#has kept me from moving forward with things in the past in quite a few ways :')

[milfbrainrot]

to be completely honest i think the biggest thing that holds me back from making ocs is i focus so much on difficult dynamics that no matter how i envision a character, there's some type of offensive way it could be interpreted and it just... stops being fun. of course you need to have some considerations for avoiding blatant stereotypes but it rly does hold me back from developing anything out further bc it feels like everything i go to make is tainted and Problematic TM.

[kurokawaia]

❛ NEEDY WOMAN ❜

Hatake Kakashi X Fem!Reader

WC; 3.3k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: x fem!reader, husband!kakashi, wife!reader, pregnant!reader, reader is 3 months pregnant, pregnancy, shy!reader (you get flustered easy, and timid) smut, nsfw, piv, oral -> female receiving, missionary, praise, handjob, slight? begging, pet names 'baby' 'dear' 'love' , fluffy at the end+ more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Please write more about kakashi😭 I love him so much I need him inside me😭 will you write for him pretty please? maybe something like, hes back from mission and his pregnant wife (third month of pregnancy maybe!) is so needy for him, but shes shy, all red and blushing mess around him - ANON

m.list | naruto m.list

Kakashi was back from a mission, and if his students were anything, they were definitely tiring. Sasuke and Naruto's banters were not for the weak. He hoped that he was blessed with a kind kid, preferably one that was a perfect mix of himself and you. 

He had been gone for a week or so, off in a faraway village. So tired from the fight with Zabuza and Haku. The only thing he was looking forward to was sleep and his pretty, pregnant wife. 

As he entered the house, it was unexpectedly quiet. He was expecting your humming voice or your excited squeal as you ran over to him. But, he was met with nothing. Although, it was quite late, just past nine o'clock, he knew that being pregnant had taken a toll on you, being away for a week without him probably didn't make it any better.

Kakashi slid open the door to their bedroom, the sight before him immediately softening his heart and a soft smile rising beneath his mask. You were curled up on the bed, propped against pillows with a book in hand, though your eyes kept drifting shut every few moments. 

Beneath the blanket, he could he the soft curve of your stomach, the baby bump getting near the fourth month, getting bigger, slowly. His smile was so gentle as he gazed at you, ever since you got pregnant, he has just been falling more and more in love with you. 

Your head jerked up as you noticed him, startled but quickly breaking into a wide smile. "Kakashi!" you breathed, setting the book aside.

"Hey, love," he greeted in a low tone, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. He walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your small bump. "Miss me?" he asked you while rubbing his hand over the bump.

You felt your cheeks burn, already flustered just from his presence. Being pregnant had made your emotions run wild, but more than that, you found yourself craving Kakashi's touch more than ever. The way his hand rested gently on your belly made something flutter inside you, and it wasn't just the baby.

"I—of course I did," you replied, a bit breathless, your voice smaller than usual.

Kakashi tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning your flushed face. "You sure? You look a little... warm."

Your blush deepened. "I'm just... glad you're back," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. 

The truth was, you'd been waiting for him anxiously, needing his presence, his touch. But you were too shy to outright say how much you wanted him.

Kakashi's thumb rubbed slow circles over your belly, his dark eyes softening as he took you in. "I missed you, too," he murmured, leaning closer until you could feel his breath on your cheek. "And...?"

You squirmed slightly, biting your lower lip. His proximity was driving you crazy. You'd always been a bit shy around Kakashi, even after being married for a while, but now, with the pregnancy and your hormones out of control, it was even worse.

He moved closer still, one hand slipping behind your back, pulling you toward him as his lips ghosted over your ear. "Tell me what you need, love," he whispered, voice low, he knew just how to tease you. 

You practically melted, hiding your face against his chest. "I... I just missed you. So much," you admitted, your voice smal, voice muffled against his chest.

Kakashi chuckled softly, stroking your back. "Is that all?"

You whimpered softly, shaking your head. "No... I—I just... I need you," you finally whispered, your voice barely audible as you clutched his black shirt tightly, embarrassed by how needy you sounded.

Kakashi's Adams apple bobbed. Fuck. He just got back. You make him crazy, that's for sure. 

He'd sensed your shyness, your hesitancy (It was obvious though), but now that you'd said it, he couldn't hold back. He pulled back slightly to look at you, lifting your chin with a gentle finger so your eyes met his. The way your face was flushed and your eyes were hazy with desire... he wants to take you there and now.

"You're so cute when you're shy," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before pressing his lips softly against yours. The kiss was tender at first, but as you sighed into him, it grew deeper, more intense.

You whimpered into the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders tightly, needing more, needing him. Kakashi's hands trailed down your back, hands gripping at your hips and the nape of your neck, angling your head, while his lips moved against yours, slowly, letting you set the pace.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath slightly ragged. "I'm here now," he said softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "Whatever you need, I'm not going anywhere."

You buried your face in his chest again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he murmured, holding you close, letting you take all the time you needed. "Though, love, I need to take a shower first, wouldn't wanna cause any problems."

You pull your head from his chest, lips par5ted, a devastated expression plastered on your face.  "What?" you say, a pout forming on your lips. "I have to wait."

Kakashi places kisses all over your face before speaking up, "I'm sorry, dear. I won't be long." 

His head moved down, breath tickling the skin below your ear, then the skin between, your neck and collar bone, trailing kisses down, slowly, as heavy breaths fell past your lips. 

"Don't do that," you breathe, your sentence interrupted by the stutters in your breath.

"Do what, dear?" 

"Tease me," you whimpered quietly. "Then go have a shower and leave me here waiting for you, that's torture, baby."

God, Kakashi can't get enough of you.

"I'll be back," Kakashi abruptly said, and you saw the smirk on his lips as he quickly up and left for the bathroom. 

"He's so mean to me sometimes," you huff, knowing that you're going to have to wait.

And so you waited, a long and agonizing five minutes, and you did nothing to quench the heat growing between your thighs. You knew that if you would try to sort out the throbbing, you wouldn't be able to finish. Your fingers have been rendered useless ever since Kakashi and you first had sex, and it pissed you off. 

The door slid open and you eagerly sat up and were met with the most heavenly sight you've seen after being deprived for a week. Kakashi is in a towel with beads of water over the top of his chest, his defined abs, and his white happy trail. You came to a singular conclusion, which was that you needed him so badly, you need him. 

Your cheeks burned red when Kakashi swiftly approached you, cupping your face immediately and kissing your lips. His hands move to cup the nape of your neck, the other slipping on your waist. You whimper into his mouth as his tongue pries your lips open, your hands trembling as they grab onto his shoulders.

Kakashi was unbelievably hard, the bulge was so prominent under the towel, and the friction wasn't doing him any better as he moaned into your mouth. He missed you so much, the way you tase, how you feel, how you depended on him so much for such trivial things. He wants to make you feel so good. 

"You needed me so bad, didn't you, love?" he moans agasint your lips and all you can do is moan, whimper in reply as you nod your head. "I'm here now, baby."

The towel slipped off Kakashi's waist, hitting the wood floors. He slowly moved to lean over you, the two of you now laying on the bed, Kakashi being on top of you, pinning your hands by the sides of your head, fingers intertwined while you arched your back slightly. 

Tingles were getting sent all throughout your body from the kiss, he was being so gentle yet deep. The breath was stolen from your lungs every time he moaned into your moan, and you had the same effect on him, he was restraining himself from pouncing on to you.

The heartbeat in your pussy was so heavy, so prominent as Kakashi deepens the kiss per second, you were afraid that if his t high were to take place against your cunt, he would feel how needy you are, how much you need him to pleasure you. 

And he did exactly what you were hoping for him to not do, and that was to shift his legs, which now, one of them was placed in between your own, pressed against your throbbing heat. A hopeless moan falls past your lips and Kakashi smirks into the kiss. 

"I can feel you, baby," he groans agasint your mouth.

In response, you drag one of your hands down his chest, slowly, feeling every ridge of his chest and abs, of course, Kakashi moans heavily into your mouth. He loved how you touched his body despite the scars that were littered over his pale skin. 

"N-Need you so bad, love," you stutter, your hand dragging across his happy trail, and you could feel his abs flexing agasint your arm before you teased the tip of his erect cock, a moan emitting loudly from him. 

"I know, I know, baby," he replies, pulling his lips from yours before diving into your neck, kissing and sucking your flesh while you slowly pumped his cock, smearing the precum around his tip before moving your hand down his length once more. 

His kisses moved lower, and lower until he was no longer in reach of your hand to his dick and you huffed in disappointment. However, your disappointment vanished when your eyes widened in pleasure when he pried your thighs open wider and gave sucks to your inner thighs before kissing closer to your cunt. 

A kiss to your clit was all that was needed for your hands to entangle with Kakashi's hair. "Kakashi!" you moan, thighs immediately tightening around his head, your legs over his shoulders.

A moan vibrates from Kakashi's mouth, straight into your clit and a whine emits from your lips. "P-Please," you beg quietly. "M-More."

"Mmmmm," he hums against your clit as he moved his mouth from your entrance, the vibrations causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

Arching your back, your cunt only pressed further into Kakashi's face, you just wanted to have your release, you body was aching, aching so much. You could see stars every time he curls his fingers into your sweet spot.

"Kakashi," you whine subtly, you want him inside you so badly.

"I know, baby," Kakashi speaks against your folds, nose bumping against your clit, "Gotta make sure you're all prepped for me, you haven't had me in a while."

"M'know... but please, wanna...." you quietly trail off, embarrassed to say any more.

Kakashi licks a long strip up your cunt, fingers slowly pumping in and out your silky walls. "What, baby? what do you want?" he hums, teasing you, knowing how shy you are and how embarrassed you get.

Every stripe of his tongue on your clit made your body shudder, so much so that you felt as if you were doing to pass out. "Cum, I wanna so bad," you whimper, tears filling your lash line. "Need you... i-in me."

"Alright," Kakashi replies. "Got to give my wife what she needs."

"Please," you say, your whimpers getting louder when he speeds up the pace of his fingers and tongue. 

"Kakashi," you moan out. "Feels so good."

Once more, Kakashi's nose brushes up against your delicate clit, and your grip on his hair tightened. A satisfied sigh seeps through him into your folds as a mewl from your full lips. As he sucked your clit between his lips and flicked your sensitive bud with his tongue, Kakashi was eagerly moving his head in motion to get a full dive into your cunt.

His tongue climbs up from your wet hole to your clit while you let out a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head as a result of his advances, and as you grind down on his face, a moan echoes through your clit.

Your lips were filled with chants of his name, and he relished every moment of it. Kakashi's two fingers inside your cunt began to move once more, you eyes widened, your back further arched into his face, thighs clenching tighter around your head.

"Kakashi, f-feels s' good," you moan, tears spilling past your lash line, he was making you feel so good.

His finger pressed up against that soft spot inside your walls.

"Taking it so well, you're so good f'me," Kakashi moans against you, refusing to rut his hips into the futon, this was your pleasure, not his own, for now. 

A moan arouses from you and your hips grind themselves onto his face. He let you for once have some sort of control over the situation, and he decided that if you came quicker he'll let you do it more often. "That's it," he praised.

You cry his name through broken letters, and he moves more quickly and needily, and the one hold he had on your leg tightens. Your fingers encircled his locks to prevent him from moving and force him to breathe more deeply into your folds as your tummy coil tightened.

The grunts just served to tip you over the brink, and when he pressed his tongue firmly against your clit, you let out a low-pitched scream. Your stomach coil parted, drenching his face in your cum.

With your soaked pussy flowing out from your swollen folds, he carefully withdrew his fingers. You softly mewl in overstimulation and plant a kiss on your clit before lifting his head from your thighs. 

Embarrassed, you cover your face with your hand. "Baby, why are you hiding?" Kakashi hums, pulling your hand from your face and you immediately close your eyes tightly shut, he chuckles. "You're acting like we haven't been together for years."

"C'mon, open your eyes for me," Kakashi asks gently and you do so, his clean hand moving to cradle your face. "There's my pretty wife."

There goes your somewhat composed exterior, now your cheeks flushed an even deeper red. "Hello," you whispered.

A soft laugh leaves his mouth. "You're cute, love. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Kakashi moves off the bed, thinking that you would be too tired to engage in more, he has a hand, he can deal with his own pleasure for now. Just as he was about to pick you up from the bed, you stoped him from doing so, holding his shoulders so he wouldn't move any closer. He frowns in confusion, his mind racing to wonder if you are okay or not. 

"W-Wait," you murmur.

"Yes, dear? What's wrong?" he asks, worried, of course. 

"I want... more," you continue and his eyes widen.

"Are you sure?" Kakashi replies, he was borderline shocked, you were almost never this forward.

You nod your head, lifting your head to meet his dark eyes, "Please," you beg.

"What type of husband would I be to deny you," he says into your ear, pushing your back down to the bed, making sure to be careful with your body, not wanting to cause you discomfort, you and the baby. "I'll be gentle, love."

And just like that, he holds the base of his cock, angling his tip towards your entrance. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Kakashi moan into your neck. "You're so perfect."

"You feel so good," you moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you.

you feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Our moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Kakashi held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Kakashi continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-"

"I'm close-," He groans.

"Me too," you choke out.

you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Kakashi's bare chest causing Kakashi to groan and his arms to wrap tightly around you. After a few more pumps Kakashi came, filling your cunt with cum, letting a few more rolls of his hips into you to help ride out both our highs before he pulled out slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

He walked over to the bathroom with a warm, damp wash cloth to clean you up and after he did so, you did the same. "You're quiet," he murmured.

The sound of his voice on its own made you blush deeply causing your cheeks to burn even further. You bit the bottom lip and pushed your face deeper into his chest and hoped he didn't get to see just how much you were embarrassed as you said, “I-I'm fine.” His hand moved to your chin, softly holding it in place and lifting your face, none of you had a choice but to gaze at each other. "You sure?" He asked. "You sound incredibly..shy." You swallowed, finding it hard to speak as you had a dry throat. "I-" A pause was needed. "I’m just trying to find the words.". Kakashi chuckled softly, the pads of his thumb caressing your red cheek. "You're so adorable when you behave this way," He murmured playfully. “Don't say that,” you uttered, peering at him just to redirect your gaze back to near the wall. He moved closer to you, his lips brushed against the side of your forehead gently. "Why do you act like this, hm?” he questioned. “Tell me everything.” It kept running faster and faster in your chest which made your skin to start to tingle under his fingers. "I just… I don’t know," your voice barely audible. "I can't even. Engage in communication. I just. I get ... It is always hard to Me. To hide my face even in this stupid situation. I don’t get it." "Even now?" He raised his voice, one of them moving aside a lock of your hair away from your face. "After all these years?" You were too eager in answering, "I really couldn't help it," pressed your face into his chest, trying to get at least some distance. "You never have to conceal from me," he told, planting another gentle kiss on the top of your head, "Actually, I don't think you should. There is nothing wrong with that." His head raises your chin up for another kiss down your lips. He hesitates for a second, looking into your eyes with a gentle smile. "It’s just that… I love you so much," you finally find the courage to reply. "And your really handsome, so of course, you make me nervous."

Kakashi's grin softened into a gentle smile as he pulled you closer to his chest, leaning his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he whispered. "And thank you, baby. You're beautiful."

Kakashi’s hand slowly began tracing your belly, thumb travelling across a small area repeatedly. He was so gentle that it amazed you once more, your heart racing a little. Taking a small break, he whispered softly – as he always did, sweet. “I still can’t believe that there is a little something inside,” he said so softly, glaring down at your torso.

“It feels... surreal sometimes,” you whispered.

“I know it’s a little overwhelming,” he said, “but I want you to know that I’ll be here. Every step of the way.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to find your voice. “It’s just... a lot to think about,” you whispered. “But I’m happy. So happy.”

Kakashi smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I know,” he whispered against your skin. “I feel the same way.”

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto m.list

if this flops and gets no notes im actually gonna neck

[winterarmyy]

Promise Me | Part I

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).

P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Italy, 1943 – His return

If there was one thing that Bucky should have expected when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was it would be that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.

He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd; adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.

It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.

A careless misstep – that Bucky could see from a mile away – had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.

Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.

So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.

Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medic volunteers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.

"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was as rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.

No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties and heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.

What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true; as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heroes of the country".

Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.

After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.

Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.

That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"

"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.

The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around,  "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"

There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to." He informed.

"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.

As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve.

"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."

"Maybe he got letters from him?"

"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?

There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the volunteers went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.

As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.

By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.

Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.

When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy; but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.

She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.

The things she'd do for love.

Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area; where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.

The tent turned out to be empty as she suspected. There was only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind.

She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask plastered with the obvious letter of A.

She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn.

A thought passed through her mind; maybe the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.

Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper. The tip scribled up and down, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh, Stevie?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.

Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure to be paraded around the world as the 'symbol of freedom'.

He clearly remembers what he wrote in the letter regarding her wish to volunteer as a medic for the war; practically begging her to not do this and stay home.

But alas, it took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.

Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."

Steve shook his head in disbelief, "I know that." He sighed as a frown deepened across his feature, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this."

In which Y/N countered, "And he remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back; so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.

He let out a long sigh before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."

Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N wanted to take the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"

A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"

Steve nervously distance himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the brunette, "Hi."

The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship to Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's a good friend of mine at home."

A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which she gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."

After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to ask Peggy, "What are you doing here?"

Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."

Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.

Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."

Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"

"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.

Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.

But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."

Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.

When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.

Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."

Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"

Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.

"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.

The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "

And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism; clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.

It was getting harder to breath and the anxiety slowly choked her from within, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.

Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground under her tent. Her elbows were bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.

She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.

Every part of her body was numb and all she hoped for was to have her prayers be answered. And it seems like God heard her whispers of the night.

Like the others, Y/N was drawn to the commotion as the crowd was getter louder. At first she noticed a few, then the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.

But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky; until she saw him.

Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.

It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.

"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.

God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.

"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.

His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a warzone?" His brows quirked as he reminded.

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for the volunteer enlistment, she already knew that. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?

She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."

Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, he had never been more charmed.

Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.

Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises

It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.

Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.

This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each departure always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.

The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.

Instead, Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his tiny apartment.

He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.

Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.

Y/N snuggled closer into him, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."

Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."

Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost

Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.

And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home; laced in the words of his longing and love for her.

But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.

But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the text; unable to make it so she understood what they meant. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.

The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it. 

The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.

Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.

A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.

At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.

Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the cold floor; that was when she wailed – an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.

She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world. 

But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins. 

Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised." 

A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.

Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face of God; not with her usual admiration but instead with so much loath, rage and despair.

The night sky was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war.

And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.

She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.

But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.

Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few months back but for completely different reason.

The crimson of her blood tainted the white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.

Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend

Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.

When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.

At least one more time.

But lo and be hold, he had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.

Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.

This wasn't what she wanted.

She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.

So on the second life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.

It happened again.

And again.

And again.

So, when she reached her sixth life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.

Her sixth life was filled with rage and vengeance; to the point that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.

Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her seventh life, with a new name that was given by her seventh parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her first life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.

Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.

This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.

She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.

Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.

She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so huge and proud on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.

Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.

Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her sixth life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.

The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"

"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.

She knew he was alive. Everybody does.

When the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.

She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot playing on the screen of her computer.

She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.

Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth. Because who would believe her?

She wasn't Steve.

There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.

She was cursed and now she had to live with it.

Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.

The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.

But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N.

She looked like she was in her late teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around her arm.

Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.

How could she say that she's was not Y/N?

Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.

"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."

She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.

The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.

New York, 2018 – New norms

When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.

After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.

You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.

The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her sixth life.

Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.

Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis

Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.

With the skills she picked up on her sixth life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business. Seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.

Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.

After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't help but to think that this must be her calling.

If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.

And bring the old nemesis to the ground.

Her sixth life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.

But, she's grown out of those immaturity.

Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.

The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.

More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.

"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.

"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.

But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.

There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.

The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.

"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.

There it was.

The thing she wanted to hear.

Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"

He fucked up.

He knew that he fucked up.

But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?

By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.

Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.

And she would not allow that to happen.

She needed to destroy it before its finished.

A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."

Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.

She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.

Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset

The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.

Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.

Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.

Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.

What a fucking mess that was.

But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.

That was her priority.

With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.

However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin. 

Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.

While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.

She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the bar table. The was attacker's face turned away from her, she could only see his figure from the back.

Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.

It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.

It was his arm.

A black bionic arm.

Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her sixth life; but his arm was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper side. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡

[mezzy-1]

Hii🤍 Hope you’re having a amazing day!!

Can you do jealousy with Iso please??(can be headcanons or fic)

Thankss💕

Withering Lilac

First time I've really been asked to write something more conflict heavy, and I was ecstatic to add in some angsty Iso. Hope you enjoy the fic/headcanons for Iso being jealous around the reader!

You and Iso hadn’t met before Valorant picked both of you for the protocol.  When you did meet, it was like oil and water

Iso was cool, reserved.  You had a habit of trying to make friends wherever you went.  It was like that for a while until Iso finally let his guard down

Hanging out with the other agents was what finally got him to open up.  Eventually you and him even spent some time together as friends, just on occasion though

Unknown to you, you had left quite an impression on Iso

A few days later, some of the younger agents had gathered for a night out.  Seeing as they could go anywhere, they settled on Barcelona

Clubbing, drinking, and a few minor felonies wrapped up a night of shot fueled fun, and you had began making your way to the hostel with Phoenix and Iso

“Hey, Y/N!” Phoenix leaned off of a street light along the path.  “You ever think about dating?”

Iso halted before you did

“Are you proposing we go on a date Jamie?  I’m open to it, but I’ll need to warm up to it.”

“Well…” he leaned forwards, “How’s this for warm.” he giggled drunkenly

He pulled up his shirt to reveal his abs, running flames over them before flexing his biceps

You moved closer and raised an eyebrow and let the anticipation build

“That was the worst pickup attempt I have ever heard.  You really are drunk!” you laughed with Phoenix.  It was harmless flirting and at most, an attempt that failed

“You’re cute Y/N.  Don’t forget it, yeah?”

“Remind me if I forget Jamie.”

Iso kept quiet, pretending not to notice while a knot tied itself in his stomach

“Why am I feeling like this?  It’s only Phoenix and Y/N flirting a bit.  I know I don’t care, I’ve never cared before so why start?”

The morning brought with it a nasty hangover and more questions than answers, but you had no time for that as you returned to the protocol

While packing, Iso came in to check up on you

“Y/N, you want any help?” he asked.  You shook your head and he rested by the door

“Hey, do you remember walking home with me and Phoenix last night?”

“Uhh…” the memory was hazy, “Sort of.  He said something stupid and we all laughed about it like usual.”

Iso cocked his head, then began to pack his own room up

“They don’t remember, but could they just be saying that?” he muttered to himself

The next couple of weeks Iso put more and more distance between you and Phoenix.  It was subtle, just declining a few events or leaving sooner

You just assumed he had other things.  He mainly just stayed away and cleaned his arsenal while repeating to himself he wasn’t feeling discarded

One day you and him were returning from a mission in Lima, and stopped for food in the Barrio Chino district.  You and him got to gossiping about the other agents 

“I will say, Omen has changed a lot in my eyes from what I expected him to be.  I thought he was without remorse, but I see him try to fit in all the time despite his past.”  Iso’s fondness for Omen was unmistakable when he spoke of him

“He’s been through a lot.  Oh!  Did you see he knitted another hat for Killjoy!  Like it’s way too wide.”

“He made Raze a scarf that was huge too.  The pink, white and orange one.  Phoenix said it looked like she got it at the ‘long bacon store.’  Bad joke, but that’s Phoenix.”  

Iso seemed to stare for a bit before coming back to the conversation

“Did I tell you that Brimstone is having him and I do some undercover work together.  We’re gonna go to New York for a bit and do some investigation!  I’m so excited.”

That knot buried in Iso strained against him, and tore at his inner calm.  Inside he was wincing at a pain he couldn’t understand

“That sounds wonderful Y/N.  How long have you been hanging out together?”

“Phoenix was the first guy to really make me feel accepted at the protocol.  We’ve been close since the first day I was there.”

When the food arrived, the conversation slowed down.  By the time you were flying back to the HQ, the air was practically dead between you and Iso

Before you left for the mission with Phoenix, you had to deal with a spike attack in Sunset

“Iso, wait for Phoenix and I!” you cried over the radio.  He had decided to take on a squad by himself

“I don't want your help or his.” he spat back

When you arrived, he had his back turned to you and was surrounded by bodies.  You went to confront him but he brushed past you, purple hexagons shielding him

About a week later, you had enough of him ignoring you and keeping his distance from everyone and went to his room

Neon lights and charms decorated an otherwise neat room.  Guns stored in racks hung from walls like art installations, and Iso sat at a chair across from you cleaning one

“Why are you here Y/N?”  Iso’s glare felt like an insurmountable fortress

“Because you’ve been acting weird.  You were always quiet but now it’s like you hate being around me!”

“Maybe I do.”

“What did I do?”  You asked desperately.  Iso tried to dismiss it but you drilled until you hit something

“Forget this I’ve got a mission to prep for with Phoenix.”  

Iso flinched

“What you got a problem with Phoenix now too?”

“And if I do?”

“Then it makes you petty and jealous.”

Iso froze.  Suddenly a rush of feelings was untied and lashed out inside of him.  He understood clearly what he had been feeling

“You don’t think I want to be close to you too?  Phoenix can just show up and you start smiling, laughing.  I feel like I wasn’t enough to be with you!”

“Is this about something more than being friends?  You know I like being around you, well I did and then you ended up pulling away.”

“I should have thought about that, Y/N… I- I just couldn’t see that.” 

“Apologize, now.”

“I’m sorry,” he paused to look into your eyes, “I was jealous of him, and wasn’t thinking clearly.  I want to be closer than friends Y/N.” 

“Wait,” you had already registered the apology but the confession took you off guard

“Y/N, I’d like to make it up to you.  Whatever you name, it’s yours and I’ll never do this again.”

You sat in silence, Iso beginning to resign himself to the mistake he had made.  In the end, you forgave him knowing he’d keep his word

“I’ll accept your apology, but I didn’t know you were interested in me.  Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was worried you wouldn’t want to, and that it would make it awkward around everyone.  Not that what I did was any better…”

“True, but now that you know Phoenix and I aren’t a couple, what’s stopping you?  I know now so I’m kind of expecting you to ask me out.”

“You’d still consider it after all I’ve done?”

“Iso, you said you’d do anything.  Take me out then.”

“If it’s what you want Y/N, I can have dinner ready tonight.”

“It’s a date, but don’t you ever start feeling jealous like that again.  For both of us.”

[changenameno]

The Thief (One-Shot)

(Complete)

Summary: You’ve always been quite the troublemaker. And pickpocketing was your favourite pastime. However you hadn’t noticed the bearded man watching you, until it was too late. Whatever will he do with you?

 

Paring: Walter Marshall x Fem. Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, reader is a thief, being caught, cursing, degrading words, abuse of authority, but reader is enthusiastic about it, enthusiastic consent given, rough sex, p in v

Word count: 2.9K

 

A/N: That scenario has been stuck in my head for some time, so I thought I’d put it into writing. As always any mistakes are my own. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Thank you and enjoy!❤️✨

 

 !Neither Walter Marshall nor Nomis are my creation!

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Your fingers felt like they would fall off any second now. It was freezing and still, you had purposefully neglected to wear gloves. Why?

Simple, you were lighter fingered when your hands weren’t encased in any sort of fabric. Though right now you wondered if it had been a mistake, since the feeling in your hands had been gone for about an hour.

 

 

You had underestimated the cold front the weather guy had talked about, especially because it was only October.

 

 

Standing to side of the crowd, you watched possible targets go about their day, buying things on the farmers market. Completely unaware of your eagle eyes, keeping track of, where they put their wallets.

 

 

You knew, it was a bit risky pickpocketing right here, because the police had doubled their efforts, since an awful lot of civilians had reported their stolen money or missing wallets in the past few month. So to placid them, they had promised to update the security in the area.

 

 

Though you hadn’t seen said ‘updated security’, you were aware of the possibility of undercover cops. But that did next to nothing to dissuade you from your weekly shopping spree. Normally you didn’t keep watch that long, but you had hoped maybe the cop would show themselves. Hence the delay.

 

Though they didn’t reveal themselves.

 

 

And you didn’t want to wait much longer to relive someone, of the awful burden of carrying so much money around, because your fingers would truly fall off soon. That’s why your eyes were set on your final target.

 

 

A middle aged woman, whose attire looked so expensive and out of place, you were convinced she had some money to spare.

 

 

Before reconsidering and risk being exposed to the cold any longer, you made your move. Diving into the crowd, carefully trailing the woman with the red handbag, in which you knew her matching red wallet was uncaringly stuffed into, after her last purchase.

 

 

It was nearly too easy, as she stopped again, leaning forward to inspect the goods more closely, making her bag move backwards and an even simpler target for you. She didn’t even notice, how close you’d gotten, let alone when your hand had slipped into her bag, swiftly removing her wallet. As quickly as you could you opened it and removed the money, stuffing it into your coat’s pocket, before putting her wallet back into the handbag.

 

 

To prevent making anyone suspicious, you too leaned over the goods for a few seconds, as if you were inspecting them as well. Next you politely smiled at the vendor and then moved away, slithering through the mass of people. Escaping. Or so you thought.

 

 

You hadn’t even reached the spot from where you had kept watch, when someone rather rudely crashed into you from behind, grabbing your arm. Exasperated at their behaviour you tried to twist around, though it was in vain, with the iron clad grip they had on you, so you just struggled, cursing under your breath, “What the fuck…let me go! This instant!”

 

 

Whoever was behind you, only tightened their grip further, chuckling lowly, “Oh I don’t think so, hon.”

 

 

Still struggling in the hold, you slightly panicked because the man really didn’t let go at all, hissing you threatened him, “Let go you arsehole, or I’ll scream! Then you have to explain yourself to the fucking police!!”

 

 

He didn’t have any difficulty keeping his hold on you, despite you trying to wrestle yourself free. Suddenly he was even closer, sturdy body pressed against yours, as his warm breath tickled your ear, “Aww is that an invitation? Because as a matter of fact, I am the police.”

 

 

You ceased your fighting instantly. Shit. Now you really panicked. What would he do? He most certainly had caught you redhandedly. Your body couldn’t decide if it was overheating or ice cold, switching between the two sensations as if your panicked state wasn’t enough to deal with already.

 

 

“Mmmh, not so feisty anymore, are we now, you little thief?”

 

 

Crap his deep voice and mocking manner, made heated waves roll through your body, apparently it had settled on confused arousal, you cursed quietly.

 

 

“What was that? Cursing at a police officer is just as a serious offense as stealing, you know.”

 

 

You didn’t know what to do, you just went slack in his hold, submitting to the muscled man behind you.

 

 

“That’s what I thought,” he taunted you further.

 

 

At last he set into motion, taking you with him, gliding through the crowd and further to a police car parked in an alley. Only once he’d pushed you into the backseat, slamming the door shut, reality hit you again.

 

 

You had been caught. Now sitting in a police car, probably soon on the way to the nearest precinct. You didn’t even know what would happen next. Could they throw you in prison for this? Would there be a hearing? Damn it, you never had to think about the consequences before…

 

 

The front door opened and he entered, distracting you for a second, as your eyes roved over his form. Great, not only did he have an alluring voice, he also had to be extremely attractive. His clear blue eyes met yours, grinning in triumph, “You have any idea, how much trouble you’ve caused us?”

 

 

You didn’t know what made you so bold, as you cheekily replied, “I’m terribly sorry officer, but I just can’t help myself. Always been a trouble maker.”

 

 

He buckled his seat belt, turning to the front again, shaking his head, mumbling, “Bet you are.”

 

 

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As you finally arrived at the precinct, it was dark outside. Apparently he hadn’t driven to the nearest one. He opened the back door of the car once more. Immediately steel grip on you, pinning your arms uncomfortably behind your back, as he manoeuvred you to the door leading into the police station.

 

 

It was eerily quiet inside. You didn’t see anyone, as you turned your head left and right.

 

 

Then another officer came into view.

 

 

“Ah hey there, Marshall! Finally, was just about to leave.”

 

“Bennet, you know you can’t leave, if no one’s here, right?”, Marshall answered, clearly annoyed by that Bennet guy.

 

 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Sooo, whose that?”, Bennet nodded to you.

 

 

“None of your business. Just go home.”

 

 

Bennet quickly shuffled out of the way, as Marshall and you passed him. You two went around a corner, away from the desks through a never ending corridor. Glaringly white light beaming down on you, making your eyes burn after the prolonged darkness in the car.

 

 

The station was bigger than you thought it’d be, as you turned another corner. Though here he finally stopped, in front of a small cell. You heard the jiggling of the keys, then he unlocked the door, letting go of you and pushing you inside as he entered as well.

 

 

You turned around, suppressing a shiver when he crossed his arms, towering over you.

 

 

“Come here.”

 

 

You ignored his command, shaking your head.

 

 

He sighed, approaching you,” Hon, this is standard procedure. I’ve got to pet you down, make sure you’ve got nothing dangerous on you.”

 

 

You froze, when your back hit the wall. You weren’t afraid. Actually quite the opposite, you were exited at the prospect of this gorgeous man petting you down. Letting his big hands glide up and down your body.

But you were determined to not let, him, know that. And you were convinced if he came any closer he’d know.

 

 

But you were trapped. He came to a stop in front of you. Concerned he’d furrowed his dark brows, “May I?”

 

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 

 

You’d let him do anything, if he looked at you like that. Not trusting your voice you nodded.

 

 

He squatted down, warm hands settling on your calves, slowly moving up. Your eyes widened when you saw the burning desire you felt, mirrored in his ocean ones.

 

 

Not able to conceal your excitement, you automatically widened you stance, as his hands moved beyond your knees. Thumbs stroking over your inner thighs teasingly, making you pant loudly.

 

 

His amusement was crystal clear with the way he smirked up at you, “Already getting exited, you little thief?”

 

 

You whimpered pathetically as his right hand was now dangerously close to your pulsing centre. Closing your eyes in anticipation, your breath hitched in surprise, when he’d suddenly stood up. Bearded face in front of yours, making your eyes fly open again.

 

 

He cupped your chin, tilting your head back a little, whispering, “Are you sure, you want this?”

 

 

“Yes,” you breathed back.

 

 

“I need you to be absolutely sure you want this just as much as I want this.” Blue eyes serious and flitting between yours.

 

 

You were touched by his gentleness, and quite relieved he made sure, you were on board with this. To wipe any doubts from his mind, you pressed your lips against his. Starting to kiss him fiercely.

 

 

He was a bit taken aback by your initiative, but only for a second, before he moved against your soft lips. His pink tongue begging for entrance, which you immediately granted. Deepening the kiss. When you pulled away, both of you panted, taking in the much needed oxygen.

 

 

He’d leaned his forehand against yours, growling softly when your swift fingers started to unbuckle his belt. Not able to hold back, you let them slide into his boxers, gasping when you felt how big he was. You couldn’t even close your hand around his shaft, though you began pumping him anyway, making his hips buck forward.

 

 

“Fu-uck, you’re really good with your hands aren’t you, hon?”

 

 

“What can I say, if I see something I like, I need to have it, Mr. Marshall.”

 

 

All the while your hand had moved back and forth on his hard rod, freeing him, as you’d pushed his pants and boxers down to his meaty thighs. It made him grunt loudly. His hands curling around your hips, then advancing toward the fly of your jeans, pulling your sipper down.

 

 

“Let’s see how wet you are for me, honey.”

 

 

And sure enough two long fingers dipped into your panties, feeling around your dripping walls, until he found your wet centre and plunged into your pussy.

 

 

Moaning wantonly you nearly let go of his cock, when his perfect fingers curled and pressed into your sweet spot.

 

“Argh, yeah right there.”

 

 

“Thought so, you’re clenching around me like crazy. Can’t wait to feel your tight, little snatch around my cock.”

 

 

You tried to reciprocate, moving your hand up and down, but it was impossible with the way his fingers sped up, carefully scissoring you open.

 

 

But he didn’t seem to care, enjoying how loud he could make you moan for him. As he pulled his fingers out, you mewled, unhappy at the sudden emptiness.

 

 

He cooed,” Aww darling don’t worry you’ll feel full again in a second.”

 

 

With that he pulled down your jeans and panties, only than noticing that he couldn’t remove them completely, because of your boots. Huffing annoyed, he didn’t even wait to pull off the boots. Instead he hauled you onto the small bed in the corner, lifting your legs and pushing your ankles down beside your head.

 

 

The new position had exposed you so entirely that you whimpered in embarrassment. He didn’t care though, burning gaze fixed on our soaking wet pussy, unconsciously liking over his lips, at the mouth-watering sight of you spread out, below him.

 

 

He quickly reached for his painfully throbbing cock, wanting nothing more than to bury it in your tight cavern. He rubbed the head between your sopping folds, collecting your juices to make the entrance smoother.

 

 

“You ready?”

 

 

Your nod was all he needed, as he began pushing against your hole. Slowly spreading you around his fat cockhead, before pushing further and further inside. Your breathing was shallow, as the monstrosity entered you.

 

 

“So biiig…”

 

 

He had the audacity to laugh, “Well hon, you said you needed to have the things you liked. And I’m simply giving them to you, aren’t I?”

 

 

Just then he finally bottomed out, making you whimper and him moan lowly.

His large firm hands rested on your calves, making sure they and you would stay in the position he’d put you in. Panting he smiled down at you, “So pretty for me. Have to start moving, your cunt is to fucking tight.”

 

 

Blazing blue eyes focused on your slit engulfing his cock, as he agonizingly slow moved back. He grunted when he pushed his hips forward, forcing his entire length back inside. Stretching your cunt, filling your body thoroughly once more.

 

 

“Quicker. Please M-Mr. Marshall, need more…”

 

 

He groaned, “Such a needy thing. But I expected nothing less off a little thief.”

 

 

You wanted to curse at him, but all that left you was another mewl, as he continued his slow, slow pace.

 

 

“Maybe if you beg again, honey. But this time, address me as Walter. After all I’m not your boss.”

 

 

Fully sheathed inside you, it was extremely hard to string together any sentence, but you tired your best, as you needed him to pick up his pace.

 

 

“Pl-please Walter… quicker, harder. Fuck me as hard as you can…please.”

 

 

“What a dangerous thing to say, honey. But your wish is my command,” he winked at you.

 

 

Walter finally pulled back, delivering a hard and heavy thrust, making you cry out, at the shocking wave of pleasure wracking your body.

 

 

Your fingers dug into the mattress, holding on for dear life, as he began hammering away. Rutting into you so violently, he smacked against your clit with ever thrust. Pulling a blinding, toe-curling orgasm from you.

 

 

He’d stopped moving for a bit, grinding his hips into yours, prolonging your orgasm. Walter made a low guttural sound, before picking up his pace once more.

 

 

Yelping as he ploughed away at your weeping pussy, he kept your legs pressed against your chest.

 

 

“Not nearly done with you yet, honey,” he panted.

 

 

One moan after the other was pulled from your lungs as your poor cunt didn’t have any time to recover and was just thrown into immediate pleasure again, as his massive cock made its way in and out of your body.

 

 

“Hnnm…pl-please. Wa-alter,” you squeaked.

 

 

 

Walter growled and picked up the pace even more. He pulled out completely, before driving home with every single thrust.

 

 

“Cl-close. I’m so close, honey.”

 

 

He kept slamming into your body, as you egged him on, “Yeah… please fill me up, Walter!!”

 

 

That’s what tipped him over the edge, taking you with him as your second orgasm was pulled from your exhausted body, feeling his seed entering you. Cock pulsing inside you, as a last deep moan left his lips.

 

 

Then he stilled, locking eyes with you, “Fuck… that was amazing, hon.”

 

 

Blinking up at him, you smiled, sighing when he slipped out, warm dripples of his and your residue running down. Walter let go of your legs. Wanting to protest as he pulled your panties and jeans back up, even though you were still dripping his cum.

 

 

He hushed you, “Ah, ah, ah. A little punishment is due don’t you think? Keeping my seed inside till you’re home is the least you could do, when I let you off with a warning, isn’t it, you little thief?”

 

 

You nodded, smirking at his decision, while he buckled his belt.

Then he added,” Though you obviously have to give me the money.”

 

 

Damn it, you had hoped he’d forgotten about that. But his outstretched hand said otherwise, so you pulled the money from your coat pocked and handed it over disgruntledly.

 

 

“That’s a good girl. Thank you,” he teased as he put it into his back pocket.

 

 

He turned around, opening the cell and letting you out, leading you back through the corridor you had come from with his hand touching your lower back.

 

 

When you arrived at the front room of the precinct it was completely deserted. He surprised you with the searing kiss he bestowed upon your lips.

When Walter pulled back, his blue eyes seemed to sparkle, “I really enjoyed that. All of it. Maybe next time, you’ll be here, it’s not because you committed a crime, yeah?”

 

 

“Can’t make any promises, but I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

 

 

Then you slipped out the door, vanishing into the night, but not without releasing a gleeful laugh as your fist closed around the money in victory.

 

Unbeknownst to Walter, you had stolen it right back during the kiss.

 

 

The minute you were gone he had noticed the missing money, roaring, “Fuck! You little minx! Get back here!!” Running out the door himself.

 

 

Walter could have sworn he heard you giggle in the distance, as he set out to chase after you.

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[readychilledwine]

Flight Patterns - pt 3

Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings - none in my mind

A/N - answering a question a few people had in this one while also sending a warning. 👀

Word count - *polished nails* 4,254

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

3 weeks later-

Aerilyn was biting her tongue as Rhys showed her the sentences he wanted her to work on pronouncing. He looked so satisfied and smug, handing her the parchment that simply stated,

"Rhysand is the most intelligent High Lord."

"Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord."

"Rhysand is the most powerful High Lord." 

The dam that was her patience with holding this uneducated act up was breaking. She had spent the past 3 weeks training with them, eating with them, and being forced to endure this. Complimenting the beautiful, cruel, kind, everything male in front of her while he did paperwork. She had noted during these quiet moments between them, each affirmation she gave him caused tension to leave his brow, his shoulders to relax. She was, in his mind, an unknowing voice setting aside each deep set fear he had. 

And Aerilyn was tired of that. No matter how much she agreed with each sentence proclaiming his delightful nature deep down in her soul.

She leaned back into her chair, clicking her tongue and caved. "You are quite full of yourself, aren't you?" Rhysand paused, looking up at her from his reports with wide eyes. "Do not get me wrong, you are exquisite and the Mother definitely took her time carving you out of whatever fine marble she found, but have you looked at Helion?"

His jaw dropped before he school his reaction and sat back. "So you can speak."

"Clearly," she answered dryly. 

"How long did you plan on playing this little game of yours, Aerilyn?" He leaned his forearms on the table in front of him. "How long did you plan on being a pretty little liar?"

She leaned forward, facing his challenge and staring at him to eye level. "Until you three were dumb enough to leave me alone and we could get out, but that's clearly pointless when you are the most intelligent high lord, isn’t it?" She sensed something from him, pouring into that string that connected them. She could not tell if it was pride, arousal, or a combination of both, but it made her lip curl in what she lied to herself as being annoyance. 

He purred to her, "You are a smart little thing, aren't you, darling?" 

Aerilyn growled in response.  "Do not condescend me." 

Rhys kept a straight face to hide the absolute lust and need he was feeling. "I am not condescending you, darling. I genuinely mean that. You are both little and intelligent." 

Rhys moved closer to her, caging her between the sidearm of the couch and himself. “Won't dear Azriel be oh so surprised the female he's been making notes for me on can speak? Or your brother, Cassian, oh so thrilled he can actually communicate with you, tell you every damned word that's been eating him alive for over a month now?”

She looked away, guilt showing in her eyes as the floor. “Or your mate,” he spoke softer this time, gently forcing her to look at him. “Who wanted nothing more than to get to know you, to learn how to care for you, to learn how you'd like to be loved? how do you think this secret of yours makes him feel?” 

Aerilyn didn't understand the weight of his words. Nor what a mate was. He used terms of endearment for her frequently she never understood. “My mate,” “my stars,” “mine,”  or constantly calling her “Aerilyn Darling,” as if he was taking some weird ownership of her.

And deep down it had started to set a soft warmth in her heart. “I do not know what this mate term you use means, but you'll have to forgive a female for thinking of survival, not of the comfort of 3 males.”

His face fell then, eyes losing all sparkle as if someone had turned off the night sky. Aerilyn felt sick inside at the sight of it. “You do not know what mates are?” she nodded in confirmation and watched as he moved away from her, shaking off the disappointment radiating from him before moving forward. “Would you like to tell them? Or shall I?”

Aerilyn swallowed, her mind racing. “I will.”

“Good answer.” He stood, leaving her alone in the library.

Aerilyn took the report he had left, curling into the arm of the couch and running through it. He eyes moved the the stack he had left then, noting how each was just messily thrown into the pile. She began sorting them then. Reports from the Camps and Steepes in one time, reports from Azriel in another, reports from Cassian in one. She had them by date, urgency, context. It wasn't much, but it was a small apology as a shadow came and rested on her shoulder announcing it's master's approach.

Azriel stares at the sorted reports, a brow going up. “Did you do this for him?”

Aerilyn closed her eyes. He was expecting a nod and got this instead. “I did. He's ridiculously unorganized.”

Azriel took the chair across from her, a small smirk playing on his face. “You just won me a lot of money.”

Aerilyn looked at him, her brows knitted together. There was not a ounce of anger in the male, nor sign of hurt. Just a small playful smile. “You aren't mad?”

He shook his head. “We all knew. Rhys has been purposely picking large eloquent words since you accidently called Cassian a vacuous prideful jerk for body slamming you when you were beating him hand to hand. The three of us had bets on when you'd drop the act.”

He paused a shadow whispering something to him before continuing. “You held up the feral gremlin act well, though. Destroying the kitchen was my personal favorite scene. We are still finding sugar in places it should not be.”

He leaned forward, eyes on you. “Now little sister,” a line drawn in the sand softly, “can you tell me when your mate is beating training dummies so-” he trailed off watching your face before leaning back with his answer. “You don't know what mates are, do you? Your face says the things your mouth won't. It was part of how I've figured out the act.”

She made another slightly insulted face, one that made Azriel chuckle, a rare full smile appearing. “Cassian does the same thing, sweetness. Don't worry. Now the topic at hand, the mating bond is a sacred thing. It's rare and typically only given to the most powerful of fae. It's supposed to bring you to your other half, your equal, your one true fae. It allows you to feel each other, to know each other on a deeper level, and to communicate without words.” 

He had a dreamy far off look as he glanced out the window at the stars. “I've wished for one every year at Starfall, solstice, and with every birthday candle.”

“That's a lot of candles,” Aerilyn interrupted before shooting her hand to her mouth. Azriel's brows rose up to his hairline, “Cauldron, you and Cassian even have the same sense of humor. Fuck me,” he chuckled again, the noise ringing like a soft bell in her ears. “Anyways, mating bonds are created by the Mother and Cauldron to ensure strong off spring, but Rhys, Cassian, and I always wanted more for our mates. We want to love them, fully and completely. We want them to truly be our equals, hence him having you sit with him while he does his high lord work. We want them to know we support them and want them to feel they matter. That they are more than prized mares to be bred, also hence me keeping track of things that make you happy, sad, foods you enjoy.”

Azriel took her hand. “Rhys wants you to feel warm, welcome, wanted, and loved here, and you are sweetness. I need to go before he breaks his knuckles. Dinner will be in 30 minutes.” 

Aerilyn went to her room, sitting on her bed as she processed the information Azriel had handed her on a silver platter. She played with that string softly, wrapping it around her finger once, then twice. She knew it would not be hard to love him, nor to be loved by him. Rhys had shown her nothing but kindness since the incident with Enlil. He had even offered to fly her to them tomorrow, an offer she hoped still stood after feeling his broken spirits cloud her mind and soul. 

Rhys sat still on the training grounds, Cassian and Azriel next to him. He could feel each slight twitch, stroke, and caress of the bond, causing his heart ache to set into dread more and more. “She knows about the tether,” he said softly. “Which means she unknowingly has been pulling it since she didn't know what it was.”

Cassian ran a hand up and down his brother's back. “She wasn't raised with mom like we were, Rhys. She was left to survive alone, to educate herself among who knows what level or type of fae, and kept away from society. Her knowing about the bond and how they work would have been surprising.” They both watched as Azriel rocked on his feet and made a straight lined face. “Azriel, you didn't.” 

 “She was confused,” he justified. “I couldn't leave her like that. Just sitting there, confused and hurt, sorting through your mountain of reports.”

Rhys almost comically perked up, his eyes reignited with the affection he already held for his mate. “She sorted my reports?”

Aerilyn was silent at dinner, pushing her potatoes around the plate while the three males spoke. Cassian was the last to find out she could speak to and understand them. He had not been mad, he was thrilled in all honesty. Picking her up and spinning her as he cried tears of joy. Aerilyn rested her head on his shoulder, smiling as he kissed her forehead. “Not hungry, sis?”

She shrugged softly, “Tired. And I hate potatoes. It was the one thing I could steal from camps that they didn't notice so we ate just potatoes for months once.”

Cassian felt his stomach dropping. He knew that feeling all too well. The wondering when your next meal would could. The pain from portioning servings meant to be one meal into multiple. It killed him inside knowing his sister had gone through that just outside of their reach. 

He reached over, grabbing another piece of grilled chicken and setting it on her plate. Rhys pushed him the mixed steamed vegetables, She wants these. He took her potatoes, scapping them onto his own plate before loading the steamed broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower onto her plate. She'd also like to try wine, but is scared.

So give her a little wine, Cassian suggested back. Show her you've noticed.

Rhys studied his mate, noting her typical food choices and likes as he made a choice. He stood, going to the bar where several open bottles sat away from the brothers, preventing them from drinking heavily and getting too drunk when they were set to visit drakes the next day. 

His hand lingered on the Day Court white, giving her less than half a pour, and walking it to her. “I think you will like this one. If you don't, it's Azriel's favorite.” 

Azriel looked longingly at the bottle. “You could just bring it here.”

“We promised her an early morning flight to her bond,” Rhys sat cooly, watching as she sniffed the wine. “We need to be on our toes and clear minded for that.”

Aerilyn paused. “We're still going?”

“Of course, darling, I made you a promise.” 

Aerilyn was to her feet immediately, going over to Rhys and tilting his head slightly to kiss a stumbled cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, my darling. Now eat. I know you want the broccoli.”

Rhys shot awake in the middle of the night, panic that wasn't his own flooding him. It had become a constant now that she was here, now that after years of searching and unanswered prayers to the Mother he had found her. Rhys stood up pulling on a pair of sweatpants before walking to her room. 

Azriel telling her about what the bond did had benefits, and this was one. He didn't have to continue ignoring her fear, her nightmares, her wakeless dreams. He entered her room to find her still asleep, tossing and turning and sat on her bed beside her, entering her mind to calm her. His hand moved through her tangled hair, gently pulling each catch apart before he caved, laying beside her and holding her as she fell into a deeper sleep. She turned in his arms, head burying itself into his chest as he continued to play with her hair. 

He might regret it in the morning, but Rhys fell asleep there, in her room, holding her safely in his arms. 

Aerilyn ran a hand along her sheets, eyes still closed as she reached for a body that wasn't there. She sat up, disappointment settling in like a cold ache. He was there, she knew he was there. His scent still lingered to the soft fabrics, to her skin. 

She shoved that feeling down. Ignoring it like she had all other draws to him. 

The draw to be near him.

The need to be held by him.

The need to please him.

Aerilyn wasn't a stranger to love, nor courtship. She had grown up among married pairs, always the odd ball out. She had watched illyrian males woo and sweet talk females into their beds as she sat in the woods. 

But nothing ever seemed like this. Nothing she had witnessed was this. This weird fated and decided thing she had no control over. 

This weird fated and decided thing eventually only handed to powerful and special fae.

There was nothing special about Aerilyn. That was something she knew from staring at herself in the mirror and strapping on the black illyrian leathers. She wasn't a great beauty like Mor, wasn't intelligent like Cassian, wasn't useful like Azriel, nor did she have some hidden beast buried below her skin like Amren. 

Aerilyn believed she just was. Without dragons she'd just be a wingless Illyrian female. She had no powers, no influence, no stunning looks to brag about. How could she be worthy or equal to him? 

A knock ripped her from her thoughts, Cassian entering the room and walking behind her to help her finish getting everything on. “Good morning,” he kissed her head gingerly. “How are you this morning?” He already knew. Rhys had sent him in to stop her from the mental spiral she was about to enter. He stared at her through the mirror, admiring every little thing she couldn't see about herself.

Those bright hazel eyes shining like molten honey over the most expensive cuts of emeralds. Those high sharp cheekbones, rosy and glowing more than they had when they had found her hungry and thin in those woods. Her sun-kissed clear skin. Her small nose. Her full lips.

Cassian's absolute favorite feature on his sister was her long dark hair, falling down her back like a waterfall of curls. 

She had not answered him, forcing him to hold her jaw in his hands and look at him. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He didn't let her see his heart shatter as she looked down. “Aerilyn, surely you see how beautiful you are?” it was impossible to ignore her fingers beginning to tap on her thighs, pounding a soft rhythm into that muscled flesh as they stared at each other in the mirror.

Cassian was handsome, Aerilyn could admit that. Her brother was rugged, scarred, and his body was solid muscle carved from stone. He'd brought many females home in the month she'd been here, and she wasn't dumb enough to not see why. He was charming, handsome, smart, funny, important. 

She looked at them both again. “I suppose if you're slightly attractive, I am too?”

Cassian's head fell into her shoulder, his own shaking in laughter. “Slightly attractive? Only slightly. I think you're stunning. Exactly like Mother. And you think I'm okay looking?” 

Aerilyn smiled up at him. “Can't stroke your ego.” Cassian smiled in her hair again, puffs of air coming out as he chuckled. “Are we eating breakfast?”

“I never do anything without breakfast.” Cassian laced their fingers together, pulling her into the hallway and down the stairs. 

Azriel was at the table, head in his hands, coffee at his side. Rhys patted his shoulder. “Told you not to drink it all, Brother.” Azriel grunted at him in return. “I know. Days off.” He grunted again making Rhys and Cassian laugh. 

It was like an unspoken language between the 3 of them, and it made Aerilyn smile. Aerilyn scratched Azriel's head, taking the spot between him and the High lord. “You don't have to come,” her offer was in a soothing tone. “I don't want to burden you on your time off.”

Comfortable silence fell between the 4 of them. “You could never burden any of us,” Rhys answered plainly. “But she is correct, Azriel. You can stay home. Get some well deserved rest.” He shook his head back to grunting as he rested his forehead on the table. “He'll nap while you eat, Ari.” 

Cassian passed her the plate of something she had never seen, watching as he head tilted. “Pancakes. Kind of sweet. Kind of not.” 

“Oooooor muffin?” Aerilyn batted her eyelashes unsure of the new food being put in front of her. “We know I like muffin.”

Azriel lifted his head. “I didn't not slave away on fucking pancakes for you to ignore them like they're chopped liver.” 

“Yes,” Cassian said plainly. “I'm sure those 30 extra minutes were detrimental to your sleep pattern.”

“Oh fuck you.” Azriel slapped a pancake on her plate. “Eat it or you run laps all day.”

Aerilyn cuddled up to Rhysand tightly as they flew. Her nails almost digging painfully into his biceps and shoulders. “You would think this would not bother you so much considering you fly on dragon back.” Aerilyn tried to relax, she truly did. But she ended up holding him tighter as the wind switched. 

“It's different,” she squeaked out. “So very different.” He just hummed in response, allowing her to hold him as tight as she needed.

Rhysand looked down, slightly saddened by the view she was missing. “I suppose the views from them are also different. Having to be so far away and unable to admire anything.” She refused to move, barely attempting to peek before tucking herself back into his neck. “I will never drop you, darling.” 

“Not the worry,” she answered hastily. “Look up.” A great shadow passed over them, covering the area between himself and Ari as well as the several feet ahead of them where Cassian and Azriel flew. 

This dragon was larger than the other 3 they had seen so far. Almost swallowing the sun in black and darkness. 

Azriel and Cassian had stopped their race, hovering in amazement as the beast headed to the entrance and shook the mountain with the force of the landing. “That is one big fucker.” Cassian blinked as the words left his mouth, astonishment settling in. “Who flew him?”

“Her,” Aerilyn corrected softly. “That's a female, and it doesn't matter who flew her. She'll never take another rider.” The males went back into motion, the powerful beating of their wings distracting Aerilyn until they landed and she was gently set down. 

Eirwen had waited, her white scales glimmering like fresh fallen snow as she lowered her head for a pat. “Hello love,” Ari kissed her snoot gently. “Can we come in?” 

The drake seemed to huff, releasing a chattering like noise as she led them into the pit. She moved to the area she had clearly claimed, setting down her newest treasure into her hoard. Azriel chuckled slightly as he took the pile in. The white beast began to rearrange the fabric, placing it into the pile of silks, furs, and cloth. She seemed to almost tuck herself in before making it snow above her and releasing a happy sigh. “That is Eirwen,” Aerilyn said softly. “She is an ice drake. She hoards fabric for blankets.” 

“Winter,” Azriel muttered softly to Rhysand.

Cassian covered his mouth before moving in further and slowly. His eyes ended up locking on the blue dragon. It's scales almost dancing as they reflected the light. “Thalassa,” Aerilyn moved to the dragon, kissing her nose as well. “Hoards shells and parts of ships. Has control over water and oceanic creatures.” 

“Summer,” the spymaster muttered again.

Cassian pointed to Hestia who purred at him. “She is wondering if you brought her a gift.” Ari patted the red dragon's snoot. “She can detect a lovely collection near by but won't go pillage your home for it.”

Cassian burst out laughing. “She's probably detecting Amren. The two of them should trade notes sometime.” Hestia seemed to tilt her head as if she understood him. 

Enlil growled softly. Annoyed his bond had not came to him yet and Aerilyn immediately moved as Azriel muttered “Autumn.” Enlil was surrounded by lively floral and plants in pots. His eyes closed as Aerilyn held him, glowing as they made contact. “Enlil hoards plants,” she said happily. “Herbs, tropical things, flowers. If he thinks it's pretty, he takes it.” Rhys couldn't help but to break a smile, hearing the male dragon's whines and chirps of content as his Aerilyn loved him. “I have to finish introducing everyone. I'll be right back.”

Azriel had already moved to the next dragon, his eyes wide as he took him in. “Eros,” she said without even needing to be asked. “Controls light. Collects rare and exotics weapons. And no. He will not trade.” 

Azriel sighed softly. “So I can't convince him to give me that sword,” he pointed towards the curved Peregryn blade made from Illyrian steel. One all three males knee. “Can you tell me how he got that.” 

Aerilyn rested her head on his, stroking those golden and pink iridescent scales. 

They watched in shock as her eyes went blue, and the dragon's did as well. “On a battlefield after the war against Hybern,” the dragon said. A voice like smooth deep chocolate coming from him. “I will trade it for the dagger you carry. But nothing else.”

Aerilyn released the magic she was so used to, turning to Azriel and making a face as the drake licked up her face. “No deal. I'll find something else he may like, though.”

“Dawn,” Cassian whispered to Rhys. 

Another golden beast sat in the next area, significantly smaller than the rest, but radiating power they had not felt yet. Azriel and Cassian's siphons began to dim as they were drained. This dragon was surrounded by ancient texts and crystals. “Hekate,” Aerilyn marked and shut the book the dragon was reading gently, allowing her to rest fully onto her claws. “She hoards books and crystals. She drains magic to use it for herself. Your siphons are easy targets. It's part of why she loved Illyria and why we remained so well hidden.” 

“Day,” Rhysand said plainly as he moved to the last dragon. The beast immediately raised it's head, confirming the suspicions the three of them had. The black scaled beasts scales lit up, radiating like Starfall. “Which means this is a poison dragon, commonly found in the Night Court. What does he hoard?”

“Starlight,” Aerilyn moved between Achlys and Rhysand, protecting her second favorite dragon from the High Lord he was born to serve. “And souls.” Achlys Say up, towering over Aerilyn as he looked down upon the males in front of him. 

Rhys rose his chin to the challenge. “They used to call these dragons the world eaters.”

Aerilyn looked at Rhys, glaring slightly, “They used to call them many things.” 

Rhys nodded and raised a hand to the dragon, allowing it to sniff him before patting its scaled nose. “I have no worries, Aerilyn Darling. I would like to see each drake's powers sometime, though.” Rhysand offered her his arm, moving her back to Enlil as Cassian and Azriel left the pit to discuss the potential they were sitting on. “There's a female in Pryithian,” Rhysand began. “One who stood at Hybern's side as their general and is now claiming to be an emissary. I have no plans on exposing you all to her, but I'd like to know the advantage I have. Just in case.”

Ari felt her hazel eyes widened in shock. “In case of war?” Rhysand nodded, kissing her knuckles and kneeling down in front of where she sat on her mounts clawed paw. “Rhys-”

He gave her a soft look, “Not for my benefit, my mate. For the safety of these lands, our home, them, you. I need to know before Amarantha pulls something. And I need to know they are able to protect you.” 

Taglist : @kemillyfreitas @jesssicapaniagua @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @sidthedollface2

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 25

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“How was coffee with Tori?” Dr. Miller asked when I walked into the living room where he sat in sweatpants with a bottle of champagne and two glasses in front of him.

I looked down at the set up and he grinned at me from behind a pair of glasses. “What’s this?” I asked.

Dr. Miller rose to his feet and approached where I stood. “I thought we could have a drink to celebrate you moving in here.”

I smiled at him and then let it fade.

“You’re having second thoughts,” He suspected.

“No.” I truly wasn’t. Even after bumping into Christine. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ruin this. I just..”

Dr. Miller had his hands on his hips. His eyes were locked on mine. “You can tell me if it’s too soon.”

“I bumped into your ex,” I blurted out, “Christine. I scooted into LL Bean next to the coffee shop and she called out my name and approached me.”

“Well, that’s great. I’m sure she had some colorful things to say about me.” Dr. Miller shook his head and looked down. He ran a hand across his beard and sighed.

“She said she left you because of your secrets,” I went on.

“She left me?” He smirked but let it fade.

“It’s in the past, I don’t care who left who. She just kept mentioning your secrets and told me she wanted to warn me.” I held his stare, “And then I went to the ATM and I have over fifty thousand dollars in there. I had six the other day.”

“I put money in your account,” Dr. Miller admitted, “And I paid your rent so your friend wouldn’t feel stuck.. And so you wouldn’t feel bad about moving in here.”

“Why did you put that money in my account?”

“Because I have it,” Dr. Miller said simply. “And I want you to be financially.. comfortable.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

He wandered back to the couch and sat down, looking like the wind had been taken out of him. “I probably shouldn’t have.”

“I sound ungrateful,” I said aloud, taking a deep breath and trying to take a deep breath.

“You’re overwhelmed by the whole thing,” Dr. Miller corrected, “And I don’t blame you.I asked you to move in. I padded your bank account. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

I opened my mouth to speak and then stopped myself because I didn’t know what to say. There was a drawn out pause and neither of us spoke for what felt like ten seconds.

“What if we take a step back?” Dr. Miller asked. “Slow this down a bit.” He glanced at the empty champagne glasses. “It’ll give us both time to think.. reevaluate.”

I didn’t want to reevaluate. “Dr. Miller.” I shook my head.

“I do have secrets,” he admitted. “I have secrets.” Dr. Miller nodded to himself and looked down, folding his hands together as he leaned forward. “Since I’ve met you my whole mission has been to protect you.. and to make it impossible for you to want to leave me because for the first time in my life I'm finding myself falling in love.. with you.” He added, “But, I would never try to force you to stay. If it’s too much, it’s too much. If you get tired of this relationship, then you get tired of it. I can’t make you stay.. but I’m trying my damnedest to try to keep you.”

Again, I opened my mouth to speak but I was speechless. It had become downright impossible to maintain one emotion; one thought process. I wanted to cry and fall into his arms, but I also wanted to know why the hell Christine would go out of her way to issue me a warning.

“I’m falling for you, too,” I told him. I didn’t have to convince myself of that. “You’re honestly all I ever think about and I’m scared of how fast I’m falling for you.”

“That’s why you should take a break from this for a few days,” Dr. Miller said, making me nearly choke on my next set of words. “Get some space, think clearly.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” The thought was too much. I would feel a certain level of devastation if this was just suddenly over right when I thought it was getting started; right when we were on the cusp of moving to the next phase of our relationship - regardless of the damn timeline of it.

“No.” He said right away, rising to his feet. Dr. Miller paced the room and immediately pulled me into a hug. He held me firmly against him for a long moment and sighed. “I just feel like I’m rushing you; like I’m rushing this. And it’s pushing you away. I don’t want to do that.” When he pulled back so we were face to face I felt like crying, but I didn’t.

I nodded, but I didn’t want to do what he was suggesting. I knew once I walked out of that house and left the gates that I would start to sob. All of this would get the best of me and I’d spend the night contemplating every little facet of my life. I’d get no sleep. I’d have bags under my eyes. I’d wake up on a Saturday with absolutely nothing to do and not enough courage to call Dr. Miller. And all of my questions would fester in my brain until they took over completely. In other words, I’d be a mess.

“If you don’t want the money, you can wire it back to my account,” he added. “I’m sorry.” He put a hand on my face. “Clear your head. Think this through.”

“And then what?” I asked softly, looking into his solemn eyes. I knew mine mirrored his.

“You know the code,” Dr. Miller reminded me, “You have a key. Nothing will be stopping you from coming back.”

I continued to look up at him before eying the glasses of champagne. My eyes then met his again and I kissed him once on the lips. He never closed his eyes. Neither did I. This wasn’t what this night was supposed to be. Dr. Miller had planned a celebration but I just had to run into his ex-wife and let her get into my head. And then I go and complain about fifty thousand dollars being in my bank account.

You weren’t complaining, I reminded myself. You were asking a very valid, important question. One which he answered right away. Who am I to let Christine rain on our parade? Who was I to make Dr. Miller feel like a bad guy because of his ex’s words?

He looked down and locked his fingers through mine. Dr. Miller began walking me toward the front door and I felt the lump develop in my throat. My stomach knotted for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t want to go. My Prince Charming was giving me the world and I was in the process of denying it - or at least thinking about denying it.

Why? I asked myself. Because of some woman? Who’s to say she isn’t lying to get back at him? Or because she still loves him?

I didn’t immediately reach for the door knob, but I knew this was Dr. Miller’s suggestion and so I tried to respect that. I opened the door and let out a deep sigh as I did.

The cold air might as well have slapped me across the face and Dr. Miller leaned an arm on the door frame.

“Be careful.” He looked at me intently. “I’ll get you to your car. Call me when you get home.”

Home. Wasn’t this home? It was supposed to be home. Dr. Miller had referred to this as ‘home’ so many times in reference to both of us. It was like a dagger through the heart.

“Okay.” I gave a nod.

“Come back any time. You don’t even have to call,” he added, “But I’d prefer if you did.”

I swallowed hard, not at all having the words to say to him.

Dr. MIller trailed me out to my Mazda, barefoot on the frozen ground. I was freezing so I was sure he was but he didn’t show it. When I got to my car I was hoping he would ask me to stay, or pull me to him and kiss me hard. It was all I would need to make all of these melancholy feelings disappear. But he didn’t. He played fair - and I didn’t like it.

“I’ll call you soon,” I told him, looking up into his big brown eyes as I slunk in behind the wheel.

He tipped his mouth up in a half-smile and then it faded. “Please be careful.”

“I will.”

When my legs were tucked inside the vehicle, he gently closed the door and I started the engine. Even though he said we weren’t, I felt like if I left right then that it could be the end of it - all of it. My dreamlife, the one that literally fell into my lap, could all just go away. And, technically, nothing bad had happened between us. Things had been great. Really great. The only problem I could see was that we were both falling extremely fast for one another - and perhaps it was causing us both to act irrationally.

Should I have been seeing my older professor? Probably not. Should he have put fifty grand into my bank? Probably not. Should I have been so painfully willing to move in with him after only being with him for a month? Probably not.

I glanced in my rearview mirror as I began to pull away and saw him standing there, watching me go. When he finally turned away and walked back into the house, I let out a sob for the first time.

Did it matter what pace we decided to take in our relationship? No. Was it anyone else’s business? No. Should social norms of what was expected out of a relationship and how fast they were “supposed” to move affect what I felt was right in my relationship? No. And, perhaps the most impactful of all, should an ex’s influence stop you from following your heart? Hell no.

I knew what I wanted. And I decided I was just as crazy as Dr. Miller was. I was crazy about him, about us and about what the future could bring. I could deal with whatever layers he peeled back about himself as we grew together. All I knew for certain, right then, was that I didn’t want to go.

Dr. Miller had said I could come back any time. And so I hit the break and turned the car around before I got down to the gates. I hurried back up toward the house, parking the car where I’d originally left it and ran up to the front door as fast as I could.

I didn’t know whether to burst in or knock, and so I just started pounding with both fists until the door swung open.

Dr. Miller stood there in his gray sweatpants, navy blue thermal and bare feet staring back at me. To me, he’d never looked so beautiful. I couldn’t help it. I hurried inside, slamming the door behind me with one hand and never broke stride as I threw my arms around him and kissed him hard.

He reciprocated, kissing me back. I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t care.

“I’m staying,” I said, finally taking charge of something.

Dr. Miller’s hands found the backs of my legs and he pulled me up off the ground, securing me chest-to-chest with my arms around the back of his neck. “Are you sure?” he breathed into my mouth.

“Yes.” I could still barely breathe but I managed. “You can tell me everything when you’re ready.” I pecked his lips again and he gave a barely-there smile. “I don’t need time to think. I know what I want.”

“I want you,” Dr. Miller whispered against my lips.

I kissed him again. “Open the champagne.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1

[slaymitchabernathy]

Sweet as Sugar

| this drabble was based on an anonymous request, i hope i have done it justice :) |

There is something to be said about having a routine.

Coriolanus used to scoff at the idea of it, of doing the same thing every single day without fail. But when Soarynn moved in with him, he began to look forward to it.

His girlfriend was a creature of habit in almost everything she did. The way she brushed her hair, picked out her clothes, did her nightly skincare routine. She was adorably predictable.

Which was why he expected her to be waiting for him when he got home from work.

She always waited by the front doors. Always.

His briefcase feels so heavy in his hand as he fumbles with the keys until he finally hears the familiar click of the lock unlatching. A smile creeps onto his face as he pushes the doors open, ready to see his beautiful girlfriend bouncing on her toes, beaming up at him.

She’s not there.

Coriolanus frowns as he steps into the entryway of their shared home. “Soarynn?” He calls out, setting his briefcase down on the floor. “Where are you darling?” He’s given no response which does nothing to ease his worrying thoughts and he’s quick to explore the penthouse in search of the woman he loves most in the world.

He finds her in the kitchen, leaning against the marble counter, her head hanging between her forearms. He notices how her body trembles and she takes shallow breaths. Is she sick? Just today his coworkers mentioned several people having the flu. He’d hate for Soarynn to be sick, to be bedridden for several days.

“Soarynn?” He asks softly, not wanting to startle his normally very alert girlfriend. Soarynn could hear a pin drop from across the room but she seemed to be in her own little world right now.

Coriolanus takes a few cautious steps towards her until he can rest a hand on her side and her head snaps up. Her blue-gray eyes are bloodshot and her normally tan skin is so pale. “What?” She snaps, her voice sharper than he’s ever heard it before.

Coriolanus would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken aback by her attitude. Soarynn is quite possibly the sweetest girl on the earth. To hear her with this tone of voice confuses him more than it angers him.

“I…you weren’t waiting for me when I got home. I came to check on you,” he explains, “are you alright darling? Are you sick?” Soarynn sniffles and shakes her head, “No. I’m not sick just tired is all.”

Coriolanus purses his lips but nods, he doesn’t quite believe her but he also doesn’t want to argue with her. Not when he’s practically paid to argue with grown men over business purchases and decisions. And speaking of work, he still has a few things to do before he retires for the night but he also doesn’t want to leave Soarynn, not when something is clearly wrong.

Soarynn must sense it, his apprehension because she straightens up and brushes her hair behind her ears before taking a few steps towards the archway that leads to the living room. She walks past him as if he’s not even here but he notices a stumble in her step. Is she drunk?

Coriolanus can’t remember the last time Soarynn was truly drunk. She’s always kept track of her alcohol consumption to ensure nothing embarrassing happens while under the influence. Perhaps she spent some time with her friends and let the drinks get the best of her. He watches her walk through the living room and towards their bedroom, once she’s out of sight, he shakes himself from his doubtful thoughts.

She’s fine. She’s tired and will be fine tomorrow.

He looks over at the kitchen table to see a plate of food waiting for him like always. They usually eat together but that’s clearly not happening tonight. So Coriolanus has dinner by himself, it’s delicious like always, Soarynn is a great cook.

It’s when he’s going to scrape the last bits and pieces of his plate into the trash bin that he sees most of Soarynn’s dinner has been discarded. He frowns, it’s not like Soarynn to skip out on a meal. She’s always had a smaller appetite than him but she’s also just smaller in general so it’s normal that she eats less than him.

Coriolanus probably eats more than most anyways but still, it worries him even further.

꧁ ꧂

Sitting in his study with his paperwork spread out on the desk in front of him, Coriolanus can’t help but let his mind drift to the woman down the hall.

Maybe she is sick, or…depressed? He hates how he doesn’t know how to fix this problem immediately. The problem solver in him hates all of this so much. He’s normally the one who fixes everything for Soarynn. The second she’s faced with the smallest inconvenience, he’s the one she runs to.

How can he be her boyfriend is he can’t help her?

Coriolanus pushes his paperwork away, he can do it later.

He quietly pads down the hall to their bedroom and checks his watch, it's a little past eight which means Soarynn should be sitting at her vanity in her bathroom applying some sort of face mask. When he walks into their large bedroom he finds her in bed, fast asleep. He furrows his eyebrows, the Soarynn he knows and loves would never fall asleep without him.

Something is wrong. He doesn't know what, but something is not right.

꧁ ꧂

The next few days pass without a lapse. Soarynn it seems, has returned to her normal self, smiling and laughing with a bounce in her step.

Coriolanus watches her as she walks around the boutique she’s dragged him to. He made himself comfortable on the sofa outside of the dressing rooms, giving him a good view of all the clothing racks and the pedestal that stands in front of the wall of mirrors.

Two employees follow his girlfriend around the shop, offering different suggestions, taking an article of clothing to the dressing room if Soarynn so much as glances at it, asking again and again if she’d like something to eat or drink.

It pleases him to see how well she’s treated by staff members of all Capitol establishments. He’s worked hard to get where he is today, to be respected the way he is and that applies to his girlfriend as well who’s stood loyally by his side through it all. If he were to hear that some business treated her poorly, they’d be shutting down the next day.

Soarynn gasps when she sees something on one of the racks and grabs it before holding it up for him to see. It's a pink dress, fluffy and sparkly, just as Soarynn likes her clothes. He smiles, knowing that she's been on the hunt for a dress like this for an upcoming gala they have next week.

"I'm going to try on everything," Soarynn tells him as she walks towards the dressing room doors, "I'll come out and show you everything." He takes the glass of champagne one of the staff members offers him and nods, "I can't wait to see how beautiful you look in everything, darling."

Soarynn blushes before making her way into the dressing rooms, two staff members right behind her. He always enjoys how easy it is to fluster Soarynn who still blushes at the smallest compliment from him. She's easy to compliment, to praise. She's perfect.

He busies himself by chatting with the staff members, all of whom are gushing over how pretty Soarynn is. "She could definitely model," one of them says. She certainly could be, but Coriolanus knows his girlfriend well enough to know how shy she can be. Walking down a runway or posing for the camera is not in her forte.

When Soarynn finally comes out in the first dress, a strapless red number, she's met with praise from everyone. The dress has a rather high slit that Coriolanus knows will drive him mad after a long night. Soarynn tilts her head as she meets his eyes in the mirror's reflection. They have a sultry look in them like she's trying to tempt him. He nods, "We'll take this one."

Soarynn heads back into the dressing room with a grin on her face and Coriolanus patiently waits for her to come out with the next dress.

But she doesn’t.

One of the staff members however, rushes out and whispers something into another staff members ear who nods and scurries to the front of the shop. Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows, “Is everything alright?” He asks, his voice colored with worry. The staff member meekly nods and does her best to avoid eye contact, “Yes sir. Miss Soarynn is simply in need of refreshments.”

Refreshments?

He’s not given much time to mull over the peculiar choice of words before the other member of staff comes back with a plate of little cakes and a glass bottle of water. They had eaten breakfast a few hours ago, but Soarynn usually wasn’t one to snack. Coriolanus on the other hand took every opportunity to eat when allowed.

He waited for a good ten minutes before Soarynn finally came back out, a flushed look on her face and somewhat unsteady on her feet. Coriolanus immediately rose from the sofa and rested a hand on her waist, “Is everything alright?” He asks quietly, putting a bit of pressure into his hold.

He didn’t think Soarynn was trying to keep anything from him, but something still felt off from the other night when she’d snapped at him and then gone straight to bed afterward.

Soarynn gives him a small smile and nods, “Yes, everything is fine. I just felt a bit light-headed so they brought me something to eat. I feel much better now.” He wants to point out that she didn’t try on any more dresses, but Soarynn honestly looks exhausted. Perhaps they should just go home so she can rest.

“Box the rest of the dresses up,” he says, not taking his eyes off Soarynn who’s now fully leaning into him, “we’ll take all of them.”

Soarynn doesn't even protest and simply closes her eyes. It might do them some good to visit the doctor on Saturday, just to make sure everything is alright.

He hopes everything is alright.

꧁ ꧂

The next few days have truly done nothing to ease Coriolanus or any of his worries. Soarynn has been the complete opposite of herself, she's been easily irritated, she even snapped at Petunia the other day, something Coriolanus thought he'd never see.

She's been tired more and more, going to be as early as seven, not wanting to partake in any of their regular nightly activities. Coriolanus also found her hunched over the toilet one night, overcome with nausea and cold sweats. He worries more than ever for his girlfriend who now can't seem to concentrate on the simplest of tasks. Perhaps she needs to speak to a therapist of some sort.

He pushes all those nagging thoughts to the back of his head as he finally reaches his front doors and lets out a heavy and tired sigh. Work absolutely killed him today with three different meetings and two very lengthy phone calls.

All he wants to do is eat dinner and curl up in the bathtub with Soarynn. Hopefully, she's feeling better today and will be up for it. When he left this morning she was still fast asleep. He placed a kiss on her cheek before leaving for work.

When Coriolanus pushes the heavy doors open he's not even surprised that Soarynn isn't waiting for him. She never waits for him anymore.

But something is off. It's quiet. Too quiet.

It's almost eerie how quiet it is in the penthouse. Coriolanus swallows and places the keys on the table near the front doors, "Soarynn?" He calls, "Soarynn are you here?" He's met with nothing but silence and while he's grown used to it, he feels there's been a shift in the air.

He's more than surprised when Petunia comes bounding down the hallway, meowing as she approaches him. He contemplates side-stepping her but never in his life has this cat greeted him like this before. In fact, Petunia could truly care less if he died today or lived tomorrow.

Petunia continues meowing once she reaches Coriolanus and stands on her hind legs, resting her front paws on his leg, pulling at the fabric of his pants. "Petunia, down," he says, in no mood for games. Petunia lets out a yowl that for some reason sounds like a small scream to him, as if something is terribly wrong.

Coriolanus feels a shiver run down his back, "Petunia, where is Soarynn? Where's Soarynn?" Petunia springs into action and bounds down the hallway and Coriolanus is hot on her heels.

She leads them to the bedroom where Coriolanus finds the lights are on but nobody is home. He frowns, perhaps he misread the situation and placed too much faith in Petunia. But the cat is pacing in front of the bathroom doors, the doors that are shut. She scratches at the wood, meowing as she often does when she wants to be let into a room.

"Soarynn?" He asks, slowly approaching the doors. He's not given a response but he opens the doors and the sight he's greeted with is quite possibly his worst nightmare.

Soarynn. On the ground. Unconscious.

Coriolanus falls to his knees, his heart is beating so fucking fast he might go into cardiac arrest. "Soarynn," he whispers, grabbing her limp body, "Soarynn wake up, darling wake up." Soarynn remains unresponsive and he presses two fingers to her pulse point, letting out a giant sigh of relief when he feels the familiar beat. But it's much weaker than it should be and her breaths are shallow.

Petunia rests a paw on Soarynn's arm, her little blue eyes filled with concern as she looks up at Coriolanus, "Good job Petunia," he mumbles, "good cat." He inspects Soarynn's body for any cuts or signs of trauma. He pictures the worst, someone breaking in and taking advantage of Soarynn before leaving her here.

But one glance around the bathroom puts those thoughts to rest. He can see the tub filled with bubbles and her robe hanging on the hook. She's dressed in her nightgown but it's clear that she was going to take a bath before this happened.

Whatever this is.

And he's going to get to the bottom of this first thing in the morning. Until then, all he can do is care for the love of his life and ensure that she's safe and sound.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus keeps one arm tightly wrapped around Soarynn's waist as they slowly walk into the doctor's office. He managed to get the earliest appointment slot and Soarynn thankfully, woke up this morning so they were able to come.

From what she claims, Soarynn has no recollection of passing out, only that she was going to take a bath and suddenly she felt strange, like her limbs were numb and her head was spinning.

It's a miracle she didn't bang her head on anything.

Coriolanus makes sure she's seated and comfortable before approaching the receptionist's desk, "Hello, I'm checking in for Soarynn Nightingale," he tells the older woman who nods and types something into her computer. "The doctor will be with you shortly," she says. Coriolanus nods and makes his way back to Soarynn who looks nervous like she always does when they visit the doctor.

Soarynn hates going to the doctor's office. She'll do everything in her power to avoid coming here and Coriolanus often has to force her to come. Her health is of utmost importance and he can't allow her fears to turn into negligence. "Everything will be alright sweet girl," he says, giving her hand a squeeze as he sits down next to her.

Soarynn gives him a small smile but he knows that she's not convinced, "I just...I worry he might think I'm an idiot if I can't even remember the past few weeks," she admits. Coriolanus frowns, should anyone think of Soarynn as an idiot, then their days will be numbered, simple as that.

He cups her face, touching her skin so gently as if she might shatter at any moment, "You couldn't be an idiot if you tried," he whispers, "you're so very intelligent and kind. The doctor will know what to do, trust him to help you, darling."

Soarynn lets out a deep breath and nods, closing her eyes, "I trust you Coryo." And what a horrible source of trust he's been, letting her get worse and worse without acting on it until her life was truly at risk. What if he hadn't come home when he did? What if Soarynn hadn't been home and passed out in the street?

"Ms. Nightingale?" The sound of the nurse pulls both of them from their worrying thoughts and Coriolanus helps Soarynn to her feet. She looks so small right now, so frail and delicate wrapped in her pink coat. She had been reluctant to come to this appointment, she didn't want to leave Petunia who was somewhat traumatized from last night's ordeal.

"Right this way," the nurse says, leading them down a maze of several hallways before they enter a small room with a bed and a chair, "The doctor will be with you shortly." Soarynn pales at the medical bed and Coriolanus presses a kiss to the top of her head, "It's okay Soarynn, I'm right here, you'll be okay." He helps her take off her coat and gloves before grabbing her waist and sitting her on the bed, the paper lining crinkling under her weight.

Soarynn rubs her hands up and down her legs, nervously looking around the room. It's a standard room with medical equipment on the counter. "What if he tries to give me a shot?" She asks, tugging on his hand.

Coriolanus gives her a small smile, "Then I'll be here to kiss it better once he's done." That wasn't the answer she was looking for. Coriolanus knows Soarynn well enough to know that she wants him to protect her from all things, even things that are in her best interest.

They don't say anything else while they wait until there's a knock at the door and the doctor makes his appearance. Dr. Ferns is the best in the business and the only doctor that Coriolanus trusts to look after himself and Soarynn.

"Good morning," he greets the young couple, closing the door behind him, "I believe I'm here to see you today my dear." Soarynn gives him a small nod and Coriolanus gives her hand a squeeze, "What brings you in today?" Dr. Ferns asks, his back to them while he washes his hands.

Soarynn looks up expectantly at Coriolanus who clears his throat, "Soarynn has been experiencing several abnormal behaviors."

Dr. Ferns turns to look at them and raises his eyebrows, "Behaviors such as?" Coriolanus does his best to remember all of them but so much has happened with Soarynn, "Fatigue, dizziness, loss of appetite, irritability, difficulty concentrating."

Dr. Ferns nods and looks Soarynn up and down, "You're usually much livelier when I see you, your skin certainly has paled. And you mentioned loss of appetite?" Soarynn nods and lowers her head, "I'm just not hungry anymore," she explains.

Dr. Ferns shoots Coriolanus a look of concern, Soarynn can't afford to miss out on any meals, not when she's already lean as is. Dr. Ferns looks down at the clipboard sitting on the counter and presses his lips in a thin line, "Well, this could mean many things. But I'd like to run several tests so we can eliminate as many possibilities as we can."

Soarynn furrows her eyebrows and Coriolanus feels her squeeze his hand even harder this time, "What possibilities?" She asks him, her voice wary and untrusting. Dr. Ferns gives her a small smile, "Pregnancy for starters."

Both Coriolanus and Soarynn pale at the suggestion of her being with child. That can't be possible, not now, not when they aren't married. Dr. Ferns continues, "There's also several different conditions that have to do with your blood, so to be sure I'd like to take a blood sample."

Oh boy, Coriolanus thinks to himself. Soarynn hates needles with passion and she's so squeamish around blood. She draws in a sharp breath but Coriolanus is quick to nod, "Of course, run as many tests as you need."

Dr. Ferns leaves the room a moment later and tears form in Soarynn's eyes at the same time, "I don't want to get my blood taken," she mumbles, wiping away a tear.

It breaks his heart to see her like this, but Coriolanus has to know how to fix this problem. "Darling, I want you to feel better, I want to know that you're safe when I'm not around and it'll only be a pinch," he assures her, getting down on his knees and holding both of her hands in his.

Soarynn doesn't meet his eyes and Coriolanus sighs, he knows she's not trying to be difficult, that she's simply as tired and frustrated as he is. And maybe he wouldn't push for these tests so hard last night was the final straw for him. Finding her limp body on the bathroom floor did something to Coriolanus.

He would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

He can see her resolve slowly breaking, her stubborn walls finally coming down at his reasoning, "You'll hold my hand?" She asks, her blue-gray eyes finally meeting his. A small smile tugs on his lips and he nods, "Of course I will."

Soarynn sighs and her shoulders sag, "Alright."

꧁ ꧂

"Well, Ms. Nightingale, you're not pregnant."

Neither Coriolanus nor Soarynn attempts to hold in their sigh of relief when Dr. Ferns delivered that news. Even though they're an established couple, having a child before marriage would cause quite a scandal. Neither of them can afford that.

"But, after running several bloodwork tests, it appears that you have hypoglycemia."

Coriolanus blinks several times and feels his mouth go dry. What is hypoglycemia? And why does Soarynn have it?

"Does your family have a history of this or any other blood sugar-related conditions?" He presses and Soarynn frowns, "I...I don't know. Both my parents are dead and their medical records burned in the fire."

Coriolanus rubs his thumb on the back of her hand to soothe her. He knows how difficult it is for Soarynn to talk about her parents, both of whom died during the war. Dr. Ferns nods and looks back down at his clipboard, "Well, it seems that this is the reason you've been experiencing all the symptoms you've listed."

Coriolanus feels so small right now, so small and helpless. He thought coming here would give him answers and yet he feels more lost and confused. "What does this mean exactly?" He asks.

"It means that Ms. Nightingale's blood sugar levels are below what they should be. If she hasn't been eating enough then her blood sugar levels will drop, which can then lead to the symptoms you've listed and sometimes even worse such as seizures."

Well, it's certainly hard to keep her blood sugar levels up if she's not even hungry. Coriolanus watches Soarynn's face very carefully for any signs of confusion or frustration but she seems placid. "What do I have to do to feel better?" She finally asks, looking the doctor right in the eye. He offers her a pamphlet of sorts with all sorts of things listed on the page.

"Checking your blood sugar levels frequently is a good start, there are several options to do that, the least invasive would be pricking your finger and testing a small sample. Should your levels be below normal, something like candy or juice will help get them back up to where they should be. Also eating frequent small meals throughout the day is a good way to ensure steady blood sugar levels."

Coriolanus nods, that makes sense. A change in her diet might be necessary but other than that it seems to be a somewhat easy fix. And they seem to have caught it early. "Will she be able to lead a normal life? How come we weren't able to detect this sooner?" At twenty-three, he'd figure that Soarynn would've shown signs much earlier.

"Many people with this condition can go undetected for years before they start showing symptoms," Dr. Ferns explains, "and as long as she stays on top of her levels, she'll be able to lead a normal life."

Coriolanus feels a weight lift off his shoulders. Soarynn is going to be okay, she's not going to die from a sudden fatal illness and leave him alone for the rest of his life. He reaches out his other hand to Dr. Ferns, "Thank you for your help."

꧁ ꧂

"Try to eat something Soarynn," Coriolanus encourages.

She looks so small in their large bed, tucked under the covers, eyeing the yogurt he's offering her on a spoon. Soarynn pushes his hand away and crosses her arms, "I don't like that yogurt." This is the fifth yogurt he's bought her and it's packed with good things and sugars that will help her stay stable and yet Soarynn is set on avoiding it.

"I highly doubt this one is as bad as the first one," he reasons, remembering how a few weeks ago he bought her a nasty-tasting yogurt that not even Petunia would like. Speaking of Petunia, he watches her pad across the bed until she's standing on Soarynn's legs, giving the spoon a sniff. He smiles, "See? Petunia doesn't mind."

Soarynn raises her eyebrows, not impressed, "Petunia is a cat," she reminds him. Coriolanus pushes the spoon towards her again, finally getting her to taste it, "She also helped me find you when you passed out," he gently reminds her. Soarynn swallows the yogurt and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, "I wish I was like everybody else and didn't have to do this stupid diet."

She's frustrated and rightfully so. Coriolanus doesn't chide her on it, he simply offers her another spoonful. For the most part, Soarynn's daily life hasn't changed. She still goes out to events, still likes shopping and drawing, and going on dates with him. But she has to be more mindful, more aware of what's going into her body.

He sets the bowl of yogurt down along with the spoon and grabs her glucose meter, a machine that tells them the exact number her blood sugar is at. "Well, if your levels are good then you won't need to eat any more yogurt," he says, doing his best to make pricking her finger sound fun.

Soarynn eyes the machine and sighs, holding out her right hand to him. Coriolanus gently takes her hand and brings the machine up to one of her fingers, she doesn't even flinch when the needle pricks her skin, causing a small dot of blood to rush to the surface. Coriolanus takes a clean test strip and swipes up the blood before letting the meter read the strip.

He presses a kiss to her finger, "You're so brave darling, I hope you know that." Soarynn's sour face slightly falters and he can tell that she's trying not to smile. The familiar beep of the machine lets them know that it's done reading and Coriolanus gives her a triumphant smile when he sees that her blood sugar is right where it should be.

"Well done my love," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek this time. Soarynn giggles and tries to push him away which further leads him to kissing all over her face. "Coryo! Stop!" she shrieks with laughter. Coriolanus grins when his lips finally find hers and they share a kiss that's soon interrupted by Petunia who quite literally butts her head in between their faces.

"You're a real pain, you know that?" He asks the feline who rubs her face against Soarynn's.

Soarynn smiles and gives Petunia a scratch behind the ears, "How lucky am I to have two doting loved ones to take care of me?"

Coriolanus watches his girlfriend and her cat with a content smile on his face. The past few weeks have been an adjustment, to say the least. Coriolanus of course, was completely overbearing once they left the doctor's office and worried that every little thing could cause Soarynn's levels to drop. But she was quick to remind him that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

And of course, she was. But it's hard for him to let her be on her own, to shoulder this burden alone.

Coriolanus did everything in his power to make sure that Soarynn felt comfortable and normal. He helped her develop a new diet and did it with her, even if he wasn't a fan of some of the things she had to eat. He held her hand when they did blood sugar tests, and always kissed her fingers better.

There had been a few times when he nearly forgot that his girlfriend's health was a bit more compromised than most. Like the time they had been rushing to the theatre and his long legs were too hard for her to keep up with. He'd looked over his shoulder to see Soarynn leaning against a brick wall, absolutely breathless. They had missed the first half of the show trying to get Soarynn's breathing back to normal but he didn't care. He just wanted her safe and sound.

"You know, I need you the way you need sugar," he jokes, bringing a grin to Soarynn's face. "Do you now?" She asks, tilting her head in a playful manner. Coriolanus nods solemnly, "I fear I've grown addicted to you and your sweetness."

His lips are hovering above hers now, nothing but a breath between them, "Am I really that sweet to you Coryo?"

He doesn't hesitate to push his lips against hers again, this time more passionate than the last. He mumbles the next words against her lips, not wanting an inch of distance between them, "Sweet as sugar."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[apparently-artless]

WHY YOU SHOULD TRY READING WIND BREAKER EVEN IF IT'S NOT YOUR CUP OF TEA

Content warnings to take note of before you read: poorly written explanations and BAD ENGLISH [like extremely bad I'm not even joking XD], a few manga spoilers like mentions of characters that might not be included in the current season of anime

A few days ago, I started reading the manga of Wind Breaker by Satoru Nii and reached the latest chapter after two days. Considering I have a life to deal with, this is actually fast because I couldn't stop reading for as long as there is a next chapter to read. This series was suggested to me by my sister and I was already looking forward to the anime. After watching 2 episodes so far, I couldn't contain myself and decided to read the manga instead. In all honesty, delinquent theme is not my cup of tea. At the very least, it is not a genre that I would actively seek. However, this series piqued my curiosity, kept me engaged, and made me want to read more. And now here I am, desperately waiting for the next chapter to come.

Before anything else, I would like to let you know that [as far as the latest chapters are concerned], there are no teachers involved in the story. Even if they are going to school, there are no scenes of them actually studying. There are also no authorities involved. So just think of them as students only doing social studies by protecting the townsfolk and interacting with them daily. But then again, THIS IS FICTION, SO IT'S OKAY!! So with that out of the way, let me point out a few things that I really love about this manga.

THE MAIN CHARACTER

The main character, Sakura Haruka has such a cool character design. Bicolored hair and different eye colors, who wouldn't be interested? To top it all off, he's good at fighting and he is such a tsundere he ends up blushing all the time! He also has a sad past that makes us want to protect this baby boy from all the pain and suffering he encountered thus far. If you've watched the first episode, it's quite evident that he was ostracized because of the way he looks. Ugh, my poor baby boy. T_T

The anime actually did a great job of including more tidbits of Sakura's dark past in the first episode. There were scenes that I noticed that are included in the later chapters. In fact, the first 1 minute and 30 seconds of the first episode gave us something that manga did not give until almost 50+ chapters.

Some of the scenes are these:

And this:

It may seem like a normal dark-lit room but it actually speaks a lot. One room, no other furniture, and just a futon he can sleep on. What I am trying to point out is there is a difference between someone who started living alone as soon as they moved to a different town and someone who has been living alone almost their entire life. Now, don't get me wrong. Sakura's past is yet to be revealed. The full details of how he ended up alone are not yet even shown in the latest chapters of the manga. We can only make assumptions based on what was shown thus far and his behavior as he tries to interact with more people. Anyway, as you read more chapters, you will eventually realize that the main character lived a painful life before coming to Furin High.

THE OTHER CHARACTERS

If the main character is great, it's a good series. But it's even better if the other characters are interesting too. The mangaka did an amazing job with the other characters and how they contributed to the story. Each character has their own personality that you will also love. I bet you might even have a top 5 or even top 10 favorite characters just for this series alone.

THE CHARACTERS' DEVELOPMENTS

Now this is one of the reasons why I fell in love with the series. I am not just referring to the character development of the MC but also the other characters! What's more, is that the author finds a way to make their development interesting but brief and how their past contributes to who they are right now. Sometimes, the past is even included in a single chapter and with a few more scenes of the present. Of course, there are longer backstories but I assure you that every scene is important and contributes greatly to the plot.

THE PERFECT BALANCE BETWEEN MC AND THE OTHER CHARACTERS

You know how there are times that the main character feels like they are being forgotten in some series? I can think of a few but let's not mention those. XD Anyway, this one will surely not disappoint. The MC is a first-year high school student and even though it was already proven how strong he is in the first two episodes, there are surely other characters that are more OP than he is.

To me, this is very important. If the MC is the only one progressing, it's quite boring. But if there are other characters developing to the point that it makes you think, oh maybe he's the MC all along, it makes the series annoying. If I ever encountered such tropes, I would immediately put that series on hold and get back to it once I felt like it. Or maybe just never get back to it, at all. XD

Wind Breaker, despite having many interesting characters, manages to highlight the secondary characters without having the main character overshadowed and underappreciated.

THE DRAMA, THE COMEDY, THE ACTION AND THE FOUND FAMILY TROPE

Since delinquency is one of the themes of this series, of course, there's action. And the anime so far is doing a great job with the animation of the fight scenes. The drama is superb. It tears my heart out and rip it to pieces every single damn time whenever one of the characters' past is introduced. And then there's comedy. MC is socially awkward, and tsundere to boot. Who wouldn't laugh at his antics? What's best is that despite the fact that Sakura's behaviors are quite disturbing [signs that indicate that he did not have a normal life], the author managed to portray these scenes in such a way that you will find them painful but endearing at the same time.

As for the found family, I wouldn't want to spoil a lot but just think of it this way, the founder of BOFURIN considers every member not just as a friend but as family. And not just the students, he also considers the people of their town a big part of their family. Not some strangers to protect, but a family to treasure. If that's not sweet, I don't know what it is.

ADDED LGBT THEME

Since it's been confirmed that the anime will only have 13 episodes, the character I am referring to will not be introduced in the anime. As you may have already noticed, Furin High is an all-boys school so needless to say, all students there are males [at least, biologically speaking]. She's the only rose among the thorns. She was included in the screenshot below but I doubt we'll get to see her completely in this season. So I will leave it to your capable eyes to identify who I am referring to. XD

Anyway, the portrayal of this character is very close to reality. Her story of how she struggled with her sexuality and how she wanted to be accepted by other people is so beautifully and at the same time painfully written.

I really love Sakura and this character's interactions. It feels like Sakura has a very reliable and beautiful older sister. I do hope that this series will continue getting more seasons because I am really in love with this character.

I can still go on but I think that I already made my point. Anyway, if you are still having doubts about this series, just give it a try. Read at least 60 chapters and if you really don't like it, there's nothing wrong with it. We all have our own preferences when it comes to anime and manga. I thought I just needed to make this review since it's really a surprise how this series managed to make me love it a lot.

So if you are looking for a series that has these elements: fluff, angst, action, drama, comedy, found family, lgbt themes, you will definitely enjoy it!

[professional-benaddict]

Stephen and Tony laying in bed. They have been together for 7 years now. Maybe they are having late night talks, serious, bare it all talks. And maybe on this night, they talk about "the one that got away" they are happy together, and things are great and wouldn't trade each other for the world.

But both their pasts are complicated. Most people are not still best friends with their ex's who got together. Who knew that Pepper and Christine would end up as the love story of the century.

But surprisingly, they don't say those names- the one the other was expecting.

" See... there was this intern. His name was Peter; I never clicked so well with someone. But he was young.... Pepper said it was bad PR so we kept it quite. We didn't go public... we were together about a year, but I still wasn't off the wagon.. just better at hiding it at that point... there was a party. I can't really remember the night, but the next day he was gone. ..."

" Funnily mine was named Peter too.... his aunt was a nurse at the hospital, and he volunteered there a lot for the scholarship for his college. We fit well together, I knew he had recently gotten out of a relationship, but we were moving fast. I had a long day with intense surgery... one of the few patients I lost. I was angry. I know he was trying to encourage me. But I wasn't having it. I said.... so many hurtful things... Came home a few days later to a package of my things from his place at the door."

Would they realize they were talking about the same Peter??

And just who is Peter with now....

- WinterSpiderPurrs

A year later, Stephen and Tony are at a charity event. They already made their donations, but they have to show some face as well. The couple is very much looking forward to leaving soon and going on a date, just the two of them. Tony found a new exciting looking restaurant they want to try.

Seeing familiar faces in the crowd is to be expected, but this one feels different. It stirs up something in Tony, even after just one glance. His curls are shorter, but the colour is the same.

The young man turns, and their eyes meet. Tony doesn’t make the first move, too embarrassed to do so. He knows he was in the wrong way back then. But, the man approaches. God, Peter is even more beautiful now.

“Mr Stark! It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, it really has. Mr Parker.” Tony manages to breathe out shakily. Peter’s smile seems so genuine, but there is something in his eyes. It is hard to pinpoint with all the memories swirling in Tony’s mind.

“Hey, honey. Ready to get going?” Stephen swoops in from behind, putting a hand on the back of Tony’s neck.

“Oh, Doctor Strange, too. Wow!” Peter gasps.

Only now does Stephen notice Peter and his eyes go wide in surprise.

“Peter! I didn’t expect to see you here.” Stephen says, reaching a hand out in a greeting. Peter takes it, but lets go quickly.

“Wait, you know him?” Tony asks, making Stephen turn to him with a puzzled look.

“Yes, uhm- he volunteered at the hospital. Is- is that- intern Peter?”

The husbands start talking over each other, not really listening to one another, but neither wants to back down either. By the time they look around, Peter has disappeared.

Date night probably isn’t going to go as they hoped it would.

——

i would love love looove if you continued it a little bit if you can hehe☺️☺️ maybe stephen and tony meet peter on their way out and see him with someone?? @winterspiderpurrs 💗💗

[leahseclipse]

Dar+ling (Emily Prentiss x f!reader)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing but an alarming amount of cuteness 🤭

Prompt: Person A finally confesses their feelings for B, who has wanted to do just the same for weeks

Summary: Emily finally gets the courage to confess their feelings to the reader, who has just wanted to do it too for a while.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Doing this cute fic for @foxy-eva 's writing challenge 🥳🥳 congratulations for the 2k followers, I wish you lots of success for the future!!! (Btw this hasn't been beta'd lmao I literally wrote all of this on the Tumblr editor.......... 🫣)

It had always been absolutely no secret to everyone that Emily and I have always been quite close for the past few years, always hanging out after work, chatting for hours and hours in the break room, sitting a bit too long on each other's desks, and the list goes on and on.

We've never gone much farther than that. Not because we didn't want to, just because we didn't really talk about everything, the feelings matter, if we like each other as friends or not... It just never came up. I guess we didn't really think about it.

I've never dared to cross the line, I don't want things to end up awkward because I like her and she doesn't. But, what if she likes me too? For all I know, she could do, I don't see why not.

But, I've never asked her.

I really want to, though. The words are standing on the tip of my tongue whenever it's just the two of us, they're waiting to be said but... I don't let them out. I keep telling myself that I'll do it next time, but 'next time' ends up being delayed and on and on.

I just wish I could confess to her. Then I'd probably feel much better and everything would be fine. I really wish I could do it already. It's been weeks since I've been wanting to tell her.

I always stare at Emily's desk whether she's there or not, I just love to memorize every trait of her face, all the time. I can still imagine her sitting there even though she hasn't arrived to work yet.

I always look forward for the sound of the elevator, each morning. It might be my favorite sound after the sound of her voice. Elevator sounds being my favorite is a bit weird, but I like it because after that her arrival always follows.

And just when I turn my head, the elevator tings, and Emily is there. Her eyes meet mine and I wave at her quicky before standing up to walk up to her.

"Well someone's happy to see me today." Emily says as she opens her arms to hug me. We always sway from left to right, it's our thing.

"As always." I respond as we pull apart from each other and automatically start to walk towards our respective desks, even though she never sits at her chair first. She always goes for my desk, and I sit on my chair and look up at her in all of her beauty.

Even though we've seen each other yesterday, it's like we haven't talked in years. We chat for at least 30 minutes before realizing it's been that long.

I notice that she's been acting slightly different though, as if something has been on her mind. I wonder what happened, if I should ask about it or not while we talk.

I look around and notice that others have started to arrive. We greet them and slightly chat with them, and I start to think that it would be probably better if we moved somewhere else more private to talk.

"Hey, uh... Do you wanna go get some coffee in the break room? I haven't had any this morning and I'm starting to crave caffeine." I chuckle, and she smiles. She smiles.

We both walk away from the desk to the thankfully empty room, and I start to open up the cabinet where mugs are kept.

"Here, your mug." I say as I grab it and hand it to her, before I grab my own and close the cabinet.

"I'll pour it for you, here." She says and I set down my mug on the counter as she pours coffee in it.

"That's kind of you, thanks."

"You're welcome." She responds, and our eyes meet, just for a few seconds, then probably a bit more. It's like it's just the two of us, in a bubble, for a moment. Then she starts to chuckle, out of nowhere. It usually happens when we stare into each other's eyes for too long, I guess it's a nervous reaction. I smile to myself as she pours coffee for herself and sets the pot back on the holder.

We just stand there in silence as we drink our coffees, and neither of us seem to mind. Silent moments are precious too sometimes, I like them. Just standing by her is enough for me.

"Hey, uh..." She starts to talk but stops, as if she hesitates.

"Yeah?" I look at her but she has trouble to look at me. She seems nervous. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing bad. It's just... I've... Been thinking about something lately."

"What have you been thinking about?" I ask as we both set our empty mugs on the counter.

"You?"

"Me? What about?" I start to smile, out of nervousness.

"About the fact that I love you." I can see her exhaling a big breath after she tells the words, as if a weight has been lifted off her, and I think that I feel it too.

"You... You love me?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Well, it kinda turns out I do too." I say with a smile and she instantly seems relieved.

"You have no idea how bad I wished you did too."

"And you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this. It's been... Weeks."

"It's been way too long."

"Yeah." I say, before looking behind me to see if anyone else is near, but no one is. I can hear chatting nearby, everyone is probably too busy talking.

"Why did you-" Emily starts to ask, but I cut her off by pressing my lips to hers, just for a few seconds, because someone might come.

"You'll kiss me back tonight. They'll start looking for us any time now." I say after I pull away.

Emily is breathless as she puts her hands on my arms and says, "I might kiss you before, I'm known to be bad at waiting."

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here! ❤️ Don't hesitate to drop a request if you want ☺️)

Here's my masterlist if you want to check out more of my work!

[super-ion]

Such Lovely Fur

Chapter 4

[Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3]

I go on alone.

The passage through the mountain winds and branches, confirming my suspicions of a labyrinth. The light from the entrance persists for a time, longer than it would before my eyes were changed, but soon I am enveloped in pitch darkness. I am guided only by the faint sounds of the space, the subtle smells and whispers of breeze.

I make my way ever forward and ever higher until I discover the faintest light once more. The walls become carved in sharper lines and I begin to pass sconces bearing torches with a strange blue fire that gives off no heat. Eventually the stone walls give way to ice. As I proceed, the temperature drops. The chill of this place penetrates even my thick fur coat and my breath comes out in great clouds.

The further I go, the smoother and more ornate the walls become until I find myself wandering a grand palatial space. It is unnervingly empty, the study paws of my feet barely make a sound, but my footsteps still echo ominously.

That is until I hear the music. The music is somehow worse. It means someone is here. This horrible frozen palace is someone's home.

It is true that I have spent the past few days cavorting with a demon, but Rook was a physical presence, something I could relate to. This place is saturated in some primal elemental power that I cannot fathom.

The music grows ever louder as I make my way higher, drawing me ever closer to my goal. I know that when I find the source of the music, I will find my betrothed.

I finally reach a grand hall, grander than any I have passed yet. Every surface of the ice is carved in exquisitely fine details. The music emanates from a pair of mighty doors at the end of the hall.

As I walk, I suddenly spy a figure out of the corner of my eye. I am so on edge that I leap back in animal fright, laying my ears back and fluffing the fur on my tail. My reflection responded in kind.

What I mistook for another parallel hallway is actually a mirror… or at least a sheet of ice polished mirror smooth.

I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I have been frightened by my own reflection, but in my defense, I have not seen myself since my transformation.

I stare at the thing that I have become.

I had at least some idea of the fur and the paws and the tail, but Rook's final gift comes as a shock. My face is still generally my own, but the leopard features are unmistakable. My eyes are the color of polished gold, with the irises covering most of the visible surface. My nose has flattened and the tip has darkened. Feline ears poke out from snarled hair that has become the same silver grey color as the rest of my. I bare my teeth and find that my canines are larger than I initially thought.

I have become a beast, more animal than human.

Resolute, I walk to the doors and through the translucent ice, I can make out dim figures moving in time with it.

I take a breath and push them open to reveal a grand ballroom. The space is impossibly cavernous, larger and more extravagant than any room in the manors of any of the merchant princes in my home country. The space is filled with hundreds of dancers garbed in finery from every conceivable culture, from far distant lands and ages long forgotten. Each one of them is more beautiful than the last. The court of the Lady of Winter. Her collection.

All of them have a strange bluish cast to their skin and frost rims the edges of their clothes. Upon my entrance, the nearest dancers fall impossibly still to stare unblinking at me with impassive expressions. The stillness spreads out from me like a ripple in water and the music fades away.

The room is absolutely silent, I am distressed to discover that the only sound is my own heartbeat. Terror siezes me as some mysterious animal instinct tells me that these people do not smell alive. Nor do they smell quite dead. They are frozen, kept animated and eternally beautiful by the everpresent unfathomable power of this place.

I hear another sound, a slow heartbeat at the far end of the chamber.

I take a step forward and the crowd parts. They all stare at me. They stare at my torn and filthy clothes. They stare at my fur and my tail and my ears and my eyes.

I want to run. I want to flee this horrible place.

I take another step forward and another and another until I finally reach a raised dais.

A woman sits on a grand throne of ice that gleams iridescently behind her. Her skin is impossibly pale and perfectly smooth as if she were carved of ice herself. Her hair is white as snow and her eyes are the color of the pale blue ice around us. A crown sits atop her head, gleaming silver and studded with diamonds. Her dress is some sort of silvery silk, shining impossibly like a mirror made into fabric.

I have heard tales of her. All children have. Be good or the Lady of Winter will come for you in the night. In some versions of the tales she is a witch who gained the secret of immorality. In others she is a spirit made flesh, a physical manifestation of winter itself. She is a collector of souls, stealing people away from their homes and bringing them here.

I am so terrified by her presence that I only belatedly notice the figure seated at her side.

My betrothed is clothed in the very same regalia he wore on the celebration on the eve of what was meant to be our wedding. His heart beats so slowly in his chest and his eyes are glazed over, surely in the process of being frozen like the rest of the people here.

He blinks and some of the fog lifts from his eyes. He stares at me for a long while before recognition finally sets in.

“Astra?” he gasps. “What happened to you?”

I should be relieved that he recognizes me, but terror and doubt and uncertainty eat away at me.

“I came to rescue you,” I confess. “Along the way I met a demon. In exchange for her freedom she granted me gifts to not only help me survive but to reach you.”

His eyes widen in horror.

“You did this to yourself?” he asks. “You made yourself into a monster?”

A monster?

My doubts and fears crystalize in my belly. A wave of despair floods through me, but to my surprise it is followed by a wave of hot anger. Rook has given me incredible gifts, they are unorthodox certainly, but they are beautiful.

“Is that how you see me?” I snarl. “A monster? I did this to save you!”

He recoils at the heat in my voice. He opens his mouth, but the Lady of Winter silences him with a raised finger.

“It seems you have a choice, my pet,” she says, her voice resonating unnaturally from the very walls. “Remain here, unchanged and beautiful for eternity, or return home with your fiancee and the knowledge of what she has done to herself.”

He casts her a wild desperate look.

“You would simply let me go?” he asks.

“There are powers in this world great enough to challenge mine,” she replies. “This one has shown great devotion in making the treacherous journey here. If it is indeed true love that drives her, I dare not go against it.”

He looks back to me.

“Astra,” he pleads. “Tell me there is a way to break your curse. We can return home, we can have the life we were meant to have.”

A curse?

“This… this is not a curse,” I gasp. “It is a gift.”

“Astra,” he pleads. “A demon has addled your mind. You have dabbled in magic. If we return and you stay as you are, there will be no place for you in civilized society.”

His words hit me like a hammer

He truly cannot see the gift that has been given to me, can he?

He asks me to change for him?

What is it that your heart desires?

Rook's gifts, the changes I have wrought upon myself, they were not for him. They were never for him.

They were for me. Rook has granted me freedom. She saw through to the heart of me. She saw the truth in me that I could never acknowledge.

I have been a fool.

“No,” I say.

“No?” he replies, aghast.

“No,” I repeat. “I will not change myself for you. Not any more. I do not care if you leave this place or not, but I will not marry you. I have seen too much, experienced too much. I will not go back. I cannot go back.”

I turn to the Lady of Winter and bob a quick curtsey. I do not know how far her hospitality and tolerance for my presence in her court will last. I turn and walk away from them. It takes all my willpower to not break into a run until I am well and truly away from the ballroom.

But once I do start running, I cannot stop. I run and I sprint and I fall to all fours and lope easily down the twisting paths. I need to be out of here. I need to be away. I need… I need…

I retrace my steps through the maze of frozen stone until finally I step into the sunlight and breathe in the cold mountain air.

The world is alive. I am alive.

I survey the landscape beyond the cliff. Somewhere out in that rough craggy terrain is Rook. I need to find her. I cannot rest until-

“Forget something?”

The voice behind me makes me jump, which in turn produces a familiar snicker. There, lounging on an outcropping above the passage is Rook.

“I can't help but notice that you're alone, little cat,” she says.

“He didn't want me, not like this.”

“His loss,” she scoffs.

I do not fully know why, but the words make my heart flutter.

“It is probably for the best,” I admit. “I cannot go back to my old life… and there is something else.”

She sits upright and cocks her head at me curiously.

“A demon stole my heart,” I confess.

She stiffens and very real jealousy plays across her face. Her reaction is enough to summon forth a mirthful giggle from within me. She hisses and hurls a clod of snow at me before hopping off her perch and standing before me.

“It's me, right?” she demands. “Because if I need to go murder somebody-”

“It is you,” I laugh.

Before she can respond, I grab her shoulders and pull her to my level. The kiss is wild and frantic and not at all proper for a lady of my station.

But I am no longer a lady, am I? I have become something else entirely. I do not know what I am yet, but I intend to find out.

She makes a soft self satisfied moan against my lips and her sharp teeth nip at me. She pulls me close and spins us around, pressing my back into the stone of the cliff. I gasp in surprise, which only goads her more. I melt into her attentions and forget myself

I only pull away reluctantly. Her eyes open and she gazes hungrily at my lips. She wants more. She wants so much more.

I want so much more.

“Please,” I gasp. “I want this… just not… here.”

She glances upwards towards the peak of the mountain.

“That's fair,” she admits. “Where would you like to go, little cat?”

“Anywhere,” I respond. “Everywhere.”

[writer-by-the-sea]

elliot w an asexual reader? trying to navigate and communicate their relationship and it ends in fluff maybe

Thank you to my friend @chenziee for helping me out with this. Please go take a look at all their Ace fics they have available in the One Piece fandom :)

Snuggled beneath the blankets, a toasty fire and a cheesy movie playing — a repeated date night like many others with the farmer that I would never grow tired of. They lean against me, their head resting on my shoulder as I take another sip of my wine. The popcorn we had earlier surprisingly paired well with the red wine, but now I felt myself becoming sleepy with the farmer here beside me keeping me warm and comfortable. 

For a few weeks now, we’ve been seeing each other. Maybe not considered ‘official’ quite yet, but I could feel us moving in the same direction. Each night I spent with them I felt myself growing deeper feelings, feelings which I could only dream that they would return. As I cuddled closer to them, adjusting my position to place my arm across their shoulders, I knew that this was a relationship far beyond that of friends or even a new crush. 

I was falling in love. 

“Hey,” I mumbled when the movie credits began to roll, the soft singing of some unknown performer slipping through the speakers. “Do you mind if I stay the night?” I kept my gaze to the tv screen, knowing that if I were to make eye contact I might reveal just how nervous I was to ask this. Normally, in my past relationships, by this point we would be sleeping together. With my question I suddenly became aware of the old condom sitting in my wallet. Good lord, how old was that thing now? Hardly usable based on age alone, but the friction in my wallet had no doubt torn it to shreds. 

I shook the thought away, there was no chance we’d be using that condom, let alone any condom tonight. I could tell the farmer has been apprehensive about becoming intimate, and if we were ever to move forward in that sense it would be when they were comfortable—

“Sure,” they replied with a smile, looking up at me while still relaxing on my shoulder, those gorgeous eyes luring me into a quick kiss on the lips. When they pulled back, they chewed at their bottom lip, their hands coming to sit in their lap while they fiddled with their thumbs. “Look, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

My heart dropped.

The worry in their eyes, their sudden shortness of breath, the way they were the one now avoiding my gaze as they stared down at their lap. 

“Is there someone else?” I asked. My heart felt as if it could burst from my chest. Of course, this all made sense. Of all of the other bachelors and bachelorettes in town, there were much better options than me. Alex and his strength, Penny and her kindness, Harvey with his practice, Sebastian and his homegrown plants in the basement. 

“What?” The farmer laugh, short and sweet. “No-“

“My god, are you dying?!” 

“Elliott, no.” 

“I’ll give you a kidney if you need it, just say the word.” 

“I think we would need a blood test first…”

“Then let’s go to Harvey’s! He can see if I’m a match right now!” 

“Elliott, I don’t want your kidney!” 

“It’s perfectly healthy, I promise!” I pressed my lips together in thought for a moment before continuing. “Wait, does wine affect the kidney or is that the liver? Farmer it might not be that healthy after all but—“ 

“Elliott, No. Look, I’m ace.” 

“Ace?” I paused. Ace. What on earth was ace? “You… don’t have kidneys? Like at all?” 

“No, just,” the farmer covered their mouth, muffling themselves. 

I took their free hand, holding it gently while I looked deep into their eyes. “Please, don’t cry. We can figure this out together, and I’ll be here for you every step of the way.” 

They shook their head, suddenly dropping the hand covering their mouth only to reveal their laugh. The farmer rolled back, forcing me to drop their hand as now both of their hands covered their face while they continued to laugh, only their laughter growing even louder.

“If you’re dying this isn’t funny.” I pouted. 

“No, no—“ they snorted, tears now coming from their eyes. “This is hilarious—“

“I hardly find kidney failure funny—“

They sat up, wiping the tears from their eyes before the spoke. “I’m not dying.” 

I let out a breath. “Oh thank heavens.” 

“Ace means… well, it has to do with sex.” 

“Ahh.. yes, ace.” Right. Ace…. “Actually, no. I don’t know what that means. Does it have to do with golfing? Or poker?” I scratched at the back of my head, it wasn’t that I wasn’t into role play, but I would play a very poor golf instructor. 

The farmer snorted by trying to hold back another laugh. “No, it means I don’t want to have sex. As in… With most standard relationships… There is sexual attraction on both sides. I’m not… sexually attracted to anyone. I don’t get aroused in that sense.” 

“Oh.” 

“And if that’s an issue for you—“

“Are you… boyfriend attracted to me?” 

The farmer tilted their head, baffled. “What?” 

“If you don’t want to have sex, and if you’re not ‘sexually’ attracted to me, am I boyfriend material?” 

“You don’t mind that I don’t want to have sex with you?” 

“Will you keep watching cheesy movies with me and sharing your wine?” 

“Well, yeah—“

I pulled them into a hug, kissing the top of their head before resting my chin there. “Then you’re stuck with me, darling.” 

“And you’re sure you’re okay not having sex?” Their question was muffled by my shirt but still loud enough to be heard. 

“Of course! If I get to spend time with you… I’ll be the happiest man alive.” 

“Thank you, Elliott.” 

“Don’t thank me. Thank the ancient condom in my wallet that kept me from ever making an awkward move on you. It might even be old enough for a sip of that wine by now.” 

“Liar. Let me see this thing.” 

I chuckled and pulled away from them, taking out my wallet and plucking out the condom to be handed over. I didn’t even feel the ridge in it anymore, honestly how old was it? 

“I’ve never even heard of this brand,” the farmer said while they inspected it. 

I nodded. “Pretty sure their factory went up in flames many years ago.” 

“Hm. Sounds like they didn’t protect themselves very well.” The farmer smirked and passed the condom back. “Thanks for being so understanding… I really appreciate that you’ve been so… not pushy.” 

Sliding the condom back into my wallet for no reason, I laughed. “Not pushy Elliott at your service, my dear.” 

They stood, taking my hand and dragging me along with them. “It’s late, we should head to bed.” 

“As you wish… and hey,” I stopped, still holding their hand and made them look back at me. “If I ever make you uncomfortable, just let me know, alright?” 

The farmer nodded and delivered a kiss to my cheek, their free hand coming to rest on my chest. “You have no idea how much that means to me.” 

“You will always mean more to me than sex, I hope you know that.” 

The sadness that flashed across their eyes was something I never wished to see again. I could only imagine how hard this must be for them, and relationships that may have ended because of it.

“My dick on the other hand… will be hard as a rock in the morning and I apologize in advance.” 

“Elliot, oh my god!” 

“It’s human nature!” 

They groaned and smacked my chest. “You ruined the moment!”

“How could I ever?” I laughed and scooped them into my arms, my need for sleep now stronger than ever as I carried them into the bedroom. “When I love you as much as I do!”I dropped the farmer onto the bed, both of us giggling as I crawled under the sheets beside them. 

They dropped their face into their pillow and sighed. “Don’t confess to me after talking about your dick. Tell me you love me again in the morning.” 

I leaned over and kissed their cheek, earning a playful glare in return. “Anything for you.”  I would make sure to tell them as many times as they needed to hear it. 

[byrdtrollsunoreversearchive]

Tragedy

“You’ll be at the academy?” She says, suddenly, as if this wasn’t part of the plan, fear dancing on her face. “You’ll be looking through the academy records?” 

“I’ll be fine. I can handle my damn self” You insist, know it was coming but bristling anyways. 

“Hanagi” she says, glancing down the hallway, hands gripping her arms nervously. “Let’s call it off. Let’s quit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You can’t- just let me do it! This wasn’t the plan” she says. 

“That limeblood you wanted to save so bad is counting on me! I can handle walking around a fleet building. YOU however are supposed to be dead.” You say back. “Your dad will be there the whole time.”

“There’s-“ Monark chokes. Glancing to the side.

“She’s gone,” You say. “She's not gonna hurt you. And she’s not gonna hurt me” You reassure. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she says, wiping her face. 

You stare at the highblood, losing her reasoning. “What are you worried about?” You ask. Bluntly. 

“In those files-Nandors account, there is” She breathes. “Footage of me. And things. You can’t see”

“What things?” You ask. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it” she stutters. “Just let me-“ 

“No, Bee, what THINGS” you hiss. “Because I thought I already knew the worst. Intimately, I thought I knew the worst of you. And there are more THINGS?” You accuse. 

She blinks back tears, unable to meet your eyes.

“Don’t make me say it” she says. 

“I wanna know what I’m getting into” you say stubbornly, brain dancing wildly with images of imagined transgressions bad enough to warrant such a reaction, hemophobia and murder and all manner of fleet awfulness, you wonder for the fiftieth time if you’re doing the right thing by being here. By aligning yourself with her. 

Monark gives a tiny hiccup into her own hand. “Please,” she says. “Please understand. I was so lonely. And young. And afraid. I wanted to be loved. I’d do anything” she sobs. You do not answer. Not ready to offer forgiveness when you’re not yet sure what you’re forgiving. In the ever cascading row of dominos that Twitch Monark was these past few sweeps, what does she consider her ‘first’ transgression?

.

.

.

.

.

She is shaking like a leaf. Quivering like a skeletal, crumbling, ghost of a girl. She does not look you in the eye. She keeps her hands together tightly clasped, like a prayer, or a soldier at attention. Her speech has been rehearsed in the mirror a million times. It does not make it any easier. She has to pause, and start over again, many times during it. Yet somehow manages to slowly move forward, it spilling out like a cracked safe that’s been held so tight to her chest for so long. A secret kept so deep, she had given everything to hide it. 

She had taken it literally to her grave. 

She had let her whole life fall apart to bury this in a locked box in the coffin at the bottom of the sea but whatever she’s trying to keep down isn’t dead yet. It’s knocking on boarded up walls and thrashing in the basement. It could consume her at any moment. It already has. As she speaks, your worries on whether or not she’s changed, whether you were wrong slip from you. 

She is the same girl she ever was. She has been since she was a child. Slowly, Monark tells you- just what exactly Elenor Nandor did to her. 

This is the part where she keeps speaking.

This is the part where I typed a quotation mark, but could not bring myself to actually imagine the words coming out of her mouth. Could not picture these as real sentences, could not make them quotable, could not step that close to this hurt. I hope you can forgive me for the subsequent lack of punctuation. 

She was nice to me, she describes. She told me I was smart. She told me I was strong. She told me I was talented. She gave me privileges the other soldiers didn’t get. She stopped in on my classes. More and more frequently. She called me to her office at odd times of the day. She said she wanted to tutor me privately. She gave me gifts. 

She made things more difficult for me. She said I had to prove myself. She set me up in fights she knew I’d lose. She hurt me. She told me I had beautiful eyes.

Bee describes to you, and your heart sinks into a desolate cavern, imagining what this must have done to the mind of awkward, socially inept Twitch, so desperate to be loved and accepted by her peers. So prone to paranoia and fear. There’s a tiny ringing in the back of your ear. A symphony of alarm bells whirring up at a funerals pace. As she lists through the red flags you can see crystal clear, but that young, naive cadet couldn’t. The pieces of a puzzle you didn’t even know needed solving falling together one by one, with a horrible methodology and precision. This answer is simpler, plainer, and crueler than you could ever imagine. You realize, with dawning horror, you already know it will get worse from here. You didn’t want to believe it could get worse than here. You didn’t want to believe the world could be more selfish and awful and fucked than it already was. 

But sometimes, something ceases to be a metaphor for something, and simply is. 

Sometimes, you start writing a story about yourself, and you do not realize it is a story about yourself, until the very end. 

Bee tells you, in detached, clinical terms, like a state mandated apology, she narrates with no tone in her voice, what Nandor did to her. In her office, in the training rooms, when Peonie left the room. 

And then she told me it was my fault, she says. That I had seduced her and acted inappropriate. That if anyone knew, they would be ashamed of me. That I was awful, and sick, and depraved, and they would blame me if they knew. 

And I believed her.

I wanted to tell someone, she chokes through a veil of tears. I wanted it to stop. 

But I was so scared. 

That I had done something wrong. 

And I didn’t want everyone to hate me. 

And I’m sorry. 

In a move utterly unlike Hanagi Cheong, you grab her by the shoulders, and pull her into a hug. Your powers buzzing with her emotion as her arms close around her, she freezes, and you feel a fraction of the guilt, fear, and shame Monark has been carrying for sweeps, a woman grown up around a knife in her back. You struggle to steady your breathing as the emotion crashes over you, trying to focus, trying not to get lost, in that gargantuan weight. A talisman that could drag you to the bottom of the sea if you let it. 

You tell her, just this once, 

“That’s not your fault” you say. 

“Listen to me- that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You choke. “She was manipulating you, and using you, and trying to keep you quiet, and what she did was unfathomably wrong, and selfish, and cruel, and you didn’t deserve it, do you understand?”

Slowly, she crumples into you, arms raising to hug you back, she cries into your shoulder. Softly, quietly. This tangled knot of distrust, paranoia, and self hatred, the marked scars of carrying this alone for so long are fresh within her. But as she falls into you, you feel the barest hints of a tentative, cautious relief shimmer at the edges of her mind. As she lets your words course through her. It is not your fault.

How many times?

Have you sat and watched the world destroy someone. Have you watched a system older than time erode away the edges of someone you loved. Hurt them. Hurt them irrecoverably. Hurt them deeply. Hurt them unfairly. Hurt them just because it can. 

How many times?

How many times?

How many times?

How many times?

How many times?

Six sweeps ago, you made a promise. I’m better than this. You said. I’m never gonna kill someone. I’m not gonna let it get to me. When the time comes, I’m gonna be the guy that offers a hand. 

And you kept that promise. 

A straw doesn’t break a camel's back. 

A thousand straws break a camel. 

Everything that came before it wore down the edges of you. 

A million lives destroys a person's soul. Your hands were gripped tight to the edges of that promise. Your fingers were breaking, holding on so tight to that promise. 

There is nothing the system can’t take from you. There is no forgiveness, it can't turn against you. It can’t use to hurt you. Because it was built to punish people who care. 

Like a sigh older than time. A breath you’ve been holding for ages. You let your hippocratic oath go. You exhale the ashes of the girl you used to be.

You give up on the dream. 

You stop believing, you will live to see a better world. 

It’s not giving up- 

It’s a truth you wanted so desperately to ignore. It’s not a reason to stop fighting. 

It’s a reason to fight harder. 

Don’t you get it? 

This…

…is it. 

This world, exactly as it is, is all you have. 

This painful, complicated life. 

This never ending gun to your head. This planet that is drowning, has been drowning, in a fight older than you, a fight that has taken trolls better than you. This place that is so broken- so deeply broken. This tangled, fucked up ball of hurt and pain and anger and greed. A planet that is drowning in blood. 

This is all you have. 

You get one whisper, one moment in the winds of time. 

You get one life. 

And life is hard. 

And it will be hard

And has been hard

It will be hard for your children

It will be hard for your children’s children.

You cannot finish the work. 

But by g-d, you are not exempt from it. 

This has always been bigger than you. 

This has always been hopeless out of your control. 

But you’re here, right now. You are alive. 

And you can do something. 

Right now, you can do something as simple as take another person's hand. 

It doesn’t matter if this is ‘enough’. It doesn’t matter if it will never get fixed. It doesn’t matter if you’re fighting for a happily ever after that might not come for 1000 sweeps. 

…It doesn’t matter if you’re fighting for a happily ever after that might not come at all. 

There is never an ounce of relief that is so small it cannot be shared. 

There is never a fragment of hope too minuscule to change a person from the inside out. 

Bee Monark wakes up feeling rested for the first time in sweeps. 

In the fading beams of the sunset, she drags herself out of bed. Brushing her teeth, 

washing her face,

bringing a comb through her hair. 

She is the first to make it to the coffee machine, the thing whirring as she flicks the power on. 

You are already awake when she makes it back to bed with a mug in hand. You are simply laying with your eyes closed. 

She gently touches your shoulder, rousing you.

And your hand fumbles for your glasses on the nightstand. 

You squint at her, reading her lips as you have not yet put in your hearing aid. 

“Hanagi look” she says, with a soft smile, tipping over her mug to show you.

“I got it,” she says. “I got it perfectly.”

[bumblingbabooshka]

Elieth.

_ “I apologize again for the inconvenience.”

“It’s fine,” B’Elanna said. “We’re both going the same way.”

The Klingon woman was walking with him through the quiet city streets. They were both on their way to the transport station and Tuvok had decided to walk rather than ride with anyone else. The fresh air would be…beneficial. 

It was surprisingly calm for a city at night. Even on Vulcan, nighttime was usually when the city came to life. Tuvok glanced up at the sky, looking for stars, and found only a swath of smooth black interrupted by jagged buildings.

“B’Elanna.”

The woman straightened. “Yes?”

“Have you ever heard the word pelrinah?” 

B’Elanna nodded. “Yeah, it’s Terrelian right? For gotcha.”

Tuvok narrowed his eyes. “Forgatcha?”

B’Elanna gestured but Tuvok didn’t know how to interpret it. He was still intoxicated and it was dark. He could only really see her in the lights from the businesses they passed.

“You know…um…gotcha! Like, fooled you.”

Tuvok blinked, turning forward once again.

B’Elanna smiled. “Did someone play a prank on you?”

“It would seem so,” Tuvok said thoughtfully.

“Maybe you should get them back,” B’Elanna suggested.

“I believe it would be in poor taste given the person in question is either in hospice or-” he paused, remembering that Terrelians did not have graves or funerals. He remembered the red bag. What did they do with their dead, if they didn’t bury them? 

“It just hits you sometimes, huh?” B’Elanna asked.

Tuvok tilted his head.

B’Elanna continued. “I’ll just be walking along, minding my own business and suddenly it’ll crash onto me like a ton of bricks aimed right for my chest; oh, she’s dead. He’s dead. They’re all dead.”

“You’re referring to the Maquis,” Tuvok guessed.

B’Elanna hummed in affirmation. “I know you probably don’t care about them but they were my friends. They were like family to me, really.”

“On the contrary, I believe that any loss of life is unfortunate.” Tuvok looked at the woman’s hazy profile. She seemed strangely energetic. From what he remembered of her she’d usually been somewhat agitated, frowning, she’d most often seemed…upset. Dissatisfied. He’d expected her to be even more so after ending her marriage to Tom Paris.

“Though I do not ‘care’ in the way you might feel is warranted, I do appreciate that their loss is not something to celebrate.”

B’Elanna exhaled, perhaps laughing. “Thanks Tuvok.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes and it occurred to Tuvok that they’d never really spoken like this aboard Voyager. There had never been any occasion for them to. When they spoke there had always been a reason or some sort of pressure behind it.

He stumbled and held out his hand to stop B’Elanna from touching him. She held hers up and backed away, watching him carefully as he continued on.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked after a moment.

“You are free to do as you please,” Tuvok replied.

“Great, well…” she hesitated and stilled as if considering whether or not she’d like to speak while sedentary but then began to move again, even faster. Tuvok kept up with her pace.

“Sometimes when I think of them it’s that thing I said before. The bricks and the sadness and the…the hollow feeling. Like, ‘what’s the point?’ where nothing has meaning anymore.”

Tuvok remembered the ex-lieutenant’s past troubles. Kathryn had been disturbed by her self-destructive tendencies and Chakotay had been frightened. Tuvok had not understood why a living being would intentionally seek to injure itself. In truth he still didn’t but he understood the mindset that B’Elanna was speaking about; the urge to do nothing, to stop and stay down. 

Unlike her however, he did not desire to feel anything.

“People get that,” B’Elanna continued. “People are sympathetic about that but then there are things they aren’t quite so sympathetic about. Like the anger.”

“Anger?” Tuvok asked, avoiding a puddle. It had begun to snow. It reminded him of ash.

B’Elanna shook her head. “It’s horrible but sometimes I think if I could see them again all I’d do is scream. It’d be all I could do to keep from wringing their necks; How could you do this to me? What were you thinking? Nothing in the universe was more important to me than your life and you threw it away for some ideal that never took hold.” 

When Tuvok didn’t respond she brushed her hair out of her eye. She’d let it curl a bit. “The ones in jail thought I’d berate them for being cowards. I said I’d rather be friends with a live coward than a dead idealist. Some days I don’t know if I believe that, others…”

The snow began to come down harder and B’Elanna sighed, muttering about the weather on Earth. Tuvok held out his hand and let a snowflake hold against his skin, melting slowly. 

“Neat trick,” B’Elanna said.

Tuvok wondered where Elieth was.

“Look, I know I’m getting all…” a frazzled hand gesture. “A lot with you right now but I just thought maybe you could use someone. I know you’re Vulcan and all but…the captain feels too guilty to even face you, Chakotay’s gone, Seven’s gone and the rest of them don’t really know what to say. I mean, I don’t either but…”

Tuvok turned his hand over and thought about the ashes sitting in an urn of T’Pel’s making. She had worked tirelessly for several days while Tuvok slept or attempted to meditate before sleeping once again. He remembered Wari’s effigy.

“It is important that I move past this,” Tuvok asserted.

“Your son’s death? I think even Vulcans-”

“You know nothing of Vulcans,” Tuvok said icily before lowering his hand. “I am not…processing my grief as I should. It should not be so…present.”

Several nights he had laid awake in bed, aching. The longer the ache lasted the more fright chased after him, attempting to devour him whole. He was frightened of how much he was grieving. Vulcans could not allow themselves to become victims of their emotions. It could kill them. He was well aware of this, having nearly died from the shon-ha’lock in his youth: the burning, being engulfed by the flames of affection. 

This was a different sort of engulfment. It was weighty and draining and whenever he slept there was a voice in the back of his mind that told him this time it might be forever and that always brought with it a…relief.

“You’re right,” B’Elanna said, voice slightly rougher than it’d been previously. “I don’t know anything about Vulcans or how you’re feeling- or not feeling right now. But despite everything, we’re friends. And because we’re friends I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever need anything.”

She looked up at a passing hovercar. Snow was sticking to her hair but it melted the moment it touched her skin. “...You’re a good father. You care about your kids in your own way and if I ever lost Miral I know it’d be the end of the world to me. That’s all I know. The rest I can’t imagine.”

She looked at him and quickly wiped her eyes, clearing her throat. She’d always been overly sensitive. “You’ve probably heard this too much but I have to say it. I’m sorry, Tuvok. I’m so sorry.”

“Elieth-” Tuvok started before knowing how he was going to finish his sentence. “I did not feel his death. He shut us all out from his mind the moment he decided to forgo evacuation. He did not leave his katra behind or it did not come to me. The ash Starfleet gathered for our mantle holds nothing of him.”

Tuvok’s eyes burned. He tilted his head. It felt as if he were observing his body from another, detached, perspective. He disliked the weak creature he had become since his experiences in the Delta quadrant. He had no control over himself. Though the world had stopped spinning he was still stumbling and acting like a fool.

“One moment he existed. On Deneva, within my mind, and the next he did not and there is nothing but…absence, to confirm that he lived at all.” 

B’Elanna didn’t speak but she stepped closer to Tuvok as he sat down on a bench. His head was in his hands. She was blocking him from view.

“Elieth…” Tuvok began again, voice low as the snow came down around them; the vigilant Klingon and the Vulcan with tears in his eyes. “...I wonder if he sang.” _ This is a snippet of 'Tuvok: Patron Saint of Love' which you can read in full as a member of my patr*on (any tier) or on my itch*io! I hope you enjoyed regardless!

[nerdieforpedro]

Day Twenty Nine - Brick House

Word Count: 624

Warnings: mention of past drug use, fertility issues, mention of sperm donation and clinics, false pretenses, Dieter might be a bit obsessed or a lot

Notes: I wasn’t sure where this was going. I read @fhatbhabie ‘s Dieter fic where he’s being a dad and @wannab-urs has me listening to all the Hozier for her challenge. This is where we are people. We’re on my second D which is Dieter, my first D is Din.

Main Masterlist / March Spring Prompts 2024 / Writing Challenges

A safe place for the both of you is what Dieter Bravo wanted. Finally in the spring, the house was ready. He'd studied your likes and dislikes, favorite colors, asked his assistants and interior designer to decorate according to what you wanted. He believed he had to make things perfect for you. Bravo is aware he’s not - far from it. He has numerous issues with drugs, the law, his career. Never stopping, never slowing down. Always moving forward and not always in a positive direction.

Never would he have expected your request. Dieter was aware of your search, your dream. It wasn’t uncommon but you’d convinced yourself that it would never happen. The doctor had told you there was little chance of it happening ever. Still you believed despite your fears. Dieter watched your perseverance in awe. The idea of you getting what you needed from some donor that you’ve never met kept him up at night. More than the last flop he’d made. It more than paid for renovating the brick house over the last eight months and he was willing to do another one if it meant that he could afford to keep you in that house on bedrest for the last month like you were supposed to be and get him some new oil paints from this one Italian supplier he favored.

You asked if he’d be your moral support as you went to one of the clinics, if he’d hold your hand as you went through the door. Dieter suggested that he could have a physical now that he’s been healthy for a good bit and give you a donation that was more likely to take. He swore that it’s the only form of support he would give you, besides being your friend of course. The clinic thankfully made the process feel ‘impersonal’ as you put it. Bravo knew the first try he was hoping it wouldn’t take, just to be able to have you again. Over two months, he only missed two ‘bun in the oven’ appointments with you and suggested some extra, you know just in case.

It was wrong. He should have felt guilty. Dieter did not and would not. He’d use this process to show you and himself that he could be relied on, constant, strong, like the house he bought you.

He’d gotten you to agree to put his name on the birth certificate and he had his schedule cleared for the most part so he could be wherever you needed him to be. In the room, outside, in the parking lot of the hospital.

Climbing the stairs and walking to the master bedroom he was able to talk you into sharing with him because, rubbing oil on your belly helped calm you and lull you to sleep after proper placement of pillows, he crept toward the door. Your sleeping form was rare to see during the day, among a mountain of pillows and blankets you’ve kicked off because you get hot then cold. Dieter watched your chest rise and fall softly, he had taken a few pictures and saved them on his phone of you at first but that wasn’t enough. Leaving to grab his sketchbook he’d need to draw it, then he may be able to paint this moment later.

This moment that despite the lies and reasons covered under the pretext of helping you with your dream, you were giving Dieter Bravo his - a family with you. Maybe you’ll be mad at him later or even laugh it off but after the baby is safely here, he’ll tell you everything. That you’ve been his ambition for years and regardless of people thinking he’s a scatterbrain, he can focus quite well - on you.