#but I couldn't focus and bring all my thoughts together coherently

[xveenusx]

Love

Paring(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

Summary: in which two people come to terms with how dangerous their love is, but it's impossible to leave.

Author's note: Rafe on his knees is sending me. This is part two to Hate and is complete angst because I like to hurt my own feelings. ALSO, the GIFS depict exactly what's going to happen in this peice to help you visualize it better :)

Rating: ANGSTY, but kind of a good ending but not really bc they are horrible for each other

Warnings: v toxic relationship

Part 1: Hate

━━ ★ Masterlist

_____________________

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

My head hung against the cool tile in the shower, water pounding against my body as I fought against the urge to succumb to my pain.

You won't ever be over me

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Yet, it didn't work. I couldn't block out his words as they pistoled into my mind again and again. Slapping my hand against the tile, I groaned out loud and rubbed my eyes.

Memories of my mistake continue to stampede over every coherent thought I could form. It was embarrassing how easily I gave into him, but when he touched me, all sense went out the window.

He was the chink in my armor, because when he loved me, I mean really loved me, the sun shined brighter and the world went into focus. He could ask me anything and I would have told him in a heart beat. There was just this sense of security that finally gave me the ability to be myself. I felt like I was safe and solid ground for the first time in my life.

But as time went on, there were small slip ups that caught my attention. The hushed meetings with his father, his eagerness to be around my friends, the constant Q and A about gold.

I pushed passed the alarm bells ringing in my head because I didn’t want it to end. I caught him in lie after lie which always ended in a screaming match. I’d storm away but it always ended in us finding our way back to each other. Always.

Maybe it’s wrong to say this, but I was relieved that he needed me just as bad as I needed him. He couldn’t seem to leave me alone either.

The longer we were together, I couldn’t help but begin to question why he was really with me. The idea of there being an ulterior motive for loving me paralyzed me with fear.

Because, if that was true, I didn't think I'd survive it.

So like a junkie, in every sense of the word, I gave into the drug that was Rafe Cameron and gave him anything he wanted. I became an entirely different person that I didn't recognize.

I was so desperate to be loved by him that it almost killed me.

A familiar burning behind my eyes made me smile in irony. Tears usually accompanied anything that involved Rafe.

I slowly slid down the shower wall, bringing my knees to my chest, and set my chin on top. Closing my eyes, I attempted to focus on the pounding of the water but despite the noise, it couldn’t overpower the noise in my head.

Detoxing was nearly impossible. I'd take another dose, and then another, but when the high eventually wore of—because it always did—this is what was left:

A shell of me withered down in self loathing.

I hate you.

No, you don't.

The water eventually turned cold but I refused to move from my spot on the floor. I just couldn't face him, not yet.

It hurt to fucking look at him.

A fist pounded on the bathroom door but I chose to ignore it. I shivered slightly at the ice cold water but preferred this biting pain over what awaited me on the other side of that door.

"Open the door."

I turned my head away from the door and instead rested my cheek on the top of my knee and stared at the wall.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Open the door, why is this shit locked anyway?"

I rolled my eyes. The dramatics were unmatched.

"Go away." I croaked out, hoping for once in his god damn life that he listened. "I swear to god."

"I'm shaking in my boots, babe."

Jesus Christ.

"Rafe-"

"I can hear you crying from out here."

That shut me up. I thought I was being discreet. "I'm fine. Please go away."

He pounded on the door again. "Do you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?."

My eyes closed briefly at his words. The organ in my chest that refused to listen to reason began to beat a little harder.

"Rafe, please. I need a minute." My voice cracked at the end of my plea.

It was quiet for a few moments before I heard his feet shuffle away. I relaxed in relief at his departure and lifted my head directly under the water, hoping it will clear my mind.

"Fuck this." Was all I heard before a sharp crack echoed and the door busted open.

My gaze found his and it took all my strength to not shrink under his gaze. I'm sure I was a sight for sore eyes, curled up on the floor of the shower shivering.

Rafe let out a distressed noise before moving towards me but I scooted back, throwing my palm up. “Stop.”

He stopped in his tracks with narrowed eyes. “You have about five seconds.”

“Boundaries. We need boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” He repeated slowly, making it seem like the term was foreign to him. “What the fuck for?”

“Because I need a moment. Let me cry in peace.”

Rafe nodded his head and relief let me drop my shoulders.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone when you cry, there, that’s my boundary.”

I open my mouth and close it. He couldn’t be serious?

He shut off the water while letting out a string of curses as he took in my shivering figure. Yanking a towel off the rack, I'm suddenly enveloped in warmth as he wrapped the towel around my body and picked me up.

His scent lured me in like an old friend. Exhaustion weighed on me heavily so I gave in yet again.

I shoved my face into his neck enjoying the warmth his body provided and the shivering slowly subsided. Rafe said nothing as he set me on the edge of the bed and softly began to dry me.

He was gentle despite the severe expression he wore.

“We should probably talk.” He uttered, running the towel along my legs.

I shook my head, the desire to sleep was overwhelming.

Rafe paused. “I can already feel you pulling back from me.”

He knew me all too well.

Arguing him was pointless. We’d both end up with our voices gone and nothing solved.

“I can’t do this with you right now. I just want this day to be over.” I spoke quietly, fiddling with my fingers.

Rafe doesn’t answer me, instead he grabs some satin set and slowly started to dress me. Lifting my arms, he pulled the thin tank over my head before kneeling down and doing the same with the bottoms.

It was moments like this that almost made me cave. Rafe Cameron, of figure eight, heir to a real estate empire, was down on his knees for a Pogue.

Pressing a gentle kiss to my inner knee, he stood up, towering over me with his hand cupping my face. His face was the picture of relaxed despite our current kidnapping, but I knew it was solely because we were together.

“This can’t happen again.” The words were out of my mouth in seconds.

He just smiled, humming softly to himself as he continued to stare.

So I tried again. “You can sleep on the floor.”

That made the smile drop fast.

“You want me to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes.”

“Like the actual floor?” Rafe asked slowly, his gaze moving down to the hard wooden floor in distaste.

“The fucking floor, Rafe.”

His eyes narrowed at my tone, “Why?”

“Because I said so.” Because, my panties will be off in seconds.

“Try again. I’ll argue with you all night until you tell me why.”

“Does this not hurt you as much as it hurts me? Looking at you fucking kills me.”

“I’m going to marry you. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow. But I will marry you," He said the words so nonchalantly, you would think he was discussing the weather, "So no, it doesn’t hurt me to look at you, to be around you, because I know this is never going to end. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you."

I waited, for what seemed like forever, to hear him say these words. Yet, now that he did, I simply didn't believe it. Too much has happened. His words no longer held the weight that they used to and for a brief moment I felt a twisted sense of relief because that meant I was one step closer to being free of the shackles that chained me to him.

My brows furrowed as I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came out.

I shook my head and crawled towards the front of the bed, tugging the sheets down and burrowing myself into a cocoon. "Go to sleep, Rafe."

He muttered something under his breath as he walked over to the makeshift bed on the floor. I heared some shuffling before a heavy sigh echoed in our room and I knew he finally settled.

It was for the best. My sanity needed to remain intact and this was the only way. That didn't stop me from missing the warm embrace of his body that always lulled me to sleep.

Rolling onto my side, I peaked over the side of the bed and saw his head already turned in my direction. A faint smirk tugged at the coner of his lips and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"You still want me on the floor?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes." No.

Rafe let out a chuckle before silence enveloped us and the only thing I could hear was the sound of our steady breathing. All trace of humor left his face and we stared at each other, his eyes never leaving mine. It almost appeared like he was commiting my face to memory.

"You're safe. You can go to sleep," Rafe murmured, "I won't let anything happen to you."

A familar rush of affection slammed into my chest and I forced myself to break eye contact first. I couldn't let him see the expression that adorned my face. He was embedded deeply into my soul.

"I-" I love you.

Rafe cut me off, "I know."

Curled on my side with the sheets pulled up to my neck, I closed my eyes and whispered painfully, "I wish I didn't."

I could feel his gaze burning holes into my back, but I knew better than to turn around. Sleep, I told myself, everything will be better tomorrow.

Minutes passed and I knew he wasn't going to answer.

"I know that too." Was all I heard before I embraced the darkness with open arms.

_______________

Disoriented.

That's how I woke up. My eyes felt heavy and my head drummed against my skull. This pain comparable to only being severely hungover. Yet, I barley had anything at all. It was simply the Rafe effect, also known as extreme emotional distress.

I rubbed the sleepiness from eyes while my mind betrayed me with replays of the last 24 hours. Peering over the edge of the bed, Rafe is sprawled out awkwardly on the ground sleeping. His bare chest slowly rising up and down, his necklace gleaming from the morning light that seeped into the room.

It hurt to look at him, but when I looked away, it hurt even more. The fear of forgetting what he looked like or how he sounded when he laughed consumed me. What if everything faded?

Love and hate were more similar than one would think.

As if sensing I was was awake, Rafe shifted onto his side and opened his eyes slowly. I watched as his eyes took in our surroundings before last 24 hours finally hit him.

Instantly, his eyes find mine and his body relaxes, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

He got up from his spot on the floor and made his way over to me. Sleepiness still present in his eyes, but his face was content. The bed dips and a warm hand pushed my hair out of my eyes before tracing my nose then the outline of my lips.

"Good morning." The low raspy timber of his voice had me clenching my thighs together.

I allowed myself these few seconds to bask under the glow of his attention. Swallowing down the lump in my throat at what I'm about to do, I steel the storm of emotions that brew inside me.

Moving my face out of his grasp, I shifted my body into a sitting positon, placing a slight distance between us. "I meant what I said last night. This will not happen again."

The words burned coming out my mouth.

"Can we just skip this part?"

I shot him a blank look. "What part?"

He heaves out a sigh, his large hand rubbing against his buzzed head. "Aren't you tired?"

Did he hit his head? Confused filled me as I glanced at the unmade bed. "Tired? I just slept-"

Rafe barked out a bitter laugh. "Of running. Aren't you tired of running?"

My fingers gripped my satin top in an attempt to control my anger. He would choose this exact moment to bait me. Maybe six months ago I would have taken the bait, but I was drained.

He always chose the hard way.

"Really? You want to have this conversation now?" Keep calm. Breathe.

Rafe searched my face with a serious expression, then his lips tipped. "I don't know if you remember, but we have all the time in the world."

I rolled my eyes. Despite my very weak attemps at pushing him away, Rafe never seemed discouraged. He only appeared mildly annoyed at my desperate attempts to kick him out of my life.

"You're about 6 months late on your right to have this conversation. Now, get off of my bed." I tried to shove him off. Nothing.

Blue eyes narrowed. Good, I hope he was mad. He'll finally understand what it was like to be me the past couple months.

"If you're trying to piss me off, it's working. So stop." Was all he said, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Stop doing what, Rafe? There is nothing left to talk about."

"Stop acting like you don't care."

Rafe's determined attitude was exhausting.

And somehow, despite everything, I still felt myself drawn to him, even after how poorly he's treated me.

"Acting like I don't care is all I have left." My stomach tightened at my honesty.

His cold blue eyes grew distant, clearly not liking my truth.

"You have me."

The conviction in his voice would make anyone believe him, but I wasn't going to fall for his pretty words again, no matter how badly I wished they were true.

"No, I don't. I never did so this entire conversation is pointless." I stated a matter-of-factly. "Do yourself a favor and walk away."

Clicking his tongue, Rafe shook his head at me. "There you go again, telling me what I can and cannot do."

I had to hurt him to just get the distance I needed. He'd leave me alone if I hurt him.

"What are you gonna do? Tell your dad on me?" The minute the words flew out of my mouth, I regretted them.

Artic eyes narrowed into slits and his entire demeanor shifted, his shoulders tense and face hard. "Don't talk about him."

"Got daddy issues, do you?" My mouth would not stop.

I could see that I was successfully hitting my target, but it only made my heart ache. It needed to be done though.

Rafe's expression shut off, a familiar cold look settling in his eyes. "Tread fucking lightly."

My heart thudded dangerously as I debated my next words. "I might not hate you today or tomorrow, but I will hate you. Because, hating you is better than loving you."

The words tasted like vinegar coming out of my mouth, but they had their desired effect.

Agony briefly flickers on his face, but he schooled his expression. His eyes seemed to bore through me, our stare off so intense, that I had to look away.

If I believed he could change, even if there was a slight chance, then I would have fought for us. But, I knew him like the back of my hand and Rafe was who he was—unapologetically. I didn't have any fight left.

"I know what you're doing." His voice trembled, dark and on the verge of breaking.

I closed my eyes in defeat. Of course he did. I couldn't even hurt him without him seeing straight through me.

"You want to make me the bad guy? Fine. I'm the bad guy, bad Rafe Cameron. But don't pretend for one second that I'm not under your skin just as bad."

"You are, you are and it's exhausting," I grimaced. "Does knowing that make you feel better?"

"Yes, it does because I'm not the only one feeling like this."

My throat clogged. "How much longer can we keep doing this?"

"As long as it takes for you to give in." Rafe stroked a strand of hair behind my ear, the clouds of his eyes gleaming with twisted adortion.

Frustration bubbled up the surface. He was relentless in his pursuit, not caring if he hurt me in the process. As long as I was his, nothing else matterd, even my pain.

"This isn't a game. I am not a game." I stated harshly, shoving his hand away. "I'm a person--a person who has feelings."

His expression reamined unreadable. "A person with feelings for me."

I was losing. Badly. Talking to Rafe was like talking to a brick wall.

"I've had to put myself together three times, Rafe. Three times!" I screamed, my voice cracking in despair. "Each time harder than the last."

"I finally glued myself together again and you're already pulling away the pieces. For how long am I yours this time? A week?" I pushed. "A month?"

"You've moved on before so do it again. Let me do the same." I cleared my throat to push back tears.

"You think I haven't tried?" He asked incrediously, throwing his hands up in the air in utter disbelief.

Rafe stalked over to me, his eyes brewing with anger as he pointed to the veins in his arms. "You're in so deep, I can't get you out of my system."

I knew the feeling all too well. I am not going to cry.

"'You're right here. Right fucking here and you won't go away." He reached for my hand and placed it directly on his heart which pounded wildy under my touch.

My resolve was breaking and my previous anger easing away like a silent wave. He didn't have any peace either.

The heavy weight on my chest had me leaning forward, resting my forehead against his pec, my hand still in his grasp, pressed tightly against his heart.

"Loving you almost ruined my life." Rafe was a cliff. One that I threw myself over again and again, expecting to fly only to be met with cold hard concrete.

"Again with the meladrama?" Spell broken once more. Another peice being peeled away from me.

A joke, this was all a joke to him.

"You're not listening to me. You never listen to me." I shouted directly into his face, pointing to myself, needing him to finally fucking see me.

Tears finally fell from my eyes as I stared at him with pathetic hoplessness.

"How is what I did any worse than what you did?" The world stopped spinning as his words hit my chest. Something inside me broke.

I shook my head in utter diesbelief at his words. I pushed to my feet, my hands collided with his chest as I shoved him with all my strength.

I headed straight towards the bedroom door, slamming my fists against the door in an attempt to get the guards attention. I was slowly suffocating in this room. He always managed to do this to me.

I should've known better. I mean really known better. Rafe was a mindfuck.

"Run away one more time and I swear to god-" Rafe advaced toward me, his hands reaching out for me.

No, he needed to keep his hands to himself.

"Don't talk to me." I spat, holding my hand up. Facing the door once again, I pound several more times with no response before accepting defeat.

Slumping against the door with my forehead resting against the cool wood, I pleaded, "I can't be in here any more. I just can't."

Once again, no answer.

"We're talking about this. You don't get to avoid this conversation anymore."

"Want to try that again-stop!" Rafe bent down and tossed my body over his shoulder. Anger burned through my veins as I struggled against his grip, but it did nothing to deeter him as he stalked us over to the bed.

Dropping my body roughly on the bed, he towered over me and met my gaze, warning clear in his eyes.

Swallowing my pride, I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my palms. "You can't compare our actions. They aren't even on the same playing field, Rafe,"

"I can and I am comparing them, because believe it or not baby, it's the same damn thing."

Rafe was standing directly in front of me, his large thighs caging my dainty figure in. My chest heaved up and down in anger.

"Is that what you tell yourself so you don't have to deal with the fact that you're a shitty person? I'm not listening to this." My gaze was frantic as I tried to figure out an escape plan.

"I've clearly been too nice. You don't have a fucking choice. "

"Rafe, stop it."

"No, you stop it. Why are you acting like you expected me to be a nice guy? I'm not and never will be. So, you're going to sit here and listen to what I have to say." He tone harsh and unnegotiable, grasping my chin in between his fingers.

I glared, meeting his harshness with mine. Fingers threaded into my hair as he forced my head back to stare at him.

"You knew exactly who I was when you met me. You saw the good, bad, and the ugly and still chose to fucking love me," He snarled, his hand slammed against his chest, "to love me."

Oh god. Was he right? He was.

"Then you leave me for being who you fell in love with?" Rafe's body was shaking as he jerked my head back towards his face when I tried to look away. "Knowing who I am and loving me anyway, just for you to walk away. Am I that easy to walk away from? "

His gaze was expectant but he already knew the answer. No, he wasn't easy to walk away from. It almost killed me each and every time.

"No." I answered, my voice so low it came out as a whisper.

"How is that any more cruel than what I did to you?" I couldn't answer becuase he was right. My heart bled at this point as I tried to scramble some coherent thought. I wanted to say something, anything to counter his statements but fell short.

A sob caught the back of my throat.

"So get the fuck off your high horse. I beat up Pope on figure 8 and guess who kept my bed warm after that?" He mused, his fingers brushing against my knees forcing them open more. "I shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin and you consoled me."

I gulped for air but it seemed like nothing was reaching my lungs. He was right. We were so inextricably linked that his darkness became my own. It was so easy for me to excuse all of his horrible actions simply because I love him.

The laugh he let out sent shivers down my spine. "Fuck, I almost drowned Sarah and you still opened your legs for me. Still loved me, didn't you?"

Horror filled every cell in body. I curled my arms into myself as pain slashed through my heart while my hands and arms shook.

"So which one of us is really fucked up?" Me. Him. Both.

Rafe pulled his lip into his mouth as he regarded me with dark eyes. Leaning over me, he brought his mouth to my ear, the ghost of his breath causing shivers to wrack down my spine. "The answer is between your legs."

I stopped breathing. Wetness seeped onto the silk bottoms leaving an obvious stain on my pants. I tried to close my legs, but Rafe let out a little tisk.

I thought I had a chance to save myself before I got stuck in the trecherous storm that was Rafe Cameron. I was doomed the moment I met him.

He smiled at me almost as though he knew I reached the same conclusion as he did.

Rafe lowered to his knees, resting directly in between mine, with his hands raised up. I stare down at him with broken eyes, my handsome monster kneeling on the ground for only me.

When he saw I made no point to move, his large calloused hand covered my shaking ones while the other softly grazed the damn spot in between my legs causing me to visibly tremble.

"Do you get it now? There is no after for us. There is and always will be an us." The words were spoken softly, but firm. Though his eyes weren't on me, and in stead were in between my lefs. His hold on my hands being the only thing anchoring me.

I did. I hated that I loved him. I hated how he'd never leave. I especially hated how I couldn't leave. I hated my body's gross reaction to him and his filthy words.

"I love you."

My head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise at his confession.

"I do. That's why I wear the necklace and the cufflinks." He answered my question. He finally answered my question.

Before I could respond, a soldier bursted into the room with narrowed eyes. He took in the scene before him before relaxing but my body was snapped with tension.

Rafe looked down at our hands before standing up slowly and letting go. "Trust me."

He was asking in the only way he knew how, by demanding. He'd broken so many promises before that the trust between us was in shards. I found myself nodding anyways.

I'd already been broken before, what was once more?

In seconds, Rafe lunged toward the solider with his hands fisting along the shoulders of the man's bulletproof vest. Slamming his body hard to the ground, Rafe climbed on top before lifting the man's body and slamming it against the floor again and again.

He dragged his fist back before slashing it with quick and brute force against the soldier's face. Blood splattered against the white tiled floors as the man groaned in pain.

Rafe didn't stop. His knuckles becoming a marred mess due to them being split open. He didn't even wince.

"Get the gun." A loud ringing noise echoed in my ears as I stared at the unconcious man on the floor who's face was unrecognizable.

"Baby, get the gun." The term of endearment pulled my out of my head. Rafe's electric eyes stared at me with urgency and darted to the side.

I moved my head in the direction of his stare and see a black gun several feet away. My brain shut off and body felt numb as I picked it up with trembling hands.

My steps were timid and hestitant as I walked back over to him. He held out his hand, the rings shining in the light. "Bring it here."

For a second, a brief second, the thought of shooting him crossed my mind. I could be free of him. I could do it.

No, I couldn't. I loved him. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I rested the heavy pistol in his hand and watched as he dug through the man's pocket and grabbed a phone. "We're getting out of here. I have my boat parked somewhere here on the island. We get to it and we can go wherever you want. Just me and you."

Rafe stood and stepped towards me, determination in his eyes, with his hand held out for me to grab.

I took a sharp intake of breath. My blood rushed loudly in my ears as I decided what I was about to do. My friends, my life, were they worth losing for him?

His necklace sparkling against the sun and those cuflinks shining against his shirt caught my attention.

Our souls were wired together, infused. I was a monster. Just like him.

Loving Rafe was a death sentence. Little did I know—I was already dead.

I reached for his hand.

_________________

Psycho toxic rafe is the man of my dreams but also my nightmares :) They are both crazy though clearly and need help.

Let me know what you think! Next up is Conrad fucking Fisher and I assure you, your heart will be broken.

Tag list: @narcissuspetal @valeriedelevingne @harrys-humble-housewife @mrs-dasilvasantoss @yoonki-bored @maybankslover @blazebreaker @thepopcultureaddict @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @imawhoreforu @jj-pls-give-me-a-chance @summer-may

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Drunken Confessions - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st POV)

Summary: The boys and reader are out for a night of fun and drinking that leaves the reader with little to no memories of what happened after she had a drinking contest with Babe. As things slowly start to drift back to her, she remembers one thing clearly; she spilled her true feelings about Bill to someone. But who did she tell?

Warnings: none really, cursing per usual. No use of y/n or physical description. She/her pronouns.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt2: This turned out longer than I thought it would starting out, but I let the fanfic gods guide my fingers and here we are, haha. If anyone likes this enough, I have an idea of a next day smut part 2 I can write. Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day. Thanks for reading!

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I wasn't sure what made me wake up. Maybe the skull splitting headache, or maybe the sun shining through the blinds hitting my face, or maybe the way I'd sell everything I owned for water or maybe my bladder being so full that a single sneeze would cause a mess. Whatever the reason, the barest of movements to open my eyelids made me want to die instantly. The only motivation I could grasp onto to get up was to empty my bladder. Dying from a hangover is one thing, dying in my own piss is not something I could ever live with. The logic of my thought made no sense, but what the hell did I care as I practically crawled to the bathroom.

Once I was relieved and able to draw the last bit of strength I had to splash water on my face and half-ass brush my teeth, I made it back to my bed with a little more dignity. Okay, it was still on my knees but at least I wasn't crawling. A win is a win. A full glass of water on my bedside table catches my eye and I down it quicker than I've ever done before, well except for maybe the drinks last night. How did this get here? No way I was coherent enough to pour a glass of water for myself to wake up to.

As I got more situated in the bed, very much facing away from the windows because I couldn't bring myself to gather any more will power to close them more properly I couldn't stop thinking about the glass of water. And then it hit me that I was not in my dress from the night before or even just my underwear but pajamas. Being aware of how little my brain and motor skills actually worked together when I'm more than tipsy, these things stood out. What the hell happened last night? I tried to focus on my last memories of the previous night hoping that would shed some light on my current situation.

~~ last night ~~

"Oh come on! Are y'all scared to lose to little ole me?" I smiled sweetly to the table, making my southern accent a little heavier to hopefully sway one of them to take on my challenge.

"None of us would lose against you, doll. We just don't want to deal with you tomorrow morning." Toye said, motioning around the table before pointing his finger directly at me. I rolled my eyes and leaned a little closer over the table.

"Nah, I'm sweet as pie darlin'. I think y'all don't want the news spreading that someone in Easy Company lost to a little farmer girl." I smirked at Toye and the rest of the men, daring them to deny it.

"Fuck it, I'll do it." Babe shot up from the end of the table and made his way over towards my section. I beamed at his cocky smiled and made shooing motions to Luz and Perco to make space so he could sit across from me. With a nod to Liebgott, I watched him go off to grab us our first rounds of beer.

As Liebgott made his way back holding two beers, I see Bull, Martin, and Bill following him from the bar.

"The fuck are you doing?" Bill's eyes bounced back and forth between me and Babe. Unsure of who was directing the question to, I shrugged and decided to answer.

"Babe thinks he can handle a drinkin' contest with me." I shoot Babe a wink as he narrows his eyes a little at me. I look back up to Bill when I hear him curse and turn more fully to Babe.

"Haven't I taught you anything? Don't start shit you can't win." He's poking Babe in the chest with every other word, making the other bat his hand away.

"Who says I ain't gonna win? Look at her, she's like a flower. This will be over by the third beer." Babe sits up straighter, setting determined eyes on me. He starts to look more annoyed than ever when Luz, Bull, and Tab start laughing.

"Anyone else, I'd say you had a chance. But she," Tab throws his arm over my shoulders, jostling me into his side, "has come the closest out of all of us to beating Bull. She lost, but damn it was amazing to watch." I give Tab a playful shove, righting myself back to a sitting position.

Babe's face has paled a little but somehow manages to look even more determined to see this through. "I'm still in."

"Perfect!" I smile at him, raising my glass to cheers him. "If I win, you have to be my shadow all day tomorrow to take care of me. If I win, you can get my cigarettes for the next two supply packages."

"Deal." Babe cheers me back, and we take our first sips of beer simultaneously. Bill looks beyond annoyed, muttering 'It's your funeral' and starts back to the bar. Bull sends me a wink, Martin a smile, and then follow behind Bill.

"Buckle up, Philly boy. You're in for a ride." I shoot a final wink at him, and then start inhaling my beer. Babe's shocked face and scramble to follow my lead is the last full coherent memory of that night.

~~

I groan in frustration as the rest of the night seems to dissolve from my mind and I can't comfortably say I know what is fiction and what really happened. I have a vague feeling dancing with Tab, Luz and Toye probably happened. Drinking usually turned to dancing in my case. I prayed that singing at the bar with Malarkey and Muck was fiction. It feels like a huge gap is missing after that (please be fictional) memory and then slivers of different memories start floating out. Suddenly I'm in a cold sweat as bits start floating in.

"He's alright but doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine."

"You can't tell him any of this. Swear it."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever."

Fuck me, fuck my parents for having me, fuck my grandparents and ancestors for having them, fuck fuck fuck. I take it back, I'd happily sing drunk songs with Malarkey and Muck for the rest of my life if I can take those words back. And just when I thought my life couldn't get worse, I shot up in bed and another fact hits me...I don't know who I said all of those things to. FUCK!

Hours later, I'm still in bed trying to make myself remember anything about my mystery companion or at the very least come up a way to turn back time. Just as my stomach growls for the fourth time, there's a knock on my door and then it's swinging open. I jump up again for the second time that day.

"Hey sleeping beauty, how's the hangover?" Luz asks, all bright eyes and smiles as Babe follows behind him looking exactly how I feel. I shift up the bed to make room for Luz to sprawl out at the foot of the bed while Babe just curls into a ball next to me, back to the window and sunlight.

"I feel like death." I manage to croak out. It's the first time I've used my voice since passing out last night and you'd swear I smoked like a chimney from the sound.

"You look it too." Luz narrowly dodges the pillow I throw at his face. The movements cause Babe to give a pathetic whine and he curls up even more. "I don't know who pissed in your coffee, but this is not how a winner should be acting." I roll my eyes, smiling briefly as I get confirmation that I did win last night. My stomach growling again wipes it from my face.

"I'm starving. And if I won, that means you're my personal shadow all day today to help me feel better." I give Babe a small nudge, just enough to make him crack an eye open to look at me. "Y'all head down to the mess hall and get me two of everything while I get ready and meet you there."

After a few seconds of Babe making no moves to get up, Luz jumps up and all but starts dragging him towards the door. "Come on, Babe, you heard your mistress." Because his hands are full with Babe, he can't dodge the pillow I throw and gives out a low 'ow' as it connects with his face.

Just as they were about to close the door, I blurted out the question I've been trying to figure out. "Hey, who helped me home last night?"

"Not sure doll, I was playing darts with Martin, Bull and Babe." Luz almost had the door closed when he poked his back back in. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug, praying it comes out nonchalant while I'm dying inside. "Just needed to ask them a question. I think I lost something on the way home and just wondered if they knew about it." Something being my dignity. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure it out. Thanks." With a nod, Luz closed the door and left me to agonize alone.

The rest of the day was the most frustrating day of my life. Not because of the hangover, that started feeling better after I got some food and water, with a splash of hair of the dog, in me. Babe started to perk up too but was still definitely battling it so I took mercy on him and let him go back to sleep until his turn for patrol that night. I had the day off from helping Nixon censor mail and finalize reports so that didn't add to my frustrations. No, all of my frustration was because I spent the whole day tracking down the guys and asking who helped me home. They all gave the same answer: wasn't me.

Through my investigating, I was able to piece a loose timeline of the night. Once our game was over, I started dancing with Tab, the next song went to Luz, and I somehow managed to drag Toye out for the one after that. Once they all declined another song, I went to the bar to get another drink and ended up singing two bar songs with Malarkey and Muck, who afterwards started up a card game with Toye, Tab and Penkala that went on the rest of the time. I apparently stayed at the bar, chatting with Bull, Martin and Bill till Luz and Babe came over and got them to play darts the rest of the night. Liebgott kept me company at the bar, making sure I started on water but eventually left to start flirting with the barmaid that kept making eyes at him. My last hope was Perco but someone told me he left before I did to get some sleep before his morning patrol.

Just as the sun started to drift down, I was at my wits end. As a last ditch effort, I decided to write up a timeline diagram to triple check that everyone was accounted for. Surely one of the guys was lying to me and waiting to use my confessions as leverage for something. I move everything on my desk to one side and start making my diagram. By my third review of it, I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something. So I write all of the men's names down and start checking them off as I mentally go over the stories again.

Luz...check. Bull...check. Perco...check. Babe...check. Liebgott...check. Tab...check. Toye...check. Muck...check. Malarkey...check. Martin...check. Penkala...check. There's no one left. I was just a lunatic talking to myself and somehow managed to get myself home and in bed like a sober person? Just as I was about to commit to believing that I realized I left one name off the list that didn't show up in anyone's story long enough to be crossed off. Bill...fuck.

I crumbled the paper and practically sprinted to my room, dodging soldiers and helpers like a madwoman. There was more foot traffic as the morning and evening patrol were switching foxholes and dinner was currently going. I managed to catch Babe on his way towards the mess hall and made him swear to tell everyone I was still feeling sick and would be in my room the rest of the night. Thankfully he was still feeling sick, so he took me at my word and didn't pay attention to my erratic behavior.

Back in my room I couldn't decide what I was more humiliated about; spilling my secret feelings about Bill TO Bill or being so drunk I don't know it was Bill I was even talking to. With a belly flop I landed on my bed, pressed my face into my pillow and let out a full body scream. Just as it ended there was a knock on my door.

"Go away, I'm dying." I moved my face to the side so whoever was there could somewhat hear me. It wasn't from drinking but hey, semantics at this point. The knock came again, this time more forceful. "Seriously, whoever is there just let me be." With a huff I push myself off the bed and swing open the door to reveal the cause of all my misery. Bill fucking Guarnere. Fuck me.

He's leaning against the door frame without a care in the world it seems and his signature smirk on his face. He'd never looked better. "You know my ma and sisters would come all the way over here and beat my ass if they ever found out I let a woman be miserable all alone. Especially without food." He raised a small bag to emphasize his point. Without waiting for me to answer, he brushed past me into my room and sat squarely on the bed, leaning against the wall, watching me.

Who knows how long it took my brain to send the right signals to make my body move, but eventually I broke our staring contest, closed the door and made my way to the bed. Because I was basically Nix's aid, I was able to get my own room but it was the barest of bare minimums. Side table, joining bathroom, and a bed against the wall. So the only place left to sit was on the bed with Bill, but I tried to put as much distance as I could so I sat crossed legged against the wall acting as the headboard and looked at the bag he still held.

"What's in there?" I decided the best tactic right now was to pretend nothing happened at all. So far Bill seemed to be of the same mind.

"Bread and some cheese. Didn't know how much your stomach could handle." He tossed the bag to me, nodding his acknowledgement to my quick thanks and I tore it open and started nibbling on the contents. After a few beats, he decided the best time to say something was when my mouth was completely full. "So...heard you lost something last night."

Next thing I know I really do feel like I'm dying as I choke on my bite of food, simultaneously batting away his hands that are trying to reach behind to pat my back. After I get small control over my breathing, I wipe the few tears that formed and down the rest of the water I had at my bedside. Two shaky breaths later all I can manage is squeaking out, "What?"

Bill looks at me with a sliver of concern that I'll start hacking up a lung again, but slowly his normal smirk starts to form and he leans back against the wall. "Luz said you were trying to figure out who helped you home last night because you lost something. Toye and Bull said you were pretty aggressive in your questions about everyone's activities last night. If you haven't figured it out already, I was the one that helped you get home from the bar but I don't recall you losing anything." His posture was relaxed, even lazy, but his eyes were hard and jaw was set. Challenging me to make the next move.

I cleared my throat two times, before I forced myself to speak. "Yeah, I actually figured it out a little bit ago." Bill inclined his head towards me, indicating that he wanted me to elaborate on the 'losing something' part. "I, uh, well I was just trying to figure out who helped me and didn't want Luz asking a million and one questions so that seemed the best answer."

"Why didn't you come find me once you figure it all out?" One thing about Bill Guarnere, he never pulled punches and was a hound dog when he set his mind to something.

"No reason...I, uh, well I just..." I turned all my focus on the crumpled paper bag in front of me so I didn't catch his eyes and completely spill my guts. Sober this time.

"Ah come on sweetheart, cat got your tongue now?" He moved to lean down on his arm, shifting closer to me. "Let me help you remember." With that damn, sexy smirk Bill started recounting the night before to fill in the blanks.

~~ last night, Bill POV ~~

I haven't taken my eyes off her all night. If anyone asked I'd say it was out of concern for how much she drank and watching out for a fellow soldier. That was partly true, but the majority was being jealous. Jealous for how easy she laughed and touched and moved with our friends. Don't get it twisted, we are friends too, closer than most of them but it's not as carefree as these moments I'm witnessing.

It can't be carefree because if I let my guard down for one second I'd spill my guts about how she makes me feel. How everything fades out around the edges when she gives that million dollar smile and her eyes crinkle a little at the sides. How I would do anything stupid again and again to make that little snort come out when she's laughing too hard and can't help it. How I want to protect her from this war so damn bad so I never have to see pain in her eyes. How I'd fight the entire Kraut army for the chance to kiss her just once and hold her in my arms.

But I can't say any of that because I'd rather suffer in silence than risk losing her from my life, even as just a friend. So I stay silent and keep watch as everyone around me enjoys their night without a care in the world, not knowing that my entire world is sitting at the bar alone.

She's just started on a second glass of water when some guy from Fox Company slides up next to her and starts talking. Whatever he said has her turning in her seat to point in the direction of Liebgott that left her for some barmaid. While she's focused on where Liebgott is, I'm focused on watching the guy shamelessly check her out. I down the rest of my beer, shove the glass into Luz's hand and march straight over to the bar before any of the guys can ask what I'm doing.

I make it over just as their hands connect and I can hear them exchanging names.

"I can't believe someone as beautiful as you is here all alone." I'm going to brake this guys jaw.

"She's not alone, private." I push myself to my full height and use my Sergeant's voice. This makes him stand up straighter and drop her hand.

"Bill!" She says my name with so much awe and happiness, as if she hadn't be around me in some fashion throughout the night. Being to drunk to care about policy or decorum she wraps her arms around me and gives me the prettiest smile.

"Hey sweetheart," I give her a soft smile back and wrap one arm around her shoulders, keeping her where she is. I look back at the private with a hard glare and raise an eyebrow. "Need something?"

"No sir, I just came to grab a drink. I'll, uh, I'll just get one over there." He practically runs to the other end of the bar, avoiding anymore eye contact.

A soft giggle, makes me look back down and smile again. "What's so funny, doll?"

"You didn't need to scare him, we were just talking." A piece of her hair falls against her cheek when she laughs again. I move it behind her ear, letting my finger graze her cheek before I answer.

"He wanted to do more than talk, believe me."

"What would I do without Bill Guarnere as my knight in shining armor." The smile she sends up to me is nearly enough to send me to my knees right then and there.

I wrap my other arm around her and drop a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You'll never have to find out, sweetheart. I'm always gonna be there." We stay like that for a minute, which isn't nearly long enough before I say, "Come on, lets get you to bed or you're gonna be dyin' tomorrow."

She manages to be get off the barstool and walk out of the bar so efficiently I wonder if she really is as drunk as I thought, but that hope is dashed once she stumbles over air and starts laughing. I can't help but laugh with her as I grab her hands to steady her.

"We should go dancing." She suddenly says and tries to get me to spin her.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides you probably want Tab for that, seems to be your favorite dancing partner. Always smiling at you and everything" I meant it to come out as a joke, but it sounded more bitter that anything. Thankfully she was in her own thoughts and didn't pick up the edge to my voice.

"He's alright but he doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine." She says it like it's a known fact and the most natural thing in the world for her say. It stops me dead in my tracks, which stops her because we are still holding hands.

"What did you say?" I tug her a little so she's turned around and looking at me. She gives a small shrug.

"Tab is cute and sweet but he's not Bill. I'd kill to dance with him and make him smile. It's so rare and makes my whole day when I can cause it."

"Sweetheart, you do know I'm Bill." I wait for the lightbulb to go off as she takes a step closer and looks at my face.

"No you're not, you're eyes are too dark."

"They're the same as they've been my whole life."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever." She lets go of my hands and starts walking off to her billet. I know I have the goofiest smile on my face as I watch her, before it's wiped away by the realization that she can't remember who I am. Of course I finally get the girl of my dreams to confess her feelings for me and she doesn't even know it's me she's talking to.

Just as I'm catching up to her, trying to figure out what to say, she turns to me with a panic stricken face. "You can't tell him any of this. Swear it." She grasps my hands again, squeezing for dear life.

"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart." I do my best to give her a comforting smile to ease her panic, which seems to work. We don't talk anymore the rest of the way to her billet but we do hold hands the whole way.

Once we are in her room, I can tell she's losing consciousness quickly. I find some pajamas for her to change into, helping just enough to make it easier for her change without seeing or touching anything inappropriate. As she finishes changing and crawls into bed, I fill up a glass of water and set it on the bedside table. I take one final look around to make sure she's comfortable and settled in properly before dropping a kiss on top of her head and heading to the barracks for some shut eye before my patrol.

~~ End of Bill's POV ~~

I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment after Bill tells me the conversation we had. My eyes are firmly planted on the bag in my lap, that I've all but turned into confetti. I feel him shift on the bed again, so he's seated right next in front of me, but I can't bring myself to meet him gaze. His eyes never left my face the whole time he recounted everything and I'm too scared to look and see what emotion I'll find there. Amusement? Pity?

The decision is taken away from me when one of his hands cups the side of my neck and tips my head up to finally meet his gaze. There's a lot of emotion in his eyes, but I can't pinpoint what it is, which scares me even more.

"I'm sor-" I start to say but get cut off.

"Did you mean it?" His voice is soft but firm. He's not going to drop this and seems to be holding his breathe waiting for my answer.

"Yes." The word is barely more than a whisper but I know he heard it from the smile that takes over his face. Next thing I know he's leaning the rest of the way into my space, tilting my head to the side and softly pressing his lips to mine.

My hands reach up to fist his jacket, pulling him closer and the smallest whimper comes up when he nips at my bottom lip. My reaction seems to be all the go ahead Bill needs as he focuses on pulling me so we are flush against each other while taking possession over my mouth. At some point we rearrange ourselves to be laying on the bed, him draped over me like a second skin.

Our kisses between slow and languid to passionate and slightly frenzied. We don't know how long we stay like that, minutes or hours, but when we part our lips are swollen and we are breathing hard. Bill rests his forehead against mine and nudges my nose with his.

"Can I stay the night? No funny business, I just...now that I have you in my arms, I don't want to let you go just yet." He places soft kisses on both my cheeks and then my lips, looking at me with his heart in his eyes.

"I never want to be anywhere except your arms, Bill." I nudge his nose back and return the kiss he just gave. The smile he gives me has my heart melting and my lungs forgetting to breathe.

A few small kisses later, we've arranged ourselves into more comfortable positions; him on his back, me all but laying on top of him, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Slowly we drift off to sleep with smiles on our faces thinking the same thing:

We have our whole world in our arms.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 29

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 29: the aftermath

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

Blackwater lunged at me, hands enclosing around my throat. I couldn't move. My limbs wouldn't listen. I was helpless as he pressed harder still. I needed to breathe. Needed to move. Get off!

Alastor's presence yanked me into the ground. Blackwater clambered after me. His voice was a horrible screeching sound, like a combination of all different voices pitched at different tones.

"Wake up!"

My eyes snapped open to Husker's face. I abruptly drew in a sharp, long breath like I hadn't breathed in hours. I whined as I sucked in and expelled the precious air.

Every muscle in my body hurt. Husker was holding me up with both hands but even the muscles I weren't using were painfully sore. My head was aching too. It wasn't a migraine; something heavier.

"Welcome back." Husker gave a nervous smile. I looked around to see I was in my old room.

"Holy hell toots, you almost died there," Angel said from the other side of the bed. My ear flicked up and turned. My mouth dropped slightly open in a look of shock. "What? What'd I say?" he asked nervously.

I tilted my head, careful with how sore my neck muscles were, and flicked my ear again. No. That wasn't possible. I looked to Husker for help.

"Is it your hearing?" he prompted. I tried to speak but it turned into a painful coughing fit. He lifted a hand from my arm to snap his fingers by that ear. I heard nothing and my ear barely reacted. "You or Althea can heal it, don't worry."

I had Angel magic. Of course I could heal it. Right?

"Alastor," I croaked. My lips were cracked and my throat was dry, all scratchy, and sore.

"He's fine," Husker said, bringing a cold glass of water to my lips. I found it nearly impossible to lift my arms. I could move them a hair but lifting was an entirely different struggle. "You're in far worse shape than him."

After I drank the whole glass, he helped me lay back down. I tried lifting my arms again and found I could but with a great deal of effort. They felt like they had anvils tied to them.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, voice finally returning. It felt hard to focus on anything, like my mind was all over the place. I let out a wide yawn.

"You really pushed your limits." Husker pushed my hair to the side so it wasn't in my face.

"The factory...people might've survived."

"No one survived. Alastor told us where it was and Charlie teleported us. It was miles under the water by the time we got there."

I looked up at the ceiling. It felt like I was barely clinging to coherent thoughts. "Other factories."

"We'll hit them one by one. There's an Overlord meeting tomorrow night."

"How long have I been asleep?" I had to restart the sentence a few times just to make it coherent.

"A couple days. You've been through—"

The door creaked open and Alastor's red ears poked in. His worried expression turned into a smile as we made eye contact. He crossed the room to where Husker was sitting on the edge of the bed. I noticed his walk was slow, almost calculated, and his cane sounded heavier on the wood. He had a bandage around his head but he still wore his normal attire. Always proper. Always put together. Always Alastor.

Husker stood up to allow him to sit, leaving with Angel to grab food for me. Alastor ran the back of a single claw along my cheek. I turned my head into it, my hands heavy over my stomach and unable to move from the covers. He turned his hand to let his palm rub gently on my skin.

"I am glad to see you awake." His radio filter was off and his voice sounded deeper and more crackly. It must be from the screaming when they tried to operate on him.

"You're okay," was all I could say. The world was at a strange, slight slant and the colors of the room seemed vibrant. I was really starting to lose it.

"That is the second time you've saved me, darling." He planted a kiss on my forehead. "I suppose you aren't as useless as you once were."

I chuckled, pain pinching my lungs as I did so. I opened my mouth and took several seconds to form my sentence. "Poor way of saying thank you."

"Perhaps this will suffice?" He pressed a gentle kiss on my lips. My muscles relaxed and I wished he would press just a tad bit harder. He reached out with his presence to interlace with mine.

He said something else but I didn't hear at first. The second time I heard but couldn't understand. The third I simply just couldn't comprehend anything. He said something different and placed a kiss on my forehead, pushing his weight on his cane to help him stand.

My hands didn't work and my mind was all over the place. I let out a loud whine as he turned to leave. I licked my dry lips and gave him a desperate look. Please understand what I'm asking, even if I don't.

To my great relief, he walks around the bed and sits on the vacant side. I used what little energy I have to shuffle closer so my nose is up against his coat. He smelled like a bonfire, a sweet one. His gentle claws thread through my hair and around my horns, carefully scratching in all the right spots.

I was asleep within seconds.

****

"Darling, I don't think it's wise for you to attend this meeting," Alastor tried gently. We were pushing the time, risking the chance of being late to the Overlord meeting with Lucifer. I had managed to stand on my own to dress myself but I was far from recovered, one might even argue that I shouldn't even be awake.

"I need to get rid of Blackwater's soul," I told him, clipping the necklace of his crest around my neck. I wore the same black and red attire I had previously to this type of meeting: a gorgeous red dress with white lining on the hem.

"Then we request Lucifer to visit. You should be resting right now." He placed one hand on my hip and the other on my cheek. He was smiling but his eyes showed concern. My hearing was still broken on the one side. Althea couldn't heal it but there was still a chance that I could with my Angelic magic.

"They need to see me there," I argued, "They need to see me give his soul to Lucifer. I just..." I teetered slightly and he pulled me close to keep me upright. "I need your energy when I do. Please."

His eyes examined my face, pupils shifting slightly as he did. Our magic hadn't separated since I woke up so I was reading into his exact thoughts and feelings. He knew I was right but his concern and care was trying to overwhelm it. I ran one hand up his spine and felt him calm surprisingly fast.

I laid my cheek on his chest and said quietly, "I want your help."

That did it.

He agreed with a heavy sigh and helped me walk through the house. Using shadows made my head spin so he didn't dare try to travel like that. Teleporting was its own problem, the motion spiking a migraine and making my limbs buzz in a funny way. I clung to him, taking a slow, grounding breath before walking through the palace doors.

The last of the Overlords entered the large room. My claws tapped on the tile floor and I clung tighter to Alastor's arm. He was walking slowly for me on purpose. Everything I did had to have intent, my limbs feeling like heavy magnets. Heads turned as we walked in and followed as Alastor led me to Lucifer's chair, the King of Hell standing with a smile.

His smile turned to surprise as I carefully knelt on one knee, hand extended upward. Charlie had given him a heads up about taking Blackwater's soul from me. He had plagued my sleep and even my waking mind. Even now he was trying to claw his way up through my thinned magic.

"Let's take that soul off your hands," Lucifer said smoothly, hand touching mine. I drew on Alastor's energy as I pulled Blackwater through my shields. Lucifer stood beside me in my mind space and waited. Blackwater made a run for me but barely got halfway when Lucifer's gold magic enclosed around him. I drew on more energy from Alastor to help solidify Blackwater's soul in order for Lucifer to take him from me.

A moment later, I blinked my eyes open to Lucifer's black boots. I lifted my head as he withdrew his hand, gold sparks fading away. The strain on my magic from holding Blackwater was gone and it felt like a heavy weight had just been lifted off my chest.

Thankfully Alastor was keeping me upright and practically lifted my entire weight to my feet. He then led me to his vacant chair and stood beside me, arms folded behind his back. Granted I was physically weak but such a motion was shocking from him, even the other Overlords didn't seem to know what to think of it.

"Well, uh, this certainly brings things full circle," Lucifer started, sitting down in his black and red seat, "but we need to ensure all of his assets are destroyed. Especially since we've lost four surface Overlords."

The conversation carried on for an hour. The Overlords fought over who would attack what factory and several attempts to gain more territory. The fighting was annoying and Lucifer repeatedly told them to settle territory claiming at the surface. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in the conversation and failed to notice my nodding off. Alastor would consistently touch my shoulder to keep me upright and wake me up. Everything felt very heavy and my muscles ached from the strain. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to curl up against Alastor's side and fall asleep for hours.

Eventually, to my great relief, the meeting came to an end. The Overlords filed out of the room but Vox lingered, scowling, and holding my eyes for a moment too long. Alastor stepped up to block my view from him and helped me up to my feet. I hooked my arm around his and thanked Lucifer for taking Blackwater's soul. The King of Hell himself gave his own kind of bow and thanked me for it.

Alastor led me to the front of the palace doors before teleporting back up to the surface. My knees buckled as soon as my feet hit the ground, Alastor's other arm moving at lightning speed to catch me. I gripped at his shirt, fearing I would tear it, as my fingers slipped against the fabric when he hoisted me back up.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, suddenly unable to keep my eyes open all the way.

Alastor banished his cane and reached down, lifting my legs up so he was carrying me bridal style. My hand grabbed the spot near his neck as I leaned my weight into him. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit his shoulder. The smell of his cedarwood, smokey scent was like a sleeping drug. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep until I was being placed on soft sheets and warm covers pulled up to my shoulder.

I pried my tired eyes open as Alastor straightened up. Everything about his form, from his chest, to his ears, to his antlers, to his face, everything was gratifyingly appealing. Once upon a time I had hated him. Once upon a time I wanted nothing more than to be an ocean away from him. Now, I could barely handle him being in a different room.

"Don't leave," I mumbled as he walked away. My nerves abated slightly at the sight of his room.

He chuckled. "I am coming to join you, my love." He walked to the other side of the bed and, with a snap of his fingers, changed out of his usual suit and into a plain black long sleeve and pants. He climbed in bed as elegantly as ever and shifted close.

"Why always a long sleeve?" My words were starting to slur together. I sounded drunk.

"Does it bother you?" he questioned amusingly. He positioned himself so that his arm was under my head. I hooked my arm on his opposing side and tried to pull myself onto my side. He pulled me the rest of the way until I was leaning my face on his shoulder, tail wrapping comfortably around his ankle.

"I like your skin," I slurred once again, hand lazily reaching up to touch his cheek. I loved seeing his genuine smile. He snapped his fingers and the fabric on my cheek disappeared. I reached my hand further down to touch his other arm, skin as smooth as I thought. My smile grew.

"Time for sleep, my love," he kissed my forehead and brought my hand to rest on his chest, his own laying on top of mine. I was asleep within seconds.

****

It took a full week in order for the heaviness to go away. I was still incredibly tired all the time, stealing naps left and right where I could. Althea couldn't necessarily heal anything, and neither could I, aside from my one ear, since it was mostly all mental health. My soul was trying to regenerate its energy and no one except myself could do that. It was aggravating to deal with since it was very time consuming.

Althea was determined for me to sleep even more than what I was doing already. She was having me take long walks with Reagan, Vivian, or Vilcin. The more tired I was, the more I would sleep, the faster I would heal. That was Althea's train of thought, anyways.

I managed to evade her one cool evening and hide away in Alastor's room. I opened the window and curled up with pillows, the familiar red blanket, and my sketchbook. I was extremely content. The salty, cool summer breeze brushed softly on my face as I sketched Alastor from memory. It felt like things couldn't get bad, though I knew in the back of my mind there was always a chance.

For now, I was happy.

I did several rough sketches of him before attempting a more detailed one. I played with blending the led then did a loose sketch with a pen overtop. It turned out better than I thought and attempted it a second time before calling it quits. I was losing the sunlight.

Finally I finished and let out a huge yawn, stretching out my limbs and cracking my spine back in place. I leaned back into the pillows comfortably.

"Is that me?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice directly in my ear. I snapped the book to my side, out of view. "When did you come in?" I asked in bewilderment, mostly from embarrassment.

"That's quite stunning artwork," he ignored my question, standing up with his arms behind his back. I closed the sketchbook and the window. "Come now, darling, it was meant as a compliment." He placed his claw gently on my shoulder. Alcine and his shadow sprouted on the wall to look at each other.

"Thank you." I gripped the edges of the sketchbook tightly.

He leaned down and gave me a sweet, gentle kiss. "You may continue, I will do my own work." He unclipped his coat and casted it on the bed. My eyes refused to leave his slim form until his gaze fell on me. I pretended to look out the dark window.

I stayed like that for awhile, the sound of his pen scratching on paper and the fire popping were the only noises I could hear. It felt peaceful again.

I grew cold by the window, though, and after drawing the curtain closed, I went to stand in front of the fire. Alastor's mind wrapped tighter around mine as I did but he didn't move. Staring at his back, I realized this was the first time he was actually keeping his back to me for a long time. He was almost always facing me or if his was back was to me it was only for a moment.

I felt the trust as much as he felt my realization of it.

The warmth of the fire was better than magic warmth. I kept my palms open to the orange glow and let it soothe the aching muscles in my back. I would need to sit soon. Standing still took some effort.

I found myself staring at Alastor's back. A moment later, I had stepped forward and touched his broad shoulder.

He flinched.

I retracted my hand.

His smile was strained as he turned sharply to me. I held my hand tight against my stomach and covered by my other one. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I'm sorry."

He let out a visible sigh, shoulders and eyebrows relaxing. His eyes jumped to my tightly clasped hands. 

"I'll uh...I'll ask next time." I took a step away.

"That would be preferred." He held out his hand, as if asking me to take it. He waited, outstretching it further when I didn't move from my restrained position.

Finally, feeling his nerves dissipating in his mind, I gradually extended my arm and let him wrap his long, red claws around my small hand. He pulled me closer and placed a soft kiss on my fingers.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"It was unexpected. I was focused." He brought my fingers up to his cheek and tilted his head so he was leaning on them. "Perhaps you will continue now that I am aware."

He placed my hand on his shoulder, right in the spot between it and his neck, and turned back to his papers. I ran my hand across the back of his neck, to the other shoulder, back again, then into his hair. I felt the suppressed groan.

I scratched in the spot between his antlers and watched the pen fall from his fingers. He was still for the most part as I continued, now using both hands to scratch along the base of his ears.

When my fingers started to get tired, I dared a light touch down the back of his neck. His whole body shivered and his ears fell sideways instead of backwards like they usually did.

"You will be the death of me, my dear." He took my hand and placed another kiss on it.

As he looked up to meet my eyes, I came down to kiss him on the lips. His ears shot back up in surprise. My hand shook as I brought it up to touch his cheek, the exact same gesture he always did for me.

He grabbed the bottom of my chin and pulled away. "Is there something you are looking for, dear?" he asked sweetly.

Unbeknownst to him, I saw what he wanted from me. His nerves were just as high as mine but I felt his mind pulling me closer and closer.

"What I'm looking for is right in front of me." I moved to stand more in front of the chair, squished between it and the table with my legs against his, and put both hands on the armrests.

"Is that so, love?" He hooked a sharp claw under my chin to pull me closer. I leaned my weight on my arms as he drew me in for another kiss. His teeth dampened save for a set of canines so he could slip his tongue into my mouth. The word dominating came to mind.

His hand moved to the back of my head as the other grabbed at my waist, pulling hard. I put one knee on the side of the cushion to shift my weight off my arms. His hand on my head moved down to the other side of my waist and did the same. I swallowed my nerves, and some of his saliva, as I brought my other knee up so I was straddling him in a way.

My hands were on either side of his neck, right in the soft spot before his shoulder started, but his hands moved to the armrests. His claws punctured the wood as his tongue did all the pulling to keep us close.

I could hear his concerns, feel the effort it was taking, and see his eyebrows furrowed together. I grabbed his wrists, the surprise a jolt of energy between us, and moved them to my thighs just as he had done with my hands on his neck.

He pulled away from the kiss, breath heavy. "You mustn't feel pressured," he offered.

I rubbed my thumb across his cheek, earning a fleeting glance from his beady eyes, and answered with, "Read my thoughts, Al. I want to try again."

"Then you will show me what you desire, love. I will do nothing else."

I'm sure he meant it in a touching way, but it made me nervous to show him where I wanted him to try touching. Perhaps it was more embarrassment then anything.

He leaned off the back of the chair with his usual smile, lips a hair from my own and waiting. I pressed into the kiss as my hands moved up his neck and into his hair. This time he moaned. It made a strange twisting feeling in my gut, the vibrations reaching through my lips and into my head.

My tail wrapped several times around one of his legs as I pressed harder, shoving his head into the back of the chair. I carefully brought my claws down his neck, over the soft fabric, down his arms, and gripped his hands. I breathed into the kiss as I plucked them off my thighs and placed them on my back, under my shirt.

He splayed his hands so his entire palms were touching my skin. His claws felt cold but his palms felt insanely warm. I felt a different kind of heat suffocating my chest and daring to go lower.

I trust you not to hurt me. I sent him directly.

I couldn't imagine such a thing, my darling. He answered. Though when fleeting images of my first year with him came to the forefront, he added, Not anymore.

His palms moved methodically up and down my back, occasionally letting his claws leave a red line or two. Meanwhile I was fighting him with my equally long tongue. I had my hands behind his head as I tilted my own to the side to reach further in. All I was seeing was red and green. All I was feeling was hot warmth. All I was tasting was him.

The kissing turned aggressive once he bit my tongue enough to draw blood. He sucked on the sweet liquid before moving to my neck. His magic came a hair too late to dull the pain of the bite and as retaliation I squeezed his ear too hard. He winced and dulled the pain in appeasement, teeth still buried in my neck.

He licked up my blood as his claws dared to cause even more to spill. I put my own claws on the back of his neck, ready to puncture the vulnerable spot if he drew too much.

His arms suddenly wrapped around me and he stood. I instinctively wrapped my legs around him despite him carrying nearly my entire weight with ease. He moved to the bed and laid me on my back, attacking my neck once again. The pressure from his weight on my chest was a new feeling.

"Not all the way," I breathed.

Of course, my love, he answered. But your blood is oh so addicting.

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

Author's Note:

aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh

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

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette

[mayajadewrites]

Sweet Secret (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F! Reader CEO Levi Ackerman coming in hot. I've been wanting to write a CEO Levi/Sugar daddy Levi story for a hot minute. Enjoy! Story Summary: You needed a job. Ackerman Inc was hiring for an in house assistant for none other than the CEO: Levi Ackerman. He's known to be essentially the worst to work with, you decide to take the job and take on the challenge that is Levi Ackerman. Will your relationship remain professional, or will their be monetary value added to the stakes? Or possibly even... love? ao3 Chapter Seventeen: Warmth

The smell of your vanilla shampoo fills Levi's nostrils as he takes a deep breath. Your hair was wet, sticking to your skin as it stretched down your back.

"Stay." Your voice is soft enough to comfort Levi's everlasting mental wounds. You would never know, but the way you speak soothes Levi's soul. He came from a place of violence, poverty, and loneliness that left his body with invisible scars. He was always alone. 

Always.

Until you.

After you changed into your pajama set, your smooth skin rubbing against the fabric of your tank top and shorts. "Can you be honest with me about something?" You take a step toward Levi, letting your chin tilt upwards towards his face.

Levi only nodded.

"You're not one to hold back anyways, so I don't know why I asked." You crossed your arms over your chest, all of your feelings bubbling to your head. You feel like your entire body is on fire whenever you look at Levi. The feelings have become too much to bear alone. 

The past few days have shown you who Levi is, specifically who he is when he's with you. Your entire life seemingly shattered around you and there he was to pick up each and every piece and glue it all back together.

"Spit it out." Levi's voice interrupted your thoughts. 

"Do you feel anything between us? Besides our... arrangement." 

"Be more specific." 

"When I'm with you, I feel like I can be myself. That I can let everything else go and only focus on you and I. You light a fire inside me. When I look at you, it's like theres a whole butterfly garden in my tummy that takes flight."

You watched Levi's eyes follow your movements as you spoke, his eyes blue-grey clouds and you would love to curl up on. Your eyes dragged down to his jawline, studying his chiseled face that was crafted by Renaissance artists. Your hands were screaming to touch him, but you restrained yourself.

"Mm." Levi stands up a little straighter as he peers at you through his half-lidded eyes.

"That's all you have to say?" 

"You bring me... warmth." He finally spoke. You weren't sure what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn't 'warmth'. 

You raise your eyebrow as you wait for him to explain further, to which he sighed and shook his head. He didn't want to explain himself more because he didn't know how to put what he felt into words that were coherent. 

"All my life, I've done everything alone. I wanted to be alone. Never having to rely on anyone, lean on anyone, nothing. Which is why I've never been good at relationships. The women I were interested in, well, I was sort of interested in - they weren't... right. It was like I was trying to succumb to what people were telling me to do. Erwin would tell me it's nice to have someone to come home to. I dated one woman, who I semi-enjoyed spending time with. It was more physical though. There was not really any mental connection which is very important to me. So that ended fast."

You stood and listened to Levi. Your large doe-like eyes watched his mouth as he spoke, making sure you understand every word that he's saying. 

"When I met you, something inside of me changed. It was like I was a block of ice, and you were a small flame. I almost didn't want to acknowledge it was happening. Once I couldn't anymore, I brought up the 'arrangement'. I just wanted more of a reason to be near you. To feel your warmth." 

You can't help but feel tears well up in your eyes. The melody of his words played through your ears - more of those butterflies being released in your tummy. 

"I was serious when I said I want to be there for you through whatever you throw at me. Not as your boss, not as your sugar daddy, but as your man. As your partner."

Gulp.

"The way I feel about you... I've never felt for anyone. I want to create a home with you. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want life. With you." Levi's hands reached for yours. Finally. His touch. You let your hands mend to his as he holds your hands close to his lips, leaving kisses on your knuckles. You watched as his lips left your skin, hoping his touch would forever linger.

"I want you to be mine. I want to be yours." 

You bring yourself closer to him as he speaks and wrap your arms around his body. You press your chin to his chest as you study the expression on his face. 

"I've been yours, Levi. I tried to deny it so many times. I'm yours, unapologetically." 

His Index finger finds your chin as he brings your face to his, eliminating all space between you with a kiss. It's slow, but filled with passion. You drag your fingertips along his body as you reach his neck, tracing shapes along his undercut. 

Levi's tongue moves along your lower lip as he begs for entry, to which you oblige. His breath hitches when you open your mouth slightly, his hands squeezing your plush hips gently. Your skin starts to feel hot as his fingertips sneak into the elastic of your shorts, the pads of his fingers gently pressing against your skin.

You press your body into his as he touch leaves you feeling like you're on fire, the kisses almost fleeting. Levi brought his attention back to your lips, making sure he puts most of his effort there. Your lips were soft, like pillows that Levi always wanted to be on.

"Levi." You take a breath as your heart rate excellerates. "I need you." 

"Tsk." Levi sucked his teeth. "You are so impatient. We're not making love for the first time like this." 

"Are you saying all those other times weren't love?!" You say sarcastically, putting your hand on your chest. "I'm offended, Levi Ackerman." 

"Shut up." He presses his lips to your temple. "Let's go to bed."

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Having a Partner With Bipolar Disorder

A/N: I have Bipolar II, so I can only write from my own experience and what I do to cope. I wrote a Peaky Blinders request similar to this, too ages ago. Know that I'm not trying to glamorize or romanticize anything. I just have a really hard time seeing myself be in a relationship with anyone because of this disorder and I fear no one will love me or someone like me because of all this 😅 I just want this to be sweet for anyone going through the same things I do! 💜💜💜

Connor has no idea what you're talking about. You seem fine, right? It's only when you finally break down, exhausted from keeping up the facade, do you tell him that you have Bipolar Disorder. He's heard of it of course, but not in the terms you're thinking of. In jokes about his dad being "so bipolar", about the weather being "so bipolar", but not like this. He sits you down, hating that you thought you needed to hide this from him, that you were using every last bit of your energy and focus to keep yourself together. You weren't even doing a very good job, you thought, canceling your last date because you couldn't leave your house. He asks a lot of clarifying questions, needing to understand what it is, why you have it, how long you've had it. It runs in your family, and you've had it for a long time. You're managing things with medications and therapy, but it doesn't stop these episodes from happening, not completely. The next question he asks brings tears to your eyes: how can I help? No one's ever asked that. They dismiss you, saying you don't have it because you're not explaining your entire history, your every thought, to them. Or they shake their heads/roll their eyes, not wanting to hear or care about it, like you should stop talking about it. Connor wants to be there through everything, even the hard parts. He's not giving up on you or your relationship like you feared. He cares about you, every part of you, and nothing will ever change that. He assures you, nothing.

Kendall isn't sure what to say besides okay. He knows you're in therapy, that you take meds at night, but he doesn't really give it a second thought. Not until he finds you standing in the scalding shower, date night clothes on and soaking wet, does he start asking questions. You can't answer, give a coherent one at least. Your skin won't stop crawling and this is the only way to make it better. It's the only way to regulate without doing something self-destructive. You stand there for as long as you need. It's not until a few days later that you tell him you have Bipolar Disorder. Okay. That you're beginning to feel manic. Okay. That you can go through periods of mania and depression. Okay. That the hot water helps. Okay. That you're not a danger to anyone else or yourself. Okay. That you're in therapy, that you're taking your meds, that if he doesn't want to be with you anymore you'd understand. That knocks the wind out of him. What? That's not at all what he wants to do. You know that he's not understanding the full weight of your words, that he's only seen you hypo/manic, the fun, bubbly, lively you. He hasn't seen you depressed, he hasn't seen you crash like you will soon. You ask him to take a break, until you're back to stable. He asks how long that will be. You're not sure. After about a week he shows up at your doorstep, unable to be without you. You still remain careful, explaining everything to him, making sure he knows what he's getting into. You're still not convinced despite the years you've been together. Kendall isn't worried. He'll be with you through it all. Everything.

Shiv I love shiv she's so pretty knows quite a bit about it. She took a psych class in college hoping to diagnose a few family members. She understands the basics, the two ends of the spectrum, but she's never met anyone with it. At least, that she knows of. She finds out about it the first night you sleep over at her house. You think you're being quiet with the pill bottles, but she's quieter, making you jump as she appears out of nowhere. You say they're for sleep, but she knows better. You try to shrug it off like it's nothing, but she wants to talk about it. You can't meet her eyes when you explain everything. The reason she's never been to your place is because you've been depressed lately and it's a mess and it's taking everything out of you just to show up to work. She holds your hand through all this, playing with your fingers, a sign that she's worried. You think you've ruined it all. She must hate you for deceiving you like this. Instead she grabs her bag and walks you to the car. From there you go to your apartment where she starts cleaning. You're so embarrassed at the state of things, but she doesn't seem to mind. She never wants to hear your voice crack like that again, she never wants you to be so full of guilt and shame like that again. You'll figure it out together, you will, she promises you. She'll help you every step of the way.

Roman at first makes a joke about it. You knew he would. He's seen you at your lowest, he's seen your scars, he's heard all the horror stories. You're not trying to scare him away with this, you just need him to know that sometimes things can get very bad and he needs to be prepared for that if he wants to be with you. You've been together a long time before you work up the courage to tell him, though he's suspected something for a while. You couldn't get out of your bed, you weren't eating, you were sleeping and crying and shaking all day. You'd completely shut him out, not answering his calls or texts. He deserved an explanation that wasn't a half-assed apology. It all makes sense now. So, what, now I'm dating two people for the price of one? You're being vulnerable and all he has to say is that? Once he sees the look of hurt on your face, he immediately apologizes, over and over again. Of course he can make jokes about it, you'd prefer if he did instead of never bringing it up again, just not right now when you're trying to have a serious conversation. You tell him that if he wants to call it quits, he can, that you would totally understand. You know it's not easy living with you, dealing with all this, at least he has the chance to leave. That's what he calls you crazy for, for thinking he would leave you over something like this. He's seen you as your worst and he loves you more than life itself. Not despite it, not out of ignorance or because he feels like he should, he just does. Bipolar Disorder won't change that. Nothing will. You're stuck with him.

[thatonegirlfromwattpad]

𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 (2.2𝙠 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨)

"𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘻𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴"

𝟏𝟖+

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You are Matt Murdock's intern at his law office and one night you both stay late to catch up on his current caseload. You'd had an innocent crush on him since you started working under him, but you never thought the feelings would be reciprocated. What could possibly come from staying late at the office alone with Mr. Murdock?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, sexual content, age gap, praise kink, soft!Matt, unprotected sex, asking for consent (swoon)

You knew you should've been focusing more on your work all day, but you couldn't stop staring at Mr. Murdock.

Ever since your internship started two weeks ago, you immediately had developed a crush on him, despite him being your boss — and not to mention, at least ten years older than you. But you didn't have much control over your feelings when it came to his brown hair, rounded glasses that perched on the bridge of his nose, and his soft smile.

So now here you were, staying extremely late at the law office with him, all because you couldn't manage to finish your work like you were supposed to.

Technically, this was his fault.

"Is everything okay?"

Mr. Murdock's voice pulled you from your distracting thoughts, your eyes lifting from the stack of files in front of you to peek up at his figure hovering over you, your heart already hammering against your chest at his close proximity.

"I'm sorry?" you squeaked.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," he stated coolly, his hands resting on top of his walking stick. "And you've been distracted today, are you okay?"

He was always attentive, kind. There were days when he would bring you coffee in the morning, when it should be you bringing it to him. Lunch was always on him, you hadn't had to pay for lunch since you had first arrived, and he always walked out with you after a work day to ensure you arrived at your car safely.

It was no wonder you couldn't focus.

"I'm just, um," you laughed softly, brushing your hair back over your shoulder nervously. "I'm just distracted, I'm sorry. I shouldn't let that interfere with work."

The corner of his lip lifted faintly.

"By what?"

His brazen question took you off guard, your lips parting faintly as you blinked apprehensively up at him — although he couldn't see it. Your hands receded from the desk into your lap, your fingers fumbling with the hem of your plaid skirt.

"Nothing, it's nothing," you reassured him in a weak voice. "It won't happen again."

If he could see, he would see the way your cheeks were flushed a bright, crimson color as you struggled to compose your shaky breathing. You were thankful that he couldn't notice the way your legs were bouncing anxiously or the the way you gnawed at your lip.

"You heart is practically thumping out of your chest, I wouldn't say that it's nothing."

Huh?

Your eyebrows pulled together instantly as you gawked up at him now, having trouble comprehending exactly how on Earth he could even know just how hard your heart was pumping in your chest. This only made it somehow pound harder, ringing echoing inside of your ears as you struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"H-how do you—"

"When I lost my sight," he explained collectedly, a faint smile dancing on his lips. "It ... heightened everything else."

You gulped.

"So, you can hear my heartbeat?"

"When it's beating as rapidly as yours is right now," he chuckled softly. "Yes."

Great.

Quickly standing up from the desk, you smoothed out your skirt as you swallowed thickly. "Yeah, sorry, it's really nothing. I'm just going to use the bathroom right quick."

As you swiftly attempted to dart around him and escape to the bathroom and hide, his hand reached out to grip your arm gently, stopping you in your tracks as his head turned to face you.

"Don't run away," he pleaded faintly. "Stay."

Your mind was spinning as you peeked up at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as the warmth from his touch radiated across your entire body — goosebumps following closely behind.

His hand loosened, his fingers trailing down your beige sweater before reaching up to pull his glasses from his face, revealing his light brown eyes that you had never seen before. The swirls of sepia colored specs only made your obvious nervousness grow as you stared up at his soft eyes.

"Tell me what's making you so nervous," Mr. Murdock urged gently. "You're fidgeting, your chest is heaving, I can hear your unsteady breathing."

"Uh," you paused, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips. "I don't—"

"Don't lie to me, sweet girl."

A breathless laugh escaped your lips, butterflies swarming in your stomach from the pet name, making you clench your legs together as they spiraled between them — straight to your core. You examined the way he smirked down at you, his eyes resting along the edge of your face, unable to stare directly at you.

"Do I make you nervous?" he continued when you failed to respond.

"Yes," you rasped.

His smile deepened as his hand lifted, his finger caressing your nose, your cheekbones, your jawline, studying you slowly. Your breath halted in your throat at his touch, chills trailing down your spine as you peered up at him through your thick lashes. His bearded lips were parted in awe as he grazed your skin.

"I picked up on your heartbeat the moment you stepped into my office on that first day," he murmured, his fingers trailing down your neck now, gliding lightly across your collarbone.

It took every fiber in your body not to squirm underneath his fingers, your chest heaving weakly as you caught your breath once more, your nipples pricking beneath your clothes as he tickled your skin.

And then his hands left you, reaching up to loosen the tie around his neck as he whisked it from himself, fumbling with it in his fingers as he contemplated for a moment.

"Turn around for me," he ordered lowly.

You twisted around on your heel slowly, facing the opposite direction as your nerves tingled in anticipation for what was going to happen next, biting your lip harshly as the seconds ticked by.

A gasp escaped your full lips as the tie clouded your vision, wrapping around your head as he tied it behind you, tightly against your hair.

"Now your senses will be heightened, too."

Your fingers feebly fumbled with the creases in your skirt as the hairs on the back of your neck pricked, his breath fanning across your skin as he spoke. His lips pressed carefully against your neck, making you flinch, as the pressure in your core grew. He lingered for a moment, practically giving you heart palpitations, before his lips left you.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yes sir," you croaked.

A whimper left your lips as his hands brushed your hair behind your shoulders, just before his mouth found your neck once more, peppering kisses down to your collarbone slowly.

You were frozen, scared to move as his mouth devoured your most sensitive spots around your throat, scared your knees would buckle beneath you.

The goosebumps kept spreading across your skin in waves with every kiss, relentlessly making you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Your breath caught in your throat as his hands gripped your waist, walking you backwards until the back of your thighs smacked against the desk you were previously manning.

He was right — your senses were definitely elevated. Every little movement sparked butterflies inside of you, in your chest, your stomach, your core.

Your squeak that bubbled through your lips at the sudden movement was muffled as his mouth smashed into yours, molding feverishly as he kissed you, lifting you up onto the desk as your legs naturally wrapped around his waist.

He tasted sweet, like vanilla and faint cinnamon, reminding you of an autumn day.

His hands gripped your thighs, gliding beneath your skirt, as his fingers traced along your panty line. The feeling stirred something in you, your legs tightening around him as the wetness seeped through your panties, your tongue flicking into his mouth to taste more of him.

A groan rumbled through his chest as his tongue clashed with yours, his skilled fingers creeping beneath the lace fabric of your underwear, teasing your clit as he felt how wet you were for him.

"Mmm," he hummed, his thumb finding your swollen bud as he swirled circles against it. "This is for me?"

"Yes," you moaned, throwing your head back as he worked his fingers against you.

You hitched your legs higher as he inserted a finger inside of you, arching your back as you pressed deeper into him, needing more. He pumped his finger into you steadily, curling upwards as he did so, his thumb still working you from outside.

You could already feel pressure building inside of your core, your stomach spinning wildly as you grinded needily against his palm.

"Fuck," he breathed, adding another finger as he picked up the pace.

"More," you mumbled, your hands gripping the sleeves of his suit. "I want more."

His lips found your neck again as a moan left his mouth, his fingers slamming into you now hungrily as he pressed his hard length against you through his slacks. He was throbbing for you, pulsating against your thigh and you hadn't even done anything yet.

It felt fucking huge.

"Fuck me," you pleaded in a whine, tugging him closer as you splayed your legs desperately. "Fuck me, Mr. Murdock, please."

His teeth nipped at the crevice of your neck as you spoke, his hands leaving you suddenly, making you whimper from the loss of contact. You could hear his belt coming unfastened as he quickly tugged his pants down just enough for his dick to spring free, grazing against your entrance teasingly.

Your fingers ripped the tie from your eyes, eager to see him now.

His eyes were frantic, heavy as they searched for you, his lips parted as he panted arduously, his dick was massive — slightly intimidating you as you gawked down at it, taking your lip between your teeth.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked troubledly.

"Please," you begged once more. "I want you inside of me."

His eyebrows cinched needingly at your words, his fingers wrapping around his length as he positioned it at your entrance, sliding it up and down through your dripping folds for lubrication before pushing the tip of his cock into you.

A breathless moan left your lips as he filled you up, stretching you out as he pushed deeper into you, your hands grasping his hips and shoving slightly as the sharp sting emanated from inside of your core.

"It's so deep," you hissed, unsure if you could take all of him at once.

His hands grasped your face as he gradually made you take every inch of him, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones as you gasped from the temporary pain of him pushing himself into you fully.

"That's it, baby," he cooed, his voice faint as his chest heaved. "You're doing so good."

He paused for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to him before he started a steady pace, pumping himself into you now as his fingers tangled in your hair. The pressure inside of you was almost too much to handle now, your mouth agape as he picked up speed.

"Fuck, I'm already close," you cried out, your hands gripping his clothes. "So close."

This only encouraged him to thrust harder into you, his breath fanning across your neck as he fucked you, the sound of his moans making you clench tighter around him.

"Look at you, taking my dick like such a good girl."

The filth leaving his mouth was enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm peaking as waves of euphoria washed over you. Your legs shook as he continued to pump into you, riding out your climax as he fucked you, his speed never faltering as your juices soaked him.

Loud moans filled the room now as he pounded into you, your skin smacking against each other, your breath halting at the sensitivity that took over after your orgasm. No one had ever been so deep inside of you before, the thought alone would make you cum again.

You could feel him beginning to throb inside of you, your eyes staring up at his scrunched features, your hands finding his hips as you pulled him towards you needily with every thrust.

"You're going to make me cum," he warned shakily, his breathing uneven as he rammed into her, pressing his forehead into her chest.

"You feel so good," you cooed into his ear, flicking your tongue along his earlobe as you held him against you. "Harder, Mr. Murdock, please."

He growled into your sweater, thrusting so hard into you that the desk had scooted backwards, his hands gripping your ass as his dick twitched inside of you — filling you up as his orgasm overcame him, the sound of your mewls in his ear sending him over the edge as you milked his pulsating length.

Your chests heaved against each other as you both took a second to catch your breaths, still holding each other tightly.

His head lifted after a while, the smile had reappeared on his features, as he pecked your lips gently.

"Wanna go again?"

[lavendertownsghost]

RvB Restoration incoherent liveblog, then more coherent thoughts at the end

spoilers of course

Kai!!! God I hope she's in more than one scene

Why do I feel like something's up with Wash?

Wait when did they get Sheila back??

Hey they actually mentioned O'mally and how Doc perceived that

Like how they kept Grif being absolutely done with everything like in season 15

Simmons stop being mean to your boyfriend

I just realized that Epsilon's armor is from a different game than the others

Oohhh wow the Great Destroyer prophecy is actually relevant

wait how is Felix part of the Meta 2.0? I thought they just couldn't get Elijah Wood back for Sigma and that's the orange AI talking to Delta, but it's actually a version of Felix??

Yep, totally expected the Reds to nope out xD

OK that's totally Sigma with a different voice actor (Miles?). Or was Epsilon was implying that Felix and Sigma merged somehow.

This is also a real good look into how Maine was tortured

Tucker noooooo :(

Wash go save your boyfriend

Also wait why is Wash in a hospital again? he was fine at the end of season 13. Unless this is a hallucination and he had a mental break

Surprised Grif went along with this

479er!!!! My girl!

Also did Sarge forget for like the 3rd time that the Red vs Blue fight was fake?

Ahhh yes, the classic Sarge plan of 'Kill Grif'

Love how they glossed over the actual fight at the end of season 13

Oh god the zoom class flashbacks

WAIT WHAT

oh shit that's Tucker in the armor

hey you know what would be real fucked? if Junior shows up

oh wow didn't expect the Reds to straight up leave Caboose to die

wait Sarge don't do a heroic sacrifice

hell yeah Sarge badass moment!

oh no Sarge in front of that door

fuck, if anyone from Blood Gulch was going to die it would be Sarge

aww Sarge finally saying he's proud of Simmons legitimately has me tearing up

People are going to say that Sarge being nice to Grif is out of character, but honestly I think it fits

why do I think Doc is a hallucination of Wash's?

oh wow Simmons

Grimmons moment? Run away with me, just the two of us.

aww Grif, choosing to stay of his own volition

So they're retconing Private Jimmy again? Church was in a robot for Blood Gulch?

Church gets a body again?

aww memories :) someone better draw fanart of Caboose, Grif, and Simmons and reminiscing around a campfire

Where is Carolina in all this?

I'm wondering if this is to bring Tex back instead of Church?

oof Simmons' robo arm

TEX???

Simmons badass moment

hey wait Simmons better not die

Car moment!

FUCK YES TEX

also is Wash just unconscious somewhere?

oh there he is

ooohhh he's calling Carolina with he beacon?

oh shit are we going to get a Tex and Carolina team up!

yeah Carolina!!!!!

wait Grif and Simmons don't know she's Allison's kid xD

mother daughter team up for the ages

you know, if Tucker was still conscious in there he would absolutely make a joke about getting double teamed by two badass ladies

You know, I don't think Tucker is surviving this

Oh fuck yeah Tex!

wait what how can she use the sword?

oohhh Tucker was still holding it

Theta baby boy :(

awww Tex and Church are finally together

now someone get Tucker to a hospital

I feel like the best plan would be destroying it- oh there it goes

oh Doc is totally a hallucination

oh Doc is dead :(

North??

oh it's all the Freelancers :(

Yeah I can definitely see that conversation between Wash and Carolina as either romantic or platonic, everyone wins there

is One from season 18? I don't recognize her

oh the shot of them on top of the base :(

Grif goes home... alone :(

aww the credits with everyone's faces. that last shot of the four of the OG RoosterTeeth crew:(((

I think that was a good end. I wish Wash would have actually talked to Tucker, and I'm sad we didn't see Donut and no canon grimmons but that was a long shot. I wish there was a bit more of Tucker as himself, but he's been the main character for a while so it was nice to focus on the others. the actual ending after the fight did feel a little rushed, I would have liked a bit more of Blue team recovering. also is it now just Simmons and Lopez vs Caboose, Tucker, Wash, and Carolina, or are the Freelancers going to leave?

I'm making a separate Grimmons post

All in all I liked it :) I think the most important thing was the everyone was in character. I know people are going to nitpick it and tear it apart, but it honestly could have been way worse.

Bow Chicka Bye Now

[felikatze]

Plusquam Chapter 7 director's commentary because i adore being a blabbermouth

hi hi hello. i am going to talk about my fic and nobody can stop me but i don't want to turn the ao3 author's notes into their own 30k novel so yelling on tumblr it is!!

if you are interested in SOME of the machenations of my enigmatic mind, feel free to read. If not. Well i don't care really it's your life. I'm writing this for MY enjoyment.

First of!! I dunno if I talked about them before!! (I have the memory of a goldfish). The silly codenames!!

As I may or may not have mentioned before, the inspiration for this came from the Project Thabes mod for Awakening. In the ferox duel, the mod replaces the generics with inigo, severa, owain, and gerome. The awakening trio get their fates names (a coward's move, but one i understand), but gerome is named michalis, which i just enjoy soooo much???

so when i initially planned out for all the future kids to band together with lucina, i decided they all had to have codenames! otherwise there's really no point in lucina having one....

merric for laurent was the biggest no brainer of all of them, with caeda for severa being a close second. feel free to interpret why. gerome was obviously taken from the thabes mod, and the rest were... a challenge... to come up with!

owain actually gave me a lot of trouble. what WOULD he name himself? i've not finished shadow dragon myself (I only played the prologue so far... haha...), and most i know of the cast comes from mitosis. and scarf's new mystery lunatic reverse run on youtube. and it was that run that reminded me. that kris's confect is an item in the game. meaning that awakening era people know kris exists. except wasn't kris' deal that they like. did not want to be noted down in history.

hence kris being a "heavily debated historical subject". which of COURSE owain would name himself after an unsung but vitally important hero of the shadows.

others i may discuss as they come up? eh, we'll see. not every future kid is gonna be important (god knows that's way too many characters for me to handle), but they will be There. main focus of course being the fp3 squad, with the addition of two others. it is very obvious who it will be, i think.

next up, pairings!

most pairings werent set, outside the ones that are my obvious favorites (panne/lonqu, henlivia, chrobin (duh)). others were up in the air and just happened as i wrote. as i thought about gerome in this, and chatted about the subject with friends, frederick/cherche came to be for this fic! (and for the shrek au, oddly enough. it may have just been on my mind, and i thought chrom missing freddie's wedding was funny.)

it suited my purposes best if gerome had a stronger emotional tie to the blueberry siblings, and a knightly duty to protect them served just that. hence the dialogue of lucina being his liege. he's so utterly disinterested in getting to know the people of the past that i needed that extra bit to keep him coherent. he won't get close to anyone, but he'll do anything to support lucina's aims as though they were his own.

which brings me to the next subject, lucina's PoV! This is the first perspective switch in all of plusquam (not just because I couldn't meet my 4k benchmark with morgan alone this time). Since Morgan and Lucina act separately and won't encounter often, I needed the extra time to establish her character here. To me, there's a clear dissonance between how Morgan views her and how Lucina is. Both of them are unreliable narrators to varying degrees, yet how they differ is where the meat is.

Like, for example, Morgan completely rejecting that Lucina is Robin's child as well, and not just Chrom's, because Grima told them Lucina was different. As compared to the actual Lucina still deeply affected by Robin, and even engaging with grimleal theology on an even field because of him and the other plegian influences in her life.

there's also the matter of her narration style. I waffled back and forth on whether to give her second person narration as well, but ultimately decided on third person limited, with a catch - she exclusively refers to everyone, including herself, by their codenames.

in both their perspectives, i want to create separation between their original names and who they act as. With morgan, this succeeds because the viewpoint has no need to mention their name whatsoever, and with lucina, it succeeds because she's the one creating that distance in her own mind. it's fun to play with!

ah, siblings. so different, yet so similar.

as for the pronouns situation on lucina's pov. well. schrödinger's transgender.

minor thing. i hate adapting canon scenes close to script, hence me just freestyling when lucina and co meet chrom and squad. there's also just... no future portal risen roaming about, which would've made the point moot anyway. that's a very interesting consequence to play with.

having an endless army of generic undead is lame. having to draw on the actual dead of the immediate area - now we're getting spicy!

despite everything, i have grown attached to the risen wyvern and its chittering ways, but it sadly has to go. there's a reason morgan never named it. farewell my sweet prince. aurgh. i mean. this thing has been with morgan through the entire past so far. and it just fell apart more and more over time. crashing into a wall and breaking its neck, having half its throat torn out - poor thing. good thing it can't feel pain anymore.

that is, i think, all i wanted to blabber about? if you're a reader of plusquam, hi, i love you, i hope you have a great day, you may summon me for one turn of battle without expending an action and i will appear as a shimmering blue specter to protect you from harm.

that's all!! see you next time!! as usual, if anyone has questions of their own, or wants to yell at me for hurting their feelings, shoot me an ask, a comment, or anything at all! see ya!! ily!!

[imlovedavestrider]

Mostly because I'm a Karkat role player and I really liked how accurate that dave breakdown was, could you do one for Karkle Sparkle?

0;B I gotchu

I’ll just make an “If You’re Writing Karkat” post

-Jesus Christ guys Karkat doesn’t cuss every sentence unless he’s super upset or frustrated chill out

-Going with that, Karkat uses really,,,,colorful language. Be creative lol. If you go back and reread some of his logs, there’s a lot of wild gems in there.

-Karkat is loud. Not because he’s always angry because he *ISN’T* he is NOT always angry!! He’s just passionate!

-Also going with that, a lot of the “anger” is a protective mechanism. Just like Dave, Karkat puts up a mask and persona for other people. It’s much more common knowledge now but yeah, Karkat has a mask he hides behind to protect himself and it’s become an ingrained part of him. At most, he’s usually just slightly annoyed with everyone.

-He cares about everyone. A LOT. All that frustration and anger? It’s there because he is genuinely really really concerned for everyone’s well being. He blames a lot of everything on himself, so he tries really hard to help and protect his friends because he figures they deserve it and since he’s doomed and terrible anyway, he may as well try to help them so that he has *some* good (though it definitely doesn’t help his self hatred)

-He literally grew up constant fear. He had to take care of his lusus and his lusus sure didn’t take great care of him. While this is a bit more because of troll society, we see plenty of lusi that help and care for the trolls. Where it’s a mutual relationship. Karkat had, essentially, a neglectful lusus. Combine that with the fact he had to meticulously hide himself at the risk of instant death, not even able to be himself to his friends, and you get a loooot of severe issues manifesting.

-I’m really sorry I would write more but a)it’s a lot harder for me to explain my thoughts about Karkat than it is for Dave and b)I keep zoning out and not focusing soo have this for now. One day I’ll try to make a better one

[miseries-mistress]

WITH YOU HERE | OBI-WAN KENOBI

Synopsis: Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong, and in order not to break under the pressure of your failure, you have resorted to the only thing you know can bring you temporary release, alcohol. 

Warnings: female reader, alcohol abuse, throwing up, lots of throw up, the reader is drunk, fluff, comfort, bad writing, like not my best writing at all but oh well, mild addiction?, slight angst, W/C: 1235

Notes: this week's updates will be shorter because that's all the ideas i had. I am working on part 2 of A Love That Can Never Be Tainted, but the last one took me an entire month to do, so don't expect it any time soon. i'll try to do longer work but for now, bear with me, please

star wars masterlist

You were barely awake, the room spinning too much for you to form a coherent thought. Your hands clenched the seat as Obi-Wan held your hair while you leaned over the toilet bowl. His touch was gentle, his hands roaming over the small of your back. If you weren't as intoxicated as you were, you could sense his growing concern mixed with the melancholy he didn't try to quell. He was beyond worried for you, having just found you five minutes ago practically passed out with bottles littering the floor. He had tried to coax an answer from you as to what happened, and from your half-strewn-together sentences, he got the gist. But as he was about to escort you to bed, you stumbled into the bathroom, and it only took him a second to get the idea, following you in and sweeping your hair from your shoulders. 

You gagged, releasing the pure alcohol in your stomach. Obi-Wan focused on your back as more vomit fell into the toilet. 

"Shhh shh, it'd be okay, my dear. I'm right here, shh," he cooed as he felt your disgust and anxiety spike. He hated seeing you drink because you only did it when you couldn't navigate your tangled emotions. You would shut down and turn to the bottle instead of him. Over time he had gotten used to it, but he never grew accustomed to the heartache of you feeling like you were unable to talk to him. He knew it was the byproduct of years of swallowing your emotions, but it didn't put his concerned mind at ease. 

He pushed those thoughts aside. That was far from what he ought to be focusing on. Instead, his attention needed to be on you and your well-being as your ghastly eyes and sunken expression indicated that you weren't as fine as you claimed to be when he first found you.  

His words laced with empathy passed through your ears, and you barely registered them, more focused on the smell of alcohol and the fiery throb in your throat. The burn raced up your throat again, and more vomit spilled into the toilet. Then, finally, you closed your eyes, the pounding in your head becoming too much.  

"You're doing so well, my love, that's it, shhh," he gently coaxed you from your frazzled state of mind into something akin to peace. His hand danced over your spine, where he let it create patterns. With so much stimulant, you found it difficult to believe that you could even focus on the man beside you for a moment. Instead, you fell back from the toilet, your back smacking against the tub behind you, black spots somersaulting over the white overhead light. The pounding behind your eyes was relentless, keeping the room rotating in waves or circles, a pattern you couldn't predict. 

"Hey, let's get you to bed, my sweet, c'mon, atta girl. You're doing so well," Obi-Wan encouraged you as he held your arm. Your head lulled to the side. Funny feeling. 

Obi-Wan sighed, his golden-red hair disheveled as his arms snaked around your waist and the back of your head, and in one swift motion, you were airborne, or more accurately, lifted. You giggled loudly at your weightlessness, a lopsided grin falling from your stained lips. 

Your head jostled with every step, adding to your dizziness and increasing it by tenfold while your arms flapped uselessly by your side as Obi-Wan, a pillar of strength, gracefully carried you to your bed. 

He set you down on the mattress, and you rolled in circles, giddy with an emotion he couldn't quite place. Your carefree smile filled him with a slight sense of joy. He hadn't seen that look in a while, genuine happiness, and it touched his heart with such a force that his chest fluttered. Seeing you so happy brought a smile to his face, despite the circumstances. 

Obi-Wan pushed back the hair that fell into your eyes as you giggled, pressing a sloppy kiss to his hand. He grinned at the gesture as he sat down on the corner, stroking your hair. His right hand was next to the outside of your hip, keeping you from moving around while he attempted to get you to relax.  

"You need to get some sleep, my love." His hand traced the outline of your face, his touches so feather light it felt like a dream. 

"No," you defiantly pouted, descending into a fit of giggles. Usually, Obi-Wan would never think of using the force on you, no less to influence something, but he knew the longer you stayed up, the worse the hangover would be in the morning. So you watched him with half-lidded eyes, squirming on the bed as Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered shut.  

He waved his hand in one fluid motion over your head, focusing the force on easing you to an unconscious state of mine. You slumped on the bed a moment later, soft snores emitting from your carefully parted lips. Obi-Wan leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He hated to see you so upset, especially when there was nothing he could do to change it. His first desire was to help you, but you shut him out, and hours later, he found you a sloppy mess on the floor, practically dumping yourself in contraband you got a hold of. All he wanted was for you to be okay, and now you obviously weren't, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help. As much as it tortured him, he would talk to you in the morning, and hopefully, then, things will be set straight. 

His lips left your forehead, and he pushed back the tangles of hair; his. You were his, and although it was something he cherished more than anything, the word felt foreign on his tongue. Obi-Wan wasn't used to the responsibility that came with being yours, something that he would adapt to better accommodate your needs. He would learn how to better care for you as time went on, but now he was stuck learning how to assist you. The self-placed responsibility of caring for you proved to be a more intricate task than he initially imagined. 

He stripped from his attire, his eyes softening as they landed on your sleeping figure. Settling into bed, Obi-Wan made himself comfortable, his head furrowing into the crook of your neck, his arms enveloping your waist. His beard scratched the place where your neck met your shoulder as he caressed your skin with a final kiss for the night. 

"Goodnight, my dear."

[aftqrglow]

A Blessing, Beautiful And True

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns; swearing if you squint; mentions of death; mentions of food

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i absolutely hated with my entire being. i hate this a little bit less djaksjsjs also pls ignore how i literally cannot write a good ending to save my life.

dedicated to @xsamsharons for lending me her name. i hope i did it justice mi amor ily <3

Bucky learnt to value things.

Not the great, terribly material things people around him seemed to rush after. Not money, not even when he was barely getting by.

No, for Bucky, it was the small, seemingly insignificant things.

The tiny toy WWII soldier figurine he found at a yard sale one Tuesday afternoon, the one with the missing arm. The near-exact model of the car his father used to drive—rusted around the tiny steel axel, the rubber wheels worn from use. That yellow screwdriver set that sat at the very back of the tool cabinet in the garage, unusable because of the cracked plastic handles and rusted steel, that looked exactly like the kit he had once used to fix up the plumbing in his first apartment.

Bucky was used to valuing the broken little things.

He never truly understood what loving something whole, something complete felt like—not until he met you.

You, in your white sweater and blue jeans, hair tossed up in a braid. You, your eyes that dancing with unbroken light, like the rays of the sun on the ocean on a bright summer’s day. You, with the sort of kindness he never truly thought he would ever be worthy of, not until you showed him that he was.

You, the girl he fell in love with before he could ever truly know what love was.

Steve might’ve been the first to notice. He was with him that day, the day he first saw you. They had been hunting for a Christmas present for Tony, and even though Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to attend, he wasn’t about to show up empty handed.  

Steve didn’t even realize that the sly-footed assassin wasn’t by his side until he had walked the two blocks from the mall to his car. Hands ghosting over the gun tucked into the holster hooked into his waistband, Steve retraced his steps, his heart thundering in his throat.

Until he heard Bucky’s laugh.

Not the obviously fake chuckles he used to placate those around him. No, this was the laugh he remembered, the laugh he thought Bucky had lost.

This was Bucky’s laugh—his Bucky’s laugh, before the world stole him away. Pure and innocent.

Happy—so undeniably, inexplicably happy.

The tension eased from his shoulders when he saw you. Steve knew who you were, of course. Everyone did—or at least, everyone who had been around after the Battle of New York. Everyone who had seen you walk among the rubble, bleeding through your jeans, helping dig survivors out of the rubble, guiding them to shelters. Everyone who had seen you do everything you could help those who needed it more than you did, until your legs finally gave way and the only reason you didn’t collapse to the floor was because Steve caught you.

But Steve also happened to know why you’d done it. Because you were kind. Because you were selfless. Because you knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved, and to garner the strength to build yourself up anyway.

You’d lost people too—everyone you loved, killed during the Battle. Your family. Your friends. It might’ve seemed cruel to be spared. Might’ve seemed like a cold, dark twist of fate—and for a time, it did.

Steve had never known anyone to be resilient the way you were.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, as he watched his friend from through the glass, maybe you would teach him to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope too.

—

Bucky didn’t even like books.

The only book he’d read—aside from the coursework assigned to him in his school days—was The Hobbit. And even that had taken him an ungodly amount of time to finish.

So yeah, Bucky didn’t exactly like books.

But he still visited the tiny bookstore on the corner every day.

He didn’t even buy anything. He just looked around, running his fingertips over the spines of the books that jutted out of the wooden shelves, the sunlight turning his eyes into uncharted waters of the oceans, swimming with undiscovered secrets and untold lies.

You would talk to him. All the time, and with no trace of the usual pity or sympathy that he heard when he spoke to people. You talked to him in a way that made him feel like himself, in a way that made him feel like he just might rediscover the man he used to be.

That first time he’d seen you was burned into the back of his brain, the image of you standing there with a hip braced against a bookshelf, dressed in a white sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a braid over your shoulder. He had watched as a strand escaped, falling into your face.

And him—he'd stood there, watching you talk to another woman he couldn't recall because really, how could he look at anything else but you? Bucky was certain he looked like a gaping idiot, both wanting your attention to turn to him, and dreading the fact that he would surely make a fool of himself if you so much as looked at him.

Back in the 40s, things would've been so much easier. He would already have said something witty to make you laugh, he would already have been telling you about the carnival down at the beach and asking if you wanted to go with him.

But when your friend left, and you asked him if there was anything you could help him with, his voice sounded strange to his own ears as he croaked, "Books?"

You had laughed—and he found himself laughing along. A true laugh—for the first time in a long time, the sound didn’t sound fake to his own ears. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.

Bucky had taught himself to value that which wasn’t whole—because he wasn’t, either. Love was give and take. Love was equal.

If he was to deserve your love, he would have to be whole again. If he was to deserve your love, he would make himself whole again.

—

There was a sudden shift in the way Bucky viewed the world.

It had been three days since he last saw you, but he walked in through those doors anyway. He had no cause, no reason—he just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.

You were sitting by the bay window at the very back, reading a book. He took a second just to take you in, to get used to the fact that you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

The second you looked up, your face split into a grin, like you were truly, genuinely happy to see him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had smiled at him that way. “Hey, you’re back! It’s Bucky, right?”

He nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak, not when he was sure he would stumble over his words, not when he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent sentence in your presence. 

"What can I help you with today?" you asked, snapping your book shut and placing it on the table. 

"Uh... What're you reading?"

You glanced down at your book before looking up to meet his eyes again. Blue, you thought, supressing a smile. Icy blue, but warm nonetheless—familiar in the way most things aren’t. "Wuthering Heights. You've never read it?"

He shook his head no. "Never been much of a reader, no. Is it any good?"

"It's one of my favourites," was your answer, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The light caught the steel of the chain around his neck—the chain of one of those military-issue dog tags.

And maybe that was how it started—on that dreary cold Wednesday, when you'd stood next to the bookshelf by the window, telling him about your favourite book, but really all he could focus on was the late afternoon sun rendering the hue of your eyes several shades lighter, the soft slope of your nose, the fullness of your mouth. Every little detail about you was etched permanently into his mind—and he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about you. 

It was about closing time when he decided he had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he had promised he would have dinner with Sam and Steve. And as much as Bucky wanted to stay, he was a man of his word.

Which is why when he promised you he would come see you as soon as he finished reading the book, you knew he meant it.

—

And you were right.

Two days later, he was back. 

It was raining that day, early in the morning when you were just about to open up. And there, standing under the awning in the freezing rain, was Bucky, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind, drenched to the bone.

"What're you doing here?" you asked, eyes wide.

"I just... I don't know," he said. Because he didn't. Bucky didn't even like books—but he did like being around you. There was a strange sort of calm about you, a sense of peace he'd only known in Wakanda. Around you, he was just Bucky—not Sargent Barnes, not the Winter Soldier—just Bucky. 

He liked being just Bucky.

You shook your head, but he could've sworn he saw the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. "Well, come on inside. I'll turn up the heat and get you something warm to drink. Christ, Buck, you could get pneumonia or something.”

He only nodded once. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get sick—not when the serum in his veins healed his body faster than normal. It didn’t matter that even if he could sick, he wouldn’t have cared, not when you were looking at him like that, with concern in your eyes for something other than your own safety.

You had a coffee machine in the back room, you told him. He followed you, lingering in the doorway as you bustled about, humming a tune under your breath. He recognized it as a song from that one Marvin Gaye album Sam couldn’t stop talking about. He recognized it as a song he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life, if only you were the one singing it.

He recognized that, for better or for worse, you would be his undoing.

—

After that, he came to see you every day.

When the weather got colder still, he brought you steaming cups of hot chocolate from your friend Bella’s café down the street. And on the days when he didn’t, he would head into the back room and make you coffee. You’d never had to tell him how you took it—after that in the rain, he’d somehow remembered what you liked.

You weren’t about to tell him, but you remembered what he liked too.

It started out simple—plum cider that you found on your weekly trip to the farmer’s market. An old vintage copy of The Hobbit from the forties. Rubber silencers for his dog tags that he never used but carried around in his pocket anyway—until eventually, you had something new for him every week, some insignificant thing that he looked at with the kind of childlike awe that made your heart twist into knots in your chest.

He walked you home too. Every evening, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, slowing his stride so that he could walk alongside you. He would stand outside, across the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to walk into the apartment you shared with Bella. Only leaving when the lights came on and he knew you were safe.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker—you learnt that about him. He would spend all day sitting quietly in a corner of your store, reading one of the books he found on the shelf of used copies you kept in the back of the room.

He seemed to love those used books more than the new ones—books someone had already read, books that had already been loved.

He felt a little that way sometimes, too. A little too used for love, not loved enough for use.

But never when he was with you.

And you—you were falling for Bucky Barnes. A little by little, day by day, without even realizing it—not until it all came rushing to you one afternoon, like a dam breaking, like the ocean of his eyes pulling you under, especially when you felt his gaze on you from time to time, watching you as you worked.

That afternoon, a new shipment of books came in. You didn’t even have to ask him for help—he was already on his feet, snapping his copy of Anna Karenina shut, mumbling a soft, “I’ve got it,” as you signed for the order. Hefted the two cartons of books like they weighed nothing at all, and carried them inside.

There was a strange tightness in your stomach as you watched him, standing in the middle of your store—the only thing the Battle of New York hadn’t taken away from you—and you wondered just how it took so damn long to realize that the feeling of familiarity didn’t lie among these books, but rather, in Bucky himself.

—

It was a slow day, so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon restocking the shelves. He asked you about each of the books, watching your eyes light up as you talked about your favourite ones, until conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of you basking in each other’s company as you worked.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed until you heard the door open and your friend Bella breezed in. She'd been here the first day Bucky had walked in, had noticed the way your eyes shifted to him mid-conversation like you couldn’t focus on much else when he was around. “Ready for lunch, y/n?”

You looked at Bucky, opening your mouth to ask if he wanted to come along. Not because you didn’t trust him to be alone at the store, but because you wanted his company. Because being around him felt like coming home.

He only waved you off. "Go ahead. I've got plans with Stevie. I'll be here when you're back though."

You believed him. You believed that he would always be around, for as long as you wanted. And you wanted forever.

"Was that the guy from before?" Bella asked, looping an arm through yours as you left the store, walking down the street. She brushed her fiery hair out of her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you, yellow-green eyes filled with curiosity. “What’s his name?”

"Bucky. He... He's a friend," you said. 

"Well," Bella said. "He sure doesn't feel the same way."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Y/n, he looks at you like you put the stars in his sky. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

"I... I don't know, Bella."

Because you didn't know what else to call him. Because you and him weren't friends in the way people usually are—you had always been more.

Bucky was always more.

—

"I've barely seen you," Steve said, picking up his can of Diet Pepsi and taking a sip. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Bucky mumbled. Because how could he explain why he was spending so much time at the bookstore with someone he'd only just met? How could he explain the magnetic pull he felt toward you, the inexplicable desire to just be around you?

How could he explain the way you made him feel like himself again?

But Steve knew. Steve always knew. He saw the growing stack of novels on his friend's bedside table, saw him reading at the kitchen table, book propped up against the jug of milk.

He also knew that all this was because of y/n. Because Bucky mumbled that name when he was too exhausted to even know what he was saying. Because Bucky talked in his sleep—and Steve could hear him calling that name through the thin walls that separated their rooms. "You've been at the bookstore?"

Bucky set his drink down. There was so use denying it—his friend would see right through him. Steve had known him for too damn long to believe in his lies. "She's so... I can't even put it into words. She makes me believe that there's good in this world. That all the things I did wrong don't even matter—not when I'm with her. It’s the way she looks at things, the way she’s capable of finding a little bit of good in everything. Like she found something good in me, Steve."

Steve knew it was true. Because he hadn’t seen Bucky this way for a very long time. Because he hadn’t seen that light in his friend’s eyes in a very long time, and ever since he met you, it hadn’t gone away.

—

Bucky had to leave for a couple of days.

He didn't tell you why—just that it was a work thing. How long would he be gone? He didn't know.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "I promise."

And he was. Five days later.

But Bucky was quiet—quieter than usual. 

It was a Sunday, and you’d somehow managed to drag him along to the farmer’s market with you. He walked alongside you, hands in his pockets, like he was aching to reach out and touch you but desperately holding himself back.

He’d almost gotten himself killed on that mission.

You took up too many thoughts in his head, too much space in his heart. And when the bullet narrowly missed him, grazing his ribs, his only thought was whether or not you’d miss him if he was gone.

You deserved better than someone who’s life was tied to the death of others. Someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.

A few paces ahead of you, Bella walked hand-in-hand with Bucky’s friend Sam. You were glad that Bucky had introduced them, glad that Sam made Bella happy in ways you’d never really known or understood before.

“Look at them,” you said, watching with a smile on your face as Sam quietly slipped a couple of oranges into Bella’s bag. “They look real happy.”

Then, turning to look at him, you smiled, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Because you might deserve better, but he was selfish and stubborn, and the only thing he had wanted in so goddamn long was you you you.

“Go out with me,” he blurted, every thread of self-control he had so carefully cultivated to keep his head in your presence snapping. He felt like he was taken back to that December evening he saw you for the first time, when the words refused to leave his mouth, when you’d rendered him tongue-tied and helpless. Only this time, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, not as he said, “One date, y/n. One date, and if you don’t have a good time, we can just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His heart shuttered when he saw the small frown creasing your brow, your voice soft as you asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to do this for the rest of my life with you, y/n,” he said quietly. “But for now, I’ll take that date.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll go out with you.”

He couldn’t help it. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you to him, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around until you were both laughing, childlike and breathless, blissfully unconscious of the knowing look on Sam and Bella’s faces.

Because really, how could he see anything but you? You had been it from the first day he saw, and you were it now—a blessing, beautiful and true.

tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @ughlantsov @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons

if you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

[viscountessevie]

What are your thoughts on the Charithra issue?

Sorry this is late anons I got sleepy halfway through and wasn't typing coherently and went down for a nap first to recharge. I AM PISSED TO WAKE UP AND FIND OUT SHE DEACTIVATED.

Moving to answering these I got another ask about this so I'll answer these two together. (will put the screenshot of the second anon below when answering that qn)

Note: that this is the last time I am going to talk about this cos everything that needs to be said has been said and she has officially deactivated so now we should all chill out with our over the top opinions and just focus on positive fandom content please.

[This got long so my response is under the cut:]

Sorry to the first anon but why was that phrased like a Presidential Debate question? 😂 Yall this is just fandom drama and toxicity not a national issue.

That being said, my heart breaks for her, it should have NEVER gotten to a point where she felt like the negativity was weighing on her so much she had to block out everyone to create a safe space for herself. And before everyone brings their arguments to my ask box, let me counter all the ones I've seen my friends and other fellow bloggers deal with:

1) "I didn't even say anything to her or send hate, why did she block me?!"

Someone mentioned that she might have used a mass blocker and I looked up what it is and basically you can read more in depth about it here. From my understanding its an AI that helps you block people using keywords so I imagine Charithra put in a couple of keywords and it somehow got linked to all the accounts that interacted with the 'hate'/critical tweets and thus blocking all of them. TDLR: Shitty AI probably blocked you for her by accident.

2) "She needs to grow thicker skin for this industry."

You can have a thick skin as an actor and still hit your limit. Why does everyone expect WOC to always expect to sit back, be strong and just take it? I'm kind of sick of this perception of us to be honest. "Ohmygod you're so strong!" Like yes but we can also be soft and have feelings like all human beings. We are all multifaceted people too. Also consider that it wasn't just the posters but comments from since the EW article dropped that have just been piling up and directed at her til now and I think she just hit a point where she couldn't take it anymore.

3) "She's being immature and unprofessional"

Let me ask those anons and people who feel this way, are you her boss? Are you her parent/friend/loved one? No, right? So she doesn't owe any of us shit! She is not being immature or unprofessional - again like I said those who haven't done anything wrong, it was probably a mistake by the AI - but the initial choice itself to block the haters WAS NOT immature or unprofessional of her. She has every right to curate what she wants to see on her feed.

4) "She should have just taken a breather from Twitter instead of going ham on the block button!"

I wasn't even going to dignify this with a counter but given that she had deactivated, yall happy? Sis took a permanent breather. As she should after what she dealt with since the EW press drop - I can't believe she was getting hate for that - twitter people can be SO VILE.

***

So those were my main thoughts on the matter. As for this second anon, thank you for your ask and to respond to it:

I want to make it clear that I do NOT blame anyone for how are they are feeling. I do not blame Charithra at all for feeling upset and negative over the posters reactions and comments coming to a head. I do not blame the fans for feeling upset about being blocked. However I do side eye the upset fans for blowing this out proportion. Yes, its frustrating not knowing why you were blocked but she immediately realised what happened and she started unblocking people and apologised (there was another thread like this where she explicitly unblocked and apologised but the tweets have been deleted with her acc and no one got a screenshot of that interaction I don't think.)

[Picture Courtesy of @peterbubblebuttparker ]

She was so sweet about it too - I don't understand why everyone started freaking out about this. We should have left it be after Charithra cleared it up with the fans and let it be instead of screaming that she blocked you.

Side-eyeing aside, the full blame falls squarely on marketing and CVD's shoulders. A lot of people have been letting CVD off the hook about marketing because they say he's not involved - then how do yall think the marketing team knows what to promote?? It's all based on his storylines and character priorities this season!

@ People who know more about advertising and marketing correct me if I'm wrong but don't creators usually sit with marketing for an initial meeting to cover the basics of what they are promoting, who they are promoting and how they are promoting it? I'm not saying he orchestrated every little thing but mans definitely had some influence over it.

And you're right anon none of this is helping Charithra at all and I hate it so much because this was my biggest fear with a love traingle that the toxic side of the fandom would pit the sisters against each other but it's so much worse cos it's mainly directed at Charithra - the actress herself instead of the character (not saying either is good but directly going afted Charithra is messed up)

It's so fucked up but I really hope deactivating has given her a sense of peace and she can enjoy herself and be excited with her friends and family for the season.

I've said my piece and if any of you guys actually read this and made it this far thank you for reading and that's all I'll be engaging on this matter. I'll be focusing on writing fics and making content for the fandom leading up to the 25th and trying not to engage in future drama.

[mooniefics]

— a life in your shape

pairing : jean kirschtein / reader

word count : 2.5k

tags : unrequited love, pining, near death experience, confession of love, hurt no comfort lol

warnings : canon-typical violence, descriptions of injury to the reader

summary : you've always wanted it, always pictured it, always ached for it. you loved when jean looked you way. all you'd ever wanted was a life with him, not just a life in his shape.

— originally posted 1 / 22 / 21 on ao3 —

the mess hall was buzzing with life, rowdy with the chatter of dozens of cadets seated at long tables and speaking through swallows of their food. glasses were lifted and set down, bowls and plates clinking, utensils scraping sharply over various surfaces, nearly so loud that you could barely hear yourself think. but it all seemed to come to an abrupt silence when you settled your eyes back on him, taking in his formerly pale complexion now bronzy and sun-kissed from your hours of training, the annoyed yet playful glances he shot to connie and sasha as he worked through his soup and bread, full lips forming words that you couldn’t quite focus.

you were almost embarrassed of how smitten you were with jean, but in your mind, you couldn't understand how anyone wouldn't be taken with him. his thin frame had filled out with lean muscle in the year and a half that you'd been training together in the 104th corp, somehow managing to grow even taller than he already was on that first day, still so spirited with his persistence to be among the best of this class, a lively spark that never seemed to dampen gleaming behind his eyes.

"oh god, this again, jean?" you heard connie bemoan exaggeratedly, pulling you from the trance that you were surprised the other three at the table hadn't taken notice of.

jean was almost pouting now, and you would've found it so endearing had it not been the next words to spill from his mouth, indignant and full of tenacity. "don't be an ass, i've been trying to figure out a good excuse to sit with her for days now."

you followed his gaze despite knowing exactly who you'd find his eyes locked on, and forced yourself not to frown when you were met with the sight of mikasa just a few tables away.

"she's out of your league, man. not to mention having a thing for jaeger already, and not to mention that jaeger wouldn't hesitate to hand your ass to you again if you pissed him off like you always do. cut it out."

"connie, that's mean!" sasha feigned offense on jean's behalf, most likely for the sake of goading the reply that came as a distraction to snatch the remainder of bread from his plate.

"i'm just being honest with him here. he's asking for advice, so i gave him some. jean always talks about being realist and yet he— hey is that my food?!"

you turned away just as connie was lunging himself across the table, hearing the sounds of his fruitless efforts to tear the loaf from the girl's mouth, propping yourself up on your elbows and allowing your head to fall into your hands with a heavy sigh.

"what do you think?" in an instant, jean's eyes were on you, amber irises looking so intently at you that you could already feel a bothersome heat flushing your face. but registering his question sobered you, and stealing a glance at the beautiful dark-haired girl seated somewhere to your left was all in took to snuff out the light flutter in your chest.

"i don't know, jean. i think connie's kind of right about the whole eren thing." you were honest with him on a surface level, but it still didn't feel good to see him frown when you told him something he obviously didn't want to hear. you tried to remedy it by offering something more introspective—something a bit more true to your heart. "what i mean is that.. i think you're selling yourself short. mikasa obviously has her sights set elsewhere at the moment, and i just think you deserve someone who can bring the same sort of.." you struggled with your words for a moment, how could you not when he was leaning forward like that, listening so intently to you and you alone. "the same sort of passion. someone who can reciprocate." someone like me. but you bit those foolish words back.

"you understand, don't you?" he implored, looking past the bickering mess that sasha and connie had devolved to and gazing with such longing in the other girl's direction, "i mean.. i've never seen anyone like her, no one as beautiful.." each word gouged at your heart, a cold, empty sensation that left your chest feeling painfully hollow. "i know you're a girl, but you can see it too, right?"

you could see it, you were painfully aware of how you could never match up to her unfamiliar yet alluring features, that graceful, slender frame that could somehow soar through the air with ease and still thrown you down onto your back so hard it would knock the wind out of you, introversion that gave off such a charming air of mystery to her admirers.

"yeah," you mumbled back, ignoring how a huffing connie fell heavily back into his seat beside jean, defeated, sasha happily gulping down her unfairly earned chunk of bread, only taking notice of how jean was too fixated on mikasa to pay your dismay any mind, "i see it alright."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the air was thick with an unrelenting heat, stinking of steam and coppery with fresh blood, your vision fading in and out. your head was ringing with a deafening, high pitched peal and such an unbearable, crippling pain. you could feel your boots dragging across the hot dry dirt as something tugged you back by the collar of your shirt, and the terror of a titan with its misshaped limbs and mouth hauling you to your demise made you thrash aimlessly, screams for help spilling out as a disjointed groan of pain. and though it almost sounded as if you were underwater, sinking further and further beneath the lapping waves of your impending unconscious, you heard it, muffled, desperate, thick with tears, your name spilling from his lips.

and suddenly you remembered, you remembered the kidnapping and the unfaithful comrades and the mission to save humanity's last hope, your former friend now an almost unrecognizable abomination with ymir, bertholdt, and eren sitting atop his shoulders, clasped in his monstrous hands, that had now resorted to flinging titans in his primal desperation for escape. and as you blinked away the spots blacking out your vision, head lolling uselessly to the side, you could see your horse, half crushed in a puddle of red on the yellow grass, and realized that the warmth streaming down the side of your face is your own blood.

"jean..?" you mumbled, uselessly, barely coherent, but the near sob of relief from behind you is like an anchor back to reality.

you could see his calves on either side of you, feet kicking up clouds of dust as he pushed you both back, further from the fray and carnage, as far as he could muster. one of your blade scabbards was missing, you could feel that the clip on your gas tank had snapped off in your spectacular fall caused by the titan that was flung down in your path, irreparable damage most likely made to the fine mechanisms within the housing of your gear. you felt utterly hopeless, watching as the shade of a tree just barely shielded you from the blazing light of the sinking sun, hearing jean's gasping pants from behind you, feeling how rapidly his chest was rising and falling against the back of your head as you slumped into his body, leaden limbs weighing you down uselessly.

"jean." you wheezed, trying desperately to crane your heavy head back to meet his eyes one last time, eyes that no longer harbored the naive passion of youth but still gleamed so radiantly, "leave me.. here. you're g'nna— gonna die.. if you stay..."

you could feel his violent trembles now, feel him rip his green cloak from his shoulder to press against the throbbing wound on your head. "no. i-i'm staying. i n-n-need," he was scared, you knew he was terrified of allowing what happened to marco to happen to you, or sasha, or connie, or anybody, even if the boy's death was nowhere near his fault, "i need to s-save you."

but you could also feel something else—feel it coming—the terrible, earth trembling footfalls of a titan making a shambling, uncoordinated advance to you and the scent of your blood. and suddenly jean was screaming, a sound so raw and petrified that you couldn't help but cry yourself at the sound of it. he laid you down on the ground, bunched cloak pillowing your bleeding skull, unable to push himself to his feet but still drawing his last blade to swing at the thing coming to kill you both, covering your battered body with his own.

and in that moment, you hated yourself. though your head was swimming and your lucidity was waning, you knew that you would both die there, under the baking sun and in the jaws of a titan, and it would be your fault. every regret that you'd ever harbored flooded your mind: not hugging your mother long enough when you still had the chance, not drinking that liquor when squad leader hange had offered it to you, and, most of all, never having the bravery to be honest with jean.

and you mourned all that lost time in those final moments, every late night you'd spent as trainees under the stars when you and your friends would sneak out of the dormitories to talk at some ungodly hour, every shared meal where you didn't speak nearly enough to him, every second of the crushing embraces you'd offered each other when the thought of your fallen friends caught up to you and proved to be far too much to handle on your own. how could you have done so much yet so little with your life?

and just as the titan was stumbling upon you, jean's scream of terror dampening out into a faithless cry, the thing was gone, galloping away to join a newly assembled horde descending upon one single point on the plain. but somehow, you felt no relief, not as you reached out a weak, trembled hand to grasp the blood and dirt streaked fabric of his shirt.

and as he turned to you, eyes still wide and body shaking with horror, thrumming with the adrenaline of near-death, you whispered, hoarse and tired as your grasp on the world slipped away. "i love you, jean. i love you."

your eyes fell shut, the involuntary spiral down further and further into the deep waters of unconsciousness pulling you in deeper and deeper by the second. you were grateful that you at least got to say something meaningful as your last words.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

there was a bright light, delicate, billowing fabric flouncing about in your bleary gaze as your eyes barely opened, something wrapped tight around your head, not making the pressure of the pounding headache any better. you couldn't fight the groan that even the small movement of turning onto your back caused, but you tried to force your lids open just an inch more at the sound of a gasp coming from somewhere in the room.

there were fast footsteps, a few shouts of "sasha, no!" and then a crushing weight on your chest, squeezing around you, pulling you up in bed as a tearful sob of your name came from a comfortingly familiar voice.

"sasha. please. h-hurts." you barely managed to croak out, feeling yourself been torn free—or rather, her  torn away—as connie yelled.

"get off them, you moron, they're fucking injured!!"

"i'm s-s-sorry!" she wailed, allowing herself to be dragged to the door by the disgruntled boy, "i'm j-just so happy you're s-s-still alive!!!"

"and i am too, but that doesn't mean i'm gonna go throw myself on top of them while they're in the hospital!"

their bickering was almost comforting in a way, allowing the strain in your chest from sasha's hug to ease as you watched them elbow each other in the sides on their way out of the room to take their loudness out into the hall, blowing raspberries and struggling to not laugh through their feigned anger. and finally your gaze was allowed to wander over to the furthest wall from your bed, and you saw jean, staring down at his shoes, brow furrowed and lip bitten. and he seemed almost startled to find yourself in his gaze, feet slowly taking him to your side.

"i owe you my life, you know?" you said as he settled himself on the edge of the mattress, still not meeting your gaze.

"you don't owe me anything. you shouldn't feel in debt to me."

"but i do," you risked to settle your hand over his, finally drawing his worried, amber eyes onto yours, and you could feel your heart beginning to pick up, the butterflies that you had always forced to settle with a pessimistic thought to squash your optimism light in your chest, "i meant what i said before i passed out in the field. i always have."

and for just a moment, you thought that this was finally it, that you would no longer have to languish over wasted time and wasted words, fingers just barely curling around his warm palm. then, a knock at the door, light and delicate before the handle turned, pushing open to reveal mikasa.

and you caught every small movement of jean's features, the way his eyes sparked with a familiar light, the sudden, faint flush of color across his slender face, lips parting and just barely perking up at the ends. an endless, unwavering adoration.

"eren is awake, if you'd like to talk to him." that was all she had peeked in to say, but jean was still gazing at the door for a moment too long after she'd left.

"u-um.. if you don't mind—"

"go ahead." you told him, gently, pulling your hand away, retreating as far as your body could into the mattress, under the covers, turning your gaze away.

and though he'd slowly, almost nervously exited your room, you could hear the clear pick-up in his pace as soon as he'd shut the door behind him and exited into the hall, probably rushing to try and catch mikasa for a moment alone in the hallway before he had to share her attention with everyone else.

and it hurt, like a blade buried between your ribs, being jerked and twisted with every memory of his affinity, the one that was never directed at you despite how you craved it. and you'd realized that you had melded a life in his shape, a life where you were always just a few steps too far behind, hand outstretched, reaching for him as you hurried to grasp at any minuscule opportunity to be with him, speak to him, hear his laugh and see his near blinding smiles that never seemed to last long enough to you.

but, perhaps one day, someday farther into the future. and if not then, maybe in another life.

[serosgirl]

— presentation: FOCUS! ꒰ — jump starting my new blog with a composition i previously uploaded to my wattpad account, wrldhorror. here, requests for drabbles and headcanons are welcome! minors dni, but if you are of the age of consent guidelines apply (see here). ꒱

this a mature composition that contains descriptions of actions that are not appropriate for children who are not of age. there will be no further warning, so you must read at your own discretion.

✧˖*°࿐ focus ❛ just focus on me, keep your eyes on me ❜

warnings: nudity, smut, cockwarming, cunt slapping, 18+

various textbooks and paper-copy assignments were left unattended to and forgotten as [yn]'s conscious descended into a state of dream-like infatuation. coherent dialogue failed to part her kiss-swollen lips, pitiful whimpers slurring each syllable that fell from her glossed appendages. she struggled to assemble sensible thought as, presently, her levelheadedness began to plummet and accumulate in a fragmented pile of shambles.

"pay attention, or i'll make you." withdrawing the female from her state of stupefaction, a noticeably smooth baritone glissaded the goosed flesh of [yn]'s extremities while trailing the length of her spine and causing her to erect in abrupt attentiveness. the velvet tone of his octaves prompted the young lady to shudder, inducing her to further rut her hips against his own. their hips meet at a pace that could only be described as painstakingly sensual but still harsh enough to be interpreted as needful. a stifled moan prompted [yn] to toss her head before dropping it into the clothed shoulder of her lover.

kneading against [yn]'s viscid, pulsating heat was her boyfriend's sex, the length stretching the width of her cunt with a modest singe that caused her skin to set ablaze with a newfound coating of arousal, tears welling upon her waterline and threatening to depart the silken lashes that flittered until they began to blink at a pace of leisure, the strands sinking steadily. "you're not making this any easier for me." her complaint was exhaled as a soft whine, her glassy hues fluttering close with an implosive grind of her pelvis. [yn] pressed more weight into the grind of their bodies. "i'll be good for you, shoto. won't you pay attention to me?" lifting her head to meet todoroki's indifferent gaze, [yn] pouted at his nonchalance, prettily exhibiting her bottom lip as it jutted in perplexity.

weakly fisting bundles of his cotton tee in the palm of her hands, [yn] sighed a reply, stiffening on todoroki's lap as her silken parapet milked the male for all of his worth, aching for a method that would result in illimitable pleasure. reaching for euphoria, yearning for ferocious shock impulses that would render her limbs useless and turn her stature into putty, [yn] impatiently replied to one of shoto's former queries. "the answer is renunciation."

inspiration for a sadistic idea such as this method of study befell upon [yn]'s shoulders. specifically, she was to harbor the blame for her predicament as discovering the most beneficial technique of cramming a lecture before the designated date of an inescapable exam was a conversation commenced herself. shoto agreed to aiding her with such probe, even suggesting a method of his own. if she were to answer correctly, she'd be presented a reward for her troubles. unluckily, she had failed to do so numerous times.

"try again, princess." as determined beforehand, the punishment for any incorrect answer would ensue a brutal thrust of his hips, the motion never failing to swipe the flushed tip of his cock against a particular doughy spot of her insides, causing a honeyed moan of his name to escape her trembling lips. "come on. you're almost there, baby. two more questions and i'll make that pretty mouth of yours squeal in delight."

"it's polity," her answer was breathy and at a pitch no louder than a whisper. "i know it is." struggling to straddle his thighs, her own began to tremble in discomfort. she tentatively eased onto his lap, sinking herself into a position that allowed for her cervix to thumb against the rosy head that was sheathed between her legs. beginning to give into impulse and shove their hips together, [yn] shakily rolled her hips, hoping a subtle movement such as that would not be prominent enough to garner the attention of her admirer.

as if in disbelief, todoroki softly laughed at the girl in his arms. a condescending gaze fell upon her shoulders before dismissively peering at the papers that had fallen askew and were splayed upon a maple desktop. "it's as if you're purposefully getting these wrong," scoffing but with no intention of reprimanding her, he brought his lips to her ear and kissed rhetoric against her heated skin. delicately placing a kiss beneath the lobe of her ear, he descended upon the base of her neck. in response, she lulled her head until it rolled about, further allowing the male to mark her skin with deep colored blemishes. "should i punish you?" pausing his former traveling of love-spawned markings of adulation, he froze at the dip of her collar bone, sucking at the supple skin until it became an angry bruise.

shoto's lidded stare observed the withering figure of his girl. devouring her with a magnetic gape, his hues inundated, drinking in her flustered disposition until he could no longer prevent himself from swallowing her sobs of pleasure. a gentle brush of their lips transcended into a duel of hunger, each pulling the other in as if they were to disappear.

humming into the feral abundance of the rough brush of their lips, [yn] couldn't help but arch against her lover as the hand placed above her hip pulled her close. the movement caused for travel of her pelvis, further ramming her neglected cunt against the flushed rod that convulsed at the greedy clench of her plush walls.

at her sensual movement, todoroki's own hips bucked into her own, further stroking his cockhead against the surface of her gummy walls, causing his cock to twitch in anticipation. hissing, shoto's head momentarily fell before he brought his hands to [yn]'s hips and tightened his grasp on her ceaseless grind. "i told you to be still, did i not?"

"please," opposing the installment of todoroki's palms, [yn] continued to sink onto his length, sputtering a request that was near to dying out. "don't stop." leaning into his embrace, she pressed her temple against his own, low moans filling the space as she continued to generate friction between the heat of her legs. "just a little harder."

straining to prevent himself from giving into wild desire, the boy's attention fell to the bundled skirt that scrunched around the waist of his companion. his bi-colored hues followed the movement of her thighs as she rolled her hips. "look at you," shoto's fingers brush the underside of her chin, a few of his fingers cupping the base of her neck as to lift her head from his peripheral and bring it to his forefront visual. "grinding against everything. you're quite the needy thing, aren't you?" tilting her head as if examining a newfound discovery, shoto's cold stare devoured the sight of his flustered girlfriend, her desperate expression persuading him to ravish her until she could no longer recite his given name.

"what's another word for wise, baby?" his attention drooped from the dipped bridge of her nose and fell upon the curve of her lips as he questioned her in regards to the current subject of focus. her gape rounded at an involuntary twitch of her hips, barely comprehending a word that fell from his lips. almost unable to process any speech of interest, [yn]'s sight relied on intensively providing each mound a devoted gawk. a badgering ache numbed her rational thought, swallowing the sensible and only rational portion of her conscious in a sudden pit of longing.

"sagacious." sputtering the last of vocabulary, she huffed and willed herself to patiently sit on the quivering muscle that battered the cushion of her insides.

"atta girl," congratulating her for finishing her allotted assignment, todoroki shifted, edging his pelvis to where it eagerly shifted against her own. "that's a feat worthy of praise. how should i reward you?" choking todoroki's dick in awaited hope, her gummy walls fluttered and squeezed in excitement. "do you want to cum?" persistently nodding at his question, she batted her lashes, attempting to pull him closer by threading her fingers along the back of his head, brushing their lips together but leaving a distance that left them barely touching. todoroki's optics flickered to her nearing lips before settling a hard stare upon her own. "then, ask nicely. use your words like a good little girl."

"i'll be good for you. i promise." aware that her acclamation was not enough to satisfy the unconvinced male before her, she sucked up her own pride and snapped her gaze away from his own, watching glittering rays of light penetrate through the lace curtains of the occupied bedroom. "won't you ravish me?" protruding the mound of her bottom lip, a pout pulled at her cheeks as she unwillingly begged, playing into todoroki's undermining motives.

attentive to the nude colored appendages, the boy was unable to cease his withdrawn condition. mindlessly discerning the cupid's bow curve of her lips, todoroki compelled himself to descend deeper into his lengthening pit of limitless desire. his different colored optics followed the cute pucker of her mouth, aimlessly wondering the features of her expression until perceiving the endearingly shy look she bore. noticing the unfocused gape of her cowardice countenance, shoto's lips stretch across his cheeks, a slant to his smile as he lifts his brows in mischief. "you'll have to speak up if you want your request obliged." evident in his tone was a smug expression as his narrowed lids attempted to meet the eyes of his lover. though, his expression flattens when not even the pearl-like pitch of his tone acquires the attention of his girlfriend.

leaning forward to trail his knuckles across the goosing skin of her ribcage, the reddened pads of his fingertips work to dig the wool of her sweater in his hands and hike the cloth over her head. perking her breasts sat the cloth of a wired bra, the intricate lace cupping the hills while extra flesh nearly spilled from the confinement at the quick haste of todoroki's movement. her chest bounded as the hem of her shirt roughly glided against the fabric, the action causing the different textures to drift and brush against her breasts.

attaching his lips to her cleavage, todoroki made swift movements as to unclasp the black undergarment and place her back against the table that had formerly been occupied to responsibly study. the sudden rise of his seated position further pressed his cock into her cunt, the motion oozing slick that dripped from the origin of penetration onto the desk. the change deliciously stroked her walls, a squeak parting her lips as she clasped onto his shoulders.

disregarding the copy of papers, the fiery skin of the young lady now dominated the area. [yn]'s elbows propped her against the wood as she questionably observed the change of position. [ec] orbs analyzed the male who lowered over her figure, prompting her to relax as he cupped the back of her knees to lock her hips in place, using his grip to pin her knees to her chest as he captured a squeamish moan with his mouth.

"disobedient, aren't you?" not specifically searching for a response, he continued, "make sure you behave for me, princess. if you make a sound, i'll edge you until you're crying for relief," terminating further debate, an abrupt snap of his hips initiated copious muffled moans, the girl cupping her mouth to prevent squeals of rapture from growing consequently clamorous. "lie there and give me a pretty show, okay?" gripping a hip as to control the force of his rapid assault, shoto began to pummel her walls with ruthless vigor, the table used for leverage creaking beneath them.

scuttering as to escape the brutal snapping of his waist, [yn] arched against the flat surface of the table, heels searching for something to ground into. such expedition was futile as her toes curled into the air, her legs dwindling and hooking around her lover. the extended extremities tensed at the deliberately vicious thrust of his hips. he wanted her to violate his rule! the pace he began with was causing the task of remaining silent impossible when the quick jerks of his hips allow him to reach depths that cause [yn]'s optics to roll to the back of her head.

the fingers coiled around her mouth begin to weaken, the palm of her hand slipping from her face and instead gripping todoroki's forearm for the gain of proper leverage. the next pound rammed into her withering heat plunged against the velvet insides of her sex, the pink head of his cock driving into a doughy area that had her toes curling tighter than before, and an inaudible, choked wail that reverberated within the confines of her throat was soon swallowed with a gulp of air. quick to stifle further wanton sound, she clamped her lips together, pitiful whimpers restrained in the insides of her mouth as if she were some animal confined against its will.

continuously drilling against that particular spot, todoroki upheld his ridiculous pace. [yn] screwed her eyes shut and tensed her jaw as to silence an incoming scream. promptly, the glassy hue of her orbs began to fade, the color descending behind her glistening lids as her pretty, tear-filled optics rolled to the back of her head. she desperately wanted to voice her praise, but instead was left with an uncontainable urge to cry the male's name. her knees buckled in the air, and if not for the boy occupying the space between them, they would've clamped shut.

displeased with her distracted gape, shoto roughly pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, clicking his teeth in dissatisfaction. pulling his arm away from the girl, he wedged his hand between her soft thighs, and his fingers parted her slicked folds to press fast circles over her clit, vigorously rounding the aroused bud at a pace that left the young lady gasping for incredulous amounts of air.

her eyes popped open at the overstimulation, her hands trembling as she dug her nails into the skin of her lover to provide herself with a sense of stability, wishing to ground herself to the table and sustain her from losing herself to her high.

"keep your eyes open," furrowing his brows, he met her lust-blown ogle. scoffing, he ceased the ministrations on her clitoris and brought his lips to her neck to remind her, "only obedient girls are rewarded." after nipping at her neck one last time, he brought his mouth to her bounding chest, taking one of the erect buds into his mouth. his gaze flickered to his victim when she slipped a cry of his name. shamelessly tugging his head towards her heated skin, she sighs in content and furrows her brows, subconsciously fluttering her lids until closed.

"don't make me tell you twice." widening her eyelids, she parts them in shock at the grip around her mouth. todoroki's nimble fingertips pressed into the sides of her mouth, and she meekly met his overbearing gaze. the brisk rutting of his pelvis had died and left the girl beneath him lifting her hips to generate friction.

"i'll do whatever you ask," greedily digging her heels into his back and tugging his hips to meet her crotch, she pleaded for him to continue as if a mantra that would grant countless blessings. "please," she panted, "keep going." dying for friction, she caused more contact between the two by jerking her pelvis against his own.

"you can't follow one simple instruction." the irritation in his octaves was evident, but he harbored no genuine distaste with the girl. withdrawing his sex until only the tip pressed into her tightening closure, todoroki belittled her with his glare. "should i remind you that you were to keep quiet? do i look as if i'm messing around? did it appear as if i was kidding when i said i would punish you?"

nearly flinching from his scold, [yn]'s pleads freeze on her tongue, and her movement stilled due to a feral glint that began to swell in his eyes. a nervous gulp glissaded her throat and induced her to utter an apology, figuring it's better if she were to request forgiveness. "it won't happen again, shoto. i," a squeal concluded what was the start of her sentence, her head roughly falling onto the table as her back arched once more. her jaw parted as her eyes languidly fell to the back of her head.

instantaneously, she began whining. as if to fuck her silly, shoto stuffs his girlfriend until he had buried himself to the hilt, his cockhead flexing against her cervix and pounding her insides at a pace that was sure to alter her walk with a limp.

electricity scourged her fluttering insides, white flecks dotting her vision. as todoroki continued his attack, [yn]'s abdomen began to coil into an all-too-familiar bundle, cries resounding the room as she begged for the male to further strike his area of interest.

pulsing shockwaves traveled the length of her spine before descending to the tips of her toes, tingling her insides with enough vigor that left her stammering incoherent phrases. sloppily meeting shoto's lips in a kiss that was far from coordinated, she mentioned her impending orgasm, her calf flexing as she threw her head back and gripped onto todoroki for dear life. sob-like moans were choked from her throat as she began to convulse in anticipation. her figure seized around the form of her lover. one last push had the girl scrambling over the edge, and she huffed a moan of his name, a wail parting her lips as the coil in her abdomen began to unravel, her vision now submerged in white while crystalline tears trailed the sides of her face in their travel.

lazily fluttering around the expanse, [yn]'s attention danced around the room, awaiting a climax that rapidly began to slip through her fingers. a sharp sting was left to remain as her gummy walls squeezed the departing length of her boyfriend's sex, the velvety flesh coiling around the muscle as to suck him back in. [yn]'s trembling lips parted to demand and explanation, her head lifting from the table to meet todoroki's unsympathetic expression. her brow hastily furrowed in displeasure.

"did you not hear me the second time?" uninterestedly gazing upon her fluttering cunt that quivered at lost of contact, the male took her knees into his palms and brought them to her chest, watching slickened arousal seep from her whimpering sex. "girls who cannot follow set rules receive no rewards." slapping a hand against her abused and desperate cunt, shoto took it upon himself to gather lubricant between the slit of her folds and fondle her twinging clit. "finish on your own," nodding towards the nails that clawed at the wood beneath her fingertips, todoroki suggested a method of solace. "with those deft fingers of yours. you can do that, can't you?"

seating himself between her legs, he gifted himself view of her trembling heat, aiding the girl by forcefully parting her legs. "go on.”

[jiaraendgame]

Manipulation — Part One

Summary: Why Rafe Cameron took an interest in a Pogue is unknown, but a year later a bad decision has a good outcome when a golden boy from the Cut makes an unwavering impression on this lost girl.

Warnings: Angst, sad, drug use/abuse, swearing, underage drinking, peer pressure. (I think that’s it?? If I missed anything for the warnings let me know)

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: This is a song fic based on Manipulation by Beartooth.

***Part one is all Rafe x Reader flashback. Part two is where JJ comes in. Oh and there is like a 2.2 second scene with Platonic!JB x Reader in this part.***

This is my first time writing for OBX and in general posting fanfiction for the world to see. So apologies cause it’s definitely trash. I just want to say a BIG thank you for the few people here who encouraged me to write and have fun. Also a BIG thanks to my best friend and beta reader @john-benderr for hyping me up and always supporting me and my silly antics. Hope you guys don’t hate it, I tried my best. Let me know what you think???

Gif credit: @toesure

I hesitated, got lost again

You saw me as wounded prey

I was a wreck, I was a bloody mess

And you couldn't look away

The Boneyard designated party destination here in the Outer Banks. The ultimate summer hang-out spot for some guaranteed wild moments. Even if you could point out every Kook, Touron, or us Pogues from the Cut, it was usually a good time. You never know what’s gonna happen on any given night, but you are sure to find people from all walks of life on this island congregating and partying. This is where you found yourself tonight, at a kegger ready to forget the responsibilities you held at least just for the night. The air was warm, and the party's noise swam through your ears, drowning out any reservation you usually have for yourself. You wanted to drown in this wave of overwhelming senses. The crackles from the fire, the music you swayed to, the sounds of people mingling and cheering, it swallowed you whole as you finished off another cup of bitter liquid. Was this your third or fourth cup from the keg? You don’t really remember anymore, but nor do you care. All that mattered is you were loosening the jaw you had tightened all day and was forgetting about the pressures you were facing at home. Nothing here mattered more than being free.

At this point, you had more than a buzz going on, but nothing was stopping your fun just yet. You clumsily weaved in and out of people working your way back to the keg ready for another round. You usually never drank alone, but tonight you weren’t in the mood for friends. At least that’s what you told yourself. In actuality, everyone you hit up to come tonight ghosted you or had some lame excuse as to why they couldn’t come. So you bravely chose to go as a one-woman show ready to conquer the party on your own. Never thinking that this night would lead you down a rabbit hole, you would never be prepared for. Stumbling forward lost in your thoughts, you slur your words to the tall and tan brown-haired boy with his button down shirt half-open handing out drinks from the keg.

“Hey man, hand me a refill, yeah?” Your sloppy words spill out of your mouth, letters all jumbled together barely coherent to the untrained ear.

The brown-haired boy looked at you a tinge of concern in his eyes as you were visibly wasted and clearly on your own tonight. You don’t know why it mattered. It’s not like everyone else wasn’t just as sloshed as you were.

“Uh, you sure you can handle another one, you look… well, you look pretty faded.” 

The boy’s sentiment meant well, but it did nothing but annoy you. Why did everyone think they had to take care of you? Don’t they know you are beyond capable of doing so yourself? You work your ass off to keep everything in line, you can cut loose every once and awhile. Your inner voice of reason started to rear its ugly head, briefly reminding you how utterly irresponsible you were being. Listen to the boy, go home. You don’t need this. Stop acting so tough you aren’t that strong. It’s okay to feel the way you do. Quit while you’re ahead.

Quickly shoving the paranoia that began to rise in your chest, you knew if you could still feel the panic, then you weren’t drunk enough. Looking back at the boy, he was still eyeing you hesitantly when you finally sharpened your tongue and spoke again.

“Please, I know how to handle myself, pretty boy. I’m just living a little is all.” The attitude in your voice is far from pleasant.

Why were you so rude to the kind boy who clearly was watching out for your well-being? You should have listened to him. You shouldn’t have drunk this next cup. Maybe it was just the catalyst for the events that proceeded to perspire.

“Listen just… just gimme a refill, and I’ll be on my way. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me. I can handle myself, I swear.” While you wanted to sound sure of yourself and maybe even a bit assertive, you could tell he didn’t take you seriously at all.

Your amplified brash persona needed work clearly as it fooled no one while you were blurring the lines of reality and fantasy with each drink you took. The boy looks at you, and the small line starting to form behind you. He sighs to the side as he fills a cup with the amber liquid, finally obliging to your commands to avoid further conflict. While handing you the cup, he speaks once more before you swivel on your heels.

“ Hey, listen... if you need someone to bring you home later or whatever, just come find me. The names John B.”

You stood there bewildered for a moment, unsure why someone would have concern over you. You were just a drunk partygoer at the beach for some fun, why did it seem like you were so different than the others around you? You could take care of yourself you always have, but regardless it was a kind gesture. You felt a pit in your gut for being rude to him moments ago. You couldn’t answer him, you just looked in his eyes and shook your head with a softened smile. Hoping he would understand, you appreciated his offer.

New drink in hand, you stumbled to a clear spot on the beach and plopped yourself down into the ground. Removing your sandals, you buried your toes in the soft sand closing your eyes, taking a swig of your drink. You felt the air on your skin as you leaned your head back. A new sense of calm washed over your body as you faded into the scenery. Sip by sip, you felt all your grievances escape your mind. Nothing would stop you from releasing your mind tonight even if it tried to crawl it’s way back up the hole you shoved it down. If each sip of liquid kept the beasts at bay for just a moment, the tranquility you felt was worth every bit of hell you’d wake up to tomorrow.

You broke me down

So you could take me out

Lost in thought, you lay your body back into the sand, staring up at the stars in a dazed state. Not noticing the pair of eyes that have been watching you for quite some time. From a distance, a seemingly put-together boy traced his eyes along your body. Staring at every curve, every feature, watching every action you took, he knew he had to talk to you. What better time to make a move when you were finally alone, away from the hustle and bustle of the kegger and laying out on the beach staring up at the sky. 

He’s been keeping an eye on you all night, watching you get more faded with each sip of every drink you took. Alone at a party, you don’t see that often around here. Everyone always pairs up fast, even if you did arrive alone. You well, you were different. Something about you drew this clean-cut boy to you, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Something about your solitude reminded him of something he couldn’t quite place a finger on. Or maybe it was how he watched you spiral, falling with no safety net beneath you. He decided tonight he would be the safety net, he would catch you, even if you didn’t ask.

“Hello, beautiful…” A voice speaks out, startling you as your eyes crash open. A light chuckle passes the boy’s lips at your shock. 

“Sorry, darling, didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiles, flashing his gorgeous white teeth at you. “I saw you over here alone and thought you could use some company.”

You blink a few times, trying to focus your blurred vision. A boy whose outline was hazy hovers over you, still smiling that bright smile. However, something felt underlying off about his sheer confidence. It wasn’t much longer until you put two and two together. The boy in the salmon-colored polo shirt and the khaki shorts that stared into your eyes was the infamous Kook prince himself, Rafe Cameron.

Any other day of the week, you’d loathe the boy in front of you, he always caused trouble for anyone who came from the Cut. He bathed in his arrogance and condescending words. So why has the prince of Kooks wandered his way over to you was the million-dollar question. One that you’re not sure you’ll ever get the answer to.

You lifted yourself into a sitting position and still have yet to speak a word to the polished boy in front of you. He speaks once more, trying to pry words from your mouth with every smooth sentence he spoke.

“Aw come now, a gorgeous face like that shouldn’t be scowling by her lonesome. Let me join you, they always say misery loves company.” The tip of the boy’s tongue brushes his top lip as a sly smirk pricks the side of his mouth.

You cock your eyebrow up, but still, motion for the boy to sit next to you. You didn’t think you were scowling, but the more you focused your mind, it became clear you weren’t suppressing any of the facial expressions you thought you were. The alcohol tore down your mask a little more than you would have liked. 

You finally spoke to the boy poised next to you, studying the side of your face. “Who says I’m miserable, what if I just want the company?”

A chuckle passes his lips, he knew he had his hooks in you now. You turn and face Rafe, knowing full well that engaging with him is a terrible idea, but sometimes you craved a little danger in your life. Danger, like getting involved with a Kook named Rafe Cameron, would entail. If it distracted you even just for the night then why not go all out, he was looking rather charming tonight.

“Ah, well, aren’t we all a little miserable? I mean, no one’s perfect, right?” His breathy words cause the curiosity inside you to rise. 

Was the always well kept and confident Rafe Cameron telling you he and his Kook lifestyle wasn’t perfect? 

 It had to be the alcohol talking. It’s burning through your veins, making you actually consider speaking to someone so deviously pristine. Part of you believed it was to forget your troubles, the other part wondered what lies beneath the surface of the self-proclaimed prince. The more you gazed at him, the more sweetness you saw, but it wasn’t just that. There was something else about Rafe that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but maybe you two had more in common than you thought.

“Please, Rafe, don’t give me your pity party parade. People like you don’t know real misery.”

“On the contrary little dove, he who you see before you has many layers, my rips, and tears, however, are patched up and easily hidden. Yours, however… well, yours are prominent and hanging by threads.”

Ouch. There is the haughty personality that you knew would peek out eventually. The sting of his words appeared on your face as he tries to console the wounds he inflicted.

“Everyone is tattered and worn little dove; it’s how you patch those tears that matter.”

“What are you getting at here, Rafe? Cause it seems to me, despite how sweet you think your sentiment is, you just don’t know how to truly console someone you see as lesser than you.” You want to keep your annoyance you have with Rafe, but with each comment and... and that nickname, he cracks your shell a little bit more.

“I don’t believe you are less than me beautiful, I just…” He sighs. “You’re right, I’m not good at consoling others.” He pauses briefly before he continues, knowing he has to bring himself down a level or he won’t get anywhere with you.

“How’s this then… how about instead of talking we just keep each other company? You don’t even have to speak to me if you don’t want to, though I’d prefer it if you did.” A small wink is shot your way.

“We aren’t just gonna sit here in silence Rafe, I don’t want that kind of company.”

“Well… then how about we ditch the sand and trade it in for something a little more… luxurious?”

There it was, the danger you felt. An offer from Rafe Cameron to go, god, knows where to do god knows what. It excited you, the unknown world of Rafe. You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to fully plunge yourself into forbidden territory, but there it was again. The panic rising in your chest, the thoughts and stress you wanted to escape creeping up again, threatening to attack if you let them linger too long. With that, you took your red cup and downed the remainder of its contents, pushing back your burdens once more. 

Looking into Rafe’s eyes, there was a sparkle of chaos hidden deep within his soft gaze. It made you weak, it made you yearn for something more than this party at the Boneyard. With that, your decision was made. You gave him a smile and shook your head, trying to contain the eagerness you suddenly felt.

This is isolation

Kept in the dark and waiting

You're wearing the crown of kingdoms I created

Now I can't escape it

All of the light is fading

Rafe was up in seconds, extending his hand down to you; an almost menacing smirk overtook his face. As you clasp your hand into his and you’re brought to your feet, you stumble into his side, gripping tighter to keep your balance. Rafe was quick to slide his free arm around your waist, steadying you.

“I got you little dove, lean on me. I won’t let you fall.”

His sweet like honey words swallowed you now. A flush of red kisses your cheeks. Was it his promise to not let you fall or was it the nickname he spoke to you that made your head swirl more than the alcohol ever could, you weren’t sure, but you wished the feeling wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t long before you were in Rafe’s car and driving who knows where, but what you did know was the excitement you felt was overwhelming your fear. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you what a real party is like, beautiful.”

The compliments he kept spewing towards you, a simple Pogue girl, was astonishing. You never believed a Kook like Rafe would see you as anything but a “dirty Pogue.”

“Can I ask a question?” You turn your head towards the boy.

“Of course, little dove. Anything.” He places his free hand on your bare thigh and a light squeeze follows it.

The shiver sent down your spine, tantalized your thoughts. You no longer could think straight. He glances over to you, a smirk once more gracing his lips.

“Why little dove? I- I mean, why are you calling me that?”

“Well, I thought that was obvious, darling? You know my name, but I still have yet to learn yours.”

Your face drops at the realization that you never indeed introduced yourself to Rafe. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew who he was, but you? You were no one. Of course, he didn’t know your name.

“O-oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize I didn’t... uhh,” you chuckle nervously at your idiocy. “The names (Y/N).” You spit out between nervous breaths and awkward giggles. The alcohol was still strong in your system.

A light, almost innocent laugh passes his lips, looking over to you. “It’s okay (Y/N), I don’t mind giving a beautiful girl a nickname that suits her.” He winks. “In fact, I think you’re stuck with little dove from now on… if you don’t mind, of course.”

You hadn’t realized the car had come to a stop in front of a vast mansion. The architecture was beautiful and symmetric with white pillars on the outside. Perfectly kept flowered hedges and trimmed grass graces the front yard. It was like a picture, pristine and undamaged.

“I-I don’t mind no… not at all.” You smile sheepishly towards the boy as he turns the key and shuts the ignition off.

“Well, here we are… are you ready for a real party?” He asks, stepping out and quickly meeting you at the passenger side. Opening the door, he offers you his hand once more.

Taking his hand, you lean once more on his side, steadying your balance. Unsure where the night is about to guide you. Despite the pristine image outside the house once in the door, the whole feeling has changed. There were Kooks everywhere, and to say you felt a little out of place was an understatement. Loud music blared through the open rooms filled with people drinking, smoking, laughing, and smiling. Much like at the Boneyard, but the atmosphere was entirely different. 

Rafe sensed your new-found hesitation, but he wasn’t about to let you slip away. Not when he finally had you where he wanted. Pulling you closer to his side, he whispers into your ear—his warm breath causing you to gasp slightly at his now lower smooth tone.

“Relax… you can trust me.”

All you could do was shake your head. You weren't quite sure how this boy made you so weak at the knees, but you wanted to believe him, so you did.

He paraded you through the party, introducing you to the skeptical Kooks whose eyeballs felt like daggers in your chest. Their disdain and judgment of you unspoken with you wrapped around Rafe’s side.

Finally, on the last stop of the tour de la Cameron, he brought you through a room that outlooked towards the pool area. He brings you up towards a smaller group of people. Two of which you recognized as Rafe’s loyal posse. Topper and Kelce.

“Hey what’s up my man, where have you been all night?”

They exchange greetings and eyeball his new hip attachment IE you. They look over to Rafe with enigmatic smiles spread across their face, but before they could say anything to you, the boy spoke.

“Boys this is (Y/N), she came to experience what real luxury is like. So I expect her to be treated like the best guest of honor she is.”

Topper and Kelce share a glance and shrug off the ideas of Rafe, bringing a Pogue to their side of the island. They figured he had other intentions behind his new side piece. 

“Right well welcome (Y/N) I hope you’re ready for some real fun.” The boys gleamed their fakest grins towards you.

Rafe pulls you over and sits you down next to him, a clear glass table in front of you. The other two boys sit across from you. After a seemingly relaxed conversation, he claps his hands together and lets out an excited laugh.

“Alright, boys, the real fun begins.” Looking over to you, he releases your hand that you’ve been holding and pulls out a small plastic baggy with a white substance inside. He makes quick work of the substance cutting out four clean and tight lines onto the table. Rolling a dollar bill into a cylinder, he passes it over to Kelce. 

The muscular boy leans towards the table cylinder in hand against one nostril while he plugs the other. In one swift movement, the white powder was gone, and he passed the bill over to Topper. He quickly follows suit. Both the boys cheer out a sudden burst of euphoria that rattles their bodies. Looking on to Rafe as he was up next.

You pulled at his arm in shock at the site you’re seeing unravel in front of your eyes. He could see the worry written all over you.

“Don’t worry darling, a little blow never hurt anyone.” He pats your head, running his hand down your hair, and leans over and plants a kiss onto your cheek.

The sudden physical affection made you swoon as you bite your lower lip, still looking at him with concern in your eyes.

“I-I don’t know about this, Rafe.”

“Shhh, just watch it’ll be fine.”

He lowers his abdomen down with haste cleaner and faster than the previous boys; the powder is gone. Almost as if he’s done this regularly. Maybe Rafe Cameron wasn’t lying to you earlier. Perhaps he really was hiding an unseen misery. Your heart suddenly ached for the boy as he leaned up and pinched his nostrils a few times, sniffing back the remnants of the content he just consumed.

“It’s your turn beautiful. This will clear out all that misery from earlier, I promise.” He extends the rolled-up bill to you, his eyes darting down your body, trying to read your response.

You don’t speak. You just stare at him, and the boys across from you obnoxiously chuckle.

“Come on (Y/N) you’re a Pogue you should be used to this shit on the Cut.”

“Where’s your courage, girl?”

The boys tease as Rafe shoots them a glare, silencing them immediately. You reach out your hand shakily towards the rolled-up bill. Questioning why you’re even considering this. His words from earlier echo in your head, ‘you can trust me.’

“It’s easy, I promise I’ll even help you. Trust me, you’ll feel like you’re on top of the world. Once you’re there, the real party begins.”

“I-I’m scared.” You whisper to Rafe as he pulls you closer.

“No reason to be scared sweetheart, I got you. Remember, I won’t let you fall.” His hand cups the side of your face. His eyes looking deep into yours so soft and sweet as he's gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself you wanted to live a little. You wanted this freedom, this danger. So it was now or never. You leaned down as Rafe bends to help you. The boy pressed one of your nostrils closed and instructed you to snort in fast and move down the line. You shake your head, confirming to him you were ready.

“Come on, little dove… let’s fly.” These were the last words you remember hearing as you snorted your first line of blow. Rafe cooing to you as you faded out. 

This isn't trust

This is manipulation

Taglist: @pit-zuh 

(Tbh I wanted to tag a few other mututals but I’m nervous so sorry!)

Part Two coming soon-ish?

[iustories]

The Visitor

IU x Kim Soohyun

Jieun’s POV

Of all the places, I met you here. It's out of the ordinary I'd say, but I knew one day we'll see each other here. Little by little, everything faded before my eyes and I only saw you. You met my gaze with the same warmth and I clearly remembered the last time you looked at me similarly. When was that again? How long has it been since? I could tell you I lost count, but that would be a lie and I'm certain you'd immediately catch it before I even finish my sentence because you know everything about me, except for the part that I loved you I guess.

Loved? Should I be speaking in past tense? Do I still have the same fire burning in my chest? Sometimes I'm confused.

I approached you with caution as I always do, afraid to look eager, but I may give myself away when I smile a tad wider than usual. It can't be helped since you bring it out of me effortlessly and I'm a fool for giving in every damn time. But what is to be terrified about? This strange place will forget me, you, us, and whatever will happen, right? So I'll take my chances.

You rose to your feet with such grace and met me in the middle then pulled me into a tight hug. Ah, it feels like home. It feels like you. Seconds passed and I am still in your arms. I didn't detect any intention of you wanting to let go and it was my cue to allow myself to enjoy this freely. Was I always guilty when you're too close before? Now please don't break free. I promise I won't push you away this time. I'll make you stay.

There were no words spoken, just hearts beating in the same rhythm, speaking things that could not be explained if said.

"I missed you," you whispered, your soft breath tickling my ear.

If it weren't for this place, I would be hesitant to say it back, but since we're here let me just be honest. I'm sorry I had to mask my affection with dry humor. It was the only way I could tell you without actually telling you. "I missed you too. How have you been?"

Of course I'm aware that you're doing fine. You've been busy exploring new activities and having fun with your family. I check up on you from time to time. Despite what happened between us, I still genuinely care for you. "I'm good. And you?"

I was still engulfed in your embrace and if we talk for hours in this position, I wouldn't complain. "I'm okay too. I've been doing things here and there. Nothing really special, but yeah I'm okay."

I still can't conjure coherent sentences without feeling anxious. I mean, being around you still makes me nervous even in this place where nobody knows us.

You finally separated yourself from me, your hands traveling from my back towards my arms. You gripped them firmly then smiled at me, evidently delighted by my sudden appearance, like you've been waiting for me to come.

"Let's sit?" You casually asked and I nodded in response. You dragged me to the couch and motioned your hand, telling me to sit.

"What do you want to watch?" You asked, your eyes directing me to the screen. I turned to your laptop and scanned the selection. Seeing the titles brought a small smile on my lips because it just proves that it's you. Those movies and shows are your favorite. Now I'm sure this is all real.

I pointed at medical drama that you were raving about years ago. When you told me about it for the first time, I gave you a funny look because I didn't perceive you as a sentimental person.

"Good choice," you approved, your lips curving into a satisfied smile as you clicked on the show.

Do we have all the time in the world to watch shows? Can we settle some things first? I don't know how much time we have, so for the sake of my sanity, can we talk? But like in the past, my requests refused to leave my lips because your pleasure is much important than mine. I couldn't help it you know—putting you first. It's ridiculous, yes. But this is how I loved you.

Loved. There it is again. That word. It weighs heavily on me, waking the feelings I've come to abandon over the years as my hope dwindled. Can that word not ring in my head when I look at you? It's really bothersome and I can't focus on the present.

There was a considerable amount of space between us which actually disappointed me since we were always skin to skin. Have we fallen apart completely? Have we created boundaries? A while ago I thought we were back on track.

You must have heard my thoughts because you gradually moved closer until your arm was lightly touching mine and at the initial contact, I almost flinched and had to hold the gasp that was about to escape my lips. It amazes me how you still affect me with such intensity after all these years. I felt you arm hover over my neck and it found its way around my shoulder, causing me to freeze. You quietly tugged me towards you, urging me to relax and be comfortable, so I did. The loud beating of my heart deliberately subsided when you began patting my arm repeatedly. I eased my mind and I ran back to the things I used to do when I'm with you—placing my head on your chest and my arm around your belly.

And here I am again wishing this moment would never end, but I already tried it a couple of times in the past yet we were still separated by fate in the end.

"Jieun-ah," You called my name tenderly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to tell me anything?" You asked with a mellow tone, coaxing me.

"Like what?"

"Just anything. Maybe things I don't know?" There uncertainty in your voice, but I heard conviction as well.

Now I wonder if you've known all along. It's not impossible though since people talk and rumors spread quite fast.

Should I be honest or should I lie? Isn't this what I've been imagining—you asking me if I had something to say?

"I won't be mad. Whatever it is just tell me," you reassured me.

I let silence prevail, thinking hard if I should just say the truth. This is the redo that I prayed for, so letting this pass would be another dumb mistake.

"Do you know that I love you?"

Should I have said 'loved'? Which one is appropriate? And why am I answering you with a question? God damn it.

It was your turn to fall silent and tension immediately rose as you let seconds pass. "I know. I've always known."

My heart leaped as a mix of anxiety, fear, and excitement played inside my system. "Really?"

"I could see from the way you looked at me," You explained simply then paused.

"And I looked at you the same, but you never saw it, right?"

I processed your words carefully, afraid I might have gotten the wrong idea, but you interrupted my train of thoughts when you added, "We wouldn't be talking about this if you noticed. I loved you too."

"But things went downhill, didn't it?" I asked, trying to comfort myself from the missed opportunity by blaming it on fate and circumstances.

"It did," you affirmed. "But we could have tried."

"Would you have chosen me?"

You sighed then tightened your hold on me. "Yeah. I would have. Without a doubt."

"So we both ended up being alone after all that," I said chuckling, attempting to dismiss the ache growing inside my chest as regrets threaten to break loose at the gates of my mind.

"I talked a lot about you—no, all I talked about was you." I felt you shake your head, your chin brushing against the top of my head a few times. "I couldn't tell you too so I told other people."

"What were we so afraid of?" I asked, hoping that you had an answer. If we loved each other then, what was stopping us?

"Hurting others? We thought of them first before us."

Right. I almost forgot. Other people. We weren't selfish enough to take it to another level because of others or rather this person we both held close to our hearts. Our friend.

"Did we do the right thing?" I'm desperately seeking reprieve because I am being chased by the consequences of that decision.

"Yeah, I think we did," you answered as you peeked at my face and I wasn't quick enough to hide the sadness that was etched on it. "I'm sorry, Jieun-ah. I know I gave you a hard time. I know you've been waiting."

I bit my lip to control its trembling. The show continues to play on the screen, but it only served as the noise that filled the void when we fail to answer quickly.

"But doing the right thing doesn't always make us happy," you continued. "So are you happy now?"

I parted my lips yet nothing came out. Am I really happy without you? Am I truly resigned to the future I have in mind?

"Am I?" I stroked my chin as if I was really thinking of it, but in all honesty, I couldn't get myself to do it because I'm scared to know the answer.

You chuckled then ran your fingers down the length of my hair and I instinctively shut my eyes as the calming sensation of your touch registered. "I may be doing great, but I couldn't say I'm entirely happy."

Your answer surprised me. Even though you've confessed your feelings just a while ago, I couldn't wrap my head around it yet. How can I? I imagined hearing those words from you for quite a long time until I gave up, therefore everything may be happening inside my head.

"Me too." I was suddenly feeling hopeful since we are in another place. We were just two people who met unexpectedly so maybe this time I can fulfill my wishes. "So can we start again? If we aren't happy after what we've done, can we do what we want this time?"

You sighed again. What is it with the heavy sighs and the tone you've been using? Isn't this supposed to be a do-over, the clean slate that we both wanted? There isn't anyone who could hold us back anymore.

"I'm afraid we can't," you replied in a regretful tone.

You are so good at putting the pieces of my heart back together and breaking it right after. Hasn't this happened countless times already? Aren't you tired of hurting me?

"Why? What is our excuse this time?" I asked, my jaw clenching.

"We just can't."

"At least give me something I can understand. This is too much."

You kissed the top of my head. "This is not real, Jieun-ah"

"It is! What are you saying?"

"You know from the start this isn't real," you pressed further.

I gulped hard, my breathing becoming shallow and rapid. "Do we have to do this again?"

How many times do I have to lose you? How many times do you have to come back and remind me that you are not mine? You've been consistent at that and that's why I couldn't let you go that easily.

"Yes. We must go our separate ways again. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But I'm glad I saw you here."

Just as tears trickled down my face, my eyes fluttered open. My heart was pounding erratically against my chest as your voice echoed repeatedly in my brain. I'm glad I met you here. I felt the wetness of my pillow and realized that I shed some tears while I was asleep.

You, my frequent visitor, the person of my dreams, came to make your presence felt again. Indeed, you know when to remind me of you when I start to forget.