifted the bottles away from him, commanding, “Uh-uh! I get the scotch.” “Oh, bollocks, then you can keep the vodka,” the young drummer grumbled and turned away from you. Just as Rick rejected your offering, Joe sprung up and eagerly trotted over while shouting happily, “I’ll take it!” “Sold!” you handed the bottle over to him, “Betcha can’t finish before me!” “Betcha I can!” he sneered back before taking the cap off his bottle. There was no official “ready, set, go” for the race; you both just kind of went for it without any saying. While your throat and stomach were already protesting your actions (and you could almost sense that Joe’s were doing the same), you didn’t stop once; neither of you did. You held up your bottle and announced, “Done!” Looking over, you saw Joe was also finished. “I finished first!” “Nuh-uh!” you insisted, “It had to be me! Tell him, guys!” The four others hadn’t been paying attention to you and Joe’s little competition; they were instead focused on a box that Sav had pulled out from a cupboard. From the box they pulled out bottles of paint and various types of used makeup.

Joe scolded them all in a more sober manner, “Oh come on, you lot weren’t even watching!” “Yeah, yeah, it was probably a tie, anyways,” Rick chuckled, pulling out more items from the box. “This box is much more interesting, too," Phil protested, holding up a stick of lipstick as Sav held up two bottles of paint, "This is a box of makeup that I had for me and the lads in Girl! Just look at it all! Think we can have some fun with this?" "Oh, piss off," you threw the empty bottle onto the couch, "We need some music." Joe had slumped down onto a chair, and you stumbled your way over to the shelf with all the records on it, flipping through and eyeing them all as carefully as your body would let you. After only a few seconds of searching, your eyes lit up at a discovery. "Here's a good one!" you exclaimed as you pulled out a copy of Hi Infidelityby REO Speedwagon, "Let's give it a spin!" ***

Joe wandered back into the room and fell onto the empty couch with a grumble. “Sorry, Joe...” you muttered over to him, realizing that you pressured him into more consumption of the booze. “It was probably gonna happen anyway...” he admitted, wiping his hands over his face, “It’s was my stupid choice to go through with it.” “Woah,” Phil pointed out out of nowhere, looking at you with great surprise, “What’s that on your neck?” You felt your heart drop into your stomach. “What!?” you shot up from where you sat (bringing on more dizziness), and rushed over to a mirror. Once your dizziness subsided, and you could finally see your reflection, the pink shape of a hickey on the side of your neck was now clearly conspicuous. You wondered how you hadn't noticed it before. Joe exclaimed with a smug and proud grin, “Is that from Steve!?” You groaned angrily, feeling yourself become more and more defeated. “I can’t believe it,” you gasped, slapping a hand over the mark, “Something did happen between us-!” “Y/N,” Phil pointed out again, “There’s lipstick on your thigh...” Looking down at your legs, you saw that he was right. There was a single red symbol on your right thigh that marked a kiss from the night before. Upon seeing this, what you saw when you woke up popped into your head. “Looks like Steve went to town down there,” Sav smirked at you, only wanting to rub it in more. “Guys,” you softly noted, “That wasn’t Steve... he has lipstick marks all over his face from someone else...” The three men all exchanged confused looks with each other. There was a dead end to the story of the previous night. None of them knew how to solve the mystery of the lipstick. Not even Phil, who was as good as sober 12 hours ago, didn’t have any input. Sav suddenly blurted out, “Wait a minute, I know what happened- I think...” No one said anything, but eagerly leaned forward, ready to hear the tale the bassist had to tell. “You lot remember how we found that box of old makeup last night?” he began, “Well, I walked into the bathroom with you afterwards, Y/N...” *** Rick looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, carefully applying the makeup to his lips, and being extra careful to not get it on the blazer he was wearing. The drummer put on his best suit just to see how it would look with the makeup he was putting on. He thought he was doing a good job for the most part; he didn’t look half bad at all! It was far easier than he expected it to be, and wondered if he was good enough to help you with your makeup at times. Thinking of you seemed to have made you appear in the doorway next to him. Both of your hands were still covered in paint. “Sink,” was all you commanded of the drummer. He moved without a word and you began to wash your hands. At the same instant, Sav appeared nearby. He grabbed the doorframe and began to swing from it, leaving conspicuous handprints afterwards. “Aren’t you gonna wash up, too?” Rick crossed his arms to sass him. “Nah, I want the colors, they’re makin’ me feel- colorful...” Sav grinned, walking over to you at the sink, requesting, “C’mere.” You looked up, only to have your face taken in Sav’s paint-covered hands. He softly giggled as you squared your vision in on him with a sneer. “Rude,” you teased, then went back to washing your hands; paint now all over your face. “What’s really rude,” Rick pulled back the shower curtain and taking a step into the tub, “Is you two interrupting my makeup time! Good night!” He sat himself down in the tub and laid himself down as if he was going to sleep.

Before he had the chance to catch some shut-eye, you marched over to the tub and objected, “Rick, if you’re gonna sleep, I want a goodnight kiss first.” Without another word, Rick sat up and planted a kiss on your thigh (since it was closest to him). There was now a bright red imprint of his lips on your leg. “Thank you.” you smiled down at him, “Now goodnight.” “Don’t leave the water on, you hear?” Sav nagged him, pointing a colored finger, “You’ll drown." Rick chuckled with his eyes closed, “I’ll drink myself out. I'm in a drinkin mood, anyways." “Oh yeah? You haven’t got a straw or anything,” the intoxicated bassist continued to argue with him. “Then don’t let me drown! Get one!" “I’ll get you one later. I’ll just-“ Sav burped, and continued, “I’ll write a note or something.” “Sounds good, mate,” Rick slumped further into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, “Now you gonna stay here all night?” “Actually,” you noted out loud to yourself, different alcoholic emotions boiling up inside you, “I wanna go downstairs- I just need to see Steve- like right now...!" You turned on your heels, speeding past Sav and flying back down the stairs. *** “So that explains the paint on my face, and the paper in the hallway, and the lipstick, but what happened after that?” you asked Sav, as you were now slumped on top of Phil’s arm again. “Beats me,” Sav ran his still-painted hands through his hair, “That’s all I’ve got.” “But wait, if you said that Rick fell asleep in the bathtub...” Phil began his sentence, only for you and the other two men to exchange knowing looks with each other. All four of you immediately sprung up and rushed (as much as you could) up the stairs and into the bathroom. Upon getting there, Phil flung back the shower curtain to reveal a partially awake Rick, dressed in a suit, and still wearing the lipstick from the night before. “Mornin’,” he groaned as he stretched, then winced, “Ah, fuck- sleeping in here wasn’t the best idea for me neck.” Sav looked back at the paint on the doorframe and asked the drummer, “So then why did you sleep in here?” “Oh,” Rick looked around the tub, stating as-a-matter-of-factly, “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling. I guess drunk me was very careful last night.” “I’ll say,” Joe complemented, “The lipstick’s still holding up pretty well.” Phil halted the conversation, “Wait, so you were in here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, and let me tell you, for a smaller guy, you’ve got a big bladder.” “Wait,” you slowly turned and pointed at Joe, “I thought you said you slept in the bathtub-?” He gave you a cocky smirk in return, “I told you, ‘definitely not the bathtub’...” Rick sleepily laughed and pointed at you, “Ha- Y/N, you look like Joe!” “Why, just because of the shirt?” you inquired, pointing at Joe’s tank top on you. “And the paint!” Rick corrected you, “I can’t believe you guys didn’t wash it off yet!” In a second, you felt a rush of worry upon realizing that Rick hadn’t said anything about you and Steve yet. It made you suddenly come to the possible conclusion that he may not know about it all. “Wait,” Phil snapped his fingers, “So you do remember some stuff from last night?” “Yeah, a bit, I think. Why?” “Philip Kenneth Collen, don’t you fucking dare....” you growled at him in an almost pleading manner, rubbing your temples and grinding your teeth. “What do you remember?” Phil asked him, not giving any sort of reaction to your begging. Rick thought for a few seconds, clearly as hungover as the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to list off some brief happenings he recalled. “Well, I remember us singing Sweet, there was a lap dance, I remember- uh, being denied a bottle of scotch, there was, uh... there was lipstick... and did I try to ice-skate on pieces of cardboard down the hall...?” “Is that why there’s cardboard all down the hallway?” you motioned towards the door. Rick gave you a big proud smile and a nod in response. “So...” Joe looked around, definitely looking eager, “What’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep?” Rick rested his head back on the tub again, thinking as hard as his hungover mind would let him. You hoped to every god there was that he didn’t say anything about Steve. “Just Phil comin’ in here and having a long piss, that’s all.” came the verdict. “You sure you didn’t hear-“ Phil anxiously began to ask him, but got a hand slapped over his mouth by you. “No!” you yelled on impulse, sending more daggers through your burned-out head. All eyes were now on you, and silence fell. For a few tense seconds, you stared into Phil’s eyes, sending him visual messages of both threats and desperate requests. “...what the hell happened last night?” Rick broke the silence in a tone of utter confusion, knowing that something more serious than what he remembered had taken place. You pulled your hand back from Phil’s face, “Yuck, Phil, come on!” “You licked her hand, didn’t you?” asked Sav. “Yes,” Phil confirmed, and continued without missing a beat, “And I’m glad you asked that, Rick, cos' I know what happened after Y/N and Sav paid you a visit last night.” “Phil, if you love me in any way, shape, or form, you will not tell Rick what happened,” you begged to him as you began to walk out the bathroom door, heading back downstairs to wallow in more of your shameful hangover, “I refuse to believe it happened until there’s hard proof.” “Well what more proof do you want? A positive pregnancy test?” Phil shrugged, but suddenly slapped his own hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. You shot him an angry look. You were too tired to have it out with him, so you stumbled away. Right about now, you were ready to give up and accept the fact that you probably did shag Steve. Phil turned to Rick, gaping, and slowly began to speak again, "Right... so last night, after those two were in here, I think that’s when they came back downstairs..." *** "So why are you tying up my hair again?" a drunk Steve asked Phil, who was happily putting his hair into pigtails. "Because I knew you’d look pretty, and I knew you wouldn't object, either," the other guitarist laughed evilly as he finished tying the second bundle of golden locks together, "There, you're all done now." "Cool... I think," Steve tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror on the wall as footsteps began pounding their way down the stairs. "I think you look pretty, Steve. Pretty, pretty, pretty," Joe giggled as he was flipped off by the pig-tailed guitarist. As this happened, you trampled the stairs in your descent, calling out, “Steve- Steve! Come here!” More than happy to be ripped away from Phil’s pigtailed plans, he let you run up to him as you belted out, “I’ve got an idea...!” He didn’t say anything, but he did let you whisper something in his ear. The second he heard your idea, his eyes lit up and an evil smirk crossed his face. Steve was always in the mood for causing terror. You pulled back and exchanged the same look of understanding with the guitarist. He stared at you with a sort of appreciation, and without another word, swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style now. With a quick smooch to your lips, he began carrying you up the stairs as you giggled with some sort of glee. Phil’s jaw dropped, looking at Joe with astonishment in the process. The singer’s face mirrored the exact same expression. “I should’ve bloody known...” Phil gasped in astonishment, “She’s been eyeing him up real funny all night... I can’t fucking believe it!” Sav came down the stairs slowly, his life depending on the railing as he dragged his hand on it. He left a long streak of blue paint as he did so. “What’s gotten into their pants?” “Each other, apparently,” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of a beer he found, “Lord knows how the hell that happened.” *** You were all sitting back on the couches in the living room, all seemingly regretting the night before (you knew you most certainly were). Everyone knew that the end of Phil’s story was the true ending of the night. Now there was really a dead end to the whole tale. “I can’t believe it,” you whispered with sorrowful acceptance, “Me and Steve...? What happened next?” Joe scoffed, “Well that’s kind of a stupid question.” “That’s where it ends, Y/N. I went up to bed afterwards, only to hear-“ Phil cleared his throat to impersonate you and Steve, “‘Oh, Steve! Yes!’ coming from my room! So after an immense helping of disapproval, I slept in Rick’s room.” “No, no, that can’t be it!” you insisted, “Guys, what really happened next?” “Can’t say,” Joe mumbled, holding his head. “Sorry, mate,” Rick apologized. Sav remained silent, but looked apologetic. “That can’t be where it ends...!” you persisted, “Sav? Tell me I’m right!” Sav rolled in his lips, and darted his eyes away from you. You continued to stare at him suspiciously, but no one else thought anything of it. Phil tried to finalize your fate sympathetically, “Give it up, Y/N, at least it’s all over now.” “But it still happened! What am I gonna say to Steve when he wakes up? You know what- no. It didn’t happen, I refuse to believe that it did.” “How much more proof do you want?” Rick shrugged, pointing at Phil and Sav, trying to make you face the terrible truth, “They both heard ya, and Steve even gave you a hickey.” You hung your head, thinking you might just decide to cry out of shame. Yes, you loved Steve, just as you loved anyone else in the band, but you never had (or planned to have) any sort of sexual relationship with them. Even if you ever did, you were afraid it would ruin everything your friendship had stood for. “Sav, what’s wrong, mate?” Joe asked out of the blue. The bassist in question was still avoiding the conversation, staying eerily silent and weaving his hands together. At this point, you noticed that he was also blushing. “That wasn’t Steve.” he stated bluntly, still not looking at you. “What wasn’t Steve?” you asked as you stared at him dead on, your heart now pounding. “That hickey... that wasn’t Steve,” he paused, “That was me.” Immediately you gasped and slapped a hand over the mark on your neck. “What?!” the other three exclaimed. Joe and Rick immediately hissed at the searing pain their outbursts caused. “Sav, what the hell?!” you scolded him, finally happy that you weren’t the only one being called out for their mistakes. “Now before you say anything else,” he finally looked at you and held up a hand, “It was your idea.” Your face fell, softly asking him, “What do you mean?” “Well, after you and Steve-you know- and only Joe and I were downstairs, you actually came back down, too- wipe that smug look off your face, Joe. You’re not entirely innocent here, either.” *** You stumbled down the stairs, giggling to yourself. Your mission was now accomplished, and Steve was asleep upstairs. In a word, you were pleased. In two words, you were still drunk. Records were still being played when you returned to the living room, and Joe currently had his copy of Sheer Heart Attack on the turntable. “She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)”flowed softly from its speakers. “There’s our killer queen!” Joe cooed to you happily. He was now sprawled out on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the floor beside him. Sav wasn’t too far off. The paints on his hands were now dry, and he was reclined in a chair across the room, twiddling a bottle in his hand. They both looked ready for bed, and it made you wonder how they held out for this long. The singer slurred on with an interested smirk, “You two have fun?" Sav spoke up with a scoff-like laugh, “Sure sounded like it!" “Oh, you know it,” you gave them a wink, setting yourself down on the couch next to Joe, “Guess Phil finally ditched, huh?” “Yeah, the wanker went to bed- but you’ve lost your pants!” he gestured to your black underwear, made room for you to lay down with him, and took you in his arms like a teddy bear with a sigh of appeasement. You reached back and playfully poked at Joe’s dimple, “Steve's fault." “Well, that’s no good,” Sav objected, pushing the footrest of the chair in and returning to a sitting position. “What isn’t?” Joe asked him, "Steve gettin' into it with her?" “No, that cuddlin' you're doing- it’s boring. You stay like that, you’ll fall asleep on me!” He was certainly right about this. With you in Joe’s arms and his face nuzzling into your hair like some sort of animal, he was already falling asleep. “What do you want us to do?” you chuckled, thinking that Sav was only jealous of his friend. Joe mumbled happily into your hair, “How 'bout you just do me like Steve, and we’ll be good.” At this point, you noticed the feeling of something pressing lightly against the bottom of your back; a certain weight where Joe’s hips were, and a weight that wasn’t there at first. “Joe,” you whined at him, “You’re fucking gross.” He chuckled, then slowly moved his hips to lightly rub himself against you, a low quiet moan rising in his throat from the temporary pleasure it provided. “Ah- Joe!” you protested again, reaching back and hitting him as best as you could. You wiggled out of his embrace as he burst into giggles like he had just accomplished something. Sav, on the other hand, cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re even hornier than when you’re sober!” you grabbed a pillow and whacked Joe with it. “You’re one to talk! You just shagged Steve!” he smirked evilly, "Why not me?" “Ha! The only way I’ll do you is by some miracle, or at least a dare,” you threw yourself onto the other couch, picking up a nearly empty beer bottle and pouring whatever was left into your mouth. Sav’s eyes finally lit up, “That’s what we oughta do- truth or dare!” “Ooh, sounds like terrible fun,” you turned yourself so you were sitting upside-down on the couch, “Sav, truth or dare?” “How come he gets to go first?” asked Joe, “I wanna get down to business!” “Dare,” Sav declared, ignoring the singer’s objections. Immediately, your intoxicated mind thought of a scheme. Despite the plan you and Steve had executed ever so perfectly, you were still a child seeking more terror. You knew Joe wanted you, and it was no secret either, so how exactly would you use Sav to reign terror over him? You wanted something to rub in Joe’s face- something that would leave a mark on him. “I dare you to-" you clumsily pointed to your neck, "Gimme a hickey.” Joe's jaw dropped with offense and jealousy; exactly as you had expected. Sav began to laugh rather loudly at the request, and stood up, now understanding your true intention of making Joe jealous. “C’mere,” he motioned with his hand. More than happy to obey the command, you strutted over to him and paused, waiting for him to make the first move. He took a step so your bodies were practically pressing together, moved your hair out of the way on your neck, and dove right in. You smiled with glee, taking in the feeling of Sav’s mouth and tongue moving over your skin (as well as Joe’s groans of protest coming from a few feet away). As the bassist sucked on your neck without hesitation, it only made you think of one thing: “Wow, there’s definitely gonna be a mark after this.” *** Rick and Phil were staring at Sav with their mouths open in shock. You kept a hand over the mark he left on your neck to prevent everyone from looking any more than they already had. “So, wait, if it was you who gave me this, why didn’t you say anything before when we said it was Steve?” you asked Sav, more suspicious than outraged now. “I- ah, didn’t... wanna say anything...” he looked away, beginning to blush again, “I guess I was too embarrassed." “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is you, Joe,” Rick turned his attention back to the singer, “You fuckin dry humped her!” Joe exclaimed in his own defense, “Yeah, and I don’t even remember it! It’s not my fault- I was drunk and horny!” “See! Just like me and Steve! I don’t remember shagging him, either! So I guess we’re even.” “Even Stephen,” Phil scoffed. You slumped into the couch more, staring blankly ahead and realizing, “So I pretty much got to second base with all of you last night...?” “I think you made it all the way home with Steve,” Rick pointed out. “Thanks, Rick,” you kept your head hung, “I feel like a slut.” “You mean you’re not?” Phil joked, only to be hit in the arm by Sav.

Just then, you all heard the sound of movement upstairs. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold; Steve was awake now. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, and for a second, you thought they were all afraid of what you were fearing. "He's awake..." Rick announced in a sing-song voice, teasing you. “Oh no...” you gasped quietly, “Oh no, oh no! Oh god, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to him?!” “Hate to break it to ya, but this isn’t necessarily our problem!” Joe shrugged in a panic, hearing Steve’s footsteps get closer. “But guys! You’ve gotta help me! You’re his best friends! What should I say to him?!” “Just act like it didn’t happen! Maybe he doesn’t remember-?” Sav proposed. Rick suggested, “Just straight up ask him if he remembers anything!” “Just get out of here!” Phil made a swatting motion towards the other room. “None of those are gonna do me any good! It still happened!” you yelled at them in a whisper, “I have to live that with that fact, even if neither of us have any memory of it to live with!” It was too late for any salvation; Steve was already at the top of the stairs. The band members held their breath, and- without words or warning- all scrambled out of the living room. “No!” you whispered, “Guys- wait!” You caught Rick by the wrist when he stood up. “Rick, c’mon, please don’t leave me here!” you begged. He yanked out of your grip and apologetically condemned you, “Sorry, Y/N, but this is your business.” As the four of them retreated, you tried to bolt after them. As soon as you hit the doorway, however, Phil turned around and pushed you back on the couch nearby as slowly as he could. It was so sudden that you were on your back before you knew it, and they were all gone. “Hey!” you called out after them, “Assholes!” Steve’s voice suddenly came to your ears (rather closely, too), “What’s their problem?” You jumped, “Ah- Steve!” He had a silent step, and made it down the stairs and across the room without making a sound. He also looked just as he did a little while ago when you first woke up; scraggly hair, lipstick stains all over his face, but no visible evidence of a hangover. “Hey, wow,” you forced an awkward chuckle at him, “Nice- uh, nice- lipstick...” Steve slumped down onto a chair and grumbled, “Thanks. Who even did this to me? Doesn’t look like it was you.” “That was, that was Rick- I’m assuming... I don’t remember that happening and I don’t think he does, either. He’s still got the lipstick on, too.” He played off the remark with a tired smile, “Oh, nice... last night really was something, wasn’t it?” Heat rushed to your face, and you tried to look away without being conspicuous. “Ha ha... yeah... really something!” you faked your amusement for him, now wondering if he was implying anything about the previous night. Steve leaned forward and asked, “Do you remember Sav and the paint? That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Still blushing, you darted your eyes around the room and nodded in agreement, “Mm hmm, yeah... he was like a toddler or something.” He sunk back into the chair again and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the events of the previous night. For a second you thought you were in the clear, and that maybe he didn’t remember the specific event that Phil and Sav did.

That illusion was shattered when his eyes snapped open, whispering “Wait a minute”, and sitting back up. Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“How did our plan go?” he questioned quietly, figuring that the others were still somewhere nearby and listening. “P-plan?” you stuttered, partially afraid of what he meant, but partially caught off guard, “What plan?” “You know-” he whispered again, thinking you remembered, “It was your idea. Did they believe it? We were convincing enough?" You darted your eyes down to the floor, confused, but also embarrassed. 'Convincing'? What did that mean? "Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” he smiled playfully. As you stared at him with fearful confusion in your eyes and redness on your cheeks, his smile was suddenly wiped away. He muttered under his breath as his face fell, "Oh... you don't remember... bloody hell, okay, this is gonna be hard to explain..." "Then explain it, because I'm really fucking confused..." your voice wavered with a sarcastic chuckle. Steve sighed and leaned forward, slowly weaving his hands together. He didn't know where to begin. "This is one of the few things I remember from last night..." he started off, "And there's no way to make this sound... good... in any way, but you came up with the idea of us pretending to shag- like making noises and shit like that- to trick the others into thinking we really did. For some reason I thought it was a great idea, and I'm pretty sure I carried you upstairs, too.” Instantly, a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It wasn't real; you didn't shag Steve, and he could even tell the guys himself! You blew out a big sigh of relief, and slumped back into the couch, closing your eyes. "Oh, god," you slowly panted, "What a huge relief- I suppose we were really convincing, then." "Why d'you say that?" You laughed tiredly, now feeling rather thankful for your raging hangover, "The guys are all convinced that we fucked last night. Only Phil and Sav seem to remember it, though. They've been hounding me about it all morning. I kept telling them it couldn't be true- and I was right!" "What, would it be so bad if we actually did?" he teased you in a hushed voice. "Well, I've had to live my day so far under the impression it did happen. I was teased, ridiculed, embarrassed, and felt guilty about it. I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship if it was true... I was kinda hoping you didn't remember so we could just forget..." The red in your face returned all over again. Steve, however, didn't seem bothered. "If you really want to, we can keep pretending it happened and steer into the act; give em' what they want." "What? No!" you laughed out loud, standing up, "You're crazy, Clark! I think I better go tell the others the bad news. They'll be disappointed-ha!" You walked across the room to go find the others and disclose unto them the "bad news", giving Steve a pat on the shoulder when you passed him. Once you were gone and out of sight, Steve also blew out a big sigh of relief. "She didn't remember anything," he thought to himself, "That was a close one." While he knew you two didn't go all the way the previous night, he figured if you didn't remember it, then it was for the best you didn't find out. It was nothing serious; just a bit of fooling around, really. Just a bit of drunked-up teasing, and nothing more. The guys had no proof that anything actually happened between you two, and you were about to tell them the partial truth anyway, so why say something to reignite the suspicion? After all, they were all hungover to begin with, so there wasn't much memory of the whole affair, either. "Thank god for these hangovers,"Steve thought, "Thank god. I couldnt've asked for anything more." ~Epilogue~ When you got to the top of the stairs, Steve put you on your feet and spun you around. "You ready?" he whispered, childish excitement in his voice. You nodded with equal excitement, "Take me away, Clark." The two of you began eagerly walking hand-in-hand to whatever room you pleased, but before either of you had the chance to pick one, the bathroom door opened, Rick popped his head out and commanded, "Stop right there!" Both you and Steve froze and looked at him. He still had his lipstick and his suit on, and a kind of serious look overtaking his face. A finger was kept in a pointing position at you, a few large pieces of cardboard were underneath his other arm, and he slowly took steps down the hall to meet you. Neither of you moved, but both of you waited. When Rick got to you, he didn't say a word, but did take Steve's face in his hands (dropping the cardboard in the process), and proceeded to the kiss the man all over his face.

Steve remained silent, and let Rick have his way until he decided to stop. When he did, there were several lipstick stains on various parts of the blonde's face.

"Thanks, mate," Steve muttered sarcastically as Rick kicked some of the cardboard pieces in different directions. He then stepped on two of them, trying to slide down the hall on them as if they were ice skates. When he got back to the bathroom, he went back inside and shut the door again.

Without another word, you turned Steve's face toward you, gave him a peck on the cheek as Rick had done, and kicked open the door behind you (which just so happened to be Phil's bedroom). You both fell back into the room, giggling with makeshift lust in your eyes.

After all, you had to make this authentic, right?

[hookingminor]

three lessons - mat barzal

a/n: new series idea I just had, spoiler there is filth and the next parts will be as well also im not the best at writing smut so you’ll have to bear with me here. anyway! let me know what you think! comments/thoughts are always appreciated! also, I know it briefly mentions being the younger sister of a teammate, but I know nothing about the isles so its literally just for plot purposes don’t expect much from that and this isn’t proofread sorry

word count: 4.2k

summary: you’re tired of being a virgin, so you hit up Mat to help you with your problem and strike a deal

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

PART TWO

-

This was by far the worst idea you’ve ever had.

In your twenty-one years of life, you’ve never had a worse idea. Your initial plan was crazy in and of itself, but adding Mat to the mix? It’s like you were asking to get your ass kicked.

The original thought came to you a year ago when you were sitting on the couch of your friend’s apartment, four glasses of wine into the night. She was complaining about her latest hookup, raging over the fact that he didn’t know where the clit was.

This is how it usually went between you two.

She was the one who got all the guys, the one who could pick up anyone from the bar and spend the night in a stranger’s bed without a second thought. You, however, were the wingwoman, the person who was left behind when your friend eventually decided to leave with a man.

It didn’t bother you that much. It’s not like you felt like you needed a boyfriend, you were secure in almost all aspects of your life, but the nagging thought in the back of your mind kept saying that you needed to get fucked. And soon.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream or the fact that you hadn’t masturbated in nearly two weeks, but you rolled your eyes at your friend before you finally snapped.

“At least you’ve had someone to fuck the past few months! Be grateful you’re not me and still a virgin at twenty!” You shouted, fed up with hearing stories about how your friend’s sex life was so terrible. At least she had a sex life to begin with.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you apologized quickly, bringing your hand to cover your mouth in shock, “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s hard listening to you talk about this when I can’t contribute to the conversation.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry for always talking about it,” your friend said, eyes softening when she heard how regretful you sounded, “How about we change the subject?”

She didn’t wait for your response before launching into a monologue about how classes were going and her upcoming finals. You tried listening to her, but your mind was still stuck on the previous topic. Of course it was unfortunate that you happened to be twenty and with no sexual experience, but it didn’t bother you before like it was bothering you right now.

Ideas began racing through your head of how you could rectify this, and that’s when the seed was planted.

Now, almost a year later, your carefully thought out plan was almost complete; though, ‘carefully’ could be more loosely translated to ‘reckless.’

You paced outside of Mat’s door, walking back and forth as you fiddled with your hands, working up the courage to knock. This was such a bad idea. You brought your hand up to the door, pausing before your fist made contact before bringing it back down and resuming your pacing.

After another five minutes of deep contemplation, you made your decision. You knocked on the door before you could second guess yourself, now bringing your hands to tug at the strands of your hair.

The few seconds it took for Mat to answer the door felt like a lifetime, and when he opened the door, you were met with a confused look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, peeking his head out of the door to glance down the hallway.

“Hi, I know you weren’t expecting me and you have to leave for practice soon, but I needed to talk to you about something,” you explained quickly.

Mat’s brows stayed furrowed in confusion, but he opened the door further to let you inside.

“Firstly, I just wanted to say that Anders doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d really appreciate it if you never mentioned it to him,” you said as he closed the door behind you.

Mat ushered you into his living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch as he crossed his arms and waited for you to continue.

“This is going to sound absolutely crazy and you’re probably going to reject me but just hear me out,” you said, taking a deep sigh. He was totally going to shut you down, but there was no turning back now.

“I wanted to ask you if you’d have sex with me. You’d be doing me a favor as my friend. I’m kind of… a virgin… and I really don’t want to be anymore,” you took a breath to watch his reaction which was unreadable, “You’re probably thinking it’s a terrible idea, being that I’m Anders’s sister and everything, but I promise I won’t say anything to him. I just want to get a little experience under my belt… it’s kind of embarrassing. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you’d give me a few lessons or something.”

You raised your eyes to meet Mat’s as you finished your rant, worrying about what he was going to say. A long silence fell between you two as he processed what you said.

“Uh… I don’t really know what to say,” he started awkwardly, bringing his hand to rub at the back of his neck, “I’m honored, I guess? That you asked me to help, but I’m just a little confused since we don’t really know each other.”

Okay, you could give him that. It was true that you weren’t the closest of friends, but you’d met on a handful occasions. It’s not like you were complete strangers, but other than knowing what you were studying in school and that you were Anders’s much younger sister, he didn’t know much about you.

“That’s fair,” you said, “I asked you because, well, you’re obviously hot which I’m sure you know. Also, not knowing each other is what makes this perfect. I’m not attached to you in any way and vice versa. Honestly? You’re one of the few guys in town that I feel comfortable around, so it was either ask you or find a random Tinder hookup and have to do this speech all over again but ten times as awkward.”

Mat didn’t like the last part of that explanation: the whole ‘random Tinder hookup to take your virginity’ part. He may not have known you that well, but he knew you were a nice girl and deserved to be more than just a notch on the bedpost of someone who didn’t care about you.

“I know you’re probably thinking I’m insane, and I get it. I felt a little insane when I thought about this too. But I really feel like you’re the best option. I understand if you think it’s too weird, though,” you said when he hadn’t replied. Your eyes watched him as he sat still as a rock across from you.

“I… I have to leave for practice soon,” was the only thing he responded with.

You felt your heart drop at his statement. Of course he was going to say no, you were an idiot for even trying.

“Yeah, totally, I’ll get going,” you said quickly, gathering your stuff and making your way to the entrance.

When you reached the door, you turned back one last time to see him still in the same position.

“Can you not tell Anders, please? I know this was a crazy, stupid idea but… just don’t tell him, okay? He doesn’t need to know about my sex… well, lack of sex life,” you added before shutting the door behind you.

-

Mat had lost his mind.

Truly and honestly, he had lost his mind if he was even considering your proposition. Which he was. He was really considering your proposition, and he wanted to punch himself for it.

He couldn’t possibly agree to this, could he? You were the captain’s younger sister. Sure, you two weren’t the closest of siblings, but the code still applied. And the code clearly said he was not allowed to fraternize with relatives of his teammates in any way. He hadn’t broken this rule yet, and he couldn’t believe he was even thinking about breaking it now.

Inside his head, he weighed the pros and the cons of sleeping with you. Well, teaching you would be a better phrase. If Mat was being honest, he had blacked out after the terms ‘virgin’ and ‘have sex with me’ fell from your lips. He watched you from his spot on the couch, his eyes following your mouth but not processing the words you were saying. Truthfully, he ran over the conversation a million times in his head and he wasn’t sure he was actually processing them now.

You wanted him to take your virginity. You wanted him to give you experience. You called them lessons.

You were, quite literally, asking him to be your sex tutor.

When you left the apartment, he did what he did best. He compartmentalized. Instead of thinking about the awkward conversation he just had with you, he pushed all thoughts of you from his mind and went to practice. For a whole three hours he focused on hockey. He even had the courage to look at his captain despite the weird interaction he’d just had with his sister.

But then practice was over, and Mat was left with nothing to do but think about what you said. Thinking turned into contemplating, and contemplating eventually turned into pulling up your Instagram page.

Mat typed and retyped the message a million times, deleting it before he could accidentally pressed send. He went back and forth between wanting to say yes and throwing his phone as far away from him so he wouldn’t be tempted.

What could be the worst thing that happened? He thought.

A million bad things could happen. He knew this deep in his heart that it was, for all intents and purposes, the worst idea ever to teach his captain’s sister how to have sex, but his head and desire to get laid had other plans.

So, he picked up his phone one last time and composed the same message he’d written a hundred times.

to @yourusername: does your offer still stand? text me 212-203-3849

-

For the second time in a week, you were pacing outside of Mat’s apartment. You’d received his message almost six days ago, and now here you were.

Your chest nearly collapsed with relief when you’d seen he wanted to take you up on your offer. And then your stomach filled with butterflies, nerves wracking your body as you now had an official plan to lose your virginity.

You eagerly liked the message, dialing his number in your phone so you could hash out the details over text. He promised you two would go over some ground rules in person, saying it felt too weird to have a written contract or something over text. You agreed to his plans and set a date to go over to his apartment that following weekend.

Feeling more courageous than you did a week ago, you knocked on the door with confidence this time. If you were going to lose your virginity tonight, you weren’t going to look like a frightened kitten when you did.

Mat greeted you with a warm smile this time, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. Same as last time, he ushered you into his apartment and directed you towards his couch.

“Do you want anything to drink? I was about to open a bottle of wine,” Mat asked, already moving to the kitchen.

“Yeah, wine would be great. Thanks,” you replied, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

Mat tinkered around in the kitchen for a couple minutes before he joined you, handing you a glass of red. You took a long sip as he settled down, hoping the wine would work fast to calm your nerves.

“So, what did you want to discuss first?” He asked after a moment.

“Well, we should probably have some ground rules. I was thinking that since you’re the expert and all, you should decide how these lessons go. Oh, and I think that we should keep this to a three-time thing. Anything more than that will probably get more complicated,” you answered with ease. Not to say you had spent the past week thinking about what you were going to say, but you definitely did.

Mat nodded in agreement at your suggestions before adding his own.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Also, we can’t tell anyone about this because, you know, your brother and the team and all,” he said. You hummed in response, that much was a given. No one could know about this.

“So, where do we start? Should I take off my clothes or?” You asked.

“No,” he said with a chuckle, “We’re going to watch a movie.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. For now at least.”

You hadn’t known what you were expecting, but it was not a cuddle session on his couch. You imagined that maybe he would’ve just ripped your clothes off the minute you walked in to get down to business, but he was being way more casual than you were feeling. Which was probably a good thing because your heart was beating a thousand beats a minute, so at least one of you had this situation under control.

Mat had told you to dress comfortably as he didn’t plan on leaving the apartment, and he was dressed in a similar fashion as you: gray sweatpants with a dark blue t-shirt. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and a shirt from your college before leaving, making sure to wear at least a nice bralette and pair of panties underneath.

He drank down the rest of his wine before adjusting himself on the couch, moving into a position where he was laying down. Grabbing the blanket folded on the back cushion, he spread it out over his body before patting the spot in front of him. Normally, you would’ve been intimidated by a bold move like this, but the wide smile on his face indicated that he was perfectly comfortable right now, and his ease surrounded you in waves.

Slamming back the rest of your wine, you lay down in front of him, tucking your body against his while his arms pulled your chest closer.

“Anything specific you want to watch?” He asked, using his free hand to grab the remote. You muttered a quiet ‘no,’ allowing him to go ahead and choose. Mat scrolled through the Netflix options before settling on a new action movie.

“So, how much experience do you have exactly?” Mat asked once the introduction credits had finished. It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at you because your face heated up in embarrassment.

“I’ve only ever got as far as making out,” you muttered.

“No one’s ever touched you then?” He prodded.

“No,” you replied, your cheeks on fire. You couldn’t see him, but Mat nodded in response against the back of your head, letting out a quiet ‘okay.’

It wasn’t the first time Mat had been with a virgin, but that hadn’t been since high school and when he also wasn’t that experienced himself. Mat decided to let the movie play for a little bit longer before making his first move.

That time came when there was a particularly slow scene on. Slowly, he lifted up the hem of your t-shirt and slid his hand underneath, tracing small circles on the skin of your stomach. You clenched your thighs together as a warm feeling started to spread throughout your body.

It was happening.

Mat kept his hands there for a few minutes, inching up so slowly you almost couldn’t tell he’d moved at all. When the initial shock of his touch settled, you tried to refocus your attention to the movie.

Another ten minutes passed before Mat made his next move. Almost imperceptibly, he used his elbow to push his torso up before he brushed the hair covering your neck to the side. You felt his fingertips brush your ear, a shiver running up your spine. He brought his lips to your neck a split second later, placing a soft kiss against it.

Your eyes briefly shut for a second, reveling in the fact that Mat’s lips were on your neck. He kissed around your jaw a couple times before the hand on his stomach was shifting you to rest on your back. Your body followed his lead and your eyes met his hazel ones before he was leaning in to kiss your lips.

A heat unfurled in your body the second your lips connected and you eagerly moved yours against his. One of Mat’s hands had moved to the back of your neck to tilt your head at a better angle, the other hand moving further up under your shirt to rest just below your bra clasp. Your body involuntarily arched up into his hands as his tongue slipped out to part your lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue entered immediately, tangling with yours. You and Mat lay on the couch for a good while, making out heavily before you eventually had to break it for air.

“At least you don’t have to worry about kissing. You’re a natural,” Mat commended with an airy chuckle, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his compliment.

Mat’s smile brightened at your laugh before he leaned back in, the heat building in your body at double speed. You knew you were attracted to him, but you didn’t think he would be able to wind you up this fast. Or maybe it was just because you’ve never had a man touch you like this before.

Breaking the kiss, Mat began to trail more kisses down your body, pausing near your collarbone when he heard a particular breathy gasp leave your mouth. Mat continued his path over your shirt until he reached your belly button.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, looking up at you.

“You can take mine off if you take yours off,” you replied with a seductive smirk. Mat pulled back from your body, matching your smirk with one of his own as he tore off his shirt. Less than a second later, he was tugging at the hem of yours, urging you to sit up so he could take it off.

Mat’s hands were back on your body right after he tossed your shirt on the floor. This time, he retraced his path down your torso with his mouth and tongue, leaving no patch of skin untouched. His fingers danced around the edge of your leggings, teasing you until you were lifting up your hips into his face.

“Please take them off, Mat,” you said through gasps, wanting nothing more than to be rid of your clothing. He chuckled lightly against your waistband, his nose tickling your abdomen before he began shimmying off your leggings.

Tilting your hips up, you helped him slide the pants down your legs along with your underwear. Though your cheeks flamed up at the thought of being exposed before Mat, you felt oddly calm (well, as calm as you can be given the circumstances) with him.

“Holy shit, baby. You’re soaked,” Mat noted with a deep groan. He shuffled his body further down the couch into a comfortable position, lifting one leg to hook over his shoulder.

You breathed in shaky breaths as Mat placed gentle kisses on your thighs, working upwards slowly until he reached your core. And when he used his tongue to lick a strip across your pussy, your back arched into the air as you let out a loud moan.

“You gotta stay still, Y/N,” Mat chuckled darkly, wrapping one hand to steady your middle.

“Sorry, never done this before,” you replied in gasps.

Now immobilized, Mat resumed his place between your legs, repeating the same series of licks before he closed his lips around your clit. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive area. God, you would have done this a long time ago if you knew it would feel this good. You weren’t sure if it was too early to feel the heat inside you build up this quickly or if Mat was just too good at this. You hoped it was the latter.

His tongue lapped at your folds, and your hands flew down to grasp his hair in need. You didn’t think you could moan any louder, but then he brought his thumb to your clit to rub in tight circles as his tongue teased your entrance.

“Holy fuck,” you whined out, canting your hips up as much as you could. You could feel his smirk against your pussy at your exclamation, bringing his hand down to slowly enter a finger into you.

You let out a surprised gasp as you felt the first finger penetrate you. Mat kept his attention on your clit, lips sucking harshly at it. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, focusing on how good he was making you feel.

After a few thrusts of one finger, giving you plenty of time to adjust, he added a second, feeling your walls tighten around them. He moved both fingers in and out of you, alternating the pressure between your entrance and clit. Just when he hit the right spot inside you, your hand tugged on his hair tightly, and he took the hint to curl his fingers against that spot.

“I’m so close, Mat,” you moaned, tossing your head back into the pillow.

“What do you need, baby?” He asked, pulling back for a quick breath. You glanced down to meet his gaze, taking in the way his chin glistened from your pussy. The view made you moan lowly, and his eyes darkened at the sound.

“Your tongue, please,” you begged quietly.

Mat heard the words leave your mouth and nestled his face back between your legs, tongue sliding up your slit in response. In rhythm with stroking your g-spot, he sucked at your clit, and it was mere seconds before your body coiled tightly inside. He kept the same pace and before long, you felt yourself crest the peak and then fall.

Mat removed his fingers slowly from your entrance, his tongue licking softly at your folds until he felt your breathing return to normal. It took you a few seconds to regain your sense of self, stars still whirling in the corners of your vision. When you finally felt yourself grounded on Earth again, you opened your eyes to see a self-satisfied smirk on Mat’s face.

“You’re so hot when you come,” he said when you met his gaze, and had you not been riding high on cloud nine when he said this, you might have blushed in embarrassment. But you weren’t embarrassed right now. The only thing you felt was giddy. Giddy because you were one step closer to your end goal.

And while you were blissed out, you dropped your gaze to notice the extremely visible bulge tenting in his sweatpants. Focused on a new task, you sat up quickly before leaning over Mat’s body so you could return the favor. Your lips crashed against his in a frenzy, your hands clumsily reaching down to grasp his length. However, you only got to feel it for a second before Mat’s hand was tugging it away.

“Not tonight, babe. Tonight was about you,” Mat said with a strained voice, breaking the kiss to look at you.

“What do you mean? We’re not having sex tonight?” You asked in confusion, your head still a little hazy from the orgasm.

“No, we’re not,” he laughed, noticing the wantonness in your voice, “You said I’m in charge, right? This was already a lot for one night, so we’ll put off the sex until next time.”

You nodded your head, though you weren’t really understanding. It made sense. Tonight was a very big step for you, and he didn’t want to give you too much at once. But despite that, your pussy was begging for a repeat performance and you were so far gone you were willing to do just about anything Mat would say.

“What about you, though?” You asked, glancing down to the noticeable tent.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. We still have two more lessons. There’s plenty of time for that later,” he replied, though the bulge between you seemed to say otherwise.

“Promise you’re okay?” You insisted.

“I swear, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle.

A comfortable silence fell between you after that, and you couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face. Your eyes sparkled with renewed purpose, and you felt satisfied for the first time in a long time. A smile of Mat’s own slowly appeared on his face as he watched you light up before him. Before you could stop yourself, you threw yourself into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank you, Mat. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You said happily, punctuating each ‘thank you’ with a loud smacking kiss on his cheek.

When you pulled back to give him that award-winning smile again, Mat had one thought.

He was totally fucked.

[dianapana]

SH Day 12- ANBU Black Ops

@sasuhinamonth

たえる Part 2 (taeru=to endure)

Part 1

Rated M, Ninja Universe that underwent some changes (you’ll see that I use major events in the canon world but there is a lot of history that’s altered), OOC (major OOC for Hinata especially)

Warning: self-harm, mental health, sexual harassment, trauma

Hello, dears, I play quite a bit with chronology in this chapter, I hope it's all easy to understand. I made moth things be during summer so around the time of the girl SH month which is why in all the cases you'll see Sasuke is 1year older than Hina, since his bday is in July and hers in December. I hope you enjoy, ~Love Dia

Sasuke, age 23

I think it’s fair for me to say that I’ve been through a lot, not many things shake me anymore and all the things that have made me worried in the past years have had something in common, they were all somehow related to Hinata. I remember when I woke up after the war, I was chained to a hospital bed, placed under a jutsu that blocked my chakra, I was missing a limb and I was on the verge of insanity once more. The only thing that calmed me down was her image. Even without my chakra I searched for hers. She too was in the hospital; I found her signature light purple chakra but it was so faint and small I almost missed it. Seeing her like that made me crazy with worry, once everyone left my room, I broke all the chains and dragged myself to her room despite the pain. I hadn’t thought of her as fragile since our reunion when she was 15. I could barely stand to see her that way, and even if I wanted to stay and watch over her for longer, I could feel Naruto’s chakra getting closer, which meant I had to leave. For the following weeks I could only go and see her late at night, for there was always someone in her room, Naruto, her father, her sister, some sort of nurse or medic. I recovered under a month, yet I stayed until she woke up.

I was the only one in the room when her eyes opened, she looked confused and for a moment I was sure she had amnesia and would not remember me, us. But for the briefest moment her eyes rested upon my figure and recognition was there, relief was there, gratitude, affection and many other nuances that I can never seem to read or fully comprehend reflected in her eyes. I took her hand and kissed the back of it, allowing myself a small selfish gesture before leaving the room to inform the medics she woke up. Sakura gave me a strange, questioning look when I told her Hinata had woken up, but I didn’t care about subtlety at that second, I just wanted them to check her for any issues, I wanted her to be physically fine.

She didn’t have many memories of the war when she was first questioned, but they came back in waves and waves. I could tell that the questions overwhelmed her, much like the people that littered around, there were over 10 visitors in her tiny hospital room, from her father to Naruto, Kiba and many others. I just watched the whole situation from outside her window. I noticed her looking around, searching for someone that wasn’t there. No, it wasn’t me, she knew I wouldn’t be there when other people were, I knew exactly who she was searching for, that’s why I wanted to be close by. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, I knew things would take a turn for the worse soon enough. I saw it, the exact moment the fog raised off of her memories, the moment in which reality hit her, the moment in which the remaining light in her eyes died.

She asked for Neji, Naruto cringed, her father was the one to inform her of his passing. She asked when the funeral was going to be and silence fell onto the room. Sakura tried to slowly explain that the war ended two months ago and all the dead were already long buried. Hinata cried, she cried for her fallen cousin, she cried for missing his funeral, she cried for herself. They all gave her hugs and condolences, they reassured her that none of that was her fault. They all expected her to mourn and soon enough bounce back to the façade she always kept around the people in the village. They were unaware of the emotional depth her sadness could reach. I knew their expectations would never be met, I could tell that the headspace she was in was similar to the night I found her on the forest floor, she had the same look in her eyes as when she constantly begged me to let her die. Knowing all of that, I expected her to make certain choices, yet, despite knowing what was to come, I was unable to help, there wasn’t a single moment in which she was alone for a week to come. And when it all happened, I panicked at the notion of her death and responded wrongly to her actions.

I wasn’t watching her when she attempted to kill herself, I was with Tsunade who kept insisting that I accept their fake arm. I was in the midst of refusing once more, when I could feel a commotion in her room, I left without a word and ran there. The image that was in front of me wasn’t surprising but it was just as heart-breaking. Hinata’s bed was covered in blood, her left wrist was being treated by Sakura but you could still see the long and slim-cut along her wrist, Naruto was holding her other arm trying to put pressure on her wrist to stop the bleeding. It scared me, the amount of blood on herself and the bed, her light-headedness and indifference indicated that she had been bleeding for a long time. She waited for a moment in which I wasn’t there either, she wanted to escape me too. Had Naruto and Sakura been late they might have found her corpse instead. I left the room to calm myself down, I couldn’t cause a commotion. I tried my best to come up with kind and comforting words to tell her later when I would return to her room, but when I did, the image that greeted me, her arms strapped to the bed, made me lose my composure. I screamed at her, I can’t even recall what I said but I know it was very inappropriate, she laughed, she cried. Trying to comfort her with only one arm was difficult, that was the very first moment when I even considered accepting Tsunade’s offer, but in the end I didn’t. I spent every night that followed with her, after the initial shock I was able to recall the words I meant to give her, I knew they weren’t going to miraculously fix everything but I felt that she needed them nonetheless.

She apologized for considering that path and acting on her thoughts. I undid her chains and pulled her to my lap as she talked. “The moment my eyes moved past Naruto’s shoulders and I saw you in the door frame I regretted my choice, I wished I could undo it if only to never have to see that look on your face” I placed my face into her hair and just breathed her in. “I think I understand a little better now…what you felt when Itachi died, when you found out the truth. Our situations aren’t the same but I remember how…” she stopped, searching for the perfect word.

“Crazy? Unhinged? Mad?” I provided, but she frowned and shook her head.

“No, no, none of those…how anguished, sorrowful, wretched you were at the time. You come to me in a very agitated state, I was scared and concerned but couldn’t grasp that feeling. Now I do” If I’m honest I don’t remember how felt at the time, I don’t remember many things about that period of my life, all I know is that I wanted to give up, I thought I had made only wrong choices in my life, but I saw her and I remembered that even I could save someone.

After a few more nights she assured me that she was now mentally stable, her sadness was still very much present, but she had not had any self-harming thoughts. The decision to leave the village was very difficult at the time, but Hinata assured me that she enjoyed our routine and wished to continue it. I left but our correspondence was much more frequent than before the war, I would write her every other day and she’d reply as soon as my messages reached her. It took a bit over 3 months for her to resume her work as an ANBU, and a bit over 8 months in total to convince Kakashi to promote her to ANBU Black Ops. Her missions became more difficult and longer, she even had a mission in Amegakure that lasted half a year. When she first sent me the message informing me of the location of her mission it reminded me of our first encounter after I left the village. Our encounter that summer isn’t a memory I think of fondly, I was cruel, I was insane, I abused my knowledge of her trauma. Whenever I remember my actions, I want to go back and rewind the time, I want to apologize to 15-year-old Hinata, she was meek and fragile and I broke a part of her. She was doing her best to survive and to keep going and I was a huge obstacle in her recovery. When my feelings for her started changing I was always self-conscious whether they were genuine or not, wasn’t I using her? Wasn’t I just feeling guilty?

Hinata, age 15

I am nervous as I pack my bag for this mission, it is my first solo mission ever. 6 months after I became a Jonin and Tsunade finally trusts me enough to allow me to go alone in a mission. The destination is Amegakure and the mission is supposed to last for about to 3 weeks. The difficulty level of the mission is only B which I’d be pretty annoyed at, but the distance factor and the solo factor make up for it so, I am equally nervous and excited. When I told Neji about the mission he was concerned but didn’t show it much for my sake. Instead, he congratulated me and we had a small picnic in the outer skirt of the Hyuuga estate as celebration.

Now I am looking through my dresser for appropriate clothes for the rain to pack, I have to look for another set of kunais just in case and prepare myself a couple of bentos to have on hand. Slowly, the closer the night before my departure gets the less anxious I am, excitement seems to be the winning sentiment.

The morning of, I wake up at 4:30 a.m. and am unable to sleep longer. By the time I am fully dressed and ready to go it’s only 5:00 a.m. and the sun is barely raising, but I decide that it is light enough outside for me to leave. As always whenever I pass through the forest there’s a chill going through my veins and my enthusiasm is a bit dampened, I actively try and avoid that specific place even if it means it will add to the journey time. On the schedule, Tsunade gave me I’m meant to spend 8 days on the road to the village, approximately 4 or 5 days into the village and 8 more days back.

The mission itself isn’t supposed to be that difficult all I need to do is meet with different people in the village give them the scrolls Tsunade gave me and wait for their replies. All in all, there should be no fighting, I’m mostly a messenger but the large amount of people that need contacting made it impossible for a summon raven to deliver the scrolls. My adrenaline rush of being on my own, experiencing what freedom feels like made me speed up during the journey, I took less stops and didn’t even spend the night in one of the Inns I was supposed to. Thus, not only did I depart earlier than planned but I arrived into the village almost a day and a half ahead of the schedule. Since it’s still barely past noon I decide to start the mission a day early and I am able to cover a fifth of the task on the first day.

People usually when talking about Amegakure call it gloomy and depressing, but I enjoy walking around in the rain, the temperature isn’t too high despite it being the middle of a heatwave everywhere else, the smell and sounds of rain also add to its charm. The Inn I’m supposed to stay at for the duration of my mission is on the outside of the village, it is away from the noise of the centre, but not far out enough to say it isn’t part of the village at all. Walking into my room I sit down and finally grasp that I am days away from Konoha, I am alone. The realization makes me emotional; I hadn’t realized how much I needed to be on my own, how good it would feel to put distance between me and everything that Konoha entailed.

Sitting alone in the dark, only with the occasional lightning brightening up my room, I make a decision, I promise myself to only ever come on solo missions. I’ve endured years of discomfort so I deserved to feel this way, if only during missions. I take a shower and go to bed, I’m not as physically tired as I thought I would be after the journey and that worries me. I don’t want the nightmare to come and ruin my mood, but I close my eyes nonetheless.

It feels like barely a second passed when I open my eyes and see the cool light coming from outside. The sun is hidden behind the clouds of rain, but its light still pushes through to an extent. I had no dreams, no nightmares. I rested well and I feel better than I did in many years. I walk barefoot onto the cold wooden floor and I open the window, not caring that the rain is getting both me and the floor wet. I close my eyes and feel immensely liberated, the heavy chains that dragged me down at all times disappeared. Nobody here knows me and I don’t know them, I am but a face in the crowd, this anonymity offers me the independence I never knew before.

I complete the mission in under 3 days. I feel faster, stronger, happier here. It feels like I can do anything and everything. I have about 3 days I can waste in the village, under normal circumstances I’d return immediately to Konoha to get another mission and the cycle would repeat. But I decide to stay here for a while longer, I want to enjoy this feeling to the best of my ability. The day right after completing the mission I simply stay inside and sleep almost the whole day. I’m recharging my batteries which have been on low for 3 years now. I forgot what being well-rested felt like.

The following day I decide to wander around some more. The mission had me walk all over the village’s centre so, I decide to check out its outskirt more. I go and eat delicious food at a small booth owned by an older couple. Due to its relatively small scale Amegakure’s buildings are much much higher than those from Konoha so I climb on top of one that I deem to be among the highest and sit there, in the rain just watching the busy streets, looking over all the sky-high buildings and enjoying the feeling of being unrestrained by people’s gazes and expectations. For the smallest second, I feel someone’s gaze on me but I discard it as being the locals looking at the strange outsider that’s standing in the rain. I refuse to let my mood be dampened, not when I am just as high as this building is.

I return to the Inn and decide to take a shower, tomorrow is going to be my last day here and I feel like time is moving far too fast. I’m rinsing my hair when I get the same feeling as before, like someone is watching me. Before I can dismiss it again, I hear steps behind me, my mind goes blank. I’m suddenly turned around by a powerful hand, before closing my eyes I see a pair of black dead, unfeeling, cold, cruel, scary, scary, scary, scary eyes. I close my eyes and clench my jaw; I can feel tears trailing down my face. I’m hyperventilating, I can’t move, I’m weak, I’m small. I whimper when I feel his hand touching the scar right above my pelvis. The touch transports me back to when I’m 12 and on the ground, my legs no longer support me, the only reason why I’m still standing is because the man is holding my arm in an iron grip. The moment passes and his hand is gone allowing me to fall to my knees and then onto my butt. I have no idea how long I stay there in a trance. When I’m finally able to regain strength in my limbs to feel and make small movements I notice the shower water is freezing cold despite it being set to warm. I turn it off and walk into the room, there’s no trace of the man anymore, he didn’t do anything beyond touching my arm and my scar. Maybe he was simply created by my brain, yea no one was here, how could they be, why would they be.

I can feel myself slipping into hysteria as laughter bubbles up into my throat. I look around the room again searching for proof again and I sigh in relief when I find none. I’m finally calm enough to get dressed but I make the mistake of looking in the mirror. There’s a handprint on my arm where he gripped me. The print is red and turning a weird purple colour in places and yellow in others. He was here. He was real. I take small breaths in order to calm myself, I am fine, I am here, I can’t even picture the face of the man that was here, I try to force myself to forget the handprint, it was just a dream, another nightmare.

I pack my things and leave that very night despite being tired physically, mentally and emotionally. I don’t want to return to Konoha, and I can’t stay here, I don’t know where to go. The freedom I felt before gave me an amazing sense of accomplishment, but now it is a source of unease. I feel lost and like I do not belong anywhere. I feel insignificant. I feel lonely. I close my eyes and just sit on the floor outside of the village, waiting for something or someone to come get me. But nothing happens and the weather is turning cold despite the summer so I pick myself up and start walking wherever the road will take me.

I don’t remember the journey back home, I can’t even tell in how many days I completed it, I didn’t stop at all, I just ran. I ran from the man, the past, I ran from my weak self. I thought myself to be strong now that I am a Jonin, but I froze and was unable to do anything all the same. I need to be more than I am, I need to be stronger, braver, untouchable, more perceptive.

I hate myself for hesitating to enter the Konoha, I hate myself for hesitating to take on a new mission when Tsunade offers it. I hate myself when I have to walk through the halls of the Hyuuga compound, I hate myself when I hide from Neji. I hate myself when I walk into my room and burst into tears. I hate myself for getting my hope that high in Ame only to have them all crash and burn. I hate that I feel more broken today than I did 3 weeks ago.

Sasuke, age 16

I’ve been in a weird mood since a week ago when I saw Hyuuga in the Village Hidden in Rain. I hadn’t heard or seen anything related to Konoha since I left during the Chunnin exam. She was my first contact with it. Hinata Hyuuga, I remember her name clearly, she holds a special meaning to me, she is a life I saved. I saved her back before I was caught up in any business with Orochimaru, when I still thought following Kakashi was the right path to take, back when I was stupid and naïve. I hadn’t thought of her since that moment, but when my eyes fell onto her, I felt proud that she survived, but I also felt the need, the urge to utterly crush her beneath my feet. Her life belongs to me; I saved her so, I have every right to destroy her.

I could tell she was uncomfortable with me there, I felt her flinch as I traced the scar above her pelvis, I heard her whimper when I turned around, and I saw from the corner of my eye, as her legs have in and she fell to the floor. She looked small and pathetic and I felt strong in comparison.

However, now, days later I feel…guilt. I feel as if I used something against her that I shouldn’t have. At the time her image was blurry and not something I paid attention to, but I can clearly see it now whenever I close my eyes. He white skin had almost no imperfections besides the three scars, her eyes were shut tight, her face was red and wet, at the time I gloated at the thought that the water droplets were tears, now I’m hoping they were from the shower. Her long dark hair was wet and clinging to her body. She did her best to hide from me with her hands, with her position slightly bent. She was helpless, she didn’t even try to stop me, she didn’t scream or fight back, she froze in place and allowed me to do whatever I wanted. At the time that too made me feel powerful, I deluded myself into thinking that my presence as Sasuke Uchiha made her cower in fear. Now that I am analysing things once more, I realize it was her trauma that rendered her powerless, it was my presence that caused her fear, but she wasn’t scared of me, Sasuke, but rather of me, a male; she didn’t see me as an individual but as the image of the man that hurt her in the past.

Realizing that in her mind I was equal to that disgusting piece of trash makes me livid. I clench my jaw, pick up the first thing I see, a jar of whatever substance from one of Orochimaru’s labs and I throw it to the wall. The green liquid escapes its container and slowly eats away at the wall and ground, the sizzling noise and putrid smell don’t even bother me. I’m angry at her, I want to find her and scream in her face that I’m not that man. I wanna shake her until she understands. I am mad at her, at myself. Kabuto comes in and curses, he drags me out and talks under his breath, his presence adds to my anger.

“What do you want?” I ask him, I’m looking down at him. I grew taller these past few weeks, taller than him. I want him to pick a fight, I want a reason to smash his face in. The image of his bloody face as he lays unconscious on the ground would bring me the satisfaction I need. He looks mockingly at me, that’s enough to start a fight.

Less than 20 minutes later the fight is over, he’s not unconscious, he’s still standing, more precisely, walking away. But he is bleeding and so am I. The fight didn’t help. I still feel angry, but my anger is slowly being overshadowed by guilt.

The sudden urge to find her and apologize overcomes me, but I dismiss it. She’s long gone…I checked. The two of us won’t meet anytime soon and even if we do, I’ll never apologize, not to her, not to someone that…weak…

Hinata age 22

After sleeping in until 11 after all, I wake up to Sasuke’s face next to mine, I feel at ease, I feel happy. I cup his face and place a kiss over his closed eyelids. I feel his change in breath when he wakes up but his eyes remain closed. His arm comes around my waist and pulls me closer to him, slowly he opens his eyes and offers me a lazy smirk. For a while I forget that we’re in Konoha, I forget everything about people trying to control me. All my worries just disappear with his presence.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks and brushes my bangs out of my eyes. ‘You’ I want to say, but I decide to be selfish instead. I sit up and he does too, I move towards him and place myself on his lap, we are chest to chest, face-to-face. “I am unsure how long they’ll make me stay here. This... sensei job…they could stretch it for months, who knows.” I hate that that’s true, I hate that they’re trying to cage me into the village. “it’s difficult being here for an indefinite period of time, especially since I don’t have out missions to look forward to. So…” I stop talking, rethinking what I’m about to ask, wondering if it’s worth it, but he looks at me with no judgement, he’s waiting patiently. “So…I was thinking. Maybe being here in Konoha would be better…if you were here as well” Part of me initially regrets the words and wants to take them back.

“You want me to stay here until you can go back to your normal missions” he didn’t formulate it as a question so I didn’t reply, mostly because I didn’t trust myself not to say no, to act like it was a joke, so I stay silent. “Ok, I will” his hand is on my wrist and it’s slowly moving up under my tank top. “You should already know that anything you ask of me, I’ll do Hinata” I do know that, but this was something that I had been afraid to ask for a while. Would staying in Konoha be better with him here? It must be.

We talk some more about his stay in Konoha and then proceed to eat a late breakfast. “I passed by the cottage outside of Amegakure on my way to Konoha” that cottage will forever represent my safe space, all my memories in it are out-of-this-world happy. The cottage itself is pretty much outside every territory of every village, it belongs to nobody, yet that’s the place I feel I belong in. I stayed there for my thirst or fourth mission as an ANBU, as usual Sasuke met up with me and we live together there for months. Sasuke and I worked together for most of my missions, we completed them faster than it was estimated they would take and we spent the remaining of the time just being together outside of all the rules of everyone. That was the place in which after much deliberation and inner-fights I decided to put my trust in him. By then we had already expressed our feelings verbally and with actions such as kisses and hugs, but I wanted to move past that because I craved that closeness with someone, I wanted a stronger bond between us, but also out of spite, I wanted to prove that I was able to enjoy sex. I wanted to prove that what had happened no longer affected me. Out first time was a bit awkward, we were both virgins, Sasuke was overly conscious of making me feel comfortable and I just wanted it to be done with so our desired speed didn’t match, but it happened and it was fine. The second and third time around it was much better and now we reached a point in which intimacy with him doesn’t scare me in the least, I love it and it makes me feel amazing. I am aware that I’m not fully over the incident, the close proximity of strange men that I don’t know still bothers me at times, however, I am much stronger and able to protect myself, I am just...wary.

I end my train of thoughts by going back to the memory of our first time and it makes me giggle a little. Sasuke asks me with his eyes what I’m laughing about and my reply is only a smirk, I see the wheels spinning in his brain and the connections being made. I love that after so many years we’re able to just understand each other in this manner. He gets up from his chair and walks around the table to place his hand on the nape of my neck. “I can show you how much I’ve improved since than” he whispers and bends down to kiss me. I smile against his lips and loop my arms around his neck allowing him to pick me up.

I must have fallen asleep again because I am woken up this time by Naruto loudly knocking on my door. He left me alone yesterday because Sasuke was around but I guess even his long-lost best friend can’t keep his attention off of me for more than 24 hours. I look next to me and my heart hurts because Sasuke isn’t there. I tell myself it’s because he felt Naruto so he left, but I still don’t like that.

Naruto keep knocking on the door and I’m sure he’s about to tear it down if I don’t open it soon so I walk to it in my pjs with my hair a mess. When I open the door, he stops in his tracks. “Oh…” his eyes linger onto the scar on my shoulder, he has an obsession with it I’ve noticed. Does he believe that’s my biggest scar…if only he knew. “I didn’t know you were sleeping, I’m sorry”

“After yesterday’s mission the kids have the day off so I wanted to rest” I don’t assure him that it is ok even though I know that’s the polite thing to do. I am bitter and annoyed that Sasuke isn’t there. For a split moment when I woke up, I thought I had imagined his presence.

“I just wanted to bring these to you.” He says and presents me with a pile of papers. “I know you were given them before when Kakashi assigned you as their sensei” hah, like it was Kakashi’s idea. Hokage-sama wouldn’t have pushed me into being a sensei from a Black Ops and we all know that. I know Naruto pulled all of the strings to get me here, however, Kakashi-san is also to blame for allowing all of this to happen “but I think you should really read them well, you said you have a free day today. I can stay here with you and read them together”

I look at him and his easy-going smile. On normal days I’d try and be nice, but all I want to do today is spend my time in peace. “I heard Uchiha-san is back. Are you sure you want to spend the day with me reading about some kids rather than catch up with him?” I feel sorry for guiding Naruto towards Sasuke, but I know Sasuke and if he’s one thing, he’s good at not being found.

Upon hearing Sasuke’s name Naruto’s smile brightened to the extent that it actually hurt my eyes. “I already saw and talked to him today” He left before Naruto came here, was it before we ate? After? When did they meet? “We talked and agreed to go on a mission together this week” He’s leaving after I asked him to stay “We went to Kakashi and already got all the info, so I’ll spend a lot of time together with him and find out all about what he’s been up to in these years and I ---” Naruto keeps talking but I feel suffocated.

[alexiessan]

Senses - Chapter One - Soulmate AU

AO3

Here - Next

Master List

Happy birthday to me! As a gift from me to you, here is the first chapter of my new story! It's more mature than the other one, so be sure to be careful before you start reading.

This work was inspired by Sense8. The soulbond works the same way as in the TV Show. I've tried to explain it as best as I could in chapter 2, but I don't know if I succeeded. If you've watched it, you'll have no issue. If you haven't, it's a good TV show but it's not for everyone. If you're under 18, I don't recommend you watch it as there are violence and graphic sexual content in it.

In this story though, there is no graphic sexual content. It's implied, just like in Never Alone. But there are graphic depiction of violence and blood at some point, I'll warn you in the notes at the beginning of the chapter of course.

TW: Marinette has a bit of a panic attack in here, but it's really short!

Summary: Marinette never thought that she would be among the 0.1% of the population to have a soulmate, and yet, here she was.She wasn't ready for her life to change drastically because of it.

The first time Damian heard about soulmates was when he was fourteen-year-old. His mother never mentioned it when he was a child and neither did his father nor any of his brothers when he came to live in Gotham when he was ten.

The reason he never heard of it was simple: only 0.1% of the population had a soulmate. Which meant that the chance of him having one were close to none.

While soulmates were common knowledge, it wasn’t particularly talked about because of the rarity of it. People weren’t jealous of the very few who got one, but there was a curiosity about this topic.

So, when Damian first saw a girl in the dining room while he and his family were having dinner, he was more than surprised. No one should be able to enter the Manor unnoticed.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?!” he asked, or rather, demanded in a cold tone.

The girl jumped as if she hadn’t noticed him at all. She turned around, her eyes landing on him and she squealed, letting the sketchbook and pen that were in her hands fall on the floor.

“What- Who are you?! And how did you get in here?”

“I’m the one asking the questions.”

His family looked at him before looking around. Dick left his seat to approach him.

“Who are you talking to?” he asked softly, as if afraid to startle him.

It made Damian frown. He didn’t need his oldest brother to treat him like he was going to break down if he were to talk louder than that.

“I’m talking to this girl who somehow broke into our house.”

The girl scoffed. “Excuse me, but it’s the other way around. You’re in my house.”

The youngest Wayne stood up, hitting his fist on the table.

“Stop with this nonsense. How could I be at your house when you’re clearly in mine?”

There was a soft gasp coming from behind him and Alfred came behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down.

“I think I know what is going on, Master Damian. And there is no need to worry.”

“No need to worry,” the pre-teen exclaimed, turning around to face the man. “A girl just broke into our home and you’re saying there is nothing to worry about?”

“Indeed. Because there is no one here.”

He went to argue, to tell them that there was obviously a girl around his age right in front of them, that he wasn’t going crazy. But when he turned around, the girl was no longer here.

“What- where did she go?”

“Master Damian, you were the only one seeing her.”

Damian scowled as he faced Alfred again. “How is that possible?” he looked at his brothers and his father who were looking at him in worry. “I’m not going insane!” he defended.

“No one said you were,” answered Dick, but there was an edge in his voice that said otherwise.

“You didn’t but you still think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Well, you did see someone no one else saw,” started Jason.

Tim remained silent, as did his father, probably trying to understand what was going on.

“But Master Damian is not going insane,” Alfred stated, still as calm as ever. “He just met his soulmate.”

There were several gasps around the table, and the look of worry disappeared from the members of his family’s faces, to be replaced by a look of understanding.

“What are you talking about exactly,” he asked, feeling calmer now that there was an explanation about what just happened, even if he didn’t fully understand it yet.

His father cleared his throat. “I’m not surprised you didn’t hear about soulmates until now. Talia probably never saw the use to, and I didn’t think about bringing it up.”

The middle-aged man took a bite of his meal, swallowing before continuing.

“It’s not common, but some people do have a soulmate out there. I believe it’s only 0.1% of the population, if not less.”

He fell silent, disregarding his meal as he contemplated how to explain this particular topic to his son. Never did he think that he would meet someone with a soulmate. Because, yes, it was that rare. Never would he have thought that his own son would be one of the people having a soulmate.

But it was a good thing, Bruce thought. His son, who had so many difficulties trusting others and befriending people, was blessed with someone who he could trust with his life.

He knew it wouldn’t be that easy. That Damian would scoff at the idea. That he would probably be rude to the girl that was assigned as his soulmate when he will see her again. That it would probably take years for him to give his soulmate his trust.

But she would be the one he would trust the most, one day.

“When you have a soulmate, someone that was decided to be your perfect partner by the fates, they appear to you from time to time. Either you’ll see them where you are, or you’ll appear at their location. They’re not really there, but you’ll sense them all the same. You can touch them, interact with them, but you can’t have any interaction with their environment.”

He sighed, feeling that his explanation was not helping at all.

“There are, sometimes, body switches. You don’t always control them, especially in the beginning, but you can learn to. The… uh… ‘apparitions’, let’s call them that, will be random too until you learn how to control it.”

Bruce massaged his temples, trying to remember what he knew of soulmates.

“Oh,” he began again, “if your soulmate speaks another language, it will be automatically translated to the one you speak.”

He finally looked at his son in the eyes, seeing him frown. “Basically, your soulmate is the other half of your soul. Your one true partner, the one who will never betray you. Congratulations, Damian.”

His other sons smiled at their younger brother, taking their turn to congratulate him, but the pre-teen only frowned.

“What’s wrong?” asked Bruce, even though he knew exactly what his son was thinking.

Damian scoffed. “I don’t believe in that. Who can decide who to trust but me?”

Bruce sighed, crossing his arms. “I’m not saying that you have to trust that girl immediately. You are soulmates, yes, but it works like every other relationship. With work and efforts to get to know each other. I know your trust has to be earned. Well, so be it. Just know that, as your soulmate, whether you like it or not, that girl is here to stay.” Bruce smiled. “She was chosen for you.”

Damian scowled, and Bruce let out a laugh. “We’ll see where it goes. Don’t think too much about it.”

Bruce was about to go back to eating when Damian finally spoke up.

“If she appears at random times without any of us having control of it, my identity will be compromised.”

Bruce froze, as did his other sons.

He had thought of that, of course. There was no hiding something that big to a soulmate. And while he didn’t like the idea to trust someone he didn’t know with his son’s identity — and his own and his other sons’ too — he had to believe that the person assigned as his son’s soulmate could be trusted.

After all, not a lot of people could be his son’s soulmate.

“It will. And we’ll have to bear with that. Since it’s your soulmate, it means that she is someone you can trust, even if you take a long time to trust her because of your issues.”

He sighed.

“I don’t like that our identities will be compromised, but we can’t do anything about it.”

“I can always threaten her.”

Jason laughed. “That’s a very bad way to start any sort of relationship, brat.”

They all returned to their dinner silently, all worried about their identity.

Especially since there was nothing there would be able to do about it.

Marinette was having trouble breathing. Her vision was turning black the more it lasted.

She was having a panic attack, she realized, like an afterthought.

She tried touching things around her. She found the sketchbook and the pen that had fallen on the floor earlier. She felt a piece of paper too — one of Adrien’s pictures she has been getting rid of, she realized — and the wood of the floor.

But it was Tikki’s voice that made her calm down.

“Marinette, you’re okay. I’m here and you’re in your room. Nothing can hurt you here. Listen to my voice, alright? Breathe in… Hold it… Breathe out.”

She listened carefully to the kwami’s instructions and after awfully long minutes, she managed to calm down enough to breathe.

“What happened,” the little god finally asked, her voice soothing to Marinette.

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath before looking around, making sure that the boy from earlier was truly gone.

He was there, just like that, coming out of nowhere, and gone the next moment.

Marinette wasn’t stupid. She knew what it meant. She had heard about soulmates from Tikki.

She just didn’t think that she would be one of those people with one. It felt so surreal.

“There was a boy here just five minutes ago.”

Tikki frowned.

“But there was no one…” she said before her eyes widened. “Oh! You’ve got your first contact with your soulmate! Marinette!” she exclaimed, flying in circles as she expressed her joy. “That’s amazing! You have a soulmate.”

Marinette said nothing, frowning as she looked around in her room.

The photos of Adrien that have been hanging on her walls were now on the ground sorted in a pile, waiting to be thrown out.

Marinette fell in love with Adrien almost a year ago, when he gave her his umbrella.

She had changed so much after that, obsessing over him like she has never obsessed over anything before.

She had had photos of him on her walls. His schedule too.

And yet, she hadn’t seen anything wrong with it at the time.

It was only when she had this weird double date with Luka, Adrien, and Kagami, after dragging Luka in this, did she realize.

Her love — no, her obsession — for Adrien wasn’t healthy. She was becoming a stalker and trying to sabotage other people for her own gain.

She was so focused on Adrien that everything else came in second place.

She didn’t like who she was becoming. Marinette didn’t like herself anymore.

And wasn’t it important to love oneself? Or to at least, to have some self-respect?

But Marinette didn’t like nor did she respect herself when she was in love with Adrien.

So she had to move on for her own sake if not for other’s.

She had taken down his schedule first. Then, it was the pictures, little by little.

There was so much of them that it took her a few days to take them down completely. School, homework, and her Ladybug’s duties left her with little time for anything else.

It was one in the morning right now, on the weekend that she finally took down the last of the pictures. She wasn’t tired yet so she had decided to sketch a little.

And then, the boy appeared.

Marinette was only now trying to move on from Adrien. From a frankly unhealthy crush — which made her wonder why her friends were encouraging it in the first place — and it was difficult, but she had to do it, to find herself again.

And somehow, the fates decided that it was a good time for her to introduce her to her soulmate.

No. Marinette couldn’t do this.

What if she became obsessed once again? What if she was actually insane and would obsess over anyone she would feel attracted to?

She wasn’t ready for a soulmate.

Deciding that it wouldn’t do any good to keep all that to herself, she told Tikki everything she was thinking.

The Kwami looked at her with this smile that reminded her so much of her mother.

“Oh, Marinette,” she sighed softly. “You’re not insane. Don’t be afraid of love because your first experience wasn’t a good one.”

“It was unhealthy, Tikki,” the blue-eyed girl interrupted.

“It was. But it’s also my fault. I didn’t tell you it was, and you were only thirteen when you fell in love with Adrien. You didn’t recognize an unhealthy behavior yet. I should have told you. But you realized that you didn’t like who you were becoming and decided to change. It’s a good thing. You’re admitting your errors and you’re taking your responsibilities to try and correct them.”

She flew to Marinette’s cheek and give her a little hug.

“And I’m proud of you for that,” the little kwami said. “It was the first time you fell in love. You got a bit excited. To the point of obsession, and obsession is never a good thing. Never. But you’re moving on from that. Now that you know it’s wrong, you won’t do it anymore, I know it.”

The fashion designer nodded, reassured by her friend’s words.

“I…” she hesitated but continued when Tikki nodded at her. “I still don’t want a soulmate… I mean… In theory, it’s amazing. My other half… The one I will trust more than anyone else in the world… But I don’t want to be forced to love them.”

Tikki laughed. “You won’t. The bond is just introducing you and, yeah, it will force you to spend time together with the apparitions and the switches, but it’s just saying: ‘Look! Here is the perfect person for you. They’re right here! Now, do what you want with this knowledge.’ You will love them because you want to, not because the bond is forcing you.”

The designer looked away, still skeptical.

Tikki smiled. “I understand your skepticism. But you’ll see for yourself.” she kissed her holder’s cheek. “Just keep an open mind, okay?”

“Alright.” Marinette sighed, getting up and gathering Adrien’s pictures. “Okay. Time to move on,” she said determinedly.

And she threw the last pictures in the trash.

Next

Tag List: 

@justafanwarrior​ @animegirlweeb​