#Perhaps oddly enough‚ but at the end of the day I don't even agree with the sentiment “Teruko's death solved no narrative purpose”

[kyouka-supremacy]

//

[anxiouswriter0]

i don't care | Laurie Laurence

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Inside one of the rooms of the march residence lay the feverish body of one of the sisters, to be specific, (y/n) March.

the girl might have contracted an illness due to the strain she had been under in recent days. for a moment, her sisters and mother were terrified that perhaps (y/n) had contracted scarlet fever, but luckily that wasn't the case. although she was taken care of by everyone, (y/n) didn't agree with being looked after. it's not that she was stubborn (or maybe she was), she just didn't want her sisters to stop attending to their activities to take care of her.

lying on the bed with both arms behind her head, resting on the pillow, and with a thick blanket covering her from the waist down.

trying to rest for the umpteenth time. but this time (y/n) managed to close her eyes completely.

but suddenly, soft knocks sounded behind the door. (y/n) reluctantly turned her head towards the door. as no one entered or even asked, she rolled her eyes, closed them again, but... the knocks sounded again.

—Jo, if it's you, don't worry, I'm fine, okay? —(y/n) spoke hoarsely.

no one responded.

—Jo? —(y/n) asked without even looking, as she didn't even have her eyes open due to the exhaustion she was feeling.

the sound of the door being opened, along with the echo of boots resonating on the wooden floorboards, filled the room. the small "creak" of the door closing gently was all that could be heard, as if the person entering the room wanted to make as little noise as possible, but the sound of their boots on the wood gave them away. (y/n), who still had her eyes closed, could hear every step, softly echoing in the room, approaching. Until at one moment, they stopped, and (y/n) felt the weight of someone sitting down beside her bed.

opening her eyes slightly and trying to visualize who it was, although at first everything seemed blurry, (y/n) gradually began to recognize the facial features of that person.

—Laurie? —she asked, astonished, as the person smiled gently.

—What are you doing here? —she asked, confused, but with a noticeable discreet smile.

—Jo told me you were in bed, so since everyone had their turn to visit you, I felt like now it was my turn to do so, —Laurie joked, eliciting a small smile from (y/n).

—But putting that aside, how are you feeling? —he asked, changing the subject.

—Do you really want to know? —(y/n) asked, as Laurie nodded in response.

—Terribly indebted to them, —(y/n) blurted out, making Laurie laugh. —You should have seen them coming in and out of the room. I couldn't sleep with the sound of their shoes echoing on the floor, the door opening and closing, and please don't make me remember the sound of their desperate voices. for a moment, I felt like I was dying, —(h/c) laughed, while feeling Laurie rub her hand over the arm that was extended behind (y/n)'s head..

—But amidst all the chaos you're telling me, I see that you're doing well, —he said, rested her hand on the other end of the bed, beside the girl's body.

—Tell my sisters, —said (y/n), placing her arm over her eyes.

at that moment, a small silence filled the room, but oddly enough, it wasn't uncomfortable as some might have expected.

however, that silence and atmosphere were interrupted when (y/n) felt fingers glide over her cheek, the thumb tracing her cheekbone delicately. this caught (y/n)'s attention, causing her to remove her arm from her eyes.

—What are you doing?— she asked

—I'm looking at you, —Laurie joked.

—How silly, —(y/n) murmured, although she regretted it a bit when she noticed Laurie's sudden serious expression, with his head pointing towards the ground. With some effort, she managed to sit up at least, placing her hand on Laurie's shoulder to get his attention. —I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...—

—Don't worry, —Laurie interrupted, —it's not that —he murmured softly at the end.

—Then what is it? —(y/n) asked, confused.

with that, Laurie let out a long sigh that (y/n) could hear. she watched as he turned his gaze towards her. suddenly, Laurie shifted on the bed and slowly extended his hands, taking (y/n)'s hands in his. this gesture made (y/n) nervous due to Laurie's sudden actions.

—(y/n)...— he began, but the realization dawned on (y/n) about what Laurie might say.

—Laurie, no... don't do it, —interrupted with a disappointed voice, pulling her hands away from his.

—What? Why? —Laurie murmured, trying to take (y/n)'s hands again, but she kept them out of his reach.

—Because I know you love Jo, —(y/n) affirmed, noticing Laurie's surprised expression. —I know, —she murmured at the end.

(y/n) turned her gaze away, avoiding Laurie's eyes, while all he did was take the girl's hand again.

—Please, (y/n), please listen —Laurie murmured as he gently caressed her hand. —You're right, I love Jo... but the love I feel for you is different, —he affirmed with determination. With his other hand, he gently held (y/n)'s chin, turning it so their gazes met.

laurie noticed how tiny tears streamed down (y/n)'s cheek. tenderly, he slid his thumb over her eyes, wiping away every trace of sadness he found.

—I mean it, —he murmured. —Why don't you believe me?—

(y/n) shook her head.

—I don't know, —she said between sobs.

—then let me show you. Let me show you that I'm serious, —he murmured, moving closer to she, their faces just inches apart.

laurie, being so close, could feel the warmth emanating from her. he could have joked that perhaps was embarrassed by the moment, but he chose to remain silent, not wanting to ruin the moment.

laurie tenderly held (y/n)'s face in his hands and began to kiss her gently. he started on her cheek, then moved up to her temple and placed another kiss, moving on to her forehead and then to the other cheek. as he did so, he noticed (y/n) starting to giggle. emboldened by the joy of the moment, laurie ventured to give her a sudden kiss on the tip of her nose, eliciting even more laughter and a warm feeling in his heart.

however, at one point, laurie stopped, fixing his gaze on a place he hadn't kissed yet.

(y/n) noticed and warned him.

—If you get sick, Laurie, I'm not going to take care of you —she said, staying just inches away from him.

laurie could only smile as he let his lips meet hers. In that moment, it didn't matter if he couldn't get up tomorrow. All that mattered to him in that moment was what they were sharing.

they both pulled away in search of air, although they kept their foreheads together. In that small space between them, the rapid beating of their hearts resonate like a shared echo of intense emotions.

—i don't care —murmured laurie.

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↳ Note: I made this little one-shot a long time ago and I never could finish it, I always had it as a draft. Also, I saw that the theme of the 'little women' had already gone out of style. So, I didn't want to upload it.now i want to cry ↳ p.s: I just noticed that this has a lot of (y/n) and a lot of Laurie. :D I'll try to improve and not to put so much (y/n).

[lightlycareless]

This feels Naoya and Naohime coded 🤭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8RA51xG/

Hi anon!

Yes... yes it is. Definitely, there's no denying it. 🥺 aaghhhhh I don't have much to say since it's mostly written down below so I'll just jump to it!!

Warnings: none. fluff. Naoya and you are married and have 5 kids, Naohime is the last one that you ended up having much older :) you could say she wasn't planned but she's definitely wanted.

Happy reading!

I like seeing things like this considering the subtext that usually follows, in other words, since I always envisioned Naohime being around the time Naoya is more present at the estate… it means he’ll have more opportunities to record these little moments between the two and not just see them through his cellphone. (Being away from home, you doing all the recording… that kind of stuff)

 However, he’s quite disappointed that he’s not able to replicate the same level of cuteness you seemed to capture back in the day; while yours were heartwarming, a glimpse into your everyday… Naoya just shows how much of a struggling father he is, and how much Naohime doesn’t seem to like him.

“Oh, Naoya” you giggle upon hearing his dismayed lament. You had to leave for a few days to help out your family with some unprecedented clan matters, so naturally you miss your husband and baby so, so much. Thankfully, Naoya knew just what to do to remedy that.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think the same way about his own problem.

“I don’t think our peanut likes me that much, mochi.”

“That’s just how she always is, honey. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you; she’s always so excited to see you and play with you!” you reassure. “Though we do need to help her with that… it’s not healthy for her to have said outbursts…”

“I can agree with that, however, I think she wants to see you more than me right now.”

“Aw, don’t tell me that—it’ll just make me want to go back quicker!”

“Then do so. We miss you.”

“Ohhh, I will, then! I’ll tell my family to hurry so I can see my adorable baby and handsome husband.” You giggle, followed by a short moment of silence and a sigh. “Ah, remember when our kids were younger? It seems like it was only yesterday that we welcomed out little Naomi home… and now she’s almost 20!”

“I remember how giddy she was.” Naoya adds. “And talkative too—very talkative.”

“She was so cute too… I could literally listen to her babbles all day!” You gushed. “I wonder what she was saying…? Oh! Or how Naori would tightly hold onto my hand whenever we went out…”

“Now, don’t tell me you’re feeling—” he smirks, you shake your head.

“No, considering our age, it’s… too much.” You respond, almost lamenting so. Perhaps if the circumstances had been different, if taking care of children wasn’t so exhausting as it was gratifying, then… maybe.

Just maybe.

“We had a good run, didn’t we?” Naoya muses. “5 kids, almost ranked me out.”

“Yeah, we did. Definitely surpassed me.” You laugh. “I don’t know how we did it… but I’m glad we did. Guess my only regret is having paced them out so oddly; I don’t think Naomi enjoyed having a baby brother 8 years younger than her. It was clear she wanted someone to play with, not to look after.”

“No one knew what would happen, my love. But even then, I wouldn’t risk losing you.” Naoya responds. Though he agrees with your sentiment, he’d much rather... “I would’ve been happy nonetheless if we only had one child.”

“…Really? ‘Cause your long list of names imply otherwise…” you jest, he chuckles.

“What? I simply got inspired after Naomi—though I ran out of names by the 12th one.”

“5 was enough, then.” You conclude.

“More than enough, I’d say perfect.” He agrees. “…Thank you, for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, we did this together.”

“But you made me feel deserving of a family—that someone like me is still capable of being happy.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do for the love of my life.” You add, his heart skips a beat.

“I swear that I’ll find you in our next life and make things right this time around, since the very beginning.”

“Just to be with you is enough for me, Naoya. However, I do hope you don’t take long in finding me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I think we ought to prepare ourselves right now; how probably is it that we—ow!”

“Naoya! What is it?” you fret upon hearing Naoya gasp, followed by a sharp hiss. “Are you ok?”

“Ye—yeah. I’m fine, it’s just… Naohime here threw one of her toys right into my eye.” He explains, looking back to the baby who was now giggling—satisfied to have pulled her father’s attention back to her. “And the little devil is quite proud of it too…”

“Oh.” You say, both amused by her antics and worried about his wellbeing. “Guess our baby needs her papa more than her mama does; I’ll leave you to it, then. I still gotta do some things over here anyways.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.” Naoya says, pushing himself up off the ground and picking Naohime. She seems to retaliate for a moment, but eventually concedes, placing her small head on the crook of his neck while tightly grasping onto his hair—she’s not going down that easily! “Ah—We’ll be here for you until then.”

“Don’t forget to send me videos of my baby! And oh, be sure to get your eye checked too…” you add. “I’ll be coming soon too so just hang in there, honey. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me and our family while I’m away. I’ll be sure to… reward you.”

“You know you don’t have to, little mochi; but I won’t reject you.” He teases, you blush. “I can’t wait for the moment I’ll have you back in my arms.”

“Just wait for me. I love you so much, Naoya.”

“I love you too, princess.”

“Mnnah!” Naohime adds, almost as if she were bidding her farewells to you—or perhaps demanding her papa’s attention once more; either way, the two share another laugh before eventually hanging up, with Naoya returning to his baby and the demands she must have satisfied.

“Now, now, I’m here. What is it that you want, little peanut?”

Naohime blows a raspberry, making Naoya smirk.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Pa—pa!”

“Ah, so you do understand what I say? You just decide to ignore me, isn’t it?”

Naohime laugh once more.

A spoiled little princess, but he wouldn’t want her any other way.

🥺 while the most unruly of them all, she still has a special place in my heart. She's the kid that parents go far more easy on because she's the youngest and the parents are also older too lol. Still, I like to think that by the power of love (lol) she didn't turn out that bad :>

Anyways, thank you so much for sharing this with me. I hope you enjoyed this small thing I wrote! Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️

[twoidiotwriters1]

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Great end of chapter if I do say so myself -Danny Words: 2,167 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Trouble' -by Imagine Dragons

II: No! Not My Irrepressible Thoughts of Death!

"She really named her place Hebe Jeebies?"

"Afraid so."

"And how did you know about this place?"

"They have great licorice ropes," Grover explains. "You can't pass by without smelling them!"

"It's a candy store, then?" Annabeth frowns.

"No, more like... Actually, it's easier to show you."

Ara groans, the first noise she's made since they got there. "Are we going to regret this?"

"Probably. But then again, you love your job," Percy grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her in. "C'mon, quest junkie..."

The place looks like the craziest family restaurant Ara's ever seen, though to be fair, she hasn't been to many. Her family prefers ordering a pizza and playing video games until their thumbs are sore, but she can sense the magic bouncing off the walls like an annoying buzzing in her ear.

"I get it now," Annabeth makes a face. "This place does give me the heebie-jeebies."

"You feel that too?" Ara mumbles.

"Feel what?" Percy asks.

"Like the Lotus casino," she responds. "Time feels wrong."

"I've been here a few times," Grover replies eerily. "I've never found the other end of the place."

"Okay," Percy steps back. "I agree with Birdy. I'm getting strong Lotus Casino vibes in here... like low-rent Lotus Casino, but still..."

"Nothing low-rent about this," Ara steps forward.

"It's not a trap," Grover tries to ease them. "At least, I've never had any trouble leaving. These families... they come and go. They don't seem to be stuck in time."

"Then... what's the catch?" Annabeth frowns. "There's always a catch."

"I don't know," Grover says awkwardly. "I usually just get licorice and leave. I keep a low profile."

"Hebe runs this place, right?" Ara shrugs. "Perhaps she eats little kids."

"Shut up," Percy groans. "Are we even sure she's here?"

"No, but..." Grover shrugs. "You know that feeling you get when there's a god around and you can't see them, but you kind of feel like there's a swarm of dung beetles on the back of your neck?"

"Not exactly..." Percy mumbles.

"I feel it almost every day," Ara's had enough encounters with gods to differentiate a normal state of anxiety from actual power breathing down her neck. "It itches."

"Dung beetles is oddly specific, though," Annabeth points out.

"I've got that feeling now," Grover insists. "We could ask the staff if Hebe's around. If we can find someone."

"Oh, my gods," Annabeth perks up. "Stackers. I haven't played that since..."

Ara points at another game. "It's the same we have in camp! Leo..." Her smile falters, losing her train of thought for a moment. "Uh... rigged it so we could mess with the characters—he called it idiot mode."

"It's a nostalgia trap," Percy says cleverly. "The place is selling people their own childhoods."

Annabeth hums. "That makes sense, but a lot of places sell nostalgia. It's not necessarily a bad thing..."

"Nostalgia's addictive," Ara responds promptly. "Maybe Hebe doesn't need magic to keep people here, miserable folk love wasting their lives in this sort of crap." She lets out a dry chuckle. "I know what I'll be doing after school..."

Percy places a hand on her shoulder. "Keep walking."

"Excuse me, miss?" Annabeth stops an employee.

"What?" The girl—can't be older than ten—pauses and calms down. "Sorry. The token machine is broken again, and I gotta get these tickets to... Anyway, how can I help?"

"We're looking for Hebe?" Percy says.

"If this is about a refund for a defective game—" 

"It's not."

"Or the pizza being moldy—"

"It's not. Also, yuck."

"Depends on the mold," Grover mumbles.

"We just need to speak to the goddess in charge," Annabeth explains. "It's kind of urgent."

The young girl eyes them with a frown but shrugs. "Past the diving cliff; left at the henhouse."

"Diving cliff?"

"Henhouse?"

"She'll be in the karaoke bar," Sparky—that's the name in her tag—makes a face. "Don't worry. You'll hear it."

When the girl leaves, Percy turns to his friends. "Are we really going to search out a karaoke bar... like, on purpose?"

"I love karaoke," Ara frowns. "It's fun!"

"You can duet with me on 'Shallow,'" Annabeth teases the boy.

"You don't want that," he grins.

"Oh, I don't know." Annabeth gives him a playful pinch. "Might be romantic."

Their soul lights glow and Ara gawks playfully. Grover nudges her arm. "We're just going to keep walking," he says, pulling her along.

"Hey, water," Ara points out. "If there's an emergency we can use that, Nemo."

"Gross, but yeah," he looks at the greenish water with repugnance. "Let's hope we don't have to."

"Aaand that's the henhouse," Ara scowls. "This can't be sanitary."

"Why?" Percy asks, but not in response to her comment, more like, Why would anyone put this here?

"Hebe's sacred animal," Annabeth explains to them. "Maybe we should move along."

"Those are not friendly pollos," Ara mutters, noticing the way the animals are ogling at them with dead stares. 

Hebe is easy to identify, she's the only person in there dressed like a 60's go-go girl. Everything that could go wrong goes wrong within the next thirty minutes of sitting there talking to her. She rambles about how Percy was stupid for rejecting immortality and eternal youth, scans Ara up and down, making the girl self-conscious, and when Ganymede gets mentioned, that only worsens things.

"Heroes accusing me of theft! The only thing I've ever stolen is time from the Fates so mortals could enjoy longer lives! I care nothing for that... that usurper's cup! Do you think I would want my old job back, waiting tables on Mount Olympus, when I have my own establishment right here with all the pizza, karaoke, and bumper cars I could ever desire?"

"You're right," Percy says promptly. "Of course that's silly. But maybe you know someone else who could've stolen it? Or if you'd let us look around so we can report back that it definitely isn't here—"

"ENOUGH!" Hebe starts glowing. "What did you say earlier, Percy Jackson? Getting older is part of life? Well, perhaps you should start that process over again. Maybe you'll do it right this time and learn some manners!"

It can get chaotic real fast when a goddess decides to turn everyone in your friend group into eight-year-olds. 

There's lots of clumsiness and tons of emotional immaturity. Ara starts weeping the moment she's stripped of her power. She's an anxious, weak child—and impatient as well. She's tugging Percy's hand screaming about this being all his fault, demanding to be taken back to her mommy and daddy, and it only gets worse when Sparky releases the killer chickens. 

Fifteen-year-old Ara is hard to intimidate, but baby Ara? The moment those beasts show up, she lets out a high-pitched scream and tries to scramble out of there. Annabeth and Percy have to drag her through every obstacle, and at the back of her mind she knows she should help, but Hebe took her to a time when she had no training, no blessings, and no control over her ADHD.

Ara overhears her friends talking about kidnapping chicks, but the only time they pay any attention to her is when they lock themselves inside the karaoke and Percy shoves a mic into her small hand. He squeaks out in his little boy's voice. "You're the singer—Sing!"

Ara hiccups through the song, but she manages to stay calm now that Grover and Annabeth are keeping the cabin sealed shut. The music helps her ease her nerves and soon enough Percy and Annabeth join her. "You're terrible singers," she says in a stuffy voice.

Percy and Annabeth trap her in a hug as they sway and sing louder. Ara lets out a giggle that makes her friends smile more, they hadn't heard that girlish noise in ages. It's hard to notice when someone's voice changes if you spend every day listening to them, just like it's crazy how they're all the same height and age right now. 

Ara always wondered if their relationships would've been any different had she been the same age as them, if they would've trusted her, and perhaps even supported her wish to become a daughter of Olympus. Now that they are, she realizes that no, they would've still tried to stop her, because it was never about the age. Ara was simply too much of a coward.

"Stop it! Stop it, already!" Hebe shows up again, stomping her feet to silence them.

"Oh great and extremely young Hebe!" Percy starts. "We are so sorry—"

"Especially Percy," Annabeth adds.

"I am ninety percent of the sorry!" He concedes. "Please forgive us!"

"If that song was supposed to be an apology, you should direct it to John Lennon."

"He was a jerk," Ara blurts out, then Annabeth elbows her. "But you seem to like the 60s, and we want nothing more than to appeal to you!"

"Please, grant us sanctuary from your wrathful hens!" Grover presses.

"And please return us to our proper ages!" Annabeth adds.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hebe makes a time-out sign. "First you desecrate my karaoke machine, then you barrage me with requests? Why should I return you to your former ages?"

"Because... Because you are generous and good, and also super young," Percy tries clumsily.

"We are petitioners at your altar," Annabeth replies.

"Your holiest of holy karaoke stages! Most sacred of disco boogie venues!" Silence. "Too much?" Grover sighs. "All we want is to leave here in peace, at our normal ages—so we can spread the word about the wonders and terrors of Hebe Jeebies!"

"And with a little information about the chalice of the gods, please," Percy says sweetly.

Hebe scowls at him. "There it is again. That insolence. That slander. Perhaps I did not send you far enough back into your childhood."

"Forgive him!" Annabeth squeaks. "We would never try to run out the clock on you!"

"It's true!" Percy pipes in. "Clocks are bad!"

"I don't know how to read a clock," Ara pipes in.

"You are spouting nonsense," the goddess frowns.

"Exactly, they do that a lot!" Annabeth says. "That's why you must forgive them!"

"What did I do?" Ara pouts. "I didn't get us in this trouble!"

"You matured too fast," Hebe glares at her. "What is a youthful body to a soul that can't enjoy it?"

"That's true, you're growing too fast," Percy nods in agreement.

And whose fault is that? Ara scowls. She doesn't think she's a troublemaker nowadays, the only reason she's stuck as a child is precisely because she's doing exactly what the gods ask of her. "Shut up."

"You shut up!"

Hebe stomps her tiny feet to silence them, she seems to be getting younger. "You are all so—so yucky!" She's getting even smaller than Ara. "What is happening? I don't like it!"

Ara and Percy share a confused look, then he looks at the booth behind them. "Lil' Killer!" He says. 

"A chick?" Ara crawls under the booth.

"Don't look at me like that!" Hebe squeals at the way Annabeth stares at her as if waiting for something. "You're a big dummy!"

Ara holds the chick in her small hands, squirming a little because the animal keeps trying to bite her fingers. They wait until Hebe turns into a full newborn. "What just happened?" Grover mutters.

Annabeth picks up the baby and coos. "Li'l Killer pulled juniority on Hebe. But you are so adorable!" Hebe threatens to hit Annabeth, but it's not strong enough. "Now hold on, I know you're fussy, but I'm sure you're not making an age-based complaint, are you? The chickens wouldn't like that."

Baby Hebe shuts up instantly. Ara giggles and pats the chick she's holding with her index finger.

"Great," Annabeth hums. "Then here's what I suggest. We agree that some young ages are just too young. Then we remove Li'l Killer from the room so you can age yourself back up to at least elementary school. Then you accept our apology, put us back to our normal ages, tell us whatever you know about the chalice of the gods, and we all go our separate ways. Gurgle once for yes. Poop yourself for no."

Hebe gurgles.

"Grover," the girl turns to her friend, "would you ask Li'l Killer to return to her pen, please?" Grover talks to the chick in Ara's hands and the little animal squeaks in response. Ara kisses its tiny head and then pushes it gently through the door. 

Hebe wastes no time turning back into a teenager. "You four..." she growls.

"We apologize, Great Hebe," Annabeth repeats. "And ask for sanctuary."

"And information," Percy reminds her. Annabeth nudges his side. "Please."

"You're lucky I like John Lennon," Hebe snaps her fingers and turns them back to normal. "Sit, and I will tell you what I know. But you aren't going to like it."

Ara sits and stares at her hands: supple, slim, and slightly shaky. In comparison to a few seconds ago, she feels how different she truly is from who she used to be when she was a little girl. Everything in her body is stronger and well-tuned... but what is a perfect body to a polluted soul? At the very core, Ara is still small and insecure, nothing will ever satiate the void in her chest. Nothing will change.

"You okay?" Grover nudges her shoulder. "Did Lil's killer poop on you?"

Ara looks at him, trying to brush off her thoughts. "Just checking for wrinkles."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[sapphic-woes]

no thoughts just vampire sevika draining me of my blood while i’m sitting on her lap

Since this is the second time I've been suggested vampire Sevika imma go for it...with hcs cuz I'm very tired these days :)

🦇 Vampire Sevika 🦇

In this au, Silco is a vampire drug lord that sells blood pills in high demand. They could have like major side effects or be addictive like shimmer, who knows.

The thing that's important is that they're drugs specifically for vampires and you don't know that when you begin working there.

The reason why you, a human, was hired by Silco is becuase you're great at money laundering. So good he's willing to bring you onto the team...with his right hand tasked to protect you.

Sevika isn't happy. She's already busy af and yet she has to take care of you? You're already weak amongst humans. To vampires, you're a mouse walking into a lion's den.

To you, Sevika seems ready to snap you in half at any second, however instead of you she eventually does that to someone else. Some goons are oddly interested in you to the point where it's terrifying, and when one of them tries to do something, Sevika is quick to put them in their place.

One second you're cornered and trying to escape the hands of some goon–and the next, they're gone.

You can hardly process the fight. There's not much of one anyway. With speed slightly greater than a human's, Sevika beats your assailant to a pulp before slamming them into the wall, with Sevika's arm pressed into their neck.

She nearly kills them with how long she keeps her arm there, growling out a reminder that you're Silco's before letting them go. She looks back at you, and you swear....you swear her eyes are golden before she blinks, and suddenly the cloudy grays are back to glower down at you again.

After that she prowls. You don't know how to describe it with another word. She walks behind you like she's meant to hurt you. She's rough when she pulls you away from other curious vampires, hands always dancing over your throat as she stares them down. You know there's some meaning to it all, but for the life of you, you can't figure it out.

That is, until you see her drink the blood of some woman at the Last Drop.

You had been so tired. Usually, as Sevika's orders were, you scurried back home into your apartment, shut the doors with double locks and...sprayed the outline of the door with Sevika's cologne?

You still didn't understand that last part. She made you wear her cologne all the time. If you forgot, she wouldn't even greet you in the morning.

Rather, it would be a fistful of your blouse yanked toward her. She'd deeply inhale at your neck before letting out a tsk–and then, oddly enough, she'd pull out a bottle of her own and douse you in it.

Perhaps that was why when you walked into the Last Drop at the witching hour, only to witness a usually homely bar sullied with the stench of blood, the scent of her own cologne over it all made Sevika's eyes snap to you so quickly.

"Don't come out after midnight. People are out there that you don't ever see otherwise. They walk around looking to make sure people like you never get to see the light of day again."

For once, you understood what she'd meant.

They'd reached for you, people with glowing eyes and sharp fangs, and you nearly screamed. However, before you could even let out a sound Sevika gathered you in her arms.

"The fuck are you dogs doing? Can't you tell she's mine?" Sevika's voice was a frightening snarl. She lifted you up with ease, carrying you bridal style in her arms. Her hand shifted on the back of your head, guiding your face until it nestled into her chest.

"She's here for me." The vampires in the bar laughed, and one spoke up.

"I knew you were too obsessed with her to think it was just a job." Another agreed.

"The way you've been looking at her these past days, I was worried you'd lose it and suck the poor thing dry. Almost told Silco his new ace human was gonna end up an empty blood bag soon." That earned laughter from the entire bar, and Sevika scoffed, arms tightening around you as she walked toward the door.

"Funny. If you weren't already drunk off your asses I'd beat the shit outta all of you right now–" Though you couldn't see anything, suddenly you heard footsteps and felt Sevika come to an abrupt stop, hearing a voice right in front of you both.

"Hey, she just got here! Stay, live a little. No one's gonna try and touch a human you've claimed anyway." The way they talked, as if they weren't humans themselves, made you shudder.

But they aren't. They never were. The thought had you heart hammering away, and the thick arms around you pressed you closer.

"Clearly, she's not used to the night life yet. Sweet girl missed me so bad she dared to venture out..." You squeaked when fangs nipped at your ears, Sevika's breath like ice against your skin. "and at this rate, her heart might give out. Humans can do that you know. Die of fright. So unless you want to explain to Silco why you let that happen..."

"O-okay! Fine! Fucking hell you're still as possesive as ever, I know you just don't want to have anyone else to try her blood." Sevika snorted, and you felt the body you clung to move as she strode out the door.

"Of course I don't. Why would I ever share what's mine?"

She was pissed, to say the least.

Sevika would have thrown you onto the bed if she thought she wouldn't accidentally kill you. (She thinks humans are quite brittle.)

Instead she merely dropped you onto it, watching you scramble back with dark amusement.

She doesn't say much, just lights her cigar. She watches you as she takes a drag a few times, eyebrows furrowed. It's uncanny silence for what feels like eternity until she speaks.

"Now, everyone knows that you know, and the only way everyone's gonna leave you alone is if they think you belong to me. Do you understand?" You quickly nodded, shrinking back when Sevika came forward. She towers over you and looks you head to toe. The tantalizing gaze makes you tremble, and that makes her lips curl around her cigar. Another drag, another puff of smoke. The heavy scent of jasmine spice lingers.

She bites you before you can even blink.

There's no ceremony. Not slow easing into it. One second Sevika is standing, and the next her teeth are buried into your throat, and her hands are holding your arms down to keep you from squirming, and she's taking deep, draining gulps that feel like fire at your throat. You can't breathe, you can't think, you just want to cry and moan and scream at the same time. The pain is as ruthless as it is sweet, and it consumes you.

Sevika pulls away after having more than enough of her fill, well aware you'll be faint for days. She thinks it worth it with the sight of your teary eyes and bloody neck, the clear outline of her bite visible for any vampire to see. She's frazzled herself, eyes gleaming gold as she huffs down at you.

"You don't taste too bad...for an accountant."

[alleycat-arcade]

Temperance's Tinsel Tango: Day Three

You find yourself sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the pile of presents, a sweet snowy treat in a bowl snugly set in your lap. Taking the last bite, you set the bowl aside and grab the present labelled "Dec. 15th".

Rather than a box this time, its a gift bag stuffed full of golden tissue paper. A part of you wonders if its a custom-made one, based on the mischievous look black cat in a Santa hat on the front. Disregarding the thought, you carefully set aside the mound of tissue paper and pull out the object incased inside. Its oddly small but you recognize it from the texture even before you remove it from the bag. Its an...

...ornament of a pair of Figure Skates. Have you even gone skating before?

Figure Skating/Don't Let Go! (Obey Me! Mammon x Gn! Reader)

Content Warnings: Just some sweet fluffy content. "my mans mammon fall on him ass"i forgot to edit the cw before posting dojsafhuiaohuosf

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

When you'd asked the Second Born to accompany you to an event in the Human World, he felt as if his heart skipped a good handful of beats. Mammon did his best to smother his obvious blush with the back of his hand, a while confidently prattling on about his extraordinary abilities in whatever field you were speaking about. It was only after you had agreed on a day and time and already left did what he'd just agreed to set in. Though you hadn't exactly said what the two of you had been doing, you'd asked him about his balance oddly enough.

Balance was not really something the Avatar of Greed really kept track of. He knew his own personal strengths, especially his speed, but the thought of whether or not he could balance wasn't something he ever worried about. Writing it off as a miniscule detail, he instead focused on things he could do in the Human World to impress you. Perhaps even potentially working up enough confidence to ask you on an actual date.

As it turns out, Mammon should've been a bit more concerned with his balance.

He had not even made it a third step onto the ice before he had fallen flat on his behind, while you had gracefully begun to glide into the rink. When you turned around to check on him, you began to think that the ice rink might melt with how flushed his face was. You held yourself back from laughing at the scene before you, though you found it quite hard. One of the strongest demons in the Devildom was now floundering to get up off the slick ground, with all the grace of a newborn deer.

Deciding to put an end to his suffering, you skated back to his side and lead him towards the railing. You did have to take a step back once he gripped onto the railing in order to avoid the blades of his skates that swung in the air. Once he got his footing, he slowly stood up on shaky knees, hands clinging onto the railing for dear life. "So, you're the 'Master of Balancing Acts', Mammon?" You teased, an amused expression across your face. He turn to glare at you, but the smoldering look was hard to take seriously when the person giving it to you was shaking like a leaf. "Sh-shaddup! I was just caught off guard is all! 'Cause, uhm... 'cause the gravity in the Human World is different than the Devildom! That's why I'm unsteady!" He lied on the spot.

After releasing a soft chuckle from your lips and a shake of your head, you made your way to stand beside him. "Here Mams, let me help you." You reached your arms towards him, trying to get him away from the wall and back onto the ice. Mammon hesitated for a moment, but suddenly latched onto your upper arms. At the sudden change in your own center of balance, you began to become unsteady. Rather than allowing yourself to fall, you moved back towards the wall as you were used to doing. In the process, you failed to remember exactly what had been latched to your front and thrown off your balance in the first place, and had now pressed the demon up against the glass of the rink's barrier.

If his face had been red before from just being embarrassed, words known failed to describe this quantum level of crimson heat. You would think he'd begun to turn to stone with how stiff he was and his iron grip on your arms. The only reminders that he wasn't a statue were his darting eyes and sputtering warm breaths that ghosted across your face.

Realizing the compromising position you had put him in, you couldn't help but be taken over by the urge to tease him more than you had already. You had hoped to confess to him today after some skating and sightseeing, but you decided to try and test the waters now while you had him off-guard.

Leaning into the sort of odd embrace, you pulled Mammon in close enough to allow you to be right next to his ear. "Mammon, you..." His breath hitched at your voice, squirming in your arms.

"You really don't know a thing about figure skating, do you?"

"..."

He began to thrash in your grip angrily, sputtering out whatever he could think of. In between the "Great Mammon"s, "damn human"s, and whatever other excuses or insults, you simply laughed until tears filled the corners of your eyes. You failed to notice how he seemed to calm down at the sound of your laughter, his complaints near silent when you whispered to yourself.

"You're adorable."

"I'm what?"

[malghra]

I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you

Darklina Week Day 4: Fairy Tales: Darklina Red Riding Hood / Company of Wolves AU

Title from Talyor Swift's So it goes, Rating: M

Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and Ana Kuya was worried about her, so she decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. On her way there, Alina meets a stranger...

Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and the staff at Duke Keramsov's household were worried about her, so it was decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. The fastest way to get there was through the forest, but Ana Kuya had warned Alina that the woods were dangerous and that she should never stray from the path.

She'd nodded eagerly, mostly to avoid one of Ana Kuya's lectures on acts of kindness and the importance of community, but behind her back Alina had sulked and pouted. It was one of the first sunny days of the year and she'd wanted to spend it in the meadow with Mal. But now she'd have to spend her day struggling through the forest with a heavy basket.

She took her red shawl from the hook on the door, wrapping it around her shoulders, and decided to go and find Mal anyway. He would go with her if she asked.

They were almost outside the front gate, when they heard Ana Kuya call out to them. "Malyen Oretsev, where do you think you're going?"

They exchanged a look and Alina bit her lip. Should they try to make a run for it? Unfortunately, Ana Kuya was closer than they'd thought.

Mal turned around and answered her question innocently. "I'm going with Alina to bring this basket to Old Baghra."

"And did I tell you to do this?" she asked in exasperation. "You need to stay here."

"But you said the woods aren't safe!" Alina objected. "Mal should come with me, to protect me!"

That earned her an ear boxing, and Mal was sent away to help the young men as they started repairs on the house after the long winter.

By the time Alina entered the forest, Ana Kuya's warnings had already slipped to the back of her mind.

Winter had passed and now that spring was reigning, the woods had never looked more beautiful. The trees were blooming, flower springing up along the path, and the moss and ferns covering the forest floor and scattered rocks were the green of emeralds, drops of dew that had not yet disappeared making them sparkle like the gems they resembled in the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

She took in the enchantment of it all with wide eyes and quickly forgot about the dangers that might be lurking. The trees and brushes were alive with animals awaking after the long lull of winter and the song of birds was filling both the forest and Alina's heart with joy. She hadn't gotten far when she could no longer resist joining them in their singing.

She sang as one would only sing when they are alone, so as was bound to happen, she soon discovered she was not alone at all. The man appeared from a gap between the trees some three feet ahead of her, stopping her in her tracks.

He stood there looking at her, arms loosely crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the left. He was tall and slender, with a shock of dark hair and dressed in black wool and leathers. Alina closed her mouth, realizing she was staring at him. "Good day to you, sir," she called out.

"And good day to you, milaya," he answered as he started strolling over to her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she tried to remember what Ana Kuya had said about strange men.

"Please, zolotse, do not stop your singing on my behalf, I was quite enjoying it," he told her, holding her gaze.

His words pleased her, but she could feel heat flushing her cheeks. He blinked slowly, licking his lips and Alina's heart sped up inside her chest.

"May I walk with you for a spell?" he asked, his slate grey eyes open and kind.

Despite herself, she nodded and clutched the basket she was carrying a little closer to her body.

They walked in silence for a while, until he asked, "What's your name, milashka?"

"Alina," she answered breathlessly.

"Alina," he repeated, as if trying to taste it on his tongue, and the way his lips curled around her name sent a shiver down her spine.

"I am Aleksander," he added with a smile which didn't really look like a smile all that much, even if she couldn't decide why.

She glanced over at his face as they walked. He had a sharp and smug look about him, a bit dour even perhaps, she mused, but when he met her eyes or offered her that odd smile, something fluttered deep inside her stomach.

"What do you have inside that basket of yours?" Aleksander asked.

"Food and kvas for Old Baghra. She lives near the bridge three miles south of the creek," she answered him.

For a brief moment, Alina could have sworn that a shadow passed over his face, but then he exclaimed,"But you're taking the long way!" his eyes wide and innocent.

"Of course not," she countered with a smile. "The fastest way is through the woods."

"Yes," he agreed, "It is. Through the woods, but you are following the path."

"Ana Kuya told me not to stray from the path," she mumbled, hating how silly she must sound to him.

He offered her a half-smile. "Ah, you're a good girl, aren't you? I bet you do every little thing your mother tells you to do, now don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, her face flushing with anger this time, and he barked out a laugh.

"Ana Kuya is not my mother!" she spat at him. "I'm an orphan!"

"Ah, I see," he muttered matter-of-factly, and she was oddly grateful for the lack of pity in his voice and eyes.

They walked in silence, until Aleksander muttered her name again, and Alina automatically glanced up at him.

"Why exactly did Ana Kuya tell you not to stray from the path?" he asked her, head cocked to the side again.

"I..." she opened and closed her mouth. "She said it was dangerous," she told him, picking up her pace.

He easily kept up with her. "But why?" he wanted to know.

She bit her lip. She wasn't about to admit that she didn't know why. "It's better if we stay on the path."

He raised an eyebrow. "We? You can stay on the path if you like, lapushka, but I'll bet you I can get there faster than you can."

Her hands tightened on the handle of the basket. She nodded.

"Very well," he said. "Of course, I'll need a prize if I win the bet, wouldn't you agree?"

He held her gaze, but Alina didn't look away.

"What kind of prize?" she breathed, her voice betraying her.

"How about a kiss?" he asked.

Her heart started hammering again, closing up her throat and making it impossible to speak as her eyes dropped to his full lips. She glanced up to meet his eyes and nodded.

"Let me take your basket," he offered.

She handed it to him and then watched him disappear between the trees. She began walking faster, determined to win the bet. A kiss, she thought as her feet carried her down the path. She'd never been kissed before, but she tried to imagine it. She wondered if his lips would feel as soft as they looked.

Perhaps she wouldn't mind losing the bet. Perhaps she wouldn't mind being kissed by this odd but exciting stranger. She realized she'd slowed down again and looked around, taking in her surroundings. To her left, there was a small clearing between the trees which was filled with blue flowers.

Perhaps she wouldn't mind making sure that he won the bet. Perhaps it would be for the best if she didn't take any chances. She abandoned the path and walked into the clearing to pick some flowers and weave them into a crown. That would give him enough of a headstart to get there first.

Alina ended up lingering there for a longer time than she'd intended, singing under her breath and picking all of the prettiest flowers, but eventually she'd made her way to Old Baghra's cottage. It was already getting dark and the wind filled the evening with a menacing chill, but Alina didn't shiver, she had her shawl to keep her warm.

There was no sign of the stranger called Aleksander, so she knocked on the door and called out: "Baghra, it's Alina!"

No answer came.

"Baghra," she repeated a little louder than the first time. She tried knocking on the door again and slowly, it creaked open. As soon as she stepped inside, the warm and dusty, musky air inside filled her nostrils, making her sneeze and cough. A clattering noise came from the far side of the room.

Old Baghra was nowhere to be seen, but perched on the bed in the corner of the hut was her dark stranger.

Suddenly he was on his feet and the door clicked shut. She turned around to find him standing close to her, his eyes glowing in the dusk. It was quiet inside, except for the rattling still coming from the corner of the room.

"What big eyes you have," she whispered, clutching the ends of her shawl around her shoulders.

"All the better to see you with, Alina," he replied.

She was about to turn around to examine the annoying clunking noise she kept hearing, when a chorus of howls rose up all around the hut. She hissed, startled by the sound.

"Those are my brothers," the wolf told her.

She turned to look out the window, but it was too dark to see. "It's getting really cold outside," she whispered. He was standing right behind her, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body.

She whirled around, clutching his forearms to steady herself. "What big arms you have," she muttered.

He leaned in until his nose was almost touching hers. "All the better to hold you with," he said.

She averted her eyes, her breath catching in her throat, and she licked her lips as her eyes fell on his mouth. She remembered she'd promised him a kiss. She angled her face up until she could press her lips to his.

Outside the wolves started howling again. It sounds like a song, she thought, a joyous song.

His lips parted under her attention and she pulled his soft bottom lip between her own. She felt something wet and warm nudge her lip.

"Your prize," she explained as she pulled away.

He smiled that odd smile, his teeth gleaming in the dark.

"What big teeth you have," she whispered.

His smile grew wider, showing even more of his teeth. "All the better to eat you with, lapushka."

In the corner where the bed stood, the clamouring resumed.

"Did you eat Old Baghra?" Alina asked.

He nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows.

She didn't know how to feel about that. "She was old and ugly and smelly. I bet she didn't taste very nice," she piped up.

"Not really, no," he admitted, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. "But you are young and pretty and you smell like flowers. I bet you'd taste sweet."

She giggled and objected, "I'm not a piece of meat."

He chuckled softly. "Show me, Alinushka."

She unwrapped her shawl and let it drop to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her as her fingers unlaced the bodice of her dress. He sucked in a sharp breath as it slid down her body and pooled at her feet. After that she removed her chemise and let it join the heap at her feet.

His eyes followed her as she walked to the bed and lay down on it, waiting for him to follow.

He started undressing and she bit her lip as her mesmerized eyes drank in his body. But when his last piece of clothing hit the floor, the man was gone and an enormous black wolf with glowing red eyes was standing there instead.

The wolf leapt up on the bed and even though Alina's heart was pounding inside her chest, she found that she was not afraid. The wolf lay down next to her, placing its huge head in her lap, and whined softly.

She patted its ears and neck and the wolf nuzzled at her belly and her maidenhair. Suddenly, instead of black fur, she was clasping thick strands of dark hair between her fingers. The wolf was a man again.

He pushed her thighs apart and pressed his lips to her most intimate place. His warm, wet tongue nudged her lower lips, slipping in between them.

"Yes, you taste sweet, lapushka," Aleksander told her in a rough voice. His eyes were dark and ravenous, but they didn't scare her.

"Kiss me," she begged him, so he did.

Alina had been warned to stay away from dark strangers, and she had been told that only wicked girls let dangerous men take their precious maidenheads, but she gave hers up willingly and called her dark wolf husband. The blood staining the sheets was as bright as her pretty red shawl, but it didn't disturb her as she slept peacefully under a starless sky, safely wrapped up in the embrace of his tender darkness.

[darkfairy-tales]

Insanity - Chapter 1

Description: She was an angel who came across the devil himself and her existence drove him insane.

Pairing: Sangyeon x Reader

Genre: Mafia au

Warning: Mentions of blood. Swearing.

"Shouldn't have stayed long! Shouldn't have helped Minsu. Should have gone home earlier. God why is it so dark." You ranted to yourself as you closed down the cafe and looked up at the sky. The moon was mostly covered by some cloud and only few little stars were there. You sighed. The lack of moonlight and the lack of proper lightning on the streets made everything so creepy. On top of that it was really late for you. You were jalf glad that you didn't stayed with your parents. Oh they would have given you a whole speech on how dangerous it is if you ever got back home to them late at night. The cafe you worked at was owned by Minsu's family. She was your bestfriend. She was usually the one who closed down the shop at the end of the day which was usually at around 10:30pm. For her it was nothing as her house was just a block away. But your house was a little far. She had a date tonight and had literally begged you to close down for her for the night. You had agreed even though you were a little hesitant. You weren't a fan of staying out till late. Putting the keys inside your bag and your phone in your hand you started walking down the streets. Your breath hitching everytime you heard some sort of noise. You completely stilled in front of an narrow alleyway which was dark when you heard a hush voice. "Fuck fuck fuck." You heard someone curse with a groan in a hush voice. You gulped willing yourself to not look at the dark. You walked forwards gripping your phone.

'What if it is someone who needs my help? What if someone is in dire need of help and if I just walk away they might get hurt and fuck it would be my fault.' You thought to yourself. "Oh screw this!" You groaned stomping your foot on the concrete. You turned back and walked inside the dark alley turning the torch of your phone on using it as the source of light to guide you. "H-Hello! Is anyone here?" You called out shivering. You looked at each side to see who it was. You almost stopped breathing when your eyes fell on a guy. He was... handsome. Sharp features. And you would have commented on it if it weren't for the fact that the guy was literally a stranger, in a dark alley with you and had what seemed like a gun shot wound with blood dripping out. You squeaked. 'Gunshot wound!' you screamed internally. The guy had also looked up at you. He looked surprised and alarmed. "Who the fuck are you?" The guy literally snarled. You stepped back a little. You turned around planning to run away but stopped. "Fuck I can't leave you here." You mumbled. You walked up towards the guy. "Mr. uh sh-should I call an ambulance. Oh my god shit you are... you are loosing too much blood." You rambled. "Don't fucking dare call an ambulance. I can't go to hospital or shit." He growled. "What do I do then! You can't die." You hissed. He looks at you oddly. "Why do you care?" He asked narrowing his eyes at you. "I can't.. I can't just leave someone bleeding out here like this! I am not cruel enough to do that. And if you died here I will be guilty till the day I die." You deadpanned.

"You need medical help. You are l-loosing too much blood Mr." You said. "I said I can't go to hospital." He hissed. You sighed as you took off your bag, opening it. Your pulled out your scarf. 'I am sorry dear beautiful scarf.' "Put your hands away." You said. "What are you trying to do?" He asked not moving his hands at all. "Help. So that you don't die." You said as you pulled his hands away from the wound. You used your scarf to press against the wound. Looking down at the wound seriously. "I am Y/N." You said shortly. You weren't sure why you felt the need to introduce yourself but you did. "Sangyeon. I guess you at least deserve to know my name." He says cockily making you click your tongue. "Press it against the wound. Don't let yourself bleed out too much." You said and he followed your instruction. "Is there anyone you can call? Like anyone who can help you." You asked as you stood in front of him. He smirks looking right into your eyes. "Pretty girls like you shouldn't run after me." He says in a low voice. He couldn't believe how stubborn you were. He sat leaning against the dirty wall of the alley, a gunshot wound on his side.

If it was someone else they would have ran away or called police. But you. You were different. You didn't even knew him yet you were so willing to help him. Sangyeon wasn't so sure if you were too kind for your own good or just plain stupid. You were just like an innocent angel while he was a devil. You weren't supposed to be here. And totally not supposed to try help him. "Give me your phone." He says. You were hesitant but still handed it to him. You saw him dial a number and tap 'call' button. "Sunwoo. Listen. Come to where I am. Yes I am fine! Well as fine as a person who has been shot is." Sangyeon grumbled. He pauses as he listens closesly whatever the other man was saying. He looked up at you making you look away feeling a little shy. "Come fast. I don't know if they are still after me." He says pulling away the phone and ending the call. "You realize you didn't tell the guy where you are." You sassed. "They can track me. Don't worry your pretty little head." He says chuckling. "Are you... really fine?" You asked a bit concerned noticing how he seem to have gotten a bit pale. "I will be fine sweetheart. But I think you should run away at the moment. My men are coming and I don't think they would really appreciate your presence." Sangyeon says.

You bit your lips feeling hesitant but also dying to go home. There were blood on your hand and you were desperate to wash it away. "Okay fine I will... I will go. Give me my phone." You says putting your hands out. "I can't. I have to keep it with myself. My men are going to be tracking your phone to find me so I need it. I will give it back to you soon." He says. You look at him eith your mouths open. "B-but my phone-" You stuttered but stopped. "No can do sweet heart. Now now run. You should go fast." He says with a smirk. You weren't sure if your heart was beating so fast because you were scared or because of the fact that this sangyeon guy, whatever he was, was so so charming and not to forget beautiful. "Take care." It's the last words you say as you gripped your bag, turning around and walking out of the alley. You literally ran towards your house. Shortly after a while you reached there. You huffed as you tried to take deep breathes in feeling the lack of oxygen with how fast you ran and how choked up you felt. You unlocked the door, your hands shaking while doing so. You carefully walked inside the house and into your room. You went to the bathroom directly. "W-why the hell this doesn't go away fast!" You whisper yelled as you rinsed your hands under the water wiping the blood away. After rinsing away all the blood carefully you washed your face and changed into your PJs, flopping down on the bed immediately. Too tired. You mind was a mess. Your heart was still beating fast. That night you dreamed of guns, blood and a certain guy names Sangyeon.

[Next Day]

The next day you woke up early and got ready to to the cafe to open it as the key was with you. Minsu comes to the cafe a few minutes after you had opened up the cafe and were setting up some things. "Y/N!!! I had such an amazing night! Younghoon is such a damn nice guy! He asked for a second date and I agreed. And what the hell! Why did you pick up my calls! I kept calling you last night. Because I wanted to thank you again and also make sure you were okay." Minsu rambles. You gulp. "U-Uh I lost my phone yesterday on my way back to home. Tried to find but I couldn't. Maybe someone took it." You lied. Minsu gasped. "You need to get a new one then! I mean without phone how can we even keep in touch with each other." She says. You chuckled at her. "Yes yes I will. For now let's finish setting up everything. Customers are going to start coming in." You said as you walked at the back to prepare a drink for you and Minsu.

'I hope he is fine.' You found yourself thinking about Sangyeon while making the drink. "Aish why am I even thinking about him?" You asked yourself. "Him? Who is this 'him' huh? A boyfriend perhaps?" Minsu says smiling sheepishly as she approached you. You alnost choked on air at her words. "No one! I was talking about... about my idols! Kai hurt his foot again and I am worried and I keep thinking about him!" You blurted out an excuse. Before Minsu could ask more there was a sound of bells jingling as a customer entered and you were thankful as it stopped Minsu from asking something more. She walks out to greet the customer, leaving you again. You just couldn't tell Minsu about the guy from last night. She will freak out and might end up calling police for all you knew. You sighed to yourself looking outside to see another customer walk in. "It's gonna be a long day~" You mumbled to yourself as you went out to take orders. Hopefully you wouldn't be worrying and thinking about the Sangyeon guy the whole day.

Trailer || Next Chapter

Hello everyone! I am so sorry it took so much time to update this! But yayy my exan finally ended and I can finally post more now! I hope you enjoyed reading this. Don't forget to like and reblog! I will try to post as fast as I can again!

Love you all~ Buiii ♪ ♬ ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ ♬ ♪ ❤❤

[masseffecthoe]

Forbidden starfruit

Chapter 2/5

Summary: Next day bliss.

Warnings: Wetting his Whistle, Taking a trip to pound town, but seriously nsfw

< Chapter 1

Y/N woke up Kylo Ren's annoying distorted voice commanding her to return to base. The sun was gently shining through the round window making the covers warm and nice, but her lover was missing from bed. She stretched her limbs still feeling the remnant of the afterglow, gaze searching for the man in question. Poe was standing with his back towards her, pants already on. Bummer, she was hoping for a lazy morning in bed, Kylo could wait. It had been so long since she felt such chemistry with someone and she didn't know when or if she'd see him again. She smiled, eyes tracing the muscles on his back, his shoulders tense. She had a few ideas on how to relax him.

"Come back t-" He spun around so quickly she actually flinched out of reflex, mind already grasping for the Force. His words were sharp and loud. Not how she imagined the morning would be going.

"You're with the First Order!" Her heart sank at the tone in his voice. She hadn't kept it from him intentionally, it was just not a very good conversation starter... or first impression for that matter. But she gathered now that maybe it hadn't been such a good idea this time around. He looked devastated, eyes blown out in shock. Had he lost someone to the First Order? It was not impossible with the rate they were killing people left and right.

"Yeah, I was hoping it wouldn't be a big deal..." Most people were afraid when they found out, but Poe seemed furious, his fists tight around the fabric of his T-shirt, nostrils flaring with every breath.

"Wouldn't be... is this some kind of game to you??" He was shouting now, took a step forward, but backed away immediately, then just paced to the other side of the room, eyes never leaving her like she'd pounce on him at any moment. Well, she wanted to pounce on him, maybe ride his 'blaster' for a while, but he was making such a fuss about it it was ruining her mood.

"What? N-"

"Was this the trap all along??" Constantly interrupting her was not helping his case either. "No, it can't be, that monster said you dealt with the traitor." Poe’s eyes lit up, mouth hanging, and she had to suppress the sigh and eyeroll combo. "You... the informant..." She wasn't sure if his little ramble was meant to be said out loud, but it gave her the insight she needed. She pinched the bridge of her nose - the morning was definitely not going the way she hoped now.

"You're with the Resistance. Of course." It was just her luck if she was being honest with herself. For how much she valued her power and independence, shit rarely actually went her way. Why couldn't have Poe been just a random freighter pilot like he said? Maybe would have even agreed to join the First Order with her, the pay was good for transport services... It hit her too a moment later, wide eyes fixing on his handsome face. "Well fuck... Poe! As in star Resistance pilot Poe Dameron?" She took his silence as answer enough, her laughter filling in the small space. What were the odds? She couldn't help the flirty line as she eyed the half naked man up and down once more, seeing him in an entirely new light. "The stories don't do you justice."

"Stop it!" He recoiled so fast it only made her smile grow. She wondered what was going on in his head. He didn't look scared, maybe just surprised and perhaps just a little bit disappointed, like she was. But it was good news, they were surely going to meet again, even if they'd have to keep their trysts a secret. At the end of they day they were both just two adults having some fun.

"Look, we don't have to make this awkward."

"You're crazy."

She slipped out of bed, the sheet covering her body falling and she stood naked a few paces away from him. The soft morning light beamed around her from behind like a halo. He was playing tough, but his traitorous body flinched when she drew closer, his eyes straining to stay on her face. He still wanted her, but hated it. She was going to make this hard for him. Y/n placed her hand on his cheek and traced it slowly to the back of his neck pulling him to her, so close her breath sent chills on his skin.

"I may as well be, but remind me who's head was buried between my legs last night?"

"It was a mistake." His voice was low, his defenses slipping.

"But it felt so good!" She let out the last words in little gasps, lips pressing gently over his jaw, following down his neck and over this collarbone, greedy fingers traveling all over his abs and sides before tugging at his pants. He sucked in a breath, hands clasping around her arms in protest, but didn't push her away. It was kind of cute, his internal struggle so obvious on his face. "One last time can't hurt anybody."

Her hands worked painfully slow at his pants, lips barely breaking contact with his skin as she nipped and kissed her way down his toned chest. Fabric out of the way, she stroke his hardening member, a gruff moan escaping the pilot. She felt his fingers flex around her arms, loosening right before the grip was back in full force. The battle between his mind and his dick was exhilarating, never had she wanted to make a man submit so much, let her have her way with him. It was a win-win scenario anyway, why resist at all?

She was in a weird position, halfway to crouching, just as far as his hold allowed her. Her hand cupped his balls, teeth nipping at the skin just below his left pec and his resolve crumbled, head rolling backwards. She wasted no time, slipping through his fingers and kneeling before him. She gave his now throbbing cock a lick from base to tip, his hands wrapping in her hair. She thought he might try to pull her away, but he gathered her hair with gentle strokes in a loose ponytail, prying the loose strands from her face. There eyes met and she knew she had him, flustered cheeks and brows furrowed, mouth gasping for air, watching her expectantly. She gave his dick a few more cheeky licks before taking it all in, throat relaxed and eyes never leaving his.

Cheeks hollowed, she sucked on it like she knew best, one hand massaging his balls, the other firmly pressed to the back of his thigh, nails pressing in the taunt muscles. He was panting, gaze burning with lust, hips buckling ever so slightly when she pressed her tongue along his shaft. He was breathtaking, a parallel to the night before when he had her pressed against the door, his mouth on her core. The memory of his lips on her and the sight of him ignited her from within, her hand traveling to rub her aching clit.

She let his dick out of her mouth with a pop and lowered her eyes to admire him in his full glory, but before she knew it he was pulling her in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist for support. His eyes met hers again, his pupils blown and breath ragged, but she couldn't focus for long and his thick member stroke against her dripping folds. A moan escaped her lips, her head falling back as he shoved his dick inside her roughly. His head fell on the same spot from the previous night, on the crook of her neck, and sucked on the still tender flesh. He pressed her against the wall, adjusting his grip on her thigs and pulled back until just the tip was still inside her, only to push in with renewed vigor. The pace quickened, turning into a heavy rhythm, so different and yet the same. It was still lustful, she could still feel the desire, the spark between them, but also his anger. Her arms circled around his neck, one hand fisting into his messy hair. He groaned on her skin, biting her shoulder, the pain mixing in with the pleasure. She thought she forgot to breath for a moment, his dick hitting that sweet spot one last time before the rapture came over her like a wave, radiating from her core, every nerve in her body sparking to life in its wake. She was vaguely aware of his arms tightening around her as his last thrusts became uneven.

They stayed like that for a while catching their breaths, his dick still inside and head still hiding on her shoulder, skin against skin sweaty and hot. Her eyes fell on his mouth when he finally pulled away. He had such perfect lips. She untangled her fingers from his hair, nails scraping gently. She caressed his cheek, thumb tracing his lips, moist and swollen. He almost leaned into her touch. Almost.

She smiled, but she felt it didn't quite reach her eyes, and untangled herself from him. They dressed in silence, Y/N sighing a few times. No sexy morning shower together then. She cleaned herself the best she could, but she'd still need to sneak in the bath before her training with Kylo. She stole glanced at the pilot, admiring his form, the way his muscles flexed when he pulled the T-shirt over his head. The thought of him in his X-wing, orange jumpsuit fully zipped open, cock standing in full attention. What a sight that would be! She sighed again and took her long hooded coat out of the drawer and wrapped herself in it. She saw him watching her from the corner or her eye as she swiftly clasped her lightsaber belt, the black leather hanging oddly on the satin dress beneath. She took the holopad and few other possessions and turned towards Poe, mustering a smile. His eyes were glued to the First Order badge on her cape's shoulder. Why was he making shit so awkward?

"Well, until next time, fly boy." She cringed bit at her own words, the thought of meeting him during a battle somewhere flashing in her mind. He grabbed her by the arm as she went to pass him by, his grip firm but not constricting. His gaze was piercing, as if he wanted to see inside her soul. Cute, but it didn't work quite like that. Mind reading was a more complex art.

"Did you kill him?" Her brows furrowed, chin lifting in defiance. Was everyone in the Resistance so naïve?

"If you mean the traitor then of course." His face fell at her answer, but she felt her blood boil. She had half a mind to rip him a new one, who did he think he was? Self righteous bastard! She smiled instead a dark little smirk and added with more venom than she intended. "Let's not ruin a perfect morning." She ripped herself from his hold with ease and rushed out of the room. Anger did not look good on her, it was one of the emotions she did not particularly enjoy. She took a little detour both to calm herself down and to make sure she wasn't followed. The Resistance had that annoying habit of finding itself where it shouldn't.

Tali was waiting for her on the ship. It was jut a bit smaller than Kylo's command shuttle, his ego always pushing to prove he was above her. But that was Snoke's plan, wasn't it? To pit them against one another until he'd eventually snap and try to kill her. She hoped he wouldn't, but lately she was not so sure.

"Sooooooo, how was it?" The other woman's excitement died down when she saw her face. "That bad, huh?" Tali was a sweetheart, clearly not cut out for the life of constant murder and backstabbing, born in a line of ex-empire followers and pushed into the grips of the First Order by her family. For the glory of the former Empire! Y/N imagined they would shout a speech even Hux would be proud of. The less she knew, the safer she'd be, even if it unfortunately meant Y/N could not vent to her friend too much about Poe.

"Eh, he got all squeamish when he found out I was First Order."

"I'm sorry."

"Sex was great though." She giggled, the sound making Y/N smile as well.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, but Commander Ren is, um, angry." Ah, poor baby was throwing a temper tantrum again. It was sad how se seemed to want her attention and her demise all at once.

"We should get going then..."

One jump into hyperspace and a quick shower later, Y/N made her way into the training room. She had her full uniform on, the mix of leather and soft fabric like a second skin, but she kept the helmet under her arm. Kylo was already in the center of the ring, oozing wrath like some sith lord in the legends of old. It was goin to be an intend training session.

"You're late."

"Hhhm... Hutts are ugly." He stared at her like she had grown a second head. "I thought we were stating random truths." He ignored her quip and stalked closer to her, fidgeting with the lightsaber in his hand.

"What took you so long?"

"I took a little time off for a night of drinks and debauchery. You should try it once in a while, great stress reliever." He snarled, the crackling noise of his weapon his only reply.

They clashed, red against red, his saber frizzling, hers smooth. She had to steer clear of his cross-guard, burning angrily like the rest of his sword, but hers was also dangerous, a circle of sharp, unforgiving metal. He charged at her in a frenzy, each strike less coordinate, desperate. She parried and dodged, always meeting him halfway, but never pushing back. He was a raging inferno, she was a leaf in the wind. Something was clearly eating at him and she doubted it had much to do with her. What had Snoke gotten into his head now? One of his swings came awfully close to her face, the heath from the lightsaber pinching at her cheek. Would he really do it? Strike her?

She was growing tired of just stepping out of the way, but he did not show any signs of slowing down. If anything, he was was becoming more erratic, his moves harder to predict. He jabbed at her, shouting now, seething. But he'd never actually hit her... would he?

She saw a small opening, a chance to strike back and she took it before she could think twice, her muscles tiring and aching for a break. His eyes widened, but before her lightsaber got even remotely close, she felt the familiar grip of the Force around her limbs, pinning her to the spot. She could have fought against it, but the man before her seemed to cool down, if only just barely. His lightsaber was still on, it's jagged pattern casting dancing shadows on his clothes.

"How are you better when you're not even trying?" He freed her from his hold, lightsaber back on his belt, and she in turn released a shaky breath.

"Oh, I am trying not to get stabbed, you can get pretty scary. I'm actually not entirely convinced you wouldn't cut me down if you had the chance... but I'm just not taking it so seriously."

"Not taking what seriously?"

"The First Order, Snoke, the sith code, any of it."

"But you're training to be sith." He was looking at her again with that same expression, somewhere between irate and impressed, curious yet exasperated. She was sith, but the code spoke to her in different ways.

"If 'there is only passion' shouldn't we enjoy life a little more? It says nothing about being miserable and angry all the time. Or following the orders of a wrinkled ballsack..." He actually chuckled and she considered it a small victory so she went on, inching closer to him. "'Through victory my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free.' Do you feel free, Kylo Ren?"

"I've never felt so lost." She placed her hand on his shoulder. She remembered him when they were younger, in Luke's jedi camp. He seemed happy then, she thought he'd make a great jedi one day, worried even that he'd be the one to chase her down after she left. Never would she have guessed he'd come recruit her for the First Order years later.

"You should listen more to yourself and less to the ones around you." She meant Snoke, but saying his name felt like summoning a demon sometimes. She squeezed before taking her hand off, but was surprised when he engulfed her in his arms, caging her against his chest in an iron grip. She sighed and patted him on the back, almost felt bad for the sucker, when she felt the hilt of his lightsaber just below her ribs. He'd only have to turn in on now. He inched away, his steady gaze meeting her own, a smile playing on his lips. The pressure of the saber went away the next second. He ruffled her hair like he used to do when they were both naïve little padawans, in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I'd never cut you down, Y/N." But that was exactly why Snoke was keeping her around, couldn't he see? How could they still pretend to be friends when one of them was always going to die at the hand of the other? This was more than some misplaced sibling rivalry! She was sith, but even she could admit that the stupid 'rule of two' was ridiculous and outdated. The code was a guideline, each generation seeming to interpret it to their own needs. So why were listening to that overpowered morsel? Why were they playing along to revive the Empire's glory when it had obviously failed once? But he seemed so naïve sometimes, placing such trust in someone like that old scrotum. She was reminded of the Resistance and their own innocent dreams. Could she still pull Kyl- Ben out of Snoke's grasp?

"Let's go another round."

"Fine, but then we sneak off to Nar Shaddaa, get some drinks, maybe get into a barfight, kill some bandits. Deal?" He shook his head, but there was a glimmer in his eyes as he took stance for attack.

Y/N didn't know if it had been then that she decided. It might have been in the back of her head since that day he came as Kylo Ren and offered her a place in the First Order, but it was in that moment when he charged at her, the childlike joy back in his dark eyes, that she swore she was going to get him away from Snoke's influence.

[seeds-and-sins]

F**kin’ Diabolical (Chapter 6)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought’s operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn’t have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Chapter Summary; Homelander agrees to take Carly to her apartment, then someone knocks at her door.

 The flight to her apartment complex was absolute hell, just like the rest of her day had been so far. If Homelander hadn't been there to catch her every time she came plummeting down to earth, she would have killed a lot of people, she was sure of it. Not to mention, the feeling of being 20,000 feet, or higher, in the sky was not easy to get used to. She hated roller coasters and airplanes and zip lining, and just about everything that had to do with heights, so when Homelander urged her to go higher she felt like her heart stopped. It was beautiful, a fantastic view of the city. However, she was certainly not used to flying in the sky, or being bulletproof, or having lasers shoot out of her eyes, so she couldn’t really enjoy that view. Homelander had to keep reminding her that if she really did fall, "You won't feel a thing", which only made reality progressively worse for her. 

    When they finally arrived she had ended up clutching to him like he was her last breath, begging him to sink the landing so she wouldn't blow clear through several stories in her descent. She knew how amusing this was for him, she could see it in his eyes every time she would looked to him for help. He was the worst person she could seek guidance from, but in these desperate times, he was the only person she could seek guidance from. He had been manhandling her, dragging her around, criticizing her for not being able to catch on so quick. This must had been some sort of dream for him.

   Then, of course, there was the name: Lady Liberty. It was catchy and classy, but who the fuck would come up with a name on the fly like that?! No. He had been ready, waiting, ever so patient, and he said it like she was already a supe, like the name was burned into her flesh at birth. She imagined herself flying beside him, wearing his colors, flashing his abilities, what a sickening thought to think that would get him off? She used to laud the man, then she found out he was just some lab experiment, like all the other supers, and now she was too. What even was this? What was she doing? Where was she? Oh yeah, she was in her apartment. She didn’t even realize because it didn't feel the same, she didn't feel like herself. 

   When she entered, Homelander in tow, she went straight for the alcohol. She scurried around the bar counter, grabbed a scotch glass and poured some whiskey for herself. Homelander watched silently as she downed the whole glass in one gulp, then she tipped her head forward, wincing her lips and poured another. He then continued to stalk around, probing the entire apartment, although she knew he had seen it before. Despite it being speculation, she figured he had stalked her, or watched her in the past. The fact that he knew where she lived and that he knew where her clothes were was suspicious enough. With everything going on, she didn't really have much time to sort out her feelings on the matter. She downed another full glass, gulp after gulp. The burn of the whiskey melted into her, and she fucking needed it. 

"That won't work. Trust me." She caught her breath, hand clutching as gently at the bottle of whiskey as she could. 

"What won't?"

"You can't get-"

"Don't say it, Homelander. Don't you fucking say it." He shrugged, then continued to walk around the perimeter of her apartment, a full on inspection. "Can you not fucking act like you haven't seen this place before?" She left the whiskey and empty glass, turned off now by the fact that she wouldn't feel its effects no matter how hard she tried. 

"I did," He paused in stride, eyes focused out the window spanning the wall, where a balcony hung. "To retrieve your clothes, remember?" 

"Oh, don't play innocent, it doesn't suit you." Homelander snorted, almost nervously, then faced her again with a smile. 

"Carly, I don't have any idea what you are talking about." Her bare and dirty feet padded against the wood as she started towards the hall that lead to her bedroom.

"Sure you don't." She remarked sarcastically, zooming past him.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a shower. Go watch TV, or something." Carly did have a moment over by the bar, where she had to reel herself back into reality, yet again. Homelander was in her home and she had superpowers, it doesn't get more fucked than that. Even more so, Homelander had been spying on her for who knows how long, and he was in her living room, and she had superpowers. She needed a shower so bad. She needed to just wash all of this shit away, physically and emotionally. Homelander watched her disappear down the hall, she could feel his eyes piercing through her.

    She entered her room, closing the door behind her, as if that would stop the great Homelander. She rested her head back against the door, careful not to put all of her weight on it in fear of it breaking behind her. She closed her eyes, tried to settle in to this feeling that had been coursing through her since she woke up. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it into the hamper that stood not so far off by the door, leading into the bathroom. She then discarded the sweatpants, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. She turned to face the long side oval mirror on her nightstand, eyes softening at her damaged state. She looked like Carly, but she didn't feel like Carly. 

   She twisted her waist, above her hip sat a clear scar that trailed from around the curve of her side, up towards her rib cage, where it stopped. It was still there, so she must still be Carly. She watched her hand, mesmerized as it rose up to her cheek, fingers peddling against the flesh. The same flesh that can withstand anything that came its way, but it still felt soft, like Carly. The fingers slid up and over through her hair, where her lips parted and she could feel the oily strands between her fingers. She felt the tears blossom in her eyes, where oddly enough she still feel the heat in them from the heat vision. How can someone be a human one day, ever so vulnerable, then be an indestructible hero the next? She placed her hands on her waist now, taut beneath her fingers and she stared at her reflection again. She couldn't even look, the pose didn't make her feel any better or greater. It made her feel like a stranger. 

   In the reflection she saw her acoustic guitar, the solid black giving her some solace in these trying times. She stepped over to it, almost subconsciously, and picked up the neck. She settled herself down onto the edge of the bed, propping the guitar on her lap. Perhaps a somber tune would ease her mind, but before strumming at the strings her attention locked on something else. She caught sight of the wall beside her bed, it couldn't have gone unnoticed, it was a masterpiece of her own design. The sight of a thousand sticky notes and strung up pictures that she had painted, sketches that she had drawn. She mindlessly placed her guitar down beside her on the bed and stood, feet taking her to a single sketch that she had made so long ago. It was of Homelander.

   At the time she criticized herself; the nose was too crooked, or the eyes just weren't all too great, but no, the sketch was the perfect image of him. She remembered the pencil taking over her that day, and she didn't really know what drove her to sit down and crank out his image. Of all the things she had drawn, Homelander was certainly the most elaborated sketch. The way she traced his jawline, the crisps of his hair, the subtle tiredness in his eyes, did he-they even feel exhaustion? She didn't feel exhausted right now, was that another post-compound quality? 

    She closed her eyes, and honed into the silence, giving herself a moment to enjoy this peace while it lasted. Then something happened all too soon, she found herself unprepared for it. She could hear voices, the honking of cars, the breathing, the heartbeats, the wind, it was like in the hospital that morning. Her eyes fluttered open, and her expression turned fierce. She couldn't even enjoy silence, not without hearing everybody else. She huffed out her agitation, then stormed towards the small bathroom, where maybe the water could do her some good. 

   It was a thin bathroom, and very cluttered, cluttered with an array of hair products, makeup, perfumes, and lotions. There was no bath tub, much to her distaste when she originally got the apartment. The thin brick that separated the floor and the shower tile was all that kept water from leaking everywhere. The curtain was an off blue, that matched the navy bath mat she had put down. She finally removed her underwear, tossing it into the hamper with her other clothes. She didn't waste any time, finding herself under the rusty shower faucet and turning the lever over. She made the water as hot as possible, knowing that too hot was no problem for her now, and also that she needed that steam and that warm embrace. 

   She sat under the water, feeling it trickle down over her, her blonde strands soaking and sticking to her skin. She enjoyed the stream as it caressed her back massaged her, allowed herself to be engulfed in its blissful touch. She moaned out her approval and settled her forearms against the wall above her, resting her forehead on them. This felt nice, after a second of relaxing under the water she was already feeling calm. She controlled her breathing, trying to find that meditative state that would allow her to just... Not think. Even when there was so much to think about, so much coursing through her mind. And Allen? She had tried not to think about him, about how he died. She wished he hadn't, she wished none of this would have happened, she should have listened to his warnings. What soared through her mind regarding last night made her feel disgusted in herself. She had done some horrific things and she was sure the things she couldn't remember were probably worse. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Where was that coming from?! What was that?!

Knock! Kno- 

THE DOOR!

   Carly felt her breath catch, she jumped out of the shower, part of the tile cracking under her as she went. She snatched her bathrobe of the hanger on the door, the door ripped off its hinges from the force. 

“Fuck me.” She ground out, but kept moving anyways. Her toes left puddles of water after her as she threw on the silk white fabric. She jogged into the living room, Homelander was calmly sitting on the couch, arm splayed out over its rest, the news on full blast. 

"Who the fuck is this guy?" Homelander asked plainly and she ignored him as she tied her robe and answered the door, cracking it and peaking her head out. 

"Billy?" She breathed out, fighting the urge to swing the door open and hug him. His eyes furrowed in confusion at the sight of her, wet hair, flushed cheeks, a bath robe?

"Carly, what the bloody fuck?! I thought you were in the hospital?" She shot her eyes over her shoulder at Homelander, who was glaring at her, unsure of her next move, but she went anyways. She exited her apartment, closing the door behind her. Billy staring at her with this crazed, flustered look in his eyes. She was fine, intact, critical condition, his ass?!

"Billy, this is a bad time." She stated, and his expression turned more into concern. He stepped closer and she stepped back, she was so afraid of touching him. One wrong move and she could kill him, with no control over her powers, this was a bad idea. Billy's expression hardened and he flung his hands up in the air.

"Carls, are you okay?! What happened?!" She noticed the flowers, and a part of her wanted to just hug him, hug him so bad. She needed a good hug, from someone, anyone. Billy would probably give the best hugs. He was such a burly guy and during their talks in the elevator she could smell the scent of him: a mix between cigarettes and cheap cologne.

"Are those for me?" She crooned, he had forgotten about the flowers, still shocked that she was even standing before him. He held the flowers up with a snort, perhaps to lighten his own frustration over the situation. 

"Yeah, I went to the hospital to go find ya' and you were fuckin' gone..." She opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going, gesturing to her front door. "Then I come 'ere, and hear your TV on, thought some bloody shitfaced rocker had taken up your apartment."

"Oh, yeah..." She was at a loss for words, how do you explain to someone that you are dangerous? That you are a supe now? Especially after making a show against superheroes. 

"And then, I heard that Homelander came to see ya'?!" He said, his tone filled with disbelief. "I go to your room and it was absolutely trashed! I thought you were dead!"

"Billy, I-"

"What? It's alright, you can tell me. I am here for ya'." His lips quirked up slightly, despite his frustration, she looked under extreme distress. She needed someone to comfort her, not berate her. He'd never seen her so torn apart, and it really did hurt him to see her like this. This was far worse than going to visit a burn victim, much like he had originally expected, she was far worse than that.

"Billy..." Her voice shaky, and her lip wobbled as if she was about to cry. He stepped close again, she didn't move, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Carly, I have never seen you like this before. You have to talk to me?"

"It's okay, I-I am fine." She held her hand out for the flowers, he hesitantly handed them to her, then gave her some distance. Still reeling in confusion and concern, he watched her usher herself through the door.

"Hey?" He said, she paused in the doorway, unable to meet his stare. "I just want ya' to know, I am..." He cleared his throat. "Always here for ya, alright? Us ugly faces got to stick together." She smiled sadly and nodded her head. 

"I will remember that. Thank you...” She gulped, “For everything." He gave her a curt nod as she disappeared behind the door. She held the flowers in her hand, staring at the wood blankly. She exhaled a trembling breath, and then slowly turned to Homelander. He was standing, hard glare on his face, arms crossed, about to reprimand her. 

“Now what the fuc-” She dropped the flowers and rushed towards him, her arms snaking around his sides and his hands flew up in surprise. He could feel all of her against, the thin material of the bath robe shielded nothing as her form sculpted so perfectly with his own. He had to admit. He had been watching her earlier, every step, every movement, threw him in a daze. She was perfect. He knew she would be. He could feel her body’s closeness start to have an effect on him and he was worried she would notice. "C-Carly..." He protested in a hushed whispered, she pressed her body into him even further, hugging him as hard as she could. He would have gasped if it hadn’t been for him biting his lip and clutching his gloves so firmly. His own arms soon wrapped around her, returning the embrace, although awkwardly. 

She just needed a hug, and Homelander was the only person she could give one too.

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 1 - First Meeting

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This was written as part of the annual Fraxus Week event hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​​. This year I’ve decided to make an eight-part multi-chapter fic out of the prompts. They might not be in the correct order, but I think the end product will be worth it. Hope you all enjoy it.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut.  Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Chapter One – Getting Aboard

It had been Bickslow's idea.

Nobody would think it, but the blue haired idiot was perhaps the most caring of the group, the mother figure, in a way. He wasn't the most conventional 'mom friend', and it certainly didn't diminish his enthusiasm to get drunk off his ass when the opportunity presented itself, but he was always the one keeping an eye out on his friends and knew when something was wrong. Apparently he had seen something was wrong with all three of them, and had come up with this plan on how to fix it.

A road trip to the Grand Canyon. None of his friends knew where the idea had come from, nor did they know why he insisted on renting an RV and driving there instead of getting the train. But the man had this enthusiasm about him that was cast upon them like a spell, and they couldn't find a way to fight it. Perhaps they all knew they needed the break.

Laxus was damn sure he did.

It had been just shy of a year since his graduation from college, and his plan had been to get a job in a gym being a personal trainer. That hadn't happened. He'd gone to many job interviews and nothing had come from any of them, and each rejection had been like a punch to the gut. He knew he couldn't just use his grandfather's money for ever, so had gotten what was meant to be a temporary job in an office while he looked for more appropriate employment. That had been nine months ago, and he hadn't been near to an interview for his chosen career in over half a year.

So far, his post college life had been a failure. Perhaps he had been naïve to think good things would happen instantly, perhaps he just needed to be patient. But the idea of getting away from everything for a week was what he needed.

Even if it was in what he could only assume was a crappy van.

Even if he had to wake up at five thirty to get on the highway before the majority of traffic, for some reason.

Even if one of the people he was traveling with was a stranger.

He had known Bickslow for the longest. They had been friends since they were kids and, although Bickslow moving away for college had meant they weren't as close as they once were, Laxus still considered the man his closest friend. He was chaotic, loyal, and overall just a fun guy. He could be obnoxious, but who couldn't?

Evergreen had come later, when she transferred into their high-school and Bickslow had dragged her into their small group. She was a little haughty at first, but that was clearly a defensive state she took on as the new girl. As they got closer, she showed a snarkier and quick-witted side. She fit in with the two men like the missing piece of a puzzle, even if she had a stupid insistence of hitting them with a fan when annoyed.

But now there was Freed.

Laxus didn't know all that much about Freed. He knew that he went to the same college that Bickslow and Ever did. He knew that he lived a few towns over, about half an hour's drive. He knew that he was a literary and science major. That was it. But both Bix and Ever thought well of him, so he was probably a good person.

"What time is he coming?" Makarov asked, cupping a mug of coffee while sitting at the kitchen table.

"Should be a few minutes," Laxus shrugged, biting into the toast he'd made for himself.

"I don't get why you have to leave this early," Makarov commented, glancing at the clock handing on the wall as sipped his drink. "You're going to be driving for days on end, you'll get caught in traffic anyway. You might as well sleep in to an appropriate time."

"Nobody asked you to see me off," Laxus quirked an eyebrow. He agreed with the sentiment though, he'd much rather leave later and deal with the traffic.

"No, but you seemed determined to bump into everything as you were getting ready and to make as much noise as you could. It's hard to sleep through that," Makarov grinned, clearly trying to get a reaction out of his grandson. "Besides, it's been years since I saw your friends, it'll be nice to see them again. And that new boy you'll be travelling with, I want to mee him too."

"We're picking him up later," Laxus said, crunching another bite of toast; he had burned it.

"Ah," Makarov nodded.

The two men fall into a comfortable quiet, the silence being accompanied by the radio Makarov had insisted turning on despite complaining about all the music they played. Laxus ate his breakfast while his grandfather read the newspaper. Once Laxus was finished, he checked the small suitcase that he had packed for himself to make sure it had everything he needed, then sat back at the kitchen table and waited for his friends to arrive.

A few minutes later he got the text saying that Bickslow was outside. He cracked his back and walked to the front door of the house he shared with his grandfather, and looked upon the large RV that had been parked at the foot of the driveway.

It was an impressive looking vehicle, and probably a good model. The idea to go on this road trip had been made in March, giving the four of them four months to save up enough to hire something relatively luxurious. Bickslow was hanging out of driver's seat window with a wide grin on his face, clearly happy that his plan was starting. Laxus found his enthusiasm infectious, and a small smile graced his lips as he approached.

This was exactly what he needed to put aside the disappointment of the year.

"Hey man," Bickslow greeted with a voice too loud for the time of the morning. He looked past Laxus and grinned wider. "Hey Mr D."

"Morning Bickslow," Makarov greeted from the doorframe, smiling. "Is Evergreen not with you?"

"She's in the back, sleepin'. Told her that it'll take a hell of a lot of beauty sleep not to make her look like that, but she didn't listen to me," He cackled at his own joke, and Laxus chuckled as he saw a hairbrush hit him in the back of his head. "The big guy wake you up, Mr D?"

"What do you think?" Makarov laughed, and Laxus glared at him. Since when was it a known trait that he couldn't keep quiet in the morning?

"See you in a week-old man," Laxus waved his hand, hoping to stop the taunting conversation between his friend and relative. "Try not to die while I'm gone."

"Cheeky brat," Makarov retorted with a grin. "Have fun kids."

Bickslow gave a response in the affirmative while Laxus pulled open the door of the RV, climbing up the steps. It was as nice inside as it was outside, with a small table and seating nook, a cooking area, a bed at the back and a small room that Laxus assumed would be the washroom. Laxus absently wondered if either he or Bickslow would manage to fit in the shower, given their size. But still, it was a nice vehicle and would be more than enough for their week inside of it.

Laxus walked to the front of the vehicle and took the passenger's seat, grinning at the sight of Evergreen with an eye mask on while buckled into the seats surrounding the table. The seat was comfortable enough, and Laxus found himself smiling at the vehicle.

"She's nice, right," Bickslow grinned in reference to the RV. "Best one they had. Turns out four of us not having any fun for months means we save a lot of money."

"Glad to hear it," Laxus chuckled. "I half expected you to pull up in some crappy van with a piss stained mattress in the back."

"Oddly specific there Dreyar. Speaking from experience?" Bickslow grinned, and it was clear that his excitement was going to make him completely obnoxious throughout the week. As annoying as it was, Laxus wouldn't have it any other way. "So, just gonna put this out here. Sleeping situation. The bed at the back fits two, and the table folds away and makes another single bed. Obviously, they'll be two of us in the back. So we can either have Ever and Freed sharing the single bed 'casue we won't fit-"

"Like hell I'm sharing," Ever snapped from her seat. "It'll be cramped enough as it is."

"Or we take turns each night with one of us in that chair," He nodded to the seat Laxus was sitting in. "It reclines and turns slightly, so they'll be enough leg space. It's basically like a plane seat without anyone behind you."

"I'm sure we can manage with that," Laxus nodded. "Wouldn't wanna piss of medusa," A hairbrush hit the back of Laxus' head this time. "How many brushes do you have?"

"Five, they each do different things," Evergreen grunted from her seat, and Laxus chuckled when he saw her put the mask over her eyes again.

"How can they do different things?" Laxus asked.

"They just do, it's why they're all different shapes and have thinner and thicker prongs," Evergreen sighed. "Ask Freed when he gets here, I'm sure he'll know. And that way you won't be talking to me and I can get some sleep."

Laxus decided not to push his luck, knowing that his friend had enough strength to throw a hair dryer at his head, as well as the morality to do so. Instead he leant over to Bickslow, who had pushed the key into the ignition, and spoke softly.

"Why would he know much about hair brushes exactly?" He asked, and Bickslow looked at him with confusion before realisation hit him.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting that you know basically nothing about him," He laughed, turning the key, and starting the engine. It was a powerful machine, and Laxus appreciated it. "Freed's got really long hair, keeps it pretty well looked after too. Goes down to his ass, don't know when he last had it cut. It looks good on him though. Oh, and it's green. Like, bright green."

"Really," Laxus furrowed his brows. "Everything you've said about him makes him seem pretty… strait laced I guess."

"He is, kinda. He's just got green hair," Bickslow shrugged, smiling wide. "He's kinda contradictory when you get to know him. You'll love him, I know it baby."

Bickslow revved the engine unnecessarily, waved out the window with an overly loud 'Bye Mr D!' as he did so, and started to pull out from Laxus' neighbourhood. Laxus gave his grandfather a small wave in goodbye, and saw the old man return the gesture. He leant back in his comfortable chair and allowed the gentle vibrations of the vehicle moving to calm him, closing his eyes softly as the warm sun hit his face through the front window.

This was exactly what he had needed after the year he'd had, and even the idea of being in the RV with a stranger didn't put a damper on his mood.

~~~

It had taken about forty minutes to get into the town Freed had lived in, and only a little while longer to get to his apartment. The building wasn't the nicest looking place in the world, and Bickslow explained that Freed lived by himself and financed his own life through his student loan and a job. Laxus didn't judge him; that was an admirable thing to do and he couldn't look down on his because he lived in a slightly crappy apartment building.

Honestly, for some reason he had expected a spoiled kid.

"Could you go up and get him?" Bickslow asked, looking towards Laxus.

"Can't you text him?"

"Nah, he takes hours to answer any texts, so I never know if he actually reads them quickly or not. Don't wanna be waiting down here for ages," Bickslow shrugged, and then grinned. "Besides, it'll give the two of ya a chance to get to know each other before you get trapped in here with us. Makes it less awkward."

Laxus sighed, but nodded. He was almost certain that getting to know Freed was the only reason he had been chosen to find the man, but he couldn't prove it as he didn't know if Bickslow's claim about his texting etiquette was true or not. He shifted his way out of the RV, Bickslow shouting the man's apartment number and the code for the door as he did so. Once he closed the door, he could swear that he heard the two speaking in the van, but ignored it.

The apartment building wasn't run down, but it was lacking luxury. Paint was peeling off some of the walls and the elevator opened with a horrid creak. Laxus walked into it and pushed the button for the ninth floor.

A ridiculous bubble of nervousness entered his stomach as the elevator started to ascend. He had never been talented socially, and his communication skills were both blunt and often uncared for. This had meant he never truly got used to being around new people, and it took him a while to warm up with most people. And now he was going to be stuck in a pretty small RV for around a week with a man he didn't know. He knew that his friends were good judges of characters and they assured him that they'd get along, but Laxus still could be nervous about meeting him.

Once the lift had found the right floor, Laxus looked around and settled on the sixth apartment's door. He knocked it curtly, the sound echoing awkwardly in the hallway. Laxus fidgeted for a moment before it was opened, revealing Freed.

"Oh," The man said in a velvet smooth voice. "Hello."

"Hey," Laxus greeted. "I'm Laxus, Bickslow might have told you about me. He said to come get you."

"Of course," The man said, and offered him a smile.

It was a nice smile. In fact the entirety of the man was nice to look at. He had long green hair, as Bickslow had said, and it was tied up in a high pony tail. A few green strands had fallen down to frame his face, accenting his sharp features, and pronounced bone structure. His outfit portrayed a fit body, and the unassigned top button showed a small slather of a firm chest. He had piercing blue eyes, a small black mark high on his left cheek, and thin lips.

When his eyes flickered down, he saw that the man had two large sports bags at his feet, clearly his own luggage. Laxus was suddenly reminded of why he was there, and snapped out of his split-second trance.

"You need help with them?" He offered.

"I'm fine," Freed assured him. "Although you could hold this if you don't mind."

He reached for a shelf in his apartment and picked up a small plastic thermos, handing it to Laxus. The blonde took it and looked at it with confusion. "Doesn't it make more sense for you to hold your own drink. I really don't mind taking a bag."

"It's not for me," Freed explained, lifting his bags out of his apartment, and placing them down to lock the door. "I shared a morning class with Evergreen, and she was snappy enough at eight in the morning, let alone half six. I assumed she might need some caffeine."

"Yeah, both me a Bix got a hairbrush thrown at us already," Laxus laughed. "Probably a good call."

"I would have made the two of you one as well," Freed stated as they walked down the hall. "But I don't know what you drink, and I don't believe that Bickslow needs any help in being overly energetic."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure my grandpa's neighbour is gonna complain because of the shouting," Laxus grinned a little as he called the elevator. His friends were a topic he could handle.

"I'm surprised he didn't try and get my attention by yelling from the sidewalk."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that the only reason he sent me up here is so we can talk without them being there," Laxus admitted, before wondering if it was appropriate to say so. Was it meant to be a secret?

"It makes sense," Freed nodded. "They haven't really told me too much about you. I know your name, that you're a year older than us, and that you went to college to become trained in sports science and physiotherapy. That's essentially it."

"Well, that's all true," Laxus said as he walked into the open elevator. "I haven't gotten a job in my field yet, so I took a temp job. But I'm still looking. Bix said you've got a job as well as going to college?"

"I'm a waiter at Blue Pegasus, a restaurant a few blocks away," Freed explained. "It's not the most interesting work, but the pay is enough to keep me stable. And sometimes I'll get a meal at the end of the shift for free, so I can't complain."

Laxus nodded, understanding the conflict of working at a job that doesn't thrill you without having the option of quitting. The elevator started to slide down, and a repetitive tone began to play in the small box. Neither man spoke, and Laxus would have expected the urge to fill the silence, but it didn't come. For whatever reason, he felt comfortable with not speaking when Freed was around, something that didn't happen to him often.

Thinking back, the last time he had been okay in silence with a stranger had been Evergreen.

They reached the bottom floor hallway of the building a moment later, and Laxus held open the front door for Freed so the man could walk out without dropping his bags. When they walked into the morning sun, Laxus found himself momentarily transfixed by the sight of the man under natural light.

He looked radiant.

His slightly paler skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his perfectly brushed hair shimmered in the light. His eyes even seemed to sparkle as he approached the comparatively dull vehicle that was their home for the next week. Laxus' grip on the thermos tightened slightly as he walked forward.

"Just opened the storage," Bickslow commented from the window. "Put your bags in there, so we have space."

Freed nodded, walking to the small storage cubby that was opened from the side of the truck. He placed his bags down and opened it, and Laxus walked beside him. Freed placed one of the bags into the RV's trunk equivalent, and Laxus lifted the other to do the same. It held a fair amount of weight to it, and Laxus found himself impressed that the man had managed to lift this and another bag without any difficulty. Maybe the bulging in his sleeves wasn't just vanity muscles, as Laxus had assumed.

"Thank you," Freed nodded towards Laxus, closing the storage space.

"It's fine," Laxus assured him.

The two men climbed inside the RV, being greeted by a still too cheery 'welcome to the party bus' form Bickslow. Laxus saw that, in his time in the building, Evergreen had taken the front seat and was reclining in it with the eye mask on and a blanket covering her body. He rolled his eyes, placed the drink in a cup holder on the dash, and looked back over the RV's interior. The only place you could sit while it moved were in the table booth that Freed was sitting at. Laxus took the seat opposite him.

As he got into the leather booth, he saw that Freed had taken out a novel and was scanning the paged with quick moving eyes. The sun was hitting his face just right and illuminated it in a damn impressive way. Annoyingly, Laxus blushed

"All aboard," Bickslow yelled. "Next stop, the Grand Canyon."

And, with a pleasant nervousness in his stomach as he looked at Freed, Laxus found himself excited for the journey.

[phantomofsilence]

Title : Stuck Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Word Count : Honestly who the hell knows?

Warning : Sad Bucky, sad Steve, you can see it from the request.

A/N :

Alright so i already posted this request but Tumblr somehow deleted it. So i had to do it all over again. Well thankfully not the story, i fortunately wrote it in the notes, i learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway along with a story the request itself was deleted. So i think this is how the request went, if it was your request message me if it was wrong. Also i had a really hard time with this request, i don't know why i just wasn't inspired, well probably more tired from college than inspired, but that's why it took so long. I wanted to do it right. Also for anyone else who send me a request i saw it, and i will right it as soon as my obligations allow me some free time. Also i did the P. O. V. thing so don't get confused. Okay, enough rambling, i hope you like it. And also i believe there was a compliment in the request for gif usage, thank you for that. 😘😘😘❤️

Request : Can you do a fic where you and the new agent are getting closer to the point where the team suspects that you are falling out of love with Bucky? (angst to fluff).

Steve's P. O. V.

As soon as he saw her enter the kitchen Chris was out of his seat smothering her in a hug, but Natasha and Steve, hung back and watched with frowns on their faces.

They stayed quiet during their conversation occasionally sipping coffee.

Their stubbornness and Steve's persistence in making sure both him and the team stay out of this complicated and deeply personal situation, rendered them mute, as they stood there cold and stoic, as they sipped on their coffee.

Many would say the intimacy in the embrace, those gentle smiles, and completely unnecessary gazes they were curently being subjected to were highly inappropriate and Steve would have to agree with them.

The more he watched, the more sorry he felt for his friend. But no, Steve wasn't angry at her, he was hurt. How could such a sweet girl be so uncaring? No one deserves this kind of treatment, his friend the least. He's been through so much already, Steve thought you out of all people understood this.

He lost so much, did he have to lose you too?

You were the rock that kept thing moving, a force anyone could fall back on if needed to be. And you want to abandon it all, for this Chris, a man you barely know compared to his friend.

Steve knew he was letting his feelings cloud his judgement, and you haven't really done anything but spent time with a man you claimed was your friend, a man that was your partner. He knew he spent just as much, if not more time with Natasha and she was one of his most valued friends.

Also, Chris seemed like a nice guy, the kind of man if you were still single he'd advise you to go for.

But that's it, you weren't single. In fact you were in a committed relationship with the most important person in his life.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he didn't know what to do. Invade his best friend's privacy or let his best friend be hurt when he could at least cushion the blow.

One more look at the 'lovely couple' and he decided, privacy be damned, his friend deserves honesty at least and he was gonna make sure he got it for him.

"Steve.." a voice trailed off cautiously, he looked over the see Natasha leaning on the counter facing them, with her head turned towards him looking at him.

"I know, Nat." he knew he shouldn't have snapped, it wasn't her fault. She sighed.

"Steve it should be one of us, I know it sucks to hurt him like that, but it's even worse if he caught them, and we knew but didn't tell him."Like always the redhead was right, but he still tried to reason with her.

"But she hasn't done anything yet Natasha, we can't make things up when they didn't happen."

She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Yes, Steve, she hasn't done anything, yet Steve. The key word being yet. Come on, Steve! They've known each other for only two months, and they are joined at the hip. If you think Bucky didn't notice you are mistaken. Dude's been giving her the kicked puppy eyes for days now and she hasn't even noticed choosing to ogle at her new beau. This calls for revenge! "The redhead took a deep breath and said.

" He is your best friend Steve, if the rolls were reversed wouldn't you like him to say something? "

Steve didn't respond, it wasn't necessary, they both knew the answer. Instead of pushing him, Natasha gently squeezed his shoulder and left him in the kitchen to think it over.

An hour later Steve was letting out his anger on a punching bag. The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he got.

This wasn't his relationship but it was his friend. Thou you were his friend too, after Peggy's death you along with Natasha were there for him, hell you've spent the whole day making jokes just to make him forget.

You were like Bucky, the Bucky from before, not just before The Winter Soldier, but before the war. The guy that got him in a lot of trouble and the guy that stood by him and protected him when he took a bite too large to swallow.

The man that took him to many unsuccessful dates, his companion, his family, it's what drew him to you.

You were a sense reality in the world that no longer made sense, a familiar face in a strange place.

Although he wanted to protect his friend, he also felt oddly protective of you. He couldn't betray your trust, but he couldn't betray Bucky either.

Why did this has to be so hard? He thought and punched the punching bag so hard it ripped and fell few feet away.

"What did that punch bag ever do to you?" Said a man Steve was successfully avoiding since this morning.

"Oh, hey Buck. What's up?" he said trying to act nonchalant. "I could ask you the same thing. Why are you avoiding me? Did i do something?" Bucky demanded.

"I'm not avoiding you." Steve mildly shrugged. Glaring at him he got closer almost to his face. "What the hell is going on?"

Steve could hear the anger in his voice, but also hurt, trying to protect him he's the one that ended up hurting him.

"Nothing, Buck." Steve said. "Listen here, punk!

"It's bad enough the love of my life could possible be cheating on me right now, now i can't even trust you!? What the hell man?"

Steve looked at his best friend, his eyes were puffy, tears threatening to spill, but he refused to let them fall, he had dark bags under his eyes, he hasn't been sleeping well, his hands shaking in anger, this was a man already hurt.

"Look i wanted to tell you about her, but I didn't want to betray her either so I've been ignoring you both so i don't hurt anyone. I guess that ship sailed." He said, his friend deserved honestly at least he can get it from him.

"You think she's cheating on me?" asked Bucky. "I don't know, man. I did not see her so anything, from all we know we're just making stuff up."

Steve frowned, even thou he shouldn't do it now, he was defending her. "You're a good friend, Steve. But i didn't ask what you saw, i want a yes or no answer." Bucky said.

"Why do i matter, why are you asking me? If you really wanted to know you'd ask her. But you're asking me because you know i will never give you that answer. So why are you asking me, Buck?" Steve demanded.

Bucky glared at him, before he grabbed his shoulder giving him a smile." You're a punk, kid."Bucky said, paused to inhale and exhale before continuing." It's because i don't really wanna know. I love her, Steve. If fact i love her so much that even thou, she 's literally ripping me in half, my brain is still finding a reason to forgive her. That she loves me and it's all a mistake. I'm pathetic."

Bucky lowered his head, squeezed his shoulder again, let go and turned to leave.

At the door Steve voice halted him in place.

" You're not pathetic. You love her. Knowing you my whole life, you were never soft on a dame like that. I'm sorry it had to be like this."

Without turning around Bucky whispered. "Me too." And left.

Steve could see it bright as day this man was a mess. He had to do something, you might be his friend, and it wasn't his business , but he was about to confront you.

Steve knew you, you were not a coward.

He would get you to tell the truth, perhaps it wasn't too late. You need to be honest and you might even work it out with Bucky.

Taking his phone out of his pocket he texted you to meet him in his room.

Your P. O. V.

After the workout Chris suggested you go to the diner you always go after a successful mission.

"Come on it's been some time since we been there." Snorting at that statement you replied. "We literally went there two days ago."

Groaning Chris whined. "Exactly, too long, come on i know you can practically taste those fries and that strawberry and vanilla milkshake you like. Eh, it will be fun and if i may say so i make great company."

Although the offer was tempting, and you really could taste those fries and that delicious milkshake, you had to go home to your boyfriend.

You missed him so much, and judging by those sad eyes he's been giving you he missed you just as much, if not more.

The missions you were being sent on this past month left little to no time for your relationship, and now having to prepare for an undercover mission of great importance and you weren't allowed to speak about it with anyone according to Maria, you were forced to spend all your free time with Chris.

Well forced was a harsh word, Chris was a great man and an amazing partner, but he wasn't your boyfriend.

"Sorry gotta take a rain check." You mumbled apologetically. Chris smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

"Hey i get it, if i had a hunk like that waiting for me at home, i wouldn't even bother talking to you. Scram, kid." You arched an eyebrow on chuckling. "Is that so? "

"I'd fuck him."

As you were nearing your apartment your phone buzzed. Looking at the screen you saw you had a text from Steve. Opening it read' We need to talk, met me at my place'.

Steve was not the best texter but he never sounded this urgent and formal. If this was about the mission he would have asked meat at The Tower, this was personal.

Something was wrong.

All it took was three knocks to be met with Steve's hard gaze, he stood aside allowing you to come in.

"So we need to talk?Are you breaking up with me Steve?"A light-hearted joke that was meant to brighten the mood was met with a glare. Okay, not the right crowd.

"Listen, i know it's non of my business and you're my friend, but this needs to end. What the hell is going on with you and Chris? "

Steve asked firmly before placing his hands on his belt buckle. You knew that stance, you've seen it a million times, it was meant to frighted and send a message that he met business.

You never thought you's see it being used on you. But you weren't so easily scared.

"You're right, Steve it's non of your business ." You replied defensively. Who was he thinking he could question you?

"You're right, but i don't care. I'm the one who has to watch my friend heartbroken when you leave with Chris, so excuse me if I'm a little protective. Just don't. Own up to it." Steve said.

"Own up to what, Steve? Heartbroken? My Bucky? What the hell is going on?" You demanded. You have done nothing to Bucky. What the hell is he talking about?"You hurt him and..." Steve began but you cut him off. "Hurt him i haven' t even spoken to him!" You piped up.

"Exactly."

Bucky's P. O. V.

Knowing he couldn't stay cupped up in his room with all those thoughts swearing in his head Bucky decided to take a walk, and by walk he meant a run, muttering angry at nothing and panting wildly.

He wasn't sure if he was panting because he was tired from the aggressive run or the work his mind put him through.

He decided the latter.

As if he was cursed to suffer today, he ran into the last person he wanted to see. Chris strolled up to him, a bright smile on his face, as if he wasn't the cause to his misery. Some nerve on this guy!

"Hey, Buck right?" he said to Bucky holding his hand for him to shake. Bucky just looked down at it frown.

"Not a hand shaker? Alright, i get it. I'm getting used on it myself.Also some say it's unhygienic."

What pissed of Bucky even more was that Chris wasn't even fazed by Bucky unfriendly stance. This guy!

"Anyway i just wanted to meet the man my partner won't shut up about. I mean that woman's got you on a pedestal you'd think your shooting rainbow out of your ass."

Keep rubbing salt to an open wound, Bucky though. This dude was something else.

"Look man, i don't really know her for that long, but she's kinda grown on me. She's one heck of a woman. She means a lot to me and... " Bucky cut him of. "I can imagine." He remarked through his teeth.

"No, you really can't, she has been there for me after the war, you know when you get back everyone keeps walking on egg shells around you, it's a strange place, even the bed feels wrong, too soft. But she made me feel human."

Suddenly the anger for the man was gone and all that was left was confusion. Chris was a marine? It would explain his posture.

" She's not afraid to hold me, i thank God or whatever is out there everyday for a friend like her. "

Bucky knew what he was talking about oh to well, she made him fell the same. She was comfort, she was peace, she was his home.

" Why are you telling me all of this? "Bucky asked.

" Because I'm not blind, i know a jealous man when i see one. She holds me because it helps me relax, not because she is in love with me. Don't even try to deny it. I know what it feels to love her, but you know what it feels like to be loved by her. If anyone has the right to be jealous, it's me. Don't screw this up, man. See ya. "

Before Bucky even had the chance to process what Chris had said, he turned and ran the other way.

Walking into your room you felt oddly nervous. You didn't even know it but you've made the man you love, a man in doubt.

He now questioned your love and you did not even notice. Sure you saw a bit of sadness but regarded it as him simply missing you.

Not a man heartbroken and riddled with insecurities. He probably hasn't even slept right and you didn't see it.

There was no reason for your fear, the room was empty, no Bucky in sight. Footsteps in the hallway made you turn around. Walking out of the room you followed the footsteps into the hallway, outside your apartment, down the stairs and only when you were outside did you catch the glimpse of the man of our.

Gathering enough courage you called out Bucky who at the sound of your voice turned and froze.

The tension was high, you could feel it in the air as you stared at one another.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak not even knowing what to say Bucky crossed the distance, grabbed you by the back of your neck and kissed you.

It only took you a second to respond, the kiss was desperate, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, while hands roamed all over, pulling, squeezing.

Pulling away for air you kept your eyes closed. "Tell me you love me." Pleaded Bucky, making you feel even more guilty.

Opening your eyes your hands sneaked themselves around his neck pulling until your forehead touched his own.

"I'm not sure about a lot of things Bucky. But there is one thing i am sure about and that is that i love you, James Buchanan Barnes, i love you and i always will. I'm sorry i ever made you doubt my love. "

"No, i am the one that's sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you in the first place. I got so stuck in my own head. I'm sorry. I love you so much, doll."

"I love you. Let's just forget about it and agree that from now on we will talk about this things. No holding back. "

"You're right. From now, we talk. But please be patient with me. And do me a favor, will you."

"Anything."

"Don't quit on me. I know it can be hard to be with me sometimes, but I love you as much it is possible for this broken man to love. "

"You're not broken, just bent. And don't act like I'm a walk in the park, i know i can be frustrating. But this is a relationship, we work together, we compromise, we fight, we make love. We don't quit on each other, we fight for us."

"I love you."

"And i love you."

[austenpoppy]

Unpopular - or very rare - opinions about Ron, even for a Ron-lover or a Romione-lover

I am quite a strange person, because I have the impression that no one agrees with what will follow. I won't even list the obvious, since I think most of the people who will read this are Ron-lovers like me.

I am not going to explain everything in details, mostly because I will post some comments and analysis to do so... soon ;) !

1. I am glad Ron dated Lavender, and I am slightly unnerved every time I read that he has been a "prat" in sixth year. Why ?

Because of double standarts, people.

Why is it okay for a girl to want to feel good about herself, to feel special, to be assured that she can achieve things and look good, and not for a boy ?

Feeling okay with oneself is a very important part of one's teenage years. My mum, as a teacher, often talks to pupils who loathes themselves (I have no right to spill their secrets here, but I hope everyone understands)... and that is heartbreaking.

Ron reminds me of them.

Ron dated Lavender at a moment in his life when he thought he was "pathetic", when he thought the girl he loved thought him pathetic too (and he had reasons for thinking so...) when one of his teachers was unable to remember his name and kept looking through him as if he didn't exist while lavishing praise on his best friends and sister, when nobody except Lavander told him he was worth something, when his own team hated him, when his sister had humiliated him, when everyone was looking at Harry in awe, when he had just got scarred for life (scars oddly reminding me of cutting) and had lived through a traumatic event, when nobody except Lavender was doting on him, when nobody seemed to care about him but her.

It did not solve everything. Ron is extremely prone to self-hatred, and I don't believe it ever disappeared after the locket. But for once in his life, Ron actually felt good about himself for a while.

It is not that he did not care about Lavender's feelings. Not at all. Just see the way he felt when they broke, extremely guilty about having made her cry. She fancied him, he appreciated her and he was trying to get over Hermione. (and realised he couldn't, but that is another story...) Why would dating her be wrong ? He did not use her. He did not manipulate her. He appreciated her.

Why would that be wrong, although Hermione and Ginny did the exact same thing ?

I am all for Hermione when she dated Krum at the Yull Ball and Ron tried to guilt her over it, and she yelled at him (even if it I don't want to imagine Ron's feelings the night after, crying himself to sleep because "he would never be good enough for her"... Yeah, Schopenhauer was right: you only fully realise how much something is important once you lost it - or think you lost it). It was important for her to realise that she was not just a "bookworm", but a person who had just as everybody the right to feel desirable, and special.

Ginny dated other guys than Harry, and she was fully aware she had absolutely no feelings towards them (see Dumbledore's funeral) and ... ? She was trying to be herself, to get over Harry. She did not use guys, she genuinely appreciated them and it was important for her. It helped her becoming the person she became.

It was important for Ron too, and I wish people saw that.

2. I don't blame Ron for leaving in DH. It is not that I am cutting him slack, or that I just forgave him. It is more than that. I am admirative.

I think, and this is something I will defend to death after some research I made, that Ron has been mentally tortured by the locket.

Yes, I repeat it, tortured. This is not a hyperbole.

Note that I don't blame Harry or Hermione for the fight. They were manipulated - not tortured yet. The only one I blame is the locket

People don't realise that things could have gone horribly wrong. Under torture, people are led to do awful things. And that cannot be judged. Their pain is so huge they are not in their right mind.

When Ron faced his torturer again after he left, in a state of mental exhaustion, terror and anguish, for another mental torture session, he went very close to possession -actually he has been possessed one moment - and he could have killed Harry. That was exactly what Voldemort wanted : killing the Boy-who-lived by all means, weakening him, destroying the Trio.

It is out of sheer courage and thanks to his golden heart that Ron resisted torture and possession.

Wow indeed.

It could have been another way : with all the self-loathing stuff he always thought being repeated over and over again, he could have committed suicide. I think he could have attempted to do it if he had not left, but this is Ron who never gives up we're talking about, so who knows ?

3. Ron is not insensitive at all. It is the other way around.

Another thing I am ready to die defending it

We have a problem of vocabulary : being insensitive means that you don't care about others' feelings, that you don't feel empathy for others, or that you don't feel empathy at all. Sociopaths are often insensitive.

So... Ron, according to this definition, insensitive ???

I think it would be better if people just said that he was tactless sometimes.

4. Ron is not carefree. An optimist, yes, a boy trying to see the fun in life, yes, often immature, yes, sometimes insensible, yes...

But carefree ? No.

Look at the way he is often very anxious, the way he feels so very strong feelings, the fact that he is overly emotional, the fact that he worries so much.

The emotional range of a teaspoon, my arse.

Ron is a mix of raw emotion, passion, fire, and sunshine, wind and freedom.

5. Ron is romantic.

I see you laughing in a corner, because really, Ron, who had so much problems with dealing with girls, romantic ?

Well, being romantic means that you have idealistic ideas about love (I know what I'm talking about).

And look at Ron, squealing with delight on the floor when Harry received his first kiss, getting desperate when he learnt that Hermione had given het first kiss to another, playing matchmaker (this SCENE at the end of OOTP), grunting because "he thought that (Ginny) had a crush on Harry...", being ready to commit himself to love for eternity at seventeen...

6. Ron was not "the prat who walked out on Harry out of jealousy" in fourth year.

Both boys were to blame here. And acted out of a feeling of betrayal.

Better even : Ron first tried to swallow his bitterness.

7. Ron was not that prejudiced towards giants, house-elves and werewolves

Giants : what did he say ?

That they were violent and "awful", because they were killing one another.

Well, look at what Hagrid, a half-giant, says about it (conversation after his return in OOTP)

House-elves : what did he say ?

--> that they didn't want to be freed : apart from Dobby, whom he respected very much, he was right

--> that they loved doing what they did : once again he was right

--> that they were not human beings, and that you could not talk to them the same way : he was both right and wrong. You have to consider them as equals, and if you don't see them as human beings, you can be prone to forget it; however, house-elves are another species with other needs and expectations; and you have to be careful about what you say to them and the way you say it (house-elves are much more naive, innocent and emotional)

Werewolves : what did he say for people to think that ?

--> the "get away from me, werewolf !"

Ah, the hypocrisy. Let me remind you of something :

"'NO!' Hermione screamed, 'Harry, don't trust him, ge's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead - he's a werewolf !"'

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling

But people, think about it one second : these circumstances were NOT normal. They were hurt and TERRIFIED teenagers who had just seen one of their teachers hug and being really friendly with a seemingly mass murderer. They felt betrayed.

Imagine if Sirius had been a mass murderer : Lupin would have been like Greyback, who identifies himself as a werewolf and as a beast.

Ron and Hermione did not really think what they said. They were just TERRIFIED.

--> the "Dumbledore hired you, he's crazy"

Same thing.

It is crazy to expect perfection from terrified and feeling-like betrayed teenagers.

8. Ron does not lust much after other girls

I won't count Fleur, because the state he was in when he was seeing her was only due to her Veela-abilities (and let's face it -Harry too was influenced by it - just look at the way he described her when she entered his room at the beginning of HPB; Ron was just more sensitive to it)

He had a cute crush (oh god I hate this word) on Mrs Rosmerta.

He found Lavender nice, but did not lust after her.

And...?

That's all.

Full stop.

9. Ron's Boggart is not a spider

It may have been the case in the first books, but not in the last ones.

Otherwise let's assume that Parvati's Boggart will always be a mummy, that Seamus's will always be a banshee and that Dean's will always be a severed hand...

Nope. People grow and change, and their fears too.

I think that Ron's Boggart, once OOTP ends, has most likely been a dead or hurt Hermione that he had not been able to save, or a locketlike vision.

10. Ron is not so relatable and ordinary.

Well, maybe he is relatable for the way he feels inadequate, and his tendency to self-hatred reminds probably some people of their own struggle.

The fact that we can read him like an open book is perhaps relatable as well.

His arachnophobia ?

Maybe his bad luck.

But I never thought him ordinary. Or else being ordinary has never been so extraordinary.

The day you find a boy who is ready to die for others and to sacrifice himself at the age of twelve, call me.

The day you find somebody who is arachnophobic and is ready to follow spiders into a dark forest without complaining and even trying to appear enthusiastic, call me.

The day you find a fourteen-years old with a bitten arm and a broken leg, and standing on it without complaining once to tell somebody everyone thinks is a mass murderer and that he had seen with a knive above his bed some months ago, "If you want to kill my best friend, you'll have to kill me too", call me.

The day you find a boy who begs to be tortured instead of the person he loves and who is ready to give up everything he is for her or him, call me.

The day you find somebody who defies a dictator and a murderer when all hope is lost, call me.

And then I dare you to tell me they're ordinary.

I am sure some people imagine that I think Ron has no flaws, mostly because the things people blame him for are things I am often glad he did.

That is not true.

But the things I criticize Ron about are often smaller : imitating Hermione in Charms in HPB, his comment about Neville to feel better about himself before asking Hermione to the ball, his comment during a party during the Scabbers/Crookshanks fight...

However, I do worship Ron to the stars.

And I am proud of it.