#and i don't have the authority to say who belongs to which place but it really hurt doesn't it

[sungstars]

hit me up | mark lee x fem!reader

i.e you were only in your ex boyfriend's bed because he's the only one who could fuck you right. NOT because you missed him!

author's note: omg! sorry i disappeared for like a month LMAO. i was down bad and then i just didn't enjoy writing anymore, but here i am! i hope u all enjoy this! might not be my best work, but I'm happy with what I wrote! I hope you alll enjoy it very much! halloween may be over but kinktober is still happening in November! I'm crazy!!!! <3

word count: 4k (not proofread)

content warning: exes to possible lovers, explicit smut, unprotected sex(not a great idea), breeding kink, fingering (f. rec.), drinking, idols mentioned for world building. lmk if i miss anything!

this was a bad idea. how did you let your ex-boyfriend convince you to let him take you home and rearrange your entire organ system after not talking to him for nine months?

it's not like it too much convincing actually, but it's so much easier to blame mark's charisma and way with words than take responsibility for your own actions.

how were you supposed to know that he was going to the exact same club that you and your friends frequent almost every weekened?

well. . . you did know! you saw him post his location on his instagram story that you watched from your burner which lead to you asking your best friend, giselle, and her friends if they wanted to accompany you.

they agreed without a second thought, and you were all there within the hour in a vip section that belonged to a sexy brunette named jaehyun.

you vaguely knew who he was because he was friends with mark, but with how easy it was to convince him to let you and your friends in, you don't think he knew who you were or didn't honestly care.

about one patron shot and two margaritas later, you found the liquid courage to seek mark out.

he was sitting on the L shaped “sofa” that was in the section, a girl with long black hair and a sparkling pink dress in his lap.

her head was turned, hair falling over her face as she leaned in to whisper to mark.

a smile glazed over his features and he whispered something back, until his eye caught you.

like a deer caught in headlights, you couldn’t move. your eyes were glued onto him and he said something else to the girl, prompting her to get up and mark follow suit behind her.

however, instead of walking off together, she took her place back on the couch as mark began walking in your direction.

there was no escaping now, you knew it, so all you could do was stand there awkwardly, holding your arms across your chest until he was face to face with you.

“are my deceiving me?” he asked, voice rough as he glanced over your body, causing you to squirm under his eyes, “because if i’m not mistaken, this is my friend’s section, so what are you doing here?”

you could lie and say he invited you, which wasn't entirely untrue. one to giselle’s friends, soyeon, sweet talked jaehyun into getting into the section, and by extension he told her to bring the rest of his friends.

“one of my friends got on with him pretty well,” you said, clearly your throat, looking everywhere but mark, “plus, this is my spot and you know it. you know how frequent i come here, so if anything, what are you doing here?”

“placing claims on public property?” mark chuckled, leaning against the railing of the section, “i guess you’ve got me there though. guess i was just hoping i would run into you one day and get on my knees to beg for you.”

you let out a noise of disgust, rolling your eyes, but still staying in your exactly spot, “you are so wretched. grow up and move on.”

“trust me,” he smiled devilishly, “i have. you saw me over there cozying up with kazhua. the way you were looking at me, one would assume you haven’t moved on.”

“conversation over.” you said bitterly, uncrossing your arms and walking away, but in typical mark fashion, he was right behind you.

you were annoyed beyond belief right now, annoyed that he had the audacity to make jokes about seeing other people and you being caught up on him. . . annoyed at how good he looked, and annoyed that you wanted to keep talking to him.

“i was just kidding,” his hand reached out to grab your arm, “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“look at you,” you mockingly cooed, “finally apologizing for your actions. i guess time apart does allow for growth.”

mark’s eye twitched ever so slightly, but of course, you caught it, “guess the same isn’t for you, still bitchy as ever. i remember how i used to solve that problem, a good dicking down and you were an angel to be around.”

“well, too bad you can’t fix that,” you shrugged, “lost that privilege nine months ago when you broke up with me, if you forgot.”

he tsk’d, dropping his hand from your body and your brain or your cunt wanted to yell at the loss of contact, “has anybody been taking care of that?”

“not that it’s any of your business,” you bit out, wanting nothing to do but lie, “no.”

a smirk grew on mark’s lips, opening his mouth to make some sort of smart ass comment you were sure, but closed it.

“thinking before we speak now, wow you really have grown.”

mark rolled his eyes at you, “i was going to say, let me fix this issue so you’ll be nice to whatever poor boy comes across your path soon.”

what the fuck. your face flushed dark red, and thank god that the lights were down low otherwise you were sure that mark would’ve laughed, “are you propositioning me?”

“not at all,” he said, leaning down to ghost his lips over yours, “it’s yours if you want it, if not, i will go about my business and you can go about yours.”

“okay,” you swallowed, curling your toes in your tennis shoes out of nervousness, “yeah. fuck me an inch of my life to make me nice again.”

“no thought about it, i knew you missed me.”

you almost retracted your statement, but instead pulled your phone of your pocket and texting giselle a heads up that you were leaving and not to wait up.

mark grabbed your hand, leading you down the stairs of the section and through the crowd of the club to the entrance.

the cool september air hit your face, a chill running down your body as you stood on the sidewalk with mark, hand in hand.

it felt too couple like, you wanted throw up, but instead just pulled your hand away from his quickly.

if mark noticed, he didn’t say anything. opting to look at his phone and order the uber back to his apartment.

was it just going to be dead silent this entire night? god, you weren’t sure what was going to be worse. this or having to hold small and awkward conversation with him.

“you look cold,” mark commented, not looking up from his phone, “come here.”

you looked at him, appalled and decided to not acknowledge his words, instead turning back to the street.

“you don’t always have to be so damn bratty,” he groaned, walking over to you and throwing his now discarded denim jacket at you, “put it on, and don’t make me repeat myself.”

fuck, he was so hot when he was demanding, even if it’s just to tell you something as simple to put a jacket on. the heat between your legs began to radiate, you did miss this part of him,

he watched you with an annoyed look until you complied, sliding the sleeves over your arms and adjusting the jacket comfortable. it smelled just like him, and you wanted to moan.

mark always smelled so good, it’s— was one of your favorite things about him. he was always so clean and put together, putting extra care into his appearance.

when the two of you first started dating all the way until your . . . interesting break up, he always went the extra mile to show out for you,

you sort of missed that about him too.

“uber’s here,” mark said, breaking your out of your train of thought about, well him, and opening the door for the car.

you slid in to the other side, mark following behind and sliding his seatbelt on.

mark said nothing about how far you were, and opted to just take his seatbelt off and move into the middle before readjusting.

“sitting so far when i’m about to fuck the daylights out of, you’re too modest,” he whispered, hand resting against your thigh, slowly creeping in between them, “what’s on your mind pretty?

“nothing,” you lied. you is what you wanted to say, but mark doesn’t need an unnecessary ego boost, and you don’t need any comments about how he plagues your mind.

mark hummed in response, leaning back against the seat even more and spreading his legs slightly.

you looked out of your periphial to glance at his thighs, god how toned they were.

you miss how he would wear jeans and let you grind against him with your bare cunt. fuck, it made you want to cum in your panties just thinking about it.

mark cleared his throat, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and look at him.

a smirk played upon his lips as his hand came to pull you in by your neck, "couldn't be more obvious with your staring. i'd ask you to share your thoughts, but i already know what was going through your dirty little mind."

biting your bottom lip, you tried to feign innocence despite knowing it wouldn't work-- you were already caught.

"don't know what you mean," untangling yourself from his grip, you rested your head against the window and watched the city as you drove by, "let's keep our hands to ourselves for the rest of the ride."

mark didn't say anything, opting to rest his elbow on your lab and head against the seat for the remainder of the uber.

it felt like the longest seven minutes of your life before the car came to a complete stop in front of his apartment building.

after giving the uber driver a thank you and closing the door, mark led you inside his building that you remembered all too well. you waited at the elevator, nerves building up to create an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

this was all. . . so familiar. it was unsettling, remembering all the things you would return here with marka fter a night out. or how he would wait at the elevator for you when you had one of your girls nights with giselle.

you really missed him, is what you realized. if this fucking elevator could hurry up, that would make things so much easier for you to get up there and fuck him so you can be on your merry way.

the 'ding' of the elevator snapped you out of your trip down memory lane, mark grabbing your hand and pulling you in.

his arm wrapped around your waist as he pressed the button for floor six. fingers gently drumming against your ribcage as the elevator went floor by floor until it reached his.

he let you step out first, before leading you down the hallway back to his door. as if you could ever forget where he stayed. apartment 665, always making a joke about how he should move over one more to make it 666.

he was awfully quiet, you noticed. you weren't sure why though, it was a bit unlike mark to be this silent for this long.

you decided to shrug it off as he unlocked the door and you stepped into the threshold of his apartment.

nothing looked different from the last time you've been here, it's like time stood still while you were absent from his life.

"it's not too late to change your mind," mark finally said, looking at you as he placed his keys on his coffee table, "we can just go to bed and you can leave in the morning."

you tilted your head, looking at him in confusion, "what happened to wanting to fuck me to make me nice for the next boy?"

mark shrugged his jacket off, putting it on his coat rack as he pulled you between his thighs, "i just want to make sure you want this as much as i do."

studying his features, you looked at his plush lips that you would spend hours kissing, oh how you missed his kisses.

instead of saying anything else, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips against his. mark wasted no time in kissing you back, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he relished in this moment.

gently biting the bottom of your lip, his fingers dug slightly into your skin as you slowly began to escalate the kiss.

his tongue slid into your mouth, pressing you closer into him which allows for you to feel his defined chest under his white t-shirt.

mark's hands rubbed up and down your sides as the two of you made up, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants and allowing for them to stroke your hipbone.

plush lips beginning to kiss across your cheek and down your check, licking and biting little love bites into your skin. you probably should’ve told mark not to do that, but fuck, you missed how he felt on your skin.

your hands began to wonder, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt before sliding under and pressing your fingers against his toned stomach.

mark began pulling up your own shirt, breaking his lips away from your neck to pull it over your head.

he used this chance to sit on the couch and pull you on top of his lap, pushing his hips up so you could feel his growing erection.

skilled hands toyed with the back of your bra, unhooking it with ease and leaning back while you slid it down your arms.

you feel a little nervous the way he’s staring at your boobs, his eyes lingering over piece of skin almost.

maybe you should say something, tease him, but also you’re not sure what he’s thinking. it makes you feel a bit self conscious to be honest.

his hands come up to grab them, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples to harden them before he slowly pinches them to elicit a small noise from you.

“i missed these,” he mumbled, bringing his lips to one of your now perky nipples, “they’re so perfect. so so soft.”

mark once again didnt give you the opportunity to say anything in return, but rather another pretty moan to escape your lips when he sucked your nipple into his mouth.

one of you hands played with the nape of his hair as you pressed your hips down into his. he was so hard beneath you, you couldn’t help but want to grind on him.

a groan escaped him as he continued sucking on your tit, teeth gently grazing it as you moved your hips in a slow, torturous manner.

mark pulled off your boob, quickly going to the other one as his hands firmly gripped your ass to help you move against him.

periodically, he would squeeze your ass roughly causing you high pitched squeal to leave you.

“mark~” you cooed, pulling the ends of his hair roughly to make him look up at you, “please give me more, please. wanna feel it against my pussy, please?”

the brunette’s eyes rolled back when you pulled on his strands, pushing you back against the cushions of the couch as he unbuttoned his jeans hurriedly and pushing them down his thighs.

he kicked the rough material off, pulling his boxers down enough for his heard cock to slap against his stomach.

mark's fingers grabbed the hem of your pants, pulling them down your thighs with care compared to how he undressed himself. his eyes found yours and offered a kind smile as he peeled the fabric off and throwing them on the floor.

"you're so pretty," he mumbled, caressing your thigh before moving himself comfortably in between your legs, "i've missed this so so much."

there was so unspoken between the two of you, but that wasn’t a topic for now.

mark gently pulled your panties down, a small noise escaping his mouth at your pussy that was glistening with arousal.

your cheeks flushed an embarrassing flush as mark continued to pull them down your legs before tossing them into the pile with your other belongings.

"it's been so long," mark whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips before leaning back up, "please let me fuck you."

with how turned on you were, you doubted that you needed any prep from mark. however, you didn't wanna give in right away to him. he had to beg for it a little longer, doesn't he?

"not yet," you smiled evilly up at him, your hand wrapping around the base of his dick as you rubbed the thick head of his cock against your clit.

mark whimpered at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as you continued to rub his cock against you.

your eyes focused on his dick though, watching as a string of your wetness connected to his tip. you slapped the tip against your pussy a few more times.

biting your lip to suppress a moan, you pushed his cock down to catch on your entrance, watching to see his next move.

mark's eyes were still shut, but he pushed his hips forward to push his cock further into you.

the stretch made you hiss, back arching off the couch as he continued to sink his dick into you.

"fuck," he cursed, his hands coming down to grip your hips, "you're so fuckin' tight, baby."

mark leaned down, kissing your neck and sucking hickeys into your skin as he found a good rhythm, "forgot how good this pussy was."

your fingers dug into his sides, pussy clenching around his dick as he fucked you like he used to, "fuck mark, I missed this. missed you."

his lips continued to travel down your neck, biting down into the skin as he fucked you. whimpers and high pitched moans escaping the two of you.

"fmm, baby," he whispered, biting the shell of your ear softly, "this pussy is so tight for me."

you moaned at his remark, pushing your hips against his to fuck yourself on his dick. his cock was the only thing that could genuinely make you go stupid, no coherent thoughts forming in your mind as he continued to fuck you.

mark whispered sweet praises into your ears, hands moving to push your legs up slightly to fuck you at a deeper angle. your hole fluttered around his dick, your orgasm approaching at any moment with this new angle.

your mind was moving so fast, nothing but mark overtaking your senses and brain as he moved his hips into you.

you could tell he was close when his movements began to falter, thrusts becoming sloppy and faster as he chased his own high.

"please," he whined, looking down at you with doe eyes, "please let me come in you, please let me breed this pussy. please mommy, p-please?"

fuck, you forgot what mark calling your mommy did to you. you nodded your head, still unable to formulate any words as your orgasm took over you.

your toes curling so hard you thought they would break and back arching so deep, that you almost felt relief from the aches you would feel at night.

you nodded weakly, his hands digging his fingers into your skin once more as he released inside of you.

his moans and whines turning into pants of desperation as he came down from the high.

the overstimulation took over your quickly, your hand pushing at mark's abdomen to force him out of you with a wet noise.

"fuck," you exhaled deeply, "why didn't you fuck me like that when we were together?"

mark rolled his eyes, fingers coming to pinch your nipple harshly, "I see somebody still has that fuckin' attitude."

a devilish smile creeped upon your lips, "second time is always the charm, Markie."

"if this is your way of asking me to take you back, I humbly accept."

you scoffed, pushing him away from you further, "you fuckin' wish."

"no baby," he replied, "you'll wish after i finish fucking this bitchy attitude out of you."

"go for it," you bit back, he really knew how to work your nerves!

"give me like. . 15 minutes and I will!" mark winked.

you were in for some shit tonight!

end!

[iftitah]

she's talking on a call with her parents about how it was her luck and gods will what got her into this college who's gonna tell her of course no one because you know 🤡🤡

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

[sluts4matt]

okay, i feel like this could be crazy? please take this any direction you want. like reader is at a party (like tara’s party) and her and chris get in a fight over a photo that was posted during the party. this has been on the mind, and im just not the correct person to execute this idea. but please take this any direction and change anything, please and thank you! i love your work please keep posting 🫶🏻

JEALOUS

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: a picture of you a little to close to another guy at tara's 1 milli party is posted on the internet. chris does NOT like that at all and has to teach you a lesson.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, spanking, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, light bondage, blindfolding, choking, orgasm denial, pet names, slight dumbification (because i love it so much ), light fluff at the end

word count: 1652

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @lovelysturniolos i HAD to feed into everyone saying chris and tara would look cute, i'm sorry, sue me. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

"what the fuck is this?" your boyfriend, chris, asks holding his phone to you. his tone wasn't an amused one which was very unlike him. "what?" you mumble, furrowing your eyebrows as you bring yourself closer to his phone.

the two of you had the house to yourself for the evening, and currently sat on the couch in the living room. you looked at the picture, you were wearing your sparkly black dress, the fabric hugging you just right.

you hand was placed on some guys arm. why? you were absolutely hammered and ended up trying to make chris jealous out of your own jealousy. he had been close to tara almost all night, and while his attention was on you, part of you seemed to think he'd rather pay it to her.

you and chris had ended up losing each other within two hours of being there. but when you found him, and he was talking to tara with tha big ass grin of his. the one he always gives you. you couldn't stand it.your hand immediately found the guy nearest you, batting your eyelashes at him while you giggled at the jokes he told.

all in hopes that chris would look over and see, but he never did.

guess a picture was taken though, so you'd still technically be getting what you want. "who the fuck is that guy? huh?" chris demands. "honestly chris? couldn't tell you," you shrug. "but it was someone who was nice to me while my boyfriend was off with another chick," you mumble the last bit, but chris catches it.

the dry chuckle that leaves his mouth sends shivers down your spine, and the way he was staring at you made your stomach feel tight. "i don't give a fuck about tara," he says.

"really? coulda fooled me," you retort. chris' jaw clenched, and he stood up from the couch, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you off the couch.

"where are we going?" you ask as you try to keep up with his large strides. "i'm gonna fuck some sense into you," he states. "and then, we're going to have a little chat about who the fuck you belong to," he tells you, opening the door to his (your shared) bedroom and shoving you inside.

"chris-" "strip," he says, cutting you off. his voice was stern, and left no room for arguments. he walked over to the closet, grabbing the silk ties and blindfolds that sat in a box on the top shelf. you stripped your clothes, watching chris as he got into the box.

"hands behind your back," he commands, walking over to you. "chris-" "shut the fuck up," he snaps. "unless you're gonna say the safeword, please, shut the fuck up," he repeats. you nod your head.

he places the tie over your eyes, and brings your hands behind your back, tying them together. "get on the bed," he tells you, smacking your ass as you walk towards the bed.

you climb onto the bed, sitting in the middle of the mattress. "chris, i-" you're cut off by chris' hand covering your mouth. "if you're gonna be using that mouth, it's gonna be for something useful ma," he tells you. "so, either stop talking, or put that fucking mouth to work," he says.

you nod your head, and chris removes his hand from your mouth. "yes daddy," you mumble. "what was that baby?" he asks, knowing he heard you. "yes daddy," you speak up, earning a satisfied hum from chris.

"that's more like it," he says, taking his shirt off, and kicking his sweats and boxers off. he grabs a pillow from the head of the bed, and puts it under your knees.

"open your mouth," he tells you. and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. chris grabs the base of his cock and guides it into your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around the tip, kitty licking it. chris grabs the back of your head, and pushes himself into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. "fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good ma," he says, moving his hips and thrusting into your mouth.

he pulls himself out, and smacks your face with his cock a few times. he rubs his tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them. "such a pretty fucking face," he muses, shoving his cock back into your mouth.

he groans as you take him back in, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. "fucking choke on it baby," he groans, pushing your head further down until his cock hit the back of your throat, over and over again.

you gag on his dick, tears beginning to leak from your eyes, dampening the fabric of the blindfold. saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth.

"fuck, i'm close," he moans. you move your head faster, bobbing your head, gagging and choking on his cock. "shit baby, that's it. gonna cum down that pretty fucking throat," he moans.

he pushes your head down again, and holds you there, letting his cum paint the inside of your throat. "fuck, fuck," he breathes, his chest heaving. he wraps your head in a makeshift ponytail around his hand tugging your head back.

he admires the way the black blindfold contrasts against your tan skin, "so pretty baby, too bad you thought you had to make me jealous to get my fucking attention." he says.

he takes his cock from your mouth and wipes the remaining saliva and cum off on your cheek. "now, i'm gonna fuck some sense into you, and after that, we're gonna talk about why it is you're my fucking girl," he says, pulling you up and positioning you how he wants.

his favorite position had your ass up in the air and your cheek pressed against the mattress. he rubbed your right ass cheek before raising his hand and landing a hard smack down on it. the sound echoed in the room, and the stinging sensation had you moaning because of the pain and pleasure.

"this ass, mine," he says, landing a few more harsh slaps down. "this pussy, mine," he continues, sliding his cock between your folds and pressing the tip at your entrance. "mhm, fuck," you gasp, as chris pushes himself into your cunt.

his right hand finds its way in-between your shoulder blades, shoving you down further as his left hand has a steady grip on your hip. his hips smack against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, accompanied by his groans and grunts and your loud moans. "i wanna hear how good my cock is," chris tells you.

"fuck daddy, so big. feels so fucking good," you moan, gripping the silk fabric tied around your wrists. "so fucking tight, ma," he says, his right hand sliding down to grab the fabric tied around your wrists.

he tugs your body back, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, causing your breath to catch in your throat. his hips move a million miles an hour, chasing his release, choked whines left your mouth that had you gasping for air, drool running down your chin.

"so fucking pathetic, look at ya," he chuckles, watching as you come undone underneath him. "such a whiny bitch, can't even speak." he tugs on the tie again, pulling you up. his left hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly.

"gonna cum daddy," you babble, your high approaching. "no you're not," chris says, denying you of your orgasm. he pushes you back down, pounding into you with no mercy, "chris," you whine. "wanna act like a slut to get my attention, gonna get treated and used like one."

"fuck daddy," you whine, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter. "chris, please, need to cum," you beg. he moves his left hand up to grip the hair at the base of your skull, "don't you fucking dare," he threatens.

"gotta earn it baby," he tells you. "how do you earn daddy's permission?" he asks.

"please," you moan, unable to think of anything else to say. "not what i'm looking for," he says, bringing his hand down on your ass, leaving a red handprint on your skin. "fuck," you hiss. "daddy," you cry. "please, please, fuck," you beg.

"that's more like it," he grunts. he leans over your body, his left hand reaching up to hold the headboard while his right stays in the same place.

"go on then, cum on my cock," he whispers, biting down on your earlobe, tugging on it. his words send you over the edge, and you come undone underneath him. your pussy spasms around his cock, squeezing and clenching, milking his orgasm from him.

he fills your cunt up, coating your walls white. his thrusts become slower, and the grip he has on your body is softer, until he stops altogether, and pulls out of you.

"good girl," he praises, running his thumb along your entrance, catching the mixture of both of your orgasms and bringing it to his mouth. he sucks the digit clean, humming at the taste.

he lays down next to you, pulling you into him, "now, who do i belong too?" he asks, holding you close. "me," you answer. "mm, and who do you belong too?" he asks, kissing your head. "you," you reply, leaning up to kiss him.

"good girl," he hums, placing a kiss on your nose. "want me to doordash panda express princess?" he asks, nuzzling his face into the conjunction of your jaw and neck. he peppered small kisses making you giggle. "nap first," you tell him.

he nods his head, grabbing the blanket and draping it over the both of you. he presses a final kiss to your temple, whispering, "i love you baby," before the two of you drift off.

tag list:

@sturnioloa @junnniiieee07

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Three.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky get closer. Your choice only gets harder.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au.

Word Count - 6.4k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Author's Note - angels, i can only apologise for the wait!! i've had some stuff going on, and i was on vacation, so this has taken a while. thank you so much for your patience, kindness and support on Honey Girl - it means everything.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! i will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sunlight seeps through the stained glass windows, murmured chatter echoing off the stone walls around you.

You smooth down your dress and adjust your bracelet, smiling at the rare sight of your family and friends all gathered together in one place. Your parents are sat on either side of you, all of you eagerly awaiting the beginning of this exciting occasion.

Man, you love weddings. You always have. So much happiness and joy in one short day, everyone excited about the possibility of eternal love.

You're still sat waiting when you realise, with quiet uncertainty, that you're not sure whose wedding this is. All of your family is here, as well as many of your friends. So why do you feel so confused all of a sudden?

The Priest gestures for all of the guests to stand just as the first notes of the Wedding March begin to reverberate around the room. You turn around, craning your neck to try and get a glimpse of the bride.

You don't know her, but she's... beautiful. Long, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, white silk dress hugging her frame perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve. She has kind eyes, warm and brown, and a blinding smile that's infectious and dazzling. Her skin glows in the stained glass sunlight, illuminating her in an ethereal radiance. She has a beauty that belongs on the cover of a magazine, or on the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel.

You eagerly turn back towards the altar to find out who her lucky groom is. He has his back to you, dark suit stretched across his broad shoulders. He turns, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips.

It's Bucky.

You're panicking, suddenly. You want to scream, shout, run over to them and object in any way possible. Your Mom grabs your hand tightly from one side, as your Dad does the same on the other.

"Mama, I have to-"

"You can't, sweetheart. It's not fair."

"You made your choice," your Dad says kindly, not an ounce of malice in his voice. "Now you have to let him make his."

White hot tears drip down your cheeks as your chest rises and falls with frantic frustration. This isn't how you wanted things to go. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The lights in the church are suddenly too bright, the wooden pews too hard. There's an incessant knocking noise coming from somewhere in front of you, loud and overwhelming. You swear someone's shouting your name in the distance, among all of the chaos.

"Honey? It's Bucky. Are you okay?"

Why is he asking if you're okay? Of course you're not okay, you're in this living nightmare.

Nightmare.

You're having a nightmare.

You wake with a startled gasp, cheeks wet and warm, sweat dripping down your back. The knocking hasn't stopped, in fact, now it's even louder.

"Sugar? Are you in there? Can you let me in?"

It's Bucky. Bucky's here.

You throw yourself out of bed and race through your apartment, swinging open the door. Bucky is stood on the other side, still in his navy plaid pyjama pants, sweater thrown over himself haphazardly. You look down at yourself and see that you're only wearing an old t shirt, legs bare and feet cold on the wooden floor.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, stepping forward into your space. "I had this horrible feeling. It was like... like I was panicking. I knew it wasn't me so I figured it must have been you. What's wrong, sweets?"

He snakes his fingers around your wrist and pulls you into him gently, wrapping his arms around you completely. You relax into his embrace, inhaling the warm, cosy scent of him. All the fear leaves your body, and you cling to him tighter, worried that he'll disappear any minute.

"I had a nightmare," you whisper into the soft cotton of his chest.

He pulls back to look at you, large, calloused hands cradling your tear stained cheeks.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You deliberate for a second before shaking your head softly.

"If you change your mind, you know I'll always listen to you. Any time. I mean it."

"I know," you say quietly. "Thank you."

You step away from him and towards the couch, where you curl up with your legs tucked underneath you. Bucky walks over to the kitchen, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove. He makes two mugs of tea, handing one into your outstretched hands carefully. He shuffles to sit next to you, pressed into your side, arm slung around your shoulders. You relax into the broadness of him, the comfort he brings, the safety. The two of you fall asleep intertwined, warm and content, wrapped completely in each other and the blanket of your love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're both startled awake by a phone ringing. The unwelcome melody is coming from somewhere between where you're nestled together, limbs intertwined and bodies connected.

"It's-fuck- is that mine or yours?" Bucky's mumbling as he scrambles amongst the couch cushions.

"Yours, I think," you reply, finding your phone on the floor where you've kicked it in your sleep.

Bucky finally finds the source of the noise, trapped in the arm of the couch. He presses the green button reluctantly, still disorientated from being woken so suddenly.

"Hello?"

That deep, raspy grumble of his morning voice is enough to make you melt back into your original position, the tone golden and honeyed. You slide back towards him and tuck yourself into his side, the two of you fitting together perfectly.

You can hear muffled talking on the other end, which takes Bucky a minute to comprehend. When he does, his eyes widen, and he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

It's your Dad, he mouths silently, muscles in his body going rigid.

Fuck, you mouth back, praying that he can't hear the two sets of heaving lungs on your side of the line.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there. Sounds good, man. See you then."

Bucky's about to hang up the phone, when your Dad makes a noise of complaint. You can hear your Mom yelling something at him in the background.

"They're coming here," he whispers to you as quietly as possible, covering the phone speaker. "Fuck, what do we do?"

"Tell them you're already here... borrowing something. Or giving something back."

You shoot him a look that says trust me. Trust you, he does.

"I'm with her right now. I can ask, if you want? Yeah, just dropping off a couple of tools - last time I saw her, she mentioned a few loose screws in one of the kitchen cabinets. Easy fix."

You can hear your Dad singing his praises and expressing his gratitude, and your Mom asking Bucky to put you on the phone. He passes it to you carefully, as if it's a bomb, bound to explode at any given second.

"Hi, Mama."

"Hey, sweetheart. Bucky get everything sorted for you?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been great. Fixed it in two minutes flat. I just didn't have the right kind of screwdriver."

"He's one of the good ones, huh?" she chuckles. "We called to tell you that you have to come to our get together later. I know it's a little impromptu, but we have so much produce from the garden, too much for just us. We'll have dinner in the backyard, and drinks, and play some games. And we'll tell you all about the wedding!"

Your Mother has a gift for hosting. She's a people person through and through, warm hearted and kind spirited in nature. She loves having people over at the house, loves cooking for them, loves choosing wine pairings for her dishes and explaining each one carefully. It's a gift. She's a gift.

"I'd love to come, Mama. Do you want me to bring anything? I can make desserts?"

"Oh, darling, would you? I'm making a strawberry and cream tart, but you know it's nothing compared to your talent."

"Oh hush," you chide playfully. "I'll see what I can conjure up. Maybe I'll even rope Bucky in to help."

You wink at him cheekily and he laughs, the sound settling gently in your ribs like a caged bird singing it's morning song.

"Glad to be of service!" he yells into the phone, his right hand moving to rest at the nape of your neck. He massages the muscle there gently, and the tension leaves your body just as quick as it arrived.

"What time, Mama?"

"Everyone's arriving at seven o'clock, but you and Bucky feel free to come any time. Did you hear that, Bucky? Any time!"

"Loud and clear," he chuckles. "See you soon, Lori."

"Bye, you two. Call if you need anything. Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too."

She hangs up the phone and you're plunged into silence, the two of you panting like you've just ran a marathon.

"Fuck," Bucky breathes.

"Yeah, fuck," you exhale. "Now my parents think I'm not capable of fixing a loose screw."

"It was the first thing I thought of! Sorry, honey. Didn't mean to undermine your DIY skills."

You fake angry, but you can't keep it up while he's looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. The corners of your lips twitch, and before you know it, you're grinning at each other like idiots.

"Now I have to make dessert," you laugh. "There go my plans for the day."

"You offered."

"I panicked!"

"I'll give you a hand, if you need it. I don't have to be at work for another hour and a half."

"It's okay," you reassure, reaching out to link your fingers with his. He's still absentmindedly tracing patterns across the back of your neck, the sensation almost soothing you back to sleep.

You relax into Bucky, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He's so warm, and soft, and broad. You realise that there's been two occasions recently where you've slept like the dead. Both were in Bucky's arms.

"You wanna help me make breakfast?" you whisper, careful not to disrupt the golden glow of the morning sunlight. The orange hue of the room feels fragile, sacred even. You don't want to ruin it.

"Of course. I can't bake, but I can cook. I have my uses."

"That, you do," you tease, leaning back into him as he places a tender kiss on top of your head. If you could bottle up this feeling of complete tranquility, you would. For a moment, everything else disappears. It's just you and your soulmate. Nothing else matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, as it turns out, is a decent chef.

Sure, he's not Michelin star level, but neither are you.

You're sat on the counter, bare legs dangling over the side as you watch him move around your kitchen with ease, as if it's his own. You can't help but notice the way he belongs here. Like he's been here all along.

Bucky leaves everything cooking on the stove to come to stand in between your legs, warm hands splayed across your thighs. He rubs comforting circles into your skin while his steely blue eyes look at you intently.

"You okay?"

You smile at him softly, draping your arms around his neck to play with his hair.

"I'm fine."

You're not fine. The words California and Bakery and Dream Job and Bucky keep circling around your mind like horses on a fairground carousel. The more time you spend with Bucky, the more your Tethering makes sense. The two of you work. This connection you have is made of threads of gold, braided into both of your souls.

"You've been quiet all morning. And... I can feel it, you know. This anxious, sinking feeling, deep in my chest. There's something really bothering you, honey."

You take a deep breath and grasp onto his shoulders tightly, grounding yourself back down to Earth.

"I'm okay. There's just a couple of things I need to work out, and I think they're giving me some anxiety. I'm just stressed, I think."

"Are you trying to convince yourself, or me? Because you're not doing a very good job of either."

He's only teasing, but the way he's looking at you makes your breath hitch. It's as if everytime he looks into your eyes, he's also looking into your soul. It's like he can read your mind. Your heart is covered in braille and he's running his fingertips over it gently. You suddenly feel very exposed, shrinking down into yourself on the counter.

"Hey, pretty girl. Look at me. Please."

He uses his finger and thumb to tilt your face towards him, holding onto your chin gently.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to push you, or anything. I'm just worried. It's weird, being able to feel what you feel. I think I'm still getting used to it."

You smile at him carefully, running your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks.

"I appreciate you looking out for me, Buck. It's just... overwhelming, I guess. Nothing's a secret between me and you anymore."

You both know that's not true.

"You know, if there's anyone who understands how you feel... it's me."

"You're right," you laugh, "on account of the whole half-of-my-soul thing, I guess."

"Exactly. It's scary, but you're not alone in this. The two of us will figure it out. I know we will."

He has so much faith in you it makes you want to cry.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, firm and reassuring. It's like he's reminding you that he's right here, in front of you. He's not going anywhere.

You might be, though.

"We've got all the time in the world, remember?" he murmurs against your mouth.

"All the time in the world," you echo, tucking your head into his chest.

He holds you close until your breakfast starts to burn. The impending fire on the stove is nothing compared to the impending fire that feels like your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you eat on your balcony, tangled together on the love seat chair. The sun is beating down, beams of light illuminating Bucky, setting him aglow. He looks like an angel, the golden hue creating a halo around him. You wonder for a second if he is. An angel sent just for you.

"Oh hey, did I tell you?" he asks, turning as much as he can in his spot to face you.

"Tell me what?"

"Leonie and Eli are having a baby."

"No way!" you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his hands in excitement. "I'm so happy for them. Man, it feels like yesterday that they found each other."

"Right? Hell of a story, too."

"Rough one, though. I mean, imagine it. You introduce your brother to your new girlfriend, and turns out they're soulmates."

Bucky's laughing so hard that he's clutching at his stomach, shaking the chair and you along with it.

"That's fucked," he wheezes. "It's so fucked."

You can't contain your own laughter, not when his is so contagious.

"It's not funny," you breathe, but you're giggling so hard your sides hurt.

"Not funny at all," he chuckles, pinching your thigh.

"If you think about it, our Tethering is a little fucked up too. I mean, you're my Dad's best friend."

"Yeah... not ideal, huh?" he teases, still laughing.

"Not ideal at all, really," you agree playfully.

You sit in the quiet for a moment before you speak again.

"What do you think they'll say? When we tell them, eventually?"

Bucky thinks for a moment, cogs turning in his brain. He considers carefully before he answers you.

"...I think they'll be happy for us. Your Mom'll be excited. It might be a little harder for your Dad to navigate, I guess, but... he'll be okay."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

The rational part of your brain is telling you that he is. They'll be ecstatic that the two of you have found your person. The celebrations will be endless.

But there's a tiny, nagging piece of your mind that won't let you rest. It's taunting you, telling you that they're going to be confused, shocked, upset. That they won't accept the two of you. You can't lose them over a soulmate. You won't.

You clear your throat and stand from your spot, picking up your empty plates.

"Don't you have to be at work soon? I doubt you can show up in pajamas."

"I'm the boss, pretty girl. I can wear whatever the hell I want."

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he relents.

"Fine. I need to change. But I'll see you later? At your Mom's?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you there."

You walk Bucky to the door, opening it expectantly. He looks at you for a moment too long, still unconvinced by your reassurances from earlier.

"If you need anything, just call me. You know you can talk to me anytime, yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirm, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his t shirt. "I know, Buck. Thanks."

He leans in to kiss your forehead before leaving you in the doorway, more confused than ever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You commit your day to baking your feelings away.

As soon as Bucky left your apartment, the space felt empty, incomplete. Much like you do. As much as you hate to admit it, you feel better when Bucky is around. You know it's the whole Tethering thing, but still. Your heart feels fuller, the world seems brighter, the sun on your skin is warmer. Everything's easier when your soulmate is next to you.

You click on the radio, a soft, jazzy melody filling your kitchen. You begin to measure your ingredients, picking up bowls, utensils and your piping bags as you go.

This is the only thing you've ever felt like you were made to do. Sure, you've had hobbies as you've grown up. You're a good swimmer, you enjoyed soccer, you weren't too bad at dance. But nothing compared to baking.

Which at first, sounded ridiculous. Grown ups would ask you what you wanted to be when you were older, and when you said Baker, they'd laugh in that patronising way that adults do. It didn't stop you, though.

Your Grandma bought you a half empty recipe book for your tenth birthday. You can create your own and add them, she'd said. You'll be publishing a book with your name on in no time.

Your parents took you on a European vacation when you were sixteen. In Amsterdam, you passed this tiny little bakery, tucked away down a back street. It was red brick with a big window in the front, showcasing the cakes and endless sweet treats they had to offer. When you peered through the glass, you watched as the woman who you assumed was the owner went about her day. She looked so happy to be serving her customers. You decided then and there that was going to be you one day. A Bakery of your own. A happy life.

Which is why you're having such a hard time. You haven't talked to Stella since she called you, and you're worried she's going to change her mind if she doesn't hear from you soon. You haven't talked to Bucky about it either, even though he presented you with opportunity after opportunity this morning. It's starting to feel like the walls are caving in.

So, you do what you do best. Bake.

The day passes by quicker than anticipated, lost in a cloud of cinnamon and powdered sugar. You're wiping down your counters when your phone rings, Bucky's name lighting up your screen.

"Hi, Buck."

"Hey, pretty baby. You want me to pick you up later? I'm passing your place anyway."

He's always thinking of you so selflessly. The thought makes your heart stutter for a moment.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Course not. I can drop by at six? Gives us enough time to help your Mom set up."

"Sounds perfect. Thanks, Buck."

"See you then, honey."

You hang up the phone and realise the hours have completely escaped you. You jump in the shower and do your hair and makeup in record time, miraculously. You're stood in a towel in front of your closet when you feel Bucky pull up outside. The tension in your chest eases a little, and you take a deep, full breath. He knocks on the door, and you completely relax.

"Hey, you," he greets, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

You take a step back to look at him, and almost lose your balance. He looks ridiculously handsome. He's wearing a dark short sleeve button up that hugs his biceps so tightly, you're worried it might burst open. His jeans cling to his thighs deliciously, and the leather jacket slung over his shoulder adds a ruggedness that most men couldn't pull off. Your eyes rake over him slowly, taking him in from top to bottom. He lets you devour him, smirk never leaving his lips. Eventually, you meet his gaze.

"You see something you like?"

"You clean up real nice, Barnes," you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

You untangle yourself from him before you jump his bones, and walk back to your closet. He follows you and sits on the edge of your bed, watching your every move like a hawk.

You pick out a sage green sundress that skims your thighs and hugs you in all the right places. It's a warm night, and your Mom loves to start a bonfire when it's cold.

"Close your eyes, playboy," you scold jokingly, laughing when he flops backwards to stare at your ceiling.

You slip the dress on, and realise it has a zipper at the back that you can't reach.

"Buck? Can you zip me up, please?"

He rises from his spot on the bed and strides over to you, standing a little closer than necessary. He pulls the zip upwards ever so slowly, fingertips brushing your spine as he goes. He's so warm and so broad behind you that it sends a shiver through your body.

Bucky brushes your hair to one side and leans down to press a featherlight kiss the place where your neck meets your shoulder. You hum in contentment, which only spurs him on. He begins to leave kisses wherever he pleases - your shoulder, your neck, behind your ear. You practically melt into him, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smile at his words, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Says the man that looks like a goddamn supermodel."

"Oh, angel. Now you're just lying to me."

His chuckle rumbles through the both of you, the sound lighting up your nerve endings.

Your eyes flick across the room, where you notice the clock on the wall.

"Baby," you whisper. "You gotta stop. We're gonna be late."

He groans lowly and lets his head loll into the crease of your shoulder.

"I was fine until you called me baby," he murmurs. "Now that's all I'm gonna be thinking about for the rest of the night."

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"I'm not."

You both laugh and untangle yourselves, you moving to put on your shoes while Bucky straightens himself out.

"You gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself, lover boy?"

"I'm gonna have to," he grumbles, trying to hide the smile that's fighting to take over his face.

You lean against him as you do up the straps of your shoes, dancing your fingers down his arm to interlink your hands.

"Ready?" you ask, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Ready," he confirms, leaning down to kiss you chastely.

"A night of pretending that we're not soulmates. How hard can that be?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Pretending that Bucky isn't your soulmate is one of the hardest things you've ever done.

You haven't even made it inside yet.

Buck parks his truck in your parents driveway and turns to look at you. You've been silent the entire ride over, and it's making him anxious. He reaches over and places a warm palm on your bare thigh, thumb rubbing patterns back and forth.

"You okay?"

You take a deep breath, which is all the answer he needs.

"It's alright, baby. I'm nervous too. We've got this. We're alright."

You look into his eyes for the first time since you were in your apartment, and have to fight to stop yourself from crying. You nod and bite your lip, inhaling and exhaling carefully.

"You're okay. I promise. It's me and you, honey girl. It's me and you."

You want to crawl over into Bucky's lap and bury your face in his chest. You want to curl up in his strong arms and let his scent envelope you. You want to tangle your fingers into his hair and smash his lips to yours, until you don't know where you end and Bucky begins.

Instead, you bring his hand from your thigh to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles tenderly. The gesture makes his heart beat so fast, he's a little worried he's about to pass out.

"Come and talk to me anytime tonight, okay? I've got you. I've always got you."

You nod again, and take another deep breath.

"I know, Buck. It's the only thing I'm sure of."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My baby!"

Your Mom smothers you in a hug the minute you knock on the door, almost tipping you over in the process.

"Oh, you look so beautiful. This colour is gorgeous on you, sweetheart."

The heaviness of your heart gets a little lighter at the sight of your Mother. She's magic like that.

"Thanks Mama. Is your skirt new? It's pretty."

She gives you a twirl, the skirt billowing around her like a princess. Both you and Bucky smile when you catch each others eyes briefly.

"I got it on our trip! Your Dad got a new shirt too - he looks so handsome."

She's grinning from ear to ear talking about him. Your smile only gets wider.

Bucky gives your Mom a one armed hug, and hands her a white box with a bow on.

"I wish I could say this is from me, but I don't have nearly enough talent for that."

"You're plenty good at other things, Buck," she laughs. "What's in here, sweetheart?"

"Apple, carrot and cinnamon cake with cream cheese frosting. I piped little bunny rabbits on top, too."

Before she can say anything else, you take the box from her hands and walk into the house.

"We better put this in the refrigerator before the frosting melts!" you call as you leave.

"Come on Buck, let's get you a drink. Jack bought your favourite."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your parents backyard looks incredible.

Golden fairylights adorn the deck, illuminating the dining area that your Mom has set up. The table is covered with a white lace tablecloth, and littered with tea lights and candlesticks. Each place setting has a wine and a water glass ready, fringed cushions perched on each wooden chair. There's a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a stained glass vase as the centerpiece, more flowers scattered across the entirety of the table.

The sun hasn't set yet, and the entire garden is dripping with the glowing orange hue of the evening. The air is warm and calm, salty ocean breeze only disrupting the peace occasionally. If summer were to be summed up in a night, it'd be this one.

Your Dad is pouring water into all of the glasses from an ornate painted jug when you walk into the yard.

"Hi, Papa."

"Oh, sweetheart!" he smiles in surprise, abandoning his task to come and give you a hug. "You look amazing. I like your dress."

"Thank you - hey, is this your new shirt? It suits you!"

"It's nice, right? Your Mom picked it out. She said the colour brings out my eyes."

You look him up and down comically, crossing your arms over your chest like a cartoon detective.

"Hmm... she's right. It definitely does."

You're both laughing when your Mom and Bucky join you, the two men immediately smacking each other on the back affectionately.

"Where you been, Buck? Work keeping you busy?"

"Stupidly busy - you wouldn't even believe."

"Well, it's your night off, so no shop talk!" your Mom encourages, handing Bucky a beer.

"Easier said than done," he winks, and your breathing picks up just a little.

"Mama, do you need help with anything in the kitchen?"

"Oh, yes please, sweetheart. Come, let me show you what needs doing."

The two of you leave the men to catch up, walking inside to prep the appetisers.

You're slicing tomatoes carefully when you turn to watch your Mom for a minute. She's chopping up basil, completely engrossed. The evening sun beams in, illuminating her as she stands by the window. You love her so much it makes you unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, Mama? Can I talk to you about something?"

She turns and immediately stops what she's doing, giving her full attention to you.

"Of course you can, baby. Anything at all."

You take a deep breath, and carry on slicing while you talk.

"So, you remember Stella, right?

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

There's good food, gorgeous wine and even better company. Your parents invited many of their friends, meaning twelve of you are sat around the meticulously prepared table. In between courses, there's conversation, laughter and games, everyone letting go of the stress of the week.

You're doing everything you can to avoid looking at Bucky. You're worried that if someone catches the two of you, they'll know everything. You're surprised you haven't confessed already, the weight of the secret too heavy to bear.

Your Mom is cutting your cake on the table when there's a sudden commotion.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Shit! Shit, I'm sorry. Shit."

"Is everyone okay?" your Mom asks, flitting to the other end of the table.

"I'm so fucking clumsy, my God. Dropped my wine straight onto Bucky," Jesse, one of your Dad's oldest friends, explains.

"As long as it doesn't stain my white tablecloth, we're fine," your Mom laughs. "What do you need, Buck?"

"It's only white wine, luckily, so no stain. I'm just wet. I'm gonna go dry off."

"I have a hairdryer?" you offer without thinking.

"Good idea, honey. Go help Bucky upstairs while I get some paper towels."

You rise from your chair and make your way inside, heart racing as Bucky follows you. You rummage around the drawers of your childhood bedroom, certain you used to keep all of your hair tools here somewhere.

"You got it?" a warm, whiskey smooth voice asks from behind you.

"Got it," you reply, standing up with the hairdryer in your hand.

Bucky kicks the door closed behind him, and takes a step into you.

"I can't focus on anything when you're sat there in that dress," he murmurs. "Look like a fuckin' angel, all pretty under the lights."

Heat blooms over your chest, and you pray he doesn't notice. Your breathing quickens, and you step forward too, now chest to chest with him.

"I'm so worried that I'm going to accidentally blurt it out," you confess. "You're the only thing that's on my mind."

Bucky leans down to press his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. You fist your hands into his shirt and pull him closer, snaking your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like mint and sugar and every kiss for the rest of your life.

He groans when you bite his lip, nipping yours back in retaliation.

"Easy, baby," he warns teasingly. "I can't go back down there black and blue."

You roll your eyes and kiss him harder, practically melting when he grabs at your ass roughly.

"What do you need, pretty girl?" he questions against your mouth. "I'll give you anything."

You're panting against him, vibrating with need.

"Need you to take the edge off," you whisper, hands shaking as you unbutton his wet shirt. "Can't carry on like this. Please, baby. Please."

"We've gotta be quick," he reminds, sneaking his hand under your dress to tease you over your underwear.

You grab at his shoulders for leverage, almost certain your knees aren't going to hold out long enough. Bucky doesn't even take your panties off, just slips his hand down the front. It feels filthier this way.

"Fuck," he groans. "This all for me, honey? You been thinking about this?"

"Yes," you whine. "All I've thought about."

Bucky wastes no time, slipping a finger into you easily. After a minute, he adds another, setting a steady rhythm immediately.

"Shit," you breathe, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. "We're supposed to be taking it slow."

"You want me to go slow?"

"No, fuck," you say immediately. "Don't stop. Please."

He chuckles lowly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

"I won't, baby. Almost there."

It should be embarrassing, how quickly he can take you to the edge, but you don't care. This is what having a soulmate is. They know you better than anyone - inside and out.

"So close," you whisper.

"I know, pretty baby. I can feel it. Stay quiet and come for me. That's it."

You can't hold out when he uses that tone with you. You're thrown over the edge, your climax running through you like molten honey, hot and delicious. Your knees buckle, and Bucky uses a strong arm around your middle to hold you up.

"There we go," he's murmuring. "Atta girl. That's my girl."

You wrap your arms around his waist and breathe him in, finally coming back to your senses.

"My parents are gonna wonder where we are," you realise. "Grab your shirt and the hairdryer. You're gonna have to do it while I recover."

Bucky smiles at you with so much affection, the world stops spinning for a second. This is a moment of bliss. The two of you revel in it.

Bucky dries his shirt while you go back outside, trying to keep suspicion to a minimum.

"Fixed, sweetheart?" your Mom asks, holding out a piece of cake to you. You take it gratefully and sit back down, relaxing into your chair.

"Yeah, it's basically dry. That hairdryer is old, so it's taking a while."

"Well you didn't miss much, other than Jesse telling the Joshua Tree story for the fortieth time this month," your Dad laughs.

"You love that story, asshole!" Jesse yells, just as Bucky re-enters the garden. He throws you a mischievous smile, which you reciprocate with ease.

Everyone is a little more careful with their wine as the night goes on, keeping all the glasses planted firmly on the table.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"So then I said, well, if you don't like it, leave!"

You're pretty sure you've heard your Mom's friend Cora tell this story before, but you're all laughing like it's the first time. She has such an animated voice, you're convinced you could listen to her read the phone book.

"Which, I mean, I didn't think he would. Imagine breaking up over a chinchilla! A fucking chinchilla!"

You're laughing so hard your sides hurt. You look over to Bucky, and see that he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. You could get used to this.

"So I watched him pack his shit, box by box. Which took fucking ages, by the way. He was using those big plastic boxes, you know the black ones? And he was filling them so carefully and so slowly, that I started helping him!"

You wipe a tear from your face, still doubled over in amusement. You're gonna be sore tomorrow, the way your abs hurt now.

"But I didn't want him taking those boxes, because they're nice, right? They're expensive, and they're mine! So I helped him move out, and then unpacked all of his shit so I could have my boxes back."

Your Mom, despite hearing this story before, hasn't taken her eyes off Cora the entire time. She's such a careful listener. It's one of the things you love most about her.

"Oh, I'll drop them off for you, if you like!" Cora yells, staring directly at you. Everyone turns to look at you in confusion.

"Why would she need all your boxes?" Jesse laughs.

"For the big move!"

Time stands still. The world goes silent. Your heart stops beating.

"...What move?" Bucky asks, never taking his eyes off you.

"To California! Her dream job, falling in her lap. We're so proud of you, babygirl. You've worked so hard for this."

Cora's tearing up now, the alcohol catching up to her. She raises her glass high in the air.

"To our little superstar. The best baker the world has ever seen! Cheers!"

Everyone clinks their glasses together in the middle of the table, except for you and Bucky. You haven't taken your eyes off each other. The world carries on, but you stay still.

You suddenly feel a cacophony of emotions - sadness, anger, betrayal, hurt and confusion settling like ten tonne weights onto your chest. Then it hits you - you're feeling what Bucky feels.

You feel a heart break.

You're not sure if it's yours or his.

tag list part one -

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[first-edition]

Bent Over

Summary- You may be Bucky’s assistant but your still is pretty wife. When the other board members take a liking to you bucky puts them in their place by showing them exactly who you belong two.

Cw- literally just smut basically, P-in-V, Unprotected, doggystyle, hair pulling, choking kink, Sargent! Authority kink, reader has long hair and wears heels, Afab reader, brief mention of drool, dirt talk, public sex, exhibitionistm kink, dom/sub, Dom!bucky, CEO!bucky, assistant reader, spanking, pet names, brief clit play, bucky fucking you raw over the meeting table with others watch. SLIGHTLY PROOF READ.

A/N this is by far the most….UNHOLY thing I’ve ever written in my 11 years of writing fanfiction and smut so i encourage you to read the content warning above and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

ENJOY

You've worked for Bucky for hydra company since you were born. You previously worked for your father Alexander Pierce when you turned 14. But when his assistant double crossed him and killed him, that same assistant, James Buchanan Barnes took over the company at 18. At first you hated him having nothing left, not like your father was good. Of course the company should've gone to you..and well it did but at 14 years old it wasn't yours to run. 

You two would bicker and often hand in hand fight regardless of being his assistant. Many year later and many fail assanation attempts on him you married him. You've been James's assistant for 11 years, and you've been married to him for 3. Your bickering had ended in a lust induced fight that led to feeling being expressed at gunpoint then a rough night that left you partially, and deliciously crippled the next morning, which prompted Bucky to make you breakfast in bed and draw you a bath. 

Your work relationship is far different from home. At home he never lets you only want you whether that's wrapping his arms around you for a cuddle or being balls deep in your cunt. 

At work however he's the right amount of distance and so are you. It's become a mutual thing to not let anyone know in the tower that you and the big boss are married. 

You walk into the building holding a tray of coffees and an arm full of files. Your hair up in a ponytail, you wear a black knee high pencil skirt with a fairly loose but classy dark blue blouse, your black stockings paired with the jet black louis vuittons red bottoms bucky bought you last week. 

“I made the coffee run.” you say setting the tray down in the office room. 

Everyone who orders comes scrambling to their order without a thank you as usual. 

“You do a lot around her, don't you miss pierce.” you hear an older man's voice speak and you turn to see one of the board members and the other men on his team behind him. 

“Welcome Mr Cain you are early..i'll have to let mr barnes know.” you say pursing your lips in slight annoyance. 

“Yes well i'm not going to miss a chance at this pretty face now am I?” he says lifting your chin you pull away from him. 

“Excuse Me.” you say before turning back and walking down the hall area. They of course unauthorizedly follow close behind you. You stop at bucky's office doors as the desk girl presses the button allowing the doors to open you step in seeing bucky standing over to the window watching the morning view of the city as he shines up his metal hand, which your father gave him after a coup was sent on him he used bucky as a human shield. 

“Mr barnes. It appears Mr Cain has arrived early.” you says 

“Love the way you say my name sweetheart.” Cain speaks slapping your ass making you jump and wanting you punch the ever living outta him. 

“Hmm.” Bucky hums as he turns to see Mr cain. 

“Are the others here?” he asks you. 

“No sir…they will be arriving at 8. Like you asked.” you say knowing bucky will be pissed off at cain with being early and treating you as such. A small smile forming on your face. 

“You're 15 minutes early Cain. Were you offered coffee or bourbon? " Bucky says. 

“No james-” Cain begins. 

“Good.” Bucky cuts him off. He looks to you and holds out his hands for the files. You walk over to him handing them to your beloved husband. He takes a moment to look through the pages.

“Early Mr Cain but lacking in so many areas, your files aren't in the stock.” he says. 

“I had it transferred digitally.” Cain speaks proudly. Bucky tilts his head to the side slightly and nods a bit before handing the files back to you. You walk to the cabinet and bend down to sort them into the right orders. You hear a crash and a grunt knowing Cain is face down on the table and Bucky is holding him there. 

“Im old school Cain i like the files printed, i also like to be on time, not early, not late…on. Fucking. Time.” bucky huffs cain struggles against the cold black marble desk. 

“Understood?” Bucky asks. 

“Y-yes..sir..” Cain gurgles out. Bucky lets him go and stands up fixing his suit. 

“Good. I'll see you in um….10 minutes. Office room 8. y/n.” bucky says looking at you as you close the files cabinet. 

“Yes sir?” you ask completely unfazed but the situation as Cain picks himself up. 

“Send the maid in to clean up the mess and get room 8 ready for the meeting… also escort Mr Cain out and show twords the room.” he says you nod your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out cain following you. 

—-------

You stand on the side of the door way welcoming the men of the board into the meeting room one by one they all join in and in some way in their own eye fuck you, or get a touch of you in some way. 

They all take their seats and bucky walks in after them. You're about to close the door when he stops you. 

“I'll need you for this one doll.” He says he never calls you his personal nickname at work. 

“S-sir?” you ask 

“Come on love.” he says, taking your hand leading you into the room. He takes a seat at the head of the table as usual and you stand beside him. 

“So I realize that we are gathered here for the section rating. How our router facilities are going and what we are going to do about the one that got taken down. Simply kill the one in charge, the router taken down, and forty the rest." Bucky begins. 

“In the budget.” someone begins. Bucky holds his hand up. 

“The budget is not the problem. The problem is that we have to much money and aren't using it to put more into the structure..but that's not the problem i want to address today no…the harassment and sexualization of my wife is getting out of hand.'' Bucky speaks and stands up pushing his chair back. 

“J-james.” you speak quietly. 

“I don't know what you men think but i think that the only one here who gets to touch her is me…don't you?” bucky speaks undoing his belt, your knees feel of jello and a shiver goes up your spine. 

Bucky pulls you to him and presses his lips to yours deeply he grips a handful of your ass before pushing you back against the table, your back laying against it he pushing up your skirt and rips open the front of your shirt. 

“I think you all need a fuckign lesson about who my assistant is and your gonna sit their like good students and fucking watch.” bucky grunts out as your laced bra is exposed he grips your neck pulling you up to him and gently takes out your ponytail letting your hair fall. 

“What do you think of these dirty old men touching you honey?” he asks you. You bite your lip making a bucky smile knowing what that does to him. 

“Your hands trails down his front to his crotch feeling the bulge already full in his pants straining against the fabric. You pull down the zipper causing him to slip out, you take him in your hand giving his length a few good strokes before he pushes back against the table he moves your panties to the side briefly only to rip them off throwing them in the room. With out warning or prep he enters you roughly you mouth falls open and a moan escapes as he begins to fuck up into you. 

“n-ngh..James.” you gasp out in pleasure. 

“Come on princess, don't hide those pretty sounds from us.” he says a violent blush fills your face but the arousal going on between your legs blurs out any embarrassment. Your husband is fucking you out silly, on the table of the meeting room infront of the entire board and you are loving every second of it. 

“Come on doll you gotta l–let em know who you belong to. You the fuck put tha pretty ring on your finger?” bucky huffs. 

“Y-you did ahh. Fu-fuck.. You did.” you maon out in fragments as he pulls you bra down exposing your tits gripping one and continuing to fuck you his thumb brushing over your hardend bud and the stimulation in you cunt is enough for you cum once. 

“F-fuck james..ah” you grip his hand as your cunt squeezes around his cock. 

“Come on love you cant keep this a secrect you fucking cumming?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Y-y-yes ah..m-more please.” you ask breathlessly. He pulls out of you for a quick moment before turning you on your stomach and taking you from behind. Your nails claw at the table as he pounds into you. 

“Come on honey gotta show em your gorgeous face dont yah.” he pulls you up you back against him his left hand around your neck making your eyes roll back in pleasure and happiness on the dominance he has over you. While his other hand reaches down to your clit rubbing and playing perfectly. 

“Ah! AH” you moan out a broken gasp as your knees merge in over stimulation. 

“Come on… take it like a good girl.” Bucky groans into your ear knowing that the other men can absolutely hear him. 

Your arms reach about your head holding onto bucky as best as you can, your tits bouncing freely, men both looking away and can't take their eyes off the display right in front of them. 

“Come one baby you gonna fucking cum for me again huh?” bucky grunts. 

“Y-yes ah fuck yes.. Please i- i want it so b-bad. Please im your..ah please sargent” you beg. Bucky knowing full well he has you in the palm of his hand now with how cock drunk he's easily gotten you. 

His hold around your neck loosens and he lets you back onto the table pressing his hand onto the small of your back feeling the arch making him groan. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me huh? For everyone here being so fucking obedient.” bucky barks out sending a harsh slap on your ass for you only making  you clench around his cock. Surging pleasure though him. Skin slapping against skin as he fucks you out.

“Fuck.” he huffs. He grips your hair pulling your head back, your drunken expression facing all the men drool dripping as your tongue hangs out. The pleasurable tears stinging the sides of your eyes blurring your vision. 

“I- im gonna c-cum ah- fuck.. Please please ah..” you messily beg. 

“Come on doll cum.” he demands out from you a few more thrusts later he has you cumming for the second time. His thrusts become weaker and sloppy as he curses with a rough few thrusts in you emptying his load into your pussy filling you up. He pushes his hair back as he pulls out of you. Bucky gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting you up against him your fucked you dazed happy expression is glowing for the others in the room. 

“obedience..is taught gentleman respect is earned. Any of you flaccid fucking shit faces touch her again or dare to question my authority with USLESS BOARD MEETINGS… Ill send someone to each and everyone of you and put a bullet or two right between your fucking eyes. Is that Understood?” Bucky speaks. 

“Yes sir.” they all say in broken unison. 

“Get the fuck out.” Bucky says they scramble out gathering their things and falling out the door before it's just the two of you left. You giggle out a tired giggle. 

Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, setting you down gently and brings his chair over. 

“Come here doll. You alright?” he asks you nod looking at him with lust filled eyes. 

A smile fills his face as his thumb brushes against your cheek. He sits you down in his chair. 

He takes off his jacket, placing it around you. “Come on honey imma take you home i don't think you can work today or tomorrow.” he smiles before kissing your lips. 

“W-we should do this again then yeah?” you ask as he picks you up bridal style. 

“Id be happy to fuck you infront of the presedent next week.” he chuckles. Making you laugh.

—-my requests are open—-

[anakinstwinklebunny]

MAFIA!ANAKIN COMPILATION

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: it's a compilation of one-shots and the order of these are off the time line. Which means it doesn't have to happen chronologically

Also what would you say about stalker!mafia!ani..

HEIST

you sprinted through the alley, adrenaline surging through your veins, your breath labored yet determined. Anakin's hand gripped yours tightly, pulling you close as the sounds of gunfire and police shouts echoed behind you. It all seemed to happen so fast - succesful heist, bags full of cash.. and then those damn cops. Time to time maul with cody twisted their bodies to shoot back but all you could actually feel was anakin's strong and firm grip before

"shit!" anakin cursed as he heard your yelp of pain, turning just in time to see the blood straining your thigh. Rage flared in his eyes and he swiftly took down the cop who shot you before his arm wrapped around your waist to support your weight "you're not getting shot twice on my watch, princess" he muttered with his voice laced with a mix of anger and concer

he guided you quickly through the maze of alleys, dodging more officers while he searched for a safe place to hide. Spotting an old, abandoned building, anakin made a beeline for it, kicking the door open before gently setting you down on the dusty floor. His hands trembled slighty and he was out of breath as he locked the door behind them

"it looks awful" you whispered, your voice weak as you tried not to focus on the pain

"hey, look at me, not the wound" he ordered softly after lifting your chin with his fingers "im going to get this out, sunshine, but it's not going to be pleasant"

he worked with precision, his fingers deftly finding the bullet and slowly pulling it free. his gaze moved to your face and his heart clenched at every wince of pain that crossed your featured "just hold on for me, dolcezza. almost there"

with the bullet out, he quickly tore the hem of his shirt into strip, binding your wound as best as he could. The sight of your blood on his hands and your pale, pained expression only fueled his anger for the already dead cop "those bastardi..i'll kill every last one of them" he growled under his breath

you looked up at him, our voice barely a whisper "i love you, you know"

"of course i know" he whispered back in more softened tone and his hands moved to cup your face "but don't say it like it's the last time. You're not dying on me, you got that?" he kissed your forehead gently "you're going to be fine, dolcezza. i'll get you out of this, and i swear i'll make them pay"

SPARKLES AND SHINES

Anakin didn’t return until late hour, the weight of the day’s demands etched in the tension of his shoulders as he walked through the front door. He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoning his shirt and then his gaze moved all around the place, searching for only one face. Usually you would be already all around him, sneaking small kisses or hugs but this time he not only didn't see you at least by the doorframe but also not even in the living room, which was completely uncommon for you

"Angel?"

His voice echoed through the empty living room. When he spotted his gun—now decorated with glitter and jewels—a look of pure disbelief crossed his face. He blinked, taking in the sight of what had once been his favorite, rugged weapon now transformed into something out of a child’s craft project.

Muttering under his breath, he made his way to the kitchen, where the mess of empty packages confirmed his suspicions. He cursed under his breath and stalked through the house, his calls for you growing sharper with a mix of irritation and concern. Concern to find you adding glitter to his other belongings. Finally, he found you in the bedroom, sitting on the bed with an innocent smile.

“Hi,” you greeted him, as if everything was perfectly normal.

He stood there, tense, his eyes flicking between you and the glitter-covered gun in his hand "Care to explain this?" he emphasized the last word by lifting his hand with the object

You glanced at the gun, then back at him with a sheepish grin. "I had extra glitter… and I thought it could use some sparkle."

"On my gun?" his voice fought to stay calm

"But it’s prettier now! Look at it, so shiny," you said, still trying to charm your way out of trouble.

Anakin huffed “It was already perfect. Before you decided to attack it with glitter.” he looked down at his now sparkly hands, muttering in frustration, “I’ll be a walking rainbow in a few hours.”

Slowly setting the gun aside, so it wouldn't leave glitter everywhere (although he somehow knew it'd), he pulled you up and guided you toward the bathroom with a firm grip. "We’re taking a shower. Now."

"But why we? You’re the one covered in glitter," you protested.

“Because it’s your fault I’m in glitter,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushed you, gently yet firmly, into the bathroom. When he started to undress, he added, “And you’re the one who’s going to help me get it off.”

EDGE OF DESIRE

When you and Anakin had a fight, the room was a true battlefield. Anakin had a strong personality, opposite to what you had. But when the argument began, the place was thick with animosity and unspoken words that clung to the air like a suffocating fog.

And here he was, now, standing upright. He didn’t raise his voice—he never did—yet the icy venom lacing his words cut deeper than any shout ever could. His blue eyes, usually warm and inviting (only for you), were now cold, distant, a glacial stare that sent unpleasant shivers down your spine. His jaw was clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking, his fists balled at his sides as he fought to keep his rage in check.

You stopped dead in your tracks at his latest biting remark, the words a poison that seeped into your veins, igniting your own fury at full shot. Your teeth ground together, and you spun on your heel, storming into the kitchen, the anger radiating off you in waves. You couldn’t even look at him, couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him for another second..

So you snapped.

Without thinking, you grabbed a knife from the counter and rushed back to him. He didn't have enough time to react before your trembling hand pressed the cold, unforgiving blade to his throat. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, the world narrowing down to the thin line of steel against his skin and the wild look in your eyes.

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat, shock rippling through him for the briefest of moments before something darker took hold. His heart pounded, not out of fear, but from the thrill of the danger, the audacity of your defiance. A slow, wicked smile curled his lips, the surprise giving way to a twisted kind of pleasure.

“Are you flirting with me, dolcezza?” His voice was low, dripping with a dark amusement, as if coaxing a wild animal to strike. His eyes glittered with a dangerous light

“Just shut up,” you snarled, but your voice trembled, betraying the storm of emotions roiling inside you. Still, you pressed the blade harder against his throat, your grip firm despite the tremor in your hand. It was somehow pleasing, to have the sharp knife you once used to cut food, now to have it pushed to his skin

“And if I don’t? What then? You’ll slit my throat, sweetheart?”

“Gladly,” you hissed, the words sharp, venomous to match his own from moments ago, and you pushed the knife closer, the blade biting into his skin. But instead of fear, what you saw in his eyes was desire—a twisted, dangerous hunger that made your heart stutter

The cold steel at his throat was nothing compared to the fire blazing through his body, a heady mix of rage and need that clouded his judgment. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in every detail—your flushed cheeks, the wild fire in your eyes he saw for the first time. It was intoxicating, seeing you like this—fierce, untamed, and so damn beautiful.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry, mia bella” his gaze flicked to the knife, then back to your eyes, his pupils blown wide with a dangerous mix of emotions. "Truly beautiful, sweetheart" he purred, his lips curved into a slight smirk as your eyes met his once again "Especially when you’re furious, holding a knife to my throat like that.."

“Stop,” you ordered, but your voice wavered, the tension between you so thick it was suffocating.

“Make me” he challenged, leaning into the blade, daring you to push it further

Your heart raced, a storm of emotions swirling inside you. You wanted to cut his throat open, see him bleed out in all of your negative emotions..but still..you also wanted to smash your lips with his and pour all of the anger to the life-changing love making that would make you feel free "What is wrong with you?" you frowned, the overwhelming tear running down your cheeks "I’m standing here with a damn knife to your throat, your life is in my hands, and you’re just... mocking me? You should be begging me not to cut you" His eyes softened slightly as they gazed onto yours that screamed from glossy sheen of anger and frustration. But he didn't stop. It was not like he was mocking you completely. He just..simply tried to push you to your last possibility. To see you get overwhelmed with nothing but crimson red anger "C’mon then, principessa" he murmured, his voice low, seductive "Make me beg. Make me get on my knees for you. Do that, and I swear, I’ll give you anything you want."

DISAPPOINTMENT

“No... why—why would you cut your hair?” you pouted, your fingers threading through Anakin’s freshly cropped hair

Anakin chuckled at your reaction, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you down onto his lap. “It was way too long,” he murmured, the warmth of his hands spreading through your clothes as he drew you closer. “Besides, I don’t want the damn cops spotting me that easily.”

“But I loved it long...could do braids and all those tiny ponytails,” your hand moving back and forth through his shorter strands, the loss somehow still stinging in your heart. Anakin's curls were to die for. You were practically obsessed with them. How messy and unruly they were most of the time, how he was so submissive to your need to just play with them. How you showed them equal love to each part of his body. But now they're gone, and the thought of it was still hard to process

“Principessa, don’t make me regret cutting it off,” his voice a mix of teasing and exasperation as he sighed. He caught your wandering hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss each finger softly, trying to soothe your disappointment.

“Who did it anyway?”

“Ahsoka,” a smirk tugging at his lips. “She’s been bugging me about it for a week.”

“Only a week? That’s surprising,” you teased, your fingers trailing over the side of his face

He snickered at that, rolling his eyes when a gentle smile softening his features. “She’s a little pest,” he joked, though there was clear affection in his tone.

“She adores you,” you said softly, shifting so your legs straddled his hips, your thumbs now moving to brush over his cheekbones.

“And I adore her, but sometimes I want to strangle her,” he replied with a smirk, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist, pulling you even closer. His face inched toward yours, the tension between you both a delicate balance of playfulness and unspoken desire.

“Well, that’s typical sibling behavior,” the teasing lilt in your voice fading into something more tender

MAKING YOU PROUD

“No, it’s—” he sighed heavily “Just, come on, again”

“Buona sera” you smiled, extending your hand for him to shake, though your Italian faltered as you spoke. It was the first time of Anakin teaching you Italian and most of the times all you did was fail. He specifically made his time to teach you his language after finding out you've tried to teach yourself using an app (which, for him, was unacceptable just because in his opinion the app was "shit")

But what he did not know, was the vocabulary book under your shared bed that you often used to learn his language. However, you always acted like you know nothing

Anakin's deep rumbled through his throat as you stumbled over the words. He took your hand and gently pulled you into his lap “You’re adorable when you fail miserably,” he teased, his tone warm but playfully mocking.

“I did not fail… I said exactly what you've told me to say,” you protested, trying to defend yourself, but there was a hint of a pout in your voice.

“Yeah, you sure did,” he smirked, pulling your legs so you straddled his lap, his hands resting on your soft thighs. “But no offense, bella, that was a horrible pronunciation.”

“Can’t I just ask someone if they speak english and when they say yes, I’ll just switch to it?” you suggested, rolling your eyes as you felt the weight of his playful criticism.

“You have a point, but I love hearing you speak Italian,” he shrugged casually, his teasing tone still evident. “Even if you suck at it,” he added, his hands sliding to your hips. “Come on, just say it again… and slower this time.”

“Buona sera” you repeated, this time more carefully.

His smile softened when you finally got it right. His hands gripped your hips gently, still massaging your skin as he leaned in closer. “See? You’re getting better at it,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck.

“That’s just a basic hello,” you murmured, trying to downplay his praise, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

He snickered, a smirk playing on his lips as he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter how basic it is. I’m just glad you didn’t butcher the pronunciation this time,” his voice low as he leaned forward and gently nipped at your earlobe. “Say something else. Another phrase.”

“Sono tutta tua” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper, and the moment the words left your mouth, he froze.

Anakin’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, taken aback by how perfectly you had spoken the phrase—almost without an accent. Now he was genuinely impressed.

“Where did you learn that phrase?” his smirk returning as one of his hands trailed from your thigh to your ribs, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“I—I’ve been practicing” you admitted, your cheeks flushing as his large hand slipped beneath your shirt, the cool metal of his rings sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh yeah?” he inquired, his smirk deepening as his fingers teased the skin beneath your shirt, slowly lifting it higher. “You’ve been practicing in secret?”

“Yeah…” you mumbled, feeling the heat of his touch and the way his fingers explored the bare skin underneath.

“Did you practice for me?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his tone dark and filled with desire.

“Well, yeah…” you confessed, your voice catching slightly as his fingers discovered the absence of a bra.

“Damn, principessa,” he breathed, his smirk widening as he realized what you had been hiding. His fingers began tracing slow, deliberate patterns over your sensitive skin, each touch making your breath hitch. “Say something more. I want to hear you speak it again,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his hands continued their exploration.

SHOWER SESSION

You and Anakin had a habit of using the bathroom together. Sometimes he suggested that, sometimes you did. Often in all tiredness you just wanted to cuddle to him while you lazily go through your bedtime routine. And having such fallen angel right by your side that even was ready to help you shower if you were too exhausted to do that, world seemed to bright up in colours

However, sometimes things got intense under the hot steaming water;

His touch became more urgent, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he lifts you up against the shower wall "Wrap your legs around me, baby..." his voice hoarse with desire. "Gonna make you scream..."

"we were supposed to take a shower--" you whispered, although did what he asked for - obediently wrapping your legs and arms around his body

He buried his face in the crock of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he continues to pound into you, his arms banded around you tightly. "Should've...showered...separately..." He gasps out between thrusts, his breath hot against your skin.

The feeling of his thick member stretching you out in such beautiful way, made your already swollen lips part to free more sounds

His grip on you only tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh "oh fuck..tell me what you want..tell me and it's gonna be at your fucking feet..all yours"

"h-hamster" you panted

His expression softened before a choked laugh escaped his throat "god..you're one at kind" his hips snapped upward and a groan escaped his throat "you're gonna get a whole...damn...pet...store..." He hisses through his teeth

OWNED BY SHADOWS

Anakin had his moments a few times in a moth where he often came to the club (which had a very specific list - basically, to got here was a blessing in disguise) to play gambling. He had a lot of time to practice over the years but whenever he took you with himself, he felt a double shot of luck spiral through him

His fingers remained steady on the cards, his concentration unwavering. He leaned closer, his lips brushing softly against your exposed shoulder. You wore a beautiful red dress that he personally made sure was yours, in your closet "Would you fetch me a drink, bella?"

You nodded and stood up from his lap to make your way through the crowded room. You kept your head up, observating the whole place and scanning new faces. Men in suits chatted and played games while women in dresses mingled. The entire room buzzed with the energy of people who were used to getting what they wanted.

As you walked to the bar, you felt eyes on you. Some men looked at you with interest, while a few women shot you glances that were either curious or envious. Anakin had his time to fully reveal who you belong to and it was met (from females) with jealous glances and uninviting behavior. Yet, your boyfriend made sure the 'attacks' would never happen again

"Hi," you said to the bartender with a smile. "Could I get a whiskey with ice?"

the bartender nodded, his expression professional. "Whiskey with ice. Coming right up miss." and with that, he turned away from you to prepare the drink

However not even a minute went off, a deep voice interrupted "Whiskey? That’s a bit strong for a lady like you"

You turned to see a man with dark hair and a bit of stubble. He was dressed in a suit, his eyes sizing you up. "It’s not for me," you said, remembering how Anakin always told you not to chat too much with people here. The man didn’t seem ready to drop the conversation - he leaned in a little closer, his smile widening

"Not for you," he echoed, clearly interested. "You’re a real beauty. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. What’s your name, sweetheart?"

"None of your business," you said with a tight smile, hoping he’d take the hint.

But he only chuckled, not backing off. Well, men are always stupid "Feisty, huh? I like that. It’s not every day a new face like yours shows up around here."

He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a more suggestive tone after you tried to move sway. "Don’t be so quick to brush me off. I promise, I’m not so bad—unless you want me to be" just then, the bartender handed you the drink. You took it with a quick 'thank you', eager to end the conversation.

"No, thanks," you replied firmly. "I have a boyfriend who knows how to handle things just fine."

The man’s expression darkened, a flicker of something like annoyance in his eyes. But he wasn’t giving up. "Where’s your boyfriend then, huh? If he’s so great, why’s he leaving someone like you all alone?"

"Turn around and find out" Anakin’s voice cut in, cool and steady.

The man’s face fell as he turned to see Anakin standing right behind him. Anakin’s eyes were cold, his posture tense "Let me ask you something," Anakin said, his voice low and dangerous. "Was this guy bothering you?"

"A little," you admitted, sliding an arm around Anakin’s waist.

Anakin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. He didn’t take his eyes off the man. "Sounds like he needs to be reminded not to mess with what’s mine" Anakin’s muscles tightened, and his voice dropped to a near growl. "You really think you can just walk in here and talk to my girl like that? Try it again, and see what happens."

Anakin gently grabbed your chin and leaned in to kiss you; a firm, possessive kiss that left no doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his. He made sure to make an eye contact with the guy while pushing his tongue into your mouth. When he pulled back, his eyes softened a bit as he looked at you. "Let’s get out of here, yeah?"

"What about your drink? And-and the guy?" you murmured, glancing at the whiskey.

Anakin’s eyes flicked to the glass before returning to you, his expression warm and affectionate. "The drink can wait and I'll take care of him later" he said softly "Let’s get home, bella"

As you left, Anakin’s arm stayed around your waist, his grip protective. He was calm, but you could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. That guy had made a big mistake, and you knew Anakin wasn’t going to forget it. He never does. Not when someone touches what his

Near the entrance, Anakin turned you to face him. He leaned in close, lowering his voice "I’ve got something for you," he whispered.

"For me?" you asked, puzzled

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a thick wad of cash. His eyes held warmth as he held it out to you between his two fingers "While you were getting my drink, I happened to win again." He smirked at your eye-roll. "And I believe this is yours."

His slender fingers, wrapped with a sort of subtle strength, gently slipped the money into your cleavage. As he performed this familiar gesture, his eyes remained fixated on you, filled with a hint of mischief, but also a tender adoration that he could never try hiding."

"Consider it a gift and a thank you, mia cara," he murmured, his voice rich with desire. His fingers traced the edge of your dress, sending tingles down your spine. His breath was warm against your skin as he leaned in closer. "It suits you," he teased softly.

"Cash in cleavage?" you raised an eyebrow.

Anakin smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement "A very pleasant sight, I must say." He leaned in, his voice a low rumble "I like to keep treasures in beautiful places.."

DIRTY

After relentless love-making with anakin, he found himself not being able to stop. He couldn't stop. It was so thrilling and pleasuring to watch you in different positions, each time making different sounds he so much adored. Of course, he made sure you even want to continue, because even if he wanted to keep destroying you so badly, he refused to do it unless you agree to that But when his eyes spotted your cum on his sheets, he had enough "Look at you, making a mess..go ahead, clean it..."

"wh-what?" you ask in slight disbelief

Without much effort, He pushed you forward so your face hovered over the wet spot on the bed. "Lick it up" he commands

The demand left a slight pang of reluctance in you, though curiosity and desire to please him got the better of you and you hesitantly extended your tongue. You ran it across the material, licking your own liquids off. Anakin groaned at the sight before him, his hips stuttering "Fuck..." he growls, immediately picking up his pace

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[bvidzsoo]

Color of love

The third star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

☆ Warning: smut, breeding kink (?), possessiveness, mentions of abuse and enslaving, violence

☆ Word count: 12.3k

☆ Rating: nsfw, mature

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, Hongjoong is Hermes and MC is Iris, fated to be together au

☆ Summary: If there was a God everyone feared, perhaps it was Zeus. After the continuous abuse he's put you through, you never thought you'd get to live your eternal life peacefully. That is, until the messenger God shows up and whisks you away before Zeus can see and stop him.

☆ A/N: Helloo, my lovelies!! ^^ I am back and all fresh to continue my Greek series, memory refreshed of the places that our story takes place at. All villages mentioned in this part are very real places and I decided to use them, since I now know Greek people also read this series, I hope I have done justice with the descriptions and please forgive me if I messed up anything, but I did take some creative liberty (mythology included!) Surprisingly, I don't have much to yap about right now, except that while writing this I derailed a bit from the initial plot I had constructed lmao but it's actually good because it tied everything nicely together. The taglist is still open, so lmk if you want to be added to it. I appreciate all your feedback, so let me know what you thought of Hongjoong's part! ^^ Enjoy, and here's a glossary before you start reading:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Hermes is considered the herald of the gods, but is also a messenger God ★ Iris is the the personification of the rainbow and messenger of the gods, a servant to the Olympians and especially Queen Hera ★ talaria are winged sandals ★ petasos is a wide-brimmed hat with a conical crown worn in ancient Greece ★ Zeus is the god of the sky and is considered the ruler, protector, and father of all gods and humans ★ Hera is the goddess of marriage, family, childbirth, and women, known as the queen of the gods ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love, beauty, desire, and all aspects of sexuality ★ Dryad is a tree nymph  ★ Hades is the God of the underworld ★ Selene is the is the goddess and personification of the Moon ★ Helios is the god representing the sun ★ Isis is the goddess of healing and magic ★ Underworld is a distinct realm where an individual goes after death ★ Cerberus often referred to as the hound of Hades, is a multi-headed dog that guards the gates of the Underworld ★ Ano Skotina, Palaioi Poroi, Palaios Panteleimonas are villages in the Olympic Riviera and are situated on the mountain side ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (definitely give it a visit if you're in the area!) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie @skittyneos @mingheol @sebastianswhore13

@astral-trashcan

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　★ previous star ★ 

            Alongside the mountain range of Olympus lays more than one beautiful settlement, some so breathtakingly magnificent that one would dare say the Gods themselves have crafted them. It goes without saying that it wasn’t them, but perhaps the humans that have constructed such roads and buildings were momentarily blessed by Hephaestus to wield their instruments the same way he wields his, with the same precision and perfection, building a haven for those who sought a refuge and a place to which they belonged. The lush green mountain range held more than one hidden village from the prying eyes of those wandering through the forest or the inhabitants of the bustling town of Dion, and these small settlements also offered refuge to those who desperately needed one. Right underneath the noses of the Olympian Gods, blessed but also scrutinized and often forgotten about, nobody would’ve thought to look for the two that held so much power in their pale hands, their bodies frail-looking but everlasting. The earthlings of Ano Skotina were unassuming and comprehensive of the two strangers who ran down the cobblestone-covered paths with baited breaths and soaked to the bone by the heavy rain, yet despite the oddness of their appearance and mumbled speeches, the villagers offered the two wandering souls fresh meal, a warm bath, and a house that they could call theirs. It almost felt like a distant memory now, something that happened centuries ago when, in fact, it was merely a few years back, when Zeus’ rage was still fresh and unforgiving as it mercilessly outlashed the mortals that worshipped him so much.

With the disappearance of Iris from Olympus, the Gods felt restless and uncertain, however, no matter how much Zeus scattered them out to search for his beloved seer, no God or Goddess has ever found her. But she was right under their noses, albeit tucked away in a safe place and surrounded by mortals who loved her and worshipped her unknowingly of her real self and status. The tall pinecone trees mixed with those specific to the climate had turned a sharper and more brilliant green compared to their colour before the two strangers decided to settle down in the quiet village, and after every rain, there was a rainbow. The children of the village would giggle and squeal whenever it appeared in the blue sky as they tried to chase its end, leaving a bright smile on my face as I tinkered around my humble abode, waiting for my lover to return.

The villagers of Ano Skotina were pleasant people, and once they warmed up to the newcomers, they included them in every tradition they had, often showering them with goods they didn’t need anymore. Despite looking as human as possible, there was something unearthly about the two newcomers, their auras bright and light, demanding a certain devotion that many in Olympus lacked. It had been hard at first to get used to the kindness and good deeds that seemingly followed every person here, but at last, I learned and realized that not everyone wished ill on their peer, nor did they expect anything in return if they did something for you.

At first, I had felt ungrateful towards their kindness as I found myself unknowing of the customs of the earthlings. Despite being a messenger, I never quite learned their ways and patterns. But they were understanding and chalked it up to me being peculiar, special, and a little different from them and never made me feel excluded when something was new and I didn’t understand the process of it. Hermes was doing better by my side, he accommodated faster, but that was to be expected. He’s been amongst mortals for longer than me, disguising himself as one as it came as second nature to him. Despite the range of our powers, neither Hermes nor I were blessed with the feat of turning ourselves completely human, and thus, I couldn’t help but blame it on a natural wonder and a blessing made by a Goddess when I was just a child that my hair changed its colour every season. During the colder days, it would turn into an ashen brown, slowly turning into a warm caramel colour as the sun returned. When it got so warm that not even the shade of the tall trees could shelter me from the sizzling sunrays, my hair turned a reddish hue, until it faded into a light brown when the leaves started falling once again. The mortals never said anything, never accused me of anything, but it was easy to tell that they knew something was amiss, that it had to do something with the divine. Perhaps that also prompted them to be kinder and gentler towards me, oftentimes noticeable just how squeamish I was around everyone besides my saviour. His name, the one that the mortals so feverishly worshipped, was Hermes, but the one they unassumingly called out as if he were a friend to them was Hongjoong. I, myself, found the later version of his name more comforting, friendlier, and for once not a reminder of everything I had to endure in Olympus at the hands of Zeus.

The night had been serene when we blew out the last candle and made our way to our shared bed, the covers cold until our ghastly bodies warmed them up, hushed whispers and giggles leaving our reddish lips until we became enraptured by the night and the dreams it brought upon once our minds and souls calmed and admitted defeat to the simple feat of exhaustion. Wrapped in the arms of my lover nothing and nobody could hurt me, I knew I was safe and far away from the very God that called himself our father and protector. But there were nights when my dreams were clouded with visions, making my sleep restless and terrifying. Some visions that came to me would be bright and of great news, and some would be foreboding and dark, petrifying.

At first, when the bright moonlight coming through the opened curtains slowly faded into permeating darkness, I thought it must have been the rainclouds covering the beautiful celestial, but with the appearance of the gut-twisting feeling low in my stomach, I knew something was amiss. The house was eerily quiet and I was alone, no longer in the safe and strong arms of my lover. My feet were cold as I carefully left the confines of my bedroom, the floorboards wet and slippery in an uncharacteristic way. Perhaps Hongjoong had visited Poseidon and brought the seawater inside our house, perhaps the rain was so harsh it settled and flooded our house. But the absence of the pitter-patter of the rain against the roof of the cottage was enough to confirm that it wasn’t raining, and with the talaria not in its place, I also knew Hongjoong wasn’t home.

The quiet hiss behind me and the fear spreading through my body warned me that this wasn’t my reality, that I had been sucked into a vision while unconscious. Most of my visions happened when I was asleep, when my mind was at rest and open to receiving whatever the Cosmos wanted to alert me of, but if the situation was dire, I could force myself into a state of consciousness too to see such visions. Rarely, but it’s been happening more often since I have descended into the human realm, I would get snippets of the future if I touched certain objects or even mortals, visions that usually bore good news. And so, without my consciousness stirring me awake to interrupt the vision, I turned to face the hissing animal behind me. A long and dark green snake was slowly slithering towards me, menacing as it opened its mouth and showed its poisonous fangs. A snake couldn’t kill me, I was immortal after all, but it certainly could harm this human body I was forced to inhibit in this realm.

But the ground shook and the sky cleared once again, the scenery different to where my unconscious body lay peacefully in the arms of my lover. The pinecone trees twisted and turned around me, caging me in as the snake came menacingly close, and I raised my head to look at the moon but it was absent. I was deep in the forest, I could hear the hushed whispers of the Dryads, the concern and fear in their voices. The snake rose off the ground and gave one last hiss before it lunged towards me, my legs apparently frozen in place as I couldn’t jump away or even run off. But before it could sink its teeth into my pale and frail skin, an eagle’s scream was loud and warning as it suddenly gripped the snake in its sharp claws and yanked it away from my body, taking it far away as it flew off into the permeating darkness. The Dryads haven’t stopped whispering, and while their mutters remained intangible, they became louder and more urgent. My legs stopped feeling like lead and I took a tentative step in the direction I hoped the cobble path was and would lead me back to the village, but a shadow darker than darkness itself seeped between the trees as if it was mist, encompassing the forest.

There was a scream in the distance and sudden terror gripped at my throat, my body locking up as I stared into the silver orbs that now seemed to be blocking my every-way, watching me almost tauntingly. I couldn’t breathe as my lungs seized, and I clawed at my throat, but the pressure only worsened, my body shaking from fear and the lack of oxygen. My vision became hazy as creepy laughter echoed around me, a terrifyingly familiar voice, a voice that I loathed with my whole being. I was succumbing to the greater force the more seconds ticked by, but before my eyes could roll to the back of my mind and allow my body to crumble to the cold floor of the forest, a face so clear it managed to make me gasp appeared in front of my face.

The man’s face was simply gorgeous, tanned from the sun and defined at the jaw with a nose that few bore around these parts. His eyes were uneven but sharp, and his pretty lips formed a word I couldn’t understand just yet. My ears were ringing louder than the person’s words, but the more my eyes bore into the stranger’s terrified ones, the clearer everything once again became.

“Run!” His shrill voice was raspy as I was forcefully shoved back and I stumbled for a moment until I regained my bearings.

I could move, I could hear, I could feel.

My body trembled as that familiar cackle echoed around me once again, and I realized the gorgeous stranger was one of the Dryads who whispered in the trees. He looked more scared than I had ever felt, and with a hand reaching out for him desperately to pull him with myself, my feet kicked off before the cold darkness could touch my skin.

And then, as quickly as it came, the vision was gone. I was shaken awake by the frantic calls of my name and warm hands that gripped my arms with tremors. “Y/N! My beloved, please, Y/N. Iris, please, wake up!”

My eyes slowly fluttered open and I realized the curtains were still drawn apart to allow the moonlight inside, to honour Selene and perhaps greet her when she passed on the sky with her chariot. Even if one could hide from Zeus, Selene and Helios saw and knew everything. But my vision was soon obscured by two bright eyes, an amber nobody else I knew had as they shook in fright and bore into mine, searching for anything wrong. My body felt tense and my throat a little parched, but other than that, I was alright. I knew I had been dreaming, I knew a vision came to me, but everything felt wrong. There was something just not right about the vision, about the way it occurred, about the man that showed itself to me. It took me a few seconds to register everything I had seen, and soon, my eyes were just as glazed over with fear as Hongjoong’s. I shot up and cradled my knees to my chest as Hongjoong settled down behind me, reluctant to touch me as he exhaled shakily.

“My beloved, what is the matter?” He questioned quietly, his voice pained, “I cannot help if you don’t talk to me. Was it another night terror, Iris?”

I gulped and my arms tightened around my legs a little bit more, “A vision, Hermes, an omen. Something bad is about to happen, he’s coming for me.”

There was rustling behind me and then I felt the press of a firm chest against my back, strong arms wrapping around my middle to pull me back into the warm body of my lover. I sighed, but my muscles remained tense as I tried to shake away the lingering feelings of the vision. Somebody was out there to get me. Somebody sent by Zeus, once again, and they were close, too close for comfort. The snake almost managed to touch me, perhaps it represented the mortal or traitor, even, that Zeus had sent. I wouldn’t put it past him to send the dirtiest of those that he had once cast away to bring me back to him so that he could enslave me once again.

“Nothing bad will happen, Y/N,” Hongjoong whispered as his chin came to rest on my shoulder. He turned his head and his soft brown hair tickled my cheek in the process, “You are with me and I will do everything to keep you safe, I have promised. No, I have sworn on my immortality, I’ll never let him find you, my beloved.”

Hongjoong’s tone was soft and tender as his fingers gripped my sheer nightgown tightly, pressing his front to the back of my body as tightly as he could, his hot lips brushing against my ear almost teasingly. I gulped, remembering the fear in the Dryad’s eyes too vividly, it had felt too real. I couldn’t even tell if he was part of the vision or if he had managed to cause a rift in the Cosmos to consciously warn me of the danger that was now closer than ever before. We’ve managed to stay hidden for so long, the fear of losing my freedom again was all-consuming and terrifying.

“The Dryad was terrified,” I whispered as my eyes coated over with the remnants of the vision, hard to erase such a look from my mind, “I don’t even think he was part of my vision. There was an eagle too in my dream, Hongjoong.”

My lover’s gulp was audible and I turned my face to face his, prompting Hongjoong to lean back just a bit so that we could stare into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, a soft smile graced his lips and my heartbeat picked up just a little bit, my tense muscles finally easing and letting me become putty in Hongjoong’s comforting embrace.

“He won’t touch you.” There was a menace in his tone, warning and promising of pain, his eyes glazed over with fire for a second, memories taking him away from me, but Hongjoong quickly returned as his eyes cleared, tone more passionate than before, “If there’s anyone that can keep you captive, then that’s me because I’ll forever treat you with respect and love, care and tenderness. I’ll be your slave if that’s what you want me to be, I’ll prove to you again and again how devoted I am, I’ll treat you like a Queen if that’s who you want to be, Y/N. But most of all, I’ll run until the end of Earth for you if that means I can keep you safe, I’ll run and never stop. I’ll never step foot into Olympus ever again if that keeps you safe from those tyrants.”

“Don’t say that.” I whispered as Hongjoong’s left arm untangled from around my torso so that he could cup my cheek, “With me gone, it’s already hard for everyone to keep up. I’m making you do all the work by yourself, it’s unfair. If you’ll be gone too, I fear our fates will be dire once we are discovered.”

“I know more than he’ll ever know, Y/N, I carry all secrets and strategies. If he tries to separate us or threatens to turn us into stars, I’ll know how to corner him.” A smirk that would frighten any mortal crossed Hongjoong’s lips, “And I will threaten to throw him off if he doesn’t back off.”

I knew no matter what I said to my lover his resolve wouldn’t break, it was of no use trying to convince Hongjoong that if he went against Zeus he most certainly would perish. No matter how much you knew, not even his own weaknesses could stop the God, he was the father of us all after all, and Hongjoong was merely a deity that had more power and free will than those unlucky like me.

“I love you.” The confession bubbled past my quivering lips, and I watched Hongjoong’s Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed, eyes darkening with want and fire that was perfectly reflected in his amber irises. Our human bodies were more fragile than our godly forms, they felt everything so much deeper, so much more passionately. I couldn’t help but succumb to the fire that licked at my skin as our warm lips pressed together, hungry and never satiated with the other as Hongjoong gently grabbed my hips and manoeuvred me around until I was sat atop him. Our lips smacked together with a languid pace and our teeth clumsily clanked together whenever one of us bit the other’s bottom lip eagerly, my long fingers finding purchase in Hongjoong’s wavy strands as his calloused hands guided my core over his clothed member. The soft fabric of his sleepwear was thin and hid nothing as he grunted at the first drag of my hips forward and back, making me eagerly swallow the sounds he was making. One warm hand settled on my thigh, underneath my nightgown, and slowly bunched up the fabric until it rested just above my hips.

Desire licked at my insides as hotness spread through my body, cheeks flushed as Hongjoong’s hands traced invisible patterns into my skin, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps as they slowly slithered towards my lower back, digging into my flesh. I sighed against his mouth before pulling back to tilt his head back and press kisses against his well-defined jaw, the moonlight making his appearance godlier than he ever was in his deity form. I moaned against his simmering skin as his nails dug into the flesh of my bottom, heat pooling in my lower stomach as he pressed me down just harder on his clothed member, drawing out a moan from both of us as my bare core ground right on top of it. The wetness between my legs only became more prominent and I bit into the flesh of his neck, making Hongjoong’s head fall back as he breathed through his mouth loudly, a whine falling past them every time I sucked a little harder, every time I let him drag my core over his hard member, hot despite the fabric separating us.

“I love you.” He gasped into the silence as his hands settled on my thighs again, my hips moving on their own as the friction had started feeling too good to stop, leaving a dark patch on his light-coloured trousers, which mixed with his own precum. I pressed a long kiss against his lips as I fiddled with the hem of his trousers and hastily pulled them down, freeing his member as I eagerly aligned myself up with it, our eyes meeting before I sunk on it. Hongjoong’s grip tightened on my thighs and he whimpered as I hugged him close to my body, fingers tangling into his hair once again, offering an anchor as my walls clamped down on his length. Hongjoong was safe, home was where he was, and I never wished to be anywhere else but in his arms. He saw past my gift and looked at my soul, he appreciated me and worshipped me for who I truly was and not for why everyone seemed to want me. Just a seer, a lowly deity that was able to glance into the future and sometimes the present. Hongjoong never demanded of me to look into his future, to spy on a vision for him, he only asked me to love him back. But he didn’t have to ask, I had always known if there was any mortal or deity I could love, it was him.

The muscles of my thighs tensed as I tentatively rose before sinking back down on his dick, making Hongjoong groan as he leaned back to support himself with one hand, bracing my hip with his other as he gently guided me. I let my hands rest on his shoulders as he snapped his hips upwards and ripped a moan out of me, making me meet his thrusts eagerly as our movements synced up, the slapping sounds became louder and louder in the confinement of our bedroom as we both lost each other to the feeling of overwhelming lust and love, the desire to possess and be possessed, to belong to someone, to love and be loved.

            But life had not always been like this. For centuries and centuries, it hadn’t been like this but full of torment, pain, and demands that seemingly never came to an end. Everyone always wanted something from me, they always took and took, but they never gave back anything. I understood my role in the Cosmos, and as the bearer of messages between the mortals and Gods, I knew I had to be flexible and report whenever I was needed. I had to prioritize my purpose and place everyone above myself, it’s just how nature worked. And it had been alright, I felt most fulfilled when I was doing what my calling was, when I was guiding Gods and mortals alike, stringing them onto the right path headed towards a bright future. But I was naïve and careless, I hadn’t realized that once the knowledge of the full extent of my powers fell into the wrong hands it would be exploited, that it would turn against me and hurt me in the process. Glancing into the future, predicting silly things like the weather, and warning mortals of floods or wildfires soon turned into commands and demands of looking into the fate of a disobeying God or Goddess, into spying on those that dared turn against Zeus, of migraine after migraine when I was at my wit's end, begging to be left alone to recharge and step away from the visions.

Zeus was unforgiving and violent, greedy and desperate to control everything and everyone around him. When the word of me being a seer got to him, my freedom was stripped and I never saw the sunlight unless I had orders to deliver a message. My visions became constant because I just had to do what he told me if I didn’t want to turn into a star, and my body and mind were exhausted. I couldn’t sleep, sometimes I would get stuck in a vision for weeks on end, unable to break free, becoming a prisoner of my own mind. It was terrifying and excruciatingly painful; I couldn’t tell whether I was still alive or not. It was silly, a deity never dies as long as it has worshippers, but my soul felt so tired I wished all mortals would drop dead so that my existence would cease too.

Zeus hid me away from everyone, he lied to Hera that I decided to reside on a secluded island down amongst the humans and wished not to be spoken to or reached out to unless the message was time-bound and very important. I had been an important messenger of Hera, and my heart broke when I felt her trust and respect in me vane, but what hurt, even more, was that she never questioned her lover, that she never actually tried to look for me and see if the God was indeed saying the truth. What hurt the most, even in my deity form, was that nobody actually cared enough about me to come and rescue me from the terrorizing clutches of Zeus, that nobody loved and respected me to save me from the torment I had to go through for centuries on end. Everything hurt, even speaking and sleeping, I was nothing but a shell of what I once used to be. Zeus never cared, he just wanted the visions, he threw me around until the physical pain became so unbearable that I just had to scavenge my mind for even a trace of a vision. I became scared of my own power, of what he’d to do me if I didn’t learn how to control it better.

And then one night, or day I couldn’t tell, as I lay exhausted on the cold marble floor of the room Zeus had imprisoned me into, there was a whoosh of a breeze inside and the shatter of a vase. I had no idea what’s happened, I couldn’t see quite right and my head was pounding, covering everything in an unclear haze. But something metallic was hurled underneath my long fingers and when my index finger curiously poked against it a vision so sudden and harsh that it knocked the wind out of my lungs clouded my eyes with flashes of a handsome and somewhat familiar face, smile mischievous yet menacing, his amber eyes ablaze and raging. I had known of him, of course, I have, but we’ve never quite crossed paths, so it was bizarre to get a vision so suddenly of Hermes. It wasn’t even Zeus asking me to look into him, I wasn’t even forcing my mind and soul to connect with it, it just came by itself. Tears flooded my unseeing eyes at the feeling and I tried not to sob upon realizing that my soul was still somewhat aligned with the Cosmos despite how much I’ve forced myself to see and hear everything, having broken the order of the Universe.

And the vision of Hermes persisted for months on end, until, the marble door separating me from freedom was blown into bits and pieces and the God rushed inside with flushed cheeks and a ragged breath. He said nothing as he scooped me up in his arms, lips hot as they pressed against my cold forehead, and for the first time since my existence, my heart started beating in an uneven pattern, fingers digging into the silky fabric of his shirt as I begged him to save me. Hermes looked angry, but not at me, he looked at me with pity in his eyes but said nothing as he broke the glass of the window with the heel of his foot. I couldn’t remember much as I lost consciousness after that, but I felt the wind blow around us harshly as we fell freely, descending into a realm that was familiar yet new, a cocoon of lush green trees and springs that were clearer than the sky and sun hotter than the rays in Olympus, a place that soon became our new home.

The paths leading down the mountain range were soon after our arrival covered in cobblestones, creating an easy and clear passage for the villagers of Ano Skotina, Palaioi Poroi and Palaios Panteleimonas down to Dion, which resided at the foothill of Mount Olympus. The villagers had put in hard work once Hermes brought up his idea, and with his help, it only took the men a few weeks to construct the paths and connect the otherwise strenuous trek for the villagers if they wished to travel between the settlements. But with our arrival it seemed that the fauna and flora flourished more than before, the villagers became livelier and eagerly awaited the appearance of a rainbow which hadn’t been spotted in ages by the mortals.

Having been saved from the clutches of Zeus, I was finally regaining myself. Hongjoong stood by my side every single step of the journey and he offered a helping hand when it all became too much and too exhausting. He hid me away from all the deities and promised to settle down in a village where Zeus would never find us. We couldn’t go far from Olympus as he still had to fulfil his duties, but with me gone, Zeus had no insight into anyone, he wouldn’t know who had stolen his slave away from him.

But even if we were hiding in plain sight, we’d never be safe from him.

            On the days that the Gods and Goddesses were too busy bickering with each other, forgetting all about their worshippers, the sky seemed to be clearer and a lighter blue. On days like that it was safe for me to leave the confines of Ano Skotina and hike down to Dion with Hongjoong. I loved days like this because as much as I was scared of Zeus finding us, I loved the loudness of the bustling town, the liveliness and eagerness on the faces of mortals, and most importantly, I loved the market where we could trade fresh flowers and fruits. If the weather deemed good and the deities remained preoccupied with their selfish deeds, Hongjoong and I would follow the path down to the sea and dip in the warm but refreshing water. Poseidon wasn’t always around, busy with his errands, so, it was safe to explore the beautiful sea in his absence.

Given our origins, it took Hongjoong and me around an hour to descend from the mountainside down into the town, our talaria polished and well-kept. We hid them in Hongjoong’s satchel as soon as we neared the closest settlement to avoid being discovered by the humans. Sneaking around always brought a little sense of excitement, of my blood boiling hotter and my heart pumping faster, only heightened when Hongjoong would playfully chase me down the cobblestone-covered paths inside of Dion, heads turning our way as they watched on curiously. There wasn’t a day where boredom could threaten to kidnap me if Hongjoong was around, he’s had plenty of time to observe the earthlings and find out what would be amusing and help the time pass by faster. Not that I wished for that to happen, I cherished every second I spent next to Hongjoong, clinging to him despite our unlimited time.

Being with him had always felt right, from the very moment he lifted me in his arms to save me from Zeus. There was something about his eyes that assured me that we were right for each other, that it was written in the stars, that my suffering for so long wasn’t fruitless. He had known he had to save me when he accidentally caught a glimpse of me through the barely open door of my cell-like room, Zeus’ voice booming as he demanded a vision from me before he could send Hermes on his way to deliver his message. He had returned just days later and snuck inside my room to assess the situation, accidentally knocked over a vase when he heard someone approach the door, then fled through the open window. He couldn’t return for months; Zeus was suspicious of him and he was scared if he was caught we’d both perish. But he remained vigilant and at last came back for me.

I made sure to remain close to Hongjoong’s side as the market was packed with more people than usual this afternoon, our pinkies reaching out for each other whenever the other strayed closer. He was discussing something I couldn’t hear with a blacksmith, wondering whether he had more metal to trade with him as my attention remained on the flower stall and the lovely old lady who always had the brightest smile on her face. Her grey strands were beautiful and highlighted her age nicely, and despite her late age, her demeanour was just as youthful as a child’s.

When our eyes met, she beckoned me over with a happy look on her face. Casting Hongjoong a quick glance to make sure he hadn’t moved away yet, I made my way over to the vendor and bowed my head in greetings, “My dear! I haven’t seen you in too long, I was worried about you.”

“My apologies for worrying you, kind soul, I haven’t been able to leave my village.” I kept my answer as vague as possible as her eyebrows furrowed in slight worry. Lately, the deities were busy watching over their desperate worshippers so I couldn’t risk my safety and cover.

“That boy of yours isn’t keeping you captive, is he?” Her eyes narrowed as my cheeks flushed and I quickly shook my head, not keen on her choice of words. I hated hearing anything that had a connection to captivity, and just the thought of Hongjoong keeping me as his prisoner was disgusting and infuriating.

“He would never,” My voice was harsher than intended, “He cherishes me more than anyone ever has.”

“Good, good.” The vendor muttered as her features relaxed once again, “Would you like some pomegranates? I traded them just this morning, I hear they’ve been blessed by Aphrodite herself. Perhaps they’ll make me look youthful once again.”

The old lady giggled as she grabbed the fruit and extended her hand towards me, making my muscles tense at the mention of the deity. If it truly had been blessed by the Goddess I didn’t want to touch it, let alone eat it. She hadn’t been the kindest to me in our years of knowing each other, and despite knowing that Zeus held me in a chamber as his slave, she never said anything to anyone.

“Thank you, but I must refuse you. I do not have anything to trade it with.”  The vendor shrugged and put the fruit away, her fingers grazing against the petals of a sunflower. My eyes followed the action and I yearned to do the same, the yellowness of the flower reminded me of my own rainbow’s colour. It had been a while since I had brought upon the earth a rainbow, I missed its beauty and comforting colours.

“Your scarf seems to be made of silk,” The old lady hummed as she eyed me curiously, “I’ll give you a bouquet of sunflowers if you trade it with me, I know they are your favourite flowers.”

I gulped and gripped the scarf, pondering whether it was worth trading something of high value with something that had little value. But the piece of fabric held no sentimental value to me and autumn would be soon approaching, the old lady needed the scarf more than I did for her body was weaker than mine will ever be. And she was right, I did love sunflowers, it’s been too long since I could hold them in my hands, so, I nodded and untied the scarf from around my neck.

“You’ll seriously trade that beautiful piece for sunflowers?” The vendor next to the old lady asked with scepticism, a dark-haired woman with bushy eyebrows and greediness that wasn’t missed by the mortals either. The old lady ignored her as she tied a big bouquet together for me, happy to trade them.

“I can find many more scarves like this one, but summer is soon ending and I’ll have to wait a long time until sunflowers bloom again,” I answered with a soft smile and took the flowers after I handed over my scarf. The old lady took her time to examine it carefully and I glanced behind myself to see where Hongjoong was. He had moved on to another stall and he was surrounded by several men now as they conversed animatedly, his face bright under the sunlight and amber eyes glinting with interest.

“You have such little value for your possessions.” The other vendor grumbled, and the old lady laughed as she shook her head at the younger woman. I said nothing as I cradled the bouquet against my chest, looking down at the flowers to examine them. Its petals were soft between my fingertips and I took note that its hue was much more vibrant than the colour in my own rainbow, perhaps I could make mine more prominent too.

“The only possession I want to have is over my beloved, nothing else matters to me.”

“Oh, to be young and completely enraptured with a man.” The old lady mused with a knowing look on her face once I looked up at her, my cheeks dusted pink as I realized I had spoken my mind too freely, “I haven’t seen a pair as devoted as you two are to each other.”

“There must be some, I cannot imagine not loving with your whole soul and being—”

“Love is just a fairytale the deities made up to wrangle us around by the nose and manipulate us into doing whatever they want.” The other vendor lady snapped as she interrupted me, and my eyebrows furrowed at her harsh words. Certainly, if any deity were to hear her, her place in the Underworld would be assured and arranged to be painful. The old lady hissed and gave the other vendor an irritated look.

“Quit being so pessimistic, especially to such a young soul.” Before the other vendor could say anything else, the old lady faced me with a curious look, “You must be coming tonight to the offering, right? Zeus will bless you and then you will never part from your lover, he’s great like that.”

Zeus was anything but great, but I didn’t want to ruin the lady’s image of the deity. If I were a maiden praying to Zeus to watch over my lover, he’d rather take me as his lover than offer us his protection. Zeus was horrible like that. But the thought of him made me shiver and I tried to ignore my tensing muscles. I had no idea it was already that time of the month, Hongjoong must’ve forgotten too, otherwise, we would’ve never come down to Dion today of all days.

“I’m afraid I won’t be joining you tonight, I haven’t been feeling well these past few days.” A curious look crossed both of the ladies' eyes and I gulped nervously as I started feeling jittery. I realized I had conversed with them for too long and it was time I returned to the safety of Hongjoong, where nobody would bother me anymore or ask questions.

“You must be with child, then.” The younger vendor declared and my eyebrows furrowed as I cast a glance at her. I most certainly wasn’t with child, I would’ve felt it, but if that lie helped stop more curious questions, then I would take it.

“I am not sure, but perhaps I am,” I answered and the old lady gasped, eyes falling to my belly.

“That is great news, indeed! May the child have your peculiar hair colour and his father’s beautiful eyes.” She wished earnestly and I smiled, feeling just a little bit guilty that Hongjoong and I weren’t actually expecting a child anytime soon. But I blinked my eyes faster and looked down abashed, resisting the urge to shuffle my feet. Deciding that I should return to my lover’s side now, I bid the two vendors my sincerest goodbyes and turned around to search the crowd for Hongjoong. He was a couple of steps away, doing the same, and his eyes lit up when they found me. He had a wide grin on his lips and he waved his fingers playfully as he took off towards me, his steps bouncy and giddy. I chuckled and stopped to let him reach me first, but as I did so, a child narrowly avoided colliding with me as his warm skin brushed against my hand.

The sudden change of scenery managed to knock the wind from my lungs as I gasped and looked around, the market was eerily empty and the sun was hidden behind clouds as suddenly it started becoming darker and darker outside. White mist left my lips as I breathed through my mouth loudly, the temperature having severely dropped made me shiver in my summer gown, head whipping around as I searched for another living soul. But there was no one, not even Hongjoong, and I clenched my palms into fists when I heard the hauntingly familiar cackle once again. The Dryads weren’t here whispering again and I wondered if I’d see the young man once again, if he’d come to warn me again. But nothing happened until an eagle screamed in the distance and then a dark shadow appeared just by the entrance to the market. Its features were unrecognizable, but it towered over the gate as its silver orbs vibrated, looking wildly my way. I gasped and tried to take steps backwards, but I was trapped once again. I felt warm hands touching my arms, a muffled voice worriedly calling my name and something wet pressing against my cheek. The darkness persisted, however, and the shadow cackled once again as the eagle screamed and was suddenly plummeting down towards me, sharp claws drawn and beak parting. But before it could touch me, rip me apart, my eyes flew open.

The loudness of the market made my head thump in pain and I realized I was clutching onto Hongjoong’s shirt tightly as I tried to regain my breathing. My eyes searched to crowd frantically for the shadow, but also to make sure nobody saw my episode. Hongjoong’s arms were warm and slightly trembling as they pulled me into a tight embrace, his lips pressing against my temple as he sighed loudly, “You’re alright, I got you. Let’s head back home, my beloved.”

I nodded wordlessly as Hongjoong took my hand in his and manoeuvred us around the crowd, making sure nobody familiar ran into us so that we’d be able to leave faster. I appreciated his attentiveness as I followed after him, my fingers tightening against his as the crowd was slowly vanning out the closer we reached the end of the town. His features softened once he slowed down to let me fall in step with him, and I raised our joined hands to press a kiss against his hand, “Thank you.”

He said nothing but his amber eyes turned warmer as red swirled behind his irises, his wavy brown hair falling into his eyes and making him look boyish. I chuckled and pressed up on my tiptoes to steal a kiss from Hongjoong, making his eyes widen as a man had just passed us on his horse, his lips widening into an amused smile at our display of affection. I knew my lover was blushing red when he turned his head away, but he squeezed my hand once to let me know he appreciated the gesture, “I saw him again, the shadow, the darkness, the eagle. You know it’s Zeu—”

“Do not speak his name.” Hongjoong cut me off roughly, all previous warmth gone from his features as he faced me abruptly, “Don’t say it, Y/N, I hate it when you do. I hate him, and everything he’s done to you. You are safe with me and nothing will happen to you, I have sworn and I will keep swearing.”

“I know,” I muttered, gulping nervously as I averted my eyes, “but the visions never lie, my love, he’s close, I am not safe anymore.”

I tried not to yelp when suddenly two warm palms cradled my cheeks and yanked me close to Hongjoong’s face, his ablaze eyes boring into mine with fury and determination, “You are mine and if anyone, mortal or deity, touches you, I will burn them until nothing’s left of them. You have suffered enough, I will not let anyone take advantage of you ever again, Iris, it’s over.”

My eyes fluttered closed as my heart thumped wildly, and I leaned forward to press a lasting kiss against Hongjoong’s lips, who pressed his body incredibly close to mine, “You wear my petasos, my beloved, everyone knows you’re mine. Everyone knows what will happen to them if they try to claim you, I won’t allow it anymore.”

His voice was deeper as he spoke up once our lips weren’t pressing against each other and I licked my lips as I nodded, smoothing out the creases between his eyebrows. A silly thought came to mind as Hongjoong’s eyes searched my face and I chuckled as I leaned so close my lips brushed against his when I spoke again, “The vendor ladies think I am with child.”

Hongjoong’s breath stuttered and his pupils dilated as one of his hands grabbed my hips, pressing my body painfully so into his, “Perhaps you should be with child, my beloved.”

“Do you want that?” I asked in a whisper, throat feeling dry as I tried to ignore the fire spreading through my body. This greedy little human body could be so lustful.

“Yes, I want you full of my seed and belly round and pretty.” Hongjoong’s voice was deep as he answered and I had to take a second to compose myself, trying to be the bigger person right now. It wouldn’t be the first time things got a little bit out of hand while we were in public, and I didn’t want something as mortifying to happen again. Last time we were lucky the unfortunate soul who saw us in a scandalous predicament had been an older lady and her husband, both understanding and giggling as they rushed away from the scene. Truthfully, we could’ve picked a more secluded spot and the back of a bar that was often frequented.

“We’re being indecent, Hongjoong.”

“Then let me take you home and show you just how much I want you to carry our child.”

“Hongjoong.”

            One of us had to attend the offering, it was inevitable, and since nobody knew of my location but with Hermes still around, it wasn’t a question that it would be him who would descent to Dion tonight and bring a small flower crown made from my sunflowers and the neighbour’s weeds as his own offering. As a deity, we didn’t have to attend such worshipping customs, but since we were disguising ourselves as mortals it would look suspicious if we didn’t tag along from time to time. I never showed my face around when they were bringing offerings to Zeus as he often liked to disguise himself and come down, watch his loyal followers, and even take maidens to bed and spread his bloodline, but when they would show gratitude for Isis, I made sure to tag along. A deity recognized a deity even in disguise, and despite her catching me at her altar more than once, she never said anything. She could feel my pain, she could see past my smile and looked into my battered soul. She was sensitive and kind, instead of bringing me to Zeus, she blessed me and healed my wounds so that nothing could hurt me so horrendously ever again.

Once we had gotten back from Dion, Hongjoong was busy showing me just how much he really wanted me to carry our child, very reluctant to leave the bed to get ready for the night. I knew he didn’t want to go, he knew I didn’t want to be left alone tonight out of all nights, but we also both knew that we did not have a choice. Deities rarely had a choice, the greater good just always seemed to call out to us. But still, I helped him bathe and dress up, I cooked him a warm dinner and braided little strands of his soft hair while he was busy chiselling his talaria, his petasos already pristine, the leather smelling fresh and feeling soft under the skin.

“Are you certain I must go?” Hongjoong asked with a sigh once he was done with his talaria, eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me. I ran my fingers through his hair and ruffled the strands that fell into his eyes.

“Yes, my love, you must.” I hummed quietly and Hongjoong sighed long, “We hadn’t attended the offerings in a while, the townsfolk will get suspicious of us at this rate and I quite like this place.”

“I like it here too, it’s serene.” He hummed absentmindedly and I stepped back to let him wear his winged sandals, raising to his feet to test out their agility. He was fast, as always, in good shape and ready to tackle the night’s challenges. I smiled at him proudly as he came to stand in front of me, hands settling on my hips as he licked his lips and looked down at my mouth, “If anything feels wrong, go over to Mr. Do, he will keep you company.”

“I don’t think poor old Mr. Do will be able to tackle a god like Zeus if he shows up,” I said with a chuckle as I circled my arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders, standing on my tiptoes to reach his face better. He chuckled as his eyes searched my face, the amber swirling as fear made its way shown, “I will be alright, Hongjoong, don’t you worry.”

“Of course you will be.” He answered with a scoff as if Zeus showing up was such an impossible feat, “And when I return, I will show you once again just how eager I am to have you with child, to spend the rest of my eternity with you and our son or daughter. I want them to have your kindness and faith, and I want them to have my determination and strength.”

“Aren’t you thinking a bit far ahead, my love?” I asked with a snicker as Hongjoong pouted and shook his head.

“Of course I’m not, my beloved, the seed has been planted, we both felt it.” Hongjoong lowered his face and I watched as his lips parted, “The shift in the Universe has happened, the stars aligned for our love once again, Y/N.”

“We’ve been blessed.” I whispered and tangled my fingers in the hair at his nape, pushing Hongjoong’s face closer to mine, “I am fully yours now.”

“You’ve always been fully mine,” Hongjoong’s voice dropped as his fingers dug into my skin through the fabric of my gown, “only mine.”

I hummed and leaned my head back as his warm lips pressed against mine, instantly eager as they pressed together firmly and forcefully, asking me to part my lips for him. Hongjoong moaned when my tongue dragged against his, coaxing him in deeper as our saliva mixed and tongues brushed together, lighting my skin on fire. My heart pumped faster and my skin jittered, hushed voices and hazy orbs fluttering behind my eyes as a vision threatened to kidnap me from this moment. But I stopped it, I wanted to enjoy the touch of my lover, the sounds of my lover, as I knew the darkness would be back if I were to succumb to the greater force.

Our pace was languid as Hongjoong dragged each kiss out, sucking on my bottom lip before he’d dive right back in, sucking on my tongue too and making me whimper as my hand found an anchor in his nape, holding him as if I were afraid he’d pull back too soon. But he didn’t, he soaked up in the sounds and only kissed me more desperately, pulling back for air when it became too much for our human bodies. I was breathing hard and Hongjoong struggled to even out his pants, our foreheads pressing together as he cleared his throat once and then twice. He licked his lips and then pursed them, fingers twitching as he raised his hands to cup my cheeks, “I wish to return earlier tonight, I’m not done with you yet, Y/N. I have figured if I go earlier and stay for a shorter amount of time it should be fine, Zeus will want me to report back to him so I’ll try to make my journey as fast as possible.”

“I’ll be right here so don’t rush yourself, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said worriedly as we untangled from each other, I tried to smooth out the knots I created in Hongjoong’s hair. His outfit remained spotless, the black fabric tight and secure around his strong and well-built body, hugging him snuggly in places that wouldn’t restrict his movement.

“I’m too restless to remain until the end of the festivity either way,” Hongjoong shrugged and kissed my cheek before he went to grab his petasos, “Go to Mr. Do if anything feels even a little bit wrong.”

“I will, I promise.” I smiled reassuringly as my lover headed for the front door, pausing to turn back around with a worrisome look on his face. I knew he was reluctant to go, but he had no choice. One of us had to go and it was him, it was always him, he’d have to report back to Olympus either way and he was right, the quicker he got over with everything, the faster he could return to me. But as soon as the door closed behind me and I was left alone in our safe abode, dark visions clouded my eyes and sent me tumbling to the floor.

            The evening had been harsh to me, the visions seemed to turn only darker as the hours passed by, taunting me. It felt as if I wasn’t in control anymore, as if it was someone else controlling what I saw. My heart pumped fast and my head thumped wildly making my ears ring, and I felt boneless as I tried to stand from the chair I managed to drag myself into. My sight was hazy as I felt around the table for the glass of spring water Hongjoong and I had collected earlier this day, but I failed to reach the cool glass and thus gave up as a harsh wave of nausea almost made me gag. I had never reacted to my abilities so harshly, I couldn’t determine whether it was worrisome or not that my body was having such visceral reactions to the darkness that seemed to linger in the corner of my eyes.

I knew that I was alone in the house and that my visions were tricking me into believing someone was watching me from the shadows, candles unlit as I found the task too strenuous to do with my current state. It all felt too real, it made me scared of how easily my body was succumbing to the terror-filled memories that followed my bodily reactions. It wasn’t the first time my body threatened to shut down, but it’s been far too long since I had felt so sick. It made me remember my captivity and everything I had to endure at Zeus’ hands when he pushed my body over the limit and forced me to become nothing but a vessel that relayed the visions of a seer. I was scared because Hongjoong wasn’t here and because I couldn’t figure out just exactly what was triggering this reaction. All of Isis’ blessings seemed futile all of a sudden, and I found myself wondering whether I could ask the Goddess for guidance and help in dire need, a beckon of light to help me survive until Hongjoong returned and figured out a way to stop my suffering.

But I remembered that Mr. Do was a healer of sorts, a little too old and grumpy, but the villagers loved him and trusted him with their lives countless times before, I have seen it firsthand. Hongjoong and he seemed to have a mutual respect and a deeper understanding of the other’s force that I failed to see and sense. And despite every muscle and joint in my body protesting when I finally pushed myself up into a standing position, I found Hongjoong’s deep trust in the old man a reassuring thought that pushed me to take action and bring myself to the old man’s doorstep, perhaps he knew how to fix this. I had barely reached the front door of my house when my muscles locked up as if they sensed danger, my skin tingling in a way only around another deity it did. But I was alone inside the house, it made no sense, perhaps my seer abilities became uncontrollable and started lashing out in peculiar ways.

I swung the door open, finding the task difficult as my body vehemently tried to disobey my mind’s commands, and despite the haze that clouded my sight, Mr. Do’s small frame not even a few steps away was unmistakable. I hadn’t noticed, but the wind was howling as it bent the weaker branches of trees in odd ways and not one candle was lit inside the neighbouring huts. Cold darkness wrapped around us and I shuddered as it bit at my skin mercilessly, “Mr. Do?”

My voice sounded breathless and pained and my eyebrows furrowed as the older man stepped closer so that I could see him clearly, “Oh, you look sickly, my dear. Let’s head inside.”

I couldn’t find it in myself to object and stepped back inside my house as Mr. Do followed, his height shorter than my lover’s. It seemed to be relatively warmer inside the house, but I still shuddered as I brought the shawl tighter around my shoulders, pressing my nose against the fabric as it smelled like Hongjoong. It brought little comfort, but I relished in it as I willed my sight to clear, at least that little if nothing else seemed to be right with me. Mr. Do seemed curious as his eyes searched the place and I watched him with slight confusion, wondering if it’s been too long since he’d stepped inside our house. But it looked as it always did, the interior hadn’t changed since last week when Hongjoong insisted on having the old man over for dinner as a payment for his kindness after he healed Hongjoong’s broken fingers. It was a freak accident; one he couldn’t heal down here unless he wanted to be caught by the mortals.

“What is bothering you, my dear?” The warm smile felt wrong on Mr. Do’s face, he was someone who never smiled nor showed affection, his face a mask of coldness and uninterest. He never used nicknames and he had never once in his life before directly addressed me. Mr. Do seemed to be afraid to say my name for some reason and he always brought pastries whenever there was a rainbow in the sky, that’s the most emotion he had ever shown. That’s how I knew he didn’t completely mistrust me or hate me. This man standing in front of me was not Mr. Do. But it was too late now, I had already welcomed him inside. I quickly realized that despite his disguise, he couldn’t hide his godly aura, the faint glow around his body or the respect it demanded.

“Why are you here?” Despite my voice being faint, it carried conviction, and braveness, “What do you want?”

“My little seer back.” The man disguised as Mr. Do chuckled and walked further inside the house, walking around as he touched vases and ornaments that clearly belonged to Hermes, “You must understand my utter shock when I found out she was gone. My utter anger and annoyance when I searched for her relentlessly and she was just gone as if swallowed by the earth itself. I assumed it was Hades at first, we know how he likes to play me and taunt me, but when I found him gone from his kingdom and meddling with humans from far away times, I realized something more peculiar had happened.”

I didn’t dare speak up as Zeus walked closer, the face of Mr. Do scrunching up as he tsked, “Imagine my utter confusion and rage when I find out Hermes, my precious messenger and guide, decided to settle amongst the mortals. Not only did I lose my seer, but my messenger too.”

“Hermes never stopped serving you.” My voice was harsh as I willed the bile down my throat and blinked my eyes quickly to try and get rid of the haze, which was very possibly induced by Zeus himself. I understood why my body lashed out like this, it sensed danger and it was warning me. But it was too late now, I had walked myself into Zeus’ trap.

“He didn’t, you are right, little seer, but he also started slacking off.” He scoffed and I gulped as I remained put, my feet frozen to the floor, “You must imagine I assumed he was frolicking with the mortals at first, but then certain inaccuracies just stopped making sense, you see. I have other means of looking into my little deities, Iris, I don’t need you—”

“Then why did you keep me for so long?” My voice raised as my sight finally cleared and I was able to glare at Mr. Do’s serene face, fire and anger replacing my fear as I stared the God down, “If you don’t need me, why did you subject me to so much strenuous work and pain? Why did you force me to seek and seek without break, to bend myself and ruin who I once was?”

“The secret to being a deity is so simple, my little seer,” Zeus’ voice was quiet as he walked even closer, eyebrows slightly furrowed, “We are just like these mortals that worship us, we are greedy and selfish and we take without consideration, we possess and we demand, we punish and we slay, so, what sets us apart from them?”

“Immortality, lack of morals and care of those around us,” I whispered, unable to gulp down the lump in my throat anymore as my heart raced faster, ears starting to ring once again.

“Power, abilities that mortals will never have, is what sets us apart, Iris—or should I call you Y/N, now?” Mr. Do chuckled but his voice sounded distorted. My muscles tensed when his short frame suddenly grew taller, towering over me menacingly, “This is why you are such an insignificant deity to most, you are too soft, you love and want to be loved. You wish to belong to someone and to possess someone, it makes you weak. You act more like a mortal than a Goddess.”

“I never felt like I belonged in Olympus,” My face became hard as my eyes narrowed, unafraid to speak my mind for once. A surge of anger pushed me to speak my mind, to stand up for myself and demand the respect I was never given, “I was always pushed away by my kin, made fun of and ostracized. Your own lovely wife made me a slave of hers, and then you. You look down on me and judge me, but you wish to possess just as much as I do, if not more.”

The God remained silent as his jaw ticked and Mr. Do’s face formed into an unfamiliar shape, features mixing with familiar faces, but still unknown. It didn’t stop shifting as Zeus’ eyes bore into mine and it felt like the air was ripped from my lungs as they started squeezing in on itself, choking me as I fell to the side, clutching onto the table tightly.

“I want to punish you direly for thinking you could abandon your ruler, Iris, I really do wish.” His voice was a dark hiss as I tried to breathe, but couldn’t, “But you’re too precious to be turned into foam or a star, Hermes, however, I know just the perfect way to make him suffer for his insubordination.”

My eyes widened at the mention of Hongjoong and I tried to speak, but I couldn’t as dark spots started colouring my vision. I tried to object and scream, but no word left my mouth as I scrapped at my throat in despair while Zeus watched on with an amused expression. He loved seeing his toys fret and beg for mercy, he loved feeling like the King he was, able to rule over everyone and decide everyone’s fate. But before my misery could continue, the door of the house was slammed open and loud panting filled the house.

“I forgot my satchel—” Hongjoong’s breathless words caught in his throat as suddenly the airflow was back in my lungs and I started coughing loudly as my knees gave out and sent me tumbling to the floor. Hongjoong was by my side in an instant, body hot and skin sizzling as he grabbed my cheeks and forced my head up. His amber eyes were almost fully red as he searched for visible injuries and his jaw ticked as he turned his head to face Zeus. He had a vicious look in his eyes and he almost but spat in front of the God as his voice thundered in the confined space, “What are you doing here?!”

“I came for what’s mine—” The laugh that left Hongjoong’s mouth was guttural and it made me shiver as my frantic eyes looked at my lover with despair, begging him to remain level-headed so that he wouldn’t ruin his chances of survival furthermore.

“What’s yours?” Hongjoong spat, eyes falling on me once again to make sure I was alright. He gulped as he cradled my cheeks and I opened my mouth to beg him to stop and walk away, but lips pressed against mine firmly before I was staring back into his wild amber eyes once again. He had made up his mind, and I could do nothing to convince him to stop, to think through whatever action he took next. He was here to protect me and if that meant he’d lose his life in the process, he didn’t care. He had sworn to protect me and I knew he’d do no less than that, “Enlighten me, Zeus, what’s yours again?”

The God seemed appalled by the way Hongjoong spoke to him, face contorting into disgust as he watched my quivering form and Hongjoong’s protective stance as he stood up and shielded me from the God’s furious eyes, “Iris is what’s mine, you fool. I will feed you to Cerberus if you utter one more word—”

But Hongjoong was reckless and he didn’t care as he threw his head back to laugh loudly, hysterically, and I clutched the trousers at his ankle and yanked on them to get him to stop, but he was gone, far gone. He’d go to unimaginable lengths to protect what was his and not even his lover could stop him anymore.

“Cerberus would hack me back up if he were to swallow me, don’t be foolish you old man.” Hongjoong tsked as if he was scrutinizing a child and my heart raced in fear for him, “Besides, Hades likes me too much to let me perish, after all, I make his job a lot easier with all the souls that I carry for him to the gates of the Underworld.”

Zeus hissed and stepped closer, hands balling up into fists. I took notice of the wind picking up frighteningly so outside, to the point it rattled the hinges of the windows, and I could only pray the other villagers wouldn’t be affected by Zeus’ wrath. They haven’t been anything but kind and loving to us, I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to them.

“Before you destroy this lovely village,” Hongjoong seemed to be thinking the same as he smirked, the look on his face eerie as red swarmed around in his dark irises, overshadowing its beautiful caramel hue, “I must inform you that I have claimed Iris and she has claimed me, so you cannot touch neither one of us, you old fool.”

My cheeks heated despite the predicament and I gulped when deafening silence followed, the wind suddenly disappearing. My heart raced in my chest and it felt like it had ascended into my throat as I felt Hongjoong’s hands around my forearms, helping me up to stand next to him. His smirk remained frightening to any mortal, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told me that he was in control, that the odds were for once in our favour as he smoothed my hair down for me, “And since you are the one that loves to make up foolish rules for your peasants to follow, do I need to remind you what it means when a deity claims someone?”

Zeus just gulped, eyes darting between me and Hongjoong, the veins underneath his skin lightning as they travelled, his eyes turning a misty grey. No one knew Zeus’ real face, but I had come close to seeing it more than once, it was ugly. It reflected the person he was on the inside; he was ugly through and through, no wonder he chose to disguise himself even between his own kin, “I can still use her abilities to my liking, Hermes, that’s not what claiming one enthrals.”

“Oh, does it not now?” Hongjoong chuckled and I felt an arm sneak around my hips until his palm pressed flatly against my belly, his bottom lip between his teeth as raised an eyebrow mockingly, “Even if the seed had been planted to bring forth a new life?”

“She’s pregnant?” Zeus’ voice raised octaves as his eyes widened comically and the fundament of the house shook as I shuddered, clutching onto Hongjoong’s arm for stability. My skin was cold and I was shivering, but Hongjoong remained like a pilar by my side, supporting me and offering me braveness.

“She is pregnant with my child, yes.” Hongjoong’s smirk spread into a wide grin that made him look crazed as his amber eyes simmered in the darkness and the ground shook again. I looked at Zeus reluctantly as I let my hand rest above Hongjoong’s, our fingers tangling together as we held onto my belly. Zeus could feel it too, the shift in the Universe and the change in the alignment of the stars, he knew Hermes and I were fated to be together; he knew if he went against the wishes of the Cosmos, it would be him paying the price and not us. I couldn’t help but huff as I suddenly felt all tension leave my muscles, serenity infusing my brain and body like never before. Hongjoong, too, knew we were safe when his offensive stance relaxed and he stood tall in contentment.

“You are both traitors.” Zeus hissed, but there was no force in his voice, only defeat and despair, “And if I can’t make you pay, the Cosmos will find ways to make you suffer for what you’ve done.”

“Is that what you say to all the mistresses you keep?” My tone was cold and unforgiving, it shocked both Hongjoong and Zeus, “I wish you nothing but an eternity of suffering and misfortune, I wish that all of your children turn on you and bring your demise like you had brought your own father’s, Zeus.”

“Did you just curse me?” His voice boomed as Hongjoong threw his head back and started cackling loudly, bringing a small smile to my lips as I chuckled.

“I am no witch, Zeus, but I believe the Cosmos works in peculiar ways.” I stopped to take a breath, to finally say what I always wished to tell him, “And just because you are supreme to all of us, it doesn’t mean you are invincible. The Cosmos doesn’t differentiate in kind.”

Somewhere in the distance, a bolt of lightning struck and a deafening roar travelled through the forest as Zeus turned into nothing but dust and charged energy, lighting our house in blinding light for a second until everything was covered in darkness and silence. I remained frozen as Hongjoong started giggling, cradling my face as he grinned at me widely, “You are the most breathtaking creature I have ever had the luck to come across, my beloved.”

“I love you too, Hongjoong.” I chuckled and let him kiss me messily before he pulled back and giggled again, unable to contain the giddiness our small victory brought upon the both of us.

“Do you think I still have to report back to him tonight?” The question made me laugh as I threw my arms around his torso and pressed my body against his, revelling in his comforting warmth as I nuzzled my nose against his neck. Hongjoong pressed a chaste kiss against the crown of my head and I melted into his arms, feeling safe and like a weight had been lifted from my chest. We would be alright for the time being, the child would be safe down between the mortals and Zeus would leave us alone for now. I couldn’t tell what the future had in store for us, at least not until a vision came to me, but I didn’t care as long as Hongjoong was by my side.

The Cosmos gifted those deserving and took from those undeserving.

❱❱ Next star

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[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny: First official chapter

The busy hospital was on its last leg. Nurses and interns were scattered, running around like mice.

Sounds of trauma care patients and emergency care patients alarms were constantly ringing.

In the midst of it all, one calm collected doctor cared tenderly for each patient.

He, was Danny Fenton, who used to be known for having two crazy ghost enthusiasts for parents. He still loved his parents despite how hard it was growing up as half ghost.

Jazz had told them a long time ago and they had ignored it for the most part. Like that side of him didn't exist.

It had hurt at the time but Danny had managed to move past it. After successfully securing his position as ghost king (on accident) he put his newfound authority to good use making the ghosts swear a vow to behave.

A ghost vow is a big deal, which is why Danny swore a vow in return acknowledging them, if ever a ghost were in danger he would help them.

After the lack of ghost attacks Danny found he had next to nothing to do. His only hobby outside of playing video games had been ghost fighting. He hadn't realized how used to it he had gotten.

Danny hadn't even picked the college he wanted to go to yet.

Danny approached the Nasty Burger, his last refuge.

That's when he noticed a man who seemed a little out of it. The man stumbled making Danny wonder if he was drunk.

Danny turned to go inside when the man collapsed. Danny rushed over to the man and rolled him on his back. He checked for a pulse but couldn't find one.

Of course he wasn't exactly medically trained.

Danny dialed nine-one-one and started to perform CPR as best he could.

He explained to the operator clearly the situation and the ambulance came in no time.

Later that night Danny was processing the events in his head and instead of feeling scared or nervous he felt excited.

He was thrilled to have something to get his blood pumping again. Which is why he applied for med school. He studied hard, using all the time he had to memorize all the medical information that he could.

After graduation he interned at Amity Parks local hospital before moving up his position to resident.

Only a week after getting his new position he was forced to leave the hospital. It was closing because of a lack of funding.

"Please sir! What about the staff or the patients?"

The head of the medical board shook his head.

"Dr. Fenton, this hospital runs on little to nothing to begin with, we are lucky to have even made it this far. The patients will be transfered and the staff, relocated"

Danny furrowed his brows in concern.

"Don't worry Dr. Fenton, your quite literally the best we've seen walk these halls, your sure to get a good recommendation"

Danny clenched his fist.

"What are my options?" He asked.

The board looked at his sheet, flipping several until he found the right one on his clipboard.

"You said you wanted to work at a busy hospital right?"

Danny nodded yes.

"There aren't too many around here, the busiest hospital I can think of belongs to a crime ridden city a bit far  from here." He said.

"Gotham City"

Danny's breath hitched. He had heard about Gotham before. It was notorious for its villains.

Despite that, it was alluring.

"There! Send me to Gothams hospital!" He said suddenly and eagerly.

"Okay, if you say so. Do us all a favor and survive alright"

Danny laughed, "sure, I'll do my best. No promises though"

Just like that Danny packed up moved to Gotham.

He had little time to research Gotham before hand but he had heard several mutters in passing of a place called Crime Alley, a strange nickname for sure.

Danny was sure that this place would either be completely clean due to police intervention or incredibly overrun.

Danny signed a lease at the Shirley Apartments.

"Are you sure about this young man" the desk lady asked him.

He smiled kindly.

"Yes I am, I've heard the rumors and have weighed the risk. In the end it might be helpful to know just how my patients love to receive the injuries they do"

The lady sighed.

"That's right, you said your a doctor. Be careful out there, any talent in Gotham is either warped by a villain or destroyed"

Danny was a little startled by the warning, apparently there was even more to Gotham than he knew.

"I'm sorry I forgot to ask for your name"

"Didn't give one, in Gotham it's best to remain anonymous"

Danny blinked a little surprised.

"It's that dangerous, well I'll take your word for it then, thank you miss" he said as he took the key from her.

He had been able to store the old car his dad had given to him in a locked garage. He wasn't sure how well it would hold up but there was only so much he could do against humans.

Ghost powers had little, of any, effect on humans when it came to offense. Defensively they were pretty great to have.

He had only brought five boxes with him, no furniture. Back in Amity he had been busy studying and had brushed aside buying furniture.

Unfortunately that meant he had no bed.

Danny was glad to have found a beaten up wardrobe. It was missing it's doors and was leaning to the side, even so Danny was able to fix it and hang his clothes up in it.

He grabbed one of the boxes and smiled warmly when he saw a Fenton Emergency pack inside.

His mom must've stuffed it there when he was looking, lucky for him it had a sleeping bag.

An air mattress would've been nice too, but it's the thought that counts.

Danny safely stored his two favorite pictures. One of him with his family and one with his friends.

They were hidden just in case someone decided to break in, not that there would be much to find anyway but it never hurt to be careful.

Danny went to sleep soon after despite the sounds of the city.

Danny woke up feeling refreshed. He grabbed his bags and hopped in his car.

Danny hadn't realized how busy Gothams hospital actually was. Danny pulled into Gotham General and as soon as he was in his scrubs and coat he was dragged into the frey.

"We need a doctor over here!" Someone called just as Danny had finished with a patient.

Despite having to run around all day Danny wasn't tired, his ghost half supplied him energy after his human side ran dry.

All in all Danny first day on the job was hectic and he had worked for fourteen hours.

Once he was back in his apartment Danny set up a table that he had pre ordered online.

Then he got to work. According to his knowledge, most of his patients had suffered from some kind of attack or other.

Most of the heavy hitters were villains named Joker, Penguin and two face.

The riddler was taken care of, Poison Ivy had been rehabilitated and Harley Quinn had broken free from Jokers choke hold on her.

There was also the less obvious villains, like the business man lex Luther.

Lex Luther was shady at best, while no one could get hard evidence on him most people knew to be wary.

But just being informed didn't stop them from falling into his traps.

Lately Bruce had done official business with Lex Luther, which made him a suspicious person whom Danny had decided to keep tabs on, he was wary of the rich and for good reasons.

The cork board above Danny table has a litter of documents and pictured pined by red string. The players who were out of the game were crossed off.

Then there were the vigilantes. A few of them had been known to be rough, a necessary violence.

Still they seemed to have little awareness of what their little battles did to other people. Because many people came in for minor injuries due to being caught in the crossfire.

Which meant Danny had to find a way to keep everybody in line so patients would decrease in number. Danny let himself sleep for four hours before returning to the hospital.

"Oh my gosh, Doctor Fenton is still here" one nurse whispered. It had been a full day and half, Danny was running on his ghost half that seemed to keep replenishing itself due to the toxic air of Gotham. A positive side effect.

"How does he never get tired?"

"Maybe he's superhuman" one girl cracked. They noticed as he rushed by them to get to another patient.

"He's quite handsome too" one said wistfully, "but who wants a husband that works all the time"

Danny noticed the next patient seemed tense and he kept screaming for his daughter.

Danny whispered in the man's ear and put a hand on his forehead. He had used a ghost technique he learned from Nocturne and the man calmed down.

The other doctors were impressed as they worked to care for the man's injuries.

Finally the head of the unit noticed Danny and after reviewing his chart had forced him to go home.

"I don't feel fatigued at all sir, I promise I am not compromised. I can care for the patients"

The head wasn't having any of it.

"Above all your health is just as important as the patients we care for. For them to get healthy, you have to be healthy. Go home Dr.Fenton, you can come back after you get at least ten hours of sleep."

Danny wanted to argue but he knew the head was right.

"Yes sir" he said before changing into civilian clothes and leaving the hospital.

Now that he was out of a hospital setting things like hunger started to appear.

Maybe he had been to focused to notice how hungry he had been.

Danny blearily noticed a fast food place. His instincts told him the food would be greasy and way too unhealthy.

Mmm, comfort food.

The nostalgia fought with his doctoral instincts and won. All Danny wanted was to sit in a booth and eat some greasy food.

Danny ordered the double cheeseburger with bacon with a side of ten pieces chicken nuggets and large order of fries.

Waiting, even for five minutes, was starting to make Danny ravenous. As soon as he got his food he sat down and started gorging himself.

It was pretty good food for a little fast food place in the world's worst city.

Danny liked the tenderness and crispiness of the burger, the cheese was melted just right too.

Danny dipped his nuggets in sweet n' sour sauce while fighting the urge to kick his legs like a happy little kid.

As Danny left the restraint he saw an alert on his phone for a villain attack and rushed to the scene.

To his satisfaction the culprits were already being hauled away in police custody. They were just small fries, not of them appeared connected to a big player, so Danny was free to shut them out of his mind.

Which is exactly what he did. Danny drove back to his apartment and let out a sigh of relief.

That's when he noticed his door was slightly ajar.

His guard was up immediately. Danny stepped inside cautiously. He was relieved when everything appeared untouched but the scare had sent him a trip to get stronger locks.

On his way back to his car from the store he heard sound of a glass bottle breaking in a nearby alley. It was small alley, from what Danny could tell it was also a dead end alley.

Taking a risk Danny stepped in and chills went down his spine when he heard labored breathing.

Danny rushed over and froze at what he saw.

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 3 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which after everything you gave, you're not sure if you're going to keep going. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 3 ! final part for my first two works, I'm proud of how it came out

taglist: @girlidekanymore @sunflower-tia @nicolesainz @chilwellspulisic @anotherfan07

inspired by taylor swift's songs.

The feeling of freshness —the wonderful smells, the damp feel of leaves falling down the trees, the breeze and the rain on your skin. The sound of rain is wonderful: not just between a hard roof and leaves, but you can hear it on different types of trees and hedges.

The flowers, which look like they were painted by Monet himself, have colours so rich that no one can even attempt to imitate them. From the smallest weed to the grandest stalk, they are all beautiful in your eyes.

Around you are your friends; some are talking or enjoying the countryside air. You had decided to take me on a little vacation before returning to the routine of the busy city of London.

No distractions, no disturbances, especially without him. After seeing how Mason smiled at that blonde standing next to him and Debbie's painful look in the boat, you knew all these years were in vain.

The moments when you took care of him after he vomited from all the alcohol he had consumed at the party, when you covered him so he could go on dates with different girls and other things you had done for him.

The last time Mason saw you still burned in the back of your mind, the little stolen glances he gave you while you were wearing a pink t-shirt, the one that you had left back in a drawer in the Mount's house. Stacey had told you the t-shirt drove him crazy.

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t understand why nothing went your way. Was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the gulf?

—Babes, how could you ever think it's your fault? Clearly, he is out of his mind. —Clara talked. You and your friends were sitting on the porch in the extensive field that belonged to your grandparents.

Then Adelaida, who was resting her head on your lap, suddenly stood up, leaning on one elbow and said: —Please don't think it's your fault, you would be lowering yourself to his level.

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you... even your mother. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the heartbreak that felt it was never-ending. 

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling that pulled you to another person, that proved he was the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know he wasn’t. 

Even though you were angry at him, you knew that when you saw him you would act like a little girl, crazy in love.

On the other side, Mason was in the kitchen, picking at the leftover food on the tabletop as everyone else was in the living room. His mother walked into the kitchen as he took a bite of little meatballs that looked delicious and she laughed at the pieces of meat that had fallen onto the kitchen counter.

—That’s definitely not the way to eat —she smirked knowing his son wasn't the type of person to sit down and eat properly.

—But you love me anyways, mom. —Mason flashed his puppy eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. It had been a long year for Mason. He stopped turning to family events when he knew you would be there.

—Mason Tony Mount, I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself-

—Mom. —Mason sighed. —Don't start this whole speech about her, please.

—Dear, I don’t even need to say her name... it will always be her. —She smiled, sadly, as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

—She's happy, from what I heard. —he scoffed again.

—So then you know you’re being an ass, right?

Mason's eyes widened at his mother's question but she just laughed and waved him off. —After all the years she spent after you, dear, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.

That sentence shattered his heart. You weren't the little girl who ran behind him in search of attention anymore, you were a woman with maturity, feelings and beauty.

—But what if I’m not happy? —he asked his mum. Debbie felt her heart clench at his words, it was never good for a mother when they saw their son being at his lowest.

—Do you love her?

There was no answer.

—See, that would be very cruel. Mase... either you love her or you’re jealous. Just remember that she's a second daughter to me and I know her like the palm of my hand. I'm certain that she’s fragile when it comes to you.

After a week in the countryside with your friends, you were back in the city, at a party the english players were throwing in celebration of their team winning the last few games.

Every time he looks at you, it’s making him go mad. It surprises him how much influence you have on his night out. He actually believed he could handle it, seeing you after a while. Normally he’s the one who takes you to the football after-parties because you begged him like crazy. But not this time.

Did you wear a white dress on purpose tonight? He doesn’t know. You look beautiful and he wishes he had the nerve to tell you how great white looks on you. He remembers the time you almost kiss in the box, you in the white sweatshirt with his number. The guy talking to you on your right was Foden. Did you wear it for him? He doesn’t believe that, he doesn’t think he deserves that. 

Mason sighs. This is one of the hardest nights in his life. He shouldn’t have messed it up. If he didn’t follow what Ben said to him, he would probably be the one talking to you. Fucking Ben.

At the same time, you don’t know what’s bothering Mason. You thought he would be coming to the afterparty with Daphne, but his friends confirmed that he forgot her quickly. He didn't even kiss her. Neither touch her.

It surprised you, you were afraid he would show up with that beautiful model. A part of you felt really happy.

You feel his eyes burning into you while you talk to Foden. You quickly take the cocktail out of Phil's hands, while thanking him in the meantime. He shrugs it off. 

—What’s up with you? —He asks you after you take a few sips. 

—What do you mean? —You ask him. Is he noticing your bad mood? You tried hiding it, but maybe you failed.

—You seem distracted. Did something happen? —he goes on. You take a sip of your cocktail, thinking about your response. Could it be a bad plan to tell him about Mase? They’re friends after all. But on the other hand, it would be nice to talk about it to someone. 

—It’s him, isn’t it? —Foden answers his own question. You didn’t even realize you were looking at Mason until Phil spoke. You nod towards him, —Let’s go outside.

Then, you're sitting on a wooden bench outside. The white dress doesn’t give you much warmth, so you embarrassingly start to shiver. Before you can notice it, Phil drapes his jacket around your shoulders. 

—Fuck... —he says, regretting. —I knew it would be a bad plan to invite you. —Mutters softly, —I thought it was a good idea to make you feel better, now I just got Mount to get angry at you.

You laughed, thinking that was very cute. —That’s not true, Phil —you try to comfort him, —you can’t help me being an idiot.

—To be fair, Mason and you are both idiots. —Foden laughs, —Definitely unaware idiots-

But before he can explain to you anything, Mason shows up in front of you. 

While walking back to his car, he notices the sound of people talking outside. He thinks he’s recognizing your voice. He must be going insane, he thinks tiredly to himself. But still, he walks towards the sound. Quickly seeing you and Phil sitting together... fucking hell, why are you wearing his jacket? 

Before he realizes it himself, he stands before you and his teammate Foden. The chattering stops directly, did he interrupt something? He feels awkward with you and Phil looking at him amusingly. How can he fix this awful situation? 

—I uh... I wanted to say bye to you. —Mason said, ignoring the existence of Phil. —I am supposed to bring you home or will Phil...?—He stutters eventually, not wanting to finish his question.

—Wait, Mase, can we talk? —You react before Mason turns around and walks to his car in a rush. He nods.

—Of course.

The silence was sharply awkward.

—Don’t forget your jacket, Foden —Mason quickly says, —she can wear mine while we’re outside.

Phil, who no longer was sitting on the bench, laughed for a bit at his hopeless friend. Then he walks up to you, and takes his own jacket from your shoulders, while Mason quickly takes off his. You give Phil a quick hug to thank him, before getting into Mason's jacket.

—Don’t be an idiot to her —says Phil toward Mason whispering in his ear. You smile shyly, flushing with Phil's comment. 

Mason doesn’t know how to watch the interaction between his friend and you. He doesn't know where to look when you turn your attention to him. The white dress quickly grabs his attention once again.

Silently, both of you walk to the parking lot where his fancy Mercedes-AMG was parked. You had always made fun of him because the car was too posh in your opinion, although every time you needed a ride home you always ended up in his car.

Firstly he took the car keys out of his pocket and then he opened your door for you. He had always been a gentleman. The situation is unexpected, yet influenced by the tension that’s been built between you two through the last couple of months. 

—So, what do you want to talk about? —Mason asks you. You lasted a few seconds thinking about how to answer his question.

—Why were you ignoring me today? Why didn’t you come up to me and Phil to say hi? —You fire multiple questions at him, —did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me? —Your words cut through the thick air inside the car.

—I thought the two of you were busy with each other. —Mason mutters.

You scoff, this was unbelievable. —That’s bullshit Mase, you know I always make time for you.

—God!, I just wasn’t in the mood to see you two. —He said, elevating his tone, trying to sound casual but deep down, jealousy was gnawing at him like a relentless beast.

You don’t know what to say to Mason. You don’t even know what the boy means. He wasn’t in the mood to see you? Since when could that happen? 

—Why? —You barely dare to ask him. You have no choice, so you repeat your last question —why, Mase? —Your eyes start to fill with tears.

Mason sighs, —You won’t get it.

—You don’t know that. Try me.

—I just... I just don’t like seeing you with other boys —he confessed. You doubt for a bit. Should you tell him you were relieved he showed up alone instead of coming with Daphne? You decide not.

—Oh, come on Mason! You can't say that! —You almost shout. Mason's eyes open like plates. You had never raised your voice at him like that, so angry.

—Why not? —He, as well, says almost shouting.

—Because you don't have the right! It's-it's just that you can't say that as if my feelings were so simple... —You tried to calm yourself, you could lost everything now.

—Mason, I've been with you since the beginning and you know that. I'm your biggest supporter and deep inside you know I’ll always cheer for you. I’ve spent my whole girlhood- Fuck. —Tears start scrolling down your delicate face. He looks at you as if you were graceful.

—I wanted to be with you tonight, —you eventually say after a long silence—but you looked at me as if I didn’t matter.

—I know.

You sigh. Can't the boy say anything else? You feel obligated to talk further: —Why aren’t you telling me what’s wrong?

You don't get any answer. Looking at the ceiling of the car, you try to keep your cool.

—You know what? I’m going back to the party. Call me when you can explain at least something. —You want to undo yourself from Mason's warm jacket, but he stops you directly by grabbing your arm.

—I know you deserve to know what’s going on, but I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s a shitty excuse which makes everything even more unclear, but please don’t go back inside. —Mason talks soft and fast —and please keep the jacket on.

—What’s so important about the jacket? —You ask with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit. 

—Your dress distracts me and I don’t want to see you in anyone else’s jacket again. —This time he is direct with his words. Almost harsh. You wonder why your dress distracts him. Does he find it ugly?

 —Don’t you like the dress? —You ask.

 —I fucking love the dress. —Mason says. At that moment you feel something clicking. Despite his short explanation, you wonder if Mason may return your feelings.

—Just give me time. Everything is happening so fast and the fact that I'm just realizing that all these years all I've been doing is hurting you makes me go mad angry at myself. —He says, without breathing. —And... I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for everything I've done, for the countless times I've hurt you. I promise you will have a proper explanation. —He tried to smile, with tears in his eyes.

—That's the Mase I know... —You laugh lightly and Mason just stares at you, sweetly. —Now take me back home, probably my brother is already wasted.

What you didn't know is that that day Mason Mount started falling in love with you.

A few days after you were your house, sat in the cozy familiarity of the your couch while your mother flipped through the pages of a weathered photo album resting on her lap. Each turn of the page revealed a snapshot of your brother's and your past, a journey frozen in time.

—Look! You're wearing my glasses! —Said your mother, with clear emotion in her voice. She turned some pages that had photographs of your childhood: when you were born, your first tooth fell out and many more memories.

Your cheeks flushed with nostalgic warmth, a subtle testament to the innocence and joy captured in each photograph.

Among the sepia-toned memories and faded polaroids, there was a page filled with pictures where Mason and you, both still little children, intertwined in laughter playing in the park.

Your mom pinched your cheek. —Someday you will realize that everything you did was not in vain, on the contrary, it was all worth it. —She stopped to take a breath. —Because golden loves are like that. They stay with you forever.

—How beautiful, mom. —You ironized. She laughed.

—It will, darling... Come here. —And then you hugged her. You hugged her with all your might as you felt her warmth on your face. She giggled, breaking the embrace.

—You'll need a spell to make Mason realize what a fool he is.

—Mom!

A couple days later, you were back at Stamford Bridge once again. As you approach the stadium, you can feel the excitement building. The streets around the stadium eagerly anticipate the game ahead.

Inside the stadium, the dominant colour is blue. The stands are filled with supporters adorned in their team's jerseys, scarves, and signs that say "Pride of London".

—Call her Mason, I’m sure she's in the stands —said Ben, while putting on the new shirt they played in today. Mason held his cell phone, sitting on the bench in the large locker room.

Today was Valentine's Day and Mason had a game. Your brother told Mason he was going out on a date with his girlfriend but you would go in his place, as usual. He didn't know if you were coming, so Mason was nervous, especially with the talk you had in his car.

You had called Debbie in the morning, asking her if you should come to the game, and she told you that Mason would be more than happy to see you there. You wondered if he knew what you were up to if your brother had kept him in the loop.

Pick it up.

Pick it up.

The third tone rang while Ben tried to hold Mason, about to faint from anxiety. In the background, music was blasting from the speakers while the guys on the team began gathering in the locker room for their last talk before the game started.

Reece James leaned closer, curious why his teammate was sitting with his phone in hand, bouncing his leg nervously.

—What has got Mount that nervous? I've never seen him like this —he says to Ben, seated next to Mason, fixing his shoes.

—It's his girlfriend-

—She's not my girlfriend! —Mason interrupted Chilwell, with an expression of fear. You still haven't answered him and the fact that his friends were bothering him added to his anxiety.

—Give me that shit. —Suddenly Kai Havertz appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Mason's phone and putting the call on speaker. Everyone's attention was on the tones ringing, hoping you'll pick up. The team had witnessed your situationship since Mason had joined Chelsea, so they knew you quite well.

—Hi? Mason?

Kai, standing on the bench in the centre of the room, had the phone in his hand so everyone could hear. His eyes widened and his mouth also opened, in surprise. Everyone stood up while Mason's blood pressure went down.

With a jump, Havertz handed the cell phone to his friend so he could answer you. There was a silence between your response and his because his teammates were signalling to him, guiding him in his response.

—Yes? —That was the only thing he could think of at that moment.

—You... you've just called me minutes before your game. Is everything okay? Do you need something? —For you, it was strange that Mason called you, especially right before his game. Mason's teammates melt with your response, you seemed like a worried girlfriend.

—N-no, I was calling to know if you're on Stamford Bridge. —He stuttered, nervous about your answer. You smiled a bit, already seated between the blue tide of fans.

—Of course! I wouldn't miss a game for anything Mase. —And that was the end of him. He said goodbye saying that he had to go out and play and hoped you liked the game, while all his friends were shouting acknowledging that probably by the end of the year, they would have a new addition on their team.

The match ended with Chelsea winning by two goals and the assistance of Mason. You couldn't be more proud of him and after the exhilarating victory at Stamford Bridge, you made your way to the cooldown room, where players and staff often gather to unwind after the match.

As you entered, you spotted Mason, the hero of the game with his crucial assist. A sense of pride swelled within you as you approached him. He was putting something in his backpack, distracted.

—Incredible game out there, —you said, startling Mason. He turned with a smile, recognizing your voice without seeing your face.

—Thanks, this means a lot to me... —Mason replied, his face beaming with satisfaction. You both exchanged a few more words about the match, sharing our favourite moments and the atmosphere at the stadium. Then, out of the blue, Mason's tone turned slightly more serious.

—You know... —he said, pausing for a moment. —I've been thinking. We've been through so much together, your support has meant a lot to me.

You nodded, feeling a sense of tenderness with him. Mason took a deep breath before continuing. —Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner later. Just to say thanks for always being there, you know?

Surprised by the unexpected invitation, you couldn't help but smile. —I'd be honoured to join you. —You said, laughing out of nervousness.

A couple hours later, Mason kept his hand on your lower back as he led you through the restaurant, your body settled into his side. His hand slid around your waist while opening the door, a shiver already wracking your body. You gasped at the white snow starting to lay outside, thick flakes slowly falling from the sky.

—Look there! Mase, it's snowing! —You tugged a little on Mason's hand on your waist, the heat replacing the cold feeling on your fingers. There was already a pretty thick layer on the ground and you wondered briefly how long it had been snowing. —It's so pretty.

Mason watched your smile widen when he was paying the bill, as you tilted your head back, eyes squinting as the flakes cascaded down. He'd never seen anyone get so excited over snow.

You looked so good under the twinkling lights, the candle in the middle of the table illuminating half of your face. He was having an amazing time, already realizing he mad in love with you.

From the way you keep your hair in a messy ponytail to the way you are surprised by the snow. Everything about you was perfect for him.

—Do you want to go for a walk before I take you home? —He slid his hand over your jaw, his thumb stroking away the little flake on your cheek. You gave a small nod, flushed since all of this was new for you. He grinned before stepping back and holding his hand out to you.

—M'lady?

You looped your arm through his and the two of you started off down the street, his gaze darting between you and the falling snow. You snuggle as close as possible to him to steal some of his natural body heat.

Snow was falling and settling into Mason’s hair, individual flakes dropping onto his eyelashes and you were certain he’d never looked prettier.

—Remember the time I tried to sneak out and you caught me? That time I was actually grounded for fighting with my brother and I wanted to buy the new console game you were so interested in. —You said, recalling those silly things.

He didn't know if his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold or from what you'd just said.

—But that game was so expensive!

—I know! I just wanted to give you something for your birthday. That's why I didn't have any presents for you at your birthday party.

Mason caught your gaze, head cocking curiously at the sudden shy look that had taken over your features. You let your eyes wander from him to the snow-filled street around you. You slowed to a stop, right against the barriers of the little lake and you leant against it, the two of you facing each other, your hand still clasped in his.

All you wanted was to grab him and kiss him, you didn’t care who saw or if you got a cold, you just wanted to kiss him in the snow.

After a silence, he said: —You know I want you, right?

You looked at him. Surprised. Self-conscious Scared. But above all, in love.

—I've been thinking and I can't help falling for you now. I’m not jealous because you have other people in your life, I’m not a fucking kid. That time with Phil, at the party, made me realize that I want you with me... By my side. I want to be the one you say 'I love you' to, I want to be the one that cuddles you, that-

You interrupted him. —Mase, I… I don’t know how to say this… —Voice uncertain as you watched for his reaction, for any flicker of emotion that stated he didn't want that.

His face fell, and he retracted his hands from the barriers that before were trapping you between his body and the barriers. Ready for rejection, he looked into your eyes.

—I… I like you too. —You looked down, feigning sadness. When you looked up, he was squinting at you. —I don't know how are you convincing my brother you're good enough for me...

—I'd probably invite him to one of my games and we could go for dinner after the game? I'll book somewhere for us. —You matched his smile with a nod, shoulders relaxing slightly after the confession as you pulled your hand from his so you could settle your arms around his neck instead.

—Sounds amazing. Deep inside he's a West Ham fan, y'know. — Mason's face contorted a little when he bumped his nose against yours, lips lightly brushing together.

—Oh shut up, —he muttered into your lips, —let me kiss you.

And you obeyed, your hands resting nervously at his neck as he ravished you, his tongue begging for entrance. You allowed it, moaning into his lips as they intertwined perfectly. His hands travelled from your hair to your waist where he pushed you closer to him.

You indeed had waited your whole life for this.

[jamespottersdaisy]

Sweet Nothing

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more."

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it.

based on a request

content- fluff, sickness, hurt/comfort?, established relationship.

3.2k

author's note- this is actually several blurbs put into one fic, no use of y/n, english is not my first language so beware <3

You feel a hand on your lower back, guiding you through the throng in the Quidditch Pitch to the castle. Raising your head, your eyes catch Remus's soft but rapt expression. His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes opting for the best way to get you from the packed crowd with the least malaise.

You don't bother to speak; most probably, he won't hear you. Hell, you don't even hear your own thoughts in all this ruckus. However, you would always hear his calm and tender tone.

"This way, dove."

You let your body comply with his hand on your back.

"You guys are a menace," your disapproving timbre curls up his lips into a subtle smile, one that he tries to hide from you. "And I don't believe for a second that you had nothing to do with this."

He chuckles, his brown eyes catching yours for a moment. "I was with you the whole time, wasn't I?"

"They're not brilliant enough to think of a way of hexing the whole–" Your words are cut off when Remus pulls you to his right. You stumble from the sudden shove, feeling his tight grip on your arms.

You see a group of brooms whooshing from where you were standing only seconds before. "What are they doing?"

"Bastards," Remus mutters, agitated that they almost knocked you out.

"Your fault. You shouldn't have given them a reason to celebrate."

You know you are wrong; of course, the Gryffindor players would celebrate with or without the Marauder's prank on the opposite team. However, a little compunction wouldn't hurt. 

"It's not my fault that I'm a mastermind," Remus grins, pulling you closer by the waist. You can hear the cheerful shouts and music from afar, knowing that James is probably capering around, frisking on Sirius or Peter. 

"Should we go and celebrate with them?" you ask Remus, even though you despise the hubbub, everyone pushing and pulling others, stumbling to one another, hurting each other's toes. Who needs that? You can very well express your cheers in the common room celebrations. And Remus knows you well enough.

"No, we'll see them in the common room," he says, holding your hand tightly. "Are you hungry?"

"We just ate."

"Do you want snacks? I can get some from the kitchens if you do."

You chuckle at his tone, so soft but also pampering you. "Are you hungry? You certainly sound like you want something to eat."

"You?"

"Remus!" you elbow him, blush painting your cheeks. He laughs, a sound that manages to flutter chords in your heart no matter how many times you hear it. He brings your hand–which is entangled between his fingers– to his lips and places a tender peck on it.

"I'll bring you some chocolate from the kitchens."

That is how you know he craves chocolate.

"You two should break up."

"Come again?"

"I said, break up for a day, you're making Prongs sad," Sirius repeats shamelessly at you, going through a cookie bowl.

Remus is ambling down the stairs with a book in his hand. A book which he uses to smack Sirius on the head. He winces, scowling at your boyfriend.

"Prongs being sad is none of our business."

You let Remus sit on the sofa and put your head on his lap. Under a mere second, another hand, belonging to James, plunges into the bowl. 

"No matter what I do, Evans won't go out with me on Valentine's Day," he continues to inspect every cookie meticulously, looking for the right one. Your heart aches at the sight, and you decide that enough is enough. You snatch the bowl under his hand and lay back on Remus's lap with the cookies on your stomach. Remus smiles at the sight of you, his hand roaming through your hair.

"Stop sampling the cookies with your filthy fingers."

"They're my only comfort. Give them back," James attacks, ready to grab the bowl back, but Remus's hands stop him. He playfully swats James's hand away from the bowl. 

"She's eating them."

You grin at James, visibly smug about your boyfriend's demeanour. "I am eating them, Potter."

"You haven't touched them since Peter brought them from the kitchens."

"I will eat them, Potter."

You don't comprehend what happens next, or you simply don't remember. Maybe James groans and leaves your side, or Sirius starts teasing you again. Who knows? You just feel Remus's fingers tousling between strands of your hair. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper, a tiny smile adorning your lips.

"Braiding your hair," he drawls, his eyes glancing at your lips before averting back to your hair. 

"You know how to braid?"

Remus chuckles, shaking his head. "No, but I'm learning right now."

"By ruffling my hair?"

"I'm not ruffling, dove. I'm braiding."

"No, you're definitely ruffling. I can feel it."

"I'll comb them later tonight. Sounds good?" you smirk at his raised eyebrows, hearing your heart singing. Moments like this are what soothe your worries and take away the weight on your shoulders for that week. His quiet whispers and tender touch, adoring tone and smiling eyes always manage to find their path to your heart, warming it in an instant.

"Will you also bring me milk and kiss me goodnight?"

He smiles, bringing one hand to your chin. His thumb caresses the skin and journeys to your lips.

"If that's what you want."

You roll your eyes at him, taking his hand from your face in your hand. You start to fiddle with his fingers, oblivious of the beam in his countenance. You love playing with Remus's hand. They are larger than yours, as Remus enjoys pointing out with every chance he gets, but also so soft. 

Your eyes forcefully move from your intertwined hands to Remus's brown eyes. In a few seconds, your mind feels his finger resting under your chin. You gaze at him with confusion and affection as he leans in and puts his lips before yours. He doesn't kiss you, merely placing his lips inches away from yours. You know he is waiting for you. 

You smile for a moment, your warm breath hitting his lips. You know it puts him on the edge when you josh him, his breathing getting heavier, the black in his eyes widening.

But you relish it more than anything.

"Don't tease, dove," he whispers, and you can feel the anticipation in his tone.

You giggle, your smile growing against his, your fingers running through the hair on his neck. You don't torture him any more, crashing your lips to his. You let out an amused breath when you feel Remus return the kiss in a second, his hands wandering your body.

No matter how long you've been together or how many times he has kissed your lips, it is the same feeling every time. The burn in your core, the desire for more and the joy of his touch. You are too familiar with all these sensations, and yet you welcome them every time with a smile on your face.

"Get a room!"

You are familiar with Sirius's shriek, too.

Your throat burns with pain, your nose itching with an urge to sneeze, which never comes. You know for sure that you look terrible in your bed, with dishevelled hair, a red nose and swollen eyes. However, all this doesn't seem to phase Remus even a bit. 

"You're a mule."

He is annoyed and maybe slightly worried. His eyebrows are furrowed, and displeasure has gained a seat on his visage. He is staring at you with irritated eyes and a scowl beside your bed.

"And you're rude," you say, barely managing to raise your voice from a whisper. It's not your fault that your throat hurts when you talk.

"Dove, let's just go to Madam Pomfrey."

"For a cold?"

Remus groans, sitting next to you. He puts one hand on your right thigh before speaking again.

"You'll have a fever if you keep up like this."

"I'm fine, stop worrying," you say, even though you're happy that he does.

You're happy that he worries for you and cares for you. You're happy that he never leaves your side or your hand. You're happy that even though he rarely uses the words, he still manages to tell you he loves you with actions.

You don't need to hear it. You never need to hear it; Remus makes sure that you can feel it.

"You know I can't do that," he shakes his head, persistent with his efforts. "And you know I can't take care of you all by myself."

You chuckle at his words. For the last seven hours, he's been bringing you warm soup, making sure you're hydrated enough, and he hasn't let you stand up for even a second.

"You've done well so far," you smile despite the ache in your temples. "Remus, it's just cold. I'll be fine in the morning, especially with your pampering."

You don't see the point in visiting the hospital wing for a seasonal cold; it seems like overreacting. Remus, on the other hand, seems distraught seeing you in pain. He doesn't want to agree; you can see it on his face, but he agrees anyway. 

"It would help if you took a warm shower, you know."

You smile at him, knowing damn well that he wouldn't let you get on your feet without his help.

"Maybe."

Remus nods several times, immediately rising to his feet. "I'll run a shower for you."

You watch him sprint to the bathroom, and the next thing you hear is the water running. You are lucky that your roommates are not in your dorm room today. Or maybe you're unlucky that you got sick on Saturday.

You slowly start getting out of bed, your head throbbing. Remus comes back and helps you get to the bathroom. In reality, he merely follows you from place to place, as you're perfectly capable of walking. 

"You're acting like I'm a toddler," you laugh at his concern, which earns you a frown. 

"You are a toddler. Why else would you refuse to go to the hospital wing?"

"Because I'm fine," you grin, getting out of your clothes. Remus watches you, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "If you're waiting for me to ask you to join me, I'm not gonna do that."

He smirks at your tone, pushing himself off the doorframe. "I'll be there if you need me."

He leaves you alone, and you let hot water embrace your bare skin. By the end of the shower, you feel lighter and better, happy that your headache has eased a bit.

Remus waits for you in the room, and you notice that he has brought you another soup. 

"How many times do I have to drink that?" 

"Enough times for you to get better," he pushes the blanket on top of you when you lay down on the bed. "Cooperate a bit."

He takes the soup bowl in his hand and lifts the spoon. You grimace at the steam rising from the spoon.

"I'd rather not drink–"

"Open wide, the train is coming," he pushes the spoon to your lips.

"Remus!" you pull your head backwards, laughing involuntarily. "It's hot!"

"You haven't even tasted it."

"I can see from the steam."

"Fine," he groans, huffing at the spoon. "It's good now, come on."

Now that you're out of the excuses, you comply with him. Still, you pull a face when your tongue meets with the soup, albeit it is delicious. 

"It can't be that disgusting, dove."

"It is," you lie when Remus offers you another spoon, a bit of liquid dripping from your lips to your chin. 

"Let me see," he says, and before you can deny it, his lips are already on yours. 

You let out a disapproving sound from deep in your throat, even though your stomach tingles at the feeling of Remus's soft lips on yours. He pulls back an inch, but still close enough for you to feel his warm breath. 

"It was delicious," he mocks. "Liar."

"You're gonna be sick, baby," you whisper, your lips smiling a bit. 

He kisses you again, this time quicker and shorter than before. "You'll take care of me."

And you will take care of him the next morning because he definitely will be sick.

You don't feel your legs, nor do you remember how you got to the castle yard. You're in a trance, unable to hear or feel anything as you stride to a distant tree that will provide you solidarity. Anything except the suffocating weight in your lungs and the burning urge in your throat. You want to cry. You want to drop to your knees and wail, letting tears pour down your eyes, allowing the agony to leave your heart with your every cry.

But you don't cry.

You don't cry until you know you are alone. You don't cry until you are sure that no one can see you, no one can hear you. You don't cry until you are sure that you are out of everyone's sight who will pity you if they see your tears.

It feels too much. You feel too much. You feel too much, but you don't feel enough. You never feel enough. 

You run, but you never flee. You swim, but you drown. You smile, but you cry.

The moment you see the tree, your legs give in. You fall to the ground, a cry leaving your lips. You don't scream, you don't wail. You simply welcome the tears as you sit on the ground, pulling your knees to yourself.

Your mind echoes each and every word that pulls you too deep into the ocean.

"I expected more from you."

You thought you did enough.

"It's your fault."

You thought you did the right thing.

"You'll do better next time."

You thought you did better this time.

You hear your pained sob, pitying yourself. Your nails dig into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. You want to leave a mark. You want to feel something, something other than the pain burning inside your chest. 

"Dove?"

You whine at your lover's voice, so soft and tender, afraid to startle you. You don't question how he has found you. Somehow he always does.

"Go away, Remus," your tone sounds weaker than you expect, full of agony and desperation. You don't look at his face; you don't look anywhere but your hands. 

You don't want him to see your red eyes, tear-stained face and shaking hands. You don't want him to hear your heavy sobs and breathless cries. You don't want him to pity you.

"No," he sits next to you, still a bit hesitant to touch you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Go away," you cry, "please."

"I am not going anywhere, dove," he shakes his head, his eyes glancing at your hands. He knows it may backfire, and he knows you may draw up your walls even higher, but he takes the risk. He puts his hand on yours, parting your nails from your skin. 

You scrunch up your face when he kisses the skin where your nails dig deep, ready to burst into tears once more. You lower your head, refusing to let him see your pain. 

He doesn't let you. 

"Talk to me," he pleads, holding your hand close to him. "I hate seeing you cry."

Of course, he does, you think. Why would anyone want to put up with your bawling? Why would anyone want to put up with you?

You can feel the hatred poisoning your veins, darkening the light in your heart. You know this hatred, this darkness. You know who it is aimed at. You are too familiar with its burn. You know it is going to mock your weakness and insult your very being because you know you feel that hatred for none other than yourself.

When you talk, you want to drown your voice just to never hear it again.

"I'm sorry."

You don't see Remus's confused face. You don't feel his bafflement. You only hear his loving pitying tone.

"For what?" he asks and doesn't wait for your reply. "Dove, come here."

You despise your body for betraying your mind. You abhor your heart for betraying your will. You hate your frailty when it comes to Remus.

You let him hold you close to his chest, sobbing into his touch. His hands caress your hair, his lips leaving kisses on your temple as comfort. Your body trembles under his affection, the tears staining his shirt. 

"It's alright. You're alright," his tone hugs the scarred part of your soul. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry, Remus, I'm sorry–"

"What for, dove? You have nothing to be sorry about," he cuts you off, feeling that you're spiralling. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me, we'll fix it together, yeah?"

You shake your head, clinging closer to his chest. This is the part you hate most. The part where the words line up against your tongue but don't know how to get out. Your feelings mock you, and you're afraid that if you talk, he will mock you, too.

Remus knows you. He has learned you well enough to know that you are struggling. He strokes your back, encouraging you to speak. 

"Come on, dove. You'll feel better," he kisses your hair.

"No, I- It's not.." you mumble something between your sobs, and Remus tries so hard to understand you. He waits, patiently giving you the time you need to organise your thoughts, all while embracing you tightly. 

"It's alright. Take your time."

You inhale a deep but shaky breath, your chest trembling from all the hiccups. You wish to speak, to share your pain with your lover, but it's just too heavy. So heavy that letters are like a burden to your tongue. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you don't know you're crying again until you feel teardrops on your hand. "I can't. This is it. This is all I got. It's not enough, I'm not enough."

"Hey, hey, hey," Remus pulls away, taking your face in his hands. "You're more than enough."

"No, no, I-I can't…I can't do better. I need to do better, I have to do better–"

Remus doesn't understand what you're talking about; your words don't make sense to him. All he knows is that your every tear is like a knife to his heart, your every sob is like a hit in the gut, and your every word is like a storm hitting his mind.

"You don't have to do anything. You're doing enough," he says, his heart clenching in pain at the sight of you. "Listen to me."

He puts his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. "Listen to me, dove."

He waits for you. He waits until your breathing calms down, your tears slow down, and your body stops shaking. You close your eyes, inhaling his scent.

"You're enough for me," he whispers, his hands still caressing your body. "I love you, and you're enough for me."

You feel the burn in your chest at ease, the burden in your tongue walking away. You feel your tears come to a halt, your soul finding comfort in his words. 

"I love you, too," you whisper back. 

"Then talk to me, and let me help you."

So, you talk. You tell him every word in your mind, every pain in your heart and every burden in your soul. You know he can't possibly solve all your problems or take away all your pain, but what he can do is always let you know he loves you, whether with his words or his actions.

I love Remus, I wish men were real.

Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!

and if you please, buy me a coffee <333

[sugar-grigri]

Fujimoto has never talked so much about love as in this chapter 

This chapter is incredible, not only for the multitude of answers it offers but also for the beauty of its writing on first reading alone. 

It opens with a man who appeared in chapter 101 of CSM, as passers-by passively walked past him, this stranger was actually right: humans, one of whose major causes of death are demons, are leading to a cold war (ironic to talk about a Cold War for a manga set in the 90s)

But it's as if the whole of society refuses to notice, that everyone hides behind Chainsaw Man and consumes all these derivative products like lucky charms. Chainsaw Man embodies a demonic anomaly, a demon at the service of the people who make them forget this war. 

And that's exactly why Yoru has a grudge against him. Chainsaw Man is an instrument of peace, wielded in times of peace and sacrificed in times of war. Chainsaw Man is there to make us forget the conflicts or become the scapegoat, in either case, he is there to make us forget the war in which humanity is trapped.

A machine into which all hopes are projected, cries of suffering directed, whose childlike quality is seen only by the predators who exploit him constantly. 

What we need to see in this dialogue between Nayuta and Fumiko is a struggle for domination. As we have seen, Fumiko is someone who, despite her aggressions, drowns them in a constantly contradictory protection: she wants to protect a child, but moleste Denji, plays a game in which she places him as older in order to hide her predation, and has saviour syndrome.

Fumiko thinks she's easily understood the nature of weapons, she's sensitive to Quanxi's bodily sacrifices and only repeats to the one she's abusing like an unrestrained fan of a child. Fumiko is the symbol that even when she belongs to the same camp as those she intends to protect, she still can't understand them.

She thinks it's either Nayuta who finds humans weak, or the fact that Barem supports Denji's demonic quality, that they are threats to his well-being when they are the ones who know him best. This is normal, because the strategy of public hunters is to bank on Denji's human side, but this strategy is not enough.

In chapters 136 and 137, Denji is mistreated when he's playing as a human being, getting into fights at school, being treated badly by his teachers, molested when he was thinking about a date at the cinema, and the closer he gets to normality, the more he suffers.

She symbolises not only Denji's sexual trauma, but also the paradox of the hunter system: a system that intends to offer Denji a family framework, but which is not only failing but also traumatising.

Nayuta says she wouldn't kill humans because they're weak compared to demons anyway. It would be as boring as killing ants! It's a continuation of Makima's point that the demon of control isn't interested in things that can be mobilised or easily controlled, it's powerful demons like Pochita that she wouldn't be able to control. Because the only way to establish a link for this demon is to find a demon as powerful as her, of her rank. Nayuta's superiority complex is always balanced against Denji's inferiority complex.

While the demon of control is only interested in demons, the demon who was martyred by humans cannot conceive of himself without them, but we'll come back to that later. 

I just want to point something out: isn't it paradoxical to reproach Denji for the education he gives Nayuta when Fumiko is supposed to regard him, as she claims, as a child? Once again, Fumiko is in constant contradiction, protecting by controlling and attacking, conceiving of a child as an adult, she is the hold over a child she can't help but see as a weapon while vouching for his condition. 

What's more, Fumiko's thinking is purely human, not universal like Denji and Nayuta. For them, feeding the dogs and their cat is a mission of the utmost necessity, it's like acting to protect one's family, whereas Fumiko refutes this.

Denji has been considered a dog for part of his life, and has bonded and merged with a demon in the shape of a dog, which is the first form of love he received: it was not humans who first gave Denji love, but animals. In the same way, the demon of control likes to form a relationship with dogs who take pleasure in their domestication, either as a form of denunciation or as a clearly established hierarchy. 

Fumiko proves that human sensitivity only stops at their peers, while the rarer demonic sensitivity is more universal and intense, whether it's treating animals as precious beings or forgiving unforgivable acts like Denji's continued love for Makima.

The fact that Denji and Nayuta appear to have no moral barriers is what allows them not to be prisoners of their own, and to conceive of love more extensively, whether it be harmful or inter-species. 

All this just goes to prove Barem's point that, as a weapon, he has a very good understanding of the different species and what they have in common: death is what binds us together.

When humans no longer find interest in a figure, it is destruction that attracts them. In other words, it's intrinsic to them. Even when they have been spared the demon of fire, they intend to spread it. Isn't it ironic, then, that Fumiko intends to protect two demons at the expense of their animals? Humans only see the world in terms of hierarchy, whereas demons and animals recognise that there is more to it than just a food chain. 

Nayuta's emphasis on the exhilaration that comes from abusing and killing demons is spot on. In chapter 137, Denji had fun beating up all those men, even concluding that "this" normal life wasn't so bad. Why was that? Because it's the daily life of a demon.

Denji, who belongs to both camps, has human needs just as much as he has demonic needs, so Nayuta has a point. But just as living solely as a human doesn't satisfy Denji, acting solely as a demon doesn't work any better. 

Denji works through the concrete, through sensations, and what he materialises through his senses, the fact being that he's had at least one kiss without any major damage with a human his own age.

Just a harmless touch is what allows Denji to connect with humanity as a whole, to be sensitive to their plight, even though he has no morals and takes pleasure in human suffering.

It wasn't until Denji struck up a relationship with Aki and Power for the first time that he was able to feel human and stop feeling like an animal. We are empathetic to the fate of those who resemble us, Denji is a universal being, animal, human and demon, he is the one who brings these different worlds together. Barem is right: death is what binds species together. But Pochita and Denji are the symbol that love can also be a common denominator. 

The fact that he thinks of Asa is symbolic because, without knowing it, she is the one who understood the plurality of species in Denji. She began by dehumanising him, Denji's animal phase, placing him below the cat (proof that she too places animals before men), then she had budding feelings for Denji before being disturbed by Chainsaw Man. 

That's why Chapter 101 is so important to understanding this chapter: because in it, Asa makes friends with both humans and demons, getting to know Yuko just as she does Yoru. She is not outraged by the idea of killing, as Yoru asks her to do, having put aside her human nature and accepted the world as it is, which is ruled by death.

But she is no fatalist, and in the face of a demon, she protects Yuko, continuing to love despite her mistakes "as long as her heart is in the right place". What matters is not so much our actions as the cursor through which we place ourselves to apprehend the world. 

Relationships are full of mistakes, imperfections, misunderstandings and a game of dominance. Denji doesn't realise it, but the one who kissed him wasn't Asa but Yoru, and it was for a bad purpose: to turn him into a weapon. Paradoxically, in wanting to make Denji a weapon, Yoru conceived him as he was, a hybrid being, a weapon. It was the first kiss in which he was seen for what he was.

But not only that, just as Asa loves the different natures of the multi-species being that is Denji, so Denji loves Asa's dual nature, what holds him together is as much the memory of the human in the aquarium as the physical contact with the demon inside her.

While Asa, in her desire to protect Denji, was distancing herself from him, hurting him and making him doubt himself, it was paradoxically the demon, with evil intentions, who gave him some peace of mind.

The chapter is called Devil's choice, an expression which means that we only have two choices, that we can't have everything. In this case, that would mean choosing a species, a side. But what Asa and Denji still represent in this Shakespearean symbolism is not belonging to any side, but loving in a universal way.

The rejection of men has opened up other perspectives for both of them, be it the animal or the demonic connection. 

Once again, the answer lies in plurality, in what begins with two: Asa and Denji decide, on the contrary, to have it all, there is no Devil's choice. 

By deciding to bond with animals rather than humans when they lost their parents, Asa and Denji forged a destiny guided by love without barriers.

Their bad experiences - sexual harassment for Denji and bullying at school for Asa - at the hands of adults have naturally created a distrust of humanity that is rekindled by contact between the two of them. It's when Denji and Asa come together that they regain hope, because they are the definition of loving each other fully.

Those who stand in the way of this universal love are the public hunters who avoid this natural crossing.

The public hunters are there precisely to fuel the fight against humans and demons, the link they carry is not love but the other common denominator, death, destruction. Even if it means crossing the moral barrier to exploit children with Yoshida by forcing them to harm other children like Asa, Fumiko being once again the symbol of this danger.

Denji has both human and demonic needs, so he's destined to love Asa because she's both human and harbours a demon with a thirst for violence. Chainsaw Man was used to make us forget the war, but by loving the demon of war, they both unravel.

Only Chainsaw Man and the demon of war can conquer death, because love is the second common denominator that links the species. Why? Because everyone has a heart. Even demons. Who not only have one, but become one.

[totalswag]

Hi you! I was thinking about actress!y/n is in a ceremony and Drew is filming of obx s4, they're both so busy in their film industry, that they miss each other terribly that they kept contacting in messages and calls,

(especially him, who is very proud of her, who would like to be by her side even if she tells him to keep working on the set of obx, that she wouldn't want to disturb him. Like they both put up with each other so much they love each other)

that they haven't had time to talk to each other much, they want to meet up face to face again for once, so she decides to visit him as a little surprise to see him again in Charleston

surprise visit on set — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank for the request lovie! i have a few requests that i will work on or currently working on. all the love you guys have been showing me lately is absolutely amazing, i couldn't thank you lovies anymore. halfway to 1k too!!!

summary surprising drew on set after months of not seeing each other.

warnings cuteness thats all

masterlist

Being in a relationship where you both act and are continuously busy filming is difficult, but there is always time and space to see one other when you take a break from filming.

Drew and you began dating in 2021, after he completed season two of his show, Outer Banks. You met through mutual friends at a gathering and hit it off right away.

Outer Banks season four is presently in production, which means Drew is in Charleston filming. It's been about two months since you last saw each other, and you miss each other a lot.

You were on the red carpet on the premiere of your new movie. As you went through the crowd, cameras flashed and captured every moment. In the back of your head, you couldn't stop thinking about Drew and how much you miss him.

A young woman called your name where interviews stood infront of cameras waiting for you and your cast mates to interact. You smile with a kind wave, walking over.

“Miss, Y/N, "I must say you look absolutely stunning tonight in this dress you're wearing," she says, praising you from top to bottom.

"Thank you so much; it means a lot to me, and I'm glad I chose to wear this dress tonight," you giggle, smoothing your hands over your sides.

The interviewer asks you a few questions on both the film and your character. You were grateful to be asked these questions because you had worked so hard on set.

"Before we part ways, noticed your boyfriend, Drew Starkey, is filming season four for Outer Banks. How is that going, do you know?" She asks politely.

"We haven't seen each other in a while, but we text every day," you place the front strands behind your ear, "he said everything is going well on set and he can't wait for fans to see," you explain, smiling before saying goodbye.

You just hopped on a plane to Charleston to surprise Drew. You secretly organized this trip because you miss Drew and want to spend time with him. You can't wait to be in his arms again.

With all of your free time, you decided to pay Drew a visit and meet the rest of the cast, whom you consider friends as well.

When the plane landed, you walked down the stairs to find Maddie, Madison, and Carlacia waiting for you beside the car, holding two posters designed specifically for you. You took out your phone and started recording them as you came closer.

"Finally back with my hot bitches," you exclaim, extending your arms for a group hug.

"How long has it been since we saw you last?" Madison asks, "I don't know, but it's been too long," and then grabs your suitcase and places it in the trunk with your other belongings.

Everyone knows about you coming except for Drew. The look on his face will be priceless and unforgettable. Knowing you, you might cry.

A few hours go by, you left early with the girls to set since they are filming their scenes first. You were able to hid in Drew's trailer on the couch in the corner where he won't see you when he enters.

Drew's reaction was clearly visible on your phone. Hearing his voice get closer filled your tummy with butterflies. Taking a deep breath as you heard the doorknob turn.

"What time do you want me to get back on set again?" You hear him say this while the door is still open and you have no view of him.

"Okay, that sounds good; I'm going to take a quick nap," he says before entering his trailer.

His figure enters the trailer and turns right, with his back to you. When he turns around, all he sees is the love of his life in the corner, wearing the most beautiful smile that makes him fall harder each time. He can't believe you're standing in front of him now.

"Please tell me I'm dreaming right now and you're a vision," Drew blurts out, placing both hands over his head to digest what's going on in his mind.

"Don't think I'm a vision baby," you giggle, getting off the couch, "so are you gonna give me a kiss or stand there handsome?" You make amusing gestures. 

"Oh I'ma kiss you alright," he quickly responds, taking you in his arms, lifting you up with his arms; you wrap your legs around his waist.

You two remain like this for a full minute, taking up the sensation of being together. You place kisses all over Drew's face, making him giggle.

"I've missed you so much; seeing you now and seeing your beautiful face in person makes me so happy. Drew expresses himself meaningfully: "I fucking love you so much baby."

The tears come down your face, Drew's quickly to wipe them.

"I can't explain the emotions I'm feeling right now, but to sum it up, being in your arms again, hearing your voice, touching you, makes me want to not leave you."

Drew helped you get to your feet and led you to the couch. You inform him you have a surprise trip planned; he assumed you wouldn't see each other until next month. Drew gave you an update on how filming has gone, etc.

The past four days has been wonderful. You went onto set, met up with the crew and cast, beach, shopping, drinking, went out to dinner, etc.

Talked about the movie premiere and how your movie turned out after you watched it.

It's a lovely night in Charleston. The sun had just set, which was breathtaking from the view at dinner. Drew and you were strolling out of a restaurant holding hands, laughing at each other's jokes.

"Oh my gosh is that Y/N and Drew?" A faint voice from across the street causes you both to turn your heads at the same time, filled with curiosity.

"I suppose I am dreaming right now. I love you two so much and you've helped me so much, I can't thank you enough," the young girl confesses, struggling to fight back tears, "my name is Skylar."

Your heart warmed at Skylar's sweet comments. You and Drew instantly drew her into a group hug. Skylar wept with happiness. 

"Thank you for your love and support. We're both glad we could support you through your difficult periods in life, and we hope you'll keep fighting. Would you want a picture? Drew speaks with genuine sincerity, holding her hand and maintaining her composure.

After talking for a time, you took a few photos with Skyalr before going your separate ways. More fans have approached you two since your arrival. It's always good to meet supporters.

"How about we grab ourselves snacks from the gas station for a movie night and cuddle all night then possibly have a little fun" Drew implies with a hint a flirtatious about the having fun part.

You let a yelp when he squeezed your sides, leaning back against his body.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me" you shrug, smiling.

Drew sighs and wraps his arms around your neck, "I'm glad you took the time to come here. I missed you so much and am finally able to be with you. I'm extremely proud of all of your hard work and your new movie. "I love you, baby."

"I love you more my sweet boy, best thing that's ever happen to me."

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[dix0nvix3n]

𖤓°⋆ Chapter 1 °⋆𖤓

⋆☀︎｡Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader  ⋆☀︎｡Media: The Walking Dead; No Apocalypse & Alternate Universe ⋆☀︎｡Pronouns: She/Her  ⋆☀︎｡ Warning: Smoking (Cigarettes), One mention of weed, Talk of a bad past relationship. (That's it I think?) ⋆☀︎｡ Word Count: 2.5k

⋆☀︎｡ Author's Note: It's finally here... the beginning of my magnum opus. Even though I only have this one chapter out, there hasn't been a single day since I came up with the idea for the fic where I didn't think about it at least once. I just wanna thank all the people who let me infodump about it; y'all are true soldiers, cause I can really ramble on. Special thanks to @sinkdownbeneath for helping me write the intro because I was completely stuck for months with almost nothing to show, and being the person who let me yap the most, he can account for me pretty much talking about it every day for the past five months. So, anyway, I guess I hope y'all like my first finished something that wasn't just a blurb. Last night I only had a little over 200 words at 10 PM something, and now it's 7:44 AM with 2.5k words as I write this... I don't know what got into me, but anyway, enjoy!

June 1st, 1992

Daryl finds himself propped up against a tree, catching his breath. The cool summer air around him makes his chest ache with every breath he takes. He had been running, hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he darted past every tree, trying to evade potential capture from a party that had him jumping out a window when the cops showed up due to a noise complaint.

He spent much of his life within the comfort of the woodland, underneath the thick canopy of leaves and branches, the first roof he ever felt safe under.

He gasped for air, his legs exhausted and his lungs overworked, adrenaline still pulsing through him as he slid down the rough bark of a tree, pulling his legs up to his chest.

He's close to the road, hearing a solitary car cruise past. He can tell it's late from the stars that peek through the leaves that loom above him in the thick black sky, but he spots his glimmer of hope, which seems to be the soft light of a gas station just a bit beyond the road's traffic barrier closest to him.

With a deep inhale, Daryl knew he had to walk to the gas station and reluctantly call for a ride in a phone booth.

After fully catching his breath, he pulled himself off the ground and began walking towards the gas station, already dreading the thought of the phone call.

Reaching the gas station, he saw two cars; one belonged to the lone worker at the cash register inside, and the other belonged to a woman smoking a cigarette at the side of the building. The woman did a quick wave at him, which he found to be a little odd just because most people at this time of night aren't too friendly, but he gave a polite wave back anyway. 

Finally getting up to the phone booth, Daryl looked down at his watch, which read 1:00 AM, causing him to let out a deep sigh, realizing how late it was and how much of an inconvenience it would be for someone to come and pick him up. 

He stepped inside the phone booth, staring at the phone for a minute before popping in the quarters he luckily grabbed from the living room floor of the party. If he hadn't grabbed them, he'd be completely fucked and have to figure out his way back to his apartment.

After dialing the number he knew would pick up, the phone rang just a few times before a tired and clearly just woken up by a phone at one in the morning voice picked up.

"Hey, Mr. H... Could ya pick me up?"

"Thanks. 'm sorry about this; kinda just started walking and didn't stop. Ended up at some party, and now I don' know where I am."

"Yeah. Place is called Peachy Speed, never seen another gas station called this; it must be family-owned or somethin' and the closest road sign says it's on Navel Street. You know where I'm at?"

"Okay, cool. See ya in a bit. Sorry again."

After hanging up, Daryl stepped out of the phone booth with his head held down, letting out a deep exhale and running a hand through his hair until he heard a pair of feet shuffling up to him.

He looked up to see who it was, and it was you, the woman who waved at him.

"Need one?" You held out an open pack of Marlboro Reds, with only one cigarette missing from the pack.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." His thoughts stuttered for a moment because he was caught up in the fact that you came over to him. You're really pretty, and now Daryl feels like a nervous schoolboy trying to ask a girl to the prom just because of a simple gesture.

He grabbed a cigarette out of the box and reached to pull his lighter out of his pocket, only not to feel it, and checked the other pocket to have the same luck. "Shit."

You let out a small chuckle. "Need a light too?” You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and handed it over to him.

He nodded his thanks and popped the cig in his mouth before lifting the black bic with a spiderweb seemingly hand-painted on up to the end of the stick. Flicking the flame to life, he took a long inhale and handed you back the lighter, as he really took a moment to take in the sight of you. 

You were in a black tank top tucked into a pair of black ripped jean shorts. Under the pair of jean shorts were fishnets with an intricate pattern of moons and stars, and you had on a pair of slightly battered-up Doc Martens. 

As he exhaled the first plume of smoke into the night sky, he saw your kind smile, which sent a rush of warmth through his face. Your lips had a simple gloss on them, but your eyes were a different story, painted with smokey eyeshadow, sharp graphic eyeliner, and two rounds of mascara on each set of your top lashes. He also noticed the simple yet pretty titanium stud on the left side of your nose and two helix rings on both your ears.

He thought you were gorgeous, his heartbeat a slightly faster pace than what it normally rested at.

"Rough night?" You asked as you lit up a cigarette for yourself, letting out a slight gag at the taste and smell that you weren't used to, which caused Daryl to let out a small chuckle.

"Sorta. More of just hated the fact I had to call and wake someone up to come and get me. First time smokin'?" He said before he took another drag.

"How'd you know?" You said sarcastically as your face contorted in disgust a bit at the taste building up in your mouth and throat after each puff.

"Maybe try a different brand. You'll find one ya like." A small smile graced his lips as he butted off the ash at the end and took another drag. 

"Nah. Think I'm quitting after this one. I'll just stick to weed."

He let out a chuckle. "May I ask, why'd ya even start?"

You let out a small groan, running your hand through your hair in slight embarrassment. "I finally left my shitty boyfriend once and for all. I finally realized he'd never like me for the real me. I constantly had to put on this mask around him, and I finally found out that it was impossible to fix him and the fact he didn't actually like me. I know it sounds weird, but I guess my thought process was that my epiphany about him would stick with me after smoking one like a character in a movie or something." You let out a laugh. "Stupid, right?" 

He snubbed out the end of the cigarette, as it was almost a roach at this point. "Nah, it ain't stupid. A lot of my best thoughts come after smokin' one, cleared my head more times than I can count. You deserve one after the bullshit he put you through, I think. Hope the prick is havin' a shit night after realizin' he's lost you cause ya seem awesome to me so far."

You felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks at his words. "Thanks. I know I deserve better. I'm just pissed; it took me so long to realize it. So, anyway, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked yet."

"Name's Daryl; what's yours?"

You had a few good puffs left of your cig but decided to snub yours out as well since you didn't like it anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Daryl. My name is (Y/N). Do you wanna come sit with me at my spot against the wall? My most likely melted slushy is calling my name to get this taste out of my mouth." 

"Yeah, I can. Might be a bit till my ride gets here, so I might as well sit down." He started walking to your spot, and you followed in tow. 

When you got back to your spot, you looked down at your slushy on the ground. The dark purple concoction of blue raspberry and cherry slushy combo was completely melted. "Goddammit." You didn't fully care though; you paid for that slushy, because you were stubborn it meant you were going to have all of what you paid for, so you drank down the rest of the sugary liquid with a satisfied sigh. It was luckily still cold, at least, and it was just what you needed to get the taste of the cigarette out of your mouth.

As time passed, you and Daryl talked about whatever came to mind as you doodled some intricate pattern on the front of the pack of the Marlboro Reds with a sharpie, ultimately moving to the back when you ran out of room. You found out that he works as a mechanic for motorcycles and cars at a nearby auto body shop, that he rides a motorcycle that he built himself a few years ago, that he loves to hunt on occasion, specifically with a crossbow, and that he ran from the cops at a house party tonight.

You knew your short time with Daryl was up when you saw a 1987 Ford Sierra MK2 pull into a parking spot at the gas station, and Daryl stood up, doing a quick stretch. The man in the car smiled and made a small wave at you, and you did the same back.

"It was nice meetin' ya, (Y/N). I'd talk more, but I don't wanna keep him up any longer." He said as he gestured a hand towards the man who came to pick him up. 

"It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for talking to me, Daryl." You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and held them out to him. "Take these. You need them more than me. Plus, I just quit." You grinned at him as he took the box from you. 

"Holy shit, thank you." He smiled back as he placed the box in his own pocket and slowly started walking backward towards the car. "Hope ya have a good night and that Nick the dick has a shit one. 

You let out a laugh at the nickname Daryl gave your ex-boyfriend and waved him goodbye with a "You too." You leaned your head back against the wall, staring up at the night sky as your eyes finally began to feel tired, knowing you should head back to your friend's apartment soon and try and get some sleep before your nine AM shift. 

Once Daryl got in the car, he let out a quiet sigh as he looked out the window at you, wishing he dared to ask for your number. You were the first good conversation he'd had in a while, and his schoolboy-like crush on you kept growing the whole time you talked.

"So, who's that?" The man said as he shifted the car into gear, Daryl noticing the grin on his face.

"A girl that started talkin' to me after our call. Name's (Y/N)." He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, mindlessly tracing the pattern of doodles you did.

"You ask for her number? The car was now beginning to be backed out of its parking spot.

"Nah. Mind if I smoke?" Daryl shook the pack and began looking for one of the lighters he left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago. 

The man shook his head with a slight sigh and said, "Go ahead." He wasn't shaking his head over Daryl wanting to smoke, but over the fact he wouldn't ask for your number when he obviously liked you, but he knew he couldn't push him; he understood Daryl's nature.

Daryl looked back out the window at you, opening it as he blew out the first cloud of smoke. He then looked back down in his lap where the box lay, flipping it over to the back to see what you had drawn there as well. His breath hitched as he saw it. On the back was your phone number, and above it said, "Call me" with a smiley face. 

The tips of Daryl's ears were beet red, and he tried to hold back his face from turning the same color. He looked back out the window at you to see you grinning at him this time, to which he smiled and waved goodbye to you as the car pulled out of the lot. In Daryl's twenty-three years of life, he could say that this night was one of his best.

"Daryl, why'd you call me Mr. H again? Son, you've known me for five years; how many times do I gotta remind you to call me by my name? It's Dale for you."

Daryl let out a small cloud of smoke this time, wanting to savor this one on the peaceful ride back. "I'll tell ya again, it happens when I'm nervous; didn't wanna wake you up, s'all, and you still are my boss after all."

"Daryl, you're like a son to me, and I told you to never be nervous if you need help, and that includes coming and picking you up in the middle of the night if needed. I'm here for you." Dale placed his right hand on Daryl's shoulder, keeping his left on the wheel as he squeezed his shoulder lightly before returning it to the steering wheel.

"Now, it's not Mr. H or Mr. Horvath, son. It's Dale."

Daryl rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, sir," he joked, letting out a chuckle.

It was the next day around 10:30 PM when Daryl picked up the phone on his nightstand and finally called the number you gave him, nervously wrapping the cord around his finger. The phone only rang twice before the other end picked up, "Hey, is this (Y/N)?" 

The inner teenage girl in your brain screamed in excitement, so happy that he finally called. "Omg, Daryl! I was wondering when you were gonna call me. I've been waiting since I got off my shift."

"Didn't know if you worked a mornin' shift or got off at night, and I didn't wanna leave too many voicemails on your friend's phone."

"Yeah, I worked a morning shift at the diner today. I got off at five. Morning shifts are the fucking worst." You're lying on your stomach on the couch, playfully curling the phone's cord around your finger and kicking your feet back and forth in the air.

You and Daryl talked for an hour, mainly talking about the shitty customers you dealt with today, sounding especially frustrated about the woman who yelled at you just because the diner was out of unsweet tea that you couldn't do anything about because the place was also out of tea bags to make more. What did she want you to do? Just up and leave your job and go buy the tea bags, your fucking self?

"Even though I don't want to, I gotta go to bed 'cause I have another morning shift tomorrow. I get off at five, so call me around six-thirty, okay?" 

"I get off at five too. Works for me. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight to you too, Daryl."

The call ended, and you both looked up at your respective ceilings, smiling as warmth bloomed through your faces. You both slept well that night, falling asleep to the thought of calling each other tomorrow.

⋆☀︎｡ Extra author's note: Here's what Dale would look like in 1992, I took Dale's age of 64 from the show since the apocalypse started in 2010 so he'd be 46 in 1992. I think this picture of Jeffrey Demunn is from when he was 43 maybe? I can't remember but that's close enough to 46 and even if he isn't 43 in the image he fits the look of someone in their mid-forties. Just imagine him without the cowboy hat, okay? There's not a lot of pictures of him when he was younger.

⋆☀︎｡ Taglist: @mrdixon , @yevmarie , and @shadowcitrine

⋆☀︎｡ Divider creds: @ saradika, go check her account out! She has some very cute dividers!

[flagellant]

I remember you being something of a scholar on christian theology. I have a question if you don't mind. My tumblr is full of people clowning on american conservative catholics that are angry that the pope basically fired that bishop in Texas, and the tumblr posters saying "lol u disagree with the pope that makes you disagree w/ god's word" or "that makes u a protestant" etc etc.

And while I do enjoy dunking on the trad caths, I think I heard at some point that the pope isn't always talking with his authority as god's most special boy on earth. That most of the time he is just being a human and therefore could be wrong/make errors. Not that I care about the jerk bishop losing his job, but I'm curious, how do we know when the pope is or is not talking with the authority of God backing him up? Does he have to say a special phrase at the start and end of the speech, or hold both hands up above his head, or something?

Okay so what you're referring to here is actually the concept known as papal infallibility, which is one of my favorite pieces of Catholic canon for one very simple reason:

You learn about it as being essentially the Pope is God's most special boy on Earth and what he says is always directly spoken to him from God and therefore is infallible. And if you are like me when you first hear about this concept, you will immediately get trapped in shower arguments for the rest of your life fantasizing about calling the Pope homophobic and arguing for the Catholic church to please stop being so goddamned homophobic all the time.

This is when you learn that papal infallibility is much more fallible than it is made out to be, and this is basically the source of the issue with Strickland, Torres, and any other Bishop that Francyman has decided to give the boot. See, papal infallibility isn't merely a divine play-pretend godmode button, it's a complex and intricate place within theological debate and Vatican hierarchical bureaucratic structure.

Without going into too much of a in-depth explanation, another way to think of papal infallibility is that it's essentially the Holy Roman Catholic version of the President of the United States declaring an executive order that bypasses the Senate. Infallibility is used for similar reasons--it's got a semi-strict set of rules attached to its usage, which means that the Pope is not constantly infallible, but rather that the Pope as God's chosen elect on Earth therefore commands His greatest attention, which allows the Pope direct intercession and communication with God on paths that the Church as a body should walk.

There are usually supposed to be bureaucratic machinations for dethrocking or deposing a bishop, much of which is directly connected to confirming and providing direct evidence for certain crimes that the Holy See would consider too serious to allow him to continue serving in his position. But the Pope is the divinely elected God-Emperor Best Favorite of Oily Josh and his Daddio Self, so generally speaking when it comes to the Pope, there's always the option baked in for him to say "Fuck you I'm the Pope and you're going to do what I say without precedent".

This is the core of the issue for the current Strickland debacle--there might not be hard-and-fast written rules stating that Strickland can be removed from office through traditional means, but Francis doesn't approve of what he's preaching and using his office for since it's causing the minorest of itty-bitty issues with his principled stance of being The Pope That Liberals Might Vaguely Not Hate As Much. So he's functionally exercising a form of papal infallibility by skipping over procedures and etiquette to tell Strickland "Fuck you I'm the Pope and you're going to do what I say without precedent", and Strickland is going "But I thought you would only do that to bishops who belong to brown countries :(", and here we are.