#genuinely its really difficult for me to wrap my head around the idea of using TIM of all people in an arc about like. what.

[cleromancy]

"tim needs to get a new mantle he didnt steal from his siblings" wrong. Say hello to the new huntress

[benedictscanvas]

Hi loveee❤️

So i have a request for Steve Rogers x reader

So basically the reader is shy! Insecure maybe

She is really quiet and has a badd crush on the captain but is not able to express her feelings necessarily. Overthinks alot. It's Steve's birthday and she works really hard on knitting a scarf because he once told her his ma used to knit him scarves. She writes a sweet letter for him along with it finally expressing her feelings. On his birthday they sit around and he decides to open everyone's gifts. She starts thinking her gift is nothing compared to tony's bmw or nat's gold wrist watch and basically tells him that she had ordered his gift but it got delayed. He finds out about her scarf and letter and confronts her💕

Ends with alot of fluffff 😌❤️

Ik this is all over the place but i needed to vent this idea here😂

This is utterly adorable and so are youuuu, thank you for a gorgeous request, my lovely <3 I got a little carried away with it! || 2.2k words of pure fluff

The little parcel is wrapped in deep red paper, tied with a crisp blue ribbon and the ends are curled with scissors. You've hidden it underneath the sofa where you're sat in its corner, both feet on the floor in an extra attempt to conceal its whereabouts. It's difficult not to be a little embarrassed by the effort you've put into it, but you keep reminding yourself the kind of person Steve is. How much he appreciates effort above end result.

But still, the reason it's hidden at all is in case you bottle it and can't hand it to him. You feel safer with a get out clause.

"Go on, Cap, start with me. We all know you save the best til first."

Tony, of course, is the one to kick proceedings off by handing Steve a golden envelope. So extreme, and funnily enough, so not Steve. But you knew that theatrics were Tony's thing and that whatever was inside would likely be perfect for him.

And you were right. Inside the envelope were two tickets to see the new play on Broadway that Steve had been dying to see. Tickets were so scarce even the Avengers themselves had been having trouble securing them, but Tony was a cut above the rest. Steve looked genuinely thrilled, far more than he had when he'd seen the envelope.

"This is too kind, Tony, thank you. Really."

A look of understanding passed between them. There was a lump in your throat. You subtly adjusted your foot so that your heel nudged the present further under the sofa.

"We get it, he's very rich," Sam said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, "But mine's a knockout, seriously. You're gonna crap yourself, Tin Man."

He launched a present across the room at Steve who caught it with little effort, but shook his head at the room's antics. This mass present opening had, of course, not been his idea. He would much rather have done all this individually with everyone, or better yet, not done it at all and have nobody even remember that it was his birthday. But they'd all insisted behind his back. Obviously. You'd been there, and wanted to speak up about whether it would really be Steve's thing, but you didn't want to sound like you were knocking their kindness.

Sam had bought him a new sketchbook, but it was circular, and bore the design of his shield on the front. Thoughtful and, again, expensive, according to Steve, who had immediately examined the quality of the paper inside with wide, appreciative eyes.

Nat had bought him a new watch, and swore she got it completely legally and above board. That was expensive too. Vision and Wanda produced a gorgeous vintage record player that she had apparently enchanted to play whatever Steve wanted to hear. Bruce had built him an actual motorbike.

It was all a bit much. Yes, you were an Avenger too and you could afford whatever you would have wanted to get Steve, but you'd really thought homemade would be a million times more appreciated. Would show just how important he had become to you.

Unlike Bruce, unfortunately your version of homemade could not include a new bike.

Everyone's presents came and went while you were stuck in your own head, struggling not to hyperventilate, until Bucky placed a friendly hand on your shoulder.

"Just you left, doll."

You hadn't even seen what Bucky had given him, lost in your own musings. You were sure it would have been beautiful, Bucky knew him inside out. It was clear that your mind had been made up, anyway. You plastered a sheepish look on your face that wasn't all that made up.

"I meant to say before we started, your present hasn't arrived yet, Steve," you said, sorrowful, even though he was smiling at you as if what you'd said had no meaning, "I'm really sorry. I'll get it to you as soon as its here."

"I hope you know that none of you had to get me anything anyway," he said honestly, looking around the room before his gaze landed back on you, "Please don't worry."

You smiled, small and unconvincing, nodding your agreement. You rose from your seat, assuming the proceedings had finished for now before the not-so-surprise party later that evening. You delivered a final back-heeled kick to the present as you stood up, just to make sure it was fully under the sofa.

"I'm still sorry," you said quietly, "I need to go and get ready, I'll see you all later."

You turned and all but fled the room, not staying to hear Tony's confusion about you not usually needing any time at all to get ready for anything. You had specifically been trying not to make a scene, and somehow you'd made one anyway. It was difficult to keep the tears in your eyes at bay.

You just felt silly. It was something you hadn't really felt since high school until this year, and now you often felt a little silly anytime you left Steve's presence. He was just so good and so unbelievably attractive and made you feel so utterly at home when you spent time with him - it was difficult not to feel silly afterwards when you lay on your bed and romanticised your every interaction.

When you were actually with him, though, he never made you feel silly. He made you feel funny and intelligent and altogether giddy sometimes, but never silly. The way he valued your words, your opinions, your company, it was impossible for your heart not to skip inside your chest.

You retreated to your bed now, flopping down right in the centre of it, tired and crying. Just a little bit. He was so kind to you, all the time. He would've pretended he loved the scarf. He would've liked it, probably, but he couldn't love it, not when it was such a tiny gesture compared with everyone else's.

And the note. Shit, amongst all the dread and anxiety, you had forgotten the note. Neatly taped to the parcel and longer than it should have been. For Steve's eyes only. Practically a confession. If you hadn't have fled, you would've been forced to give that to him in front of anyone, which categorically could not happen.

"Y/N? You in there?"

Steve. You froze, then hastily wiped at your eyes, checking them in the mirror. They were a little red, but you hoped he wasn't feeling observant on his birthday. Plastering on a smile, you opened the door. He filled the entire doorframe, all broad shoulders and-

You tried to stop that thought before it blossomed.

"Sorry, just picking out an outfit. Everything okay?"

"I came to ask you that," he said, and he almost looked embarrassed but you had no idea why, "Why wouldn't you give me your present?"

You frowned.

"I told you-"

He brought the parcel, your parcel, out from behind his back. Ah. You must have kicked it hard enough for it to come out the other side. Stupid. The embarrassment suddenly made sense. He gestured for you to let him inside, since you were still blocking the entrance, so you traipsed over to sit on your bed. If he was looking embarrassed, you guessed he'd read the note. This was torture.

"I haven't opened it," he said quickly, shutting your down and sitting next to you. He kept his distance, "And I won't, if you don't want me to. But I'd really, really like to, if you'll let me."

"You read the note?" you asked, slumped and resigned to your fate, surprised by the confusion that darted across his features. You noticed the present was the wrong way up. He hadn't turned it over. For some reason, maybe self-destruction or a cruel strand of hope, you turned it over for him, to the side where the bow and the note were on full display. Untouched.

"I didn't see it," he murmured to himself, "Can I?"

Still he waited for your permission. Such a lovely man, with such lovely eyes that, even now, were looking at you with delicate care. It ached. You nodded.

He untied the bow with careful fingers that almost looked shaky in the low lamp light you'd curated within your room. The envelope was opened with equal care, and soon he was holding the A5 paper in front of his face, eyes scanning through the words.

Steve,

You told me once that your ma used to knit you scarves, that sometimes you wished you still had one of them now. I know it could never be the same, but I hope this keeps you warmer than you would be without it. One of your gifts, I think, is to bring warmth to everyone around you and the warmth you have brought to my own life is indescribable. I could never repay it, but this is a step in the right direction, I hope.

Happy birthday, Steve.

Yours, Y/N

You held your breath as he read. You could remember each line painstakingly, having taken so long to craft it. Even he wasn't oblivious enough not to recognise the meaning behind your words, the feeling that weaved itself around the page.

It had been too long. When you braved a glance at his face, his eyeline told you he was reading it a second time. You watched him get to the end and start from the beginning. Again.

You may have been unbelievably nervous, but it didn't erase your impatience.

"You're going to have to say something at some point, Steve," you breathed, not realised how out of breath you'd gotten just watching him. His eyes snapped to yours like he'd forgotten you were there. Wide and disbelieving. Impossible to read, "Or you can just leave, I guess, if you want. We don't have to talk about it again, it was such a stupid-"

He shook his head, stopping your train of thought from spiralling. But instead of speaking, he set the letter down neatly on his lap and ripped open the wrapping paper, pulling out a knitted scarf that was striped brown and beige and designed to match his leather jacket perfectly. You'd searched for the right yarn for weeks. You'd never tell him.

"How long?"

His words were little more than a whisper. There were so many things he could have been talking about.

"How long what?"

"How long did it take?" he said, turning the fabric over in his hands, running his fingers over the stitches with fingers that were definitely trembling now, "To make it, I mean?"

"Oh, not long-" you began, but stopped when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. You felt that lump in your throat again. You'd never seen him cry. It was impossible to tell him anything but the truth, "A few months. Whenever I had a free moment and not every single day, but a few months. Five, actually."

He just stared. You kept talking.

"I just wanted it special for you. I'm sorry I lied. Everyone spent so much, I got embarrassed. It was silly."

"Not silly," he said, firm and serious, like he was angry you'd even think it, "You're not silly. You're perfect, this is perfect. I can't- I can't believe you'd remember such a tiny comment from so long ago."

You shrugged. He'd just called you perfect and you were trying not to glow.

"You'd remember. You always remember things I've said, however small or silly. Wanted someone to do that for you."

"You're not silly, you've never been silly," he says again, clutching the scarf and staring down at it again rather than you, "I only remember that stuff because I'm so in love with you I can't stand it. I never thought you'd-"

Now you were lightheaded. Had he...? He was still staring at the scarf, awestruck and looking completely oblivious to what he'd just said. But he meant it. Steve never said anything he didn't mean. Now you were glowing, bursting, grinning and you didn't try to stop it.

"You never thought I'd be so in love with you too that I can barely breathe with it?" you supplied, watching again as his watery eyes snapped up to yours once more, shock bleeding from him, "You thought wrong, I guess. Surprise."

You giggled at yourself, because you were talking nonsense and Steve loved you. It was heaven when he giggled too, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, not the scarf, and then offering you the material. You took it wordlessly, understanding between you as there always was, and wound it around his neck. It fit perfectly.

He took your hand from the scarf you were adjusting before you could react and kissed your thumb. At your sheer delight, he kissed your forefinger, then your middle, ring, pinky and then right back up to the thumb, tiny little kisses. He stared at your hand.

"Magic," he said softly, taking your hand and his to cup your cheek. You couldn't help but close your eyes, "Promise me you'll never feel embarrassed with me again. I can't bear it. You're just magic, you have to see it."

For him, you could try. For now, all you could do was lean in to kiss him and hope you'd get to do it forever.

if you'd like to request something, please do so here. i'd love to hear from you, sunflower <3

[starlightiing]

💗+yukierre please?

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

Yukierre my beloveds <3 I struggled with this all day between meetings and other things. I hope it ended up okay.

It's difficult to make a hotel room warm and comforting, Yuki has come to learn. Difficult, or perhaps even damn-near impossible. No amount of fluffy throw blankets, candles, or appropriate mood lighting have been able to capture the essence of calm that he's hoped for. The lavender smells nice, sure. The blankets look cozy, sure. The lighting is dim and gentle, soft on the eyes - yeah, sure.

But is it enough? Does it bring the comfort needed to someone after a stressful day?

"What is this, Yuki?" Pierre's voice filters in from the entrance to the suite, and, well, he's out of time now to make it any better. He will just have to find out, soon enough.

"You made it here quicker than I thought." Yuki greets him with a tight smile, stepping out from the livingspace and over to the kitchenette where Pierre is softly closing the door behind him. Exhaustion is written into Pierre's features, a stark contrast to the bright smiles and comfortable, relaxed posture he is so used to from Pierre. It makes something inside of Yuki's chest ache viciously.

"I wanted to get away from those assholes." Pierre replies simply, his eyes darting around the room. "Now tell me, what is this?"

Yuki decides not to ask who 'those assholes' are in specific - though he's fairly certain he has a good idea. Dwelling on the events of the day is the last thing he wants for Pierre, though, so he eagerly accepts the change of subject.

"Uh, for you. It's...relaxing?"

"Are you asking me this, or telling me this?" A smirk curls its way back to Pierre's lips and Yuki wonders if he should feel so relieved to see someone smile again.

Then again, he supposes he's never really felt any semblancy of normalcy when it comes to Pierre.

"Telling you. You said your day was stressful, so I wanted to..." Yuki gestures around behind him, to the blankets carefully adorned on the couch and the candles flickering on either end table. "Make it better."

"You-" Pierre looks absolutely astonished for a moment, eyes widening as the realization seems to sink in for him. "Because I am having a bad day?" He asks, incredulous.

"Is it too much? I just wanted it to be calm." Yuki circles Pierre's wrist with his fingers, leading him gently over to the couch. He picks up one of the blankets - the extra fluffy one, of course - and wraps it around Pierre like a cape. "Now lay down with me here."

Yuki is first to toss himself down on the couch, spreading his legs apart and opening his arms up as an invitation for Pierre to fit himself into Yuki like a puzzle piece. There's still a faint expression of disbelief on Pierre's face as he crawls onto the couch, but the ease in which he slots himself into the empty space around Yuki is such a beautiful thing. Before Pierre can rest his head down on Yuki's chest, Yuki grabs hold of his cheeks with both hands and smiles at him.

"I hope this can help you to feel better, Pierre." he says, leaning in to capture Pierre's lips in a kiss. It's soft and slow, gentle in every way - and Pierre does not push for any more than Yuki is willing to give right now. Their breathing echoes in the otherwise still silence of the room, loud and passionate, with the occasional hum of contentment at the much needed affection between them.

When they break apart, Yuki can see that Pierre's cheeks are flushed and he's breathing a bit harder - but most importantly, he's smiling. One of those real, genuine smiles that captures every ounce of light Yuki knows exists within Pierre's heart.

"You spoil me too much, Yuki." Pierre whispers after a few moments, leaning over to press a kiss to Yuki's cheek before settling himself down comfortably against his chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Yuki says in response, his hands immediately working their way through Pierre's hair. It's getting long - but Yuki doesn't mind it at all. It's just as soft and as silky as ever, and it smells faintly of vanilla and tea tree oil. "Relax now. You earned it, I think."

Pierre chuckles softly against Yuki's chest, nuzzling into the warmth and comfort without a single moment of hesitation.

"Only if you promise to kiss me like that again soon."

Now it's Yuki's turn to laugh, his heart soaring up into the clouds with the amount of affection he has bursting through him for this man. This silly, handsome, ridiculous man.

"Yeah, it's a deal."

[notwarriorswiki]

After you finish the Po12 AU are you going to do the other series? :D

Haha well since I’ll never quite finish writing Power of Twelve, I can say I did plan everything for after it’s arc, so that includes Alderheart, Bristlefrost, and Nightheart for instance. Everything post Power of Three is pretty different with elements of their original tales, however for me the narrative and story direction in terms of overarching plot really started to devolve for me after Power of Three. I suppose it became a bit too ethereal for my tastes? Also the rules of the universe weren’t always clear, something that makes theorizing and understanding rather difficult.

An example I’ll use is Bramblestar during his possession arc. The way they wrote Ashfur essentially “digging a hole” into the Dark Forest border and how that somehow gave him more control was very difficult to wrap my head around. I think what I strived to do was write the story in a way that the fantasy elements can be used to keep those ideas, but changing them in ways to ground the story within the rules it has set for this world.

Power of Twelve was merged with Omen of the Stars as I thought both series wasted a lot of time on things that didn’t matter. Coughs on Sign of the Moon

A Vision of Shadows keeps its title but is changed a lot narratively. Darktail is still the villain but there’s a surprising secondary antagonist as well, as well as the overall plot timeline being longer so Violetshine and Twigshade (yes, she’s renamed) are a bit older by the end.

The Broken Code keeps it’s title less for changes in the narrative that reflect it, but rather due to the end of A Vision of Shadows. Ashfur is cut entirely from the narrative so major differences.

Finally a Starless Clan has a few ideas, but ultimately I’m going to wait how it plays out to determine what changes fit my narrative and what I genuinely like about it. For instance, I have no clue if I’ll actually enjoy the reason for Mistystar’s death or if I’ll be snapped out of the story when we learn the truth like I was with Ashfur in The Broken Code.

[allastoredeer]

Okay, so, I was going to write this in the tags originally, but it was getting long, and from experience, if the tags go on too long it just cuts them off.

So, thoughts are going here I guess.

Firstly!

Me, genuinely confused: People think Alastor's bad ace representation because he's a serial killer???

What???? Excuse me?? 🤣

I don't know why I find that so funny, but I do. That's the silliest shit I've ever heard.

Heaven forbid aces do anything. 🙄

Secondly!

Your so right OP. Alastor is fantastic ace representation.

I agree with all the points you have above, but I'd also like to include one thing I especially love about Alastor's character and how it relates to his aceness is how fun and silly he is.

Murderous, manipulative, and immoral, for SURE.

But look at this man

He's the silliest. He's fun. He's aloof in the sense that we no fuck all about it him and his motives, but otherwise he's so openly goofy and (as one person put it) "girly pop" which is a term I personally love.

So often, you see ace characters written as stiff, unfeeling, unable to comprehend emotions, and unable to navigate certain social situations (which is why there's so many comparisons/"ace representation" in robots and/or nonorganics).

Yes, aces can be socially awkward, experience difficulty navigating certain situations, have a hard time wrapping their head around certain emotions/concepts, (for me, personally, its the whole concept about people getting "hot and bothered" when they see someone they find attractive. You mean to tell its a LITERAL thing. People actually get hot and bothered? That's not just a silly little phrase they use? Ya'll temperature actually be rising?? Fucking wild!)

However, all of the above? Literally EVERYONE experiences them. Anyone can be socially awkward, it can be difficult for anyone to navigate certain situations, and ANYONE can have a hard time wrapping their head around certain emotions and concepts (see allosexuals having a hard time wrapping their head around the idea that someone doesn't experience sexual or romantic attraction when its such a normal and natural thing for them - like how the opposite can be true for aces (let's all remember, though, asexuality IS a spectrum!)

Back to my previous point, Alastor doesn't come off as stiff, anti-social, robotic, or unfeeling in any way.

He's goofy, he's fun! He dances, he acts silly, he's dark, he's complex, has multiple platonic relationships, experiences a RANGE of emotions in the show. He's well-rounded and dynamic! He's funny and entertaining!

As an acearo, I have never felt more connected to a character! I love the relationships I have in my life, I'm a silly goofy person, I'm socially awkward at times, sure--who the fuck aint??--but I can navigate situations that make me uncomfortable. I feel so many emotions, and it's not hard for me to wrap my head around the concepts of love and sex, because really, they aren't that deep.

Human beings are complex and multi-faceted, and its that that gives concepts like these their depth.

Just because I don't feel sexual or romantic attraction doesn't mean I don't read nor write love stories. I've written smut, I've written long, plot heavy, emotion heavy, romance heavy, smutty fanfic exploring the dynamic of a ship I like. Just because I, myself, do not experience these things, doesn't mean I can't understand them.

I've never been shot by a gun before, but I know it fucking hurts. I know it'll leave trauma. I know it'll take a long time to heal. I know there will be physical therapy, medication, doctor visits, hurt, pain, and ups and downs all to along the way.

Being ace-aro doesn't mean you can't empathize, understand, or relate to what allosexuals feel and experience.

Alastor has made no implications at being uncomfortable with other people relationships or love. He doesn't know he's ace, sure, but the only time we've seen him uncomfortable with the idea of sex is in episode 1 when Angel suggested making a porno with him, and even then, he didn't seem necessarily uncomfortable, he just very firmly denounces the very suggestion ("Ha! Never going to happen.") There was also the moment in the pilot when Angel said he could suck his dick, in which we got the radio noise and him saying "No thank you!" I'd say that radio noise is the closest we've got him with displaying discomfort with sex.

He's never come off as being weirded out seeing other peoples romantic relationships (see Charlie and Vaggie). He's just...not interested. That's it.

Of course, I've seen fan art, headcanons, and fic of him being flustered and uncomfortable witnessing sexual situations (love them, always reblog), and I can totally see and understand that for his character, but as for the show itself, we haven't gotten a ton of evidence that he's viscerally uncomfortable with such things.

All of this is to say, Alastor is fantastic ace representation, he's a fun, intriguing, well-rounded, multi-faceted character who is truly entertaining to watch! He breaks all those sterotypes about aces being stiff, anti-social, unfeeling people who don't understand relationships.

Him being a serial killer is the silliest, stupidest reason to claim he's not good ace representation. Seriously, what are ya'll on?

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

I know that some aros/aces are kind of disappointed with Alastor as representation, what with him being an evil cannibalistic serial killer and all. However, I think that Alastor is not only non-problematic aroace representation, he’s actually GOOD rep. Here’s why:

1. Even if you consider Alastor a villain, there are a lot of character MORE villainous than him—often with their sexuality being part of their scumminess. For instance, Adam would be way less gross if he didn’t sexualize all the women around him, and Valentino wouldn’t be able to be nearly as harmful if he were less lustful.

2. In contrast, Alastor being aroace is portrayed *positively*, often actively humanizing him—something extremely refreshing. Rosie knowing Alastor’s sexuality when he’s unaware of it himself is a huge indicator of their friendship. Along with Alastor’s deer-in-the-headlights responses to Angel Dust’s flirting, it also shows that Alastor isn’t as all-knowing and put-together as he can seem. Plus, it’s clear that even if Alastor is manipulative towards Charlie, he’s not being predatory towards her like THAT.

3. Alastor also breaks several stereotypical aroace tropes in a way that’s nice to see. He’s not a loner. He’s very good at understanding people and navigating social interactions. He’s happy to take on a parental role. He puts his hand on people’s shoulders, gives hugs, and happily engages in partner dancing. I’ve seen some people write Alastor as being uncomfortable with physical contact, but TBH I’ve seen him give (and comfortably receive) more physical affection than most people I know.

4. Alastor lets us get the great ace version of the “Your daughter calls me daddy too,” joke. Which i think is WAY funnier than the allo version.

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

��now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan 

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments. 

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son. 

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head. 

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals. 

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal 

at first you froze in shock, and  megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High 

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe. 

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around. 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[unhealthyfanobsession]

If you’re still taking prompts:

“Keeping a secret from your best friend is difficult... but when that secret is that you're madly in love with her, it's downright impossible. At least that's what Cassian thought, until he was a little tipsy and sharing a sleeping bag with said best friend. (College, modern AU)”

With smut please?🧎🏾‍♀️🙏🏽👀🥺

Oh hey bestie! So I think maybe you had like after a college party in mind for this but I went a… different way. Also it’s only smut-adjacent because I think good smut requires a Drabble of its own I think I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy!!!

Camping.

Nesta had two weeks between the end of her internship and the beginning of her last year of college, and somehow, she let herself get dragged along on her sister’s annual camping trip.

Their whole friend group was weird and twisted around like Ivy vines with who was closest to who, who was related to who, who was dating who, who had slept with who’s father (looking at you MOR!), and Nesta tended to avoid the big group things.

But this was only Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and the real reason she was there… Cassian. Fucking Cassian dragging her off into the woods.

Nesta loved her sisters. She did. She wouldn’t spend time with them and pretend she didn’t hate their boyfriends if she didn’t love them. (Pretending not to hate Rhys and Lucien, for Nesta, pretty much required the energy of a full time job.)

She loved her sisters. But she was there for Cassian. Because she liked Cassian. Genuinely and entirely liked him. Nesta Archeron liked another human being. They’d been best friends since eighth grade when he tried to ask her out on the swing set and she elbowed him in the jaw.

Saying yes to that middle school date would’ve been the worst mistake of her life. Because then she’d have had this short drama filled relationship with Cassian and she wouldn’t have gotten to keep him. And she really loved that she got to keep him. Even if sometimes she wished he’d been her first kiss instead of Tomas.

Anyway, when he said he was going on this camping trip Nesta realized she had to go too. Because there was no way she was spending her free time somewhere that he wasn’t. He was her person. The person she wanted to spend her free time with.

“Pathetic,” Cassian grinned, plucking the pack right off of her back as if it weighed no more than a purse. As if she hadn’t been struggling under its weight for the past 4 kilometres.

“I agreed to camping. I didn’t realize a 7 hour hike was involved to get to the damn place.”

“Two hours at most, sweetheart.” Nesta scowled, pretending, as she always did, to hate his little endearments. “And all of the best spots require a hike. Otherwise they’re overcrowded.”

“Maybe overcrowded is a good thing. Maybe overcrowded means loud and safe instead of offering ourselves up to be a bear buffet.”

“I’ll protect you from any bears, I promise, Nes.”

Nesta glared. “You’re going to fight off a bear if it tries to eat me?”

“Of course I am,” Cassian nodded. “These muscles aren’t just for show.”

Nesta laughed. “How sad I’m going to lose my best friend on this trip. Don’t worry I’ll come up with something nice for the tombstone. “Here lies Cassian. Tried to fight a bear so his muscles would have a purpose.”

“I take it back, you can get eaten by the bear.”

“I’m going to shove you in front of the bear.”

Their water break had landed then both a few hundred feet behind Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel, so Cassian kept hold of her backpack as they moved, teasing her that he was still faster with two packs than she was with none.

When they arrived at the little clearing Nesta had to admit it was beautiful. Serene. A big patch of grass surrounded by trees with a stunning view over the mountains from a clearing just a few feet away.

“Worth the hike?” Cassian asked as he set up their tent. That was the deal. If Nesta was going to camp then he had to do all of the work. Because she didn’t know how to do it. Also he had to share his tent with her because seriously? Why would she own a tent? She wasn’t a damn mountain man.

“It is really pretty.”

“I told you you’d like camping, Nesta!” Feyre called out from over fifty feet away where Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta all banded together to force her and Rhys to put their tent. Far away from the other two. Nesta was so not sleeping on the ground AND listening to her little sister have sex all night.

“Cassian?” Consciousness pulled lightly through Cassian’s sleepy mind. “Cass? CASS!” He shot bolt upright, body instinctively turning to Nesta, looking her over, checking her for injuries or any other thing that might have her yelling his name into the pitch black tent.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Cassian laughed. It was probably 3am and she’d just woken him up, and still he was laughing. Man he had it bad.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He made a show of flipping around to face her even though he couldn’t really see her.

“I’m freezing.”

As his eyes adjusted, Cassian looked her over with a frown. She was bundled up in her sleeping bag, wearing his sweater… which he hadn’t given her, but he had discarded in between them before he went to sleep so that was fair game he guessed. It was far from the first time in over a decade of friendship that she’d stolen his sweater, but man… it still did something to him.

“Your sleeping bag isn’t made for below freezing temperatures, is it?”

Nesta stared at him. Blinked. “No. Why would it have to be? It’s August!”

“It’s colder up in the mountains,” Cassian explained. “Especially over night.”

“Great. I’ve been brought into the mountains to freeze to death and now Eris is going to win the gold medal for our year.”

Cassian laughed, “Well I can’t allow that. The horror.” This was probably a bad idea. No it was definitely a bad idea, but the words couldn’t be stopped from leaving his mouth once they popped into his mind. “Come share mine.”

Cassian half unzipped his sleeping bag and made a show of shuffling himself over.

“You’re too big.” She said.

“Thanks I work out,” Nesta glared at his cocky smirk. “Come on Nes, it’s this or letting Eris win the gold medal.”

Nesta huffed, but unzipped her sleeping bag and crawled over to his, her legs were cool as they tangled with his in the tight sleeping bag. Cassian pulled her in, one arm wrapping instinctively around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, before he zipped the sleeping bag up again after her.

This had been such a bad idea. But what could he do? Let her freeze?

Cassian told Nesta everything, so it was already difficult enough to be keeping a secret from his best friend... but when that secret was that he had been madly in love with her since middle school, the situation became impossible. And pulling her perfect body tight up against his and wrapping her in his arms, hands moving up and down her shoulders quickly to try and warm her up, was not helping the situation.

“Thanks,” Nesta murmured sleepily. “I’m already a lot more comfortable.”

Me too, Cassian thought but would never say.

“Hey Cass?” Nesta’s voice was teasing. “What do we do if you wake up with morning wood?”

Cassian chuckled into her hair, a little bit drunk on the familiar scent of rosehips and iron will.

“Then I guess we’ll finally have sex.” He deadpanned.

Nesta’s jaw dropped. Ok. Bad joke. “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a tent Cassian!”

Now Cassian’s jaw dropped. That was her issue with his suggestion? “I… Nesta I was joking. But… the tent is the problem? The only problem?”

“Grow a pair!” Nesta batted at him with her hand, an impressive feat considering she was all but pinned between him and the sleeping bag. “I thought this was you finally making a move.”

Cassian stared down at her. It was pitch black, but even with just the shadowy outlines of her features, he could see her exact expression in his mind.

“I wouldn’t use you freezing as a ploy to make a move, Nesta.”

“And why not?” She humphed, “it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It’s… coercive.”

“Do I look coerced to you, Cassian?” Nesta ran her foot up his bare calf and Cassian shuddered.

“I can’t have sex with you if you’re looking for a friends with benefits, Nes.” Nesta paused her movements. “I… fuck, our friendship means so much to me and I’m so afraid to fuck it up. And if we start having sex I won’t be able to handle it being just sex and you’ll start to resent me so we just… shouldn’t go there.”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around him now, struggling to span the full width of his chest. “And if it wasn’t just sex?”

“Please don’t fuck with me about this,” he whispered. Low and Ernest in a way he almost never was.

“What?”

“Dont joke about this if you’re playing around or I don’t… you have to know, Nes. You have to know how completely in love with you I am.”

“Yeah,” Nesta tucked her head under his chin. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move.”

It was dark. Cassian could barely see her. But there, with his arms around his best friend in the world, sharing a sleeping bag to keep her warm, Cassian nudged her out of his chest and found her lips in the pitch black.

Why had he kept this secret for so long? Everything in the world was better when he was kissing his best friend.

[todourouki]

↲ Back to my BNHA Masterlist

i crash, u crash.

SUMMARY: Being with Dabi wasn’t easy and it probably never will be, but he just wants to make sure you’ll stick around. Or in which Dabi tries his best to show you he cares about you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: based off i crash, u crash by lil peep! lol honestly idk about this one. but welcome back gift for me, from me, to you <3

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Dabi & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,476

WARNINGS: Explicit Content, Dabi is toxic, Angst*, NSFW [18+] including spitting, slight daddy kink, squirting, slight overstimulation.

© todourouki

Sex with Dabi was always the same.

Routinely speaking, whenever he was back from a mission was the time you were expected to be on all fours waiting for his attention. It was always rough too, nothing short of angry and aggressive even if it was a form of “love-making.” He could call it what he wanted to though, he knew the universal term for his type of sex was simply fucking.

The positions and their timings were always on schedule. No more than 3 minutes in missionary— all the time in the world doing everything else. You never really got to touch him, and he’s never let you see his face when he came.

The relationship of hot and fiery sex mixed with an unrequited form of codependency grew to an actual romantic one somehow between the days and nights spent together, yet nothing of the dynamic ever changed. The only thing you could recall is that he groggily asked of you to “finally be his girlfriend since you already acted like it.”

Dabi was a complicated person. You never knew if he planned on waking up and deciding he wanted to be single, and honestly the day he decided to do such a thing wouldn’t be a surprise to you. He was an avid participator in the league of breaking hearts and even if you had more than enough knowledge on this, you allowed his sneaky smirk to seduce you into the sheets of his bed and hours of his days.

You eventually found yourself moving in, figuring out that he refused to sleep without the air conditioner on, never wore socks around the house, used way too much salt on his eggs, and never managed to close the curtains after he got out the shower. Above all that though, he never changed the way he fucked you.

Dabi loves you, of course you never had to question it or get reassurance. He showed you in minuscule ways such as stealing bringing you your favorite snacks after a long day without you, doing things such as buying double of what he gets from store runs because you’re in his mind all day, and telling you he’ll be safe for you once he walks out the door. He never says I love you, but he doesn’t need to.

It’s hard to get someone like him to change the way they are, so when you’re sitting on your shared bed flipping through a magazine and see a couples quiz linger across the page, you can’t help but try to feed yourself crumbs of his affection you know you’ll spend a lifetime searching for.

“How long did it take for you to realize you like me?” You broke the silence, squinting at the duo-skin toned man slouched across the wooden headboard.

You heard him chuckle, blinking longly at you with amusement glimmering within his cerulean irises. It wasn’t rare for Dabi to mock you for asking such a thing, but it was a rare moment for you to glare at him deadpanned and genuinely waiting for an answer. It fucking confused him.

“As long as it took you to make me cum the first time.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment enough to make him furrow his eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to not retaliate back, you were always quick to snap back at him. Hearing nothing but his own breathing as you skipped through pages made him furrow his eyebrows. He wanted to ask if you were okay— he really did, but then you’d think he cared.

And Dabi would be a terrible person if he let you know he cared.

The silence was nearly overbearing, nearly deafening in his ears as he tried his hardest to focus on anything but your serious expression haunting him in the back of his mind. Things like this rarely bothered him. It goes to say that Dabi was rarely ever bothered.

Sure, you never asked for much reassurance and never even did as much as ask if he meant it when he asked you out mid-nap, but he really did. Sure, you lived off the whim of thinking it was, but at least the raven haired man knew it was. Right?

The sound of the magazine slamming shut and getting thrown somewhere onto the bed broke Dabi of his thoughts. “I’m gonna’ pee.” You announced, mostly to no one in particular because your soft eyes refused to meet his own. Another rare occurrence.

You lied to Dabi for the first time in your life. Did you really have to pee? Of course not. Did you have to cry in the bathroom for a quick 2 seconds to release the pent up frustration of utter confusion? Of course you did. It was annoying— living with someone and only getting treated as if you were anything in the slightest to him when his dick was inside of you. He only ever fucks you rough and never lets you see his face, and he expects you to believe he wants to be with you?

After cleaning your solemn face from dry tears, your body grudgingly made its way out the bathroom and to the bed. Your presence within the studio was clear, panties strewn across the open drawers mixed with Dabi’s briefs, shoes tucked neatly compared to Dabi’s boots tossed lazily near the door, and perfume bottles layering up against the old brown dresser. You took a quick glance at a picture of you hanging on the wall, a familiar raven-headed man’s arms wrapped around your head as he towered over your frame with his head resting across your head.

It was never worth the confusion.

“Why were you crying?” His dark voice rang out, making you slightly flinch as you dented the soft mattress with your frame.

A quick shake of the head will do, you thought to yourself as you followed your own orders. You knew Dabi wouldn’t push to find out what was wrong, he never does. And he doesn’t, lips shut as he takes a drag from some cigarette he’s smoking and giving you a longing look of aggravation. It’s even less of a surprise for him to do such a thing.

“If you have something to tell me, then I suggest you do it.” If you hadn’t known Dabi for as long as you do, you’d probably assume he was being condescending and outright rude. Because you do know him though, you know that’s exactly how he’s trying to come off to you.

You dreaded it. The eventual confrontation that was inevitable from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend— it all led to this moment in space and time. You felt exactly how you predicted you’d feel, sick and intimidated. Not necessarily by Dabi because you know he’d never hurt you, but intimidated by the fact that it’s as easy as 1-2-3 for him to up and leave depending on your answer.

“What are we, Dabi?” And there it goes, 1-2-3.

It was like hearing a pin drop. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody did anything for the first three seconds following the ultimatum. He knew he had two options: answer genuinely and reveal information he’d die before releasing, or leave you high and dry yet again for his own benefit when it comes to the mere idea of using words he doesn’t use in bed.

Staring into your eyes never scared him, he cremating people for a living, but knowing that lying behind them were tears falling for your reflection rather than on his shoulder caused a pang to hit his chest. It was unfamiliar and unusual, but looking at your body begin to leave its space in the bed in frustration with his quietness made him snap. You were serious for the first time.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Your words were harsh, harsher than usual and you yourself couldn’t even tell where this newfound energy came from.

You were okay. You were okay with whatever this complicated situationship was, and you probably would have still been okay with it if you hadn’t gotten too deep in over your head and let his words get to you. Him saying he realized he liked you coincidentally while you fucked should be above you, yet here you are.

“Jesus doll, relax.” He taunted, hands reaching out to grab your arm in a fit of confusion and annoyance, “just come back to bed Y/N.”

You felt it - the minute he touched your arm and released the tiniest bit of heat coming off his palm - just how tense he was becoming. He knew once you put your mind to something, it was difficult to get you to move away from it. He knew that there was no escaping this conversation.

It was inevitable really, the fact that one day (which was, unfortunately for him, today) you would question the legitimacy of his emotions for you. You were carefree just like him, that’s why he fell for you. But you were also blunt. If you felt a way, you were going to say it and that’s that.

Easily, the scarred hand gripping onto your arm slid over to your clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to give him a hard time for not looking his way—with the way his fingers squeezed deep into your skin and tilted your head towards him, you knew you did. It almost repulsed you with how obedient your body was to his touch, glancing at him with no shame other than the dried tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna tell you the one time and I’ll never repeat myself,” he threatened, voice treading amongst angry waters as his blue eyes bored into yours, “I’m serious.”

You stood your ground, eyes taking away from your scowling expression as they swirled in curiosity. It didn’t take much to make you lower your frame onto the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the t-shirt past your exposed panties.

“I don’t say much when it comes to you, or even to when it’s about you—but you’re all I am.” Your eyebrows furrowed, clear confusion written in your face.

“What does tha—” “I’m talking.” Dabi’s aggravated expression never left, not even with the joint hoisted between his lips in nothing but frustration.

“I got nothing to give you, nothing but collected calls from jail and maybe some jewelry I stole cause I got bored. I don’t have any money, anything to my name, and nothing but a spot on the police and hero department’s most wanted list.” His words made you frown, the clear self-depreciation outweighing the cocky and arrogant attitude you once knew to belong to the man infront of you.

“I can’t look you in the eye, show you my face when you milk my cock clean— can’t do shit like that,” Dabi’s smirk was quick to appear, your eyes rolling as you met his serious gaze yet again, “probably won’t be able to take you out the country either unless we run far, far away from here.”

“But nothing I say or do will ever express the way I feel about you.” And now it’s Dabi’s turn for the 1-2-3 process, because that statement in itself made your brain stop working.

Your brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that Dabi’s free hand was circling your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to where he most felt at home. His words never faltered though, only slightly pausing to smoothly slip his hands onto the soaked folds of pink lace.

His words were thrown against empty ears. You couldn’t focus on the words flowing within the room due to the ever-growing heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. Dabi’s hand sank into your leg, heat splitting between your skin enough to hiss and throw your head back.

“From this perfect pussy,” he applied pressure to the space between your legs, the wet patch inducing a smile from his once blank expesssion. The sudden contact caused a gasp to slip from your panting lips. Almost instinctively, Dabi pressed his thumb against your tongue, “to this smart ass mouth, it’s all I need to wake up in the morning.”

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi's heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he's ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who's life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen burn bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi's harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

"You're gonna get tired of me one day," he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, "you're gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own."

He wanted to think he wouldn't care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn't do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he's ever known in his life for as long as he'd live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

"Hey," you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

"You crash, I crash. Always."

Your words hit him, and boy did they hit Dabi hard. The time it took for the word always to softly slip off your tongue was just enough time for Dabi to realize the depth of your words.

They were the same ones that fell between your lips when he thought he was dying, when you thought you were dying, and now. Dabi was complex - that was evident - but he was also the simplest man you knew. All he ever really needed was some reassurance.

It was long before his fingers found their way into your scalp, slipping over the crevices of your neck and gripping onto the back of your head as if his life depended on it. All you could do was gasp.

"Can I touch you?" The words were like a record scratch, repeating through the scarred man's brain all too much to keep anyone sane.

He couldn't tell if it was the slur of your words, or if it was your soft hands running across his thick shoulders as the words whispered into his ears— whatever it was made him take up the obligation of doing anything and everything you said.

It wasn't soon before you found yourself slamming your lips against his, the sensation causing you both to moan. You couldn't tell the difference between his hands and yours, tangled limbs falling deep into the plush comforter covering your shared bed. His weight above you did nothing but encourage you to wrap your bare limbs against his now shirtless one on, hands running through the raven locks above your head.

The minute you felt the heated pads of his fingertips lower themselves down your abdomen, your head shook underneath his and caused him to part his lips from its home on yours.

"Hmph," you groaned, pouting as your hands traveled down to his jeans and began to fiddle with the zipper, "I want to feel you in me now."

Dabi was used to being in control. He was used to ordering your body around, telling you what to do and how to do it. In the bedroom, Dabi made the orders. So when he parted his lips from yours and stood over your body with his scarred hands shoving his pants down his thighs, you couldn't do anything less than moan. Knowing he was taking what you said into consideration brought chills to your skin.

"You sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" He smirked, legs coming out of the restricting jeans he wore and leaving his tall and lean frame in nothing but gray briefs.

Dabi had a lot to brag about, in the most respectful way possible.

Your hands clawed at his waistband, giggling as you pulled his body all the way back to its original position of resting above you and let the underwear go with a loud smack. Being eye to eye with someone like Dabi was scary, no point in denying that. Her there was something about it that just drove the two of you insane— and he couldn't tell if I was anything short of love.

He silenced himself, attaching his lips to yours and preoccupying a hand into pulling his briefs down just enough. And by just enough, it meant just enough to brush your clothed clit as his painfully hard cock stretched up to his stomach. You couldn’t do anything but flinch, hands reaching out to grip his thick girth and slap it across your clothed pussy.

“Let me do it.” You smiled, eyes boring into Dabi’s own blue ones. Your free hand slipped your panties to the side, his mushroom tip dancing against the rim of your wet hole and causing the two of you to release a soft groan into one another’s face.

If there was one thing Dabi would never get tired of, it would be the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his dick closer into you. Nothing short of sensation hit him the minute your hands shoved the head in, and his almost fell inlove with the view of you watching his large length disappear into your own heaven.

It was hard for you to not cum from his entrance. Even as he bottomed out, your teeth sealing a scream from leaving your throat by pressing into his shoulder, did you realize just how big Dabi was. No matter how skinny, lean, and weightless he seemed, the girth and length on Dabi’s third leg when he was stuffing himself into you never failed to surprise you. Even through the self-inflicted pain of going into this without foreplay, you knew there was nothing that would ever fill you up as amazing as Dabi does.

“Fuuuck,” you dragged out into his earlobe, tongue licking a strip of his patched skin from your bite-mark to the lobe of his pierced ears, “you’re so big.”

He couldn’t help but whimper (another thing on Dabi’s list or shit he doesn’t do but now does because of you), the feeling of your tongue circling his ear as your pussy gripped onto his fleeting cock nearly felt like too much. It didn’t help that you were moaning and whispering in his ear with nothing but pure sex laced in your words.

“You know,” he breathed out, beginning to create a routine with his hips bottoming harshly into your cervix and slowly dragging out in a timely fashion, “this is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

He thinks it’s a compliment, but really it stirs awake the competitive bone in your body. You ignore it though like you always do, choosing to appreciate the fact that he considers you the best at atleast something.

His hand gripped onto your neck, bringing neon stars and dots of blackness to conceal your view of cerulean eyes. Nothing but the lewd sounds of Dabi pushing his dick into your wet hole filled the room, sprinkles of your whimpers and his groans mixing amongst the darkness of the apartment.

Dabi was trouble. He never felt in control of his feelings, never knew what he would want in life, and never bothered to consider living for someone other than himself. It’s moments like these with you though, that makes him realize the God he wakes up thinking about rests between the gap in the middle of your heavenly thighs. He’d killed people before, but the power you held over him was enough to make him consider killing everyone on earth if you’d ask.

You felt him begin to grow impatient, hips pounding into your frame and causing your body to jolt up and down harshly. Words couldn’t describe how amazing Dabi felt inside of you right now. His tip crushed your cervix within every thrust, and it was Dabi’s fingers that lifted your gaping face from the trance of watching him fuck into you to his own face.

“I-I cant.” You began to slip out, tears growing against your eyes as Dabi’s hot fingers began to flick your swollen clit. You swear it’s only been like ten minutes, or maybe Dabi’s huge dick pushing against your cervix was beginning to fuck you stupid. “You’re gonna’ make me cum— make me cum too fast daddy.” You cried out, fingers dragging against the stapled back as you felt Dabi purposely drag one of the piercings located on his tip across your pulsating velvet walls. It was almost too good to be true, and you couldn’t help yourself from kicking his waist over you and forcing his body underneath you. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wipe the smirk off his sweating face.

“Get to work, doll.”

You knew why he spoke to you with such condensation. You also knew exactly why his hands pressed into your ass cheeks as you found your home on top of his bare lap. His scarred torso leaned against the black bed frame, and you decided right then and there that Dabi deserved to get his brains fucked out. So you did exactly what he told you to do— you got to work.

You were wet enough to take him some more, knees straining as you finally pushed his length deep into your stomach. The silent scream that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed though, your fingers that now gripped his cheeks pressing between his lips to keep his teasing menstruations to himself. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t come off your body, and honestly he wished they never had to.

Keeping a grip on your stomach and your ass cheek, an enflamed slap brought a powerful burn across your ass cheek and caused you to jolt against his penis.

“Jesus Dabi, a-are you trying to kill me?” You weakly pleaded, and it didn’t take long for your fucked our expression to start slurring your words.

The sound of you dropping your frame onto his body filled the room, your hips rolling against your clothed clit and bringing sensation you weren’t sure if you could handle. You were trying to focus, but the feeling of Dabi heating a hand up across your ass and slowly beginning to meet your thrusts caused your brain to jumble into a mess of nothing but him.

“Fuck, baby you look so good when you start to get stupid.” He smirked, lips running against the cleavage of your bouncing breasts and lazily sucking on the moving nipple in front of him.

You wanted to fight back, and you wanted to defend yourself against him thinking you we’re starting to get stupid. You really wanted to— the only issue being that you couldn’t. You couldn’t the minute Dabi found a way to meet your thrusts and roughly tilt your neck back up towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was all you could cry out as you began to grow impatient in your lower abdomen. It just felt too good. And as if to add injury to insult, your walls began to clamp up from the feeling you knew was coming soon. Dabi paid the price.

You’d never seen his eyes get this wide, eyebrows furrowed as his mouth gaped open in shock. His eyes found its way down, the sight of your pussy gripping and swallowing his dick back in and out being something he wishes he could see all day and that’s when Dabi realizes that he is inlove with everything about you.

“It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me, baby.” He whimpered out, smirking between hooded eyes as he struggled to regain some of his consciousness. You were way too good at bouncing on his dick, and he couldn’t help but begin to meet your thrusts with more precision as he felt himself near orgasm.

“A-all for you! Always all- always all for you daddy!” You cried out, voice struggling to come out as you threw your hands against Dabi’s chest and began to bounce as if your life depends on it.

You hate doing all the work, honestly you really do dislike it. But this has been the longest Dabi has allowed you to ride him and the feeling of you literally milking his cock at your own disposal was an offer too good to ruin.

“I know it’s all for me, princess.” He whimpered out, a hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling it low enough to slam your chapped lips against his own. “Wanna know something, baby?”

The words vibrating against your own moans got lost in the sound, your headboard forcibly slamming against the wall only louder as every other thrust from you gradually grew rougher with your urge to cum. Your brain couldn’t do anything less than feverishly nod, hands slipping back onto your body and allowing Dabi to drill into you from underneath. Gasps slipped out of your parted lips with a hand gripping his black hair and the other begging to rub your own clit.

“You crash, I crash forever, right baby?” He moaned out, the words entering your ears and making you cry out with tears finally spilling down your eyes from nothing but intense pleasure.

“Fuck yes daddy, forever!” You cried out, body beginning to hunch over as you felt the pressure in your stomach compared to the way Dabi slammed into you become too much.

“Good, doll,” he moaned, pushing you so far into him, the heartbeat in your pussy was sure to be vibrating onto the veins of his dick, “so do me a favor.”

Everything happened much too fast, your dizzy state only increasing as Dabi grabbed your body harshly and tossed you back underneath him. There you were again, tossed carelessly under him with your legs trembling and pussy stuffed with all of Dabi in his glory. His lips found our ear again, licking your lobe and sucking on it right after.

“Cream all over my cock so I can stuff you up with my kids, deal?” He smirked into you, jolting into you as soon as the last word resonated on all ears.

Soon enough, he found it in himself to thrust into you like never before. You could barely breath, gasping for air as you felt your vagina began to vibrate due to stage of pleasure you were in. And just like that, your body began to run from the overstimulation of Dabi’s hot finger rubbing roughly against your clit as he drills your frame into the crevices of your mattress.

“Da-daddy I’m gonna’....” The words just couldn’t come out— he was begging to fuck you dumb.

You couldn’t feel nothing but Dabi’s dick pound into you, and if this was all you felt before you fell into a sex-coma than fuck it. It will forever and always be worth it.

It was like you were starting to see white. The feeling of one of his hands now roughly gripping your drooling expression closer to his face made you scream in pleasure, Dabi’s smirk leaving only to release a trail of saliva from his throat into the back of yours. You swallowed it with no hesitation, some of the residue slipping through your lips in a mix with your own spit as you began to drool at the feeling of his tip hitting that one spot over and over again.

And that’s when you felt it. You felt the build up, the pressure of holding back becoming too much as you belted into a mess of tears and tried to push his body off your own.

“No baby,” he roughly said, milking his cock into you even harder and rubbing pressured circles into your clit until a strong snapped within you and you saw nothing but white.

You weren’t sure if it was a sub-space you had entered, or some fucked up version of heaven people who just for their brains fucked out go, but either option felt like fair-game the minute your pussy began to squirt a mess of cum and other liquids from the space Dabi still found himself intruding. If anything boosted his confidence, it was this right here.

“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy,” he smirked, rubbing you harder and harder as your felt your body stiffen at the overstimulation, “fuck, you’re so hot.”

As soon as you, Dabi found himself cumming harder than he ever had, lips only being able to cry out a mantra of your name. He knew sex with you was amazing— but this was a new high he doesn’t think he’d ever went to let go of. He didn’t even have the energy to lift himself out of you, small drips of cum able to slip out of your swollen pussy making you flinch in both overstimulation and pain. The cockwarming brought chills to your arm, body sprawled underneath Dabi’s panting frame in nothing but a fucked our expression.

You felt him lift his head up, eyes glancing over your puffy closed ones and being able to do nothing more than steal a kiss from your tongue-licked lips. He knows the difference between “fucked-out” you and “genuinely-knocked-out” you, and you knew he knew the difference too. But he acted as if he didn’t.

And before Dabi could pass out on top of your sweaty and sticky frame, words he mumbled into your shoulder nearly burned into your skin. At least, just enough to make your pussy and lips twitch in nothing but contentness.

I crash, you crash. Forever and always.

Sex with Dabi was always the same— sure. It was rough, messy, and painfully over-stimulating, but it was Dabi, and it was more than enough for you.

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi’s heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he’s ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who’s life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi’s harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

“You’re gonna get tired of me one day,” he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, “you’re gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own.”

He wanted to think he wouldn’t care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn’t do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he’s ever known in his life for as long as he’d live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

“Hey,” you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

“You crash, I crash. Always.”

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

Can I have a sub!kai fic where he annoyed the reader Thx

Uhmmmm yeth👹

Rules

pairing : vamp!reader x sub!kaiparker

Warning : language, smut, penetrative sex, oral (masc & fem), face riding, orgasm denial (m.), bondage, Kai stubble, dirty talk, 69ing,

Requested ;)

Word Count : a little over 3k

A/N :

I had wayyyy too much fun with this one. I’m not really used to writing sub!kai so I had this one was good enough for you<3 (also I’m sorry it literally took FOREVER) also, there’s is little to no plot, srry

He groaned as the ropes rubbed harshly against his skin. His wrist red and irritated as he pulled to feel the tiniest bit of relief that he wasn’t getting.

“It’s only going to hurt more with every pull, Malachi.” You hummed, a sadistic smirk finding its way to your lips as you watched him struggle.

That’s what you were.

A sadist.

You enjoyed watched him like this. Helpless, vulnerable, borderline pathetic. A shiny layer of sweat coating his forehead, and disgustingly dirty thoughts of you on top of him filling his mind. You were truly one evil bitch. How could you do this to him? Strip him of his dominance, just to prove a point. It was oh so fucking hot, but torture not being the one on the other side of these ropes.

“You do realize that once I’m out of these ropes the rest of the night is going to be absolute hell for you... right?” He cleared his throat. He was just itching to inflict some type of fear in you, but in his current state he was making much progress.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him. You’ve never done all this before, but you had a plan for exactly how you wanted it to go. Kai was a dick. He has been one all fucking week. Lately he’s been treating you like precious cargo. Not letting you do anything on your own, not even a shower without him sneaking in. At first it was somewhat sweet sentiments, like ordering your favorites at the grill, then driving you around town to handle errands. Slowly that sweetness faded into him making every decision for you. Not letting you speak for yourself, and finding ways to punish you for speaking out against him. Putting silencing spells on you if he didn’t feel like hearing you rebuttals, and just yesterday he put you into a deep sleep for a few hours so he could ‘have a few moments of peace’.

He was dictating your life.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of these ropes tonight?” You hum.

You watched as he swallowed down the air bubble caught in his throat.

You were set on proving a point. He wasn’t the boss of you in any way shape or form. Not in public, not in private, and he definitely did not have you wrapped around his finger like he was your pimp or some shit. In fact, the whole point of tonight was to make him see that it was quite the opposite.

“Because we both know I can satisfy you way more if I’m untied. Just untie me and I can make you feel good, y/n/n.” He smiled, thinking that you would give into his offer. Instead of actually untying him you just let out the most seductively cynical laugh ever, causing his body to tense under yours.

“We’ll see...” you smirked, lifting your hips from his crotch as you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his collar bone. “Now should we go over the rules or do you have more empty threats to make?”

"Rules?" He nearly laughed in your face.

“Tonight is all on my terms... you will do whatever I want you to do.” You relied, ignoring his failed attempts at taking you seriously. “First rule, not touching. But that shouldn’t be much of a problem, huh?” You smirked, watching his eyes roll. “Second rule, you will ask for everything...” suddenly his smile dropped, and he was so amused by the situation anymore. “You want me to touch you? You ask. You want a kiss? You ask. And if you want to cum... you better beg as if your life fucking depended on it.” You nearly giggled feeling the way he giggled under you.

“Y/n-”

“You will not cum unless I say that you can.” He took in a sharp breath. “Not too bad right? You can be a good boy for me, just for the night, right?” You pouted mockingly, looking deeply into his eyes dark with lust.

“Are the uhm... ropes necessary?” He asked, voice an octave higher than usual.

“No.” You sighed. “But you look so fucking hot all tied up like a doll.” You hummed, finger tracing the vein bulging from from his neck. “So pretty. So perfect.”

“T-that’s usually my line.”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Your hips grinding down into his, earning a low groan from his throat.

He remained silent, putting a soft smirk on your lips. Your hands traced down his chest, oh so lightly, scooting down his body until you’re hands ghosted lightly over the bulge in his boxers. He felt the heat of your fingers over him. He decided to take advantage of the fact that his legs weren’t bound by anything to push his hips up into the air for some relief. Unfortunately for him, you could read him like a book. Your hand moved away from him before he could even move, resulting in a disappointing action that caused a tiny whine to leave his lips.

“Y/N!” He groaned, head falling back as he tugged at the ropes keeping his bound. You smiled at his frustration, he was in for a long night.

“You didn’t ask.” You shrugged as if you did nothing wrong. Hand placed on his lower stomach, fingers tracing through the outline of his abs.

“Touch me. Please.” He grumbled, not too happy with his position. He was usually the one having you bed for any sort of touch from him. This was all different kinds of unnatural.

   "I am touching you, you're going to have to be more specific than that, Princess." You smiled, voice sweet, but the words coming from you mouth made him want to murder you.

“Aw, but I am touching you. You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Princess.” You teased, voice sweet and condescending. He lifted his head just to glare at you for the nickname. You lifted an eyebrow, challenging him to speak out of turn but he decided to play nicely.

  "I want you to-" he wanted a lot of things.

“I want... I want you to-” he wanted a lot of things right now actually. He didn’t want to give into you no matter how badly he wanted you. His mind fighting against your sudden rebellion while his body ached to be under your control. There was a way to get what he wanted. He just had to show you that he still had control over you, even in restraints. “I want to taste you.” He blurted, a sharp breathing entering your lungs for a moment. You automatically knew what he was doing, and how he must’ve thought that this was so smart of him. “I-I want you to sit on my face...” he spoke, ideas running through his mind at 100 miles per hours. “And I want you to suck my dick too.” Your whole body tingled with excitement at the request.

“What’s the magic word?” You asked, eyebrow raising at the devilish smile beneath you.

“Please, oh please.” He played along. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before you were untying him, and begging for him to fuck you until it was difficult to function properly. He stuck out his bottom lip to ass to the effect.

You scanned the mischief on his face before do anything. Slowly you moved off of him until you were standing on your bedroom floor, his eyes following you closely. In the position he was now he just seemed so vulnerable, and perfect. Just like you had mentioned before. You could see how rock hard he was through his boxers, and how his abs tightened even when you weren’t on him just proved how badly he wanted to be touched by you. You didn’t think he realized but his hips were slightly bucking into the air, trying to find something, anything, but it wasn’t working out too well for him.

You slid your panties down your legs, letting them rest on the bedroom floor. You stepped out of the fabric, walked back over to the bed. Kai watching intently as your fingers traced down his chest, your beautiful being so close yet far at the same time.

“Can you kiss me? Please?” He spoke, a genuine request. Your eyes slowly trailed up to his, not detecting any hidden intentions besides just wanting you lips on his. You were fine giving him what he wanted, but that wouldn’t be fun if you gave into ever request. He’s be a total dick to you all week, so you denying him just one simple pleasure was totally fine with you.

You brought you’re face to hover over his, hand moving up to the soft skin of his cheek. The soft yet prickly hairs of the beard he was growing out tickling your aura. You’re lips barely grazing against his, allowing him to relish in the closeness for a moment before pulling away.

“There are much more productive things you could be doing with that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” You grinned, watching his jaw fall in amazement as you climb back onto the bed. You maneuvered yourself carefully, making sure both of your legs were positioned on either side of his head.

His view of your face was gone, nothing but you glistening pussy waiting for him to give into you. You could feel the warmth of his breath hitting on your already heated core. You lowered you’re body down slowly, just until you felt his warmth barely touching you. You leaned over, hands tracing slowly down his abdomen, slowly reaching under his boxer band, listening to his breathing change as your fingers wrapped around him.

He pulled against the ropes, hoping to gain even just a little bit of leeway. His eyes rolled at the light laugh you gave under your breath, realizing you really weren’t going to let him free. He just had his plan to hope will work. He didn’t have to move too much before his tongue was flattening against your folds, licking a single bold stripe against you. A soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth began to move against you, you’re hand slowly pumping him as he took over you mind for a brief moment in time. For some reason, though he hadn’t to admit it, being bound right now felt surprisingly good. The idea of being at your mercy as his tongue worked against you... just did something to him that he couldn’t explain. His eyes closed as he focused on solely pleasuring you before he became a bit distracted. You soft lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, collecting his precum on your tongue. His jaw fell open at the relief, letting out a soft moan.

His tongue worked into you, lapping up and sucking down all of your sweet juices. His facial hairs tickling the insides of your thighs as he ate you out. You made sure to make the most of this moment. You wanted to drive him crazy, by giving him everything and nothing at the same time. Your tongue flattening against his shaft as you took him in your mouth. In his mind he was debating on just siphoning some of your magic to get out of the ropes so he could handle you... properly. Though he quite enjoyed the way your hips were rocking against his mouth as you tried your best to contain yourself.

“Faster,” he groaned, tearing his mouth away from you. “Please- god, I need faster.” He begged, in a voice that sounded way too needy for his own liking. Which basically meant he sounded perfect for you. You hummed, sending vibrations through him before taking your mouth from around him with a pop. You pumped him in your hand a few times before sitting up above him. His lips connecting to you once again earning a gasp and moan that you weren’t prepared to release. Kai always knew how to work wonders one you. He was most proud of how submissive you would be for him in the late hours of the night. He knew how to work you up, and push all the right buttons and he always made sure that no matter what happens he made you cum.

Just another joy you got to swipe away.

You lifted you hips too far for him to reach, listening to him whine form the loss of your taste. You maneuvered yourself around his body again until you were straddling his lap. His stubble covered chin glistening with you juices, watching his chest rise and fall with heavy breathing. You bent down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, being sure to make sure he knew you just were getting a taste of yourself.

“You should grow out the beard, it would be so fucking hot.” You smiled, his throat let out a needy whimper as he tugged again at the ropes keeping him bound.

“y/n- please, m’gonna explode.” He groaned, causing your wicked smile to widen.

“sorry, what? I didn’t hear that.” You hummed, turning your head so he would speak right into your ear.

“y/n.” He whined loudly, hips bucking into yours harshly. You hands moved down to his hips, holding them down before he could try again. He was right where you wanted him. Needy, pathetic, and easy to break. “I need you, so so bad, please.” He groaned, tugging at the ropes again, pure frustration and sexual tension taking over him.

“You need me?” You asked, trying to sound confused, hands moving further down his body until your fingers were tracing the base of his cock. “Like... right here?” You cocked your head to the side, watching as his jaw clenched. His eyes locked on your face, watching you find him amusing enough to smile. He would never in his life admit this out loud, but he definitely enjoyed this. He was aching right your your hand, just like how you wanted him.

“I w-wanna feel you.” He breathed.

“You want me to fuck myself on your dick?” You dipped your head down, placing you lips right below his jawline, pressing a series of light pecks along his neck.

“Please- fuck, please baby.” He whined again.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft once again, pumping him slowly in your hand. His mouth fell open at the friction again. Your hand sped up in its action as you watched his eyes close for a brief moment in pleasure. If this is what having total control felt like... being able to see the person you love most revel in the feeling of just you and only you... you could understand why it was so addicting to him.

Doesn’t mean you weren’t still annoyed with him.

In his mind flashed pornographic pictures of you echoes of your moans on repeat in his mind, along with the sensations of your fingers coursing along his skin. You always held the power to make him fall apart at your finger tips, he just never let you see that.

“Aw, you like this don’t you?” You hummed, poking out lips at the soft moans you were earning as you jerked him off.

“Please let me feel you.” He asked again, aching to feel your heated walls wrapped around him.

“You think you deserve to feel me?” You sigh, handing tightening around him as your pace quickened earning an audible reaction. “You make such pretty noises, you know.” You hummed, leaning over him a bit. His tip barely brushing against you stomach as you watching him glide closely to the edge. “Are you close baby?”

“Y-yes, god, I’m so close.” He groaned out, hands turning to grip the comforter to relieve some pressure.

You watched his eyes squeeze tighter together, and his muscles everywhere tense. A light layer of sweat forming over his chest as he body produce a heat that was lethal. Throaty moans escaped him, and your body heat so close to him was only bringing him closer to his euphoric release.

Or what would’ve been if you hadn’t stopped.

“Y/N-” he whined, tugging at the ropes a little extra hard with frustration.

“I didn’t say you could cum, did I?” You responded to his childish whine.

Your lips curved up into a devilish smile that has him weak in the knees. You hand squeezing the base of his cock once again before you lifted yourself on your knees above him. His tip gliding along your folds slick with his saliva and your own arousal. His mouth feel open, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your dragging him along your heat.

“Wanna be in you, babe.” He groaned, “please, lemme feel you.”

You hum, moving you hand away from him breaking the intimate contact between the two of you. Both of your hands reached the his, grabbing the ropes keeping him bound before breaking each one. His hands immediately try to go to you, but you catch them before they can manage to.

“No touching rule is still in effect, Malachi.” You grin.

“Then why untie me?” He pouted.

“I love to see you squirm.” You commented with a light shrugged, leaning over as you placed his hands over his head. Your nose barely brushing past each other. “If you touch me and without permission we’ll stop, got it?”

“You’re so evil.” He whined, head lifting up to bring your lips closer together.

“Wonder who I get it from.” You smiled, finally pressing your lips together bringing sinking down on his cock that’s been waiting for you all night. He let out a breathy moan into the kiss, your hips lifting back up before falling again. Air slowly leaving your lungs as you let out a breathy moan into his lips. Kai’s hands gripping onto the comforter once again for dear life.

You kept up a steady place, bouncing on top of him, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your lips tore away from each other’s as you tried picking up pace, watching Kai’s face twist as he watched you use him for you’re own satisfaction. You noticed the tired euphoric look on his face on how he was already beginning to twitch inside of you. Your walls clenching around him, making him go ballistic as you fuck your self on him.

“I-I’m go-nna-” he moaned, trying to make coherent sentences through the ecstasy. “Can I please-”

“No, not yet.” You spoke clearly, pace not altering. “Look at me.” You demanded notices how his eyes fluttered shut every few seconds. He tried to keep his eyes open for you, staring you dead in your pretty face wondering how in love he had to be to end up in this position. “So good for me.” You smiled, nearly making him break one of your rules... possibly all of them.

“P-please let me t-touch you” he pouted.

“So needy.”

“Please.”

You nodded allowing him to move his hands. They went straight towards your hips, gripping your skin tightly, causing you to realize how close you were to the edge. Your walls clenching around him with every move, making it harder to keep himself contained. You’re eyes locked on each other, watching each other as you both fell completely apart. You noticed how heavy his breathing was and how he was trying his best not lose his shit. It was mesmerizing, noises flowing from the both of you so disgusting erotic that you wished everyone in this house was listening to the best sex they were never going to get to have. That’s when you realized you were beginning you’re ethereal trip on ecstasy.

“Y/N-”

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned as your legs began to shake around him, body jolting with pleasure as you tried milking out your orgasms by slowly rocking you hips on his but the sensations became too much.

You leaned over placing your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt his hot seed spilt into you coating your walls, as you listened to the rapid pace of his heart beating.

“Can we uhm... can we do that again?” He breathed, voice vibrated through your sensitive body.

“Fuck yea.”

[hockeywhy]

caught in the middle (1); m. barzal

SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks. 

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“We’re getting married!” 

You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like. 

“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?” 

“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.

“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds. 

Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine. 

“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.

“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own. 

“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you. 

Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes. 

As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.

*

This was anything but the right time. 

You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you. 

“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”

“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.” 

Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile. 

Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message. 

I’m waiting for you in the lobby.

Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”

“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit. 

Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you. 

“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.

“Thanks, Rach.”

“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos. 

“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment. 

Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.” 

You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.” 

“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”

You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head. 

Except—

Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap. 

Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days. 

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.

“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.

Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.” 

Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.

“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that. 

You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not. 

“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied. 

“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.” 

“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.” 

“There’s no need—”

“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has  never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.” 

Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.  

The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to. 

Lying for, you prefer. 

Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?” 

Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?” 

“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”

A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude. 

“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.

Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once. 

It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.

You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.

Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.

“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.

As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile. 

“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat. 

It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage. 

Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can. 

*

As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.

“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?” 

“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.

“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.

Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment? 

“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”

“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.” 

You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple. 

Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.

“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?” 

It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours. 

“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.” 

“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart. 

Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?” 

You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug. 

“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“

You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest. 

It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.

“We’re not together anymore.”

The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.

“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.” 

You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.” 

“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.

What happened?

You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.

“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”

“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.” 

“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”

“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?” 

“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?” 

She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”

You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”

“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”

“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel. 

“What song’s that?” 

Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”

*

A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table. 

“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?” 

Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.” 

He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first  I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that. 

“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.

You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night. 

You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different. 

“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused. 

He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title. 

Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s. 

The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would. 

“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.

You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.” 

Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”

“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”

“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”

“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?” 

“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.” 

“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.” 

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.

Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.

*

Your phone buzzes once. 

I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?

You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed. 

I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was. 

You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.

He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa. 

Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently. 

Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels. 

True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk. 

“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags. 

“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little. 

“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.” 

He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant. 

Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?” 

“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can. 

After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too. 

Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile. 

“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot. 

You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence. 

Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?” 

You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.

“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat. 

“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”

“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.

“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.” 

Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”

“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.” 

“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.” 

“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?” 

The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to. 

“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.” 

It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip. 

“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”

“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought. 

You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both. 

You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.

You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.

“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag. 

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination. 

“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours. 

“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one. 

“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy. 

“You just like obliterating your taste buds.” 

He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite. 

“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue. 

“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly. 

“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer. 

“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.” 

“You survived though, didn’t you?”

“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done. 

You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.” 

“Y/N—“ 

But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined. 

It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible. 

You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders. 

He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey. 

But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”

“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally. 

There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.

-

The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.

“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?” 

“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?” 

“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk. 

You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”

Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”

You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception. 

“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity. 

You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes. 

When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back. 

You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable. 

“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”

“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?” 

“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”

“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”

“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.” 

“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.

Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by. 

It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today. 

You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph. 

“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.

“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice. 

You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway. 

Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you. 

You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.

“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally. 

Ahead of you lay only one bed. 

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Benny Rodriguez

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Benny met when you were younger. You’d lived in the neighborhood your entire life and with Benny and the boys being the only kids around your house; and the fact that you were a bit of a tomboy in general, they were who you made friends with.

- Like most young boys, they weren’t too keen on some little girl butting into their games, but you were persistent! It took you a couple weeks and a whole lot of effort but soon enough they let you stay and play without any complaints. After that, the rest was history.

- You’d sort of always just been one of the guys. The main reason you were allowed to stick around was because they nearly forgot you weren’t one. You played baseball, weren’t afraid to get dirty, and never acted all “prissy”; you were the only type of girl they’d ever be caught dead letting into their crew.

- And; without any opposition from you, that’s how things went on for a few years. It wasnt until you got a little older that you realized that being “one of the boys” maybe wasn’t the ...greatest thing in the world.

- You sort of always had a thing for Benny. It was easier to brush off and not realize when you were younger but as you got into your teenage years, it became more difficult to ignore.

- And thus, your dilemma finally became obvious. You’d spent so long being one of the guys that you were completely sure Benny only saw you as that; he sure acted like he did.

- So a million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered if you could change how he saw you, if you wanted to, how you’d do it, should you do it, when you’d do it, etc. Maybe you should try some makeup, change your clothes, your personality; should you stop hanging around him so much?

- You had no idea what to do ...so you tried a few things. You dressed a tad bit girlier; not enough to have the gang on you or ruin your ability to play, and wore your hair down, and ...nothing happened.

- All you got was a few comments from the guys asking “what’s up with the hair?”. Soon enough, you were grumpily pulling your hair up into a ponytail after getting not even the slightest reaction from Benny.

- After several attempts, you’re at a loss and somewhat frustrated. You debate just telling him but the day you decide to, you chicken out and stay home.

- Your mother tells Benny you aren’t feeling well when he asks if you can come out and play and you watch from behind the curtain guiltily as he leaves your front steps, casting one last look from behind his shoulder at your window.

- You don’t show up to the field for another day or two before deciding that you need to go back, missing your friends and fresh air. You figure you can play it cool like always, and you do, getting welcome back slaps on the back and shakes.

- You play for a few hours before the boys have to go home and you’re left on the field alone with Benny. You’re just about to walk out as well ...up until Benny calls after you. With a deep breath, you jog back over and stand in front of him.

“You feeling better?” he asks and you both nod, one after the other.

“That’s good. I missed you out here,” he says before seeming to realize what he said. He laughs slightly before following up with a “Yeah-Yeah sucks at playing your position.”.

- You both laugh before he asks “why don’t we play, just you and me. You throw and I’ll hit”. And you try to turn him down, telling him that you should be getting home, but then he gives you that smile of his and a “come on” and you just can’t refuse.

- So you get in position and the two of you play, swapping turns back and forth when you have to run and catch the ball.

- On one of your last few throws, he runs over to hand you the ball but doesn’t immediately let go. Instead, he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before running back to his spot on the field, casting a look back at you and subsequently a smile as he does.

- The two of you kiss for real when you’re at the edge of the field, getting ready to walk home. He calls your name and you pause, standing still as he grips your shoulder and leans in, planting a peck on your lips.

“Why’d you do that?” you ask, though it’s obvious that you don’t mind.

He merely shrugs and grins at you. “I wanted to.”

- You can’t help but smile back, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders and walk you off the field.

- There isn’t a ton of pda in your relationship but there’s a bunch of contact: high fives, his arm around your shoulders, his leg touching yours when you sit next to each other. He just doesn’t want the guys on your case for the rest of the week for a measly kiss in front of them. 

- Affectionate hair ruffling. 

- Hand holding, usually when the gang isn't around; unless it’s Smalls. 

- Forehead and cheek kisses.

- Soft kisses.

- He has your picture on his dresser and you cant help but smile every time you see it. 

- When it really comes down to it, he’s got a huge soft spot for you. He may treat you like one of the boys most of the time but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you you’re definitely different from them to him. 

- Excited hugs, usually after he accomplishes something big or you get good news. 

- Sitting in between his legs, usually with his chest pressed against your back.

- He doesn’t mind cuddling, even if it’s sort of in front of the gang, mainly because his style of cuddling is his arm draped over your shoulder and you resting against his side.

- As though he’d allow you to not have a nickname! He doesn’t really use petnames except; maybe, when he’s using them as jokes or sarcastically, but you’ve probably had a nickname since you were little that he still uses.

- Although, he does say “that’s my girl” to himself or just outloud whenever he gets all proud of you; like when you score a homerun.

- The boys definitely tease him about you. Its the one thing they have on him.

- He lets you win when you guys race. You’re absolutely aware of it but you think it’s cute so you both jokingly pretend he didnt.

- He’s always there to help get you out of a pickle. If you have a problem it is both your problems the minute you tell him.

- He always brushes off your praise with a halfhearted and playful scoff but in actuality, he loves it whenever he gets a compliment from you.

- There’s definitely been moments where you’ve been in his room with him and asked about some sort of clothing item and he just casually asks if you want it. And ...You’re damn right you do.

- Randomly being carried away from things isn’t all too uncommon for you. He likes to pick you up, whether it’s just by your armpits or in a piggyback ride.

- Walking home from school together. 

- Spending your summers together. 

- Expect a lot of random visits and him calling you to come hang out. If he wants to see you, he’ll just come knocking on your door. 

- Smalls is sort of like your adoptive child, even though you're only like two years older than him. You’re just always looking out for the younger boy and making sure he feels welcome and all that. 

- Getting introduced to Beast and Mr. Mertle. 

- Knowing tons of baseball facts because of him.

- Playing catch in the lot. He goes easy on you but to be fair; he goes easy on most people.

- Looking after him and making sure he doesn’t over exert himself.

- I’m sorry but you’ll have to just accept that baseball is his priority a lot of the time. It’s his “life” and you’ll just have to accept that if you want to be with him. 

- He would genuinely ask you to marry him in complete awe if you were to ever get him baseball game tickets. 

- He makes a big deal over your birthday, well, him and the rest of the boys. They all cheer when you arrive at the field, giving all their “look who it is’s”and slapping you on the back.

- Going to the movies ...after they put up another screen.... He’ll usually grab your hand and keep glancing over at you whenever you go, he just thinks you’re really pretty.

- Hanging out in the treehouse together. 

- Going to the fair with him. 

- Pool dates.

-  A lot of your dates get invaded by the gang, especially if they involve pizza …or food of any kind really. 

- His mother probably insists on giving him some money every time she hears he’s going to hang out with you because she wants him to be a little gentleman and pay for your “date”.

- Even though you’ve always sort of been seen as just one of the guys, you’re serious bragging rights for Benny; both to the other boys and to Phillips. All it takes is one visit to the pool with them and suddenly they’re all a little envious of their leader.

- Though, to be honest, all the boys in the group have probably; at some point, had a crush on you or thought that you’d end up together because it just makes sense, you know? They weren’t in love but they had those little “why am is my heart racing” type of moments with you.

- Even though he brags about you, he’s still a jealous boy. He pretty much glares at any other guy; besides the guys in the gang, you’re with. Even if he’s doing something else, he finds it difficult to concentrate. The minute you arrive back at his side, he’ll ask why you’re hanging out with them, usually with a subtle; or not so subtle, insult directed towards them.

- Even though he knows you’re capable of holding your own, he’ll still always jump to stick up for you because it’s just a habit of his.

- He’s protective of everybody in his gang so that obviously includes you. He isn’t above fighting; or at least embarrassing, someone who’s giving you a hard time or literally carrying you to a safe distance when you’re near something he deems dangerous. Plus, he’s always the first one at your side no matter what’s going on.

- The two of you don’t fight a ton. You’ve been friends for a while so you sort of already know what rubs each other the wrong way and can avoid them because of that. If you are fighting, it’s probably about something stupid and you wind up just leaving; for one reason or another, as he calls after you.

- That being said, you usually just resolve things after a bit of arguing; without you having to walk off. As an apology, he’ll give you a sincere “hey, I’m sorry, alright?” before making some joke along the lines of asking if you want to hit him. You’ll hug and he’ll kiss your head and everything will be settled.

- You don’t tell each other that you love each other a whole lot; it sort of just isn’t Bennys thing, but you show each other you do with your actions.

- In the future, you’re there at every single one of his games, cheering him on.

- He probably asks you to marry him right after highschool. He just can’t wait to make you Mrs. Rodriguez.

[vannybarber]

The Prenup: Part Four

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One Part Two Part Three

As soon as you heard that, you slam the door in his face.

"Y/N, what the hell? Open the door. What are you doin'?"

"No, I'm not opening the door. How are you gonna finally see me and knowing I'm upset with you, greet me with "hi baby"? You fuss at him through the door.

"I'm sorry okay! Can you please open the door? We need to talk."

"Don't raise your voice at me. You're only making it worse for yourself." You shift your weight on the other foot folding your arms. "I can do this all day."

"Come on babe, I'm serious." So were you.

"If I open this door, you better act like you have some sense."

"Alright, alright. Just open the door please."

You hesitantly walk over and open the door seeing him stand in the same position. Your face is torn up and you wrinkle it more when your eyes land on him. Although you won't admit it, a tiny part of you are glad to see him. Just a tiny part.

"Can I come in?" He looks at you and tilts his head sassily.

"Cut the attitude Christopher." You walk away towards the bed signaling he could enter.

"We're not gonna get anything solved with you acting like this" he huffs, slamming the door.

"How do you expect me to act? We wouldn't have anything to solve if you hadn't done all this. All this time you had to think and you still can't get that through your mind."

"I still don't see why you're making such a big deal. This is protecting us both. I don't touch your money, mine doesn't get touched either."

You almost slap him.

"Chris, that's if we were to divorce. We haven't even gotten married and you're already thinking about divorce?" What the fuck is wrong with him?

"You always say to be extra cautious and careful. That's what I'm doing. Megan thinks it's a good idea and when is she ever wrong?"

"You know what's sad Chris? Megan is such a bitch and you can't see it. She literally tries to dictate every little thing you do. She's your publicist, not your wife. You talk about how you love your freedom and independence, which I give to you, but when it comes to her, whatever she says goes."

His hands are rubbing his face, like usual, when he's in a predicament. He's not saying anything, which makes you even more upset, but you continue anyway.

"I truly don't think you understand how you're being right now. You're letting someone else dictate our relationship. You don't even talk to me about it, so I'm sitting on the sidelines watching you play the game. It's clear in itself that you are still not ready to be in a relationship. How? I don't know. You had fucking 4 years."

"Its not that easy, okay? You know how all my past relationships have gone. Somehow I was still being used for everything. Whether it was money, publicity or whatever. You don't get it."

You sigh and run a hand over your forehead. It's obvious you aren't going to get anywhere with this, so what was the point of him even coming here? Hold on.

"How the hell did you even find me? I haven't talked to you all day." He looks up and at the wall, bouncing his leg nervously in the chair he was seated in.

"You had your location on and I drove over here." You roll your eyes and this upsets him. "You freaking left without telling anyone where you were! You could've been hurt. Or even worse."

"I told your momma I was fine." He scoffs.

"You've got to be kidding. You just have to be."

You've had it up to here with this man. Clearly nothing was going to get resolved and both of you are stubborn about it, so you want him gone right away.

"Chris just go. You're wasting time. I told you to come in here with some sense, but you must've left the little that you had at the door."

"You're my future wife. I'm not leaving you. We need to work this out." Haha. That's funny.

"Well according to you, I'm most likely going to be your future ex wife." Okay you were being dramatic but whatever. "Let me help you understand. After 4 years of a relationship, you propose to me. Then you get a prenup behind my back by the advisory of your hating ass publicist. You signed it without even letting me know you had one. Do you not see the issue at hand here?"

You deadpan him for his reaction. You needed some form of indication that he gets what you're saying. That he realizes he's being a dick.

"I mean...I guess? I just didn't think you'd be so bothered. If we never get a divorce then it's fine. The prenup won't matter." He sits up in his chair and looks at you what looks like to be genuine confusion on his face.

Why do you even bother?

"Yes it would matter. Because it will forever be there. And in the back of my mind, I will always feel you picked your money over me." All his confusion washes away at this and is replaced with realization and guilt. "You know me better than most of my own family does. And you know what my intentions are with you. None of them require money. If you didn't have money like you did, I still would be with you Chris. Why? Because I love you."

There's a silence.

"I honestly don't know what to say." And you could tell. Any words he wanted to speak barely got through transformation because he would just clamp his mouth shut.

"Chris I just want to be alone right now, okay? I really don't need this at the moment." Yeah, the fact that you're pregnant. And he still doesn't know. You thought about telling him, but now you want to hold it off being that this didn't go as planned.

"Babe-"

"Chris please. Just do this for me. It's the least you can do." You sit on the bed and cross your legs. You were in a bind that didn't seem to be letting up any time soon.

"Well it was a long drive and I have to use the bathroom." You swat your hand to the restroom for him to go. Anything to get him moving faster. He walks in and shuts the door behind him. Meanwhile, you grab your phone and contemplate whether you should turn your location off. If you kept it on, at least they would know where you were and that you were safe. But you don't want him back here.

After 4-5 minutes or so, you didn't hear the toilet flush and you wonder what he's doing in there.

"Chris what the hell is taking you so long?" The door clicks open and you look, only to see Chris standing in the frame with a pregnancy test in hand.

He has your positive pregnancy test.

You forgot you left them on the sink counter. Fucking idiot. You internally start freaking out and you jump out the bed. He spots you and stares at you. Knowing him for so long, you had never seen this look o his face before. Turns out, it was a look of betrayal. Why would he feel betrayed?

"You're pregnant." His voice is monotonous and his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

You on the other hand, are darting your attention around the room, looking anywhere but at him. You feel a sense of guilt. Probably because you weren't telling him and he had to find out like this.

"Yes- yes I am pregnant" you speak lowly, fiddling with the end of your shirt.

"And its mine right?" That made you mad.

"Of course it is! How the hell could you ask me that?"

"Well I don't know how to fucking feel! You were just gonna let me walk out of here without telling me you're pregnant with my baby!?" Now he's out the bathroom and a few feet away from you.

"I don't owe anything to you right now. I would've told you eventually. When I was ready." He goes silent.

"Are you going to keep it?" This time his voice is meek and lower than his normal tone. You look up and his face is pained. He is all for 'my body my choice' and completely supports that, but he'd be lying if he said that the thought of you, ya know, wouldn't hurt him.

"Yes I am keeping the baby." He let's out a huge breath.

Even though you couldn't have been more than 5 weeks, you had already felt like a bond was formed with your baby. And knowing Chris has wanted kids since forever, you couldn't take that away.

"Well I'm happy." But you still weren't all the way there yet. You didn't forget what had just happen.

"You still need to leave." The little smile on his face had vanished and he looked down.

"Are you gonna come back?" He was making it slightly difficult to keep the same hardness with him. You still loved that man, even through all your anger you have with him.

"I will, just not right now. Or not today at least. I still need to think. I'll be back home eventually." As you're speaking he sets the test back in the bathroom and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Well I guess that's better than nothing", he replies still visibly upset. "I guess I'll just head out now." He walks towards the door and hooks his hand on the knob. You quick get up and to your own surprise, you wrap your arms around him.

He's stiff for a few moments, which makes complete sense, but hugs back. You take in his scent and you almost give in. You hadn't smelt him in a while and it drove you crazy. You pull away and adjust your shirt. He looks at you one more time.

"I love you Y/N." You nod your head and he leaves the room.

"I love you too Christopher."

But he couldn't hear you because he was already half way down the hall, thinking about how he was going to make this right.

heehee😏i think this is a little more than what i gave in the last chapter. we're not through yet you guys ❤

@mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessycatth @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @dauntless2022 @allboutdatmarvel @ineedpineapple @illyrianprincess @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @marianas-studyblr @obliviatevamps @thevelvetseries @coffeebooksandfandom @shamelessfangirl-3 @quietmyfearswith @kissme-hs @lvgllre @arabescapr @careless-intuition @lady-x-red

[itsallyscorner]

Hey Ally idk if you are taking requests at the moment but if you are could you write something really fluffy with either Sebastian or Bucky! I am just not having a good time right now and would really appreciate anything you got! If you need a more specific idea i can come up with one just let me know and obviously no rush ♥️

Hiya hun! I hope this brightens your day/night and gets your spirits up💛 Sending all my love and good energy to you, happy reading!

💌.

Flowers and Nutella

Your body felt as if it were glued to the bed. The warm covers you’ve been wrapped in all night brought you comfort and served as a protection from the cold of the harsh world. Today had been one of those days. You know those days, the ones where you wake up and it seems like the world is out to ruin you. You didn’t want to get out of bed because it was like you were dreading of going through with the day.

The past week had been difficult. A failed mission; false leads that ended up being a mouse trap. You were put in charge of Peter, it had been one of the few Avengers mission he was allowed to come along on. You lot were supposed to collect data about an ex SHIELD agent selling alien weapons to different buyers, including Hydra members. The whole thing turned out to be a trapped, long story short, it ended up with Peter getting shot in the shoulder by one of the weapons. Thankfully, Banner and Dr.Cho knew how to patch it up so he was safe, back to the energetic bright eyed puppy he was.

The week had just been hard to get through completely. The affects of those events had finally taken its toll on you and decided to pile up on you during this gloomy morning. You didn’t plan on leaving your room. All you wanted was to watch things on Netflix, eat, and just stay in your safe haven. Your room.

You had been watching Gossip Girl once again when a knock was heard from your door. You didn’t feel like interacting with anyone so you didn’t answer it. A few minutes pass and the door slowly creeks.

Outside Bucky was dressed in gym shorts and a loose gray shirt. His hair was twisted up in a bun, something he had learned from you and grown to love. It was Saturday and the two of you usually had training sessions together in the morning. When you didn’t respond to your door he grew concerned. Usually you were up and going, bouncing on the balls of your feet as your pony tail swayed side to side.

His head peeks behind your door and the sight in front of him makes him furrow his brows. You were far from ready, barely even close. You were in bed, wrapped in your blankets, eyes heavy as you watched some show on your tv.

“(Y/n)? Doll?” He calls out to you, slowly entering your room. The atmosphere was heavy as he took in the darkness and chilling temperature in your room.

Your hair rustled against your pillow as you move your head to look at him. You squint at him as the light from the window poured into your room. Bucky had pulled open the curtains and turned up the thermostat in your room.

“Buck? Hey, what are you doing here?” You eye his attire and groan.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot we had training today.” You apologized squeezing your eyes shut. It was as if you couldn’t do anything right lately.

Bucky waved you off settling himself beside your legs on your bed. He nudges your thigh with his elbow, “No worries. But are you okay? You never forget our training days and you’re usually bouncing from wall to wall by now.” His soft voice fills your room flowing like honey. You feel a swell in your chest at how comforting his voice was.

“What’s going on, darling?” He looks at you, eyes full of concern as they plead you to tell him what’s wrong. You sigh and push your cheek against your pillow. One of your arms curling underneath the cushion while the other gripped to your blanket.

You shrug the shadow of a smile on your chapped lips, “I don’t know. Just don’t feel up for anything today. I just want to lay here and rest.”

Bucky sends you a comforting smile as his large hand comes to rub the small of your back, “It’s alright, sometimes we need breaks from the outside world.”

A small smile forms on your lips, though it didn’t bring that crinkle by your eyes, a sign that you were genuinely happy.

He looks around before his sparkling blue eyes come to land on you again. “D’ya need anything before I head to the gym?”

You hum shaking your head, “Nope, thank you though.”

Bucky nods and claps his hands against his thigh. Getting up and leans forwards to poke your nose, “Alright. Give me a call if you need anything, I’ll be here.” You let out a simple, “mmk” as he turns to leave your room.

The door shuts behind him as he presses his back onto it. Screw the gym, he thought to himself. You were clearly upset and there was a voice in his head telling him to go fix it. You probably didn’t want him prodding in on your rest day but he just wanted to see a smile on your face.

His long legs take him to the kitchen where Wanda, Nat, and Sam were. “Ladies.” He greets them, nodding his head. A silent look was sent to him by Nat, probably because she hadn’t had her coffee yet. Wanda sends him a smile as she uses her powers to cook multiple dishes for breakfast.

“Sam.” He greets his friend who responds to him with a grunt. Bucky shoves himself to a stool at the counter as he tries to come up of ways to cheer you up.

Wanda glances at him, “I don’t think she would enjoy a picnic outside, she likes to stay in her room when she wants a break.”

Bucky’s eyes move from the marbled counters to the back of Wanda’s auburn hair. “Well what do you think she would like right now? I walked in and and she just looked so out of it.”

Natasha sighed as he inhaled the rich smell of coffee, “Barnes just leave her alone, she’s had a rough week, let her get some rest.”

Bucky grumbled a frown on his face, “But she looked so sad, I can’t just leave her like that.”

The elevator dings as the doors slide open. All heads turn towards the hall as they see Peter come out from the elevator. His backpack was slung over his shoulder as greeted all of them with a boyish grin.

“Hey guys!” A round of “mornings” is heard amongst the group as Peter enters the kitchen. He looks over Wanda’s shoulder as his hand reaches under her arm to grab a piece of bacon.

The witch rolls her eyes as she swats his back, “You could’ve burned your fingers, Pete.” She scolded him motherly.

“I’m fine, what’s up guys?” Peter answers with the strip of bacon hanging from his mouth. He places his backpack on the floor and joins the others at the counter. Bucky glances at the boy. Maybe he would know a way to cheer you up. The both of you had been hanging out together a lot since you were his mentor, besides Tony, of course.

“Parker, what’s something that’ll get (y/n) to cheer up?” The boy perks up at your name.

“Flowers and a jar of Nutella.” He answers almost immediately, a proud grin on his face. His quick answer earned him some looks from his older team mates.

“How would you know that, Parker?” Nat asks him, sitting in the stool beside him. Peter fiddles with his fingers as he adjusts himself in his seat. His mouth opens to answer but Sam interrupts him.

“Someone gotta crush on (y/n)?” Sam teases the teenager. Peter’s eyes widen as his cheeks turn rosy, a clutter of stutters coming out his out.

“N-No! I mean— she’s pretty, really pretty. Beautiful in fact, but no, I don’t—I don’t have a crush on Ms. (y/n).” He manages to defend himself. A poor attempt of a defense in Sam’s opinion. Sam shakes his head at the boy, “Buck, looks like you’ve got competition.”

Peter’s eyes almost fall out their sockets at the mention of Bucky. The boy stares at the metal arm that could choke and kill him in an instant. “No! You don’t have any competition Mr. Barnes, sir, I swear.”

Nat smirks from beside him as Wanda chimes from behind them, “I could read minds, Peter!” She sang.

“How do you even know she likes flowers and Nutella?” Natasha asks him.

“Um—I asked her to go to prom with me, remember? She said she’ll only go with me if I buy her flowers and a jar of Nutella.” Peter answers. Bucky was up at his feet at an instant, patting his shorts for his wallet. When he felt the bulky object he glanced at the elevator. Walking behind Peter, he pats the boy’s back with his metal hand. Peter jumps almost yelping in his seat.

“Thanks, Parker.” Bucky chuckles then walks to the elevator.

He takes a train to get around the city. He ends up at the nearest retail store, looking through the shelves for Nutella and other things you might like. Once he had two bags full of treats and gifts he approaches the man outside the store who had a cart full of flowers. He didn’t know if you had a preference, but he chose the brightest out of the bunch. To him it represented your personality and the effect you had on his life.

He rushes back to the compound, bags in each hand and a bouquet of flowers under each arm. The sight of him might’ve been funny, a large bulky man with arms full of colorful flowers, a teddy bear, and all the cheesy pick me up gifts. He enters the kitchen not bothering to greet the others. Though he stops to take out two spoons from the drawers. Steve looks at him curiously while Sam nods at him in approval.

He heads straight to your room, excited to give you all the gifts he’s gotten you. He knocks on the door with the top of his foot, “I’m coming in!” He struggles to twist the knob of the door but he somehow manages to get it to open.

He slams the door shut with his back and greets you with a wide smile. Your eyes widen at him in shock.

“Surprise!” He yells happily. You feel your lips tug themselves upwards at him. You shuffle around in your bed, moving the blankets out the way.

“What’s all this?” You ask him trying to peer into the bags. He places them on the floor, gesturing for you to sit back.

“Alright, first off, here’s some flowers.” He grins handing you the two colorful bouquets. A giggle erupts from you as you take them from him. You take a whiff of the flowers, the floral smell entering your senses.

He digs through the bag and pulls out a large jar of Nutella. You gasp as Bucky presents it to you with a golden spoon from the kitchen. He hands them to you then bends back down to go through the bag.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted some snacks, so I got some cookies, your favorite chips, crackers, some wine. I didn’t bother getting a cup, just chug the bottle.” He explains placing each item onto your bed.

“I also got you a teddy bear. But they had too many and I didn’t know which one you’d like so I got the bear, a llama, and a dog.” He chuckles bopping your face with the llama’s snout. You laugh as you try to hold all of them in your arms.

“Oh yeah, and here’s some candy.” He places at least five boxes of different kinds of candy onto your lap. You look at him in awe, the joy bursting in your chest at his lovely gesture. The happiness soon became too much and your eyes began to water. The proud smile on Bucky’s face falters, his shoulders slumping. He crouches in front of you, hands beside your legs.

“No! Doll, what’s wrong? Was it the candy? Do you not like skittles? Or is it the Hershey’s kisses? I could take them back! Do you not like the llama?” Questions began to roll off his tongue as he stared up at you. His thumbs came up to wipe stray tear from your face. A laugh bubbles from your chest, your free hand gripping onto his wrist.

“No, Bucky, this is just—no one’s really done this for me before. Thank you.” You smile at him through your tears. “Thank you, I really really appreciate it. You didn’t have to do all of this honestly.” You sniffled fiddling with the plush llama’s fur.

“It’s fine doll, honestly. Anything to see that smile on your face.” He grins up at you, happy with himself that he got to bring the smile that formed crinkles to the side of your eyes. You giggle once again and place all the gifts on your bed, you leans towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and hiding your face into his neck. Bucky sighs in content, his metal hand coming up to stroke circles onto your back.

“Thank you, Buck.” You whisper against the skin of his neck. Bucky presses a kiss to your temple, “Anytime darling.”

You pull away and organize the things on your bed. You sit against the headboard did your bed and motion for him to join you.

“I’m gonna need help eating all of this.” You tease him. He settles beside you, arm around your shoulder. He reaches for a pack of Reese’s and rips it open with his teeth.

“Well good thing I’m a super soldier.” He chuckles tuning into the movie on your tv. You get curious and look at him.

“How did you know about the flowers and Nutella though?” You question him with a raised brow.

“Spider-boy.” He answers mouth full of the peanut butter cups. You laugh and lean back into his arm. You reach for the jar of Nutella and twist it open, pealing of the gold seal. Your spoon dips into the chocolate, breaking the smooth surface.

Bucky glances at you, “Feelin’ better?”

The spoon hangs from the corner of your mouth, savoring the delicious spread, “Much better.”

[lovinkiri]

If The Roles Were Reversed || One

UA!Dabi x Reader

UA!Shigaraki x Reader

UA!Toga x Reader

UA!Twice x Reader

UA!Compress x Reader

Author's Thoughts: Okay so I was just thinking, what if the LOV were seniors in UA, and emotionally stable enough to not be villains, and ekvekbd

Warning: Swearing, Scratching, etc.

EVERYONE IS 18+

Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

People couldn't help but stare at the two of you. You knew it was because of your boyfriend though, who was used to the stares by now.

"What happened to him?"

"They really let guys like that in the hero course? Look at the scarred face."

"The whole course looks like a group of villians, I'm not surprised."

You went to speak out. I mean, it wasn't his fault his quirk was self destructive. Though he was taking courses in Quirk Control, the scars he'd gotten before enrolling in UA stuck.

But before you could utter a word, Dabi sighed and wrapped an arm around you, giving the gossips a look that could scare a pro.

"Don't worry about it, babe. It's alright. I just wish they'd say it to my ugly scarred face." He spoke loudly and sarcastically, raising his voice even more towards the end.

You huff and glare at the already scared freshmen. "I just wish they'd take a look in the mirror themselves."

And now they were scared and offended.

You look back to Dabi and sigh. "You know you're sexy, right Touya?" You raise an eyebrow, Dabi snickering at how serious the question was asked.

"Can't look that bad if I've got such a cute little thing on my arm." He smirked, watching as you immediately got flustered.

"Y-Yeah, c'mon." You pull him to class, Dabi chuckling.

Upon entering the classroom, he immediately looked to Shigaraki. "Hey, Crusty."

Shigaraki glared at the Dabi. "Morning, Crispy."

With Shigaraki, you let it slide. You knew this was their way of being friendly to each other. Then Toga came bounding over, hugging you from behind.

"Hi, Touya! Morning, Y/n!" She grinned. Dabi scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's Dabi."

"You let Y/n call you Touya!"

"Are you Y/n?"

"No.."

"Okay then, Crazy."

"Crazy?!"

You laugh and smile. It was never boring, being with Dabi.

Tomura Shigaraki

"Tomura!"

He sighed and looked at you, drowning out the rest of the hero course. You walked over with your lunch and plopped down next to him, slapping his hand away from his neck. "You're scratching again. I know it's a bad habit but-"

Tomura rose an eyebrow, wondering what caused your silence. Then he followed your gaze to his hands.

Before he could speak, you broke out into a grin. "You got your new gloves! Now we can hold hands!"

Sighing once more, he shrugged. "I don't get why its such a big deal. You were more excited than I was."

He was lying. He was secretly just as excited. The thought of holding your hands, running his fingers through your hair, holding you without having to be careful of his fingers. He couldn't wait.

You kissed his cheek and laid your head against his shoulder. "Can we hold hands later?" You asked looking up at him with irresistible eyes.

"You don't have to ask, you know." He grumbled as he wrapped an arm around you. The rest of the hero course let out either genuine or sarcastic awww's.

"Its not fair. How did Shigaraki start dating before any of us?" Toga asked with a pout. Dabi snorted in laughter. "They like 'em crusty and flaky."

Tomura glared at him. "Better crusty than charred and burnt." He retaliated.

Dabi gave a lazy grin. "Oi, I'm not burnt. I'm crispy."

The entire table, not including Tomura, devolved into laughter. Tomura rolled his eyes, laying his cheek against the top of your head. "Idiots. They're all idiots."

You smiled. "Please. You love 'em."

"Tch. Whatever." He huffed.

Himiko Toga

You waited by the school gates patiently for Himiko. You knew she was probably getting some new upgrades to her hero costume, so you didn't mind.

"Y/n, Y/n!"

You turned and Himiko jumped into your arms. Thankfully, you were able to wrap your arms around her and steady yourself. This wasn't the first time so you had practice.

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Hey, your reflexes are getting better!" She pointed out.

You smiled and chuckled in at the remark. "Thank to you. You seem more excited than usual."

"Oh yeah! I got this awesome new upgrade." She said proudly. Pulling away from the embrace and instead holding your hand, she started to pull you along.

"Yeah? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head. Himiko proceeded to go into a detailed ramble about her upgrade, her free hand making exaggerated motions.

You couldn't help but admire how her eyes seemed got so much brighter. It was obvious she was excited to test it out.

Others who weren't used to seeing you guys around stared, but minded their business as you glared at them. You weren't gonna let anyone bring her down. Knowing people already whispered about how odd she seemed in the school hallways, you'd decided she didn't need to hear that outside of school too.

"And so it'll be easier to shift between forms!" She finished, looking at you, looking for your approval.

Kissing her cheek, you chuckled. "That sounds amazing. And it was your idea?" You grinned as she enthusiastically nodded. "Yeah! Of course, you inspired me! Remember last week when you said it'd been cool if I could switch between forms more freely?"

Your expression morphed into confusion. "Huh? That was a month ago."

She shrugged. "A week, a month, a year! It's all the same!"

Laughing softly, you nodded. "Sure, Himiko."

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

Jin smiled as you pulled his mask on, trying to nuzzle into your hands.

"Jin- I can't get it on when you do that." You chuckled, a smile tugging at your own lips. "I don't see why you couldn't put your own mask you."

"Because I like it when you're near me! Stop asking questions." He responded, pulling you closer by your lower back.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you quickly pecked his lips before fully getting the mask on. "You a sweetheart, you know that?"

He nodded. "I know!" Then quickly shook his head. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Right. Well, be careful at training today. I think they're gonna make you fight Dabi." You warned. You knew Jin was strong but Dabi was something else. Losing usually made him fight harder. And sometimes, he lost himself.

"Oh please, that's nothing. Nothing but a death wish! He's still pissed at me for spilling juice on him at lunch today!" Your boyfriend began pacing, holding his head dramatically.

His head whipped to you as you started laughing. "Why are you laughing? Last time we sparred, I had to sleep with an ice pack on my ass! For a week! And he was sleepy!" He pressed, mocking betrayal once your laughter continued.

"I-I'm sorry, Jin! I'm just remembering that pillow you had yo sit on in class. You know, as to know irritate the burns on your butt." You covered your mouth to stifle anymore sounds of amusement.

Jin whined at the memory, placing his hand on his ass. "It's not funny, babe!"

You grinned and cleared your throat, taking a breathe. "Alright, alright. But you were just distracted that day. And the voices are a lot easier to ignore when your mask comes off in combat now, aren't they?"

Walking over, you gently placed your hand on his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch, almost cat like. "It's so much easier to focus now. But it can be kinda difficult with you lookin so damn good while watching me!"

Jin leaned down, attempting to kiss you from under his a mask. You laughed and tried pulling away, hands on his chest. "J-Jin!"

"Oi, are you done yet? It's our turn Jin!"

Gulping nervously, Jin lifted his mask a bit to give you an actual kiss. You returned it, humming softly then pulled away. He shrugged. "In case I die."

Then there was an burst of heat. "Get over here, Jin!"

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

Atsuhiro smirked at the villian before him, twirling his cane ever so casually. "Tsk, tsk. You've got a flashy quirk, but there's no flare."

What was supposed to be a training retreat turned into a surprise attack. These villians never knew when to give up.

He quickly dodged another attack and gave a mocking hum, as if he were thinking. "Oh I know!" He hit his fist against his palm. "You're missing the element of surprise! You're completely predictable!"

Laughing as the villian the got angry, he shrugged. "Unlike me!" He dodged once more before shooting out a marble that you'd been compressed in for a while.

Once free, you launched an attack to the villiain. "Surprise!" You grinned as you foot connected into the villian's back, the impact sending him tumbling into a tree.

Atsuhiro caught you in his arms and you spread yours out. "I see, you haven't met my lovely assistant, have you?" Sitting youdown, the two of you prepared for another attack.

"Delaware Smash!" The villain cried out, running to the both of you, dodging Atsuhiro's efforts at compressing him.

You managed to dodge, but Atsuhiro wasn't so lucky, taking blow after blow before colliding into a tree.

"Hiro!" You yelled out, running towards him. It was when you held a hand out that you halted. "Now, now, Dear, worry not. It is not who's in trouble."

The villain's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That's when you noticed a marble rolling from compresses hand. It would seem the villain noticed to but it was too late.

Before anyone could react, Spinner was there dishing out attacks. Atsuhiro stood, leaning against the tree. Running over, you helped him to balance himself.

"You had Spinner this whole time?" You asked in surprise, eyes wide. He chuckled softly and gave a small bow. "As I said, the element of surprise is very important."

"Boss! The heroes are here!"

The villain glared at us, dodging Spinner and jumping from place to place. "This isn't over." He mumbled before bounding off.

Spinner went to go after him, but Atsuhiro had his cane in front of him in a second. "Let them be."

Spinner opened his mouth to protest but sighed and nodded.

You guys soon grouped up with the rest of the class, only to see Toga on the verge of tears.

"Himiko, what's wrong?" Spinner asked, you guys rushing over. Holding back a sob, she looked up.

"They kidnapped Shigaraki!"

[love-and-monsters]

Faebruary: Fake Dating

M Faerie X F human, 7,922 words

You guys remember this post? Well, here’s the story it was based on. A human gets lost in the Faerie world, and her only hope of getting back home safe is agreeing to go on a date with one smug Faerie boy. Hope you enjoy!

Admittedly, this was probably something you should have seen coming when you stepped into a fairy ring.

It was stupid. Everyone said you weren’t supposed to step inside the little circles of mushrooms that sprouted up all over the hills. But it was just stupid. Fairies weren’t real. So when there had been a circle of mushrooms across your path, you had just walked toward it.

The instant your foot crossed the line, there was a sickening spinning feeling in your stomach. Your foot plunged down like you’d missed a step in the dark and you fell into a swirling sea of mist.

You came to spitting out leaves, though you couldn’t remember hitting the ground. It was as if the ground had materialized against your face. Slowly, you staggered upright.

There was no longer sunlight. The forest was full of mist. And the trees seemed much more closely clustered than they had before. Their bark was darker, their branches more gnarled and reaching.

It was deathly silent. You wrapped your jacket closer around yourself. “Hello?” you called. Your voice died a foot from your throat. It was like the mist absorbed the sound.

Several feet in front of you, a pale blue light blinked into being.

“Hey!” you called. “I’m over here!” The blue light winked and bobbed, then began to shrink into the distance. You plunged through the foliage after it.

No matter how fast you ran, the light seemed to be permanently ahead of you. It sped up as you went onward until you were flat-out sprinting to keep up.

“I wouldn’t follow the light if I were you.”

You skidded to a stop, feet skidding on the damp leaves. The voice had come from somewhere above you. Squinting in the dim light, you could make out a figure crouching in the tree branches. Lightning fast, the figure leaped, vanishing into the mists.

“Fuck!” you swore, looking around. The figure was gone. It had moved so fast you hadn’t even been able to see where it had gone. Frantic, you looked for the blue light. Had it gotten away while you were looking at the figure?

“You’re not going to lose the light.” The voice came from behind and above you this time. You whipped toward it. The figure was pointing into the distance. Following the finger, you could see the gentle gleam of blue light bobbing there, like it was waiting.

An unsettled crawling feeling moved up your spine. “How did you know it was going t be there?”

Details of the figure were impossible to make out in the dim lighting, but you could hear that he was grinning. “Because will-O-the-wisps are nothing if not predictable.”

He punctuated his sentence by leaping from the tree and coming to a crouched landing in front of you.

You stared. What had landed in front of you was not human. He looked vaguely human, even handsome, by some definitions. A strong, though narrow, jaw, sharp nose, black hair that was teased back into a carefully disheveled style. But he was dressed in odd clothes, the sort of thing you’d expect from an old English court, and he had a tail. A long, thin tail that weaved and twisted behind him like it was caught in a current. And he had antlers, small, but pronounced antlers.

“I forgot,” he said. “Mortals are so often stunned into silence when they see the natural splendor of the Fair Folk.”

That made you find your tongue. “What are you?”

His smirk vanished. “There was a time when mortals were rightfully respectful of us. If you had half a head of sense, you would be on your knees, begging for mercy.”

There was a pause, as if he was waiting for you to do so. You didn’t, though you kept your mouth cautiously shut. He snorted. “I’m a Fae. One of the Fair Folk. And you, little mortal, are utterly trapped in the Faerie lands.”

“Trapped?” you repeated. An icy cold stone dropped into your stomach.

The Faerie grinned. “Now you see the truth of your situation. Yes. You’re trapped. Unless you convince a Faerie to let you go, you’ll be trapped in this land for all eternity.” He swept closer to you. “And this place is not safe for lone mortals. There are things here that would make you wish the will-O-the-wisp would have dragged you down into its bog and stripped the meat from your bones.”

You couldn’t repress a shudder. The Fae noticed and his smile grew wider. “I assume you’re telling me this for a reason,” you said, keeping your eyes on him.

“Me?” he said, pressing a hand to his chest, the picture of faux-innocence. “I want to show you the way out. You do want to go home, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uh huh. And I’m assuming you want something in return.”

His lips curled. “Figures the one thing humans wouldn’t forget about a Faerie is that we like even trades. It would make things so much easier.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding his antlers. “Yes. If you would like me to guide you out of the Faerie world, then I will need something in return.”

He didn’t continue. You narrowed your eyes at him. “And what is that?”

He huffed out a sigh. “Not going to write me a blank check, hm? Fine. If I am going to lead you out of here, I need you to agree to attend a Faerie party with me.”

That threw you for a loop. “You want me to what?”

“Attend a party with me,” he said, grinning at your confusion.

“That’s it?” you asked. He nodded.

“One night, twelve hours, at a party with me,” he said. “All I need is for you to attend as my date.”

That seemed far too good to be true. “Is this a trick? Some kind of way to trap me or humiliate me or otherwise coerce me into staying?”

The Faerie rolled his eyes. “Are all humans so suspicious? No. I just need a date.”

“Why don’t you pick a Faerie, then?” you asked.

“Because I think you would piss of my parents the most,” he said.

You lifted one of your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

 He waved a hand. “Neither. I just need a mortal. That would completely ruin their night.”

There was genuine venom in his voice when he said it. You stared at him, struck dumb. How old was he? You mentally reassessed him. His age was sort of difficult to determine. There was an unearthly beauty to him, no sign of the sort of little imperfections that come around with age. But if you looked really closely, studied the lines of his face, he looked like someone barely out of his teenage years. Maybe nineteen, or at least the Faerie equivalent. You held back a snort. At least maturity wise, you were probably around two years older than he was.

The Faerie drew himself up haughtily, apparently taking your silence as some sort of agreement. “You must state your agreement out loud. It will be a Faerie agreement, so there will be no going back on your deal.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Backing out of a Faerie deal is not a good idea, especially for a fragile mortal.”

You eyed him cautiously. There was still a chance he was trying to trick you or coerce you or trying to do something else of the sort. But, given how young he seemed, you were somewhat less inclined to suspicion. The longer you spent with him, the more affected his persona seemed. It was the posturing of someone who had just been given their first taste of power and was still unsure how to properly use it.

“All right,” you said. “How do we make an agreement?”

The Faerie smiled smugly and extended a hand. Several of his fingers were clad with large, heavy rings, inset with black gems. All of them bore a triangular symbol. “Take my hand.” He said it like it was some sort of great favor to you. You did so. His fingers felt oddly sharp under his skin, slender and bony. “Now. The stipulations of this deal are that I will return you to the human world, to your home. In exchange for this, you will attend a dance with me as my date. You will be my date for twelve hours, over one night. Once the night is over, I will return you home again.”

“I have stipulations,” you said, forcing your voice to be confident. He lifted an eyebrow, but allowed your to continue. “While I am your guest, you will not conspire against me in any way. You will not allow me to come to any harm, nor will you attempt to trap me here once more. If I am harmed in any way, the deal is null and void and you will return me home immediately.”

The Faerie wrinkled his nose. “I would not allow my date to be harmed. Even if you are a mortal, the rules of hospitality still apply to you.”

“And you won’t allow me to unknowingly do anything that could harm me,” you added. The Faerie gave you a sarcastic look.

“Are you finished?” he drawled. You hesitated, trying to wrack your brain for anything else you might need. Nothing came immediately to mind.

“Yes. I’m finished,” you said, however suspiciously. The Faerie grinned.

“Then the deal is struck.” His voice seemed to boom through the forest. A tingling sensation ran across the back of your hand, then it sharpened into a piercing sting, like an insect was biting the back of your hand. You yelped, but the Faerie held onto your hand firmly.

The sting faded and the Faerie released your fingers. You shook your hand, trying to get the blood to flow through it again. On the back of your hand, imprinted as neatly on your skin as a tattoo, was a black marking. It was a circle, emblazoned with some kind of angular sigil.

 “It marks our bargain,” the Faerie said, showing you his own hand. He was similarly marked, though his brand was bright purple. “Should either of us break it, the mark will sink into our skin, and we shall endure some sort of tragedy.” He smiled, all needle-sharp teeth and cruelty. “So be certain that you do not break it.”

“I won’t,” you said, voice flinty. The Faerie looked amused by your anger.

“Then I shall fulfill my bargain first,” he said. He held out his arm to you, as if he was escorting you to a party rather than freeing you from an alien realm. “Shall we go?”

You hesitated, but he had made a promise. And you had also heard that Faeries couldn’t lie. You took a deep breath and linked your arm through his. “Yes.”

The Faerie took a step forward and the ground tilted under your feet. The mist billowed out obscuring your vision. The only thing that seemed real was the Faerie next to you. Your grip on him tightened, despite yourself.

“Move,” the Faerie said into your ear. You took an uncertain step forward. The mist had covered the ground so thickly that it looked like you were walking on clouds. When you took a step forward, the ground seemed to spin under your feet, like you were covering more distance than you should have been. You felt dizzy, but the Faerie moved forward with uncompromising speed and pulled you along. Only a few steps later, the mist had disoriented you so much that you couldn’t tell where anything was. The world seemed to be spinning around you even when you weren’t moving. You needed to cling to the Faerie’s arm to stay on your feet.

Sunlight pierced through the trees and you squinted your eyes shut. The mist evaporated within seconds and you were standing once more in your familiar forest, blinking up into the bright light.

“And my part of the bargain has been fulfilled.” The Faerie looked no less alien and beautiful in the human world. He grinned at you. “Home again, exactly where you were taken.”

You were still clinging to his arm, you realized. Slowly, you unwound your fingers from his shirt and stepped away.

“I shall return for you on the night of the Winter Ball.”

“Which is when?” you asked.

“The full moon next. I shall find you proper garments.” He gave you a critical once over, indicating that he wasn’t optimistic about your chances of finding them yourself. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “We will meet again then.”

Mist rolled across your vision. When it melted away again, he was gone. You stared at the spot for a moment, then looked down at your hand. The marking was still there, as starkly black as it had been before. At least it was proof that you hadn’t made it up. With a final glance at the Faerie ring a few feet away, you turned and headed out of the forest.

The sun’s position told you that you should have arrived back a few hours after you left. Your arrival home informed you that was actually a day and a few hours since you’d left. Your mother left you with a lecture ringing in your ears, one that had only gotten more aggressive when she’d seen the marking on the back of your hand. No matter what you said, there was no way to convince her that you hadn’t gotten drunk, gotten a tattoo, and passed out in the woods somewhere. Admittedly, you were a little disheveled. Once you had freed yourself from her grasp, you slipped up to your room and checked your calendar.          

The next full moon was just over a week away. You marked it off on your calendar and took a deep breath. Right. Time to start prepping.

Your week was filled with pawing through old books and scouring the internet for every scrap of Faerie lore that you could find. By the time the full moon had rolled around, you had gathered as many supplies as you could find.

You were waiting in your room uncertainly when the full moon rose. The Faerie had told you he would find you, but did you need to be outside for it?

Before you could make any decisions on it, the moonlight filtering through your window thickened into a sheet of silver. It rippled and the Faerie stepped out of it like a doorway.

Unfairly, he looked even more handsome than he had when you’d met in the woods. He was dressed in silvery clothes, a flowing robe and cloak with a silvery ruff. His tail and ears were adorned with silver bangles, a choker pressed tight to his throat, and his horns were covered in silvery strands, like tinsel.

“You could have freshened up a little more,” he said, giving you a once-over. You gritted your teeth and one of your hands went to the little bag you had tied to your waist, hidden securely under your shirt. It was filled with salt and little pieces of iron. More iron and salt packets lined the inside of your clothes and you had strapped an iron knife to the inside of your thigh. A string of rowan berries was tied at your neck. With any fortune, those charms would be enough to drive off any cruel Faeries.

“I thought you were going to provide me with the garments you found appropriate,” you said in a clipped voice.

 “Only because mortals unilaterally lack taste,” he said. “There’s really only so much I can do.” He stepped back and gave a broad gesture toward the shaft of moonlight. “We only have an hour before the Ball starts. Hopefully that’s enough time to make you presentable.”

You drew yourself up and stepped through the portal of light. A chill rolled over your skin, like you had stepped through a cloud of mist.

One of your feet struck a tiled floor and you stopped. The moonlight faded into a tall, ice-white room with an arched ceiling and silvery lights decorating the walls. You paused to take in the décor and the Faerie walked into your back.

“Excuse me,” he snapped, glaring at you. You glared back. “Follow me. I have a dress picked out for you.”

He led you into a small room. A curtain divided it in half and there was a dress draped over a chair. It was gauzy and made of pale blues, silvers, and white. “Put it on. One of the servants will do your hair.”

“Servants?” you said, but he had already swept back out of the room. You sighed and picked up the dress. At least it wasn’t overly elaborate.

You slipped hurriedly into the dress. It was clearly simpler than his outfit, with far less adornment. Perhaps mortals weren’t allowed to wear as much finery as Faeries, or perhaps he just didn’t want you to outshine him. Either way, you were grateful for anything that made the outfit easier to wear.

The servants, as it turned out, were small, fluttering creatures that did your hair in a quick, simple style, a braid that was wound at the nape of your neck and secured with a silver pin. You caught a glance of yourself in a silver reflection. The dress emphasized your curves and complimented your skin tone. Your beauty wasn’t stunning, but it was simple and understated.

As soon as the servants departed, the Faerie was sweeping back into the room, cape swirling around his body. He looked you up and down. “Well, you can clean up nicely,” he said. You caught the way his eyes lingered on you. The faintest hint of a blush colored his cheeks, but then he was turning away. “Come. We need to hurry to arrive on time.”

You picked up your skirts and hurried down the hall after him. Thankfully the shimmering heels you wore were short, so it was not so difficult to walk in them. “I still don’t know your name,” you said as you caught up with him. His gaze shifted to yours suspiciously. Names were important to Faeries, you had read. Clearly, he was trying to determine if you knew that or if you were speaking in ignorance.

Finally, he spoke. “You may not have my name, but you may call me Elwain.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “And yours?”

You told him, mimicking his wording. It was hard to tell if his expression was disappointed or not. He just strode out of the front door and onto the front steps.

Outside was all greenery, and pale, twinkling lights. Elwain led you down the steps and toward a skeletal white horse. You shivered when its pale eyes turned to you. Its mane and tail rippled and flickered like it was made of mist. There was an elegant saddle attached to its back and Elwain easily gripped the reins and pulled himself up onto its back. You hesitated, uncertain of how to climb on. You’d never ridden a horse before.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Elwain said. You glared at him. He merely rolled his eyes and extended a hand. You gripped it. His fingers were strong and steady against yours as he pulled you up into the saddle behind him. Your hands moved automatically to his waist. A flicker of something moved through your stomach before you quashed it.

The horse took off, hooves striking the ground with a sound like metal clanging. You lurched into Elwain’s back, fingers tightening at his waist. His breath caught for a moment, though you weren’t sure if it was actually your grip causing it.

The ride was swift and rocky. You were pressed awkwardly to Elwain’s back for most of it, leaning against him with every motion of the mount.

You were expecting to stop at another house, some sort of grand mansion like the one you’d left from. Instead, you stopped outside a grove of trees. They were covered in twinkling lights and noises of whooping celebration echoed through the air.

Elwain dismounted flawlessly. You twisted, attempting to copy his elegant motion. Your foot caught in the stirrup. With a stomach-flipping jolt, you stumbled.

A hand braced itself between your shoulder blades. The back of your head impacted a chest. You tilted your gaze backward. The upside-down face of Elwain stared back at you. “Mortals,” he sighed. “Hold onto me.” He shifted his position so you could get your arms around his neck. That fluttering feeling of attraction started in your chest again as he balanced you against his shoulder and reached down to undo your foot from its catch in the stirrup.

As soon as your leg was free, he lifted you up, carrying you away from the horse. “Are you all right?” he asked. You could feel his breath against your cheek. Your faces were right next to each other.

“I’m fine,” you said. There was a slight catch in your voice. A pink flush worked across Elwain’s face and he deposited you on the ground once more.

“Then we should go.” He looked at you for a moment, then sighed and reached out and fiddled with the choker at your neck. His fingers traced lightly over your skin. Your breath caught.

“There. Better,” he said, drawing himself up. “Take my arm. Stay close to me. Avoid eating anything. Take nothing from anyone. Do you understand?”

You nodded. “I understand.” You looped your arm through his. He looked at you for a moment longer, then turned toward the entrance of the party.

Music filtered through the air as you stepped through the grove of trees. It was odd, but alluring. It reminded you of lights shifting on walls, the tone constantly changing with odd trills throughout, but it was still beautiful. You shook your head, refocusing.

People swirled around you as you entered the clearing. They were strange, dressed in flowing robes and bright jewels that hung from tails and horns. As odd as it all was, it was hard to tear your eyes away. Everything was kaleidoscopic, mesmerizing.

“Try not to look,” Elwain said. His voice was less than an inch from your ear. “Mortal minds struggle to comprehend the true nature of Faeries.” You lowered your gaze to the ground.

Elwain led you onward, across the forest floor, toward the center of the throng. Bright lights fell on you and you squinted against them. “Announcing the Silver Son, Elwain Corridale, and his mortal consort!”

There was a sudden burst of murmuring, chittering, and general commotion. You lifted your chin, meeting the gazes of the Faeries who were looking at you with interest. Across the clearing, you could see two people, similarly beautiful and draped in clothes similar to Elwain’s, glaring. Presumably Elwain’s parents. You stared resolutely back at them.

The lights shifted away from you, but you could feel the gazes of the crowd on you regardless as Elwain led you over to the edge of the grove.

“Those two strict looking people your parents?” you asked out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” Elwain whispered back. “Charming, aren’t they?” There was a sarcastic bite to his voice.

“I’m assuming you don’t get along,” you said. You were deliberately not looking at them, but you could feel their cool gazes on you. Elwain snorted.

“No. We don’t.” His gaze flicked over to them, eyes narrowed. “They seem quite irritated, do they not?” There was a note of distinct pleasure in his voice. His pale, inviting lips quirked into a small smile.

“They do,” you said cautiously. “Because you’re with a mortal?”

“Indeed.” He caught your curious gaze and rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shall have to sate your curiosity now?”

“Unless you have something better to do,” you said. “It doesn’t seem like it, considering that you’re hiding in a corner in the middle of a party.”

His gaze snapped over to you, lips curling. “You are especially irritating, even for a mortal, you know?” he said. You just looked at him steadily. He huffed out a sigh and looked back out at the dance floor. “We have not been getting along for a while.”

He lapsed into silence and you waited for a moment. “Why not?” you pressed when his was clear he was not going to be forthcoming with the answers.

Elwain grimaced. “I am the oldest of my family, set to inherit their wealth and land and the responsibility of keeping the family name out of the mud and in good standing. I’d much rather not have the responsibility. My younger sibling would be far better at taking the helm, but I am the eldest, so it falls to me, regardless of whether or not I want it, or would even be particularly good at it.” A sharp, cold grin crossed his face. “My parents have been so insistent that I take the position, regardless of my own feelings, so I figured that aggressively smearing the family name would, at the very least, piss them off. If they won’t change their decision, I can make them regret it.” He laughed. It was sharp and brittle, almost like a crow’s caw. Despite yourself, you smirked. Elwain caught your expression. “You seem… pleased.”

“It’s funny,” you admitted. “And I can get behind the idea of spiting your parents.”

Elwain’s smile shifted. It was a subtle thing, just a twitch of his lips and a smoothing of his brows, but it altered his entire expression. There was genuine happiness in his face, and his ethereal beauty melted into something gentler and more boyish. Your stomach gave a little flip. “You’re not irritated?” he asked, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Mortals always seem to get awfully huffy about being used by Faeries.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t irritated. But I understand,” you said. You cast your gaze over at his parents again. The man was talking to someone with enormous antlers and strange, twisting legs, but his mother was glaring at you. Her gaze was like ice. It took all your will to repress a shiver. “Would you like to dance?”

Elwain gave you a surprised look. “You’d like to dance?”

“Better than standing off to one side. And if we’re going to try to be convincing to your parents, we’ll need to put on a better show than this.” Elwain’s surprise melted into an expression of amusement. His arm tightened on yours.

“Certainly. Wonderful point. Shall we?” He pulled you out onto the dance floor, threading you through the Faeries that were already out there. You ended up roughly toward the center. Some Faeries, the ones you figured were lower-class, avoided you, while others completely ignored your presence. Elwain stopped and turned to you, one hand settling on your waist, the other hand gripping yours. “Will you be able to keep up?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

You grinned back, mimicking his sharp grin. “Try me.”

The music was fast and energetic as you started to move. The beat was bouncing, easy to keep track of. Elwain led and you followed easily. Together, you swirled and weaved around the other couples.

Elwain’s hand shifted on your waist, tugging you closer to him. His fingers interlaced with yours. The beat of the music thrummed through your body, pounding in time with your heart. You were tepidly aware of other people around you, but you paid them no mind. Instead, you focused on Elwain’s face above yours, the slight knit of his brow as he focused on each dance move.

The music came to a stop. You blinked. It was as if you were stepping out of a trance, or waking from a dream. Your body was pressed against Elwain’s, almost chest to chest. With every step, you had drawn closer to each other. Your head was tilted sharply back to still look him in his face. His lips were parted slightly, and you found yourself tracing the curve of his mouth with your eyes. His fingers were tight on your lower back, tangled in the fabric of your dress.

“You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Elwain said. There was still that little edge to his voice, but it was wavering, as if it was a struggle to keep it up. He was panting a little, and you weren’t sure if it was actually from the exertion or not.

“So are you,” you said. You were staring up into his eyes. His pupils were large, endless and abyssal. He let out a slow, shuddering breath. His grip on your back loosened.

As you broke apart, you became aware of the gazes that rested upon you. Half the Faeries on the dance floor around you were staring, only swaying vaguely as a pretense for dancing. “Take a bow,” Elwain said, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smile. He swept out an arm and you mimicked him before bending low into a deep bow.

There was some scattered applause as you departed the dance floor, returning to your original place. Elwain was smiling in a smug, self-satisfied way. “I’m fulfilling my end of the bargain, yes?” you asked in an undertone.

Elwain looked down at you. “You’re certainly more effective than I thought you would be,” he said. “I can’t quite remember the last time I’ve had such a good time at a party.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” you decided.

“Good,” Elwain said. His voice quieted a little and sincerity blossomed in his tone. “I meant it as one.”

Before you could fully register what he’d said, Elwain’s mother came sweeping across the room toward you. She looked regal and fine, like a sculpture carved out of ice, her eyes blazing with cold fire. Her blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun, set in place with a silver, diamond-encrusted comb.

“Mother,” Elwain said. His voice was chilly enough to provoke a shiver, but you lifted your chin and stared defiantly back as his mother looked you up and down. Her lip curled and she gave you a clear look of disapproval.

“My son,” she said. Her voice hit like a whip. It took some willpower to avoid flinching. “I would like to speak to you for a moment.” It was clearly not a suggestion.

“Of course,” Elwain said, his voice measured and polite. He turned to you and fixed you with a smile. It was startlingly warm and your stomach flipped over. You bit your tongue, trying to kick the feeling away. No. Bad. Don’t start catching feelings for this guy. Elwain bent at the waist, drawing one of your hands up to his lips. His mouth brushed delicately along your knuckles. “I will return. Wait for me.”

His mother’s expression became icier and more remote, but she said nothing as she and Elwain stepped away from you. They moved to somewhere still within your eyesight, but out of earshot. You could tell they were having an intense, whispered conversation, and you could guess that you were the topic, but you couldn’t catch any details.

You were so distracted, trying to catch a whisper of their conversation, that you didn’t notice the Faerie at your side until he had grabbed your arm.

“Little mortal,” he crooned. He was pretty, so much so that it was uncanny to look at. You tried to pull your arm free from his, but his fingers were sharp and immovable as solid wood. He tugged on you, dragging you slowly but undeniably toward the dance floor.

“Little mortals shouldn’t be all alone in Faerie,” he said. His voice bounced around the inside of your head, banging off the sides of your skull until your brain was suffused by ringing noise. It was dizzying. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He was dragging you steadily toward the dance floor. Memories of your studies screamed alarms at you. Mortals trapped in swirling Faerie dances, unable to stop even as their feet bled and their muscles strained with exhaustion. Already, you could hear the enchanting, piping music. Your brain was fuzzing. One of your hands scrabbled for the cold iron pendant under your dress, but your fingers felt clumsy. You couldn’t resist. Why did you even want to resist? The music was so beautiful, leaping through your veins, and it would be so amazing to just be able to dance…

Someone’s hand caught yours. You staggered to a stop, the fog retreating from your brain. The Faerie snarled, dropping his grip on you.

“I would thank you not to try and steal my date,” Elwain said. His voice was freezing. Even with the full force of it turned on someone else, you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering. The Faerie that had tried to grab you shrank back.

“Of course, if I had known the mortal was yours, I would have left her alone,” the Faerie said, ducking his head and backing away. “Apologies, my lord.” He scrambled back into the crowd, melting away.

 Elwain glared after him until he was gone, then turned to you, offering his arm. “Are you all right?”

You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. “Fine.”

“I did tell you to avoid the other Fae,” he said in a scolding tone. You glared at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you said. “He ambushed me.” With Elwain’s arm around yours, the music that had been scrambling your brain seemed distant. He led you back across the room. His fingers were tight on your arm. Even when you were a safe distance away from the other Fae, he didn’t release you.

“Maybe we should stay somewhere else, for now,” he said. He picked his way through the crowd to a gap between the trees and worked his way through them.

It took only a few moments to get to the edge of the forest. The sky overhead was filled with more stars than you’d ever seen. You could even see the gradation of color from the deep navy blue at its zenith to the faint, almost purple color at the edges.

Elwain released your arm and closed his eyes. His expression fell. Suddenly, he looked exhausted and wan. You hesitated before asking, “Did everything go all right with your mother?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “She was most displeased,” he said in a haughty tone that suggested he was mimicking her. “Most displeased indeed that I was disgracing the family name by dallying with a mortal.” He rolled his eyes. “You would think she didn’t have mortal blood in her family.”

“She does?” you said. Elwain lifted a shoulder in a moody shrug.

“Most Faeries do, even the nobility. The Queen is rumored to have mortal blood in her lineage, even. Our own reproductive ability is poor. Mortals are much better at breeding. It’s not uncommon for a Faerie to marry another Faerie and sire all his children with one of his mortal servants.”

“Then why is it such a problem to be with me?” Elwain gave you a look that suggested you were either very thick or very naïve.

“You’re allowed to breed with a mortal, but you’re not supposed to treat them as an equal. You’re certainly not supposed to date one, or show her off as your partner. Breeding with mortals is more of an open secret. Actually marrying a mortal would be a huge drop in status, and as the oldest son of my family, it would be a scandal if I even married a Faerie of lower status, much less a mortal.”

“That’s why you thought I would piss off your parents,” you said. “You’re putting your family status in jeopardy.”

Elwain nodded. “Yes. They’re so concerned about my family name, I figured putting it under threat will at least get some kind of reaction.” There was an undercurrent of vindictiveness in his voice. “Perhaps it will at least get them to see that I am a living person and not just a walking vessel for carrying on their line.”

Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. He went stiff, staring at you. “Glad I could help with that. It sounds like a worthy cause. I’m all for pissing off shitty parents.”

Elwain looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then his mouth twitched and he smiled. “Well, then. We should get back and do it some more, shouldn’t we?” He reached up and took your hand off his shoulder. Instead of hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, as he had been doing, he kept it in his hand.

There was a faint whistling noise. Something whizzed by your ear and made a dull ‘thunk’ as it embedded itself in the tree trunk behind you.

Your ear was stinging. You reached up and touched it. Your hand came away bloody.

“Get down!” Elwain pulled you into the bushes. His body was nearly on top of yours, pressing you down into the undergrowth. One of his hands pressed against the small of your back.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” you said redundantly. Elwain lifted his head slightly, trying to get a look around the brush. Another arrow whizzed by, slamming into the ground less than an inch from your hand.

Elwain made to grab it and yanked his hand back with a hiss. You could smell sizzing flesh. “It’s cold iron,” he said. “They’re for killing Faeries.” Horror crept into his voice. “They’re here to kill me.”

Another arrow plunged into the ground. This one was less than an inch from one of Elwain’s hands. “We need to move before they get a shot!” you said. “I can distract them, then you can run.”

“Wait! That may not be a good ide-” Before Elwain could finish his protest, you pushed your way out of the bush you’d hidden in and plunged blindly into the woods.

There were several more whistling thunks as arrows rained down on you. One of them ripped its way through the skirt of your dress and you had to pause and wrench it free. When you lifted your gaze to start running again, a shadowy figure descended from the trees in front of you.

They were entirely wrapped in black, so their features were difficult to make out, except for the fact that they were tall and skinny. A hand clapped down on your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck. It was cold, with needle-sharp fingers.

“Little mortal,” they crooned. “We were only told to kill the Faerie. With you, we can do whatever we please.” One of their fingers stroked along your cheek. Your mind fogged. “Wouldn’t you like to be my little plaything? We would have so much fun together. Or perhaps it would be funny for that little lordling to die by your hands? What a fitting death for the mortal lover.”

One of your hands went under your dress. Your brain was fuzzy, but your mind cleared as your fingers brushed your string of rowan berries. Still, you kept your gaze as unfocused as possible. Your other hand was creeping under the back of your dress. Your cold iron knife burned against your thigh. “Call out to him,” the Faerie said. “He’ll come for you, and then we’ll see how he fares when his little pet bites back-”

The Faerie had no chance to react. The knife ripped free from its sheath and you wrenched it up then down in a plunging arc. The blade tore into his chest. The smell of burning meat filled the air around you. Flesh sizzled as you ripped the knife down, carving open his belly.

The Faerie’s expression turned from gloating to terror. He staggered back, hands clamped to his gut. His motion wrenched the knife free from your hand, leaving it embedded in his stomach. He fumbled for it once, twice, before pulling it out of him. A gout of blood poured from the wound, soaking through his black clothes and puddling in the dirt.

He collapsed sideways on the ground. He was still breathing. You could hear the soft, wheezing gasps as he struggled for air. Gradually, the breaths became garbled, gurgling. He coughed, body spasming. Something warm and wet was soaking your feet. You didn’t want to look down. There was so much blood around him, more blood than you’d thought could be in a person.

It took a few moments to realize that the gurgling had stopped.

Something crashed through the bushes behind you. You whirled, lifting your second weapon in your hand. It was smaller, blunter, but maybe if you cracked them over the head, you could stun them for long enough you get away-

“Watch yourself. It’s only me,” Elwain said. He emerged into a shaft of moonlight. His long cloak was hanging in tatters from his shoulder and there were smears of muck and dirt across his face and clothes. His hair was in complete disarray. His gaze traveled up and down your body. “You’re bleeding.”

“No,” you said, stepping back to reveal the body on the ground behind you, “I’m not.”

There was a cold pause. Elwain looked between the body and you several times, as if trying to reconcile the evidence. Finally, he stepped past you and knelt next to the body.

“Cold iron,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I should have searched you before bringing you here. I figured humans had largely forgotten all the old methods.”

“If you had searched me, he would have killed me and then you,” you said in a chilly voice.

“A fair enough point,” Elwain said, albeit a touch reluctantly. “You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” He rustled with the body a bit more, then went still, sucking in a sharp breath.

“What?” you said, leaning over his shoulder. He lifted a silvery pendant, dangling it from a chain around his fingers.

“I recognize this,” he said in a hollow voice. “My family crest.”

You stared at the little triangular that dangled from the chain. “He was from your family.”

“Sent by them, at least. The crest marks him as one of our assassins.” His voice caught. It was only the slightest of noises, something that you almost didn’t notice. For a moment, his expression crumpled. He took in a swift, choked breath and his face smoothed over. His eyes were still distant, staring absently ahead.

You reached out and squeezed his hand. His fingers tightened on yours with crushing force. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed deeply. “We need to go. If there’s one, there will be more.” He fumbled with the ties of his cloak. It dropped into the foliage. He was turning to you in a moment, fingers sliding along your bodice. You yelped quietly as he tugged free some of the outer layers of your dress, leaving a shift that would be far easier to run in. Despite the danger, you found yourself focusing on the skim of his fingers against your skin.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Elwain started to tug you through the trees.

He skidded to a stop, gaze darting wildly. “I- I don’t know.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His expression was lost, uncertain. There was nowhere for him to go, you realized. His family was gone. He was being chased by assassins. His life was gone.

Fine. You would take over. “Go back to the mortal world,” you said. “It’ll at least shake them off your tail for a while.”

 Elwain blinked at you, expression clearing. His fingers tightened on yours and he picked up into a run. Within a few steps, you were staggering to a stop in a mortal forest.

“They probably won’t come after me,” Elwain said. “They won’t want to draw the attention of mortals. And as long as I’m here, I’m out of their way.” He blinked slowly. “I have been exiled from Faerie on pane of death.” His voice was hollow, weak.

You leaned against him, trying to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.”

Elwain tossed his head back and laughed. It was a sharp, grating laugh, nearly inhuman. Your hair stood on end hearing it. “I knew my family had executed political irritants before,” he said between choked breaths, “but I never realized they would count me among the number!”

His laughter broke, turned into wracking sobs. He swayed into your side, pressing his face into your shoulder. You rubbed his back helplessly.

It took some time before he lifted his head again. He looked significantly less magnificent in his tattered clothes, with his eyes bloodshot and puffy. There was something oddly endearing about it, though. “I don’t know where to go,” he said in a quiet voice. “I have never had to stay in the mortal world before.”

“You can stay with me,” you said. “But you’re going to have to pull your weight.”

 He looked at you archly, drawing himself up in a way that could have made him look impressive, except the effect was ruined by his running makeup. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to get a job.”

 Two weeks later, Elwain came stumbling into the house and fell face-first onto the couch.

“How was work?” you asked. Elwain let out a tortured groan. “That good, huh?”

“Every day I work there and don’t curse someone is a miracle,” he said, voice still muffled in the cushions.

“I mean, you’re doing pretty good. And the tip money is really something,” you said. It was odd to see Elwain in a cheap fast-food uniform, but even that couldn’t dampen his unearthly attractiveness. There had been a small gaggle of people who’d been leaving generous tips along with some suggestive compliments.

Elwain crawled across the couch and planted his head in your lap. You drew your fingers slowly through his hair. “I don’t see why I have to work a job. I could glamour a few stones into diamonds and we would be set for life.”

You snorted. “The illusion would wear off and selling diamonds isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. If you’re going to live in the mortal world, you need to live like a mortal.”

Elwain rolled his eyes. “You are a slave driver.”

“Yeah, I’m so cruel,” you laughed. “Maybe next time, I’ll let the assassins get you.”

Elwain sat up. His face had a tendency to flush patchily, with red spreading unevenly over his skin. It was oddly humanizing. “It was rather impressive, that move with the knife under your dress,” he said. “You were far more clever than I gave you credit for.”

“Thank you,” you said, a little smug. “Us mortals are quite impressive, aren’t we?”

“Hmph.” Elwain’s blush deepened. “Yes, well. Out of all the mortals I could have picked, I’m quite pleased it was you.” He curled up in your lap. His face nestled into the crook of your neck. “You are quite a special mortal.”

“Hm.” You smiled. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You could feel Elwain’s mouth move against your skin and the soft rush of his breath as he laughed. “Good. It was intended as such.”

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me A very short summary of the fic: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes. Word count: 2.1k A/N: Here is the 2nd chapter! If anyone wants to be added to my taglist just send me an ask or a message 😊

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

“I’m going to bed. I can’t work on the more difficult tailoring for either of us until I’ve had at least a few hours of sleep.” Everyone else had gone to bed about an hour ago, leaving her and Nikolai alone for the first time since they’d met. While he had been a lot more pleasant in the last hour all she could think of now was her bed.

She slowly got up and left the room. Her head felt like it was going to implode. She was already dreaming of crawling in bed under her soft blanket, letting her feet navigate the familiar hallways and stairs.

“Y/N! Wait.” Nikolai had followed her down the hallway and caught up to her before she had a chance to reach her room. So much for my well-deserved rest.

She whirled on her heels “What do you want, Sturmhond?” Her tone had been harsher than she’d meant but she was exhausted. The last thing she wanted was to spend one more moment in the privateer’s company.

“Please, call me Nikolai.” His easy-going flirty tone was gone. He sounded genuine now, almost pleading. “Listen, I know I haven’t made it easy on you. I need you to know that this job is important to me too. I am taking it seriously despite my natural devilishly charming demeanor. My country depends on our success.”

She took a moment to consider this new version of the man standing in front of her. He had almost slipped back behind his mask, but she could tell he was sincere. She understood the urge to hide all too well. “I’m sorry Sturm – Nikolai.” She amended. “I’ll try to sleep for a couple of hours. I should be better company when I wake up.” She genuinely smiled at him for the first time since they’d started working on Dirtyhand’s crazy scheme. “I’ll do all I can to make this job a success. If only so that Kaz won’t kill me.” She laughed softly “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he replied with a quick bow. He left her standing in front of her door and walked back towards the slat’s main floor.

She would have to consider the different personas Nikolai had shown her, at some point, if she hoped to understand him. However, that was a problem for another day. All thoughts of the privateer left her mind when she slipped into sweet unconsciousness. — She woke to loud knocking on her door. She groaned. She was going to kill them. Whoever the idiot was. It felt like she’d only just gotten to bed.

She opened the door with enough force to almost rip it off its hinges. “What the fuck do you – ?” She was standing face to face with Zoya Nazyalensky. Oh, she thought, guess I just shut my chances straight to hell.

Zoya smirked at her. “Good morning to you too. Everyone’s waiting for you downstairs.” She turned to walk away but shot a glance over her shoulder before disappearing down the stairs, her eyes trailing Y/N from head to toe and back up appreciatively. Raising an eyebrow, she added: “You might want to get changed before joining us.”

Y/N had forgotten she was only wearing her short lacy, somewhat see-through, nightgown and felt her cheeks heat up. “Yeah, sure, tell Kaz I’ll be there in a minute.” She stammered. She leaned back against the door as soon as it closed. Oh, well maybe not straight to hell? She quickly got dressed and tailored her cheeks back to normal before making her way to the others. The last thing she needed was to be teased by her friends for being so flustered over Zoya fucking Nazyalenski. She took a deep breath before entering the room.

“How long did I sleep for? Feels like I just went to bed.” She grumbled walking through the door.

Nikolai looked at her apologetically “Judging from when I last saw you, I’d say you probably slept for two hours?”

“Alright” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “I guess that’s all I could really hope for.” She let herself fall on the couch next to Nikolai. Kaz raised an eyebrow at her. Interesting, he thought. There had been an empty armchair, but she’d chosen to sit next to the privateer. Maybe there is hope for the job yet. Torturing her is just a nice bonus.

She turned in her seat to face Nikolai. “I’m going to get started on the more advanced tailoring. It might get a bit uncomfortable. Changing bone structure always is. Let me know if you need a break.”

He’d only nodded at her in reply. She raised her hands to his face cupping his cheek with her left hand and running the fingers of her right hand down the line of his crooked nose. “Zoya, I’ll need you to tell me if the changes I’m making get too close to his actual features. Everyone else can piss off.” The crows took her dismissal seriously and scurried off to make other preparations.

Y/N settled into her work making corrections when needed following Zoya’s comments. She leaned back to admire her work after about three hours. She’d straightened Nikolai’s nose, made it slightly larger, raised his cheekbones and brow, and rounded his strong jaw to make him appear a bit younger. “Alright, I think this should work? The only major thing left is changing your eye colour. I’ll touch everything up once more after that.” Zoya had approached to examine Y/N’s work, staying quiet. “It’d probably be easier to make them hazel instead of green.”

“No,” interjected Zoya. “His eyes are usually hazel. You should make them blue. Nice work. I don’t think I’d recognize him in the street.”

Y/N beamed at Zoya. “Blue it is! That’ll take a while. Do you need a break, Nikolai?”

“I’m alright. Do you need a break? You’ve barely slept, and you still need to tailor yourself.” Well, she thought, that’s new. When did he become so considerate? He had let her work mostly in silence since she’d started that morning. He might not be so insufferable after all. Still a bit too full of himself to her taste but not insufferable.

“I’ll take a break after I’m done with you. I’ll need you to be very still for this.” She took a good look at him. “Zoya, can you make sure no one comes to bother me while I’m finishing up?” she called.

“Sure thing. I’ll get coffee. I have a feeling we could all use some.” As soon as Zoya left the room Nikolai’s shoulders bunched.

“I’m going to start now. You need to let me know if anything’s wrong alright?” Her voice was soft. She almost sounded worried.

He flashed her a bright smile. “I have full confidence in your talents, my dear.” He straightened his back once more. “Let’s do this.” She could tell he was tired and was only putting on a show. She wished he’d stopped hiding behind the self-assured ruler persona he’d mostly shown so far but she didn’t want to push him. She said nothing, opting to get back to work instead.

By the time Zoya got back with coffee Y/N was done tailoring Nikolai. Zoya let out a low whistle. She’d almost dropped the cups she was holding.

“He looks nothing like himself!” She exclaimed. “Once this job’s done you need to come with us to Os Alta. Genya would never forgive me if she didn’t get to meet you.”

Y/N smiled at Zoya and handed Nikolai a mirror. Genya Safin was the most talented tailor in recorded history, a member of the Grisha Triumvirate. Y/N couldn’t believe she’d ever take interest in a barrel rat like her. “Zoya’s right. You’ll have to come with us, or I fear our dear Genya will attempt regicide again.”

“She wouldn’t attempt it, moi tsar. Genya doesn’t fail. She would succeed in getting rid of you.” Zoya sounded amused at the idea.

He shrugged. “She’d probably murder you, my prized general, as well.”

The crows filed in after Zoya to take in Y/N’s work. Sturmhond’s strawberry blond curls were gone, replaced by chestnut brown ones with just a touch of red when exposed to direct sunlight. His green eyes were now a deep blue, slightly bigger than they had been. His shoulders were narrower, his skin tone lighter and his facial structure completely altered. He truly looked nothing like the privateer, or king, he truly was.

“Well done, Y/N.” Kaz’s raspy voice sounded from the back of the room. “Go rest and tailor yourself. Meet us back here in three hours. We’ll go over your covers again once that’s done.” The girl nodded and made her way back to her room on the second floor. — Nikolai couldn’t help but be impressed by the work Y/N had done on him. He was used to Genya’s skills, yet he never thought he’d meet another tailor as talented. He was pretty sure Y/N had even been faster than Genya ever was. She must have had years of practice to be able to perform such advanced tailoring this efficiently.

“How does it feel, Lantsov?” Nikolai jumped. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Kaz standing in front of him.

“How long has she been working for you, Brekker? I’m pretty sure you have one of the most talented tailors of all time on your crew. How did you manage it? Where did you even find her?” Nikolai just couldn’t wrap his head around Brekker’s luck. How does he always manage to have the best of every field on his crew?

Kaz chuckled. “While I appreciate your new-found interest in my tailor. I’m gonna need you to focus on the task at hand until we’ve pulled off this heist.”

Nikolai had been about to reply when Y/N’s voice cut him off. “I am not yours, Kaz Brekker.” She was standing in the doorway.

Nikolai was suddenly very glad he’d been sitting. The grisha had done just as good a job on herself as she had on him. Her usually dark auburn hair was now a vibrant shade of red. Her beautiful green eyes had been replaced by a darker brown. She hadn’t needed to change her complexion, but it looked like she had changed most of her bone structure. Her face was rounder, her lips narrower, her cheeks fuller. She’d even tailored her body, reducing her natural curves to make her seem slightly taller. Nikolai would have never recognized her. Her voice, still captivating, was the only thing that hadn’t changed. He found himself looking for any trace of the girl he had spent hours observing, and even grown to appreciate, in the last few days. Even though this tailored Y/N was beautiful, he had to admit he already missed her true features.

Jesper slung his arm around her shoulders. “You surpassed yourself, love.” He guided her towards the couch. “I have no doubt the job will be a success if everything goes as smoothly as your tailoring.” He only released her to push her down by Nikolai’s side.

Jesper’s attempt to calm things had been evident to everyone, nevertheless, it had seemed to work. Y/N leaned into Nikolai’s side and took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. “Do we look like Kaelish newlyweds yet?”

They spent the next few hours going over every single detail of their new identities. Covering everything that could come up in conversation at the party. Y/N had comfortably settled on the couch never straining too far from Nikolai, playing the role of the perfect little wife. The smell of her hair was intoxicating, and Nikolai was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the proceedings. All he wanted to do was wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to his own body.

Eoin and Ainsley were 24 and 22 years old. They had met two years before getting married. They had had an unusually long engagement, lasting a full year, because Ainsley’s father had gotten sick, and she’d had to take care of her sisters. They had only been married for a few months but were looking into expanding the business to support Ainsley’s family. They wanted to get settled a bit before thinking of building their own family. That’s why Ainsley was working with her husband rather than stay behind at the mansion. How the engagement came to be had already been covered multiple times. Kaz made them rehearse telling the story over and over again.

Only once Kaz was satisfied did they get to take a break and sit down for a quick dinner, which had consisted of sausages, fried potatoes, and bread rolls.

“We’ll go over everything again tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure your clothes are ready by 3 bells. You’ll need to be at Van Verent’s house by 6 bells. Go get some sleep. All of you.” No one dared contradict Kaz, as they were all half-asleep on their feet by the time they were done. —- Tagged: @power-of-words23