#What he did to moon and himself is still horrible

[bitkahuna]

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but it won’t work.” He wanted to be firm, but he wasn’t sure he has the strength he needed. Fighting was hard. Weakness was easy.

Thranduil smiled, a soft curve of his lips that did not reach his eyes but still managed to seem sincere. "Oh, but Master Baggins, I am merely expressing my admiration. There is no artifice here." He leaned closer, the scent of pine and age-old wisdom enveloping Bilbo like a cloak. “You see, Master Baggins, in you, I see what so many of us have lost over the endless years: passion for life. A genuine joy. Appreciation of those little and quiet moments. I find you compelling.”

Bilbo’s breathing picked up. This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. While the dwarves could give him everything he never knew he wanted, there was something horrifyingly familiar in this moment. It was the romance and seduction Bilbo had always read about. Always dreamed of. The tender words and blurry mornings that led to messy beds. Yavanna help him, he didn’t want to say no. More than anything, he wanted to allow himself this. It was so perfect. So real. He could reach out and touch it. It could touch him. But a single touch, he knew, would end him.

“The words you speak to me, I’ve only ever read.” His heart lurched as he fought to keep it within his chest. Would he really choose this? Would he choose impending violence and a cold mountain over the warmth of this bright morning?

He could bargain, no doubt. Offer his body, his mind, his soul, his spirit, one or all to the elf king in exchange for his friends’ release. Tell them the bargain required him to stay behind and wish them well. Forget it all. Stay here. Lay back in the comfy haze and let the king do as he pleased.

“Which is precisely why I cannot let this continue.”

Rather than offense, more than anything, the king was curious.

“This is everything a hobbit could ever dream of. And I do not doubt that I intrigue you in the way you say. But just because I look a young fool does not mean I am one.” He shook his head. “This isn’t real. You want what you’ve lost because you cannot accept what you have. I would never be that for you, because I do not hate you enough to trap you in your past.” Bilbo stood in rejection of the sun.

———

The chambers were silent. Every hobbit in each room was sat before Bilbo, bated breath, as one of their own rejected an elf king.

“How could you?” Someone whispered, horrified.

Bilbo tried to smile, but it was flat. Tears threatened his eyes. His heart swelled. All he could think of was Thorin’s face in the moonlight. “I cannot explain.”

Bilbo would sit there, lost. Wondering. He could have had it all. He could have had so much. Yet that stinking dwarf in the dungeon, with his promise of a dragon's fire and a vague notion of a crown, kept him rooted in the ground in such a way that the sunlight’s haze would never have been able to take him. He was the cool glow of the moon.

Something weighed deep in Bilbo, and he took another sip of alcohol flavored with raspberries.

Was he mourning?

What did he mourn?

Why did he ache to think of Thorin when the man was only down the hall, perfectly safe and happy to be with him?

Or was it the end that never was? The haunting possibility that Bilbo could have made the wrong choice. He could have chosen to stay, and lost the dwarf forever. It was that very thought, he realized, that made him mourn for some version of himself that couldn’t have what he did now.

But the tears didn’t fall from his eyes until they landed on Mirabella Brandybuck. A spry and wise woman of nearly seventy, still appearing as in her late-middle age, as all elder hobbits do. She looked beautiful and radiant. But there was a sadness in her eyes. A knowing.

She lost her dwarf decades ago. Bilbo had his.

In that moment of brief eye contact, they both knew.

He sat by her, and she took his hands in her own.

“You know, Bilbo. I see the way that dwarf king eyes you.” She muttered, wanting to keep this between themselves. “I understand the choices you made.”

His lower lip trembled at the deep sadness within her voice.

“I had my own husband, my own children.” She trailed off as she fought back her shame. “And I did love him. My husband was a dear man, and he will always be in my heart.” She covered her reddening face with one fist, not wanting to show her sadness. Her hate. Her mourning. Was she truly allowed to love another man after her husband passed? They were only gifted ten years together before he passed in Fell Winter, and she was left with a small horde of cold fauntlings. “My children are my truest love.” She nodded firmly, calming herself despite the way her heart sank in its disgrace. “But I fear I’ve fallen in love with a ghost.” She shook her head. “He’s likely passed on as well.”

“Do you regret not chasing him?”

“No. Never.” She didn’t hesitate even a moment. “The children I had with Gorbadoc Brandybuck are the greatest joy I have ever known. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Mirabella let a small smile come about her. “But, that charming dwarf.” Her eyes closed a moment, letting the tears fall so she could quickly wipe them away. “He may always haunt me as the greatest what-if of my life. I only hope I was able to haunt him the same.”

And so it was that they would both mourn for things that never were.

———

It was literally supposed to be a funny chapter about Bilbo telling the other hobbits about how Thranduil had hit on him to get him to admit why the dwarves were passing through Mirkwood but I wrote something else instead.

[fishluring]

so in Arti's campaign, giving pebbles the garbage wastes pearl, he mentions "it [the illegal experiment] was taking too long" and "I didn't think she would--[collapse/die/etc]"

In what world did he even consider that slurping up aaalll the water wouldn't result in a catastrophic failure for Moon??? It might've taken ages to complete without murdering Moon, but surely the results would've been much better than 1 collapsed and 1 rotting iterator. It would've been different if he were a solo iterator, but he was not.

oh boy oh boy I do have some thoughts on this so Im gonna use this as an excuse to ramble a bit under the read more <3

Tbh I think he was just extremely desperate!

When you bring a neuron to moon she comments how the inability to fullfill the task given to the iterators drove many to madness. We dont know how long its been since the ancients left. It could have been hundreds or thousands (if not more) years, or whatever their equivalent to years is. No matter how logical or smart the iterators are, that time spent frustrated and angry and in pain is enough to cloud anyones judgement, I think.

And iterators arent just perfect logic machines, they can be led by emotions instead of the facts they know. We see this with suns sending pebbles the pearl despite knowing he would be too desperate to be careful with the experiment, and with moon not stopping pebbles even though she knew the danger she was in.

So maybe pebbles did know it would damage her, but hoped despite that, that if he was just fast enough the damage wouldn't be too big. Maybe he wanted to trust his mentor that they wouldn't send him information on how to make an experiment that could damage or even kill him or his sister.

And this is very much just my own interpretation, but maybe he didn't even register correctly that another iterator, especially moon, could get so badly hurt. We know from moon that iterators dying pretty much never happens, sliver being the big exception. Moon has been there long before pebbles was alive. And even if the entire reason he was built was to help her recover, she still lived and continues to live despite her age and faulty machinery. She has been a constant in his life since the day he was created. Maybe part of him knows that there is no way he wont hurt her. But how easy is it to listen to that when faced with an existence thats defined by not being able to die. And the frustration that comes with that.

I think the thought of finally being able to find a way out of a existence they were most likely programmed to despise, not only for himself but for others as well, made it hard for him to think about the consequences. Being so close to a solution after all this time, maybe he couldnt wait any longer. Or maybe he did just use 100% of his big smart brain to be the stupidest motherfucker alive. Who am I to say

[theladyfae]

i think human nature/family of blood is a really good two parter in how it manages to show how full of shit ten is 🫶

[logansdoll]

jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

[pirateprincessblog]

Killer Eyes

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.

check out sequel HERE

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.

song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.

mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.

he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.

"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.

nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.

loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.

"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"

at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.

the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.

"stand up."

the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.

"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.

he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.

"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.

he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.

"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.

the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.

"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.

"excuse me, what is going on here?"

a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.

"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."

"that man needs help!"

"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."

"help"

his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.

"i'm calling help, mr barnes."

"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."

mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.

you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.

you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?

"i want a patient change."

"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.

"he's a human before everything, sir."

the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.

"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"

"i'm just a doctor–"

"���s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."

"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.

"then act like it."

he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.

"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.

at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.

"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"

you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.

"understood?!"

"yes, yes–"

your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.

"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."

"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."

"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."

"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."

"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.

"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.

you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.

"dismissed."

days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.

a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.

what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.

you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.

your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.

your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.

PRISONER INFO

name: mingi song

record id: ##############

nationality: korean 

gender: male

citizen: yes

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

dob: 09081999

age: 24

height: 183 cm

weight: 75 kg

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO

date: 25122022

charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence

summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.

you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.

the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.

"jeong office."

"i'll need you to cover for me today."

"doctor?"

"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."

it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.

"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."

"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."

"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.

you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.

you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.

"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.

they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.

"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."

"no, sit on mine!"

"i'd rather her sit between my legs."

"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"

you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.

you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.

"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.

"what is it, elijah?"

the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.

"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."

and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.

"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.

he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.

"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."

he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.

"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.

you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.

"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"

you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.

"imagine how it hurts me."

you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.

"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"

"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."

"the source of my pain, doctor. please."

your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.

"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"

"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."

you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.

he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.

"mr song?"

"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."

he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.

"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."

"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.

at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.

"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"

"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."

"mingi," he exhales.

"i'm not supposed to-"

"please."

you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?

"okay, mingi."

his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.

"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.

"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"

"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."

he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.

"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"

"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."

your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.

"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.

he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.

"mingi, you will have to let me go."

"just a bit more, please."

"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."

the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.

"lift your shirt up for me, please?"

he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.

you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.

you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.

"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"

"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.

he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.

"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.

he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.

"you're pretty." he blurts out.

"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.

"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.

"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.

"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."

you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.

"oh, god. what is this?"

"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.

"a belt?!"

"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."

"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.

you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.

"and what about this? does this hurt-?"

"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.

your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.

"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."

"x-ray? what could it be?"

"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."

he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.

"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.

"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."

your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.

"are you eating properly?"

he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.

"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."

"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.

he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.

"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.

"nothing."

"you can tell me." you push.

the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.

"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.

"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.

his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.

"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."

you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.

"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.

a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.

the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.

"good morning, mingi."

he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.

"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.

"good morn–"

slap. 

mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.

"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"

the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.

"did I make myself clear?!"

"yes, yes! perfectly clear."

mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.

"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.

his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.

"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."

you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.

a good boy.

he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.

"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"

he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.

he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.

"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."

but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.

you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.

in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.

he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.

he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.

your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.

his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.

he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.

"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.

"shut the hell up."

the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.

"that lip cut looks new." you comment.

"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.

"cole?"

"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.

"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"

"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.

"okay."

mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.

"here's your medication."

you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.

"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.

"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.

"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.

the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.

"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.

"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.

"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.

"canteen?"

"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."

and with another smile, you are gone.

canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.

the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.

"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."

"okay," he finally agrees.

he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.

with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?

"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.

the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.

he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.

"well, well. lookie here."

three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.

"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.

"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.

"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.

"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.

they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?

"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.

"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"

"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"

"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.

"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."

the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.

jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.

"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"

"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."

"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."

"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."

"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."

mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.

"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"

"i'd rather her give me a head."

"i heard she's a virgin."

"aw, i get to be her first and last!"

mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.

one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat. 

"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.

mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.

"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.

"what the fuck?!"

"oh my god!"

"who let him in here?"

"run!"

"get dr rachel!"

his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.

he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is  slowly turning red.

"safe..." he whispers.

jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.

"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.

"safe from what, mingi?"

"i'll keep you safe."

his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.

"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"

dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.

"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."

"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.

"mr jeong?" she searches for support.

but he remains silent.

"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"

"shut up."

"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."

"shut up."

"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."

"shut up."

"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.

"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.

"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"

your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.

you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.

"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."

and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.

"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.

days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.

you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?

"doctor?"

you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.

"how is he?" you ask before thinking.

elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.

"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."

"how are his injuries? anything new?"

"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."

you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.

"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.

"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."

"i need to see him."

"no."

"make it happen, please. please, elijah."

"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."

you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."

elijah exhales. "fine."

at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.

hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.

you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.

"mingi," you call in a whisper.

his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.

"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.

"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."

"well, i'm not."

you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.

"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"

when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.

"i'm sorry," you choke out.

you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.

"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."

his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.

"can i? please?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.

"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."

"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."

"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."

a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.

"barnes! care for a drink?"

"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."

"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."

"you paying?"

"sure am."

"then what the fuck we waiting for?"

the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.

"my savior,"  he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.

"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"

mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.

sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."

"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.

his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.

"so it's true."

"what is?"

"you're a virgin."

"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"

"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."

oh. oh.

"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."

"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."

the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.

"don't be a brat. i came to see you."

"and you did. i'm fine. now go."

"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"

"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."

"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."

he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.

mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."

"maybe i want to be hurt."

"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."

your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.

"i'd break you."

you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.

"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.

"and if you regret it?"

"i'll get over it."

with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.

"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.

"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."

"touch me more. i need more."

the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.

he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.

"should i take it off?"

"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."

"but won't it be difficult?"

"let me do the worrying. you just relax."

with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.

"stay still for me, princess."

a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.

"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."

"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"

"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal. 

and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.

he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.

"does it hurt, doctor?"

"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.

"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."

his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.

"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.

"why?"

"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.

"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."

his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.

"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."

your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.

"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.

tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.

"forgive me."

"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.

"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."

his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.

"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."

you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.

"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."

then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.

"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."

"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.

"can i stuff you full of my cum?"

"you can, please."

"are you on any pills?"

"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."

mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.

"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."

"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."

"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."

"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."

"i want you all to myself."

he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.

"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."

"your cunt was shaped for me."

"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."

"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."

"and nobody will touch me, except you."

"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."

he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.

"cream all over my cock, princess. please."

he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.

"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."

you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.

"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."

your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.

jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.

my saviour, the young prisoner said.

yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.

[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[euhla]

Stay with me (please) 𝜗𝜚. AVENTURINE

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. MDNI, smut, fem!reader, slight angst, poorly written smut, trauma (aventurine’s backstory), insecurity, fluff, friend w benefits, marking, bitting, dom/sub, soft dom, praise kink, p in v, creampie, soft sx, unprotected sx, dacryphilia, nipple play, pet names; baby, actually no plot ּ ֶָ֢. ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. a/n : aventurine is the first character for my actual smut🙏 AND i’m trying to write smut and this is my HORRIBLE first experiment. anw, english is not my first language ! please forgive me if there’s any mistakes ^___0 (AGAIN, poorly written)

Bare skin without the slightest cloth touching each other on a night where the moon shines at its peak. The inaudible of the surrounding nature made the screams of pleasure could be heard clearly. And poor for those who hear that despicable voices.

It all feels like a fortnight ago; the first time two strangers met each other again—you were brought together by fate that bound you like a chain. Aventurine

As fellow members working under the IPC, you both have only met once before. Maybe it's because of the invisible wall—the caste that separates the two of you. He’s one of the Ten Stonehearts, while you’re merely a subordinate who obeys their superior.

In a corner of the magnificent city of Penacony, in a casino, a gathering place for people with enough wealth to make them confident of winning consecutively. The two of you meet again for the second time.

And it was clear from the first night; disguised under pretext of getting money and all of Aventurine's wealth, you actually just want to keep looking at his figure that always looks majestic and charming. Without doing anything, he will always be the center of attention.

The way his hands find the part that gives you pleasure, the way the praises he whispers to you always invites butterflies in your stomach. Everything he does feels like a blessing to you.

“Hah—“ You whimpered in between the pleasures. You feel overwhelmed by what he is doing to you; his hips moved back and forth in a pattern, His left hand moved to where it belongs—your breasts. He squeezed them, playing with your nipples as if they were toys. While his right hand covered his own mouth, to limit the sounds that came out of his mouth for the sake of his pride.

Without you realizing it, your tears start to fall. Whether because of pleasure or pain. And somewhere, inside you, something twitches. It’s Aventurine’s. He's aroused... of your crying?

You slowly opened your eyes. Your vision was a little blurry from tears, and you blinked several times to be able to see Aventurine. He's flustered, and you too.

“Ah.. i–“ He felt a little humiliated, being aroused by your crying. His hips almost stopped moving from the shock, and you protest about it.

“Hah… i- it’s okay,” You try to calm him down. Your shaking hand rose to cup his cheek. it’s okay

Once he regained his composure, he whisper in your ear, “mngh—you did so well for me, baby.”

After saying that, his lips immediately kissed the curve of your neck. Leaving marks that will disappear when morning comes. And he will remind you to wear a scarf or something that can cover it

This time his neck formed a beautiful curve while his head leaned back slightly, his mouth opened to let out a moan. This means his days are tiring

And the next thing you know, a warm feeling enters your womb. Aventurine just remained silent without any intention of pulling out.

You don't care what you look like now. The most important thing now is to calm Aventurine.

“Is everything okay?” One of your hands was in his hair, stroking it in an attempt to calm him down. “Something’s bothering you?” You asked again.

Reticence. Something enveloped the two of you. You still stroked his hair, even though the answer never came.

Of course he didn't answer you. Deep in his mind, only apprehension ran free. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed of the slave mark that would always be on his neck. Accompanying him every step he takes, while reminding him who he really is. Who is nothing more or less than a slave.

The wound was old, but it still remained and felt fresh as if it had just been carved. And somewhere, in the depths of his mind, there was a great desire that was forced to hide; but i want to live, not just survive.

How does it feel to feel the sun's rays hitting your face without remembering your own past? How does it feel to be able to sleep soundly on a planet in this universe without fear of nightmares? Aventurine just wants to experience the beauty of life without hurting other people.

The remaining human feeling in his heart wants to reach you, wants to prevent you from leaving him. His mouth wanted to say three sacred words, but his heart told him to remain silent.

Will you still be willing to stay until I can accept everything?

[imtryingbuck]

Unwanted pt two

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!fem!Reader

Summary: having a mate but you not being theirs is rare, very rare. Y/n is that unfortunate omega. Could she still find love and happiness?

Word count: 5,128

Warnings: angst. unrequited love. Omegaverse. swearing. homeless reader. money issues. Steve’s a bit of a dick. fluff. 

Part 1

Masterlist

He watched as her body got smaller and smaller as she made her way through the crowd until he couldn’t see her anymore or even catch her scent carrying in the wind.

As he made his way back to the tower all he could think about was her, his mate that couldn't possibly be his mate, he knew that they only get one mate in their lifetime and he already had his. Due to what Hydra did to him he know longer remembered what his mate smelt like or felt or how she sounded, and for the longest time he couldn’t even remember what the feeling felt like when he first laid eyes on his mate but then he met Y/n, then he felt it, the tingly yet burning sensation coursing through his whole body, the way his brain turned to mush as she stood in front of him, the overwhelming need to protect her and show her that he would be the best Alpha.

The sun had long gone down as Bucky stared at himself in the mirror, his shirt off and his eyes burned a hole in his scars where flesh meets metal, it wasn’t often that he would look at himself in the mirror but when he did he would silently call himself horrible names, yet tonight he was wondering how Y/n would react to them, would she be disgusted? would she run away and never want to talk to him again? or would she be kind? tell him pretty lies about how the scars are beautiful?

Having had enough of seeing his reflection, he threw on a shirt and made his way to the gym as sleeping was the last thing on his mind, he lost track of time as he took all his frustration out on the punching bag.

"Buck? Hey what are you doing in the gym at... three in the morning? Bucky?"

Steves voice startled him. “Shit sorry, what did you say?" Even when the blond repeats his question Bucky doesn't register his words, his mind was still on Y/n and everything that came with her. Her smile was embedded within in mind, the slight bounce she had when she was waiting for the shop owner to come behind the counter to get the trolley off her, her laugh, her eyes, her nose, her lips... just her. She had completely consumed his every thought the moment he laid eyes on her and spending the day by her side didn't help either. "I think I found my mate" unceremoniously cutting his best friend off, Bucky frowned at waiting for some form of response.

"Buck, Dot was your mate and she's gone.”

"I know okay I do but-but this girl I mean she's taken over my mind man!"

Steve lips pulled sideways as he nibbled on his inner cheek trying to think of the best way to respond to his best friend. "We only get one mate and sadly ours are gone, I wish we had that chance in this life but it doesn't happen like that.”

"B-but what if the moon goddess was wrong? Or what if Sharon's your ma-"

"Don't be ridiculous Buck." Steve barked out a laugh. "She's just someone I'm sleeping with.”

"She doesn't think that..."

"She knows that.”

"No she doesn't and you know that, she actually believes you're mates and that's why she's always begging you to bond with her.”

"Look, what's between me and Sharon or all the other women I'm seeing has nothing to do with you.” The blond snapped.

Rolling his eyes he sighed. "I know and I'm not bothered about that but maybe this omega could be mine I might be luck-"

"Bucky there's no way that it could possibly happen okay. We only get one mate.”

He knew that, of course he knew that, but he wanted it to be wrong. "Peggy bonded with Dan-"

"Don't say his name James!” For the second time in five minutes Steve snapped at him. “He wasn't her mate they just bonded because they were both lonely.”

"But maybe, right?" He had to admit that he was embarrassed himself by hearing the desperation in his voice but he just couldn't help it. He wanted his longest friend, his confidant, the only person he trusted to run in to battle with without being told what or why they were fighting to tell him that maybe just maybe he was lucky enough to get a second chance at happiness. But seeing the bored expression on said man's face and the slow motion of his head shaking made Bucky's heart sink.

Of course out of the two of them he wasn't going to be the who got that happiness or that sense of completion that came with having a mate. He was the bad one, the assassin, the former Winter Soldier and Steve was the good one, the one who jumped on a grenade at boot camp, Americas golden boy.

Wishful thinking that he could be lucky.

"You should tell Sharon that your just stringing her on before it's too late." he mumbled before leaving the gym going to his room and having a shower, getting into his bed once cleaned and dried.

Finally falling to sleep he allowed himself to dream of the woman who he wished he was lucky enough to call his mate.

At the end of every month Y/n went to all of her jobs and waited patiently to be paid, smiling thankfully, saying her thanks before doing her job. Finishing her last job of that day she sat in an empty alleyway counting the money she made from that month, she sighed at seeing how little she had left after paying Bucky back for the meal and a little extra for his help with her paper rounds.

She knew that he said he wasn't expecting or wanting anything in return but she didn't want him thinking that she was using him. He didn't need to be worrying about her or wasting his money on her, she wasn't anything to him, she wasn't his responsibility or omega. She was no one. A nobody in the eyes of the world.

And that's how it had been for most of her life.

Making her way to the hotel knowing that Jenny was on, she ran in to ask for an envelope she placed the money inside before running back out the building and made the trek to the tower making herself smaller and less visible to the crowd around her.

Finding herself finally outside the doors of the tower she slid her shoes off ignoring the questioning looks she got from those around her she made her way over to the reception desk. "H-hi, can you pass o-or make sure that Mr Bucky gets this, please?"

"Sure or you could take-" Y/n cuts off the young woman sitting just behind the large welcome sign.

"No. Sorry, c-can you just do it please?"

"Okay, sure I'll make sure he gets it."

"T-thank you"

"Do you want to leave your name?"

"No, thank you. Bye"

Rushing back out as the judgemental stares got too much for her, she made her way back to the alleyway she had been calling home for the last few nights.

Bucky was sat listening to Sam's rambling about something he wasn't paying attention to when a soft voice called his name from the doorway to the common room. "Yeah?"

"I was asked to bring this to you" she said handing over the envelope before nodding politely and leaving.

"What is it?" Sam questions eying the envelope.

"I don't know" his frown deepens when he pulls open the top flap and sees money. No note to suggest who had sent it. "It's-" and that's when it hits him. His - not his - omega had not only come to the tower where he was but had also paid him back even when he told her he didn't expect anything back.

"It's what?"

"N-nothing, be back in a minute" Sam sat puzzled but shrugged and turned his attention to the screen trying to figure out what was happening in the scene.

Bucky rushed down the stairs as the elevator was taking too long for his liking, stepping out into the lobby his insides tingled with excitement and familiarity when he caught the remnants of her scent still lingering the air. He knew it was a long shot when he looked outside in hopes of finding her still at the compound but he still went and checked. He headed straight to the hotel where she worked out in hopes of finding her there.

"Hello welcome to the Kingsmill Hotel how many hours or days do you-"

"Do you know Y/n?" He interrupted the beta sitting behind the desk filling in a crossword puzzle, looking rather bored as she did so.

Jenny's head snapped up at hearing her friends name coming from a strangers mouth. "How do you know her?”

"We met at the tower-"

"She really was there?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. What do you want with Y/n?"

"She gave me some money when I told her I didn't want it"

"Right" Jenny said slowly.

"And I would like to give it back to her, is she working?"

"No." Checking the time on her watch "she'll be finished with her jobs for the day, it's Thursday isn't it? She'll be in the alleyway between Smiths and that bike shop, do you know the one?"

"Yeah, yeah I think so.”

"She'll be there for the night.”

"Okay, thank you" his knuckles taps against the desk in two quick successions making his way to the sliding doors when his name was called behind him. "Yeah?"

"Be good to her, please" Bucky's feet falter slightly hearing her words, he manages to nod his head giving her a half smile and leaves.

Pulling out the dinted tin of baked beans from her dark green backpack that probably only had a few more months to a year left in it until it would finally make its way into the dustbin, she opened the lid with a sigh at the idea of having to have cold baked beans once again but she couldn't exactly waste her money on a warm meal. She needed all the money she had.

Wiping down the plastic spoon she had, she begin to dig in when she smelt the familiar scent coming from down the end of the alley.

"Y/n?" Bucky's soft voice sounded as his footsteps grew closer.

"Bucky? Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I told you that I didn't want anything in return, so please take this back.” He said as he handed over the envelope. "Please take it back Y/n.”

"I can't.”

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm not your responsibility.”

"What?” Yes she was right, she wasn’t, much to his disappointment. “Y/n please stop being a pain in my ass and take the money.”

"Fine!" Taking back the envelope with a huff, stuffing it in her backpack.

"Now come on, you're coming with me.”

"Excuse me? No I'm no-"

"You are, there's plenty of room in the tower and Tony wouldn't care.”

"I-I can't. Okay I can't, I'm fine where I am.”

Bucky sighs at how stubborn she's being, first the money and now refusing to let him give her a roof over her head, a warm soft bed to sleep in and hot food in her belly even if it was only just for a few nights and then him trying to convince her to stay longer after that. Crouching down to her level, putting his left hand on the ground so he didn't fall. "Why can't you?"

"It-it doesn't matter."

"Please Y/n, let me help you please.” He practically begged.

"Why? I'm a nobody. I'm not your friend. I'm not your omega. I'm nothing so why bother helping me? There's plenty of other lost souls out there if you're so desperate to help someone, go and help them!"

He frowned. He knew she was right about her not being his omega despite him wanting that fact to be true and she wasn't a nobody, she mattered to him and to Jenny. "I... why do you have to be so stubborn for?"

"Why do you?” It’s not the first time that he’s been asked why he’s stubborn, maybe that’s why she’s his mate. “Why can't you just let me be? I've been doing just fine on my own"

"You're homeless!" He snapped, instantly releasing a stuttering breath once he let those words slip out.

"Yeah because I was kicked out of my community because of your friend." She snaps back quickly. "Blond, blue eyes?" Y/n explains seeing his confused look.

"Steve? What's Steve got to do with this?"

"He's my alpha, but l'm not his omega so when I was sixteen I was kicked out of the community for being unloveable. Him and his beta will be at the tower right? So I can't-I just can't go there with you Bucky. Look I'm sorry for snapping at you l'm tired and hungry and I just wish to be left alone.”

That loud cracking sound wasn’t thunder, no it was his heart. Of course her mate is Steve, good ol’ Steve, the one that everyone loves and trusts, the one that can kick a woman out of his bed as soon as he’s finished and they come crawling back again when he wants them, the one who is sleeping with his dead mates niece. Of course her mate just has to be his best friend, his brother. Of course the Gods are punishing him for what he did, for what he had no control over, of course. Yet, just like she is, he’s stubborn so therefore he isn’t backing down so easily.

"I have an apartment you can stay at, it's not much but it's better than this alleyway or the tower. An-and before you say no, just know that I only stay there when Tony is being a dick with me, it's somewhere safe for you to stay and it's warm and you don't have to worry about payments or anything because Tony pays for all of the apartments and we don't have to pay him back.” He rambles, trying to say anything in hopes of convincing her to stay at the apartment he hardly stays at. 

"I... I can't-"

"You can, doll you can. It's either the apartment or the tower but it has to be one of them because I'm not leaving you here.”

Mulling over his proposal for a few minutes weighing out the pros and cons, yes it would nice to finally be out of the cold even if just for a day or two and the idea of being able to get a nice shower was very appealing but then she would be having to rely on Bucky once again, he's already helped her out twice - helping her with her paper rounds and then buying her some food - but this was too much, she would never be able to pay him back. "I-I can't Bucky, I'm okay I promise.”

"You’re not okay Y/n, it's getting colder at nights now.”

"I-Bucky I won't be able to pay you back.”

"I don't want you to pay me back, as long as you're safe that's all that matters to me."

"B-but... okay but only for a couple of days.”

"A couple of days" he repeated whilst trying to force the large smile off his face.

Showing her around the small place he was glad that he had brought some food for the place a few days before and cleaned up the takeaway boxes that he, Steve and Sam left from the weekend prior. He told her that she could sleep on the bed and that he had never slept in it before admitting he chose to sleep on the floor.

Y/n moved slowly around the apartment, the last time she stepped foot inside of one was two years ago when Jenny and Opal made her stay with them for a week when New York had a bad snow storm and even then she stayed in the corner of their apartment to scared to disturb or touch anything. "A-are you sure about this Bucky?"

"Of course I am.”

"What do you want in return?" She asked sceptically, even though he already told her he didn't want anything from her most alphas didn't do anything for omegas that wasn't theirs for free and especially not out of the goodness of their hearts.

"Just a friend, that's all.” His lips curved upwards just slightly.

"A friend? Nothing more, right?"

“Nothing more I promise. Plus you have all them deadly diseases so.” Both laughing at the reminder of her failed attempt to scare him away.

"Nasty ones remember!"

"Super deadly ones that you don't remember the names of.”

"That's very true.” Smiling softly at him she whispers. “But I-I would like to be your friend Bucky.”

After a couple of days of Y/n being at Bucky's apartment and him showing up both days just like she made him promise he would, a couple of days turned into a week, a week turned into two and now four months after that evening in the alleyway where he had begged her to come with him, they were both living together. Bucky 'moved' back in after Y/n said that the only way she would continue to live there is if he moved back in so obviously he agreed.

In those four months Bucky found himself excited to go home, home, he couldn’t recall the last time he ever called the place that or even if he ever did, but that’s what it was now, it once was cold and dull with the bare minimum of furniture then after two weeks of Y/n living there he went out and got everything they would need to make the place homely, even getting candles that reminded him of her scent.

They both took it in turns to care for the other at night when their sleep had been interrupted by nightmares, both embarrassed the first time it happened and woke up to find the other one sitting in front of them coaxing them to wake up and promising that everything was fine.

The first time Y/n saw Bucky’s scars he couldn’t tell whose cheeks were redder, his or hers, he’d gone on a run and when he came back he didn’t think twice when he removed his shirt as he made his way towards the bathroom, literally bumping into her as she was coming out of the room. He apologised profusely, worried that he had scared her in some way, whilst she tried so hard to tear her eyes away from his chest and abs, and became what he thought was a stuttering mess. He saw her eyes flick to his scars quickly but he saw no sign of disgust or pity, he couldn’t tell exactly or even if she had any thoughts of them.

One night around about two months into them living together he had gained the courage to ask her about how she came to be homeless, and to his surprise she told him. He sat there feeling all types of emotions, mainly anger, anger at the Gods for giving her a mate that wouldn’t be hers, anger at her father, anger at her community for kicking out a sixteen year old with nothing to her name and a poxy ‘good luck’. He listened to her every word as she retold the story of how she first met Steve, he wanted to be sick, he couldn’t fathom the feeling that she must of felt knowing that her mate had been right there, right there with another woman, a woman who to Bucky had nothing on Y/n.

On the same night she asked him if he had ever found his mate, and he found himself telling her everything from how he met her, her name, how the feeling felt when their souls connected, how she went to bed one night and passed away as she slept - he told her that he ran all the way to her home, waking up her parents and barging into the home and ran up the stairs to her bedroom, he was the one that found her, he felt their bond break and couldn’t understand why she would break it, but he knew, he knew that something wasn’t right, and so he ran, he ran as fast as he could despite being in agony which only got worse as he got closer to her home.

He didn’t know why, because it wasn’t like she asked, but that same night he kept talking, and telling her about Hydra and the things that they did to him and what he did for them. Trying so hard to explain that he didn’t want to do it but that he had no choice, he didn’t want her to hate him or to be scared of him. When she apologised, his heart stopped, he thought she was apologising and then going to say that she couldn’t live with him anymore, but she didn’t say that, no she apologised and gave him a hug which Bucky swore he was going to melt if she kept her arms around him any longer yet finding himself clinging to her when she tried to pull back.

Three months in, Y/n came home crying, the second Bucky heard her sniffling he dropped his phone on the floor and jumped up off the new and comfortable sofa he had recently brought and ran over to her watching as she struggled to get her shoes off. The feeling to protect her was overwhelming as he pulled her into his arms after he asked “who hurt you?” but she didn’t respond, she just fell into his strong chest and soaked his freshly cleaned shirt with her tears. After nearly twenty minutes she began to calm herself down and explained that she bumped into her oldest sister, they cried and held on to each other, her sister told her that their father had died and that their mum hadn’t stopped trying to find her, she told him that her sister had begged for her to come back to the community even if it was for a few hours so she could be reunited with their mum. Y/n explained that she couldn’t, and promised that they’d see each other again. Bucky just held her as she spoke, his heart aching for his omega, and when her words started to slur he picked her up and carried her to bed.

He sat on the sofa wondering what he could do to help his omega when her phone that Tony had brought her started ringing, answering it before his brain could even catch up with his actions. The next day he told Y/n that she wasn’t going to work and that she was finally having a much needed rest, he actually frowned as she just said “okay.” because normally she would argue with him. She had noticed that he kept checking his watch every couple of minutes before eyeing up the door, at eleven there was a soft knock at the door which Bucky told her to answer, and when she did her mum and sisters were standing there.

He watched as his omega was reunited with her family with a sense of pride and happiness, after introducing himself to them and getting them drinks he offered to leave them alone for a bit but found himself stuck when Y/n’s hand grabbed his and begged him to stay. He listened as Y/n told her family how she had been - noticing that she wasn’t telling the whole truth but he understood in a way why she didn’t, he laughed when her mum told him stories of a young Y/n - laughing more when he noticed her cheeks getting redder and redder.

When it was time for them to leave but not before promising that they would see each other again, Bucky was in the kitchen cleaning the dishes from dinner he turned around to find Y/n standing there pulling at the sleeve of her - his old - jumper, before he could say anything she ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his torso, thanking him for everything then standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his cheek.

He stood there for nearly half an hour with a dopey smile on his face.

"Doll can you get the door please?"

"Of course" opening the door she sees Steve and Sam standing there. "H-hi."

"Hey, is Bucky here?" Sam asks smiling.

"Yeah, come in. Bucky you've got visitors.”

Bucky pops his head around the corner and sees his friends, he notices the way Steve looks Y/n up and down and instantly hates it. He knows that Steve and Sharon haven't been seeing each other anymore since the latter walked in on him with an omega she introduced him to, having sex. And the worst part about it for him is that the real alpha to his doll is his best and oldest friend and the way said man is looking at her makes him want to attack him. "Hi guys."

"Hey. Hi pretty girl, I'm Steve" Steve greets Y/n, Sam's the only one that notices the twitch in the brunettes cheek.

"I know who you are.” She says with a hint of sarcasm in the voice, turning to the brunette she smiles causing his heart to squeeze. “Bucky I'm going to work, I'll see you later.”

Bucky bites on his bottom lip to stop him from smiling at her reaction to Steve's clear attempt at flirting. Instead of responding to her he nods and tells the guys to get comfortable before following Y/n outside in the hallway. "How are you? I know it can’t be easy to be around him.”

"He may have been my fated mate but he isn't my chosen one.” She shrugs as she pulls her new backpack that he brought her when her other one succumbed to its early death, up on to her shoulders.

"Oh… w-who is then?"

"You. See you later Bucky.”

It was only until she was outside where she realised what she had admitted. Her cheeks turning bright red instantly.

Kicking a stone lightly down the street she shook her head feeling stupid for what she had said, she had grown used to having a place to call home - a place with him, a place where she feels safe and comfortable and now she ruined it. She's ruined the only good thing she had in her life all becu- "Y/n! Doll! Y/n.” Turning around she sees Bucky running towards her. "D-did you mean that? Y-you really want me to be your chosen mate?"

"I-I'll move my stuff out toni-"

"No no no, did you mean it? Be-because you're mine.”

"R-really?"

"Yes, l've known since the day I met you in the tower.”

"You're my chosen mate Bucky, I don't feel anything for blon-“ Bucky cuts her off by pressing his soft plumb lips against hers. Both signing in content at the feeling of their lips connecting.

Reluctantly pulling away from her, he leans his forehead against hers both sharing shy smiles. "I'll see you after work, I'll pick you up and I'll do us dinner a-and we can watch a movie? How does that sound?"

"T-that will be perfect Bucky, I'll see you later.” Only leaving after Bucky kisses her one, two, three more times.

The two alphas smirk at the third when he gets back into the apartment that once was bare and cold turned into a full and warm home that he was proud to share with his omega, he has a love-struck expression on his face, and he doesn't even bat an eye at their teasing.

True to his word Bucky goes to pick her up from her from work where he shyly admits that he burnt the dinner he was trying to cook, he promised her that he would take her to a restaurant, he understood why she tensed up at the idea of going to a restaurant so he quickly says that maybe they could get a pizza instead.

And that's exactly what they did.

Sitting on the couch they laughed at what the actors on the screen were saying, the rain starting to come down heavily batting rhythmically off the windows, sharing delicious pizza - both thought that nothing could possibly make that night any better than it already was.

"Y/n...” He starts to say but finding him tongue tied when she looks up at him, taking a deep breath before whispering. “I-I love you, y-you don’t have to say it back if you d-don’t fe-“

"I love you too" she smiles up to him, and though his heart soared at hearing those words coming from her lips he couldn't help but chuckle.

"What?"

"You've got tomato sauce on your cheek.”

After the confession everyone noticed that Bucky had a skip in his step, he no longer gave people his infamous death stare, he was happier than they had ever seen him before. “Steve what’s up with him?” Nat whispered as the team watched Bucky help Wanda bake cookies.

“I… I don’t know.”

“It might be that omega we met.” Sam commented, watching in fascination as Bucky sang along with Wanda.

“What omega?” Tony asked.

“The one that was here at the tower, you know the one that Pepper chased after?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah I think so.”

Steve started chuckling softly and shook his head. “The last time I saw him this happy was when he met Dot, she was his mate.”

“But-“

“I know, I know.” The blond cut Nat off. “But he’s gotten lucky, he’s been given another chance at happiness.”

“If anyone deserves it, it’s him.” Tony mumbled. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Though if anyone tells him I said that I’ll just deny it.”

When the team met Y/n Bucky was nervous because Steve was going to be there, she reassured him that nothing or nobody was going to take her away from him, and she was right, she shook hands with the blond and felt absolutely nothing, she didn’t get that feeling or heard her insides screaming ‘mate’ as she walked into the room.

It wasn't long after that the team met the sole source of Bucky’s happiness that they both wore the mark on the left side of their necks showing the world that he was hers and she was his.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77 | @buckitostan | @casa-boiardi

[ryukzakiii]

distraction ⭑ l. lawliet (pt.2!)

part one here !

summary: now that the first move had been made, you start to realize just how badly L needs to be the best at anything he does, and how much he’s used to getting just what he wants.

pairing: l. lawliet x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), oral (f. receiving), voyeurism kinda, unprotected sex (wrap it up), praise ig, not really dom!L but he’s spoiled and gets what he wants, idk guys it’s nasty, fluff at the end :)

authors note: i got so carried away i cant edit it anymore just have at it and enjoy ya freaks!!

smut under the cut !!

after you and L first slept together that night in headquarters, his interest in you had grown exponentially. mainly because he couldn’t fully understand how somebody as beautiful and brilliant as you would ever be interested in somebody like him, but also because he had become fixated on learning everything there was to know about pleasing a woman. pleasing you.

every time the rest of the task force would leave for the night, he would take the opportunity to have you to himself almost immediately. as the nights went on, he grew more and more confident in what he was doing, being able to get you down on your knees in front of him just by speaking to you for a moment. his monotonous (yet somehow cocky) tone of voice alone drove you crazy.

as weeks became months, any little bit of hesitation he once had was smothered and he was just as sure of himself regarding you as he was regarding everything else; borderline too much.

that meant he began to want his needs to be met at any time he wished. like how he had sweets or drinks whenever he wanted, and anything he asked for he would always have post-haste, and it wasn’t like L to change his ways.

he would wait for everyone to leave the room, even just for ten minutes, and you’d be sitting in his lap barely able to catch your breath due to the fervour with which he kissed you.

he would ask watari to page you to his room if it was a night you hadn’t already been with him that day, either at school or out with friends, and you wouldn’t be there 5 minutes before he had you bent over a table (or the couch, or his work desk, or once over the windowsill the night you’d mentioned wanting to see the full moon).

in not so many words, his libido had gone into overdrive and he quite enjoyed getting whatever he wanted.

the only problem was that once you two were finished and he had a small break from the incessant urge to bury himself into you as deep as he could go, he still wanted to be just as close to you and horribly wanted you to feel the same way. unfortunately, this was the one situation where he couldn’t find the words to express his feelings.

so, since he had made it his goal to be the very best at making you feel good, he decided to get his point across to you the best way he now knew how.

“y/n, would you please come over here for a moment?”

almost everyone was currently heading out the door, off on their various ways for the evening aside from L, you, light, and misa. light had been discussing his thoughts about something with you while the others were busy and misa was awaiting a chance to convince light to hang out with her.

you excused yourself from your conversation with light and made your way to the opposite end of the room where L was sat in his usual spot in front of the television.

“what can i do for you?”

“actually i’d like to talk to you about something i want to do for you.” he said it as though light and misa weren’t 20 feet away, “well, to you, more accurately. i want to try something new, i wasn’t so sure i could do it but i believe i have a well enough understanding of what makes you tick to be successful.”

despite how casually and technical he spoke, every word was making that familiar damp feeling between your legs reappear. he was looking at you like he wanted to take a bite and it took everything in you not to fall to your knees right then and there, “uh, what exactly did you have in mind?”

“i’d really like to try my hand at performing cunnilingus. in fact,” he turned his head to look towards the others in the room, “let’s do it now. no time like the present eh?”

“L, whatever you’re thinking about is a bad idea. light and misa are right over there.”

“nevermind them, they won’t be able to see past the back of the couch, come and sit here.”

you nodded and he slid over and motioned for you to sit where he had just been, handing you his cell phone in the process, “if you get too nervous about them, speed dial light on this and it will send a message to his phone to meet down in headquarters. sound good?”

the second he saw you nod again, he crouched down to the floor in front of you and began working away at the clasp of your pants. he shimmied them down your legs and onto the floor, gently so as not to make a sound, your underwear going next leaving you fully exposed to him.

he was in awe. sure, he was now incredibly familiar with your body, but he’d never gotten as close as he now found himself. your pussy was just inches from his face, wet and waiting, all for him. his hands gripped the insides of your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a better look at you in all your glory.

“would you look at this, you’ve gotten wet before i’ve even touched you.” he spread you further open with his thumbs, fingers still curled into your thighs and hot breath fanning over you, “i suppose it would only be right of me to clean up the mess i’ve caused, don’t you think?”

“yes, please.” your voice came out as barely a whisper, “but they’re going to hear you.”

“shh, just press the button and they’ll go away.” he pressed a kiss right above your clit and you had to bite your tongue to stop from crying out. even just keeping your head still was almost impossible.

you gripped the phone tightly in your hand as he kissed your clit this time, sucking it into his mouth gently.

he wasn’t trying to get you caught. that would undoubtedly be bad for the both of you, for both your jobs and your reputations. so why did he find himself itching to make you cry out? to make light and misa painfully aware of the fact that in the same suite they sat in talking innocently, L was making you feel the best that anyone could, so good you lost all sense of control and let them find out.

he knew you would never be able to show your face again had this happened though, so he reached a hand above him and clasped it over your mouth, “be quiet, i’m trying to concentrate.”

you squirmed under his touch and his tongue began to venture further, further inside his favourite place to be. he licked a stripe all the way back to your clit and your thighs instinctively squeezed shut around his head.

his hand muffled the whine that escaped you and you were sure someone would hear you. you clicked the button to dial light and finally tossed away the phone, gripping onto the couch cushions with both hands to keep yourself grounded.

you could hear his phone chime, followed by the sound of chairs pushing out and the door slamming. L paused his movements and was at last able to come up for air, mouth and chin now glistening in the faint light from the tv.

“finally i have you all to myself,” he readjusted so his arms curled under your legs, allowing him a better hold to keep them open wide.

he dove right back in, pointy nose prodding at your clit with every movement of his mouth making your body jolt. your hands worked their way into his already messy hair, holding onto it tightly as you began rocking your hips into his mouth, wet and warm and making you feel amazing.

“yes, yes just like that,” you panted out, “god that’s perfect L, please, don’t stop.”

he groaned into your pussy hearing you talk to him like that, sending a shockwave up through you. you were close, he could tell, he just had to get you there. he needed to get you there, to show you how good he could be for you.

you held him impossibly tighter to you as the knot in your stomach began to build, dragging yourself along his tongue hurriedly enough to make you wonder if he was able to keep up. your moans turned into high pitched whines as you approached your release, not a care in the world anymore about who might be around to hear you.

with both the pretty sounds you were making and the simple act of you using his mouth however you pleased, riding his tongue now to practically get yourself off, L felt so accomplished. knowing he could make you feel just as desperate for him as he felt for you was enough that he could die happy.

“oh fuck, fuck i’m gonna cum,” he was doing it. your whole body began to spasm and your back arched straight off the couch. he held you as still as he could and your legs once again closed around his head, this time squeezing for dear life as his tongue continued to work circles around your clit. all that was coming out of your mouth was babbles of his name and profanities.

as the pleasure soon turned into overstimulation, he continued without faltering his pace. he was determined. he was sure you’d probably had a good experience to compare this to, hell maybe even a great one, so he had to be sure he was the best.

“L, please, ‘s too much,” you whined, “it’s my turn.”

he pulled away entirely, coming closer to head level and giving your overworked pussy the break it was craving, “i’m sorry, i don’t recall saying anything about you getting a turn.”

“but what about you? just a taste, just quick.”

he cut you off by pressing his thumb down on your clit, the other hand moving up to cover your mouth again with a bit more force than the first time.

“i don’t know when you got it in your head that you run the show around here, but i suggest you get used to listening to me. keep being difficult and i’ll have no choice but to stop entirely.” he was bluffing, of course, but his stone cold expression didn’t give him away. his eyes trailed down to where his thumb was pressed, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile, “i really don’t want to have to do that. you just taste so, so sweet. think you can be good and behave for me?”

you nodded vigorously, pussy squeezing around nothing and begging him for attention again, the cocky, almost condescending tone in his voice making you shiver.

“excellent. now turn around for me please, hands on the back of the couch.”

you did as he asked the second he let go of you, hands holding firmly to the back of the couch and ass presented to him. you could hear his belt undoing, followed by a zipper and you braced yourself for him, but nothing.

L was a bit busy. stroking himself with one hand he stood to take in the sight before him. he had a bad habit of doing this, staring at you when he was supposed to be doing something, but he couldn’t help it. his eyes were glued to where you needed him to be, trying to carve the sight of it into his memory. his free hand held your waist as he finally lined himself up, coaxing another whine out of you as he bottomed out.

his thrusts started shallow and slow, your gentle moans fading into the background as he focused on how warm you felt.

you turned your head back to look at him, the sight of him looming over you with his jaw hung slack making you squeeze around him, “harder L, please.”

he switched to both hands and tightened his grip on your waist, “what did i say about behaving?” nonetheless, he was pushing into you much rougher now than before, yet still agonizingly slow.

“‘m sorry, it just feels so good.”

he began to pick up his pace, breathing becoming heavier the more into it he got, soon letting out little pants and groans of his own. generally, he was rather quiet during sex, only really vocalizing near the end when he couldn’t hold it in anymore, so the fact that he was talking to you and teasing you was a very pleasant surprise.

“yeah? does that feel good?” hearing you say just how good he was doing spurred him on even further, “do me a favour, id like to see the rest of you, please.”

you pulled the shirt you were wearing over your head as best as you could, L placing a hand on your sternum to hold you up. instead of letting you back down however, his hand trailed up to your chest, taking hold of one of your breasts as your back came flat against his chest. his chin rested on your shoulder and you could feel his sharp breaths hitting your ear, his racing heartbeat on your back matching your own.

the knot in your stomach returned, your pussy fluttering around him making him feel like he was on top of the world, “you— you’re so beautiful, god i could do this all day. look at you, so responsive to me, and such a good listener.”

all you could do was pant, his pace now unforgiving and making you feel like he was tearing you apart in the best way possible. he kissed behind your ear and let go of your chest in favour of rubbing gentle circles on your clit.

your whole body felt like it was white hot, “shit! yes, oh please L. i need it, i need you, please make me cum.”

he’d never heard you sound so frantic before and it was driving him up the wall, “y/n, you feel so incredible.” the more he spoke the quicker your release came rushing through you like a stampede, “i love feeling you around me like this, fuck, you’re just perfect.”

you gripped onto his arms and craned your neck to try and look at him, crying out pleas of his name and senselessly confessing to him how beautiful he was and how good he always made you feel. he held you impossibly tighter, his work on your clit long forgotten now as his only goal was to keep you as close as physically possible.

his hair hung low over his eyes, messy and sticking to his face from sweat. you were getting overstimulated once again but you’d lost all the sense in you to care, another orgasm bubbling up already because of it. L felt it, as if the look on your red face wouldn’t have given it away regardless, and his jaw fell open as his own release came creeping up on him.

his hips finally began to falter, a few loud, deep groans ripping out of him. his eyebrows knitted together and he shut his eyes, steady whimpers and groans falling out of him now as the two of you reached your peak together.

you felt him twitch inside of you, one of his arms reaching to hold the couch as his muscles began to give out on him. he placed sloppy, sweet kisses on your jaw before flopping down onto his back on the couch with an outstretched arm waiting for you.

he was back to normal, back to being his quiet self. you laid your head on his chest and he yanked the blanket from the back of the couch to cover the two of you, fingers gently tapping and tracing lines onto your bare back. this was your favourite part of it all, just laying with him and basking in what you’d just done.

for L, despite how much he craved the feeling of this, this was the part that would still make him question himself. when thoughts of self-doubt had an opening to creep up on him. the muscles in his hands twitched and the hold he had on you subconsciously tightened, dreading the moment you decide to get up and go to your room to take care of yourself.

every time you would bid him adieu, he could feel exactly where you had been laying become cold, physically reminding him of your absence. he couldn’t stand it. every night he tried to work up the courage to tell you to come back, to wait for him in his room instead, to ask you if he could come to bed with you, but every night the words would get caught in his throat and he’d choke.

you didn’t show any signs of getting up though, if anything you were letting yourself get comfier. he revelled in it, the whole room smelled a little like sweat but he found it almost sweet. maybe that would become his new favourite smell. he hoped you were as blissful as he was.

you trailed a hand up under the front of his shirt, letting your hand rest over his heart and feeling it quicken with every little movement you made.

“i really don’t want to get up.” you finally spoke, “i wish we could just stay like this.”

he winced, “don’t get up. you don’t have to.”

you tilted your head up to look at him, his face finally visible with his hair going every which way and his eyelids hanging half-closed. this was the most relaxed he ever looked, probably because he was far less concentrated than he usually had to be.

“we can’t just sleep here on the couch, L.”

we. we can’t sleep here on the couch, “we could. technically we can do whatever we want.”

he smiled at you, a coy little smile, and you knew you were so screwed.

“how about you go and wait for me in my room then?” he wasn’t looking at you anymore, too nervous for your response, “i just have to put all these files where they need to go, and maybe clean up a little.”

“really?”

“if that’s something you want to do, if not don’t feel like you’re obligated to say yes.”

“no i want to! i mean, as long as you’re sure you want me in your room.”

“of course i do.”

he sent you upstairs with his key card once the both of you were dressed again and you nervously waited for the elevator to stop on his floor. skipping the whole way to his bedroom, and once inside you tucked yourself away in the bathroom to clean yourself up.

when L entered the room, you were nowhere to be seen. he heard the sound of the running tap in the bathroom and decided to wait for you in the bed. he laid right in the middle, how he was used to sleeping, and watched you with a smile plastered on his face as you walked out of the bathroom and over towards him.

you climbed under the blanket with him and tucked under his arm, head laying on his chest and an arm stretched across his torso.

“your bed’s comfy.”

“it’s a lot more comfortable now that you’re in it.” he placed a hand on your head, “before you fall asleep, i want to tell you id like if you slept here more often. whenever you want, in fact.”

“i will be taking you up on that.” your eyes were closed, sleep beginning to whisk you away, “you’re about to see so much of me you’ll get sick of it.”

as he felt you shift into unconscious, breathing slowed against his chest and your body pressed against his, he was sure he was the luckiest man in world at that moment, “i’d never get sick of you.”

[cherry-pop-elf]

What Kissing The Weasley Siblings Feels Like

Warnings: Fluff, Sensual, a little risky, no smut, graphic descriptions of lips and smoochies. 16+? Think that works

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

Given half his face is missing he doesn’t really like giving kisses. It’s awkward, and strange. To only have half your mouth. How his lips are never able to be soft, or how there is so much teeth. Despite it, you would always kiss the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be kissed, and that is simply that. You find a way, and doing so warms his soul. One day, he finally gets brave enough to return a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s strange, but his intent is all that matters. He was horribly anxious, but followed through. Besides. A little tongue makes it more fun anyway. Whenever the full moon gets closer, you expect getting nothing but tongue and teeth anyway. What’s some more?

Charlie

Warm. They are always so warm, and chapped from the heat. He works with dragons all day, and you can always taste the ash on his breath. He’s a passionate man. He is so intense. Every kiss is like being swallowed whole by the embers of the very dragons he has tamed. He’s so passionate. A man that would lift you off your feet, and have you arched in his strong hands. As if he is trying to consume you, and lick your skin like an angry fire. He is a man that knows what he wants. What he wants is to make sure you know he loves you. He wants you so very bad

Percy

He’s always been quite the prim and proper type. His kisses tend to be quick, short, and almost sharp. Like a peck to the cheek. He has just always had trouble showing affection, but you knew that when you signed up with him. So it wasn’t like he manipulated you into thinking one thing over the other. Regardless, he does try. When his lips do find yours, they are nice. His lips are honestly softer than you expect. He always did take good care of himself after all. They never last to long, but you enjoy them while you can. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone, and you are proud of him for doing such. That’s what matters, after all. You’ll get more. You know you will.

Fred

He’s an intense fella. He likes to plaster you in little kisses, before becoming a living cartoon and dipping you into a passionate embrace. He loves to use kisses to fluster your soul, and be playful in soaking you in little ones. You swear every time you meet he makes sure to leave a kiss on you somewhere. His lips are warm, and a bit chapped. He works with fire works all day, kinda a given. Always the taste of ash on his tongue, but you are fine with it. You just adore how he’s always excited to give you kisses. Each other so alive. He’s just in love. What can he say?

George

Similar to his twin, but still his own person entirely. He’s a bit more emotional. He likes to let kiss be a bit gentler, and lets them last longer. He would trail soft kisses from your cheek, ghost your lips, and go to the next cheek. Then slap a long passionate one, right on your lips. He likes showing his emotions through his lips. Short kisses of excitement, long kisses of need, ghosting to tease. He loves to make use of his mouth, what can he say? He does more than talk your ear off about his latest invention. Mans knows how to work those lips to his advantage. In all the right places.

Ron

He’s an awkward guy. His kisses are either shy, or way too much mouth. You kinda have to teach him. As if either of you complain. He’s just a little dork. YOUR dork. Once he gets his footing, he’s enjoying himself. He still uses more mouth than lips, but you’ve grown to rather love it. How he’s just starving to have you. Even if you were gone just a few minutes. How he utterly craves your touch. It’s addictive. You’ve grown to adore those sloppy kisses he has to offer. They are HIS kisses after all. It makes him all the more special. He’s your dorky guy. All yours, and all his kisses belong to you. So hungry, and devouring.

Ginny

She’s a professional Quidditch player. Do not expect her lips not to be cracked, bloody, dry, what have you. Doesn’t mean her kisses are any less adored. She’s one for quick pecks, as she’s always running off somewhere to do something. You are in love with a Jock. A Weasley Jock no less. Regardless, she knows how to kiss. She knows that sometimes you deserve longer smooches. She does, however, enjoy cheek kisses. She loves giving cheek kisses. Platonic, romantic, she’s a cheek kisser. She will hug you tight, and plant multiple cheek kisses all over you, when she’s really excited. She’s the child of six older brothers. She’s a bit aggressive, but that’s what made you fall in love with her. Ain’t that right?

[littlejuicebox]

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan (prologue)

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

A/N: Hello! I've been stuck in my head about the idea of a whimsical reader (think Luna Lovegood) after reading the many sweet writings of other writers on Tumblr (specifically @ moonstruckme)! I totally ship a character like this with Remus because I feel like Remus has a tendency to overthink and get stuck in his own head and a character like this would be a breath of fresh air for him and balance him really well. Please note: whimsical does not = stupid! Rather, quite smart but people find her odd and reduce this to lack of intelligence. This is my little prologue, a sort of soulmate-esque AU - what do we think? Do we like this idea? Would we read it???

CW: swearing (cuz it's Remus 'Werewolf McSwearWolf' Lupin's POV, duh)

If there was one thing people ought to know about Remus John Lupin, it was that Remus was a planner. At any given point, it would be safe to assume that Remus had a plan.

As would be typical of Remus Lupin’s luck, however, most of his plans got fucked to shit.

Example A:

As a child, Remus planned to grow up to be a wizard like his da, or a nurse like his mum. That plan was fucked to bits just before his 5th birthday when Fenrir Greyback damned him to a life of lycanthropy and a side serving of prejudice. 

Example B:

Remus Lupin planned to never be accepted to Hogwarts on account of his previously stated damnation. That plan also went sideways when an owl dropped a letter into his porridge on the morning of his 11th birthday, containing an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Remus’ da told Remus it was likely a mistake and they would rescind the offer once they learnt of his lycanthropy. Once again, plans were nullified when headmaster Dumbledore himself showed up on the doorstep of the Lupin Cottage after not receiving a response from them.

Example C:

Once he confirmed his acceptance to Hogwarts, Remus Lupin planned to be completely invisible throughout his time at school. This meant: no embarrassing himself, no bringing attention to himself, and absolutely, under no circumstances, would he make friends.

Of course, as should have been expected, this plan was fucked upside down and backwards seven ways to Sunday when the likes of James Fleamont Potter and Sirius Orion Black set their sights upon him.

Though Remus Lupin did have a plan, he was still just a boy. He’d been homeschooled his entire life due to being unable to explain his absences to muggle teachers as well as his scars/injuries from every full moon, and the village kids were quite fearful of the scarred boy. All this to say; he’d never had friends before.

So, sue him for relishing in the interest these boys seemed to have in him.

No matter: Remus could handle this. “How?” You may be wondering. By a plan, of course! 

Remus Lupin would allow these two (and Peter who went about befriending the boy in a much gentler way, so let’s make it three) friends, and planned to ensure that they never learned of his lycanthropy. He’d only just made friends; he wasn’t about to lose them. 

Of course, Sirius being the nosey fucker he is, James being the doting mother hen he is, and Peter being far too perceptive for anyone’s good – that plan was fucked to shit as well.

Remus, then, planned then to never let anyone else ever learn his secret again.

That plan was once again fucked by none other than Sirius Black and his unfortunate ‘prank’ on Severus Snape that could have cost Remus and Severus both of their lives, or at the very least, their lives as they knew it.

Remus Lupin then planned to never forgive Sirius Black for that horrible, thoughtless prank. 

Remus was admittedly not all that sad to say that this particular plan was shot too, though he ensured Sirius suffered at least a little during the process of his forgiveness. 

So, as he sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall in September of his 7th year listening to his friend’s wax poetic about their different love interests or conquests that they had made over the summer (i.e., James’ love for Lily, Sirius’ many hook-ups, and Peter’s enthusiastic support of them both), Remus made yet another plan.

Remus John Lupin planned to never, ever, fall in love. 

Moony, it would seem, had other plans. 

Continue to the first chapter here.

[juyeonszn]

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 4

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, maybe mild degradation. semi-public sex WC: 6.7k AN: sorry this took so long to churn out y'all! i'm currently at a crossroads where i could make this fic end at 5 chapters, or extend to 10 and really cook the plot. please let me know which you'd prefer!! i really love all the responses from every single one of you, and, if you all want to see the crazy shit (and smut) i have planned, i'd love to hear it! until then, enjoy this self-indulgent chapter. requests and asks are open, as always <3

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4], Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8

Chapter 4: Breaking

Anakin woke up first. Because of course he did. Because of course the universe tortured him with the beauty of your sleeping face, naked in his arms. Last night was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and that counted winning Nationals and his first Lego Robotics kit. The previous night, when you lay down on his chest and said all those sweet things, no anger in you at all, he felt his stomach do a full flip, and he accepted right then that he loved you. Once he let the thought in, it was done. He loved you. And that was pure torture, because he knew he wouldn't do anything about it. The two of you were too delicate, too breakable right now.

He watched your sleeping face in the morning light the way a moth watches the moon, bright and so unattainable, with your peaceful eyes and full lips. Those same lips that sneered at him, that told him how smug and horrible he was. He really didn't know how he could be so stupid as to sleep with you. Anakin knew he was never someone who could keep his feelings and his dick separate. He knew it. But the second that you seemed interested, he offered it so freely, probably because he was already done for at that point. Last night, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel pleasure, to make you shake under him and say his name. And now, he was aware of what he had done to himself. What he had been doing to himself since freshman year.

The thought propelled him to get up, to move around. Anakin never could stay still for long. He closed your bedroom door softly, trying to avoid waking you up after he put his clothes back on, then sat on your couch to have a moment to think. A moment where he couldn't smell your shampoo or feel the skin of your stomach against him. Fuck. He leaned his elbows onto his thighs and put his head in his hands.

What was he going to do? Could he even do anything at this point? If he told you how he felt, that he wanted to be more than just someone you slept with, he genuinely didn't know what you'd say. What was the probability that you had feelings for him? Something other than just carnal, animal desire? He'd been noticing, lately, that you were less likely to snap some rude comment at him. That you were, maybe, just maybe, softening towards him. Maybe he was just deluding himself into reading into the soft touches last night, or the fact that you didn't kick him out. But maybe he wasn't. And maybe you'd be scared away by the suggestion that he had feelings for you, for any one of a million reasons. You were only six months from graduation, or some ex still had your heart, or maybe you just didn't want to be seen with him. There were infinite possibilities, and he didn't know which, if any, would happen if he told you. The uncertainty was killing him.

But the biggest thing stopping him was the competition. It made everything so hard between you, and maybe he would have said something if he didn't have to see you every day for hours until he graduated. If he could just run away if you rejected him to lick his wounds in peace. But, if you said no, he'd have to watch you ignore him, watch your perfect, deft hands build something brilliant.

He felt like an idiot. He had put himself in this position. And he couldn't really afford the time commitment of spending hours a day with a fuckbuddy/girlfriend/whatever this was right now. He hadn't fucked you without thinking about it, it was just that he was weak around you. Sure, he was horny and repressed and hadn't gotten some in a while. That's what hands were for. But, in all honesty, he hadn't been interested, really interested, in anyone since sophomore year. Then you came along, the one person he should hate, always next to him in the lab. As he got to know you better, he felt that lump growing in his chest, the one that meant that he was going to be hurt, inevitably. That much love never ended well.

Oh, fuck, what have I done?

He heard hinges creak, and, for a second, he thought you were up, but it was Ahsoka, heading out for a run based on her joggers and jacket. And he was wearing last night's clothes in your living room in the early hours of the morning. Shit. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, from the timing to his messy hair.

"Hey, Snips." His voice wasn't as confident as he hoped it would be, but Ahsoka took pity on him.

"Hey, Skyguy," she said, sitting down next to him on the couch and wrapping an arm around him. Anakin hesitated for just a moment, before leaning his head onto her shoulder. She was his second-in-command, and she knew things he didn't tell pretty much anyone else. Ahsoka was dependable, if annoying. She was who he imagined his little sister would be in some alternate universe where he had a bigger family. It irritated him to no end that she could read him like a book, especially with the look she was casting him. She knew the slump of his shoulders, the faraway look in his eyes.

"You caught feelings, didn't you?" She said into the silent room. There was a peace, a still serenity to the morning, and he found himself tired of hiding.

"That easy to tell?" He let out a little snort. Of course it was.

"Yeah." For her, at least. She'd seen him cry in pain after a competitor dislocated his shoulder, and she'd seen him go through his breakup with Padme. "Well, why don't you say something?"

"I'm scared that it wouldn't work out, that it would end badly." The confession was quiet, vulnerable. Anakin could practically hear Ahsoka rolling her eyes affectionately.

"You're already enemies. You literally hate each other. How much worse could it get?" There was a smile in her voice, but Anakin was serious.

"So much worse. You don't know--I don't think I could handle silence. Anger, hatred, that's whatever. But silence, not talking, that would kill me. When we're just casual--it's safer. Even if it fucking hurts." He'd never been a guy for casual hookups. He'd never had one before. Anytime he had sex with someone, it had to be emotional for him. Deeply.

"But you already have feelings, so you're going to get hurt if it ends, regardless of what label you put on it. Just… say something, Skyguy." Her arm wrapped around his shoulders squeezed him comfortingly. He nodded, still far away in thought. The possibilities spun around in his mind like debris in a hurricane, smacking him around like a ragdoll. Everything was chaos, and he just wanted to learn more. To know more about how you felt.

"I think I just need more time. To figure out what this is. If there's anything I can do. And I can't let myself get distracted from work," he said. The problem was that, when he got like this, he knew you would be the only thing on his mind, night and day. The only thing that kept him from going insane would be his work, what he was building, but you would always be there when he was working. And that would throw him off his game by a country mile.

"You work too much, Skyguy." Anakin barked out a laugh, a resentful sound.

"Maybe." What was too much? He didn't know the concept.

Every second, every iota of willpower within him was dedicated to getting through college and getting a good job. To making a future. To making money. He swore to himself, when he learned what a bill was and why his mom would cry in her room when the envelopes with the red stamps came to their door, that he would never let her worry about money again. She had done enough of that for a lifetime. Whenever she got him a gift that he knew was expensive, his heart would break. After she bought him the Lego Robotics set, he said he didn't want any gifts for Christmas anymore, only his birthday. Said he didn't want to celebrate consumerism, or some bullshit like that. He used the set until it stopped working. And then he fixed it, and wore it out again. For years, he was angry about how unfair it all was, how the world could punish his mom this way, but all of it boiled off until all that was left was determination, thick like syrup. Then he started the odd jobs, fixing computers for people with small bits of equipment he borrowed from the school robotics team. He worked part-time at the dojo in exchange for lessons, and collected every scrap of prize money he could. He'd slip the twenties he got into his mom's wallet in the middle of the night, his bare feet padding on the tiles, hoping she wouldn't notice.

He only accepted Coruscant University because of the full ride they gave him. If they had offered any less, he would have had to go to Tatooine State University. And now, if he won, $10,000 was enough that he would probably have to make up some excuse for her to accept it, like a thank-you gift for being a good mom. Or maybe he'd invest it and take out small chunks once a month that he could slip into the family bank account, maybe pretend he got a new part-time job. That is, if he won. If.

Whenever he thought about not winning, about what that would mean, he felt a pit open up in his stomach, sucking him up whole. But if he won, a different pit opened up. You'd never forgive him for it. He knew you'd never be able to get over the resentment, the anger at him if he won. You held grudges longer than anyone he'd met before, and this would probably be unforgivable in your book. That was, if he even won.

"When did life get so complicated? If I win, I feel guilty because it'd ruin everything that we're doing. If I don't, I don't even know--I have to win. I can't afford not to. I--I just wanted to make robots." The feelings spilled out of him, letting some pressure off of his heart, but he could feel his eyes prickling. Anakin blinked quickly, getting rid of even the threat of tears. Ahsoka could tell, he knew, but she had the decency not to mention it. The arm around him rubbed his shoulder, saying I know. It's okay.

"It doesn't seem that complicated to me. All you can do is your best with your project, and with… other things. It'll all work out, I promise," Ahsoka said, with such authority in her voice that Anakin believed her.

"Thanks, Snips." He pried himself off of her shoulder, though it was a Herculean task, and threw her a forced smile.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll make you do sprints at practice," he added, and she laughed. Ahsoka pushed off the couch and grabbed her water bottle, then was at the door in a moment.

"I'll see you later, and… I do mean it. Say something," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.

That left Anakin alone on your couch, thinking and turning the possibilities over in his mind until he lost his patience and came back into your room. You were still laying in bed, and his heart ached. Anakin came up to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Something you probably wouldn't have let him get away with if you were awake, honestly. You shifted a bit

"Good morning, sleepy. Let's get to work," he said.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Anakin spent the rest of the day distressingly far from you. First, after you had breakfast together, which made his heart race in an almost embarrassing way, he had to leave immediately for a meeting at the Jinn lab. Then, he had to race to TKD practice, because he was teaching the intro, the intermediate, and the advanced group today, which was definitely evidence that God hated him. He shoved some kind of sandwich from a dining hall down his throat on the shuttle back to the engineering department, where he then sat for four hours working on replicating the results from some test Obi-Wan had run that morning. At some point, he ate two protein bars from his backpack. Anakin was so busy, he almost didn't have time to think or feel, and that soothed him the slightest bit.

Then came the thesis lab, at 10. It was packed to the brim with students. All twelve of your cohort apparently found their way out of the woodwork tonight. He checked the calendar. Seven days until fall semester submission, so that made sense. Most of them probably hadn't even started. Whatever, that just meant less real competition.

When he entered the lab, his eyes found you instantly, the way they always did. You'd saved the workbench across from you for him, a gesture which almost made Anakin pass out. He tried not to read into it as a sign of affection, he really did. He did not succeed. You gave him a little wave and a smile, asked him how his day was, and he went almost dizzy with joy.

By the time an hour passed, he realized that he had done remarkably little. He thought back to that morning, when he was sure having sex with you had been a bad idea precisely because it felt like such a good idea. Anakin decided that he was correct to feel that way, because he couldn't focus on anything right now. You bent over your lab bench to reach something in the back, and he wanted to walk over and sink his fingers into your soft cheeks. Maybe something else. When you lent over your workstation, which was across from his today, and he got a perfect look down your shirt to your perfect bra and tits, he tried to hold back the flashes of how your nipples felt under his fingers and tongue. Each stretch of your lithe neck reminded him of how desperately he wanted to suck a deep red mark right there, then watch you walk around with it.

He really was trying to resist, but he wasn't good at it. Anakin already knew he was weak when it came to you, but this was a whole new level. He was hard, in public, because of you. While he pretended to read an email sagely, a hand crept under his lab bench to palm himself, just to take the edge off. Somewhere around his hip, he remembered Obi-Wan could be watching, either now or years down the line, and his hand retreated to the desk. So much for that idea. But he could deal with a little erection, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong. Because, right in his line of sight, you were trying to unplug a stuck power supply, and you were making these sounds, these grunts and groans, that went straight to his cock. Fuck. Each sound that escaped you sounded almost like your little moans while he ate you out. He could practically still taste you, feel the nub between your legs under his tongue. When you finally got it, you let out a little celebratory yes! which was definitely something he heard last night when you were riding him. The weight of your body on him, the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock whole as he looked into your eyes, the smell of sex in the air.

The image was too much. Anakin's resolve crumbled, and his hand went down all the way until it reached his sensitive head and applied just enough pressure to satisfy the itch. Apparently, that wasn't nearly enough, because his body immediately demanded more more more, greedy and obsessed with what you were doing to him. He had never been this hungry for someone before, like you were the very air he needed to breathe. Since you arrived at the lab, it had been sheer torture. It had gotten him to the point where it might just break him not to fuck you, and soon.

Anakin took a deep, ragged breath, then turned to his project. He inspected what he had done, and he found that he had connected the wrong resistor to the top of the circuit, as well as put the input cable in the wrong place. If he had turned it on, it would short the whole thing. Probably blow out the MPU6050-6 gyroscope and accelerometer chips he had spent hours soldering on yesterday.

Okay. Enough was enough. If his horniness was getting in the way of his work, he had to go take care of it. Nothing could stop him from winning. Anakin muttered out that he was going to the bathroom and rushed off down the stairs to the basement, to one of the private bathrooms.

As soon as the lock clicked behind him, his right hand immediately locked onto his cock through his pants, stroking it as he popped the button with his left. He barely had enough willpower to take his hand off of his cock while he unzipped himself and pulled it out. He was hard, leaking, desperate. He spat in his hand, then pretended it was you stroking him. Slow, languid. Those eyes looking up at him through your lashes, telling him you how badly you wanted him. Fuck it, he thought as he sped up and twisted at the top, just like he imagined you would. He didn't have his cock in your hands or mouth last night, and he was starting to wish he had, if not for the feeling, but to have the mental image stored away. Or maybe an actual image. What if he pulled out a camera while your pussy swallowed his cock whole and wrung the life out of it as you bounced on top of him? Or maybe while you played with yourself for him, fingers shoved within you as you mewled about how badly you wanted him inside you instead?

Anakin nearly came from the image alone. He stopped, just for a second. He wanted to take care of himself quickly, but, when it came to you, he wanted to make it last. Spend time in that space where he meant so much to you. Anakin leaned his body, already sweaty with need, back on the cool metal tiles, his hand on the safety rail. He counted down from 10, just to let his breathing slow and wipe some drops from his forehead, then started fucking his fist again.

Less than five seconds in, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Motherfucker. He pulled it out, just to see, hoping it was you. It was.

Hey, you ok? You've been gone a while

You were worried about him. Fuck. Anakin sped up on his cock. What would you think if you knew he was thinking about you and jerking off? One-handed, he typed out a quick yeah, be back soon, but his phone buzzed again a second later.

If you have some kind of stomach flu and give it to me, I'll smash your bot right now

He breathed out a laugh, but it got caught in his throat as he rubbed his thumb across his frenulum. Anakin almost made a few mistakes as he was typing out his response, but managed to write back.

thanks. but i'm just taking care of something. b back soon

Less than a millisecond later, you sent him a response. How did you type so fast? How would those fast, precise fingers feel wrapped around his shaft?

Does that mean what I think it means?

He sent a quick response without thinking. No, he was not jerking off in the work bathroom because just being near you turned him on beyond belief. Nope.

get your mind out of the gutter, he sent back. But, even if you suspected what he was doing, why would you ask? Maybe you would join him, if he asked. His hand got frenzied at the thought. Twitches jolted his cock. He sent another text.

maybe

Would you want some help with that? Your text flashed up on his screen and hit him like a truck. So you were interested. Maybe you were kinkier than he thought. Maybe he should have asked you to come down here with him, whispering in your ear in the lab so you could follow him, and only him, wherever he wanted so he could fuck you until you couldn't walk.

He typed I bet you'd enjoy helping me. Being on your knees for me, but then deleted it. Scaring you off was the last thing he wanted to do now.

if u want, he sent instead.

You instantly responded. Where are you?

This was happening. It was actually happening. Anakin gripped the base of his cock violently to make sure he didn't cum while he waited. He had to be patient.

basement bathroom, down the hall from the motion capture lab, he typed.

I'll be there in 2 mins, I'll knock 4 times

Those two minutes might just have been the worst two minutes of his life. Waiting, cock in his hand, for you to get there, precum dribbled out of him like a fountain. His cock was already slick with his spit, but it had dried while he waited. Despite the fact that it had been a bit since he last touched himself, he wasn't getting any softer. It was like his body knew you were getting closer, about to touch him. Like it knew you were about to put your soft lips around him.

When the knock on the door came, he did up his pants, unlocked it, and stepped to the side. On the off chance it was someone else, randomly using this exact bathroom.

But it wasn't. It was you, your hair pulled up, away from your face, breathing just a bit heavily from the way you had obviously run down the stairs. You were excited for him, and a thrill shot through him as he realized that he knew you well enough to recognize that.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the lab, you had noticed Anakin was off, somehow. That morning, he was so tender to you, helping you up and getting breakfast with you. The way he made you laugh over your off-brand cereal squeezed your heart. When he left, telling you he needed to go to work, you flashed into some future where the two of you were at a run-down kitchen table in some tiny apartment you shared, spending a few precious minutes together before you had to rush off to your jobs in the city. You shook it away.

You spent most of the day working on a thermo problem set in your room, trying desperately to understand how this would ever matter to you. Sometime before lunch, Ahsoka messaged you.

Hey, I forgot my water bottle at home. Can you grab it? I'm at the athletics center xx

You rolled your eyes. Of course you'd bring it. You found it by your little kitchenette area (which was comprised of a definitely-against-the-rules hot plate and microwave), probably discarded last night when Ahsoka was studying. You grabbed it, the metal cool under your fingers, and filled it with water from the Brita in your fridge for good measure. She'd probably forget to fill it during practice if you didn't.

You decided to wear some comfortable slides for your walk to the athletics center, which was only two buildings down from your dorm. The concrete of the imposing building always felt threatening and harsh. The machines were a bit run-down inside, and it wasn't your favorite gym of all time, but they had a pool and volleyball courts, so you found yourself there sometimes for intramural sports, if one of your friends convinced you.

You scanned your ID at the front, and the student attendant gave you a look which questioned why someone wearing sweats and slides, carrying nothing but a water bottle, would show up to the gym at noon on a Sunday. Whatever, you'd be out of here soon. You bounded up the stairs to the second floor, which housed the aerobics room, where Ahsoka told you the team practiced. You saw some of the others--Cody, Vaughn, Rex--in the corner, talking to Ahsoka in their kits. You cracked open the glass door and waved her over. Her bare feet smacked on the wood flooring as she plodded toward you, a bright smile on her face. Once she met you in front of the door, she grabbed the water bottle and guzzled it down until little rivulets slipped past her lips. She was sweaty, and, even though her white and blue braids were tied back, some had fallen out and hung loose around her face.

"Hey! Thank you so much, I was literally dying," she said, winking.

"Yeah, I can see that," you said. Ahsoka let out a little laugh and told you she needed to get back to it, so you were about to turn to leave when you saw a familiar figure.

Anakin. He was in front of a crowd of students, almost all of them wearing black belts, with some smatterings of red belts, as he demonstrated some sort of combination of kicks. You didn't really know that much about taekwondo, even though your roommate was really dedicated to the team, and your whatever-Anakin-was had won about a million championships. You'd never really seen Anakin do anything, though, but you almost had to stop your jaw from physically dropping.

He moved so precisely, so agile and sleek. And then someone took out three boards, thick, wooden things, and he smashed them clean in half with one kick. Details flooded you. The way his standing foot corrected itself to support him, so well-tuned to his body. The furrow of his brow, the beads of sweat collecting on it. The taut muscles in his chest that peeked out from the slightly open vee of the kit. The way his mouth opened in a yell you could hear through the door, an angry, powerful sound that sent shivers down your soul.

You were wrong about him. He wasn't just otherworldly. He was so much more. When he moved like this, you imagined him on a battlefield, cutting through a swath of enemies with those strong limbs like they were nothing. He was ethereal, battle itself come alive, strategic and controlled and precise, but vicious.

Whatever he was showing ended, and the pupils started attempting some mimicry of it. But none of them would ever come close to him, to the way his body moved. You wanted him all to yourself, in that moment, when you realized how incredible he was. You didn't want anyone else to snatch even a fraction of him, of his brilliance. As the jealousy of some imaginary people tugged in your gut, you turned and left. You had work to do, and this was… distracting. Hard to look away from. Hard to stop thinking about. But you could manage it.

Even in the lab that day, when you'd found a bench and saved him a seat, the image of him, snapping out his hand at the wood, didn't leave you. It was like trying not to think of an object, it just kept popping up in the screech of the bandsaw, in the wood flecks that speckled the ground near the drill press. It was everywhere.

It only got worse when Anakin arrived, a few hours later, shooting you glances that made your body simmer. When he sat at his computer and typed, you wondered how you'd never seen that side of him before. How you didn't see that those hands, the ones that had been inside you just hours ago, were so strong. So dangerous. Something stirred within you. That chest that you'd run your hands over held so much power, and the thought of him using it on you, to lift you up and throw you around, made you far wetter than it should. Your clit twinged when you remembered that this very desk was the one he had lifted you up on that first night. Jump. His hands were so strong under your legs, like you weighed nothing. Not that you were tiny or delicate, he was just that strong. You looked across at the table at him. Anakin was precise in the lab, too, his hands twisting the wire in his hands under his fingers just so. Could he grab your clit like that too, and pull and twist? Watch you squirm under him?

Fuck, you had to snap out of it. You caught him looking at you, and he smiled when you made eye contact. Shit, you'd forgotten how cute that smile was when it wasn't full of contempt. It was only turning you on more.

You threw yourself into work, pulling off a horrible plug that wouldn't release no matter what you did, then typing out some words into your running lab log. When you looked up, Anakin was looking at you and breathing heavily, his face suddenly deadly serious. You suddenly felt like his next meal, and the thought made you shiver. After a few seconds, he told you he was going to the bathroom, and asked you to keep an eye on his prints.

The twelve people there had dwindled to six, counting you and Anakin, so you started to wonder if you could get away with going home early once he returned and either fucking him the second you got home, or fucking yourself silly on your vibrator when you got home.

So, when he implied in a text that he was, in fact, jerking off downstairs, you needed to find out where he was. Immediately. His strong hands wrapped around his cock would stay in your fantasies for years. And, you hadn't had him in your mouth yet. And, fuck, you wondered how he would taste, now that he had been teasing himself for so long.

The basement was quiet, empty. You didn't see anyone in the motion capture lab on your way over, so you two would probably be safe. A thrill bubbled through you--fucking in semi-public was something you'd always wanted to try, but no one you'd been with had been willing. You were sure that your panties were more than a little wet at this point, but it wasn't just that you were doing something so daring, it was the fact that you were doing it with Anakin.

The four knocks on the door came quickly, and you heard the tell-tale click of the lock. You opened the door, then found Anakin leaning up against the wall.

"Hey," he said, nonchalantly. That charm was really serving him now, distracting you from the red in his lips and the heave of his chest. You noticed anyway.

"Hey."

"So, uh. I don't have a condom or anything, so we probably shouldn't--y'know," he said, seeming a bit unsure what you wanted to do. His index finger rubbed the metal bar protruding from the wall that he was leaning on.

"Yeah. I was hoping that, um," the words fell short on your tongue. Was there a sexy way to ask this? One that would guarantee he'd say yes?

"What is it?" Anakin was suddenly curious, not ready to accept your pause, or the "I-uh" you uttered as you searched in vein for some innuendo to use.

"C'mon, tell me." His tone had more of an edge to it, one that made you blurt out what you were thinking without a question.

"I was hoping you'd fuck my throat. Hard." You looked up at him, and he was looking at you a bit like he looked at those boards at practice. Like a goal. Like something he wanted, something he'd get. Anakin stalked over to the door and clicked the lock so that no one could get in, then turned to you.

"Get on your knees for me, baby." His voice was so gruff that you did what he said immediately, and dropped onto the hard tile floor. You were on your knees, and all that mattered in that moment was him. His pleasure. "Take it out," he told you, his eyes fixed on you. Your hands came up to his thighs, shaking in anticipation, then ghosted along his hard cock in his jeans. It jumped under your fingers, eager, but you continued up and undid his button. While Anakin stared down at you, you glanced up at his furrowed brow and tightened lips before slowly, teasingly, drawing down his zipper until it showed you his boxers. You hooked a finger under the waistband and drew them down until his cock, hard and heavy, bobbed in front of your hungry mouth.

His head was dark, leaking precum. Anakin had clearly been playing with himself for a long time before this, and you could see some wetness along the shaft, probably spread across his hard cock by his hand. The veins were defined, angry and desperate. One of his hands came up to your jaw, caressing it, then trailed to the back of your head to pull your mouth closer to him.

You reached up and grabbed around the middle of his shaft experimentally, just to test his reaction, and he let out a huff. The skin was so soft and silky under your fingers, and you wondered if the head would be smooth and warm in your mouth. You tested that theory immediately, taking the entire head in your my mouth in one go. You were both too impatient for teasing right now.

"Ahhffuuuck," he groaned as his other hand braces him against the wall. You hummed, but your jaw was open as wide as it could go, so it came out incoherent. Your tongue darted to his slit, lapping up his precum, which was salty and musky, like the rest of him last night. It was Anakin's smell, something masculine and sexy that made you get even wetter. Your tongue started brushing over different parts of his head, feeling the spongy head and the smooth bumps of his frenulum. He really liked it there, it seemed, based on the sharp inhale and small eye roll you saw him give.

You loved his reactions, you loved watching him lose that filter that pretended he didn't want to do horrible, rough things to you. Your head started bobbing as you worked your lips over and over across the rim of his head, letting the whole thing pop out of your lips over and over. Words would probably start pouring out him soon like last night, and the memory of him saying ride me was enough to propel your hand down to where your splayed out thighs met.

"What? Is blowing me in the bathroom turning you on?" There it was. You nodded, his cock still in your mouth. Yes, it was turning you on more than it had any right to. Knowing that someone could be right outside the door while you stuffed him deeper down was everything you wanted. You took more of him in, going as far down as you could, before he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged on him, your body begging for air, but then he used the hand that was behind your head to shove you off him. His fingers wrapped into the hair at the base of your skull and turned you up to face him. He was completely disheveled, the sweet Anakin still there, but a kind of sweet that terrified you, that would ruin you while whispering how good you were in your ear.

"Well, go on. Touch yourself while I fuck your throat, baby," he said, his voice commanding but caring, which only made you wetter. You didn't waste a second, dipping your fingers into your pussy, which was almost shamefully wet. As soon as he saw you sink down on them, he used the subtle opening of your mouth to shove his cock deep down inside your throat, then pulled back and thrust in again, harder. His cock was practically thrumming under your lips, needy and insistent.

The feeling made you speed up your fingers slamming the walls of your pussy, but it wasn't enough. Nothing other than him was ever enough. Desperate for anything to dull the need, you thrust your hips into your palm, grinding against it while your fingers were still buried inside you. The extra friction made you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut as he worked you back and forth. Suddenly, his hand in your hair wrenched you off his cock.

"Eyes open, beautiful. Look at me," Anakin growled. You instantly opened them, staring up at him. He was wrecked for you. His open mouth huffed out hot, ragged breaths, and, under your fingers, his thighs were clenched so hard you thought they'd give out. As soon as he saw your eyes on his, he lowered you back onto his dick, this time even more frenzied when he saw the devoted look you were casting him and your cheeks hollowed out. You were doing your best to suck the life out of him, and it was working. Quiet grunts started ripping out of his chest every time your tongue passed the bottom of the head of his dick.

"Ffffuck yeah, suck my cock--You like when I pull your hair hard like that? Like it when I use you?" The words were unfiltered, wild. You nodded as best you could, but his brutal pace moving your head was too much, so you tried to say yes, please, I love this so fucking much, but it came out as a series of incoherent noises around his length. Anakin smirked, ravenous, when he heard your desperate cries, but quickly had to squeeze his eyes shut and let his mouth drop open in pleasure. You loved seeing him come apart like this, just because of you. Because of your mouth. He recovered quickly, and words, dirty things, started pouring out of him.

"Yeah, I know you do. Can you feel how much I wanted to bend you over that fuckin' table in the lab? How much I wanted to--shit--slide my fingers inside you and watch you fuck yourself on them?" You whimpered around him, his words going to your head. Your pussy was on fire, heat spreading to every part of your body. He sped up, and you could feel his head smacking the soft flesh at the back of your throat. Your lips ached, your knees ached, your pussy ached, but you would do anything for him at that moment. And he knew it. He cursed under his breath. "Fuuuck, you're so fucking good at this--just like that, baby." It only took a few more seconds before you felt his thighs seize, his balls tightening and his cock starting to jerk and twitch in your mouth. You tongue was so tired, and you weren't sure breathing was even something you remembered how to do anymore.

"Gonna--fuck-- gonna cum. Gonna paint your fucking throat," he groaned, letting noises fall from his lips as you saw it finally overtake him. You were so far gone that you could barely feel your wrist from the amount you were moving it. You could barely feel anything except his cock tensing up inside your mouth. His orgasm burned through him like a wildfire, and, based on the loud gasp that ripped from his chest as the first shot of cum hit the back of your throat, he was losing himself in it. It was bitter, so salty, but you barely tasted it as it slid straight down your tongue. The next spurt hit you, and his hips thrust sharply into your wet, hot throat, but the cum stayed on your tongue this time. It was thick and tasted like a more intense version of his precum painting your mouth. Anakin rode out his orgasm, still buried inside you, then gently pulled his cock out and let go of your burning scalp.

You looked up at him with the best doe eyes you could, then stuck your cum-covered tongue out for him to see. His eyes were half-lidded, but curious. You wanted to badly to make him desperate for you again, to make him need you the way you needed him. Then you took it back in, and made a show of swallowing all his cum.

He groaned, giving you a fuck, baby as he recovered from both the image and his orgasm, and you registered, somewhere far away in your mind, that it was the first time he had called you that outside of sex, and that you wanted to hear it more.

His warm hand trailed your jaw, a bit tentative, holding you like you might shatter in that moment. And, you were. You were shattered, horny beyond belief and desperate to be taken care of. Every joint and part of your body ached, but nothing mattered other than having him inside you as soon as possible.

"Please, Anakin, I--I. I need to be fucked--I need you inside me, please," you begged, still on your knees for him. Anakin offered you a hand up, then helped you get off your sore joints. For a moment, you wondered if he'd leave you alone with your dripping, aching pussy, as some revenge for something. For some sin you'd committed years ago. But then he spoke, his deep blue eyes boring into yours with a heady mix of sincerity, sweetness, and something else. Something deeper.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry. But, first, you're gonna go upstairs and tell everyone you're going home, but you'll wait for me by the entrance. Then, when we get back, I'm going to fuck you on my bed until you can't walk straight."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag List (please let me know if you'd like to be added! i'm also searching for beta readers for this series, just to tell me if you like the concepts of each chapter, so message me if you'd like to chat about that): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @johnbassplayercutie @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm

[paceprompting]

tooth and claw

written for ‘fairytale’ | wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: m | cw: slight body gore, description of transformation | tags: fantasy!au, red riding hood (if you squint), human eddie, werewolf steve, first transformation, established relationship

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Of every bedtime story Eddie had ever heard since he was a child, there was a common theme. A common lesson.

Do not go into the woods.

Sure, they worked when he was young and naive. When his overactive imagination created bogeymen out of the nightly shadows, and he’d throw his blanket over his head to hide until morning. But once he grew up, and nothing had ever happened…well, there wasn’t much to believe in fairytales, was there?

Then Steve—his Steve—was attacked. Trying to find the last of the deer herd before they migrated to warmer pastures.

At the same time a wolf had the same idea.

If it had been a pack, Steve would have died.

He nearly did.

But the wolf was weak, or young, and Steve was at the peak of his strength. He injured it enough to be able to stumble back into the village, horrible claw slashes across his chest—much too close to his throat—and his sides.

It was a miracle he hadn’t gotten an infection. The priest called it the power of prayer. Eddie called it due diligence that he and his uncle had cleaned Steve’s wounds and kept him in fresh clothes and bedding for the near three months it took him to get back on his feet.

They’d thought it was over. Steve could still farm and hunt.

Come the next full moon, they learned just how wrong they were.

It started with this horrible low moaning, a sound that could only be pulled out of a person, that woke Eddie in the middle of the night. Steve wasn’t in bed. Eddie found him in the corner of the room, curled in on himself.

Before Eddie could ask what was wrong, Steve arched his back so far Eddie worried his spine would snap, hands digging into the floorboards underneath him. Eddie could see the ridges of his spine, realizing after a second that they were extending further and further, stretching Steve’s skin.

The wood floorboards cracked as Steve’s nails extended into long claws, leaving permanent marks. Steve’s low moaning turned into a rumbling growl that vibrated in Eddie’s chest as he watched, frozen, from their bed. Then, he realized the cracking wasn’t just the floor—it was Steve’s bones, shifting and breaking.

Dark hair grew along Steve’s back as his shoulders, his legs, contorted and expanded until his clothes fell into shredded pieces on the ruined floor. Eddie wanted to blame it all on the limited light from the moon, but he could have sworn sharp, long teeth had started to peek past Steve’s lips.

“Steve?” he’d said into the darkness.

Steve’s gaze fixed on him.

And those beautiful brown eyes that Eddie knew so intimately were gone.

In their place, were the shining yellow eyes of a predator.

Eddie ran.

Mid-transformation, Eddie gained a head start. Enough to burst out of the house and sprint in the opposite direction. He didn’t think to scream, using all his air to keep himself moving.

A piercing howl sent him stumbling over his feet, knowing for sure he was being pursued then. His only plan to was try and hide in the woods, in thick brush or a tree he might be able to climb.

It was all panic. He could swear he heard the thundering sound of paws coming after him, and all he could so was keep running. Right into the forest, ignoring stray branches across his face and rocks underfoot.

It was only a matter of time before he tripped, hitting the ground hard in a spray of dirt and leaves. The impact knocked the wind straight out of his chest, and Eddie had to force himself to turn over, gasping.

The wolf burst through the trees, right on Eddie’s heels. It slowed, seeing him fallen and practically defeated already, and lowered its head with teeth bared.

His Steve was completely gone. In his place, stood a wolf, larger than any Eddie had ever seen or heard of. The kind of wolf you only heard about in the stories he’d stopped believing in—as large as a grown man, with tooth and claw big enough to tear him into pieces.

In a ray of moonlight, Eddie could see its fur was same color as Steve’s hair.

“Steve, please,” he’d said.

And the wolf had stopped, cocking its head at him. Staring.

The wolf shook its head violently, and then took off.

Steve had come back three days later with no clothes, no fur or claws, and an empty stomach.

That had all been six months ago.

Only Wayne really knew what went on now. Why Steve took “trips” out of the village every month right before the full moon—when really he was holing up deep in the forest to get ready for the change.

Alone.

But once the full moon was high, and distant howls could be heard from the village deep in their slumber, Eddie ventured out to the forest.

Every story he’d been told as a young boy would have told him not to.

But Eddie didn’t believe in them.

He trusted Steve. Ever since that first night, when he overcame the wolf, separate but now always there—as Steve described it—and didn’t dare to hurt Eddie. Or anyone else.

Dressed in a cloak, Eddie went out to meet Steve.

For some reason, Steve reacted best to red.

It caught his attention, and he never attacked, waiting patiently with his head cocked like that first night. Waiting until Eddie lowered his hood so that Steve—the man still in the back of the wolf’s mind—could see that it was him.

In his form of the full moon, Steve stood as tall as Eddie. And he loved to knock his wet nose against Eddie’s face when he sauntered up to him, chuffing right in his face.

“You miss me, Stevie?” he asked, using the name Steve couldn’t argue against right then, butting his head in return against Steve’s muzzle.

Steve rumbled his pleased agreement.

[weepingicegiant]

HUGE TPOT 12 SPOILERS!

BUCKLE UP CHAT. CAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG THEORY!!!!!

Where do i begin?

So heres the thing, I watched TPOT 12 then took a shower right after. While taking said shower i took a moment to think about everything that went down. And thought of the wildest theory ever..

• XFHOV

LETS START FROM THE BEGINNING,

One and Three, right?

These two fellas have FINALLY appeared after 15 years! Why is that?

Here is the scene when X found out their value: 7!

Four, Seven, and X are celebrating and generally very happy. Who isnt happy?

Three and one.

Theyre clearly angered by this whole situation, but why? Who are they angry at?

Theres three possible options:

1. Seven. But that wouldnt make sense, huh? Basically every algebralien has SOME sort of grudge held against him, so its nothing new. Scratch that!

2. Four. Its possible, four has done alot of things. But thats not who im personally going to focus on. Well, partially at least.

That leaves one more person!

3. X. But why them?

"Theyre just a little silly dude, they did nothing wrong!" And youre right. Thats exactly why theyre a target.

• THREE AND ONE'S CAPYIVITY

Youre probably wondering, why am i focusing on X, and not four? Four is more of a suspect, after all.

Think about it this way,

Three is trapped in a prison inside of Four's school, so four put him there! (They are the only one with control over that place anyway.)

One is trapped inside of the moon. There isnt really any solid proof to prove my theory with this one, but she came out during TPOT. She clearly had the ability to escape and didnt seem tired out and/or surprised that she finally left her prison. One actually seems happy and collected, even going as far as "greeting everyone" once she's out. She chose to come out at this time, just like how she chose to mess with Two's show.

One also confirmed that shes an "old friend of Two's." If One is suddenly against Two after all the years of them knowing each other, Two clearly did something to her.

• MUTUAL CONNECTIONS

And youre STILL probably wondering, "Chim! You still didnt explain what X has to do with all of this!"

Four and Two hate eachother, this hatred being caused by Two when they stole more than HALF of the bfb cast.

(They seem to not be familiar with eachother when they "first" meet. Im not exactly sure why here HELP.)

But anyway!

Who does Four have a good friendship with? X!

Who does Two have a good friendship with? Also X!

X is what keeps them sane around eachother, the only main reason why they stick around.

If anything bad were to happen to X, Four and Two clearly have the power and ability to get back at whatever or WHOever caused this harm.

One and Three did something to X, and it resulted in Two and Four snapping.

• THREE'S PERSONALITY

Three has basically ZERO information on himself, we know nothing about the guy. But what we do know, is that hes agressive.

In the Number Playground Chronicles, we get an article that explains an event that takes place, Three being apart of it. The article reads:

(To reduce confusion, ill be adding the names for you guys to differenciate whos who.)

"(Five)Integer did not pick up the ball when dropped, and Three Integer, the person playing with him, became impatient. (Five)Integer was angry at (Three)Integer because, Three Integer could simply pick up the ball and throw it to (Five)Integer, and (Three)Integer and (Five)Integer could keep playing.

"FOAMING THREE INTEGER"

The horrible, tragic incident happened at 10:13 AM. Three Integer became Upset.

Three Integer at 10:16, Angry.

Three Integer at 10:31, Furious.

Three Integer at 10:24, and "Foaming."

Three Integer at 10:39, when he started to produce smoke.

(Five)Integer picked up the ball at 6:17 PM."

This event did truly happen, we can see the beginning of it play out in the first few seconds of XFOHV:

Three was so angry and REFUSED to even touch the ball. Five had to go pick it up themself HOURS after the incident.

Three also WILLINGLY closed the cell door after it was opened. He couldve escaped, yet he didnt. I have two possible reasons for this:

1. He's afraid of Four catching him, so he followed orders and stayed put.

2. Three's gone insane after a decade and a half of being all alone, to the point that he WANTS to stay inside.

• ONE'S MOTIVES

One seems like a friendly character, shes smiling in basically the ENTIRETY of her screentime, (minus the part when she conversed with Fanny.)

But something about her smile isnt right, its almost disturbing. The way she grins in the oddest situations,

She is seen with a list during the post-credits scene, with four names on it that are all crossed out, meaning they are "completed."

□ Bell.

□ Bomby.

□ Fanny.

□ Ice Cube.

Notice how all four of these contestants were in some sort of distress during that moment, and One helped them out! In exchange for a "favor."

1. She helped Bell escape elimination by removing her string (something that annoyed Bell constantly due to contestants activley climbing it.) And hiding her.

2. She helped Bomby escape elimination by hiding him.

3. She gave Fanny a new mouth, discarding the need to spend hours at a time searching for it in the ocean.

4. She gave Ice Cube a new pair of legs, allowing her to walk again.

What exactly does One need these favors for? Revenge against Two, of course!

● ONE AND TWO'S FRIENDSHIP

Theres a popular theory stating that Two was kicked out of the equation playground, this would clear up the confusion as to why they basically NEVER appear in the subscriber specials.

Maybe this is because Two hates math! They said it to Gaty in one of the episodes.

I also believe that One was also kicked out. Why, you may ask?

Take a look at this scene in the beginning of TPOT 11:

One's picture was hidden underneath Seven's. As if nobody(COUGH COUGH. Espcially four) wanted her to be mentioned so they simply hid her.

Maybe this is how One and Two became friends, two rejects.

● RANDOM THINGS THAT GET THEIR OWN SECTION CAUSE IDK WHERE ELSE TO PUT THEM

1. How the HELL did One get a mouth and... legs?

2. Judging by One's little room, she probably really likes space and astronomy, maybe thats way the moon was where she was sent.

3. Kinda freaky to think that One was there in the moon the ENTIRE time. Throughout every single episode of the series from BFDI 1A to TPOT9, and we never knew.

Yeah tbh idk what else to say this was just a little info dump cause my mind was PACKED. anyways yeah tell me if i missed anything anf let me know about your little theories and opinions on mine! :3