#apologies for the afternoon angst I am a Menace

[the-bi-space-ace]

See, I hold back when I write. It could be far angstier than it is. I could be handing out forehead kisses left and right. Forehead kisses as someone cries and bleeds after a battle. Delirious from blood loss and pain and needing reassurance. Forehead kisses when they know their squadmate is going to die. A parting gift. One last way to comfort them, to remind them they’re loved.

I’m just saying I could make things more painful than they already are.

[milswrites]

Happy Ending

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel's brothers remind him that he deserves happiness too.

Warnings: An equal amount of fluff and angst.

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: I wrote this while in a massive slump so I’m scared to post this lol. Consider this my advanced apology in case this isn’t very good.

Azriel was spellbound; the male finding himself unable to do anything but bask in the majesty of your ethereal form. Admiration pooling in the shadowsinger's eyes as he absorbed the enchanting glow of your sun-kissed skin.

He watched you.

Mouth parting in awe as his hazel eyes lingered over your soft figure as you rose from the picnic blanket. Your beauty likening that of the Mother herself as the radiant light of the afternoon sun encircled the crown of your head like a lucent halo.

He watched you.

His usually stoic lips upturned into a gentle smile as a giggling Nyx ran into your waiting arms. Heart fluttering uncontrollably as he watched the young boy place a loving kiss onto your cheek before you reciprocated the gesture with a beaming grin.

He watched you.

Because if he didn't, then he was sure to wake; with you only the object of his wildest dreams.

~~~

"You're staring again," Cassian chimed, a wicked smirk crossing his face as he propped himself up from the blanket he was laying on in order to face a flustered Azriel, "It's starting to get a little creepy."

"I am not staring!" Azriel hissed through clenched teeth. And yet, despite having been called out for it by his brother, Azriel's eyes failed to leave your glowing form as you walked away from where the males were sat to head towards the river's edge alongside Feyre and Nesta.

"Did you know your wings twitch when you're lying brother?" Cassian teased, chuckling as he ducked his head in order to dodge the cushion a disgruntled Azriel had thrown his way. The shadowsinger managing to tear his eyes from you for long enough to send a menacing glare in his brother's direction.

"I mean, can you really blame her for not acknowledging you, Az?" Rhysand asked with a snigger, violet eyes dancing with mirth as he playfully nudged Azriel's shoulder with his own, "it's not your fault that the heir of the Night Court is just as charming as his father."

Unimpressed by Rhysand's egocentric comment, Azriel and Cassian shifted their gaze from where the group of females were playing with Nyx down by the river to look towards each other. Their apathetic brows raising in union before the two males proceeded to launch their cushions at Rhysand's face.

Scoffing at the shrill cry which followed, Azriel shook his head as he turned his attention back to you. The ghost of a smile working its way onto the shadowsinger's lips as he watched you hold on to Nyx's hands in order to steady the child as he paddled in the shallows. His heart swelling at the dulcet sound of your cheery laughter as the squealing boy playfully splashed the flowing water towards you.

Unfortunately Azriel's watchful admiration didn't last for long, Cassian's tentative voice once more breaking the silence of an otherwise peaceful afternoon, "Az ?. . ."

"Don't push me Cass," Azriel warned, eyes rolling as they briefly flickered towards the general in disapproval, "or cauldron help me, that stone Nyx is throwing won't be the only thing sinking to the bottom of the river."

"Oh sure, my lips are sealed," Cassian shrugged dismissively as he moved to lay back down, voice laced with amusement as he offhandedly added, "I won't even mention the fact that your shadows have taken a little trip down to the river to visit a certain someone."

Azriel's attention snapped back towards the body of water where - just as Cassian had noted - two rogue shadows had taken it upon themselves to curl around not only the tiny heir, but also you. The shadowsinger's heart sinking to his stomach as his wide eyes took in the disobedient shadow which had lovingly snaked its way around the curve of your waist.

A sputtering Azriel worked to tug the insubordinate shadow away from you, cursing as it refused to budge from where it was comfortably resting. The smoky tendril seeming to have a mind of its own as it stubbornly ignored its master's fretful call.

This movement didn't go unnoticed by you. Your curious gaze dropping to the shadow which was tenderly embracing your waist, a soft smile gracing your lips as you lifted your bright eyes to meet Azriel's own panicked ones. The bashful male blushing a deep shade of red as you cheerfully waved in his direction.

Azriel sheepishly waved back, a crooked smile stretching across his reddened face as he nervously uttered under his breath, "Cauldron boil me."

"I don't get it," Rhysand started, brows knitting together in confusion as he observed Azriel's failed efforts of trying to reign in his unruly shadows, "you obviously like her, and it's clear your shadows do too . . . So why haven't you done anything?"

"It's never come up," Azriel justified with a shrug, clearing his throat in a poor attempt of acting casual, "we're both busy people, sometimes it's just easier to stay friends."

Cassian snorted at Azriel's words, lips curling into a devilish grin as he chided his brother, "Liar. Your wings are twitching again."

Azriel rolled his eyes, wings curling in defense as he reasoned, "Look I don't even know if she's interested in -"

"Bullshit" Rhysand interjected, scoffing at the inaccuracy of Azriel's traitorous thoughts.

"Rhys-"

"Az, she is totally in love with you."

"But how do you even-"

"Azriel!" Rhysand exclaimed, resting a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder in order to ground him, "only a fool would look at the way she looks at you and think that she doesn't feel the same."

A shaky breath rattled in Azriel's chest, his dejected hazel eyes looking up to meet the violet irises of his brother's concerned stare, "It doesn't matter. Even if she does like me . . . I'm not good enough for her."

"Not good enough?" Cassian questioned with an uncertain laugh, pulling Azriel's attention from Rhysand to himself, "Az, you're a six-foot-four Illyrian with immense power and an - admittedly - impressive wingspan. I think it's safe to say that you're good enough for anyone."

Azriel released a sad laugh at Cassian's misunderstanding, the shadowsinger taking a moment to close his eyes and inhale deeply before speaking, "Thanks Cass, but that's not what I meant. I just . . . I think she deserves someone who is worthy of her love."

"You think you're unworthy?" Cassian asked in surprise, while, in the same breath, Rhysand reassured, "But you are worthy, Az."

"No," Azriel disagreed with a low shake of his head, his sorrowful eyes returning to where you were wading through the water with Nyx safely held between your arms, "she's everything good about the world and I won't ruin that - I can't . . . Sometimes perfect things are better left untouched."

"Az, why would you even think like that?" Cassian pressed in disbelief, hurt crossing his features as he listened to the shadowsinger's deprecating words.

Azriel's brows pulled together in shame, expression forlorn as he began to explain, "The things I've done? . . . The things I'm capable of doing? She doesn't need to be exposed to that life. Cass, she deserves better than me."

Rhysand guffawed at Azriel's remark, his head thrown back in glee as he clutched at his chest. Even Cassian found humor in the situation, the male hiding his deep chuckle behind a half-hearted cough, wiping faux tears from his eyes as the High Lord stated, "That Az, is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"I'm glad you guys find my insecurities amusing."

"We hear you Az - really, we do," Rhysand consoled his brother, the male's laughter simmering into a supportive smile as he rested a comforting hand on Azriel's knee, "I mean, you don't really think that it was easy for us did you?"

His words peaked Azriel's interest, the shadowsinger's pained expression morphing into one of surprised curiosity as he quirked a questioning brow at his brother, "Really? But I thought-"

"Come on Az, be serious. Do you think a day goes by where I truly believe I'm worthy of Feyre?" Rhysand asks, his wistful gaze moving down to the river where a beaming Feyre was teaching an excitable Nyx how to skip stones, "But that doesn't stop me from working my damn ass off every day to try and be the mate that she deserves."

"Yeah, just look at Nesta and I. We're far from perfect," Cassian commented, tears of joy lining the general's eyes upon seeing Nesta's glowing smile as she cheered their nephew on from the river's bank, "we fight like animals half of the time, admittedly it's mostly down to me saying things that I don't mean to say . . ."

As if sensing her mate's loving stare, Nesta's eyes moved to meet his own. The female sending a playful wink Cassian's way, earning a soft chuckle from the male, "but she always makes sure to tell me when I'm out of line, just as she expects me to do the same for her."

Azriel nodded in understanding, the self-placed shame he had once felt due to his lack of self-worth was now directed towards the fact he had never known what obstacles his brother's have had to overcome on their quest for happiness. Guilt swimming in the shadowsinger's eyes as he confessed, "I never knew you guys felt the same way."

Cassian smiled fondly at his brother, a strong arm moving to wrap around Azriel's shoulders as he gave the male a comforting squeeze, "Relationships aren't about one person being more deserving than the other Az, they're about balance . . . They're about loving someone so deeply that you want to make yourself a better person for them."

"You'll get there" Rhysand promised, his confident gaze working to uplift Azriel's spirit, "you just have to believe that you deserve happiness too."

"That sounds easier said than done" Azriel remarked flatly. And yet, despite his words, the shadowsinger was unable to hide the way in which his lips had started to twitch into a hopeful smile.

"It's not when you've found the person worth taking the risk for," Rhysand answered, his eyes shimmering with sincerity as he gestured towards you with his head, "And I think you've already got that bit covered."

A light blush dusted Azriel's cheeks, a timid laugh slipping from the male's lips as his adoring gaze turned back to you, "She is pretty great isn't she?"

"Pretty great?" Cassian asked with a snort, a teasing grin working its way onto the general's face, "Az if you don't ask her out soon, Nesta and I would be more than willing to steal her from you."

Azriel scowled at his brother, eyes narrowing as he opened his mouth to spit back a retort. Yet you beat him to it, the shadowsinger's words catching on the tip of his tongue as your soft voice called out to the group of males, "Are you guys just going to sit there gossiping all afternoon or are you going to come and join us?"

Cassian readily jumped to his feet, the male wasting no time in eagerly setting off in your direction. Lips pulled into a scheming smirk as he yelled back to you, "Be right over sunshi-"

Unable to finish his sentence, a strangled yelp fell from Cassian's mouth. The male clumsily tumbling to the ground as a rogue shadow slipped away from the general's ankle unnoticed. Azriel chuckling merrily as he passed the downed male with a grin, "Graceful as always, Cass."

~~~

Azriel had never seen a siren before. But here, sat on the bank as he watched you elegantly glide through the river as though it was second nature, the male was certain that your beauty - even in the water- was unmatched.

And just when Azriel thought you couldn't get any more radiant, he found himself enraptured by your celestial grace. His hazel eyes drawn to the delicate droplets of water which glistened on your plush lips thanks to the sun's amber rays.

You were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Rhysand had picked the most beautiful spot on the continent for your outing today, and yet even the breathtaking scenery of the lush surroundings paled in comparison to you.

"Hey Az?" your gentle voice drew the male from his stupor, the lovesick fog in his affectionate gaze clearing just enough for Azriel to see your expectant eyes looking up at him from where you were swaying in the water, "Are you going to come in?"

Azriel's eyes grew wide at your question, cheeks burning red as the male searched for a suitable answer, "Oh, uh . . . you want me to -?"

A low groan of frustration sounded next to Azriel, an exasperated Rhysand roughly pushing the shadowsinger to stand as he whispered with a hiss, "Az, just get in the damn water."

Shrinking under the anticipatory stares of his family, Azriel swiftly removed his boots before awkwardly shuffling towards the river's edge. Cautious, he dipped a tentative toe into the flowing water before pulling back with an alarmed cry, wings curling in shock at the frigid temperature of the river, "I don't know if I ca-"

"Oh for cauldron's sake" Cassian huffed behind Azriel, a heavy hand falling onto the male's shoulder before he shoved the shadowsinger in.

Azriel had no time to react, a panicked shriek slipping from his lips as he forcefully crashed into the freezing water. Limbs flailing uselessly as he worked to make his way towards the surface, the shadowsinger's control slipping as the current worked against his feeble actions.

Relief was delivered in the form of your tender touch, your gentle hands moving to support the male as he gathered his wits and acclimated to the - somewhat - soothing chill of the river. Azriel's eyes blinking open only for him to be greeted by your warming smile looking back at him.

"Hi" you whispered, softly giggling at Azriel's uneasy expression. Eyes shining with adoration as you gently moved to wrap your arms around Azriel's shoulders in order to steady the fumbling male, "thank you for joining me."

"Hi" Azriel replied breathlessly, his cheeks still burning with a heated blush despite the cooling nature of the water which surrounded him. Noticing your close proximity, the shadowsinger gulped nervously. The male helpless in resisting his shadows control as they worked to pull his slightly trembling hands to rest against the curve of your waist.

Azriel now safe within your hold, the two of you happily bobbed along with the current. All thoughts of your watchful friends long forgotten as you allowed yourselves to become lost within the moment. Azriel's heart beating wildly as your ardent gaze never failed to leave his flustered face.

And it was here, tenderly wrapped within your comforting embrace, that Azriel allowed himself to wonder if Rhysand had been right all along about your supposed affections. The shadowsinger realizing that perhaps he needn't have worried about whether you would be able to love him - because maybe you already did.

"Hey sunshine!" Cassian's startling shout broke the silence which had comfortably settled between the pair of you, the general's voice filled with mischief as he teasingly called, "Az has something he wanted to ask you!"

Stunned, Azriel blanched at his words. A string of expletives falling from the shadowsinger's lips as he turned his anxious gaze towards you. The unsteady beating of his heart thundered in his ears at the daunting sound of your encouraging hum.

"Uh . . . um, I just wanted to . . ." Azriel's apprehensive gaze shifted towards his brother who was waiting on the bank with his head hung into the palm of his hand, panic building in his chest as the male found himself lost for words, "I was just wondering if you wanted . . . uh-"

"Yes Azriel," you beamed, softly nodding along to Azriel's garbled speech, "The answer is yes. I would love to go on a date with you."

Wasting no time, you sealed your lips against his own. Using the arms you had tightly wrapped around his shoulders to pull the flustered male closer towards you. Smiling into the kiss as Azriel's lips began to tentatively move against your own.

The shadowsinger clutched onto you as though you were his lifeline, fingers firmly pressed into your waist as he held you flush against him - lips chasing after yours as though he would surely drown without your sweetened kiss.

Yet the kiss was only fleeting, you having pulled away at the sound of your friend's ecstatic cheers. Azriel released a laugh of disbelief as you moved to rest your forehead against his own, your eyes bright and full of love as you breathlessly whispered, "Finally. I was wondering how long it would take you to ask me that."

"What?" Azriel asked in astonishment, his swollen lips parting in surprise, "You've been waiting for . . . me?"

"You're beautiful, Az" you exclaimed as though it was obvious, a soft gasp escaping from the male's lips at your words, "So unbelievably beautiful."

"But I- I'm . . ."

You hushed the male with a swift peck to his lips, "Just kiss me again, Az."

"With pleasure" Azriel answered with a smile, bringing his lips to meet your own.

[ayamturd]

break│dreamwastaken

summary: the story of a broken love, and how even time itself fails to sooth the burn of a heartache; a desperate soul twisted by the likes of hopeful love

song: Break My Heart Again by FINNEAS

warnings: manipulative endeavors, descriptive toxic relationship, blood and injury, mentions of death, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @basilly​’s 1k song event! [at this point, consider this my early celebratory for 2k lol] my food love, no matter how far you’ve grown, i will always congratulate you for everything you are. thank you for being so amazing <33 (i can’t express how sorry i am that this is so delayed)

also, basil, while i love you greatly and for everything you write, i couldn’t resist and gave in to the angst. apologies in advance, i took the song in a darker different light

wc: (5.6k) - m.list

Hey, you

I'm just now leaving

Can I come around later on this evening?

Humming the small tune by the closure of your lips and the light sound behind your throat, you walked leisurely on the old, mossy path. The stone steps were smooth and cool, a slight contrast to the beautiful summer day. 

With the breeze that brushed against your open face, your smile was wide and held nothing but a pure innocence to what the world had to offer.

Basket ahold, you swung the hand-woven twine in hand as you made your way besides the Oak forest. You were happy, content per se, for the day was anew and the rising excitement to greet your lover continued to grow with each step.  

Before your song could finish, however, howls of laughter rang loudly ahead of you. The joyous screams startled you, and while you grew tense from the possible threat of wild individuals, relief filled you by the sight of a classic, clean green.

“Dream!”

Pulling on your loose trousers, you bounded faster towards the group. Another breathy call of his name escaped you before you rammed yourself into his arms, the vibrating warmth of his chest engulfing you entirely whilst his deep chuckle blessed your ears. 

You looked up to him with hopeful eyes, yet his own were turned away as he addressed both Sapnap and George besides him. 

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

They nod with what seems to be devilish grins, eyes narrowed in dangerous enthusiasm that gleamed almost as harshly to their enchanted armor in the high-rise, afternoon sun. 

Noting their outer armer relative to their weapons in hand, you turned back to Dream to notice his same attire, confused to how you missed it entirely. Glancing back up to his proud face, he gave the boys a final nod before finally turning his attention to you. 

“Hey you.”

You giggled to his soft voice and pushed the strung mask further from his face as it currently hung loosely near his left eye. Reaching on the tips of your toes, you kissed him sweetly on his chapped lips, a hand to his cheek while the other lifted yourself up from his shoulder. 

Dream sighed into the gesture, the feelings blissful in thought as he pulled you by the waist against him, your touch more intoxicating than you could ever imagine. 

Pulling briskly away to your disappointment, he licked his lips with scrunched brows while glaring down at you at a disarray.

Or do you need time?

“You can be so annoying, you know that?”

His tone were unexpected and, in all honesty, threw you off completely, prompting you to freeze from such sudden, jarring words. 

You didn’t know how to respond after hearing something like so from a lover, though you should have expected it from Dream as a person, for he leaned closer by a breathes away from your own with a menacing smirk.

“You’re a distraction, love. A dangerous one that doesn’t even realize it.”

He nipped your skin gently along side your face, a hand grasping your lower jaw firmly. Lost for words entirely, you felt stiff in his hold, dizzy from his affectionate contact yet uncharitable voice moments before.

“W— what are you— I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasps interrupting you by his doing. He ended your torture when stepping back with a teasing kiss to your cheek, rubbing your soft skin with rough fingers. 

He was enamored by your dazed stare, and did nothing to hide the fact.

However, once noting your usual basket looped by your inner elbow, he frowned from the implication and clicked his tongue in irritation. 

“Today’s another business day,” he declared, seemingly disappointed by the unfortunate circumstances falling on one of your expected visits. Your face dropped as he continued to huff into the space above you.

“It’s an important one too, unfortunately. We probably won’t finish till the day’s all done.”

You looked down sadly, removing your hands from him to fiddle with your fingers in front of you. “1-10?” you asked, upset and failing to pretend otherwise. In spite of your obvious dejection, you knew better than to whine of his duties to his smp. 

“8,” he carelessly stated. 

The high number shocked you and caused you to chew your lip anxiously. You shifted your head towards the grassy pasture horizon with a scared hand to your heart, the idea frightening to consider in contrast to the peaceful land it currently was. 

Dream swiftly pulled your hand back to him while forcing your eyes to meet his expectantly. 

“As much as I adore you, love, you can’t be all cute right now and distract me. You know this, yeah?”

Yes, of course, that's fine 

“Of course, always, yes.”

Under the shadow of his mask, Dream gave you a dashing grin, his eyes narrowed with green specks that glowed beneath the curl of his lashes. 

Placing a hand on the rough material of his hoodie, you trailed down the straps of armor attached to his wrist until your hand met his. Wordlessly, you hooked your finger to his, letting the weight of gravity pull both of your hands down together. 

“I love you, Dream.” 

He leaned forward, and with a rub of your knuckle intertwined with his, gave a course whisper against your hair; his hand held your head near his, leaving little room for you to move even if you wanted to.

“I love you too.”

Hey, you

Good morning

I'm sure you're busy now, why else would you ignore me?

The sun peaked through the curtains of your open window, the morning air breezing through and welcoming a soft chill as the day introduced its new warmth. As birds arose and sang their morning song, you hummed along with them, distracted with the task at hand before you. 

Fitting the baked goods into your usual basket, you sighed in satisfaction as they perfectly slipped in place. You grabbed your cloak that resided on top of your dining chair and were soon out of the house in quick skips. 

The recent days had gone by in a blur. As the seasons changed and shifted in tone, you enjoyed the overcasting sun as much as you could before it would inevitably be replaced by the brilliant moon for its longer period.

With a hopeful smile, you couldn’t help but think of Dream, observant eyes bright by the builds of his land and the people that resided. He had been more than busy lately, and you knew you couldn’t last long without seeing him soon enough; or at the very least, attempt to see him.

Or do you need space?

Admittedly, you had recently tried to see him within the vicinity of his community house, however, you were met with disappointment when he was found missing then. It had been some time since he last kept his promise; his assured words where he would always be there when you looked for him. 

As the settled frown grew on your lips, you absentmindedly began to play with the locket around your neck, its gold sheen gleaming in everything the peaking sun had to offer. 

Your thumb rubbed against the smooth touch of its rounded surface, the delicate engravings almost memorized by heart due to how captivated you were to its detail. Glancing down, you longingly tugged on the small thing, its thin chain now pressed into the back of your neck while you gazed deeply at it.

He had gifted you the beautiful necklace not too long ago, its beauty a prize to celebrate of the recent victory in battle, his victory.

You can't help it if your mind has changed 

Your skips had come to a halt, your unsteady pace now slow as it soon resided to a stop. 

Eyes trained on the dirty stains melded with the wooden path, you couldn’t help your uneasy stare as your thoughts began to run wild. Every assumption and anxious fear came into light, the idea that any action or consideration forward would only lead to upset rather than fulfill. 

Love is discussion, love is compromise; dissatisfaction should be held, and compromise admissible for the purpose to please.  

Logic in mind, you spun by the tips of your toes, already set on your adventure home. The sudden shift in tone was forced and a basic, stiff smile that felt smothering with every step; nevertheless, you persevered for the sake of your darling.

As if time began to move from its standstill, soon your hasty steps turned to skips once more, the small bounce by the delight of favoring Dream’s responsibilities over your own selfish desires to see him when you crave. 

The day’s arrival was still anew, and it signified the opportunities now open to you by the freedom you possessed. You moved by the base of the birds’ early call, carefree to all thoughts but of Dream like before. 

It was best not to bother him, you solidly decided, for he was busy after all, and you should be understanding of the fact.

So go ahead and break my heart again

Leave me wonderin' why the hell I ever let you in

Crickets broke the frozen tension of the winter midnight, echoing rings almost taunting to the cut emotions that currently bled from you. 

While you squeezed your eyes tight until the bare tears that escaped ran sparingly down your cheeks, your hands were forced against your temples in anguish, the pressure comforting to the inner pain that threatened to tear you loose. By the burning push of your palms to your head, you felt as if your own willpower and strength then was the only thing keeping you sane and secure.

Kneeling close to the ground, your body rocked as your silent cries poured out, your mouth wide yet only eery croaks audible as too much could be expressed or screamed in one sound. The slight movements you created brushed the shards of glass and shattered dish ware surrounding around you, the expected tidy home evidently thrown to disarray by your anger.

Like the setting suggested by your fit, you were a helpless mess overwhelmed by the contentment you tried to force; your heart so big and giving, its own weight now failing to the lack of support within. 

Are you the definition of insanity?

As your grating shudders lessened over time, you were left empty to the shaking chills that racked your weak body. Strewn pathetically on the floor, you collapsed to your side with a hand placed paralleled to you, the sad attempt to hold yourself meaningless as your elbow jutted out. 

Blurred eyes focused only ahead of you, your face wavered as you reached forwards, your trembling fingers running over the craft of a broken frame. 

Glass rained as you turned the photo to its side, its airy clatter unnerving when sprayed inches near your face. The image remained fogged until you managed to blink the salty film away, the sight immediately causing an uproar of emotions to boil again.

Staring back at you, like an image of pure adoration, was you within Dream’s arms. You were both sat below a tree, your back cushioned against Dream’s chest as he held you close, hands habitually intertwined while you raised one to cup his cheek, his other hand completely obscuring yours from view. 

Although your laugh was focused on the camera, Dream’s eyes were directed solely on you. You could practically hear the wind as it rustled through the leaves, your laugh flowing with the current of sound as George and Sapnap fought behind the camera, their argument feeding your breathless smile at its extreme. 

The photo was aged, the wear evident despite your cautious aims to preserve the moment to its true form.

Your lips pulled into a hardened smile, teeth clenched desperately hard by the jealousy that pulled your feeble heart strings along. How he used to look at you with his own eyes like you mattered or he cared. 

What a time it was, to recall the love he so easily reciprocated. 

What a time it was, to be able to sing without the fear of upsetting a partner. 

What a time it was, to smile with the face behind a frozen grin. 

With a gentle finger, you lightly grazed the outline of Dream’s figure, his glaringly green hoodie a symbol of brighter times only unscathed as a distant reminiscence beneath present torments. 

You missed him, you thought. You missed his mischievous beam, his contagious wheeze that alit any sunken mood. You missed when he was happy. Happy with himself, with what he’s achieved. 

You missed when he was happy with you. 

Sneering at your past self that stood with your desired Dream, you scrunched your nose with disgust and turned the photo over in protest, pausing when spotting the messy handwriting between your fingers.

The message was crisp, the writing focused while holding a form of certainty to its meaning. You shook your head to the simple words, the phrase both so commonly tossed along yet priceless in the given stance as a whole. 

I love you :)

Or am I?

A deep shading suddenly emerged in your vision, the dark of night reflected in the glistening shade as it contrasted the white of the photo back.

Brain slow and thoughts heavy, you watched as the liquid dripped across the paper like the fallen raindrops on a window glass, your eyes the fingers that traced its unpredictable path. Only when the crescent moon ray found its trickle did you realize it was blood. 

You jumped once spotting your hand, the cracks between your squeezed skin resembling the rocky surface of a treasured cave, glass impersonating the pressured gemstones emerging from the depths of your stone wall.

Testing the veil of reality over your fogged mind, you closed your hand into a fist, the bursts of pain rewarded by the trickling fall of your blood.

The scarlet luster pooled at the base of your broken fountain, its tainted ichor like a stream of validation to credit your devotion to Dream; the literal blood you’ve spilt was a show to the sacrifice you’ve made. Like a deranged ritual performed from the base of your derealization, your love had consumed you till none was left for your own self will to stand.

As the thick liquid continued to drip, you smeared the gathering puddle with the pad of your finger, as if to clean the mark of impurity upon the sacred memory, forever remained so long as you safeguarded it.

Your frustrations grew by the realization that the blood stained the old ink below, the past obscured to your current ache which wounded your soul. To think such minuscule words could relate to the battered fervor of an abandoned soulmate, once promised of returned love to feel whole. 

You kept mindlessly rubbing the stain further in, your breathing picking up by the panic that set in. You were desperate for control, despite the fact that you were to blame for driving yourself from reason.

Oh, it must be nice

To love someone who lets you break them twice 

Tears off set your vision, the wet cry a defeated surrender to the turmoil of doubt that clawed at you for months to come. 

Your tears fell, in vain and misery, and splashed into the red paint below, the immiscible mixture settled on the smudged smiley face in turn.

You're so blue

Are you still breathing?

Hidden under the breath of the crackling fire, you hummed a tender song, its melody calm in spite of the stress that suffocated you internally and the worry that overwhelmed.

Gripping the small vial of regeneration potion with your clammy hand, you swirled the brew while you hovered an awkward hand above the lost stranger’s face, his head rested on your outer cloak as you sat above him.

The forest was dark tonight, winter at its full when it was dangerous to stay in the wilds. While it was by mistake that you lost your way when gathering your daily fresh ingredients, it’d be considered a great luck to some regard that tonight would be the evening you come across an injured Dream, near death, hidden within the over-arching branches above.

Although it wasn’t your proudest moment when bringing him down, you’d assume he purposefully meant to hide above before anymore harm could reach him; his attempts were in technical vain when you accidentally pushed him out of the tree, however. 

With a guilty smile to the memory mere minutes ago, you worked hastily to heal him, slowly pouring the shimmering concoction you saved for such emergencies down his throat.

You sighed after he greedily finished the elixir, massaging your forehead in contemplation with hopes it would be enough concerning what was visibly wounded was worrisome.

The near heat of the close flames warmed you greatly in the cold dark, your outer layer currently sacrificed for your patient’s comfort. As the burnt, sour orange tint reflected the fire’s exposed dance, you watched with careful eyes as it flickered along his pale skin, wondering what more could be done to aid any unease. 

It was memorizing to watch the blaze highlight the features of his forgotten face, the seemingly human side of him accentuated by every curve and handsome scar. 

Won't you tell me if you found that deeper meaning

Before you could catch yourself as you became lost in his peaceful features, familiar eyes revealed themselves to stare back at you, the moment frightening yet memorizing by the intimate glare of his piercing, emerald hues.

Any moment of calm broke the second he awoke, for his brows furrowed in discontent at the sight of you. The cold, menacing look clearly signified his lack of awareness, that somehow, after something of rekindled love which burn in scars evident on your heart now means nothing in the eyes of a foreigner.

He jumped up unexpectedly, the sudden movement causing you to fall back in response. While you raised a cautious hand towards him, Dream frantically observed his surroundings through squinted eyes, as if despite the shadow of night, he was left vulnerable without his unfiltered mask to hide. 

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off when he raised his blade, the thin edge sharp against the fragile skin of your neck. Although you had the room to back away, you couldn’t help the frozen standstill of fear course through you; the danger of giving in to his sword a toxic, stimulating effect that blinded all rationality available.

Do you think I've gone blind?

“Dream.”

Your voice was clear, an interesting contrast alone to the nervous intake of air you conspicuously showed. Taking a step forwards, the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath you set Dream off further, the subtle noise adding to his tired, delirious state.

With his hand to his side, a pain expression blossomed on his sunken face. His harsh movements only worsened the steady progression of his healing injuries, evident when he dropped his weapon and used it instead as a source to balance against.

You called out to him again, yet he continued to scour the space, ignoring any hint of concern you expressed. While you watched helplessly to his purposeful ignorance, your frown only grew when he spotted something on the ground; his mask, laying innocently by the small campfire, smile hauntingly demoralizing alone.

Dream moved towards it, pausing to wince from his ache, before continuing forwards determined. He reached down carefully, regarding the mask with nimble fingers as he placed it back over its destined place. You could only gawk from the action and the change in tides that shifted his stance. 

Following his silent disregard, he sheathed his sword to turn away.

I know it's not the truth when you say, "I'm fine” 

“Dream,” you tried again. Your words fell on deaf ears as such of your history to a blind heart. 

It was comical, with how much you cared for how little he chose to convey; like puppet, woven by confirmation and desire by design, his unspoken rejection began like a catalyst to your unravel, where the tug to your heart would continue to pull till there was nothing left in ruins. 

Patience can only go so far, limited by needs of validation and recognition. Something within you snapped, something deep that stemmed from how harsh you fell when he gave you wings to fly, only later to rip them apart. 

“Dream!”

He stopped walking, almost as shocked as you to your sudden outburst. His back remained turned towards you, yet his departure ceased for the time being. As if he were granting you the permission to do so, you recollected yourself with a strident breath through your nose. 

“Dream. Please, just let me help you.”

The air felt brittle, with a heavy tension that threatened to snap the gate as a whole and a wary scope that made the ground treacherous. You were in his hands, no matter if he didn’t want you, for you were trembling from the anticipation he dragged along; his silence was your torture and your unscathed devotion a curse. 

Slowly, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right that if you believed enough, the angle gave away his concealed eye, with nefarious green that brewed beneath. Dream’s stare exposed every emotional intention you could hide, to the point where your desperation was choked out of you. 

“Please,” you whispered.

Nothing more could be said beyond what your face begged. You wanted to help him, whether that meant from himself or his ambitions didn’t seem to matter so long as it involved you. 

He stared, his leer empty and unforgiving, before turning away. The shadows of the forest shrouded him in darkness until there was nothing left to sight. 

Alone, you continued to gaze upon where he once was, and fell to your knees from dismay; you were discarded, yet incidentally set yourself up for failure. 

Don't pretend that I'm the instigator

Despite how little light was shown, heat engulfed you from the high of your emotions, the small space cramped and tight.

You let your rage speak for itself, the words progressed farther than your silence has ever led you. Meeting your stride was Dream, his own frustrations on a full front that towered over your figure. 

“You’ve never loved me!”

Throat raw, you swallowed your distress down, for you had been screaming at the top of your lungs for the past few minutes, eyes stinging from the onset of tears you’ve attempted to smother in fear. 

The feeble lantern on the minuscule table graced you with enough light to face Dream without the unbearable sight of his face, his mask. 

“That’s not true,” you nimbly responded, his claim hurtful to consider or resolve. Brows furrowed, you bowed your head down, contemplating yourself for everything you’ve done, everything you’ve offered, everything you would go beyond to promise. 

Stepping forwards, you stood directly under his face, eyes wide from accusation. By this point, you were bargaining for reason, for any sense that he could spare to realize your naive love. 

“I would do anything for you!”

Tears leaked by the corner of your eyes, with your drained breathing filling the quiet room. You unconsciously placed a hand to your heart, as if to express the internal ache you exposed yourself to when consorting with Dream’s poisonous influence once more. 

While he chose to declare your failure to upkeep a one-sided love, his reaction was less motivated than one would expect. Dream was stone still, untouched by the loud claim and heartfelt vow, with a relaxed stance before you. 

His body language differed from his practical spat towards you, words deep and firm in belief. 

“You don’t mean that.”

You were the one, but you were born to say goodbye

It was as if your anger consumed you as you reached forwards, jumping up to rip off his mask. 

He flinched from your quick movements but wasn’t fast enough to escape, his eyes wide once you grabbed hold of the white plate. You hugged it into your chest, the outer rim contrasted with the white of your knuckles by how hard you clutched the rounded edge, and could feel the hard material pushed against your heart where it beat erratically. 

While he seemed offended by your impulsive decision, you left no room for him to speak once your seething shudder broke loose.  

“Tell me,” you began, eyes wet with droplet rains that coursed down your flared cheeks.

“Tell me you truly believe that. That my love has ever failed you as yours has me.”

The standstill burned; your stare locked on Dream’s, you were entranced by how deep his unreadable expression caved in and how desperate you were to submit, to give in. 

Like a marionette, pulled in sync with the hands of a manipulator, skilled in its finest, you crashed your lips onto Dream’s harshly.

Time became irrelevant, for touch became an everlasting sensation that deprived all literal sense. Although the painful past was buried after an extended period of repressed reality, new dams broke free for the torrents to flood. Eternity and infinity faded by the force he pushed against you. 

This went beyond intimacy, beyond any possible rekindling love erased over the course of intentional mistakes.

This was passionate; passionate by the term of how overpoweringly strong and intense both parties released and showed. There was no where to scream or any moment to rave besides where ones lips touched. 

Dream’s hands opposed each other; while he held gentle fingers to raise your chin, his other hand gripped the back of your head eagerly, his fingers burrowing urgently into your hair.

The air you shared fueled the individual fires you both lit, the flames melding into one and threatening to burn the memories of the past down, with the ashes to pollute your lungs by what you breathed. 

Kissed me half a decade later

Eventually, you pulled away. 

Panting heavily from the strenuous act, your eyes remained closed, tired from the pressure you squeezed them shut. You laid your forehead to Dream’s chest exhausted, mind distorted to think otherwise of the events formerly.

You gripped the fabric of his hoodie on his arm, every tug a reminder of what was in front of you, what currently was happening as a way to ground yourself. 

Amusingly, the phrase “Old habits die hard,” failed to bring justice to the actuality of the situation. The relapse in and of itself was a case of feeding one another’s ego and self-worth; a circumstance of dependency vs. conceit.

As if discarded puzzle pieces came together once more, everything fit, not because it was right, but because it was easy and recognizable.

That same perfume, those same sad eyes

With a soft breath, you inhaled the smokey texture of his scent, familiar yet ashy in comparison. 

He smelt like a charred version of the romantic you once knew him as. Raw and unrefined, he now felt course and offered so little without promise; the memory of him barely stands with the man you currently held. 

Dream’s arms wrap around your shoulders, giving you the closest exposure you could experience when immersing yourself in just him. It’s admittedly nostalgic, the sensory overload that washes over you now forcing you to relive memories that proved previously painful due to rejection; your forgiveness is easy and the lessons learned disregarded.

Soon, you lifted your face to him, your numbing daze succumbed by his hands, his touch, his breath. Him.

As you stared into his eyes, your own watered by the sight while his remained cold and heavy. The contrast was strange, yet the feeling of him intoxicating enough to distract any warnings in your mind. 

While his eyes were tied to yours, Dream squeezed the slacked muscles of your shoulders. Comforting, yet subtle, his small reassurance diverted your attention from his reach for his mask, still clung to your chest; the reason for reassurance was a lost to any outside observer, however, affection in the most microscopic way fed your starved crave farther than any could also expect. 

Once he gained a grip, the mask unsuspectingly slipped from your hold. Your hand dropped from the empty space of air, but to no one’s surprise, you were too immersed with Dream’s vacant gaze upon you too notice or care. 

He brought a hand to your face, and with a demeaning stroke of your skin that followed with repetitive pats, he used his other hand to slip the mask over his face. Like the curtain fall of a vivid performance, Dream’s still face shifted; with a meticulous smirk now hidden, his true manipulative intentions were obscured by your gullible faith to prove yourself. Whether that faith be in yourself or him, the end result hints fatal.

Go ahead and break my heart again

Leave me wonderin' why the hell I ever let you in

The horrific sounds of childlike singing filled the air like a buzz within one’s ear.

It’s slow, melodic tune rang carefree and high while carried by the evening breeze and nightly destruction. Along the forgotten, stone path, overgrown grass tickled one’s feet as its own will cracked through the ragged crevices. 

The night was refreshing, the combination of the cool breeze and blazing fire invigorating to a relaxed heart.

Spanning the surroundings to what one could see, trees were smoldered completely to the ground, the midnight sky alit by the burning smoke and constant flickers of the scorched earth. 

In turn, the warmth of the fire had replaced the bright sun, ruination so recurring in the changed times from when nations were first claimed and battles claimed victorious. 

Are you the definition of insanity?

Or am I?

A figure walked through the forest flames, their clothes a dark disparity against the fierce, livid ignition that destroyed the ever green pasture in its hungry endeavor to spread. 

Arms out as they twirled, the chaos that reigned seemingly filled them with eased joy. They danced, gracefully by the rhythmic tune of their song, whilst layered by the protective sheathing of dense armor. 

Although hefty, the elegance they possessed opposed their bulky shape; a ballerina dressed for combative death, they pranced upon the lost lives wasted on meaningless fronts and end goals. 

Or am I?

“Y/n.”

The figure paused. 

Cautiously, they turned towards the raspy sound of a tired soldier, one full of devotion and known to lose himself from the exhilaration arson could bring. 

Sapnap held a look of disgust on his face. Often full of teasing endearment, his eyes were instead revolted by superficially everything the figure stood for, everything they represented when standing before him. 

Draped in a torn fabric, they were shielded from the light entirely, the only thing visible being their eyes; radiated by the literal devastation that set their hues bright, they twinkled in lost adoration for Sapnap’s fury.

It must be nice

“How could you?"

To love someone

Tilting their head in confusion, they suddenly raised their hand to stare in wonder of the red that gleamed in the fire light, the substance like paste that smudge thick on the unwary figure.  

Blood coated their fingers, the brief itch of the dried liquid sticky like a tiresome byproduct from a craft project. 

Unbeknownst to them, they were coated in the scarlet liquor, armor gruesomely stained to the point where they practically bathed in the rich substance. 

Mesmerized by the splattered ink of unfortunate casualties, they failed to notice another figure approach them from behind. A cold hand reached around their waist, the new presence causing Sapnap to step back in reluctant fear. 

As the recognizable scent of burnt citrus filled their lungs, they glance up admirably to the sight of Dream.

He continued to look forwards, his mask staring down an old brother, and old friend, while the smaller figure patiently waited for him. Their silence was rewarded when they felt a faint tap to the side of their hip, the wordless commands of a precious lover heeded and understood. 

Without thought, they reached for their weapon and hastily moved to towards the directed target, emotionless to the begs of free will and implications. 

Who lets you break them twice

To stand in the ashes of who one used to be, a pure and divine light now ruined by the corruption of love by its finest manifestation. 

Love is dangerous, not by the lengths one may go to secure it, but by the unfathomable depths of the water itself, obscured until one already drowns in it. 

:)

edit - i only realize now it mirrors the joker and harley quinn’s twisted relationship lol

tags! - @notphilosopherstudentblog​ @mitzimania @basilly @inniterhq @forutheworld @esylwen @sleepysoupi @mayasimagines @dysfunctionalcrab @strxbrymilkkuu (feel free to send an ask or comment to be added!)

[lausterholes]

JJBA | All you wanna do

Link to AO3

Pair: Kars x Reader/ Kira Yoshikage x Reader/ Dio Brando x Reader/Diavolo x Reader/ Vinegar Doppio x Reader

Word: 5k

Trigger Warning: Dub-con / Rape/noncon/ Unrequited love/ Angst/ Sexual harassment/ Underage

A/N:  I have this in my mind for a while now. While I listened to All you wanna do from six the musical and the idea popped up in my head. What if all the lovers of K. Howard become the main villain of Jojo? And the reader is K. Howard herself? That's the good angst material ;D This may contain many things to make you felt super uncomfortable, just make sure that you can read tragedy. And I'm not going to romanticize any of that.

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

It firstly started ever since you were a child. You can call yourself as a mediocre person, but somehow; the magnets that drew anyone closer than you make them undeniably head over heels. It felt great, it's the feelings that always make you feel valuable, you like it, you love it when someone loves you. No matter what- you always return those love, both intentionally and unintentionally. Maybe it's both reasons why it withdraws and drags more people into your life.

Jacob was alright.

Malcolm was kind.

Alex was a little wild.

But they don't even different. Once they get closer, they drifted away, leaving you alone again. You didn't understand why, but you guess it's because they were the same, it just your luck to meet those boys. But you can't help but wonder, will you ever meet someone that gave you the feeling that you've always been requited for? The one that will be your knight in shining armor. You just can't wait.

That's what you in your fifteen years old thought- innocent, pure, and hopeful thinking. All day and night, you just daydreaming about the prince that will give you love. Only to get corrupted. If you knew better- you wouldn't fell into this dark spot. But... maybe- this is just your destiny that has been destined.

One day, in an afternoon. Your father brought in a man. Tall, dark, and sexy; that's all you could describe him. The long wavy underlit hair reached his back, red menacing eyes wander to your forms, his entire body is so large compare to you. You father introduced him; Kars, your new music teacher, will come to your house every day in an afternoon to teach you all about dynamics.

He was twenty-three

And you were fifteen, almost sixteen.

At first, Kars never touch you, he just sitting face to face across the table. Teaching the chords of the guitar, how to play piano, and lead you to learn the flute. That's all he did with you. You were really happy to have him as your teacher- you can call this as you have a crush on your teacher, but who knows? He was nothing but a pure masterpiece, not just his appearance, but his expertise in understanding things quickly can make you fell in love right then.

Kars was only one strict music teacher you've met. He was hard to please and picky with the tone. Even you're a beginner, he's not going easy on you. You want to make him impressed because you like him. So you practice a lot just to make Kars proud. Day by day, you got improved. You perfectly accomplished the pieces he suggests, a smile crossed his face, satisfied with your performance. That feeling hits you once more, you feel so valuable.

One day, you have an opportunity to sit right next to him, learning about the duet piano. You moved a bit closer with an innocent intention, asking him. "Mr. Kars- Why do you become a teacher instead of being famous, using your skills?"

He looked at you, narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm happy at this state more." The man moved his hands on the piano, leading you with one pressing. You followed up, focusing on each note. The C minor makes your surroundings forlorn but also intensifies up. You peek at his expression once your hands almost intertwined, he just wears that grin on his face. Blushing crept up on your cheeks, the closer you look, the more alluring he became. "Focus, [Y/N]."

"Yes, sir." You gulped and continued to follow his notes. Suddenly, Kars stopped his movements, so you stopped too. But quite don't understand why. "Mr. Kars?"

"Play your parts, I'll watch."

"Wait- but if you don't lead me, I don't know what to do." You flustered at his words. "And this piece is a duet, and I'm not supposed to play alone, am I?"

"It's okay, you can do it, dear."

You tense up at the word he uses. Did he use it in intention? But no- you have to focused on the task he gives. You hope that he likes you, but somehow- it felt wrong. "Okay then," You nodded and started to play your part, which sounds strange without him. Kars watched in amusement of discomfort on your face, he was aware that you felt that it's not a good song anymore.

"You may stop."

"Yes,"

Kars turned his body to face yours. "So what does it feel to play a duet alone?"

"Strange, it's not a song I recognize anymore."

"That's right," Kars answered, using his fingertips pressing on the piano. "Without my lead, what will you do?"

"Play along, even if it's unrecognizable?"

"That's not right, you always have to follow my lead."

"Mr. Kars..."

You widened your eyes. Somehow, it felt off- like really off. Kars started to caressed you hair lovingly. His orbs stared deep into yours This is not what you expected at all, the confusion hit you like a truck, so puzzlement and doubtful. You didn't even dare to move. "You're prettiest of the pretty, [Y/N]." He whispered and you froze at the moment. His face gets closer every second.

Naive, innocent, pure, and vague is what you could describe yourself. You never meet someone that you genuinely like or admire before. Once you met your music teacher, Kars, you just couldn't process what's in your mind. You just love every minute you spend with him, you just adore every part of his figure, and you just so obsessed with the idea that he gets you and you get him. Although you don't want to say that there's chemistry between you and him, you still want to accept this moment.

You're just too young and immature to know that this shouldn't go this way. You let his mouth onto yours, sucking your breath off of your lungs. It just felt so wrong and so right at the same time, couldn't be one of it. His kiss was so harsh, harsher than you thought. When he pulled away to take a break, you almost felt like your lips were bruised. Appeared a smile across your teacher's face. He was so satisfied with you.

He embraced you with his arms, the torso underneath his shirt attached to yours. "What a fairest of the fair- I couldn't get enough of you." Kars complimented. Then he leaned in for a kiss one more time. You just let it be- he looked so proud that he could have you. He undid your whole dress as you felt the shiver ran down your spine.

Is it really what I want?

Or I'm just too naive to notice what's going on?

Before you could know- the pain stung inside you, while the salty tears brimmed off your eyes.

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

It was a year after that, passing to your two birthday and you became seventeen. Due to your father, he has to manage the new business very far, far away from the city, you have to move out of your current residence. Before you moved out- Kars was so rough with the activity. Like he wants to tear every part of your form, it's the last time you could attach your body with his- he just couldn't be softer. But as soon as you realize, he has always been rough. You just think like that to trick yourself that he loves you so he did that.

You didn't even realize that he craved a scar across your heart, an unhealable scar that would forever stay there.

After his touch was long gone, you felt a little weird. It's not that you feel craving for his touch, but there's an unrecognizable feeling that hits you over and over. You regret what you decide on that day. You were just a minor and he's a fully grown man. You undeniably feel so bad about yourself, it was terrible. Why did you do that? And why did he do that too? Shouldn't Kars hold himself back? And shouldn't you be mature enough to deny his advances?

You spend hours crying on your knees. They soaked with your tear that streamed down non-stop. The regret, shame, and remorse slap you right when you've taken away from him. Gladly, you didn't get pregnant- but even then you knew, it's only the good things you acknowledge about this event so far. You were glad that you've taken away, or else you'll stick with the man forever- the man that hurt you, the man that uses the advantage of your innocent to catch you in his arms. You only hope deep inside your heart that you would never be able to see him again.

Your father suggested that you should become the apprentice at his office for a while. Less is better than nothing, he says. You agree because you don't know what to do, you just want to adjust your unstable minds for a bit. And it's the second regretful decision you've ever had in your past life.

You met another guy there; Kira Yoshikage.

He's from Japan, had moved in for years now. He was serious, stern, and slow. The quirkiness beyond his professionalism appearance sparked your interest. He was a secretary that volunteer to help your father take care of this newly open branch he manage. He tried to act like a mediocre person, but you knew that he's far capable of anything more than he tries to look like. So you tried to push him up.

Kira was thankful for your help. He and you spend your days helping each other with a bunch of documents. Despite his professionalism he always put on, he just genuinely gentle and kind toward you. Your almost aching heart just started to beat with delight each time he talks. Admiration started to grow stronger and stronger until you felt like he's different. There was a time that he accidentally touches your hands, he just brushes it off and stumbled his apologies. It was cute.

In the hint of his eyes- you can catch that he started to grow a bound together with you. He wants to touch you- but he held back, swallow down his desire. You started to felt weird once again. But let him have what he wants is not that bad, right? Kira kind toward you, he doesn't make you be the one that impressed him, he also showed you that how he efficient with this work. It just feels legit, he's different. Even your father put the trust in him, he always let you be alone with Kira.

One day, it was so late at that time. You and Kira were only two people left in the office. You trust him enough to lower your guard down. While you were cleaning your desk, Kira was making a cup of coffee. You threw away an unuse pen on the desk inside the box, bending down to carry it once you are done with yourself.

"[Y/N]" Kira suddenly spoke. You almost flinched of how much his voice was so close, you don't even know how can he just popped out of the blue. Slowly, you turned your head to him, seeing Kira standing behind you, two cups of coffee in his hands. "I don't know that you like it sweet or not, so I added a little much sugar."

"Well, thank you so much, sir." You smiled and take the cup that he offered you. Unexpectedly, Kira dropped the cup before you could grab it in your palm. You yelped as the hot liquid pouring down your stockings. "OW!- Ki-Kira-"

"Pulled off your stockings, [Y/N]!" Kira commanded you. You hurriedly do as he says, he just ran off to the kitchen next to this room, then came back with two cool-aids inside his hand. You tried to hold back your whines as the disturbing heat ran up and down your nerves. It was really painful. Willingly, you let Kira touch your legs, he put a cool-aid on each leg that almost burnt. Your eyes capture his pale frame, those vivid ocean eyes were so beautiful, his blonde bang pokes his cheekbone, somehow- he looks so elegant and attractive. You couldn't help yourself but stare at him "I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. I should've been more careful."

"Oh, it's alright. It's not too hot to leave me pain." You awkwardly smile at him.

Kira nodded with a small sigh left his mouth. "At least your hands are okay though. I almost thought that it would burn your hands instead."

"I'm just lucky." You playfully said.

"Yes, you are. Me too."

Hm?

Slowly, Kira moved his hand in the direction of yours. Caressed and held it tightly. Your heart almost skipped a beat. Kira continued to intertwine his fingers with yours, his movements started to get creepier every second. Wordless, but you tried to pulled your hand back from his grip. Something in Kira just snapped, he looked up to see your face, the glare that sews through your bones stopped all of your actions.

"[Y/N]..." He cooed. "I have to admit that I have an eye for you for a while now."

You silenced. His voice rang in your head, sweetened like a sugar coat. You blinked, staring your eyes back into his blue ones. Kira smiled fondly as he takes your hand toward his face, placing a kiss on it. You heart beating like crazy, pounding as loud as the drum.

"Your hands, you body, your face are just too perfect for me. I can't get enough of you."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

"And now, you're quiet- that's cute, you know?" Kira clung his cheek to your hand while staring at you. No word left your mouth, you just stay still like a doll. "[Y/N], will you help me get rid of these urges inside my head?"

You blinked, confusion builds up in your minds. "Kira-"

"Please do call me Yoshikage, [Y/N]." He stood up, the shadow of his cloak over your form. "If I was in those old periods- I dare say that I couldn't wait for a second more to get your corset on the floor."

The confusion that hits you before started to make you unable to respond to him. Is it okay for you to do this? It was too sudden- but his pleading yet so menacing eyes caught you off guard. You kind of like him though, but is it okay? Is it truly what you want to do? You don't know, you honestly don't know. The silence takes away the time for too long. Kira started to straddled over you, working on his belt.

And you give up again. Unintentionally.

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

You felt so bad to yourself. You gave up to the one who holds more power than you once more. The feelings via your hands at that moment still there. It was slick and full of pain. You cried to yourself until you fell unconscious under your quilt. He made you sore all over, every inch of your body still remaining his action, bruised over there, hickies over here. After that, you want to talk to him, but he just ignored you completely. Like you were no one but a stranger. That makes nausea hit you hard, so all he wants was some intercourse? That's all?

At that time- you don't want to recall, but you have to. You just want to clear your mind, consider all of the events. Kira was so gentle, but his urges get him rougher every minute. You can't help but melt into his touch. Each kiss, each stroke, each thrust was intoxicated, you let yourself diving in the deep. These sensations gave you pleasure more than anything, making you think that he was going to be yours- he also acted as he does too. The chemistry between you and him is so right at that time.

Only for him to treat you like air the next day.

You stopped being an apprentice at your father's office. You weren't just tried to avoid Kira- but also everything that reminds you of him. The days passing by so easily than taking a breath. But you still think of Kira- why did you ever believe that he was different? You thought you could break yourself from these disgusting bond, but will you stand a chance to do so? You don't know what's in his head, he was so kind, so professional, and even show his goofy side to you. But is that only an act?

You decide to have a break from boys. Later, you turned nineteen, it was quicker than you expected it to be. Life without love is not that boring as you thought. You still can live your normal routine, sometimes you just went shopping by yourself. It was such a good time. You glad you can be over them with these small little activities. Still, this aching heart has trembled in unstable rhythm. You were afraid that before you could heal these wounds they left, you will close your heart completely, not daring to let anyone be near it again.

You were deeply aware that you don't want that. Deep down inside your heart- you knew that there might be a person who's the one for you.

And unexpectedly, you met someone- a person that so gorgeous, far more elegant than anyone else. You met him in the bar that you don't usually go to. Those neon lights, darkness, and the crowds didn't make him any lesser stunning. Those golden locks take away your breath, those pair of eyes almost make you forgot how to blink, his lips spread into a seductive smile, he was so ethereal and you almost feel illegal to stare at him.

Something in you just urges all your nerves. You follow that irresistible forms from far away- once you get closer, he introduces himself to you. Dio Brando. Tall, broad, and alluring. He was so dangerous and you could sense it. You guess he's not so different, but the way he licked his lips while gazing over your body made you want to wander deeper into those golden orbs.

The whole night you spend with him is more interesting than the rest of the guy you've known. The more you talk, the deeper the conversation is. He was really surprised that you could capable of him, answering the question smartly. He also told you that you're only one of a few people that could make him impressed. And yes- the delight of being someone worthy bloomed inside your heart once more.

Maybe sticking around with him is not hurt.

You learned in the night after that Dio is a lawyer, you weren't surprised that he talks about the structure of society last night. You didn't want to admit, but this Dio guy just makes your heart feel something precious inside. Even he appeared as a man who has high pride and so fascinating. You find him very cute. You won't tell him what you think of him, or else he just turned you down right there.

It started with friendship, ended on the mattress. It looks like both of you just pleased with each other so much. Each day you spend with him, it just drew you two closer.

"[Y/N], I've been thinking," Dio, laid besides you on the bed, talking to you casually. "What do you think 'beautiful' is?"

"Hm," You hummed, snuggle close to his bare body. Dio slung his arms over your shoulders, then placing a kiss your temple softly. "just a definition. It's something that we human sees and think they're good in shapes. Things that are beautiful today don't mean they will be necessarily beautiful tomorrow. It just what we see and assume it is a beauty. But if you talked about the beauty of a person, it's the opposite side of perfection, you don't have to be perfect just to be beautiful. The pure beauty comes from charisma and character."

"Impressive," Dio grinned as he caressed your hair carefully. His eyes were full of vivid reverence of your words. "And what do you prefer, beauty or perfection?"

You silenced for a second. "It's hard to decide, how about both?"

He chuckled, a smile spread across his face. "How greedy."

"I've always been greedy." You tracing your fingers along his torso, sending him the urges. "To be honest, even I couldn't define the definition of these two clearly. It's not the same but also not so different. Although I want both, perfection is rather frightening to me."

"How so?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe because there's nothing perfect? Many things have been clarified as perfect, but none of them go near the true definition."

Dio gave you a tender peck on the lips after you finished you sentence. You flipped yourself on top of him and started to kiss the man back, biting his lower lips until his mouth wide open, welcoming whatever it comes. You slipped your tongue inside and intertwine with his, exchange the taste of one another. The hot breath undeniably makes everything get hotter. His arms swung over your waist, hands clenching anywhere he could on your flesh, making your desire for him intensifies. Your hands went lower, lower, and lower until you reach his member.

Dio's breath became unsteady. You know how much he loves this- you don't want to be full of yourself. But you guess Dio loves this activity as much he loves you. You break out of the kiss, moving your body lower. Your free hand fondled his abdomen lovingly and pushing him back just to relax. Your other hand started to rub the tip of his manhood with a tender touch.

Then, his phone rang.

You suddenly stopped. The man just scoffed. He reached for his phone and looked on the screen. You couldn't tell who it was since he has no different expression from before. But you just couldn't make him whines while he's on his phone, right?

He accepted the call, didn't bother to be the first one who starts a conversation.

Someone from the other side of the call said something quietly.

"I think I've already made myself clear. There's nothing I have to do with that anymore." His expression was far more than terrifying. Even you who's not the person he did talk to still intimidated by him. You watching closely, afraid that you'll do something to unpleased him. "You are better off without me? What an arrogant word flew out of your mouth. Then go ahead."

His voice was calm, but smoldering with amusement and anger. And not for so long, he ended the call casually.

"[Y/N], continued what you've started." Dio grabbed your hair with a smile, his expression change within a minute and that makes you have a cold sweat. "What's wrong, pet? You worry about that call, hm?"

"It just seems important."

"He's no one."

"Really? It doesn't seem like it." You started to get worried for real.

"You want to know who it is?"

You didn't answer him right away, just look at another place, avoiding his eye contact. "I'm not going to say that I don't want to."

Dio caressed your hair, intertwine your locks with his index finger. "He's my son." You stopped breathing. He just said that out of the blue. What can you expect to feel other than shock? When Dio saw you become wordless, a small chuckle left his mouth. The index finger cups your chin up, forcing you to stare back at him. "Don't worry, I'm not a married man. Never married, to be honest. But if you still feel bad about it, feel free to stop."

"Oh," You narrowed your eyes, clearly understand that his son was born from the former lover that's not even married to him. "I still wonder why."

"Wonder about what?"

You smiled bitterly as your minds drifted back into those two men before him. He's not that different. The delight feeling inside your chest just turned into numbness. "Nothing necessary."

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

You never expected the unexpected. Your relationship with Dio is last longer than you could imagine. It was just far longer than anyone you've been with, exclude your family. From friends to a one night stand, then lead to a real couple. You never experienced something like this, it's so awkward, but still making you feel so good. Once you graduate from your college. Dio proposes to you.

So you got married.

It was quite strange, you are about ten years older than his eldest son, Giorno. But still, he has to call you mother. At first, you didn't plan to be a mother to Dio's four children, but most of them really appreciate your whole being though. Each of them born from Dio's different lover. And their mother has disappeared from their life for a long time ago. So, they don't bother to have you around that much. Exclude Rykiel that stick around you with a pure fond.

Even then, it's not easy with Dio. He started to extend the space between you and him. Without your knowing, he almost lost his interest in you. While you were busy with your work and the children, Dio wandering off in the night once again. You can't contact him while you're in need, but when you want some time to yourself, Dio came back, craving for your touch and all like nothing happen.

So you couldn't escape from these kinds of men, huh?

You kept your mouth shut every time, no matter how much you heard. You are just so done with everything right now. You couldn't let yourself losing control, even you know how many times he has lied to you like his second nature. The burden that you've to bear on your back is something you can't deny. You have to carry it on, until you've reached the destination, and you'll let it go.

But where is that destination, to be honest?

One day, in the afternoon. You just wandered off somewhere else, in an unspecific location. Just to find some new place to relax, you stopped by at the serene park you've never visited before. It's not too crowded, everyone doing their things. So silent, so peaceful. The atmosphere looks like in a fairy-tale, tiny and colorful flower, white table, and the huge tree that branched all over the above.

You were too carried away with the surroundings, so you bumped into someone. He jerked back a little with a small yelp, letting go of his water bottles. They fell onto the ground even though he tried to catch it.

You gasped, then hurriedly apologize to the man. "Oh- I'm sorry, sir. I should be more careful."

"It's okay miss! I'm not even falling back, I'm perfectly fine!" He smiled back to you, crouching down and collect his bottles back into his arms.

You felt so bad with this man. His sweet pair of eyes showed up sadness, maybe this is his bad day, that's why he has this expression. "Mind if I give you a hand?" Those sad eyes lightened up a bit. He nodded to you awkwardly as you help him. "where will you bring these into? Why you have to carry it all to yourself?"

"It's nothing- I just lost a bet. So I have to be the one who carries this." He chuckled shyly.

"It's just your luck then?"

"Yeah-"

You learned this later. His name was Vinegar Doppio, working in a nearby office. He was attentive with his works, whenever he started to talk about his boss, he looks a lot more passionate. And then, you came to this park more often, just to have a little conversation with him. You enjoyed with his company. Vinegar Doppio is such a cutie pie. He was a really nice guy, just so sincere.

Your companionship with him started to build up every day. He was different- so different. He listened to every word you say, encouraging you, happily share the inside jokes with you. Maybe, this is it. This is what you want all along. What you've been truly craving for. Friends. These feelings that have been hitting you with other men were nothing more than anxiousness. There's no chemistry, just friend that you could hang out with earnestly.

When Dio's away, you hand out loads with Doppio.

He's devoted, loving, and lively. It was like you never met someone like this before in your entire life.

This connection is real...

...

Really?

Why did you ever think that someone that interested in you was different? It would never ever be different.

Only if you know Doppio better. You wouldn't fall into this state. One day, doppio invite you to his house, said that he got some new recipes he wants to show you. It's true, Doppio prepared a nice meal, along with a good cup of black tea for you. It was really good, you never tasted something like this before. When you started to ask him for the recipe, Doppio just moved from his seat, standing behind your back, touching your shoulder firmly.

"Doppio?"

He clenched his fist onto your shoulder, digging your shirt inside his palm. Suddenly, his voice aloud- but it just far deeper than your Doppio's voice. "[Y/N], you're already married, right?"

"...Yes?"

"Is your husband being nice to you?" He used his fingers to run through your hair. You felt a shiver ran down your spine as he continued to play with your locks.

You gulped in discomfort. "I can say he is, but not as much as he was."

"Hm," He let go of your shoulder. "[Y/N], I want you to turn around."

You didn't understand why, but you do as he demand. Once you turned around and face him, suddenly, Doppio placed his lips onto yours. You jerked back abruptly, hitting the corner of the table. You stared at this unrecognizable man and think; who is this? The brown eyes replaced with menacing green. Those dots never painted on those pink locks before. You were unable to speak. Just who is this man?

The taller man just caught you between his arms. Those pair of emerald eyes stared deep into yours. He's not Doppio, but they shared little traits, but apart from that- he does not even resemble Doppio. He narrowed his eyes once he sees your hands trembled.

"I've expected that you'll be like this." He sighed. "I should have prepared you more."

Doppio- or anyone else he is, dragging you with your wrist, straight to the couch. He threw you on the soft mattress, then straddle over your smaller form. He propped your head up by the backside of your head, pulling your hair down, making your face tilt upward. He kissed you roughly. biting your lower lips so harsh that you were afraid it'll bruise. You tried to fight back with all your strength, kicking, biting, punching. But it was all useless. The man uses his legs to weighted yours down, pinning your hands by both of his.

The sensations were unintentionally riled you up. You never wanted this from Doppio, you only want to be his friends. There should be nothing more to it. But he's kissing you like a hungry hound dog, ripping your clothes apart of your body. His hand went lower, rubbing your sensitive clit through your undergarment"You're the prettiest of pretty, [Y/N]."

Those words- makes you remember your relationship with Kars. Nothing but pure disgust crept into your mind, he was a fully grown man, he should know that it's wrong. He should reject you, stated it out clearly that it's wrong to have a relationship with your own teacher. But he didn't do that. He used the advantage of you being naive in order to get you intimate with him.

You felt the pang of pain stretched you down there. You yelped as the tears rolled down your cheeks. "Doppio! Stop!- I'm begging you!"

"My name is Diavolo," He growled through the pain that also sent to him. You gasped as he continued to penetrate into you, spreading the hole wider by your labia. He never thought that he could fuck a cunt this tight before. He's overwhelmed with power when you whine each inch he inserts. Once he's fully inside you, he's kind enough to let you adjust his length. "Looks like the last time you've done this was long ago."

He intertwined your finger with him, fondle them together nicely, this action reminds you of Kira. He's not so different. Not at all. What were you thinking? Just because sometimes he showed you his vulnerable side despite his professionalism, that doesn't mean you're the one. But why did Kira treat you like that? Why he had to take your trust away like that? Why?

Diavolo started to move his hips, sending you pleasure all over your body. But your heart gets tainted each time he slammed his hips to yours. The rhythm started to get rougher and rougher. The pain down there was gone, leaving you with an intoxicated pleasure. You cried as you moaned his name unintentionally, the whole action was too good to keep your feelings in. You might regret this the next morning. You might cry in shame once this is over. But you just have to give in one more time.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? What a slut you are."

Diavolo pulled out, you gasped at the sudden empty feeling. Only for him to roll you on your knees, then insert his massive manhood inside your cunt once more. He fucks your brains out like crazy, you almost fell into an oblivion every time he thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin aloud over and over. You almost reach there, your body trembled, your toes curled, and you couldn't control your moan anymore. You can feel his cock twitched inside you, he almost reach there too.

Suddenly, your ring slipped off of your finger, it fell on the floor, rolling away in the dark corner. But this intercourse is far more distracting, you didn't even notice that your ring has gone. Diavolo started to pant uncontrollably as he rammed into your slick walls. You arched your back as the orgasm hits you hard, moaning out his name. You road out your orgasm, while Diavolo started to get there, he grunted loudly as he slammed a few more times. He didn't bother to pull out, Diavolo just keeps his balls deep inside you, painting your walls in a dirty white.

You panted, adjust your unsteady breath difficultly. Once you collapse on Diavolo's couch, the tear brimmed in the corner of your eyes once more. You're tired, you're broken, you've choked on your pride.

All you want to do is birds and the bees. Don't care if you don't please me.

You swallowed your pride over and over again. Just because you believed that you're finally where you meant to be.

When actually, there's no way for you to go.

And you'll never be where you were meant to be.

[lilhemmo]

Omg thank you so much for writing for vegeta and im so happy u said to request more!! Could i request some jealous vegeta where it makes him and the reader argue then end up making up? I loves angst that ends with fluff! :)

a/n: hello there vegeta anon!! i do hope that you enjoyed my last one shot and this one as well!! feel free to keep requesting if you would like :) 

“You’re suffocating me.”

“He’s looking at you like you’re raw meat!”

“He’s allowed to look at me,” you snark, crossing your arms, “I look good.”

A growl emits from the back of his throat but you smack him on the bicep, “You’re so annoying. I can’t even spend one peaceful afternoon at one of Bulma’s famous cook outs and you’re making menacing eyes at everything that walks past me.”

Nonetheless, he releases his arm from around your waist and turns his body from you in petulance.

That isn’t the first or last time that his hands find your body in a public place, specifically when he catches someone glancing over you in an illicit way. Vegeta’s palms graze over your hips, your shoulders, and sometimes so close as to brush his knuckles against your jaw. You know it’s all for show, a mere act to keep inappropriate attention from you. 

It takes a little while for you to explode in front of a crowd, but eventually you do. Before now you could chock up his protectiveness as secret emotion that his Saiyan cells won’t allow him to express. Before now you could say that maybe he really just wanted to keep you safe. 

But now?

“You can’t have it both ways!”

Your breath heaves from your lungs, eyes bright and watery. You shake your head and stomp your foot in front of him, pointing a finger between his chest plates. 

“You don’t get to act like I belong to you in public and then disregard me when the prying eyes go away!” You drive your finger further into his armor, splitting the chest plate so your fingernail can tear into the thing fabric of his training gear. 

Vegeta growls and his eyes threaten to glow bright blue, “You dare try to embarrass me in front of all these people? Me, Prince Vegeta?”

“Prince of Bad Attitudes!” You shove him backward with a push of your palm. You swallow thickly and try to keep down the hot tears that threaten to spill onto your blushing cheeks. “You’re being a fraud, Vegeta!”

“Gah?!” He steps back and his hands shake by his sides, “H-How dare you?!”

You narrow your eyes and spit the next words out like venom, “How dare you?”

Without another word, you stalk away from the party, towards the lake so you can dip your toes in the water and let your temper roll off of you in waves. The night is balmy and you look up at the stars, your chest heaving with emotion. You take a breath and wipe the tears from your face, wrapping your arms around your waist as you sniffle.

It takes another hour before you hear feet shuffling in the grass behind you. Your toes have turned to raisins, the skin of your feet crinkling in the cool water of the lake. You don’t even have to turn your head before you’re making a snarky comment, “If you’re here to give me a fake excuse for an apology, you can leave. I don’t want it.”

The familiar sound of Vegeta’s grunting is just behind you and you can imagine the tense look on his face; you cant to smile at the thought of it but you keep your face still. 

He walks to where you’re standing, but you’re surprised to see his bare feet in the water. You’ve only seen him without his boots a rare number of times. It’s a part of his armor that he hardly ever removes.

“I don’t understand you,” you break the silence, glaring down at his reflection in the water. You grind your teeth together, hating the fact that you’re seeming so pitiful to him. You must appear weak; he must think so little of you.

Vegeta takes a small breath before speaking, “I cannot pretend to understand you earthlings either.”

“No, you don’t get to make this about me!” You find yourself heating up all over again, blush creeping up your neck to your cheeks. You stare straight at him, “You don’t get to pretend that I’m at fault here. You get to loiter yourself around, slinging yourself onto me so that other people, who are so afraid of you, will cower away from me! It’s so unfair, Vegeta!”

You scowl at him, crossing your arms over your chest to keep yourself from lashing out and trying to slap him. You’re not sure how he’d react, if he would in return lash out back at you. You know you couldn’t take a hit from the mighty Saiyan.

“Of course the earthlings fear me,” he scoffs, “why wouldn’t they? That doesn’t mean they won’t talk to you.”

A glower tightens your brow, “Are you kidding me?! You glow and scream a lot! When you’re tied to my hip every time we’re in public, what do you expect other people to think?!”

You swear you see the beginning of a smirk on his face, and you try to forget how attractive he would be if you weren’t so angry. You roll your eyes and stomp your foot in the water, a splash from the lake darkening your clothes.

“You are insufferable. Why do I continue to choose suffering?!” You run your hands through your hair and you can feel your voice beginning to flutter with nerves. “I get nowhere with you unless my love life is being threatened.”

Vegeta is lost for words, standing beside you with a grimace on his face. He turns his head to look you in the eyes, dark irises almost shining in the moonlight. He swallows and you see his throat bob, “It isn’t my fault that you’re blind, you foul woman.”

“Excuse me?!” you snap, throwing your arms to your sides as you turn to face him. “I’m blind?! How about you?!”

“Tch! I don’t know what you speak of.” Vegeta turns as you grow closer to him. You swear the faintest color of a blush is turning his skin pink, but you’re unable to focus on it as you grip him by the arm. 

“It’s because you’re this stupid Saiyan who cannot see anything further than his own fist in front of him!” You dig your fingers into his skin, forcing him to look at you. “You wouldn’t have to pretend to be something special to me if you’d just open your eyes and realize that you already are special to me. You mean the world to me and every time you walk off to some other battle that decides the fate of the planet, my heart drops all over again.”

Vegeta lets out a gasp from the back of his throat and you’re surprised that he doesn’t punt you across the courtyard or into the lake, given your intense grip on him. 

“Every time that you leave to go back to Whis and Beerus’s world, I lose a year off my life!” Tears blur your vision as you remember the way he came back damaged after the destroyer tournament. His body was crumpled, his armor cracked in all the wrong places. You shake your head and snatch your arm away from him, “I can’t sleep at night when you’re not here and then when you are, I get this back and forth with you that makes my head hurt.”

“Well I can’t help that every time I see you looking at me like I put the planets in the sky, words escape me! It’s like you put me up on this pedestal and I could never live up to what you think of me!”

You’re lost for words at his admission, staggering back a step, the lake water lapping against your calves. Your mouth is gaping and you’re surprised he doesn’t have a snide comment for your appearance. 

“B-But you already think so highly of yourself,” you swallow, blinking a few times to try and clear your senses. “Wh-Why do you have a difficulty understanding how much I think of you?”

Vegeta turns his head, squinting down at the ground so he doesn’t have to look at you. He sighs, reluctant to admit his next words, “I-I can spew words of how proud and mighty I am all day, little woman. It doesn’t mean I always believe it.”

You are emboldened enough to reach up and touch his jaw, “Vegeta...”

He wraps his bare hand around your wrist, but does not stray from you. You’re surprised that he does not cower away from your touch. It gives you the courage to take a step closer and press your free palm against his chest, curling your fingers around his breastplate.

“I want you to want me when there’s no one else around,” you tell him, taking a chance. You force your eyes to focus on his, “I hate that I only feel important to you when someone else could possibly have me. I can’t keep doing this, Vegeta. I don’t care if you think I’m weak.”

“Weak?!” he snaps. He turns your chin upward so he can get a better look at your face, and also to brush his thumb against your lower lip. “Don’t you know that I would not be so attracted to you if you were not the strongest woman I know? You may not be a real Saiyan, little woman, but you are a human force to be reckoned with. I fear for any mortal who stands in your way.”

That prompts a smile on your face, your knees weak at his commentary. You want to kiss him but you’re not sure if that’s something that Saiyans understand.

“Human affection does not make sense to me,” he admits as if he were reading your mind. “However, I know it is what you will need to feel cared for.”

You can’t help the small giggle that parts your lips. You lean forward and rest your forehead against his shoulder. His warm palms rest against your lower back. It’s quiet for a few minutes and you’re more than confused as to why he’s allowing you to stand this way - anyone could find you at any point in time, embarrassing him for being so weak for an earthling.

You tilt your head in questioning, but it’s as if he knows the answer you wish to ask before you speak, “If anyone truly believes me to be weak for this, then I will strike them where they stand.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone. I didn’t want to embarrass you, I just got so angry.” You shake your head and swallow thickly, running your hands down his abdomen to rest at the base of his chest plate.

He presses his thumb just under your chin at the soft spot of your throat, using the sensitive flesh to force your eyes back to his. Vegeta is surprisingly smirking down at you, a fire in his pupils that makes something spark in your belly. 

“You being willing to stand up to me in front of all of those others was surprisingly attractive,” Vegeta is closer to you with each word until only a hairsbreadth separates your mouth from his. “It’s part of the reason I followed you out here.”

“What took you so long?” you ask in a breathy voice, your eyes threatening to flutter shut at the sensation of his closeness.

With the gentlest of touches, he guides you until your chests are pressed firm to one another, hand against the base of your back. His mouth slots over yours and he’s firm but careful when he kisses you. Your palms rest against his neck, the tips of your fingers just barely brushing against the hair at the base of his head. 

You are the first to pull away, Vegeta trying to follow you with the tilt of his chin. He grunts at the loss of contact and the sound makes you laugh. You press your lips to his cheek, “I’m starting to freeze. Think we can take this somewhere else?”

Vegeta has you in a bridal carry before you can take your next breath. He’s flying in the air, your body held tightly in his grip, “I have an idea of a few places we can take this.”

You notice that you’re headed to his room at Capsule Corp, and your body lights up at the thought of what is to come next. 

a/n: hope you loved it!!!!!!!!! please let me know if you’d like to read more :) 

[softspiderling]

put in love and don’t give up | t.h.

Summary: honestly, you never pegged Tom for the kind of guy that ghosts people, but here you are. Ghosted.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Harder by Jax Jones feat. Bebe Rexha

Author’s Note: it’s been a hot minute since I last posted a fic and bc @afangirlwashere made me feel bad for not posting shit, I’m back on my update schedule for now. This is somewhat based on a dream I’ve had about tom I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: angst, I guess? Also cursing probably

Word Count: 2,4k

gif is not mine!

It’s not like Tom owes you anything.

You went out for a couple of dates and apparently it just wasn’t working out for him. Even though you had thought that the dates were pretty great; you’re interested in the same things, your goals in life are similar and you’re just- on the same wavelength. Or that’s what you had thought.

YOU: Trying to take care of the mess that is my flat but instead I’m on my couch procrastinating by watching a bunch of YouTube videos.

YOU: Someone should take away my phone.

The timestamp on the text tells you that it’s been a whole two weeks since he read it. At first you thought he was busy and he’d text you back when he got the time, but you never received any reply. You had thought about double texting him, maybe he hadn’t replied because the text you had sent didn’t involve a question that’d get him to reply, but if Tom had wanted to keep texting you, he would have found an answer that kept the conversation right? So you fought the urge to send another text, but that didn’t stop you from staring at the texts every now and then when you had the time.

You even tried calling him, but that was just as fruitless; for a minute, you were worried that something had happened to him, but later that day Tom had posted a story from him and Sam at a pub. So he was fine, it’s just you that seemed to have been the problem.

But that’s fine.

You can handle rejection, that’s something you had to get used to when it came to dating in your twenties, but you never would have pegged Tom as a person who would ghost someone instead of just outright telling you that he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. But you really thought he did, with the way he was smiling at you and the interest he had showed in your degree.

It sounds cheesy but you thought he was different. Even though his job kind of scared you off at first, you couldn’t help yourself but fall for the sweet and down to earth guy he still managed to be despite his fame.

With a sigh, you exit out of the text chain and pull up your grocery list, eyes scanning the items in your cart. You’re only missing the milk and butter.

Pushing the cart towards the dairy section, you slide your phone back into the pocket of your jacket and keep your eyes open for your brand of milk, when raucous laughter pulls your attention to the corner where the dairy section meets the frozen section.

Curiously you lean over to find the source of the noise, only to see two familiar looking boys.

Harry, one of Tom’s younger brothers and Tuwaine, one of his best friends joking around next to their carts. You had gotten to know them when Tom invited you out for drinks with them. Another reason that confused you as to why he would introduce you to his brothers and friends if he wasn’t that into you.

“Hey guys,” you greet them, lifting your hand to wave at them awkwardly. Harry’s head perks up when he hears your voice and he smiles goofily at you, while Tuwaine returns the wave as they take a few steps towards you, their sides constantly colliding as if they are unable to walk straight.  

“Hey Y/N,” Harry says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heel of his feet. “Doing the weekly shopping?”

You nod and gesture towards your cart and its content. “Yeah, uh, just the basic stuff,” you said, narrowing your eyes when you glance into their carts.

“And you’re shopping for a party…?”

“What?” Tuwaine furrows his brows and turns back to look into his cart before turning back to you with a grin.

“No, it’s our basic stuff.”

“Christ,” you wince. “I really hope you’re going to the dentist regularly. I am pretty sure this amount of popsicles isn’t healthy.”

The boys shrug with laughter. “How have you been?” Harry wants to know and you give him a gentle smile.

“Fine. University’s keeping me busy. How are you guys?” you ask, hesitating. “How’s Tom?”

Tuwaine clears his throat awkwardly and Harry jabs his friend in the ribs with a glare. Your cheeks color; their awkwardness and embarrassment confirmed your fear.

So Tom is really ghosting you.

“We’re good. And Tom- he’s busy, working all the time, you know how he is,” Harry says, stumbling over his words.

“Do I though?”

The gentleness in your voice catch the boys off guard and Tuwaine rubs the back of his neck, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

Wow, what on earth moved you to even approach them? This is probably the most awkward situation you’ve ever put yourself into.

“Tom’s being an idiot,” he finally offers. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You grimace, appreciating his words but it still stings. But doesn’t rejection always sting? But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Tom didn’t even give you the courtesy of a rejection he just straight up started ignoring you.

Waving it off, you smile crookedly at him.

“It’s fine. He’s fine.”

You gesticulate wildly with your hands, to show them how fine it is. Judging by their expressions, it certainly doesn’t seem to convince them. Stilling your hands, you exhale softly.

“I’m not mad or anything,” you then sigh, defeated. “I’m just a little bit disappointed. But I’ll get over it, you guys don’t need to worry about it or anything.”

You thrum your palms against the handle of the cart, smacking your lips together. “Well, this has been enough awkwardness for today. Uhm, I’ll see you guys around?”

Leaving the question hanging in the air, you shoot them a tentative smile; their chorused “Bye Y/N!”s make you sigh. As you turn around the corner, you hear them squabbling and you strain your ears to find out, what it is about.

“Congrats Tuwaine, this was probably the most uncomfortable situation I’ve ever had.”

“What are you looking at me for? It’s not my fault! If it’s anyone’s, it’s Tom’s!”

There’s a pause and you can hear someone sigh.

Then:

“I know it is. He’s just scared, you know how important his privacy is to him. Maybe Harrison can talk to him when he gets back. But I get it though, he’s-“

You almost bump your cart into an old lady, too busy trying to eavesdrop their conversation.

“Young lady!” The lady sends you a menacing glare and you apologize half-heartedly, too distracted by what you’ve just heard.

What was Harry talking about? What did he mean when he said that Tom was scared? You’re confused, you thought you had a clear picture of why he had stopped texting you. Lost in thoughts, you make your way to the check out, and put your groceries on the counter to get rung up.

By the time you get home you still haven’t figured out what it was that Tom is scared of and you almost break your brain trying to think of a logical explanation.

As you’re lying in bed that night, you come to the conclusion that you might never find out what Harry was talking about and see no point in obsessing over something that you are unable to change, so you push the matter in the far back of your mind, hoping that you would soon forget about it. But that is easier said than done, right?

Over the weekend you try your hardest to forget about the encounter with Harry and Tuwaine, stopping your brain from trying to find a solution to Tom’s problem you know nothing about and it’s harder than you thought it would be.

Even your readings for your business class seem to be offering basically no distraction whatsoever, which is why you find yourself at a small café down the street Sunday afternoon. With the sunlight filtering through the window, throwing the busy café in a shade of warm orange, you sit by the window with your text marker, scanning your assigned readings and occasionally marking a passage or two.

“I’m sorry, Miss?”

You look up from your text, your vision a little blurry before finally recognizing the barista standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“We’re closing in five minutes,” she tells you and your eyes widen as you take in your surroundings. You’ve been so engrossed in the article you’ve been reading, you hadn’t realized how late it has gotten: the lights have long been turned on in the café and you’ve noticed that all the chairs and tables have been cleared except of the one you’re currently occupying.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you apologize and scramble your documents together, stuffing them in your bag.

“It’s no problem, really,” the barista gives you a warm smile. “Have a nice evening.”

You shoulder your bag and send her a small wave as you headed through the door.

“Thanks! You too!”

The darkness from outside catches you by surprise and you pull your cardigan tighter around your chest, starting your walk back home. Hearing your stomach grumble, you’re reminded of the lack of food your day has brought and while you turn the corner to your flat, you try to come up with a quick meal with the ingredients you know you have at home.

Rummaging in your bag for your keys as you get closer to your building door, you finally manage to grasp the small fluffy key chain from the depth of your bag and lift your head. That’s when you see Tom sitting on the steps that lead up to the door.

You still and he jumps up, dusting off his pants. He looks tired, the denim jacket was slung tightly around his torso and you’re pressing your lips together before slowly taking a few steps towards him.

“Hey,” you greet him wearily. “What are you doing here?”

Tom rubs the back of his neck. “Hi Y/N. I, uh-“ he gestures towards the steps he’s just been sitting on. “I’ve been waiting for you uh, here. Been here for a while actually. “

“Oh. Why didn’t you call?”

He ducks his hand and his hands disappear into the pockets of his denim jacket. “Wasn’t sure if you’d pick up.”

You look at him with an unreadable expression and the keys dangle from your hand as you unlock the door, keeping it open with the heel of your shoe.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask, and he nods before following you inside and to your flat. He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you close your door behind you and take off your shoes, before moving to your couch, immediately taking refuge under your fluffy blanket.

Tom on the other hand looks like he’s out of place as he stands in the middle of the room, his eyes darting around.

The tension between you two is palpable and even though you know it’s his turn to speak, you’re aware that he’s fighting to bring his thoughts into words.

“You know you didn’t have to come all this way to do this, right?” you finally say, clasping your hands together.

“To do what?”

“I got the hints, Tom and I also rant into Harry and Tuwaine the other day. You’re here to let me down easy,” you say, pulling your knees close to your torso and he gapes at you, slowly moving to sit on the couch, though the distance between you is still there.

“What? No! That’s not why I’m here, why-“ He breaks off, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “What did they tell you?”

You shrug. “That I didn’t do anything wrong and that you’re an idiot?”

“Well, I am an idiot,” Tom admits. “But not for the reason you think, I promise Y/N.”

“So you’re not here to break things off with me?”

He shakes his head and carefully reaches out to touch your hand which is resting on top of your knee. Your pinkie twitches and you eye his fingers inching slowly towards yours, but you don’t move your hand away. Tom takes your hand in his and looks at, his brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry I ignored you,” he says quietly. “It just… It’s so hard dating someone when you work in the movie industry. The media has no respect for your privacy and I really didn’t want to put you in harm’s way, especially with all the people who are weirdly insisting on me and Z being a couple-.”  

You didn’t realize that he felt this way. Even though you knew that he was struggling with all the attention, you thought he could handle it well, but apparently he’s an even better actor than you thought he was.

“I was so conflicted. I like you so much and I thought if I’d push you away, you’d move on. But when Harry told me how lovely you were being, still asking how I was doing even though I was being a jerk to you I realized how childish I was being. That I needed to be honest with you and let you decide for yourself if I am worth it or not.”

Tom chews on his lower lip as his voice quiets down and you squeeze his hand, giving him a soft smile.

“You’re right. You should have been honest with me,” you say. “Even though I am just a basic civilian-“

He snorts out a laugh and you grin at him.

“I can imagine how hard it can be in your line of work. But Tom, I’ve already been thinking of this since our first date. It’s not like I’m going completely blind into this. And you’re worth it, okay? Even if you’re an asshole who ignored me for two weeks.”

He ducks his head sheepishly and you shake your head fondly, moving your legs so he can come closer before he leans in to give you a quick kiss. You barely have the time to react and your cheeks redden, before the two of you lean in for another kiss.

Pulling away, Tom lets out a soft sigh and leans his forehead against yours.

“Thanks for giving me a second chance, Y/N. My brothers would have kicked my butt for losing someone as great as you.”

You shrug with your shoulders, a pleased smile on your face. So you did leave a good impression on Harry, despite your initial awkwardness.

“And you would have deserved it,” you point out and he grins, looping his arms around your waist.

“Trust me, I know.”

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[klynn-stormz]

Merry Christmas Indeed

Hi @thisonesatellite, I am your secret santa! here is your gift for @cssecretsanta2k19, I got this done a little earlier that I thought I would post this now! I hope you enjoy this and it lives up to your expectations! I am so grateful for the opportunity to get to know you and create this gift for you. This is a little bit of friends to lovers, with a dash of snowed in and a pinch of angst with a happy ending. 

Summary: 

Emma Swan has been best friends with Killian Jones since she was 8. When he suddenly disappears from her and her son’s life she thought she wasn’t enough. After finding out some secrets from an unfortunate ex, she decides to take the weekend before Christmas to figure out her feelings. So when Killian shows up to make sure she’s okay, she’s more than ready for some answers.

AO3

The cabin was settled far back off the little dirt road used for the National Park. The ground was covered in about six inches of snow from the previous few weeks, it glistened and sparkled in the mid-afternoon sun. The clearing for the cabin was small, cozy even, with tall thick trees surrounding and towering over it. Emma was lucky enough that the place had belonged to the Nolan’s long before the area was declared part of a National Park; it was the perfect way to get away for the week. With Christmas a few days away she was stressed enough, but after the enlightening breakfast at her parents’ house she really needed an escape. The jeep David had let her borrow navigated the snow easily, it wasn’t supposed to start snowing for another few hours, time enough for her to get all her supplies for the week into the cabin and start warming it up. David had reminded her of the generator in the back in case power went out, the storm wasn’t supposed to be too bad, but you never could be sure in Maine in December.

Emma closed her eyes briefly to listen to the quiet forest around her, she had only been here once or twice before, and always with David and Mary Margaret. At 25 years old she had only known her parents for eight years. They had been young when they had had her. After a lot of deliberation, arguing, family intervention and so on, they had decided to give her up for adoption. She was given to the Swan’s days after birth; when she was three, they were still in the process of adoption and found out they were having another baby, they didn’t want her anymore. Emma moved from foster home to foster home, never finding a place she fit. She had seen all kinds of ‘parents’ and been through hell with many of the homes, she met her best friend in the world though, and that was worth a lot. Eventually she ended up in a Boston foster home where her parents tracked her down at sixteen.

The jeep rolled to a stop near the front steps and she hopped out into the cold. For just a moment she took in the silence of the forest, living in a small town had gotten her used to quiet, but there was something almost magical about being all alone in the wood, she loved to wander and explore, though it was much too cold right now to do any of that. The cold wind whipped and whistled through the thick trees, creating a beautiful melody Emma hoped to fall asleep to. For a moment she considered unloading the car and sitting on the porch for a little bit, but she dispelled that thought quickly. She’d rather get settled in for the night. She had had a horrible day, which had come from a few horrible months, she needs to rest and think, that’s why she was here.

Her thoughts turned to her best friend, the one who had stuck by her through all the homes and moves, who had been noticeably absent the past few months. She had found out why early this morning, she wasn’t sure how to feel, it hurt, it made her angry, it made her sad. She sighed and hoped she would figure out what she wanted to do over the next few days. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out to find that Henry had texted her from Regina’s phone. He was the best thing to ever happen to her. Her little seven-year-old was the light of her life.

Mom! Gina snow gave me the phone to tell u I luv u! Thanks for letting me sleep at rolands for the week! We will have so much fun! She grinned at his words, thank heavens for autocorrect or she may not have understood him. Her little boy was growing up faster than she liked, and she was grateful to be a part of every moment. She sent a quick ‘I love you’ back and began unloading the car. — It was nearly midnight and she hadn’t managed to fall asleep. Her mind was still replaying the last few months, and especially this morning. When everything had come out she had bundled Henry up, dropped him off at a willing and worried Regina’s, and bolted for the cabin. Her mom and dad had been texting her nonstop since she left, trying to apologize and get her to come back, but she needed to think. It wasn’t that she didn’t see where they were coming from, it wasn’t even that she was mad at them. What she was mad at was that the entire situation came about because her ex thought he could come back into her life and she would jump into his arms. She was mad that it had been her best friend who had gotten hurt and decided to back off. Emma sighed a clutched her hot chocolate to her chest, she wished she had someone she could just spill the whole story too. As if on cue, a hard knock sounded at the front door.

Emma jumped off the couch, grabbed the gun she kept close. No one lived out here; the closest cabin was miles away. She figured it was probably David or Mary Margaret, tired of her ignoring their calls and texts, but you could never be too careful. When she flung open the door she startled, he was the last person she had been expecting. The night was dark, but not pitch black; the storm clouds in the sky cast an eerie white light she knew meant it would snow soon. He stood on the porch, wrapped in a thick black coat, jeans, a dark gray beanie, and his well-worn motorcycle boots.

Killian Jones was probably the most handsome man Emma had ever seen. It had taken her a long time to realize it though, having known him since she was 8 before she noticed boys. But he really was, seriously hot. His square jaw was lightly covered with stubble, she had the strong urge to rub her face on. His beautiful, brilliant blue eyes shined from the cabin porch light, a soft hopeful smile on his lips as he took her in. God, she wanted to throw her arms around him and cry, maybe never let go. It was this line of thought that drew her back from him, she could not deal with those thoughts when she was still struggling with everything.

“Jones.” She said softly, taking a step back into the cabin. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to- “He paused and cleared his throat; his right hand came up to scratch behind his ear. “I thought I’d come check on you.”

“You thought you’d come check on me.” She repeated, testing the words out. With them came a rush of her emotions from the last few months. “Why? You’ve been ignoring me for months now, and just happened to decide to come visit me? Who called you? Mary Margaret? Regina? Oh hell, it if was Ruby…”

Killian winced at the flatness of her tone. “May I come in love? Please?”

“Fine, but first.” She moved in front of him, her eyes fired with emotion. “I’m not your love, you lost that right when you disappeared.”

He nodded mutely and continued inside, a duffle bag she hadn’t noticed before, slung over his shoulder. She walked back into the living room, her mind racing with what she was going to do. Let him talk? Rant at him? Both? She wasn’t quite sure, hopefully she could send him back to town in the morning. Her phone rang and she glanced at it, Killian had made his way to the guest bedroom to set his stuff down. Ruby was calling.

“You bitch!” She growled into her phone when she answered.

“Hello to you too!” Ruby cheered back, not put out in the slightest by Emma’s menacing tone. “I sent a Christmas present your way. Have fun!”

“First, Christmas isn’t till Tuesday! There are four more days. Second, this isn’t a present this is a punishment! What the hell Ruby?”

“You missed him, he missed you. You had a stupid fight with your loving but overwhelming parents over the fact that your will never get with your ex, you haven’t talked to your best friend in months. This is totally a present, now you have Killian all to yourself and nobody to pester you.”

“He’ll pester me! Ruby, really, I appreciate the thought… I really do, but he was the one who stopped talking, he was the one who just left out of the blue. I really don’t need this today; I came to get away from the mess that is my life.” Emma blew out a breath and rubbed a hand down her face.

“What was that? You’re breaking up!” Ruby called, before promptly hanging up.

Emma sighed, she was so done with today, hell she was done with this year. When she turned from her place at the living room window she saw Killian standing there awkwardly, it was obvious he had heard at least the end of the conversation. She wasn’t going to feel bad, everything she said was the truth. He had ignored her, just left her, and it wasn’t even only her that he left. When he stopped talking to her, that meant Henry too. She wasn’t sure how to get over that.

“Lov—Lass I came to explain myself, if that helps put you at ease.” He began haltingly. “If we could just talk for a moment Emma, then I’ll leave, please.” The last part took on a begging tone.

All of the sudden the weight of the day seemed to crash down on her, she was exhausted. Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she thought back to earlier in the year when he had told her she needed to start meditating.

“Swan, I’m telling you! It’s god for your soul.” He was playing on the living room floor with Henry, telling her about whatever new fad he had discovered.

“I think my soul will be just fine Jones.” She rolled her eyes at him, knowing that she would probably indulge him anyway. “Alright boys, pizza’s here, go wash up.”

That had been one of the last times she had spent time with him. It was memories like that that never failed to make her smile and hurt these days. After he had started to ignore her, she had actually looked into meditation, and found that it did help, at the very least if gave her exercises to calm herself down and put things in perspective. When she opened her eyes, she made her decision.

“Not tonight Killian, you can explain yourself over breakfast before you leave.” Emma was proud her voice didn’t shake or falter.

Killian nodded, bowing his head slightly. “Then let me say good night Swan, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She moved past him to the master suite. And to her surprise, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. —

Earlier that day

Christmas time in Storybrooke seemed like something out of a movie, Emma was fairly sure she had seen the street decorations on a Hallmark movie she’d watched last night. Waking up early, she played in the snow with Henry, who was excited for the light snowfall, and headed to her parent’s farmhouse for their traditional Saturday breakfast. Henry was babbling away, asking to spend the night with Roland, Regina’s new stepson, and wanting to know when Killian would drop by for decorating the Christmas tree. At that last question, Emma felt a squeeze in her heart, she doubted that he would be coming around anytime soon. The last time they had seen him was August 12th, and that was in passing, he had greeted Henry, gave Emma a small smile, and hurried away. The sting of that last encounter was still fresh.

They turned into the long drive of the farmhouse, it was settled on a few acres of land, and that’s when Emma noticed a car that hadn’t wasn’t familiar to her. She frowned, it wasn’t uncommon for Mary Margaret to invite people to their Saturday breakfast, but she normally gave Emma a head up first. Since Killian hadn’t been coming to breakfast, her mother had taken it upon herself to make Emma feel better by inviting many random people over.

“Gramma! Gramma!” Henry cried as Emma helped him out of the bug. Mary Margaret stood on the porch, only a light shawl wrapped around her shoulders despite the freezing temperatures. She beamed at Henry, ushering him inside to help his grandpa with setting the table.

“Honey! You were running a little late, I was getting worried.” Mary Margaret admonished.

“Henry was excited about the snow.” Emma explained, “He insisted on playing in it before we came over.”

Mary Margaret laughed. “Well shall we eat? Oh! I also invited a special guest over.” She said slyly.

Emma frowned, a feeling of unease twisting in her stomach. “Mom, you’re not going to try setting me up, again are you? I don’t want that, and I definitely don’t want that in front of Henry. Remember Walsh? Graham? August?” She could go on, but hoped she’d made her point.

“Oh no! This is much better sweety! You’ll see! I promise it’s a good surprise.” And then she was hustled into the warm house.

Her mother chattered about her week, moving her to the kitchen. It seemed to Emma that she wasn’t giving her a chance to back out. Her urge to take Henry and run was now going into overtime. Her bad feeling increased when she hears multiple male voices coming from the dining room, and then her vision went slightly red when she recognized the unknown voice. Neal.

She turned to her mother. “You didn’t, tell me you didn’t.”

Mary Margaret kept an innocent look on her face, while a slight gleam in her eye told Emma she in face did do it. She had invited Emma’s horrible ex, Henry’s father, to dinner with them. Neal had shown up back in town in early August, claiming he wanted another chance with her and time with Henry. How dare she keep him from him. She, of course, explained that he had lost those rights to see him when he had set her up for his crime and ran. Never mind the fact that the police had tracked him down at her request and told him about the pregnancy, never mind that he had willingly signed his rights away. When he threatened to sue for custody, her mother had suggested that they try to make their relationship work again. She was a firm believer in true love, and first loves. Neal hadn’t backed down, so even now, Emma was in the process of talking with a lawyer to make sure Henry would be staying with her. Mary Margaret couldn’t understand why Emma wouldn’t give Neal another chance, and she didn’t want to go through all the reasons they were wrong for each other. Including but not limited to the fact that Neal was 26 when he and Emma met, while she was 17.

She walked into the kitchen as calmly as she could, but couldn’t stop from stiffening when Neal came into view. Holding onto Henry, who was trying to squirm to the floor. He was at the age that he didn’t like to be held.

“Neal.” Emma spoke coolly. “Henry doesn’t want to be held.”

Neal rolled his eyes and set Henry down. He understood who Neal was, Emma had sat him down and explained a lot when Neal had first come to town. Killian had been there as well to help him, Emma remembered how worried Henry was that Killian would leave because Neal came back. Of course, Killian had told Henry he would never leave, and then just weeks later, had done just that. She really needed to stop thinking about him, it was not helping her.

“Let’s eat!” Mary Margaret called. The table was filled with their usual ginormous breakfast that they could never finish. So, Emma and Henry were sent home with piles of leftovers.

Once they were all seated, they dug in and talked about random topics. Mostly how Henry was liking second grade, and the fun arts and crafts he was doing. Emma was quiet through most of it, not wanting to talk to Neal, and annoyed at her parents for pushing her when she’d asked them not too. It wasn’t until Henry started talking about the summer that she paid attention and jumped into the conversation.

“And then after schools done, Killian said he’d take me sailing. Gramma did you know he knows how to nava—nava—travel by stars? He said he learned in the Navy! And his ship is huge! It looks like a pirate ship! I think I want to be a pirate for Halloween next year, and Killian can be a pirate too. He couldn’t come trick or treating this year cause he had to work, but I think he’ll be able to next year. He always comes with us. Anyway, he’s gonna show me how to be a real sailor. And Ms. Belle at the library gave me books on sailing and the pictures are awesome! Mom have you asked Killian if he’s coming to my parent job day? It happens in January and he said he would come, but he has lots of work right now and I don’t want him to forget, so you have to remind him.” Henry’s happy voice chattered while stuffing his face with waffles and bacon.

Neal had gone silent at Henry’s turn in conversation. Mary Margaret and David looked uncomfortable. And Emma was annoyed at their reactions more than anything. Killian had been a staple in Henry’s life since he was born, he was there on visiting days at the jail after she’d found out she was pregnant. He was there when they let Emma out after 6 months. He was there when her water had broken just before they were going to visit her parents. He was there in the room with her coaxing her to keep going. He was the first person besides her to hold Henry. He had been there for every single milestone and had more right that Neal did, to be apart of Henry’s life.

“I’ll go to your Parents’ Day with you.” Neal announced. “After all, I’m your father. Killian isn’t. He doesn’t have any right to go!”

“That’s a great idea! Won’t that be fun Henry?” Mary Margaret chimed in brightly.

Emma tensed more when Henry frowned. “But I want Killian to go. He said he would. He’s my friend!” His voice began to tremble, his lower lip poking out. It was time to put an end to it. Even if Killian had up and disappeared on her, he always spoke to Henry when they crossed paths.

“Of course, Killian will be going with you Henry.” Emma comforted, glaring at the other adults, David was the only one who looked chagrined. “He’s never broken a promise to you sweety. In fact, I’ll talk to him in a few days just to confirm.”

Henry calmed down, appeased by her answer. They finished eating in a tense silence, only Henry seemed unaffected. When he asked to be excused to go play in the snow, Emma agreed and made sure he was out the doors before she turned to the other three in the room. Let them say their piece first, she decided. She would let them try to explain, excuse and defend; and then she would give them a piece of her mind.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret began. “Neal deserves to have a bit of a relationship with Henry.”

Neal quickly interrupted, standing from the table. “Look you can’t keep my kid from me! I AM going to parent’s day because he’s MY son. If he doesn’t like it then he’ll have to get over it. I deserve a place in his life, so it’s time for you to get over yourself, because he obviously wants his parents to be together. So, if you would stop being so damn stubborn then maybe we could actually get somewhere. Instead I have to rely on talking to your mom about what you and Henry are up to. And if this continues Emma, I swear I’ll fight for full custody.”

“There’s no need to get mad Neal!” Mary Margaret looked surprised at his outburst. David was about to say something but Emma held up a hand to stop both of them. She leveled a look at Neal.

“Let me be very very clear Neal.” Her voice was soft and deadly. “You are Henry’s father; I’m not disputing that. But you have no rights to him, when you sent me to jail and I found out I was pregnant I didn’t want you in his life at all.”

“I’ve explained that that wasn’t my fault!” Neal began, but was stopped by Emma again.

“The police found you, they asked if you wanted anything to do with your son.”

“I thought they were lying!” He claimed, then withered under her glare.

“You signed your rights away to me, regardless of whether you though they were lying, you signed those rights away. I’ve been in contact with a lawyer,” She almost scoffed at the surprised look on everyone’s faces. “You didn’t think that I would take your threats, lightly did you? You have no legal right to him, I will let you visit him, because he does deserve to know his father. But I have a stable job, a house and a support system. No matter how much money you throw at anyone one, they will look at my record versus yours and I will win.” She paused to let all of that sink in.

“Now onto the Killian issue. He is my best friend. He is, for all intents and purposes, no matter how much any of you don’t like it, Henry’s father. No!” She said loudly when they began to protest. “He might not be Henry’s biological father, but he has been more of a dad to him than you will ever be able to be. He is non-negotiable. He will always be in Henry’s life and there is nothing any of you can say to change that.” Even if he wouldn’t be a part of her life, her heart hurt.

“I knew he was lying when he said he’d back off!” Neal spat. “How long have you been sleeping with him? Probably since before us, but listen, just cause you are willing to whore yourself out to him.”

“That’s enough!” David sprang to his feet, a murderous gleam in his eyes. “You DO NOT talk about my daughter like that. I may have gone along with this stupid plan to try and bring you and Emma back together, but not anymore. I’ve seen enough of you to know that you will never be good enough for my daughter and if you think that you can compare to Killian and what he has done for her, you’ve lost your damn mind. Now get out of my house.” Emma was sure that if she had been paying attention, she would have seen her father wind up for the punch, but she was stuck on Neal’s words. The punch sent him sprawling to the floor, not knocking him out though. When David went to throw him out Emma spoke.

“Wait!” He halted and she moved closer to Neal. “What did you mean he said he’d back off?”

Neal sneered and winced as it hurt his face. “I told him that we were going to get back together but that I needed him gone to make sure you weren’t distracted. You think I haven’t seen the yearning dopey eyed looks? Mary Margaret explained to him that I am Henry’s real dad and he deserves a real family”

“I don’t yearn.” Emma defended, her mind whirling as the last few months fell into place.

“Maybe you don’t, but he does. And he agreed to back off so Henry could have a real family.”

“Get out.” She said, and turned to check on Henry.

She helped him pack up his stuff, they had been planning on staying the night. And said she was going to let him have a sleepover with Roland. Her mom watched with wringing hands as she rushed around to gather all her stuff.

“Emma if I had known—” She began, but Emma stopped her. She asked David to put Henry in the car.

“Mary Margaret, I know you meant well, but this isn’t something I can just overlook. What you did affected not just me but my son. You knew what Neal did to me and you still pushed me towards him, no matter what I said to you. You’ve never accepted Killian, ever, but you accept the man who wrongfully sent me to jail? I can’t just get over that. I need to think.” She was aware as she watched her mothers face crumple that she hadn’t called her Mary Margaret in years, but she sure wasn’t acting like a mother at the moment. She moved to leave and was stopped by David.

“I know you need to think. I called Regina to make sure she knows Henry is coming, she’s ready for him. Here,” He handed her the keys to his jeep. “I put everything in my jeep, take Henry to Regina’s and go to the Cabin. The GPS in the jeep has the coordinates. Take your time sweetheart.” He looked at her sincerely. “I am so sorry, and when you are ready we’ll talk.” — She woke up the next morning and everything came rushing back to her. She stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, it was time to get some more answers. After dressing she moved out to the kitchen and saw Killian sitting at the table. Hot chocolate was sitting across from him, he was staring out the window looking sad and nervous. When she glanced out the window she groaned, causing him to jump. She moved closer to the window and stared at the snow. There was too much, no way either of them was going anywhere for the next few days.

“Swan, I’ve made breakfast. Help yourself.” She went over to the stove to scoop some eggs and bacon onto her plate. When she was seated across from him, she took him in. Last night she wasn’t able to see the dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair was sticking in different directions from him running his fingers through it. But in the light of the day, she could clearly see the lack of sleep, from more than just last night. He looked worn.

“Alright Jones. I want to know what the hell you’re doing here. I want to know why you decided to just up and ignore me for the past four months. I want to know why you broke your promise to me and just disappeared from my life. I want to—” She broke off as her throat tightened, she was not going to cry in front of him, that would just be the perfect end to a shitty few months.

“Please let me explain. I’m not looking to excuse my actions Swan, nor am I looking for you to forgive me. If you’ll just hear me out, I swear I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the time we’re stuck here.”

She nodded for him to continue, bracing herself for his explanation.

“Neal came to me in August, a few weeks after he came back. He wanted me to back off and I refused. You’re my best friend Emma, I wasn’t just going to leave you. He got angry of course, accused both of us of some untoward things. I walked away. You have to know Emma; I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I had too.” He paused to take a drink and calm down. “Your mom came with him the next time. They sat me down and explained that the only thing holding you back from Neal was me. Mary Margaret said you would be happy with Neal, that you wanted to forgive him and move on, to give Henry a real family. She said—” He stopped, looking away from her. “She said I wasn’t good enough for you and that you needed someone to rely on. I asked if she thought Neal was reliable considering what he did. She said yes. They talked to me three more times before I agreed to step back. I just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. Ruby called me and said you’d had a falling out, that ended in David punching Neal and kicking him out. I came to make sure you were okay.”

“Why?” She asked.

He blinked. “Why what?”

“Why do you want me to be happy?” She stared intensely at him, and he knew what she was really asking. So, he mentally steeled himself and answered.

“Because I love you Emma, and I want you to have everything you deserve.”

She was silent for a moment, then burst. “You asshole!” She shouted, Killian was taken aback, unsure of what to say.

“You left! You decided that because you loved me and thought that you weren’t good enough that you would just leave?! That you would just BACK OFF.” Her voice was a near screech, only broken by the obvious emotion in it. “Did you think about what I wanted? About what Henry wanted? You bastard!”

Killian was speechless, he had not expected for the conversation to go like this, he had expected her to still kick him out, though he really couldn’t leave with all the snow. And he hadn’t expected the sadness that overrode the anger in her tone.

“You tell me you love me and you say that’s why you left. You are the only one that has been through everything with me. That has stood by me, what did you think I thought of you? That you were a nice consolation prize since my stupid ex was an idiot? Do you think so little of me, that I would go back to him when I’m obviously in love with you? That I would just drop you like you aren’t the best thing to have happened to me besides Henry? That you aren’t already Henry’s father? That we haven’t been dating for who knows how long already?”

“W-What?” Killian Stuttered.

“I mean, neither of us have had a date in years, we were together every week. And I didn’t even realize we were dating until you decided to just ghost me, but we have been and you thought I’d give that up for NEAL?! NEAL?”

“I’m going to need you to back up. I may have misheard.” Killian said carefully.

“I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT!!” She practically screamed at him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since you threw that snowball at Jesse Martin when I made fun of my Sunday dress, when I was eight. I love you, and I’ve been afraid to say it, but now that I know why you left. I just—” Finally the tears fell.

Killian was up and around the table in record time. He scooped her up and settled them down on the couch, holding her close. While she cried, he whispered comforts into her ear. He was a bloody idiot. The conversation he’d had with his brother a week ago came to mind. Liam had berated him for being a moron when I came to ignoring Emma, telling him that she missed him and wouldn’t care that her mother didn’t approve.

“Do you really want her back with that wanker?” Liam had demanded.

It had stuck with him and gave him the resolve to talk to her, after Christmas, because he was to much of a coward to deal with rejection before it. Now he saw what a bloody asshole he had been. And now that he knew she felt the same, well he’d be damned if he made the same mistake again. When she had calmed down and wiped away her tears, she ran to the bathroom to compose herself, he let her; when she came back, she looked better, but exhausted.

“I’ve been an idiot.” He confessed, causing her to snort in agreement. “Emma, I love you and Henry so much, I thought if I backed off that you would be happy. Liam made me realize last week that I was lost without you two. I need you more than I can explain. I am so deeply sorry for how much I’ve hurt you. If you don’t forgive me, I’ll understand, but I need you to know that not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.” When he was finished, he looked at her anxiously.

“How do I know it won’t happen again?” Emma looked back with the same anxiety as he felt.

“Have you ever known me to make the same mistake twice?” He asked, her small smile gave him a sliver of hope. “I can’t promise I won’t mess up. You know that more than anyone, we’ve fought over the years, both said stupid things, but I will never let you go if you say you’re mine. You are the most precious treasure I’ve ever come into contact with. I swear to you that you and Henry are my life. I love you more every day I spend with you, and missed you more every day I didn’t.”

Emma breathed deep. “Then I forgive you Killian Jones. And expect you to do some pretty hard groveling.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he’d dreamed. It was everything and more, like the world stood still for that one perfect moment, to let them bask in the rightness of it. His heart seemed to beat in time with hers. No matter what came, his heart now belonged to her. Emma felt the same, as his soft lips moved against hers, she could see their future. She could see their eventually wedding, their home, their second child (because of course Henry was already his in every way that counted.), growing old with him. It all fell into place with that kiss.

He moved back to stare at her, the love in his eyes making the blue shine. “I’ll grovel every damn day for the rest of our lives. And now that we’re together, I have so many thoughts on where to begin.” HE wiggled his brows and she laughed, pulling him closer to kiss him.

“Well, we are stuck here for a few more days yet. Let’s see what you’ve got sailor.” She let out a squeak when he swung her into his arms.

“That’s lieutenant to you Swan.” He murmured, his voice deepening as he made his way to the master bedroom. Thinking of how this would be the best Christmas of his life.

“Remind me to thank Ruby when we get back to town.” Her voice breathless with anticipation. Merry Christmas indeed.

— Three years later

Emma curled on the cabin couch with her husband, watching ten-year-old Henry show his little one-year-old sister Hope all the ornaments on the tree. She could here her parents in the kitchen, laughing and preparing dinner. Killian kissed her forehead and leaned down to kiss her stomach.

“Only a two more months little one,” He murmured. “You ready for another Mrs. Jones?”

“Absolutely Mr. Jones.” She responded.

And in the firelight, she reflected on her life, how perfect everything was. She had everything thing that mattered in life.

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

Neuron, Ch.6

Bucky x Named (Mutant) Reader

Warnings: violence, some torture, some language, mostly though just a lot of angst and me attempting to write a fight scene... I think that’s it

Masterlist

Word count: 4637, it’s about to get real

Note: If you don’t care about this and the “Keep Reading” thing for some reason doesn’t happen, I apologize.  Not gonna lie, this is the chapter I’ve been wanting to write since I started and I am excited.  Gifs are still not mine.  Bucky Barnes is life, he is the grease-ball light of my life.

“Strucker has Bucky.”

Your eyes snapped open, a sharp throb in your chest.  Fully awake, you were aware that your arm had gone numb from resting your head on it, but you could clearly hear Tony’s conversation with Steve.

“Slow down, what happened?” You stayed as still as you could, feigning sleep.  Lucky for you, you’d fallen asleep facing the side of the jet.

Steve’s voice was shaky, “The train was a trap.  We were already on the connection to Florence when Wanda spotted her across the station. They separated us, and I lost him. Just like last time.”

“What’s the plan, Cap?”

“Strucker’s headed for Genoa, coastal city.  But we need to regroup before going after them.  We’re on the way back to the jet now.”

“Okay,” Tony continued quietly, “What should I tell Denna?”

Steve sighed, “Nothing, yet; she’ll want to go after him.”  Damn straight.  “Wait until we get back.”

Your blood boiled. Strucker had Bucky.  Hydra had Bucky.  Again.  And it was your fault.  You’d told Steve to take him along.  You’d encouraged him to go.  And they wouldn’t even be after him if it wasn’t for protecting him.  You didn’t even go with him.  And Steve.  What the hell?  Nothing?  Oh, you were going to have some words.  Right after you cleaned up your mess and got Bucky the hell away from those nutjobs. You didn’t want to know what they planned on doing to him.  You didn’t want to think about it.  But you’d heard the stories.

You had to get him out of there.

The comm clicked off and you heard Tony swear, “Fuck,” before opening the hatch and storming out. You waited a heartbeat before you jumped up, rubbing some feeling back into your limb.  Genoa.  That’s where Strucker was going, and that’s where you were going.

Still sitting where Tony had put him, the General’s smug smile caught your attention.  Hot and humid anger rose in you.

“What’s in Genoa?” you asked him through gritted teeth.

He smiled viciously back at you.  “We’ve only reclaimed what was ours.  You can’t save him now.”

You backhanded him, hard. “Tell me.”

“Or what, you gonna hit me again, little girl?”  His handcuffs slipped off and before you knew it, he had you on the floor.  “I’m so scared.”

“You should be.” Rolling your eyes, the neurons flew from your fingertips effortlessly.  He sat back down with some effort, jaw clenched.  You did not want to hear him speak.  “You are out of your depth, General.”  You snatched the mangled bobby him out of his hand before snapping the handcuffs back on. The look of absolute hatred in his eyes fueled your own, and you let a menacing grin overtake your expression.

You continued, “Maybe Strucker deigned to keep you in the dark; let me illuminate the subject. First off, I have more power than you, learn to accept it.  Second, I will save my friend.  And third, you are going to help me.  Questions?”

You cut off the flow of neurons you sent to his mouth.  He opened it tentatively and said, “Why would I help you, you freak?”  Your grin widened dangerously.

“Because you’re scared. And you don’t want to find out what I’ll do if you don’t.”

He eyed you suspiciously, as if you were either a deadly spider or a piece of fuzz, and he was waiting for you to move.  You hoped he wouldn’t call your bluff; you didn’t want to hurt him.  You wanted to find Bucky.  “Genoa is Strucker’s operational base.  I’ve never been, but there’s a headquarters there, outside the city of course.”

The grin slipped off your face and you relaxed.  High school theater had, apparently, been somewhat useful after all.

Okay, okay.  A base in Genoa.  You could get to Genoa; Strucker had taken a train, so could you. Probably.  As long as they took Discover.  The only problem, what were you going to do when you got to Genoa? This base wasn’t going to be on the map. And even if you managed to find it, you couldn’t just waltz in and demand they release Bucky and promise not to follow you home.

You chewed your thumbnail. Of course, there was a way you could do just that.  But it meant allowing Hydra to capture you and hoping they made the mistake of putting their two newest prisoners in the same room.  You considered a moment, then shrugged.  It was the only plan you had, and the minutes were ticking away.

Rolling your shoulders back in preparation you strode out of the jet.  You’d seen a bus stop sign in the airport, hopefully the walk there wouldn’t be too long, you estimated thirty minutes.

“Denna.”  Tony stood behind you, guilt written all over his face.

“Mr. Stark, we both know you can’t stop me, please don’t try.”

“You’re a civilian, I can’t let you go alone.”  

You shook your head, “We might spook them, and they could kill him before we even got close.”

He sighed, heavy. “You’re right.  Take this, at least.”  He held the same watch you’d borrowed earlier out to you.  “I modified it to be a bit more combat ready.  Take it.”

“That’s impossible, you’ve had it for what, three hours?”

He scoffed and pressed it into your palm, “Ye of little faith.

“I’ll try not to need it.”

“Yeah, but you should definitely play with it.  It’s pretty sweet.”

“Thank you. Seriously, if you ever need a babysitter, or a house sitter, or a witness, whatever.  Thank you.”  Before you turned from him, you regained your composure and said, “I’ll comm in as soon as I’m clear.”  He nodded in agreement and you took off jogging down the road.  

You weren’t sure, but you thought you heard him say, “Go get him.”

When Bucky regained consciousness, he found himself strapped into an all too familiar chair, shirtless, Tiffany Strucker watching him closely.  She had a glass of wine in her hand.  Oh, brother.  The room he was caged in had a high, glass ceiling, like a fish bowl.  The sun was high, looked to be midmorning.  He must’ve been out for a few hours.  Or a few days.  There really was no way of knowing.  Closer to Strucker, there was a rolling cart, presumably holding some sort of torture implements.  That didn’t bother him nearly as much as the bonds.  He could take pain.  He couldn’t take being restrained.  His pulse accelerated with every other beat.

“Glad to see you’re still with us, Sergeant.  You had me going for a minute.”

Bucky refused to respond, testing his bonds.  They were too strong for even him.  Tiffany set her glass on the cart and tapped her nose thoughtfully, then selected what looked to be a cattle prod.  Fabulous.

She smiled at him, teeth bright.  “I can’t have you dying before the main event.  That’s no fun for anyone.”  She circled him like a shark, drifting sensually with a sharp malevolence. “Sergeant, there’s no need for this cold shoulder business.”  Bucky’s jaw clenched involuntarily.  Was that supposed to be funny?  Abruptly she stopped, hovering over his left side.  “Say something, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What do you want?”

She tsked, running the prod dangerously close to his abdomen, coming around into his field of vision.  “Is that all you people can think you people can think to ask?”

“How is Hydra still operational?”

Instantly annoyed, she jabbed the prod into his side with each word, “When are you going to learn?” Bucky couldn’t hold in his cry as the last, vicious shock rolled through him.  Finally, Tiffany pulled the prod away and pushed her hair back.  “Our name is Hydra.  It’s a mythological Grecian beast.  Really, it’s quite simple.  Cut off one head, two more take its place.  You have to strike at the heart.  And you and your Avengers haven’t come close.”

She sauntered back to the cart for her wine and took a dainty sip, pleased by the burn marks the prod had left on Bucky’s heaving body.

“Sergeant Barnes, I knew that Steve was always the smart one.  You know, he was the brains, you were the brawn.  But, now he’s the brains and the brawn.  So, what does that make you?”

Bucky snickered, feigning confidence past the sweat swiftly encapsulating him, “You’ve never met Steve, have you?  The smart one, ha!”

Tiffany shot him a condescending smirk and continued, “Another one.  I’m sure somewhere in your thick head you’ve got a good question.”

“What do you want with me?”

“That’s it!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her feet.  “I knew you had it in you.”  She sighed, running a manicured hand down his cheek.  “Don’t worry.  The fun won’t really start until your little friend gets here.  Then, though, she’s going to help me undo what that Wakandan girl did to our favorite assassin.”  Bucky’s blood ran cold as that old sensation gripped him once again. He’d almost forgotten its name.  Fear.

“You can’t… it doesn’t… she…” Finally, he zeroed in on one thought, “You will never catch her.”

“I won’t have to. She’ll come.  For you.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“A woman knows.”

A tall, lanky man in a polo cracked the door open.  “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Yes, Jason?”

“Denna Reese has just boarded for a direct connection to Genoa.”

“Thank you, Jason.” Smiling brightly, she turned her attention back to Bucky.  “It won’t be long now.”

By the time your train reached the Genoa station it was early afternoon.  The sun shone brilliantly, high in a clear sky.  A dull conglomeration of city sounds met your ears, and, truth be told, it was far more familiar, and you took it in more comfortably than the mechanical clamor of the train.  In the station, you’d picked up a tourism pamphlet; you skimmed it, figuring the most efficient course of action was to stay as visible as possible.

You visited church after piazza after monument, and one very grand aquarium to no avail.  Out of ideas and full of frustration, you sat yourself on a curb and bit aggressively into some kind of cheesy bread.  It was almost evening and you were no closer to finding Bucky than hours ago.  Thinking about him made your gut cave in on itself.  Goddammit.  Just yesterday, they led an armed assault on an airport, and now they couldn’t be bothered to grab you in the street?  Something was wrong.  Maybe you were too visible.

Okay, okay.  If they thought it was a trap, that would complicate things.  What would put them off guard if it had been a trap?

You said softly into your collar, “They aren’t biting, calling it a day.  Will contact tomorrow.”  When you stood, you brushed your hands off on your jeans, sighing in defeat.  You’d passed a small hotel on the way over and you didn’t have a better plan.

“It appears they’ve given up.  She’s just checked into a motel about twenty minutes from here.”

Tiffany Strucker held her expression, one of pleased contempt.  Everything was going to plan.  Sergeant Barnes was teetering on the edge of a slippery slope into panic, and when Denna Reese was finally in her clutches she’d be poised to push him over. Even then, she could see him fight it, taking deep, ragged breaths, eyes squeezed shut.

“Perfect.  Wait a half hour, then send a team to collect our friend. If she fights,” she studied Bucky’s pained expression more closely, “Remind her of what we have.”

They’d put a burlap sack over your head just before shoving you into one of their trademark vans. You concealed your relief only barely, thinking instead about the tasks ahead.  Once you got to the base, you had to get Strucker and Bucky in the same room, then you’d incapacitate as many as possible.  Then you’d comm Tony.  And Steve. That would be an awkward conversation. But, if it meant getting Bucky back, it would be worth it.

The drive was longer than you’d expected, though you didn’t know whether that was by necessity or design because of the sack.  It smelled of stale air and peanuts.  It could certainly be worse.

Eventually, a sturdy hand pulled you from the van, led you some several yards, sat you in a cold metal chair, and removed the sack.  Eyes adjusting to the brightness, you blinked around.  You appeared to be in an office; a large black desk in front of you, and to your left a wide window overlooked the coast.

In no more than five minutes, a door opened behind you.

“Denna Reese.  Good to see you again.”  Tiffany Strucker strode into your line of sight and sat gracefully behind the desk.  She smiled warmly at you.

“I wish I could say the same.”

“Let me give you the tour.” She offered you a hand up, which you took cautiously.  Then she led you down a maze of hallways, shoes clacking on the tile.

After a moment, she asked, “Do you remember in Sokovia a few years ago?”

“You mean Ultron. Bits and pieces, sure.”

“Ultron, yes.  But before Ultron, Hydra was involved with something far more lucrative than destruction.  My father oversaw the experiments there.  They aimed to create an army of mutants.”

Shocked, you cut in, “An army of mutants?”  The corridor she led you down appeared to be a series of holding cells. Eyes watched you from some of the small windows as you passed; you kept your senses alert for any sign of Bucky.

“Yes.  Have you never wondered how Wanda Maximoff obtained her gifts? After the Maximoffs defected and my father was captured, Hydra fell into disarray.  While my father’s work proved incredibly effective, creating a mutant remains expensive.”

“Haven’t you ever seen a Bond film?” you asked, restless, “Gloating is number one on the villain mistake list.”

With exaggerated incredulity, Strucker replied, “Gloating?  Denna, I’m trying to recruit you!”  She didn’t hesitate to give you further explanation.  “Creating mutants is very expensive but employing them is fairly cost effective.  In exchange for their specific services, we supply housing, payment, dental even.  In this very facility, we have over two dozen employees with biological mutations. With this new vein of power, we can reunite Hydra once and for all.  Better, stronger.  And Denna, with you at the helm, we would be unstoppable.”  Eventually, she stopped in front of another enormous window that overlooked a picturesque countryside and leaned on its banister.

“You want me to lead your army?”

Strucker nodded thoughtfully, “I understand you have misgivings, but hopefully we can come to an agreement.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”  A distant wail echoed down the corridor, knocking the wind from you.  “Where is he?”

“The director will be here tomorrow.  He’ll want to see you both well rested.  Jason!”

“Yes ma’am?” said Jason, presumably, appearing from an adjacent hall.

She smiled cryptically, “Show Miss Reese to her room.  She’ll need to be bright eyed and bushy tailed for morning.”  Without a backwards glance, she strutted off down the hallway.

Jason gestured down the hall in the other direction.  “Miss Reese, if you would.”  You walked back towards the holding cells in silence for a spell.  He opened one of the doors, and before herding you inside he said to you quietly, “They’re really quite harmless.”  Before you had the chance to protest, three sets of dark eyes glared at you from the cell.  The door closed behind you.

In front of you was a tall, burly man, to your left a taller, burlier woman, and on your right was an incredibly thin boy.  All had the same unruly earth-brown hair and olive toned skin.  They did not look happy.  You tried to make yourself as small as possible, pressing your back into the wall in apprehension.  

The boy drifted close to you, eyes curious.  “We are not going to hurt you.”

“Sharkbait,” snapped the woman, “Don’t get too close.  You don’t know where that’s been.”

He stepped back but continued his appraisal.  “Interesting choice of words.  She came from Milan.  Before that,” he inhaled deeply, “Somewhere American.”

“How-how do you know that?”

He smiled, disarming you instantly, “I can smell it on you.”  Realization struck you.  Mutants. Hydra’s mutants.

“So this is how Strucker treats her ‘employees’?  Someone alert the better business bureau.”  The woman continued to glower, but the boy’s face grew confused.  “You are not with Hydra?”

“Aren’t you?”

The woman cut in again, “No. I told you not to get close.”

“Wait, wait.  If you aren’t with them, why are you here?”

The man broke his silence, laughing bitterly.  “We are here because we aren’t with them.  Why are you here?”

You smiled in spite of yourself.  “Because I am not with them.”

He held his hand out to you and you shook it happily.  “I am Diego, this is my sister, Perla, and that’s our baby brother, Siro.  Everybody calls him Sharkbait.”

“So I gathered.  I’m Denna.”  The woman’s ears seemed to perk up with interest.  “So, if Sharkbait can smell where I’ve been, are the two of you mutants as well?”

“Ever seen a frog’s hand?” Diego gestured to his sister.  “Suction cup fingers, double lidded eyes.  She chirps like a frog, too.”

“I do not!  I have told you a million times, male frogs chirp. I do not.”

He surrendered, hands in the air.  “Yeah, yeah, you said.  I’m immune to mostly everything.  Diseases, poisons.”

Another cry of pain met your ears from somewhere further into the facility.

“Yeesh,” exclaimed Perla, “What are they doing to this guy?  He’s been doing that since ten this morning!”  

Dear God.  “I have to get out of here.”

“You and everyone else, kid.”  You ignored her as he cried out again, and any hope you had that it wasn’t Bucky drained out of you like the blood from your face.  The instinct to use your ability came as a heady seduction; it took all you had not to find the nearest guard and force him to release you.  Without a map, though, it was big enough that you’d never find him.  And then you both were as good as dead.

“Do you know where they’re keeping him?” you asked desperately.

Something in your voice struck a chord with Perla, who replied, “No.  They told us about you, and your mutation.  You could walk right out of here.  Is this man why you haven’t?”

Breathless, you whispered, “Yes.”  Diego put an arm around Sharkbait.  Apparently, he didn’t like the sounds either.

“Try to get some rest. You will be glad for it in the morning.” You slid down the wall to the floor, burying your head in your knees to conceal the despairing tears that refused to yield, beginning the longest night of your life.

Bucky’s cries persisted for hours, each one chipping away at your sanity.  God, you wanted to touch him, really touch him, just once.  Just to tell him that tomorrow would be better. That tomorrow you would get him away from that monster, away from this place.  But you couldn’t.  And that made you almost as angry as his pain did.

Eventually, the horrid sounds fizzled out for the night, though it took you a few more hours to fall into something resembling sleep.

When dawn broke, Jason came to fetch you.  The sound of his voice made you sick with rage, the desire to subdue him stronger than it’d ever been.  You resisted the urge as you followed him down the halls, by imagining ripping Strucker’s throat out with your canines.

Tiffany Strucker was very pleased.  Not ten minutes after dawn Jason stepped onto the balcony with Denna Reese.  You looked simply furious.  The balcony overlooked the atrium, at the center of which was Sergeant Barnes, a little burned, bloodied and bruised, but breathing steadily. When you finally locked eyes on him sitting below you, she knew everything was going to plan.  The expression drizzling down your face was plain as day – the guilt of inaction, the indignation for a wronged person, the relief for a live friend.  Oh, and the sound you made, halfway between a yelp and a groan.  Agony.  Well, on with the plan.

“Denna, how kind of you to join us.  I trust you slept well.”  Your jaw tightened, and she was willing to bet you’d drawn blood from how tightly your fists were clenched.

The lust for justice hit you in an almost overwhelming blast.  You were so close to success, all you had to do was wait for the director, and it would be over.  Hydra would be finished, you hoped.  Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes unreadable, but you still wanted to drown yourself in them.

Strucker sauntered across the floor to stand next to the device Bucky was strapped into.  “I hope you don’t mind, the director will want a demonstration and I need to make sure the subject is compliant.”

She pressed something to Bucky’s temple and his whole body tensed, teeth gritted.  Your own knees weak, you leaned on the railing.  Bucky spasmed, then again.  You glanced at the time frantically.  How much longer could he take this?  How much longer could you take this?  Bucky’s control faltered, and he let loose a scream, answering both questions.  It was now or never.

Your voice broke as you shrieked, “Stop!”  Strucker pulled the thing away from Bucky, and a smidge of composure returned to you as his body relaxed, chest heaving.  Jason pulled your arms together behind your back to restrain you.

“Or what?”  You gave Bucky a pointed look before you tapped your watch once.  Twice more.

“What the…?” said Jason, loosening his grip in confusion.  The suit that encapsulated you was pure white now, how Tony had found the time you couldn’t imagine.  It was very intuitive though.

With a flick of your wrist you shot a neuron that merged with the suit’s own pulse of energy; it hit Jason, hard.  Before Strucker had time to retaliate, you leaped from the balcony, landing in front of Bucky.  The feet of the suit absorbed the shock impressively well, they seemed almost spring reinforced.

You planted a kick on Strucker’s midsection with the ball of your right foot and she flew back with a yelp. Definitely spring reinforced.  The bonds holding Bucky down proved less than a challenge for your strengths combined and soon he was freed at last.

The first thing he said to you was, “Why do you have a cape?”  Surprised, you looked down at yourself.  You did in fact have a cape the same brilliant white as the rest of the suit.  Stark.

“What was that?” a faraway voice asked.

The suit whirred as the helmet retracted.  Shrugging, you looked at Bucky and said, “Up for some action?”  He cracked the knuckles on his right hand in response.

Tiffany Strucker groaned and rose from the ground.  “Guards!” she yelled weakly.

A door in front and two to your right opened as Hydra operatives spilled in, guns trained on you and Bucky.  Time to find our what Model 20 C could really do.

Your neuron and the suits power combined knocked out whoever the blast connected with, taking three of them out easily as independent neurons flew to the rest.

“That is not fair, I was so ready to hit someone,” complained Bucky as the remaining guards dropped their weapons and knelt on the ground.  You sent a knockout pulse to each.

You heard a flurry of footsteps getting closer.  Grinning, you replied, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

Several angry-looking people entered the room next.  Mutants. Two came at you, one with big glowing eyes and sharp teeth, another with rough orange skin.

“Cream-cicle or needle-face?” Bucky asked you.  How was it that even after enduring several hours of torture he managed to make you laugh?

“I don’t know, needle-face looks mean.  Sure you can handle him?”

He laughed, an absolute symphony.  He fought off several mutants one way or another, you fought off several less but eventually you remembered something important.  You looked around for Strucker, hoping you hadn’t missed your chance. She wasn’t where she’d fallen, you spotted her running along the side by the window and hit her with a pulse.

Suddenly, the room shook as Bucky threw the mutant he fought into the wall; the impact was forceful enough to shatter the enormous window.  Lost in the heat of a fight, Bucky didn’t notice a huge crossbeam start to come free.  It was directly over him.

You didn’t think.  You fired the neurons, making him leap out of the way.

“Hey!” he barked in surprise.  The beam came crashing down and you lost focus, cutting off the stream.  The sudden impact and absence of information to his muscles sent Bucky teetering out the open window.

“Bucky!” you screamed, arms stretching out instinctively. The cape detached itself from your shoulders and flew out after him.  Shocked, you lurched to the edge to see the cape wrap itself around Bucky just before he hit the ground.  You stood paralyzed.  Then he wriggled his way free.  You jumped.

You realized you definitely overestimated the shock absorbing capabilities of the suit just before you landed, doing your best to tuck and roll.  Bucky lay a few feet from you, you threw yourself onto him.  He huffed.

“Sorry,” you said, releasing him.  “I’m sorry. The cross-beam was going to fall on you and I, I didn’t think there was time, and I, I’m sorry.”  He pulled you back into him, shushing you.

He rubbed your back firmly, murmuring, “Breathe, Denna, breathe.”

You clung to his torso for dear life.  Then you remembered the burns.  You pulled away again and apologized again.  He responded with a sweet smile.

“You just saved my ass at least three times.  I can take it.”  You shook your head, smiling in spite of yourself, and got off the ground.  Bucky took the hand you offered, and you helped him to his feet.

“So, what happened to Jimmy?”

You blushed, “Everybody else calls you Bucky.  I hope that’s okay.”

“You can still call me whatever you want, Doll.”  If there was ever a time for a “blushing intensifies” meme, that was it.  He was totally serious, gorgeous oceanic eyes boring into you with intensity that could melt metal.  He flinched.  “Was that weird?”

You patted his arm in a healthy, platonic manner.  “No.” Then, changing the subject, “I don’t know how long those maniacs will be out.”  Bucky nodded, surveying the area.  You’d landed on the beach, coastline stretching out for miles on both sides.  You switched the suit’s comm on.

“Tony?  Steve?  Ground control to Major Tom?”

“Denna!” Tony’s voice crackled through the speaker.  “What’s happening?  You’ve been offline for almost twenty-four hours.”

“We got him, we’re in the-“

“Reese!” Steve exclaimed, cutting you off, “What the hell were you thinking?  Where are you?”

Exasperated and tired, you replied, “I’m at a mostly neutralized Hydra facility that won’t be neutralized for long.  I’ll fill you in when you get here.”  

“We are not done-“ You transmitted your coordinates and switched the comm off.  He could yell at you later, preferable when you were prepared to yell back.

Bucky began walking back to the building, saying, “There were some other prisoners in there, we should,” his step faltered, and he blinked groggily.  Oh no.

“Nope.  You’re sitting down, right now,” you said, hooking his arm over your shoulders.  You squinted up at the sun, already burning bright, not liking the thought of sunburn on the fresh electrical burns that Trespassed on Bucky’s chest and side.  “Preferably out of the sun.”

[you-can-call-me-verge]

Floodgate (Prinxiety)

Summary: After harsh words are exchanged between Roman and Virgil, all of Virgil’s insecurities come back. A hurt/comfort angst fic with a happy ending.

Pairings: Prinxiety (This can be read as platonic or romantic, I have no preference.) 

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None.

Author’s note: Based off a prompt from corvidprompts. Enjoy!

Virgil was sat in his room, which wasn't exactly unusual. In his head, he replayed the events of earlier this afternoon. He was on his side, clinging onto a blanket. He felt the urge to sob, and yet no tears came out.

Which wasn't exactly unusual.

His first mistake was going downstairs in the first place. In the living room, Logan was reading on the couch, Patton was on his phone next to him, and Virgil was listening to music. Ever since he'd tried to “duck out,” he enjoyed spending time with his friends a little more. It was much easier to believe they liked having him around after they started going out of their way to make him feel wanted. Now, he was just sitting, enjoying the fact he had the option to be near them. He looked up from his phone just as Roman came bustling across the room.

“Where ya headed, Princey?” He asked, popping out an earphone.

“Wouldn't you like to know, Beetlejuice.” The harsh response had Virgil off guard already.

His second mistake was responding. “Yeah, I would actually. You just came through the room like a whirlwind, am I not allowed to be curious?”

Roman seemed to be restraining himself, speaking through clenched teeth. “Well, Anxiety, maybe if you didn't insist upon being such a menace all the time, I’d believe your curiosity was innocent.”

Virgil was shocked. Words were lost on him, so he just stared up at Roman, who loomed over him with rage. That was Virgil’s third mistake- he didn't respond. He didn't apologize, he didn't explain himself, he just sunk down into his chair and prayed the prince didn't continue. Thankfully, that was all the prince had to say to him. On the other hand, he turned away sharply and continued on his way, face still red with anger. Virgil followed him with his eyes until he'd exited, and made a beeline for his room.

Logan and Patton, who had witnessed the entire event, exchanged a look.

So much about the incident had cut deep, as if Roman had seen his deepest insecurities and went straight for them. He'd only been trying to make conversation, to show genuine concern for the side he'd historically fought with the most, and Roman just snapped. Even worse, Virgil was sure that he'd been making progress with him. He thought the jabs were becoming more joking, the nicknames less insulting and more affectionate. But this time, the recently warm and affectionate side had taken on a cold, cruel voice.

But the worst part of it all, worse than the realization he was wrong about Roman liking him, was the fact that he hadn't used his real name. The others, including Roman, were always so careful to call him Virgil. Everyone slipped up sometimes, but it was always accompanied with a quick apology and and correction. But this time, it wasn't. This time, it was followed with harsh insults, not so much as a pause to consider correcting himself. This was… calculated. Somehow, that made it so much worse. Somehow, that simple action had brought Virgil’s composure crashing down. Somehow, Virgil was now sure that every time any of his friends had gotten his name right, it was an act. It was a formality, canned, they didn't actually care about his name, they didn't actually care about him.

He was violently pulled out of his head back into reality when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. He jumped and rolled over in his bed, and immediately saw Patton’s concerned expression. As he sat down on his bed, Virgil took a second to untangle himself from the blanket that had wrapped around him as he turned. Once he was free, he sat up, withdrawing a little from Patton.

“Hey-”

Virgil began speaking, deciding to apologize before the paternal side could lecture him. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? I know I shouldn't bother you guys, it's just- I thought- I thought it was okay, I thought you guys wanted me to be more social with you, and I was wrong,” -it was getting progressively harder to talk- “But please, d-don't yell at me for this. I’ll get out of your hair, I'll leave, I'm sorry, it's just I can't h-handle being yelled at right- right now.”

It seemed like just minutes before, he hadn't been able to cry no matter how much he wanted to. But now that he was in front of someone, now that he was vulnerable, the floodgate was opened. His ribs creaked as he sucked in a breath, and he tried to hide his face with his hands as he broke down in large, body-wracking sobs.

Two strong hands gripped his wrists, and even though he struggled to keep his face covered, he quickly gave in as Patton brought Virgil’s hands down to his sides. Quickly, Patton brought his hands up to Virgil’s face, brushing away tears with his thumbs while gripping the other side’s chin, ensuring he couldn't hide his face. Virgil hated to think of how he must look, his eyeshadow likely running, face red and twisted as he cried.

“Hey. Hey, listen to me. I saw what happened downstairs.” Patton’s voice was soft and quiet, comforting. “I know you weren't trying to upset Roman. Me and Logan talked it out, and we theorized that Princey is just extra stressed out. It's been a while since Thomas has uploaded a video, and him and Logan have been overworking themselves trying to come up with content to release. That doesn't mean it was okay for him to speak to you that way, but it's important for you to know that he didn't mean a word of what he said to you. Okay? We care about you, Virgil. We love you.”

With that, Virgil closed the space between him and Patton. He rested his head on his chest, feeling the soft gray cardigan there. As his arms wrapped around Virgil's shoulders, Patton asked him, “Is there anything you need?”

“Can you please reassure me that I'm not a menace?”

“Virgil, you are the least scary person I've ever met.” He thought for a second. “Demonic attributes aside.” He added.

With that, Virgil laughed. He laughed and laughed until he was too tired to think.

It was later in the night. Patton asked if he was coming down for dinner, but the ordeal had taken so much out of Virgil that he decided to take a nap instead. So now it was 10, and Virgil was hungry. He groggily made his way downstairs. After a quick dilemma over what to have, he decided to microwave a couple pre-made, frozen tacos. It was the perfect mix of low effort and deliciousness. As he was pulling them out of the microwave, he turned around to see Roman standing in the doorway. They looked at each other for a long time, both feeling like deer in the headlights. 

Roman made the first move, tentatively stepping forward and pulling out a chair. The scrape of the chair against the floor was unsettling in the pin drop silence between the two. Virgil sat down across the table from him.

Roman broke the silence first. “Are you okay?” He asked nervously.

“Yeah. Me and Patton talked, I cried it out, I took a nap, its all good.”

Upon hearing the word “cry,” something like shame ran across Roman’s face. “I'm so sorry, I get it if you're mad.” He said. “This wasn't about you, it was about me. I'm so stressed out over this stupid video, I can't think of anything to do- but I shouldn't rant. I hurt you, and that's not okay.”

“It's fine. Really, I understand.”

“It's not fine, it's not even close to fine! You don't deserve that, you deserve to know how loved and important you really are to us. It's just- I asked Patton about how you were doing, and he didn't want to go into specifics, but he said that you were very upset. I just want to know- I want to know, what happened?”

Looking into the prince’s eyes, he saw how terrified he was. He looked desperate to make amends. “A lot happened. I kinda convinced myself that you hated me. And from there I convinced myself all of you hated me. I was sure that any amount of friendliness between us was faked out of obligation, not because you actually liked me. I was sad. Before then, I thought we were getting along better. I was really sure of it. Thinking that was untrue was… devastating.”

Roman took Virgil’s hand. His head snapped up at the contact, he hadn’t realized he'd ducked it while he spoke. His stomach twisted oddly.

“I'm so sorry I put you through that, however briefly. I don't hate you, anything suggesting otherwise is entirely false.”

“So, you like me?” Virgil asked, voice tinged with hope.

“No, I-”

Roman hesitated.

Virgil’s stomach twisted.

“Virgil, I love you.”

[lubdubsworld]

Tumblr prompt ( Jimin / OC)

Part 1

Part 2

Genre : Heavy Angst 

Warnings : Dubious Consent, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation.

Pairing : Park Jimin/ OC , Jeon Jung Kook / GFriend Yuju , Kim Taehyung / IOI Sohye . 

Request fic : An abusive marriage drabble with Jimin .

Rating : 19+

Warning!! Warning !! Warning !!

Author’s note : if you’re here hoping for the story to have a happy ending then I’m going to have to apologize. Jimin is a ..disturbed ... person in this story.

He isn’t changing. 

Don’t read if you find it off putting. Just Don’t. 

Also this picks up from the end of Part 1. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3 ~~ Why I stayed. 

I woke up with lips pressed against my neck, open mouthed and wet, tongue licking the curve of my neck in smooth languid movements. I blinked groggily, trying to understand what was going on. I was sweaty and there was a little bit of my hair on my cheek. I reached for my face, only to be jolted by the feel of metal on my wrists. 

Handcuffs. 

I came to my senses swiftly, panic bubbling up in a menacing wave. 

“Hey baby....” Jimin’s voice was sultry and low , drawling . I swallowed and tried to open my mouth but he shushed me. 

“No talking. I’m going to be the one doing all the talking and the only thing you’re allowed to scream is my name...” He whispered, pushing up onto his elbows and leaing over me to kiss my nipples slowly. I was still not entirely sober, the last vestiges of sleep still tugging in the corners of my mind. Everything wasd hazy , like cobwebs. 

“I got really mad last night.” He whispered suddenly and the words just instinctively made my entire body clench in apprehension. Whne jimin was mad nothing good ever happened to me. 

“Do you think I’m suffocating , baby? Are you getting tired of me?” He sounded hurt, insecure. “ Tell me. Use your words, baby , go on.”

I took a deep steadying breath. 

“N-No.” 

“Do you things I’m being unfair, wanting my wife to love me , the way I love her?” He whispered , lips trailing across my torso, thumb and forefinger toying with my nipple till the little nub pebbled up. It was cold . His grip wasn’t gentle and I breathed to my nose, trying to regulate the pain receptors in my head. 

Breathing helped. 

“Answer me!!!”

“No...No .. you’re... you’re not being unfair.” I stammered out, staring as he carefully levered himself up and straddled my hips, settling on my thighs, just enough to let me know he meant business. Jimin was dressed only in silk boxers, his erection pushing out through the soft fabric and it was almost pavlovian, the sight making saliva pool in the back of my throat. 

“I just don’t want other men looking at you. You’re so good to me baby. You make me so happy. You’re the only thing I love with all my heart. and I’ve proven that to you.... And ... i want you all to myself. You’re all I need. You’re enough. Am i not enough for you ?” Jimin said thoughtfully, palms cupping my breasts lightly , squeezing and stroking before one hand moved up to wrap around my neck. 

“You’re enough. “ i whispered and then choked a little when his fingers tightened .  More, tell him more ,  “  You’re more than enough. “ He squeezed tighter “ Ah... ow... Jimin.. Jimin .. You...You’re more than i deserve.” I choked out, tears stinging now and his grip finally loosened. 

“Good. I’m glad you’re so self aware.” He leaned down, casually kissing my cheeks. And then he sat up again , reaching down to lightly spread my thighs. My hips cbucked up when he slipped two fingers inside me, prodding deep with easy directions, curling his fingers in a come hither gesture and rubbing the dsoft patch of skin high up inside me.

The spot that literally made me see stars. 

I was shaking , my body trembling at the sudden stimulation , wrists burning from where the metal of the handcuffs chafed the skin and he pinched my nipple harder and the pain and pleasure all mingled together ito one helpless feeling of  too much too much too much....

“But, if we’re going to go to this brunch thing , that hyung’s invited us to... I want you to remember something. You belong to me. if I find you getting too close to Jin or any of the other members for that matter, you’ll be in hell of a lot of trouble..” He leaned down again and pressed his palms across my waist, fingers spanning my hips and pinning me down before he used his legs to spread my l;egs wider. 

“Jimin...I...”

“What did I say about not talking ?!” He slapped my ribs, hard and the fiery burn went straight to my thighs, making them clench. 

“Now, let’s get started , shall we? Safe word?” 

“Red.” i muttered. 

“Good. But don’t use it unless you’re really hurting. You know that right?” He said sternly.

I nodded weakly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look at you... I want to lock you up inside here forever baby...” Jimin whispered, sinking fingers into my hair, massaging shampoo into the thick strands as I lay in the bathtub. The water was warm , filled with camellia oil , muscle relaxants and some bubbly soap that smelled amazing. I was still in a daze, my brain sluggish and very slow on the uptake. Jimin sat behind me, leaning on the edge of the bathtub while I lay on his chest. 

The welts from the flogger on my legs, the back of my thighs and my bottom stung and i wanted to curl into the water and cry but I knew why he’d been extra rough. Now, Everytime i moved or sat or stood or walked ,the phantom pain would make sure that my mind would always be on him. 

I let my head fall back into his chest, whimpering because he was still hard, still inside me and i was sore. So incredibly sore. 

He nudged his hips lightly. 

“Ride me.” Jimin said softly. It’s painful, just the thought of lifting myself up but he helps, pulling out of me and turning me around till i was straddling him, knees on either side of his waist as i slolwy sank down on him. 

He sighed and mouthed at the curve of my neck, kissing gently as he gripped my waist, lifting me up and bringing me down till i sank down on him. 

By the time we were done, the water had run cold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ironically, I wasn’t the one getting distracted by someone else that afternoon. 

“I’m such a huge fan, Jimin ssi... I’ve been a fan from the time you debuted.” The girl was young and pretty, very lissome and graceful. She was apparently one of the trainees in Yoongi’s Entertainment company and Hoseok had brought her along to the luncheon in Seokjin’s huge sprawling manor home. She was wide eyed and I found her amazed admiration rather adotrable. 

Now, if only she would stop touching my husband. 

i shifted awkwardly on the lawnchair, fingers trembling a bit around the glass of chilled watermelon juice in my hand. 

Jimin was sitting with Jung Kook and Taehyung, his hands tapping impatiently on the edge of his armchair, a telling sign of his annoyance. But he was dressed like a prince, white shirt stretching right over his muscled frame. Lean waist fitted in  trim black jeans, belted tight with brown leather. His ash blonde hair was styled simply, his handsome face just ethereally beautiful.

And ethereal really did suit the three men sitting together, I thought vaguely. Jung Kook with his strapping , grogeous body and his dark, heavy gaze . Taehyung with the elfin , almost surreal features . 

They looked like heavenly beings and the girl just sat there, not knowing where to look and who to watch, basking in their attention . 

I felt a bit sorry for her. these boys were drugging. The withdrawal symptoms were going to hit her hard when this day ended. 

“oppa... You should sign my bracelet...” She looked really young next to them, preening and simpering and i realized that she wasn’t particularly young. 

i was just older. 

We were all old now, I thought surprised. 

Late twenties. no longer girls or young men but actual men and women

Married men and women. 

But that didn’t stop these other women from  wanting them . The maknae line. Women still worshipped the ground they walked on and in their eyes they could do no wrong. Beautiful perfect and just all around Gods. 

Sometimes, the fan chants seemed less like chants and more like some sort of a spell, cast on unsuspecting female minds.

 Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jung Kook. 

They held so much power, I thought , mildly sickened . So much power that had been handed over to them by willing victims. 

Women who were willing to sell their souls just for a glance, a touch . 

And more often than not , both Taehyung and Jung Kook indulged them. 

Jungkook , was staring shamelessly at the girl, eyes heavy with lust and next to me Yuju snorted.

“Look at him just eye fucking that bitch like he wants to strip her right here.” she said, bitter anger in her tone. i smiled sympathetically, reaching out to hold her hand. 

it wasn’t exactly a secret, Jung Kook and Taehyung’s  philandering ways were as old as the hills. 

They slept with budding idols, trainees , rookie actors. 

And while Sohye still clung to the belief that Taehyung would change someday, Yuju had long given up on him and I wondered , why. 

Yuju wasn’t like me. 

She was an ex-idol. 

Sometimes, it seemed amazing that someone like Yuju, so beautiful and so smart and so talented, would stay in a marriage where she was constantly pushed aside for some other woman. 

i moved to reach for the tissues on the wicker work table on the lawn , flinching when my entire backside throbbed. 

“Are you okay?”  Sohye said worriedly, her gaze soft as she helped me up from the chair. I managed a weak smile, my entire body sore and aching .

“Uh.. yeah. i must’ve slept funny last night. I think i pulled a muscle in my back.“ I muttered. 

“Really? Are you sure it wasn’t kinky sex..?” Yuju teased.

“I.. What- no...”

“Don’t be ashamed. At least your husband has sex with  you.  And not everything in a skirt .” She scoffed still glaring daggers at Jung Kook. Finally, jung Kook seemed to sense the death glare aimed at his skull, turning around and flinching. He quickly whispered something to Taehyung who grimaced and glanced at us. 

“Need any assistance , ladies?” He called out cheerfully. 

“Not at all... Please continue with who ever you’re doing.” Yuju said pointedly and Jung Kook’s eyes flashed red with anger. 

“Yuju...” He growled softly . 

“Oops.. whatever... i meant whatever you’re doing. Not  whoever. “ She giggled faintly and jung Kook turned away , ears red with fury. 

“If we weren’t in public he would likely have slapped me.” Yuju said thoughtfully. A brief flash of hurt in her gaze made my heart ache. But it was fleeting. gone before anyone could see.   

Sohye just smiled vacantly. She was staring at Taehyung , wistfully , her eyes heavy with regrets. 

“I want to divorce him.” She whispered quietly.

Yuju rolled her eyes.

“We all know that’s not an option.” She said bitterly, pouring a glass of vodka and handing it to me.” Have some alcohol, y/n. That’s the only thing strong enough to help us deal with these bastards.”

“Why not?” Sohy sounded close to tears. “ I hate it !!  i hate when he comes home smelling like another woman!” 

 What do you think will happen if we divorce them? you think you and i will land another movie role Sohye? You think any one will buy Y/N ‘s paintings? instead they’ll curse us out, boycott us... accuse us of being whores and sluts and bitches who hurt their precious ‘ oppa’ ...... Yes, we have our own careers and we make money too.... but do you think we’ll still have a career if we leave these bastards? ” she laughed without mirth.

“ Why leave them ?” i said softly.”  The fame. The money . The gowns and the envy. Why give all that up just to get away from a few bruises ?” i said softly , tracing the purpling skin on my wrists from the handcuffs.

“Hear, Hear!” Yuju chuckled. “ Why indeed? “ 

Sohye grimaced , looking away angrily. But she didn’t say anything. 

i smiled a little and watched the three of them again . Jimin was flipping through his phone, fully ignoring the girl who tried hard to get his attention. i wasn’t particularly flattered by it. Jimin being unfaithful was never even a worry.

Because Jimin knew. 

He knew that no one else would let him do all the depraved things he needed to do in the bedroom. And for a brief second, I wished he would.

i wished he would just sleep with some other girl and then maybe I could be the one to accuse and demand and control. 

“But , Y/N can’t relate with us, Sohye... She has the most faithful husband in all of South Korea....” Yuju grinned, stroking my forearm. 

“You’re lucky. Jimin never even looks at another girl. He knows his wedding vows and he takes them seriously.” Sohye whispered her voice trembling just a bit.

“Lucky.” I whispered, staring at him . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ Do you think they will leave us... someday?” Taehyung says thoughtfully as they watch their wives, walking around the lawn, hand in hand. 

“Mine wouldn’t.” jimin says easily. “ Because unlike you heartless bastards, I treat her like a fucking queen.” 

Jung Kook shrugs. 

“Yuju won’t leave me. If she does my fans will butcher her. Her parents already cut her off when she m,arried me. She can’t afford to leave me he says confidently but there’s a vulnerable undertone to his words. He sounds uncertain. Sounds worried. 

“Well, there’s one thing we know. They won’t leave us this week.” Taehyung grins. 

Jung Kook laughs.

“That’s comforting? “

“For this week yes. I’ll worry about Sohye leaving me next week, because i know she isn’t leaving me this week. Fair enough, right?” Taehyung grins. 

“You going to fuck the new one? Or should i call dibs?” Jung Kook whispers. 

“We both know she’s wet for Jimin... What say jimin? Going to break the chastity streak and just indulge a bit?”

Jimin shakes his head at his best friends. His soul mates he thinks, vaguely. 

“Like I said, I love my wife.” He says honestly. “ i’m not going to hurt her that way.” 

Jung Kook scoffed. 

“Later , then. Losers.” 

“At least do it after the brunch is over you son of a bitch.. Yuju is right here!!” Taehyung hisses and jung Kook merely laughs. 

And jimin wonders, if this feeling of foreboding is something he should be worried about.

What if she really did leave? 

What if....

 He feels the sudden, suffocating urge to touch her. 

He ignores Taehyung’s voice and strides out of the door. Across the lawn. He reaches her in less than ten seconds flat and a few minutes later, he has in his arms. 

“Jimin!” She cries out, surprised.

“Don’t leave me....” He says softly, voice breaking. 

“I... I won’t.” And her voice shakes. That little pause, that hesitation takes root inside him. It makes him want to claw away his insides. He hates feeling so vulnerable. 

He hates the uncertainty. Because no matter how many times she bent to his will, no matter how many times she let him do those things to her, it isn’t enough.

He can never fully convince himself that she won’t leave. 

“Please, y/n.... hold me...” He whispers, raggedly.

“Jimin...?”

“Don’t say anything... Y/N please... Don’t leave... Just Hold me....” 

But her hands lie limp on her sides and Jimin just stands there  trembling. He wonders why she won’t hold him. 

Was it so fucking hard to hold him? 

His fingers clench into fists. He wants to shake her. Break her down and demand that she hold him. Demand that she love him. The way he loves her. 

He’ll show her. When they get  back home, he’ll show her ..... 

It starts raining then. 

“Let’s go home, Y/N” He  says softly. His voice is low, trembling a bit with anger and she senses it. She always senses his anger like the perfect little prey that she was. 

And now it’s her turn to  tremble. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your cold face tells me everything rather than words I can see a break up rising over me like a high tide I know it will soon be our last but I can’t let you go Don’t talk, don’t leave just quietly hold me girl

AUTHOR’S NOTE : This is just... yeah. Sorry. Comments are love. This may be the last part. 

[anavoliselenu]

Heart of stone chapter 13

True to his word, Justin sent Hale to pick me up promptly at seven o’clock. I was somewhat disappointed that Justin wasn’t in the car, but the drive to the penthouse ended up being a short one. Justin lived closer to me than I had realized.

 When we arrived, Hale walked me through the lobby of the building, to the penthouse elevator, and inserted his key card. While we were waiting for the lift to arrive, I glanced over at the security desk and saw Jeffrey, the young man who had been so eager to please Justin. He nodded his head politely when I caught his eye and I afforded him a small wave in return.

 “Please step inside, Miss Cole. Mr. Stone is waiting for you. Enjoy your evening,” Hale said to me.

 I looked up at him in surprise. That was the first time Hale had ever spoken directly to me. Even more shocking was the ghost of a smile that played on his lips. He was normally so stern and serious, that I was caught off guard.

 I looked at him, I mean really looked at him, for the first time. He was much older than me, probably around fifty if I had to take a guess, and not nearly as menacing as I had originally thought. He had kind eyes, the sort of eyes that would light up with laughter given the opportunity. My guess was that Justin didn’t give him much time for laughing.

 The fact that Hale had suddenly found his voice had left me in a lurch and an uncomfortable silence settled between us. I had never given much thought about conversing with Hale, as I had always been so focused on Justin.

 Does Hale know about his boss’s alternative lifestyle? And if he knows, does he approve of it? What must he think about me?

 As the new realization took root, I found it difficult to look at Hale in the eyes. The confidence that I had felt upon entering the building was suddenly gone, replaced by embarrassed insecurities. Words tumbled out of my mouth awkwardly.

 “I, um…thanks, Hale,” I timidly returned, and quickly ducked into the waiting elevator.

 The doors closed and I waited while the lift climbed. Alone, in the confined space of the elevator, my apprehension grew. I knew that I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t control my wavering conviction. And it wasn’t just because of the awkwardness I had just experienced with Hale. After the research I did earlier today, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking blindly into a lion’s den.

 I swallowed a lump that was beginning to form in my throat, as the elevator continued its ascent. The downward force of rising so quickly did nothing to help it, and the lump quickly settled into a knot in the pit of my stomach.

 What am I doing? I must be crazy.

 The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. Justin was waiting for me. He was leaning against a wall, a diabolical expression on his handsome face.

 “Good evening, Selena,” he drawled out.

 Just one look at him and I instantly paled. I struggled to control the tremble of nerves that threatened to take over.

 I didn’t step into a lion’s den – it’s more like I casually strolled into the devil’s lair.

 Pictures from the internet, combined with childhood nightmares of monsters and vampires, flashed in my mind. I had no trouble picturing Justin wielding a whip, with me shackled to some dirty dungeon wall while a strange masked man sucked my blood.

 “Selena, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Justin rushed to my side in alarm, his long legs closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.

 “It’s nothing. I just…it’s nothing,” I said, shaking my head to rid my overactive imagination of the dark images.

 This is real life, not some Stephen King flick.

 “I hope you’re still not worried about being drunk last night, because I can assure you, it’s no big deal. It happens to the best of us,” he stated offhandedly.

 Yeah, right.

 I found it difficult to believe that the sophisticated Justin Stone allowed himself to ever get drunk. Not even once.

 “No, no – it’s not that,” I assured him, still feeling uneasy. “We just need to talk about some things, that’s all.”

 “Come into the living room. I already have drinks poured and a fire going,” he said, gently taking hold of my elbow and guiding me over to one of the leather sofas.

 The heat of the fire felt good, warming my suddenly cold and clammy hands. Once we were comfortably seated, Justin handed me a glass of some sort of yellowish-brown liquid. Brandy, port, whiskey – it didn’t matter what it was. I took a huge gulp, experiencing the pungent syrupy taste as it went down. I allowed myself a minute to gather my thoughts, letting the warmth of the alcohol wash over me.

 Justin’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.

 “Sorry,” I apologized sheepishly, and quickly set the drink on the coffee table.

 “Selena, just tell me what’s on your mind,” he demanded, but his concern was unmistakable. The way I half emptied my glass had understandably taken him by surprise. It even took me by surprise.

 Drunk last night, pounding em’ down again tonight – at this rate, I’ll be in AA before the end of the week.

 “I’m not sure where to start…” I trailed off.

 “Take your time.” He watched me, patiently waiting for me to continue.

 It’s okay. He needs to know and you need to have your questions answered.

 I took a deep breath.

 “Look, I haven’t been with anyone in two years…at least not sexually. And to be honest, I haven’t wanted to. Being alone has suited me just fine. I had no interest in relationships or dating, and even sex. Until I met you.”

 “Selena, if you want a relationship –.”

 “Please, Justin. Just listen. I have to get this out,” I conveyed, holding up a hand to stop him from talking. “I’m not looking for some life long commitment – I’m good with just the sex. But you have to understand that agreeing to be with you is a huge step for me. It’s very important that we keep it simple – no strings attached. I’m not ready for any emotional attachments. I’m trusting that you’ll keep it that way.”

 “I thought that’s what we already agreed on,” he voiced cautiously. “I’m not entirely sure where you’re going with this.”

 “Last night things got a bit complicated. At least for me they did. You were right – I am extremely uneducated, especially on the whole BDSM thing. Up until this afternoon, I thought you just wanted to spank me and, well… you know. Play doctor or something,” I confessed.

 My heart began to thud a rapid beat, quickened from nervous angst. My ignorance on the subject was beyond embarrassing, and I fought the flush that threatened to overtake me.

 “Role playing can be a part of BDSM. It would depend on your preferences.” He was still somewhat guarded, and he waited tenaciously to see where I was going with my admission.

 “Yeah, well…about those preferences. I did a little bit of research online today.”

 Heat rose up my neck. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop it. And when I saw his eyes widen with curious speculation, it only heightened my humiliation further, deepening the crimson that was slowly covering cheeks.

 “And what exactly did you find, Selena?”

 “Lots of crazy shit. Toys, weird contraptions…you name it, I saw it. After seeing everything, I’m sort of confused now. I know that there are levels of BDSM, S&M – whatever you want to call it,” I rambled. “I just need to know exactly what level you are before I get involved any deeper. Because, I have to say, some of the crap I saw was pretty freaky.”

 “Oh, no…” he said, his handsome face revealing true alarm. He ran his hands through his hair and stood to pace back and forth in front of the coffee table. “Look, I can only imagine what you saw and what you’re probably thinking. I’m not an extremist, so let’s be clear on that much at least.”

 I breathed a sigh of relief, and my rapidly drumming pulse seemed to slow a bit. I didn’t truly believe that he was some twisted and demonic nympho that wanted to cause physical damage to me, but hearing him say it aloud gave me a bit of consolation at least.

 “So, what level are you then?” I asked. I tried to keep the worry out of my voice, but it was hard feat to manage, since I wasn’t entirely sure what level I’d actually be comfortable with.

 “I’m not really sure that I would classify myself a particular level. This sort of thing isn’t that clinical. It’s about what we agree to do together, and about what the submissive wants more than anything. Despite what you may have found online, BDSM is not abuse. At the end of the day, you are the one in control, Selena. Not me.”

 “Now you’re confusing me. How can I possibly be in control? I thought I was the one that was submitting to you.”

 “You are. But it’s my job, as a Dom, to take care of you. I must be in tune with your needs in order to satisfy your every want and desire. If I’m not, and I make it all about me, then it is abuse.” The baffled look on my face was clear. He stopped pacing, stepped up to me and rested his hands reassuringly on my shoulders. “Forget about the nonsense that you saw online and think about it seriously for a minute. Yes, I enjoy the high I feel when I’m in control, and knowing that I have the power to push you to your breaking point. But at any given moment, you can call everything to a halt. I may be the one who wields the whip, but you control the limits just by using a safe word.”

 My stomach dropped at the thought of him using a whip, and I found myself wincing.

 At least I know what a safe word is…thank god for online research.

 “I can’t just say ‘no’?” I asked, trying to keep the fear that I felt out of my voice.

 “The word ‘no’ can be misunderstood, especially in a role playing scenario. Picking a safe word is better.”

 “But what if I’m tied up and helpless? You said that you might push me to do things that I don’t want to do. How can I trust that you’ll stop even if I do use a safeword?”

 “That’s the reason why I told you that submission is hard. It’s not about making you do things that you don’t want to. It’s about exploring together. I can show you the way, but you’ll need to trust me” he said softly, leaning forward to brush a curly tendril of hair from my forehead. “I’m giving you my word. I would never push you further than you were willing to go, Selena.”

 I looked up searchingly at his face and tried to find something, anything that would give me insight as to what he was thinking. There was nothing sinister and evil in his sapphire eyes, only patience and understanding.

 “I believe you,” I told him. And that was the truth, as much as it astounded me. I was shocked at my ability to trust him so easily, a man that I barely knew. But even so, we weren’t finished just yet. “There’s still more we need to talk about, Justin.”

 “What other questions do you have?”

 “I don’t have more questions, per say. Just a few things that we need to sort out. You gave me an idea last night when you talked about women requiring non-disclosure agreements.” I leaned down to retrieve a pen and the list that I made from my purse that was on the floor by my feet.

 “Is that what you want?”

 He sounded surprised.

 “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s more like a set of rules to follow if we are going to…um, do this.” I was suddenly second guessing my stupid idea. I thrust the computer printout at him before I could change my mind. “Here – I made a list. Just read it.”

 He took the list from my outstretched hand and reclaimed his seat next to me on the sofa. He silently read over the catalog of stipulations. When he finished, he looked at me, mild humor sparkling in his eyes.

 “So, that’s it?” he asked, placing the paper on the coffee table.

 He was trying to suppress a smile, but I ignored him and continued on.

 “I think I covered the basics. You just need to write down any requirements that you might have. See, I left you a blank space right here,” I finished all business-like, pointing to the blank lines on the paper with my pen.

 “You didn’t include anything about your limitations, Selena. That’s sort of important,” he said dryly. “My interests in the bedroom aren’t exactly mainstream. Can you think of anything that you might be opposed to?”

 Blood. Pain.

 I looked searchingly into his eyes, trying to find the right words to explain what I was feeling without exposing my underlying fears.

 Stop it – he said that he wouldn’t hurt you. Trust him.

 “Um…I don’t know. Like what?” I asked, attempting to be open-minded.

 “You did the research. How about restraints –.”

 “No – don’t say it!” I burst out. I was suddenly seized with overwhelming panic at the idea of actually discussing this out loud. “Write it down please. It will make it easier for me.”

 He instantly appeared amused, although he didn’t actually laugh. He didn’t have to – the look on his face alone spoke volumes and told me that I was being ridiculous. I felt like a teenager trying to avoid the sex talk with a parent. It was absurd. My only rational defense was that if I read his not-so-normal preferences, I would be able to keep my composure if anything surprised me.

 “Okay, I’ll play this your way if it means I get to strip you out of those clothes,” he said suggestively with a wink. However, his blue eyes were alight with laughter, the truth in them cutting through his rudimentary comment, as he picked up the list again.

 I should have been upset that he found the situation funny, but I wasn’t. Even his salacious remark didn’t register on my radar. I could only focus on one thing – the ball of nerves bouncing around in the pit of my stomach as I waited for him to write.

 But he didn’t write. Instead, he just sat there watching me. It was maddening.

 Why isn’t he writing?

 “What are you waiting for?” I practically snapped. My nerves were shot.

 “Can I have the pen please?”

 “Oh!” I exclaimed, feeling foolish. “Yes…here. Sorry.”

 I passed him the pen that I had been clutching tight in my hand. Instead of taking it from me like any ordinary person would, he used two hands to remove it slowly from my fingers, letting his touch hesitate ever so subtly over my knuckles. My heart fluttered from the intensity of that one little action.

 Who knew that handing someone a pen could be so frigging erotic? I may never look at a pen the same way again.

 “You’re blushing,” he said huskily, a crafty smile on his face. My hands immediately went to my face. He reached up to pull them away, and ran a finger along my jawline. A shiver raced down the length of my spine.

 After a moment, he dropped his hand. The hungry look that had flashed in his eyes was now gone, and his face turned serious. He looked down at the paper in front of him.

 “BDSM is all about limits, Selena,” he said, getting back to business. “There are hard limits, and there are soft limits. It’s important that we have an understanding. For example, I won’t do anything with fire or electrical stimulation.”

 “You’re joking, right?” I asked incredulously, his words immediately bringing me back down to earth.

 Fire or electrical stimulation – what the fuck?

 I thought my eyes might pop from their sockets. This was serious.

 “No, Selena. I’m not.” He studied me for a minute, before seeming to come to a decision. “How about I just write down the things that I would do and we can go from there. Do you want me to write down everything?”

 “You might as well put it all out there, right?” I smiled meekly at him.

 Soft limits, hard limits – what does it matter? It’s all Greek to me.

 Justin got to work on the list, while I sat there in anticipation, wondering about the words I would read. As I watched him write, I studied his face for any inclination to what he might be thinking. Occasionally his brow would furrow in concentration, like he was trying to remember something, but his mild expression revealed nothing.

 Minutes went by, every one of them seeming like an hour. I tried not to peek at what he was writing, but after a while, my nervous energy was replaced by impatience.

 How many kinky scenarios can there possibly be?

 I was about to say something, when he abruptly put the pen down and tossed the list onto my lap.

 “Happy reading,” he said, his expression wary.

 I gingerly picked up the paper, terrified of the words that he had written.

 You told him to write it down – just read you chicken!

 I looked down at the list and began reading his perfectly printed letters.

   Impact Play:

 Spanking, Whipping, Caning, Flogging

   Bondage:

 Rope, tethers, cuffs, scarves

 Partial body restraint (hands in front or behind, feet bound, spreader bars, etc.)

 Full body restraint (standing with wrists tied to ankles, hog tie, furniture binding, etc.)

 Suspension

   Gagging (Gag balls, etc. but nothing that will impact the ability to breathe – I will not participate in any sort of asphyxiation or edgeplay)

 Collaring

     “Holy crap! I don’t even know what some of this stuff is!”

 “Did you finish reading?”

 “Not yet – I’m still trying to absorb the fact that you want to beat me black and blue!”

 “Selena, I would never, ever cause you physical harm. I already told you that if at any point, you didn’t like what I was doing, you’d only need to use a safe word and I would stop. Now, please finish reading,” he said impatiently.

   Enhancements:

 Toys - Vibrators, nipple clamps, genital clamps, anal beads and plugs, Ben Wa Balls, etc.

 Ice, Stimulation lubes – hot, cold, numbing

 Wax (I’ve used it before, but would prefer not to – we can discuss)

     We can discuss! We will be discussing more than wax!

   Other:

 Masturbation

 Oral sex

 Anal sex

 Threesomes

 Nudity

 Role-playing

     I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes full of disbelief. I could never do this stuff.

 He’s out of his mind. Over the top, mad as a hatter, crazy.

 I took another long swig of my drink, the contents stinging my throat.

 “What is this stuff?” I asked, swirling the last remaining drops of the potent liquid around in my glass.

 “It’s a tawny port.”

 “It’s gross,” I said.

 “I can get you something else if you’d like.”

 “Oh, no – this is working just fine,” I told him, then tossed back the rest of the liquid encouragement.

 “Talk to me, Selena. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

 “That you are certifiably insane.”

Selena’s eyes were impossibly large in her lovely face, and I could sense her frayed nerves. I knew that she was nearing her breaking point before I even had the chance to really push her. I was so close, but her lack of knowledge kept getting in the way.

 She thinks I’m a lunatic.

 I was scaring her, and now a crossroad had presented itself. I had to ease her fears, or I’d risk her walking away from me forever.

 The entire situation was not only new for her, but new for me as well. I’ve never taken on a regular Sub before. All of my exploits had only been a one or two night fling, having never wanted anything more than that. But here Selena was, sitting there wide eyed and confused, her perfect skin begging for me to take all the time in the world to kiss and explore every inch of it.

 The mere idea of her leaving caused a feeling of dread to descend upon me, although I wasn’t sure why. I only knew that I wanted her to stay.

 “Do you want to leave?” I asked.

 “No, of course not. I’m just trying to grasp…all of this,” she said hesitantly.

 I tried to mask the feeling of relief that washed over me.

 Good. She wants to stay. Keep the dialogue open.

 “You know you can ask me anything that you want,” I offered. “I think we’re beyond keeping barriers now. I’ll give it to you straight.”

 She cast her gaze down and began to fiddle with the hem of her snug cotton shirt. I knew she had a question that was balancing on the tip of her tongue, and I waited patiently for her to ask what was on her mind. I could only pray that she kept her questioning to the subject at hand, and avoided any prying into my past.

 “Have you done this stuff with a lot of women?”

 Shit.

 The question was unexpected and potentially dangerous. Although it was a fair one, I was curious as to why it was a concern to her. I had to be careful with the answer, because one question could always lead to another.

 “There have been a few,” I evaded.

 “That’s not exactly giving it to me straight, Justin,” she said sarcastically. Normally I would be offended, but I found her ability to call me out refreshing and I told her as much.

 “Cutting through the BS to discover the truth. You really are a breath of fresh air. I’m not used to people being that way with me.”

 “So? Have you?” she pushed.

 “Yes, Selena. I have.”

 “How long have you…well, been into this sort of thing?”

 Careful now…

 “You make it sound like I have a disease, Selena,” I laughed, slightly uneasy with the possibility of where this conversation could lead. “In all honesty, I’ve had these interests for years. It’s just who I am.”

 End it there. She doesn’t need to know the why.

 “Is it easy to find women that like to do this stuff?”

 “It’s not too hard. The club scene makes it pretty easy, actually,” I admitted.

 “Clubs?”

 “Yes. There are clubs throughout the city, discretely hidden of course.”

 “What do you mean? Like a secret society of some sort?” she asked, pinching her nose up in confusion. She made me laugh, her innocence easing the tension that had settled in my shoulders.

 “Selena, this is real life. Not the DaVinci Code. I mean regular clubs. They’re just not open to the general public, which makes it easy for me to maintain anonymity. A membership is required, and they don’t advertise. Generally, the whereabouts of these sorts of clubs travel strictly by word of mouth.”

 “Oh, I see,” was all that she said. Her brow creased, as if she were trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.

 I may have skirted around any further probing into my background, however Selena wasn’t that naive. I was being as honest as I could be, but she knew that I wasn’t giving her everything. I could only hope that what I did give her was enough, and that she’d be accepting. Because from where I was standing, we were not moving ahead. She had yet to consent to taking the next step.

 She looked down at the list and began reading it over again, picking it apart line by line. Minutes stretched on, the silence maddening.

 She’s going to keep asking questions. I shouldn’t have put it all down in black and white.

 My patience was running thin. I was failing. I thought I could teach her, but I was proving to be inept. Either we would navigate through this together, or not at all. I had waited long enough.

 “I should have known better,” I snapped, irritated with myself for allowing this to go on for so long. “I wrote it all down because you asked me to, because you’re unsure. But, obviously, this is not working. From now on, we do this my way. Come with me.”

 I stood up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up from the couch.

 “Where are we going?” she asked, obviously startled by my abruptness.

 “To my bedroom. I want to show you something. And don’t worry. I promise not to touch you – yet.”

 I led her down the hall towards the closed door of my bedroom. With each step that we took, I could feel the pulse in her wrist drum faster and faster. Her palm broke out in a cold sweat. She seemed genuinely terrified.

 Her fear caused an ache to pull at my chest. I did not want Selena to be afraid of me, and the only thing I could do to erase her fears was to show her.

 Reigning in my impatience, I reminded myself to be gentle with her. The internet had planted too many false notions in her head, and it was my job to prove that there were other ways to my world.

 Just take it slow. Wait for her acceptance.

 When we reached the door, I paused before opening it. I turned to her, released her hand, and brought my palms up to rest against each side of her face. I had initially planned to offer words of assurances to her, but as soon as I had freed her hands, they began twisting together near her waist. Instantly, my cock hardened, and I had to fight the instinctive need to drag her to my bed and tie her to the rails.

 What is it about those damned fidgeting hands that makes me want to fuck her senseless?

 I ignored the throbbing in my groin and focused on the task ahead. I couldn’t afford to screw this up just because my dick had a mind of it’s own.

 Patience. Restraint. Finesse.

 “I need you to keep an open mind, Selena. Can you do that for me?”

 I saw a lump move down her throat, as if she were attempting to swallow her nerves. Her eyes were indecisive, and I had a fleeting thought that she might bolt on me. On impulse, I pulled her close. Folding my arms around her, I held her flush against my body and pressed my lips down to mold against hers.

 When I pulled away. I knew my eyes were pleading.

 Don’t run. Not after I worked so hard to get you here.

 And in that moment, whether it was because of my kiss or the beseeching gaze that I cast upon her, I saw her indecision change into something else. She suddenly looked determined.

 “I can’t make you any promises, Justin. But I’ll try.”

 “That’s all I’m asking for, angel.”

     ****

     I was overwhelmed with anxiety at the mere thought of seeing Justin’s bedroom. I didn’t know what to expect behind the closed door.

 A dungeon perhaps? Maybe a cell full of manacles and chains?

 But when he opened up his bedroom door, it looked nothing like a dominator’s pleasure lair. The room was actually very normal looking, with modern decorations placed tastefully about the room. Strategically positioned recessed lighting subtly illuminated the space, giving it a warm glow, despite the fact that the walls were painted a dark stone gray. I began to breathe a little easier.

 Like the rest of the penthouse, all of the furniture was sleek and contemporary in style. However, my gaze was drawn to the bed, as it stood out from the rest of the room. It was a showcase piece and nothing like anything I had ever seen before. It was covered in a black satin bedspread and was similar to a four-poster bed, except it wasn’t made of wood. The framework was black metal, molded into an intricate tubular design. Sheer black curtains hung down from metal rings, giving the bed a slightly sinister look, yet managed to maintain an alluring appeal. A mirror took the place of a headboard. The entire effect reminded me of a plush concert stage set without the flashing lights.

 Justin watched me carefully, assessing my every reaction. I could almost see him trying to cut through the layers to get inside my head.

 “What is it, Selena?”

 “Well…your room, the bed – it’s very modern.”

 “Do you know what this bed is?”

 “No. Should I? I mean, the mirror is a little kinky, but I suppose one would get used to it after a while.”

 “This is a bondage bed. Here, let me show you.”

 He walked towards the bed and reached to the right of the top rail. He unhooked a latch of some sort and lowered a bar down to the opposite corner. He moved over to left side and repeated the same thing. The bars formed a large “X” at the foot of the bed.

 “This is a saltires cross, also known as a St. Andrew’s Cross. It’s probably one of the most commonly used pieces of bondage equipment.”

 I swallowed nervously. When he had moved the bars to form the cross, small metal loops were revealed. I didn’t see them when the bar was fastened upright, as the intricate scrolls of the beds framework had camouflaged them. They ran the entire length of both cross sections. My imagination ran rampant.

 “What are the little loops for?”

 Instead of answering, he pulled me towards to the newly formed cross. Moving behind me, he gently pulled my arms up over my head, resting my wrists against the top portion of the X. His hands slid slowly down my arms and to my waist, causing a tremor to run through me. He leaned in closer and I could feel his breath hot on my neck.

 “One day I’ll have you tied to my cross, Selena,” he whispered in my ear. “And the metal loops are what I will use to secure your cuffs.”

 My breath caught in my throat and my heart started beating double time as I waited to see if he would do as he suggested. But instead, he stepped away from me and moved to the far right corner of the room. I lowered my arms and backed away from the cross, thankful and disappointed all at the same time. While the thought of being bound to a cross had surprisingly aroused me, I wasn’t sure if I was quite ready for that.

 Justin stood near a settee, his expression inscrutable.

 “Are there more metal loops hidden in that chair?” I half joked.

 “This is a spanking horse, or a variation of one, also custom made to blend in with the bedroom furnishings.” He slid the settee away from the wall and turned it so that I had a view of the backside. The back of the chaise revealed an angled plank with a narrow padded bench along the bottom. It reminded me somewhat of a church pew. “Once you become more comfortable with submission, I will have you will kneel on the bench and lean forward over the back. I can choose to either leave your arms free, or restrain them to the legs of the furniture.”

 He pointed down toward the legs of the chair.

 More clandestine loops.

 He didn’t wait for my response, but moved to a door in the opposite corner of the room. I thought it might have been a closet or a master bathroom, but then he pulled a key out from his pants pocket.

 “Wait here,” he told me, before opening the door and disappearing inside. I tried to peer inside, but it was too dark and I couldn’t quite see. When he returned, he was holding a variety of objects. One of them, I knew for obvious reasons, was a whip.

 “I’m not sure if I’ll be too keen on the whip, Justin,” I said with a nervous laugh.

 “It’s not a whip – it’s a flogger. And don’t be so quick to judge,” he said, seeing my facial expression. “Feel it. This could only inflict pain on you if I allow it.”

 I took hold of the flogger that he held out to me. He was right. The braided strands felt like silk against my fingers as I ran them across my hand. A quiver of excitement ran through me at the thought of Justin running this softly over body.

 Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad.

 “What’s that?” I asked him, feeling a little bolder as I handed back the flogger and pointed to the long metal bar that he held in his other hand.

 “This is a spreader bar.”

 I looked at the cuffs on each end of the bar.

 Large enough to wrap around my ankles.

 A tightness formed in my belly as I envisioned myself laying on Justin’s covert bondage bed, with cuffs around my ankles, spread wide for him.

 “Selena, please stop your hands from fidgeting or else I’ll end up reneging on my promise not to touch you.”

 I slapped my hands to my sides, although a part of me wanted to keep fidgeting so that he would touch me.

 But he didn’t lay so much as a finger on me. Instead he stood there, continuing his ever so attentive study, as if he knew of my internal struggle. A part of me wanted to run screaming from the room, yet another part of me was anxiously waiting to be tied up.

 “I wanted you to see this for yourself, if for nothing else than to ease my own conscience that you know what you’re getting into,” Justin said. He turned away and went back to the room that held his secret toy stash. When he came out, I was thankful to find him empty handed. I wasn’t sure if I could handle another lesson on bondage paraphernalia today. After locking the door again, he came back over to where I was standing.

 “Why do you keep that door locked?” I asked curiously.

 “I wouldn’t want Vivian to come across my closet and get upset,” he explained, flashing me a lopsided grin.

 A surge of jealousy instantly surged through me. We had agreed to no strings attached, but I couldn’t deny that I needed some sort of explanation for this Vivian person. I wasn’t the sharing type.

 What if he’s already in an arrangement with someone and just wants to add me to the ménage à trois?

 The thought reminded me that there was still so much for us to talk about. He had written down threesomes, but I had disregarded it as a typical male fantasy. But with Justin, I was quickly learning how wrong it was to assume much of anything.

 “Who’s Vivian?” I asked suspiciously, with just a bit too much of an edge in my voice.

 That I had caught him off-guard was all too apparent. He raised his eyebrows in a mock expression of surprise.

 “Don’t worry, Selena. She’s only my fifty-five year old housekeeper,” he clarified, as if he had read my mind. “I prefer to limit who I share this with.”

 “Oh, okay,” I said, feeling instantly relieved.

 Good. Old housekeepers I could handle.

 He gave me a strange look, but didn’t comment on the housekeeper any further.

 “Let’s go back to the living room. We can talk more and it might be less intimidating in there, rather than in here,” he suggested, motioning to the room around us.

 “No…I’m fine here. I’m just…” I started.

 How can I explain to him how I feel? This is all so twisted and bizarre, yet so unbelievably erotic.

 “You’re just what?”

 “This room, that secret room of toys and whatever else you have hiding in there…it’s strange. I don’t know what to think,” I said, my tongue feeling heavy in my mouth as I tried to overcome my awkwardness. “It’s crazy because I feel like this is wrong in so many ways, yet I’m intrigued at the same time!”

 “And what do you find the most intriguing?” he asked, his voice noticeably lowering to a deep throaty sound.

 “All of it!” I blurted out, blushing profusely. “And, um… I sort of really liked being spanked last night. Is that weird?”

 “I underestimated you, Miss Cole,” he said, a shrewd smile curling the edges of his mouth. His blue eyes narrowed into dark slits as he studied me, the lust in them intensifying with every passing moment.

 “I want to learn more about your world, Justin. I don’t know why...” I trailed off again, suddenly very conflicted over the thoughts that swirled in my head. “I didn’t know that this sort of thing would… well, interest me.”

 “This needs to be more than just a passing curiosity for you, Selena. There is no half way. I want you all in, or nothing. You should know that only the strongest of individuals are able to give someone their gift of submission. I think that you may possess that strength, but you have much to learn.”

 “I’m a quick study,” I informed him confidently, but my mouth had become extremely dry.

 He moved over to his dresser and flipped on the stereo. After a few moments, a distorted guitar sound filled the quiet bedroom of the penthouse, followed by the familiar voice of Brian Aubert of the Silversun Pickups. I listened to the lyrics of the song that I already knew so well.

 Catch and Release.

 Justin stood with his back to me.

 I concentrated on the song.

 He waited.

 In just a few short seconds, the air in the room seemed to sizzle, like the wick of a time bomb waiting to go off. Justin’s ability to persuade me with music, yet again, was a true talent. He was the master at his craft, an artist, always seeming to know the right sound that would ignite me in an instant.

 When he turned back to me, there was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

 “Are you ready for your first official lesson, Selena?”

 I watched his gaze skirt up and down my body, fanning the fire that was building in the pit of my stomach. I loved the way he looked at me sometimes, like he was picturing me naked beneath him, touching and exploring every inch of me.

 My little devil had festooned a red feather boa around a pouting angel’s neck and began kicking a lively Charleston around her. I was more than ready to dance. I nodded my consent.

 “I need more than a nod, Selena. I want you to say it out loud. Because once you agree to submit to me, there’s no going back,” he warned.

 “I’m ready,” I told him, forcing back the lump in my throat.

 “If you’re truly ready, then you need to pick a safe word,” he told me, his deep blue eyes searing into mine.

 “Sapphire,” I blurted out without really thinking.

 He cocked his head to one side, a curious expression on his face.

 “Interesting choice of word. May I ask why you chose it?”

 “It’s a stone. And it… it matches the color of your eyes.”

 “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice thick as he moved around to stand behind me. “Now, raise your arms.”

 I hesitated lifting them, trying to predict what he was going to do, and he tsked at me.

 “What?” I asked, worried that I had already done something wrong.

 “Lesson number one. Unconditional obedience. When we are together, you are to do exactly as I say. No hesitations.”

 I complied immediately and tried to will away my natural instinct to question everything. When he merely pulled my shirt over my head, I stifled a sigh of relief as my arms settled back down to my sides. I wanted this, yet I was still so afraid.

 “Now what?” I asked, feeling extremely silly because I didn’t know how to act. I wasn’t an inexperienced virgin, but in Justin’s kinky world, I might as well have been.

 “Relax, angel. I can feel how tense you are,” he said, lightly massaging my shoulders. “Close your eyes. Listen to the music and feel my touch. Submit yourself to me and I promise to give you more pleasure than you can ever imagine.”

 His voice was husky in my ear. Goose bumps of anticipation prickled me from head to toe as I did what he asked. He placed his hands on my shoulders and slipped his fingers under the straps of my lacy black bra. Sliding them torturously slow down my arms, he unhooked the clasp in the back and unceremoniously tossed the lingerie to the floor.

 My immediate reaction was to cover myself, but he pulled my self-conscious hands away.

 “Don’t ever cover yourself. I want to see you,” he said quietly, but there was a sharp authority behind his words, the way I imagined a Dominant would speak to a submissive.

 When he circled his hands around me to roll my nipples between his fingers, I moaned under his touch and my hesitations immediately dissolved.

 “How does this feel?” he asked, pinching each peak harder. A jolt of pleasure surged through my body.

 “It’s good…I love it,” I breathed, as he continued to squeeze my tight points firmly between his fingers and thumb. He plucked for a moment longer, before moving around to the front of me to capture one nipple in his mouth. I relished the feel of his tongue, as his mouth sucked and his teeth nipped.

 “Stay here,” he told me.

 I watched him make his way to his special closet, and the flames in my belly began to travel south, turning into a heated pulsing ache between my legs. I could only stand there in a state of restless agony, waiting for him to return.

 When he came back a few moments later, he was carrying a coil of black rope.

 He wants to tie me up already?

 My nervous jitters returned with a vengeance. I was scared that I wasn’t ready and almost told him so, but I sought out the courage to trust him, and didn’t give voice to my fears. Instead, I watched him as he began to loop the soft nylon around my wrist. He bound them slowly and deliberately, as if he sensed my unease. His movements were measured and gentle, his actions a representation of how he would introduce me to his world.

 He tied each wrist together in front of me tightly, but not too tight. I found that the rope was surprisingly comfortable, not the rough feel that I would have expected.

 “Are you okay?” he asked.

 “Yes. I’m okay,” I said truthfully. Somehow I knew that Justin wouldn’t take me too far. Safe word or not, I didn’t believe he would push me to using it.

 His hands slid down my belly, making quick work of the button and zipper of my jeans. He coaxed the denim down my legs and I sidestepped to help him remove them completely. I was left in nothing but a lace thong and felt vulnerable in the sheer scrap of material, my voluptuous behind exposed.

 He slipped a hand down the front of my panties, through the patch of curls to meet my wet slit. The throbbing between my legs intensified.

 “I love that you’re already wet for me,” he growled, circling the pad of his index finger around the pulsing little bundle of nerves.

 He dipped his finger inside me then brought it up to his mouth to taste my juices. His eyes burned into mine as he rolled his finger around his tongue.

 Holy shit – that’s hot!

 Little sparks of fire shot down to my girly parts and I thought I might orgasm just from watching him.

 A sly smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he moved his hands back down to my panties. He looped his fingers around the strappy sides and tugged hard. In one swift motion, he managed to effectively tear the thin material in two, leaving me completely naked before him.

 I gave a little gasp in surprise.

 Oh my god – how did he do that?

 Shifting so that he was standing behind me again, he leaned in close, his breath a soft feather whisper on my neck. I quivered with goose bumps that raced down my body.

 “You can wear these thin little lacy things all the time, Selena. I like that I can rip them off you so easily,” he murmured into my ear. “But then again, I think I would much rather you didn’t wear any at all.”

 He reached around my hips, hands caressing down my belly to part my slick and waiting lips. He slipped two fingers inside of me and I moaned, completely enthralled in a sensation of pure bliss. Between the thought of going commando around Justin and the feel of his expert fingers delving in and out of me, I was almost ready to come.

 His fingers pushed deeper, harder, while his other hand reached up to pinch and pull at the rigid peak of one of my breasts. In a matter of minutes, I was on the edge and found myself pumping my hips against his hand, unable to control the burning ache that was building in my pelvis.

 But he didn’t let me come. Torturously slow, he removed his fingers and began a steady circular motion over my pleasure button. I throbbed under his touch, already swollen and sensitive, seeking that desperate release. Back and forth, in and out, his perpetual rhythm making me crazed with carnal need.

 Oh, please…get me there!

 He held me tight against him, and I could feel his manhood straining through his jeans against my backside. His motions intensified in speed and I couldn’t take it anymore. There was no holding back. My breath hitched and my insides began to tremble and convulse, hitting an ultimate shattering point, as a kaleidoscope of colors flashed before my eyes.