#and then youre going to applaud him for getting the lost positions back???

[ferrari-to-burnout-pipeline]

the day i meet someone who votes for perez for dotd is the day you guys pls call a lawyer for me because i will be arrested for manslaughter

[altbite]

Enemies To Friends *Konig Headcanon*

I think i have a problem. Anyway Konig x GN!Reader - Enemies to Friends to Maybe Lovers. Kinda Long. Sorry not sorry.

__

It starts out simple. Konig was the new guy, and although you don’t have beef with recruits, he had skipped his way into being the lead on a mission. A mission you have been trying Price to make you lead of for weeks.

You worked your ass of to impress Price and show him you are more than capable. So when he announced Konig would be the lead, you were pissed.

You weren’t even pissed at Price, even though it was his doing. You redirected your anger to Konig.

The boys (Gaz, Soap and Ghost) all saw you get ticked off by this because they also knew you were aiming for that role.

Price waited for you to come talk to him, even yell at him gently, because of his decision. But you never did. You accepted his decision but you sure as hell weren’t going to be buddies with Konig.

But it gets better. You were assigned to that mission as Konig’s second in command. 

Konig had attempted to talk to you afterwards, but you blew him off. You walked away and he didn’t understand why. This happened a few times.

You were sitting by yourself, playing around with your combat knife whilst sharpening it, and Konig walked up, you immediately told him to fuck off. 

He had also had enough, finally raising his voice and asking what your problem was.

Continuing to sharpen your knife and not making eye contact, you told him he was the problem

“Elaborate, please”.

You licked your lips, ready to chew him out, looked at him for a moment without replying.

“You are the problem. Not that hard to understand”

“Whatever problem you have with me can’t be happening on the mission”

You stoop up with speed, pointing the knife at him. “Exactly! You stole MY position, the one I worked for. Not you. No. You came in and stole it without thinking, and sure maybe it wasn’t your decision but if it weren’t for YOU, there would be no problem”.

Konig just stood, and stared. Whether he was speechless or processing what you said, you left the room.

The tension was high between you two, to the point it made everyone in the room uncomfortable and you refused to acknowledge his existence.

The time of the mission came around, and although you weren’t going to be besties with Konig during it, you couldn’t exactly ignore him. Despite circumstances, you would have his back on the field (or at least some of it).

During the mission, you had encountered enemies and guns went ablaze. You could see Konig was dealing with a lot more enemies than you and although you could've backed him up, you knew he could take care of himself.

Plus the other recruits were helping so you focused on your part.

Konig did end up getting shot in the arm, a scratch for a man his size you thought but you killed the last guy standing for him. He side eyed you, with murderous intent. 

The mission ended up being a success and made it to exfil. On the route back, you avoided Konig and stayed with some of the other recruits.

Once you reached base, Price applauded the success. Neither you nor Konig mentioned anything that happened on field, it wouldn't benefit anyone.

He cornered you when you were alone, snapping at you. “What the fuck was that earlier?!”

“What? Nothing happened”

“Nothi- Nothing happened? You were supposed to watch my back. I could've died”.

“But you didn’t. So quit fucking complaining like a bitch”.

Soap walked in looking like a lost puppy before any other words were exchanged. Konig stormed off and you went to bed.

This continued for a few months. Eventually though, you two just ignored each other. No more side eyeing, snarky comments or full on arguments.

Price had lectured you both multiple times about being more friendly, or at least tolerating each other, which was the prompt that stopped the constant yelling. Price accepted it as he was also fed up.

When it came to missions, Price stopped pairing you two together, but on occasions when it did happen, you both dealt with it. 

When you two were alone in a room, even for a second or two, you did mumble insults at him and he at you.

It was always a mix of “Fuck you”, “Prick”, etc.

When he was speaking to anyone, you’d listen in without looking. Curiosity still got the best of you and you could use some blackmail on him. 

As you watched him become friends with the boys, avoiding him was harder. He would hang around them when you weren’t there, and multiple times have you been to awkward to walk into that conversation.

Konig did the same thing though when you were with them.

When he finally did butt into a conversation (usually for good reasons like mention briefings or something Price wanted passed on), you stared at him and dropped snarky comments where you could. He would ignore you and continue talking before leaving.

There wasn’t really a day when you two stopped hating each other. It naturally crumbled away as you interacted more, mostly because of other people.

Ghost has brought it up to you and you ignored him, thinking he was bluffing. But he was right. You did start acknowledging him. You still hated him for the stunt he pulled and it was enough for you to dislike him.

The moment it really took a turn was on the way to a mission. You were talking to Gaz and some other soldiers, while Konig was talking to a different group, and whatever he said, you turned your attention to them and gave Konig a sarcastic comment. 

He rolled his eyes at you while the others chuckled and you got smug about it. 

It continued to happen and both of you were sassing each other. It was worse during missions when you talked through comms. 

While everyone enjoyed the bickering, Price had wished you two go back to not speaking (he was secretly proud you two were bonding though, somewhat)

Soon the sarcasm and comments turned into praise for a good job, followed up by commenting some wack shit like “Good job for not dying, but I definitely could’ve done that better than you, AND taken less time. Dumbass” or “You’re welcome for saving your ass. Can’t you have dying on me yet”

Soon you two did become friends, and everyone was relieved. They were all rooting for this friendship for ages because the tension and awkwardness could be left behind.

You found things to bond over, and sometimes it involved making fun of Soap and Ghost. 

Soap when you annoy/make fun of him: TnT

Ghost: -_- >_>

Konig had apologized to you about the stealing your mission, and even though you accepted his apology, you also apologized for taking your anger out on him.

With the issues now in the past, you two became unstoppable on field. Okay maybe not unstoppable but definitely great together. Outside of field, you two were a menace to society.

Maybe Lovers??

Ghost has caught you multiple times staring at Konig with “puppy in love eyes”. You brushed it off. But it stuck at the back of your mind.

When you watched and listened to Konig ramble about something, you would stare with awe, your face softened and a smile on your face and once you catch yourself doing it, you stop immediately.

Konig did the same thing, but his was harder to detect.

He did little things for you, like make you coffee or give you biscuits. It was his way to appreciate you without letting you know. 

Mans knew he was catching feelings for you and it scared him. He was scared because he thought things would go back to the way it used to be: hatred. He didn't want to risk it so he did his best to hide away from it.

Was it eating him alive? Yes. 

He would go to bed thinking about the day, thinking about all the conversations he had with out, and wondering if he might’ve slipped up somewhere. His thoughts of you would keep him awake at night sometimes. It drove him crazy.

Now on a usual basis, you were a “no thoughts, head empty” person. When you did start thinking about Konig and realizing you might like him, you blocked it out by listening to music. Music drowned out thoughts for you. 

Until a song you could relate to Konig would come on. Then you groaned. People around base have seen you actively do this.

When you thought about your growing feelings for the man, you were more worried than scared. Despite being on good terms now, you would overthink and sometimes believe that deep down, Konig still hated you. You gave him hell for months, so why would he let it go?

Bonus

Ghost and Price have tea together and talked about you and Konig and how you are both oblivious to each other.

The following scene has happened many times:

You and Konig are subtly flirting. Price and Ghost are by the counter in the kitchen watching this interaction. The give each other the side glance of “You seeing this shit Ghost” and “They are doing it again Captain” and sip their tea.

[soursvgar]

What makes them jealous?

demon brothers (minus luci and beel) x gender neutral reader warnings: slight angst, mentions of ch. 16, mentions of violence

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Mammon ━ you praising someone else

Mammon has an aptitude to get himself into sticky situations, which graced him with quite the reputation. Virtually, Mammon is a good one, but has a hard time bringing his image to line with his actual personality. When he fell for you, he made it his life's mission to show you the real him, the one that is caring, generous and loving. Mammon wants you to perceive him as the perfect man, one that can provide for your every need, and fulfil your every whim. Hence, hearing you complimenting and praising anyone other than him is unacceptable, he can be whatever you need him to be, just don't go to someone else.

"I've decided I'm not speaking with ya, human." Mammon settles on your bed, arms linked together as he glowers at you. "Your silence sure is rumbling. What is it this time?" You tease, already used to his dramatic responses. "It ain't funny! Yesterday you commented on Lucifer's self discipline, then it was Beel's determination to stay active, where do I fit into all this, hm? What is it with ya?"

At first you laugh, but he retains his scowl, persistent in his theatrics. You decide to sit by his side, taking his hand into yours before you rest your intertwined fingers on your lap. "I applaud their admirable behaviors because I believe it's good to celebrate positive things others do, but it doesn't take away from your good virtues. There are things that no one else does as well as you." Mammon looks up at you as if desperately seeking your affirmations. "T-There are? I mean- of course there are, no one compares to The Great Mammon! But a-ahem, like what?"

"Oh, so that means you're talking to me again?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Leviathan ━ you hyping up a favorite character/idol

It may come off a little silly, but being a shut in has Levi holding different people to different standards. Deeming himself a worthless good for nothing, his jealousy manifest in the people you adore, since he so badly wants to be one of them. However, the only beings he associates with you are in his immediate surroundings, his brothers for example, which are equal to him in power and status. Therefore, when you come into his room gushing about your favorite idol or character, that he already holds to higher standards due to the god-like class he administers to his own, he can't halt the rush of envy through his body. Why can't he be them?

"What is this doing here?" Leviathan holds a crumped piece of paper, inspecting it. You had requested his aid with moving furniture in your room in order for you to clean behind them, not realizing you brought some of your merch back from the human world with you. "Oh, I was wondering where that disappeared to... it's my favorite member from a human world band I'm a fan of." Beaming at the long lost item, you take the poster back and begin straightening the edges while you tell Leviathan all about your idol. Leviathan doesn't respond, instead, he watches you with a displeased expression, looking almost offended.

"By any chance, are you... jealous?" Puzzled, you seek for his confirmation, having actually thought that out of all brothers, Leviathan would be the most accepting of your interests. He's quick to shoot you down, mumbling bitterly about how he was certain that things like these were his area of expertise and it simply took him by surprise. You knew better, though; the nervous flinching of his fingertips accompanying his overly impudent attitude attested of his attempt to control his envy from getting out of hand. You almost visibly coo at his efforts to contain himself, smiling to yourself.

"But you know you're always my number one, right?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Satan ━ you (or anyone) outsmarting him

'Knowledge is power', is key to understanding Satan's values and way of thinking. Feeling slightly inferior within his own family, he uses his wits to grant himself an advantage over the others as he believes that being the smartest person in the room puts him on a higher pedestal, and worthy of more respect. Satan has to be the smartest, and no one usually puts enough effort to rise above him. So when you come around and prove the limits of his brain to him, you send him into a state of confusion, unravelling his self deprecating side rather than a vengeful beast of wrath.

"You were cheating, there's no way I've lost, I haven't lost a game of othello for over a hundred and fifty years." Satan rambles, spectating the board that sent a clear message of victory on your part. "For the nth time, I didn't cheat. I won fair and square." You roll your eyes and brace yourself for a potential full blown argument. It was a recurring theme for Satan to rage and throw a tantrum over pretty mundane things, and while usually the two of you channelled the pent up energy towards a better usage of your time (interpret this however you like), this specific occasion felt very different. Satan did not sulk nor did he violently toss any inanimate objects in the room, instead, he was sitting quietly, eyes boring holes into the game board as if it might change the result.

"It's not possible, how did you beat me? I'm supposed to be the smart one, the one you go to whenever you need guidance or help. And now I can't even win a simple game against you?" Your face softens to the sound of his words.

"Well, I had a good teacher. You taught me everything I know."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Asmodeus ━ you being touchy with others

Asmo is a pretty suave demon, even without his special abilities he can use his looks and his slick tongue to charm any being. Knowing you're a natural yourself at making others sway, he's not too bothered with a flirty remark here and there or a double take. If anything, he finds it natural and even a little exciting when he observes you checking someone out or smooth talking your way into collecting a favor. But don't get too comfortable with his easy going nature, because your body is his temple, and you are his gorgeous treasure that others may look at, but under no circumstances, touch.

"Oh my, was that a flirty shoulder tap I just witnessed Mephistopheles giving you?" Asmodeus gasps, arms crossed. He tries to mask it as meaningless banter, but you can sense there's more beneath it and rush to correct him. "He was just thanking me for letting him copy my notes." You explain. He keeps his stance for a minute before letting his arms fall to his sides, sighing. "That's a no no, okay? Don't just let someone touch you like this, I bet he doesn't even use hand lotion..."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Belphegor ━ you not including him in your plans

No word of lie, this boy is a little bit obsessed with you. Under the rugged layers of sarcasm and chaff hides a gentle, insecure soul that simply just loves you too much for its own good. Belphie deals with his fair share of guilt when it comes to you, and he often walks on eggshells, too afraid to wake up from the euphoric dream that is your relationship. It's those reasons, along with his temper issues, that cloud his judgment whenever you're out of reach and lead his rushed conclusions to break his own heart.

"Did you forget about me?" You blink at the sound of the voice addressing you, only have entered the house of lamentation after an outing with Simeon and Luke. Belphegor was cross legged on the sofa, brows furrowed as he's glancing daggers at you. You slightly shiver, his familiar enraged expression doesn't exactly incite good memories. "I saw the photos on Simeon's devilgram, why didn't you tell me you were going out?"

"Belphie, y-you were sleeping, I didn't want to wake you up to ask you to join..." You mutter, shaken by the hostile situation that greeted your return. It's not that you were afraid of him, having him in a pact with you allowed you to take the reins at any given time, but it was never a pleasant reminder to see what your sweet cuddle buddy is capable of attempting once again. Fortunately, the change of pitch was enough to pull him out of his jealous state, recognizing something in your eyes he hoped to never witness again.

"I'm sorry... I'm overreacting. I just missed you, that's all."

[cowboylor]

meet cute

you need an emergency boyfriend and ross happens to fit the role.

warnings: language, creepy men? in uncomfortable situations?, implied alcohol consumption, fake dating blurb yay

wc: 1.5k

note: this was just for giggles but i'm gonna post it. cheers! :)

Your life mantra is not to wish ill will on anyone but—

“Bet you we could set up your crypto account tonight. Hell, even chicks like you need to get in on this.”

Fuck this guy. Absolutely fuck him.

You're trying to be positive; trying to look for any part of him that you think you can stomach. But you hate his hairstyle and the way the gel clings to it like a different entity. And you don't like his voice when he talks over you. Or the trickles of spit that spew out of his mouth when cutting you off.

Worst of all, the more time you spend listening and narrowing your eyes the more trapped you feel.

It wasn't exactly your friend's fault for finding someone exciting and she had to make a swift exit with them through the back door. In any other setting, you'd commend, even applaud her for getting laid but now—

Todd is here. Or Tim.

You're barely tipsy but can't recall his name for the life of you. But he doesn't seem to mind; talking your ear off about his bitcoin investments and how his independent company is finally taking off after years in practice.

You bring your glass to your lips, muttering sardonically, “Even chicks like me?”

He grins. “Certainly.”

Fighting off a snort, you set your drink on the bar top. You busy yourself with anything to avoid more small talk; checking the time on your phone, scrolling through old emails, and even jotting down a few miscellaneous items for your grocery list.

When have Friday nights become this cruel to you?

“Then, how ‘bout it?”

You perk up. “Sorry?”

He stands by your side with a toothy grin and an eyebrow raised that makes your stomach churn.

You avoid his eye again out of habit, laughing uncomfortably as he steps closer to you to press his shoulder to yours.

“Us taking this somewhere else.”

You blink.

The word 'no' threatens to spill out of your lips, along with 'eat shit' and 'not in this economy' but alas—you're silent and shifting your eyes uncomfortably again because you are not too sure any of those options would deter him anyway.

He barks a laugh and your face warms.

“I need to make a call.” You end up saying before quickly retreating to the other side of the bar.

He lets you go with a raised glass and smirk.

You wander over to the corner. You try calling your friend once before the voicemail comes and you're cursing lowly. Glancing up at the exit sign, you weigh your options quickly before looking back across the room.

You watch as Todd, or Tim, picks up his draped coat from the bar top and tops off his drink with one last swig.

Shit.

Your eyes skirt over rows of people. Past the obvious bachelorette party that you could realistically get lost in and get a shot of tequila out of it. Past the pretty bartender with a sleeve of tattoos, and past the middle-aged man who sports a green cardigan over his button-up.

The door of the bar opens and you're walking over before you can think twice.

“Babe!” You jeer loudly and then immediately close your mouth.

'Babe' is tall and looks kind, which is already enough to rival Tim (you're ninety percent sure it's Tim). He checks behind himself, craning his neck to see if anyone is behind him because you definitely couldn't be talking to him. He lets out a sound of surprise when you clash into him, wrapping your arms around his middle as you awkwardly embrace.

“Can I ask a favor?” You say in a hushed voice, peering up at him through your hug.

“Uh,” He opens and reopens his mouth before landing on a simple, “Sure?”

“Need you to be my fake boyfriend,” You say, resisting the urge to roll your shoulders in disgust at the way it sounds. You glance over to Tim. “Please?”

He follows your line of sight, before immediately wrapping an arm around you.

“Been looking for you!” You gush loudly.

“I'm here now,” He assures, letting you grip his shoulders like you're taken with him.

And partly, you are. With your face buried into the front of his coat, you can't help but notice how good he smells. Woodsy is the word you land on before he's tapping his index finger against your lower back until you whip around to face Tim's furrowed brow.

“Oh,” You breathe out.

You shift, detangling limbs from your fake boyfriend's body to lean into his side instead. Awkwardly, he rests his arm around your waist.

“This is my friend,” You say to him before your eyes flit back to Tim.

He nods before extending his hand. “Ross.”

Good to know. Really good to know.

You watch as Tim undecidedly takes his hand before roughly shaking it. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you open your mouth to explain an early exit.

Tim interrupts, “Are you two–”

“Yes!” You both say.

Tim’s gaze hardens. “Oh.”

He looks indecisive; as if debating whether or not he wants to say something more that could possibly get him into trouble. He would if Ross wasn't here—or if Ross happened to be a foot shorter. Yet, Tim just purses his lips and nods.

“We would love to stay...” You trail off before glancing up at Ross.

He catches your look. “But we have plans.”

You nod enthusiastically.

Romantic ones, you want to quip to really drive it home. You settle for a hand on his chest to get your point across.

“Right,” Tim says, eyeing you directly. It looks like he finally gained enough courage because he takes another step closer to you. “So no–”

“Have a good one, mate.” Ross interrupts, stepping in front of you.

You're only able to exhale when he retreats to the other end of the bar. Then, you're reactively stepping away from Ross and his gaze is falling to the hand that held you by the waist.

“Thank you,” You say like you're out of breath. He looks up at you with a smile that would put any other person at ease, but for you, it has you screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment. “And I'm so sorry."

He laughs. “For what?”

“I'm sure you didn't expect to be terrorized when you were just coming here for a drink,” You explain in rush, your words running together in an effort to get them out all at once. “I got ditched and trapped and none of that was going great—”

You know you sound like a case, but Ross listens to you go on until you’re sighing and looking at him apologetically again.

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” He frowns when you say it again. He hesitates before adding, “I’m just glad I didn't get throttled by anyone.”

You blankly stare, eyes running up his stature. “You would’ve been fine.”

His eyes light up.

“Saying I could’ve taken him?” He teases.

You laugh quietly. “You’d have a fighting chance.”

There's a brief pause of silence between the two of you that has you thinking this is where it ends. Before Ross ends up bidding you a quick goodbye and making his way to his group of friends or painfully informing you that his non-fake girlfriend is waiting for him at the other end of the bar top. You're prepared to apologize again, the "s" word is on the tip of your tongue—

“What’s my girlfriend's name?”

Your mind stutters momentarily, and you look at him in surprise. He's peering down at you and you realize your assumption that he looked kind was completely accurate. His eyes fucking radiate it.

You give him your name and hand sheepishly.

“Can I walk you to your car?” He asks after, still holding your hand. Then he nods to the bar, “Or buy you a drink?”

You chuckle shyly. “Shouldn’t I buy you a drink for what I put you through?”

“If you’d like,” He shrugs. “If that gets you to stay.”

You spare a look away from Ross to survey the bar. You can't see him anywhere but your eyes still skirt over every bar seat just to make sure.

“I'll hold your hand the whole time,” He adds lightheartedly, following your eyes as you glance around the room. Then he quips a quiet, "Don't think he'd try anything anyway."

“Boyfriend of the year,” You muse at him with a smile.

You swear tints red at this but you don't linger on it too long, letting his hand brush yours as guides you back to the bar. He ducks his head down, murmuring something along the lines: “Would be a pretty shitty one if I didn't.”

[queenbeewrites]

🍎Apple Of Her Eye [femdom] - Chapter 6

He slept well that night and woke up to her sleeping on his chest. In the bright light of the sun, her skin was glowing brown, innocent, and tired, unlike the women from the last night.

The women from the last night held the eyes of a predator, giving him shivers in the present as well.

“How could you look like this?” He whispered, hesitantly moving his fingers to her cheek.

His touch landed on her supple skin like a feather on the silk and she nuzzled onto his chest, grasping him tighter. It prompted his touch to pull back and his eyes to flutter, warming his eyes at her.

He remained still in his position for a while, just gazing at her as if lost in the warmth of the summer. But swiftly realized he had to get up. It was already 9 am.

He carefully removed himself from the bed, holding her head with a gentle grasp, and placed her on the pillow, covering her with the blanket. His lips closer to her face like the quenched to the water sought to touch hers, hypnotizing him to lean further.

But suddenly his lack of confidence pulled him away from her and to the bathroom, not noticing her sullen eyes to gaze at him to leave. Her lips curved from the happened scenario.

He stood against the mirror, his heart creating a loud rhythm hidden in his chest as he gazed at himself in the mirror.

“What was I about to do?” He questioned, reminiscing about those romance scenes in movies. “It’s not a movie. It’s real life. Get it together.” His eyes fell on the red mark on his neck, the bumping feelings hitting him once again.

After a while, he came out of the bathroom with a washed body as if nothing had happened and swiftly noticed her sleeping figure gone from the bed. She had woken up, but where was she? His head wondered, prompting his feet to scan the house, worriedly.

“Triya!’ He called, stopping in the kitchen, his astounded eyes falling on her disturbed face. She was drinking water, standing with her hair messed up, and her free hand on her waist.

“What happened?” She questioned, placed the glass of water in the sink, and strode to him.

“I thought you went somewhere.” He worded, calming down his rapid heart, as she halted before his eyes. “Where would I go? This is my house. You were shouting as if I ran away or got kidnapped.” Replying with a gentle tone, she ruffled his wet hair, inclining closer to his ear. “You should dry them, or you’ll catch a cold.”

“The hairdryer is there.” She pointed to her dressing table and walked off to freshen up. She was right. Why would she run away from her own house, but what if it was his house? Would she have run away after just finding out about his peculiar secret?

A worried tone played itself like continuing music in his head while he chopped vegetables, losing track of time. “You’re cooking breakfast?” Her tone suddenly echoed with the numb tone of her feet walking towards him as she rubbed her hair with the towel.

She had just taken a shower. Wet hair and fresh clothes were enlightening her beautiful features. “You didn’t have to.” She added, halting beside him to see the sizzling omelet in the pan.

“Oh, this looks appetizing.” Her applauding words and mesmerized face caused yet another riot inside him, causing him to get shy and flush up. Why was she always saying good things about him? Whatever was she saying was even true? What was she truly thinking?

“What were you thinking?” She raised a surprising question, pulling the stern back into his relaxed body. “Nothing.” He simply replied, swaying his eyes away from her seeking look.

“But you looked worried.” Adding like honey to the green tea, she grasped him from behind, inhaling the scent of her shampoo in his hair. “Your forehead was all wrinkly.” She gently grasped his forehead, slowly massaging it.

Her soft fingers, rubbing his forehead, also rubbed him into the comfort of her arms, controlling the actions of his hands to stop. “Are you worried about something?” Persistent as ever, she asked.

“No. I just didn’t want the omelet to burn.” He answered in whispers, relieving and astounding her at the same time. “Simple things like this get you so worried?” She turned him around, grasping his face in her hands.

He nodded, shy as ever, and got under the sight of her eyes, quickly turning around as he stuttered, “it will burn. Go sit there. I’ll bring it to you.” Flipping the omelet on the pan, he gave her a soft push to the living room.

“Are you sure? You don’t want my help?” Looking back as he pushed him, she questioned, watching him shake his head.

The calm morning slowly passed like the sun slowly rising up on everyone’s head. It was shining through the glass door of her second-floor apartment, dazzling on his skin.

He had fallen tired of the busy television playing before his eyes, sleeping on the rug, his head on the couch. She was sitting behind his head, under the soft blanket, reading the description of a knife for sale.

“Karan.” She called his name, trying to show him how beautiful the knife was, but received no answer. She called his name again, her eyes falling on his sleeping eyes when she again received no answer.

At the sight of his pure innocence, she could not call her rising hand back and it slowly landed on his supple skin. Her eyes caressed his skin along with her slithering fingers abruptly, noticing a red spot on his neck.

She wondered with squinting eyes and slowly got up, sitting by his sleeping figure. She scanned it thoroughly, pulling his sweater down a bit, and realized it was her own doing.

Her fingers grazed through the mark, a smile forming on her face, relishing her ownership as her heart thumped inside her chest. However, her moment was disrupted as his eyes fell open.

Astonished at the closeness of her face, he sunk back, pulling his sweater back to cover the mark. “Why are you hiding this from me? Wasn’t I the one who made it?” Her question loomed over his head as her eyes inclined closer to his burning face.

He had never known what to answer to her question and at that moment he was facing the same issue. He shut his eyes as he felt her lips moving closer to his, his hands grasping onto the rug to find some comfort.

He was expecting her lips to eventually meet his like an answer meets the question. Instead, she slowly pulled the blanket from the couch and wrapped it over his body, prompting a sense of worry in his head as his eyes fell open to the act.

“You really don’t worry about catching a cold.” She whispered, not realizing that he had just started to worry about not getting kissed.

“Can you come with me tomorrow after college?” She questioned, getting up. “To where?” He answered with a question, feeling her lie behind him on the couch. “I want to visit this new cafe. It seems to be getting popular lately.” Her words slithered as her fingers slid into his hair, softly rubbing them.

“Don’t you want to take Prisha with you?” He tilted his head back, noticing she lay without any blanket over her body. He was wondering why she wanted him to accompany him when she had a friend already and why she gave him her blanket and she herself was sleeping in the cold.

“No. I want you to go with me.” Her answer came direct and positive, making him turn his head back to the television. “Now, sleep. You seem tired.” Adding, she turned off the television, making him wonder more about her actions.

*****

END OF THE CHAPTER Boosty: https://boosty.to/queenbeewrites

You can stalk me here: https://twitter.com/Queenbee__33

[magic-hcs]

Hi Hi! Can I request an angst scenario with the guys from AT, Razzle and Charon where after rejecting reader (fem) thousands of times they see her fall in love and start a relationship with their brothers? Today I feel like a little anguish sorry. Thanks <3 (If you are going to create your anon list Can i be 💟 anon?)

There’s nothing wrong with feeling a little anguish 💟 anon! And of course you can be 💟 anon!

Thank you for being so patient with me on me making this ask. I’m getting back into writing asks again so I hope you all can expect your asks you all send ages ago to be done sooner rather than later!

Raven: AT Sans

Crest: AT Papyrus

Razzle: SF Sans

Charon: UF Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Raven: Raven likes you as a friend, nothing more and nothing less, so he is glad that you stopped bothering him with your constant confessions. He had started to avoid you because of it. But then one day you stopped, and he felt relieved that you had become bored with him constantly rejecting you. Only to become surprised to find out you’re dating his brother now.

Raven definitely pulled Crest to the side to ask if you pressured him into dating you or not. And also to ask if you pestered Crest just as much as you had done to him, and to ask a few more questions. If it’s a no to both of those two questions and a positive answer to all of the other questions Raven will gladly let you date his brother. There will be some tension between you and him however. He just wants to make sure you won’t pressure or pester his brother like you did to him. Crest, being the awesome guy that he is, deserves only the best after all.

✨✨

Crest: Crest feels very flattered by your heartfelt confession, human! But sadly he got to reject your affections. He just doesn’t feel the same way. Friendship is just as good if not better than relationships of the romantic kind, no?

That’s how Crest reacted the first time you confessed to him. By the second time he is less enthusiastic and tells you that he doesn’t feel the same and rather preserve the friendship you two share. Thinking that the first time he rejected you he hadn’t made his intentions clear enough or something.

By the third time, Crest is getting a bit exasperated. He gets it, he’s a very charming guy and you like him that way. He appreciates the sentiment, but Crest really isn’t interested in you that way, and you persisting even after he told you no really isn’t doing you any favors.

By the fourth and fifth time he looks down right annoyed. Crest can tell whenever you’re about to confess to him and stops you right in your tracks with a curt “NO.” If you try to continue your confession as if he hadn’t just cut you off, Crest will just ignore you and leave the conversation entirely.

Of course Crest tells his brother of these unwanted confessions by you. And Raven is quite put off by the notion. He advises Crest to just cut you out his life because he can clearly see that you are draining his younger brother mentally.

There’s no way that you’ll get together with Raven. Not after he knows about your repeated confessions to his brother.

✨✨

Razzle: Razzle at first, felt honored that you had affection for him, and applauded your guts for confessing to him. However he politely declined it since he didn’t share the same affection and it would be rude to lead you on. However, you didn’t seem to take a no for an answer and kept on confessing, hoping that one time his answer would be different. But it wouldn’t change, only the way he rejected you changed. And it gets more rude - annoyance, an obvious tone in his voice - every time you confess to him again. He pretty much lost all care he had for you, and the reason why is quite simple.

Razzle doesn’t have respect for people who can’t take a no for an answer and persistently keep doing it anyways.

And then, one day, you stopped trying to confess your feelings to him. Razzle felt a cautious hope well up inside of him. Expecting that any time now you would go back to your annoying persistent self. But you didn’t, and Razzle felt relieved. At least, until he found out you had decided to pursue one of his brothers. That short lived relief he had felt had promptly been thrown out the nearest window.

Depending on who you decide to pursue, Razzle will behave as follows:

Coal can handle himself, Razzle knows that. Coal has shed his stripes so long ago, yet Razzle can’t help but fuss over him like he’d always done. It is with a heavy soul as he restrains himself from intervening at any moment notice whenever you interact even somewhat flirty with his youngest brother. Coal is a kind monster, he treats you nicely. The first few times you flirted with him he flustered and stumbled over himself in surprise, cheekbones flushing a golden yellow. However, he requests you don’t do that again.

If it’s Mastiff, he isn’t all that worried about him. Mastiff doesn’t care to play nice to those who irritate him. He will shut you down fast, and if you try it a second time he will bare his teeth and growl with a fierce glare. Telling you to get lost.

Oh yeah, both Mastiff and Coal know about how you kept confessing to their older brother. These boys are a tight knit family, if you tried to get with one of them and it didn’t work out, or didn’t happen; you won’t be able to get with a different brother.

✨✨

Charon: Charon will shut you down quickly. He hasn’t gone to therapy and became a therapist himself to let your persistence and refusal to take no as an answer drain him negatively. To Charon, boundaries are sacred. And with your refusal to respect them, he will cut you out of his life. There is the door, don’t let it kick you on the way out. Charon is very firm in this, you can’t convince him otherwise.

Something that hasn’t been discussed about often with Red, and that fact is that Red got a bad side too where he can be a huge dick and a half. What has that to do with this you wonder? Maybe the fact that Red-when he catches wind that you’ve been bothering his younger brother like that-will accept to date you just to mess with you. Not that he’ll seek you out or anything to put his scheme in motion. Charon is an adult after all, but since you went after him next with the intention to date, why, it’s an opportunity too good to pass up. He’ll accept dates but ends up not showing up, or he shows up but dips at the end so you’ll be forced to pay. Red will make inappropriate jokes that you won’t like. Probably will sleep around while in relationship with you and leave evidence of said affairs around for you to find. And a lot more to annoy, hurt you emotionally and to mess with you.

Red’s not kind to those he doesn’t like. Especially to those who bother his brother like that. And be warned, Red holds grudges for a long ass time.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Eighteen.

A huge thank you to everyone for being such a lovely audience :) I appreciate you more than you know.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

Words - 3,898

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you more with EZ. It’s a shitty position to be in, though, caught between my girl and my club. Especially the fucking president of the club, a guy I have a lotta respect for. I’m not good with it, though, the fact he scared you.”  

Pausing, Guero leaned to her, kissing the side of her neck. “Saying that, though, despite the fact I knew you were scared, you fucking stood your ground. Baby got spicy! Made me real proud.”  

“What can I say?” she mused, her eyebrows rising. “I’d had a couple a’ five beers by the time you guys arrived back. Had a little courage bolstering my spice. He came and apologised though, so we’re good.” Her eyes then found an annoyance that had been bothering her for the past hour, lifting her chin. “That over there in the leather shorts, I’m not so good with.”  

Guero followed her line of vision, receiving a wave and a smile he only acknowledged with a slight nod. “Yeah, that’s Lauryn. She hasn’t been around much, guessed she came with one of the guys from another charter. She um, she tends to get around.”  

Her mouth tightened a fraction, cocking her head a little. “And has she ever gotten around you?”  

He shook his head. “Nope, she don’t do it for me.” Sliding his finger along the dip in her dress, he hooked it, pulling her close. “You’re the one who does it for me.” He kissed her with heat, his hands sliding down to grasp her butt, Emma hoping that his display of affection made Lauryn get the message.  

She wasn’t the jealous type, and she knew he’d been with plenty of the bike bunnies who hung around the club. She’d asked and he’d told her. For the most part, as soon as those girls saw the guys become committed to one woman, they backed off. Lauryn wasn’t one of them.  

“Yup,” Lee burped into her hand, pointing over to where the girl stood with her back to them a short time later. “She made a play for Obispo one time. Fuckin’ cracked her with a pool cue for it. Ain’t got no shame, that one. If she wants a specific dick, doesn’t fuckin’ matter to her if that dick is occupied, she’ll sniff around to see if there’s a chance of swiping it. I don’t do slut shaming, go get your fill is what I say, but not with another woman’s man. That’s low-down behaviour, sick shit, messed up, man.”  

Lauryn then turned, lifting her chin. “Yeah, I’m talking about your trashy ass, homegirl!” Draping an arm around Emma’s shoulders, she fixed her with a look of defiance, the girl turning back to whoever she was talking to. “Absolute fuckin’ shit show.”  

“She seems it, and I am in no fucking mood to deal with that tonight,” Emma stated, Lee softly applauding. 

Guero looked entertained by that statement, his grin wide. “Spicy boo got all the heat tonight!” 

“I fucking have, and she can have it if she tries me.” 

“Yes, sugar! If she continues making eyes at your guy, you need to get over there and set her straight!” Lee roared, hiccupping.  

“Oh god,” a nearby Angel sighed, shaking his head as he walked over. “Tiger is out of the damned cage. First you give my brother a face full of knuckles, and now you’re yelling at everyone.” 

“Not everyone, just her,” Lee chirped, bolting back more of her drink. 

“Bish is gonna gag you before the night is out.” 

Lee grinned widely, giving him a little soft poke in the chest. “Don’t you threaten me with a good time!”  

His head shaking continued, wrapping an arm around her. “Nothin’ but fucking trouble when you’re drunk.” As it happened, it wasn’t Lee’s actions that would lead to trouble that night, the girls heading back inside with a few of the guys to congregate at the bar, Emma going to use the bathroom. When she came back out, it was to a sight that displeased the hell out of her.  

“Told you, I ain’t interested,” she could just about hear Guero state over the roar of Ace of Spades by Motorhead, Lauryn attempted to drape herself around him. He then looked up, catching her eye, stepping back and nodding in her direction as he took as seat at the bar again. “My girl is right there, you need to fucking quit.”  

Her jaw tightened, eyeing her with the kind of venom that she might not have had if she hadn’t been ten beers in. Unfortunately for Lauryn, though, she was, and her give a fuck meter was as unflinching as her anger. 

“Oh, man,” Angel spoke, turning to his side to witness her death glare, cringing slightly. “You gonna give us all a hair pulling chick fight? C’mon, it’ll be awesome!”  

Reaching behind him, she yanked the knife from his belt before he could stop her. “I’ll fucking give you more than that.” Storming around the bar, Lauryn’s look of defiance was met with a hand to her throat, Emma driving her across the space, men all around turning to look as the object of her rage was pinned against the side of the door. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, Emma taking the knife and slamming it straight into the wood, an inch from the side of her head. The look of fear that flooded Lauryn’s face was instant. 

"Oh, oh did that scare you?" She exclaimed, sarcasm dripping, yanking the knife from the wood and pressing it against her throat. "Yeah, I'm not what you thought I was, am I?" 

While Lauryn was being held against the side of the doorframe, almost every single pair of eyes within the club watched it happen, Guero sitting there stunned. Well, stunned and... 

"Bro, if this kicks off any further, will you go grab my girl?" he muttered to Bottles. 

Tearing his eyes from the scene, he adjusted his glasses, frowning slightly. "Yeah, but why can't you?" 

Guero shook his head, the corners of his mouth upturning. "Can't even walk right now. My dick is too hard. Damn, that's hot." 

Bottles snorted, almost spraying his beer, Angel leaning in. "No disrespect, dog, but yeah. Mine too." 

While the guys had their quiet moment of exalting how arousing the sight of an angered woman was, the angered woman in question continued making sure her feelings were heard. 

"Listen to me, if you fucking wave your pussy anywhere near my guy again, I swear I will cut that shitty tattoo right off your face. Am I making myself clear, puttana?" 

Lauryn nodded, eyes wide, feeling embarrassment rise in her throat. Still, she swallowed hard and lifted her chin, at least attempting not to look as frightened as she felt at having a sharp knife held to her throat. "Yeah, you are." 

Smirking, Emma lowered the blade. "Good, now get the fuck out of here." Giving her a last, disapproving sweep with her eyes, she finally released the hard grasp that had held her throat, Lauryn gasping as she was let go, moving from the clubhouse rapidly.  

Walking back to Guero, his eyes still like saucers, she handed an equally stunned Angel his knife back. “Thank you, buddy.” She then picked up a shot of tequila and sank it, her eyes flitting between the guys, all stupefied by her display of mettle. “What?” 

“You!” Bottles laughed, reaching to nudge her arm friendlily with a fist. “You and your bad-assery, gone fried up your man’s brain. Look at him! He’s malfunctioned, needs his operating system restarting.”  

She was just about to reply when two arms wrapped around her shoulders, a set of lips pressing into her cheek. “That’s how you fuckin’ do it! Bitch got her shit rocked,” Lee exclaimed. “Proud of ya, sunshine.” 

Guero was still on mute, but the look in his eyes, oh. It spoke many words, all of which Emma understood very clearly. Sinking the rest of his beer, he also downed a shot before sliding off the bar stool and promptly throwing her over his shoulder.  

“Woah, okay!” she giggled, hanging onto the back of his kutte. “Where are we going?” 

He chuckled, low and dirty, his hand pounding off her ass in a hard spank. “To restart my operating system.” He carried her with a dark tide of lust shadowing his insides, through the gate and out into the darkness of the yard, through the piles of abandoned, rusting metal, his eyes scanning from side to side.  

The still partially shiny metal of a large, double doored fridge caught his attention, carrying her to it. Letting her slide from his shoulder, he pinned her against the structure with his chest before she could reach the ground, her legs tightening around him. 

“Damn, baby,” he panted, pulling at his belt buckle, running the tip of his tongue up her neck. “You’re gonna get railed so fucking hard.”  

They kissed with furious hunger, Guero feeling a ravenous desire tumbling over his bones, yanking his jeans undone and pushing them down his thighs, pulling her underwear aside and dropping her onto his cock with a rumbling grunt. He teeth imbedded in her lower lip, tongue rolling against hers as he speared her with deep, rapid thrusts, pulverising her insides, her wail rending the air.  

He was savage with her, a ravenous delight that tumbled through him and into her, the thick drag of his cock filling and emptying her with absolutely nothing short of carnal fury, the remaining shelves within the fridge all beginning to clatter with the force he fucked her against it with. 

“If getting mad at people does this to you, I might have to do it more often,” she panted, crying out as her walls flexed around him, feeling the coil within her tightening. He was just about to tell her how her spicy temper worked like an accelerant upon his desire, when she continued. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that cock is so fucking big! Mmm, yeah, fuck me harder. Fucking split me in two.” 

And oh, how he did after hearing those sinfully dirty words. It roared over them both like a forest fire, the flames of their release scorching their nerves, leaving them both panting and trembling in the wake of such torrid ferocity.  

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she panted, resting her forehead to his as he pulled out and set her back on her feet. “Doubt I’ll be able to walk after that.” 

He chuckled, kissing her hotly. “You did say split you in two, my spicy lil’ boo.” She walked as if she had been as well, Guero laughing to himself as they walked back to continue with the debauchery. They left at close to 4am, getting home via a cab since while not wasted, both were a little unsteady at that point. Stripping off, they let their clothes fall into a heap, throwing themselves into bed and curling up.  

Alcohol was the strong sleeping tonic that pulled them both into slumber, neither Emma’s hissing nor Guero’s brontosaurus snoring hampering it. It was unfortunate that for the former, her sleep was not restful, though.  

She recognised her dream surroundings immediately, the huge, white and oak kitchen, people buzzing around, she and Marie preparing little trays of appetisers for party guests.  

“Here, darling. Make sure that plate stays separate, it’s for my ma,” Marie spoke, pointing at the little blue plate she had prepared a selection of gluten free snacks upon. “Unfortunate, isn't it? An Italian who can’t have gluten! Mother Mary, did you ever hear such a thing?”  

Emma turned to her side, smiling, her eyes prickling as she played out her role in the dream, exactly as it had happened in life. “You’d be a nightmare if you couldn’t have proper bruschetta, mom.” 

Marie nudged her with a soft elbow, chuckling as she sipped her wine. “Me and no bread, can you imagine?”  

Even though just a dream, all Emma wanted to do was throw her arms around her, breathe in the scent of her Guerlain perfume, and tell her how much she missed her. Not having any kind of power over it, though, she found herself acting as she had on that night, Rocco’s fiftieth birthday there at the house, picking up the little blue plate.  

“I’ll go take these out to her, she’s down by the pool.”  

Marie clasped her arm, squeezing softly. “Good girl.”  

Lifting the plate from the crowded island full of Marie’s beautiful, home cooked Italian delights, Emma left through the back door, walking down across the patio, smiling at guests as she passed.  

“Are these for me?” Anna-Lucia greeted her with warmly, Emma proffering the plate forth.  

“Yes, gluten free, just for you.” 

Her smile was kind, taking the plate as she set her martini glass down on the table. “Thank you, love.”  

With a little nod, Emma carried on, making herself of use by beginning to collect all the abandoned plates so she could go and place them into the dishwasher, knowing that if she didn’t, she could expect an earful of abuse or worse from Rocco. While passing through the lower part of the sprawling garden, she noticed that an earful was exactly what somebody was getting from her captor, her eyes scanning until she saw Rocco with a group of his friends, he and another in a heated exchange.  

The man sure had balls, she thought, stepping up to the boss like that, Emma recognising him to be Mario, Rocco’s nephew. The exchange grew in ferociousness, Rocco suddenly lunging at him, clasping his throat and shunting him back against the children’s large, wooden playhouse. He then pulled a knife from his pocket, releasing the blade and plunging it into the wood right at the side of Mario’s head, yanking it out and holding it to his throat.  

She awoke with a start.  

“Mm, s’up, baby? Nightmare?”  

“No,” she sighed, reaching to rub Guero’s forearm, taking a deep breath. “No, it was only a dream, but shit, it spooked me.” It hit her hard, such a realisation, that there within her subconscious lay a memory that her brain had drawn upon earlier in how she’d handled the situation with Lauryn. In wanting to make it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate such behaviour, she’d become the one thing she never wanted to be. Rocco.  

Taking a breath, she leaned forward, resting her forehead to her knees. “What I did to Lauryn tonight, I behaved exactly how Rocco did one time towards his nephew. Mother fucking Mary, it was spot on, my brain must’ve drawn it out of a memory, because I just dreamed of the night I saw it happen. Christ, I’m him. I acted like he does when he’s pissed!”  

“Mamas, no you ain’t. No way are you anything like that motherfucker.” Her boyfriend’s statement was staunch, Emma reaching for the nightstand lamp and switching it on.  

Stretching her arms, she rested her head upon her knees again, hugging them to her chest as he stroked her back. “But what I did was, though! I went straight from his playbook, even called her a puttana, too. He used to call me that. Jesus!”  

It was a hard juxtapose for Guero, since he was by nature a person who, had it been a guy sniffing around Emma, likely would have done exactly the same thing. In his world, it was the norm. Hell, he’d heard all about the time Lee had taken a pool cue to Lauryn and smacked her with it so hard it had broken after the third strike against her head. In Emma’s former world too, violence was the natural display of anger, but he saw clearly that she wasn’t comfortable with it being hers.  

“Look, it’s hard for me, being a person with a real fucking bad temper and thinking your reaction was justified, but I get that you aren’t so cool with it,” he began, shrugging a little. “I might not be the best person to advise you, bearing that in mind. I dunno, I’d say maybe in future if you feel yourself getting to that point then dial it back, but again, I don’t have the best track record at doing the same.” He paused, moving forward further, resting his chin to her shoulder. “How you acted in one moment isn’t defining of who you are, though. Cuz’ you ain’t him, baby.”  

Pulling back from it. What he said made sense, even though he acknowledged it was something often beyond his own capabilities, Emma saw that going forward, she had to try for it not to be out of her own grasp. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew come the following day, she’d be putting herself within his proximity again, maybe it was that which had stirred her, the fear manifesting into the kind of anger she was not used to feeling.  

The subconscious was a complicated beast, she realised.  

Tiny little storms of worry struck upon her brain as she lay back down, curling into the warmth of Guero’s embrace once more. Still, she was glad that the alcohol in her system acted more powerfully to send her back to sleep than her thoughts did in keeping her awake. Upon waking, she had much more pressing troubles. 

“My eyelashes hurt,” she bemoaned, sitting with Lee outside the clubhouse five hours later, both drinking very large, very strong coffees while they waited for their first customer to drop his bike off with them. “I haven’t felt this bad since my thirtieth, when we finished that bottle of mandarin vodka between ourselves.” 

Indeed, Emma’s birthday had been a blast, but god, how she and Lee had suffered for it. EZ had found them passed out on top of his trailer, taking a combined effort from him, Guero and Bishop while also wasted to get them down again.  

At the mere memory of orange vodka, Lee heaved suddenly, placing her coffee down and rushing back into the clubhouse, passing Bottles as he exited.  

“You look remarkably fresh for someone who moved to sambuca at 2am,” she groaned, the bespectacled man beaming. 

“I don’t get hangovers.” His statement earned him a scowl. “So, where’s G unit?” he then asked. 

“Still asleep. He’ll be down a little later. I take it you didn’t even go home?” 

Just then, the clubhouse door opened, revealing a girl with long, bright blue hair and a shaved side, tickling Bottles on the neck with her fingernails, turning to wink at Emma before she sauntered away, swinging her hips seductively.  

He pointed with a grin. “Woke up between the pool table and her.” 

She immediately thrust her fist forth. “Gimme some knucks!”  

“Between that and the funky assed temper, you’re getting just like Lee,” he chuckled, obliging her with a fist bump. 

A little prickle sharpened against her gut about the temper comment, thinking to herself that it wasn’t Lee whom she’d resembled last night as she’d wielded Angel’s knife. One thing Guero had told her rang true, though. She was not Rocco, and she had to emphatically remind herself of that.  

Smiling, she responded casually. “Eh, I learned from the best.” The best arrived back after a few minutes, looking a little green, taking a seat with a groan. 

“Please don’t tell me it’s today we gotta go to Tahoe,” she pleaded, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “I can’t cope!”  

“No, buddy. Guero booked us for tomorrow, remember?” 

“Remember? I don’t remember anything after you pulling a knife on that fuckin’ little tramp,” she groaned, Emma kissing her forehead as she made further noises of discontent, Lee then turning her attention to Bottles. “And why do you look so goddamned spritely? How fuckin’ dare you when I feel like my liver is packing up to leave! It’s outta here, on vacay, leaving me to die a death!”  

He pushed his glasses up his nose, still beaming widely. “Got laid better than a roll of linoleum.”  

His analogy cracked them up, Lee lighting herself a cigarette, taking a deep breath. “Well, at least you got some. I was too hammered to get a hammering! I’d say I’d never do it again, but I’ll have to be drunk just to sleep next to Gilly. Dude doesn’t snore, he fuckin’ whistles when he’s asleep. I’m surprised he doesn’t wake up every morning to a pack of dogs out on his fuckin’ front lawn.” 

Much to Lee’s light chagrin, the only rooms available were doubles, meaning she and the big man had to share a bed. Bishop had made it even worse for her by jokingly telling her she could have a hall pass, mortifying the hell out of her since she looked at Gilly like a younger brother. The two men had nearly split their sides laughing as she’d hid her face in her hands.  

“I still don’t know how the hell we’re meant to find out the room Vincent will be staying in when we get there,” Emma sighed, while they chatted about their upcoming visit. “I mean, what, one of us attracts the front desk person while the other tries to get a look at the computer screen?”  

“Or you just get somebody with the right set of skills to hack into the hotel’s booking system, and there you have your room number,” Bottles chirped, his face brightening more by the second. “I am that person, in case you two are too hungover for nuance.”  

They sat up like a pair of meerkats, very curious over the information presented to them. “I’d completely fuckin’ forgotten that, that you’re a genius with the ole’...” Lee trailed off, making a typing motion with her fingers. 

He cocked his head, looking pleased with himself. “I’d say somebody should’ve brought it to me last night prior to you guys booking hotel rooms for longer than necessary, but I was too deep in blue haired babe heaven, and everyone was wasted. Is what it is.” One short trip to fetch his gear later, and the three of them were sitting at the bar, Bottles tapping away. 

“Okay, Hyatt Regency,” he muttered, eyes scanning the screen as streams of data moved across it, imputing more numbers and codes. “And enter this here, and... yep... mmhmm... bingo. I’m in.” He began to study the long list of names, Emma going behind the bar and pouring herself a shot of tequila, needing to see if hair of the dog worked. “Got it. Calabrese, room three zero seven.” He then continued to look down the list. “Lombardi, room five four two, just an FYI. Where are your rooms?” 

“Ten and thirty-three, so we’re not even on the same floor. Phew.” Emma confirmed, breathing a sigh of relief. They didn’t even need to use the elevator, with them being on the ground floor. Inside though, her worry began to slowly coil around itself, like a viper constricting upon its prey.  

Ten months ago, she’d escaped the clutch of the mafia, and now there she was, putting herself right back within their proximity. She just had to hope that the many tentacles of the hydra did not notice her presence, especially not the biggest of them all.  

[unioncolours]

Congratulations on the new number of subscribers. Surely I am one of them. So this is the prompt for your tiny giveaway.. I love ShikaTema, in the mood for AU and angsty storyline, but I choose I don't have time to bleed as the main one. Thank you for all your wonderful stories, you are one of my favourites of shikatema writer. I hope you always be in abundance of happiness, imagination, and creativity.

Oh, thank you, dear Anon 🖤 I am glad to hear you're subbed to me (and sorry for the lack of new fics...).

You said you're in the mood for an AU and angsty storyline and then I cannot not write a snip of that blasted Witcher AU that has lived rent free in my head since 2020. The snip here would most likely not be part of the main story in my head, but connected to it.

Thank you 🥰

Bleeding Fire

ShikaTema Witcher Au

Word count: 950 words.

Tags: Blood, Magic AU, inspired by the games not the show

“I’ve seen you in better shape,” Temari snorted when she closed in on Shikamaru. “I found this downstairs,” she added and waved with his silver sword. “They had taken good care of it. Were probably going to melt it and recast it as a silver chain, I’d wager.”

“You holding it doesn’t suit you,” Shikamaru replied through a tired smile. The blood from his nose had already dried along his upper lip and he was deadly annoyed at being in this position, trapped and bound by a pillar in some kind of attic just because one decoction failed and made him temporarily blind as the gang had caught up on him. During normal circumstances it would never have happened. He’s more skilled that this.

“I know,” Temari said and dropped the sword by Shikamaru’s feet. Her hands were splashed with blood – someone else’s blood, but the blade was shiningly clean. She observed her own hands. “As long as I didn’t touch the silver it worked. The hilt saved me.” She looked down at him. “Being bound in simple rope doesn’t suit you either.” Then she grinned and crouched down in front of him. “Or does it? I may like this position of yours.”

“For fucks’ sake, get me out of this, succubus,” Shikamaru muttered, but not even he could deny the slightest fun idea Temari’s suggestion gave him.

Temari reached over and her claw-like fingers worked fast on the rope, slicing it open so Shikamaru could get up.

“Why are you here anyway?” she asked after throwing the rope away. “Lost a game of Gwent? I thought you agreed never to contact me again, yet here I stumble upon you.”

“So I see you smelled me from quarters away, huh. And remember, I never gave any such promises,” Shikamaru said as he got up. His sturdy leather gloves were lying on the floor, and he dressed them on. Unlike the succubus Temari, he didn’t have claws, so this was next best protection. “I am assuming you killed them?”

“Of course,” Temari muttered. “They were part of the fanatics. Eternal Fire and all that crap. Which is why I am surprised you came here when you know they’ll prosecute you, mutant, for even existing. I told you to live a life –”

“Which is why I am surprised you’ve not run away yet,” Shikamaru shot back and placed the silver sword on his back. “When you know the Eternal Fire will kill you for existing. I saw it just yesterday at the square. I saw them burn someone at the stake, and who knows if she was a proper sorceress or not, but now nothing but crisps remain of her corpse. And people applauded.”

“This is my home,” Temari said, voice hard. She stared out of the window, down at the muddy, miserable street below them which was filled with activity. Beggers, merchants, washers, whores, children and cats. The horns sticking out of her head was visible in her reflection. “I lived here before the fanatics came, before that blasted Eternal Fire poisoned everyone’s mind. We created a home here, my family and I.”

“Listen Temari,” Shikamaru said and grabbed her shoulders. “The life you told me to live? I am a witcher. My life means risking it every minute of every day. People hire me to kill monsters and not all monsters are like you. Elementals can smash my skull into mush with one strike if I am not careful, leshens impale me with branches if I am one step behind and specters suck out my soul if I don’t oil my blade before encountering them. This is my life. But you, you have the power to change your life. Do not live here, risking your life every minute of every day – “

“So join me,” Temari said, cutting him off. Shikamaru stared at her and followed her down the wonky stairs. They walked over bodies lying in the staircase and he found his steel sword stuck into the back on one of the red-dressed dead men. Fanatics, not even soldiers by trade. He ripped the sword out and tugged a piece of cloth from the man to clean it from blood.

“No,” he continued. “Skellige is safe for your kind. I know the queen of Skellige, she’ll allow you shelter.”

“Skellige,” Temari echoed when they reached the lowest floor. “A freezing island in the middle of a freezing sea.” She pulled her hands out to exposed her mostly naked upper body, where her tattoos and markings made up a huge hourglass and different swirls. “I want to live in the warmth.”

“I know succubi who live on Skellige,” Shikamaru said and looked down at Temari’s legs which were covered in fur. “They survive just fine. Put on a jacket, maybe.”

“You don’t command me,” Temari hissed and stared out of the window of the door. “Join me, I said. Join me as we rid my beloved city of the plague.”

“And kill the fanatic king in the same breath, huh?” Shikamaru joked. Temari smiled.

“I could cry blood out of fury for all my brothers and sisters who has been prosecuted and killed since the fanatism started,” she said before turning around. “But I don’t have time to bleed. It’s time to put an end to the prosecution of magicians and non-humans. I can kill a king for it if it gives me my freedom back. Shikamaru, why did you come to Novigrad?”

Shikamaru couldn’t give her an honest reply. Temari smiled thinly.

“So help me, witcher,” she said. “You kill monster for hire. So, join me when we kill the true monster in our city. The king himself.”

[forgave-me-not]

TWO SLOW DANCERS ☆ C.A.

As the Singles Champions of Wimbledon, you and Carlos have to partake in the traditional opening dance. But as sparks fly, judgments must be made. word count: 1.6k - also, mitski reference!! warnings: fluff, the usual friends to lovers shtick, Spanish I remember from my sophomore year

If he was going to be honest, Carlos was tired of holding his trophy. He was tired of the camera flashes, people telling him where to stand, and all the awkward shuffling about. But he was happy all the same. He'd won Wimbledon by sheer will and talent, and nothing, not even his face aching from smiling so much, would take away from his joy. His night could always get better, though.

"You look nice, Carlitos," you called from the top of the stairs. Carlos quickly turned around to see who was speaking to him. He'd known it was you by voice alone, and he couldn't hide his smile as he handed off his trophy and bounded up the stairs.

You weren't wearing your usual windbreaker and skirt, nor your jeans and t-shirt. No, you were wearing finery for your special occasion. The dress was a beautiful golden color with ornate beading along the neckline. Its thin straps and open back allowed your faint tan lines to be on display. You held your trophy casually at your side, appearing to have just come from your own photo shoot.

"Gracias," Carlos said with a smile as he straightened his suit jacket and fiddled with his cufflinks. You made him nervous; he could admit that. But in this light, there was something different about you. Shaking the confusion from his head, Carlos offered his arm. You obliged, and the two of you descended the stairs. "I'm glad you're the one I have to dance with," you say lowly. "You know, instead of some old man." Carlos chuckles as he leads you down the stairs, the two of you arm in arm. "That's nice, but I have something to confess."

"And what is that?" He shyly gazes at you with his big brown eyes. "I can't dance," he whispers. You smile at him and pat his arm. "Don't worry, my friend. Just follow my lead."

You take it upon yourself to explain the steps of the waltz to Carlos as joint trophy pictures are being taken. "It's just a simple three count, honey," you say through your teeth as the photographer snaps his pictures. Carlos side-eyes you and keeps smiling. "Lo que digas cariño," he mumbled. His words make your ears burn.

The two of you struggled not to laugh as you took the other's hand, and the music started. A pair of drained, overly enthusiastic young adults dancing for an eager audience. What person in your position wouldn't let out a small giggle?

"You're almost as tall as me tonight," Carlos whispered.

"Oh, hush," you reply. "Focus on your feet, or I'll have to step on you with these big heels." Carlos took your words to heart, and a calm silence fell over you. Carlos' hazel eyes locked into yours as you led the two of you in small circles across the floor. His eyes are so...captivating, you thought to yourself. You allowed yourself to get lost in them, and the rest of the room melted away. It was just you two. Nothing else mattered. You were so busy thinking about Carlos' eyes that you almost didn't know he was looking into yours the same way: pupils blown, face full of wonder. An overwhelming sense of washed over both of you. Carlos' hand on the small of your back was suddenly heavy. Every flutter of your eyelashes felt like a gust of wind. You smiled at each other, hoping it could be played off as friendliness.

"Everyone give our two thousand and twenty-four Wimbledon champions a hand," a woman said into a microphone. And just like that, the moment was over. The two of you separated and waved at the applauding crowd.

"You weren't as bad as you implied," you said, clapping for your dance partner and looking at your audience. Carlos' face flushed. "Well, I did have a good teacher," he said quietly.

The rest of the night goes as planned. People eat, drink, and make merry, all for you and Carlos. You hear a thousand 'congratulations' and 'you played amazing's, shaking everyone's hands and pressing kisses to their cheeks in gratitude.

At some point, you found yourself sitting at Carlos' table, next to him in fact, watching him laugh and speak animatedly with his hands. He glances at you, subtly inviting you to join in on his conversation, but you flashed him a tight-lipped smile and shook your head. In an instant, you grab your clutch off the table and stand up.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," you say politely to the group. Their eyebrows raised a hair, a bit shocked that you'd acknowledged them. You dip down to Carlos' ear and place a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to get some fresh air," you say softly. Carlos watched your figure retreat into the crowd and out the door.

Weighing his options, the young man stood up, excused himself, and followed you.

The unusually warm London breeze ripped through your dress as you sat down on the stone steps. You watched cars go by and thought about how all of them were going about their lives at...you checked your phone. 12:17. Jesus, where'd the time go? You shrugged, tucking your phone into your clutch and pulling out a small tin box. Bamboo Toothpicks. "Well, a toothpick is the closest thing I'll probably ever get to a cigarette," you mumbled to yourself, rolling the little piece of wood over your bottom lip.

Carlos emerged from the hall. He watched you, steadily chewing on your toothpick and listening to the sounds of the city with your head thrown back. There was something so rugged, so beautiful about you—a young woman full of contradictions. You were graceful yet curt; a loud personality and a quiet mind. Sitting there on the (presumably) dirty ground in a dress that had to have cost thousands of dollars without a care in the world. He was thoroughly intrigued.

It was Carlos' turn to call to someone from atop a flight of stairs. "Out here all alone?" You turned around to look at him. He'd loosened his tie, undone the top buttons of his dress shirt, and had the sort of gleam in his eyes that one can only get from drinking a little too much champagne. Hm, sexy, you thought. You stood and watched as he descended the stairs to meet you.

"What are you doing," he said, sitting down just as you had been a second before. You sat beside him and tucked your chin into your folded knees. The two of you were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. "Nothing, really. Thinking, I guess. Watching. Chewing my toothpick." Carlos smiled at the last part. "Why did you leave? ¿Demasiada gente?," he asked, the words in Spanish slowly drifting off his tongue, like he was talking to himself.

"Si, mi amigo. Demasiados," you answered with a smile. "Too many people too late at night." Carlos' eyebrows rose. "¿Tú hablas español?" he asked, slightly taken aback. You giggled at his surprise. "Solo un poco," you reply casually. The two of you shared a quiet laugh. A strong gust of wind blew a curl into your face; Carlos tucked it behind your ear. "There's so much we don't know about each other," Carlos said gently, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking at you bashfully. "Yeah, it seems to be that way," you say, pressing a hand to his face, reveling in the way his stubble pricked your palm. "God, I wish I knew what you were like in high school," you whispered. "It would probably explain a lot."

"Cariño mio," Carlos chuckled. You smiled back at him. "We can stay out here. Talk for a little while if you'd like," he said, almost begging you to say yes. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you considered his proposal. It would be so wonderful to sit in the night air and chat with Carlos, it really would. But you had obligations to attend to, something you cursed yourself for typically being so involved and invested in.

"We shouldn't keep the people waiting, Carlos," you said, patting his cheek and flashing him a bittersweet smile. "But I promise, I swear to you, we will talk later." You stood, towering over Carlos' crouched form. "I'll be expecting you to deliver, hermosa," he said, readying himself to stand up. You held out your hands to assist him. He placed his rough, calloused palms in yours.

"Don't worry honey; I keep my promises," you replied assuredly. "Especially when handsome young men are involved." Carlos blushed at your compliment. Satisfied with your arrangement, you turned to the door but hesitated for a moment.

"Here," you said, grabbing your box of toothpicks from your clutch and dropping it into Carlos' open hands. He looked up at you, eternally confused by the action.

"Now I absolutely have to come back and see you," you said, answering his unasked question. "Oh, and before I go." You grabbed Carlos' face and pressed a kiss to his forehead, feeling his breath hitch at the contact of your lips to his skin. They were soft and warm, just as he thought they would be.

"Buenas noches, mi amor. Te veré pronto," you whispered.

As you turned and walked up the stairs, Carlos reached for your hand, catching the tips of your fingers with his. An affectionate smile spread across your face as you pulled away, leaving him on the steps to look at your receding form for the second time in one night.

translation:

lo que digas cariño - whatever you say darling

¿demasiada gente? - too many people?

si mi amigo. demaisados - yes my friend. too many

solo un poco - only a little

cariño mio - my dear

hermosa - beautiful

buenas noches, mi amor. te veré pronto - good night, my love. I will see you soon

author's note: there were so many instances where this could have ended and it just didn't lol. will there be a second part? only God knows at this point

[blu-joons]

When They Impulsively Kiss You ~ Ateez Reaction

Seonghwa:

Your smile grew as soon as the front door opened, glancing across to see Seonghwa walking through, immediately looking for you.

“There you are,” he grinned, slipping his shoes off before walking across the room to be able to get to you and hold onto you.

“Here I am,” you responded, not too sure what you’d done as Seonghwa got to you, pulling you in closely to his chest straight away.

Nothing else was said as Seonghwa suddenly moved towards you and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling back to find you in the exact same position as you were when he leant in.

“What was the reason behind that?” You chuckled, slightly confused where the sudden burst of affection from him had come from.

“I just missed you today,” he admitted with a wide smile on his face, “all day I’ve found myself thinking about you, desperate to come home to you.”

“Really?” You asked in surprise, never hearing something like it from Seonghwa, “what made you miss me so much today?”

“I don’t know, but I like the feeling.”

Hongjoong:

A nervous hand rested over yours as the clips for the nominees played, with Hongjoong nervously anticipating who would be the winner.

“Ateez! Congratulations!” The presenter of the award called out a few moments later, leaving Hongjoong stunned beside you.

“I told you,” you laughed, poking into Hongjoong’s arm to bring him back into the room and let him realise what they’d done.

His head shook as he turned to face you, pressing a sudden kiss to your lips. The cameras, the fans, none of that mattered to Hongjoong as he celebrated his award win with you and the group.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong told you as he stood up out of his chair, “you know that without you I could have never led us to get to this position Y/N.”

“Yes, you could,” you replied, standing up too to applaud, “you don’t give yourself anywhere near as much credit as you should most of the time Hongjoong.”

“Still, thank you,” he smiled, overwhelmed to know what to say, “a part of this award is for you tonight, so you know.”

“It’s all yours, I’m just another fan of yours.”

Yunho:

The two of you had lost all control as you rolled around on the living room floor, clutching onto your sides to stop them from hurting.

“Why are we like this?” Yunho asked you as he crashed into your body as he rolled, squashing your arm until the other pushed him.

“This is your fault,” you told him, slowly composing yourself again, hiccupping several times as you tried to catch your breath.

As Yunho composed himself too, rolling to lay face to face with you, he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss you, with little giggles still escaping from him even as he pulled away.

“No one makes me laugh like you,” he told you a moment later, slightly explaining the sudden motion of him kissing you, “I love being with you.”

“You’re crazy,” you joked in reply, tapping your hand against his chest, “I don’t know what has gotten into you recently, you laugh about anything.”

“It’s your fault,” Yunho protested, “you just find a way to tickle my funny bones, I’d love to know how you do it.”

“What can I say? I’m just hilarious.”

Yeosang:

Your head shook as you noticed the guy at the bar stepping closer and closer towards you, stumbling all over the place.

“Excuse me,” you spoke as soon as you felt him invading your space, holding your hand up to stop him getting too close to you.

“Hey,” Yeosang suddenly spoke up soon behind you as he realised what was going on, “that’s my girlfriend you’re getting close to.”

Before you knew it, Yeosang spun your barstool around so that you were facing him, pressing a kiss to your lips which left the other guy speechless, quickly stepping away from you.

“What a loser,” Yeosang scoffed as he pulled away to see the guy had done, “you’re lucky I came out with you tonight, he was horrible.”

“I’m lucky you came out with me so that you could pretend to be my boyfriend?” You laughed back at him, “I didn’t realise that was in the list of things for friends to do.”

“You’re welcome,” Yeosang giggled, placing his empty glass in front of you, “the least you can do is buy me another.”

“Of course, you’re my hero after all.”

San:

The feeling of a kiss against your cheek caused you to stir, rolling onto your side to see San wide awake beside you with a smile.

“Happy birthday,” he proudly smiled, showing you his phone where the time was exactly midnight, wanting to treat you straight away.

“Did you really have to kiss me at midnight?” You laughed in reply to him, feeling San snuggle back down after he had kissed you.

Once he was at head level with you, he leant forward again and pressed a second birthday kiss to you, this time catching your lips perfectly, knowing that he had taken you by surprise.

“There’s plenty more where that came from throughout the day,” he promised, “this is just the start, there’s twenty-four hours yet.”

“I feel like I’m going to be in for a long day,” you chuckled back at San, “if this is how you’re starting my birthday, how on earth is the day going to end?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he smugly teased, “just be prepared for the unexpected, that’s all I’m going to say.”

“Well now you definitely have me intrigued.”

Mingi:

The smile on Mingi’s face grew as he watched you walk down the stairs, giggling to himself as soon as he met your eyes in the room.

“You look so nice today,” he complimented as his laughter fell silent, watching a look of confusion appear on your face as he spoke.

“What have you done?” You asked him, puzzled where his sudden kindness came from as San rose to his feet, approaching you.

He took a hold of your hand once he was close enough to you, pulling you towards him and pressing an unsuspecting kiss to your lips to let you know just how much he meant what he said.

“You look lovely, truly,” he smiled once he pulled away from you, knowing from the smile on your face that he had left you a little flustered.

“You’re still up to something,” you teased, refusing to accept San’s compliment quite so easily, “you’re never this nice to me first thing in the morning.”

“I’m just appreciating what I have around me,” he told you, “and nothing around me needs appreciating more than you.”

“What is going on with you this morning?”

Wooyoung:

Your eyes rolled as you opened up your front door, feeling a foot stick in to stop you from shutting it as soon as you saw Wooyoung there.

“Please don’t close the door,” he asked of you, desperate to try and put things right after arguing with you over the phone earlier.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” you told him, trying your best to shut the door, but Wooyoung was too strong to let you.

With a sudden burst of power, allowing him to open your door back up properly, he stepped forwards and rushed to press a kiss to your cheek, letting you know how sorry he was.

“I really am sorry,” Wooyoung told you as he pulled away, knowing by the look on your face that he had stunned you, just as he had wanted to.

“You can’t just do that,” you replied, refusing to allow yourself to cave to him so easily, “what you said earlier isn’t something that can be fixed with a kiss.”

“But it’s a start, right?” He pushed, stepping further into your home, “just give me ten minutes to put this right Y/N.”

“You’ve got ten minutes, and that’s it.”

Jongho:

It broke his heart as Jongho watched you wipe underneath your eyes, pulling you a little bit closer to him as you sat on the sofa cross legged.

“It’s alright,” Jongho smiled as he studied you, struggling to know what to do as your breath hitched several times in confusion.

“Sorry,” you told him as you looked up properly at him for the first time, feeling bad for crying on Jongho so suddenly.

His head shook, leaning forward and pressing a sudden kiss to your lips to assure you that you had nothing to worry about, hoping too that it would help to cheer you up a little bit.

“What was that for?” You weakly smiled as Jongho pulled away from you, feeling your heart race at the sudden feeling of his lips pressed to yours.

“It just felt,” he shrugged in reply to you, “whenever I get upset or stressed you give me a hug or something, I thought that I’d try and do the same for you.”

“Thank you,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes once again, “I really needed that actually, it’s nice to not be alone.”

“You know you’ve always got me Y/N.”

---

Masterlist

[poisonouswritings]

Hi! Love your work and it's been getting me through the last legacy drought ;-;

May I request the main 3 with a MC that wears really cute or baggy clothes so you can't see their figure too well but one day after idk getting caught in the rain the mc is changing the LIs just see that mc is ripped/ has badass tattoos and the LIs just shuting down lol

Literally none of them are prepared for this

GN!Reader, changing the scenario a little bit, Colored Bullet Rule (Felix, Anisa, Sage)

It's a casual day. You've been working on some spellwork for the better part of the morning and decide to take a quick stretch break. So out you go to Fathom's training yard! Only to see Anisa throw Sage (like a sack of potatoes) into a stack of haybales while Felix applauds from a bench on the sidelines.

Sage clambers up to his feet, straw stuck in his braid, growling and snapping at Anisa and demanding a redo. Meanwhile Anisa is trying not to snicker as she says that Sage must be getting slow.

That's right about when you step into view, wearing some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie.

Felix beckons for you to sit next to him, eagerly asking you how your studying is going. Do you need help with anything? A lot of those spells can be quite difficult for someone who has only recently started learning, though you are doing a magnificent job so far

Anisa happily goes to hug you - aka pick you up and spin you - in greeting. Says it's good that you're taking a rest! Spells can be difficult, and you need to take it easy. She just doesn't want you tiring yourself out. Though if you need someone to carry you, she's at your service

Sage is now significantly more mortified at the fact Anisa just yote him. He tries to play it off but his face is bright red and his tail keeps twitching. You hardly even get a word out before he starts loudly proclaiming that Anisa Is A Dirty Cheat! And He Totally Wouldn't Have Lost If She Had Played Fair! As if you haven't seen him get his ass handed to him multiple times already. Okay Sage. Whatever you gotta tell yourself.

You wave their concerns away and assure them you're fine, just a little antsy. Maybe a spar would help you get your focus back? And obviously your partner jumps at the idea. So game on!

Felix hops up from the bench and takes his place on one end of the little battlefield. Green flames flicker at his fingertips. This will be a good chance to judge how your offensive spellcasting is coming along :)

Anisa takes her position and readies her sword, rattling off a few things for you to remember - stay out of reach of her blade, aim low, etc etc. This can be a good teaching moment. She's a little less concerned about you learning to fight as she is you defending yourself - after all, she's your knight. She'll be there to fight for you :)

Oh, Sage saunters over to his spot, picking the last of the hay from his hair. First one to pin the other wins. Sound good? He's taught you enough that you should have a fighting chance, so long as you don't start overthinking it. Just know that he won't take it easy on you ;3

Alright. You yank your hoodie up over your hea-

Holy fucking shit you're ripped

And you have badass tattoos?

No one was prepared for that. At all.

Felix's flames immediately sputter out. Suddenly he can't look you in the eye. The tips of his ears go pink. He knew you were strong - you've helped him lug around massive piles of books enough times to be sure of that - but he had no idea you'd look like this under your usual baggy attire! He... He wants to see you in a corset. Sorry not sorry.

Anisa nearly drops her sword in surprise. Her pupils do that excited cat-prinpick thing that happens when she's excited, and her hair poofs like fur. Man. She's gonna have to make some adjustments to your training regimen. Which she'll plan out as soon as she stops drooling.

*tail wag tail wag tail wag* Sage Will Not Recover From This Anytime Soon. Suddenly he's a lot more interested in this match, though you get the sneaking suspicion from the flustered-yet-excited look on his face that he's totally gonna let you win because he's horny and wants to be pinned. Obviously he asks if you have more tattoos. He'll show you his if you show him yours.

You try to spar with your partner but,, uh,,,

Felix's spells keep fizzling out because he can't concentrate.

Anisa is so flustered she nearly trips over her own boots.

Sage practically lays down on the floor for you to pin him.

You end up just going to do some stretches and maybe whack a training dummy a few times while everyone (especially your partner) tries to wrap their heads around what they just witnessed.

Sorry your partner is a massive fucking simp

[groggyvanfleet]

Scales // S.F.K

paring: sam kiszka x reader 

a/n: after seeing that tiktok of sam playing i just had to write piano instructor sam 

summary: taking piano lessons was the best thing you could’ve ever done

word count: 1.7k

(warning this 18+ MINORS DNI! includes swearing, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap the willy dont be silly)

When did you even decide to take a piano class? Was it when you would watch tv and hear the beautiful melodies come from their expensive grand pianos? All you could say was you were happy you did. 

Walking inside the building you were instantly met with the sound of a gorgeous song coming from a piano in the distance. Following the sound down the corridor you came to a room filled with an assortment of instruments with a white piano up against the wall, a man with shoulder length hair occupying it, letting his fingers dance across the black and white keys, getting lost in the music. Standing in the doorway you continued watching him, watching the muscles of his back flex under his cable knit sweater with each movement of his arms as they moved to hit the next notes. Hitting the last notes the unknown man finished his song, letting the room go silent till you applauded him, making him whip his body towards you. “That was beautiful.” You said, ending your clapping. The man gave you a warm smile “Thank you, you must be my 3 o'clock appointment.” The man said, standing up from the bench walking over extending a hand out to you which you took, giving it a small shake. “I’m Sam, I'll be your instructor.” 

“So do you have any experience playing?” Sam asked. Shaking your head no he clicked his tongue giving a slight nod with the sound. “Ah I see, okay so I’m gonna get you started on the basics, reading sheet music, scales, all of that. Sounds good?” Standing up from the bench Sam walked over to a small filing cabinet and pulled out a small booklet. Walking back over and setting it open to the first page in front of you. Sam spent some time explaining to you the different notes, how many beats they get, what key is meant to be played in their place. You couldn’t help but steal glances at his face every once in a while, studying his features. He was cute, you had to admit that. His defined jawline, calming brown eyes that you could get lost in forever, small stubble hairs decorating his chin with a mustache to go along with it. Maybe you had a small crush on your piano teacher already. 

You spent the rest of your time with Sam practicing your scales doing them in small increments to not overwhelm you. When 4 o clock rolled around Sam had let you know your time was up. Gathering up your stuff Sam scheduled your next lesson, telling you to go home and practice and that he wanted you to play through all your scales by the next session. The night you went out and bought an electric keyboard set up, making its home in a corner of your living room where you would sit for hours perfecting your scales. 

Showing up to your next lesson with Sam you played through your scales perfectly, getting a good job from Sam. “Wow you’re a fast learner it usually takes people a couple weeks to play through scales.” He praised you, making a blush creep onto your face “Thanks I have a pretty great teacher.” You replied, looking down fiddling hands together with your words making Sam chuckle. Your sessions with Sam went from once a week to twice a week, flying through the booklet he had given you in no time. With each passing week your crush on Sam grew as the more and more time you spent with him. Sam started giving you harder music to play through, deeming you ready for it. Glancing up at the sheet in front of you, positioning your fingers at the right key of the music you let your fingers move across the keys in perfection till you pressed down on the wrong notes making you cringe at the sound and stop playing. “Hey it's okay. Here I'll play that over again and you just watch okay?” Sam said, positioning his fingers. Watching Sam’s fingers flex against the keys as he played weirdly turned you on. Crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure in your core you continued watching his fingers wondering what they would feel like against you, working you to make the same beautiful sounds the piano made. Getting lost in your wild thoughts you were interrupted by Sam snapping his fingers in front of your face trying to get your attention “Y/N pay attention please.” He said in a commanding tone making your thighs clench harder as wetness started to pool in your jeans. “Sorry.” You mumbled out, averting your eyes from his. Turning his body to face you he rested a hand on your shoulder, making you jump from the sudden contact “Hey what's wrong?” a soft expression on his face. Blushing  your mouth opened and closed, not able to find the right words. Deciding you couldn't take it anymore you lurched forward, pressing your lips to Sam’s.

Pulling away, realizing what you had just done you began to apologize profusely “Oh my god Sam I’m so sorry i didn't mean to do th-” Your words cut off by Sam bringing your lips back to his. Your body tensed up, eyes wide with shock before closing them and moving your mouth with his. Sam wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you onto his lap as you cupped his face with your hands. Deepening the kiss Sam snaked his tongue into your mouth, moving it against your own. Pulling away you caught your breath as you stared at him, heat creeping up from your core to your face as Sam smirked at you leaning to ear “I’ve been wanting to do that the day you walked in.” He whispered, hot breath fanning on your neck making you shiver. “Do you want this?” Nodding your head Sam moved his head down, pressing kisses against your neck, lightly nibbling at the skin underneath your ear making you whine out which only egged him on. Not realizing that your hips had begun to slowly grind down on him, small moans filling the room as you moved against him. Sam pulled away, placing his hands on your hips, halting their movement as his eyes ran across your face. “What is it?” You asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“Just thinking of the ways I can make you cum.” 

Leaning into his ear you dropped your voice to a sultry seductive tone “Flip me around and do it then.” 

Your words must have sparked something in Sam because he was now shooting off the bench, flipping you around, bending you over with your chest hitting the keys of the piano making a screeching sound at the contact. Pressing his hips against your ass you could feel his hard cock pressing into you through your jeans. Snaking his hands around Sam popped open the buttons of your jeans, sliding them down your legs as he dropped to his knees, hands kneading the skin on your ass. “God you’re so perfect.” Sam mumbled, pressing kisses on your skin. Taking one of his fingers he moves your panties to the side, running the tip of his finger over your slit, spreading the wetness that had collected from earlier. “What’s got you so wet baby?” Sam asked, using the same finger to now rub small, slow circles on your clit. A high pitched whine leaves your throat as he continues his movements, pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. “Come on, pretty girl, use your words,” Grinding down onto Sam's finger, you moaned out “Watching your fingers as you played.” Smirking and taking the finger that was working your clit away you whined out at the loss but not before he entered two fingers into you. Letting your head fall forward as Sam moved his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion you couldn't stop the pornographic sounds that left you, the tips of his fingers repeatedly brushed against your most sensitive spot making your knees buckle a knot form in the pit of your stomach. “Gonna cum Sam.” You moaned out, your warning made Sam remove his fingers. 

Hearing shuffling behind you and the sound of a belt hitting the floor, indicating Sam had taken off his pants. Sam returned bare cock now pressing against your sopping core. Taking your panties down your legs, joining them with your pants. Sam took the tip of his cock running it through your folds before slipping himself into you. Once he bottomed out, staying for a few moments as you adjusted he started a relentless pace, making your body rock into the piano in front of you, the wood creaking as it moved with the motion. “You’re so fucking tight oh my god.” Sam groaned out, rocking his hips faster, fingers gripping your hips so hard you won't be surprised if you have little bruises tomorrow. Gripping onto the edges of the piano, the feeling of Sam’s cock pounding into you made your mind go blank and incoherent words of praise leave your lips. Sam ran a hand down your spine settling it on the small of your back as his hips continued to rock into “Am I making you go cock dumb pretty girl? My cock feels that good in your pussy?” Sam grunted out. Nodding your head lazily, unable to answer his question, he laughed out bringing his chest against your back while bringing the hand that was on your back to find your clit, adding more pleasure to the fire. “You gonna cum on my cock Y/N? You wanna be my good girl don’t you?” Crying out at his words “Yes Sam w-wanna be your good girl please make me cum.” Moving your hips to meet his Sam picked up his pace as well as moving his fingers faster on your clit sending you spiraling, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your climax washed over you, making you spasm around him, Sam grunting as you clenched around him sending him into his own orgasm as he emptied himself inside you with a moan of your name. Pulling out of you, a small amount of Sam’s cum leaking out of you, making him growl at the sight he reached down bringing your panties and jeans back up your legs to stop anymore from escaping. “Gotta keep it all in there.” Sam said with a pat to your ass. Getting himself redressed he helped bring you off the piano, a hand stroking the side of your face. “I’d like to actually take you out sometime,” 

“I’d very much like that.” You answered with a smile.

taglist: @abbygvf @soul-0f-sunshine @janegvf @gretavanhoney @gretavanfleas @teddiie @screechesincoherently @idk-maddie @fleetsonfire @amouratomique @capturethechaos​ @dannythedog​ @bumblebeeswrite​ @dakotadovato 

[curmudggeon]

Southern Hope (Arthur Morgan x Female Reader)

❝ If by any chance...in another lifetime, we happen to see each other again, I'll come and find you. And I'll make you fall in love with me, over and over again ❞

In which romance novelist, Mary-Beth under the pen name of Leslie Dupont, writes a coming of age love story based on her favourite gang members in the past, You and Arthur.

Trigger Warnings; Violence | Blood | Angst | Sexual Intentions

A/N: This is a project I've been working on for quite a while. I had the idea in mind when I had the chance to experience the musical composition of Aaron Copland's quintessential American Dream, 'Appalachian Spring' -one of my favourite pieces with such a beautiful storyline. And I wanted to retell it in the form of a book that is available on my Wattpad (ongoing) for you to enjoy from Mary-Beth's POV. I hope you show love to this book as much as I loved writing it. Have a sneak peek at the prologue!

Read on Wattpad here for more chapters to come!

PROLOGUE

Leslie Dupont; Mary-Beth Gaskill

Lemoyne, Saint Denis

November 1907

-

“Mademoiselle Dupont, we expect your next manuscript to be submitted by next summer. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.”

Here we go again

Mary-Beth sighed as her editor, Céline Laurent, had warned her once more for not meeting the deadline to her books. She was in a crucial position in her life. After her debut as a romance novelist, The Lady of The Manor was an instant best-seller across the country. It was the kind of thing she specializes in, silly ol’ romances.

“I promise you, I’ll get it done by then.” Or maybe, at least not for now. She shouldn't have promised something she couldn’t keep, especially in the meantime.

“I’ll take your word for that, if you don’t meet the deadline by then. Y’know what will happen to your contract, Leslie.” Céline stood at the door frame of Mary-Beth’s office with hands on her hips and raised eyebrows.

She knew exactly what she had meant. In fact, she knew the consequences on the back of her head when she first signed that contract with her publishing company. Two more books were requested of her. Or else she would be evicted of her apartment and be forced to live along the streets of Saint Denis for the rest of her life. A life of luxury slipping between her fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary-Beth disclaimed, the moment her editor slammed the door as she left her office. Heaving yet another exaggerated sigh, she crosses her arms on the grand rosewood desk, flopping her head on top of it. “What am I going to do now…” She murmured into the crevice of her arms.

Mary-Beth was in the middle of a major writer’s block for a few months now. She lost sight of that imaginative space of hers, consisting of the most swoon-worthy romances to the picture-perfect life she portrayed through her characters. A part of Mary-Beth that her readers absolutely adored. But, her head was now a clouded space of everlasting void. It was difficult for Mary-Beth to come into terms of writing again, but she couldn’t quite identify what had put her into this position.

Once she gathered the courage to write again, it all came crashing down like violent tidal waves when she came face to the daunting blank page of nothingness —almost drowning her.

It was as simple as that. Come to work, have a cup of tea, sit down, and a blank page.

Every. Damn. Time.

Maybe it was because she was already nearing her mid-thirties, and she hasn’t found someone to sweep her off her feet. Maybe it was when she first held Tilly’s baby that she found the need to be a mother someday. Maybe it was the overwhelming response towards her writing, she felt the need to hide away into an abyss. Or maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about the time she had come across John again after so many years that the memories just come flooding back.

Or maybe, just, maybe. It was because it’s November.

The most dreaded time of the year. November, in which the seemingly fearsome Van der Linde gang had officially broken up. Guns were fired, ties were broken and deaths were grieved. An unforgettable, painful memory.

She would often think about campfire songs, the girls and, Miss Grimshaw’s constant nagging about undone chores. Oh, how best of friends Céline and Miss Grimshaw would have been if she had heard Mary-Beth had been slacking again. It was her coping mechanism, think more about the good times to get rid of the bad ones.

Mary-Beth remembered when she took in her hands at being a matchmaker. Prancing around the camp, she would eye her two best contenders. You and Arthur.

She knew from the start when you had laid your eyes on each other for the first time, she could see through the inexplicable connection in between. You were both extremely awkward when it came to small-talk or addressing each other as you walked by across camp. However, it never stopped Arthur to come to camp as soon as he could just so he could see you, even just for a second.

The conversation would often start with Arthur while on his way to Dutch’s tent,

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yea sure…”

—and that would be it.

At the same time, every single day, at the course of sunset.

You poor socially inept fools.

Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen would always see the interaction happen in the middle of their afternoon chores. Grinning from ear to ear. They would elbow each other whenever there was something different about the correspondence.

One time, you would walk past him, suddenly kissing him on the cheek and scurrying away.

Arthur would stop in his tracks, stunned, with a hand-over where your kiss tingled on his skin. Then he would look back at you as you laid down, smiling to yourself against a tree with a book in your hands. And Dutch would yell his name, knocking him out of his stupor before he noticed he was staring for a little too long.

The girls would start applauding for your heroic performance, it was like a groundbreaking plot twist Mary-Beth couldn’t wait to write about when the idea came into mind.

The both of you were like a walking excruciating slow, slow-burn romance novel. That was when Mary-Beth would cue in her entrance as matchmaker as soon as the interaction slowly died down. Your story had to have a happily ever after in her book.

She would pester you and Arthur separately, mentioning each other’s names and slipping in hints of romantic intentions from the other side so the both of you can address whatever this relationship was.

Mary-Beth knew it was a mission accomplished the night Sean was rescued back to Horseshoe Overlook. When she stood aside of the camp watching Dutch and Molly ballroom dancing into the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of you and Arthur behind them. Running into the woods, hand in hand, giggling to yourselves like prepubescent teenagers.

After that night, it was a considered job well done when your chance encounters slowly turned into planned ones. He would take you on dates, and you would show him affection like nobody’s business. A perfect couple, your American dream.

Until it became a nightmare.

And Arthur had passed,

your Arthur.

Ever since then, Mary-Beth wondered what had happened to you. Were you still alive after all these years? She couldn’t imagine how hard you must be coping with the news. Or what if you didn’t know at all? Even when she asked John and Tilly, they said you disappeared that night he passed.

Not even a single trace. Where were you?

Mary-Beth dismissed the thought out of her head, lifting her head away from the desk. She had to let go of these memories for her own well-being. For what seemed like yesterday were merely years ago. But it couldn’t have hurt to reminisce just a bit, for old times sake.

The story of You and Arthur was unwritten, left to collect dust from the lack of content. The perfect example of a sepia-tinted photograph, forgotten. Mary-Beth believed the both of you deserved something much more than a devastating ending. She wasn’t as ruthless as the other authors she had met that held an iron fist when killing off their characters. Mary-Beth wasn’t like that.

And the idea came to mind. She was a romance novelist for a reason; to fulfil all the possibilities for the unconditional love you shared.

And so Mary-Beth picked up her beautiful fountain pen,

She began to write on the great desk in her quiet room.

To write the most beautiful story of the century,

You and Arthur. Arthur and you.

A perfect couple. The American Dream.

A life that could have been so much more,

A life to remember…

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: taking Wanda to meet your parents wasn't the best decision in hindsight...

warning/s: none i don't think?

author's note: i’m not sure what to say other than sorry in advance oops

part one | part two | part three | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

The restaurant my parents chose wasn't too flashy but rather comforting and homely, with an Italian theme and matching cuisine. It was bustling with people, but it didn't take long for Wanda and I to find my parents sat at the back waiting for us.

"You gonna be okay?" I asked, glancing at her with a comforting squeeze of the hand.

"I've got you, haven't I?" she asked playfully, her accent thicker than usual as she spoke. And though she was joking, I knew there was truth to her words which sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

"You're cute," I said with adoration, appreciating how lovely her eyes looked in the dimly-lit restaurant. "Come on."

Hand in hand, we approached my parents' table and I had hopes that tonight would go well. My parents weren't exactly intimidating – at least anyone I'd ever known hadn't got that impression – but I still worried for Wanda. Unlike her, I couldn't read minds, so I couldn't tell if she was actually looking forward to tonight or if she was just doing it for me.

"Y/N, you're here!" my mum exclaimed with a grin when she spotted me.

"I am," I said with a nervous smile, before motioning to Wanda. "And so is Wanda, my girlfriend."

"Yes, Y/N mentioned you would be coming," my mum said with a friendly smile, looking to Wanda, before motioning to the table. "Please, sit, sit."

I squeezed Wanda's hand gently before pulling out a chair for her. She smiled at me appreciatively before I took a seat beside her, facing my parents.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Wanda," my dad said with a nod. "Y/N mentioned you plenty of times when we'd call to catch up with her."

"You, too," Wanda spoke politely. "Both of you. Y/N told me that you're travelling the world, is that right?"

I leaned on my hand and glanced at Wanda, who shot me a mischievous smile. Quirking a brow, I mentally applauded her. Getting my parents to talk about their travels was an easy way of bonding with them – they would tell every server and customer in this restaurant about their travelling if they could. She'd cracked them instantly.

I'm just that good, milashka (cutie).

Trying not to laugh as her words echoed in my mind because of her powers, I leaned back into my seat and listened in as my parents went into a ramble about their ongoing adventures. This was pretty much how the rest of the evening went, as the four of us dined on expensive wine and delicious pizza. They seemed to be getting along well, with Wanda asking all the right questions and giving them her picture-perfect smile that impressed all the elders. Heck, she was even impressing me.

Naively, I appreciated how well the evening was going until my parents decided to talk to Wanda about her career.

"So, Y/N mentioned you're one of those Revengers," my mum remembered as we ate.

"Avengers," I corrected her, mildly embarrassed.

Wanda chuckled, glancing at me, before nodding. "Yes, I am. For over a year now, I've been working with them."

"Them being Iron Man, Captain America, the Black Widow...?" my dad asked, looking up as if trying to remember the rest, further embarrassing me.

"Those are the ones," Wanda quipped with a nod.

My mum hummed in response as my dad nodded before leaning back in his seat and eyeing Wanda curiously.

"I can't imagine your job is the safest," he began. "You protect people from threats, right? Keep them safe."

Wanda seemed caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "It's got it's... dangers, yes. But I can handle myself. I've got powers and I know how to use them."

"You do," my dad agreed, before his eyes flickered to me briefly. "But Y/N doesn't. She's just a regular human."

I set my fork down on my plate and looked to him calmly. "Dad, what are you saying?"

"No, it's fine," Wanda said reassuringly, resting her hand on my leg under the table. I grabbed it and held it as she continued to speak to my father. "Y/N doesn't have powers, you are correct."

"And dating an Avenger, I can imagine, must put a huge target on her back," he said with concern, and my mum nodded in agreement. "How can we be certain that she is safe?"

"Dad!"

"Your father is right, Y/N," my mum said, giving me a look, before her expression softened as she looked to a startled Wanda. "We're not implying that you're incapable, Wanda. We can clearly see that you care about our daughter. And you're a lovely person. You're pretty much perfect."

Wanda swallowed hard. "But?"

My mother frowned. "But dating you is bound to put our Y/N in danger. She could get hurt just for being involved with you, with your friends. She doesn't have powers to protect herself. And I can't imagine you're around her all the time to keep her safe."

As angry as I was at my parents for saying this stuff – even if they were saying it out of love – memories of the incident flashed to mind. They were right, but it was a risk I'd accepted when dating Wanda. What good was it doing by bringing this up now?

Noticing Wanda's silence, I spoke up instead. "I appreciate your concern, guys, but I'm an adult. I understand the danger I may be put in by being with Wanda. But I love her and I know that she is here for me if anything were to ever happen."

"We know," my father said, giving me a small nod. "We just thought we'd share our opinion anyway. It's been weighing on us for a while is all."

I sighed quietly. I couldn't exactly fault them for that.

"Anyway, never mind that," my mum said, setting down her fork. "Now that we've got that out the way, let's order some dessert, yeah? Our treat."

Nodding, I let my parents get excited as they perused the dessert menus before them. Instead, I looked to the quiet brunette beside me and saw how lost in thought she was, eyes focused on the table and stuck in a daydream.

With the hand that was holding hers, I patted her hand with my thumb to earn her attention. She looked up suddenly, questioning gaze falling to me. I frowned and quirked a brow, wondering if she was okay. She forced a smile my way, squeezing my hand reassuringly, but I didn't believe her. I also couldn't question it right in front of my parents, so I decided to speak with her later.

Dessert went by quickly as Wanda, suddenly, wasn't very talkative. I didn't know if my parents noticed, but I sure did and I felt extremely guilty. If I had known of my parents' concerns, I never would have brought Wanda to meet them tonight.

After the evening came to a close and we all stepped out of the restaurant, I expected to be going home with my parents since we lived together, but they claimed they had more plans together tonight.

"Wow, you guys have more of a social life than we do," I joked when they told me to make my own way home.

Wanda barely smiled and I felt bad.

"We'll be back in a few hours," my mum promised, before pulling me in for a hug. "Tonight was fun. A great final night before we leave tomorrow."

I returned the hug and as I gave my dad one, I heard Wanda thanking my mum for the lovely evening halfheartedly. After saying our final goodbyes, Wanda led me to her car in silence, giving me time to try and put some jumbled thoughts together coherently.

As she had been for the past hour, Wanda was quiet on the drive back to my place. Whenever I would glance in her direction, she'd be chewing on her lip and focusing on driving, though the blank expression on her face made me think that maybe she was distracted. It didn't take a genius to know she was thinking about my parents' words and I suddenly felt guilty for putting that all on her.

"I'm sorry," I blurted halfway through the journey. "I'm sorry for what they said. It wasn't fair of them, I know that. They just... they meant well, Wanda, they really did." I tucked my hands under my thighs, wincing as their words echoed in my mind. "It doesn't change anything though, y'know? We're still us. We're still okay. I don't want you to feel like anything's changed because it hasn't."

I paused, swallowing hard, and glanced her way. She didn't even look my way, still in the same position as she was before I started to speak. Looking back to the road ahead, I let out a disappointed sigh, figuring she wasn't in a talking mood. I didn't blame her, but I hoped she would have understood what I meant.

The remainder of the drive was like this, Wanda deep in thought and me huddled under an imaginary blanket of guilt. When we finally reached my house, she turned the engine off and I waited for her to say something, literally anything. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel mindlessly and I figured she was out of words for tonight.

"I'll ring you in the morning," I mumbled quietly, opening the car door. "If you want to speak, that is."

Leaving her there, I grabbed my bag and headed to the front door, but stopped when I heard her get out the car, too. Waiting, I turned around and watched as she approached me, eyebrows knitted in thought.

"Please say something," I said with pleading eyes.

She licked her lips, biting her lower lip so hard I'm surprised she didn't draw blood. Finally, she released it and looked to me with apologetic eyes.

"Your parents were right," she said.

I blinked with confusion. "What?"

She nodded, looking down at her shoes momentarily. "They were right, what they said. My life puts you in danger."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, crossing my arms. "I knew that when I got with you, but that doesn't change anything."

She gave a disbelieving smile. "Seriously? Y/N, that changes everything."

"No, it doesn't," I told her sternly, growing frustrated. "This is the stuff you sacrifice when you love someone."

She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. "You shouldn't have to."

"But I chose to," I said, clenching my jaw.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" she asked, stepping forward and holding my hand. "The incident?"

"We said we wouldn't talk about that," I reminded her with a low voice.

"But you remember, right? When they took you and I wasn't there? They could've hurt you!"

"Shut up!" I told her, raising my voice. Pulling my hand away from hers and taking a step back, I continued, "Why are you saying that? You came! You helped me!"

"But what if they did something to you before I got there?" she snapped. "What if I hadn't got to you on time?"

The memories came spilling into my mind, escaping the locked box I kept them in. Tears burned the corner of my eyes as I tried to think about anything else.

"You remember how scared you were?" Wanda asked, frowning at me with exasperated eyes. "You couldn't be by yourself for weeks!"

"Why are you doing this?!" I yelled, clenching my fists. "Why are you trying to frighten me?!"

"Because you should be frightened!" she retorted, stepping closer to me. Her dark green eyes were swirling storms of rage as she added, "It could happen again!"

I shoved her away from me, pinching the bridge of my nose with annoyance. Tears slipped from my eyes at the terrifying memory of what happened, what could have gone wrong, but I ignored them as I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Why the hell was she acting like this? Making me so angry at her for no reason?

"It's not even just that," she continued, jaw tensed. "How many times do I get hurt because of work and you get worried?"

"That's because I care about you," I muttered through stinging eyes.

"This will always be my life," she said, a hint of regret in her words as she looked to me. "I can't change it."

"I'm not asking you to!"

"Exactly! You're not! Which means you'll suck it up and stay with me and will live your life in constant concern for my well-being. It's not right."

I opened my mouth to respond because what she was saying was entirely stupid. But my emotions got the better of me and no words came out. Instead, my bottom lip quivered as I sucked up a breath.

"I need time to think," she suddenly said, anger disappearing from her voice and being replaced with an astute calmness.

My gaze snapped her way and through blurry vision, I watched her step back with her hands on her hips.

"So you can what – think about breaking up with me?" I said bitterly, and despite my anger, I didn't expect her to look at me with a softened expression, meaning my words were correct.

"Maybe it's better that way, Y/N," she said gently, eyes meeting mine.

I squeezed my hands together and tried to breathe through the pent-up anger that she'd caused, but the longer she stared at me, waiting for a response, the more I wanted to explode.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered, scrunching my eyebrows together.

She pressed her lips together, looking away, and it only pissed me off more.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wanda?!" I yelled. "You're quitting on our relationship because, what, you think I'm in danger? Well, news flash, honey, the worst already happened and I'm still here!"

She barely flinched as she avoided my eyes.

"You're a fucking coward!" I said, pointing at her. "If you needed an excuse to end things, you could have just said so!"

Breathing out, I wiped my tears away shakily. I expected her to argue back, to realise she'd made a mistake and regretted her words, but as I waited, I knew she was certain of her decision.

"Fine," I settled, brimming with rage. "Fuck off, Wanda."

Still, nothing.

Turning on my heel, I stormed to my front door and went through my keys with difficulty, hands shaking with anger. I heard Wanda's car door shut from behind me but didn't bother turning around. I clearly didn't need to as I heard the tyres screech against the road and knew she was gone.

Kicking my door with frustration, I found the key and opened up before heading inside and slamming the door behind me. How dare she break up with me because of something that I chose off my own back! She just gave up like we meant nothing to her, not even bothering to talk things out with me! And selfishly, she left me feeling pissed and resenting her more than I ever thought I would.

"What a bitch!" I shouted into the empty house, throwing my keys to the side harshly.

When they clinked against glass, I looked up and saw the vase of flowers Wanda had given me before dinner.

"The first and fucking last," I said dryly, before grabbing ahold of it and throwing it against the wall without thinking.

The glass shattered on impact, leaving a mess of water, flowers and small shards on the wooden floor. I looked at it, the brokenness resembling how my heart felt. As the adrenaline of my actions and previous angry words wore off, all that was left was hurt and pain and oh God, Wanda was gone. She'd left me. She'd given up.

I sank to the floor, pulling my legs up to my chest, and hugged them tightly. Stifling my cries, I dug myself into my knees and felt a pain in my heart. Why didn't she fight for us? Did she not love me enough? Was I not enough?

—

"You ignored the memes I sent you, I thought you died."

As Natasha pushed right past me and into my house, I blinked with disbelief.

"Sure, come right in," I mumbled sarcastically, closing the front door.

Following after Natasha, I found her making herself at home in the living room, plonking herself on the couch and pulling her feet up comfortably.

"You could have sent an emoji or something," she continued, giving me a knowing look. "They were some good memes."

"Well, forgive me if I wasn't in the mood," I said sourly, joining her on the couch.

Her playful smile faded as she picked up on my words. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned my elbow on the back of the couch, getting comfortable. It had been two weeks since Wanda broke up with me and in those two weeks, I hadn't been doing particularly well. I guess you could say I was still in a slump. A horrible, tiresome, angry, sadness-filled slump.

"I'm fine."

She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue, but thankfully, she didn't. I was glad – the last thing I wanted was to prove that I was okay when, really, all I wanted to do was curl in a ball and suffocate under my duvet.

"I'm sorry," she said, resting her hand on mine. "If it's any consolation, I think Wanda made a huge mistake."

"Ah, so she told you," I said with a nod of realisation. I hadn't told Natasha the specifics of why we broke up, but clearly Wanda did. I guess it made sense – they were teammates. If anything, I was surprised Natasha still wanted to speak to me, instead expecting her to side with her friend.

"She did," Natasha answered. "And I think she's an idiot, but that's not my business. I just came here to make sure you were okay."

"Really? I thought you wanted to show me the memes," I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.

She chuckled, slapping my hand gently. "That, too... but seriously."

My smile faded as I looked down, my finger playing with my trousers distractedly. "I'm not okay, but I'll get there." I began to glare at my trousers, my anger for the witch returning. "I have to be. Because she doesn't want me anymore... fuck her."

"I'd rather not," Natasha mumbled.

Though my anger was present, making me tense like it had been the last few weeks, I couldn't help but smile at Natasha's words. Then laughter bubbled from my lips and for the first time since Wanda left, I felt momentarily happy.

"I'm glad we can still be friends," Natasha said, making me look to her with a smile. "I know that you and Wanda are over now... but I still like hanging out with you."

"Me, too," I said in agreement. "Thanks for coming to check in. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did." She nodded before offering me a small, encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, y'know."

I wanted to believe her, but despite how pissed I was at Wanda, I still loved her. And I couldn't imagine stopping, though I knew I'd have to if I was to make it through this.

—

Getting over Wanda was a difficult process. Everything I felt was a mixture of resentment, exhaustion and misery because I missed her. I missed being able to call her when I saw somebody do something stupid in public; I missed kissing her when I hadn't seen her in a long time; I missed hearing her adorable accent first thing when I woke up after she spent the night; I missed her.

Two months followed the breakup and the only time I'd see her was when she'd dodge Anna's apartment upon knowing I was going to take care of her. I guess I was glad in that sense, as it meant I wouldn't have to deal with her awkwardly. But it also made me feel like shit because it meant she didn't care about me at all. Clearly our breakup wasn't affecting her like it did with me.

And it was definitely affecting me.

I was scrolling through Instagram one day when I saw a particular post on my feed from Natasha's account. Yeah, one of the Avengers had a private Instagram account. She gave me her username when she saw me on it one day and I remember being so confused to how she had it.

"I'm an Avenger, not a hermit," was her response, and from that day onwards, we followed each other.

So, I saw a post on her Instagram and it was some goofy photo of her, Tony, Bruce and Wanda. They were posing with exaggerated smiles as Natasha grinned up front; the caption said something about working long days, but I wasn't paying much attention as, naturally, my gaze fell to Wanda.

Just like everyone else, she had a playful, exaggerated smile on her lips like nothing kept her down, but what stood out was the sling around her arm and the cast underneath. It must have happened in a mission or something and it wasn't my business, but I couldn't help but worry. Was she okay? Was she looking after herself? I wanted to text Natasha and ask, but I stopped myself.

She'd broken up with me for this very reason. I wasn't agreeing with it, but for a second, I did see why she'd made her point. It still wasn't fair though. She didn't get to make that choice for me.

We weren't together anymore, I reminded myself. She broke up with me. It had been two months and I needed to let go. If she didn't care about me, why should I waste my time and energy caring about her?

Not letting it get to me anymore, I simply liked the post before continuing my scrolling. Though I knew that deep down, her face was imprinted in my mind and I still worried for her well-being.

—

The fourth month following our breakup was when I properly saw Wanda again, excluding the times she would duck out of Anna's apartment upon my arrival to care for her. It was also the first time since the breakup that Wanda made the effort to speak to me.

I was sat eating dinner on my day off when I got a call from the hospital nearby, interrupting my meal. The nurse was explaining how Anna had fallen over and hurt her back and was now in a hospital room. She was calling me because she thought I'd like to know since I was her registered nurse and carer. I was glad to get the call, immediately pulling my shoes and coat on and rushing over there to make sure she was okay. She didn't have anyone else apart from Wanda and I – it was no question I had to go.

Though, of course, I didn't really think about the fact that Wanda may be there until I saw her there. I also didn't consider the fact that I was wearing my pyjamas when I stepped in the lift and headed to Anna's floor. Too late now.

After asking the receptionist where Anna's room was, I found Wanda hanging around it outside the door. With only Anna on my mind, I approached her and tried to hide my panic. She spotted me instantly, stopping her pacing and looking to me with tired eyes and a frown on her face.

I didn't care that she looked worried, nor that she was holding up well since we last spoke in anger. I didn't care that she'd dyed her hair a reddish-brown colour, nor that she managed to pull off both that and the whole 'loungewear' look in a place surrounded by blinding white and blue. I didn't care that my heart ached when her green eyes found mine, nor that I missed seeing her so close and not in my dreams for once. I didn't care about any of it. Or, at least, I tried to tell myself that.

"What happened?" I cut straight to the point, stopping in front of her. "Is Anna okay?"

Wanda nodded instantly. "She's fine. She tripped over her dining room chair and hurt her back. The doctors just checked her out and said it's nothing too serious, but she won't be able to walk for a while."

I pressed my lips together, feeling the panic wear off at the sound of good news. Anna had always been more than just a patient to me and the last thing I wanted was to hear she'd hurt herself badly.

"Can I see her?" I asked Wanda, quirking a brow.

"Yeah, of course," Wanda said, before looking away awkwardly. "I was just waiting out here for you. The nurse said you were coming."

I chose to say nothing as I walked past her and into Anna's room, seeing the older woman laying on a hospital bed and staring at the ceiling. When she noticed my presence, she smiled at me and motioned for me to join her side.

"It's so good to see you, milaya (sweetie)," she said happily, as I stopped by her side, "but you didn't have to come! I'm not dying."

I heard Wanda enter the room behind me, but she took a seat on the chairs opposite the bed. Ignoring her, I smiled down at Anna and grabbed her hand.

"Don't say that," I told her gently. "Of course I'm here. You're my number one priority. I had to make sure you were okay!"

Anna waved her hand in typical Anna fashion. "I've suffered worse. I'm absolutely fine."

I knew it was best not to question her, so I didn't.

"I'm glad you're both here," she said, looking between Wanda and I, making me swallow awkwardly.

Since breaking up, I hadn't mentioned it to Anna, but she wasn't stupid and she'd clearly noticed that we weren't spending time together anymore. I didn't know if Wanda had told her, but if she had, Anna never mentioned anything. Like now, she simply looked between us both with a grateful smile, unaware of how awkward we felt.

Thankfully, the awkward silence was interrupted when a doctor walked in the room. After introducing herself, I asked if I could speak to her outside about Anna and she happily obliged. She told me about Anna's condition and how it would affect the way I cared for her, especially regarding her new medication, and I asked anything and everything to make sure she was truly okay. After being reassured that she was, I thanked the doctor and returned to Anna's room, only to find Wanda and Anna in a heated a argument.

I couldn't tell what had got them so fussy as they were bickering in Russian, sentences too fast for me to comprehend with my limited knowledge of the language. It got to a point where Anna began slapping Wanda on the arm, looking angrier than ever, so I stepped between them and pulled Wanda away.

"What the hell is going on here?" I interrupted, holding Anna's slapping hand down to the bed and raising a hand to keep Wanda at bay. I looked between them, seeing the frustration in both their expressions, and asked questioningly, "Well?"

Wanda said nothing, eyes avoiding mine as usual, so I looked down to Anna who was glancing between us before spouting off into another ramble in Russian, trying to grab Wanda so she could yell at her directly. To my annoyance, Wanda tried to push past me, yelling back, and I was unfortunately caught in the middle as I attempted to keep them from ripping each other's throats out.

Thankfully, their bickering came to a halt when an unknown voice called into the room: "What is going on in here?"

I looked to the door, following the mystery voice, and saw a young woman, maybe in her thirties, standing in the doorway and looking between the three of us with confusion. I had no idea who she was, though she seemed familiar. Judging from the confusion Wanda had, she didn't seem to know either.

"Sasha," Anna breathed out with surprise, and then I realised. That was Anna's granddaughter. "What are you doing here?"

[anna1306]

What if one night the lost boys (poly) went out to hunt, s/o not feeling particularly hungry decided to stay behind, Star and Laddie deciding to stay behind too, once the boys are gone star and s/o talk and it comes up that s/o was once an opera singer. Which causes both Laddie and Star to ask to hear them sing which they do, none of them knowing or hearing the boys just arriving back to the cave

Poly!Lost Boys x Opera Singer Reader

So, alone evening. Boys are out hunting, Star still not wanting to turn, and you are not particularly hungry. You have adapted to the rules and loved blood, but... Still to the boys it is more like game than looking for food, and you aren't that excited about running after humans and ripping them to pieces. You just let them do them, while sometimes going with them.

So, you talk, while Laddie also runs around, having a lot of energy that goes nowhere. You sit on a couch, wel... It's more like laying down, with your head tilting from the couch, and your legs on the back of it. Star just sits in one of the chairs, asking you questions.

What's your age, how long you are with the boys, e.c. She's interested, of course, so you are not tired to answer her. Besides, guys were always running around or teasing her so you were practically the only source of information they had.

I don't understand. You had everything and you left it all for... This? The emotions and feelings I get it, but... You had study, you had friends, you had career and leave it all for the cave and bikes...

Oh, please... Study is good if you're going to make it your life and not every time it gives you anything. Plus what career? Opera is very competitive, the girls there will do anything to get your role, and I mean anything. And singing in the road bars... I tried, look who got me and where I am now, - you giggle, not noticing her surprised face at first.

Wait... Did you say opera? You are opera singer?!

Don't look at me like that... Upside down this looks frightening. But yes, I am, studied almost 7 years for this and before that in music school.

What is opera? - Laddie calms down a little and sits near you. You smile at the boy brightly.

It's an art. A great art, when people sing gorgeous songs. Not screaming like Paul does, but singing, almost like living a life on a scene...

Sounds complicated... But interesting, can you sing to us? - boy asks, making you freeze in surprise.

Yes! Please. Imagine that this is concert hall, I bet, acoustic here is better than there! - Star laughs, encouraging you. You think for a moment, really embarrassed that your conversation came to this.

You sigh and stand up, deciding for it. From this position it takes you nearly couple of minutes, but you stand up and think what you can do. You haven't sing for a while and blood diet and living in a cave not necessarily good for the voice, so... It is a tough choice.

Finally, making your choice and stopping on not so hard, neutral aria, you cough, almost theatrically and bow with a smile before Star and Laddie, who came to his "sister". They applaud, smiling too, for them it is fun. To you it is fun too, but you are nervous.

But when you start singing, it seems like you have never stopped. You remember the melody, remember the lyrics, remember everything. You feel like you are once again on the scene, singing for some professors and crowd of people. You feel the same emotions, anxiety, but happiness at the same time.

You sing almost on one breath, it felt like it. You have lost in the melody completely. When you finish, you stand with your eyes closed, trying to calm yourself down just from all the feelings. You open your eyes only when Laddie starts clapping. You smile to him and bow once more. Star looks like she was reliving some emotions too.

It was amazing...

You shiver and turn around. The boys stand at the entrance. Paul seems like he has a brain short-circuit, while Marko looks at you agape. David, who said that, comes closer to you and kisses you slowly.

Why didn't you sing earlier, kitten...

I... - you blush a little. - Actually I did. Paul heard me at the bar he met me.

Me?! Shit I must have been high, I'm an idiot! - he finally unfreezes.

You are, - Dwayne simply nods and comes closer to you, hugging you, as David goes to his chair. - Sing more, princex, please. It's perfection...

Yeah, sing again, like now! - Marko adds, looking very excited about that. - Pleeeeeease.

You... Really liked it? I haven't sang in a while, my voice isn't the same...

Your voice is so smooth and soft. We love it, please... - Dwayne kisses you on the forehead. You look at them. Marko and Paul already take their "places", sitting at the "living zone", Laddie runs up to you.

Yeah, please, Y/N, I love it! More than Paul's lullaby! - at that Paul acts all wounded up, but you only giggle. Dwayne takes Laddie in his hands and smiles at you. At this you feel at ease. You have missed singing, not sure if they would like it in this closed space. But one look at them and there are no doubts.

Sing for us... Songbird, - almost whispers David, and you smirk as an answer before responding with a song.

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; prologue

Pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x fem!reader

Next Chapter

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: kinda long for a prologue, fluff, not really much but please let me know if anything in this upsets you. 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: This is my first Bucky fic, I thought of it last night and I was kind of excited to write it. Sorry if any of the information is wrong as well my knowledge of Ballet and Brooklyn/NY are limited. I’m not sure if there are any similar story types but feel is so please let me know and I’ll tag them for people to read in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy :) Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter. 

Before everything - 1942

“Oh, come on Steve, come to the Ballet with me!” Bucky spoke enthusiastically, his arms pressed again the frame of Steve’s front door. “It’s my last week before I go.”

“And you couldn’t have just chose to go to a bar like any other normal man would a week before going to the war?” Steve responded looking sceptically at his best friend. Someone who he had never known to be interested in ballet.

“Because going to a bar filled with soldiers would be a bright choice for you,” sighed Bucky, “I’d rather not have to get into another fight…” Steve rolled his eyes and pursed his lips waiting for Bucky to continue. “Everyone in New York is talking about the Ballet! Don’t you want to feel cultured?” Bucky exclaimed moving away from the door frame. “Plus!, I got us pretty good seats if I do say so myself, what row was it again…?” He trailed off looking smugly at Steve. “…Oh, that’s right! Row three.”

“Too bad you couldn’t score front row,” responded Steve mimicking Bucky’s cocky attitude. Bucky huffed at his friend’s response. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” laughed Steve, “Fine if the ballet is where you want to go a week before you go, then the ballet is where we’re going, I guess.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up at his friends’ words. “Yes! This is going to be great, a night on the town, just two gentlemen going to see the ballet.” He grinned, Steve noting how happy he seemed to be going to the ballet; he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm”, Bucky spoke turning away from his still sceptical best friend.

“Okay then,” responded Steve watching him walk off.

Just as he’d said, Bucky had picked Steve up the next day, driving them to the theatre and making it there for 6:30. They wandered the foyer looking at all of the people dressed up to watch the performance like them. Many had already been a few times and were raving about what they were most excited for again. For Bucky and Steve though, this is new territory. Both of them glad though that they were doing something new. They made their way into the theatre finding their seats, as everyone began to pile in, ready for the show.

“I’ve heard that the lead female ballet dancer is meant to be very good”, whispered Bucky to Steve as the lights began to dim.

“You mean the Prima Ballerina?” Whispered back Steve correcting him.

Bucky looked at Steve with an amused look. “For someone who didn’t want to come you sure know a lot about ballet”, chuckled Bucky placing his focus back towards the stage.

Steve sighed and looked back at him, “I don’t know a lot of ballet, that’s just common knowled—” He was shushed by Bucky as he tapped him on the shoulder multiple times in order to tell him to be quiet. Steve looked towards the stage again as the orchestra began playing.

Bucky watched as the curtains opened, the stage filled with ballet dancers.

Not long into the performance you would enter, nervous side stage as your friends reminded you of how brilliant you would be. This wasn’t your first time performing but every time was just as nerve-wracking as the last. This was your passion of course, and you wanted nothing more than to be perfect.  You looked down at your tutu, a bright red tutu, a colour that stood out amongst the rest of the cast who were dressed in whites and greens. Even the male lead was only dressed in white. You particularly like your pointe shoes the best; they were a stunning bright red to match the rest of your costume.

Shaken from your thoughts you heard the beginning of your entrance within the music, jumping up and down briefly before getting into position to enter. Then you did, getting into character instantly.

Bucky gasped as his eyes followed you as you entered the stage so gracefully. He had heard you were a magnificent dancer, but he didn’t know you were so beautiful. Composing himself in his seat he watched as you were so engrossed in the music and the dance. It was obvious you loved what you did.

As the ballet continued his eyes never lost focus from you. He even thought there was one time when you had looked at him in the audience, but he knew that couldn’t be true, someone so perfect would never draw their focus from their work to look at him.

Even during the interval Bucky was in his own world as he thought about how captivating you had been. Barely listening but nodding as Steve spoke to him about his thoughts of the show.

When the show finally ended the crowd stood up applauding the performance. Eagerly so did Bucky, Steve following. As you bowed many people threw roses and he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any himself. The curtains closed and the theatre lights slowly came back on.

“Well I must say I did enjoy that,” spoke Steve as they exited the theatre, breaking the silence and pulling Bucky from his thoughts, he stopped walked and looked at Steve.

“Steve, call me crazy but I have to meet her, I have to know her name.”

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Alright pal, why don’t we wait near the door the cast exit from?”

Bucky practically jumped up and down as he followed his friend, who somehow knew where the cast door was, although it wasn’t a hard guess. Just down the alleyway next to the theatre.

-     

After the performance, adrenaline was running through you like crazy. You loved this feeling. Tonight’s audience was marvellous, and they held nothing back when applauding you all for your performance.

When you performed you couldn’t see much of the audience due to the stage lights, but you could see up to around the 4th row. While you had stopped at the end one of your solos in the first act your eyes had briefly stumbled upon a very handsome man with brunette hair. But you didn’t get a great look because as soon as one song ended the next one started.

You had removed your costume and let your hair out of its bun brushing it out and attempting to make it look as presentable as you could. You got into a nice dress which you had arrived in, keeping your makeup on along with your bright red lipstick. Grabbing your bag, you said goodbye to your fellow colleagues as you exited the backstage area and entered the alleyway.

As you got to where the alleyway ended, and the city sidewalk started you were met with the same brunette you had noticed during the show. “Miss, I’m terribly sorry to bother you after your show but I just had to introduce myself to such a beautiful and talented woman.” Rambled Bucky.

You blushed and looked down as your dress, “Why thank you…” you trailed off waiting for the handsome stranger to tell you, his name. He seemed a bit distractedd looking at your eyes that he didn’t catch on though, causing his smaller blonde friend next to him to nudge him.

“Oh, sorry my names Bucky,” he replied letting out a nervous chuckle, “and this is Steve,” gesturing to his best friend.

Steve raised his arm to shake your hand, “Sorry miss but what was your name again? Bucky here forgot to tell me.”

You raised your arm and shook his hand, letting out a giggle over the two men in front of you, “My names y/n”.

You looked back over at Bucky who seemed to be going over something in his brain. “I wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink or some food or something with me?” What Bucky thought would be a confident question turned more into a rambling mess. Gosh he thought you were pretty.

You blushed, “How am I to know you’re not a murderer?” Raising an eyebrow at the nervous man in front of you.

Steve interjected this time, “I can confirm y/n, he’s not a murderer. Honestly, he’s usually a lot better at flirting than this, I’ve never seen him look so nervous.”

Bucky sent a death glare at Steve before looking back at you. You laughed again, grinning ear to ear, “Well I am pretty hungry, so I won’t say no, especially when a ladies’ man is so nervous to talk to me.” You smirked.

Now it was Bucky’s turn to grin, “great!” He responded. “I just have to drop Steve home and then we’re all set… Did you have a car?” He asked.

“Nope,” you spoke back, “so… do you think you’d be able to drop me home afterwards?” you asked, “You know considering I’m being so nice to a stranger.”

“I was going to offer anyway,” he replied signalling you to follow. You chatted with the two men as you walked to the car, when you got there, you insisted Steve sit in the front considering he was being dropped home. Then once you arrived at his, you both said your goodbyes to Steve. “I hope to see you again soon,” you yelled from the car as you sat in the front waving.

Steve waved back, as Bucky drove off to one of his favourite bars/restaurants beeping his horn at Steve as he left.

The rest of the night went smoothly, you both ate and chatted for hours, feeling like time barely existed with one another. It may sound cheesy but both of you felt like you were meant to meet one another. The only downside was that Bucky had told you he would be leaving for the war at the end of week, so you both knew it could never be anything more until at least the war ended.

It wasn’t until you realised the time that you knew you needed to get home, being Prima Ballerina wasn’t an easy job and it required getting at least some sleep. Bucky understood and drove you home continuing to talk about everything together. He even confessed he wished he had of gotten you some roses, to which you responded that how would he have known to do that. Of course, Bucky being a gentleman he still was disappointed he didn’t, even if you didn’t mind.

When you got home you thanked him for the wonderful night. “I’m going to see you again before I go,” he said from in the car, as you stood by the passenger window.

“I hoped you’d say that” you replied, “Good night Bucky,” you blew him a kiss, and his cheeks turned a bright pink.

“Goodnight y/n” he replied, grinning like a fool. He watched you walk into your apartment to make sure you got in safe before driving off. Gosh you were perfect.

-   

It was finally the day he left.

Just like he promised you did see him again. After each show through the week, he would bring you a rose. Each time making you blush.

Most days he just drove you home and you chatted in the car, but a couple of times you got dinner again and made the most of the time you had with your new friend. You wished he didn’t have to go; you wished every time you saw him you could kiss him. But that felt like it would complicate things, you hadn’t known him long enough to put yourself through that kind of heart ache.

You and Steve were at the train station saying goodbye to Bucky. It was hard for Steve, he wanted nothing more than to go with his best friend and fight for his country, but he couldn’t. They didn’t want him.

For you though, you had only known Bucky a week, you had grown so comfortable with him, so it was hard seeing him leave, not knowing if he’d come back. He knew more about you than some of your closest friends that you had known for years, he was just that kind of guy, someone you could trust.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to just grab you and kiss you, but he didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. Steve had told him the day before to just go for it, but he was unsure. He didn’t want to put you through the heart ache. As he picked up his bags, Steve gave him a giant hug, you stepped forward and did the same hoping you wouldn’t have to let him go.

Releasing each other from your embrace, you both looked into each other’s eyes. Your eyes filled with water, and you could tell Bucky was holding back tears.

“Goodbye Steve, goodbye y/n” he spoke sadly as he began to walk towards the train.

Steve looked at you as if to say, ‘are you sure you don’t want to just go for it?’ and you sighed. He was right, what was there to lose? Bugger this you thought, “Bucky!” you yelled running towards him, “You forgot something!” He turned around confused only to be greeted by you grabbing his face and softly yet hungrily pressing your lips to his. He sighed into the kiss dropping his bags, he didn’t push you away instead he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. 

This kiss was nothing like any of the kisses you had experienced before, if fact it made you feel the same way ballet did. It was the same for Bucky, none of the kisses he had ever shared with anyone felt like this.

You finally stopped and parted, resting your foreheads on one another’s.  

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll see you again.” He spoke softly to you.

You stepped back as a few tears fell down your face, nodding. He gave you a charming Bucky smile before picking his bags back up and turning away. You walked back to Steve giving him a hug, as he watched his best friend leave him for the first time in his life.

You wanted nothing more than to believe that you would see each other again.

Little did you know you would, only 72 years later.

Chapter One (next chapter)