#finally she gives up and plants herself in the middle of the floor to beat her tail angrily and glare at me

[cultivating-wildflowers]

I have never met a cat who could throw a silent tantrum as efficiently as this monster

[bibliophiliaxvignette]

The Nessian addition of my Gwynriel minific Little Thief is up on AO3! Tiny Dancer, or in other words, the much requested Cassian lap dance! (You're so welcome)

Snippet below the cut!

Cassian glances down at his single cup, over to their four cups remaining, then flicks his gaze up to Nesta’s. He considers what his song choice should be as Emerie positions herself to make the final shot of the game. Emerie sinks it, cheering. He plucks the ball out of the glass before bringing it to his lips and draining it, all while maintaining searing eye contact with Nesta. 

Never been so thrilled to lose a game in my life . 

He rounds the table, grabbing her hand and lifting it in the air to lead her towards the middle of the living room like he’s a fae Lord leading a Lady to the middle of a dance floor for a proper waltz. 

“What’s happening?” Rhys asks. 

“Cassian lost a beer pong bet. He’s giving Nesta a lap dance,” Emerie delivers the news like it’s an every day occurrence. 

Feyre's and Rhys’s jaws drop as Cassian positions a chair in the middle of the room. A crowd has begun to form, curious. He can see Nesta’s cheeks tinge pink, her eyes darting around at all the people beginning to watch. Cassian pulls her hand to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on the back of it. 

“Eyes on me, Nes,” he says softly, looking at her warmly. She swallows and nods. 

He goes to the corner where a teammate is controlling the music and whispers in his ear what song he wants. Turning to Nesta with a shit-eating grin on his face as the distinctly recognizable first beats of Pony by Ginuwine strain through the speakers, he feels his heart stutter as the first smile spreads across Nesta’s face. His heart outright stops as she laughs. It’s bright and harsh and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard, even against the outrageous bass of the song. 

[mayhemproduces]

The moment the bell rings, Rhea goes right after Bayley, nailing her with a forearm! Toni spins Rhea around, and she eats a forearm, too! Rhea is, obviously, the biggest and most powerful woman in this match, and Bayley and Toni are going to have to work together to try and take her out. The both of them duck clotheslines from Rhea, turning her around and dropping her with a pair of dropkicks! The alliance is extremely short lived, as Bayley goes low, bringing Toni down with a school boy!

1… Kickout!

Toni kicks out, and trips Bayley up into La Magistral!

1…. Kickout!

This time it’s Bayley who kicks out and trips Storm up, laying on top of her for the cover!

1… Toni picks them up off the mat, her arms wrapped around Bayley. She swivels, and gets Bayley with a backslide!

1…. Rhea breaks it up, rolling Toni into a sitout pin!

1… Bayley breaks it up with a crucifix on Rhea!

1…. Kickout!

Rhea scrambles to her feet, aiming at Bayley’s head, but she moves out of the way, and Rhea decks Toni with a big boot! Storm gets sent sprawling out of the ring, leaving just Bayley and Rhea eye to eye, face to face. The two who started this all. Before there was Toni, Io, before their successes began, it was just these two. Long, empty roads in front of them, and a dream. But that dream was realized, shattered, and now they circle one another. Bayley kicks away Rhea’s arm, and nails her with a superkick! Rhea stumbles into the corner, where Bayley comes charging in with a running knee, but Ripley scoops her up! Rhea charges towards the corner, and dumps Bayley with a buckle bomb! Storm slides in the ring as Bayley pulls herself up, grabbing Rhea by the waist. Rhea standing switches, Toni switches back, and drives Rhea into the corner. From the second rope, Bayley leaps over them, tossing Toni with a sunset flip, as Toni tosses Ripley with a German suplex! Bayley has the sitout on Toni, shoulders down!

1… 2… Kickout!

Bayley picks Toni up, but Toni tosses her with an arm drag. Bayley scrambles, tossing her with an arm drag as well. Toni with another arm drag, before trying to whip Bayley across the ring, but Bayley reverses. As she hits the ropes to rebound, Ripley grabs her by the foot and pulls her out of the ring, and onto her shoulders! With Bayley up in the electric chair, Rhea snaps down, slammed Bayley’s jaw and face onto the apron! Bayley snaps back hard enough to give herself whiplash, but there’s no rest for the wicked tonight, as Toni comes soaring off the apron, taking Rhea down with a diving forearm! Storm throws her back inside the ring and grabs Rhea by the hair. She swings her arm in a rapid circle, the crowd hanging on in anticipation, as round and round it goes… before finally popping Rhea with a right hand! Mami goes down, and Storm covers!

1… 2… Kickout!

Picking Ripley up, Rhea grabs Toni and drives her into the turnbuckles, ramming her into the corner! Rhea is backed up by the referee, but she ignores him, going back to the shoulder tackles, but Toni kicks her! Moving up to the second rope, Toni leaps off, taking Ripley down with a missile dropkick! Storm covers!

1… 2… Broken up!

Bayley breaks up the cover, and beats Storm down for a moment, before turning her attention towards Rhea, planting her with a running neckbreaker! Cover on Rhea!

1… 2… Broken up!

Storm breaks it up! With how well these three ladies know each other, you can expect to see a lot of that tonight. Unless Toni finishes it here, crushing Bayley’s neck with the Storm Breaker! Toni hooks the far leg!

1… 2… Broken up!

Rhea breaks it up! As Bayley rolls to the floor of the Kia Forum, Toni Storm and Rhea Ripley have a staredown. Two of the most highly sought after and beloved women’s wrestlers of today, two multi-time champions, and up until a few weeks ago, both wore gold around their waists. The Eradicator and Timeless Toni Storm start trading forearms in the middle of the ring, as LA loses their heads! Rhea breaks it up with a snap headbutt, sending Storm stumbling back. To I charges, Rhea snatches her in a wheelbarrow. At the same time, Bayley rolls into the ring, and nails Toni with a wheelbarrow Codebreaker, assisting Rhea whether she intended to or not. But there will be no alliances tonight, as Rhea immediately decks her with a big boot. In the corner, Storm is up, and Rhea charges after her. Toni moves out of the way, and Rhea throws herself shoulder first into the ring post! Rhea turns around, holding her shoulder, as Bayley gets caught with a body slam. Toni kicks her onto Rhea before marching across the ring. She looks out at Los Angeles with a wide eyed, crazed look on her face, before charging across the ring, and nailing both Bayley and Rhea with a WICKED hip attack! The whiplash on that one was insane, and Toni pulls Bayley out of the ropes, covering her!

1… 2… Kickout!

Toni freaks for a second, before quickly covering Rhea!

1… 2… Kickout!

Not enough there either! It’s hard to say who got the worst of it, but it wasn’t enough to keep either of them down tonight. Needless to say, Toni isn’t very happy about it. It’ll be hard enough to win in a triple threat without eyes in the back of your head, but doing so against two great wrestlers like Rhea and Bayley is even more difficult. But Toni had a chance, a tremendous chance, and it slipped through her fingers.

In the middle of her meltdown, Bayley was able to recover, and tosses Storm with an exploder suplex! Storm gets tossed out of the ring, and Bayley lines Rhea up in the corner, nailing her with a running back elbow! She puts Ripley on the top rope, climbs up with her, and tosses her with an avalanche hurricanrana! We’re in Bayley’s backyard this evening, and they wanna know if Bayley will be their girl, as Bayley drills Rhea with a springboard Poison Rana! She goes for the cover, but Toni grabs her by the foot, and pulls her out of the ring! Bayley blocks a punch from Toni, and punches her instead! Toni goes stumbling, and Bayley slides under the turnbuckle, nailing Toni with a baseball slide dropkick! Bayley grabs Toni, picking her up, when Rhea flattens them both with a suicide dive! Ripley throws Storm back inside the ring, and hits a Fisherman Buster, bridging into the cover!

1… 2… Kickout!

Toni kicks out, but Rhea flips her over, and locks her in the Prism Trap! Toni screams out in pain as she’s all twisted up, the blood rushing to her head. Rhea leans back, getting full extension here, as Toni tries to crawl to the ropes. Walking on the palm of her hands, Toni gets close, but Rhea pulls them back, and snaps down to the mat, getting the Prism Trap locked in with a body scissors. Toni screams out again, thinking about tapping… when Bayley comes from the skies, crushing Rhea with a Swanton Bomb! Bayley covers!

1… 2… Kickout!

Bayley nails Rhea with a knee strike, before bouncing off the ropes, and knocking her down with a sliding clothesline! Bayley with another cover!

1… 2 - Broken up!

Toni pulls her of the cover with a waistlock, matches to the center of the ring, and plants Bayley with a release German suplex! She goes to grab Ripley, but Rhea nails her with another snap headbutt! Rhea throws a kick, but Toni ducks, grabbing Rhea by the waist, and planting her with a German suplex, bridging into the cover!

1… 2… Broken up!

Bayley breaks it up, and eats an uppercut from Storm for her troubles. Bayley reverses the next one, but Toni reverses her reversal, going for that hip toss DDT, but Bayley blocks it, countering with a back body drop! Toni hits hard on her tailbone and rolls to the side - as Rhea comes up from behind Bayley, and gets her in a pumphandle! Hooking her in, Rhea plants Bayley with the Riptide! She’s stacked up!

1… -

Toni grabs Rhea by the hair and throws her out of the ring, folding Bayley up to steal the win in LA!

1… 2… KICKOUT!

BAYLEY KICKS OUT OF THE RIPTIDE! Toni had a brilliant strategy, executed to perfection, but didn’t expect Bayley to be so resilient as to kick out. But Toni won’t make the same mistake as last time. She attempts to channel her emotions, and drags Bayley into the corner. With her lined up, ass at the ready, she crushes Bayley with another sweet cheek music! There’s no one to break it up this time, and Toni might be leaving Los Angeles with the win, right here!

1… 2… Broken up!

Rhea comes from nowhere to break it up, and now she and Toni are trading more forearms, trading barbs, before Rhea ducks a shot and gets a ripcord. She flips Toni out, but Toni punches her right in the corner of her jaw! Rhea nearly gets knocked off her ass, and Storm uppercuts her into the corner. Turning her upside down in the tree of woe, Toni chokes her there, until she gets clobbered from behind by Bayley. Bayley climbs over Rhea, maybe thinking about her tree of woe elbow drop to take her out, but Toni climbs up to the top rope with her! With her back facing the ring, Rhea danging under her, Toni is risking a lot for the biscuit, but it’ll be worth it if this can pay off. Trading forearms, Toni gets the better of the exchange, and hooks Bayley in. Rhea leans up, grabbing Toni by the waist, and chucks her off the top rope with a German suplex, while Toni and Bayley come crashing down with a huge Superplex! Holy shit! This could be Mami’s moment here, as Rhea goes for the cover on Toni!

1… 2… Kickout!

Not enough, so Rhea tries Bayley instead - but Bayley suckers her into a roll up!

1… 2… Kickout!

Quickly back on their feet, Bayley drills Rhea with a superkick! She drags Ripley into the corner, and nails her with a big running knee! She crumbles, and Bayley lines her up, smacks her own ass, before charging, and crushing Rhea with a big hip attack! Taking a play out of Toni’s book there, as she’s certainly been on the receiving end of plenty of those - when Toni comes up from behind Bayley! She gets her in the pumphandle, and plants Bayley with a Riptide!! Toni covers!

1… 2… Rhea grabs Toni by the hair, and slams her face first with the Rose Plant! Rhea covers!

1… 2… Broken up!

Bayley runs through Rhea with a knee strike, ending this little charade. It’s a testament to how well they know one another, how many hours they’ve spent practicing together, training together. But Bayley wants to win this with her own move. With Toni out of the picture, and Rhea in the drop zone, Bayley ascends to the top rope. She stands up tall, looking out at the Kia Forum, at Los Angeles, who either adore her with every part of their being, or hate her guts, but there’s a smirk on her face as she leaps, crushing Rhea with the elbow drop! It’s over! Bayley covers!

1… 2…

Toni comes up and turns Bayley head over heels, trapping her on her shoulders!

1… 2… 3!

“Here is your winner, Toni Storm!”

Toni half falls, half scrambles out of the ring, and away from a very irate Bayley, having just stolen the win right out from under her! Toni waves to her adoring fans, as delusional as ever, before skipping to the back, and Darkness Falls rolls on!

[venicebixch]

Little Whore (repost)

so idk if i somehow accidentally deleted this or if tumblr is cracked out but i posted this then it disappeared ?? so here it is again. smut, of course. M/M/F threesome with Vinnie and Ben Riff. DP, smacking, choking, spanking, degradation, orgasm denial, oral (m & f), a little bit of praise. enjoy!

Bent over the arm of the couch, feet barely on the floor, and spread wide open for Vinnie and Ben isn’t exactly how she thought this night would go. But these two, on the other hand, had this planned all along.

“God, just look at her,” Vinnie groans, spreading her legs further apart to get the perfect view of her cunt.

“I know. Little whore,” Ben snickers.

She came over innocently tonight, only expecting a movie night with friends, and that’s what it started as. But as soon as their other friends left for the store and they were alone, Vinnie and Ben got right to work trying to ease her into this.

“You’re soaked, baby. It’s all over your thighs,” Vinnie smacks her ass, making her recoil against the couch and whine as the heat radiates from the imprint of his hand she’s sure he must’ve left.

He runs his finger over her entrance, grazing her clit with an agonizingly soft pressure, getting the greatest thrill he’s ever had having her in this position. “Hold her down, don’t let her move too much.”

Ben pins her limp arms under his knees against the couch in front of her, pressing his hands against each side of her lower back.

Mindless moans roll out of her throat getting muffled by the cushion against her face and her heart feels it’s about to beat right out of her chest.

Vinnie slips his middle finger inside of her. A loud moan rips from her throat and her whole body tenses under the pleasure. Her eyes close tight, gripping whatever fabric on the couch her fingers can grasp for dear life.

“Spread her for me,” Vinnie says, almost in a whisper at this point, finding it harder and harder to talk through his own excitement.

Ben’s hands move from her back to her ass, spreading her apart to give full access to Vinnie. “Stretch out her good. Get her ready for us,” Ben smiles.

Vinnie doesn’t waste a second to taste her, crouching to his knees behind her and running his tongue along her soaking wet cunt from his finger to her swollen clit, teasing her for an obnoxiously long while before he finally latches on to it.

Her feet completely give out from under her, leaving her suspended there as Ben holds her in place. Her whines mixed with the wet noises coming from what Vinnie’s mouth is doing to her are the only noises filling the room as she completely gives herself over to them.

Now, she’s never been the type to do this sort of thing before and never thought she would be. It’s a whorish thing to do and that’s not who she is. She respects herself, never even giving it up on the first date. Never allows a man to treat her bad or tell her what to do. She’s independent. She’s classy. And she takes great pride in these things about herself.

But something about these two - they have a hold on her that she can’t explain. All it took was one look from Ben and Vinnie wrapping his god damned tattooed hand around her thigh and she crumbled.

Now all she can now is lay here, getting used like an object for their own gratification. And as disgraceful as she knows it is, nothing has ever made her happier.

Already, an intense knot forms in the lower part of her stomach and her moans turn into groans as her high comes at her fast and hard. She opens her mouth to talk but can’t get anything out except a jumbled mess of incoherent words.

Vinnie pulls away from her clit, instantly taking away the release she was so close to getting. Tears well up in her eyes from her frustration and she harshly plants her feet back on the ground.

“Vinnie!” She whines and wiggles a little bit in an unsuccessful attempt to try to get out of Ben’s hold on her.

“What, baby?” Vinnie asks, slipping a second finger into her.

“I - I…”

“Sp-sp-spit it out,” he taunts her, pumping his fingers a little faster.

“Was gonna cum,” she finally says.

“You were?” He asks sarcastically.

The tears finally over flow on to her cheeks “Yes!”

“What do you think, Ben? Should we let her?”

“Hell no. She hasn’t earned it yet,” Ben responds.

Her stomach drops and her legs get weak again. “Please,” she begs. “Please!”

“What’re you gonna do to earn it?” Ben asks her.

“Anything! Wha-whatever y-you want.”

“Anything?”

“Yes,” she squeaks out.

Ben moves off of her and strips his boxers off, leaving him fully naked. “Prove it then. And better hurry, the others might be back soon,” he smirks and gets back on the couch in front of her.

Her eyes widen a little. She had completely forgotten where she was and the fact her friends might be back at any time. But that all feels irrelevant right now. She needs this.

She props herself on her elbows and opens wide as he pushes his cock through her plump lips into the back of her throat, making her gag.

“Good girl,” Ben groans. “Make it sloppy.”

She pulls her mouth back and spits on his cock, then gathers the drool from her mouth, coating him in it and pumping him as she does it.

“You’re getting there,” Ben leans forward, smacking her ass. “Try harder though.”

She takes him in his mouth again, pushing him as far back as he can fit and starts to suck like her life depends on it. Bobbing her head, using her tongue, moaning for vibration - doing anything and everything she knows to satisfy him enough.

He gathers her hair into a ponytail and pulls her head in place as he starts to fuck her mouth relentlessly, intensifying her gargling noises and whatever little moans she can squeak out.

“She’s doing great, give it to her,” he finally allows.

Vinnie latches on her clit again, flicking his tongue and sucking at different speeds. He fingers her harder, feeling her clench around him.

She feels her feet give out again and wraps her hands around Ben’s thighs to hold her where she is. Her high starts to come back, even stronger than before and within seconds she’s dazed with euphoria as waves of pleasure wash over her. Combined with her gagging, it’s the perfect mix of pleasure and discomfort doing more for her than she ever thought possible.

Just one of them alone would be enough to drive her insane but both of them together? She knew she was going to be in for it the second she agreed to do this but this is an awakening for her, unlike anything else she’s ever experienced.

After a few more thrusts, Ben pulls out of her mouth Vinnie pulls away from her pussy, still keeping his fingers lodged firmly inside of her.

Vinnie uses his free hand to wipe his mouth clean of her and smacks her ass again. “Gonna stretch you a little more, you ready?”

Her eyes finally open again and she looks back at him. “Okay,” she says breathlessly.

He slips a third finger into her, but not easily. It takes a some work and some bracing on her part but her own cum helps lubricate it.

“So fucking tight, don’t know how you’re gonna take us both,” he taunts her, thrusting his fingers.

“Oh, she can do it. Can’t you?” Ben rubs her backs

She moans through clenched teeth. She’s not sure it’s true but she’s sure as hell going to try her very best. “Yeah.”

“We’ll find out,” Vinnie smirks. He pulls his fingers out of her and strips his own pants off, sitting on the couch. “Come,” he holds his arms open for her to straddle him.

She moves from the arm of the couch with shaky legs and positions herself over Vinnie’s cock, gripping his shoulder tight.

“Sit down,” he says, sounding like he’s half annoyed at having to instruct her. She’s not sure what to expect next and while it’s exciting, it’s also intimidating.

She grabs his cock in her hand to hold him in place as she lowers herself down, moaning at the feeling. She’s never fucked him before but can’t say she’s never thought about it, and he’s bigger than she expected.

He grips her ass, holding her still with her hips on his. “Good girl. You wanna take us both at the same time?”

“H-How?” She asks.

“How do you think?”

She blushes at his words, not sure if she’s embarrassed by his tone of voice making her feel stupid or if she’s just overwhelmed with everything.

She looks back at Ben who’s managed to place his hands on her hips from behind without her even realizing. “Um…” she breathes heavily. “I can try. I wanna try.”

“You sure?” Vinnie says.

She nods. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he pulls her forward a little more and looks at him. “Lube’s in the dresser, you wanna go get it?”

Ben nods and walks off leaving her and Vinnie alone. She rests her head on his shoulder and starts to grind against him, desperate for some kind of friction while they wait.

He takes his arms off of her her, letting her do what she wants on his cock. “I gotta be honest, I’m surprised you wanted to do this,” he smiles.

She moans softly, unsure what to say. She’s just as surprised as he is. “Me too.”

He chuckles and starts to move her hips. “You seem so innocent on the surface.”

She picks up her speed getting the most delicious feeling every time he brushes against her g-spot.

“Guess you’re not though. If I had known, we would’ve done this a lot sooner,” he thrusts up, meeting each of her movements. “You ever done this before?”

“A threesome?” She asks softly.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiles and kisses her neck.

Ben comes back around the corner, already having the condom on and coating himself with the lube. He walks right over to them and lines himself up with her back entrance. “You ready?”

She takes a deep breath and tightens her grip on Vinnie’s shoulders. “Yeah. Go easy at first, please.”

“Of course,” he places one foot on the couch and starts to push into her.

She hisses as the feeling, being stretched out more than she’s ever been before. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” Vinnie coddles her.

She nods. “Yeah.”

After a few more moments, both of them are bottomed out inside of her. Ben grabs her hair tightly in his fist, pulling her head back.

“Bounce, slut” he demands.

She starts to bend her knees and flex her thighs as much as she can but she can’t find the stamina or mobility to move much.

“Oh come on,” Vinnie smacks her ass and she whimpers. “You can do better than that.”

“I -“ she starts to talk but Vinnie cuts her words off by shoving two of his fingers into her mouth.

“Don’t say you can’t,” he says coldly.

She stays quiet and moves her hands to his chest and props herself on her feet to give herself some more leverage to move.

Finally, she starts to get some rhythm, earning a smile and a kiss on cheek from Vinnie. “Good girl.”

“Knew you could do it,” Ben praises her.

“Look at you, working hard for us,” Vinnie starts to thrust upwards, making her arch her back against Ben.

“Fuck,” she groans. Her hands move to Vinnie’s hands, interlacing their fingers to keep herself propped up.

A wide smile spreads across his face, admiring her flushed cheeks and the way her face looks right now - eyebrows pulled together, mouth stuck open, eyelids barely able to stay open.

Ben starts to move, finally signaling that she can stop moving and let them take over. His hand releases her hair and wraps around her throat, lightly cutting off her blood supply. “God, you’re f-fucking tight,” he groans against her ear.

“Fu - I…” she squeaks, but can’t get a full sentence out.

“You’re taking us so good,” Vinnie says, taking one of her nipples into his mouth again.

Ben releases her throat and grabs her chin, tilting her head back. He kisses her neck as he starts to really go in on her, prompting Vinnie to start moving faster too.

“Oh! God,” she moans, squeezing Vinnie hands tighter in pure euphoria.

Vinnie pulls one of his hands from hers and moves it to her clit, rubbing it in tight and hard circles. The stimulation on her tits, her neck, her clit, and being filled by both of them makes her mind go completely blank, unable to even think anymore as she melts into them both.

Almost instantly he feels herself edging closer to the edge and within seconds she’s cumming all over them, harder than she’s ever came in her life.

Her moans are loud and full of power and desperation in the same breath with no regard to her other friends that might be walking through the door any moment to see her like this - all dignity gone. Hell, at this point, she’d probably even let them watch if they wanted to.

“Fucking hell, y/n,” Vinnie pulls away from her tit and moans, feeling her pulse around him and soak the base of his cock all the way to the cushions beneath them. “Yeah, let it all out. Cumming like the fucking whore you are, aren’t you? Making a mess on me and the couch.”

His words don’t register with her, she’s too far gone at this point to understand anything else that’s going on. She falls back down on to his chest, resting her open mouth on his shoulder.

“Nah. Keep your head up,” Ben pulls her hair back again, and lays a sharp smack to her face. “Not done with you yet.”

“Let’s flip her. I want a turn in that pretty mouth,” Vinnie says.

They both pull out of her and Ben pulls his condom off, tossing it to the side with no care and then pulls her off the couch. “On the ground.”

She drops without hesitation, feeling the cold hard wood floors digging into her knees and making her shift a little in discomfort.

She takes Vinnie’s cock in her hands, pumping him lightly and using her previous release as lube on him.

“You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” Ben spreads her legs with his knees and slides himself inside of her, both of them moaning.

“Yeah she does,” Vinnie chimes in, gathering her hair in a ponytail.

She blushes at the compliment and smiles. She wraps her lips around Vinnie’s tip, sucking lightly and running her tongue around it in circles. He moans and leans his head back against the couch, letting her do whatever she wants to him.

Ben starts thrusting, hitting her sensitive spot over and over again. It’s all she can do to keep her eyes from rolling back.

She pushes her mouth down more until Vinnie hits the back of her throat, making her drool down her chin.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Pretty girl,” he moans, hissing at the sight of her right now. “So god damn good.”

His words encourage her to pick up her pace, bobbing her head fast before she pulls him out with a popping sound. She licks down from the tip of him to the base and takes his balls into her mouth, sucking gently as she pumps him with a slight twisting motion.

She smiles, feeling his cock bounce in her hands from excitement and then takes him back in her mouth again.

“Touch yourself,” Ben says harshly, smacking her ass.

She moves her hand to her clit and starts to rub, quick and hard making her eyes finally roll back.

She knows she must look a mess right now, she can feel the mascara burning her eyes and her hair in sticking to her sweaty forehead but the thought of it does nothing but bring a smile to her face.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon,” Ben groans.

“Me too. Can’t hold back much longer, princess,” Vinnie says.

She pulls her mouth off Vinnie again but keeps her hand busy on him. “Want you b-both… cum on me,” she stutters between breaths.

“In you or on you?” Vinnie asks.

“Both,” she moans.

With that, Vinnie moves off the couch and Ben pulls out of her. “Get on the couch,” Ben says.

She stands with unsteady legs and lays on her back against the cushions.

Vinnie moves between her legs, running his cock up and down her slit. “Where exactly do you want it, baby? Show us.”

Opens her mouth and points down.

“Both places?”

She nods, mouth still open. Vinnie smiles and slides himself back into her as Ben climbs beside her, lining himself up with her mouth as he strokes himself.

Vinnie rubs her clit with his thumb as he thrusts into her in deep, hard, and slightly unsteady strokes. The anticipation of both of them finishing pushes her over the edge again almost instantly as filthy moans tear from her throat.

“Fuck!” Vinnie throws his head back, her clenching pussy being too much for him to hold back anymore and he fills her with half of his cum before pulling out and finishing the job on her stomach and the outside of her pussy.

Her mouth starts to close as her body stays tensed and Ben taps her face lightly with his free hand. “Open,” he moans.

She opens again and looks up at him just in time to watch him finish in her mouth, his cum coating her tongue and dripping down her chin to her chest, some even getting in her hair.

She swallows every bit of what landed in her mouth, then gathered the rest of both Vinnie’s and his on her fingers before sucking them clean.

They both watch her with a smile. “We really should do this more often,” Vinnie chuckles.

Before she gets the chance the say anything, their attention is drawn to the front door nob turning. Her eyes widen and her stomach drops as she fully realizes what just happened the humiliation she’s surely going to feel being caught like this.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

[milliedazzledust]

Somewhere Only We Know (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @the-craziestone story about Bucky x Reader, where Bucky is really obsessed with Reader - But not in a creepy way, more like he's really really in love with her and he can only see her, like she's his world Anon: can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like

Words: 2943

A/N: this is pure fluff with no warning, also I changed a tiny bit the second request to fit the story - enjoy ;)

He couldn’t explain the sadness he constantly felt every time he was walking through the streets of the city he used to know by heart. A stranger in a strange land was the best way to describe him. More than seventy years had passed, and he hadn’t witnessed any changes. While he had been a puppet deprived of freewill and controlled with the sole purpose of killing, he had missed the birth of a whole new world. Now, as he strode around the streets, he could easily remember each of their names, but none of them were familiar. His mind remained in the 1940’s and in the middle of the noises, surrounded by the sound of first responders vehicles, the children running around and cars piling up on the road, he was a stranger in his own home. It was an unsettling feeling, a pining melancholy that reminded him in every step he made that his Brooklyn didn’t exist anymore. 

He was furious in a way, but mostly confused. Haunted by memories he had gotten back a second ago, and they didn’t fit this new reality. He wasn’t even nostalgic, but the loneliness was getting heavier every day. He could still picture the park he used to take his sister, the alley where Steve had gotten beaten up one day, the bakery his mother used to go to every morning. Treasure of souvenirs he would keep forever. And although the park, the alley and the streets names were still here, he was left alone walking down Brooklyn. 

“Hey, Y/N!” He heard a voice shouting. “Where do I put those ?” 

His head mechanically turned to a young boy carrying a heavy box of what looked like antics. Without thinking he crossed the road and when his eyes laid on the small shop, he gasped. There it was, one small piece of his past still here. It was an old bookstore he used to go to with his sister. The man, a friend, an immigrant from France with a thick accent, would let them stay for hours. Bucky loved reading to Rebecca. They would sit inside and she’d insist to hear The Hobbit. François, the man owning the store, would make coffee and stay with them, relating the stories he had heard around the world, telling them all about the France he had known. It was all still here. ‘Au Nom de la Rose’ was still here. 

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed inside the place, an honest smile on his face. His eyes roamed over the room and he took a deep breath. It was just like he remembered, a place filled with murmurs and whispers floating above his head and through the roof, indistinct conversations between friends, huge windows bringing in a powerful light at this hour of the day, plants in almost every corner. Even the atmosphere was the same, this powerful smell of imagination coming from the laying books on the shelves, begging to be read, mixing with a distinct smell coming from the dust. The small couch and the old table he used to sit by with his sister were also there. The wooden pieces had many rough and sharp edges but looked just as smooth and clean as he remembered. Finally, his eyes landed on a woman there. He watched her rearranging a bouquet of daffodils, breathing in the perfume of the vibrant flowers as she tended to them meticulously. 

For some reason, he couldn’t look away. She felt familiar, like he had known her all his life, yet he had never seen her before. When she turned around he took an instinctive step toward her. She noticed, raised her head and that was the moment their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. He stood, frozen on the spot, staring at her. He couldn’t comprehend that instant connection. There was an inexplicable sense of excitement yet weird feeling that they had known each other forever, that they were meeting each other again after a long journey. He was transfixed, almost stuck by the confusing mixture of emotions but oddly comforted by them - all at the same time. 

“Can I help you ?” She asked him.

He surprised himself thinking there was something eerily calming about her voice, that he could listen to her for hours.

“Do I know you ?” He quickly wondered out loud, mentally facepalming himself for his lack of tact. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question ?”

“Why ?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes” She grinned.

“I’m … I’m sorry” He apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Look weird ?” 

He could swear his heart skipped a beat when he heard her laugh.

“This place is beautiful”

“Thank you” 

“How long have you been working here ?”

“Forever” She smirked. “The store belongs to my family. Passed on from generation to generation” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“You’re related to François Y/L/N ?” He questioned.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“Now I’m intrigued” She told him. “How do you know about my grandfather ?” 

“We’ve met,” He answered without thinking. He rapidly realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes in utter curiosity. “I … I didn’t mean … I mean … It was … It was a long time ago”

He gulped, hoping she wouldn’t push it. She looked him up and down, assessing him. 

“What’s your name, weirdo ?” She inquired, giving him a skeptical glance.

“Bucky. M’am” 

She smirked.

“Let me guess, a soldier ?” 

“How … ?” 

“You all have the same manners, and the same eyes”

“What do you mean ?”

She was now standing in front of him, staring at his face with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

“You carry the same sadness and the horror you’ve seen” She replied honestly. “My father was a lot like that too” 

Her answer had the effect of a punch in the gut he hadn’t been expecting. He felt naked under her gaze, a stranger with the power to see through his soul.

“I’m Y/N” She introduced herself, raising her hand to shake his.

It was rare for him to smile truthfully but the unexpected bliss slowly growing made his lips twitch before he could even acknowledge it.

“Hi, Y/N” He greeted her.

She chuckled, amused. 

“Hi, Bucky” She murmured. 

After that encounter, he made a point of coming back as much as he could. He stayed for hours sitting on the couch, reading the same book over and over again. They shared quick words but he didn’t dare to start up a conversation, too afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, something that would scare her away. He was content like this. There was no Winter Soldier, no war, no fight, no one else than Bucky. Being next to this girl was in itself a medication for him. It made no sense but she was so bright and radiant. Like a magnet, he was sucked into an invisible gravitational pull toward her.

By the second week of him coming into the store, she started to notice the small marks of attention. He would come so silently she wouldn’t hear a thing, bringing a fresh cup of coffee he would lay on her counter when she wasn’t looking, replacing the daffodils before they could fade, carrying the heavy boxes filled with new books. When she wasn’t working, she would grab something to read and sit next to him. They would exchange a smile but wouldn’t talk. The proximity was enough. Their presence was louder than any word. A quiet routine they were slowly creating. 

By the fourth month, nothing had changed and that day was no different. Rain was pouring outside and the store was empty, except for Y/N and Bucky. Just as usual, he was reading in a corner while she was working. New stacks of books had arrived and she was methodically putting them on the shelves. Standing on a ladder, on the tip of her toes, she was so focused on the task she had failed to notice the soldier walking up to her. 

“Do you need any help ?” He offered. 

Surprised to hear his voice so close to her, she lost her balance and slipped. She yelped as her ankle hit one side of the ladder and automatically closed her eyes, anticipating the fall. She tried to brace herself but before her body could touch the ground she felt something cold holding her waist. Suddenly, instead of laying on the floor, she was against his hard chest, in a protective embrace. She recognized his arms around her and shivered at the odd coldness. He  felt it immediately and was quick to put some distance between them, making sure his metal arm was no more on her body and only his human hand was steadying her. 

“Are you alright ?” He questioned. She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was hurt when she heard how worried he sounded. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine”

He looked skeptic but didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologetically told her.

He took the books scattered on the ground, putting them away, and helped her walk to the couch.

“You know, if the goal was to literally make me fall for you, I’d say you did a pretty good job there” She flirted, making him chuckle. 

He sat on the table in front of her and grabbed her calve, gently laying her leg on his thigh to assess the damage. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blushing. It made him insanely happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness. They tried not to look at one another, too embarrassed by the situation. This was the closest they had ever been and the touch on his skin on hers was more than enough to make her heart ready to jump out of her chest. When he clasped her injured ankle, she cried and instinctively pushed him back. 

“Fine, huh ?” He repeated her own words with a smirk.

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal, Bucky” She reassured him. “I’ve got to get back to work”

“You’re not moving from this couch” He ordered.

“Is that an order, soldier ?” She ironically threw at him, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You bet it is”

She watched him, intrigued, as he stood up and piled up some books on the table to put her ankle to rest on it. 

“No moving around, got it ?” He made sure she would follow his advice.

“Aye, aye, Captain”

He chuckled 

“Technically speaking, I’m not a Captain” He confessed as he continued what she had been doing earlier and started putting the books carefully on the right shelves. 

“Would you have preferred Sergeant ?” She replied, bitting her lips, unsure this was the wrong moment to admit she knew who he was.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around to stare at her.

“What did you say ?” He asked, more scared than ever.

Up until that moment, he had avoided telling her who he was. Becoming part of the Avengers meant his identity wasn’t a secret anymore, and although he had done a terrific job staying hidden among the mass of people, it wouldn’t have taken more than a little push to find who he really was. He stood in front of her, frozen, not having a clue how to react.

“Sergeant Barnes, isn’t it ?” She sounded nervous, almost frightened to say his name out loud.

“I… “ He tried to say anything, but as the rain kept pouring outside, slowly turning into a thunderstorm, he blankly stared back.

“Would you have told me ?” She whispered.

“Eventually”

She humorlessly snorted. 

“We’ve known each other for more than three months, Bucky. I see you practically every day. Be honest, eventually would’ve never come” 

“It’s not like that” He tried to explain.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry” She sadly smiled. “I just wish… I guess I wish you could’ve trust me” 

He rubbed his jaw in frustration and made a step toward her. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly took the glove off, revealing his metal hand. Still, he didn’t look at her, too afraid of her reaction. The cold metal had never felt so hot against his skin, a burning reminder of the stranger he had become.

“I didn’t want you to be scared,” He admitted in a broken voice. 

“Of you ?” She was surprised. “Why would I be ?”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that ?” 

“You don’t understand…”

“The red box under the counter” She interrupted him. “Can you take it for me ? And turn the sign of the shop, we’re closed.”

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she said anyway. He locked the front door and took the box she asked for before walking to her and putting it directly in her hands.

“Sit” She instructed him.

He didn’t dare to stay near her and chose to stay on an opposite chair.

“I found this a little after you and I met” She told him, motioning to the box. “It was in the basement, hidden under old junks my parents had kept over the years”

He let her speak, not understanding where this was going or why she was telling him about that. She slowly opened the mystery box and took a small envelope out of it. It looked old, so old the paper had turned into a deep shade of yellow.

“My grandfather wrote this” She confessed. “In 1957. It’s addressed to Bucky and Rebecca Barnes. I believe it belongs to you” 

She handed him the letter that he took with shaky hands.

“How did you… ?” He started to ask.

“It was a long shot,” She explained. “The first time you were here, you said my grandfather's name like it meant something to you. Like you really knew him. When I found the box, and the envelope, I didn’t make the connection with you right away. But your name was all I needed to start my research. My parents kept pretty much everything so it didn’t took me too long to find an old photo with you and him, back in the 1930′s” 

He wasn’t moving at all when she showed him a picture François had taken of them right before he was enlisted. 

“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, I guess. I mean, you have enough ghosts as it is”

“Still not scared ?” He inquired in a humorless chuckle.

“Not one bit” She didn’t hesitate to reply.

She softly smiled and motioned for him to come closer. When he sat next to her, she moved the box from her lap to his. 

“We were friends, François and I” He recalled, his eyes glued on the letter. “He was married to Eloise. This bookstore was their treasure. He kept repeating that I shouldn’t go to war when I could stay hidden under the pages of books that would take me around the world without risking my life”

She took his metal palm between her fingers when she heard his voice breaking. He almost tried to remove it but she tightly entwined their hands together.

“Maybe he was right” He muttered under his breath.

“Or maybe you and I were meant to meet almost a century later” She shrugged.

He snorted before turning around the envelope to open it. Y/N gently laid her head against his shoulder and let him read in silence. She didn’t move when she felt his body shaking with tears but only held his hand harder.

“They’re originals, from 1954 I think. He kept them for you” She told him as he slowly took what was in the red box. A set of three old books. “Why Lord of the Rings, though ?” 

He laughed,sniffing, before brushing the tears off his face and staring down at the woman. At that very moment, he felt like the journey was done. His soul had stopped the search it had been on for a time that felt like forever. Like a century. 

“My sister and I, we used to come here often,” He said in a melancholic grin. Sorrow was finally starting to be replace by something much better, happiness. “We would sit on this very couch and she would make me read the Hobbit. She used to love that story so much.”

“How many times has she make you read it ?” The woman smirked.

“Enough to remember every single word” He exaggerated, making her giggle. “When I told François I was leaving, he said he would send me books to help me travel away from the war, even just for a moment. I guess he kept them, hoping I would come back. Even after I was declared dead” 

“Maybe deep down he knew you weren’t”

“And he planned this whole meeting with his granddaughter ?” He ironically added.

“Oh no, that was beyond him. That was fate, Barnes”

“I was meant to find you” He agreed, a deep feeling of love and utter contentment forming in his heart. He bent his head down and let all he needed to say be spoken through the kiss they shared. 

“Will you read it to me ?” She playfully requested.

Overflowed with joy, he smirked and kissed her forehead before opening the old book on his lap. There it was, the only choice he needed to make. The only home he had yearn to create. Her. 

[for-fucks-sake-h]

At My Weakest - three

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.4k | story page 

“I am summer... yearning for a drop of your rain.” 

   - Gemma Troy 

“Fucking finally,” Harry growled, his body shooting forward to press Gianna against the kitchen counter.

She was equally fervent, gripping into the collar of that god forsaken polka dot shirt like her life depended on it, tasting his kiss like it was her first meal after starving.

That’s what it felt like; like she was starving for him. For the sounds he made, for his skin under her palms, for that excruciating push of his cock inside her. Every single part of him only made her crave more.

“Thought she’d never leave,” Gianna gasped as her head fell back on her neck.

Harry’s mouth took no pause in finding its way to the soft skin of her throat, sucking kiss after kiss to her racing pulse.

He squeezed her hips tightly, pulling her even closer as his mouth trailed down her neck and chest. She felt like the most comfortable blanket, soft and pillowy in every way, every single curve of her body driving him mad.  

When she slipped out from his insistent crowding, and her fingers latched into the open buttons of his shirt, he followed her without thought. Let her lead him down the hall, fingers still gripping to her, mouth still attempting to find any piece of skin he could.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Gianna flippantly commented on the oversized pink polka dots as they stumbled into his bedroom, Harry slamming the door closed behind them.

Her fingers moved at lightning speed to get every button open, pushing the pink fabric from his shoulders as soon as she could. She could pretend like she really thought it was ridiculous all she wanted, but she knew deep down that he could wear anything and make it look good.

That wasn’t something she either noticed or cared about before. It was unnerving the way she looked at him now, how the sliver of his chest caught her eye the moment she saw him, how it sent a blazing spike of heat down her spine just from a glimpse of his skin.  Maybe it was because she knew what it felt like beneath her fingers now, the feel of his skin overtop the supple yet firm expanse of his chest was now ingrained in her mind with nowhere to go, no outlet, no escape.  

Harry shook his arms loose from the fabric and no sooner did the shirt hit the floor did he have both hands gripping her - one on the smallest part of her soft waist and the other wrapped against her jaw, angling her face up to his.

“That why you were eyeing me up back there?” The words were spoken low in Harry’s throat, timbre deep as he looked down at her with blazing eyes.

It was amazing really, the way the green would change right before her eyes. She’d noticed it before. It was as if every time he looked at her for more than a few seconds, his irises would dilate and the green and gold specks would illuminate so bright she had to look away.

Except for now. Now she bathed in it, silently begging for it to swallow her whole.

She didn’t bother with a response, instead leaned up slowly, eyes steady on his as she torturously closed every inch between them. Until her lips were encased in soft pink warmth and her body melted.

He wrapped her up in him, pulled her so close she felt like she could barely breathe, like she was suffocating from the scent of his shampoo and buttery softness of his lips. And she welcomed it. Adored it, longed for it, begged for more. She couldn't get close enough, and it felt like a sin to have to separate long enough for them to pull their clothes off. Her shirt, her pants, his pants, her bra, his boxers, all falling to the floor one after another until he was mercifully tugging her underwear down her thighs as his tongue slipped along her bottom lip.      

Gianna’s squeal of a giggle was rambunctious in comparison to the growl that escaped Harry’s throat when he practically tackled her onto his bed, immediately sinking into the mattress - sinking into eachother’s warmth and eagerness.  

Her hands raked through his hair when he kissed across her jaw, nipping softly on his way down her chest. She arched into him, back curving off the mattress in an attempt to get closer, until his mouth circled her nipple so delicately she felt like her skin could crawl off.  But when his warm tongue smoothed over her nipple, flicking the peak over and over again, she was all breathless moans and gripping hands.

And that was the thing about Harry, he loved it. Wanted more sounds slipping from her perfect lips, wanted her to tug on his hair harder, wanted her hips twitching off the mattress more than she could bear.  

He looked up at her, enamored with the way her chin was tilted back, her neck and jaw tight and on display, her breath visibly escaping her heaving chest when his hand slipped down her body to find its way between the hot skin of her thighs.  

Her moan was like a song he couldn’t stop playing, a melody he hummed to himself without even noticing, that’s how much it was intricately rooted in his brain.  He wanted to hear it as much as possible, over and over, louder and louder. He got inklings of it when he teased her, snippets when his mouth tormented her, and a smooth, keening noise fell from her lips when his middle finger slipped inside her.  A hook, a twist and a steady, slow pump had her hips moving with him, following every movement like a carefully choreographed dance.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Harry murmured against her chest, his tongue sweeping out over her nipple once more.  

Her nails scratched against his scalp in response, her moan sending another wave of fire across his skin.  He pushed himself up onto his forearm, eyes entranced with every curve of her body, flicking wildly from the blissful look on her face to the way her hips rolled against the mattress as he eased another finger inside her.  

“Please…” she breathed, one hand gripping to the bed sheet while the other squeezed tighter to a handful of his roots.  

Her back arched further, her hips stilling for a moment as he curled his fingers deeper and stopped, hooking them in a way that had her head going fuzzy.  He remained completely still, breath caught in his throat as she swirled her hips before angling down on his fingers further.  He was mesmerized, watching in awe as she practically grinded down on his fingers, her hips making patterns against his mattress.

“There you go,” he encouraged her softly, eyes trained on every move she made. “That’s it, love. Mhm, there you go.” His voice was so low he didn’t even recognize it. It was like he could barely get the words out but couldn’t stop from saying them.      

It was like something switched for him in that moment. He’d give this girl anything she wanted, fill any desire she had, if it meant keeping her there. He’d never had that before; to have someone in his bed and be thinking about how he could get her to stay within his sheets after the high had been chased.

A whine crawled up his throat at the thought, completely taking him off guard. He pressed his forehead into her sternum, somehow feeling her heart hammering through her skin. Maybe it was his imagination - his foggy, desire filled thoughts playing tricks on him.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he could feel her heart beating for him in a way that was more than just lust, more than whatever pleasure he was giving her.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice like honey whenever her lips caressed his name.

He pressed his forehead into her chest more, tongue languidly lapping out to taste her skin. He couldn’t stop from planting wet kisses against her trembling frame, his laps laying her heart for a moment, as if he could absorb her rhythmic heartbeat to match his own.

And then all he could do was slither down her body, catching the way her hips arched up to him to meet his greedy mouth, tongue licking fully through her wet folds with no preamble.

He moaned when she moaned, tasting her fully and breathless asking for more.

“Yeah, go on,” he mumbled against her clit, groaning harshly when her hands pulled tighter on his hair, her hips rolling on their own accord.

“Oh my,” she breathed, her words cutting off with a gasping moan.

Harry gripped Gianna’s hips in his hands, encouraging her to grind against his mouth more. “Fuck my face,” he demanded, his words coating her sensitive skin like a promise.

“God, fuck,” she cursed under her breath, shaking as he licked against her once more.

She lifted her head from the mattress in time to see him pulling away, a small whine emitting from her throat as he moved away.

“Come on. Do it right,” he spoke eagerly as he laid back, his hands grabbing at any part of her he could. “Fuck my face.”  

The devilish smile pulling at her lips did nothing but ignite the fire in the pit of Harry’s stomach, every inch of his skin tingling as he watched her pull up from the bed to crawl over him, legs straddling his waist for a moment as her face hovered over his.

“Who are you,” she murmured, obviously not really caring for a reply before her full lips were pressed against his in a slow kiss, her tongue sweeping against his only to taste herself.

Harry’s hands smoothed over her waist, trailing down her hips until he could grip the supple flesh of her thighs, his fingers digging in harder than ever.

Everything she did made him hotter than the moment before, his body blazing beneath her as he guided her up his chest until her knees planted on either side of his head.

He couldn’t take it, she was moving too slow; he needed her on his tongue again. So with a gentle squeeze and tug against her hips, her knees slid apart the inch needed for him to lift his head from the mattress and find her delicate skin, warm and wet and waiting for him.

Her gasp was all the encouragement he needed to pull her down fully on him, until every inch of his mouth and chin was covered in her desire. He gripped her hips tighter, lapping across her clit over and over as she moaned.

One hand pressed against the small of her back, the other splaying out across the soft skin of her lower stomach until his thumb could find her clit and his tongue could press into her fully.

“Shit,” Gianna gasped, one of her hands pushing roughly through the top of his hair as the other gripped at one of his wrists.

“Mhm,” Harry hummed against her core as she found her perfect rhythm - until she was rolling her hips without any second thought, grinding against his mouth and chin, chasing her high.

Maybe this is what real bliss was, he thought.  A woman doing exactly what she wants with you.

He could tell when her high took over, ripping through her body until she was trembling over him, legs twitching and shaking as she pressed him further into the mattress by his hair, the sounds slipping from her throat paired with her orgasm coating his tongue only making him throb harder.

She practically collapsed over him, one of her hands still in his hair as her other caught her upper half from falling completely. She eased onto the bed beside him, and like a moth to a flame, he followed, rolling onto his side, his face in line with her stomach.

“Fuck,” she breathed as he pressed his lips just below her belly button, sucking kisses being planted on her overly warm skin - her hip, her waist, her breast, her neck - making his way up her body until he reached her face.

She kissed him when his lips found hers, sucking his plush bottom lip into her mouth easily as her hand cupped the side of his neck.

“Your mouth is…” she started as her fingers trailed down his body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. And she may have finished her sentence, but Harry couldn’t be sure with the ringing in his ears just as her hand found his length.

He may have been embarrassed by the noise that escaped his throat when she wrapped her fingers around him if he was in any stable state of mind. But he wasn’t. All of his thoughts were of her and the pleasure coursing through his body.

He couldn’t get enough, and he couldn’t keep up with her - completely overwhelmed.

No sooner was she kissing his mouth before she was kissing his tip, a groan pulling from deep in his chest as his back met the mattress and her warm mouth encased him.

“G,” he breathed, his fingers fisting through his own hair once and twice as she bobbed on him. “Love,” he moaned as she sucked, one of his hands finding the back of her head weakly, fingers scratching against her scalp to pull her attention back to him.

She pulled off his length with a gentle pop, looking up at him with swollen, overly bitten lips and dazed eyes.

“You’re gonna make me explode,” he chuckled weakly, begging his eyes to stay open and on her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and somehow she was in his bed, giving him more pleasure than he deserved.

Her lips curled into a self assured smile as she crawled up his body. “That’s the point,” she whispered as her lips found his once more, her core lining up with his length perfectly.

He kissed her back with a moan, heat prickling his skin everywhere she touched. Her wet core brushed his length over and over again as her lips smoothed over his, until he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to guide himself into her when she pressed back into him again.

It was slow, the way their bodies connected fully as they moaned into each other’s mouths. They both ached for that feeling in the same way, gripping hands and contented sighs falling from their lips as they melted into each other with ease.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” Harry whispered against her mouth, the words spilling from his lips without thought.

Gianna moved over him with a lazy roll of her hips, wanting nothing more than to let herself infinitely mold to him.

“Good...” she moaned as she pushed herself up, her hands planting themselves on the strongest part of his chest, her hair curtaining around her face as she rode him harder, “don’t.”  

Her words were simple, but they didn’t need to be any more than that. Harry could hear it in her tone; he knew that she was guarded and working against it. And how could she not be. He understood. But when they were like this, she didn’t feel closed off. It was like she couldn't stop herself, like her ribcage opened, exposing her vulnerable, overly beating heart.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping her sides, her hips, the fullness of her ass, eyes traveling over her in awe. He reached up quickly, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to him and meet her mouth with needy lips.  

She kissed him feverishly, moaning into his mouth with every thrust of her hips. Her hands found his throat, cupping each side lightly at first, before her grip tightened a bit, and then a bit more, and then a tiny bit more than that.  

He gasped around a groan as his eyes rolled closed, his hips helplessly meeting hers as he came, a sound similar to a muffled shout slipping past his lips.  She watched him ride out his high, his face relaxing from crinkled brows to a lazy, blissed out smile.

He was gorgeous.    

She smothered him completely, his arms instantly wrapping around her waist to keep her close.  

“You’re fucking amazing,” he murmured into the skin of her neck, the scent of her shampoo making him feel like he was high. Maybe he was... completely and totally high on her.  

She hummed as she raked her fingers through the side of his sweaty hair, the contentness of his arms around her that tightly doing more than she knew it could.  

When Gianna cuddled further into the soft sheets that surrounded her, she expected a warm body to also be encasing her.  

Instead, the sheets were crinkled beside her, empty, the room still dark from the night.  She could hear muffled voices coming from the apartment. Harry’s bedroom door was cracked open, the light from the kitchen visible.  

She creeped out of his bed, tip-toeing across the room to stand by the door and peek through the opening.  

He was arguing, she could tell by his rushed words without being able to make out what he was saying.

“Don’t be stupid, Harry.”

That was Gemma, and for whatever reason, her words made Gianna’s heart plummet. She knew they were talking about her, how could they not be.

Gianna never slept in his room, for the weeks that their thing was going on, she always snuck out of his room at some point. And for this exact reason.

“Okay, Gem,” he said sarcastically. “Gonna go to bed now, if that’s alright.”  

Gianna moved away from the door, rushing back into his bed, purposely facing away from his side of the bed when she laid down.

He crept in moments later, a sigh escaping his lips once his door was pushed closed. Gianna tried to even her breathing despite her racing heart, listening as he walked over to the bed, a couple of beats passing before he was sliding in beside her. He released another sigh once he was laying down, the bed moving as he presumably turned onto his side.

It was quiet then, Gianna keeping perfectly still as she breathed softly, her thoughts racing still even as her heart slowed. She didn’t need to know the whole conversation to know Gemma didn’t like what was going on between them. She assumed the protective sister in her came out, and Gianna couldn’t really blame her. She had baggage, and a lot of it. Nothing good could come from this, whatever it was.    

But even though Gianna knew she was playing with fire, she wanted to be burned.  

And then Harry’s arm wrapped around her waist to pull her into his waiting chest, as if he could hear her thoughts.  

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry eased when she startled at his touch. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered as she settled against him, his knee finding its way between her legs as he held her close, his body easily melting against hers once more.

Harry fell asleep almost instantly. Gianna took quite a bit longer before her drowsiness finally pulled her under.  

“Friday?” Gemma asked with wide eyes. “That’s so soon, babe.”  

Gianna nodded from where she leaned over the kitchen counter, finishing a piece of pizza over the open box, still in her work clothes sans heels.  

“I know, but it was available now so I figured I should jump on it before someone else did.”

After the night she overheard Harry and Gemma arguing, Gianna couldn’t find her own place fast enough. It was time - she had overstayed her welcome on Harry and Gemma’s couch.

If anything, she thought maybe she overstayed her welcome in Harry’s bed, too. 

As an easy fix, she went on the hunt for her own place and luckily enough, found something she liked that she could afford on her own and could move into in less than a week.  

She didn’t want things to get weird between her and Harry, or her and Gemma.  Gianna had known them for a long time, and they were there for her through everything with Steve - took her in with no questions.  She would be lucky to sneak out of all this with no damage.  

So she signed a lease and would be moving out of their place in two days. She knew it was fast, but truly thought it was for the best.

“Did you tell Harry?”  

Gianna internally winced, careful not to show a reaction as she brushed her hands together over the pizza box before turning her back to Gemma to wash her hands.  

“Not yet, I haven’t seen him the last couple days. Work’s been crazy busy.”  

The truth was, Gianna was actively working late to avoid him. By the time she got home the last few nights, she would be so tired that she passed out on the couch. It was effective - Harry usually went to bed early and was up way before her in the mornings - making their paths uncrossable.

“Well, you should let him know soon.”

Gemma’s features were soft when Gianna turned back to her. There was something behind Gemma’s eyes, like she had a secret, but she didn’t expand any further.

And Gianna thought about the look on her face for the rest of the evening. While she cleaned up the kitchen, while she showered, while she got herself situated on the couch at nearly 1AM.  

Harry’s bedroom door hadn’t even cracked open, not even a sound coming from the room since Gianna had gotten home. She contemplated going in there, sneaking in and just slipping into his bed and his warm embrace. But she stopped herself. Soon enough she wouldn’t have that luxury anyway so she might as well just get used to it.  

The truth was, and she wasn’t sure why, but she was afraid to tell Harry she was leaving. Maybe because she knew their little arrangement was coming to an end and she wasn’t ready for that to be a reality yet. Maybe deep down she knew she had let herself get too deep in it and now had to climb her way out. She liked Harry, she liked him too much.  

That was the thing about secrets, wasn’t it? They always found a way out.  

So two days later, after still having not told Harry that she was moving, Gianna felt like her stomach could fall right out of her body at the sight of him in the doorway of his room, quietly watching her collect the few random things that had found a home amongst his.

She was completely unaware that he had stood there for more minutes than he was even sure, watching her attach a hair clip to the bottom of her shirt, picking up her current read from the nightstand she had wordlessly taken over, a chapstick that she hadn’t minded sharing. He watched as her fingers slowly drifted over a stray tee shirt that hung from the back of his desk chair, seemingly lost in thought, before she decidedly plucked it from its place to claim it as her own.

She had claimed a lot of things hers in the time she spent hidden away in his bedroom.

Her small gasp seemed genuine, somehow not sensing his presence. That alone had Harry holding back a cryptic laugh, because he could feel her even when she was in a different room.

“You scared me,” she breathed with a hand over her chest.

“Sorry.”  

They wordlessly stared for a moment, eyes attempting to say things that neither of them had the courage to utter.

“Going somewhere?” Harry finally spoke, his tone cooler than ever.

And she hated that it effectively caused a chill to roll down her spine.

“I found a place.”  

Silence again, a small nod of understanding from Harry. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans before casually leaning against the door frame.

“Cool. Do you like it?”

He looked completely indifferent, making conversation like any other day. Except that they didn’t make small talk like this anymore. Many conversations had been held in his bedroom, some funny, some serious, some sexy, some dreamlike, and some so open that they practically hurt.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”  Gianna fiddled with the sleeve of her blouse, subconsciously pulling at the loose thread that hung from the seam.

“When do you move in?”

Gianna tried not to outwardly cringe. “Tonight.”  

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting… resistance? She couldn’t even explain why she should expect that from him other than simply wanting it. There was a part of her that just wanted him to want her to stay.

“That’s great, G. Congrats.”  

The resistance was surely nowhere in sight. Emotion, yearning, pensiveness - also nonexistent.

Gianna knew it wasn’t fair to want a reaction from Harry, but his passiveness was a stark difference from what she had seen from him as of late. But they did what they did, and now it was over. It wasn’t something that could have lasted forever, and that was never the intention anyway.

But as much as it was the right time for Gianna to move forward, she couldn’t help feeling like she was leaving him behind, regardless of him being okay with being left. He helped her in more ways than she could have explained, and for that fact alone, she’d miss their time together.

That wasn’t the only reason.

“Well, thanks for… everything.” Gianna watched every minute movement he made.

“Come on, I didn’t do anything,” Harry countered with a wave of his hand, eyes trailing across her face.

Gianna forced a small smile before choosing that moment to walk towards him and his bedroom door. Harry stood up straight in the doorway - that was as far as he could will his body to move. He wanted to give her a hug at least, he wanted to tell her that he would miss her, but all he did was stand there.

When Gianna leaned up to press the softest kiss to the corner of his mouth, lips like a flower brushing his skin, Harry’s breath caught in his throat, his heart beating so roughly that he was sure she could hear it.

“I’ll see ya around,” she murmured, her perfume caressing him the way her skin once had.

Harry moved into his room, silently sitting on the edge of his bed with a lump in his throat as he listened to the jingle of her keys lifting from the entry table bowl, his head hanging and his eyes drifting shut by the time the heavy door closed behind her.

a/n: Welcome back! I should be saying that to myself, I know lol. I’m honestly so happy I could get something out of my head. I really hope you enjoyed it. The literal biggest thanks to my girls @oh-honey-styles​ @andwhenshesays​ for inspiring me daily and giving me their unconditional support I love you both so much. Clink clink! Thank you to anyone that reads, it’s greatly appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts!  

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[natasha-romanoff-deserved-better]

The Day The Music Died

Summary:

“This’ll be the day that I die,” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told.

Natasha never wanted to hear that song again.

Word Count: 3437

Also on Ao3 here

~~~

Natasha stares at the bandages wrapped tightly around Clint’s left wrist, eyes locked in on the red spots where extra blood had been soaked up by the gauze. Clint’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, softly drumming along to the song playing from the radio as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the old back road.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, snapping Natasha out of her trance. Clint takes his eyes off the road for a second to catch her gaze. “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” It’s not going to change what happened, but he still tries. These types of missions were always hard on Natasha, and it’d only been made that much worse when one of the target’s bodyguards had managed to catch Clint’s forearm with a knife, dangerously close to critical veins. There had been a lot of blood and although Nat was easily able to stitch his skin back together, the close call had scared her - even if she refused to admit it out loud.

“I know you’re fine, idiot. It’s impossible to get rid of you.” She snorts and sends him a small smile. The radio cuts into a commercial, advertising their station and morning talk show before launching into another song.

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Natasha frowns at the song as an alarm bell begins to blare in the back of her head at the notes that drift out of the speakers. She furrows her eyebrows at it, a sinking feeling coming over her. Images from another time threaten to overtake her, and she’s too weak to stop them.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

A blonde little girl, only five years old, prances around the front yard. She’s barefoot and wearing her pink sparkly sundress, hair pulled up into pigtails as she tries to catch a ladybug. Natasha watches from her perch among the tree branches. Mom Melina is kneeled on the ground as she works on the garden in front of the house, planting new flowers to replace the dead ones. She’s brought her portable stereo out, sitting it on the porch and playing at full volume. Natasha isn’t even aware of what song is playing until Yelena is running up to the porch, begging her to play it again. Mom Melina does. And then plays it again with an amused smile and quirked eyebrow when Yelena asks for a third time. Yelena cheers with joy as it starts again and rises to her tip toes as she begins to twirl and dance to the music.

Nobody knows what it is about the song that Yelena likes so much, but she loves it. She constantly asks for it, so much so that Melina loads it onto a cassette tape and keeps it in the car just for her. Natasha doesn’t quite understand what most of the lyrics are talking about, but she decides she doesn’t mind the song for Yelena. In a way, it fits- Yelena is the picture perfect little all american girl, apple pie personified.

Natasha’s frozen in her seat. She pleads with herself to move, to turn off the radio. She doesn’t want to hear this. She knows what verses are coming next, and her breathing catches in her throat as they start. These words hold no comfort for her anymore.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Her sister’s high-pitched voice singing the words, a beat behind as she moves her hands cheerfully, lost in the rhythm of the song. She’s buzzing with excitement- ready for her promised big adventure, too young and oblivious to notice their parent’s anxiety or her sister’s internal crisis happening in the seat next to her. Natasha can’t look at her sister, she doesn’t want her to see the panic she knows is written over her face. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked out the window, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. The red, white, and blue lights that light up the night, the football game where a band plays and people cheer, the abundance of restaurants where families are sat enjoying dinner. The normalness of it all makes her angry - how can all these people be so casual when her world is falling apart at the seams? Yelena begins to sing the verse about dying, and it takes everything within Natasha to not snap at her. She can’t bear to listen to her little sister singing about dying, so blissfully unaware of the possibility of the verse becoming true at any moment now. Natasha should say something to her, tell her to stop, tell her what was happening. But the lure of pretending one last time is too great for her to give away. She doesn’t say anything.

Did you write the book of love

A photo album, thick with pictures of them all sit on the shelf. It’s Natasha’s favorite thing in the house, and she often sneaks out of bed to stare at the photos. Realistically, she knows they’re all fake. But if she tries hard enough, thinks long enough, she swears she can recall the events. Thanksgiving had been fun; the food had been the best she’d ever tasted. Their summer vacation had been at the beach, and she swears she can feel the sun warming her face and the sand between her toes.

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

She and Clint had gone to a church once, as part of an undercover mission. She’d ended up having to walk out in the middle of the service. It had been too much. She could never believe in it, even if she wanted to. No loving God would ever create the horrors she had seen before her 13th birthday or give her a family purely to steal it all away so violently.

Can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Natasha’s feet hit the ground, still en pointe, as she lands the perfect Grand Jete. She tosses her arms out in the landing pose and holds it for a second before excited clapping breaks her concentration. Yelena sits there, smiling wide as possible, clad in her own black leotard and pink tights. She’s in the younger classes, not as advanced as Natasha yet, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Yelena scrambles to her feet, crossing the floor to stand next to her sister.

“Teach me, teach me!”

It’s a complicated step, and Natasha knows she’s not ready for it just yet. She doesn’t want her to get hurt.

“I’ll teach you when you’re older, okay?” Yelena nods, and turns to the mirror, copying Natasha’s arm positions.

Natasha tries to force another breath into her lungs, but it’s harder now, her throat and chest constricted. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to block out the flashbacks that continue to assault her.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that’s not how it used to be.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen goddamn years since Natasha had seen her sister for the last time. She refuses to let herself think of what might have happened to her. It pains her to think of her baby sister, who had once been so full of life, in such a horrid place.

Natasha wraps her arms around herself, arms holding each other tightly. She digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to give herself something else to focus on and ground her. It doesn’t work.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the Levee was dry

Them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And signing this will be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Natasha doesn’t know how long they’ve been stuffed into this shipping container, crowded against a hundred other little girls. They’re all dirty, all starving, all terrified. The scent of sweat and urine threatens to suffocate them, the air hot and heavy.

She has tugged Yelena into her lap, arms protectively crossed over her torso to hold her close- hasn’t let go of her since the second they were put into here for fear of losing her amongst the other girls. She’s so tiny, and Natasha doesn’t trust any of the others.

Yelena stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips. Natasha tries to shush her gently, but it doesn’t work, and her sister keeps squirming. Her cries are starting to grow in volume, and one of the girls next to them sends them a dirty look.

“Yelena, Yelena. I’m here. You’re with me.” It’s the only words of comfort Natasha can offer her. She wishes she could tell her they were okay, that she was safe, that they were going to be fine. Instead, all she can do is assure her that her older sister had her. Yelena had stopped calling out for her mom a while ago, after her calls went unanswered and she finally realized no one was coming to rescue them. Natasha shifts them around, turning her back towards the others and away from prying eyes. Natasha turns Yelena on her lap, so that Yelena is facing her. “Yelena, look at me.”

Yelena shakes her head, so Natasha gently cups both sides of her face, titling her face up so that she has no choice. Yelena doesn’t resist, just locks her tear-filled eyes onto Natasha.

“I’m scared,” Yelena sobs through hitching breaths as her body trembles.

Natasha clutches her tighter and brings her closer, so close their noses are almost touching. “Don’t cry, Lena. Just sing with me.” Yelena frowns at her in confusion, and Natasha starts to sing under her breath, quietly, so that Yelena is forced to quite herself down and focus to hear the words.

She starts with the chorus, the part that Yelena knows and likes the best. “Bye, Bye, Miss American pie,” Natasha sings. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirks up in recognition. Nat pauses, prompting Yelena to sing the next line herself.

Her voice quivers, but she sings it anyways. “Drove my chevy to the levee…” Natasha nods in encouragement and joins her for the next verse. “But the levee was dry.” They sing the next few lines together. They near the last two lines of the chorus though, and this time, Natasha can’t allow her to sister to sing the last line. They hurt too much, they’re too real.

So she interrupts Yelena, skipping forward past the “Day that I die” line and jumping right into the next verse. Yelena doesn’t even question it, just follows her sister’s lead and allows herself to be completely absorbed in the whispered song.

Natasha sings almost the entire song to her sister, doing her best to remember as many lyrics as she could, and then starts over. She keeps singing, over and over again, until her voice starts to crack, and Yelena’s eyes are slipping closed in exhaustion.

“Tasha?” Clint calls, picking up the tension in his partner. She doesn’t respond, just stays frozen in her seat, locked in her own little world. “Hey,” He calls, a bit louder this time. He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her shoulder gently. “Nat. What’s going on?” She’s shaking.

Instead of answering, Natasha claps her hands over her ears and leans forward, bending at the waist so she can rest her head atop her knees. She’s shaking her head, muttering something under her breath.

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

“Teach me, teach me!”

“…When you’re older.”

Natasha never got the chance to teach Yelena that ballet move. She wonders just how many other promises to her baby sister she’s broken.

“I’m going to pull over, Nat, okay?” A male’s voice comes from somewhere close by. His hand moves from her shoulder onto her back, to rub small circles on it.

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

She had never felt so stupid. Standing on that airway strip, holding a gun out in front of her, blocking Yelena. She had let her fall into the lie, childishly believe that maybe, just maybe Dad Alexei loved them like he said he did. As Alexei kneels before them, showing no sympathy to his daughters tears, she realizes that had never been the case.

The chorus starts again, and she feels bile rise in her stomach. “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” Natasha remembers how she had stolen that gun from a solider, shoved her sister behind her and threatened to kill numerous grown men for touching her. How desperately she had clung to Yelena when they’d been ripped apart. She hadn’t been ready to give up her sister, not ready to say goodbye to the American dream lie they had built side by side. “Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the levee was dry” The memory of Yelena’s face during those few days had haunted Natasha’s dreams for years. It had frightened her- even more so than the men with oversized guns. She had never seen her sister, who laughed at everything and loved the world with everything in her, look so despondent. She had tried telling her jokes to pry some kind of smile out of her. It didn't work. “This’ll be the day that I die” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told. That day, when dad Alexei handed them back to Russians soldiers, they had both died. Died only to be remade and ruthlessly forged into something new, nothing more than weapons of mass destruction and trained killers.

There’s cussing to her left that pulls her back halfway to the present. She’s in a car, and she’s covered in vomit that runs down her front and onto her chest and lap. Clint has a hand on her, and he’s telling her just a second, Nat.

“Clint?” She asks, still slightly confused. She can still feel the weight of a smaller body on top of her, feel the soft blonde curls against her chin.

“I’m here, Tasha. Hold on.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time to start again

Countless little girls standing in a straight line, blank expressions, awaiting their next commands. They’re all mirrors of each other, no identity left for any of them to cling onto. Natasha scans over each girl, searching for the blonde waves she knows so well. She can’t find her.

The song drags on as Clint navigates the car off the road, coming to stop. He jumps out and jogs around, flinging Natasha's door open. She doesn’t move, so he reaches in and unbuckles her before slipping his hands into her armpits and pulling her out of the car. She tumbles to the ground, falling onto her knees.

And as I watched him on the stage

My hands clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in hell

Could break that Satan’s spell

Natasha catches Dreykov’s eyes on them, and she tightens her hold on Yelena’s hand. Her sister makes a small noise - she’s going to have bruises with how tight Nat is holding her- but doesn’t pull her hand away. Natasha curls her free hand into a tight fist, ready to swing if need be.

Dreykov says something to the men with guns next to him and points a finger at them. The soldiers start moving forward, and Natasha backtracks, tries to back up but Yelena stumbles at the sudden change in direction.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

Natasha screams her sister's name, gripping onto her as tightly as she can. Soldiers have hands on them both, ripping them away from each other. Dreykov is standing several feet away, a tiny smile on his face. Yelena is shrieking, hands desperately trying to keep her grasp on Natasha with all the strength in her six-year-old frame.

They lose their grip on each other and are dragged apart. Yelena’s voice dies out as they carry away the only thing Natasha had left.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie -

“Turn it off!” Natasha pleads, before promptly vomiting even more onto the ground. Clint’s hands support her head, keeping her from falling. “Off, please. I can’t. Turn it--” Clint’s hands leave her for a second as he scrambles over her, reaching through the open passenger door and slamming the power button on the radio.

Natasha lets out a breath, thankful for the silence. With the song no longer playing, her head is beginning to clear, the painful images retreating somewhere she could lock them away again.

“All done?” Clint asks her. She spits out one last string of bile and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as Clint helps her sit up and lean against his leg. He doesn’t rush her, just allows her to sit and try to regain control of her breathing as he combs his fingers through her hair.

When Natasha can finally think again, she frowns at herself in disgust. “Sorry,” She apologizes.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he tells her. Clint reaches over and opens the backdoor, grabbing his go bag and digging around until his fingers find one of his clean T-shirts. He yanks it out, closes the door. “Can I help you change, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He’s honestly not even sure if she could change herself right now, with how much she was still shaking, but he gives her the choice anyways. She shrugs her shoulders, her way of accepting help without actually having to accept. “Okay, arms up.” Natasha raises her arms, and Clint carefully tugs her shift off her by the collar, making sure the filthy outside never touched any of her skin. He crumples up the shirt into a ball and tucks it in a bag. He bunches up his shirt at the neck hole and slides it over her head before gently guiding her arms through. It takes a lot for his partner to get to this state, and his concern grows with every passing second that goes by and Natasha is still out of it. He fixes the shirt over her torso, making sure she’s completely covered and then sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against the wheel of the car. There’s a soft breeze in the air, the slight chill nipping at their skin a welcome distraction. “C’mere,” he says, and guides Natasha into his side. She tenses for a moment, but then lets her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing Clint to take her weight. He wraps an arm around her to hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeats, and this time Clint doesn’t say anything. He knows she’s not apologizing to him, but someone not in their presence. He doesn’t push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, on her own time. He has guesses though. Clint had an older brother, and he knows what a protective but burnt-out older sibling looks like. He’s seen the way her eyes linger on certain little girls in public before snapping back, caught the way she had once brushed her fingers over a fabric doll with pink hair on a store shelf, heard the way she is able to understand children’s speech without any effort. She’s never mentioned a younger sibling before, but sometimes in her sleep, she mumbles a girl’s name, her hands clenched in fists as if trying to hold on to her.

He presses a kiss to her temple, a silent promise. He won’t push her- He doesn’t need to know exactly what happened. He knows how to support her and how to take care of her when she needs it and for now, that’s enough.

Years later, Natasha will press her forehead to an adult Yelena’s, both panting from the fight, Yelena upside down and laying in the wreckage of the red room. Dreykov is finally dead, by Yelena’s hand. Yelena cracks a joke, and Natasha smiles. They’ll never again be those little girls they once were, but they’ve finally found each other.

[julemmaes]

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

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[streetlight11]

Dystopia pt 8 (FINALE)

Summary: You were an Amity born. You were taught to value kindness and harmony. But you also valued bravery and knowledge. After the test to see which faction best suited you, you were given the choice to either stay in your faction or leave. When you chose to leave your faction for another, your whole life changed and you wondered if it was the right decision. You pondered over it at first, all until you met him.

Theme: Divergent au, strangers to lovers

Genre: mild action [I tried], angst, fluff, slowburn

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Trainer!Jungkook x Initiate!FemReader

Tips: In this whole series, Y/N is a few years younger than JK. Those who were initiates like Y/N that just ended the Choosing Ceremony, are all the same age. None of these characters portray who the mentioned people are in real life whatsoever! It's just a fictional character!

a/n: Hello! Guess what? You made it to the end! I know this is a short series but I'm more than thankful if you have made it this far. Although it's quite short for a finale, I hope I didn't disappoint you too much! But anyways, here's the final part for this series :) Enjoyyy

~~~

With hurried steps, all three of them quickly hollered their way through the facility in hopes that they would reach the dorms in time. Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast against his chest, unsure if he could even calm himself down knowing something bad had happened to you. That was the last thing he wanted. From the day he saw you a few weeks back, he knew he would like you.

He knew there was something about you that leaves him being all clammy and nervous despite his amazing skill at hiding his emotions. Jungkook never knew he would manage to get close to you, thinking it was impossible considering he was a trainer and you were an initiate.

However, it looks like fate has a different plan for you and him when he saw you training by yourself in the middle of the night. That was when he first got to have a close interaction with you.

Even though it was just him teaching you basic tips on how to improve your skills for each of the different skill sets, he still got to talk to you and also earn your trust after a while. And as the days gradually went by, it was needless to say that Jungkook had grown so fond of you and even had a crush on you.

Yes, a Dauntless Trainer having a crush on a Dauntless Initiate.

How cute.

Ultimately, it all goes downhill for him as he finally arrives at the shared dormitory, only to find the rest of the initiates crowding around at one spot. The minute Jungkook and Changkyun pushed through the crowd, their hearts stopped for a millisecond upon seeing what the fuss was about.

There you were, cradled in Hyunjae’s arms as Gahyeon was crying with her hands desperately pressing what looks to be a completely blood soaked towel against your throat.

Your throat has been slit, not too deep to kill you but just enough to render you voiceless.

You were just turning around on your bed when you peeked your eyes open out of instinct, feeling as though you were being watched. Except, you weren’t expecting for it to be legit. Because the minute you opened your eyes, there was a hooded figure looming over you with a hand raised to their head level with what looks to be a knife from the Training Room.

Fuck!

Before your mind could react, your body seemed to move faster as your arms swiveled to a cross position over your face right when the person launched his attack to your head.

With the tip of its blade just barely missing your right eye socket.

You used all your energy to shove their hand away using your arms, only to kick their stomach harshly. They stumbled back a little before lunging back at you. However, you quickly rolled out of bed to your left, falling to the ground with a soft thud just as they plunged the blade into the mattress right where your chest would’ve been.

You rushed to your feet, making a break for it to the open toilet but your steps faltered when you felt a sharp stab to your calf.

“Ah! Fuck!” You loudly hissed to yourself.

The blade got pulled out of your leg harshly, only for you to flip around on the ground.

The person kneeled over you as they tried to stab you in the face again but you managed to grab their wrist with both hands. They were strong. A little too strong if you say so yourself. However, for some reason, you felt like you knew this person.

You were struggling. You were struggling hard to push their hand away. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you used all your power to push them back.

For a moment, you were glad that they nearly fell off you.

However, you weren’t mentally and physically ready for what he was about to do next. And that was for him to make one swift swing of his arm. It all happened so fast, you didn’t even realize what he did until you felt something wet trickle down your neck. You tried to curse at them but instead you were shocked when nothing came out of your mouth.

That wasn’t until one of your hands reached up for your throat and you felt it.

The open slit, the feeling of wet liquid, your nostrils filling with the strong smell of copper, and finally, bringing your fingers up to see your fingers coated in your own red crimson blood.

Your mouth hung agape as you tried to speak but there was nothing. Tears welled up in your eyes as the person got up and smirked down at you.

“Goodnight loser. I hope you rot in hell.”

They soon took off running, leaving you there helpless with no voice to scream for help, to tell people who did it. But of course, you weren’t stupid. Despite the lack of light, only an idiot couldn’t catch on easily. For there is only one person who calls you ‘Loser’ right from the start. Your doubts were confirmed the minute that nickname left their lips.

Dumb move Yeonjun.

Since you couldn’t scream for help, you slowly began to drag yourself across the room, leaving a long trail of blood behind your leg where you got stabbed only to reach the end of Gahyeon’s bed.

With one swift grasp, you managed to hold onto her shirt and that was enough to wake her.

It took her a second to realize what happened until she saw the trail of blood on the floor and your bleeding throat that you were desperately putting pressure on. She let out a shrilling scream before yelling for help from the others. Everyone began to panic at the gruesome scene, making Hyunjae cradle you while Yunho rushed out to get help.

Jungkook carried you to the hospital wing, with Gahyeon, Hyunjae, Yunho and Changkyun tagging along. One of the nurses inspected your injury, seeing that you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. She mentioned that they had to give you some blood in order to save you and they have to be the same blood type as yours. After much inspection, it was clear that only Jungkook and Hyunjae shared the same blood type as you.

Both of them offered to donate some of their blood to you to save your life. While the two were being drawn of their blood, Changkyun went ahead and brought the other two back to their dormitory to rest. You were already laying there on the medical bed unconscious which means you couldn’t feel the way Gahyeon gently gave your blood coated hands a small squeeze.

“Please be okay, Y/N.” She whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Yunho comforted the girl before they both left with Changkyun.

A few minutes later, the nurse managed to collect as much blood as you probably needed after losing them quite a bit. She placed a bandaid over the spots where she injected the tube in their arms. After she was done, she dismissed the two boys but Jungkook asked if he could stay.

She nodded, setting up the equipment so that the blood she collected from the two gentlemen could be transferred into your body through the IV in your hand.

Hyunjae left after caressing the top of your head, wishing you a speedy recovery.

The nurse went ahead and disinfected your wounds before suturing the open cuts and wrapping them with bandages. Once she was done, she excused herself, leaving you alone with Jungkook as the male went over to scoot his chair closer to your side. Jungkook carefully reaches for your hand that didn’t have the needle attached. He brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry this happened to you Y/N. You truly don’t deserve this…” Jungkook whispered as he stood up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He felt sorry. He felt sick. He felt confused. But more importantly, he felt furious at whoever did this to you. Of course he didn’t know who but you knew.

You woke up to a sharp pain in your throat, feeling it get itchy like an unusual sore throat. The prickling pain in your right calf made your leg jolt as you shot your tired eyes open. The morning sun filled the room. You carefully looked around to find you alone in the room which looks to be the hospital wing.

Memories from last night suddenly came flashing into your mind like a tsunami, and yet, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

Did that really happen?

Was it all a dream?

You almost didn’t want to believe it until your hands reached up to your throat and you felt the soft material of the bandage taped onto your neck. Of course, your stubbornness was trying to make you think otherwise so you opened your mouth to speak.

Truth be told, nothing comes out of your mouth. Absolutely nothing. Not even a sound.

Your thoughts were swirling, a million things running across your head at that very moment. From the incident last night to the final evaluation test you were supposed to have today. The test was supposed to determine your final results of your initiation. It was supposed to determine whether you get to stay in Dauntless or you get kicked out and become Factionless.

Of course, there are two ways of getting that second option. First is by failing Stage 3, and second is of course by not attending the final test at all.

How wonderful.

As your mind was swirling with these complications, you completely missed the figure that was making their way to you. It wasn’t until they were a few feet from you that you looked up only to lock eyes with Jungkook.

Immediately, a whole swarm of emotions came rushing through you as you began to cry. Jungkook rushed over to you, only to hush you.

“Shh… Shh… Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re fine. I’m here.” Jungkook cooed as he held you in his arms, feeling the way your arms wrapped around his waist tightly like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. His heart swelled upon feeling his shirt get soaked from your tears.

Your silent cries only made his heart drop even more. Jungkook caressed the back of your head lovingly, making sure to give you small reassuring kisses to the side of your head as a way to hopefully calm you down.

You both stayed like that for a bit before he sang you a sweet song in your ear.

Jungkook felt your body relax in his touch, happy that his singing made you calmer. After a while, he pulled away slowly to look you in the eye. How is it possible that you are just sitting there crying your eyes out and yet you still looked beautiful? Or maybe it’s just him.

Who knows.

Nevertheless, he wipes your tears with his thumbs and soon smiles down at you.

“You’re so strong. You’re a strong girl Y/N. And I really admire you for that.” He whispered. You couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile when you felt him boop your nose with his own. You had so much to say to him. So much you wanted to share with him. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side today. Just then, Jungkook’s smile faltered and it made you curious.

You reached for his wrist where his hand was just cupping your face softly, to catch his attention. You silently asked him what’s wrong through your worried eyes, hoping he could read your mind.

Thankfully, he did.

“The final stage… It starts in 5 minutes. I talked to the leaders about your current condition. I tried my best to change their mind, Changkyun did try too… Unfortunately, the leaders made an agreement to… disqualify you, which means… y-you…” Jungkook paused as he struggled to convey the message to you but you already knew what it meant.

You violently shook your head at him. You had to redeem yourself. You didn’t plan for this to happen. You were forced to be in this damn medical bed out of your own will. Oh if only they saw who did this to you, would they gladly throw him to the Factionless.

“Decision has been made. Since you can’t physically be there, you’re immediately disqualified.” Jungkook said as you shook your head again. There must be something about the way you were staring at him because at that very moment, it was as though you sent him a message through telepathy.

“Wait a minute… For the final test, you don’t need to talk. You… just need to be physically there for the simulation.” Jungkook said in realization as your eyes lit up.

“Does that mean… she’s immediately disqualified?” Gahyeon asked sadly, only for Hyunjae to nod.

“I mean, technically according to the rules, you are supposed to be here physically for the final test… So, I guess that’s true then…” Hyunjae said.

The rest of them who were gathered by the side of the hall where the final stage would take place, shared mostly the same emotions about you not being able to join them which would render you as Factionless by default even after all your hard work.

However, it looks like someone couldn’t care less about you not making it.

“Who cares? She doesn't belong in Dauntless anyway.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he walks to the front, leaning against one of the pillars. Your friends exchanged a few glances to one another, not feeling good about the way he said that. A few minutes passed, and they had just finished the test with the third person on the list. All the initiates were anxious as they waited for their turn. Soon enough, the Dauntless leader calls out the next name to be on stage.

“Y/F/N.”

With that, the room fell silent as the initiates looked at each other with deep frowns on their faces. A few beats of silences went by, not a single sign of you anywhere. Meanwhile, Yeonjun had that devilish smirk on his face as he felt satisfied with your lack of presence.

Unfortunately, just as the leader was about to call out the next person on the list, Jungkook’s voice echoed around the hall from the opposite end of where the initiates were gathered. That’s when Jungkook emerged through the double doors with you beside him.

He had one arm wrapped around your waist as you limped your way to the platform where the chair was waiting for you. Your friends cheered for your arrival as they shouted a string of goodlucks to you. Yeonjun growled, totally not expecting to find you still alive.

Maybe he didn’t cut you deep enough.

You immediately recognized the lady who was prepping the tools to put you into simulation, to be the same lady you met on your Initiation test.

After you sat down, Jungkook gave your waist a little squeeze before he smiled down at you and whispered, “Goodluck.”

He soon left your side as the lady asked you if you were ready. You gave her a small nod, letting her inject the needle into your neck right below your ear.

Once the serum had been injected into your system, it took effect right away, bringing you to your first simulation. It was the same simulations you went through during your Stage 2. They were all of your fears connecting one simulation to the other. You managed to remember what Jungkook taught you during the past few weeks and how to properly handle each situation like a fellow Dauntless.

The minute your last simulation ended, you woke up calmly only for the lady to smile.

“You did well.” She complimented you as she helped you sit up. Jungkook came to your side and very gently led you off the platform.

“Good job. Looks like my tips worked huh?” Jungkook asked, to which you smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. He guided you to the side only for your friends to rush over to you.

“Sweetie! You’re okay! How are you?” Gahyeon asked as she hugged you, making you return her hug. You showed an ‘okay’ sign with your hand before Yunho ruffled your hair. “Of course you are, you’re a beast Y/N.” His comment made some of them laugh, including you. Just then, your eyes drifted to your left only to meet Yeonjun’s fiery eyes.

All you wanted to do was throw him in The Pit. The last thing you wanted was to see his competitive ass everyday from now on.

However, you weren’t going to kill him despite all the pain he’s caused you.

After letting you meet up with your friends, Jungkook brought you back to his penthouse to let you rest. He carefully laid you down on his bed, pulling his blanket up to your chest while you snuggled into his side with your head resting on his chest. Jungkook chuckled as he caressed your hair, tucking them behind your ear, making sure to let his fingers softly trace the side of your face as he did so.

“No matter what the results are, I’m never leaving your side. That, I can promise you.” Jungkook said softly as you tilted your head up to look at him. You wished you could speak. You wished you could verbally say this to him outloud. Unfortunately you couldn’t.

In the end, you opted for the saying ‘Actions speak louder than words’ and so, with that being said, you lifted your head up and used your left elbow to prop your body up on the mattress.

Jungkook watched you carefully as you slowly leaned in only to press your lips softly on his. Almost instantly, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his fingers to tangle into your soft locks. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting your thumb trace the scar he had on his left cheekbone. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled away for a breath.

His eyes fluttered open to find your cute ones staring back at him. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as he gently massaged your scalp in a calming manner.

“If that is your way of telling me what I think it is, then I’ll be the one to confirm verbally that I feel the same way too…” Jungkook’s voice was smooth and sultry in your ears, it almost made you melt into a puddle. Almost.

So with one more kiss from him, your heart raced in your chest as he pulled away to let his lips hover over yours before he said the words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“I love you Y/N.”

Prologue

6 months had passed, you ended up staying in Dauntless together with Gahyeon, Hyunjae and Yunho. Right after the final stage, you gave Jungkook the weapon Yeonjun used to attack you the night before the final stage. After investigating the weapon and finding evidence that confirms Yeonjun was indeed the attacker, he was immediately thrown out of Dauntless. Rendering him Factionless.

Yes, that jerk deserved it.

Yunho was given the role of a guard due to his unfortunate ranking but hey, at least he wasn’t Factionless.

Gahyeon was a trainer for Dauntless-born initiates while you and Hyunjae were trainers for faction transfers. Although, you only started becoming one after the 3rd month when you were starting to be able to talk again.

And how was your relationship with Jungkook, might I ask?

Well, just splendid.

Your relationship with him only grew stronger each day as he took care of you during the first few months when you still had difficulties to talk. He was always there for you when you needed someone to back you up in heated arguments.

Jungkook took you to visit your parents the day after the final stage. No doubt your parents got upset over what happened to their daughter, they were more than thankful that you were still alive and that Jungkook was there to keep you sane. As the months go by, Jungkook’s feelings for you bloomed.

Today was another day of training for you and your initiates where you managed to guide the new initiates along with Hyunjae’s help.

You were just standing off to the side, letting Hyunjae take over for the knife throwing session when you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrapping itself around your waist. You giggled as you turned your head to find Jungkook’s face just mere inches away from yours.

“Not here, love… We’re in the middle of training.” You whispered, earning a soft chuckle from him before he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Can’t I just give my beautiful girlfriend some loving kisses before I go to my meeting?” Jungkook teased, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you being needy?” You laughed.

“Only when I miss you…”

“We literally saw each other an hour ago, Kook.”

“I know.” Jungkook grinned cutely at you only for you to push his face away gently while you laughed.

“Hmm, needy indeed.”

“Hey…” He pouted at you. Of course your heart couldn’t bear to see his sad pout so you turned to face him completely. Reaching up with both hands to hold his face, you pressed your lips on his before pulling away to see his silly smile on his face.

“I love you.” You whispered as you felt him hug you.

“I love you more.”

That was the last thing you heard as Changkyun’s voice beckons your boyfriend over from a few feet behind Jungkook. “Come on lovebird, we gotta go… See you later Y/N.” Changkyun chuckled as he wiggled his index finger towards Jungkook. Your boyfriend gives you one last kiss before he jogs over to his older friend.

Maybe joining Dauntless wasn’t as bad as you thought after all.

~~~

Previous

a/n: Thank you for reading this series! Do check out my other fics if you're interested to read more of my writings! ❤️

Main Masterlist

Taglist: @moonchild1 @danyxthirstae01 @helenazbmrskai @jenna-posts @pimentelssmile

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Time to rest your weary head - PART 14

I know I'm updating more slowly these past few weeks, but idk..... it's kind of a long story but i feel like in so many ways, writing helps me to go through my problems - and these past few days i just haven't been needing to do it. which is good? but at the same time, i miss it dearly and dont like delaying you updates lol :) ANYWAYS enough rambling for now.... YEAH so like this is GWYN'S LAST CHAPTER.... we have only one left.... thank you so much for your supportiveness from day one!!! it's been a thrill writing this <3

Check out my masterlist; and tagging girls @katiebellf @starbornsinger @madie2200

It was girl’s night. It took almost two weeks before the Valkyries could finally have their sleepover of gossip, sparkling wine, music and laughter. During these days, her sisters in arms definitely noticed Gwyn and Azriel’s furtive stares across the room and how they found themselves reaching towards each other more and more often during training. But still Nesta and Emerie hadn't said a word so far, content in casting inquisitive eyes and raised brows at both the Shadowsinger and the priestess. Waiting, Gwyn reckoned, for that particular night – which was scheduled in advance. So she was bracing herself to answer with honesty to whatever questions they might have for her.

And she knew it would be plenty.

In one of their last afternoon encounters in the library, she let Azriel know she felt comfortable enough to talk to her friends about their relationship; and told him if he wanted to, she would be okay with him telling his brothers as well. They both agreed, though, to refrain themselves from sharing about the mating bond just yet. “One step at a time” Azriel stated softly before planting a kiss on her forehead.

They had been taking this mantra quite literally, in all aspects. Their kisses sometimes got more intense and heated, but it always stopped before Gwyn could feel any kind of discomfort. She was grateful for it, but with time, something inside her started to change; it was almost imperceptible, a new feeling she kept to herself, but was nurturing it with kindness and a strange sense of pride. An eagerness for more, that grew stronger with every chill that went down her spine as Azriel kissed her with abandon in the quiet depths of the library; or the charged silence that took over when they halted their movements a few inches away, chests heaving, flushed from training in the middle of the night. Or the way his hand squeezed hers reassuringly when they ventured together in their few visits to Velaris. His hazel eyes piercing at her soul, filled with such intent and contained heat that made her wonder how it would feel if he set that fire free.

It’s been a few days since they last saw each other, because Azriel went on another mission for Rhysand, and Gwyn was thankful she had this night to distract herself from just how much she felt his absence. She wasn’t too worried, but it was only because she trusted Rhys’s word when he reported to her how was Azriel doing, and because at most nights, she could hear a faint melody lulling her to sleep. His own way of telling her he was fine.

She turned her attention to Nesta and Emerie’s discussion about the last book both read and drew a sip of her wine. The private library was warm, with mattresses spread across the floor topped by fluffly pillows and soft blankets. They were already in their pajamas; Nesta sprawled on the floor and Emerie sat across from Gwyn at the couch, with her legs on top of her lap.

“Ok, so.” Her Carynthian sister abruptly changed the subject, staring hesitantly at Gwyn had while Nesta crossed her legs, with a matching look on her face “Are we going to talk about it now?”

Gwyn sighed. She was nervous about voicing it, even if it was to her best friends. But still, she couldn’t contain the smile that crept upon her cheeks, the joy that filled her chest:

“I guess now is as good time as any.”

Emerie and Nesta both exchanged looks, as if gathering their thoughts. Strategizing.

“First of all” Nesta stated sternly, carefully measuring her words “How are you feeling?”

“Good” Gwyn answered with the same tone as her friend, brows high with amusement at her friend’s concern.

“Good.” She nodded, almost to herself “And what exactly is going on?”

“Well… Not much.” Seeing as her sisters didn’t approve her vague response, she went on “We’ve been taking it slowly.”

“We? So there’s a we?” It was Emerie’s turn to raise her eyebrows, nudging her with her foot from across the couch.

“If you want to know…” She said, matter of-factly “Yes, there is.”

“And how far did this we-thing go yet?”

“We’ve been meeting in the training ring for a year now, you know, for training purposes only.” She raised her brows for emphasis as her sisters laughed “But ever since my birthday, we grew even closer. It was really one of the most thoughtful gifts I ever got. And then he invited me to Velaris.”

Gwyn toyed with her hair before continuing: “And then we kissed.”

Nesta raised her brows almost to her hairline, and Emerie’s reaction consisted in her throwing a pillow at Gwyn:

“You kissed?!” She squealed. “They kissed.” She turned to Nesta, eyes wide.

“Stop it.” Gwyn laughed, feeling herself flushing. “Yeah, we did… Multiple times now.”

Nesta started laughing as well, a mischievous glint in her cunning eyes: “And how’s it going?”

“Well, as I said before, we’ve been taking it slowly. But…” She added, her blush deepening “Maybe… I don’t know, maybe I’m ready for... More.”

Mother, she felt giggly like a teenager; on the positive side, her friends were acting as such, smirking and casting amused looks at her. Nesta reached forward from her place in the mattress and took Gwyn’s hand:

“Gwyn, this is good. To consider developing your relationship with a male you trust… This is good. Natural.”

“We’re happy for you.” Emerie nodded, adding.

“And Azriel is well advised.” Nesta completed, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh, I don’t doubt he was.” Gwyn winked, laughing at her friend’s protective tone. “I’m a bit nervous. And happy: a nervous kind of happy.”

“Well” Nesta got up to her feet, motioning for Emerie to give her a space on the couch, sitting between them and snuggling under the covers. “If you want, we could give you some advice.”

Gwyn nodded, and couldn’t shake off that grateful feeling at their supportiveness as she and her two sisters by heart started discussing deep into the night.

*****

She woke up as the sun began to rise, light entering the room by the semi-shut curtains. She dreamed of that familiar melody again. Nesta and Emerie were still asleep, and she stretched quietly before getting up, heading towards the window to watch the sunrise. Magically, a cup of tea appeared in her hands, and she thanked the House before drinking it, observing the first appearance of sunlight rise beyond the mountains. Today she wouldn’t be attending her morning service, so she could spend more time with her friends and eat breakfast together.

Gwyn sighed, appreciating the peace and quiet with a light feeling in her chest, just as she caught a glimpse of shadow approaching the House. Her heart started beating faster at that, and she adjusted the blanket around her shoulders before quietly opening the doors that lead to the balcony.

That principle of shadow grew wider as Azriel’s figure started becoming more and more apparent under the daylight. His shadows reached her before he did, and she giggled when they went for her hair and shoulders.

Her mate landed with one swift move, striding towards her, and she tried to calm her heart as she took in that beautiful sight.

“Good morning” He greeted her quietly with sparkling eyes and a crooked smile.

She smiled even further at the sound of his voice, a soft tone that matched the tender melody she heard in her sleep, and closed their distance in two small steps.

“I missed you.”

Azriel pulled her into his arms, pressing their bodies close. She nuzzled her head on the crook of his neck and took a deep breath, as he gently caressed her back:

“I missed you too.” His voice was a deep rumble that caused chills on her spine.

He pulled away only enough to lift her chin and brush his lips against hers. A whisper of a kiss. Gwyn found herself instinctively going for his hair, pressing him closer as she tugged his raven hair; because Mother, she had missed him. All of him. And she wanted to let it show.

Azriel didn’t miss a step as he enlaced his arms behind her back, and the groan that erupted from him as she bit his lower lip only made her desiring scent grow stronger, mixing with his. He parted for a second, panting, and his hazel eyes darkened with lust as he scanned her face. His hair was ruffled from where her hands had been, and as he glowed against the morning light Gwyn thought he was the most handsome male to have ever lived.

And he was all hers.

“I could hear you.” Gwyn breathed, and couldn’t contain her fingers from brushing against his cheek, trailing her thumb against his lips. “Almost every night, sometimes before bed, sometimes when I couldn’t sleep, or in my dreams: I could hear your melody.”

Azriel closed his eyes, resting his forehead on hers. Both their mating scent and his shadows like a cloud around them, inebriating her thoughts. His hand toyed with a strand of her copper hair.

“You did it, didn’t you? Sing to me.” She continued.

His crooked smile in answer melted her heart, and that alone made her smash her lips on his senselessly, Azriel letting her lead the way as she slowly guided his hands down her back, and when he placed them on her thighs she pulled herself up, embracing his torso with her legs and trusting him to hold her. Which he did rather effortlessly, tracing kisses from her mouth to her jaw to her neck while she sighed.

Gwyn knew her sisters were just behind those closed doors and curtains, sound asleep, but she couldn’t care less. Not when the heat emerging from her core made her want to combust. She could feel every inch of Azriel against the fabric of her night clothes, the duvet she used to cover herself long forgotten on the floor, but instead of shying away from it, she embraced it fully, pressing them even tighter and thriving at the sound of his deep rumble against her skin, at the sensation of his fingers digging into her thighs.

She quietly giggled, thriving at his touch, and opened her eyes a few seconds later when she felt his face moving away from the spot on her neck, her body already craving his lips on her again.

“Why did you stop?” She stared into those deep hazel eyes, filled with passion and flame.

“Your laugh” His voice was rough, lips swollen. “It drives me insane.”

She raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help laughing again, louder this time. After all, she was happy. She brushed her lips against his lightly:

“I’m glad you’re home, Az.” Back to me, she thought.

He softly placed her on the ground, but didn’t let go of her hips:

“I’m glad to be home, Gwyn.”

And at that moment she knew, with certainty, home would always be wherever they were.

Together.

[aprilsrant]

Lay all your love on me | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s been crushing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for over three years. Now, in their seventh and last year of Hogwarts, her friends are determined to get them together.

WORD COUNT: 2,833.

WARNINGS: underage drinking. (If there are more and I didn’t put them, let me know).

NEXT PARTS:

Honey Honey! (part two)

When I kissed the teacher (part three).

A/N: so, this came out because of a random idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. For some reason, I like to imagine wizards dancing to ABBA, of course it’s the muggleborns and maybe halfbloods that know about them. This was written while I listened to Lay all your love on me, slowed down, on repeat. I algo gave the reader’s friends name because it was easier, and I may or mat not based their personality on my own close friends…

English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry! Reblog if you can, and if you have any suggestions or requests just DM!

Masterlist.

tags: @peeves-a-legend​ (thank you for everything).

The Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match had ended with a win for the eagle’s house, although the other team did not make it easy for them. The Hufflepuffs were known for their patience and hard working nature, giving up easily was not one of their traits and that’s exactly what everyone had seen on the match this afternoon. They knew their opponent’s Seeker, Cho Chang was getting better with each game  she played, so the Captain of the Hufflepuff Team decided their best chance was, if he wasn’t fast enough to catch the snitch that is, to lash out against the poor Keeper. 

And so they did. 

The Chasers, Preece, Macavoy and Applebee, were unstoppable. On the occasion the Quaffle landed in their hands, which had been like seventy percent of the time, they would use many different strategies to confuse the other players, including the Keeper, and score a goal.

Even after their brilliant performance, Ravenclaw still won by twenty points ahead when Cho Chang caught the snitch. A small distraction from the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain had cost them the victory, but that didn’t discourage the badgers, hell, (Y/N) thought nothing could after how well they had played. She had never felt so much respect for the usually overlooked House. 

That was pretty much the reason why the Ravenclaws were so eager to celebrate their win and had invited the whole school, or at least everyone up to the age of fifteen, to their Common Room. Many people believed they weren’t capable of throwing a good party since they were supposed to be smart and have their head on a book every minute, but (Y/N) never doubted them. One of her best friends was a Ravenclaw and that girl sure knew how to have fun, school and good grades being the last thing on her mind whenever she got sight of the Firewhisky. 

If you had asked for (Y/N)’s opinion, she would tell you Ravenclaws were the seconds best at Hogwarts on the matter of hosting parties, Slytherins right up to them. Albeit that may have been biased, she herself was a Slytherin and, thinking about it, she never went to any Gryffindor parties because, well, no one except her other friend wanted a Slytherin there. Many of them thought they were some kind of saints just because they were brave and didn’t realise they were, instead, a bunch of reckless and prejudiced twats. The remaining house, Hufflepuff, took parties to a whole other level and sometimes it became all a little too much. She wasn’t much of a party person but she still enjoyed them from time to time, but they went insane any time alcohol was in the room and started to come up with crazy ideas that would, with no doubt, get them expelled. 

After waiting ten minutes for a member of the house to step out and answer the riddle for her, which (Y/N) knew you didn’t need to be part of the house to reply but even as a Slytherin and having, supposedly, a cunning and intelligent mind she sucked at those kind of questions; she, and twenty others,  finally entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, which was completely renovated since the last time she had visited it.

The circular and wide room was filled with students from all the four houses making it seem smaller than it actually was. The moon shone, filtering through the arched windows, barely illuminated but some flickering and colour changing lights on the ceiling made it work. The furniture was against the wall on the left side so people could dance freely in the middle, while the tables on the right bursted with food and bottles of alcohol. A muggle radio had been placed on one of the large table’s corner and to (Y/N)’s delight, it wasn’t playing any songs by the Weird Sisters. She loathed that band since last year when some students, presumably Gryffindors, enchanted the speakers on the hallways to repeatedly play one of the group’s songs. 

The girl started to move towards the left side of the room, avoiding the crowd growing larger and larger. Trying to catch some familiar faces, she stood on her tiptoes and observed the room, but the lack of light and her problem with seeing things from afar, made her search harder. A couple of minutes had passed when she recognized the trio she was friends with. They were waving and screaming her name, trying to catch her attention, right beside the door that led to the dormitories.  

(Y/N) grinned at them while walking in their direction. Once she settled on Isla’s side, her best friend since childhood, some of her nerves were washed away a little. It was easier for her to be in a place packed with people if she had her close friends as company. Dorian, the last one to join the group in their fifth year, offered her a black cup with, judging by the smell, Quintin Black, her favourite. The corners of her mouth quirking up as a way of saying thanks without having to shout at him to make herself be heard through the loud music.

The Multicolour Quartet — name they all despised but stood with it because it was one of Dorian’s drunk comments when he realised how they were all from different houses; (Y/N) was the Slytherin, he was the Gryffindor, and the other two, Isla and Ethan, were both Ravenclaws — easily fell in a conversation about Isla’s brilliant performance as Chaser for her House’s Team, the other three complimenting her whenever she started to list all the errors that almost allowed the Hufflepuffs to win.

Spacing out of her friend’s chat, (Y/N)’s eyes peer round the room looking, nearly in a desperate way, for someone in particular. Answering the comments the other three made with a simple nod of her head or a yes to seem like she was paying attention, her eyes fixated in a figure directly across from them, supporting it’s body’s weight on a wall. He was surrounded by some of his classmates and friends from the same house, but she could still see, albeit with great trouble, his short brown hair and his right hand holding a black cup, equal to the one she had. 

She failed to realise that her friends had noticed where her attention travelled to. Sharing knowing glances and smirks they knew it was time for (Y/N) to talk to the boy she’d been crushing on for three years now. Isla and Ethan left saying some people were starting to cause trouble, not that (Y/N) had actually listened to them, too lost in attempting to catch another glimpse of the boy. That ended on Dorian, the most chaotic of the four, finding the way to make them, at least, share two or three words.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her left arm dragging her along the room and pushing people on the way. That belonged to Dorian and it didn’t take long for her to understand what he was doing, his mischievous smile betraying him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head while planting her feet on the floor, putting all her strength on them so he wouldn’t move her. She didn’t succeed. Obviously because of his friend’s stronger hands. 

A chant of pleas and several no exited from her mouth, but it was useless. If something got inside Dorian’s head, then nothing could stop him from doing it. A trait they both shared and the cause of a few of their arguments, neither of them knew when to back the hell down. Not even the promise of (Y/N) doing his Arithmancy homework for two weeks made him stop on his tracks. Dorian had really compromised to the cause because she knew how much he detested that subject, only taking it to please his father. 

Before she could raise the offer to a month, they were already in front of him and the group he was chatting with. 

Oliver Wood smiled at the two friends, recognizing only one of them but still being kind and inviting towards her, whose heart was about to jump out of her chest from how fast it was beating. 

“Hey, Wood, how’re you doing?,” Dorian greeted him first and then nodded at the others as if he was saying hi, “preparing for the Quidditch match next week?”

(Y/N) stood awkwardly by Dorian’s side, looking and smiling shyly at people she had never interacted with. She was going to cut this boy’s head of the minute everyone left.

“Yeah, the Hufflepuffs played like hell today.” She heard Oliver say. His words tumbling with each other. Was he already starting to get drunk? “I think I’ll need to book more practices if we want to win next week”.

Luckily, or not, Dorian noticed he hadn’t introduced his friend to the group yet. And even if she didn’t like to just stand there like a rigid stick, she hated the new attention.

“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), by the way,” he announced while placing his right hand on the upper side of her back and pushing her body to the front. And the shy smile made an appearance on her face once more. 

She whispered a small hello, looking at everyone but Oliver, and instantly felt the need to jump off the Astronomy Tower, not long after making Dorian the next designated Gryffindor Ghost. 

“What house are you in? I’ve never seen you before,” questioned one of the boys next to Oliver with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a lost look on his eyes, as if he was trying to place her and remember the colours of the tie she used daily.

“She’s not a Gryffindor, maybe that’s why you haven’t seen her much,” Dorian answered before she had the chance to, “she’s actually a Slytherin.” A new expression on his face now, intimidating the others to see if they dared to express some kind of negative or stupid comment to his friend about the house she belonged to. No one said anything. She saw Dorian smiling proudly from the corner of her eye, but in that moment (Y/N) had the weird sensation she was some kind of prey to starving lions.

The group began to talk to each again, like nothing happened, all except Oliver, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised and an intriguing sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

Dorian spoked once more.

Does he ever shut up?

“Remember the other day you said you were falling behind in Potions and Transfiguration?” Oliver nodded at him, signalising her friend to keep talking. “Well, I have the perfect person to help you with that. (Y/N) tutors me from time to time in those subjects too.”

Forget the Astronomy Tower, she desperately needed some kind of magical earthquake that could crack the floor beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

It’s not like Dorian was lying, she had helped him, and still did sometimes, to study for an important test, not only in Potions and Transfiguration, but also in the rest of the subjects they shared. Merlin knew that boy was a disaster when talking about paying attention to classes. But that didn’t mean she was good enough to tutor Oliver freaking Wood. (Y/N) could treat Dorian how she wanted if he wasn’t trying to, at least, know what she was talking about, they were friends and most of their time together was spent hitting each other, but how was she supposed to act around the precious Gryffindor Quidditch Captain?

“Great!,” Oliver exclaimed quickly. A sudden blush crept all the way from below his turtle neck to his cheeks, but she couldn’t identify if it happened because of the alcohol or embarrassment from sounding “too enthusiastic”. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I was about to start looking for one. McGonagall said that if I don’t get my grades up to an Exceeds Expectations, I won’t be able to play the rest of the matches.”

“That sucks, but you’d found one already so you two can start immediately with the tutoring sessions”, Dorian commented slily while looking at her with the smile of a champion adorning his face.

He was trying exceptionally hard, she had to give him that.

In a swift movement, she drank the whole content of her cup to see if the knot that had formed on her stomach would go away. The blonde girl, perhaps a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, beside (Y/N) noticed her drink was missing and offered her to reach out for one of the bottles of the table across. The Slytherin nodded and asked for the bottle of Quintin Black if there was still one.

“So you like Scottish things?” Oliver observed, with his eyes lighted up and his bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth, when he saw her grab the bottle of alcohol filled to the middle with onyx liquid. 

“She sure does.” She heard Dorian mumble, he had tried to hide the smirk burying his face on his cup but (Y/N) took notice of that too. After giving him a pointed look, she turned her head towards Oliver, who, hopefully, hadn’t heard her friend’s remark; if he had, he was good at concealing it.

Her response was interrupted by the starting melody of “Lay all your love on me”, one of her favourite songs, and a voice that could only belong to her best friend, screaming her name. Out of nowhere, Isla took her hand, said something to Oliver and Dorian about returning her to them later, and yanked (Y/N) to the direction of the made up dance floor, making her almost drop the cup she was holding.

It was an unspoken rule between them, whenever one of their favourite songs was on the radio, they would stop what they were doing, important or not, and start to dance and sing, without caring about other people’s opinion. It was something like a ritual that had become a safe space and a signature of their friendship for both of the girls.

A few seconds through the song had played when Celine stopped dancing and approached her friend, whispering something in her ear.

“Okay, don’t look and don’t freak out, but Oliver hot stuff Wood is staring at you.”

“What? What do I do?” 

“Just keep dancing, I guess, maybe he likes it.”

“I don’t know how to dance, why would he like it?” 

Confusion and panic in her eyes, (Y/N) tried to think about all the logical reasons Oliver Wood, one of the most attractive guys in the school, could be watching her dance. The girl knew she wasn’t beautiful, even if her best friend repeatedly said so, she wasn’t funny or interesting and, on top of all, she belonged in Slytherin, the House with the worst reputation. 

“No idea, but whatever it is, keep doing it.” 

Her best friend winked at her, a large and contagious smile spreading over her face. Grabbing one of (Y/N)’s hands, she made her twirl around following the fast beat of the song. Seizing the opportunity, (Y/N) glanced at Oliver and discovered that he was, indeed, staring at her while he drank from his black cup.

A random and unexpected laugh flew out of her mouth. Her best friend, carefree as always, began to giggle with her while dancing around the room. She had never felt more alive, and some people would think she was ridiculous for actually thinking it, but singing her favourite song at the top of her lungs, dancing and laughing and just having fun with her best friend. Excitement running through her veins uniting with the nerves Oliver’s attention towards her had provoked; a slight headache caused by the alcohol mixing with the new confidence coming from the same thing. 

Aware of the dark brown eyes focusing on her, she turned around once more, but this time she didn’t look away. She kept singing, beaming at him from the middle of the dance floor, and maintaining eye contact. A sudden thought appeared on her mind, if she’d had maybe one more full cup of Quintin Black, perhaps she would’ve been confident enough to ask him on a date. 

Don’t go wasting your emotions, lay all your love on me.

Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.

(Y/N) didn’t think that he would take that as an invitation when she whispered the words while looking at him, it wasn’t even meant to be one, but Oliver Wood had left his cup on the table next to him and was now walking towards her.

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck. 

I still don’t know what you’ve done with me.

[mayhemproduces]

ANarChY (c) vs The Apex - MPW World Tag Team Championships

Starting this match off is Bayley and VIOLET for their respective sides. Bayley looks hesitant to lock up with VIOLET, but manages to pull him in for a side headlock. VIOLET pushes her off on the ropes, dropping down, but Bayley rolls over him. Bayley ducks a clothesline, spinning around for a back elbow, but VIOLET ducks that as well. A leg sweep attempt from Bayley is jumped over, as VIOLET continues these lightning quick reversals, before nailing Bayley with a spinning leg lariat! Bayley gets knocked into the corner, and VIOLET charges her, hitting a running back elbow! She rolls forward, shaking her hips as Bayley slides down. VIOLET  charges back in, lifting herself up with the ropes, and nails Bayley with a pendulum Bronco Buster! She stands up and spins in a circle as Bayley rolls out of the ropes. VIOLET heads to the top rope - but Rhea plays distractor. VIOLET can barely plant her feet before Bayley grabs her and throws her to the mat! Tag to Rhea, but Bayley nails her with a facebuster on the knee, and Ripley follows through with a neckbreaker, right across Bayley’s knee. VIOLET grabs for her neck, rolling outside the ring for a reprieve. Bayley nods her head, looking to take care of him, and slides out of the ring. She lines VIOLET up between the turnbuckle rungs, before charging and slipping through them, taking VIOLET out with a baseball slide under the turnbuckles!

Ripley hops out on the apron to join in the assault on VIOLET, but Matsumoto charges her, and knocks Rhea down with a yakuza kick to the back of her skull! Matsumoto wraps Rhea around the ropes and beats her chest in with huge, overhand clubs, when Rhea suddenly grabs the arm and snaps it over the top rope. Bayley sends them through the ropes and to the floor with a dropkick to the back.They share a look before locking hands, Ripley giving Bayley leverage to run up the ropes and springboard off, taking ANarChY down with a huge crossbody! Somehow, after some impressive teamwork, and maybe some missteps on the part of their opponents, Bayley and Rhea have the champs reeling.

Moving the action back into the ring, Ripley and VIOLET are still the legal competitors here, and Rhea has VIOLET on the defensive, sitting in the middle of the ring after taking a headbutt. She runs the ropes, knocking him back down with a basement dropkick! VIOLET’s lifted up once more as Ripley picks him up for what looks to be a back suplex, but slams VIOLET down on his face instead! The tag is then made to Bayley, who charges into her partner’s arms, allowing Ripley to lift her up, and they hit an assisted senton! Shoulders down!

1… Kickout!

A fast, defiant kickout by VIOLET, but Bayley wastes no time in getting her back up to continue the offense, running her mouth as she does. Bayley gets her up, trying to whip VIOLET across the ring, but VIOLET reverses. Bayley uses the ropes to pick herself up and over VIOLET, rolling back, before charging back to her, and crushing VIOLET’s jaw with a step-up knee strike! Rhea reaches out, making the blind tag as Bayley sends VIOLET down with a snapmare. Bayley hits the ropes, knocking VIOLET down with another sliding knee strike, before sitting her up, and Rhea bulldozes into her with a running big boot! VIOLET could be out, and Rhea makes the cover!

1… 2 - Kickout!

Whipping VIOLET hard into the turnbuckles, Rhea goes after him - but he moves! Rhea hits the turnbuckles instead, and VIOLET turns the tides, going wild on Rhea in the corner! Finally getting some momentum going her way, when Bayley grabs her from behind! She turns VIOLET around and slaps her across the face, opening VIOLET up to get attacked from behind by Rhea! Bayley hops inside, she and Rhea taking one of each of VIOLET’s arms, before the two trade spots, tying VIOLET up in a straight jacket, before slamming her into the corner! They draw her out, and lift her up, before slamming her down onto her back again, this time in the middle of the ring! Rhea makes the cover!

1… 2 - Kickout!

The Champions stay alive, but they’re getting more and more desperate with each passing moment. Matsumoto’s desperately reaching for the tag, and VIOLET has to catch Rhea with a boot to roll over, reaching out to them. Rhea grabs her trunks as she goes for the tag, ripping VIOLET back. Ripley runs the ropes, but she’s caught by a dropkick! VIOLET creates an opening, but collapses from exhaustion! Slowly, she’s able to crawl… inching forward… and gets the tag!

Matsumoto bursts into the ring for the first time tonight, and PLOWS through Rhea  Ripley with a double handed chop! Lifting Rhea up with a forearm on the throat, Matsumoto lays into her with quick, brutal forearms, alternating between arms, until Rhea can’t hold herself up anymore. They then pick her up into a fallaway slam position, but before tossing her, Matsumoto softens up Rhea’s sides and backs with knee lifts, before finally tossing her across the ring! The momentum sends Ripley right back to her feet, and Matsumoto grabs her just as quickly, and drives her down with VX! Cover to retain!

1… 2… Kickout!

Rhea out at two and immediately vacates to the floor, needing some space between her and The Machine. But Matsumoto doesn’t give it to her. Following her out ot the floor, Rhea is scooped up, Matsumoto planting her with a running powerslam on the floor! Rhea’s spine arches up as she cries out in pain, but Matsumoto isn’t done. They pick her up, and slam her on the apron with a vicious powerbomb! Matsumoto rolls her back inside the ring and gozzles, military press, and Matsumoto hits the Spinebuster! YOMOTSU HIRASAKA could be the end of the Eradicator tonight!

1… 2.. Broken up!

Matsumoto throws Bayley right back down to the floor before they lay into Ripley with stomps to the back, picking their target, before she’s lifted up and whipped hard across the ring, colliding with the turnbuckles like a freight train! Matsumoto rolls over, making the tag to VIOLET, who continues to target the spine of Ripley. As the shots rain down, Rhea starts to have enough, and whips around, stunning VIOLET with a headbutt! She snarls in VIOLET’s face, but VIOLET doesn’t back down! He lays into her with a trifecta of forearms, before bringing her into the Lovers corner, bouncing her face off the turnbuckles, and tags in Matsumoto. Matsumoto comes in and picks Rhea up, nailing her with a nasty backbreaker! She’s drug back to the corner, where VIOLET’s tagged in once more, utilizing quick tags here to inflict more punishment on their opponent, and keep the legal wrestler fresh. But there’s a change in pace here as VIOLET whips Rhea across the ring, but she slides to the outside instead - where Matsumoto grabs her! She tried to take him out, but Matsumoto saw it coming, and dumped her onto the ring apron with a back suplex! A nasty fall for Rhea’s targeted back, and she’s rolled back inside the ring, where VIOLET looks for another back suplex - but she lands on her feet! Rhea ducks under her clothesline and rolls through, making the tag to Bayley!

She comes in hot out of the gate, nailing Matsumoto and VIOLET with a pair of clotheslines. Matsumoto’s caught by a twisting back elbow, and VIOLET takes a twisting enzuigiri, before she charges Matsumoto, nailing him with a shoulder thrust. She grabs their head for a bulldog, and on the way to deliver, takes VIOLET down with a clothesline! Bayley fists pumps the air, celebrating that mini victory, but her work here isn’t done, and she knows it. Getting VIOLET up in the corner, she lays him down into a tree of woe, when she’s caught by a knife edge chop from Matsumoto. Matsumoto whips her into the corner, but Bayley reverses, charging in after Matsumoto. Matsumoto uses the ropes to go up and over Bayley, snapping back to her, where he throws Bayley with a hurricanrana - but she’s able to use it to roll, and deliver an elbow drop to VIOLET, who was still stuck in the tree of woe! Matsumoto grabs at their hair, clearly not intending to do that, but he doesn’t get the chance to rest, as Bayley rushes into the ring, and catches him with an Exploder suplex! Matsumoto hits the ground hard enough to bounce up, allowing Rhea to lift him up, and alley-oop him into Bayley, who drives him into the mat with a Powerbomb! Matsumoto’s stacked up for the pin!

1… 2… Kickout!

Matsumoto survives, but a wicked smile is shared between Rhea and Bayley, as Bayley points to the top rope. With some work, they manage to get themselves to the top rope, poised and ready to deliver a Golden Shower… but VIOLET’s here! He rips Rhea down, throwing her to the outside, as Matsumoto jumps up and starts hammering at Bayley. VIOLET eventually joins them in the ring, joining Matsumoto up on the middle rope, as the two quickly batter Bayley down. Once she’s weakened, they hook her arms over their heads, and fall back, delivering a Double Superplex! It hurts VIOLET nearly as much as it does Bayley, all the damage he’s taken to her back, but Matsumoto encourages her to keep going - when Rhea grabs them. Her arms are wrapped tight around Matsumoto’s waist, and she’s able to muscle them up, and deliver a devastating German suplex on the apron! That could be it for Matsumoto, and VIOLET isn’t much better off, as Bayley jumps to the top rope with her, and brings them down to the mat, nailing VIOLET with a Bayley to Belly! VIOLET’s out cold, and Bayley wants to put the final nail in the coffin here, going back up top, looking for the Swanton Bomb. As she gets her feet positioned, though, VIOLET’s suddenly on her feet, and knocks her down! Bayley’s crotched on the top rope, and Rhea comes over to defend her partner, charging VIOLET, but she EATS a Superkick from VIOLET!

VIOLET calls for the end of it all, when the Timeless One makes her appearance on the apron. A shrill cry draws VIOLET’s attention as Toni holds her hand up, looking like she might faint. Before we can find out what is ailing Miss Storm, we see Bayley make a quick tag to Rhea in the background. Ripley sneaks in, and rolls VIOLET up deep to steal this!

1… 2… KICKOUT!

Rolling VIOLET back, Rhea kicks her square in the jaw! Pumphandle, Rhea going for the Riptide - but VIOLET reverses into a DDT! Another quick tag to Bayley, who knocks VIOLET to the floor. Off the ropes, Bayley looks to fly - but VIOLET pushes Toni in the way! Suicide dive on Storm!

Bayley tries to check on Toni and help her up, but she turns around to see VIOLET flying from the apron, taking her out with a meteora! She pushes Bayley back inside the ring and right into a wheelbarrow from Matsumoto. They grab both of Bayley’s arms into a chicken wing, and VIOLET nails her with a running knee strike! VIOLET flips her over, and locks in UltraVIOLET! As Bayley struggles, Rhea tries to make the save, but gets POUNCED right back out of the ring! Bayley taps out!

“Here are your winners, and STILL MPW World Tag Team Champions, ANarChY!”

[pepper-up-potion]

Little miss spontaneous (Fred Weasley x Fem!reader)

Summary: Reader tries to be spontaneous for a day and fails miserably but her boyfriend Fred helps comfort her.

Warnings: Food and like, maybe some insecurity of not being spontaneous enough?? Idk if that makes sense but I think I should still put it in case. Also some stress but there’s comfort too.

Word count: 1778

A/n: This is my first time writing Fred Weasley and I‘m not sure I got it right?? But he just screams spontaneous to me. Like I don‘t think he‘s capable of planning anything other than pranks. So I found him quite fitting for this. Also the middle picture is not mine, credit to this person. The other two are blurry pics I took last summer holiday. Anyways, hope you like it :)

Fred groans as he is abruptly woken by a loud horn. Someone on his street is continuously honking their car horn. It’s been going on for over a minute before Fred grumpily sits up in his bed and places his chin on the bottom frame of his window.

He spots the source, a teal green convertible with cream leather seats. He groans and slides the window up to not to so kindly tell the driver to sod off. He fills his lungs in preparation to shout when the person beats him to it.

“Fred!” Shouts the driver. Fred gasps and quickly bundles up his firsts to rub at his sleepy eyes. Three floors down (y/n) is waving so vigorously, Fred fears she might lose her hand. She’s sitting in the driver's seat of the car smiling wide.

“(y/n)?” He calls back confused and slightly concerned.

“C’mon hurry up! Get dressed and let’s go!” She yells enthusiastically.

Fred gapes, unable to keep his jaw from dropping. Fred is convinced he’s dreaming this up. This is nothing like (y/n), she’s the type to whisper in libraries and spend nights planning for the days to come instead of attending parties.

“What?” Fred has a multitude of questions but that ones seems the best one to start with.

“Ughhh stop asking questions Freddie! Just do as I say.” The sudden order and dismission makes Fred knit his brows and dive deep into contemplation. He’s never seen her like this. (Y/n) is the type to plan every single part of her day even to last second. To his recollection, this was not something that they’ve planned and she would never leave him out of the loop.

“Fred? Are you coming?” Ask (y/n) slightly annoyed. Fred makes a small sleepy nod before getting out of bed with a grunt and putting on some clothes. He walks out of his apartment, rocking a very messy bedhead as he covers his yawn with a hand and carries his shoes in the other. He opens the door to the car and sits in the passenger seat. He starts lacing up his first shoe and without shooting a glance to (y/n) asks “So where are we going?”

After a long silence, he looks up. (Y/n) has her hands on the steering wheel, she’s looking forward with a look of deep thought. Fred can practically see the gears turning in her head. She turns her head to look at Fred and slowly says “Well, I don’t know actually. I hadn’t thought that far.” She dives back into her head trying to rack an idea for a destination.

Fred shrugs, “then drive.”

(Y/n) develops an even more confused look, something that Fred did not imagine possible. “Just drive.” He explains simply.

“Oh.” She stuns. “Yeah, okay, let’s do that.” She shakes her head vigorously the words giving her a little strength. This really isn’t like her, Fred thinks. She normally has a smart and definite answer to everything. But today she seems confused and dares Fred even think, distraught. She starts the car and drives towards the end of the street.

“Uh (y/n), sweetie, it’s that way. This street has no exit that way.” Fred points his thumb behind him to indicate she’s driving in the wrong direction. She harshly steps on the break and Fred silently thanks himself for putting his seatbelt on a couple seconds earlier. “Right!” She exclaims remembering the street she has visited many times over the year that she and Fred have been dating. “Sorry.” She mumbles with red cheeks as she uses a neighbour's driveway to turn around.

They drive in silence for a very long time. Fred is scanning her face as she goes through nervous, calm, and confused states. He looks at her fidgety hands that can never remain in the same place on the steering wheel for more than a couple seconds. He turns his attention to her outfit. It’s nothing like what she normally wears, the opposite of what he would expect to see her in. She never looks at Fred, she just stares at the winding road ahead, sometimes mumbling things to herself, too quiet for Fred to understand. They are driving on a picturesque highway, the mountains on the left and the ocean on the right. Neither of them knows where they are or where they are going.

Fred spots a small building to the right of the street. Next thing he knows he’s pointing to it and ordering (y/n) to pull over in the small parking lot. The sign is small but it’s a little diner that states to be open 24/7. They’re the only car in the parking lot and (y/n) stops the engine.

“Let’s eat, yeah? Have you had anything today? I’ve got a hankering for waffles drenched in syrup with just a little whip cream on top.” He uses his index and thumb to represent the small amount of whip cream he’s thinking of. His eyes are bright for the first time since he woke up. The thought of the sugary breakfast gives him energy. (Y/n) laughs for the first time that morning.

She orders a plate of a dozen eggs and four cheese toasts. Fred thinks it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever ordered given that she doesn’t like fried eggs and isn’t a quidditch player on a training diet.

When the food arrives he finally asks, mouth full, “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He gestures to her with his fork.

She pushes at the eggs on her plate with a look of disgust. “What do you mean?” She looks at him with wide eyes.

“This isn’t you love.” He points out simply. She sighs in defeat but doesn’t say anything. Fred gives her an encouraging nod and she sits up a little.

“Well, I overheard Harry and Ron talking about how much I plan things and I’m never spontaneous and while I’m flattered they said they would want me to plan their wedding, I realized they’re right. I mean, when have I done something without planning it?”

Fred chuckles. “Well you sure proved them wrong today”

“This morning I woke up and put on an outfit I hadn’t planned the night before. I think that would have been enough maybe. But then I walked out my door and the next thing I knew I hoped in a car and drove to you.” She sighs again, evidently uncomfortable with the lack of planning.

Fred drops his fork which creates a loud noise in the otherwise quiet diner. “Do you mean to tell me you stole that car?” Fred asks in a whisper, his eyes lighting up.

“No!” She disputes. “Well, depends.” She mumbles.

“Merlin (y/n)! You stole a car?” He exclaims. Fred sounds much too excited for a stolen car.

“Would you keep your voice down?” She snaps. “It’s my friend’s uncle’s car and while I didn’t ask if I could use it I knew he wouldn’t be and one time my friend said I could borrow it.”

She suddenly goes pale. “Godric, Fred.” she says slowly as she slumps in her seat and covers her mouth with her hand. “I stole a car.” The guilt on her face makes Fred want to laugh. Of course, he understands this is the end of the world for her but he couldn't be more proud.

She hops out of the booth and gestured to Fred to do the same. “We have to go Fred. We have to put that car back!” She exclaims. Her voice is laced with panic.

Fred turns in his booth to face his horror-struck girlfriend. He grabs her hands in his and looks straight into her eyes. His eyes are soft and warm and most of all calm.

“How are you calm Fred? I’m a criminal! You’re having breakfast with a criminal!” She blurts. Fred worries she might pass out. She’s gone pale and her hands are cold as ice.

“(Y/n), sweetie, let’s finish breakfast first. We have no clue where we are or how we’re going to get back so let’s start with getting some food in our bodies okay? Then I’ll help you return the car.” He’s so calm when he speaks, it convinces (y/n) to move back to the booth. Fred makes a whiny sound and pulls her back by the wrist.

“Come sit next to me.” He scoots further into the booth to give her space. She squeezes next to him as he pulls her plate to their side of the table. He laces his hand with hers and starts eating again.

“You know I love you even if you plan everything.” He states. (Y/n)’s cheeks turn red and her face suddenly contorts into a big pout.

“Really?” She asks weakly. She turns to look at Fred who smiles softly.

“Yes.” He states simply. “We balance each other out. Haven’t you noticed how much more spontaneous you are when you’re with me? I’ve noticed how much more I plan things when I’m with you. We’re helping each other. It’s no good to be only spontaneous or only organized. Together we can become both.” He moves back to his plate as if he were just talking about the last quidditch match he saw, leaving (y/n) stunned.

“Though I must admit I love what you did today. I won’t let you forget this one.” He chuckles and plants an adoring kiss on her cheek.

(Y/n) laughs again for the second time that day. It’s much longer and fuller. Fred can practically hear the stress escaping with it. He smiles to himself, happy he could help her.

She grabs at her cheesy toast and finally starts eating. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. I knew I felt calmer with you but I never realized how good we were for each other.”

Fred nods happily. “The perfect match.” He says proudly.

They take up a light conversation as they finish eating. Once back in the car they create a plan to get back. It’s not planned out to the second but it’s good enough to get them back into town. Fred holds (y/n)’s hand as she drives back up the winding roads.

“Cute outfit by the way.” He teases, smirking at her.

She grimaces. “Maybe I’ll keep planning that part of my life.” She offers.

Fred bursts into laughs and soon they are laughing together, the wind blowing in their hair, the radio blasting. It might be one of their best memories yet.

[luvlyrv]

Duel | Seulgi x F!Reader | Knight!AU

Request: Okay so I have a request 👀 you don’t have to write it if you want want to, but the idea came to my head and I thought why not request it from one of my favourite writers! 🥺

SO, knight!seulgi. Or basically Seulgi with a sword and being bad ass 🥴 maybe a small bit of enemies to lovers, who knows? But just Seulgi. With a sword. 😳🥵

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: i hope you like it! i'm not big on action scenes so they were kind of rushed, sorry :( also sorry that it took so long my dear!! hope you're doing well <3

Date: 4/11/21

You uncomfortably roll your shoulders back, a phantom pain gradually enveloping your body. Somehow the mere sight of Seulgi was enough to send shudders down your spine as your body recounts the sensations of the many fights you've had with her. Maybe defeat has already etched itself into your muscle memory.

You let out a quiet breath as you observe her sparring session with a fellow damoiseau, a knight-in-training. Your mind feels a bit torn by the sight in front of you. On one hand you are entranced by the fluid motions and contortions that Seulgi managed to make her body do. On the other hand you struggle to not make an obviously unsettled face. Your mood sours at the disappointment you feel when reminded of the fact that despite how much you try to observe and study her, you have never bested her in a duel.

Besting the people around you had always come easy. You've enjoyed the pain of your training, knowing that it would be proven a worthy investment of your time when you see a pitiful body laying on the floor in front of you. When you get to see the face of defeat, hear the admittance of it. For all you know you are the perfect warrior. A noble knight worthy to serve the monarch.

You're better than everyone. You know it. Except for her.

What was it? What did you she have that you didn't? Every time she bested you in a duel it dealt a bastardly blow to your ego. The words 'second best' would make your eye want to twitch. For all your strength and endurance, your familiarity with the motions of battle, Seulgi just seemed to understand it more.

You recount the many times your body would strain itself after being dealt with many sharp thwacks. The throbbing pains from falling and rolling, again and again. The sense of hope and excitement as you pushed yourself to take on a stance and seemingly deal a final blow, only for Seulgi to easily and gracefully step away, just to kick you back to the ground.

You hate her. You hate the weaklings underneath you too. You swear you can hear them snicker when you lose to her, that treacherous woman.

You stop your thoughts when you suddenly hear the booming voice of your master calling for you. Your grip strengthens around your training sword as you slowly make way towards Seulgi. It's time for the two of you to repeat the process. This time though, you are determined to win. Certain of it. Seulgi, the best apprentice in your regiment, would not longer make a mockery of you.

Your jaw hurts as clench, barely containing your anger. You try to calm down and refocus on the situation at hand. You look at Seulgi as she stands in her own battle-ready stance in front of you. You wonder how her blows deal so much power when her frame looks so delicate.

Focusing on calming down your breathing, you slowly advance forward. Your opponent does the same and soon enough you're circling around each other. It's the same story again. The same beginnings.

You want to end things quickly and dive in for the first blow. One blow should be all you need, you think to yourself. You force yourself to go as quickly as possible, everything around you a blur except for your target herself. All of a sudden though, she disappears and suddenly you feel your training sword facing resistance, threatening to escape your grasp.

You grunt in frustration and reorient yourself to find Seulgi. You spot her and balance yourself waiting for another opening. She is always on the defensive it seems, but you are never one to wait. As the seconds go by you deem it the right time to go for a slash. It feels as if your body is moving through molasses as you watch Seulgi glide out of your weapon's way in horror. You see her sword and a painful thwack is given.

It's the same story again. The same middle.

You repeat and repeat these motions. You going in for a hit only to be countered. Sometimes you'd get one in, but like you your opponent is hardy and gets back up. After a brutal pummeling you must resign yourself to defeat, as much as your heart hates it. The same ending as always.

This time though you can't seem to hold your tongue back.

You storm up closer to Seulgi and roughly hold onto the collar of her training attire. "What the hell is it? What's your secret?" You shake the woman a bit until her hands come up to your wrist. She pushes them down and you decide to let go. "Rematch tonight. I'll prove my worth." The words come out viciously but quietly. They were a promise both to her and yourself.

The crowd of spectators around you stay quiet after your outburst, and Seulgi doesn't say anything either. Not bothering to look at anyone's faces you leave the grounds to change clothes. They stuck to you with sweat and the gritty dirt that covered it bothered you

You can't think much for the rest of the day. The thoughts of your failure prevents you from enjoying training or beating other people. Soon enough you find yourself looking at a bowl of measly soup and bread in the mess hall all by yourself.

The warm soup makes you feel marginally better, but you don't pay much attention to it. Instead you take in your surroundings. This scenario is routine. You sit by yourself somewhere among the crowds of people interacting and enjoying their meal together. Even if people were nearby you simply would not speak. Why waste your breath on them?

In contrast to you though, you notice how hordes of people flock around the number one apprentice. Vying for her attention. Are you jealous? You can't tell. You just wonder if people would act that way towards you if you were the best.

Soon enough you hear the familiar yelling of a commander telling you all to return to your bunks. You quickly put away your bowl and utensils before hanging back from the line of people walking back towards the measly barracks that housed you all. Through the large body of people you see the crowd finally thin out as people their respective barracks. As you get closer to yours you finally spot Seulgi towards the entrance of the building. Coming up behind her you speak out.

"You didn't forget, did you?" She takes a moment to think before huffing.

"I suppose I should humor you after all."

You turn without letting her speak further. There's a silence between the two of you as you go to retrieve your training swords. You'd expect to hear loud padded footsteps behind you, but surprisingly Seulgi's footsteps sound faint. Nearly nonexistent.

The night sky of course makes it hard to see things, but your years of training has ingrained the layout of the entire area into your heart. It also helps that the moonlight allows you to see just enough as well. You make it to your destination with ease, picking up your weapon you watch as Seulgi grabs hers too.

"Where are we going to fight?" She questions you tiredly.

"Out in the field." Your answer is curt as you once again lead Seulgi, this time to the middle of the field you had fought in earlier in the day. When you arrive you distance yourself farther away from her and take your stance.

"You ready?" You ask her as you plant your feet into the ground and focus on your breathing.

"Mhm." Seulgi, unlike you, decides to stand there. She seems uncommitted, like she doesn't care about the fight. How dare she do that when your pride is on the line? When you're taking this so seriously?

Frustration builds up inside of you as you take her attitude as disrespect. You move in to give her a quick jab. Extending your arm, you feel your weapon graze her before she moves out of the way. A popping noise fills the air as she strikes down near the hilt of your weapon, trying to make you loosen your grip. It almost works but you quickly readjust your hands. You force up your sword in retaliation, breaking away the contact between your two swords.

With your sword so high up you decide to go for a horizontal swing towards Seulgi's body. In the early moments of your swing though, Seulgi ducks down and gives you an upwards jab towards your chest.

You heave as air forcefully leaves your lungs, a pain exploding around your chest.

"God!" You wheeze out loudly. Seulgi stands in front of you while she lowers her sword. You get down to your knees and look at the ground. Your breathing normalizes quickly but you try to get your bearings before rising again.

"I still... don't get it." As quickly as your breathing returned to its normal state, your voice quivered as your eyes felt hot. The disappointment that you seemingly always felt around Seulgi had made its reappearance. This time it hit harder than normal. Hard enough to make you start crying.

As your breathing began to become more uneven you finally raise your head and stand up. The form of your opponent gets closer to you. The only sounds between the two of you is the noises escaping your throat as you broke down again.

"How can you manage to fight like that?" You notice Seulgi has put both of her hands out to you. Your hesitance to take them spurs her to speak.

"I'll show you." Her voice touches you somehow. How have you never noticed how angelic she sounded? How gentle she was being with you right now? "Just take them."

You allow her to take your hands. She carefully clasps her similarly calloused hands around yours and begins to move. Her body sways, you don't quite understand why but you try to follow suit.

"I don't get it." You say as you try to mirror her movements. You fumble in embarrassment as Seulgi moves with confidence and grace. You're like a fawn who hasn't learned how to walk next to her.

"I'm a dancer, don't you see?" She momentarily lets go of your hands and walks backwards. You miss the feeling of her hands but you're entranced by the short show she puts on.

She performs for you, the dance itself was beautiful as she created curves and angles with her body. The moonlight enhances it, bouncing off her body and allowing her to glow.

Why have you never noticed how delicate her features looked? How it looked as if she was hand sculpted by the gods?

She returns back to you, taking your hands in hers and leads you back to dancing. You focus harder on trying to mimic her correctly. Eventually the both of you are gracefully dancing across the vast field. You're calmer now, happy even.

"See?" Seulgi says after a while of silent dancing. "The battlefield is my dancefloor, and I'm simply dancing around your blade."

"You're an incredible dancer, Seulgi." Seulgi has brought the two of you closer now. You notice how her lips tug up a bit as you pay her a compliment. That was the first time you've complimented her, perhaps even anyone here. It was the first time you said something without malice to her.

"I try." She laughs a bit. "I wanted to be a professional dancer at first actually. My family wanted me to go into a more noble field though, for the sake of our reputation. I protested at first of course. As I thought more though I decided I wouldn't mind protecting people. I still try to dance everyday though."

"Oh." Shock is laced through your voice. Listening to Seulgi was a humbling experience to say the least. You had wanted to become a knight for your own honor, to attain glory and recognition. You hadn't paid much thought towards protecting other people.

It was also strange to see Seulgi treat you like this. Her kindness was unprecedented. Was your hatred and spite one-sided all along?

"Hm?" Seulgi is curious to your shock as she quirks her eyebrow.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I've..." It hurts you a bit to say sorry, let alone apologize correctly. You force yourself to do it though. Maybe, just maybe, you need to change. "I've certainly acted coldly towards you and others. My actions have been... conceited." You here a soft giggle before Seulgi speaks again.

"You're cuter when you're not being awful, you know?" You're glad that the sun has set and that Seulgi can't see the embarrassment on your face. Seulgi hums a tune as you continue dancing together.

"Try smiling more and scowling less. You'd be more approachable that way, along with some attitude changes of course. Aren't you lonely?" She tries to advise you, and normally you'd lash out if anyone made comments about your behavior, but you can't help but to listen to the soothing voice of Seulgi.

"...I can try." You whisper. "I think, if I may speak frankly, I would be okay with being second best under you." Seulgi laughs again.

"Oh? Was dancing with you all it took to make you earn some humility?"

"Maybe... can we dance again another time?" You ask with hesitance before you quickly elaborate. "To get better at fighting, like you! Of course. Only if you want to."

"If this would effectively make you learn your lesson, then sure."

This was the first time you could talk to someone like this, and you like it.

"Thank you, Seulgi, for your patience."

You understand why she's the best apprentice out of all of you. Why people flock around her. Who wouldn't want to be near the giving soul of Seulgi?

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 24)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Quill x Reader Word Count: 3460 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 23 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The sun beckons you to rise, to leave the bed you’ve grown so accustomed to in the last few days and with reluctance you do, trudging across your apartment to get ready for work even though all you wanted to do was sleep the day away. Finding out you couldn’t graduate on time like you expected to do was a huge blow to your motivation, and Peter’s belittling of the subject didn’t help.

For the first week after you ignored most of his texts, even if they woke you up in the middle of the night. You debated shutting your phone off again like you used to but ever since you started dating Peter you kept it on, rousing from sleep with texts that let you know he was okay after coming back from a fire. You began to reply with just a few words here and there so he didn’t worry. The last thing you wanted was for Peter to come over.

You weren’t in the mood to see him, making up excuses about having to work late instead of wanting to get into the truth about how you were feeling. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to address it, you just didn’t want to now. You already had a terrible headache from all the tears you spent crying over a stupid mistake, you didn’t need to add an argument on top of it.

Knowing Peter’s schedule made it easier to come up with excuses for the days he had off so you didn’t expect him to show up at your door one evening. But it wasn’t Peter’s face that you first saw through the peephole of your door, but the kind smile of a stuffed animal.

Opening the door a little you saw Peter’s eyes peeking out from behind the plush, a floppy eared dog that wasn’t quite as cute as Groot but still adorable nonetheless. Peter lowered the doll revealing a serious expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, with sincerity laced in every syllable.

You gripped the door tighter, feeling tears begin to well in your ears but still you said nothing. Two words could not make up for the four he said that broke you.

“I realized how much of a jerk I was, I didn’t validate your feelings and I’m sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you sniffled, opening the door wide enough for Peter to come inside, enveloping you in his arms. More apologies fell from his lips as did your tears but when Peter nudged the nose of the stuffed animal against your arm you began to smile. He pretended like the dog wanted to get in on the hug and you happily obliged.

Peter stayed for a while, explaining he switched days off with someone. It kind of threw off his schedule but he didn’t care. “You’re worth it,” he told you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You kissed him goodbye, waving the dog’s paw as he walked down the hallway. While it was nice to have made up with Peter there’s still a feeling of resentment deep down inside that you can’t help but hold onto.

Despite forgiving him Peter still wanted to make sure he was there for you, by distracting you on the day you should have been graduating and going to a movie under the stars at Riverside Park. You held hands, resting your head on Peter’s shoulder as you watched Footloose, “the greatest movie in history” according to him.

The chill of the night made you shiver and Peter draped his jacket around your shoulders and from that moment on you sort of spaced out, remembering a chilly night not long ago when you were wearing Bucky’s jacket as he kept you bundled in a warm hug. The memories stung like needles in your heart. The movie is a blur. Your mind was off graduation but lingered on more unpleasant thoughts...

It didn’t take long to get your mind off the past, not when you began working at Metro-General again. Elena was kind enough to let you complete your hours on the weekends and it was only going to take just over a month. Working long hours at two different places every day of the week was going to be a bit of struggle but it was one you would happily push through.

You saw less of Peter as a result but truthfully you hadn’t the chance to see much of anyone except for Steve at Stark’s and occasionally running into Sam at the hospital. When your schedules did allow for an evening together you weren’t much company, spread out along the couch with Groot at your side, cuddling him as you shut your eyes until dinner was ready. And afterwards Peter joined you in the shower, the water waking you up enough to feel every sweet press of Peter’s lips on your skin as you got clean– and dirty together

In bed, your hand rested on his chest as Peter held you close, whispering your name softly to see if you were still awake. A soft hum vibrated in your throat and Peter asked something you thought you’d be able to avoid.

“Thor’s having a barbecue on Monday. Can we go?”

Monday, Labor Day, the only day you had not to do any laboring except for much needed laundry. You really wanted to spend it sleeping until noon, possibly later, and enjoy the only day you had off.

Peter’s lips flattened into a thin line, wondering if you had fallen asleep or didn’t respond on purpose. He knew it might be hard to convince you, with you being so exhausted already during the first week of your new schedule but he really wanted to see you that day and with a deep breath he let you know how much it would mean.

“I love you Y/N and I really miss you. We wouldn’t have to stay long, I just wanna be with you since we both have off.”

You hoped Peter couldn’t feel the way your heart began to rapidly pound against your rib cage. Peter loves you? He said the words. He said them and you… tried to pretend you were asleep. You were probably doing a terrible job, Peter could surely feel your panicked breathing.

You had to say something. Anything. But you couldn’t say it back.

Not those words.

Through a sleep-laden sigh you mumbled an “okay” a guilt fueled answer in response to a party you really didn’t want to go to, along with the rhythm of words that could maybe have been an “I love you too” if someone chose to interpret them that way.

Despite how tired you were it took some time to fall asleep with Peter’s words keeping you awake.

Thor lived in a narrow apartment with clean white walls and light oak floors, and simple furniture that left room for a lot of open space. There was a plain wood table with curved back chairs on thin tapered legs, a decent sized couch across from a slim TV mounted on the wall, and a large potted plant growing tall and green, soaking up the sun from the glass doors that opened to an outdoor balcony.

You first spotted Gamora inside, standing up to greet you and Peter. The women she was speaking with introduced themselves as Jane and Darcy, and they were happy to have another person to talk to that didn’t work for the FDNY.

“We were outnumbered before but now you’re here!” Darcy cheerfully said.

“We’re still outnumbered,” you heard Jane remark in passing as you made your way to the balcony to find Thor.

He took a moment to step away from the patio sized barbecue to say hello before returning to ensure the meat was properly turned on the grill. Over his shoulder he introduced you to some of his coworkers introduced by their last names, Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg.

Everyone got on along well and the conversation made everyone smile. Peter broke out in laughter as he told a story about Drax, who was working today and couldn’t defend himself or his sensitive nipples. You were having a really nice time but while eating Thor’s food you couldn’t help but think how this would compare to George’s barbecuing. Is Bucky there now? Is Claire? Are they happy?

Are you?

You don’t see Peter again until the end of the week, another night spent in his apartment that you should have felt a little more comfortable in by now but you don’t. Sure you’ve slept there often enough and showering wasn’t strange but it was something on a deeper level that you didn’t connect to. Everything still felt like Peter’s, which makes sense of course but the feeling you can’t get past is that you can’t see these things ever feeling like yours.

Groot nudged your arm to stretch across your lap, eating a cookie that crumbled on your thigh. Ironically Peter’s pets were the only things you really felt connected to. Oh and Peter too, you realized as an afterthought, feeling bad about it.

Your head was hanging down, staring at Groot as you stroked his head, not paying much attention to Peter as he sat back on the couch. He stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. His hands dug around the cushions for his Firestick remote, asking if you’ve seen it but instead of answering your head snapped up at the mellifluous voice of Shirley Jones.

Seeing The Music Man left you in a state of frozen shock, and watching as Marion sings to herself of her feelings for Harold Hill, the feelings she’s been denying for some time now brought painful tears to your eyes. You couldn’t stop them, tears dropping on top of poor Groot’s head as Marion poured her heart out for the person she loved.

Peter turned when he heard you sniffling, giving up his quest to find the smaller remote and wrapping his arms around you. “Awww kitten, you cry at musicals, that’s so sweet!” He kissed your temple, a feather light peck pushed daggers into your heart. “I cry too, like the time I saw Little Shop of Horrors…”

Peter’s words fade as you focus on the pain radiating in your chest, the ache of an atrophied muscle beating to a song you made it forget. It cries out in longing as Marion does for Harold… as you long for Bucky.

It’s hard to believe that a little over a year ago you were invited by Tony Stark to be a part of the team that got The September Foundation off the ground. You remember being taken to his office, nervous as if the principal was going to call your mom and becoming absolutely flabbergasted when he asked you to work on this project.

It’s funny how things have a tendency to work out. When your living situation changed so did your life, and Stark Industries became a raft in the water. It kept you afloat as you cruised slowly down the river towards your degree, and when the time came to complete your requirements you took a chance, sailing on choppy waters and in the end you survived. Not only did you survive but you came out stronger.

The last year has given you so much to be grateful for, from being able to have the opportunity to learn from one of the city’s best damn social workers Elena Rodriguez to working alongside brilliant minds like Tony Stark and Pepper Potts and so many others to create an amazing organization.

The September Foundation opens its doors next week but tonight was all about celebrating. You’re shaking with nerves but in an exciting way as you take your Uber to the modern penthouse of a gorgeous hotel in Tribeca.

Your heels clack on the large marble tiles that spread across the lobby. It's a mix of modern and contemporary with charcoal walls and a sleek backlit sign above the check in desk with the most gorgeous chandeliers you’ve ever seen, like fireworks frozen in their fullest burst. To the side people sit on velvet green chairs that surround a gold hammered coffee table, noses glued to their phones.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrored elevator doors, standing taller when you notice your slouch. There is no need to slouch tonight, you look and feel amazing. Dressed in an elegant black halter gown with a thick embellishment of pearls on the neckline, you kept your jewelry simple with a delicate gold bracelet, letting the dress and bold red lipstick stand out.  

“Y/N!” a woman’s voice beamed, and you spotted the reflection of Maria Hill in the mirror.

You turned around, finding yourself in her tight embrace. You always got along well with her, but you didn’t think your former boss would be this happy to see you. She introduced you to a man you had seen only in pictures, Tony’s friend James Rhodes who he had always called Rhodey, and while she walked in on his arm you didn’t want to assume anything.  

The elevator ride up to the penthouse was filled with small talk, Maria couldn’t believe how much had changed since she last saw you. She handed you her card, “That’s my mobile,” she said with a hint of an Australian accent peeking through, encouraging you to call and catch up while she’s in town.

Rhodey extended his arm across the elevator doors, allowing you and Maria to exit first. You were stunned looking around the space rented for the event. Floor to ceiling glass walls gave a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline. The outdoor balcony was grand, with stylish seating and candlelit tables.

Tony walked out from around a corner, looking sharp in a designer suit and perfectly knotted bow tie. He was accompanied by a woman in all black, the event planner who clutched a tablet in hand, her head whipping around in all directions as she spoke to him visually scoping the space for any last minute issues that needed tending to.

He smiled as he spotted the three of you, his eyes lifting with acknowledgment before he could come over. Pepper had come out from somewhere behind you, stunning in a twilight blue satin dress. More people who were part of The September Foundation team quickly filed in from the elevator taking your attention away from lingering on the tiny protrusion below Pepper’s waist, your suspicions confirmed later when she refused a glass of champagne. A lot of things had changed indeed.

When the gala was officially opened you were meeting and greeting with so many faces, repeating yourself a few dozen times though never losing enthusiasm. This was so important and you really hoped tonight’s event was not only a celebration of everyone’s hard work but a reminder for those with philanthropic abilities to continue supporting this community outreach program.

Familiar faces in the crowd made you light up brighter than the sun. You greeted Natasha, Wanda and Steve, all dressed impeccably for the event. “Where’s Clint?” you asked.

“Where else?” Natasha chuckled, pointing towards him stalking a tray of bacon wrapped dates.

Wanda apologized for Sam, he was working tonight in the ER and obviously couldn’t make it.

“Peggy sends her regards as well,” Steve chimed in. “She had to fly back to England for some family business.”

You understood, almost all of your friends were there at least but not everyone. You had thought about inviting Bucky but extending an invitation to Claire didn’t feel right and purposely not inviting her felt worse. And after your stomach felt like it got flipped upside down you gave up on the thought altogether. You and Bucky weren’t friends anymore and you’re not sure you ever could be again.

“I don’t see Peter,” Steve said.

Wanda and Natasha were no longer beside him and you felt comfortable enough to whisper, “I broke up with him.”

You knew things weren’t the same anymore. It began when Peter showed a lack of respect and concern when you couldn’t graduate on time but even after he apologized you knew it was over the moment he told you he loved you and you couldn’t say it back. You didn’t love Peter. You had fun with him, you enjoyed his company but you didn’t love him and you would never be in love with him.

The breakup happened shortly after your last night together, when The Music Man reminded you that you did love someone once and even if they didn’t feel the same you owed it to yourself to be with someone you could love. It felt weird not telling your friends about what happened but with The September Foundation opening and finishing up the hours at Metro-General you really didn’t have a lot of time to focus on anything else.

Besides, you didn’t need them for this. Breaking up with Peter didn’t hurt because you knew it was the right thing to do, although saying goodbye to Rocket and Groot was terrible.

Steve clenched his jaw, swallowing before he asked, “Does he know?”

Your brow creased. “Who?”

“Bucky.”

What difference would it make if Bucky knew? Bucky chose to be with someone else. You weren’t good enough in his opinion so what is the point? Your breakup has no effect on his relationship.

You held your tongue, remembering where you were. With a frustration laced sigh you answered, “It doesn’t matter Steve. He–”

Before you could finish, Tony stood beside you and interrupted, “I’m so sorry, could I bother the lovely Miss Y/L/N? There are a few people I’d like her to speak with. Tony Stark, by the way,” Tony said, extending his hand towards Steve even as his feet began walking in the opposite direction.

Steve understood, this was technically work related but he wished he could have told you the truth about Bucky and Claire. He let out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was even his place but he was tired of the two of you ignoring the truth. You insisted on never speaking about Bucky, cutting Steve off if even tried to say something and Bucky was just as bad. He told Steve about his breakup with Claire but when your name came up it was too painful to hear.

He shook his head with frustration; Steve can’t believe he is friends with the two biggest idiots in the world, idiots that couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

He debated texting Bucky, telling him to come down here and profess his feelings in a grand way but he didn’t. You would definitely hate that, not wanting to take any attention away from the important organization that actually mattered, and besides Bucky was busy at his own event tonight, the screening for a movie he scored. Steve sighed again, grabbing a glass of champagne off a tray and drinking it quickly, hoping that one day soon you and Bucky can finally work this out.

Your feet ached all the way home until you finally stepped through the door and pulled them off, the wood a cool relief on your soles. Your dress was hung back up and you slipped into comfortable pajamas and a tank top. You spot the breakfast pajama bottoms, happy faced foods staring back at you wondering why you haven’t worn them in months. It was stupid, you loved those pajamas but you couldn’t put them on since Bucky wore them.

A tear slips slowly down your cheek as you think of his runway walk but you convince yourself it's just the water you’ve splashed on your face as you take off your makeup. You’re thoroughly exhausted after tonight and yet floating on a cloud carried by joy as everything worked out.

You completed your internship hours this past weekend and though you did have to wait until December you were going to graduate, officially. The September Foundation was going to keep you busy until then as you were asked to stay on to oversee everything and help it run smoothly. You were optimistic but Tony said to always be prepared for the worst. His words rang true in your head as you received a phone call from Sam an hour or two after you shut your eyes.

Harsh puffs blew out from his nose and mouth as if he was trying to catch his breath. He sounded relieved when you answered though his voice was unsteady, “Y/N, come down here quick. It’s Bucky... there was an accident.”

PART 25

[httpsmultifandom]

Home // Tate Langdon

word count: 2k

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Two years have passed since the Westfield High shooting. Tate, who was your on-and-off boyfriend at the time, had a mental break and went, full-on psycho. You weren't at school that day luckily because your 6-month-old daughter at the time had been sick. Tate was a good father from the looks of it. He loved to teach her new things and hold her every time she was around. After his death, there seemed to be a void in her and your life. This brings you here in front of your former lover’s house.

As the memories of the once-happy family that lived here rushed back, a small stream of tears began to run down your cheeks. Though your daughter wasn't raised by Tate. It seemed as if she felt comfortable on the property which he once lived and died on. As you opened the gate Lydia immediately stopped fussing and seemed to be in a trance of some sort. Noticing this you kissed her head and walked towards the double doors.

Taking a deep breath in you tried to hold tears back as you pondered on the life that you and Lydia could have lived if Tate had not decided to let his destructive mental state get the better of him. As you gripped the doorknob with your free hand, your palms began to sweat in anticipation. Finally gaining the courage, you entered the now-empty home. It smelled of dust but was surprisingly clean as if someone or something was still living there. “Hello,” you called out making sure nobody was there. With no response, you made your way over to the living room. The floorboards creaking under your feet as you moved from room to room. Once inside the living room, you made your way over to the large window, opening the curtains to let some light come into the house. The sun was warm and comforting feeling as if you had just received the most tender hug. Looking down at Lydia you examined her soft features. Though she had your attitude she was almost identical to Tate when it came to looks.

Just as you were about to set Lydia down on the wooden floors you had heard a small noise coming from the kitchen. Alarmed at this you quickly picked her up and headed toward the door. Reaching towards the handle you pulled but to your surprise, it was now locked. Frightened at the thought of being in the house any longer you quickly moved your way to the back door. Just as the door entered your line of vision a voice called out. “Y/N?” The strong southern accent rang through your ears making you whip your head around. “Constance,” you said in disbelief walking toward her. You and Mrs. Langdon have kept in touch over the years due to her never-ending need to be involved in her grandchild’s life. To say that she was a great grandmother would be an understatement. You often tied this back to her being a mother herself who not only loved her kids but unfortunately lost all of them.

“What in the world are you doing here,” she said sternly pulling a cigarette out from between her lips. “I just thought that maybe Lydia would want to see where her dad used to live,” you lied. Truth be told you missed Tate more than anything in the world and you thought that coming back to the house in which he once lived you could somehow become closer to him. “I think you should leave.” You furrowed your eyebrows confused at her sudden erratic behavior. “Constance, as far as I’m aware you don’t own this house anymore. You cant kick me out,” you said. “I suppose you’re correct. But really Y/N why are you here?” she said lifting her cancer stick up to her lips. “I miss Tate.” you looked down at your daughter as her big brown eyes glistened in the sunlight just like her fathers used to. Constance cleared her throat ending the peaceful silence. “Can I tell you something Y/N,” she asked. “Anything.” “This house is one of a kind truly. It seems as if whoever lives here, dies here, or is born here never actually leaves. Sure you could walk out of those double doors right now but a part of you even if it’s small will stay trapped in these walls.” she said putting out her cigarette in the small ashtray placed to her side. “What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying that if you came here in hopes of finding someone or something you’ll find it but perhaps not in the way you’d expect.” With that, she left leaving you and Lydia alone in the dreary home. A little puzzled at what she said you made your way to the wooden stairs. Gripping the cold railing with your free hand you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Unsettled by this you hesitantly made your way up the stairs. While you turned to climb the second flight of stairs you saw a dark figure out of the corner of your eye. Remembering what Constance said you pushed any negative thoughts to the side and continued up the stairs.

The second floor was just as you remembered it. Memories of you and Tate flooded your brain as you made your way to his former bedroom. As you approached the door you felt a wave of cold wind come over your body. Lydia who was sitting on your hip began to mumble quietly which was something she only did when you entered the room. Confused at this you slowly made your way into the bedroom. To your surprise, the bedroom was just the way you had remembered it as if Tate was still occupying the space. You hesitantly made your way to the bed which was placed in the middle of the room you placed Lydia down. Scanning the walls your eyes made their way to his bedside table. There sat a picture of him you and newborn Lydia. Picking up the frame tears started to build upon your water line before one single tear fell landing on your cheek. You smiled thinking about the love you still had for Tate.

“God I wish he was still here,” you said in a soft whisper as you set the picture frame down.

You looked over your shoulder. Your eyes widen seeing an empty bed where your daughter once resided. “Lydia,” you yelled looking all around the room but finding her to no avail. Your heart began to beat out of your chest as anxiety rushed over your body. Running out of the bedroom you looked down the hallway.

There they were. Your daughter and the father she never knew. “TATE,” you shouted running over to him embracing him in the most passionate hug. As your head laid on his chest tears of joy and confusion poured out wetting his sweater. Pulling away you looked up at his facing scanning his features. They were just as you remembered them but something felt wrong, he felt distant. Pulling his hands into yours you looked up into his eyes. “How is this possible,” you asked tilting your head to the side. Prior to this things such as ghosts and ghouls seemed to be fake little stories people would tell on Halloween but now seeing Tate you knew that those stories were anything but. “I’m still not quite sure myself but that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is you me and her,” Tate said looking down at Lydia. “Tate..” You paused moving his chin to look back at you. “Never leave us again, please. It’s terrifying,” you said as rows of tears donned your cheeks. Looking down into your bloodshot eyes Tate raised his hands to your face lightly cupping your cheeks. “As long as you don’t leave me.” A smile crept its way onto your lips as you pulled Tate by his sweater planting a passionate kiss on his lips to which he quickly reciprocated.

Pulling away from your lover’s lips you both look down at Lydia. Smiling you bent down to retrieve her off the floor before lifting her to your hip. “She looks just like you doesnt she?” You looked down at your daughter. He frace lit up when she looked at Tate as if she already knew him. Noticing this Tate bore a toothy smile. A smile which youve been deprived of for what felt like a lifetime. Letting the two of them have their father-daughter bonding time you made your way back to Tates bedroom after placing a kiss on both of their cheeks.

As you waited in Tates room you snooped a bit. Looking at his old books which held information about birds and other miscellaneous things. How could this all be possible? Why hasn’t he reached out? Why hasn’t Constance told me about this? As questions clouded your mind you hadn’t noticed Tate and Lydia entering the room. “Having fun,” Tate said while sitting down on his bed before placing Lydia on his lap. You looked over your shoulder giving him a sweet smile. “So much fun,” you said standing up from the now book-covered floor.

Sitting down beside Tate you gently placed your head on his shoulder reveling in the fact that you two were finally together again. “It’s been hell not being able to see you two,” Tate said looking down at your now sleeping daughter before giving you a soft look. “Same here. I really wish you could’ve been there for her as an infant. But if it makes it any better her first word was dad,” you said looking up into his dark eyes. “Really?” “Yeah. I showed her pictures of you and pointed to you to show her who her dad is.” A smile stretched across his face before looking back down at Lydia. “She’s perfect.”

A few hours had passed since you had arrived with Lydia and it was starting to get dark out. “Hey Tate…” His head shot up from admiring his daughter. “Yes.” “I was wondering if Lydia could stay the night?” After thinking about it for a few seconds Tate responded. “I don’t see how one night could hurt,” Tate said looking up at you with a warm smile. Walking over to Tate you gave him a quick kiss before heading over to his drawer to grab something to wear. As you searched through his drawers you found a polaroid photo of yourself from one of your first dates. “You kept this?” “Of course.” Standing up he set your sleeping daughter on the bed giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. Making his way over to you he placed his hand on the small of your back whilst taking the photo out of your hand and examining it. “I remember it like it was yesterday. The beach, the food,...the sex. All of it,” he said looking down at you. To say that you stayed celibate during Tates absence would be a lie though it never personal due to only wanting to have Lydia in your life. “It’s getting late I should probably get some sleep,” you said pulling out one of Tates old Sex Pistoles shirts. Walking over to Tates bed you stripped down to your underwear before throwing on the oversized shirt. Tate’s eyes watched you steadily as you slipped each piece of clothing off of your warm body. You could feel his eyes burning through your back as he radiated sexual frustration.

Climbing onto the bed next to your sleeping daughter you patted your side wanting Tate to come to lay with you. Noticing this small act Tate made his way over to you making sure that he was as close to you as possible. “I love you,” Tate whispered. “I love you more.” With that, you shut your eyes and let the sweet embrace of sleep take over your body.