#and he was just shaking his head vicariously to the point that i had to turn to Eddie for him to explain it to me

[lover-of-mine]

I think it's funny when I'm writing for buddie that the tiny Eddie in my head likes to tell me feelings and the tiny Buck in my head likes to tell me situations. Sometimes tiny Eddie won't give a single line of dialogue. Or even setting. Sometimes he's just floating in a void because he won't even tell me where he is. Buck on the other hand, hates to tell me how he's feeling. I had to switch povs before because he won't tell me and I need the scene so I needed to ask tiny Eddie. But sometimes tiny Buck won't shut up, I don't know how we got here, what triggered this confession, or revelation, all I know is that he's in front of tiny Eddie and he wants to say things. I have no control over them. They just do what they want and I'm along for the ride.

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

𝓲𝓿. 𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

»𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬«

0:59─〇───── 4:20

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

“Enemies By Monday” series, part 4.

MASTERLIST

Summary: She couldn’t let him spend Thanksgiving alone, but letting Steve Harrington into her life is a dangerous slope of which she’s unsure she’s ready to cross.

Warnings: Strong language, drinking, ANGST, unrequited love in the form of flashbacks, bullying, Reader’s going through it emotionally in this one, arguing? Idk man I just work here. This is so long I’m so sorry.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

Fuzzy music plays through the busted radio on the counter. Eleven dusts the entertainment center in the living room while I am pinned with the unfortunate task of making the turkey for the third year in a row. I still don’t know how I ended up getting stuck with the tradition, I suppose Dad just decided one year that he’d had enough of doing it.

Violating a turkey at ten o’clock in the morning isn’t on my list of favorite activities. But it’s only once a year, right?

The kitchen is the stuffy type of warm; a combination of the preheating oven, boiling potatoes on the stove, and my personal workout from lugging around a fifteen-pound bird. As I pull its neck and other giblets out of the cold center, I gag and place them in a plastic bowl at the edge of the counter. The next step is to season the it inside and out, and I take note that the rosemary I’d gotten from the store is absent from my spread of ingredients. I lean back, still elbow-deep in the turkey, scanning the room. A tiny plastic container of fresh rosemary springs sits lonely on the oak dining table, taunting me.

Once I pull my hands out of this thing, there’s no way in hell they go back in.

“El!” I shout over the music.

“What?” She hollers back, annoyed.

“Can you hand me the rosemary from the table, please?” I call out, wiggling my fingers against the cold meat. My little sister is suspiciously quiet, and it isn’t until I peer over my shoulder that I realize she hasn’t ignored my request. The rosemary drifts vicariously in the air, wiggling like she’ll drop it from the other room. It plops down in front of me on the tray that I prep the turkey on. “Thank you!”

The front door opens and closes, rattling the thin walls in its wake of motion. I hear El greet him before he enters the kitchen, a gray plastic bag swinging from his fingers. “Munson Delivery Service,” he grins, setting the bag on the ground. The sound of beer cans clanking against one another faintly echos against the floor.

“You’re a life saver,” I exasperate, finishing my task and pulling my hands out of the turkey. I raised my arms up, covered in seasoning and poultry juices. My hands are trembling and I feel out of breath.

He grimaces, playing with his hair. “You’re nervous,”

“About what?” I try to play it off, but he’s right, I’m petrifyingly nervous. I feel as though I could turn to stone at any moment.

“You know what,” he tilts his head.

I shake my head, putting the turkey in the oven. “I know he’ll judge us, what we have—or more like what we don’t—I’m already prepared for it to be spread around school, not that it’s much a secret anyway,” I ramble, delicately dropping eggs in a pot and filling it with water.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Eddie counters, coming up behind me to lift the large heavy pot out of the sink for me. He places it on the stove. “Admit it, Princess. You’ve still got a thing for Harrington,”

My stomach does summersalts. “I do NOT. I’m offended you’d even insinuate that,”

“So you invited him over for dinner for…what? Shits and giggles?” he taunts, turning the stovetop on high and dumping an ungodly amount of salt into the pot.

“Eddie,” I sigh, scrubbing dishes in the sink. “It’s not like that. I technically work for the Harrington’s right now,”

“I don’t recall ‘have Holiday meals with the pretty one’ being on your verbal contract,”

“Do you have a point or are you just trying to piss me off?” I hiss. I need a fucking drink.

“My point is, don’t be stupid. And if you’re gonna be stupid, well, be careful,” he tells me, rummaging through the bag and grabbing out two beer cans. He cracks one open and sets it next to the sink, in my line of sight. I’m grateful he can read my mind.

“Enough about me, Munson. Tell me about Joey. He’s coming to dinner tonight, right? To meet Wayne?” I shift the uncomfortable topic, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah, that’s tonight. I’m nervous as hell,” he admits. Eddie had only come out to Wayne three weeks ago, despite his steady relationship with a boy from our school, Joey, having been ongoing for three months.

Eleven pads into the room, running to the fridge. We watch as she snatches a Coke from it, opening it and beginning to chug.

“Chill out, no more sugar or you’re gonna be running up the walls,” I scold and, goddammit, I’m starting to sound like our dad.

She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Hey, you heard her, Kid. Need you on your best behavior tonight. Lay off the sugar and no superhero stuff.” Eddie instructs. Annoyingly, she listens to him better than me.

“Right, because Mantis’s boyfriend is coming over,” she teases.

“He is NOT my boyfriend!”

“He totally is her boyfriend,” Eddie’s a horrible whisperer.

“Edward, don’t lie to the child, you know she believes everything you say,” I glare. He shrugs. The damage has been done, as she’s already scampered back off to the living room to do more cleaning. I’d agreed to a candy for every piece of furniture dusted, something I have come to regret, as she keeps finding things to clean.

“Now you’ve done it, can’t wait to have that conversation later,” I complain, eluding to the inevitable ‘when a man and woman love each other very much’ conversation that I predict is approaching very quickly with her. Dad can’t be trusted to do it, he’s to awkward for his own good. She’d never come to him about those things anyways, it’s always been me.

“What, are you gonna have sex with him and you’re worried she’ll hear?” He teases, jabbing at my side with his elbow.

“Jesus, Eddie!” I choke.

“No judgement! I would, given I could forget who he is for a bit,” he mumbles the last part and I wack him with the towel I’m drying my hands with.

“You’re disgusting.” I tell him. He laughs.

Eddie is trying and failing to explain Dungeons and Dragons to Eleven for the ten-thousandth time, foolishly hoping someday she’ll understand enough to join a campaign. I’m on my third beer, finishing the last swig as my vision begins to blur, and I suddenly feel a lot less nervous. In fact, I don’t feel shit other than contempt. I almost forget about the looming threat of Steve Harrington coming to my house—almost—until there’s a knock at the door.

Im on my feet and opening the front door before I can think to stop myself. He stands on the front door step, remnants of summer-kissed skin against a blue sweater, hair swept perfectly to the side. He looks perfect, standing there, like a painting, but then I remember I’m supposed to hate him and definitely not supposed to stare.

“Hi,” I can’t come up with anything else to say. Eddie snickers behind me.

“Hey,” Steve breathes, his hot breath visible in the frigid air. I step aside and gesture for him to come inside. He steps up and I’m paralyzed as he brushes past me and sets his backpack down on the floor.

Eddie peeks up over the couch to look at him. They exchange awkward nods before Eddie stands.

“Alright, Kid. Remember what I said, behave yourself,” Eddie tells El, bending down to ruffle her hair. He approaches me, leaning in to whisper, “you behave too,” before leaving quickly. I groan internally and close the front door.

“Did he… leave because of me?” Steve asks.

“Uh, no,” I lie, and it’s obvious. Steve nods anyways though, looking around the room.

Don’t look too close, I silently beg.

I round to the other side of the couch to make some distance between us. “This is El, my sister,”

Steve’s expression is one of bewilderment, but he smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, El,”

She all but ignores him, turning to me, “I want another Coke,”

“Only if you agree to go outside and run off all the energy from the sugar,” I tell her. She nods enthusiastically in agreement. I giggle and watch her take off to the kitchen, then out the back door. I follow her from afar, leaning over the kitchen sink to watch her through the window. She runs in circles, arms outstretched and pretending to be a bird—or maybe a plane—flying in a loop.

“She’s cute,” Steve’s voice startles me. I jolt and turn around. He’s leaned against the doorway. “I’m sorry I chased your boyfriend off. I can go, if it’s gonna cause a problem—“

“Boyfriend?” I blurt out, brows knit in confusion.

He fumbles over his words, lips parted in contemplation. “Munson. I know he doesn’t like me. Can’t blame him. I don’t want to make your life harder than it needs to be,”

“Harrington,” I interrupt. He watches me closely. “First of all, you already make my life harder than it needs to be. Secondly, he’s not my boyfriend,”

“But—“ he shakes his head. “You’re always together, he calls you Princess. I heard you tell him you love him—“

“Are you stalking me, Steve Harrington?” I pretend to be dead serious, keeping my face straight.

“What? No! It was dark, wanted to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped or something on the way to the car,”

“Kidnapped, in Uptown?” I begin to laugh and laugh until, I can’t stop, and I’m in an uncontrollable fit. My eyes water from laughing so hard. Steve is unamused.

“So.. you’re not dating him?”

“No, God, no,” I giggle, wiping under my eyes. “Eddie’s gay. He’s got a boyfriend,”

“A.. Boyfriend?”

“Correct,” I snort. “You know what those are… right?”

“He flirts with you,” Steve thinks aloud, like he’s trying real hard to put the pieces together.

“Eddie will flirt with anything that breathes, even you. Better watch out,” I tease.

He gives me a look and I shake my head. “There’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.” I tell him, turning to pull the turkey out of the oven. As he sits at the table and drinks his beer silently, he asks if I want any help. I shake my head, finishing the mashed potatoes and deviled eggs.

I try to clean as I go, washing dishes and laying them on a towel to dry. Steve stands and I snap, “Harrington, sit your ass back down,”

“You look stressed,”

“I function well under pressure,” I tell him absently, working quickly to arrange the spread of food. I can feel his eyes on me and I begin to sweat. This is an unforeseen type of pressure, different than anything before. My hands fumble a bit but I refuse to ask him for help. He watches me intently and I do my best to ignore him, finishing the setup just as El comes barreling in through the back door.

“I’m so hungry I could eat the house!” She announces.

“Probably because you just burned a week’s worth of calories in twenty minutes,” I joke.

“What’s a calorie?”

“A unit of measurement for energy, used to express nutritional value of food,” I explain, setting a heaping plate in front of her. Eleven contemplates then nods. Steve watches us interact, fascinated. I crack open another beer, feeling wobbly.

“How many of those have you had?” Steve inquires.

I shrug. “Not enough,”

“Don’t be getting drunk on me now, we need your Genius brain in tact,”

I take another swig. “I’ll always be your Genius, drunk or not.”

He grins and I do too, hiding mine behind the cool aluminum of a Busch Light can.

I’m tucking Eleven into bed, the door propped open just an inch. Kneeling over her bed, I kiss her head. She’d had boundless amounts of energy after dinner and practically begged Steve to go play with her outside, ecstatic to have someone new to play with. I told him he didn’t have to but surprisingly, he obliged. Turns out Steve Harrington not only loves kids, but he’s like a magnet for them. They played until she was worn out and the sky was dark. This is the earliest she’s gone to bed all year.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, Mantis,” she mumbles against the comforter, eyes fighting sleep.

I laugh through my nose. “You did good today,” I praise, flicking the lamp on her nightstand off. “Get some sleep. Goodnight.”

Closing her bedroom door behind me, I step into the dark hallway.

“Mantis, huh?” Steve’s voice is deep and reverberates against the night. I flail, unsure of where he is. Two large soft hands grab my shoulders, spinning me to face a shadowy figure. His breath fans my face, a mix of spearmint and cheap beer.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting in hallways like this,” I quip and turn to hide, escaping down the hall.

He chuckles and follows me.

The lone desk under my bedroom window is crowded with a semester’s worth of biology homework. We both cram into the space, shoulders touching as we go through the first textbook.

“Cells reproduce by dividing, so all cells exist because of pre-existing cells,” I explain, highlighting the basis of Cell Theory in my textbook. “I’ll send you home with this, you’ll need to study it for your final. I can’t take that for you so it’s very important that you actually—what the fuck are you looking at?”

Steve’s got this goofy look on his face as he stares at me. He’s so close to me, one arm resting on the back on my chair and his chest pressed into my shoulder. I look at him expectantly and he shakes his head, taking a drink from his fourth beer of the night. “Just lookin’,” he tells me.

“You should be just lookin’ at the page or your stupid self is gonna be repeating senior year,” I retort.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. Could hangout with you more,” he slurs.

I’m not sober enough for this.

“So you can torment me and extra year?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he leans impossibly closer.

“Shut up and read the textbook, Harrington.” I shove it his way, standing up to make some space between us.

“Why do you call me that?”

“You mean your name?” I snark, wrapping my arms around myself and holding my elbows.

“My name is Steve,” he tells me, drunkly, in a matter-of-fact way; like he’s proud he knows something I don’t.

“Steve Harrington is your name,” I snicker. He’s much more pleasant in this way, the drunken idiot. “Steve’s the boy I was friends with four years ago. Harrington is, well… you,” I roll my eyes and plop down onto my bed.

He stares blankly at me across the room. There’s an eerie silence in the room and I can tell he’s thinking—or trying to, at least—about something. Watching him sit at the same desk I’ve had since Dad dragged me all the way out to Indiana brings me back the days when all of this would’ve seemed so normal. He sits the same way he always has, one leg tucked up to rest on his knee, back slouched into the chair.

“Remember the day we met?” The words come out before I can stop them, fueled by a drunken stooper, brave and bold.

“Shit, yeah,” he lulls. “Miss. John’s English class, back when she used to teach both seventh and eighth grade,”

“Dad had just dragged me to this shitty town after… y’know,” my throat closes up thinking about Sarah. I was so young when she died, but that didn’t make it hurt less. The fallout and subsequent divorcing of my parents was devastating to my preteen self. “I was terrified, shaking like a leaf. The whole class was staring at me when she introduced me. I thought I was gonna die,”

“You were much more shy back then,” Steve confirms. “Nicer, too,”

I scoff, grabbing a pillow off my bed to throw at him. He holds his arms up to shield his face.

“Only seat open was next to you. You scared the shit out of me,” I admit.

“What, why?” His voice goes p an octave.

“You were staring at me,” I giggle. “Like you’d never seen a girl before,”

“Maybe I thought you were pretty,” he suggests.

I pretend to be annoyed. “Remember? I sat down and dug through my bag; then I realized, shit, I forgot—“

“A pen.” We say at the same time. I remember it so vividly, him silently handing me one across the small aisle. I took it and our fingers brushed, electricity igniting me instantly. I was a goner from the second I looked into those chocolate brown eyes.

“What kind of Genius forgets something to write with on the first day of school?” Steve scolds. “You never gave me that pen back, by the way.”

“I’ll buy you a new one to make up for it,” I joke.

“You could make it up to me a different way,” he raises his eyebrows. Some people really do never change, do they?

“Ugh, gross, Harrington!” I scowl.

“Oh, no, not that!” He shakes his hands in defense. “Just… humor me a second,” He drags his chair across the room, right up to my bed, and sits on it backwards, his chest pressed to the back. “I have questions,”

“We have work to do,”

“Please?”

“No,”

“Just a few,” he pleads. “Then I’ll do whatever you say for the rest of the night. Besides, you owe me. For the pen,”

“I hate you,” I groan.

“Is that a yes?”

“Three. That’s it.”

He adjusts in his seat, giddy like a little kid. “First, where’d the kid come from?”

My heart plummets into my stomach. “El?”

He nods. “I mean, I remember…Sarah, what little times you talked about her. I don’t remember you having two little sisters,”

“I didn’t,” I gulp. “El’s adopted. Her uh… biological parents passed away. Dad got pretty close to her on a case he was working on, he was the only one she’d talk to. Eventually it only made sense that she comes to live with us,” I’m careful to leave out the unsavory details, such as superpowers and monsters. They’re just little details, anyway.

Steve soaks up every word I say, nodding. “What’s El short for?”

“Is that your second question?” I ask stubbornly.

He shakes his head. “Second—this one’s important—what’s up with the nickname, Mantis?”

I laugh. “My mom. She said when I was a baby, she left my nursery window open while I was sleeping. She came to check on me, heard me laughing by myself, and there was a female Praying Mantis on my face. She was a big skeptic and thought it was a spiritual sign of good luck to come,” I sigh, leaning back against the wall. “Turns out I have like, the worst luck imaginable. So I don’t think the Mantis was any help,”

“You’re bad luck, huh?” He tilts his head to the side, chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Oh, yeah,” I add. “I’m trouble.”

We share breathy laughter, the tension slowly melting away. “What’s your final question?”

He contemplates for a second. “Ah, I’ve got it,” he giggles. “Why are you so damn mean?”

I cackle, covering my mouth at the outburst. “I’m usually not. It’s reserved for you,”

“Why?” He presses. Put those big brown eyes away, you asshole.

“Because you made me that way, Steve,” I declare. “I was perfectly fine until you broke my little pre-teen heart. It was—back then—the end of the world for me,”

Steve’s chest rises and falls a little faster. He stares at the floor, like he’s digging up a memory he hasn’t thought about in years, a privilege I had not been granted.

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟎.

I was in seventh grade, Steve was in eighth. After Sarah’s death and my parents divorce, I’d flunked out of the seventh grade and needed to repeat it; only this time, at a new school in a completely different state. People knew my dad was a cop by that time, and it squashed any chance I had at making friends, labeled unrightfully as a snitch. To make matters worse, I was relentlessly teased for needing to repeat a grade. Pre-teens are pure evil.

A lonely day in the cafeteria was interrupted when a boy in a purple sweater and blue jeans sat down next to me. His hair was much shorter then, nowhere near reminiscent of the waves with their own zip code that he adorns now. He hadn’t grown into his strong nose yet and he’d just barely started playing sports two weeks ago. He was a scrawny kid with no friends and a big dark cloud looming over him, just like me.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He asked, sitting next to me. I must’ve been staring at him like he had two heads, because he added, “It’s me, Steve. From Mrs. John’s? Y’know, I just realized I never told you my name—sorry, let me start over—“

He used to be so awkward. But I loved that about him.

We were fast friends. I’d dare to even say we were best friends, at one point. I had the world’s most diabolical crush on him, and I thought I hid it very well. That was until the Spring on 1981. We were on the cusp of the end of the year. Steve would be headed off to High School and I’d be trapped in Junior High for another year. He suggested that my dad pleads the case for me to be moved up, that my grades had proven that getting held back was purely circumstantial and due to lack of attendance the year prior. It was no luck, though, and we’d be separated for an entire year. This idea bothered Steve an ungodly amount, but I could never figure why.

It ate away at him, piece by piece, until one day it didn’t .

It all changed overnight, after he’d slept over at his teammate Tommy’s house. Tommy had a sister named Taylor and, well, she was the root of all evil. If Satan had spawn, Tommy and Taylor were definitely it. Something happened that night, because the following Monday, Steve and Taylor were dating and he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. My greetings were met with indifferent stares and zipped tight lips, and his seat at the lunch table was cold and empty.

I was blindsided and devastated. It was back to sitting in the cafeteria alone, watching from afar as the table Steve now sat at grew more and more crowded by the day. Very rarely, Steve and I would catch each other’s glances.

Taylor hated me and she made it very apparent. Bugs in my locker and tearing up my notebooks, she’d even gone as far as to get her friends to egg my house and my dad’s car.

It came to a head when Steve brushed past my empty lunch table, slipping a note underneath my tray.

Meet me in the west hallway.

How stupid I was back then. I foolishly dropped everything and ran to him, embarrassingly willing to welcome him back with open arms despite his douchebaggery. He was waiting by the boys’ bathroom, and shit—did he look different. His hair was gelled back and he had a different type of cloud around him, almost a sort of haze.

“Where the heck have you been?” I hissed, shoving his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squealed, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve been busy,”

“Too busy to speak to your best friend?” I snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned. “Look, I’m here now. And I need to talk to you,” He got closer then. We’d been close before, but never this close, and it made my heart drop into my ass. I began to sweat and I tried not to show how nervous I was. “I like you, Y/N. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you,”

“I…like you too,” I admitted.

Idiot.

Steve leaned in and so did I.

On cue, Taylor burst out of the bathroom, two open cartons of chunky expired strawberry milk in hand. Carol swooped in from behind her and held me in place as Taylor poured the milk over my head while Tommy snapped a picture on his Polaroid. The room-temperature slime that oozed from the cartons smelt like a combination of vomit and a corpse.

“That’s awesome!” Tommy gleamed.

I wiped the substance from my eyes, feeling it settle into the strands of my hair and the knit of my shirt. I peeled out of Carol’s grasp and shoved Taylor.

She shoved me back. “Stay away from my boyfriend, you whore!”

Until that night, when my father awkwardly explained it, I didn’t even know what that word meant.

I pushed Taylor again. Carol joined in and the took turns pushing me around and pulling on my strawberry milk infested hair while Tommy egged them on. Once they shoved me to the ground, a voice boomed down the hallway.

“Leave her alone!”

It was a tall boy with frizzy black hair. He was bigger and taller than both Tommy and Steve, and that intimidated them. The boy ripped the camera from Tommy, throwing it on the ground and shattering it.

A flash of kicks and punches thrown. Muffled yelling as chunks of milk clogged my ears and blurred my vision. Before I knew it, Edie Munson was leading me into the bathroom to wipe my face with a wet paper towel. He picked solidified milk out of my hair and helped me rinse it in the sink.

“Thank you,” I told him, doing my best not to cry.

“It’s no problem. And it’s okay to cry sometimes, you know,”

That’s all it took. I was a blubbering mess as he took his sweatshirt off and gave it to me, directing me to change out of my sweater in one of the stalls and handing me his. From that day onward, Eddie became my best friend and practically my older brother. I never spoke to Steve Harrington again, wouldn’t even look in his direction. He became the thorn in my side, the one person I hated more than I thought humanly possible. If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s holding a grudge.

“I’m sorry,” Steve laments, snapping me out of my trance.

I blink rapidly to stop the tears from escaping my eyes, but it’s no use. They come before I can stop them, cascading down my cheeks and dripping off my cheeks. He reaches forward, breaching the unspoken personal bubble between us to take my face in his hands. As he brushes away my tears with his thumbs, my body reacts to a violent range of emotions. I tremble under his touch, desperate to run away but even more so to stay. I’m paralyzed, and he can tell, taking advantage to speak again.

“I was a stupid kid. I should’ve never done that to you. I’m so sorry,”

“I just wanna know why,” I sniffle.

His lips form a tight line. “The honest answer?”

I nod. Honesty is the one pillar of integrity I allow zero leeway for.

“You scared the shit out of me,”he breathes. He strains against the chair, getting as close as possible. His elbows rest on my knees as he continues to wipe my tears. “You challenged me, made me think more about everything. It was infuriating but exciting, a terrifying combination. But the scariest part was that you made me fall in love with you when you weren’t even trying,”

I feel like I’ve been shot and punched in the chest at the same time. Time slows down and I look around, trying to uncover if this was really happening. My grief is replaced by shock, then anger, as I come to a conclusion that this is real. Steve Harrington is admitting to being in love with me; the one thing I wanted to hear him say more than anything.

Except he’s four years too late.

“Get out.” I command flatly.

His face falls. “What?”

I peel away from him and I feel empty and gross, like I’m contaminated somehow. I stumble off of the bed and open my bedroom door. “Get out of my house, Steve,” My breathing picks up and my heart hammers in my ribcage until it shatters, little shards getting stuck in my insides that poke and prod at me. I need space. I need to process.

He stares at me like a kicked puppy.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“Leave, before I make you.” I threaten.

He relents, picking up his things before quickly leaving. I watch him go through my bedroom window, a part of me dying as he gets into that red BMW. He sits there for a minute, both hands on the steering wheel. Just when I’m about to open the window and call out to him, he stars the engine, backing out of the driveway and disappearing into the woods.

“Fuck.” I murmur to myself. Going to the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. I look up at myself, water droplets dripping across my skin. So much of my mother resides in me; the older I become the more I resemble her. Glaring at myself, I curse whatever unforeseen force oversees this unforgiving universe. If my mother could see me now, she’d regret giving me such a forthcoming nickname.

Unluckiest Mantis in the world, I think to myself.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Vicarious (Homelander x Female!Reader) pt. 6

a/n: Mama a new chapter behind you (had to reupload this, because it didn't show up in the tag for some reason), this chapter might seem like a blurb of bs but it's important to the story guys please believe me. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Creepy Behavior (wow, a shocker), Discussion around some Non-Con situations (nothing explicit though), Smoking, Cussing, the regular

Summary: Finally, you get your phone back... And make a promise which will haunt you forever

Vicarious Masterlist

- What the fuck did you do? - Stillwell asks through gritted teeth, her expression frozen in a tight smile. 

The very second he has announced, the photoshoot would have to be postponed due to your "health problems", he could practically hear her heart drop right down to her tight, corporate ass. He decided not to comment on the sudden flood of adrenaline in her veins, but the moment she turned to him, demanding an answer, an explanation, he could feel the vein on his temple start to pulse.

Because how dare she, look at him like that? Like she actually cares about that ungrateful lowlife, he left wheezing on the floor, in some forgotten conference room? 

- She's not feeling well - he repeats, his voice becoming tense - Last night must've worn her out. 

Stillwell scoffs at his pathetic attempt at sounding sympathetic. Her eyebrows crease, as she takes a long, steadying breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. He likes that expression, likes the way people give up around him. The feeling of breaking someone down always gives him such a rush, it's unparalleled to anything else. 

He wonders how your face will twist and turn, when he finally manages to wrench himself under the layers of masks and disguises. He got close, he got a whiff of blood, and like a starved shark, he needed more.

The team of photographers continues to hassle about the place, setting things up, as if the photoshoot will take place. Which, it won't, he made sure of it. 

- Is she alive? - Stillwell asks with a resigned sigh, and Homelander rolls his eyes. 

- Yes, of course she's fucking alive, I'm not...

- Hey, y'all. Sorry for being late. 

Your voice shoots through him like an arrow of some fucked up, drunk cupid. His entire frame goes rigid, as his head all but snaps with the quickness he turns around. 

There you are. 

A plastic imitation of a laid-back smile plastered on your face, as you regard every person in the room with a nod of greeting. Not a hair on you seems out of place, even though he can clearly see, through the tissue and the muscle, that your ribs are only beginning to heal, the fragments of bone connecting with each other at a snails pace. It can't be pleasant, but your eyes shine nonetheless, as your platform boots carry you in their direction.

Stillwell looks just as shocked as he feels, her eyebrows nearly touching the perfect hairline on her forehead. 

- Miss Stillwell - you greet her with a pleasant smile - Homelander. 

- I see you're all better now - he comments after a beat, his eyes scanning your form.

He doesn't like the way your expression doesn't even budge. It feels insulting, your refusal to show your true colors to him, especially since he has seen you. He knows there are thoughts brewing under that blowout, and when you direct that fake smile at him, it feels like a personal jab.

 A small middle finger, pointed straight at his smile, stuck like glue to his face. The word "Bitch" echoes in his mind, and his eyes start to burn at the corners. 

- Ah, that party last night must've tired me out more than I anticipated - you shake your head in a rather forced attempt at looking bashful - I hope I haven't inconvenienced y'all too much. 

It's a blur from then on. Stillwell directs you towards the makeup booth, swallowing around her shock, before she comes out as too relieved. 

Homelander doesn't register any of her words, silently stalking to his own chair, where he lets some intern cake his face with makeup. He keeps his eyes on you, all the time, imagining all the horrible things he could do, will do, once this charade is over. 

He notices, with the accuracy of a starved hawk, how your breathing is still quite shaky, how your lungs aren't expanding as much as they're supposed to. Then, there's the tremble in your hand, as you curl your fingers around the armrest, nails digging into the plastic, when the makeup artist glides her brush over your collarbones. His eyes catch the smidgen of glitter, and his lip quirks up, seemingly on its own. 

A fitting camouflage, for the carnage he's left underneath. 

You suck in a sharp breath, as one of the ribs clicks back into place, and mask the sound with a cough. Which brings another wave of pain, crashing over your chest. He has to admit, the way you pretend to be completely unaffected is admirable. If anything, it gives him some hope regarding the future movie you're supposed to do together. In a month or so, he doesn't remember the details. Doesn't care for them. 

And then, you're up. 

Solo shots first. The photographer ushers you in front of the green screen, where you stand on the mark, shuffling on your feet awkwardly. Homelander watches, his head tilting, as you let yourself be posed, like a doll for the entertainment of millions. For his entertainment. 

It's the same, boring series of poses. The same, ass-and-tits-in-the-same-shot bullshit. He's seen it on practically every female superhero, and yes, perhaps at first it was exciting. Right now, however, it feels like licking off a plate after reheated leftovers. Still, he has to admit, there's something intriguing about the way your body twists and turns to accommodate the photographer's artistic vision. 

Despite that, despite the way your thighs peak almost too scandalously from under your plaid skirt, or the way your chest practically waves at him from beneath your corset top... 

He feels nothing. No familiar tightness in the lower parts of his suit. No fidgeting, no sudden wave of heat. He looks at you, and sees... Well... You. 

Even when your painted lips pull back into a flirty, curling smile, as you wink at the camera (as instructed), he can't really see Fireball anymore. It's like those couple of minutes ago, when he left you writhing on the floor unlocked some deep truth, some unexplainable dam, which has burst completely.

For a moment, he doesn't know what to think. The photographer thanks you, motions for him to take his place, and with limbs, which are suddenly much too heavy, Homelander makes his way in front of the camera. 

Your gaze follows him, eyes shifting under ridiculously large fake eyelashes. He feels them, burning the back of his neck, and for some unknown reason, it makes him feel... Almost pleased. He's always been a slut for attention, for admiration, for the looks of awe. And while there's nothing on your face which would suggest the latter two, you're still looking at him.

It makes his chest puff out a bit more, his back straightening, his smile cutting even more than usual. And the camera clicks, and clicks, until it's time for your paired shots. 

The chair squeaks, when you stand up, and Homelander swallows, listening to your platform boots, as they click on the linoleum flooring. Soon enough, you're in front of him, the photographer maneuvers you to his liking, and Homelander looks down, takes a whiff of  your perfume. That lingering, suffocating scent of jasmine. It swirls in his nose, cements itself into his brain, and his chest makes a quick up and down movement, his lungs refusing cooperation for just a second. 

The photographer turns you around, makes you stand closer to him, chests almost pressing together. And then, he places your arm across his shoulders, and Homelander freezes.

He doesn't know why, not really, but the feeling of your plush flesh against his sends a wave of paralyzing shivers down his spine. Surprisingly, not of arousal, but something else entirely. Something he refused to recognize. 

Your eyes flicker to his, eyebrows twitching in a display of curiosity, as you feel him tense under your hand. He doesn't like it, the way you seem to see right through him, like he's made of glass. Like you can sense his thoughts, his very soul. 

Annoyingly perceptive.

His mouth opens, so close to a biting, threatening comment, but before anything comes out, the pressure on his shoulder lessens, before disappearing completely. Eyes flickering to the side, he can see the way your hand hovers, just millimeters from his costume, maintaining the illusion of contact. 

Anger is his natural reaction, embedded into the very core of his being. He doesn't want to recognize the flood of relief at the lack of contact, he doesn't want to understand the implications. And most importantly, he absolutely hates, that it's you. Once again, you've managed to read him like a fucking book, and took it all in without even moving a muscle. 

Thoughts swirl inside his brain, and he's so focused on the noticable lack of your touch, that he doesn't hear the photographer until the third time.

The next couple of poses go in that exact manner. The photographer tells you how to pose, and you do so, keeping your body hovering over Homelander's. 

He refuses to recognize the flicker of gratitude in his gut. He's never grateful, he's a fucking superhero, and physical touch is not something he's shied away from. Yet, he can't deny, that small show of respect, not directed towards his power, but rather, his own preference... Strange.

You're strange, you're infuriating. Your hair looks so soft, despite the gallons of product they dumped onto it.

He gravitates towards you after the shoot ends, when all the staff is slowly packing up, flickering out of the room in a river of insignificance. You're standing by the makeup table, Ashley at your side, explaining something with that same 'i'm going to have a heart attack any moment', terrified stare. He watches with mild interest, as your presence alone seems to slow the ginger's heart.

Your ribs seem to be healed over by this point, he watches some lingering, floating pieces of bone, as they fit into the puzzle of your insides. He takes a step closer, suddenly mesmerized by the way your blood vessels connect, reaching towards each other. Joining hands.

The sound of your laughter cuts through his thoughts like a knife, and he blinks up towards your face, noting deep in his brain the different types, different sounds of your joy. It's such a strange observation, he stuns himself for a moment. But then again, there's no one but himself to police his thoughts. What goes on in his mind, stays within. No corporate restrictions, no paparazzi, no Stillwell. Just him, and the soft chuckle you just let out, light, breezy, barely a sound really. 

He's caught in the middle of replaying the way your voice carried above the music, back at the party, where he listened to you, and only you, floating above the roof like a dark omen. That cracking, unrestrained sound, which both irritated him, and brought a strange feeling of confusion, swirling in his stomach. So different from your Fireball persona, from the soft, high-pitched sounds you were emitting while in the Tower, constantly under surveillance. 

- Just don't blow it - Ashley sighs, a swan song of her professionalism, and the wink you give her is nothing short of diabolical

- I never blow jobs without a "please" first - you shoot back, stunning both the redhead, and the lurking Homelander into silence.

It's almost a relief to him, when the familiar tightness around the lower section of his suit manifests itself at your words. He greets it like an old friend. 

Would he ask for it? Would he twist his face into a pleading expression, would he guide you down, a steady hand on your shoulder, as he repeats "please" like it's a prayer? He shudders at the mental image, his fingers curling into fists so tight, the leather of his gloves starts to creak. 

When your conversation with Ashley finishes, he follows you out the room, a small distance behind, and he truly doesn't know what compels his legs to move forward. He doesn't understand the need, that's suddenly manifested itself somewhere in the darker parts of himself. All he knows, is that he walks behind you like a shadow, through the corridors of the ground level of the Tower, ignoring the looks of awe and inspiration from all the inconsequential workers. 

They filter like ants around the two of you, faces rising from their computers, abandoning their lunches in favor of gaping at the unexpected pair, that's slowly but surely making it's way towards the smoking area. 

All the while, that ridiculously short, plaid skirt sways to the sound of the only two words, rattling around in his brain, as he observes your movements.

Ripe. Plump. Ripe. Plump. Ripe. Plump.

It would be so easy, he thinks again, to just pull you away. He knows every nook and cranny of this place. Every shadowed broom closet, every blind spot of the cameras. He has used and abused all those places, burned their existence into the mind of many, many women. 

There are walls in this building, which are most definitely lacking your body pressed into them. His hands itch. They would fit so nicely under the plush flesh of your thighs, sinking into them, holding them apart. It would be child's play at this point. 

And he knows Madelyn made you sign an NDA, he's seen the intricate lines of your name on the white paper. No one would stop him, and yet...

The smoking area is relatively empty. You find a spot at a table near the large window overlooking the street, and he says nothing, as he slinks into the chair opposite yours. Finally, you look up at him, tilting your head to the side, like you're trying to read something out of the schooled, passive expression on his face. He doesn't like it, the way your eyes drill into him, like you're peeling away some layers he doesn't even know are there. 

He's supposed to be the one doing the peeling. 

- So - you start, and he immediately snaps his attention to the tone of your voice - That was fucking exhausting, wasn't it?

Higher register, breathy quality. You're talking to him like he's one of them. One of Vaught, one of the press, like he didn't see your trembling body on the floor of the office.

Anger flares within him at the revelation, and your breath catches in your throat as without warning, the sound of a chair scraping roughly on the tiled floor fills the air. Homelander pushes himself right next to you, his hand clamping down like a vice around your wrist, holding it tightly on your lap, the leather of his gloves squeaking in protest.

Your eyes widen a fraction, muscles tensing at the unexpected proximity, and your gaze darts around the smoking area, taking in the noticable lack of other people.

- The fu...-

He cuts you off quickly, his grip tightening to an almost bruising intensity.

- Don't ever use that voice with me. - his voice is low, a hint of a warning hidden in every syllable.

For just a second your eyebrows furrow in plain confusion, and then, realization hits the both of you like a freight train. 

This isn't you. You're not here.

You didn't know. You didn't notice until he pointed it out. Slow horror blossoms on your face, breath catching in your freshly healed trachea, as you blink up at him. 

A mixture of emotions swirls in his gut. 

They almost got you. For just a second you were completely immersed in the fantastical, corporate creation, this hellish place wanted you to be. So immersed in fact, you forgot your own voice. Fireball, like a greedy parasite, has taken root in your system, sucking away your person hood. Just like he is trained to always smile towards the camera, his face twisting every time, like a compulsion he can't get rid of. 

Your shoulders sag, this unexplainable heaviness returning to your bones. He will remember this moment for years to come, long after the contract has ended, this small flicker of understanding, however damning it might be, will forever cement itself into his very being. The first time you've ever recognized, that there's more to him, that he knows he's not the only thing you're fighting.

Because in this small moment, despite the animosity, the tension, the downright horrible thoughts and actions he's taken against you, will take against you, both of you know the horrible truth. The price to pay for stepping a foot in his world, even momentarily. 

- You will never lie to me - he says like it's an universally accepted fact, not a request.

And you nod, a sudden jerk of your head, hair jumping around your face, because there's no other way. He'll sniff out lies from the very essence of your being, but more than that, you're slowly growing more desperate to maintain this flicker of kinship. Your only chance at establishing a connection, at worming yourself into his brain as something more than just a piece of fuckable meat. 

You will take any crumb at this point. Any way to ensure he sees you as something more, than a toy to play with and discard. To earn your safety amongst his heated stares, and pages upon pages of contracts. Stillwell won't protect you from him anymore, that much has become obvious, the moment she made you sign an NDA. Now it's your job to make sure it'll never be used against you. 

Which is why, your lips part, tongue running over your teeth, as if chasing the lingering taste of Fireball's voice in your mouth. So you can recognize it earlier, cut it out like a tumor, before it consumes you. 

- Thank you - he shudders, as that phrase leaves your lips once again, so reminiscent of your time in his penthouse, and yet so distinctly different. 

His jaw twitches under his skin, eyes blinking in rapid succession, and you can almost feel the way the bones of his hand creak, as he detaches himself from your wrist. There are indents in your flesh, in places where he pushed just a bit too far, but as soon as the pressure's gone, you can feel your skin spring back into its original state.

The chair scrapes once again, a shrill sound in the silence of the room, and with a terrifying mixture of emotions, your eyes glue themselves to the image of the American flag on his back, as he all but flees the place. For the first time, since you've landed here, he's the one retreating. But it doesn't feel like victory, it feels like the executioner's axe.

The next day, you spot your friend sitting at that same table, right in front of the window overlooking the street, where just yesterday he sat in that very chair. They notice you immediately, face twisting into a bright grin, as your heavy boots thud against the tiled floor. 

You absolutely, viscerally hate seeing them here, in this suffocating, terrible place. Alas, Stillwell made herself clear. This meeting is arranged during your working hours, and as such, must take place in the Tower. Despite that, you can't help the heartbreaking feeling, that tears your chest apart as they wave at you.

You've missed them, so incredibly hard, for just a moment you're willing to forget, that the walls of this building quite literally have ears. That there's always someone watching your every movement. That he's watching, listening in.

- Good God, look at you - your friend huffs a laugh, and wraps their arms around you, finally making the faux leather of the corset somewhat bearable - You look like an industry plant.

- That's cause I am an industry plant - you smile against their cheek, revelling in the way your voice finally sounds like it's supposed to.

Ignoring the gnawing feeling of unease, you sit back in your chair, forcing the image of Homelander to the very back of your mind. You might never be safe in here, but this  small reprieve, you'll take in stride. God only knows, you need some familiarity.

- How are the wedding preparations? - you ask, grabbing your phone from their hand, reunited at last 

- Well, I had no idea there's so many flowers to choose from, lemme tell you that much - they huff, and your lips pull back into a smile on their own accord.

It's so easy to forget where you are, when they're near, when they're teasing the Smirnoff out of you. It's like their sheer presence here stomped hard on Fireball's neck, forcing her to stay down, to know her place. 

You needed that.

With practiced ease, your fingers fish out a pack of cigarettes from your cleavage, the only place you could've hidden them, considering your super suit doesn't have any pockets. And with an even more practiced smirk, your friend produces a lighter. The exchange happens naturally. They pluck one cig from the package, light yours up, and then their own. 

The scent of smoke fills your nose, biting and grounding at the same time. The feeling of nicotine slowly trickling into your system, a tightness in your lungs, makes your shoulders sag ever so slightly. 

- I'm surprised they let you smoke - your friend muses, cloud of gray curling around their mouth - Not very 'superhero of the people' of you.

You scoff, your eyes rolling.

- I swear, everytime I pull one out, they all look at me, like I'm snorting coke in front of a fucking preschooler.

You're well aware just how bitter your voice sounds, and as much as your friend tries to maintain the easy going smile, there's a flicker of deep-rooted concern. 

- They really made you into something else, huh? - they ask, voice quiet and almost mournful

- Five more months - you sigh, trying to take some consolation in the passage of time, however hopeless it may be. - "Life is a Cabaret, old chum..."

The quote hangs heavily between the two of you, twisting your faces into mirror images of sardonic smiles, as the utter ridiculousness of your situation falls on you like a weighted blanket. Smoke fills the space, lingering around your heads, before inevitably it gets sucked away by the ventilation system. For a second, you wish, you could ingrain this scent, this nauseating stink of chemicals into your very being, somehow sink it into your blood.

 Perhaps this way, you'd finally feel safe. Perhaps it would make him repulsed enough to leave your shadow.

It's quiet for a moment. The hum of the air conditioning, and the distant sounds of lively New York streets combining into a harmony of your current life, drowning you in the unchanging rhythm of the big city. Your mind starts to wonder, towards the ever-seeing eyes of your mentor. If he sees you now, what is he thinking? Is he planning some elaborate way to twist your very being to his liking? 

No. Not after your last conversation. 

Surely, it would be easier, if he had just accepted Fireball as your ultimate, perfect image. You were a good actress, and exceptional liar. You could've pulled it off. But of course, he wants you. He wants Smirnoff. And by God, that thought twists your guts into a mixture of fear and disgust. 

Why won't he just let you pretend?

- So, how's Mister America? - your friend's voice brings you back, pulls you away from your darkening thoughts, and wrenches a heavy, tired sigh right out of your lungs. 

You can't tell them. 

You're contractually obligated never to say a word. Still, they can read you like an open book, having spent years of their life getting used to the twists and turns of your expression. So, when you look up at them, through haze of cigarette smoke and unspoken words, they understand without a second of delay. 

Their face falls, that smirk you've known so well, trampled by an image of pure worry. It doesn't take a genius to see the undercurrent of fear, the acceptance of the inevitable flowing from your eyes like a broken faucet. 

- Oh...

Yeah. Oh. 

What else is there to say? What words could bring you comfort in this mess? Truth is, as much as you'd hate to admit it, you've brought this upon yourself, the moment you sat in Stillwells office. The moment you saw the CCTV footage, and still decided to sign that damned non-disclosure. You should've ran for the hills. Pack your pride, pack your bleeding heart, and hide back in your house, between boxes of your mother's belongings, between your sister's old posters. Under your old diploma, and all the other trash you're never going to use again. 

But here you are. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

- You have no idea... - the words seem to run out of your mouth on their own, carried away on the hands of cigarette smoke.

- Did he hurt you?

Now you laugh. A bitter, grating sound that hurts both your ears, and your heart. Because yes, of course he did hurt you. But how can you explain, that in that very moment you felt more seen, more alive, than you've had for years of your life? How does one even begin to comprehend such terrible truth, not to mention saying it out loud. 

And how do you explain, that physical violence is not the part you're worried about?

- That's... - you pause, raking your brain for something, any phrase that wouldn't endanger the contract, while still describing your hopeless situation - That's not the worst thing, that can (will) happen to me here.

There. You can see, by their sharp intake of breath, that suddenly they understand in fullness. Their throat bobs around a nervous swallow.

- What's your plan? - your friend asks, leaning closer, their elbows sliding on the glass table - You have to protect yourself somehow, this can't... You can't. 

- I don't know - the admission feels both hopeless and cathartic - I thought I did, but I don't. All I know is, I need to make myself irreplacable. I need to be entertaining enough, without loosing the last fucking shreds of dignity I have. Damned if I do, damned if I don't otherwise. 

Another moment of heavy silence falls between the two of you. The tiles on the floor start to merge together, as tears spring into your eyes. Pathetic, really. You promised yourself not to cry, and yet, despite still being inside the belly of the beast, your friend's presence brings out, well... You. 

Their tone of voice is soft, measured, when they say your name, and your eyes flicker towards them, wetness gathering on the ends of your fake eyelashes.

They hold your gaze for a moment, something akin to determination flowing in tides across their face. 

- So, saying "Yes", and saying "No" are out of question. - they muse, and you nod, a single, tense jerk of your head - Then there's only one answer. 

You blink, confused. The cigarette sizzles, as they chuck it into a half empty paper cup of black coffee, smoke rising into the air, before it's extinguished completely. Elbows slide across the glass table, as they lean in closer towards you, as if sharing some incredibly juicy secret. 

You can see the small mole on their cheek is dusted with a bit of makeup powder. 

- The answer is, "Maybe."

[britney-rosberg06]

I need like cuddle related headcanons of the Williams fam bc I am living vicariously through them rn

cuddle headcanons coming right up

most of these feature Logan cause he yearns for physical contact

The most common place to find Logan and Alex on long flights are layed down next to each other on the couch

^ this is very much the vibe

simply do to height difference Logan is always the one who’s head rests on the shoulder/chest

Something Alex will not hesitate to complain about

Apparently Logan’s head is “bony” and not comfortable

A large part of James camera roll is the two sprawled on top of each other sound asleep

It takes a while for Logan to feel comfortable enough around James to cuddle with him

But of course, after Qatar, all that went out the window

He had lacked parental affection for so long that once the seal broke there was no going back

When he and Alex have meetings with James, he’ll lay down James’s office couch with his head on his lap.

James’ll card his fingers through his hair throughout the meeting, though sometimes he has to shake him to wake him up

Alex and James don’t really have a very cuddly relationship, but if he is up to late trust Alex is curling into a ball and leaning into James until he puts an arm around him so he can relax

Not really cuddle hc but Casual Touch is something that is So Important to them

Whether is Logan slinging his arm across Alex’s shoulder and walking through the paddock

Or James resting his hand on Logan’s cheek they are very rarely far from a loving touch

James will something kiss the top of their head just very quickly

Especially whenever they hug

It would be weird, for James not to kiss their forehead of head after giving them a hug at this point.

Logan is Very Sleepy all the time and this results in a Sleeping Logan that Alex and James must deal with.

Most of the time they’ll pull him off his sleeping spot and take him to the hotel

After which Alex will crawl into bed with him, and take advantage of his sleepy teammate by being the one to lean into him rather than the other way around.

James will hold them both, especially if they’re not feeling well and rub their backs while whispering soothing words.

Theyre just so

Ugh i love them

[rainbow-femme]

So obviously I love just how much LGBTQ+ media exists now, and how much media has LGBTQ+ characters in it, but something Gen Z and later generations will never experience is being so desperate for anything that you end up finding the weirdest gay indie movies imaginable, watching them once at 2 am and then never seeing them again, and being haunted by the half remembered plots because you cannot for the life of you track them down again

So I would like to give you that experience vicariously through two of the ones I watched over a decade ago. If you recognize these please let me know I would love to track them down

The first was about this French gay dude in America who was marrying a lesbian friend to get a green card, and his boyfriend is like

“Hey babe my sibling is coming to town and going to stay with us.”

And the French guy goes “That seems like a bad idea, on account of you telling me that every time they come into town they become super toxic and make you the worst version of yourself and ruin your life.”

And the boyfriend is like “Ok but what are the odds that would happen again.”

The sibling I’m going to use they/them for because in an example of wonderful handling of trans characters, this person continually changes their mind about their gender, which is fine, except they keep managing to get full sex change surgeries every time it happens which is absolutely wild to me because it’s implied they have fully transitioned multiple times. They come into town having had a full MTF transition to the point of both top and bottom surgery and hormones but they’ve decided they’re a man again so they want a place to crash while they have a full FTM transition and I feel like I vividly remember them saying something about finding a doctor who can make them a pair of testicles. Like, specifically testicles was what they brought up, no other bits, this doctor apparently only made and attached artificial testicles and this character decided to start there

So naturally they start isolating the boyfriend from everyone by convincing him that everyone is out to get him and his French boyfriend sucks and is holding him back to the point that the boyfriend I’m pretty sure starts physically abusing the French guy along with other emotional abuse

And the story culminates in the two of them tipping off immigration about the green card marriage and literally get this dude deported, like he is handcuffed and put into a car and taken away, and also probably screwing over the lesbian friend who had agreed to marry him after the boyfriend had asked her to do it to help them

And as the car is driving away the boyfriend looks at the sibling and gives a “Nuh uh, I’m done with you” head shake and starts chasing after the car the French dude is in only to be hit by a different car and presumably killed

And that’s it, that’s the movie

The second is probably my favorite half remembered middle of the night gay movie

It’s about two lesbian friends who seem to be trying out dating each other to see if the relationship would work, and they end up meeting a group of BDSM lesbians who go “Uh, didn’t anyone tell you that lesbians don’t do monogamy anymore? We’re all polyamorous and have BDSM subculture personalities that we live in 24/7, that’s the only way to be a lesbian”

(Side note I don’t think this movie is actually bad about BDSM or polyamory stuff, it’s more about how people just coming out can easily get sucked into doing what they think they should and end up unhappy and over their heads in order to fit what a “real [X] person” looks or acts like. The characters who legitimately enjoy the lifestyle seem to be written in a good way based off my 10+ year old memory of my single viewing)

So the two lesbians decide that one is going to full time be a Daddy personality and the other will be a Little Girl personality, and they can sleep with whoever they want except the Daddy one can’t sleep with a different Little Girl or vice versa because that’s cheating

And this movie was so good because these two had 100% no knowledge of what they were actually supposed to do in BDSM situations and just kept acting like they did and the people in the scenes were like “… Ok, I guess I’ll trust you’re going somewhere with this?” and they never were, they were always just stalling for time

The best example is when the Little Girl one met a butch sub who was a Little Boy, I guess, and she wanted to do a three way with the Little Boy and the Daddy, and again they take things pretty literally so in the scene they’re like “ok you’re my dad and this is my son so that means you’re his grandpa.” And the Daddy one again has no idea what to do when genuinely faced with an experienced sub so she goes “Um, let’s make him sit in a box?” so they get a comically small box and make the sub squat down in it but again they have no idea what to do next and it culminates in the Little Girl saying she’s being drawn between the Daddy one she had been into before all of this and the Little Boy one she just met which pisses off the Daddy one so she leaves, fully confusing the Little Boy sub who thought that was all part of the scene

And then the Daddy one decides if the other is gonna have a new person she will too and she finds a super experienced femme domme and tries to flirt by pretending to be a dog and bringing her something in her mouth and the femme domme is just like “Ok A. I know you’re not actually into this so I’m not going to do anything to you because you wouldn’t like it, but also B. Even if you were I am so far above your experience level you would not be able to take it. So WTF is your problem cut it out.”

And there’s like a BDSM spin the bottle where you kiss or smack or lick the boot of whoever you land on and the Daddy one kisses a different Little Girl which pisses of the original Little Girl so she storms off so the Daddy One fully sleeps with the second one, and then gets in a fight with the original one over how one cheated because she got with the same archetype as the other but the other also cheated because she actually got feelings for someone else

And somehow they resolve everything and the story ends with them turning this into a performance art piece. You don’t see the actual performance art, probably because the writers wanted them to get wild applause but couldn’t think of a performance art piece based on this that would actually earn wild applause so you just see them being applauded while wearing a bunch of ties and jackets and scarves and stuff to I guess symbolize them trying to be things they weren’t

And then you see the butch sub getting whipped or spanked or something by the femme domme to show that everyone got their happily ever after

Heartstopper is great and all but they just don’t make ‘em like that anymore

[neonpaperlanterns]

Let me unclip your wings

Chapter Three: The first warning

[Pt 1] [Pt2]

“Your admirer is back~” Capri sang as she peaked out into the lounge through the curtains. “How many days does that make it now?” The other woman threw a cheshire grin over her shoulder at Wren.

“Three I believe.” Wren moved up behind Capri, curiosity imploring her to seek out the eyes of the man who she’s taken to singing for. He wasn’t hard to find and apparently neither was she. Heat flooded her cheeks, gazes met through the low light and perfumed smoke. A wide toothy smile spread across his face, head tilting in acknowledgment. Embarrassment drove her backwards, out of sight as she pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“Are you going to talk to him tonight?” Capri stared up at her, hopeful. Wren got the impression that she was being used, in a way. She’s never seen Capri take an interest in any of their customers, not even the ones that hinted at their own interest. But if anyone else exchanged heated looks or the most innocent of smiles she would descend upon them. Poking, prodding, and pushing to know what was going on. Wren didn’t think she was trying to live vicariously through others, she didn’t need to but Capri simply got more joy out of this than pursuing any of her own ventures.

“If she knows what’s good for her she won't.” Alba snapped, causing all eyes to turn towards her. The older woman’s expression was marred with a deep scowl. 

“All of you would do well to leave those pirates well enough alone.” A finger was pointed accusingly at each of the entertainers. 

“Aw Alba don’t you think you’re being just a bit too~” Capri trailed off as she gestured at all of the blonde. Alba just scoffed, arms crossed as she leveled the room with a look that could turn them all to stone.

“You think I am being overly dramatic? You think I want to ruin your fun?” The tone she used was frigid. “I know you-” She gestures at Capri “Think this is all a game and that nothing could possibly go wrong but it can and it will.” Alba’s face softened for a moment. 

“I’m telling you all this because I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. They’ll tell you things you want to hear, make sweet promises and make you feel like you are the only one but you aren’t.” Alba looked over at Wren. “Don’t let him use you because he will. They all do.” 

“And she wont.” Capri slid up and wrapped her arms around Wren’s waist, a round chin coming up to rest on her shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t live a little.” Long lashes fluttered at Alba.

“There is no harm in enjoying another's company no matter how non-committal or brief.” Wren watched Alba deflate at Capri’s words. The older woman walked away, her head shaking sadly as she muttered to herself. 

“Don’t let yourself become a bitter old primadona like her. Talk to him.” Capri whispered in her ear.

“Maybe if my set goes well.” Wren attempted to shrug nonchalantly but with the condition set the shorter red-head’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh it will~” Capri sang, her willowy frame disappearing out onto the floor. Wren did not understand Capri’s unending fascination with other people's lives. Nor her desire to meddle in some way or the other. Yet if this is how she is able to secure her sets from being interrupted tonight then she would happily take it.

She was always going to talk to him after anyways.

And as the lights dimmed, her voice slowly petering out over the peaceful crowd Wren felt a smile play across her face. Kid sat front and center, his gaze never leaving hers even as the curtains closed. His attention had made her heart race and it took everything not to go find him immediately. But she had an image to uphold and as much as she didn’t want it Alba’s voice was speaking in her ear just as much as Capri’s. 

So she would make him wait, at least a little bit.

Being more meticulous than usual she changed. Her dress was carefully hung back up in the closet of her changing room, checked over for any tears or stains. Her shoes were given a similar treatment. Everything was put back in order and she even brushed her hair twice. Looking over at the clock she noted that she’s been back here for five minutes longer than usual. She’s made him and herself wait long enough. Opening the door Wren is met with a broad chest and a wicked smile. Leaning against the frame, Kid looked down at her his eyes dancing playfully.

“I was told you wanted to see me?” His voice dripped with confidence and Wren was going to kill Capri.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Vicarious (Part 6)

She has a whole list of rules for him to follow that will make his life in hers as easy as possible while simultaneously adding much more stress. And all that he can give her are a few dietary notes and some blush inducing tips on how to care for a masculine body. Her own feminine care tips aren’t any less awkward. But they certainly needed to get that out of the way, lest they find out on their own.

He skims the parchment again. The lettering is so neat and delicate. So dainty and pretty.

Bathe every day; remember to use my special soap–it smells like coconut and has bamboo leaves in it. If you use the wrong soap and get a rash, talk to Qi-Xing, she has an ointment.

Comb my hair every day; be gentle with it, no snagging.

For the sake of simplicity sea foods are off limits. I can eat some sea foods but am allergic to most. 

Change out of your sleep attire before going out.

Some of it is perfectly reasonable and plenty helpful. He is going to miss seafood, but at least that rule has fair reasoning to back it. Perhaps under ordinary circumstances the rest would be just as fair too. But even before finding his soul trapped in her body he could tell that her death preparations had been her first time bathing in quite some time. Her hair is at least some degree of unkempt. And now she expects him to do the things that she couldn’t be bothered with? 

He tries to be understanding. He knows how hard it can be sometimes. But it is hard when she is placing expectations on him that she couldn’t uphold herself. Things that go against his own nature. 

Don’t laugh or talk too loudly.

Mind your table manners; no loud chewing, no talking with your mouth full, feet don’t belong on the table, wait your turn to take food and seasonings, etc.

Don’t overdo the mochi.

I have a firebending routine once in the morning and once before bed; I have placed some scrolls in my training room that will walk you through my katas. If it is beyond your skills find a suitable substitute. Do not let my body get out of shape.

I require at least eight hours of sleep. 

Frankly he doesn’t know if this is fair either. It feels as though she is demanding that he take better care of her body than she has been lately. And she can’t tell him that she has been taking care of herself, not with the gashes–the one he knew about already and the smaller ones that he has noticed on her arms. She can’t tell him that she has been taking care of herself, not when her body is so fatigued and hard to navigate in. Everything feels so sluggish and weighted. Her limbs feel so tight–cramped with disuse.

How can she demand things of him that she isn’t willing to do herself?

Don’t say anything ridiculous. No stupid jokes. No terrible political opinions.

Do not issue any apologies that I wouldn’t give.

Do not try to arrange any romantic partnerships on my behalf.

And don’t let any know that we have switched. 

She closes the list with those awkward feminine care tips. “Because I know that you’ll probably forget and these are important.” And now he feels bad for not offering her the same. He probably should write up a little something in case he isn’t around to answer questions. She is always so neat, tedious, and organized. He likes to think himself a smart man but the levels and layers she thinks in are nearly incomprehensible. He enjoys logic and reasoning, enjoys figuring out how things work. But he is a forward thinker–simple and to the point while remaining smart and creative. Azula…

She works in layers and complexities. In traps and tricks that he is hard pressed to figure out. 

And now he is supposed to emulate that. He is supposed to become that.

“Any questions?” Azula asks. 

Sokka shakes his head. Other than, “do you really expect me to be able to do all of this.” But he doesn’t dare put that question past his lips. 

“Well then. Where is your list?” 

“I—I didn’t make one.”

To his surprise she only shrugs. “Then you can’t hold me responsible for anything that goes wrong. I requested a written list. If you can’t be bothered with that then…”

“You get to make my life as shitty as yours?” The words erupt from him before he can suppress them. “It’s not enough to sabotage yourself, you have to ruin me too?” The tickle of rage in his belly shifts promptly into a tickle of dread. She can make very easy work of destroying all of his friendships, just the way she had expertly set her own friendships up to fail.

He watches his own face go deadpan. “Just write me a list.” He hadn’t realized just how cold his voice could be. 

“I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“List.” 

One word. 

Just one word and he finds himself shuddering. 

He is alone in her room. Alone in a way that he had never been before and with the sense that he is only going to grow lonelier.

.oOo.

She had been hoping that he would have the list ready for her by dinner time. Even a few base rules would have been nice. 

She shouldn’t be so anxious, the humiliation and mistakes will be Sokka’s to face soon enough. It isn’t her own life and reputation on the line so why should she care? Why does she care? Why does it bother her so much that she is so woefully underprepared for this?

Everything is already perfectly in place for her. They already like her. All she has to do is not make a mess of that. It shouldn’t be so hard. 

It shouldn't have been so hard to become the Fire Lord either. Her life had been so perfectly laid out for her then too and she had still ruined that. 

“Hey, Sokka!” Toph greets.

She gives the girl a quick wave and takes her seat. 

“I said hello, Sokka!”

“Oh right. Blind.” She mutters to herself. “I waved to you.”

“You really need to stop forgetting about that.” Toph grumbles.

Azula breathes a soft sigh of relief. At least that sort of carelessness is typical of Sokka but she can’t afford to make any more hiccups like this. They will all pile up eventually.

Eventually but also nowhere near as quickly as something like watching herself emerge from the hallway.  

She grits her teeth. How could he have forgotten that it isn’t at all typical for her to make an appearance at dinner? It is simple, she realizes–she had given him instructions on table manners. She had all but told him that she expected him to join the others for dinner. How had she forgotten to put that on her list of things not to do? It would have been as simple as adding, “keep your head low and don’t draw attention to yourself; I eat breakfast very early, lunch is taken directly to my room, I have dinner an hour after everyone else.”

“Azula?” Zuko’s brows scrunch.

Instinctively she opens her mouth. Mercifully, Sokka speaks first. It is a stiff and simple, “hello, Zuzu.”

She supposes that that isn’t something that she wouldn’t say, although it also wouldn’t be her first choice of greeting. 

“You decided to join us for dinner?”

“Is that a problem?” It is spoken too much like a question for her liking. She would have made it flatter, more pointed. Almost a hiss even. The expression Sokka puts on her face isn’t nearly dark enough. 

“We just didn’t expect you, that’s all.” Aang cuts in with a smile.

And that’s just the thing. She very well shouldn’t be there. Had she had her way they would have had no reason at all to think that she would ever be joining them again. Yet here she is both already seated and taking a seat.

“You should be resting.” Katara says lightly. “Waterbending can fix a lot but you still need to take it easy.”

“Why do you care?” Azula asks as nonchalantly as she possibly can with her mind buzzing and humming with anticipation. Anticipation to get the confirmation she needs; that nobody wants her. Nobody cares what happens to her.

“Sokka!” Katara exclaims. 

“What?” Azula shrugs. “We weren’t talking to her before, why get friendly now? Last I checked, we weren’t supposed to trust her.” 

.oOo.

Sokka’s stomach drops. He had anticipated that Azula wouldn’t do anything to help him shoulder her burdens but he certainly hadn’t expected her to actively partake in making life harder. He supposes that he probably should have guessed as much given the circumstances. 

“He has a point.” Mai shrugs. “I always did hate it when people suddenly started talking really nicely about a horrible person after they died.” 

Sokka takes a breath. She isn’t talking about him. She isn’t talking about him…he just has to keep repeating that and maybe he’ll get through this dinner. Maybe he should retreat back to Azula’s room. But Azula wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t run.  “I’m not dead.”  He replies simply. 

Across the table the real Azula tilts her head. 

Tilts it as if to say that she practically is. 

“We don’t have to get along with her to be civil.” Katara says. “You can sit next to…” She grimaces. The only open seat is the one taken by his body. “Be nice to her, Sokka.” She hears Katara hiss. 

“Yeah, Sokka!” Toph agrees. “I like my food hot, but it doesn’t need to be on fire.” 

Sokka slips into his chair, his head spinning at the sound of his own laughter. He doesn’t know what is more unsettling; that tearing Azula apart sounds so natural on his lips or that she can so easily laugh at a joke made at her expense.

He has plenty of time to think it over and decide. 

They don’t talk to him for the rest of dinner. 

Katara doesn’t talk to Azula either. It is strange, Mai and Zuko aside, Katara had always been the least comfortable with Azula being back at the palace. Back at the palace and mostly free to do as she pleases. Mai and Zuko aside, Sokka was under the impression that Katara hated Azula the most. 

.oOo.

Azula hadn’t been particularly hard pressed to flee the dinner table but she hadn’t exactly wanted to linger. Certainly not long enough for Sokka to catch her alone in the hallway. “Why? Why would you do that!?”

Azula quirks a brow. “Elaborate please.” The words aren’t so dainty and pseudo-sweet coming from Sokka’s lungs.

“You put me on the spot like that? I was trying to help you…I don’t know…” He falters. “Make a connection with all of them.”

“Just trying to stay in character.” She shrugs. 

Fury mixes with astonishment. Azula’s heart catches, it is like watching herself address Mai at the Boiling Rock. Her voice is just as incredulous when Sokka uses it to sputter, “I wouldn’t— Is that the kind of person you think I am? I wouldn’t treat you like that.”

Azula sniffs. “I know that you’re lying.” 

“No you don’t!” He throws his hands up. “Just because you have my body it doesn’t mean that you have my mind too. I wouldn’t treat you like that.” 

“You keep telling yourself that.” She sighs. “That’s the funny thing about you and your friends. You all think that you’re such nice people. That you’re so merciful and good. You pat yourselves on the back for letting the poor crazy princess come back to the palace unbound. The truth is, you did treat me like that.” She pauses. “Think about it, they didn’t suspect a thing.” 

“That’s not true. You’re messing with me again. You’re trying to get into my head and manipulate me. I wouldn’t treat you like that.”

“If you say so.” Azula shrugs. “We’ll see how confident you are in that within a few days.”

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 53 - Part 5

*Warning - Adult Content*

Landon Reilly

When I walked into my father's view, his wild eyes landed on me, practically piercing through my skin.

The bruise from what I assumed was Wren's punch was still visible but fading.

"Why am I not surprised," he sarcastically remarked.

"I knew you must be involved with this."

"We are not your kids," I said to him in a low tone as I walked closer.

"We are not your anything."

"You might not be but your sister is."

"My sister wants to leave and you're going to let her," I said, trying to keep my voice even and strong.

My father stepped into the house, pushing past Matthew as Matthew tried to hold him back.

It was no use.

He walked right through Matthew and stood toe to toe with me.

"You have struck my last nerve," he spat.

"I thought we had been over this but clearly our last encounter wasn't enough to get it through your head that you are to cease all contact with your sister."

"I don't care what you have to say," I replied, squaring my shoulders.

"I care about Olivia."

I wasn't going to let him intimidate me.

This time I wasn't going to be blindsided. I was ready for whatever he threw at me.

"She doesn't need you to care about her," he replied with a sinister smile.

"You are nothing to her. There is nothing you can do for her."

He was wrong and he was beginning to see it.

He was only acting so crazy because he knew Olivia couldn't stand him, that she wanted to be rid of him and Mom just as much as they wanted to be rid of me.

He couldn't stand that his perfect children didn't turn out the exact way he wanted them and he was beginning to realize Olivia wasn't his perfect little princess anymore.

"You're only angry because you've finally realized you've failed both of your kids," I snapped at him.

"Olivia and I need each other, more than we ever needed you."

His eyes bugged out of his head so he looked nearly unrecognizable.

"You are the one who failed me," he screamed, pointing his finger at me and then at his chest.

"I gave you everything. I set you up for success and you failed. If you had just done what I asked of you, if you had gone to the therapy instead of fighting it things would be different. You would still have a home. I would still love you"

I scoffed, shaking my head.

"You never loved me or Olivia. You love what ever version of us you have conjured in your head."

He stepped closer to me, clearly letting his anger fuel his body.

He was where I got my anger problems from and I hated him and myself for it.

"You don't like to hear it but you're not the father that you think you are," I continued before he could get another word in.

"You wanted to live vicariously through me more than you loved me. It was never that you wanted me to succeed. It was that any success I had felt like success for you and you know what? I'm so glad that I don't have to have anything to do with you anymore. You made my life miserable. Now I get to be the real me. Not just some version of you."

"You sound ridiculous," he snarled at me.

"And another thing, I never felt any love from you but I sure as hell feel it from my boyfriend and knowing how much you would hate the fact that your perfect Christian son is in love with a man, makes it even better."

That had struck a nerve with my father.

He reached for me, trying to pull me toward him but somebody grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from him.

I turned slightly and saw Wren out of the corner of my eye.

If I thought my father was angry to see me, he was downright livid to see Wren standing beside me.

"Where have you taken my daughter?" my father snapped at Wren, all his fury now directed at him.

I moved forward, putting Wren slightly behind me.

"She's safe from you because of him," I said, pointing a finger at him.

"This is it, huh? You had your little boyfriend come to the house and kidnap your sister?"

My father moved fast toward Wren, his hand outstretched like was going to grab him but I moved faster.

I put myself in front of Wren and lunged at my father, bringing my fist back and hitting him hard.

Wren came to stand beside me just as the police pulled up to the house.

We all turned to stare as the officer made his way up to the open front door.

Anne came forward and spoke to the officer, pointing at my father.

"Sir, you're being asked to leave the property," the officer said to him.

My father was seething.

Steam was practically coming out of his ears he was so angry but he walked out of the house and the officer walked him to his car.

He looked at me from his car, his face like a declaration of war.

He wasn't going to let Olivia ago without a fight but for her, it was a fight I was willing to have.

Wren pulled me close to him and turned as around, shielding me from the dark stare of my father.

"I called because I knew things were going to end badly if we didn't get him out of here," Anne said to us.

She stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said, my voice like gravel. I was sweating, still feeling anxious.

"I need to call Olivia."

Anne and Wren let go of me and I went into another room to call my sister.

She picked up on the fourth ring, laughing at something someone said to her.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Where are you right now?" I asked.

"Dad just came to the Hanson's house raging because I guess the police went to the house this morning and questioned him. He thinks Matthew or me called them. He's furious right now."

"I'm at Fawn's and I called the police," she said.

"So wait, what?" I asked.

"You called them?"

"Yeah, I called them and dropped off some evidence I had."

"Evidence? What evidence?"

"I had some recordings of conversations, my diet plan and calorie tracker, text messages," she listed.

"I just really don't want anyone making me go back there, so I thought I'd be thorough."

"Yeah, that's probably a good thing."

I was stunned and a little guilty, that Olivia had gone and done this on her own but mostly I was proud that she was advocating for herself.

She was a lot braver than I ever was.

"I'll talk to you later, okay? We're about to go to the mall," Olivia said after a few moments.

"Alright, have fun," I said.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

I walked back into the room, staring at my cell-phone with a stunned expression.

"What's wrong?" Wren asked, immediately at my side.

"It was Olivia," I said quietly, still staring at my phone.

"Olivia called the police. That's why they questioned him this morning."

Wren didn't look surprised.

"Did you know?" I wondered, training my eyes on him.

He shook his head.

"No but I'm not surprised. Your sister is smart."

I nodded in agreement, looking down at my cell-phone again before putting it in my pocket.

Wren stared at me for a moment before reaching his hand out for mine.

"Come on," he said.

"Let's go for a drive."

[four-comma-five-verse]

i hope this isn't an unwelcome addition :

He doesn't really remember what led to this point. A world meeting? Some press conference gone wrong? Tolys can’t recall.

Whatever might have been the start - the end is evident. There is blood on his hands. He feels it on his knuckles - an uncomfortable cover that fits like a glove.

And then there's that hateful face below Tolys - him - Ivan. He doesn't even look angry about the whole thing. Instead he chuckles, and shakes his head like one would to a misbehaving child.

"Oh, Tolushka," Ivan sighs, as blood drips down from his broken nose in a very satisfying arc, that ends dirtying Ivan's precious scarf. "Why do you always have to ruin a good thing? Why do you not want to be friends?"

Tolys screams.

It's not a guttural scream of rage – despite the fact that almost everyone around will then describe it to the journalists and their bosses and anyone else who asks as such. The scream is instead frustration personified.

There is a hot, smouldering coal where Tolys's heart should be - and it burns as Ivan becomes more and more unrecognisable, but there is also a cold, hard, sharpened certainty - there is no winning combination in this 'battle of wits' that Tolys is getting baited into, there is nothing he can say or has said that will make Ivan stop looking at him like that - because to Ivan he is nothing more than a pretty trophy to display to his more important friends.

Ivan doesn't want to be friends with Nations like him - he wants toys - pretty and obedient. There is a tiny speck of Tolys that allows himself the idea that maybe to Ivan friends and toys got mixed up somewhere along the way - that maybe there is something to pity here.

But that pity is a grace Tolys can't find himself allowing to the man below him.

There are not a lot of languages they both understand, and Tolys refuses to speak to him in the one Ivan prefers, so violence it has to be.

How could he possibly explain to anyone else that Ivan never calls him by his proper name? Only uses his human one - usually with a Russian diminutive. How could he possibly explain what that means to anybody else?

Then - he feels a pressure somewhere on his back. Then his elbows. He feels himself getting torn off Ivan more than he sees it. There is something below him - and then suddenly - there isn't.

"Oh dear Christ," He hears someone say. "Will you calm down? This is really no way to go about doing things!"

Half the people in the room are looking at him like a wild animal.

Some look at him with pity.

Some? Some have their sights on the way red drips on the floor below Ivan and their eyes shine with a primal envy. A hunger.

It's not a sight that is foreign to Tolys - not after they all had to spend their lives together under a flag just as red as Ivan's blood. Living vicariously through other people’s rebellions was a staple in their 'happy family'.

"Are you okay?" Someone asks Ivan and the smile he gives them in return is so pathetic Tolys wants to vomit.

"I'm sturdier than I look! Luckily I didn't get a concussion!" Ivan laughs.

'Look at how reasonable I'm acting' - Ivan seems to project. 'One can’t fault me in my actions if this is how I'm treated!'

Then - Ivan's head is bashed in with a beer bottle.

“Oops,” says Raivis, actually managing to look slightly sorry about the whole thing (the man has a gift really – no wonder so many people still see him as a soft, innocent young lad) “Sorry! Looks like you’ll still get that concussion yet!”

Huh, Tolys thinks, usually he goes last.

Then another beer bottle got bashed against Ivan’s head and Tolys thought: ah, he just didn’t want to waste the good liquor, got it. Eduard seemed to instead have opted to waste Raivis’s brought ‘best alcohol – drunkenness against price way’ that even he himself admitted was not drinkable sober.

“You are all going to get in trouble for this, you know that right?” Someone – probably Ludwig, from the frantic, stuck-up way he sounds – says.

Tolys didn't find it in himself to care that much.

I need more content of Tolys beating the shit out of Ivan.

[loveinhawkins]

Steve heads outside at about 10pm, hoping that the frigid night air will wake him up a bit. He’s conscious of the fact that he’s hardly been in the party spirit, trying and failing to stifle a yawn behind the lone bottle of beer he’d sipped at before abandoning it on Robin’s kitchen counter.

It’s less a New Year’s Eve party, he thinks, and more a relieved exhale. An I’m glad we’re all here kind of party.

There’s a swing bench out on the porch, and once he sits down, he kicks the whole thing back with his feet, the movement sending more fresh air his way. It turns his forearms to gooseflesh but does little to banish the drowsiness, as if it’s somehow been waiting all year to be felt…

“Hey,” comes a voice, and Steve startles back to awareness; Eddie is suddenly sitting down beside him. “Thought you’d absconded, Harrington.”

Steve smiles at the word—“You talk like you’re in a book, dude,” he’d teased earlier that evening, when Eddie and Robin were taking exaggerated swills of boxed wine, pretending to be sommeliers. Eddie had adopted a plummy accent, went on about “heady aromas” and “full bodied complexity” until Robin snorted wine out of her nose.

“Ah, Steve, Steve, Steve,” Eddie had said in delight, “that’s part of the fun, darling.”

And it was still delivered in that stupid accent, all part of the game, but it didn’t stop Steve from feeling a glow in his chest that had little to do with the wine they ‘sampled.’

Now Eddie’s voice is back to normal, if a little softer than usual, like he doesn’t want to disturb the stillness out here. “Thought I was gonna have to look for a glass slipper or something,” he goes on, and it takes a moment for Steve, lulled by the gentle cadence of Eddie’s words, to get the reference.

When he does, he snorts. “Bit early for that. But at this rate…” And he yawns again as he speaks, aiming for a self-deprecating shrug. “At this rate, I’m sorta doubting I’ll make it ‘til midnight.”

He’s expecting Eddie to lean into the teasing, call him ancient. But instead he just looks over with a fond smile and says, “I’m not surprised, man.”

Steve scoffs. “It’s not like I’ve really done anything.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Steve gives another shrug. “It’s the holidays, dude, not exactly taxing.”

“Nah, that’s not…” Eddie shakes his head slightly. “You can’t see it, huh?”

“Can’t see what?”

There’s a moment where Eddie just considers him. “Steve Harrington,” he drawls, almost like it’s a little song, like Steve is the one who’s a character in a book. Like he’s someone admirable. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, like, stop even once. And at first I thought…” He tilts a little closer on the swing, making it creak. “Like, ‘oh, that’s just how he is when the world’s ending’, right? But no. You’re like that all the damn time.”

Steve is far too tired to work out what ‘like that’ even means. He chuckles quietly, rubs at one of his eyes. “And, what, I can’t even keep going to see in the new year?”

“Eh, time’s a construct.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Steve says with absolutely no bite to it. “Midnight countdown is the one time when it matters.”

“Well.” Eddie nods his head as if to say fair point. “We could time travel.”

Steve smirks. “Oh, yeah? You park the DeLorean somewhere?”

Eddie grins. “Nope. It’s—” He stops, smile fading just at the corners, like he’s suddenly a little shy. “Okay, it’s kinda stupid. Like a family thing, I guess.”

“Lucky for you that I like stupid,” Steve says lightly—doesn’t really know how to say that he secretly loves hearing about quirky family traditions, sometimes feels like he can live vicariously through them.

(The last New Year’s Eve he’d spent with his parents had been in New York, and when they were getting a cab back to the hotel, his mom had said that he couldn’t fall asleep because they were sharing the ride with some business partners; it would be embarrassing. He’d spent the journey pressing his forehead against the cold condensation on the car window, fighting sleep.)

“So,” Eddie says, “every year since I was, like,” he gestures with his hand comically low, nearly touching the ground, “Wayne always let me stay up for New Year’s, and it blew my tiny mind ‘cause I was never tired. At all. And then, I think I was, what, ten…? Something like that. And I figured it out.”

“What?”

Eddie leans forward conspiratorially. “Sneaky bastard wound all the clocks forward.”

Steve laughs and laughs. “I love your uncle.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “Yeah, yeah, he’s something else.” Then he softens. “We did it tonight, before I came here. Early midnight countdown.”

And there’s a weight to that, like Eddie can hardly believe that he got to be there, to see the tradition continue.

Then Eddie blinks, and the heaviness is gone. “How about it, Harrington?” He pushes back his shirt to reveal his wristwatch. “Wanna try it?”

Steve smiles. “Sure.”

And he watches as Eddie fiddles with the watch until it reads as being a minute before midnight; and it’s silly, he knows they're not really time travelling, but he can’t help feeling that there’s some magic involved anyway. Like there’s suddenly a little pocket of the world that’s just their own.

They count down from 10, and then Eddie does a hushed imitation of fireworks going off, which makes Steve laugh again.

“Hey, Eddie,” he says. “Happy New Year.”

And suddenly it sounds like more than that—sounds like we made it and we’re safe.

Maybe Eddie hears all that, too, because there’s a sheen to his eyes that can’t entirely be blamed on the Christmas lights. “Yeah. Happy New Year, Steve.”

They stay put in comfortable silence. Eddie starts to rock the swing slowly with one foot, back and forth, and Steve knows that he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it—probably is hearing a song in his head that he can’t help but follow the rhythm.

And at some point Steve finds that he’s catching himself on the brink of dozing, then pulling back. His eyelids keep…

The softest laugh, somewhere very close. “Oh, Steve,” Eddie sighs, and Steve can hear him smiling, can hear the fondness shining through. “There you go, big guy.”

And his head is tilting down, down onto Eddie’s warm shoulder.

“Glad you’re here,” Steve just about manages to say.

Through a dreamy haze, he feels a hand brush across his forehead; an arm around him, so he doesn’t fall. “Ah, sweetheart. So glad you’re here, too, you’ve got no idea.”

And then he’s melting into sleep, right through the gentlest turning of the page from one year into the next.

[mikiafina]

“VICARIOUS EMBARRASSMENT”

Message:

I do not own the characters mentioned in story below, I had this idea earlier and thought that it might be fun to imagine if it would really happen.

The reader's pronouns in this oneshot are not mentioned, but female reader is on mind while writing. Do point out my typos if you ever noticed one!

My apologies if this was too short, ‘m not really fan of writing in a long amount of time.

P.S: Read the mentioned stories made by kunichigo first before reading this.

Note:

CRITICISM ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED! IF YOU NOTICED ANY ERRORS IN MY WORK, FEEL FREE TO POINT IT OUT SO I COULD FIX IT!

——————————

I DO NOT POST IN ANY OTHER PLATFORMS EXCEPT HERE ON TUMBLR!

Trigger Warning:

Ooc, grammatical errors, misspellings, typos, possibly curse words, suggestive content (sort of), mature-ish content (is that even a word?), Informal use of language

SUGGESTIVE THEMES ARE GONNA BE MENTIONED SO BE WARNED!

Synopsis:

After reading a oneshot-series of Genshin SAGAU made by one of your adored author, you felt a sudden desire to see your babies, husbandos and waifus. As soon as you logged in, you arrived at the entrance of mondstadt as you greeted your beloved babies and husbandos.

While doing your daily commissions, the topic that your sister were talking about went from another game named ‘Roblox’ to the story that you have previously read. And without your knowledge, my oh my. Your beloved acolytes are seemed to be listening with your conversation, oh sheeshhh.

What a disaster.

Genshin Characters x Reader

Dedicated to & Inspired by:

My favourite and underrated author, Kunichigo!

“[N/n] let's play roblox, I'll let you borrow mama's phone later for you to be able to read, for now play roblox with me.” Your sister tries to persuade you, even going to the lengths of letting your borrow the phone later as a bargain just to quote o' quote, play with her.

"Hm.. Alright, but make sure to let me borrow mama's phone. Or else.." You reluctantly opened the second computer as you placed your mother's phone on the side, while waiting for the desktop to load, you engaged in a conversation with your sister on what games to play.

"We can play Evade or Shoot out if you want, we can also play the games you play, uhh.. Arsenal? Was it?" Your sister habitually tilt her head in an insure manner, you hummed in confirmation at her question.

Despite the talk that you and your sister had made, you both weren't able to play roblox because you noticed the time and remembered that you have yet to finish your commissions and quests. So after setting up your recording software and opening up your preferred browser (Opera GX y'all), you launched Genshin and waited for it to finish loading.

"Oh by the way, have you read kunichigo's latest post? It was so good and underrated, like damn." Your sister squealed in delights as she proceeds on controlling her chosen character, Zhongli.

"Ah, you mean 'Cherry Red Lips?' and 'Terrible, Terrible.' if you mean those two, I did. But on the 'Cherry Red Lips?', she said she's inexperienced with those types but she narrated it sooo good! Like the way Kaeya shamelessly raised his voice to let everyone outside their beloved creator's chamber know that he's being pleasured by her is soooo— Aghhhh! It's so juicy! Like imagine if Aether really is withering and shaking underneath us while we suck on their blood? DAMN! I'd kill to see such sight under me! And don't get me started about Kaeya, that man is a walking menace! But that's one of his hot traits! Like— like just imagineee!" You fangirled while controlling Razor, running and teleporting around mondstadt doing commisions.

"Right?! It's just ashame that the author didn't make a detailed scene about Diluc withering and panting under his beloved creator's touch! But Lisa's scene was so lit, despite being written so short. But man, Aether's really well narrated, the author made it clear that he's a babygirl." Your sister added, fangirling as much as you do. The both of you continued on squealing as you played Genshin together, having fun and making it clear that whatever is the "story" you two were talking about, is what made your day better.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the oh so said characters are listening to your conversations. My oh my, what in teyvat did they just listen on to?

In the land of teyvat, Zhongli cannot believe what just reached his ears. Did he hear it right, are their ears working right? Did they hear it correct?

Much to Diluc's dismay, the conversation about the story that you both read did not end with just Kaeya and Aether being mentioned cause it seems like he was too, in the story. The mentioned characters can't help but feel blood rushing to their face, ears and neck due to either embarrassment or whatever human emotion you are supposed to feel in such situation, even those who weren't mentioned were flustered at the topic of their creators, despite this, they aren't sure whether to pity the others or to get jealous cause they're the topics of the beloved creators, nonetheless, they still feel the second-hand embarrassment for the others.

Meanwhile back in the Serenitea Pot, Xiao, Tighnari and Ayato looked at Diluc who's face is crimson as his hair, attempting to have the floor of the abode swallow him alive. He doesn't know whether to be thankful for kuni- or whoever the author of the story is for not writing a detailed scenario of him or he'll probably ask the Geo Archon to have the floor swallow him on the spot.

Kaeya who's sitting just right beside Diluc, laughed at his semi-miserable state, and honestly speaking, Kaeya is tad bit embarrassed but he'd be lying if he said that he denied that he's proud of how the author wrote him. Chongyun who has been silent for the whole time, almost choked on his ice cream if it weren't for Heizou and Thoma helping him unclog the small piece of popsicle on his esophagus.

Zhongli, who's being possessed by one of the creator and who's listening on the conversation from the very beginning, did not know how to react. Razor, who's beside the Geo Archon is quite confuse and worried, was the traveler, cavalry captain and librarian of knights of favonius sick or in pain? Poor boy doesn't really understand his creator and their sister is talking about, if the said people are sick then why are his beloved creator, squealing? Is there something he's missing?

Needless to say, it was an eventful day for both the vision holders and the creators. The boys are just thanking the archons that the girls aren't in presence and are having a peaceful picnic somewhere in Sumeru, or else they wouldn't be able to handle the embarrassment, much less, face nor confront them.

® mikiafina

[peachmuses]

ryou's quiet when og speaks, willing to listen -- and tries to understand, " isn't that --- like friendship though ? " getting to know with another person, growing with them, spending time with them. they think and they think - and they've had this thought for a while, ( og and his girlfriend breaking up / ha-chan and his dalliances / momoi-chan who flits from people to people in some kind search for something even though she says she's just not particularly searching for something - still with a crush on og. ) " i get the whole wanting to spend time with people, and i get sexual attraction, i understand those points, but i don't get the whole just meeting someone and wanting to date them ? if a person wants to have sex with whoever, then just do that ? you know, consensually and everything," obviously. shuuzou nods slightly, " i've never understood you more than in this moment. " ryou, " ? " shuuzou, " that's demi-romantic or grey-romantic - or whatever, on it. basically, you already need the foundations of a friendship there before you can think about a relationship with a person right ? are you more prone to crushing on people you know than strangers ? " ryou's head tilts, as he thinks about a kiss behind a gym / the disappearance of his best friend / realising that he liked boys and being alone for most of the realisation. begrudgingly, " i guess. " shuuzou nods. " yah that's normal too, y'know. i'm that way. i can't just be in a relationship with someone i don't know or trust -- trust, mostly, but there isn't anything wrong with being like that. " ryou blinks, and tatsuya snorts as he finally puts in his own two cents, " don't follow in shuu's direction. he's slept with half of tokyo. " kazuya speaks, and ryou's attention flits to best friend, and he blinks slowly as he processes words. ( omma and appa support one another -- he knows it can be done. ) he nods slowly, " and people, " hesitantly, " are just comfortable showing that side of themselves to others ? " that side that needs help. " absolutely not, " says shuuzou cheerfully. " giving up control like that is terrifying. do not recommend. stay single forever, i say. we can start a club --- " makoto hits him - more of a love tap than anything - and shuuzou pouts at best friend. ryou shakes his head, and attention turns back to og, and they snort in amusement. " i can't. remember, i've diagnosed panic attacks. i'll live vicariously through you and ha-chan or momoi-chan or through art. that's all i need or want in my life anyways. "

ryou speaks and og, as his twin, at the very least decides to hear him out before he says anything about anything, eyes settled on the other before eyes flicker to those scattered across the room. kazuya's back to shoveling food in his mouth, seeming to have no particular interest in trying to give his own two-yen. lip thin for a moment and before he says anything about anything, he's cracking his neck.

" the typical person doesn't get into a relationship thinking it's going to end, or worrying about the drama that happens after it does -- if it does. " he pauses, thinking back to his own family. thoughts of mother and father once briefly mentioning how they were one another's first and only and og remembers how disgustingly in love they were with one another that they forgot to love him, too / it's wiped away with thoughts of his grandparents -- father's parents and how they were together at some point and then they weren't. he remembers watching the way their marriage failed before his grandmother packed her things and shipped herself back home. a hand raises, slipping between himself and ryou to rub his chest before it moves to pick his choker. " i grew up watching both happen-- my parents have been together since they were basically kids, and my grandparents got divorced like a decade ago. teenagers aren't the only people who break up, you know? it doesn't get less messy just because a person is older. " which isn't necessarily the point, so he shakes his head and moves on.

" dating is generally about entertaining, learning about, and potentially growing with the other person. i like you, you like me, let's see what happens, that's how relationship dating works. you have to actually care about the person for that, or it's doomed from the start -- not to say that's the only reason they fail, because it's not. " he huffs out a breath, eyes on the ceilings as he feels makoto's attention sharped. " just going on dates is different, you don't have to be in a relationship to do that, it's just about spending time with someone. the context behind it doesn't have to be romantic. "

makoto, unable to help himself, begins laughing and he's putting his head down when og looks over at him. " sorry, i just-- " he's not sorry in the slightest, actually, " didn't think you'd have so much to say about it. "

og shrugs. " i didn't think you'd have so little. "

" i'm just listening. i'm impressed, i didn't think you'd actually explain it. "

" that's how conversations work, jackass. "

" yo-yo, " kazuya cuts in, ignoring makoto and og's back and forth, " you can work on your dreams and goals and improve whatever you want to do while you're dating, you know? if someone's holding you back, then that person isn't for you -- but if you keep going around thinking that dating's a waste of time, no one is ever gonna wanna be with you. people are supposed to help people, emotion isn't supposed to be weakness. you can't do everything on your own. "

makoto, in turn, gives a low whistle at kazuya's words, eyes again on his own best friend, head tilting.

" i'm not that warm, you're just a walking ice pack. " nose scrunches. " bold words coming from you, times two. you first. "

[littleliquor]

When Daylight Fades (pt. 3)

Note: Wednesday’s coming in part 5 (posting later so stay tuned)! I figured out how to head into her story over my lunch break. This chapter is going to be a bit of a bonding time. A little lighthearted (or not?) Feel free to leave me a message if you want more :)

Summary: Witch!Reader receives an unexpected visit from her “Coven family” who delivered a word of wisdom that upset her. Tyler opened up about his anger towards his mother’s passing and outcasts. The two bonded over the treatment towards Hydes from the outcasts. 

Warning: 

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4   Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

No one ever told me what to do when your sunshine in life became darkness. No one ever told me how addictive and how much I’d want it more as the darkness crept over him. Tyler was the light in this life to guide me through the clouds and shadows. But the more the darkness of Hyde became him, somehow I wanted more. I wanted more darkness, more shadows, on him and finally onto me. It felt as if a lifetime of bloodlust that lurked within me had finally gained its vicarious outlet.  

It started off as vengeance, when normies stormed into my village with flaming torches and pitchforks, killing my kins like lambs to their slaughter. So I hunted them down, one by one, until I was strong enough. Then I took their entire village same way they took mine, sparing no souls behind. At one point, I grew weary and fearful of what I had become. But then I began to enjoy it. Each life I took, I took joyously. The scream of the dying made my heart race and my blood boil. 

Until I met Tyler. For the first time in many lives, I remembered the smaller things that brought me so much happiness. Playing make believes in treehouse, skipping rocks by the river side… For once, I wanted to be normal, without the burden and the sickly urge to harm. 

Chatters in the quad were usual in the morning. What was unusual was the unsettling and worrisome atmosphere surrounding it. 

“Y/N!” Bianca waved at me to the fountain. “Where have you been last night?” Her clear blue eyes had concern written all over them. 

“I spent the night at Tyler’s. What’s wrong? Wait, you didn’t tell anyone I wasn’t here, right?” I lowered my voice. 

“Of course not! What kind of friend do you think I am? Haven’t you heard? Some kids were murdered in the woods last night. I thought you were one of them.” She showed me the news on her phone. 

“Can’t say I have heard.” I denied swiftly, frowning at the news content. 

Gruesome Murder of Four Teenagers Found in The Woods. 

“Speaking of, judging from your constant sleepovers, it’s safe to assume that your dates’ been going well?” Bianca’s lips curled up into a sly smirk. “I didn’t even know when you guys started!” 

“It was, dramatic.” I laughed dryly. Whatever happened in the cave wasn’t something you could just share to everyone. 

“Not the type I’d imagined you’d like but I’m happy for you.” Bianca shrugged, giving me a cheeky wink before walking to her class. 

At our herbology class, I couldn’t help but noticed that Thornhill’s eyes kept flowing to my direction, colder and colder with each glare. If I was an innocent teenage girl, her looks could send some proper chills down my spine. Luckily, I was not. 

“I heard you got closer to the sheriff’s son.” Xavier turned around to my desk, whispering in a tone which I could only identified as disappointment. 

“The rumour’s true.” I spun my pen in between my fingers with a carefree attitude, though deep down, I felt apologetic for dating the person who ran with his bullies. “I’m sorry what he and his friends did to you…” 

“No, it’s cool. I just want to… warn you. He’s bad news.” Xavier sighed, shaking his head with a bitter smile. 

“You do realize the more you tell me not to do something, the more I want to do that right?” I joked lightheartedly, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere. 

“I sure do. Just be careful.” He scoffed quietly. 

I went to the Weathervane after the fencing practice. Seemingly it had become a part of my daily routine to sneak off to see Tyler. Weathervane at the late night hour was about as quiet as a graveyard. As I walked through the door, his eyes shot from behind the counter. A big, stupid grin crept onto his face. 

“You’re late today!” Tyler leaned against the counter, beaming with my usual order in his hand. 

“Do you say that to every customer?” I gawked, brushing his hand while picking up the coffee. 

“Only reserved for my special VIP.” 

As I turned around, I noticed a certain familiar figure sitting at my usual booth, one I could never forget, as much as I wished. Draped in her tightly fitted leather jacket and six-inch killer stiletto heels. A wide grin pulled her red lips ear to ear as I reciprocated to her anticipating gaze. I let out a long, somber sigh, sitting down across her. 

“Joy, what are you doing here?” I pursed my lips together in an unconcealed annoyance. 

“Y/N, I’m doing fine. Thanks a lot for asking.” Joy didn’t not find my aloofness to be strange. I didn’t want to see her and she was well-acquainted with my disdain towards most members of the Coven. The idea of “big family” didn’t quite sit well with me. 

“You didn’t come all the way from Europe for small talks, did you?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, leaning back to the chair. 

“I believe it would be even more torturous to you if my answer was yes. Luckily, no.” Joy swept her hair behind her shoulder, speaking in a volume only we could hear. “I’m here to warn you. I’m worried. I’d seen how hard you’ve tried to steer away from your history. I just don’t want you to repeat it. Being close to a creature of violence and darkness will only derail you from the path you’ve been building.” 

“I already told you, I know what I’m doing. I don’t need your lecture.” I said, stirring my coffe in a swift, clockwise motion. 

“Think about it. Centuries ago, you wouldn’t let yourself be in a crowd of normies without killing at least a few. Right now, you have the power to wipe out this entire town or turn them against one another in the blink of an eye and yet you didn’t. That was more self-control and determination than I’ve ever seen in a lot of witches. I don’t want you to let that all go to waste. I know you don’t believe you need any of us but…” Joy propped her elbows on the table, looking into eyes with a candidness that I didn’t believe. 

“Where were you when I needed saving? When they burnt me on the stake, I called for you. No one came. Now you expect me to believe a word that came out of your snake’s tongue? You have no rights to come up here in the first place.” I narrowed my eyes. In front of her, I could barely hold the rage that burned from the depth of my stomach. A rage that I’d been repressing for longer than I remembered. 

Joy opened her lips for a moment, but then decided against it. She sighed in dejection as she stood up from the seat. 

“Say what you want. If you need me, us, in anyway, you know how to find me.” That was the last words she left before the clacking sound of her heels headed out of Weathervane. 

I placed my palms over my face and took a deep breath to regain my poise. I knew Joy cared about me truly but I would give up the world before I give up on Tyler. I wondered if the path of darkness was the only path I could walk with him by my side, or could things be different. 

The moment my father found out about my abilities, I noticed the way he looked at me changed. I wasn’t the innocent little girl he nurtured, but a creature that sends chills down his spine the more I stayed under his roof. He didn’t desert his responsibilities, of course, no. He merely avoided anything more than that. 

I was left on my own for a very long time, until the Coven recovered me. They took me in like one of their own. Yet, none of their pretentious kindness could repent for their indifference when I called for their help at my demise, last demise. 

As I placed my hands back on the coffee, my eyes were met by a pair of turquoise ones. I jumped slightly out of shock. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I thought I saw you guys arguing over something. You look pretty upset there.” Tyler placed a freshly baked scone in front of me. Even the plate was lukewarm. The chocolate scent was enough to make anyone’s day. 

“It’s just some… family business. She means no harm.” I smiled dryly, poking the pastry with a fork. Tyler’s look softened when I mentioned “no harm”. Part of me was relieved that I didn’t accidentally murdered the Supreme of my own Coven. “Joy is the leader of my Coven. She just dropped by to see if I was doing alright in Nevermore.” 

“Not much of a happy kind of family reunion?” Tyler asked, fingers twitching lightly in a quiet, nervous disposition. 

“In case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m kind of the rebel in the family. Surely even my dad has talked to yours about just how much of a headache I am.” I shrugged. It didn’t bother me much that my troubling nature had been found rather unbecoming by many more around me. Not that I cared enough to change. 

“I might have overheard. Not to me though, you aren’t.” He gleamed comfortingly.

“Then you clearly don’t know me well enough.” I bit down on my lower lip. There were many secrets to a person that should never be uncovered. Some past were too grim to be heard of on this earth again. Tyler’s look lingered on me, searching for a non-existing sign that I was joking around. 

“I don’t want to pressure you. I think, when you’re willing to let me in, you’d be surprised.” He was reluctant to give up on pursuing for the skeletons I kept behind my closet, but my silence and unsettling did seem to worry him. 

“I could say the same about you. You know, therapist aren’t your only outlet. I’m always here if you need me.” My fingers danced along the veins on the back of his hand, expecting him to become defensive and withdrawing just as the first time I visited him after his mother’s wake. The image of him slamming the door with a stone-cold look was burnt in the back of my mind. At time, I stopped talking to him altogether to avoid agitating him further, in hopes that he would be in good hand with his father. However, it didn’t seem to be the case at all. 

Tyler didn’t shy away from my touch or my attempt to opening him up about his mother this time. He turned his wrist up, smoothing over my pulse point.

“I’m angry, had been since she was gone. He… uh, doesn’t want to talk about her at all. And you, you stopped talking to me for some reasons. Somehow, I’ve never felt more… alone.” 

“I thought you needed your peace when I visited after the wake. I’m sorry I didn’t come check up on you sooner.” 

“I did slammed the door… You have every right to keep the distance from me. I should be saying sorry to you. But that’s not what I was angry about.” Tyler shook his head. He was smiling but tears were glistening in his eyes. 

“Then what is it?” 

“You see, a while after she passed. Your teacher came to me, claiming that she knew the true reason why Mom made that decision. Mom used to go to Nevermore, but when she needed their help, they never gave her any help nor guidance. They were all too scared. Ironic, isn’t? Outcasts fearing another outcast. It’s their rejection and isolation that pushed her off the cliff. All her life, she thought that was a place where she belonged and it betrayed her when she needed them most.” As Tyler explained, his expression darkened with a ghastly shadow, cold, angry, almost sadistic. It was a look that I’d never seen on him before, except for the time when he looked at my bullies outside of Weathervane. 

“Fear makes people do things. As far as I know, several Hydes were accepted in Nevermore throughout its long history, until they were banned for being too violent, unpredictable and uncontrollable.” I pursed my lips in disapproval, having known far too well how fear makes the worst in people magnify in the most catastrophic way. “That’s a crock of shit. People fear things that they don’t understand, but they don’t seek ways to understand it.” 

I had gone through some readings about the school’s history for leisure entertainment. The accepting and inspection on the species stopped after a terrible incident inside the school. A whole hall student population was wiped out overnight as a Hyde lost control. They did nothing to help, simply keeping all Hydes out as if they never existed. I’d seen it far too many times. A fate like this often happens between human and outcasts. Luckily, outcasts built themselves a safety haven that was Nevermore. Casted out by outcasts? That was the true tragedy. 

“You think there’s a way to control… it?” Tyler’s eyes shot up to mine, gazing into mine with disbelief. 

“There has to.” I rested my face on my palm, reaffirming with a seething determination.

[mothwingwritings]

There’s Just No One Like You Pt. 2

F!ReaderXTaiju Shiba

PART ONE PART THREE

Yoooo who’s ready for part two of your Taiju adventures?

I am sorry this took so long, and thank you all for your patience! I rewrote the ending like, three times because it was pissing me off lul. Also adult life is lame and you have to do dumb shit that gets in the way of smut writing. And then after years of not getting sick I got a cold that knocked my ass out for 3 solid days. So it goes. L

Anyway, this part revolves around your reunion with Taiju (hence the name Reunion har har). It’s set during highschool, after he became the leader of the Black Dragons but before Mikey beat his ass. I imagine here he is not quite yet at his most powerful, but he’s well on his way there. Also, I just kinda assumed he lives alone with Hakkai and Yuzuha, so that’s how it is in this fic.

Though there isn’t intense explicit sex, there is definitely heavy petting and NSFW themes, mentions, and moments. So please 18+ only for this one gang.

I had a lot of fun writing this one! There will definitely be a part three and most likely a part four. I haven’t yet decided if I want to split up the final part, but that is what I am leaning towards. Like this one, it probs won’t be out for a while, so please be advised. I have some Baki fics in the work I want to get out too, so those will most likely come first.

Thank you for reading!!! (I hope the editing is OK I did most of that while under the weather lul)

Warnings: NSFW, unhealthy relationships, ducob/noncon, yandere themes, extremely heavy petting (but no actual penetration), cry baby reader, virgin reader, obsession, abuse, language, gas lighting, bullying, choking, slight dacryphilia, Taiju just generally being a scary mf.

Tags: @serenity-loves-red​ @caramelcandescence​ @mochiswifey​ @skyoumi​

Part 2. Reunion

“I’m telling you, you need to see this guy!”

“Uh huh,” Your response was lackluster in hopes that the friend beside you would finally pick up on your disinterest. You loved her, but her incessant chirping in your ear about this new guy while you were trying to focus on finishing an assignment was driving you to the point of insanity. He was all she had talked about since you had seen her today, and with the way she was going, there was no end in sight to the scandalous rumors she wanted to dump upon you.

“What do you mean ‘uh huh’,” Tomoko pouted, “(Name) this guy is like, the talk of the school right now! Haven’t you been listening to me? Rumor has it he’s been held back a year for failing the year prior because he was in and out of juvey AND he’s the head of some kind of local gang or something. So not only is he a mysterious transfer student, but he’s also like, a total badass!”

“Sounds like a great person,” you mumbled sarcastically, shuffling through various papers, “really top tier crush you got there Tomo.”

“It’s not a crush,” she bumped her shoulder against you. “I’m just intrigued, is all. I mean, our school is so boring normally. Barely anything happens! This rebellious transfer student may just turn all that on its head.” She hummed, shooting you a coy look, “But maybe something is forming in my heart, when I caught a glimpse of him earlier I couldn’t help but think he IS rather cute~”

You playfully rolled your eyes at your friend, shaking your head. Tomoko and you were nearly opposites, where she liked to have a foot in everything and keep up with all the latest happenings, you much preferred keeping a low profile and stayed in your lane.  You did your best to avoid the gossip traps Tomoko so loved to fling herself into, finding yourself perfectly content living those scandals out vicariously through your friend.

You laughed, “You are something else you know that? What would you even do with a bad boy boyfriend miss ‘I always go to bed by 9pm and can barely say a curse word without getting flustered’?”

She snorted, “Oh, you’re one to talk! You can hardly look a handsome guy in the face without wanting to run and hide!”

“Look, I’m not the one who is-“

“QUIET,” your teacher’s voice boomed, effectively ending your playful banter, “Everyone, eyes up here! We have a new face to introduce to the crowd.”

The class’s attentions were brought to the front of the room, your jovial demeanor instantly curtailed as you took in the boy who stood beside your teacher. Honestly, man may have been a better word for him, as he dwarfed your teacher in both stature and mass. His height alone was enough to quiet the rambunctious crowd before him, the overwhelming presence he exuded commanding everyone’s instant respect. Oozing ‘tall dark and handsome’, it was impossible not to take note of how attractive he was. His unruly hair cascaded around his face, the varying shades of blue reminding you of waves crashing against a craggy beach. The tendrils framed his severe, scowling countenance, his judgmental stare boring down on the people around him made him appear as if he were searching them for something and was disappointed by what he found. His hands were stuffed in his uniform pockets, head tilted back to amplify the feeling that you were all beneath him.

The stranger’s eyes languidly swept over the class, angular face looking even sharper in the harsh fluorescent lights of the classroom.  As you watched his steady inspection of your classmates, you couldn’t help the small shiver that traveled down your spine. In every regard, this man was menacing. (But you had to admit, you were impressed that someone could look so utterly bored and pissed off at the same time, at a class introduction no less.)

“This is Taiju Shiba,” your teacher proceeded. You noticed he stood a bit further from Taiju than he normally did when introducing someone, his eyes shooting the taller boy a quick, leery glance. What did it say for this new face that even your teacher was weary of his presence? “Please make sure to welcome him and assist him if he needs any help.”

A murmur of unenthused recognition spread through your class. The welcome seemed to amuse Taiju, a hint of a smirk ghosting his lips at his reception.

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Tomoko’s voice chimed in, slapping at your arm repeatedly in her excitement. Her floundering went barely acknowledged however, as you found yourself unable to focus on anything but Taiju.

Where had you heard that name before? It sounded so familiar, but you were sure you had never interacted with this man previously. Why would you of? Just one glance and you could clearly see he was a poster child for the delinquents of the world, a group of people you tried at all costs to avoid. The bullying you suffered at their hands in your childhood enough to give you lifelong PTSD. From the looks of him, this person was definitely not anyone you would have any kind of pleasant history with, or even any history at all.

Taiju must have caught Tomoko’s voice over the sound of the crowd, as his eyes were soon to hone in and lock onto yours. Pure ice ran through your veins as he took you in, silted yellow eyes reminiscent of a cat that had just cornered a mouse. He held your gaze with an intensity he spared the rest of the class, a pointed look of surprise flashing across his features that caused his dramatic brow to loosen. You hated that you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, instant embarrassment hitting you like a ton of bricks as other classmates caught on to his interest in you, shooting you questioning looks of their own.

His lips curled, baring his teeth in what you assumed was his attempt at a smile. You shuddered as his eyes flicked you up and down, openly ogling you in front of the rest of the class. Maybe your mind was playing tricks, but you swore you heard growl come from his direction.

As if being broken from a curse, you finally found the strength to avert your gaze, suddenly becoming very interested in editing the assignment on the desk before you.

“Why don’t you take a seat over there in the corner, there’s an open spot behind (Name)-san.”

Your breath hitched. If there was ever a moment you wanted the earth to eat you alive, this may be it.

“(Name) raise your hand please so Taiju knows where to go.”

Weakly, you raised your arm above your head. Briefly you made eye contact, but were quick to glance away when noting his unnerving smile had grown. You snuck a peek at your friend, who reciprocated with the same dismayed expression you were donning. It made sense he would sit behind you, it was the only seat that was unoccupied, but that didn’t mean you had to be thrilled about it.

Without further interruption, the man sauntered towards his awaiting desk. Your heart pounded as he made a brief stop next to you. Ignoring his stately figure the best you could, you bore holes into the desk before you. If you tried hard enough, maybe you could convince him that you were just some boring school girl overly focused on her studies, not someone worthy of directing any ire or attention. If you were lucky, it would work (however you knew you wouldn’t be so lucky with Tomoko, who most assuredly was sucking up this moment like a sponge to tease you later).

A sudden tap on your desk made you jerk. His knuckles grazed the wooden surface, coming suspiciously close to brushing against your arm. You sat like a statue, a cold sweat pooling on the back of your neck at the proximity of his body. You prayed to every god imaginable that he would get bored of your lack of response and take his seat, hopefully finding you just boring enough that he would leave you alone indefinitely. Your eyes darted to his hand as it crept closer and closer, debating if he would actually go so far as to touch you or not, and if he did, how you should respond.

“Is there a problem, Shiba-san?”

You released the breath you were holding when Taiju withdrew his hand, turning his body in the slightest to glance at the teacher.

“No teach,” His voice drawled. He turned back around, taking the last few strides to his awaiting desk, “Not at all.”

With an exasperated sigh, your teacher shot you a look that almost seemed apologetic before they continued. “Well, now that we are all settled, let’s proceed with class.”

Focusing on learning turned out being easier said than done, what with the feeling of his eyes drilling a hole into the back of your skull. Tomoko nudged your foot a few times to get your attention, shooting questioning glances from Taiju to you. You did your best to nonverbally communicate you had no idea why he was picking on you either, but for your sanity you hoped it would not be a recurring ordeal.

The rest of class dragged by with it being next to impossible to focus on anything the teacher was saying. With Taiju’s stifling presence looming behind you, you felt suffocated. Wriggling in your seat, finding a moment of comfort under his scrutiny was simply out of the question. You could practically feel the burn of his eyes on every move you made, but you were far too unnerved by him to confront him about it. All you had to do was make it through this class and then maybe you could meet up with the teacher later and see if they could put you and Tomoko somewhere else, preferably on the other side of the room.

After what felt like a century, class ended. You had long since bundled up your belongings, ready to bolt as soon as you were able. This was the last class of the day, and the sooner you could get out and away from the constricting aura that was smothering you from behind, the better.

However, fate never seemed to have your best interests in mind. Before you could even entertain the thought of a speedy escape, you heard a deep voice call out behind you.

“(Name).”

‘Great, he’s already remembered my name.’ You flinched, considering your options. Should you just pretend you didn’t hear him? That seemed like a plausible excuse, it was pretty noisy now that class had let up.

“Hey,” he spoke again, this time kicking the leg of your chair enough to jostle you, “(Name), you suddenly deaf or something?”

You gritted your teeth, slowly pivoting around until you were looking at Taiju. He was sprawled out in his chair, obviously in no real hurry to leave for the day like the rest of the class. His feet were encroaching into your personal space, one foot still firmly planted on your chair keeping you from too much movement. His golden eyes, though still intense, had softened considerably as he stared back at you. His wolfish grin had faded too, his face relaxing into a much calmer state. This threw you off. If this man was preparing to verbally assault you, why did he seem so collected now?

“Can I help you?” Your voice came out far less assured than you wanted it to. You frowned as his jaw tightened after the question, displeasure once more twisting his face into a look of cruelty. Your first time speaking to him and somehow you already managed to piss him off.

He snorted, lips curling in a sneer. “Really? That’s all you have to say after so many years apart?”

“What???” Tomoko beat you to the punch, drawing both your and Taiju’s attention. A pink tinge came to her cheeks after her exclamation, and she cleared her throat before continuing, “I’m sorry it’s just… (Name), you know Taiju-san?” Face agog and expression borderline hurt, she eagerly waited for you to spill the details.

The truth was you were just as shocked at his words as she was.

Your gaze shifted back to Taiju, who had since turned his focus back to you. You wracked your brain for any recollection but came up blank, his expectant gaze causing anxiety to mount within you. Just what was he looking for here? Of course you didn’t know him! You come from two completely different walks of life.

“I’m very sorry,” you finally spoke, flicking your gaze between the two, “I think you have the wrong person. I don’t think I’ve ever met you before…?”

Your voice trailed off, growing considerably meeker under Taiju’s study. His frown had become so deeply etched into his face you were concerned it may become stuck that way. His eyebrow twitched, a prominent vein in his forehead bulging in vexation.

“Really, you don’t remember when we were kids? We went to school together, I found you on that playground? None of that rings any bells?”

There was a definite edge to his voice, but you also detected a hint of wistfulness. It was accompanied by a waver in his eyes that if you weren’t mistaken, seemed almost pained. You nibbled at your bottom lip, feeling even worse than you had previously.

“I-I don’t… I’m really sorry, I honestly think you are mistaken-“

“I’m NOT,” abruptly he stood, rattling the furniture around him as his body shoved it askew. “How can you not remember me? Is this some sort of fucking joke, are you tryin’ to piss me off?”

You winced at his words. Feeling cornered, you pushed yourself as far into your desk as you could. At his full height, he stared down at you in your chair, indignation radiating off of him in waves. Remaining plastered to your seat, you found yourself unable to look away from the angered man behind you. Your sweaty, trembling hands gripped the back of your chair so tightly you were losing circulation, and despite still being seated, you felt like you may topple over any second. How did you get in this position? What exactly did you do to set this man off?

Alerted by the commotion, your teacher approached the three of you. His voice had vibrato, but his stance seemed hesitant.

“Shiba-san, what seems to be the issue here?”

Taiju shot your hapless teacher a glare that would make anyone falter, and guilt started to overtake you as the scene escalated. You hated being targeted, but felt even worse dragging people into your messes. You knew you should say something to calm everyone down, maybe even lie and remark that you did remember Taiju just to chill him out, but you hesitated. You had always been a horrible actor, and something told you that messing up now would just make things much worse.

Feeling a hand wrap around your wrist, your eyes trailed the reassuring grasp back to Tomoko. As you made eye contact, her head bobbed towards you in comforting affirmation.

“We’re sorry,” she laughed, bowing lightly to your teacher as she pulled you to your feet, “(Name) and I were joking around and we happened to bump into his desk on accident, I think it messed up something he was writing? It was completely our bad.”

Once you were standing beside her, she gave you a small nudge to help back up her statement.

“S-she’s right,” you bowed deeply in Taiju’s direction, “I’m very sorry Taiju-san. We’ll be more mindful next time.”

“Yeah,” you heard Taiju’s gruff voice reply despondently, “you SHOULD be more mindful next time.”

Tomoko tugged at you forcibly, momentarily throwing you off balance. “Again, sorry for the trouble, but we are running a bit behind now to meet up with some friends. We won’t have any problems in the future, promise!”

You were more or less out the door when you heard your teacher letting out a disgruntled sigh.

“As long as everyone is keeping the peace, I suppose.”

~

“What the hell was that about?!”

Tomoko wheezed out in between panted breaths. After you had left the classroom, she dragged you behind her in a mad sprint to leave the school premises, neither of you completely stopping until you were at least two blocks away. Exhausted, you both slumped yourselves down against some beat-up vending machines that stood on the outskirts of a small park.

“No idea,” you panted, sweaty head knocking against the cool glass of the drink machine, “but despite my best efforts, I am most definitely a target now.”

Your friend sidled up next to you, “You really don’t know him? Cause he sure as hell seems to know you,” Tomoko laughed, “Who’s the one with the bad boy boyfriend now, huh?”

You nudged her with your knee, shooting her an unamused expression. “I seriously have no clue what that was all about,” you sighed heavily, “I’m pretty sure I would remember if that guy was ever in my life or not.”

Tomoko hummed in contemplation, “True, he does seem pretty memorable… But with the way he was speaking it sounded like he might have known you from when you were kids, so maybe it’s just been so long that you forgot? I know I personally have the memory of a goldfish, so maybe being stuck with ME for so longs has rubbed off on you in the worst ways.”

You turned to your friend, “If both our memories go, does that mean we’ll forget about each other and I will be free of the shackles of this relationship?”

Tomoko threw her head back in a laugh, “HAH! You wish! You are stuck with me till the end, memories or not! It was in the fine print of our friendship agreement we signed, remember?”

“Hmm, don’t recall. Must be because my memories have become so cloudy…” You replied as seriously as you could, fighting the grin that threatened engulfing your face.

“How convenient,” Tomoko laughed again, turning her focus back towards the scenery ahead of you. “All joking aside, there may be a possibility you just forgot him. People are weird. Someone could be the most important person in your life one day and then completely gone by the next. When that happens, no matter how sad it may seem, it’s only natural for the memory of them to fade along with them, right?”

You sighed, slumping deeper against the vending machine. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

For the first time since you arrived here, you truly took in your surroundings for the first time. Though not terribly far from the school, you and Tomoko had gone a surprising distance and ended up in an area you had not ventured to in quite some time, and for obvious reasons.

Even years later, glancing at that dilapidated, sun worn little play house in the corner of this old park sent chills through you. The years had not been kind to it, and you wondered why of all the play equipment in the park that was the one they decided to keep. The entire place had been renovated in recent years and nearly everything besides the plant life had been replaced with something newer and nicer. Yet the playhouse of your nightmares still stood, taunting you to recall the memories you buried deepest within yourself.

You suppressed a shudder. In the darkest corner of your mind you could still hear your pursuer’s sneers through its thin walls, recalling the paralyzing fear you felt as they gained on you, clutching your body so hard your bones ached.

It had been a long time since you let your mind wander to that moment, so long it felt like an entire lifetime had passed. You are by no means a fighter now, but back then you really were a sitting duck, weren’t you? As your mind was further consumed by the ghosts of the past you cringed for your younger self. There were what, three or four boys gaining on you at that point? All of them were in your grade school class and none of them had any qualms over beating on the little new girl, even enjoying your torment. You recalled the leader of their posse was especially vile. He was relentless, refusing to stop until fat tears flooded down your ruddy cheeks. When he was successful in this, he would fling all manner of curses at you in his horrible, grating voice, just to add insult to injury. And then, he would laugh and laugh and laugh, finding your pain and misery absolutely hilarious, until he finally got bored and granted you reprieve for the day.

The day you ended up in this park was a particularly unlucky moment, one little miscalculation and you ended up with the whole herd after you. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry replaying the fuzzy memory of the slap-stick chase scene in your brain, remembering how ungracefully you skittered into that little house made you shake your head slightly in shame.

The more you mused on it, the more your suppressed memories came to light. It was such a jarring moment from your childhood, but how did it end? You did eventually get out of there unharmed, but how? You sure as hell didn’t fight off those kids on your own…

Surging up from the deepest corners of your mind, it came to you in such a brilliant, violent onslaught that you were left momentarily breathless. Your body perked up as a memory surfaced to the forefront of your brain, one that had long since been buried.

The door being kicked open and the boy that followed. His messy hair, sharp eyes, tall stature, all now displayed in crystal clarity through the visions of your past. Even in his youth his strength was unparalleled, made evident by how easily he beat back your pursuers, returning to your company covered in their blood and grime. At that time, who would have imagined he would become your most cherished friend and trusted companion throughout those childhood days? After he saved you that day, he cemented himself as your own personal hero. How could you forget him?

How could you ever forget Taiju Shiba?

“Oh my god,” the words tumbled from your lips in a hoarse whisper. Dragging yourself to your feet, you were overcome by your realization. You wavered where you stood, mind and body fuzzy from a mixture of sudden movement and the clarity of remembrance.

“What? What is it?” Tomoko was by your side in an instant, grabbing your arm to steady you. There was concern in her voice as she continued, “Are you OK, you look a little wobbly?”

Your eyes darted to Tomoko, snapping you back to reality. Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you shot her the most convincing smile you could muster.

“Oh um, I just realized I left all my stuff back in the classroom,” you responded sheepishly, not wanting Tomoko to catch on to your realization quite yet. It wasn’t as if you were lying, you did leave so quickly all your belongings had been abandoned back at school, but you also knew how Tomoko could be. As much as you loved her, you needed the time to process this actualization on your own without being hounded by the incessant questioning you were sure would follow your revelation.

“All my homework is still back in the classroom, including a project I really need to finish tonight,” you straightened yourself out, breaking from Tomoko’s hold. Brushing your skirt off, you looked back her way, “I need to go get it before they lock up for the night.”

Tomoko frowned, lightly slapping her palm against her forehead, “Ah, I am so sorry! That was totally my fault! I dragged you away without even thinking about that!” She picked up her own school bag, adjusting it on her shoulder as she took a step your way.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” you grimaced at how firm and fast you replied, noting the confusion in your friend’s eyes. “Sorry, it’s just you were telling me earlier that you were really behind on that book report, the one that’s due in two days? If you want to hang out later you better go get working on that.”

You were relieved when her face softened. She sighed dramatically, “As usual, you are right. I guess it’s time to face the music.”

She began her departure towards her home, waving at you over her shoulder as she walked. “I really do feel bad though, so next time we go out it’s my treat!”

You smiled, returning the wave, “I’ll hold you to that.”

~

You took your time on the trek back to the school, losing yourself in your thoughts along the way. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that the fierce man in your class was once your number one companion, but the more you compared the past and present in your head the more you wanted to kick yourself for not recognizing him sooner. He looked nearly the same, just much bigger and more mature. In your years apart he had definitely grown from that surly little boy you held so dear to a man who was not to be trifled with. He seemed so adult now that thinking back on the way his eyes bore into you in the classroom, the weight of his presence as he stood so closely beside you, it made your face burn. Had you changed as much as he had? Sure you were also bigger now, but compared to him, you couldn’t imagine yourself as being anything but a silly little school girl, weak and nervous.

What else had changed, you wondered? Tomoko had filled you in on the rumors surrounding Taiju, but they weren’t something that you wanted to believe. However now that you had seen him currently, you couldn’t deny he had the swagger of someone who was up to no good, or could even be considered dangerous. Typical people your age didn’t show up to school buff as hell, covered in tattoos, and with a slew of rumors over previous violent exploits following in their wake.

You shook your head to dispel those thoughts. It had been years since you interacted with him, coming to conclusions about his character before even getting the chance to properly speak with him was not something you would allow yourself to do.

That is, if he even wanted to speak with you after you dipped out on him so quickly. Did you even have the courage within you to face him after forgetting your past with him and making such an ass of yourself?

You sighed, stopping to inspect the school yard as you approached the opening gates. A few people still milled about, most finishing up club activities or just getting done with some project or another. You were happy the building wasn’t completely abandoned, but also pleased by the desolation. The last thing you wanted was to run into a classmate who wanted to strike up a conversation while your mind felt like mush.

Still in your fog, you had made it to your classroom. Through the window on the entryway door you could tell the lights had been turned off, the only illumination coming from the rapidly setting sun streaming through widows along the back wall. It was quiet inside, and you breathed a sigh of relief when the handle pushed down, granting you access into the abandoned room.

At least, you thought it was abandoned.

“What do we have here,” a taunting voice startled you, “You lost, sweetheart?”

Before you sat Taiju Shiba, leaning back nonchalantly with his feet propped against your desk. Flanking him stood two equally imposing figures, neither of which you had ever seen before. One was to the right of Taiju, farthest from where you stood. He was the one who addressed you. His body swiveled your way as he gave you a once over, his amusement expressed with a low chuckle. Instinctively you took a small step back as he fully turned your way, which he was quick to take note of with a devious twinkle sparking in his eye. The stranger’s curled black hair cast shadows that obscured his face, but not enough to hide the sly grin that sat upon his lips.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” the blonde to the left of him spoke, his voice sounding much more aggressive than his impassive stare let on. His droopy, cold eyes held firm to you, causing you immense discomfort. You weren’t sure if it was the way the light fell on him or if his face was actually scarred, but based on his general disposition, you were leaning towards the latter. “We’re busy, leave.”

The darker haired boy gave another small laugh, “Damn Inupi, you certainly have a way with people, don’t you? The school is public domain and she’s wearing its uniform, which makes her a student. She has a right to be here,” he shot you a mischievous smile, “It’s just a bit unfortunate that she had to stumble in to this room while we were having an important meeting. Who knows what she could have heard through that door?”

You stiffened, goosebumps peppering your flesh as you now had the two strangers complete attention. The one addressed as Inupi was quick to speak after his cohort. “When you put it that way, maybe she should stay a bit? We’ll make sure she fully understand the importance of whatever she eavesdropped on not leaving this room.”

Before they could continue, Taiju’s firm voice halted them.

“Koko, Inupi,” he commanded. The two boys flinched as their names were spoken, turning a hesitant eye to the man who lounged behind them, “She’s here to see me, you can both leave now.”

A confused moment of silence hung in the air as the two boys looked from each other, to you, back to Taiju. The dark haired boy (or Koko as you had ascertained by process of elimination) was the first to respond.

“Here to see you,” he questioned, staring at you with far more interest now, “During the middle of our meeting? Boss, who is she?”

“My special guest,” Taiju shot back curtly, “Now fuck off.”

So concerned with the new faces, you momentarily forgot that Taiju was even present. However you were grateful when the two boys backed off, immediately deferring to the one who sat ominously behind them.

The boys shot each other one more glance before bowing to Taiju. They made their way to the exit, going around you on either side. You remained still, afraid to so much as breath until they were out of the room. Your eyes trained on the ground as they brushed against you. A small chuckle came from Koko, a shiver passing down your spine at the proximity of his voice.

“Go easy on her boss,” he joked, one foot out the door, “She looks delicate.”

The door clicked softly closed behind them, and you listened as their footsteps and murmured speech faded with their hasty exit.

Now you were alone with Taiju.

He removed his feet from your desk, placing them firmly on the floor. The movement caught your eye, your heart rate quickening as he leaned forward, back hunched as he rested his elbows on his knees. Even crouched he looked big, his solid, unflinching form making you feel a mix of comforted and uneasy. A heady feeling of nostalgia overcame you as his gaze stayed trained on yours, his expression difficult to read. You felt pinned down, unable to move or speak under the crushing weight of his stare and your own emotions.

Before you could stop them, you felt tears pool in your eyes. Suddenly you were seven years old again, standing in that desolate parking lot, staring at the boy who left such a gaping hole in your heart.  

“… Taiju,” Your voice cracked when you finally found the will to speak. You took an uncertain step forward, sweaty hand clamped tightly to your side, “I remember. The playground, that day… Those kids were chasing me and you found me in the playhouse. I remember all of it.” Your mind whirred as you contemplated what to say next, the end result coming out in a blubbering jumble.  “How could I have… it was awful of me to… I am so sorry-“

You were cut off by your own sobbing, unable to utter another word without a rush of tears. You buried your face in your hands in a poor attempt to mask the intense reaction. You felt ridiculous and confused, wanting to embrace him but knowing it was not your place to. You were more or less strangers now, and after forgetting him, you were sure he was hurt enough that he probably wanted it to remain that way.

Unsure of what else to say, you turned your face away from the man. Your surroundings had become obscured by your tears, the desks and chair encircling you little more than blurred brown blots. You sniffled, rubbing the back of your hand against your tear swelled eyes in a poor attempt to dispel them.

Nearly a decade had passed since you last spoke to him, and it was clear from his overall presentation that things had changed. He had changed. And to be fair, you had too. The reasonable side of you knew that this encounter may as well be considered the first time meeting Taiju, and the differences in your personalities at this point in life may be far too different to reconcile. So on top of making a continual fool of yourself in front of him, from what you saw and experienced thus far, you weren’t even entirely sure you would like the person he became.

It was that realization that made you hurt the most.

But that didn’t stop the desperate feeling that was clawing through your chest, wanting what you once had. Those rose hued days of childhood spent with your best friend, your protector, YOUR Taiju. The admiration and love that you had buried so deep had bubbled up, wracking your body with nervous energy as you stood before him. You wrapped your arms around yourself to quell your quivering, but it did little to get your emotions in check.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you neglected to hear Taiju move, only becoming aware of his presence as his feet came into view. Your eyes darted up, a sharp intake of breath passing your lips in surprise of how close he had become. This definitely constituted as invading your personal space, his body so close that if you leaned forward even the slightest you were sure to make contact with him. You considered taking a step back to give yourself room to breathe, but the glint his eyes held instantly made you reconsider.

His demeanor was expectant, eyes hungry. There was potency to his stare that made your knees feel weak, his presence domineering as he inspected you. You flinched when he raised a hand, stilling as he gently placed it atop your head.

“You’re still so small,” a taunting smirk tugged at his lips, “How’d you protect yourself while I was away?”

“You scared them enough that they left me alone after you moved away,” you hiccuped, still uncomfortable with his proximity, “I’ve been staying out of trouble since then.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his hand languidly petting down your head till it fell to your cheek. His palm was rough as it cradled you, but you were surprised by how delicate his hold was. His fingers barely ghosted your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Such a good girl,” his low voice created an eruption of butterflies in your stomach, “You always have been, haven’t you?”

He paused for a moment, his eye taking on a contemplative look.

“But even good girls can fuck up.”

Your brow furrowed in concern as his grip on you tightened, his hand coming just short of pinching you. Your heart hammered in your chest as he slowly bent down, only stopping once you were eye to eye. His jaw was set and his glare was cold, any hint of amiability far removed.

“You haven’t cheated on me, have you?” The words were sharp as he spoke them. His grip tight on your cheek, keeping your full attention trained his way.

“… Cheated?” Your confusion was palpable, frantic eyes scouring his face for any sign that he may be messing around.

He slammed his free hand behind you, making you jump. His body was now leaned into yours, caging you in between the wall and his broad form.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “Did you forget about me because you were too busy fucking around with someone else? Is that it?”

The surrealistic nature of the situation astounded you. “I don’t have a boyfriend?” It wasn’t a lie. You had had your share of crushes, sure. You had even had your first kiss, as lackluster as it may have been. But the closest thing you ever had to a true boyfriend was probably Taiju.

Your response only agitated him further, a strained laugh leaving his down turned lips, “Real funny babe, but I don’t remember ever fucking breaking up with you. In fact, I even recall you thanking me for being your boyfriend, or did you forget that too?”

You were dumbfounded by his words, staring at him blankly for a few moments before his eyes began to narrow, denoting that he was awaiting a response.

“I thought…” Your voice trailed off, the ‘you didn’t want me anymore?’ going unsaid. Whatever this situation was turning into, you realized directing any fault back at Taiju was not a good move.

“You thought what?” He spat back. You could feel his patience diminishing by the second.

“You’re right,” your voice came out as little more than a squeak, “we never did end things.” Fear was beginning to course through you when Taiju didn’t back down at your confirmation. If anything, he seemed to grow more heated by the moment. Your mind wandered back to the first time you met, how easily he was able to viciously tear down those other kids, the way he came back to you marked with their blood. If he was capable of that as a child, what damage could he inflict now?

He hummed, “So that makes you my mine,” his hand continued traveling downwards, stopping once it was secured around your neck, “And good girls don’t mess around on their boyfriends, right? My good girl certainly wouldn’t do that to me, would she?”

A feeling of trepidation welled up inside of you. Taiju was wrong. He had no right to threaten you over an agreement made in your youth, and he was the one who ultimately left you in the dust, not the other way around. Whatever twisted narrative he had running though his mind was no fault of your own. However, feeling the gentle press of his fingers on your neck, staring into the manic gleam reflected in his eyes, all you could do was nod your head what little his grip would allow you, hoping the reassurance, no matter how forced, would grant you enough leeway to have him trust you.

“You haven’t left my mind for day,” his voice was deceptively gentle, clashing with the strain your body felt in his grasp, “When I sleep I have dreams about you. When I am around other women I fantasize about you, envisioning the person you had become. My little (name), never once was I not thinking of you.”

With a sharp squeeze, his strong fingers cinched your airway.

“So how the fuck could you forget about me?”

You sputtered in his grasp. Your hands quickly latched to his arm, tugging him in a vain effort to loosen his hold. He studied you for a moment, his expression tumultuous. You couldn’t quite tell if he looked saddened, furious, or just a mixture of the two. Heavy tears rolled down your cheeks as you attempted to croak out his name, your struggle growing more desperate as the second ticked by.

A rogue tear had snaked its way down your cheek before coming to its final resting place atop Taiju’s hand. The barely noticeable sensation seemed to pull him to his senses. He relinquished his grip, a sharp, painful gasp tearing through your lungs with the new found freedom.  With little time to recover, his went to grab your chin, forcing his face so close to yours the tips of your noses were brushing.                  

“Explain it to me baby,” his voice was softer, but it didn’t lose its malicious edge, “because I’m having a real hard time understanding on my own.”

You were shaking so hard you were afraid you were going to collapse. Light headed from the lack of oxygen, your words were punctuated by shaky breaths as you responded. “I didn’t know what to do with myself when you left. When I watched you drive off that last time I felt like a part of me had gone away and was never going to come back.”

Despite the precarious situation, your cheeks burned red at your admission. You were quick to continue, “I-I guess my brain forcing you out was my response to be able to move on.” You looked up at him through teary eyes, “Taiju why didn’t you talk to me? I know you saw me. You were looking right at me and you still just left me behind. I can’t tell you how many nights I stayed up wondering what I did wrong.”

The tail end of sentence came out in little more than a breathy sob as you came to the realization that any blossoming hope for fixing your relationship was down the drain. The boy you used to know had abandoned you, and the man before you was clearly not the same person. Nauseous and embarrassed to be bearing your soul so openly, you squeezed your eyes closed, no longer wanting to face the truth that lay before you.

There were many moves Taiju could have made in this situation. You figured if anything, seeing you blubbering and frightened would just piss him off more, maybe even disgust him. Needless to say you were not expecting the feel of his lips on yours. Your eyes shot open, bewildered by the feel of his supple skin covering your mouth. Uncharacteristically soft at first, it took your brain a few seconds to catch up to what was actually going on. When there was no resistance on you end, Taiju took that as a sign to continue. The gentle caress became needy, eager. His hand released your chin to wrap firmly around the base of your skull, keeping you from any attempts of pulling away. His other arm snaked around your waist, jerking your body flush against his own. His thick arm kept you plastered to him, his hand flipping up your skirt to shamelessly grope your ass.

That broke you from your daze, the severity of the situation you were in hitting you full force. You squirmed in his grasp, but that only made his hold tighter, constricting you to a point of pain. You whimpered when he forced his tongue past your lips, his mouth feverishly working yours until your jaw ached. A groan of approval rumbling from his chest when you, unsure of how else to proceed, weakly began to reciprocate. You were afraid of what he might do if you didn’t.

It was all so invasive, uncomfortable. You felt like you were being devoured.

After some time Taiju broke away, but made no move to distance himself. Panting with eyes blazing, his voice came out husky as he spoke to you.

“I never wanted to leave you behind. Don’t for a second think that was my own choice.” He straightened himself out, pushing your head against his chest. The sound of his rapidly beating heart thrummed in your ear as he cradled you. “I never forgave my father for that. But at that time I was just a kid, powerless to make any moves without his intervention. But know this, no one holds power over me now.”

Silence hung heavy in the air, your neck hurting from a mix of his previous choke hold and the awkward angle he held you in. You remained frozen against him, not wanting to upset the delicate peace that had come over Taiju. He released a breath, his arms loosening their grip on you. When he stepped back, you took the chance to also create some space as well, quickly tidying your uniform and hair to revert back to some semblance of normalcy, pretending that none of this had just occurred.

“You’re forgiven this time, but playing dumb again will award you no favors,” a devilish smirk lit his face, “You’re lucky I love you. That and that you look so fucking hot crying for me like that.”

Any flushing your body experienced increased tenfold with his words. You wanted to run and hide, and this desire must have shown on your face, as it elicited another snicker from Taiju. You made due with folding your arms across your chest, taking in steady breathes to calm your rampant nerves.

This entire evening felt so unreal that there wasn’t a single moment your brain wasn’t plagued with questions. Profoundly concerned with how openly he grabbed you, how quickly he told you he loves you, and how easily he forced himself on you as if he had the right to, you had no idea where to even begin unraveling this moment. You weren’t the same person you once were, how could he so boldly declare these affections to you so soon after seeing you again?

There were voices screaming in the back of your head to run, he wasn’t safe, you should be angry, you should stand up for yourself, none of this is normal, you need to leave now and tell someone what happened.

But the way his eyes held you, a serene sort of affection in them as he smirked down at your flustered form, you couldn’t deny the way it made your stomach flip into a knot of giddiness. Taiju was back. Were you really going to let him slip away again without a proper chance?

He began making his way to the exit door. Propping it open with his foot, he turned back to you and extended his hand.

“Come on,” he called, “We have catching up to do.”

Despite all your reservations you nodded, grabbing on to his outstretched hand.

~

Today was all about being pushed outside your comfort zone.

It was nearing night time now. You had sent a quick call to your parents to let them know you would be home late, concocting a lie that you had gone to Tomo’s house to study and her parents had invited you to stay for dinner. You didn’t’ always see eye to eye with your parents, and you definitely had your disagreements with them, but they loved you and always had your best interests in mind. There was an unpleasant lump in your throat as the fib spilled so easily from your lips, knowing they had no reason not to trust you. You were riddled with guilt as your dad’s pleasant voice told you to have fun and not get up to too much mischief, telling you he loved you before hanging up the call.

If he knew the house you were really headed to was Taiju’s, would he still be so understanding?

At the time of departure, you weren’t sure where Taiju was taking you. You had asked him of course, but only got a snipped ‘don’t worry about it’ in response. The danger of the situation was not lost on you, but you calmed yourself down by reassuring yourself that people had watched you leave the building with Taiju, you had spoken to your family and they were expecting you home tonight, and above all, Taiju himself wouldn’t do anything to truly jeopardize your safety, right?

You had departed with him on the back of his motorcycle, which was a first for you. Apprehensive to even board the bike, you swore Taiju made a point to drive extra recklessly if for no other reason than to feel your arms squeeze him tighter as you held on for dear life. Woozy from the sharp turns and sudden accelerations, by the time you had parked and got off the bike your legs were so unsteady you were concerned you couldn’t make it inside without stumbling.

If there was a word you would attribute to Taiju’s current home it would be ‘affluent’. Your jaw nearly dropped when he walked you to the front of the towering building, its pristine modern walls glistening in the light of the street lamps. Seeing your expression Taiju smirked, assuring you the whole thing wasn’t theirs. The building itself was a condominium of sorts and housed many families, only about a floor of it belonged to the Shiba’s.

“Oh, so only a floor of the fanciest complex in the neighborhood belongs to your family,” you joked nervously, standing behind him as he keyed in the code to unlock the front gate. “How silly of me. Should I expect a butler greeting me at the door?”

Taiju snorted, glancing back at you as he stepped through the now open gateway. “Get your head out of the clouds and come on. I didn’t bring you here to gawk at the architecture.”

You nodded, blushing a bit in embarrassment. Following closely behind Taiju, you couldn’t’ help but marvel the sleek feel of the place. The spotless welcome desk manned by an equally put together looking hostess, a small waiting area off the lobby housing the plushest furniture you had ever seen, the lustrous hallway housing the stairs and elevator. Even the inside of the elevator itself seemed ornate as you traveled up to his floor.

The elevator stopped at its destined floor, dinging as the doors unfolded. You followed after Taiju who walked a few steps further down the hallway.

“Joke aside, this place really is beautiful Taiju,” you spoke as he slid his key in the door, “It makes me happy knowing you and your family can live in such a nice place.” You didn’t want to come off as judgmental, but based on Taiju’s rough exterior and what you remembered of his situation, you were more than a little concerned with what his life at home may be like.

You couldn’t see what expression he wore as he opened the door, but his voice rang clear as he responded to you.

“I know how to take care of my people.”

You only had a moment to muse on the strangeness of his statement, confused as to why he made it seem like he was the main bread winner in their family. Sure, he may have a part time job of some kind, but surely their father was who ran the household and paid the expenses, right? He may even be remarried at this point, this home certainly seemed like a shared expenses kind of deal.

“You’re home early,” an irritated, feminine voice broke your concentration, “I thought you said you’d be out late tonight?”

Taiju grunted, “Plans changed. (Name), come here.”

You followed his order, stepping into the entryway beside him. The interior was just as nice as the rest of the place, smartly furnished and without a thing out of place. The only disturbance in the décor was a rogue bowl with a spoon inside that sat atop the coffee table beside the couch. The cushions of said couch were in bit of disarray as well, obscured by the girl seated on top of them.

She looked about your age, and despite the fact that her face was scrunched into an unamused scowl, you were taken with how lovely she was. Her copper hair was thrown up in a messy bun, and from the look of her comfy attire, she had already donned her sleep wear for the night. Her eyes were impassive as they bore into Taiju, but you noticed she was giving him her undivided attention, posture rigid as she waited for Taiju to continue.

“Introduce yourself to (Name).” He commanded, placing his hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Her manners seemed forced, her address to you distant as she gave a brief bow. “I’m Yuzuha Shiba, Taiju’s sister.”

Recognition once again flooded your brain. She had grown, but those clear defiant eyes were unmistakable. You bowed back to her, a smile on your lips.

“I’m (First) (Last),” you righted yourself, “um, it’s nice seeing you again…”

She shot you a quizzical look. It made sense that she wouldn’t recognize you. You certainly would have had no recollection of her if not for Taiju sparking your memory. Regardless, it was nice to see her. You always felt bad for how you left things that day, maybe now you could make amends.

“Are you still having trouble getting doll clothes on?”

The look of confusion that knotted her brow eased with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she spoke, getting to her feet, “You’re the girl who helped me on that play date you had at our house! You said (Name), right?”

You laughed softly, slightly ashamed that she was able to remember you so quickly when you had to struggle to remember her family. “Yeah, that’s me! It’s been a long time. I’m surprised you remember me at all.”

Yuzuha returned your laugh, but you noticed there was a hint of melancholy to it. “Well it’s kinda hard to forget someone when they remain a source of conversation in your household for years.” Her eyes shot to Taiju, her expression instantly falling, “I guess he ended up finding you again, huh?”

Before you had the chance to dig deeper into Yuzuha’s reply, you felt Taiju step up beside you. Looking up at his face, you noted he was giving Yuzuha a pointed look, fists starting to form at his side.

Realizing her brother’s discontent, she cleared her throat, “But yeah, it’s good to see you too.” She shifted her weight on her feet, tucking a strand of rogue hair behind her ear. She was doing her best to ignore Taiju’s steady surveillance of her, the intense monitoring making even you uneasy. It seemed the sibling’s relationship hadn’t gotten any better in the past few years.

“So how did you guys meet up anyway,” she sounded mellow, but her nervous ticks continued, “did you bump into each other out on the street or…?”

“We’re in the same class,” you responded cheerily, attempting to alleviate the uncomfortable gloom that had overtaken your arrival, “I feel horrible, I didn’t recognize Taiju at first, even though he recognized me right away. We had a whole conversation and everything before I realized who he was, if you can believe that. ” You smiled at the man in question shyly, before looking back to Yuzuha, “I’m excited to make up lost time with you guys.”

It was your turn to feel uncomfortable as Taiju inched up closer to you, intertwining his long, lithe fingers with your own. Still unused to such blatant physical contact your stomach flipped as he gave your hand a tight squeeze. Yuzuha’s eyes darted to where you connected with her brother, a dismal look displaying on her girlish face.

It would be easy to mistake her look for one of distaste. In the brief time you had seen them interact, Taiju and Yuzuha certainly seemed like oil and water, but maybe you were wrong about their relationship? It was possible she and Taiju had actually grown tightknit and the thought of some random girl coming in to throw off the balance was nothing but an annoyance to her. Perhaps to her you were an eyesore, and those weird comments earlier about you being a point of discussion were jabs at you that went right over your head.

If it weren’t for the fact that her eyes were filled with so much regret, peering over at you as if she were in mourning for you, that you would be inclined to believe that that were the case.

“Where’s Hakkai?”

Taiju’s question perked Yuzuha up. Her fidgeting ended, her body becoming fixed in place.

“He went out for a little bit, said he was gonna grab some dinner with a friend or something.”

She sounded disinterested, almost emotionless in her response. But partnered with her quick change in posture you got the feeling she was covering for him, and with how trained her response came, it was not the first time she had done it either.

Taiju scoffed, “Well isn’t it a shame that we’ll have to end that little pow-wow early? Call him right now and tell him to come home. It’s rude to leave when guests are over.”

His barked words garnered Yuzuha’s glare, “How could he have known (name) was coming over? You didn’t even know she was coming over! Please Taiju, he won’t be much later, can’t we just-“

“That doesn’t fucking matter,” Taiju growled, releasing his hold on you as he took a step towards his sister, “You both come when I call, no questions asked. Now pick up the damn phone, or I’ll-”

Before you could fully think out a response, you lurched forward and gripped his arm to stop him. His head jerked your way, annoyance in his eyes as words began to rush from your mouth.

“It’s OK Taiju, really,” your voice shook, intimidated as you felt the muscles of his arm flex in your grasp, “I came over here to spend time with you, right? It would be nice to have Hakkai here, but you’re the one I really want to be catching up right now with, you know? I’m sure I’ll see Hakkai some other time when I come over to visit you again.”

His ego was stroked just enough by your words that his demeanor calmed. He was pleased by your response, a slight smile displayed on his lips. Seeing him calm soothed you as well. At least for now Yuzuha and Hakkai were out of the hot seat. You were learning very quickly the best way to handle Taiju’s mood swings.

After a moment’s contemplation, Taiju sighed. “Fine, leave him be. But next time, he better be here to show some respect or there will be problems.”

Without further interruption, he locked your hand in his. Tugging you towards him with a huff, he meandered off deeper into their home, pulling you along in tow.

“Don’t fucking bother us.” He called over his shoulder to his sister, who had once more seated herself on the couch. She shot you one last look, one that conveyed equal parts gratitude and apology.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

~

Taiju’s room, though technically an entirely different room now, was a lot like how you recalled it.

It was much larger than his childhood room, comfortably housing a number of furniture pieces and a sizable bed with room to spare. Everything inside were neat and orderly, save for a few misplaced and tussled items here and there. As soon as you both had entered he made a quick pass through, straightening something here, concealing something there. He told you to sit at a small, low table that sat square in the center of the room. You complied, and as you situated yourself he remarked that he would be right back with something to drink.

You were grateful for a moment to yourself as he slipped out of the door, closing it securely behind him. You released a deep sigh, dropping your head till it was resting flat against the table’s smooth surface. Now that it was just you and your thoughts, worry began to rear its ugly head. Was it really a good idea to be here, or were you just letting fuzzy memories of bygone days cloud your better judgement? The way Taiju had treated you since your reunion… It wasn’t healthy and it certainly wasn’t right. You placed your hand gingerly on your neck, cringing at the sting left by his fingers. He had forced himself on you and took advantage of you in a state of vulnerability. Even his own sister was treated like some kind of foot solider he could order around. If he could treat people he says he loves like that, you’d hate to see how he handles the people he hates.

Your heavy eyes fell closed as your mind continued its contemplation's. For him to push his built up affections on you, feelings that had long since lost the innocence of your childhood day, right after seeing him again after years apart… it was too much too soon. He was already demanding so much of you and was treating you as if you belonged to him. The longer you dwelled on these thoughts, the more despondent you became. You missed your old Taiju, you wanted him back. But was any trace of him left inside that man at all?

You steeled your resolve. If Taiju kept treating you this way, you decided you wouldn’t let it go farther than this.  The fate of your relationship hinged on this conversation. You clenched the wrinkled fabric of your skirt in your fist, heart pounding in your tight chest. If you knew it was going to be this hard, you almost wished he had stayed a forgotten memory.

“You didn’t fall asleep on me, did you?”

Bolting upright, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He scoffed as he sat down a mug of steaming tea before you.

“Damn baby, if you’re bored just say it. I can liven things up whenever you like.”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore the underlying connotations of his comment, “I’m sorry, I was just taking a moment to breathe. It’s been quite the day.”

You laughed nervously, hoping he wouldn’t misconstrue your words. To your relief, he simply nodded, plopping down across from you at the other end of the table. He let out a long sigh, leaning back on one arm while resting the other on his knee. You noticed he seemed much more relaxed in the comfort of his own room. With no one else around, the air of animosity that enveloped him at all times broke, making Taiju much more approachable. Though never truly loosing its edge, his face had calmed too, placidity over taking it that you wouldn’t think was previously possible with Taiju.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad it’s just us.” Your heart fluttered at how soft his voice sounded as he spoke. Momentarily lost in the adoring look he had captured you in, you found yourself smiling back.

Hope began to bloom in your chest. Maybe Taiju wasn’t a lost cause.

“Me too,” you beamed, blowing lightly on your tea before taking a small sip. It was (fav. flavor), your favorite, though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t have known that. Tea was a gross adult drink the last time you two had interacted, soda and sugary juices reigning supreme. Maybe his choice was a lucky guess, or maybe his penchant for reading you hadn’t changed.

“Maybe I should go say hello to your father,” the thought donned as you as you put down your cup. Your arrival was rather abrupt and you didn’t feel right barging into someone’s home so unannounced. “If he’s home, that is. If you guys were planning dinner or something it would be rude to show up unannounced, you know?”

Taiju laughed, “Always so polite, huh? Don’t worry though, dads gone so much that he has his own place. It’s just me, Hakkai, and Yuzuha here.” Taiju took a drink of his own beverage, “I want you to know you can come over whenever and treat this place as your home. You don’t have to be on edge.”

You waved your hand, “Easier said than done, I’d hate to be a bother to you guys,” you smiled, “But I’ll try. Thank you for the warm welcome.”

A beat of time passed before the rest of his words sunk into your brain. “Wait a minute, you guys live here alone?” The incredulity slipped out in your tone, “Are you guys okay? You aren’t… struggling, are you?”

He closed his eyes in consideration. “If you’re worried we can’t afford it, we wouldn’t be here if that were the case. I told you, I take care of my people.”

You gave a hesitant nod, happy he didn’t take offense to your concern, but still surprised by this revelation. Was Mr. Shiba so wealthy he could afford this place for his children, as well as a place on his own? Or were Taiju, Yuzuha, and Hakkai footing the bill on their own? Regardless, it certainly was not a typical family situation.

“How about you,” Taiju spoke up, “You still living in the same place with your family?”

“Yes, I am. Same house not too far from here, actually.”

You were surprised at how fluidly the conversation progressed from there, with no uncomfortable gaps, weird moments of silence, or forced pleasantries. You found it easy to open up to Taiju again as he listened intently to every story you regaled him with. He was an active participant, throwing you questions left and right, taking every answer to heart. It was refreshing, speaking so freely with him without him snapping in response. He seemed content just to be basking in your presence, reveling in the tales you shared of your life from past to current. The only time his face ticked to irritation would be when you would mention any male friends, so to keep the peace you made sure to keep those stories to a minimum.

You, of course, wanted to hear more about Taiju as well. He reciprocated, answering your questions with an aloof attitude, playing himself up whenever you seemed to take a particular interest in something he said.  It would get frustrating at points, especially when you found out Taiju was a master of redirection. Any time he mentioned something concerning from his past he was quick to change the subject, directing new questions your way in hopes you would forget. Even if you tried to come back to a previous subject, he’d shoot you a look letting you know it was best to drop it and move on, to which you complied. You were certain he was omitting certain details from you on purpose, probably because he could see how leery you grew when he spoke too much in a certain direction.

One thing was for sure, you were smart enough to piece together that his ‘well-paying and rewarding job’ was probably something you wanted as little information about as possible, and that his two ‘friends’ you met previously probably weren’t just shooting the breeze earlier when you interrupted their meeting.

Despite your concerns for Taiju and his current lifestyle, you spent the conversation in a state of elation. Now that you knew you could freely communicate with him, the future didn’t seem so uncertain. You could continue to grow together, learn about each other, and he would listen to what you had to say and (hopefully) take it to heart.

After some time had passed, your eyes happened to fall upon a clock Taiju had in his room. You heart dropped when you saw the vibrant 12:32AM glaring back at you.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, pointing to the clock in question, “That isn’t right is it?”

He lazily looked back, “Sure is. God, we are really gossiping like old ladies, aren’t we?”

Without responding to him, you grabbed your school bag that was leaning against the table leg. Rummaging through, it took a moment to find your phone at the bottom of all your belongings. Your anxiety spiked when you saw the numerous missed calls and texts from your parents. The most recent text was from Tomoko, and you instinctively pulled it up to read what she had to say.

(12:17pm) From Tomz:

Hey, can u message me when u get this? Ur parents have been blowing me up asking when u r gonna be home. I figured u had a reason for sayin u would be here so I vouched and said time got away from us and u would be home soon. But now I am just worried bcause ur mom text me again saying u aren’t back yet. L Plz let me know u r OK, I’m worried!!!

As you read her words, you gave a lopsided grin. Good ‘ol Tomo, she was always someone you could count on to have your back. You were lucky to have her in your life.

Your fingers flew as you typed out your reply.

(12:37am) From Me:

Thx so much!!! I am soooo srry I’ll call them right away. I’m fine! It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it later. I owe u something good for this. <3

Directly after you had hit send, Taiju placed his hand over your phone, enveloping the screen.

“Hey,” you said, attempting to pull your phone away from his iron clad grasp, “Come on Taiju, I have to call my parents! I didn’t realize it had gotten this late. They are worried sick.”

“Tell them you’re spending the night.”

You felt as if all your blood had drained from your body when you heard the provocative tone of his voice. You searched his face for any hint of joking, and when you found no hint of play, a shiver shook your body.

He shifted himself around the table, scooting himself until he was directly at your side. In this apprehensive state, you loosened the grip on your phone. Quick to take note of this, he took it entirely in his hand, tossing it off in the corner of the room. Your body trembled harder as you felt him over you. Not quite touching you, yet close enough to feel his heat, his breath fanned against your hair.

“If they come and try to get you, you can tell your mom my kick has become a lot stronger since the last time she met me.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you muttered out, “I told them I would be home later, it makes sense they would be upset. I haven’t messaged them since I left the school.”

“They can get over it,” he countered, “Whoever tries to take you from me now is asking to get their ass beat.”

You scoffed, “Taiju, don’t you think that may be a little unreasonable?”

“I don’t. I prayed for this moment nightly, and my prayers were answered today.” His eyes took on a predatory sheen. “God gifted you back into my life. I’m not letting anyone else take you away ever again.”

You gasped when he hooked an arm around you, hoisting the two of you to your feet. He shoved you upright, the sudden action making you unsteady. Using this to his advantage he stalked closer to you, herding you back in the process. It all happened so quickly you had no time for resistance, the back of your legs hitting the side of his bed caused your knees to give way. You tumbled, your back landing against his plush comforter with a soft swoosh. He was quick to crawl over you, loosening his tie in the process.

“Last time you were on my bed we were too little for me to realize the opportunity I had before me,” his lips hovered over your own, expectant and ravenous eyes scouring your face as he savored the moment. “I’m not going to let it slip by me again.”

He crashed into you, lips furiously working yours as he forced his tongue inside. Finding his power too hard to combat, you accepted his kiss, whimpering when his teeth tugged roughly on your bottom lip. He made quick work of his shirt, nearly ripping it from his torso so that his hands could once again find purchase on your body. You squirmed in his feverish touch, whining as his hands groped up your sides, shamelessly kneading and pawing at your thighs, hips, stomach, and breasts in slow succession. He began to unbutton your top as he forced the lower half of his body in between your legs, sinking you down even deeper into his bed. You jolted as he pressed himself against your core, the unmistakable hardness you felt causing you to tremble beneath him.

Your arms flew to his chest, pushing on him in a futile attempt to shove him off of you. You were already distressed by the situation as is, but feeling him grind against you made you realize things were about to get so much worse.

He growled into your throat, knocking your hands aside to prevent what little resistance you displayed. He shimmied out of his pants before impatiently tearing through the last remaining buttons your shirt, your bra the only article now protecting your modesty. Wasting no time, his lips blazed over you, leaving a scorching trail down your neck and chest that left a pleasant burn on your flesh. His hands continued their ministrations, eliciting small gasps with every valley they traveled. Your nerves were slowly waning, trembles of fear turning into quivers of excitement. Though still scared, you couldn’t deny the pleasant pulse that Taiju was coaxing from within you.

His tongue laved over the skin the spilled from the top of your bra, nibbling and sucking his mark into the supple flesh. He flipped up your skirt so that he could press into your further. You whimpered as he rocked against you, getting a feeling for the magnitude of his length and girth. Wetness seeped from you, mingling with the precum that stained through his boxers.

“Do you feel that,” his voice was throaty, “Do you feel how much I want you? Do you know how much I fantasized about making this pretty pussy mine?”

He pulled himself up, needy mouth returning to your swollen lips in a quick kiss. Momentarily parting himself, he looked you square in the eye. His hair fell around his face, curtaining him off from the rest of the world. Only you could see the state he was in. Draped over you, his chest was rapidly rising and falling with ragged breaths. His golden eyes were blown wide, the perfect accent to his flushed face. He darted his tongue out to pass over his bottom lip, giving your disheveled form a drawn out once over. As he simpered down at you, he wore a look of utter intoxication. Caged in, he had you right where he wanted.

“I hate that you were taken from me.” He leaned in closer, “I hate that in that time some dickhead could have touched you, hurt you. I hate that I had to spend years of my fucking life without you by my side.”

“Taiju…” Your voice came out breathy as you stared into his face. You were taken with how handsome he looked in the moment, wild and passionate, ready to snap any moment and devour you whole. Your panic ebbed, leaning into the large hand that made its way to your cheek. He used his thumb to gently skim under your eye, wiping away rogue tears you hadn’t realized that you had shed.

“You’re mine to protect, mine to love, mine to have, and in turn, I’m yours. Do you understand, (name)? You understand that this is where you belong?”

Without awaiting an answer, his lips once more sought your own. The desperation in his voice and in his touches made your previous resolution of standing up to him fly out the window. Your body melted as he held you, kissed you, loved you. You were both drowning in him and being resuscitated by him at the same time. Your brain was no longer making any sense at it warred and screamed about the situation you had caught yourself in. A nagging voice at the back of your mind was blaring that things were moving too fast, that you need to think this through. But right now you didn’t really care about the finer details, choosing instead listen to your heart as it pumped mercilessly in your chest, struggling violently to reach out to Taiju. It wanted him, needed him, and that was the only thing that currently made any sense to you in this heady moment.

“Yes,” you whispered in between kisses, finally working up the courage to truly kiss him back. No one ever made you feel this way like this before, his touches an experience you wanted to carve so deeply into yourself that you would never forget them. “I’m yours.”

“That’s my baby girl,” Taiju purred. He trailed his coarse palm up your thigh, fingers teasing their way up under your skirt. He stopped once he had hooked a finger through the elastic of your panties.

“You think you feel good now,” his voice was shaking with excitement as he started to tug, “Wait until I fill you up. It’s time to make up for all that lost time together.”

Feeling yourself become slowly exposed broke you from your daze. You felt good right now, better than you ever felt with another boy, and you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a large part of you that yearned to continue. But the truth was that this was your first time, and you were incredibly unprepared. You had barely even made it past first base in the past, and while this was all new and exciting, the thought of giving in and the repercussions that could cause was enough to make you feel sick. Even in a lust filled haze, the cons of where this all could lead was enough to clear up your mind.

“Wait,” your hand latched to his, halting his motions, “I-I don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet.”

“What do you mean,” Taiju responded, attempting to coerce you with soft kisses littered on your shoulder and chest, “Of course you are. I’m going to make you feel good baby, trust me. Haven’t you missed me?”

You fought him as he continued to tug, your grip staying firm, “I did miss you, but you’ve already made me feel good and I’m not ready to go that far. Please, stop.”

In response to your plea, Taiju released a deep sigh.  

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

In a fluid motion, he yanked his hand from your grasp, relocating it to your sopping folds. You mewled when he roughly shoved his fingers against your entrance, taking his time in trailing them up and down the length of you, giving special attention to when he would pass over your bud. More tears sprang to your eyes as you writhed beneath him, doing your best to create distance between the two of you. He had none of it, laughing darkly at your weak escape attempt. A toothy grin overtook his face as he watched your expressions contort under his forced pleasure.

Though you were fighting it, your body nonetheless began to relax under his touch, the slow, sensual glide of his fingers causing a mounting pleasant ache to electrify your body. Once he was satisfied with his work, he removed his hand. He clucked his tongue condescendingly as you bucked your hips up at him, missing the sensation. With his free hand, he latched onto your chin, forcing your lips apart to plunge his digits into your mouth. Your tongue rolled across his fingers, the bitter taste of your own slick assaulting your senses. After he felt you adequately licked them clean, he ripped his hand from your mouth.

“Taste that? That’s your body begging me to fuck your brains out,” he snarled. Gripping your hair he pulled your head up so that you were eye to eye. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, rested itself in a tight hold around your neck.

“So what now? You feel like being a bitch and lying to me again, or are you going to let me have my way? Either way this is ending the same sweetheart, but I can’t say you’ll much enjoy it if you decide to keep being a lying brat.”

Your mind was whirring, overwhelmed with the stimulus and terror. Were you going to be raped? Is that really how your night with Taiju was about to end? Your head was throbbing, your neck was sore, and your heart once again felt as if it were being shattered into a million pieces.

“Please Taiju,” you begged, “I’m not ready for this!” Your cries continued falling on deaf ears, and you were growing more desperate when his hand left your neck, making the descent back to your skirt.

“Please… I love you, I just… I just want my first time with you to be perfect! I want myself to be perfect for you, please… I want you so bad, but I don’t want to rush our time together!”

Your mind had become such a hazy mess that you weren’t quite sure what words you were babbling anymore. Your body that moments prior was vibrating in ecstasy, was now shaking with sobs. You felt disgusting and betrayed lying on Taiju’s bed, half naked and covered in all manner of bodily discharge. You wanted to ball yourself up so tight no one would ever be able to get to you again, but you remained splayed out, open and vulnerable to the man above you. You sniffled, biting down so hard on your bottom lip it split, the tang of blood spilling across your tongue. It was ironic, you thought. In all the ways you had been hurt today you had yet to bleed until you inflicted it upon yourself.

Being so caught up in your emotions, you didn’t realize that Taiju had stopped his assault. It wasn’t until you felt your body being scooped up, arms wrapped around you protectively as he rested your head in the crook of his neck, that you began to quiet yourself. He pressed his cheek to the crown of your head, running his fingers absentmindedly through your hair. You stared at the curving tattoos that ran along his chest, momentarily stunned by what was occurring.

“Idiot,” he spoke, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, “You already are perfect for me, that’s why I want you so damn bad. But when you say cute shit like that I can’t help but listen to you.” He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, releasing another irritated sigh.

“Only you can turn me into fucking sap, you know that?”

You buried yourself deeper against his body to ground yourself, hoping to hide how rattled you were. This was such a close call. He was more than ready to have his way with you whether you wanted to or not, and the whole time you were powerless to stop him.

So why was he being so sweet now?

Why did you feel so comforted in his arms?

You didn’t understand any of this.

“Can I go home?” You choked.

“Yeah, but I’m going to take you,” he remarked, sounding the slightest bit defeated, “Clean yourself up first. I’m sure your parents are already going to bitch at you for this, let’s try not to make it worse.”

You gave a curt nod, and he released you. Scooting from the bed, you wanted nothing more than to get home and get a scalding shower. Maybe if you scrubbed enough, you’d be able to forget the whole night ever happened. The rest of the messy situation could wait till later to sort out.

You had made it to your feet, but before you could take a step forward Taiju’s thick arm draped itself across your shoulder. You stilled, tension gripping your body. He hadn’t changed his mind about letting you go home, had he?

“You better start working on a convincing story now,” his voice was husky in your ear, dripping with barely concealed lust that was enough to reignite your panic. He brushed your hair to one side, placing a lingering open mouthed kiss in the dip of your neck. A shiver rocked you as his lips languidly sucked at your sensitive skin, intent on leaving one final mark.

“Tomorrow I’m not letting you leave. You’re staying the whole night with me.”

His hold was not so tight that you couldn’t pull away, yet you found yourself unable to move. One part of you was begging you to run, get out of this place and sprint down the street without looking back. Once you were in the safety of your own home, he couldn’t get you. Just like with the bullies of your childhood, once you passed the threshold of your house, you were invincible.

But a bigger, bitterer part of you laughed at that naivety. You understood now why Yuzuha had looked at you so forlornly. She knew better than anyone once you were in Taiju’s possession that there was no escaping.

“Yeah,” you were quick to wipe a tear from your eye, taking a steadying breath before you continued.

“I look forward to it.”

[chrisevansredbelt]

The Snow Maiden: Two

read chapter 1 here!

pairing: bucky x reader, bucky x hydraexperiment!reader , bucky x enhanced!reader

warnings: not that much here i don’t think. maybe like mention of missing persons. kidnapping… uhhh hmm i think that’s it.

i’m sorry this chapter feels very short but i promise it’s juicy and a lot to unpack inside 🫣

summary: one very big step closer to finding out who the girl is? perhaps…

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

After a moment of confused stares and glances between Steve and Tony, Steve speaks cautiously in a manner not to scare Bucky into thinking they don’t believe him or anything like that.

“How do you know?”

“The dream.” Is all he mutters out in response, a far off look in his eyes as he recounts the events in his dreams that turn up foggy in his mind. Squinting a little in frustration at how little he remembers even though he’d woken up less then 2 minutes ago, “I think- maybe, they tried to wipe my memories of her when they took her away.”

“They took her away?” Tony interjects, raised brows as he tries to piece out the puzzle.

“I don’t know-“ Bucky shakes his head, “In the dream, she was yelling for me… Like she was being taken.”

Tony just nods, taking note of the name before prompting Bucky to add more, “Anything else?”

Bucky thought for a second that he might mention the warm feeling he felt, her hands. But figured there wasn’t much they could probably do with that and they already knew about her hands. And maybe the warm feeling was just the thought of her… He doesn’t exactly know what he means by that. So he just shakes his head ‘no’.

Tony just nods, closing up the thick file in his hands that contained all the documents Steve had given him, plus the small scribble of the name ‘Y/N’, “I’ll let Fury know.”

And with that, Tony pulls out his phone and exits the lab.

It’s comfortably silent as Steve and Bucky sit across from each other now. Bucky deep in thought while Steve just waits patiently for Bucky to speak. After a while, Steve starts to notice the furrow in Bucky’s eyebrow deepen to a point where he grows a little concerned.

“Are you okay?” He breaks the silence in the room, making Bucky inhale quickly and come back down to earth.

“Yeah, yeah-“ He shakes his head, smiling shortly at Steve before sighing, “It’s not the worst dream I’ve had.”

He would’ve added a sly comment on how it was probably one of the better ones he’s had but that wasn’t exactly the mood at the moment.

Steve knew he was refraining from telling him what was really going on in his head. But that was okay, Steve was sure he was probably just overthinking.

Steve just offers a small smile in response before speaking, “I think- with what you’ve given us- we’ll be sure to find her in no time.”

Bucky had gone back to bed that night but it was no use. He tried to dream of her again, hoping to gather more information about her vicariously through his dreams but also because… something about the dream just made him feel warm.

It was so difficult to explain, but he just longed for that warmth so bad. The second he closed his eyes and felt the coldness of a nightmare start to build, he shot awake.

After a few more tries of dreaming that both led to one nightmare after the other, Bucky eventually gave up and found that it would soon be morning anyway.

-

When it was a more decent time of the morning, Bucky had made his way down to the compound gym before showering and making himself breakfast.

Halfway through eating, Steve had clapped him on the shoulder with a hopeful look on his face and signalled for Bucky to follow him.

Bucky had followed almost instantly, trailing behind Steve as he guided him through the compound on an all too familiar route to Tony’s lab.

Entering through the open door, Bucky eyed Tony and Banner momentarily before his eyes flew to the screen in front of him. Many pictures of a young girls face blown up on the screen, a missing child poster and a rendition of one of the photos made to look like what said girl would look like if she was older.

“Y/F/N. Missing since she was 10 years old, kidnapped on her way to school in Voronezh, Russia. Presumed dead. No father, mother died of pneumonia a year after the loss of the child.” Tony reads off his computer, looking cautiously at Bucky before pursing his lips and finalising, “No remaining family.”

Well, they at least had their motive as to why she was specifically kidnapped. No remaining family to mourn for her loss and maintain her case.

All three men watch as Bucky scans the projector a mile a minute. Steve is the first to speak to him, “Recognise her?”

Bucky just nods quickly, eyes never leaving the screen- as if scared she won’t be there if he takes his eyes away, “That’s her.” He confirms. He remembered. Well, he still didn’t know exactly who she was, but he knew it was her, “I-Is there anything else?” He asks Tony, a hint of desperation in his voice that only Steve caught on.

“Nothing on her whereabouts now.” Tony shakes his head, “But with a name and a face, shouldn’t be too hard.”

Whether that meant to infiltrate hundreds of abandoned bases to find information, to travel to Sokovia or Russia and conduct a man hunt by his lonesome, Bucky didn’t care. He didn’t know why, but something inside him ached for him to find her.

To find you.

-

Bucky had since gone off with Steve to do some more intense research on current data they had on Hydra bases they’d raided previously. They didn’t exactly know what they were looking for, anything really though. Anything that hinted to her whereabouts, maybe where she was held, any missions reports she’d been on, testings conducted. Anything.

In the meantime, Tony had continued sifting through the police reports and the missing persons case that had long been closed. There wasn’t much evidence aside from a few statements, possible connections to other missing child’s cases and a few conspiracies but that was it.

So Tony had a bit of work ahead of him. He would have to look through hundreds more reports of missing children’s, then all their evidences, then the timeline, then possible sightings, then location points. It was a lot.

And considering his area of research was Russia, who better to help him than the Russian herself?

She would translate a lot for him, most documents he needed being in Russian and all.

So now, as Natasha sits and scribbles the translation of a document in front of her, Tony stares aimlessly at the projection in front of him still showing the pictures he had shown Bucky early this morning.

“You don’t recognise her at all, do you?” He suddenly asks Natasha, the thought popping into his head intrusively. He figured not otherwise he’s sure she would’ve said something, but just to be safe he thought he’d ask anyway.

Natasha just looks up at him before darting her eyes briefly to the screen, “No.” She shakes her head, glancing up at Tony every so often as she reverts her eyes back to the paper in front of her, “Why?”

Tony just shrugs, “It’s just so strange how similar you too are.” He begins to search on his computer, entering different files before opening up the security footage from the convenience store- replaying and slowing down the clips of the girl fighting. He watches the same extraction about 7 times before turning to Natasha, “You would think, if they’d only had her captive in Hydra that she’d fight more like Bucky.”

Natasha can only blink dumbly and shrug, “I-I don’t know.”

Her weak answer falls on deaf ears as Tony continues to watch the video, focusing on a different part now. It’s silent once again for a while before he speaks, “Maybe when Bucky went down and trained you, she went along too.” He concludes thoughtfully, seemingly proud of his answer.

“Maybe.” Natasha nods.

Tony looks directly at her now, only just noticing her strangely short responses to all of his questions. But as she continues to translate the document in front of her for him, he just shrugs it off, figuring he probably pulled her out of her focus.

Yep. That was definitely the reason.

-

Steve and Bucky hadn’t come up with much. Only one document that had briefly mentioned a female as part of a possible serum test run but said female was only referred to as ‘The Girl’ and other than that had little to no physical descriptors on her appearance or identity.

They did however find other things of particular concern that they would maybe create seperate, unrelated missions for in the near future, so it’s not like their search was completely useless by the end of the night.

But after so many hours of reading what felt like the same group of words over and over, Bucky was glad to be finished for the night. He wasn’t sure where they would go on from there, what Tony had found (if he had found anything), but right now, all he hoped for was to sleep… and hopefully dream about the girl.

And luckily tonight, that’s exactly what he did.

“What’s the first thing you would do if you got out of here?” He asks her, paying no mind to the way her thumb comes up to rest in the indent of his chin. Warmth.

Were they cuddling?

“Burn the place down with everyone inside.” She says simply, softly biting her lip to refrain from smiling as Bucky softly laughs.

He didn’t know he was capable of such emotion… not in there.

He squeezes her shoulder tighter, whispering, “Then what?”

She thinks seriously now, a cute thinking face blessing his vision- again, he didn’t think anything so beautiful was possible to be seen in here.

“Maybe…” She hums quietly, music to his ears. “Maybe touch the grass.”

He just nods softly. Understandable. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen, let alone touch, grass- or any kind of nature for that matter. Unless, of course, concrete and metal counts.

But it’s not the exact answer he’s looking for.

“And then what?” He continues, “Where would you go? If you could go anywhere?”

“Home.” She answers, without a moments hesitation, “But considering they probably blew up my house, then…” She thinks to herself again, smiling softly as a memory fills her mind- one of very few that she’s managed to keep very close to her heart, “My mother took me to Romania a lot, we always stayed at NF Palace in Old City… I would go there. I’d ask to live there.” She explains, looking up at the miserable ceiling above their heads before resting her head back against his chest, “What about you?”

“Home.” He repeats her same answer, “America.”

“How would you get there?”

“Any way I can.” Flashes of Steve, the Commando’s, Rebecca flashed his mind and for a second, Bucky’s conscious mind worried this would turn into some sinister nightmare.

“Take me with you?” She asks softly, voice so small.

Bucky can’t help the heat that he feels upon his cheeks,“What about Romania?”

“Romania wouldn’t have you.” She just shrugs simply, before flashing a familiar smile up at him.

Warm.

Bucky wanted to die the moment he woke up at whatever ungodly hour he didn’t care to check. It was 4am.

He rubbed his eyes so hard he saw stars, almost trying to engrave the dream into his brain somehow. It all felt so real. Her touch, her laugh.

Sliding his hands down his face, he eyed the charging laptop on his bedside table before reaching for it and opening it up on his lap.

Immediate regret shot him in the face as the brightness of his screen blinded him. But he just squinted and carried on. Hurried fingers typed frantically into google, scared if he wasted even a second that he’d forget.

Google Search: NF Palace, Old City Bucharest

He had typed into the search bar, eyes scanning the result that Google had given him.

A 3.6 star hotel in Romania… ‘Permanently Closed.’

Bucky didn’t go back to sleep after his discovery. Surprise, surprise.

No, he’d stayed awake and paced all around his room before doing some more digging on the hotel. Permanently closed yet still standing. Abandoned. Still fully furnished.

He hardly waited for everyone to get settled into their day once it had hit a reasonable time for everyone to wake up. No, he had practically stood at Steve’s door until he came out of the shower and asked if he could call an emergency meeting with Tony.

Which, surprisingly, led to now. A disgruntled Tony and a worried Steve staring at Bucky as he holds his laptop.

“I think I know where she is.” He finally exhales, seemingly releasing a breath he had been bottling up ever since he woke up at 4am.

“What?” Tony yawns, rubbing his eyes as Bucky shoves the laptop in his unsuspecting hands.

“I think she’s here.”

Tony squints and blinks his eyes, adjusting to intrusion of blinding light before coming to his senses. Steve leans over to look as well.

“Romania?” He asks, looking up at Bucky.

Before he can respond, Tony asks tiredly and thoroughly confused, “How would she have gotten out of Sokovia?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky shrugs, “I just feel like she’s there.”

“How-“

“Another dream.” He quickly answers, a little frightened at the possibility that they don’t believe him, “I know it sounds crazy-“

“Okay.” Steve interrupts him, nodding, making Tony turn to him even more confused… it’s too early for this shit, “Okay, we’ll head out tomorrow morning.”

Though Tony was still very confused and… half asleep, he took Steve’s word for it. Anything to get back to bed.

Steve saw the desperation in his best friends eyes. He knew this was obviously important to him, saw how much it was eating away at him despite only being presented with the case two days ago.

Though he didn’t know why this was so important, what the girl had meant to him, or what he remembered, he knew he had to trust Bucky on this one.

-

True to Steve’s word, they had left first thing the next morning. The mission was labeled an emergency and Sam, Natasha and Clint were all called to join Steve, Tony and Bucky on the mission.

No one really complained at the sudden mission, it was nice to get out and travel once in a while and it’s not like they were entering dangerous and violent territory. If all goes to plan, this should be pretty easy. Get in, find the girl, get out.

The flight to Romania was pretty long but nothing they hadn’t dealt with before and it wasn’t long before they were landing in a safe house out in the open fields of countryside Romania.

It was night time when they’d landed so they had all unanimously agreed to begin the search first thing in the morning.

-

The rain was what awoke the team up from their deep slumbers- the jet lag quickly kicking in as their bodies and minds confused each other at the sudden change in time difference and temperature.

It was definitely much colder in Romania.

Doing their best not to look like a threat to the community, they had dressed in usual, winter attire with vests and weapons underneath.

The car that Tony hired coming in handy as they made their 40 minute drive into the city of Bucharest.

Despite the drowsy weather, the city still looked so beautiful.

Bucky had barely taken his eyes off from out the window, somewhat hoping he would miraculously spot the girl walking along the street.

It wasn’t until Tony had pulled up to the destination that Bucky felt the adrenaline kick in.

The front door of the abandoned hotel was dead bolted and chained up, boarded with wooden plans and rusty nails. So they opted for a back entrance.

Slowly and carefully, they each made their way inside the seemingly fragile building. Even from the inside they still felt the strong winds making its way from the outside and there were points in the ceiling where the rain slipped through.

Bucky’s heart picked up when he saw a bucket placed underneath a leak. Sign of life. Inhabitance.

“God, look at this place.” Tony whispered, eyeing the luxurious furniture that still inhabited the building despite its abandonment.

Golds and velvet reds, Persian rugs and chandeliers, painted ceilings of renaissance artwork.

Natasha’s sharp gasp made everyone whip around and reach for their guns, eyes following to where her gaze followed a small group of mice that scurried past her feet.

“Guests are a rowdy bunch.” Tony joked before moving forward.

Every further step they took without so much as a creak in the wood and the squeak of another mouse, Bucky lost an ounce of hope.

“Seems pretty empty.” Tony sighs, “If she was here, she would’ve heard us by now.” Voicing nearly everyone’s thoughts.

A soft, barely audible intake of breath was heard from behind them yet again and they all stopped and turned expectantly to Natasha… who only looked up at them all confused as she hadn’t said or done anything.

Steve flashed his torch behind them, momentarily lighting up the stunned face of a (seemingly) deer in the headlights.

It was Bucky’s turn to gasp now as his eyes landed upon a very familiar face.

Y/N.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

OMGGGGGGG dramaaaaaaaa eeee i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part of this and i’m so excited to continue writing the rest of this story!!

requested taglist: @catleen9 @impoeticbeauty

[atticuscortes]

"Get me a map, Levin. I'll put my money where my mouth is."

Atticus hadn't spent years living vicariously through Nora's travel stories to not be able to say with full confidence that she'd never stepped foot in Iowa. He wasn't even confident that she could point it out on a map.

Could he?

"Yeah? I don't know Scout, seems like you've been having plenty of fun without me." Before his face is taken hostage in her grip, Atticus nods towards the cup in her hand, clearly not her first (or last) of the night. He does gives into her command of his chin, allowing her to shake his head this way and that. "Clearly I've got some catching up to do." His eyes roll, but the rim of his cup doesn't hide his grin as he raises it for another sip.

The silence that falls between them is more than natural. Rare, usually, when it comes to the two of them, but comfortable all the same. Atticus's hand rest at Nora's waist, both a steadying presence and an instinct to keep her close, swaying gently to the residual music that'd made it's way up the stairs. He was acutely aware of all the places they were touching, hands on waists and arms around necks and his legs bracketing hers.

She looked beautiful tonight--every night, really, but being the center of attention suited Nora like nothing else. Had he told her that? Not just tonight, but ever? He must've. It wasn't the first time he'd ever thought it.

"About what?" He asked, tilting his head into her touch. Atticus's eyes roamed her face, as if just from whatever look he found hidden there, he could somehow glimpse into her mind and pull out the memory himself, though he doesn't have time to test this theory before she answers anyways. It takes all of three seconds for him to locate the memory in his own mind palace. The resulting snort is damn near involuntary.

"God, yeah--I remember you ditched me downstairs and weren't answering your fucking phone, and I was shitting bricks because I'd literally just decked Aiden in the face, like, the semester before, and I didn't know what he'd do if he caught my ass in his house." It was wild to think that barely two years after that, Atticus would be invited to stay in said house. "Found you though, didn't I?"

@noralevin

"You don't know where I've been," Nora shot back quickly, even though he pretty much did. Aside from the period of no-contact they'd respected in the aftermath of their breakup and her move to New York, she couldn't remember a time when she let more than a week go by without talking to Atticus. She certainly wouldn't have let a trip to Iowa and whatever drug- and/or alcohol-related story that went along with it go unmentioned.

She brought her drink back up to her lips and took a couple generous swallows; it was all going down like water at this point. Maybe turning twenty-nine should've given her reason to pause and think about scaling things back, but turning twenty-nine didn't make Nora any less Nora (and, for that matter, it didn't make Aiden any less Aiden), so here they were, at a house party fit for eighteen year olds, drinking like they could still bounce back from hangovers in the same way.

She scoffed, taking another (and this time smaller) sip. "I'm looking for you, Finchy. How am I expected to have any fun without you?" The arm around his neck moved so she could grab his chin and shake his head from side to side a little to punctuate the question. She eventually loosened her grip, but her hand found the side of his neck instead of its original place.

This all felt familiar, in a way that even the littlest things tended to every since she'd come back home. The same potholes in the road she'd been driving over since she turned sixteen, a billboard on the edge of town that had been bought out by the same small claims attorney, her mother's rose bushes, this party, standing on Aiden's balcony alone with Atticus.

Most of them were disquieting to her, a reminder that she'd come back to this place that had always seemed so incapable of change, but some of them were just...good. Standing in the eye of a storm with Atticus was good.

"God. I'm getting deja vu," she said, after a few beats too long spent just looking up at him. It'd started as an effort to focus hard on something to steady herself, but then she got distracted by the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Her thumb started in slow, unthinking circles below his jaw. "Didn't we do this senior year? Right after homecoming. I'd just pantsed the quarterback, so I came up here to hide."

@atticuscortes