#and i wanna gnaw and bite on him so badly as always

[thekidsarentalright]

patrick beetlejuice in birmingham <3 (x)

[santigarcia]

Electric Plug 🔌

Human Touch Part Seven

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

word count: 4.5k

rating: M for smut, dirty talk, slight mentions of violence and cheating (pls don’t read unless ur 18+!)

summary: You go see Nathan after his accident, and an old flame rekindles. 

a/n: thank you all so much for reading this series! let me know what yall think! thank you to @punkpascal​ and @sergeantkane​​ as always!!

You call the hospital, pleading with them to give you information if he’s ok. But all you hear is a loud click. This is the only time that Nathan’s fame bothers you. It makes you sick to think that people want to know if he’s ok for their gossip mags. You feel guilt, and that gnawing raw feeling deep in your gut that only he gave you.

For the next few weeks, you keep tabs on him. Your wedding is in less than a month, and you’ve spent more time stalking the internet for info on your ex than you have with your own wedding. But all the work is being done for you. Jack seems to be more involved in it than you.

All you can think about is Nathan. You suppose that’s a bad thing, right before your wedding. But you want to know he’s alright. He could have died thinking you hate him. And while you did for some time, you don’t anymore. If you’re being totally honest you kind of hated him even when you were together. He drove you insane sometimes, but you miss that.

As soon as you get the word Nathan has been sent home, you call your cousin up.

“Aren’t you getting married in a week?”

Yes, yes you are. But you need to see him. You tell her that you need to get a way for just a day or two, that the stress of the wedding is too much. She agrees to let you come up, and you plan to fly back to the states together.

It’s been so long since you got lost and showed up soaking wet at Nathan’s door. This time, you dress for the occasion. Your best little black dress. Sleek heels. You do your hair, makeup, and wear the perfume that used to drive him wild. You’re not entirely sure why you do this, but deep down you know. You just won’t admit it. You want him to admit he fucked up. You want him to want you back.

So, when you knock on his door, you yourself feel a little thrill. But the nerves hit. You haven’t spoken to him in at least two years, and neither of you got closure from the situation. You’re about to reopen a wound that’s barely healed.

Or maybe not – he’s not answering the door.

You start to bang on it, you know he’s home. The lights are on.

“Nathan! Open up!”

When the door finally opens, you’re greeted with Nathan, his face one of surprise, but it quickly turns to a scowl.

”I know I am the last person you want to see right now but-“

“What? What do you want?” he cuts you off. You think of all the things you want to tell him. To ask him. You want to apologize; you want him to apologize. You want to know if he’s ok. But that’s not what comes out.

“Ok I know things ended badly, but I'm getting married next week and-“ you grab him and kiss him deeply. Your tongue delves into his mouth, and he quickly deepens the kiss himself. “I need you.” You tell him, you’re breathless.

“You’re gonna regret this, baby,” he grabs your ass and pulls you to him, and somehow manages to close the door behind you both.

“Make me regret it,” you moan into him. Damn, you’ve missed this. This is the raw passion you’ve been missing. His strong arms hold you tight and he backs you into a wall. His hands are on your dress, already quick to hike it up over your hips.

With the quirk of a brow, he looks at you when he sees you’re without underwear. Ok, maybe this is what you wanted.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you, baby.” He sucks on your neck as he wraps your legs around his waist. His teeth almost hurt, but it’s a good pain, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. “You shouldn’t even be near here. Near me.”

“Please, I’m begging you,” you whine. You didn’t mean to sound this desperate but now that his hands and mouth are on you it just comes out. You claw at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. You need his skin on yours. He pulls back to tug it off, and in the process, he rips your dress open. This frees your bare chest, and he grabs your tits with a fiery aggression. He squeezes them and bites on your shoulder.

His chest is heaving, and the truth spills out.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, you know that? No one takes my cock quite as well as you do.”

You hate that he’s right, and it only makes you wetter for him.

“No one gives it like you do,” you tell him, moaning trying to get him to push himself inside. You’re desperate, aching.

“Damn right.” He lightly smacks your clit, and you cry out. “I’m the only one who fucks this pussy right.”

“Please!” you buck your hips trying to urge him on. “I need you!”

He finally gives you what you want and thrusts into you hard. He fills you so well, and you choke out a gasp. He’s so proud of himself, he can’t let this moment slip by.

“Oh, you always take me so well kitten,” he grunts shifting his position and hitting you deeper. “This is my pussy, isn’t it? You love it when I fuck this tight pussy? Say it.”

“Nathan!” you dig your nails into his back, and he buries his face into your neck.

“Say it.”

“I love it when you fuck this tight pussy!” you scream as he rubs his thumb over your clit. He’s giving it hard, but you need it. You need all of him. And he fuckin’ knows it.

“Yeah, I can tell how much you love it,” he growls. “You love having my big cock inside you, don’t you? I bet your little fuck toy fiancé can’t fill you nearly as well as I do, does he?”

“No,” you gasp, “only you. I belong to you.”

“Good girl, fuck!” his head falls on your shoulder, he rubs your clit harder to match his heavy thrusts. “I want you to come for me and show me just how good you can be. Okay kitten?”

You whine and claw at him, “I’m so close, please! Let me come!”

“Do it. Come all over my fucking cock.”

With the sound of his voice and the press of his thumb, you find your release. It’s white hot and intense, and your lower back cramps from the intensity of your squeezing around him. You gasp for air and grunt while he still pushes into you. He’s chasing his high and you want him to hit it.

“FUCK! Fuck, can I come inside you?” his voice is full of need, he’s not above begging to fill you up.

“Do it,” you say back to him. “I want all of you.” And that’s the truth.

“Fuck, fuck. That’s it. Oohhh. Oh shit, you take my cum so well,” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. Your bodies still but your chests heave together.

“He doesn't - not like this.” In fact, he’s never given you such pleasure. It’s only ever about him.

“Poor baby, you’ve been neglected, haven’t you?” He smirks kissing you again. “Your thin dick fiancé can’t take care of you properly, hmm?”

“Nathan you wouldn't believe, he- he just doesn't- You know exactly what to do to get me soaked,” you sigh and flutter around him when he pulls out.

“I know you. More than just sexually.”

You nod, he truly does.

“Fuck we made a mess,” he grins and sets you down on the floor. Your knees tremble and your dress is torn around your waist. Nathan’s slick is sliding down your thighs. “Come on,” he hands you his shirt off the floor, and he pulls your torn-to-shreds dress off your body.

You follow him down the familiar maze of his home into your bedroom. You sit down on the bed and he disappears into the bathroom. He returns with a rag to clean you up, and when he’s finished, he lays down beside you. He curls up close to you and kisses your neck before he gets settled.

It’s quiet for a while. You just hold each other in silence. It’s nice. A still moment with him is what you’ve been missing.

He breaks the silence with a sigh, then comes the question you’ve been waiting for.

”Do… do you love him?”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you feel your chest tighten. Nathan’s calm, but you know he’s dying for an answer.

“I- I don't know anymore. I started dating him after we broke up because well, he wasn't you. And now that's- that's the problem. He's safe.  But he’s boring. And he only cares about himself.”

It’s as if you’re just now realizing what you’ve known all along.

“Don’t marry him.” It’s not a plea, it’s not a demand. It’s a casual statement. But when he buries his face in your neck that tells you how he really feels. “I know we didn’t part on the best of terms, but… fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“Really? I- I mean I know we just angry fucked – But I thought you would never wanna see me again. Especially after what I did to you. We both did stupid things.”

“Baby I missed you the whole time. Didn’t you know? I was angry and scared because I was in love with you and it just seemed better to let you go then to end up hurting you.” He sighs pulling you in closer, his lips press softly into your skin. “But then cuz I was an asshole I hurt you and pushed you out.”

“I know, I think I always knew.”

“And he’s cheating on you anyways.”

“What?”

“Oh shit, that’s right. You never saw the texts. I told you everything.”

You sit up and look down at him laying in the bed. He’s so gorgeous, it’s as if you’ve forgotten. You’re still that girl with a crush on him.

“I ignored the texts cuz I was mad at you over the AI. He’s really cheating on me?”

“I know,” he smiles sadly. “I’m onto new tech now though. Smart Home Devices. But yeah, shit baby, I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I stalked him online,” he clears his throat. “You know-“

“Cuz you were jealous,” you giggle and lean down to kiss the grey spot on his head.

“Ok, yeah fuck it I was. I wanted to see who I lost you to. But then it was pretty obvious he was cheating, and I tried to let you know, but you never answered.”

“I’m sorry about that, by the way. For not answering.”

“I’m sorry I did all that behind your back.”

“It’s just- if I had been here,” you start to sniffle. You look down at the scar on his chest, and it makes your heart pound. “What if something had happened, and I never got to tell you…” you wipe your tears on your sleeve. “Are you okay?” You reach out and touch the scar on his chest. His skin chills from your touch, but he’s still, he lets you touch him.

“I’m not okay without you. But yeah, I’m fine. Couple scars.”

“And what did you mean earlier? When you said you were in love with me? Was? Does this mean you aren't in love with me anymore? What am I even doing here? I don't know what to do anymore. Everyone has been making decisions for me. No one cares about what I want.”

“Hey, easy kitten.” That familiar nickname. “No, I… I’m still in love with you.” He sits up to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. “I want you to choose. if you want to stay… I want to be better for you. But I want you to make the choice yourself.”

“Nathan, I- the fact that you want me to choose is making me want to stay.”

“Then stay,” he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “But only if it’s what you think is best for you.”

“You're what's best for me, no one has cared for me like you do. And no one gets under my skin like you do either,” you lean up to kiss his lips. “Listen to me right now Nathan. If I do this, if I call off that wedding, you have to promise me right now some changes will be made around here. For both of us.”

“I promise. I swear. Name it and it’s done.”

“I'm not telling you to stop drinking, but go easy ok? You scare me sometimes when you overdo it.”

“Done. Truth be told, if I have you, I won’t really need to drink. Being with you… it quiets my mind. What else?”

“I wanna be the only one. If you need to, I don't know, fuck one of the AI’s for some science thing that's fine, just tell me about it and don’t lie to me. But if it's for you to blow off steam? Come get me. Ok?”

“You’re the only pussy I want, I promise. And I’m done with them. Could never get them wet and warm like you,” he winks and pulls you into his arms. “You’re all I need.”

“And last thing….I need you to help me think of a way to tell my family and my fiancé this whole thing is off,” you wince at the thought. Either way you’re breaking it off with Jack because he’s cheating but bringing Nathan back after having just slept with him means you cheated too. “Because I technically cheated on him with you,” you say aloud.

“Nah, kitten. You decided it was over with him the moment you came out here. Fuck having cold feet, you were done.”

“You’re right,” you sigh, you couldn’t admit it to yourself, but he sees right through you. He always has.

“I know,” he grins.

“Ugh you ass,” you shove his chest.

“Ow, my scar!” he flops back dramatically on the bed. You play along and kiss all over his face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“I’m not. What if you had gotten hurt? I’d never forgive myself. I was already a damn mess after you left.”

You can’t curl into him any closer, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. His warmth is so comforting. The smell of his soap on his skin. The expensive beard oil. You’ve missed rubbing that into his beard. Everything about being close to him reminds you that this is right, this is what you want. He is who you want.

“What about the wedding? It’s next week,” you sigh. The thought fills you with dread having to cancel everything.

“What if you went through with it? And then I come in and crash the wedding,” he chuckles. “Always wanted to crash a wedding.”

“Wait, that’s not a bad idea,” you giggle.

“We can do anything you want, baby. Hell, I’ll crash your wedding and be your groom if you want.”

“Did you- did you just say what I thought you said?” you sit up to look at him, you want to read the expression on his face. His eyes are serious, but there’s a slight smile on his lips, he nibbles on his lip.

“If you wanted. I know we’ve never talked about that, but… I’d like to. I wouldn’t mind getting hitched,” he shrugs, but you know he means it.

“I thought you didn’t believe in marriage,” you feel tears welling up in your eyes. This changes everything.

“People assume that,” he chuckles sitting up, his hands rub your thighs. “I’m not opposed. And if it would make you happy, then why the hell not?”

“I want that more than anything!” you lean forward to kiss him, and he leans back pulling you with him. His thumb strokes your back while you kiss his cheeks and lips.

“Then let’s get married. I wanna make you Mrs. Bateman,” he hums kissing you and he squeezes your hip.

“You’re gonna hate Jack,” you laugh realizing they’ll have to meet at some point.

“He’ll hate me when he realizes I’m stealing his fiancé.”

“I can’t believe I was going to marry him. I felt like I had to. I was mad at you, and I thought that would be my way to get back at you by saying yes, even though I felt pressured. I don't know what made me come back here to you, but I'll spend the rest of my life glad I did.”

“You came back because I’m irresistible,” he gives you a playful look. “I’m glad you came. I’m so glad you’re back. I want you to make your own decisions, so… I really hope you don’t feel like you have to marry me.”

“No, I want to. I want to marry you. I want you in my life. You respect me enough to make my own decisions. And you know where my g-spot is.”

He snorts out a laugh, “Ahhh, yes, my primary function as your future husband. Honestly wouldn’t mind if you just used me like a glorified sex toy. That’d probably be hot.”

You smile and kiss him again. You can’t seem to stop, and you don’t want to. He wraps his arms around you and your legs tangle between the sheets. He pushes into you slowly, your bodies mold together and it’s everything you could want.

“I can’t wait to crash your wedding,” he muses. You laugh imaging the chaos.

“You can’t wait to make a scene, can you?”

“Kitten, I am the scene.”

“What am I getting myself into?” you laugh.

You fall asleep in his arms that night and leaving his warmth the next morning is one of the hardest things you do.

“It’s just a few more days kitten,” he reassures you. And you know that but having him and then leaving is worse than you could have imagined.

Now you have to go back and pretend you’re excited to marry Jack. The excitement part is easy, you are excited about getting married, just not to Jack. You almost feel guilty, living this lie. But then you remember Jack has been cheating on you this entire time.

You went back and read the texts Nathan sent you on your flight home. Some of them broke your heart. Some of them were genuinely funny and he was trying to make you laugh. Anger burned in you when you found the texts about Jack. It was plain as day and you felt stupid, you’d missed it. You know all these women and it makes so much sense. There’d be nights when he was gone and had no excuse to be out of the house.

You don’t blame Nathan for fucking one of his AI’s. He was stressed and overwhelmed with love for you he panicked. Sure, it was a dick move, and he wasn’t thinking straight. But he knew it was wrong and apologized for it. Over and over. He’d tell you later that after you left, he couldn’t get off like he could when he was with you. The AI fucking was over, and after one almost killed him, he gave it up.

But Jack is flat out cheating on you and has been lying about it for years. He had the nerve to propose to you while he had women on the side. You feel so stupid.

You’re out of it during the rehearsal dinner. You pay attention to nothing during the actual rehearsal. Nathan is going to be there tomorrow and break it all up. You feel those butterflies thinking about him coming to save you.

He’s nervous. He’s barely talked to you, but you know why. This is a big change for him, but one he’s ready to embrace. He’s not one to back down from a challenge.

You wake up the day of your wedding with a text from Nathan. All it says is “good morning.”

If there was any doubt he wouldn’t show up, this blew them all away. He’ll be there.

You just don’t know when.

It changes everything. When you put on your dress, all your bridesmaids and family comment on how you’re glowing and radiant. You got this dress with Nathan in mind, you can’t wait for him to see you in it.

There’s a tremble in your step as you’re escorted down the aisle. No one knows the secret you’re hiding.

It’s at this moment you start to get anxious. You don’t know when he’ll interrupt. What if he backs out and you have to leave Jack in the middle of the ceremony?

Jack takes your hands; your heartbeat is rapid and sweat is on your palms. This isn’t the man you want, and it’s taking all of your willpower to not turn and look for Nathan.

The minister opens his mouth to speak when you hear a loud “STOP.”

Everyone else turns with shock to see Nathan at the end of the aisle, but you- you’re beaming, and tears fall down your cheeks.

His expression is soft, his eyes look like they’re about to spill over with tears. You’ve never seen him look so handsome. His beard is trimmed, he’s in tight grey slacks and a crisp white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled up on his forearms, and you want to eat him alive he looks so good.

You waste no time running down the aisle to him. His arms open ready to catch you in a hug when you leap for him. He chuckles when your bodies touch- the air knocked out of him.

“Hey gorgeous,” he kisses your cheek. “You ready?” he asks stroking your cheek softly.

You nod and he takes your hand.

“Don’t look back.”

You take his hand; he squeezes it tight and you walk out front where a sleek black car is waiting for you. It takes you into town to the justice of the peace. The two of you thought this was simpler – and more appropriate than crashing a wedding and taking it over for your own. And as much as Nathan likes to make a scene, a smaller ceremony is more his speed.

“You look beautiful,” he tells you as you walk inside. He can’t take his eyes off you.

“Just don’t rip this one in half,” you snort out a laugh taking his arm.

“Baby, I’ll buy you a new one,” he pretends to pout.

When you reach the office, you gasp to see a handful of your immediate family standing there waiting for you.

“How did you-“ you gape looking around at them all.

“Called your family ahead of time,” Nathan shrugs. “Consider it one of my many wedding gifts to you baby.”

You marry him there in that little office. His warm hands cup your cheeks when he pulls you in for a kiss. He cries. It’s exactly the kind of wedding you pictured with him. No mess. No fuss.

But you take full advantage of the reception. Everyone else is there and is happy to welcome you. You’re glad for it because you finally get some good quality pictures of you and Nathan together.

He indulges you in all the little wedding reception traditions. He feeds you a bite of cake, and maybe kisses you a little too dirty for that crowd, but you can’t be bothered to care.

The best surprise of the night is when he pulls you on the dancefloor. His arms wrapped tight around you as you sway together.

“Where do you want to go on our honeymoon?” he asks you. “Anywhere you want to go. Name it.”

“Anywhere there’s a bed,” you giggle. You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe deeply. This is where you’re meant to be.

Your dance ends when the DJ starts to play a funky disco song. And it’s all Nathan can do not to start dancing right away. You burst out laughing and let him go. He dances all around you while tears of laughter stream down your face. A little crowd has gathered around watching him and he doesn’t even see them, only you.

He takes a bow when that song ends, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed that hard.

The moment turns when a very drunk Jack walks in.

“Oh no,” you grab Nathan’s arm. He pushes you behind him when Jack makes his way towards the two of you. His speech is slurred, and his hair is a mess.

“So, this is who you left me for?” he looks Nathan up and down. Nathan’s jaw is ticked in anger, but he doesn’t want to waste his time on him.

“You were cheating on me, anyway, why do you care?” you shake your head. You’re still so angry at him.

“So? Didn’t you say he was too?” he jabbed a finger onto Nathan’s chest. He brushed him off and breathed out his nose like an angry bull ready to charge.

“It was a mistake dude, and I regret it every fuckin’ day.”

“Did she tell you? She called me Nathan in bed? How I had to live with the reminder of you?”

“Oh, so cheating makes it better?” Nathan’s blood pressure was beginning to rise.

“Well, I needed to get pussy from somewhere, since she wasn’t putting out-“ Jack could barely finish his sentence before Nathan’s fist collided with his nose – breaking it.

Jack leaned back holding his bloody nose as Nathan grabbed him by his shirt collar.

“Don’t you ever insult my wife like that again.”

Jack wanted to swing back and attempted. But Nathan caught his fist, and punched Jack in the stomach. Shame more than anything else sent Jack on his way.

Nathan turned to you to apologize for making a scene, but you’ve never been so attracted to him as you have in this moment. Your new husband just defended your honor.

“Take me home,” you wrap your arms around him.

“You wanna join the-mile-high club? Or can we go fuck in your childhood bedroom since your house isn’t far from here? Do you have any posters of me on your wall?”

You shake your head with a laugh and playfully smack his arm. You pull away from him and greet a family member, and Nathan chases after you.

“That’s not an answer. Babe! Do you have one?”

“Would it make a difference if I said yes?” you grin turning back to him. You loop your hands around his neck, and he puts his hands on your hips.

“Fuck. Fuck, it would make a huge fuckin’ difference. Can we spend the honeymoon in your room?”

“So, you can look at a poster of yourself while you have sex with your new wife?” your smile gets bigger and bigger.

“Fuck. What picture is it?”

“Nathan!”

“Just kidding,” he smiles kissing your lips. “I booked us a nice hotel for our first night.”

“No posters in there,” you giggle.

“I’ll buy one,” he kisses you deeper. “Do you really have one of me in your room-“

He’ll find out soon enough, but you’re not going to tell him that you don’t just have one – but two.

 xx

  tagging: @pascal-isaac​​, @wasicskosgirl​​, @velvetmel0n​​, @huliabitch​​, @shadow-assassin-blix​​, @writefightandflightclub​​, @aellynera​​, @softboywriting​​, @veuliee2​​, @spider-starry​​, @mylifeliterally​​, @millllenniawrites​​, @ntlmundy​​, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire​​, @mandoplease​​, @anetteaneta​​, @feelmyroarrrr​​, @artsymaddie​​, @shakespeareanwannabe​​, @poedameronsbeard​​, @deanfanatic67​​​, @magicsuperheroes​​​, @phoenixhalliwell​​​, @that-one-weird-one​​​, @mariesackler, @yourbucky084​​​, @woakiees​

[seijohsfairy]

𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁

sometimes you meet a stranger on a windy balcony in the middle of the city, and sometimes you fall in love with him too.

.wordc. 4k+ tw yandere, implied noncon, toxic relationships, older meian, daddy kink, cunnilingus, brief drug use, fluff ??

+

If the light hits you right, you look infinite. And even if it doesn’t, you still look about a million miles out of his league for what he’s concerned. All bright smiles and quiet apologies when passing by people. He should be a waste of free time to you for all intents and purposes. A face in the crowd. The thought makes his chest feel a bit tight though, because despite the irrationality of it, he still wants to be here. With you, bathed in the glow of the sun and resting so peacefully beside him.

He doesn’t like feeling like just another guy, reminds him too much of his past disaster relationship. Which is why you’re so different, so perfect. Other people judge, you don’t. You never judge him, so he thinks the least he can do is the same in return. His ex-wife still has the keys to his place, though she doesn’t have the intention of using them ever again. She’ll lose the keys long, long before he changes all the locks. You still have to get settled into his bed first, but if you were to ask for the keys he’d let another set be made instantly.

Because he’s known you for only a little while and you already have his heart beating erratically. No longer overcome with the sense of longing. If anyone were to ask, and his friends do on occasion, he’d tell them this is it.

Now, there’s you. A stunning, young thing, beaming warmth and goodness from the seams. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing here, truth be told, because as much as he stares at you through thinly veiled casual curiosity, there’s no changing the fact that he could be twice your age and you should most likely be disgusted by him.

He’d been coming to that quiet balcony staring out into nothing everyday for months. But you’d walked up to smoke beside him, resting your chin on the railing and looking so fucking small and vulnerable. Maybe it’s the way you don’t even spare him a second glance, not gawking at the huge, hulking attraction of a guy he finds himself being looked at so often, or the little tears that glisten at the base of your lashes as you take a deep pull and let the drug filter in. He guesses that to you, most people are big and overwhelming, considering.

He’s no longer in his prime. He knows it better than most, is confronted with it every time his reflection catches him. He’d thought it then, still thinks it now. Older, divorced and between being busy with work and his growing collection of dropped hobbies, there’s hardly anything he can offer you. He’s at least lucky he’s not balding, but he knows he looks pretty much his age with the thin lines here and there, slightly greying temples and stubble that doesn’t stay away long when he shaves. God, he feels old.

It’s a fucking miracle and a half that he managed to keep his usual wit, entertaining you in your nightly loneliness and carefully offering to walk you back to your street for safety. It’s difficult not to seem like a threat when you’re— him, but he’d been genuine. You were too tiny and kind to be out by yourself. You’d taken it, too sure that he was out for no harm. Looking back, that young naivety is something he should be worried about.

He didn’t buy his way into your pants that night, but you’d clearly been some level of upset, so that first time had been a lucky lay. A one off, he’d thought. The way you creamed around his cock and moaned so softly, so beautiful when digging your nails into his shoulders. You could’ve told him it was a dream, slipped out like nothing ever happened.

He’d forgive you. At this point he’s almost certain he’d do anything for you. If you asked him to seriously injure your asshole boss for you, he wouldn’t think long. You’re too kind to ask that though, too forgiving too. He takes a few deep breaths as he thinks, finally tearing his eyes away from your cute, sleeping pout to look out the window.

There’s some noise from the waking city outside, he still worries it’s gonna wake you badly and you’ll curse him for one of the many mishaps he’s committed against you and walk right out. You could’ve, probably should’ve. But you’ve ended up in his bed a few times now, and every time it gets harder to just let you go with a coffee and a quick kiss that doesn’t promise much of anything. He’s not even sure that you have his number. But as long as you keep showing up to that balcony, he’ll give you whatever you want.

An almost unnoticeable tap comes to his shoulder. When he turns, you’re up, barely. Eyes open just the tiniest sliver, shuffling a little closer to his warmth. Fuck. You’re so fucking tiny compared to him, his huge, burly body sticking out like a sore thumb from the blankets while you’re buried deep in them. He stays on his back when he reaches over and runs a thumb along your cheekbones, letting the soft skin warm under it. You snuggle into his chest with the last of your fruity, soft perfume that clashes so violently against his.

It makes his chest feel like it’s caving in, pulling the air out of his lungs with each move you make. And he’s always had a bit of a possessive streak, but this is on a whole new level. He doesn’t want you to leave. He shouldn’t let you.

“Mornin’,” he offers, voice too deep and a bit raspy. You hum. Your palm presses to his chest, not hard enough to push, though that is what he thinks at first. Only just enough pressure to be present, to feel his skin under yours. Hesitantly, he rests his hand on your hip under the blankets, running the calloused pads of his fingertips over your exposed side. You mumble something about the light and the curtains, slurring the words and making him utterly weak once again. “Yeah, s’my bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you make no effort to get up.

“Have breakfast with me?” You look utterly content in his arms. Say yes. Say yes. “Or ya can use the shower, I think ‘m gonna take a day off.” He knows, actually, because he’ll at least drive you back home if nothing else. You’re not taking a tram all the way back to your apartment, he won’t let you. He doesn’t feel the need to tell you that right now though.

Doesn’t need to tell you how jealous he feels when he sees you text someone in the morning, but it’s only because he knows how lovable you are. It’s every soft breath, every time you talk or wrap your lips around your straw and each time you adjust your bra or panties or prance in with skirts that should be too fucking short to wear outside, or say his name in that lower, softer rhythm that has him going entirely crazy.

And with a mumbled agreement, he pulls you close and presses a kiss to the top of your head, as you let out a sleepy giggle and kiss his neck.

+

It’s been almost two months of unspoken routine. You don’t always show, but most nights you do. At least once a week for sure. You know the way to his place, hid out from the rain once. You know where he stashes the fresh towels and you’ve flipped through the pictures of him in the national hall with his arms thrown around his team, drenched in sweat. You talk over a glass of champagne that you admit to bringing to impress him with hot cheeks. It takes a little coaching but you let him in too, the few times he visits your apartment, your roommate out for the night.

But you look more at ease in his house, he thinks. Giddy being swayed in his strong arms and being lifted off your feet to reach the higher shelves. He guesses two months in you reach the honeymoon phase, though you’ve still yet to label it, which admittedly, gnaws at him. You don’t seem like the type to leave his house and run into someone else’s arms, but sometimes he thinks the one mark over the row of other splotches on your tits doesn’t look familiar enough to be his.

Sometimes he walks you to the tram and some guy sneaks a good look at your ass, and you don’t flinch. You smile at the next door neighbor, a guy frustratingly close to your age, and he smiles back. Maybe, maybe you’re fucking them too, it does seem to come naturally to you. He doesn’t resent you for it, but that guy— you wince when his fingers dig too hard into your hip. That’s when he has to soften, apologize and lean down to kiss you, which at least you don’t shy away from.

One Saturday you come to the balcony late.

Nervously picking at the elbows of your sweater, he takes a long look at you. You walk up closer after a breath of silence, before slowly wrapping yourself around his side. Your breathing is shaky when you cling on. “I’m glad you waited for me, I don’t— wanna be alone right now.” He knows he shouldn’t, but he tilts your head up into view to watch your teary eyes clench shut, you’re shaking. He might be too, but for different reasons.

You’re so perfect. An angel, his angel, no one should so much as look at you wrong.

“Who did this?” he breathes, and you flinch at the harshness of his voice. But he could never hurt you. Ever. There’s a sprouting seed of anger growing with each passing second though. He lets out a trembling breath. “Tell me who did this to ya.” He’ll kill them, he’ll kill them, whoever hurt you, he’ll—

“No,” you say. Why? His mouth is already opening again, but you tug at his shirt collar and look at him so sadly that for a moment he forgets all about anything else. Nothing beside you matters anyway. “Leave it, Shugo.” You all but pull yourself toward him by the fabric to make a little kissy pout, and fuck, there it is. His little baby. He kisses you, gently and slowly a few times as you whisper it to him again. You can sense that he’s mad, but there’s no way you know just how much.

He lets you kiss him deeper, tongue melting with yours and pull you up against his body for safety, lets you pretend that everything is okay and eventually laugh it off as you two stumble into his apartment with heavy pants, biting down on the skin of your neck hard. He throws your legs over his shoulders and buries his head between your legs and makes you cum, and cum and cum. Lets you fall asleep right after, brushing his fingers along your shoulder and so close he’s scared his heartbeat will wake you.

It’s an hour or so after that your phone shakes, lighting up with a message. Someone named Alex apologizing about the fight and about making you cry. More messages come, a group chat of your “friends” this time and how they should have been more understanding, that they too are sorry. The timing is too neat not to have been talked about too. Would you really miss a bunch of gossip like that?

The light shuts off again after a few seconds, and he stares down at you sleeping so peacefully. Is it so wrong to just want you to be happy like this all the time, not worrying about any of them? You’re safe in his arms. Other people are unpredictable. They cause issues.

You’re too sweet to see it though, but he’s got some years of experience on you.

After a shower early in the morning he goes out for coffee, back again before you wake up. He smiles a bit wider when you do wake and your troubles from last night seem to have evaporated with the sun. His innocent, perfect little flower. He’ll never let you feel like that again.

Shugo watches you sit on the counters and talk as you lick at the whipped cream moustache, kisses you until you melt in his hold too. He asks you to be his girlfriend with a deep rumble of his morning voice, and you say ‘yes’, eyes wide with surprise but happy nevertheless.

He doesn’t tell you it when pushing your hair away from your face, kissing down your neck and feeling your legs wrap around his waist. But he really loves you, you know?

+

Your friend Alex is declared missing six days after your fight with him, and you’re inconsolable for a few hours when the police calls. He understands that, though the tears in your eyes are a bit too much for him. Your friend hurt you, wounded you, you shouldn’t be this sad. What comes around goes around, doesn’t it? But he understands that you’re too kind and naive to see it. However, he doesn’t understand when you tell him you need a few days to be alone.

It won’t do you any good, you’ll just be lonely and he tries to tell you as much, but you just get more upset at his touch. You push his hands off when he tries to pull you back, and he’s gotta admit, that stings.

“He’s just missing,” he ends up mumbling, “it’s not like he’s dead.”

Your eyes go wide, and you stare at him for a few moments, before getting off the couch and walking over to the hall and when he tries to ask where you’re going, you’re basically shooting him lightning, your tears running in crooked lines down your face. “I can’t believe you just said that like it’s no big deal that he’s gone,” you hiss, and maybe it’s that youthful fighting spirit that breaks out next when he tries to comfort you again. “Don’t fucking touch me, I’m going home.” The clock is so loud as it ticks. Oh, so that’s how it is. You’re attached to your friends like that, yeah?

He watches you stomp around his house as you collect your stuff, whispering curses under your breath when you can’t find your shoes fast enough. He stays quiet. You pause before leaving, tell him you’re going to your best friend’s place, and that he shouldn’t worry. He might have responded before you slam the door, he’s a bit too lost in thought.

You’re perfect for him, one little fight won’t change that, you’re not to blame here. But it becomes glaringly clear that he’s right. Your friends are no good.

+

Sometimes you feel like you’re here too often, considering it’s only been three months and a bit. You like Shugo a lot though, he’s as sweet as he’s big and you think it’s the former Captain in him that always seems to know you before you know you. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s so attractive it makes you dizzy. But despite all his best efforts, it’s been a bit lonely. And quiet. This isn’t necessarily a strange thing in itself, if not for the way you left it off with your friends.

Dropping off your radar so slowly it’s barely noticeable, the people you talk to everyday don’t start conversation anymore. Your messages go unread for days at a time, and when they’re finally opened it’s the same short response. ‘Super busy, no time to talk.’ You in comparison have never had this much free time, but ever since the fight Shugo’s been on his best behaviour. He even made sure to move his work home so you wouldn’t be too alone while you’re still on break. His idea too, said the stress has clearly been taking a toll on you.

He’s not entirely wrong either. With everything changing so suddenly, you’ve never felt smaller. You feel fragile. Shugo’s good company though, never bothered by your attention being on him. You let out a breath, drumming your fingers on your knees, deciding it’s been a bit. You get off the bed and tiptoe into the living room where he sits with his eyes aimed at the screen, hair loose and dress shirt two buttons lower than it should be to keep you sane.

You walk up behind your big hulk of a boyfriend to put your chin on his shoulder, hugging him close. Shugo makes a soft noise of agreement, and you rest your nose at his cheek. “Are you hungry? I can make you a snack.”

“S’alright, baby. ‘M gonna finish up ‘ere and pay attention to ya.” With a few clicks more he closes the laptop, getting up from the chair and sweeping you up into a bridal lift so quickly it makes you hick, giggles breaking out after.

“You’re already done?”

His pretty eyes are aimed down at you with a kind of shine you rarely see with other people. It’s so intense, sometimes it’s almost a bit scary. But to have been a top level athlete for years does take a ton of dedication, so it’s no wonder he’s dedicated in other areas as well. “No, just realized I’ve got a hunger for somethin’ else.” He easily carries you back to where you came from, tossing you down on the bed and kneeling over you. His lips curl a little when you blink up at him, before he nods at your chest. “Take that off for me.”

The flimsy top you’d thrown on comes off just as easily at the order, pulling the few bows and shrugging it off. You smile at him sweetly as you grab your tits, pushing them together a little. “Like this, daddy?” He grunts some agreement when he lowers himself, but you roll over before he can use his mouth on you like he so obviously wants to, grin slipping on. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you down on the bed more by your shorts and you squeak when his palm instead traces along your back, settling at the top of your spine and wrapping around your neck. The bed shifts when he sits down over your legs.

“You’re gonna be testy?” It barely takes a second for him to have you back the other way, yanking your legs up and pulling your shorts along with your underwear over the curve of your ass and up your legs. “I don’t fuckin’ think so,” he says, pushing one knee to your chest and you quickly hook your arm around it. He dips down to press a few kisses down your chest, then licking a stripe up the underside and taking your nipple into his mouth. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of how easy it is to let him take the lead, his fingers slipping between your legs to dip into your little cunt and rubbing your clit.

“Mhm, wet already?” He chuckles, sucking harder until you mewl under him and spread your thighs more. Tugging him a bit closer by his hair, he slips a finger inside and pushes his palm up to your sensitive nub, sucking marks all over the last ones. You shake under him, rolling your hips to meet the precise, practiced way his finger curls into you before he adds another. With a loud pop he disconnects from your other nipple to squeeze your tits together, then kneeling at the side of the bed. “C’mere.”

Your hips angled up to give him better access, he fucks his fingers into you faster and deeper, now instead starting to lick and suck at your pussy and your oversensitive clit. He lets you rub against his tongue and beg for more, giving into you so easily. And you moan louder as the feeling builds, being driven crazy. “Daddy.” You push softly at his head once you’re close, looking at him so blissed out between your legs. “I’m gonna-”

“Y’taste so fuckin’ good.” The short sentence is enough to have your head spinning, definitely when he dives back in again and fucks his fingers right into that spot.

“Ahng, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.” You know he has no intention to. Sucking over and rubbing his tongue along your clit until your vision goes white and your toes curl, back arching from the bed. “Holy — fuck, fuck, ah- daddy, daddy, thank you.” You cum so hard your head pounds, and only when you twitch from overstimulation does he pull away.

You sit up right away to pull him onto the bed and towards the headboard so you can ride him, but a flash of light catches your eye.

On the bedside table, your phone’s ringing. Only, it’s not ringing so much as it’s lighting up. And normally you wouldn’t care, but a thought worms it’s way out of you. “Is my phone on silent?” You didn’t do that. You wouldn’t have, considering you’ve been waiting for people to ring you back for ages. So… Shugo must’ve.

You reach for it, but his arms are longer and he snatches the device right from under you, something that makes your brows furrow. “Daddy, give it back, I wanna know who’s calling,” you pout, watching a bit absentmindedly as he turns the screen away and taps something.

“No one’s calling.”

Your brain whirls. “Yes, it was. Give it to me, I want to talk to my friend.” You would’ve let it ring, you’re still hot and bothered and Shugo’s very hard in his shorts, but you can’t make sense of it. “Shugo, give me—”

He holds it away when you reach for it again, and this time your brows furrow hard enough to look like a glare. But he doesn’t give in, frowning back at you. “It’s not gonna be your friends, ya know that, it’s a wrong caller.” You know that. Your head pounds harder, and another thought makes it’s way up, but you try to squash such an ugly thought. No way your boyfriend would have something to do with the radio silence.

He taps away as you try to make sense of it, you never once hesitated giving him your phone, you never had anything to hide. But the blocked numbers, the opened messages, all your calendar notes vanishing. You thought your phone was old, that the apps were freaking out. “There, ’s gone.”

“My friends—”

“Stop talkin’ about your stupid friends,” he snaps, wrapping his arm around you and pulling your vunerable, naked body into his lap as he tosses the phone aside in some laundry, “they’re no good. I’ll take care of ya.” And you try to pull back to look at him, really look at him, in hopes that this is some kind of joke. But he stares down at you like he’s making total sense, and you’re too confused and surprised to do much of anything. “They won’t bother us anymore, promise. I took care of ‘em.” With that he kisses you again, and you feel like the world crumbles around you.

He pulls you closer, rocks his hips into you and it’s almost automatic when you kick at his thigh to get out of his reach, falling back onto the bed. Part of you wants to ask, but a larger part of you just wants out of here. Far away from him for a while. Your stomach is so heavy, you don’t know what to make of any of this. Just that it isn’t right, the way he��s looking at you with such intensity isn’t all there. You start climbing off the bed, quickly fishing your clothes from the ground. But two strong arms wrap too tight around you, a hand coming over your mouth as he yanks you back into him. Grip painfully tight on your face.

“You can’t leave.” He pries the clothes from your grip, ripping them in half in the process. And you trash against him, tears welling up as you realize how terrifying this is. “You’re mine,” he coos it sickeningly sweet, grip loosening for only a second when you kick at his shin and claw at his arms. “Just—” It’s no use, he’s so, so much bigger than you. He drags you back and bends you over the bed, holding you by your neck and pressing his shin over your legs before he uses his entire body weight to keep you in place.

“You’re still mine, right?” The kisses he plants on the side of your neck are so cold now, they make you sick. He rubs himself on your hip, hard cock twitching. Like this is just some lover’s spat to him, like you aren’t crying your eyes out right now. He presses a kiss to your head. “Ya don’t have’ta be upset, it’s only ‘cause I love ya.”

[whumpingcrow]

Pt. 22 "It Takes A Village"

CW: whump aftermath, discussion of past abuse, past noncon, panic attack, starvation/whumpee not being allowed to eat, dehumanization, tourrettes/ticcing, death mention, slightly clueless caretaker, whumpee mistaking friendliness for intimacy, drugs/alcohol (let me know if I missed anything!)

Tyson looked annoyed with Elias by the end of the meal. He sighed heavily when he saw that Elias hadn't touched his food, glanced over at him disdainfully as he took his plate away and brought it to the kitchen. Elias could've crumbled at that. He knew he wasn't supposed to eat, especially not at the table with others. August had gotten so mad at him for thinking he was worthy of that, made sure that when he ate it was only when August forced him to, and when he was on the cold basement floor, so hungry he thought he would die. Elias couldn't remember when or why that began, just like with all of the other twisted rules, he just knew that it was better to just obey, to do whatever August wanted so that there wouldn't be any added, unnecessary pain for being bad. He learned quickly that submitting to the torture at the beginning was so much easier than fighting against it and suffering through the originally planned pain plus whatever August saw as a just punishment for his disobedience.

So the entire dinner he thought he was doing good, being so quiet and only speaking when he was asked to and not touching the food that he wasn't deserving of and sitting pretty. It's not that he didn't know he was with Tyson, it had just become so normal to him that he really couldn't imagine doing anything else, even though it caused him tremendous turmoil. And then, after all that effort, Tyson still looked at him like he was pathetic and upsetting.

Allen must've picked up on his anxiety, because he stood up from the table and tapped Elias's shoulder in the least invasive way he could. "I'm going to have a cigarette, would you like to join me?"

Elias took a shaking breath of relief, nodding his head. He followed Allen outside to the porch, watched as he sank down into a chair. He wished so badly he was allowed to kneel here, it would give him some sense of normalcy. Instead he opted for standing a good distance away from Allen, only stepping forward a bit to grab the cigarette offered to him. His teeth were chattering, he wasn't sure if he was shivering because of the cold or his anxiety, but it made him fumble with the lighter for a few seconds. When his frail, trembling fingers wouldn't light it, he let out a hopeless, defeated whine.

"Here, let me help, love," Allen offered, standing up and taking the lighter from him. Elias couldn't help but stare wide eyed at him as he lit up for him, both of their faces glowing an orange hue from the small flame.

"Uh...thank you," he whispered after a drag. Allen was still standing up with him, smoking his own cigarette and looking past him, at the window. Elias was trying to figure out if he was standing so close because he wanted something, or if he just happened to be less than a foot away. He wondered if he was imagining the fond look on his face when he took the lighter from him, if Allen called him "love" in a friendly way or if it was affection. It made his chest fluttery to think about, and he was confused at the tears in his eyes.

"You alright, Elias?" Allen asked softly. "You're shaking. What's up, pal?"

Elias looked up at him, ticcing as he tried to hold eye contact. "C...can I ask you again?" He whimpered.

Allen seemed to know immediately what he was referring to, and he nodded at him with a pleased, possibly proud, grin.

"What do you want?" This time it came out a little more sure, less broken, than the first time, and Allen's face softened into a smile, one that Elias had seen on people right before they praised him. His lips curled up in the same way other's usually did before they would say "Good boy," or "tres bien". Elias felt a small weight lift from his shoulders, he'd finally done something right!

"I'm happy just smoking and hanging out with you. That's what I want."

Elias felt his face flush, an incredibly grateful, almost elated, smile on his face. Someone was happy just to hang out with him. Happy. "Ok. Thank you."

Allen debated asking if Elias wanted anything, but he was sure it would be just as bad as the first time, tears and trembling and the works. So instead he reached out and playfully ruffled Elias's hair just a little. Elias flinched at the movement initially, but then he was quick to correct himself and instead pressed against the hand in his hair eagerly. He was smiling softly at the touch, eyes fluttering closed.

Allen couldn't help but wonder if this was how he had been when he finally escaped August, if he was so broken he just went weak at simple, friendly touches. Surely not, Leo was adamant right from the beginning with giving him all the physical attention he needed, and Allen didn't feel so desperate for gentle touch once he was back in Leo's arms. Then again, he wasn't in August's claws for 10 months. He felt a horrible, gnawing sympathy in his chest when he thought of the toll that would take, 10 months of punishment, of being toyed with physically and mentally, treated like nothing, less than nothing.

He took a half step forward, dropping his hand from Elias's head to the nape of his neck. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that," he muttered, "I know h-how awful August can be, I'm sorry."

Elias tensed up at the name, pulling the cigarette close to his body, as if he thought the tiny cherry glowing orange at the end would warm him up. "I don't...I don't understand how you can be so normal now. I feel utterly ruined." As he spoke, he couldn't help but lean toward Allen more, the hand on his shoulder keeping him steady. "I feel like I don't even remember who I was before."

Allen shook his head, then, with a bit of hesitation, he pulled Elias close against his chest to comfort him. "I know it seems really hard right now, but it will heal. I promise."

Elias found himself sinking into his arms, melting completely against Allen's body, closing his eyes tightly. He was overwhelmed by the kindness Allen was showing him, how gentle and pleasant he was being. He couldn't get close enough to him, couldn't bury himself deep into his touch enough to really be satisfied, he needed more and more and more, he needed pressure and warmth and suffocating, constant touch, and he was slightly ashamed at the desperate whine that he let out when he realized he might never get that, might never be satisfied.

"You're ok," Allen said in response, "I've got you, Eli. It's ok." He stroked his hair back gently, felt the way he was trembling underneath him. So fragile, breakable, and yet his fingers were tightly grabbing his shirt, aching to be closer.

"It's s-so hard...I c...can't..."

"Shh, Elias. Just breathe, no one's gonna let anything happen to you." He held him close, rocking him side to side, refusing to be the first person to let go. Elias needed this, he could feel it in the way he pushed into him, hear it in his broken, watery voice.

The door opened behind them, and Elias flinched away from Allen like he knew he wasn't supposed to be that close. He looked up at Tyson, his hands shaking and his face pale. "I...we were just-"

"It's ok, love. I was just checking on you." He looked them both over, could see the obvious exhaustion on Allen's face. Tyson often felt bad for sticking them in the same room together, was worried that seeing Elias so familiarly damaged would set Allen off again, would make him lose all the progress he'd been working so hard on. "We were gonna settle down inside. Wanna come?"

Elias instantly agreed, of course, reaching forward to grab Tyson's wrist, like he was afraid he would get lost if he wasn't holding onto someone. Allen followed close behind, collapsing on the couch next to Leo as he came in. His body felt heavy with pity for Elias, especially when his tiny voice asked Tyson if it was ok for him to use the restroom. If it was ok. He had to bite back a groan at how pathetic that was.

"You alright?" Leo asked him, hand on his knee. It was times like this that reminded him how lucky he was to be with Leo; the psychiatrist in him always picked up on when something was wrong, when things were taking a toll on Allen, so he never had to mention it on his own.

"I'm worried about him," he admitted, "I mean, you saw him, the poor kid is...broken." He shook his head sadly, and Leo let out a soft sigh. He didn't protest though, because Allen was right. Tyson began to chew on his lip nervously. "I'm more worried August might come back." This time when he spoke, he dropped his voice to a low mumble. Both Leo and Tyson tensed incredibly at the idea, but no one objected.

"You don't really think that...?" Tyson finally said, shaking his head. His voice was on the edge of begging, pleading for Allen to take the words back.

"I-I mean, how many times did I end up back with him? How many times did we think it was over and he just kept coming back?" His voice was nervous, but he was able to cover it for the most part with his genuine concern. "And he was ballsy enough to come back after killing him, then took him out of the fucking country for almost a year-"

Elias couldn't hold himself up on his own, he had collapsed against the wall with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. August was coming back? Elias would be so easy to find, in the same place as last time. Suddenly he couldn't swallow, his throat felt constricted and dry. He could only think, as their conversation continued with how likely August was to return, was, oh god he's going to kill me! I ran away, I've been gone for so long, he's going to be so angry! Until he couldn't hear anything else, not even Tyson's voice as he stood in front of him, asking him if he was ok. He finally got his voice back, just as a whisper though.

"D...don't let him ta-take me.." he wheezed, pushing himself closer against the wall. "Please Tyson, I c-can't go back! I can't!"

"I'm not going to let anyone touch you, my love," Tyson assured him, hands hesitating over his arms, unsure if he was alright to touch in his panicked state, "no one's coming to take you. I won't let that happen." He wasn't sure if Elias had even heard him, he was still rigid where he stood, his breathing frenetic and labored. His eyes were darting around the room in a panic, like he was looking for something that could hurt him. Or probably someone, rather.

Allen was murmuring apologies, he didn't know Elias was listening in the hall! But no one was really listening to him too much, too concerned with Elias. Rightfully so, because now he was fighting Tyson's hands away from him, trying to escape the comforting touch that only seemed threatening when they were accompanied by Tyson's rushed voice and pressured movements.

"Please!" He shrieked, covering his face with his shaking hands, horrified beyond belief. "I-I'll be good! I swear! Ple-ease don't ma-make me go back!"

"Eli, you are good!" Tyson tried to convince him. "You're gonna be ok, I'm not gonna let you go anywhere. You're safe."

Allen watched the panic ensue, his chest heavy with guilt. He knew how he could calm Elias down (they all secretly did, but none of them wanted to say the words that he so desperately needed to hear), and he wanted to help all he could, but he didn't know if getting in between him and Tyson would change anything. He'd done enough anyways. But it became harder to listen to when Elias sunk to the floor in a mess of tears and hard sobbing, screaming for Tyson to please forgive him. With a huff, Allen pushed himself off of the couch and walked up to the messy scene slowly.

"Can...can I help?" He asked Tyson, voice feather soft and nervous that he was overstepping. Tyson threw him an exhausted look, then nodded his head at him. Allen sat down on the ground next to Elias, sighing heavily before he started speaking. "Hey, Eli. Listen, sweetheart," the nickname tasted bitter in his mouth, but Elias did perk up a little, looking up at him with tears pooling in his eyes. "There. There you go, hi."

Tyson was watching them with interest and vague hope, Elias was slowly inching his way away from the wall. Tyson had held off using that nickname, Allen had once told him that it was somewhat of a trademark for August, that it bothered him to be called it after what he'd been through. It was tainted, would never mean the same thing as it once did, would never be just an innocent pet name, ever again. Not when it was usually accompanied by a crazed, hungry look in August's eyes and Allen's blood on his hands. Tyson wondered if it bothered Allen to use it on Elias.

"Listen here, ok? Be nice and quiet so you can listen." He didn't like the sternness in his voice or the language he was using to try and sound as much like August as he could stomach, but Elias was nodding along mindlessly to the words, his sobs came to a slow stop until he was only sniffling and hiccuping. "Good. You're doing so well here, Eli. Behaving incredibly. We're not gonna send you away or let anyone hurt you because you've been very good. You have to calm down and believe us."

Elias took a tiny, shaky breath, leaning toward Allen with his lip caught in his teeth. He looked fairly fear dazed, like he wasn't completely sure who was speaking to him, but he had calmed down significantly. "I...August..?"

"No, Eli," Allen murmured, almost scolding, "no, sweetheart. Just Tyson, Leo, and me. Ok? No August."

"No August." He repeated, almost like he was reassuring himself. Allen nodded, grabbing his shoulder gently and stroking him with his thumb. "N-no August."

"That's right." He said this with a smile, nodding along with him. "Very good. See? Nothing to worry about."

Elias then looked up at Tyson, his face twitching into a small frown again, his bottom lip trembling as he tried not to cry. "I'm sorry." He choked out, voice breaking painfully.

"No, baby, you've got nothing to be sorry for. Are you ok now?" As a response, Elias crawled forward and buried himself into Tyson's arms, hiding his face against his chest as he did. "It's ok, I've got you. I'm here, angel."

"O...ok." he sniffled a few more times, then pushed himself off of Tyson and sat upright, looking up pitifully at the others. Tyson huffed at him, at the soft and frightened roundness to his eyes, his nose and cheeks a soft pink from being breathless and worked up, his pale hair falling in messy waves across his face. Tyson couldn't help but reach out and touch him again, his fingertips brushing against Elias's cheek.

When he flinched away, Tyson almost retracted his hand, apology already on his lips like a bullet in a loaded gun, but Elias quickly corrected himself and pressed his face longingly into Tyson's warm palm, looking up at him still. The look in his eyes said "I'm sorry, you can touch me! See, please keep touching me." And Tyson was frozen at the obvious desperation, at how vulnerable the look on his face made him seem. But then he couldn't help the fondness that overtook him the longer he looked at his Elias, melting against his touch the same way hard candy melts against a tongue. So he pulled him closer, holding his face tenderly as he rested his cheek against Elias's head.

"I've got you," he whispered one final time, but this time it was to tell himself, to reassure himself that Elias was back with him, safe and sound in his arms, not trapped a world away in pain and in danger and all alone. No, he was here, in shambles and hurting and scared, but here nonetheless.

After what Allen had said about August returning, though, Tyson was afraid that Elias wouldn't be here for long.

[plumoh]

[KNB] intertwined, under a spell

Word count: 1150

Summary: Shougo feels inextricably drawn to Ryouta—clinging to a feeling that makes his head spin. / Gang AU

Note: AO3 link. Second person POV.

He always tries to make you pick yourself up, even when you tell him to fuck off. He's acting like he's blessing the soil he's walking on when he's only a guy playing at saviors, who is in need of saving himself. Nobody in their right mind would survive in this ugly world without losing a bit of themselves on the way.

“What's your reason to live today?” he asks you, smile too wide and too obviously bland that you can't even mock him for it.

“Punch you in the face, for one,” you answer truthfully, narrowing your eyes at him as he takes your hands and guides you away from that shitty alley he found you in.

Ryouta holds your hands like they're made of glass and that you're going to break if he doesn't take care of them. The punch you promised will do wonders to show him you aren't weak, in the same fashion your words can have cutting edges just as sharp as that knife he likes to carry around.

Like the psychic he is, he gives a good squeeze to your right hand. “I'm holding onto you that tightly because I feel like you're going to slip away like sand and ash.”

“How the fuck can I slip away if you're cutting off the blood flow in my hand.”

He tips his head backward and laughs, his voice clear and loud and full of energy that for the few seconds it lasts you believe he's genuinely happy.

***

He knocks the cigarette right out of your mouth and it falls flat on the ground. You growl at him.

“You wanna lose teeth that badly or what?”

“You said you wanted to cut down your consumption, so I'm helping you,” he has the nerve to reply like he's announcing the weather. “You won't go far if you can't even follow your own word.”

“Fuck off, Ryouta.”

Ryouta pats you on the shoulder, his hand lingering longer than necessary, and your heart burns.

***

It becomes routine, to take a stroll in the streets of the brightly illuminated city at night, hiding within the shadows of the crowd, and to simply exist for a while. You never know what your night is made of, if you’ll even see tomorrow’s sun, so you walk, head held high and gaze examining the small indents in the city’s old walls or the faces of the worried people who are rushing past you.

You don’t look forward to your assignment of the night, but you don’t know how else to spend your time. It’s always a game of push and pull with you—getting away from something you wish you’ve never encountered, to in the end feel drawn back in because accomplishing a menial task, however unpleasant and disgusting, is marginally better than wandering like a ghost in the streets. You have no escape.

Ryouta is waiting for you, as usual. His wolfish smile makes you roll your eyes, but it only makes him smile wider.

“It will be fun, tonight,” he says.

“Don’t get in my way,” you grunt as he slips into your hands a pocket knife, unbidden.

“That’s my line. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Shougo-kun.”

You glance down at the knife he gave you. It doesn’t bear anything remotely captivating, plain in its silver color and practical design for multi-purposes, and yet you recognize it as the one you lost some time ago. You grit your teeth and shake your head.

“And you say I’m the thief, you bastard,” you mutter. “You’re doing whatever the fuck you want.”

Ryouta shrugs a bit too deliberately, forced in his casualness, but you don’t call him out on it.

On the side of the knife’s handle, there is a sun inelegantly engraved, like it was done with the world’s worst toothpick.

***

When you put your lips on his, high on adrenaline and hungry for more thrills, you think it’s stupid. It’s a physical act that either of you can get somewhere else, with someone else, but you always gravitate towards Ryouta, like he’s holding you hostage in his fucking space filled with nothing but empty reassurances and fake enthusiasm.

It gnaws at you. There is an incredible ache inside your chest when he clutches the back of your neck or bites your lips, making you chase after a feeling of depravity you didn’t even know you enjoyed. Chasing after something you believe you shouldn’t have. Ryouta is quiet only in these moments of absolute madness.

“You hate my guts,” you scoff one day, fingers holding his waist in a painful grip.

“I guess you do, too, if this is what hating someone looks like,” Ryouta answers, eyes blazing with a fire that’s burning hotter than rage.

You don’t understand. Ryouta’s countless smiles are indistinguishable sometimes, blending together to form a smile that’s neither smug, neither resigned, and falls in-between content and sincere—and you can’t bring yourself to face the meaning behind it, so you swallow these lips to absorb whatever energy you can suck to abate your thundering heart.

***

You press your arm against his and try to stay on your feet but your body sways. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and keeps you close to him. You can smell his disgusting cologne and hear his light voice dripping with so much sweetness you want to puke.

“What am I going to do with you?” he lowly chuckles, keeping you upright while he pushes your head in the crook of his neck.

“I'm not asking you to stay,” you say tightly. The pounding in your head isn't only the aftereffect of the fight you just won.

“I know. What's your reason to live today?”

You're searching deep in your repertoire of insults to answer his question, like usual, but maybe you lost more blood than you thought because your tongue can't work out the words you'd usually blurt out. Instead, a complete different sentence tumbles out.

“I don't fucking know. You, maybe.”

Ryouta's silent for a moment, probably stunned stupid. Then his body shakes with a quiet laughter, unable to stop himself as he presses his cheek against your head. You can hear the smile on his lips; not the fake and predictable one, but the one that tells stories about his joy and spreads light around him.

“There you go. Was it that hard to admit?”

“Shut up.”

It's not like saying these thoughts out loud was necessary anyway. Ryouta is still here, isn't he?

“I know you won't slip between my fingers when I hold your hand, now,” he says.

You lift your head just slightly to look at his face. He looks right back at you with those soft eyes that disappeared long ago.

“That was never my intention, dumbass,” you retort with a snort.

Ryouta only happily hums in response. No words needed, right?

[unohanadaydreams]

uh uh umu hewwo mars may i ask,,,,, for a kugo scenario pwease..... 🥺 ummm idm nsfw or whatever piques ur interest but something nice and sweet would be lovely 🥰🥰 thank u queen ily,,, 💕 if u want more info then just lmk!!

Of course, Kizo!! <3 Happy early b-day and here’s your big ol’ cake of soft wedding head canons to melt you with!! I guess I’ll stop teasing about seducing him now that he’s a married man lmaoooo.

Features: Some 18+ content/smut, fem!reader

KUGO GINJO

Wedding Day:

He’s tense. He keeps alternating between lashing out at Xcution members and lapsing into bouts of silence, his back hunched and chin resting on steepled fingers. Honestly, it’s insufferable for everyone around him. The fear of this commitment ending badly, of you fleeing down the aisle, and the fear of hating domestic life—of hating the unfamiliarity of children and stability and homecooked meals--gnaw at him. Kugo finds himself wanting to call everything off, if only to assert some measure of control over the day and his feelings.

Yearning for reassurance, he’s insists on seeing you. Jackie and Riruka lay down a valiant effort, but his entire entourage of groomsmen throw the balance in Kugo’s favor. So he gets his way.

”Like always,” Riruka says. “Such a spoiled brat,” Jackie responds.

Kugo is aloof at first. Your steadfast verbal and then bodily insistence that he not be in the same room as you before the wedding, especially with your dress bag unzipped and visible from the open closet changes that. His shrug and crude excuse of ‘thought we could practice our wedding kiss’ only annoys you.

But then his smarmy little smirk drops and he gives a sigh that seems to soften his body. His shoulders fall and the ticking muscle of his jaw disappears as he falls forward into your arms, his face pressing into the column of your neck.

Kugo is rarely an open book. You know him better than anyone, but honestly that’s like saying you won a race when you were the only one running. You hug him back and he unwinds enough to say, “you really wanna marry me? Forever with me and all the jerks in Xcution?”

After your reassurances, he shutters his fears again, smiles genuinely, and kisses you deeply until you push him away. When he leaves, one hand slicking back his gelled hair and the other stuffed in his suit pocket, Jackie and Riruka barge into the room.

“Did he seriously do ALL THAT just to practice a fucking kiss,” Riruka shrieks. You open your mouth to say no. And then your eyes narrow. Because he did do that, after all. “I’m marrying a scumbag,” you say. Jackie snorts, “It took you the day of to realize?”

Compared to before, Kugo is a veritable delight to deal with after his visit with you. He drinks scotch and brags about his honey moon destination over games of darts. He’s still a sore winner and lousy sport. He still lapses into broody silence over his alcohol and cheats if someone gets the upper hand. But, for Kugo, it’s pretty much his best behavior.

The entire wait to see you walk down the aisle and for the duration of the vows, he’s back to tense muscles and dire thoughts. Seeing you glide toward him coaxes a genuine and soft smile. But he wipes it the moment he realizes what he’s doing; goes back to smirking. Kugo keeps tight hold of your hands the entire ceremony, though.

It’s only when you’ve said ‘I do’ and are swept in his arms for a unnecessarily long kiss that he relaxes again. He seems giddy at that point, honestly. It’s so uncharacteristic that it steals your breath as he gathers you in his arms and struts down the aisle with a smirk (okay, so not totally out of character).

The after party is absolute chaos, despite everyone trying to keep it classy affair. Held in a sturdy concrete and brick building downtown—a modern, high-end take on a saloon really—it starts calm. But, then the members of Xcution get in their egregious amount of shots in before most of the guests arrive. And..then the guests arrive. The Karakura gang and their families, your family, and some arrancar; because nothing says ‘fuck you’ like inviting the enemy of your enemy.

You don’t know the full scope of what occured, because Kugo insisted on leaving early to rest before the honeymoon flight in the morning, but you saw enough loud, blurry footage from snapchat and frantic texts from Orihime to know you’ll be sending apologies instead of thank you cards to your family. Some blue haired man destroyed two tables trying to get to Kurosaki.

Riruka shrunk some of your family members attempting to contain them. Jackie got her arm sliced when she stumbled into Uryu’s arrow that was headed toward Grimmjow before he got shrunk by Riruka and Yukio forced Uryu and Chad to be Mario and Luigi in his game sphere until Uryu apologized and they both said ‘it’s a me mario’ and ‘Luiiiiigiii’ respectively. Kugo turned off your phone and insisted it stay that way until your honey moon’s over in the middle of all the notification assaulting your sanity in hopes that you’d stop freaking out. It helped, honestly. You have your zen until you land back home. Cherish it.

Honey Moon:

He picked somewhere tropical. The idea of massaging sun screen into your skin? The image of you walking everywhere in booty shorts? The temptation of jumping you on a private beach in the evening or a quiet boardwalk in the morning? He simply had to. There was also a sizable discount on the destination he picked.

Sure, he’s always got an air of nonchalance that only a devil may care flavor of man can have, but on your honey moon, he’s tender…for him. The first day and night are completely spent in bed. And his fingers smooth over your ring constantly—while you’re making love, when you’re eating over priced room service fare in bed, and the still moments before he falls asleep. Kugo kisses your ring too.

When you get the idea to joke, ‘kiss the ring, bitch’, you knew he would pout, but you weren’t quite prepared for being laid out on the bed and tortured with the skilled fingers of his left hand. The solid wedding band rubbing against your spongey gspot stroking you to completion as he smirked, “no YOU kiss it.”

The remainder of the week is spent doing activities and eating meals that seem spontaneous but have been meticulously planned out. If there’s something you’re hesitant to do, he extra invested in easing your nerves since he’s already paid for it.

”I don’t WANT to swim with sharks!” “Come oooon. The only thing in the water that’s gonna bite you is me.”

Your closet at the hotel is stuffed with strappy dresses, cute swimsuits, and tacky shirts that proclaim you’re married you’ve never seen before. Kugo refuses to answer for the shirts and insists that his just never made it in his luggage and isn’t that a shame. He gets a huge amount of satisfaction of telling people you’re his wife. He could carry a neon sign pointing to you that says ‘THIS IS MY WIFE’ and it might be more subtle. He won’t stop even if you point it out.

“What? You’re my wife.” “Oh my—fine. It’s whatever.” “Hey! Hold the fucking elevator for me and my wife.” “I’M—”

Obviously, he’s out to show you off. You both make for a pretty fucking package and he’s well aware of that. If he wasn’t so concerned about how he came off to other people he’d be yelling “LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE”. But he has a sense of shame. And would never just SAY something so vulnerable, especially in front of strangers. But he’s thinking it.

His proclivity for making out in public is also tremendous. When he points out how many people have their eyes on you it’s with a self-satisfied air and a smirk made of fucking daggers. Most of your outings and meals end with Kugo getting you worked up and leading you somewhere to finish you off.

Kugo seldom says he loves you in those exact words. But he seems to sneak it in almost every day while vacationing. He tries to make it seem witty or off-handed. But the fact he says it at all makes the attempts to lessen the seriousness of it rather moot.

[cosmiceverafter]

𝔸𝕝𝕖𝕩 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕤 𝕎𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐤𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝)

A/N: Things are getting weird as I mash-up two worlds: Roswell meets Star Wars. A bit of canon divergence au going on here. This fic is dedicated to my good friend @saadiestuff​ (sorry it took me so long)! 

Summary: The galaxies collide during what seems to be an ordinary night in Roswell, New Mexico. Alex and Michael receive an unexpected visit from a different type of alien from a galaxy far, far away.

Rated: G

Read on ao3

***

When Galaxies Collide

It was an average Thursday night. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Michael and Alex were getting a bit cozy on their couch in front of the roaring fire, just the way Alex liked it. 

They were getting in the mood when they heard it. A loud boom and what seemed like a crash from behind the cabin.

Michael jumped up in protective mode, and put his hands out—Alex thought it was rather cute. 

They raced out the front door and slowly made their way behind the wooden house with their flashlight. 

There was smoke, that was spiraling around the late-night autumn fog. Being curious, yet cautious, Michael and Alex walked closer crunching the leaves beneath their feet.

Buried slightly below the ground, was a small pod. It was shaped in an oblong way and looked to be covered in a foreign metal, one Alex had never seen before. By the look Michael was giving it, it was unfamiliar to him as well. 

Suddenly the hatch on the side popped open with a hiss and slowly rose up. 

Michael put his hands up again, clearly ready for just about anything. What was in there, however, was not what Alex was expecting at all. 

Sitting inside the pod was what Alex assumed could only be a small green alien with long, long ears. Its eyes were big and its mouth seemed to hint a bit of a smile. Something about it seemed wise to Alex as if it were older than it appeared to be. 

“What the hell is it?” Michael asked getting a bit closer.

“I think, and it might just be a hunch here, but an alien,” Alex answered. 

Michael laughed, “You think? I mean, it looks how a typical alien should seem.”

“What if it’s your family?”

“Baby,” Michael replied with a smirk and shaking his head so his curls swayed, “do I look similar to that thing?”

“You’re both extremely cute. Similar long ears.”

“Ha, ha.” 

Alex winked and walked over to it. Michael grabbed his arm firmly, “We don’t know what it is, Alex. It could be dangerous.” 

The alien looked more like a baby, and honestly, it was the cutest thing Alex had ever seen. Well, not counting Buffy of course. 

“We can’t leave it out here though,” Alex replied, worrying about wild animals getting to the creature. In addition, winter was quickly approaching as snow began to fall all around them. Soon the temperature would drop. 

“Ok, I’ll try something.” Michael focused on it and squinted his eyes. The little alien floated up and slowly started moving towards the inside of the cabin. Alex quickly opened the door and looked as Michael started shaking slightly. 

He gently set it on a soft blanket on the couch. And fell in Alex’s arms. Alex wiped the sweat away and kissed Michael’s forehead gently. 

Alex helped Michael to the ground to rest and then walked over to their leather couch. He saw the little one tilting its head to look at them both. It looked curious, but not scared. 

Then it cooed. 

“It has to be a baby,” Alex said with a small smile. “I don’t think it’s going to hurt us.” He noticed it cowering slightly as he walked closer. “If anything, it’s trying to figure us out.”

“I’m trying to figure it out as well,” Michael replied, his eyes fluttering closed. “Why is it here? What does it do?” 

“And what if it has some answers about where you come from,” Alex added. 

Michael nodded, “That too. So many questions.”

“Should we try to feed it?”

“What does it like to eat?”

“Well,” Alex said slowly, “you’re an alien...what do you like to eat?”

They both laughed, marveling at what a weird situation this night had become. 

The little one didn’t move much. 

Then Buffy came walking in the room and the alien’s ears perked up as it made a little sigh. Michael and Alex stopped laughing and just observed. 

A ball slowly started to move across the floor from one side of the room all the way to Buffy. The beagle leaned down and put it in her mouth, then plopped to the ground with a grunt.

“Oh my God… it has powers, too.” 

“Like I said,” Alex replied, “you two might be related after all.” 

***

A while later, they attempted feeding it. But it didn’t look satisfied with anything they brought out. 

Alex did have to laugh as Michael brought out his favorite cereal in a bowl. Not looking impressed, the alien turned away. Michael shrugged and took a bite. When Alex gave him a look, Michael gave the ‘what...I’m hungry’ look.

Finally, Alex held up a steak on a plate, “What about this, little guy? I can cook it up for you.” 

At that, the alien’s ears wiggled and it cooed again. Alex felt the raw steak move out of his hands and watched in amazement as the meat floated towards the baby. 

The alien held open its mouth and gnawed on the steak. 

“Well then,” Michael laughed, “guess it likes it raw.” 

After it ate the entire steak, they watched as the little one slid down off the couch and walked over to Buffy who was eating her bone. It held its small hand up and Alex could make out three small fingers with long nails. Alex took one step forward unsure what it was going to do to his beloved dog. But that little green hand simply patted Buffy’s head. 

Buffy looked thrilled as she rolled over. The alien patted Buffy’s stomach and Alex could’ve sworn it smiled. There was a sweet connection between the two, and Alex wondered if it felt a familiar feeling around the dog. 

As Buffy was relaxed and closing her eyes, Alex and Michael sat on the couch. Alex noticed Michael looked tense. “What’s on your mind, love?” 

Michael sighed, “I just want some answers about this thing is all. I can’t help but wonder how many other life forms are out there.” He looked over at Alex, “I want to know where I come from, ya’ know? Just wanna know where I belong.” 

His boyfriend leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. Alex so badly wanted to say the right thing. He knew how desperately Michael wanted to know more about his beginnings and his family...how could he not? But he still was going to attempt to reassure him, the only way he knew how. With love. “Listen, I wish I could give you all the answers you’re looking for, Guerin. However, I want you to know something.” 

“What’s that?”

Alex took Michael’s hand and placed it on his own heart, “You belong right here. This is your home, forever and always.” 

Michael’s face broke out into a smile, “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“Hmm, I think you did this morning when you were making sweet, sweet love to me.” 

“Oh, that’s right,” Michael grinned even further at the memory. “What a way to start to the day.” But then his expression changed to a more serious one. “I love you, Alex Manes. Thank you for being my constant here on earth.”

They leaned closer together as their lips touched softly. This was heaven; all that Alex would ever truly need. 

Just then, he felt a warm sensation of peace and love tingling all over his body. He opened his eyes and looked down. The alien was touching his leg and Michael’s as it looked up at them both. 

“Whoa....do you feel that?”

Alex nodded. Whatever this thing was, it was powerful. 

“I guess we should take that as a sense of approval?” Michael said leaning forward. He outstretched his hands and the creature jumped into arms. Michael gasped in surprise as if he didn’t really expect it to trust him. 

Now that it was up close to them, Alex took the alien in. It’s bright big black eyes were full of wonder, and as you looked into them, you knew that it was much older like he originally had thought. 

Alex held out his hand, and it grabbed his finger softly. Its green skin was as smooth as velvet. The alien held out its other hand and grabbed Michael’s finger. 

Just then Alex saw a flash of bright white light. He closed his eyes quickly and saw stars swirling around the galaxy. Alex felt like he was flying through space. The colors and the speckles of lights surrounding him were dazzling. And then it was over as quick as lightning. 

Letting go of the child’s finger, Alex gasped and looked at Michael, “What was that, Michael?”

Panting, Michael shook his head, “I dunno… but it felt….”

“Cosmic,” they both said in unison. 

Maybe the two of them truly were meant to be together; it was clearly written in the stars—the alien had shown them that.

***

Through the cabin, the warm early morning light was starting to shine through the windows. Alex yawned and looked down. The alien was curled up in his arms and a blanket was embracing them both. Buffy was lying right next to his feet in a ball breathing in-and-out slowly. He felt so at peace.

None of them had been able to sleep during the late-night hours, so instead, they had watched E.T., which had been Michael’s idea. He loved movies with aliens. Their little alien had been so entranced, that it had sat close to the TV, touching the screen. It had been simply adorable. 

Halfway through the movie, they must’ve fallen asleep. Alex now watched as the alien’s long ear twitched and he felt its steady strong heart. At that moment, he was filled with a different type of love. 

He looked over to where Michael had been, but he wasn’t there.

“Mornin’ darlin’.” Michael was leaning in the door frame holding two cups of coffee. His feet were bare and his curly fry curls were tousled in disarray. Alex had never seen him look more beautiful. He walked over quietly and whispered, “I didn’t wanna wake y’all. You looked so peaceful.” 

Michael leaned down and kissed Alex’s forehead. Alex tilted his head back and puckered his lips out making a face. Smiling, Michael leaned in once more to kiss him. 

Comfy mornings with the ones you loved, that’s how Alex liked starting his day. He looked down at the little one nestled in his arms and realized he could get used to this. He had wanted to start a family with Michael, and what better way than to start now? “We could keep him, you know? He could be a part of our family.” 

“Really?” Michael replied with a soft smile. “I mean...we know nothing about it and that’s a big responsibility thinking into the future.” 

“I’m ready to take on this challenge, as long as I do it with you.” 

Michael’s bottom lip trembled slightly and he nodded, “Me too, babe. Together we can do this.” 

“I think it chose us for a reason. We can keep it safe.” 

Michael nodded, “I think you’re right about that one.”

But fate had different plans because, at that exact moment, the front door slammed open. 

Alex jumped up and held tightly to the alien. Buffy growled and barked at the intruder covered in metal armor and a mask with what looked like a ‘T’ on the face. The person had a long black cape and was clearly armed. 

Michael was already in position with an outstretched hand, “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in our house?” 

There was no answer. The cold air mixed with the freshly fallen morning snow was starting to blow into the house. The hair on Alex’s neck began to stand on edge—this wasn’t good. 

The intruder looked around, boots slamming down on the wood floor when finally they stopped and tilted their head, “The child.” 

His voice was morphed, yet powerful. 

Alarmed, Michael’s eyes widened, “What? What child?”

Alex’s arms went tighter around the alien. Whoever this person was, it wanted the bundle in his arms. Alex suddenly felt very protective. 

The intruder pointed towards the alien, “The child. Give me the child and no one will get hurt.” 

“How do we know you won’t hurt it?” Alex replied with a glare. 

“I was sworn to protect it.” 

“Great job,” Michael scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

“Michael…” Alex warned, shaking his head. Now was definitely not the time for that. 

“We were trying to escape from our enemies off of our ship, I was trying to keep him safe but the pod malfunctioned and left without the proper coordinates. I have never been to this planet, but luckily I was able to track him. It was a mistake for him landing here.” Alex frowned—it had not been a mistake. “I need to take him home. That was always the plan. He has a family. His kind. It’s my mission to see it done.” 

“Who are you?” Michael asked again. It came out more of a demand. Alex was impressed. 

Alex could hear the man take a deep breath in, “I’m the Mandalorian.” 

“The Mandalorian? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“Never mind that, we need to leave before our enemies infiltrate onto your planet,” the Mandalorian replied, walking up closer to Alex. Michael immediately moved in front of him and the child. Alex loved him for it. 

Just then, the alien wiggled and jumped out of Alex’s arms. It ran over to the man and put a green hand on his boot. Slowly, the intruder picked the little one up. Immediately, it nestled in the man’s arm. 

Whatever the relationship was between the two, there was clearly a connection and a bond. Alex now knew the man was telling the truth. He could feel it, even though it made him sad to say goodbye.

The Mandalorian held out a small metal ball and the child cooed and its ears wiggled as it grabbed onto it. 

As the man turned to walk away, the child made a whining noise. The Mandalorian shook its head but finally groaned and put the alien down. It ran quickly to Michael and held its arms up. 

Puzzled, Michael bent down to pick it up. “What’s up, little dude?” 

The alien put his small hand and touched Michael’s temple. Michael gasped and closed his eyes. 

It was showing Michael a vision...but of what? 

After a few moments, the child removed his hand and touched Michael’s cheek. 

Michael cleared his throat, “Thank you...thank you for that.” 

The alien did a small nod and Michael gently placed it back down to the floor. It walked over to Buffy and patted her head. Buffy’s tail slid across the floorboards in response. The child looked at Alex and smiled making a little noise of approval. 

Returning back to the Mandalorian, the man scooped him up once more and headed towards the door. But he paused and looked back. Muffled through the mask he wore he said, “Thank you for keeping him safe. You’re good people.” 

“Of course,” Alex replied. “Different doesn’t scare us,” 

“Maybe he was meant to meet you after all then.” The alien’s ears wiggled happily. “May we meet again someday,” the Mandalorian said with a nod. Then they went into the morning sun. 

Alex rushed towards the cabin door and saw in the distance a small ship. The child’s pod reattached to the side of the ship. It rumbled and hissed, and then hovered in the sky. Then away it went as if a distant memory, but not to be forgotten. 

He hoped like hell that the military hadn’t witnessed that, or they were in for it. 

“Wow...that was something, wasn’t it? Feels kind of like a weird lucid dream.”

When Michael didn’t reply, Alex turned around. His boyfriend was standing next to the window, frozen in his shocked expression. 

Alex walked over and touched Michael’s arm gently, “What did he show you?” 

Michael came to the present moment and looked at Alex, his beautiful hazel eyes filled with tears, “My home.” 

As his heart started beating out of his chest, Alex held on to Michael’s hand, “I can’t wait to hear all about it.” 

Michael smiled and pulled Alex into his arms. “I’m now even more certain though, that this… you, are my home, Alex.”

Alex held onto his cosmic soulmate tightly as he realized that the galaxy had all but collided and yet their love had only seemed to grow with the confirmation that they were clearly meant to find one another. 

Their love story would simply continue to live on within the stars.

[septic-skele]

US - Heed The Signs (Part 7)

[Part 6]

“Papyrus? Can you hear me?”

“Are you listening?”

“We’re safe; we got help. You can really get better here, so…that means you can come out now. It’s time for you to wake up, okay?”

That was the last thing Papyrus wanted to hear. After what felt like centuries of white and hot and too much, the darkness that had enveloped him was so merciful, a true comfort. He didn’t want to be lured out of it now, no matter how sweet and hopeful that voice may sound.

His skull was heavy, a dull beat plodding behind his dark eye sockets, and his sensitive bones stung under the soft, meticulous touches mapping him. The touch was distant yet familiar; he couldn’t quite latch onto its source. Perhaps the hand and the whispers belonged to the same person?

“Please, I need you to wake up.”

I don’t want to, he wanted to throw back. He tried, in fact, but all he could muster was a slurred grumble. The waking world sounded like such a chore; he would be just as exhausted there as he was here in the black. Why did it matter? Just leave me alone.

His attempt to speak seemed to have the opposite effect; rather than pull away, the next touch was more forceful, gripping expectantly, eagerly, and the voice was so much closer.

“Papy?”

Well, there was only one person who called him that—and try as he might, he could never say no to him for long. Though his will and body continued to resist, his awareness stirred. His sockets felt sore and dry as pale eyelights sputtered on, peering blearily through the fog.

“Brother!” The stars that ignited in Blue’s eyes were dazzling as he dragged Papyrus upright into a near-strangling hug. “Bless you, you’re awake! I—I knew you could find your way back to us! I knew you could all along!”

Biting back a groan, Papyrus made an attempt to squirm and only managed a twitchy shudder. He hadn’t expected to sit up so fast; spots blinked across his field of vision. Jaw clenching where it was ineptly smushed against Blue’s shoulder, he heaved a sluggish, nauseated breath. His magic churned. He didn’t want to throw up on him again!

“S-Spinning…”

“This is wonderful! You’re sure to get better soon now! We’ll find out exactly what did this to you and there’s certain to be a cure. She’ll figure it out, she’s an adult so obviously she’s very wise and smart and she’s going to help and make everything alright again!”

“Sa-a-ans! Too loud, too much,” he whined, fingers awkwardly grabbing at the outline of Blue’s ribs to push him away. “M’tired…”

“And as soon as you’re back on your feet, we’ll—Oh. Oh.” Though he had wasted no time or effort pulling away from his resting place, Blue shifted with much more care when laying him back down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

If he was honest, Papyrus could have dropped back to sleep as soon as his skull found the pillows again, if it weren’t for the twinge of discomfort he felt when he noticed Blue’s smile wiped away. Sniffing, he curled deeper into the hammock and averted his eyes. By instinct he lifted his hands to his mouth, muffling a crackly cough before gnawing tiredly on the edges of his phalanges.

Blue seemed startled by the reappearance of the old self-soothing habit, opening his mouth to scold him and then thinking better of it. Instead he cleared his throat. “Papy, do you, um, remember what happened before? When we got here?”

“Uh-uh. When I try to think, s’all…” Squinting uncertainly, he muttered around a knucklebone. “…hot and fuzzy.”

Perhaps he didn’t want to remember. The nightmare of inky blackness he had was the last clear image in his mind, a dozen times sharper than anything that came before or after, and that was already disturbing enough. Still, it wasn’t comfortable having an empty gap in his time either. What had he missed?

“Nngh…m’head hurts.”

Taking up one of the sponges, Blue dunked it back in the bucket. Papyrus jerked on first contact but otherwise didn’t resist as his brother drizzled tepid water over the crown of his head. It was a relief against the heat that permeated him and made the hammock tacky against his spine.

Despite their close proximity Blue didn’t look at him directly, his gaze following the sponge’s course as if it was incredibly interesting. “I made it worse for you,” he murmured, any trace of his former joy fading. “I had no idea that cold baths were unhealthy for sick people! I put you in the river even when you said it was hurting you. Like needles, you said. Why didn’t I listen? Then I just let you keep walking.”

“Said I wanted to…”

“I should’ve said no! I didn’t know! I thought cos you said that, you were feeling stronger but I was…very wrong. When we got here, Papy, you fell.” The sponge juddered in his hand. “You fell on the ground and started shaking so badly and I couldn’t make it stop!”

“S-Shakin’?” Perhaps that was why he felt strangely bruised. Even as Blue explained it, however, no memory formed to follow.

“You were jerking your arms and legs everywhere, like you couldn’t control them anymore, and I couldn’t hold onto you. Apparently it was the fever trying to…escape your body? It was meant to help somehow and it probably won’t happen again. Stars, I hope not.

“I checked you a little while ago. The fit didn’t do anything to your HP but from the outside it looked horrible! I thought something awful was going to happen to you. I was so scared! And…And it’s all my fault for not keeping you in Waterfall to rest. And if resting didn’t help, we could have found someone there to help us, a doctor, someone. Instead it only went from bad to worse.”

Papyrus’ fingers stung as he bit down harder, guilt and misery flushing through him in a deep burn. “Sans.” His voice was small. “M’sorry…Please don’t be sad, okay? S’my fault. I was bad. I told you a lie.”

“You…What?”

“I didn’t wanna walk but I still said I did. I made you believe me. That’s why it got bad; s’my punishment for lying.”

“What?” he stammered again. “But why would you do that? You know lying is wrong!”

“I kno-o-ow! I just…” Don’t cry. “…didn’t wanna be too slow. You wanted t’get here really fast and I didn’t want you t’get mad that we stopped so long and…and maybe…”

“Leave you behind?” Papyrus shrank as Blue’s shoulders slumped in bewildered hurt. “But I already told you I wouldn’t, brother! I promised! Don’t you believe me?”

A whimper trickled from his throat before he could catch it, followed by a slew of hitched coughs. Blue winced as he bent over him to pat his back, shushing and soothing with meaningless syllables that made Papyrus’ head buzz.

“I’m messed up,” he croaked, barely intelligible behind his palms. “S-Something’s wrong with me…Why can’t I be strong like you are? If I was strong, I wouldn’t be scared so much! Why am I like this?!”

“I’m not sure,” Blue admitted haltingly. He wasn’t fond of making admissions like that in front of Papyrus; he shook his head against it, eye sockets narrowing. “But I don’t care either. Even though you’re fragile, there are still plenty of dazzling, magnificent things about you!”

“Uh-uh.”

“There is too! You’re my brother, after all, and that means you inherited some of my greatness! You’re good and kind and funny—when you’re not telling those knock-knock jokes—and you have the biggest soul in the whole Underground! You can sing, you’re good at hide-and-seek, you always find the most interesting river rocks, you learn numbers and sums in a snap…”

As he rambled on, Papyrus swallowed against a scratchy weight in his throat, peeking up through his fingers. Did he really mean those things or was he only making it up to be nice? That would be Blue all around; he was nice no matter what, even to his bad, weak brother.

“Someday I’ll come up with a list of a hundred things that are good about you!” Blue concluded determinedly. “And if there is something wrong with you, you can get better if you really try! I can help you—but only if you don’t lie to me. We can’t make it work if we don’t trust each other. You understand?”

“Yeah…M’sorry.”

“I forgive you. And I’ll make you my promise again. With both of us remembering it, it will be stronger this time.” Squeezing Papyrus’ shoulder, he enunciated clearly. “I, the great and magnificent Sans, solemnly swear that I will never, ever leave you. No matter what tries to get in our way—sicknesses, rivers, snowstorms, or heck, even one of those nasty humans in the old stories.”

Papyrus’ soul swelled with a low, achy warmth that he couldn’t properly put into words yet. “You’re so cool,” he whispered.

“Mweheh, I know. And if I’m going to teach you how to be half as cool as I am, we have to stick together.”

For the first time in days, Papyrus managed a weak but true smile as he reached out, strumming the strings of the intricate web forming the hammock. “Heh…Stick together. It's sticky…”

“Wha—?! Ugh, Papyrus, no! That’s even worse than a knock-knock joke!”

“Hehe…” The darkness was returning to creep up his back, still hot-and-cold yet softer than it had before. He had a brief moment to pluck the web one more time, making sure that his limbs were still under his control. No more shaking. “Don’t…get scared, m’kay? But I think m’gonna sleep some more…”

He drifted to the sound of Sans’ soft sigh. “Okay. Thank you for the warning this time.”

[shannygoatgruff]

My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter IV

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Characters: Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA 18+

Overall Warning:  Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.  

Chapter Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence, homosexuality, rape and anal sex.  Heavy trigger warning.

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other.  Boys will be boys…

(source: unknown)

A/N: Okay, so we’re about to start going down the rabbit hole of crazy.  I ask that you bear with me.  As these two continue to “party” it will become more graphic but I try to do it as tastefully as possible.  I promise you there is a method to my madness.  Don’t give up on me, just yet...

Chapter IV

The media lies so much.  They always say these horrible, hurtful things about us, like we are some perverted sex deviants that go around terrorizing the city. They don’t know us.  They don’t know anything about us.  I just think they’re mad that these dumb ass cops can’t do their fucking jobs and protect these citizens from the real bad guys, so they look for somebody to make out to be the villains.  Guess who gets stuck that those personas?  Me, and Ivar.

If you turn on any news station right now, they would be trying to convince you that I’m some sort of monstrous sexual predator and that Ivar is a sadistic animal. It's not like I'm the type to hide in a dark alley and use chloroform or some shit to knock somebody out, like some of the sick fucks I've read about. I don't prey on people or force them to do anything they don't want to do. They always give me permission for whatever I'm up for when they agree to leave with us. 

Just like Ivar isn't anything like how they try to make him out to be.  He doesn't snatch people off the street or drive around with a trunk full of medieval torture devices or any of that bullshit. We're nothing like those sickos you hear about that have 15 bodies buried in their backyards or watch on those Netflix documentaries.  Those people are fucking crazy.  We’re not.

We’re just two regular guys, who happen to have a hobby. It’s like stamp collecting almost.  Nobody would say shit if we did all kinds of extensive research to find that one piece to add to our collection.  They’d think it was fucking awesome that we were so dedicated to rare and beautiful stamps.  Well, this isn’t much different; instead of fucking stamps, it’s people.  We don't select just anybody. A lot goes into picking the perfect person that's lucky enough to be invited to one of our parties.  

We gotta do a lot of waiting and watching.  And it’s not like we have a type, either. It doesn't matter what our company looks like or what color eyes or hair they have. We’ve never given a shit about race, or body type.  We don't have a sick fascination with strawberry blondes with green eyes or hate women in general. With us, it's all about the attitude, like a vibe. I can't really describe what it is we look for. We've been doing this long enough that I can spot what we need when I see it.  Sometimes it takes all night.  Some nights we go home empty-handed.  

And some nights, like tonight, it’s right in front of me.

They've turned the lights out on the dance floor so only the blue and red strobe lights show the crowd. It doesn't matter; from the lights of the bar, I can still see everything. And I don't care that the music is so loud that I can't hear myself think. I've already spotted the one and I don't even notice the music anymore.

My eyes haven't strayed from the body dancing on the speaker stack. Dirty blonde hair, slight frame, and a toned body swaying to the music…this one is beautiful. Their energy is almost palpable.  

For over an hour everyone who approaches has been turned down. I know, I've been watching. We're going to have to do this one right. One wrong move and we may be sitting at this club all night waiting for someone else suitable to come along. That won't do. I have my heart set on this and anything else will not quench this thirst.

Ivar and I haven't spoken about the blonde, we don't have to. I can see through the thin layer of smoke from the fog machine that his eyes are fixed on the dancing body, too. He's thinking what I'm thinking; we're usually on the same page about these things. My hand reaching over to pick up my vape is what pulls Ivar's gaze from the dance floor to my face. He looks at me with intense eyes and I simply nod my head.

I usually scope them out, but he's the one that always approaches. Ivar has a knack for talking to people. It’s part of his charm.  He can make the most uptight person feel at ease with just a smile. Me?  I’m pretty shy.  When I get nervous I either seem to ask a lot of questions, or I don’t talk at all. I guess some people consider that a turn off. It doesn’t upset me, though.  

If it takes Ivar being the Cult of Personality to get what we need, that's fine. We still get them, so I don't have anything to complain about.  Especially, not with this one – we can’t afford any mistakes. 

I watch in giddy anticipation as Ivar makes his way to the dance floor to make contact.

The wetness from the sweating tumbler in my hand seems to send a calming chill through my entire body. The gnawing in my stomach makes me feel like my whole body is about to ignite. It's only been four days since we were out last, but I swear it feels like an eternity. I think it's so bad tonight because I don't fully remember the last time. I don't have all of the memories that I need to keep me settled and stop the itching in my blood. 

I feel like a vampire right now; like I need to feed. God, I hope Ivar doesn't fuck this one up.

I feel myself biting on the metal tip of my vape to keep my anticipation at bay. I let my eyes fix on the small body next to Ivar's as they make their way back to our table. Ivar takes a seat and so does the blonde. I won't say anything, not yet. I'll get to talk after when we go back to the warehouse. When Ivar leaves to get his head together, that's when I'll have all the conversation I need.

"You want a drink?" Ivar leans over toward the blonde with an arm casually resting on the back of our new friend’s chair. The smile on his face is electrifying. He's so damn beautiful and he knows it. I swear, if I looked like him and had half of his confidence, I’d be a dangerous man. 

Shaking his head, the blonde smiles back. "I don't remember seeing you here before." He's such a pretty young man, somewhere between me and Ivar’s ages.  His face is soft, almost like a girl's and his messy hair cut reminds me of how I wore my hair a few years ago. His dark blonde waves are sticking to his scalp and face, in some places with sweat and curling haphazardly around his head in others.  I have to stop myself from reaching out and touching a strand of it because I don't want to scare him off. Especially not since I owe Ivar for last night and I want him so badly for myself.

This vape isn’t cutting it.  I’m so excited that I need a real cigarette to calm myself down. I easily slide my hand onto the table to pick up my pack, trying my best not to break the trance that Ivar has this beautiful boy in.  Their connection is so strong, I don’t even think he realizes I’m still sitting here.  

When I feel in the pocket of my jeans for a lighter, I don’t feel it. I don’t know why I look around the club like it’s going to magically appear. But I do, I continue to look around as I feel my hands start to rub my chest as if I have pockets in my shirt that my lighter might be in. 

Then I notice the blonde’s slow dramatic blink as he reaches across the table and hands me his lighter. 

It’s as if he’s in tune with my every want and need.  He’s toying with me.  Oh, he’s definitely the one and Ivar sees it, too.  We don’t even have to ask, this kid fucking wants it.  This fucking guy is sitting here practically begging for it and we’re going to give it to him.

"I've never been here before." Ivar smiles coyly redirecting the blonde's attention away from my shy smile and the blush creeping up my neck. He's getting excited. I always know when Ivar is about to make his move because he drums his fingers in haphazard rhythms.

I’m too stunned to move.  Fuck this cigarette. I want to watch my brother work his magic.

The blonde smiles, like this is a game to him. He has no idea how he's about to be played. He thinks he's flirting with Ivar; driving him crazy. Little does he know, you don’t flirt with Ivar.  Ivar is the one that’s always in control.  "No? Never? This is your first time?"

Batting his long lashes over his hungry eyes, Ivar nods slowly.  He leans into the blonde to touch an errant curl on his head, "I'm a virgin."  He bites his lip and the blush on the blonde's cheeks is all Ivar needs. He's permitting us to take him. "You wanna get outta here?" Ivar cuts to the chase with this one. He usually plays around with them more. 

With us, it's not about taking anyone. We always invite our guests. If they decline the invitation, we wait until we find another one. But if they accept, then they're accepting of everything we want. 

And this poor boy just nodded.

Without saying anything, I pick up my vape and cigarettes from the table. It wasn't conveyed, but it's a given that I'm going with them. He understood that when he handed me his lighter. He wants both of us and we both want him. 

I make sure to walk behind them as we make our way through the club, so I can watch the way the blonde's hips sway. This is going to be so much fun. Not even the ringing in my ears from leaving the noisy club to the now quiet street is enough to make me concentrate on anything else but showing our new friend the best time. 

It's only a few feet to the car before the party begins. I'm so excited that I have to stuff my hands in my pockets because if I could grab him now and do what I wanted, I would. Ivar notices the way I'm trying to get control of myself and after he lets the blonde into the front seat, he pulls me aside and strokes my hair. "It's okay, baby. He's ours."  He places a gentle kiss on my forehead before opening the rear door for me to get in.

Nodding my head, I let out a deep breath. I love the anticipation...this feeling of euphoria. It's like knowing the hunger is growing in just a matter of hours I'm going to get to feast until it's sated. "I know." I try to keep myself from smiling, but I can't. I'm giddy with the prospect of the things I can do to him. I want it so badly my dick is already hard.

I watch from the back seat as Ivar closes his door behind him and without any thought, to it, my hand starts to pull at my zipper. Ivar's hand reaches out to stroke the shiny hair on the blonde's head and I let out the laugh I've been holding in. By the time Ivar slams the boy's head into the dashboard, I'm already stroking my cock. The blonde doesn't say anything else, he's knocked out I think, but I can see Ivar wiping the blood on the boy's shirt before he reaches over to buckle him in. We can't take any chances of him getting hurt in an accident or the police stopping us for a seat-belt violation. We're also so careful and we take good care of our company.

"Lock your door, Serk." Ivar's voice is calm and soothing and momentarily pulls me out of the feeling of my hand stroking myself. He turns around to look at me and shakes his head with a bemused smile. "Let's go have some fun."

The sound of dripping water is what I have to concentrate on so I don't have to listen to him scream. I love to watch Ivar work. He's so good at it and enjoys himself so much. There is nothing more beautiful to me than to see him smile, but I hate it when they scream. And because he won’t shut the fuck up, I have to miss out on all the things Ivar is doing to him and that electrifying smile that’s probably on his face right now.

These fucking people always want to come, they always want to party, but when they get here they want to fucking ruin it by screaming. It doesn't work that way. They need to make up their fucking minds. They either want to party or they don't. There is no in-between. They don't get to decide in the middle of it that they're not into it anymore. What the fuck do they think this is?

I had to get out of that room. His fucking screaming was driving me crazy. Tying him up had been the easy part because he at least then he was unconscious. I didn't even mind waiting for him to come to; at least he was quiet. Even though I do wish he had woken up sooner.  While Ivar was gone we could've had a conversation or maybe had a smoke together. But the kid just wanted to sleep. He was so fucking boring.

I just sat next to the table that he was tied up to watching his chest rise and fall and the blood slowly dripping from nose.  I played with his hair, too.  It’s beautiful – so thick and wavy, and it smells amazing.  I wish my hair felt like his.  I have to remember to take some of it. I think on the days that hunger starts to get to me, if I can rub his hair and sniff it, I might be able to hold it off a bit longer.

My eyes travel from the puddle on the floor up to the leaky pipe on the wall.  I wonder how long the water has been dripping. 

Apparently, it’s been long enough tp slowly start eating the concrete away. Why don’t people take care of their buildings?  They spend so much money to construct them and then companies pay so much money to rent them.  You’d think someone would take care of these places, but instead, they just leave them to go to shit.  The city needs to do something about this. I guess this place one time housed tires because it still smells like rubber and there are still some carotid hubcaps piled in the corner. 

I wonder why it closed. The building itself is still structurally sound, besides the fact that there are no lights and there's a bunch of rusty metal in here, it's not that bad.  A perfectly good building being left to ruin, where any sick perverted fuck could do God knows what to someone in.  The world is a sick fucking place.

"Hvitserk?" I don't want to go back to that room. That fucking guy is still screaming. I mean after a while I would think he'd learn that Ivar doesn't care that he's hurting him. I mean, aren’t your senses supposed to shut off or dull after a while or something? Isn't that what makes some people pass out from pain? The cheese grater can't hurt that bad if he's still conscious and alert enough to scream about it.

I don't like really blood and I know he's leaking a shit ton of it right now. Of course, this would be the time that Ivar decides that I get him, once he's already extra bloody. Blood is really, really red and it’s hard to wash out.  Plus, I swear, I always smell it on my hands for days no matter how many showers I take. "Can you shut him up?" I step into the room and no matter how much he's bleeding and looks warn out, my dick is still rock hard.

Ivar nods and in one quick motion, he punctures the boy's jugular with the corkscrew he pulls from his bag. He doesn't push into his neck deep enough to kill him right away, but it's deep enough to start the blood flowing. The gurgling doesn't bother me, it's the fucking wheezing I can't deal with. I think Ivar sees the irritation on my face because he frowns. "He's ready for you, brother."

I notice how the pumping blood from his neck collects with his blood that had already pooled on the floor. There’s so much red.  Still, my approach to him is swift because I want him to still be warm and to see my face and notice me before he dies. 

I think I like them best that way. I love it when they're still alive because they really get into it. The way they kick their legs, scratch, and bite…I know they're enjoying it as much as I am – but not when they still make noise. 

This way, the way Ivar just did it, they're quiet and their eyes look right at me. They can actively participate and give me the silence that I need to concentrate on. Plus, I'm the last thing they see before they die and once they're dead, I can do whatever I want.  It’s so beautiful.  So intimate. 

This silent friend is the gift my little brother gave to me.  He loves me so much. He’s always looking out for me. I am going to make him so proud.

And this one...this guy is exceptionally beautiful. The look of sheer terror on his face gets me so hard that all I can do is push into him without noticing his blood smearing on my thighs. His eyes are growing gray and cloudy but he still knows what I'm doing and that I’m the one doing it to him. "Please?" I hear his faint whisper and it makes something in me grow warm. I fist his hair and slam his head back on the table. I keep doing it until he shuts up.

Ivar's laughing in the background. This is the part he loves the most. He loves to watch me fuck them. I can hear him grunting behind me and when I turn to look at him, he's pumping his cock in his hand. Watching him get himself off, and the feeling of this twink around me...this is bliss.  I will never understand why Ivar doesn't want to try this. "Fuck him hard," his voice is a harsh growl as his hand pumps harder.  His voice feels like fingertips grabbing my shoulders forcing me deeper and deeper.  

The blonde's eyes are completely lifeless now. They're staring straight at me and for some reason, I can't stop laughing. He's so fucking tight. I know I have to finish soon before his muscles stop contracting. If he shits on my dick I swear I will cut his ass up into little pieces.

There it is. The moment I've been waiting for. That final gasp of air - his realization that he's dead... that's the money shot. I don't think I can stop cumming. I hear a growl that sounds almost desperate and I can only assume it's from me. I toss the table over with the blonde still attached to it. I don't need to look at him anymore. I got what I needed. My blood is finally settled.

Ivar's hand on my shoulder is what makes me realize I'm panting and I have to wipe the spittle off my chin. “You have fun?”  He asks, as he moves my sweat-soaked hair off my face and tucks the strands behind my ear.  

I can’t talk yet. I have still need to catch my breath.  All I can do is rest my forehead against his and feel his love for me as I try to transfer my love for him back that way.  Ivar holds my face in his hands and kisses my nose, before he pulls away and looks around the room.

As I fasten my pants think about how it’s time to clean up, only I don't feel like doing it now. I want to go home and crawl into bed. I'm exhausted. It's been a long night. Ivar must know how I'm feeling because he doesn't say anything to me like he normally does. Instead, he pours gasoline on the floor and table and points to the lighter in my pocket with a smile. 

Once I light the blood-soaked dirty blonde locks on the dead man lying there, I look back at Ivar pouring two plastic cups of wine from his bag. He hands me a cup and we toast. "You ready to go?"

I love the way the fumes look while sipping on my drink. Everything looks wavy and there's a hint of blue and yellow dancing in the air. The smell is heavenly and it reminds me that we haven't had dinner. "Yeah. Can we stop by Burger King?"

Sated, full, and now showered, I lay on my bed and close my eyes. I had so much fun tonight and I know I will sleep peacefully. I look over at my cell phone lighting up on the night table and smile. "Hey, Thora.” Just hearing her voice and knowing that she's alright is the perfect ending to a perfect day.

Ivar's happy. I feel normal again. Thora's safe.  

Life is good.

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@youbloodymadgenius  @idea-garden  @kol--mikaelson  @mooniemouse @didiintheblog @tempt-ress @crazyaboutmotleycrue @where-beauty-goes-to-die @waiting4inspiration @oddsnendsfanfics @geekandbooknerd

[dearoldtuxedo]

Wet Dream

OOC: So, this inspiration came to me by a little grayface. Mostly because I was in a huge mood for furry smut anyways. NSFW under the cut. Italic font for (Dream) Drooper’s dialogue.

Here we are, in the privacy of my own bedroom, smooching up a slobbery storm with my lovely kitten, on the heart shaped bed. That's right. Who else than yours truly, Tux The Tuxedo, and Drooper of The Banana Splits? As I was sayin', we were smooching up a slobbery storm. My arms wrapped around his torso, with his legs around my waist. The kissed we shared was a little more messier than our usual make out sessions. Saliva was flying and dripping down. Our tongues were wrestling, and sometimes they'd tie into knots. 

While we still continued to French each other, one of my hands reached down to lift up Drooper's tail, and the other gave that lion tush a good hard spank! Drooper stopped kissing to let out a yelp, followed by a light moan.

"Uhh- baby."  "You like that, don't you?"

I continued to spank him around, but not hard enough. No, I gotta save my real strength for the best part to come. I spanked him, and spanked him, and spanked him. I spoke vulgarly, in a raspy tone, over his moans.

"You may be king of the beasts, but I'm king of the sheets. When I'm through with you, babe, you won't be able to walk for a month. You're gonna have to ask me to carry you places instead. Every time you try to sit down, you'll be thinking of me." "Tux, enough of the teasin' already! Mah body can't take anymore of this! Just please, sock it to me! Now!" "Oh, such an impatient kitten you are. But whatever you say."

I untied kitten's legs from around my waist, then set him down in front of me on his knees. With my razor sharp claws, I teared off my entire tuxedo in only a second. Despite Drooper's squinty eyes, I could tell he was bedazzled, either by my performance or my muscular built. Whichever it was, it sure made his erection grow. Speaking of which, he looked at mine; That big, thick, furless member with the two bells at the end. Kitten got close, and took it into his hands, also observing its beauty while gently stroking it. Then he said,

"My, my. Darlin', you as hard as steel. But, don't worry. Let ol' Drooper tenderize that meat for ya."

Without hesitation, he took my member into his mouth, and sucked away. Uhhhhhhhh, it felt so good. He was slurping that thing like he hasn't had a bite in a week. He- Ahhhhh, man, I could feel him deepthroat it. He moved in closer to get more of that delicious Tux-junior into his mouth, and the only way to do that was by swallowing it. I gripped his mane tightly as I moaned.

"Ohhhhhh, baby. Yeah, you got it. Right there. That's a good kitten. Uhhh-"

Fffffffffffuuuuuudge! That feels good! He's like a vampire! ...or a vacuum. It will only be a matter of time before he sucks me dry. Darn, I could feel myself starting to leak! I'm- Wait a minute. I don't plan on emptying myself in his stomach! At least not through that end. I separated him out of my mouth, and placed him upon my lap.

"Why'd you stop me?"  "Because, kitten, the real fun is about to begin. In three..."

I parted his right leg.

"two..."

I licked at my fingers to lube them up. 

"one."

There, I inserted my middle finger into his tight hole.

"OH! Tux, baby...!"

He seemed to like that. I added another finger in him. Would've inserted more, but two was my limit. And with my claws, it probably doubled the pleasure. I moved them in and out of his rectum, as he moaned in amusement. 

"Mmmmm, honey, yeah, that feels niiiiiiiiice. Uhhhhhh, uhh, yes!"

He wrapped his arms around my neck as my digits penetrated him. Hehehe, I could feel my fingers get soaked in his juices. They were moist enough to move in further. 

"Darlin', MMMMMmmmmm, please give me more!" 

More?

"More, darlin'! I didn't come over here just for yer fingers! Let me feel you! All of you!"

All of me, huh? I withdrew my fingers, then put him onto the bed, laying him on his back. He smiled a wide grin, watching me spread his legs far apart. Then, I slammed myself inside of him.

"OHHHHHHH-"

I thrusted my member into that tight little hole of his, moving at a steady pace, but grinding at a force so hard. The impact of my strength caused the bed to rock back and forth. The feel of my member squeezed between his rectum, such a sensation to behold. He's so warm. I never wanna leave from him. With each erotic moan, I pushed myself in deeper. I grasped firmly onto his hips, and let my claws sink into his flesh. My face lowered down to his so that we'd touch noses.

"OHHHHHHohohhhhhh, GOODNESS! YES! UHHHHHH, UH... Oh Tux, yes!" “So, that feels good, kitten?" "Yessss! yessssss! Aww gosh, darlin'!" "Is that 'balls-deep' or what?" "UH-" "Take it all in, babe. Let me loosen that tight little cave of yours." "OHHHHH, DARRRRLIN'!"

The room was accompanied by three sounds: The rocking of the bed, the squishy padding noises, and Drooper's moans of rapture.

"Mmmmmmmm, harder darlin'!" "Harder? You want harder, kitten?" “UHHHHHHHH, YES! Harder, darlin'! HAR-DER!" "Beg the snow leopard! Beg him to tear that tunnel of love!" "AHHHH, PLEASE SCREW ME IN HARDER, DARLIN'! Oh yeah, LET ME HAVE IT!" "Harder?" "HARDER!!!"

I released my full strength, and pounded hard enough to send kitten screaming to the heavens, and his tail began to curl up. The bed eventually broke down, but that didn't stop me. I wasn't gonna stop until I reached that climax. Speaking of which...

"OH, TUX! Darlin'! That feels nice! Feels so good!" "I'm almost there, kitten!" "Yes, yes, yes, YESSSSS, UHHHHHHHHH!" "Gonna fill you up with that sweet, magical love juice!" "TUX, YES-" "FILL YOU UP WITH SO MUCH OF IT!"

But, just as I finally reached that orgy, an explosion occurred.

I shot up awake, heavily breathing. My body was hot all over, I was drenched in my own sweat, and I felt something sticky down in my pants. Boy, that was some dream. This was all that potty mouthed stranger's fault. They officially made this cat feel like a horn dog.

That dream was very intense. Too intense for me to handle. Also, very real, although I wasn't myself in that dream. No, this Tux was more crude and dominant, who treated dear Drooper like an object. Those type of men are what we like to call 'jerks.' I would never wanna generalize poor kitten like that, and to the extent of hurting him for my own entertainment, although he seemed to enjoy it. Well, at least Jerk Tux didn't swear once. I'll give him credit for that.

Drooper wasn't himself either. I know my kitten too well to be sure that he isn't THAT confident. He has always been bashful towards my romantic passings, even when we're alone together.

Back to the dream, I don't think I'm ready to face Drooper again tomorrow. I mean, I want to make love, but I'm also very nervous too. I've been a virgin for many, many decades, and I promised to give myself to the guy I can call "the one." Drooper is definitely "the one" for me, and my heart knows it. He's my Lovin' End. But still, it's been so long. What if I screw (no pun intended) the whole experience up, and end up hurting him badly? What if he's not into that type of intimacy? I would be fine, but my hormones will riot! What if he does want it, but I end up regretting it.

Phooey. I don't think I'll be going back to sleep any time soon. I buried myself under the sheets, and started to lightly gnaw on my own tail. It's the perfect substitution for sucking your thumb.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Looking too closely

Summary: After their break up, Grayson and Y/N spend the next two years living their life in very different ways, both still in love with each other. Within those two years, their lives intertwine more than once, leading to memories and emotions surfacing all the while Grayson has to pretend to be happy about Y/N being with someone else. However, looking too closely, Grayson will learn not everything is as it seems.

Warnings: fluff, angst, abuse

Word count: ~ 10k

„I think we need to break up.“

Those words left his lips reluctantly, agonizingly slow and quietly. Y/N blinked fast, trying to wake herself up from this nightmare. She never thought Grayson would leave, not after everything they've been through, not after everything they promised each other.

And they made a lot of promises both truly wanted to keep.

„If that's what you want.“ Her voice is barely above a whisper, words strained.

'No, it's really not.' Grayson thought, feeling a crack in his heart appear and tear down what he and Y/N worked hard to build. He wanted her to fight him on it, to say they can work things out. Instead, he got that. She was giving up on them; the same girl who doesn't know the definition of giving up on people.

Grayson couldn't answer without his voice breaking, so he opted to press his lips together in a thin line, lean his elbows on his knees, look down at the white fluffy carpet Y/N helped him choose and then give the slightest of nods.

Although quiet, Y/N's heartbreak echoed in her mind like a bomb went off in her chest and the effect spread throughout her body soon after. It crushed her completely, yet she kept a straight face and stared ahead without blinking.

As heavy as her heart felt, her body was dead weight at this point. She forced herself to stand, surprised she could at all. There was no resistance on Grayson's part no matter how badly she wished for it. She knew him staring at that carpet was his way of letting her know he's sorry just as much as her hand reaching for his shoulder was her way of letting him know she is too.

However, she didn't simply reach for his shoulder. Her hand moved to his neck, rubbing her thumb up and down his warm skin before leaning in. Her lips pressed against his cheekbone, unable to touch the actual cheek in his position. Grayson tenses, holding his breath. She felt it under her fingertips. She felt him stop breathing with the touch of her lips upon his skin and she knew he didn't want this. Not really. But he didn't voice that and she wasn't about to press him to fight for her.

If this is what he needs, it's what she'll give him.

Retracting her hand and lips, Y/N takes her bag and moves toward the door without daring to look back.

Grayson couldn't do the same. He watched her walk away, staring at her back while praying she turns around and runs to his embrace.

But she didn't.

Y/N walked through those doors and it's the last time Grayson saw her in the next five months.

**

Five months of missing someone. Five months of healing. Five months of new beginnings. Both Grayson and Y/N moved on, one better than the other but move on they did.

While Grayson focused more on his family and friends, mental and physical health, Y/N spent her time working toward a degree and meeting new people to help her get out of her head.

Regardless of it all, neither stopped thinking about the other. Grayson held her picture in his wallet even now, his lock screen still of her sleeping on his chest. Y/N watched his videos, analyzing every dark circle under his eyes, every questionable laugh and every time he zoned out.

Neither knew their paths would soon cross and their long journey to one another will begin as well.

**

With a large burger in hands, mouth wide open in order to devour it after a good work out, Grayson sat on a bench. He took the first bite, watching the burger with love many girls wanted to see. He moaned as the taste mixed in his mouth, closing his eyes to feel the full effect.

Little did he know someone was watching him with a fond smile on her lips and heart still very much bleeding for him. Although the wound has almost healed, the scar still stung and ached with even a minor reminder of their past love.

„I always loved watching you eat. Hearing you eat...not exactly up my ally.“ She didn't waste time in casting a casual comment his way, stepping right in front of him.

Grayson recognized her voice immediately, choking on the bite as result.

Her face fell as he began to cough, instinctively slapping him between the shoulder blades to help him catch a breath.

Heaving, Grayson turned to her in shock, mouth still full of food he forgot to chew on.

„Might wanna chew that slowly. Don't want you dying on me.“ She chuckled, picking up a stack of books she dropped...A stack of books Grayson failed to notice before as his eyes were closed and then he practically choked.

„'M sorry. I'll hep.“ Grayson swallowed syllables with the food, going down on his knees to help her out. Their hands brush against each other in the process, the electricity going through them at the contact still present from their past. Grayson always joked how that electrifying touch she held kept his heart beating when he thought he'd give up on everything.

And that thought popped back in their minds simultaneously.

„I got it Gray.“ She smiled from ear to ear, trying to brush back the memory and gather her things.

Grayson took her books in his own arms, keeping them against his chest like prisoners as he stood.

Y/N huffed, her hands on her hips as she looked up at the gentle giant she loved even now.

„Wanna sit with me or do you have somewhere to be?“ Grayson's mouth always moved faster than his brain and he realized it might be inappropriate to be so straightforward with her after all the time they spent apart. He didn't know if she wanted to be around him at all anymore, but he hoped she did.

God, he really hoped she did.

Once he got a proper look, he noticed her hair is different now and her clothes changed. She was no longer a jeans kind of a girl, rather preppy. She grew bangs and her Y/H/C hair is now a deep red which is completely unlike her. She always said she'd never dye her hair, mostly because Grayson never stopped complimenting it. Which is exactly why she changed it. She needed to stop hearing Grayson’s voice in her head every time she took a look in the mirror.

„Um, sure, I have a few minutes.“ She sat down, minding her skirt didn't move up and expose her as she did. Her hands laid flat against her thighs, smoothing over the edges every other second.

Grayson sat beside her, placing the books between them as a barrier of sorts; a way to make her more comfortable. Grayson payed attention to her and her behavior before which is why he knew she plays with her fingers and clothes when she's nervous. He looked closely, fighting a smile from spreading once he noticed her fingernails are still painted a purple color, all but the ring finger she kept a burgundy red as she did before. But he failed to stop himself from smiling once he noticed a flower ring on her right middle finger. Grayson won it in a carnival game their first date and she never took it off. Not even now.

„So...How have you been Munchkin?“ Grayson lets the old nickname slip, stopping his breathing until he sees her smiling instead of frowning. Relieved, he leans toward her slightly, genuinely interested in her answer.

She noticed the nickname he used, remembering how he loved to tease her about her height. She's always loved their height difference, mostly because leaning her head on his chest meant she could her his heart beating like a mess in her presence. It made her smug and happy at the same time, but she never teased him about it. She never let him know she knew just how crazy his heart gets when she's in his proximity.

Brushing her hair behind her ear, Y/N turns to Grayson, straightening her back before leaning on the bench for the first time since they sat down. He knew it meant she was relaxing a little and it was a win in his book.

„Just college. Finishing this year has been hard, but I'm happy I actually managed to pass my tests. What about you?“ She asks sweetly as if she hasn't been following his life the entire time they were apart. She watched his snaps, videos, random photos he'd post, hell, she even became a channel member to keep up with his and Ethan's lives.

„Ethan and I did a bunch of new things for the channel. We took a break earlier this year, to...you know...Get back to a right mindset.“ Grayson tried to avoid saying: WHEN MY HEART BROKE WITHOUT YOU, but he was sure she understood. After all, she was always fluent in Grayson.

„Yeah, I heard. Glad you guys are finally getting back after everything you gave to this world. You deserve it. All of it.“ She flashed him a smile Grayson almost forgot about; the kind of a smile that both lifted him up and gave him wings to fly. She made his heart soar with the slightest curl of her lips and it became unfathomable how he could ever forget the effect she had on him.

The silence between them was painful, once they couldn't stop talking to one another and now they didn't know what to say to each other without sounding desperate or insane. So they kept quiet.

„I should probably go. Got my last exam in a few hours.“ Y/N stood abruptly, smoothing over the ends of her skirt before reaching for the stack of books on the bench.

Grayson stands as well, rubbing the back of his neck in a mixture of panic and confusion, wondering what he did wrong. He just got her back, even if it was just a short while and platonic, but he wasn't ready to let her walk out of his life again.

„Uh, wanna come over after? We're having a small get together at the house.“ Grayson offered, sticking his thumbs into his front pockets, gnawing on his grind tattoo inside his bottom lip nervously.

Y/N looked up silently, meeting Grayson's fleeting gaze while she played with the ring on her finger. She wanted more time with him, she really did. However, she already had other plans for that night and those plans didn't include him at all.

„Gray, I sort of made other plans.“ She looks to the right, training her eyes on the sunflowers growing in the park a few feet away from them. Y/N always loved sunflowers, Grayson knew that. Her eyes naturally followed the flower if it caught her attention and this time was no different.

„If you change your mind, feel free to bring your friends. And good luck on the exam. I know you'll do good, Munch.“ The wind blew Y/N's hair forward, the lingering scent of her jasmine perfume filling Grayson's nostrils and for a moment he forgets she's no longer his. Pushing back her hair, Grayson's hand remains on her cheek. They both freeze in the moment, aware this is an intimate action and the reaction might determine things they weren't ready for.

So, Grayson is the first to step back and give her a tight-lipped smile.

Y/N gives him a small wave, trying to ignore the burning sensation of his skin upon hers as his touch is still very much real in her mind. She turns her back on him once again and walks away, stopping short just for a single moment, her head turning to the left ever so slightly as if she's about to glance at Grayson one more time.

'Look back. Look back baby.' Grayson thinks, hoping with everything he has that she turns back and lets him know she's not completely lost to him.

But she doesn't.

And Grayson is forced to watch her go once more.

**

Grayson did not expect that night to be so filled with surprises, both good and bad.

He went about his day with a heart a little heavier than usual and decided on not mentioning Y/N to Ethan at all as Ethan still missed her just as much as he did. She was in their lives for four years, two of those as Grayson’s girlfriend, so it wasn't hard to believe she and Ethan had a connection of their own.

Bryant, Emma and James arrived, a bunch of snacks everywhere and music playing in the background while Grayson stole glances at his phone in hopes of hearing from Y/N. He knew it was a slim shot, but he didn't want to miss her text should she send one.

„GRAYSON?!“ Ethan shouted from the other room, scaring everyone. The entire room turned toward the door as Ethan passed through the doorway, followed by a short girl with red hair. While James and Emma were clueless about her identity, Ethan and Grayson had stared at each other without speaking.

Grayson felt his heart would burst as happiness took over his entire system. His hazel eyes focused on her smaller figure and the tiny, shy wave she gave the room while pulling down her sleeves subconsciously.

Grayson stood, approaching her with the biggest, brightest smile on his lips until someone else walks in.

A guy almost as tall as Grayson walked into the room, standing behind his dear Y/N with a hand going around her waist almost instantly. The guy had black hair and blue eyes Y/N used to say she adored before meeting Grayson, his body muscular and lean with a soft smile on his lips.

Grayson already disliked him.

„Everyone, this is Y/N, one of our, uh, best friends.“ Ethan introduced her, glancing at his brother to see if he's alright.

The smile now wiped from Grayson's face and Y/N's uncertain gaze moving to everyone but Grayson had given him all the information he needed. Neither Grayson or Y/N were okay with this thing.

„Come on then.“ Emma waved her over and she looked up to the guy she came in with, almost like she's checking if he's okay with everything too.

Once he gives her a slight nod, she walks toward Grayson instead of Emma.

„Hope you don't mind. I brought my plans here.“ She knew it was wrong. Hell, she didn't even want this tonight. Not one bit.

„Totally fine. The more the merrier!“ Grayson faked excitement, his voice going higher than usual, betraying his emotions. No one but Ethan and Y/N picked up on it.

„I'm Chuck.“ The man introduced himself, outstretching a hand for Grayson to shake.

Grayson didn't think twice about it, taking his hand.

Chuck's grip is tight and firm, crushing even. But Grayson refused to show weakness. He wasn't about to start something with a guy Y/N clearly isn't just friends with.

„Her boyfriend.“ Chuck adds while maintaining eye contact with Grayson.

Grayson heard the underlying warning in that statement, narrowing his eyes at the guy slightly while his jaw clenched.

„Make yourself comfortable. I'll go and get refreshments.“ Grayson let go of his death grip hand, leaving the room as quickly as possible. He needed to get away and fast before he blows a fuse and makes a scene which would only create more distance between him and Y/N.

„You okay?“ But then he hears her voice and his breath catches in his throat again. Grayson realized her voice is becoming a hazard for his safety and he couldn't care less. He'd rather die with her voice still fresh in his mind than spend his whole life without ever hearing it again.

„Peachy.“ Grayson managed to answer, grabbing a few glasses before moving to the fridge.

„I didn't know how to tell you. I mentioned you inviting me tonight to Chuck and he really wanted to meet you guys. I'm sorry for invading your home like this.“ She came closer and Grayson released a heavy sigh.

„No, no. Don't apologize. You have every right to move on and be with someone else. Besides, I was the one who told you to bring whoever you had plans with.“ Grayson still avoided eye contact and it created a knot in Y/N's stomach, one only Grayson had the ability to untie.

„We won't stay long. Promise.“ She keeps on using her sweet voice and Grayson knows she's not pretending. It's just the way she is: sweet and considerate. It's one of the many reasons why he loves her.

Grayson slams the refrigerator door and turns to her abruptly with a pensive look.

„Do you remember the night we met?“ He asks all of a sudden and Y/N's eyes widen and fall to his chest for a single second before she looks up again with a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

She’d never forget the night she met him. It was the same night she knew he was her future and although it took them a while to get together, she didn’t mind. He became her best friend first and lover second. It’s why they worked so well.

„How can I not? You were the tallest guy in the room and I was drawn to you for some inexplicable reason...Like a moth to a flame.“ She bites her lower lip and Grayson finds it hard to keep his hands to himself. She had a habit of biting her lower lip whenever she was about to kiss him and...well, old habits die hard for Grayson.

It was a struggle, but he kept a healthy distance between them. Reminding himself she's no longer his, Grayson nods to her words with the smallest of smiles he could muster that would seem genuine.

„And you were easily the most beautiful Munchkin in the room.“ He adds, his smile widening a little with the memory of her flawless Y/E/C eyes looking at him with such interest that night he just knew they had a future together.

„And you made me jump for a high five!“ She laughs, leaning on the counter with a slight shake of her head.

„To be fair, I did that to you all the time.“ Grayson couldn't help but enjoy her laugh, letting it sear into his memory for safe keeping. It's become abundantly clear how many things he began to forget about her and it unsettled him.

„And I hated it.“ She bites her lower lip again and Grayson can't help but wonder if she knows what it does to him.

'Is she purposely torturing me?' He thought.

„You loved it.“ He comes closer, completely oblivious to the closing space between them.

„Maybe.“ She tilts her head to the left, her eyes flicker to his lips for a single glance before locking on his hazel hues again.

„You keep forgetting I know you, Y/N. I know who you are. I know what you love.“ Grayson gained confidence as she never once stepped back with each inch he advanced toward her. They stood so close to one another and it felt...Natural. It felt completely natural to be so near her to feel that jasmine perfume on her as it was natural for her to feel the scent of Grayson's aftershave.

„Where are you guys?!“ Bryant called for them, pushing an invisible barrier between them.

Y/N steps back, sheepishly grabbing two sodas from the counter. She looks back up, pressing her lips together before giving a curt nod. Turning on her heel, she leaves the room leaving Grayson a mess.

He groaned, running a hand down his face before grabbing the rest of the drinks and joining the group.

First thing he looks for upon entering is Y/N. He finds her sitting on Chuck's lap, both of his hands around her while she takes a sip of soda, laughing at Emma's attempt to do karaoke and dance to a song she clearly didn't even hear of before.

While he wants to let his inner self out, let Y/N know how badly it hurts to see her with another, Grayson stuffs it all down and plasters a fake smile on his face. He leans back on the wall, occasionally letting his eyes wander the room with the sole purpose of seeing Y/N without arousing suspicion.

Those hands around her body should be his. The laugh bubbling from her chest should be for him. Those lips of her should only kiss his.

These thoughts haunt him and chip away at the happiness he's been faking since the day he let her walk away from him the first time around.

Before he knows it, Y/N and Chuck are excusing themselves, saying goodbye to everyone. Y/N hugged everyone in the room, giving Ethan a longer hug than anyone else. Grayson waited for his turn eagerly, feeling his chest move with the force of his pounding heart.

Once she steps in front of him, Y/N wraps her arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze. It didn't feel like a goodbye hug, but a never-let-me-go kind of a hug. She had her head resting on his chest with eyes closed, enjoying the way his heart raced because of her like it used to do so many times before.

Unable to keep a smile from forming, she pushes herself to move away, knowing it wouldn't be smart to keep the hug going any longer. Both of them wanted to stay in each other's arms, but neither voiced it.

Y/N spent the whole night hoping Grayson would say something and there was a moment in the kitchen she was so sure he'd tell her he wants to work on them and ask her to consider it, but he didn't.

So, instead of staying with Grayson to talk all night while laying on his chest and listening to his heart beating, Y/N found herself wrapped up in Chuck's arms, walking away from Grayson again as if it has become their thing; walking away without a fight for what they both want but are afraid to speak of.

And that's why Grayson stands in his driveway watching the girl he refereed to as his soulmate, his destiny and once in a lifetime love, drive away with another man.

**

„You and Grayson seem pretty friendly.“ Chuck states, moving his hand to her knee casually.

„We've known each other for a long time, Chuck. He's a big part of my life.“ Y/N explains, not going into detail of their relationship at all, especially not about the nature of their relationship.

„Ever hooked up?“ Chuck asks, keeping his gaze on the road while Y/N swallows thickly as his hand begins to close around her knee.

„Just really good friends. No need to worry.“ Y/N smiles, wondering why is Chuck acting so weird. She's been with him for a month now, finding him at a time she really needed someone. It was a moment of weakness, but he made her smile and she missed feeling wanted and needed.

„I believe you.“ He says, throwing on his charming smile that made Y/N interested in the first place.

Chuck is a very charming man. In a room full of people, he's always the center of attention, someone people look to for advice and someone who is very respected. Y/N appreciated that, finding herself flattered for being with a man who so clearly could do better. He's only five years her senior, a professor in her university.

I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't like that. He was never her professor.

„You should. I have no reason to lie.“ Y/N smiled back at him, feeling her pulse racing and heat rushing to her cheeks. This is exactly the reason why she was grateful for the inability to blush, knowing well it's the biggest reason why she can lie straight through her teeth and get away with it.

„Good. You know I hate liars.“ Chuck retracted his hand, his voice going deeper while Y/N turned her head to the side and watched the world blur outside her window.

**

Grayson had been thinking about Y/N non stop and it got to a point where Ethan heard him speak her name in his sleep. There was no denying he was right back where he was after their break up and the wound that was almost healed broke open again. It brought him pain, actual physical ache in his chest.

Loving Y/N was so easy, like sunshine. She made him feel safe and sound, giving him a steady place to rest his head and let down his defenses. When that was gone Grayson lost his sense of direction, pulling him into darkness he barely got out of. It taught him to depend on himself and no one else, made him stronger than he believed possible. All that work was still there, but he was back on square one.

She wasn't there anymore.

Grayson found that she may not be the Sun, but she is his sky as Ethan is his moon. Without her or him, there's no Grayson.

Although he convinced himself he could live without her, he didn't want to. Not ever.

He watched her pictures, studying her smile. He needed to see if it was as bright as it was with him, if her eyes sparkled like they did before. It was killing him that she found someone else while he couldn't bare another in his proximity, but it helped him come to a decision.

He'd be friends with Y/N, be happy for her and support her, but he had to move on as well.

And he did.

**

Almost two months passed between their last official encounter and neither expected to meet again. Sure, Y/N noticed Grayson's Bronco drive past her on the street, catching a glimpse of the hunk just enough to keep him on her mind. However, they hadn't spoken in months again, both living their separate lives as their pride kept them apart.

It wasn't only pride, but fear as well. Grayson feared he'd lose her completely if he came out and told her how he feels, while Y/N feared he simply didn't care anymore. So they kept their distance and watched the other from afar with hopes of finding true happiness themselves.

But they were faced with each other once more, except Grayson wasn't alone.

„Y/N?“ Grayson smiled widely, focusing on the girl he so longed for while completely ignoring the very annoyed Chuck.

„Oh, hey!“ Y/N could never stop herself from smiling when Grayson’s around, turning her into the shy, awkward girl she used to be when they first met. Unlike Grayson, she didn't ignore the woman on his arm as it hit her like lightning.

„Aaand Alexis Ren?“ She formed it as a question, but she knew the truth. It was Alexis Ren.

In their relationship, there was only one incident where jealousy became a problem and it was about five months into their love. And that incident included Alexis Ren.

Grayson always considered Alexis Ren attractive and whether he realized it or not, he had liked every photo, video or tweet that included her in any way. Once Y/N came into his life, she didn't pay much attention to the rumors and fans supporting that particular ship until she spent the night with Grayson and his friends that included Alexis Ren.

Not only did her boyfriend get easily flustered and turned into a stuttering mess, he also kept stealing glances at Alexis Ren the entire night and it was only natural Y/N felt uneasy and her trust in Grayson began to dwindle.

„Do you even like me?“ She asked him the same night getting a rather confused reaction on Grayson's behalf.

„I more than like you, Y/N. Why are you asking me that?“ He sat on the carpet before her, his hands resting on her knees while looking in her eyes. She almost never showed sadness or any of the negative emotions in the past, so Grayson really didn't know how to handle her at the moment.

„I saw you with Alexis Ren. You basically had heart eyes and I just feel...embarrassed and like you should maybe be with someone better suited for you. I know she's prettier than me.“ She began to breathe heavier, taking short breaths that made her chest shake and her eyes were fighting tears Grayson heard coming just by the way her voice changed at the end of her sentence.

He couldn't believe she was even feeling that way, much less that he made her feel that way. Sure, he did allow himself a few quick glances, but he never once thought about acting upon it. Alexis is attractive and yes, he did want something with her before, but not now. Not since he met Y/N; the beautiful, stubborn, shy, funny as hell Y/N.

He took her hands in his, placing them flat against his chest. He knew she always took notice of the way his heart is frantic when she touches him from the start, but this time he needed to remind her of it.

She looked at him, her bottom lip quivering as her tears began to make tracks down her cheeks subsequently hurting Grayson as well.

„I have no interest in Alexis. Not the slightest bit. Ever since we met, I've only ever thought about you. You're all I want, Y/N. I love you.“ Grayson hoped he was persuasive enough to convince this amazing girl before him that she is more than worthy of him. In fact, he was sure he's the one who didn't deserve her. She was his wildest dream and sweetest fantasy.

„You promise?“ She sniffled, watching Grayson intently. Her eyes felt like lie detectors, one lie and he'd be found out. But he had no reason to lie. He meant what he said.

„Promise.“

And he made her a promise, one she wholeheartedly doubted now. If he was being honest with her then, why was he with her now?

Alexis Ren.

She couldn't even refer to her by her name, only the full name that made her heart beat fiercely and vengefully.

You see, Y/N Y/L/N doesn't have a single vengeful bone in her body, yet she wanted to be that person so bad. She wanted to throw that promise back in Grayson's face as she saw him nod in confirmation of her identity. She wanted to remind him how he lied to her when she noticed Grayson's arm holding her so close to his body like he did with her before. She wanted to scream and shout, break things and cry.

But all that came out was a court: „Nice to see you again. Grayson SURE lucked out.“

She pulled back the mask of fake politeness, smiling just for the sake of smiling and only Grayson could tell. He noticed there was no crinkling in the corner of her eyes, no light in those Y/E/C hues and her face was moments from twitching from keeping up that cold smile she directed toward Alexis.

„I'm the lucky one.“ Alexis turned to Grayson, pecking his cheek while Grayson smiled awkwardly, avoiding Y/N's gaze like the plague. He was well aware what this implied and he didn't like it one bit.

Y/N was about to say something when instead of words a quiet yelp left her lips.

Grayson's eyes located her fast, looking her over for any injuries but found none. All he saw was Chuck with his arm around her waist, a hand on her hip. Y/N's lips pressed together and her nostrils flared slightly before returning to normal. It was a small gesture that ended faster than it began, but Grayson knew something wasn't quite right.

„Is everything okay?“ Grayson asked, worried about his Y/N. He still thought about her as his.

„Yeah, just a leg cramp. I'm good.“ Y/N's fake smile remained, her eyes void of any sparkles that were so vivid in Grayson's imagination back in the day. In fact, she was tense and rigid which is so unlike her. Unless she's angry with him for being with Alexis.

„Oh. Okay. I guess.“ Grayson furrowed his brows, his eyes going back to the hand Chuck held on her hip.

„It was nice seeing you. I'm afraid we must be going.“ Chuck excused them, finishing up this interaction politely with a charming smile. He is the finest diplomat Y/N's ever seen. He puts everyone at ease, draws them into liking him and it always worked for him.

„Have a good night.“ Alexis adds while Grayson turns around and follows them with his gaze all the way to the door.

He noticed Chuck walking a little too fast for Y/N to keep up with, but his hand was on her hip still and it wasn't relenting. In fact, Grayson was sure he saw it tighten to a point where her was halfway creating a fist with his grip. It must have been painful for Y/N, but she didn't say anything. Although the feeling in his chest told him he should go after them, Grayson convinced himself he was seeing things. There was no way she'd ever be with someone who didn't deserve her love and attention. She wasn't a pushover. He taught her to box.

Grayson kept listing all the reasons why he needed to stay right where he is instead of following the couple, but nothing seemed to keep him in place.

„I'll be right back.“ Grayson untangled himself from Alexis and all but ran outside.

Despite his decision, he was a little too late, seeing the car already disappear in the distance.

**

Grayson made it a point to show up outside her university the next day, waiting for hours just to see her.

She showed up about four hours into his wait, almost passing him by in her hurry. She walked with her head held down and her books close to her chest. Her clothes were baggier than what he had seen on her the past few months, reminding him of the way she used to dress. In fact, upon better inspection, she was wearing his playboy hoodie.

„Y/N!“ He rushed after her, shouting her name like a fool.

Y/N turned around with a questioning look in her eyes, squinting as the Sun shone upon her face.

„Gray? What are you doing here?“ She stepped closer to him, using her hand to shield her eyes from the Sun.

Grayson turned to his car, taking a cup in his hand and handed it over to Y/N.

„Brought you tea. It's cold now.“ He ran a hand through his hair, noticing a light smile grace her lips. And it's when he sees it. A gash on her bottom lip with slight swelling.

„What the hell happened to your lip?!“ He shouts making her flinch on instinct. Her brain had shut down for a split second. She was clammy and there was the glisten of a cold sweat. Her eyes were as wide as if someone was coming to deliver the fatal blow.

„Gosh, I didn't meant to yell. I'm sorry.“ Grayson came closer, but Y/N took a step back.

„It's fine. I just hate when people yell.“ She says, her eyes looking at the concrete instead of Grayson. Y/N's the type to make eye contact when she speaks and she was avoiding it, telling Grayson she was hiding something.

„What happened to you?“ Grayson asks softly, his words coated in worry for her well-being.

„I hit myself with the door last night. Miscalculated how far I had it opened before getting out of the car and BAM.“ Y/N chuckles, wincing right after as her lip tried to spread into a smile.

„You sure?“ Grayson tries, not completely sold on the story. Sure, she's a klutz, but he didn't believe it.

„Yeah. Why would I lie?“ She raises her eyebrow, implying Alexis and her presence the night before was a betrayal on his part.

„Alright. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. If you ever need me, don't hesitate.“ Grayson adds, hoping she understands his message: CALL ME IF YOU NEED ME, NO MATTER WHAT IT IS.

He was being subtle when his brain was screaming.

„Thanks. You too.“ She takes a sip of the tea, tasting it's ginger; her favorite.

Grayson nodded, seeing her walk away as they parted ways once more.

**

„I'm just tired.“ Grayson avoided seeing Alexis, finding her company does help him but she just wasn't something he wanted in the long run. He wanted to find a nice way to let her know them dating isn't going anywhere.

„See you some other night.“ He hangs up, sitting on a bench he saw Y/N seven months ago. His fingers tangle inside his hair, his mind racing with possibilities. His mood dropped significantly for good reason: not only was it close to Y/N's birthday, but she's also been avoiding him.

He tried to find her on campus too, but apparently her attendance dropped in the last few months. He couldn't get her on the phone, social media or even her parents.

Ethan tried to find her himself, failing just as Grayson did.

Grayson's been more than worried, he panicked at this point. He was unsteady and only she could ease his mind.

„We gotta stop meeting like this.“ He hears a voice he'd recognize among thousands of women, turning to her like she's a mirage.

She had her black leggings on with her favorite sneakers on and HIS playboy hoodie hugged her body. Her nails were all painted black, chipped at places, but the flower ring still remained in its place. Her hair grew longer than before, the red color dropped as her own began to grow.

Instead of replying, Grayson scooped her up in his arms, hugging her close to his body like he hasn't done in exactly a year. He inhaled her jasmine perfume and lavender scented hair without shame, tightening his hold on her until she cried out in pain.

„Did I squeeze too tight?“ Grayson's eyes widened, lips parted as his hands attached themselves to her face, cupping it with his palms.

„No, I just had a small accident in the gym. Managed to strain a muscle on those arm thingies.“ She explains, biting her lower lip while pulling down the sleeves over her hands. Grayson remembers her having trouble with certain machines, especially the one meant for arms. It was something designed for more muscular people, but Y/N always insisted on doing those exercises and Grayson 'helped' her. What he really meant by help is that he basically lifted most of the weight himself, letting her believe she could do it on her own.

But this alone made him suspicions. She wouldn't be able to lift that weight on her own and that means she couldn't get hurt like that. He didn't understand why she was lying to him, just that she's lying. And he didn't like it at all. Y/N's always been an honest, forthcoming person and this was completely out of character.

„Right. Like you hit yourself with the car door? Like you had a leg cramp?“ Grayson remembered other times she lied to him, wondering if this is a good idea at all.

„What's your point?!“ Her voice raised a little, turning stern and unforgiving.

He knew it would be a bad idea to confront her right now. Grayson sighs, letting his hands rest back in his lap.

„I just need you to be okay. Safe.“ Grayson mutters, picking at a small hole in his pants he never noticed before.

„I'm fine, Gray. Just leave it alone, okay? I'm sure you have more than enough problems with Alexis Ren to deal with. I'm no longer your concern.“ The defensive tone she used wasn't lost on Grayson, nor was the clear 'stay out of my life' message. He heard her loud and clear and it made him truly angry. It made him angry she'd ever think that way.

„You'll always be my concern.“ Grayson stated before standing up and leaving.

For the first time in a year, Y/N's the one watching his retreating figure until he disappears from sight.

She pulls her sleeves up, inspecting the bruises on her wrists with tears pricking her eyes. Looking up with her lips firmly pressed together, a small whimper left her lips in hopes of a better tomorrow.

She hates pushing him away, but it's what he needs. Grayson involving himself in her life would only make it worse and she wanted him to be happy...even if it was with Alexis Ren.

**

Another FOUR months went by, Y/N's birthday with them too. They went by so agonizingly slow that Grayson was sure he'd lose his mind.

While his thing with Alexis was over, Y/N and Chuck were still going strong. She seemed so happy in public, but he wondered what was behind the curtain. Maybe he was just looking too closely to find something he did better than Chuck, just to feed his own ego? Or maybe he was onto something?

Either way, he had no answers.

His conversations with Y/N were all too short or they all ended up with one of them getting angry or frustrated with the other. He wanted her to be honest with him, but there was nothing to hold onto there. She refused to give him the benefit of the doubt and Grayson grew tired of trying.

Ethan and Grayson spent the summer mainly in New Jersey and Hawaii, relaxing and actually trying to forget about the world. Grayson even used the opportunity to find some harmless fun, getting his mind off Y/N and for the first time in a long time he completely pushed her to the very back of his mind. She was hidden inside the darkest corners in his mind and it made it easier for him to breathe.

**

While Grayson was living it up the entire time, Y/N struggled to find a footing. She thought about alcohol to drown her sorrows in, but even looking at the bottle she could hear Grayson's voice in her mind:

„Alcohol is never the solution.“

She rolled her eyes and huffed each time she heard those words in the past and continued to do so in the present, but it did stop her from acting in such a way.

Her classes were finally done, a diploma secured a year earlier than expected. She was supposed to be happy next to Grayson who would be there and celebrate with her, but instead she locked herself up in the bathroom, listening to Chuck swearing and throwing things in fits of anger.

Chuck really is a charming man, luring you into what seems to be a picture perfect life. However, he is a master manipulator with anger issues. Although he never hit her in the actual sense of the word, his grip on her is always too tight and his way in the bedroom is too rough. Sometimes he's thrown things that ended up hitting her and he'd apologize, claiming it was an accident.

She didn't believe him.

In fact, Y/N desperately wanted an out from this relationship for the longest time. She tried to report him to the police and they laughed it off as they knew him as a respected member of the community. Her bruises were written off as bedroom antics and her accusations as silly notions.

Chuck had them all fooled.

When she tried to leave...that's when he grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her back so violently she fell into the glass coffee table behind her. Those were the wounds and bruises Grayson pressed on during their hug. A hug she needed more than air. A hug she felt had healing properties.

She loved Grayson...enough to keep him out of this mess. She was stuck, looking for a way out, but if Grayson found out...Well, he always had a big heart. He'd step in and doing so, he'd be the one getting hurt.

And that was something she couldn't handle.

**

Winter took over as months went by. Y/N felt numb, lost with everything that's been happening lately.

She’s been completely isolated from friends and family, finding Chuck became too jealous of her even talking to someone without him present. The control he had on her life had become suffocating and she was losing her mind, prepared to do anything to get away from him.

Chuck took her by surprise when he introduced her to his family and friends as his fiance. She wanted to scream it's all lies, but there wasn't a way for her to fight him.

Not there on his turf.

So, she waited for him to go to work the next day and packed all her belongings, moving away from her home he found appropriate to move into without letting her know first.

With her things left at a storage unit, only one suitcase and all her cash in her pocket, Y/N boarded the plane to New York. After being in LA for so long, all she ever craved was the snowy city. She hated snow and she hated being cold, but she still liked it better than dealing with a maniac she left behind.

With her signature on the lease for the apartment she cancelled payments on, a note that says they're over and everything he ever gave her left on the bed, Y/N figured it would be best to remove herself from that situation entirely. She contacted more law enforcement, got a lawyer even to get a restraining order set in place. 

Going to New York was her way of breathing fresher air.

The last time she remembers being blissfully happy is when she went to New York with Grayson. She met his entire family, had seen snow for the first time in her life and actually came to a realization: She wanted to spend her entire life with Grayson Bailey Dolan.

Chasing that feeling, she found herself sitting on a bench with a cup of ginger tea in her hands at the Rockefeller Center. Her thoughts wandered back to the past and to the only guy she ever loved.

Y/N was a firm believer in soulmates and true love, leading Grayson to accept her beliefs as well in time. He's always been the type to listen and actually care about her opinions. He never brushed her off, never once tried to make her feel like she didn't matter.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N found she's responsible for herself in all ways and she chooses to be happy, to lead a positive life, to listen to the melody of love, to heal. For the first time in so very long, her soul has peace. As if with a quiet choice she commanded a hurricane to become still, and it did.

„We gotta stop meeting this way.“

And then her hurricane makes a comeback.

„Grayson?!“ She couldn't contain her surprise and excitement upon seeing him in his black coat with a cup of coffee in hand.

„Were you expecting someone else Munchkin?“ Grayson teases, making sure to note her getting up to properly talk to him but without inviting him to sit. He figured it was just her nerves, not her need to run from him.

„I...You're here?“ She stumbles upon the proper words, her brain turning to mush.

Grayson's scruff grew, his beanie protecting him from the cold, his eyes brown this night and a scarf keeping him toasty on top of it all.

„Unless I'm a hologram like everyone says.“ Grayson chuckles, trying to hide his own surprise.

However, he's had ten minutes to calm down and talk to her normally as he's been staring at her for a while now. He just needed to see her without having her run off.

„Didn't know you were here.“ She bites her lower lip and Grayson watches her lip like hypnotized. That gesture will never not affect him.

„Came home for holidays and Ethan had a date so I figured some alone time in the city wouldn't be so bad.“ Grayson shrugs, keeping on a radiant smile on his lips that made Y/N feel like it was summer.

Without realizing it, she stared at him at a loss for words and Grayson couldn't help but feel smug about it. Although he's grown a lot in the past two years since their break up, he still felt giddy about her. He never stopped loving her.

„Come sit with me. No agenda, no sensors. Just you and me and our favorite songs. Let’s talk about how strange the world is, and what we’re actually doing here, and then laugh until it doesn’t scare us anymore. What do you say?“

Grayson's words had made her head spin, so instead of words she decided on sitting down.

„I want to be honest with you.“ She begins, drawing in a deep breath before continuing.

Grayson kept quiet, knowing all he needed to do is listen.

„Chuck...He's been...God...I can't even explain.“ She finds herself in a need to look away, almost ashamed of the way she was roped into the abusive, manipulative relationship with Chuck. Ashamed of not being honest about needing help, humiliated about allowing someone to treat her that way when she still loved another. But to be perfectly honest, she spent the past 20 months paralyzed in fear.

„Did he...hurt you?“ Grayson rests his hand upon hers, making it a point to look into her eyes as they could never deceive him.

Y/N nods instead of speaking, seeing Grayson's face contort with anger. But he wasn't violent, he wasn't about to hurt her. His hold on her hand was gentle. Only his jaw clenching and eyes darkening could let anyone in on the way he feels.

„So, all those times I asked you....Why didn't you say anything? I could have helped you.“ Grayson turned to her, helpless, feeling useless.

„I didn't want you to get too involved and get yourself in the line of fire. He's a charming manipulator who has connections. He actually told his family we're to be married the other night and I just grabbed my things and left the country. The police just brushed me off, Gray. I couldn't do that to you. He's dangerous.“ No matter how hard she tried to be brave, her experience was breaking a piece of the mask she's been wearing with every new revelation made.

„I have connections too! Gosh, I could have done more. I should have done more.“ He could barely look at Y/N without feeling guilty, without seeing that psycho putting his hands on her.

„I found my own way to deal with it. I might need some time to heal and properly breathe again, to be me.” Grayson was fighting tears from his anger mixing with heartbreak over what she’s been going through.

„BUT! You're here now. By some crazy twist of fate, you're here. Call it serendipity if you will, but it's true. You and I managed to meet at the Rockefeller center which is where I was so, so happy. And you being there with me that night was a big reason why.“ She's the one to cup his face this time around, pressing their foreheads together without reservation. She felt his nose brush against hers and his breath hitch, making her smile.

„Can I kiss you?“ Grayson whispers, his lips brushing hers as he speaks.

„It's kind of mandatory. Unless Alexis Ren is around.“ Y/N moves a few inches away, making Grayson roll his eyes before slamming his lips upon hers.

The very taste of her lips on his had solicited a deep moan from Grayson, everything they've been through before now becoming a distant memory. The feeling of her lips moving against his with just as much need and want had his heart struggling to keep beating at the rate it was going while Y/N swore her heart grew in size.

„Ewww.“ A kid passing by made a disgusted noise, causing the young lovers to stop their movements and laugh in embarrassment.

„This is why kids annoy me.“ Y/N jokes getting Grayson to pout as he always did on the mention of kids. Y/N always claimed she isn't a fan of kids and tends to shy away from them if possible, but when Grayson asked her about them having kids, she gave him a simple answer:

„I'll love our kid! It's most other kids I have a problem with.“

„As much as I enjoy lip-locking with you, I think I need to be honest with you too.“ Grayson licks his lips, nervously smiling.

„I never wanted to break up. I was screaming 'Stay' all the while and I thought you wanted it. Things got so crazy after that pregnancy scare and we both said and did things we didn't mean and I honestly didn't think we'd be away from one another so long. I figured a week or two would do the trick...just to help all those emotions settle. But I lost two years with you for that stupid move. You spent those years in hell and I barely noticed. I was looking so closely and barely saw anything. I just...I want to apologize for not being brave enough to fight for you.“ Grayson casts her a glance, closing his eyes right after.

Her right palm caressed his face, smiling at him with a newfound willingness to move forward.

„I never want to you to think it's your fault. I didn't want to break up either and I didn't say anything. I never should have gotten involved with Chuck, but I needed to find a way to forget you and he was so damn charming and I have no clue how I even ended up with him. It was my choice to keep it all from you and seeing you, knowing you cared made me feel better. You were the sole light in the darkness. There's nothing to forgive Grayson.“

Her words settled his storm for now, calming the sea for the time being.

„Want to go ice skating'“ Grayson nods toward the rink with a devilish smile. His hands held onto Y/N's cold ones, rubbing them and blowing and huffing into them to keep her warm. It's another thing about her: cold hands no matter the weather.

„So we can knock down more people? Aren't we banned here?“ Y/N laughed, remembering events from two years ago, only a month before her pregnancy scare.

„I taught you to skate minutes before! It's great for your first time on ice!“ He exclaimed, pulling her up to her feet.

„C'mon! I won't let you fall.“ With Grayson already leading the way, Y/N knew she was screwed.

The last time they came here, Grayson taught her to skate. By taught, it means he would hold her hands until they gain momentum and release her when she least expects it. Unfortunately, at one point, she slipped and knocked down not only Grayson but five other people as well. It was a disaster! One she keeps in her heart as one of her favorite memories. They laughed so hard that night, kissing, exchanging proclamations of love: the sappier the better.

And now, she's stepping on the same ice with the same man as before, but things are different now. They both grew and matured, developed as people which essentially changed them in their core. Neither of them were the same and they were eager to learn what changed and to what extent.

„Hold onto me.“ Grayson had turned toward her, letting her take his hands for support as he pulled her closer to him.

„If you let me go I'm never going to speak to you again!“ She whisper shouts, looking around to make sure no one is too close. Her legs wobbled a little like a newborn deer and he chuckled at her uncertainty.

„Stop laughing!“ She shouts, grabbing at his shoulders to stop herself from falling.

„I can't! You're always so good at anything you try and ice skating is what stops you?“ Grayson couldn't help himself, throwing his head back as his chuckles turned into a booming laugh.

„If I'm clumsy off ice, why did you ever think I'd be good on ice?“ She grits her teeth, annoyed with this possibility of getting herself a broken limb in the best case scenario.

„You’re still perfect to me. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll help you out.“ He said and she nodded in acknowledgement. His breath was coming out as vapor, bits of his hair sticking out from his beanie and onto his face, making him more adorable than before and she melts at the sight, tuning out his new, refreshed instructions to keep herself on her feet instead of face down on the ice.

He showed her how to move and keep up, no fancy moves just to make sure she gets out the rink without breaking her legs in the process.

Y/N told him to let go, so she could try skating on her own, which didn’t go quite as planned. She began to slam the edges of her blades against the ice, while Grayson was scratching the delicate surface, gliding around her, emerging from all sides of the rink making her scream out in frustration.

„Stop doing that! It freaks me out!“ He laughed wholeheartedly in response while her knees bent a little to prevent a face plant on the ice beneath her feet. Without a warning, Grayson had his hands around her waist, pulling her up with him.

„Let me do all the work.“ He whispered in her ear, bringing goosebumps to her entire body. She still let him lead the way. He held onto her tightly while he skated circles around the rink with her in tow.

Y/N could hear the faint thumping of her own heartbeat pulsing inside her chest, fear melting away and adrenaline taking place. It felt like she was flying, free as a bird, safe as long as his arms were around her. There was no Chuck, no fear, nothing but Grayson's warmth surrounding her. She knew those days were behind her. It was one of those moments that engrave themselves in the brain, forever staying in your memory, something to replay if dark clouds ever roll in again.

„This is so much better than last time!“ She giggled, stumbling into Grayson's wide open arms. Snuggling closer to him, nuzzling her head into his chest, she huffs in discontent.

„What's wrong Munch?“ Grayson asks with amusement evident in his voice. He knew exactly what's wrong.

„Stupid clothes.“ Y/N mumbled into his coat, moving her arms around him instead of keeping her hands on his chest like usual.

„Rest assured my heart is still very much beating like crazy when you hug me so close to your body.“ Grayson whispers confidently, watching her lift her head, straining to look up and face him.

„How did you even know that's the problem?“ She knitted her eyebrows together, her hand going for his chin to trace his scar.

It's silly, but she always like that scar on his chin, thinking it gave his perfect face a proper balance of imperfections that kept him human. However, her favorite scar was the one between his eyebrows. Whenever she traced the lines of his face, she kept her fingertip on the horizontal, faded white line a little longer than anywhere else on his face.

But his eyes?

His eyes are a brilliant hazel that keep her on her toes. Every morning she wakes, she wonders if his eyes would be brown or hazel that day, sometimes even making small bets in her mind about it. Those eyes held everything: love she craved, light that she followed in her darkest hour, mischief she enjoyed in every possible way, lust that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and safety that brought warmth he always provided.

Grayson had always been her safe harbor to rest her heavy heart in and she was eternally grateful for having him in her life.

„Remember what you told me when we met?“ Grayson asks, a cheeky smile appearing on his lips and that mischievous glint in his eyes came with it.

„Ummm....Those jeans are beautiful.“ She cringed with the memory, remembering that wasn't at all what she actually meant.

„Did you actually mean my genes as in genetic instead of my jeans?“ Grayson asks, waiting for an answer he knew was on point but was never discussed before.

„I actually meant your genes as in those chromosomes combined perfectly.“ Y/N licked her lips, sneaking her arms around Grayson's neck all the while staring at his lips.

„It drove me and Ethan crazy. Because you said jeans and I was wearing shorts. We spent a week figuring it out.“ Grayson leans in, kissing her forehead gently with a steady smile on his face.

„I blurted that out without thinking. You know I’m awkward around new people! No filter at all. I was so embarrassed.“ Y/N admits, feeling heat rush to her cheeks despite the freezing cold.

„I love you. Filter or not filter.“ And Y/N almost cried with his confession. She longed to hear those words for far too long now.

„And I love you too.“ Without a second to spare, their lips connected once more, ignoring the cold and the crowd around them.

In that embrace, those lost souls were finally home again.

A/N: There is no shame in asking for help and there is no weakness in admitting there’s a problem. If you are in an abusive relationship, get help: from police, family, friends, support groups and organizations meant to deal with abusive relationships. If a man/girl hits you, he/she will do it again. There’s no going back from that. Things will not get better unless you make them better. You deserve to feel safe and happy. Never let someone compromise that.

Tags: @accalialionheart @xalayx

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Healthy Pendragon Sibling Headcanons

* Morgana is the oldest, then Arthur, and then Morgause. Arthur is the tallest, though

* Their backgrounds are very confusing. Arthur and Morgana have the same dad but Morgana and Morgause have the same mom. Morgana alternated between who she lived with for awhile before mainly sticking with Uther, who had custody of Arthur. Morgause was given to her “father” by Vivian, but moved in with her siblings when she was a teenager.

* Morgana is a lesbian, Arthur is bi, and Morgause is ace/aro

* Morgause has a love for theatre and if she gets in a show, her siblings screams every time she comes out

* They sneak out a lot

* Literally broke into their school to swim in the pool

* They’ve reenacted Lord of the Flies in the middle of the night before because why the hell not

* These kids get super competitive in any co-op game they play

* They secretly buy each other pride flags, hang them up in their room, and see how long it takes to get noticed

* They’re so close hhh

* Morgause can only handle physical contact from them

* Sometimes one of them will yell “HALL MEETING!!!” and then they have a meeting in the hallway

* Morgana is the best at comfort

* Arthur and Morgause are not

* Morgause is terrible at verbally comforting someone. If a person is hurt, usually she’ll just hug them from behind, rest her head on their back, and wait until they calm down or stop crying

* Arthur just gets protective and is ready to fight

* Morgana will literally use her sibling’s middle names when she’s worried about them

* Oh yeah, middle names! Morgana Elizabeth Pendragon, Arthur William Pendragon, Morgause Autumn Pendragon

* They’ve learned all of each other’s triggers to avoid making each other uncomfortable

* Morgana is super gentle

* Arthur took his sisters clubbing before but they mainly just sat at a booth the whole time playing on their phones

* During this one Thanksgiving, they played kickball against other family members and Morgause ran into a windmill

* They are a very competitive team

* Morgause loves animals and wants to take home every stray she sees. Arthur is so set on this idea

* They compulsively bought a baby goat before

* Gwaine is determined that they wear some kind of matching costumes during Halloween. They end up going as Link (Arthur), Zelda (Morgana), and Sheik (Morgause)

* As a little bonus, Gwaine gets everyone in the gang to go as Legend of Zelda characters, even if they don’t play the game. He goes as the Skull Kid, Merlin goes as Wizzaro, Gwen goes as Twili Midna, Leon goes as Dark Link, Elyan goes as Komali, and Percival goes as Ganon

* “Where are my SIBLINGS!!!!!” -Morgana, 24/7

* Both Arthur and Morgana are super stubborn and when they argue it’s like someone is yelling at themselves in the mirror

* Morgana drives them everywhere because Morgause is too scared to, even though she has her license and Arthur driving makes her nervous

* Uther isn’t actually home that often because of business, so they take care of the house. Morgause is actually a really good cook. Arthur is not.

* Morgause has a tendency to go nonverbal for a short amount of time, usually after a panic attack or episode, but the other two are very patient with her

* Oh yeah she has some issues

* Morgause sometimes will play a certain song over and over again to relax herself and her siblings have just gotten used to it

* They play The Floor Is Lava a lot and sometimes they’ll just sit on the coffee table for an hour until someone backs out

* When getting groceries, Arthur is fully set on taking all the bags in at once which causes Morgana to scream “ARTHUR THE EGGS”

* They do this thing where they’ll just...see this place and they’ll be like “yup that’s where I’m going to spend my day”

* For example, Morgana walking into the kitchen to get a drink and sees Morgause on top of the fridge reading and she doesn’t question it at all

* Arthur, throwing a water bottle at his sister’s heads: YOU NEED TO STAY HYDRATED CHILDREN

* But that quickly turns into little reminders for each other: “Have you eaten today?” “Did you drink any water?” “Do you need anything?” “Wanna talk?” “Have you slept at all recently?”

* Morgana once finished a project for Morgause because she was exhausted and the topic was touchy. Morgana found her at her laptop, tears streaming down her face, gritting her teeth and struggling to type with her hands shaking so badly. That’s when she stepped in

* Morgause is allergic to hazelnuts and has always wanted to try one. One day, she hands Morgana an EpiPen and makes Arthur dial 911 and then shoves, like, twelve hazelnuts in her mouth

* It’s become an ongoing joke to call Morgause a ferret because she looks like one

* Gaius, about Morgause: I don’t think we’ve met.

Arthur: Oh sorry this is our pet ferret

* Morgause once fell out of a tree she was climbing and came down so hard branches snapped under her. She had to sleep on her stomach for two weeks because of how badly her back was bruised

* Morgause: Do you think Arthur and Morgana actually want me around? What if I’m just a nuisance at this point? What if I’m intruding?

Merlin, visibly annoyed: Morgause, this is the seventeenth time you’ve asked that. I don’t know.

Morgause, walking away: Okay, I’ll come ask again in a few minutes

* Morgana showed Arthur and Morgause Life is Strange to make them cry but she ended up sobbing, too

* In return, Morgause shows her Little Nightmares

* Morgana, when Six eats a rat: what the fU-

* They’ve played co-op on Shadow of the Tomb Raider together and Arthur ends up glitching through the floor and gets stuck. The girls laughs so hard they wheeze

* They went to see Tomb Raider (2018) together and they thought it was amazing

* Morgana: Tomb Raider was good. I liked when Lara killed the men

* She definitely has a crush on Lara Croft

* Morgause stress chews and when there’s nothing around for her to gnaw on, she bites the skin off her knuckles

* Morgana, noticing that Morgause is grinding her teeth against her bottom lip: GET THAT LIP OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOUNG LADY

* They rarely ever fight, but you know it’s bad when they do.

* Morgause starts carrying gum around with her everywhere (mainly because of her chewing problem) and Arthur asks for some all the time. She once just threw an entire packet at his head before. He thanked her

* Morgause spends New Years in the basement. The fireworks are too much for her and she has multiple panic attacks. Morgana goes down to comfort her and they watch the old Tomb Raider movies together

* Morgause gets really violent and unpredictable when she’s having an episode or bad panic attack. She bites, scratches, spits, punches, kicks- anything to get away. She miscalculated a swing this one time, caught her fingernails on Morgana’s earring, and it tore out. Her sister had to get stitches for it. Arthur thought it was kinda cool

* Arthur accidentally poured a can of soda into a bowl of macaroni and cheese while his sisters watched without attempting to stop him

* Morgana walked into the kitchen and found a block of cheese in the utensils drawer, which somebody had decided was a knife when they were putting away groceries. Then she tried to look for cream cheese and could not find it for the life of her. It still hasn’t been found

* Morgause wears glasses

* But this one time she fell asleep with contacts on and woke up thinking she got her proper sight back

* Morgause: *glasses fall off and fall into the deep end of a pool*

Arthur: I gotchu fam

* If one of them has a date the other two like to spy on what’s going on

* Morgause attempted to cut her hair with a knife and it did not end well

If anyone has anymore, they can add onto this! I’d love to see more headcanons with these kids!

[cookiecutterwrites]

Dog Days and Then Some

Summary: A boy and his slightly unsettling Rottweiler do everything together.

Genre: Contemporary YA

Notes: I’ll be posting some of my short pieces over the next few days, just so they’re anywhere at all. Luckily for you, much of my stuff is short and easy to read! Much like me irl no wait - My style varies wildly so if you don’t like this particular story, please do give my other pieces a chance! Feedback is always welcome. No seriously, I need feedback and writing friends real bad.

Dog Days and Then Some

Do you ever wake up with a question running through your mind? Today, mine is, ‘Hey, what's that awful, bone-crushing weight?’

And what do you know, it’s a shaggy, nightmarish, black beast that's sat on my chest! It growls and breathes in my face, rancid and hot.

I could panic, but I've done this song and dance before.

… Who am I kidding?

I’ve got plenty more questions where that came from.

What is that thing? Is it gonna tear me to pieces? Why can’t I move? Will I live to see high school?

So many questions, so few answers.

I want to thrash and scream, but I can’t.

This lasts for a good couple of eons, but the second I feel my limbs again, I prop myself up and wrestle the Rottweiler off my chest. I glare at him and groan. “Escher, you gotta stop scaring me like that.”

He barks once. He seems satisfied with his work. He makes one smug pooch.

Escher has this wonderful habit of showing up unannounced. Sometimes I seriously doubt he ever really leaves to begin with. Whenever he reared his ugly mutt mug, I armed myself with all sorts of self-assuring nonsense: ‘Escher’s not gonna be around for that long this time,’ and ‘Uncle Grady has a black dog, grandma had one too. I’ll be fine!’

But I could never shake the feeling that he was seconds away from pouncing on me, sinking his grubby paws into my neck, and rasping,  — just a shadow of a whisper —, “Do you hear that in the distance? It’s your comeuppance.”

Weird, huh?

But I shouldn't get ahead of myself. Dogs can't talk.

Oh, what's that, boy? You wanna go out, Escher? Yeah, like I'm gonna let that happen.

I lock up the front door. Let's see him try — He’s taking the doggy flap.

Right.

See what I have to deal with? He sucks the wonder out of things in his own special way. He just adores eating at me and my stuff.

If it’s any consolation, at least he’s consistent. Added bonus: He’s impossible to train, trust me, I've tried. Nowadays, when people ask, I just say, ‘This is how I take care of Escher.’

A pitter-patter of claws follows close on my tail all the way to the stairwell. He pants while I hold my breath and wring my hands, but he’s impossible to ignore. He's driving me up the wall!

But what can I say? We’re inseparable.

I shuffle down one flight of steps, then another.

And then another.

Wait, that's weird, it's quiet. Real quiet.

Where'd he go? I twist around — There’s not a black dog in sight.

…Did he go home? Could he really be gone?! I have a couple of questions, but I’m also grinning like a lunatic.

…Maybe he just got off at another floor. He’s smart enough for that, for sure. I cup my hands around my mouth, “ESCHER!” Who loses a Rottweiler? Not even I could mess up that badly! …Right?

I carry on down, but that's the exact moment Escher decides to materialize on the steps behind me, barking mad and barking loud. I yelp and slide down a few steps, grabbing the bannister in the nick of time. I sigh. “Escher…You’re killin’ me here.”

He bites my ankle! — And not one of those dinky lil’ puppy nibbles, no, he goes the whole nine yards. Unsurprisingly, I cry out and jump about nine yards.

I crash-land and immediately scuttle away. I can brush off the bruises later, but first, I have to put some distance between us, lest he actually get a shot at killing me.

He whimpers once, then pads over like a good boy, all prim and proper. I spit, “What’s wrong with you?”

He licks my hands, then gnaws at my shoe. I sigh and pet him sluggishly.

I've lost.

Now, I’ll be honest, I know Escher. He’s my dog, for crying out loud! I know he’s a very special dog: he’s happy as long as I’m miserable, which I know sounds ridiculous, but he really is a good boy! He helps me steer clear of all the little things that could go wrong, he makes sure I don't say the wrong thing, or find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if that meant stopping me from getting out of bed or leaving the flat, so be it. He watches over me and makes sure I don’t make the same mistakes I’ve been making all my life. He takes care of me more than I could ever take care of him. It was never the other way around.

I’m jerked out of my pity party by the sound of someone entering the stairwell. The missus living next door? She was never one for formalities: “What are you doing out here? You look…” Pathetic? Like I’ve made a terrible mistake? Come on, at least, like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“...Like a million bucks?” I brandish finger guns. I regret it immediately.

“...Tired.” She wasn’t far off the mark. “Are you alright?” She should have spotted Escher strutting around like he owned the place but people seem to get a kick out of pretending my dog doesn’t exist.

“Dog ate my homework.” This was not a lie.

And by some twist of fate, I wound up in her dingy family diner. When my father finally catches up to me, I’m treated to a big show of him barking into a phone at school administration — third absence this week. How about that?

It's the same as it’s always been, Escher’s back, but nothing’s actually changed. Today marks the last in a long line of flubs, and tomorrow, I’ll still be a disappointment all the same. Escher knows this better than anyone else. Escher knows best. “But you know,” I begin, “this morning was all you.”

He pounces without warning and barks in my face! It’s deafening, it’s unbearable. I push him down, yelling, “Down! DOWN! Bad boy!” And is it just me, or does he keep getting heavier?

My father shoots me a weird, mechanical half-glance. It’s as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge Escher’s here, but he also wants to know what’s running through my mind.

And about that: not much at all, really. It’s just that there’s only so much mucking around, poking fun at stuff and shrugging off you can do before you can no longer ignore the howling, ever-present, torrent that coaxes you to curl up in a dark place and slowly tear the skin from your face. But until then, if you kept up a jokey attitude, or were cheery, or generally weirded everyone out, there’s a chance that they wouldn’t worry so much. They’d think you were perfectly sound. And if they could be convinced, maybe you could convince yourself too.

You know that self-assuring nonsense I love so much? At the end of the day, it’s still nonsense. It’s only a matter of time before the black dog paws are your shins and pleads, “Lend me your time, your name, your life. I’ll take good care of it, I promise.” That’s what happened to grandma. She gave in.

And even if Escher never pushes me to the edge of that razor, things won’t ever go back to the way they were before. Even if by some miracle and he suddenly started obeying my commands, things will never be normal — I will never be normal! I will always have Escher! And that’s not okay.

I jump up seething, ready to blame every last offense on Escher and demand someone sort him out.

I’m interrupted by a tapping on my shoulder.

I whip around and, well, this stranger’s small. Around my age. She’s tugging off her hat. I don’t know what I was expecting but it definitely wasn’t the small, curled up blackbird asleep in her hair. She jeers, “Oh, don't be so dramatic! Most people have pets at one point or another. Some people have more than one. Some of us just can’t figure out how to leave them at home even though everywhere is still basically ‘No Pets Allowed’.”

Who did she think she was?! “Yeah, but most people don’t have a Rottweiler.”

She shakes her head vigorously, nearly sending her bird flying, “That’s not my point.”

“Then what is?”

“That you’re not alone in this?”

And I’m taken aback, I want her to know that she's got it all wrong. But for a moment, a weight was lifted. The fight drains right out of me. Whatever it is she's going for, it works.

I nudge Escher away from her. She’s right, I’m not alone, so it couldn’t possibly hurt, could it? To not deal with the black dog right this moment?

[gripefroot]

The Heart is a Muscle

Bucky stomps onto the Quinjet, unbuckling the vest around his chest to throw into a locker - it bounces off the metal grating and falls to the floor. He ignores it. Stomping up to the pilot’s deck, his jaw clenches as he notices Steve and Clint looking pointedly away from him as they strap on their seat belts. Bucky’s face is red hot and tingling, and he slumps into a seat with a suppressed growl rumbling in his chest. 

“Er, let’s head home,” Steve says awkwardly.  

“Yeah, home. Home sounds great.” Clint fumbles with some buttons. Their voices quiet as they communicate amongst themselves to get the jet off the ground. Gangway raised, engines turned on.  

Bucky simmers.  

The door from the main cabin slides open with a near-silent whoosh. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, but he doesn’t look back.  

“Sergeant,” comes your icy voice.  

“Agent,” he retorts. 

“Could I have a moment of your time?” 

Bucky bites his tongue. He can see Steve’s head tilt in front of him, waiting for the response even though it’s not meant for him. Bucky doesn’t really have a choice now. He knows it. You know it.  

Lazily he stands. “Of course,” Bucky drawls, keeping his chin up as he dares to meet your eyes. Your expression glitters darkly. You haven’t removed your gear; with arms crossed in front of your chest, you only regard him coolly for a moment before turning on your heel to leave. Bucky follows doggedly behind, and the door whooshes shut again behind him. 

Is it soundproof? He kind of hopes so.  

You don’t stop until you’re at the back of the jet. Without warning you spin around, the full force of your emotion nearly stopping Bucky in his tracks.  

“What was that?” you demand, eyes spitting sparks. 

He glares right back. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t play stupid, Barnes. It’s not your style.” Your voice snaps at him, drags up his rage to the battlefield.  

“You wanna know what that was?” Bucky asks roughly, staring you down as he takes a menacing step forwards. You don’t move an inch, glower deepening. “That was saving the mission.” 

“That was disobeying Fury’s orders.” 

“That was saving your life!” 

You give a disbelieving snort. “Don’t exaggerate. We would have still gotten out just fine - ” 

“Missing limbs? Shot through? Dead?” 

“ - just fine.” Your brows are pinched together in a scowling frown. “We’ve gotten out of tougher situations, Barnes. Steve, Clint, even me - you came today as backup. Not as an instigator. And now SHIELD has to deal with your fallout - ” 

“Should I regret what I did?” Bucky cuts in, the metal plates of his hand grating shrilly as he balls his fingers. “Because I don’t. Even if you wish I hadn’t, even if you’d rather be taken home on a stretcher than standing up just fine, as you clearly are, thanks to me - ” 

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. It was under control.” 

Bucky scoffs. “You were being held at gunpoint.” 

“Like I’ve never been there before!” Voice raising dangerously, you throw your hands angrily in the air, the sudden action startling Bucky. “I was perfectly capable of saving my own backside before you ever came along. Just because we’re - we - it doesn’t mean you always have to step in! Bucky, this is my job; I know what I’m doing, and I accept any consequences - ” 

“You think I did what I did for you?” Bucky stares for a moment, and then starts to laugh maniacally. Angrily you snap your lips shut, glaring full force. “Like I would,” he bites back suddenly. “Yeah, sorry I saved your life. Sorry I saw the situation going downhill and stepped in. I obviously forgot that pride is worth dying for. At least for you.” 

“Give me a break,” you snap.  

“You want a break? I can give you a break.” 

You blink up at him, evidently stunned into silence, and Bucky immediately regrets his words. The anger is fading from your expression, into something even more horrifying - horrifyingly desolate - and with a grunt he runs his fingers through his grimy hair.  

“I’m sorry, okay?” he grumbles. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

The jet cabin is so quiet that he could hear Steve and Clint’s murmurs to each other on the flight deck. Then you blink again, and a shaky sigh leaves your lips.  

“I’m not ungrateful, Bucky. I just…” you gnaw on your lip a moment, shifting your weight on your feet, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just...hard.” 

“Hard,” Bucky repeats.  

“Sometimes...the lines between personal and professional get blurred.” 

“Like when we made out in that Hydra base?” 

A trembling laugh. “Yeah. Like that.” 

Bucky’s lips twitch, wanting to smile. “So, professionally you’re ok with what I did, but personally I offended you?” 

Your teeth are gnawing into your bottom lip. “Um - sure.” 

“Right.” 

“You know, I worked alone for a long time,” you say, voice quiet now. “Having a team is new to me. Having you. Maybe I don’t need a team or you...but I want you. I do, Bucky. I sleep better knowing you have my back. In every way. And I didn’t mean to get angry, I just…” your voice trails off. “I…” 

“It’s okay,” Bucky interrupts, and tentatively he reaches out to clasp your hands, hanging at your sides, in his. Immediately a little smile lifts your lips. The scarce distance between your bodies is no longer threatening; but consoling. He lets loose a deep breath. “We all have our bad days, babe. I know I’m still the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, even when you’re angry.” 

You blink, and then give a startled laugh. “Don’t test me,” you tease.  

“I don’t have to test what I already know,” he snarks back, and grins at your eye roll. “Do you think Steve and Clint heard us?” Bucky adds, wondering. 

“Um - Steve, probably. Clint takes his hearing aids out when he’s uncomfortable.”

Bucky chortles. “True. He’s very lucky that way.” 

“Do you…” you start to say, and then pause. Your eyes are shining as you quirk a brow up at Bucky. “Do you think they still think we’re fighting?” 

He quirks a brow. “...Should they?” 

“I’ll be reporting this to your superiors!” you half-shout, startling Bucky slightly. But the little smile on your lips proves you don’t mean it. Curiously he watches the expression on your face as you wink.  

“Well maybe I’ll report you,” he says loudly back, aware of your fingers curling around his wrist. You start to tug him back towards the rear of the jet.  

“Fury trusts me a lot more than you!” you call, and then whisper for his benefit, “But not by much.” 

Holding back a laugh, Bucky retorts at full volume as you barge backwards through the nearest bathroom door, “That’s gonna be his downfall!”  

The door shuts, and in a breathless whisper he adds, “Not really. Fury’s lucky to have you.” 

“I’m glad you think that,” you murmur, reaching around him to lock the door.

“I’m lucky to have you, too.” 

You wince. “After I just railed at you?”

“I know you only did it because you love me.” 

Laughing, you wind your arms around Bucky’s neck, and he doesn’t waste time unbuckling the back of your tac vest. The bathroom is only about three feet long and two feet wide; his back is pressed into the door as his elbows knock against the opposite wall. But it’s only the shining light in your eyes he sees; drowning in the depths before he lowers his head to kiss you - devouring for all he’s worth as you kiss him just as fiercely in return; you bite his lip, teeth clatter together. It’s all desperation. Arousal rips through his veins faster than anger ever had.  

The vest falls to the floor, but there’s no time to go much further. Urgently Bucky wrenches open the buckle on your pants, unzipping them to tip his fingers inside. A rough moan rips from your throat, which he swallows as he tastes your mouth with his eager tongue.  

“Bucky,” you whine, tugging at his hair as he lowers his head to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.  

“We’ve done it in worse places,” he reminds you.  

“Oh, I don’t care - why are your pants still on?” 

“Because you haven’t taken them off yet, babe.” 

“Oops.”  

Your hands stray down to his chest, and Bucky starts as you push him back against the wall, a wild smile on your face. Keeping your gaze on him, you pull off his belt and push down his trousers as he swallows thickly.  

“I get a little scared when you look at me like that,” he says hoarsely. 

“Oh, please,” you coo. “When has it ever turned out badly for you?” 

“...Good point.” 

You tilt your chin upwards, eyes hooded as Bucky wets his lips. His throat is dry. “Aren’t you gonna make love to me?” you whisper, a trace of taunting coloring your words.  

“You haven’t said please,” Bucky tries to tease back, even though his throat is tight.  

“Please, Bucky. I need it. I need you.” 

“You need me?”

“I want you.” 

His lips twist in a crooked grin as he traces the curve of your cheek with his flesh thumb. “That can be arranged.” 

“Then arrange it.” 

Bucky isn’t one to say no. Especially to you. His hands roam south, until his fingers are digging into your hips. Abruptly he spins you around, and you catch yourself on the edge of the sink as he bends over your arched back, nibbling on your ear as he listens to the soft whimper from your lips.  

“Get on with it,” you breathe, and with a groan he pushes down your pants and aligns his hips to yours. Lacing his metal fingers over yours on the sink, Bucky takes a steadying breath before thrusting in.  

The moan that rips from you echoes in the tiny bathroom.  

“Shh.” Bucky nuzzles into your neck, his breathing labored as he keeps control of himself.. “As much as I know you want to let everyone know how good I am, you gotta keep quiet. Stark will have our hides if he finds out we’ve been dirtying his equipment.” 

Your husky laugh is, thankfully, quiet. After that, the only sounds are ragged breathing, and the vibrations of louder moans stay in your throat. Bucky’s fingers squeeze over yours, his opposite hand digging into your waist as you quiver around him.  

Suddenly, footsteps. Bucky’s head snaps up as you give a shuddering gasp. Damn, he was right there with you - and right on queue, he feels your pulsating climax around him, and he stutters awkwardly, finishing straight behind.  

Shoot. They’re coming closer. Instinctively he clamps a hand over your mouth, cutting off the sound of your frenetic breathing. Bucky holds his breath.  

The door to the other bathroom is opened. And closed.  

Lowering his head to your ear, Bucky whispers, “That was Clint.” 

“Good,” you murmur between his fingers. “If it was Steve - ” 

“We’d be caught,” he finishes. A tense, horrifying moment - and then you start to giggle, and unable to stop himself, Bucky joins in. Very quietly. And because he can’t really resist, and he doesn’t want to - he trails the tip of his nose against the back of your neck up to your hairline, kissing your skin softly.  

“I’m sorry,” you say mournfully after a moment. “I really am.” 

“For?” 

“Being angry at you before.” 

“It’s okay. I was mad too.” 

“Do you think…do you think it’s worse? Because we’re hiding this?” 

The softly spoken question gives Bucky pause. Awkwardly he pulls out, keeping hold of your hand as you straighten stiffly. Clean up is efficiently done, and as he’s belting his pants again, he frowns a little at the contemplative expression on your face.  

“No,” he says firmly. “I think...I think that if we weren’t hiding it, we’d have a whole slew of new problems.” 

You giggle quietly. “That’s probably true.” Bending over to pick up your discarded tac vest, you glance up at Bucky with your eyes sparkling. The sight makes his heart stutter a little, and he grins as he wraps an arm around your waist for a final, lingering kiss.  

“I love you,” you whisper. 

“I love you too. Shall we go and tell Steve we worked things out?” 

“Maybe leave out the sex bit, but yeah.” 

With a final study of your smile, burning it in his memory, Bucky slowly unlocks the door to peek his head out. The opposite bathroom is engaged, and silent. He tiptoes out, leading you by the hand. And then he remembers, and drops it.  

So maybe telling everyone would have some advantages.