#i tore myself apart trying to be enough for you and i’m just.. not. so why would i be for someone ‘better’

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

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Chapter Thirty Three

My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared at him, my fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of the counter. A million thoughts crashed into me all at once, each one louder than the next, but only one question managed to escape my lips.

"How are you here right now?"

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes watching me with quiet amusement. He looked completely at ease, as if this wasn’t the most surreal, intrusive thing in the world. As if he hadn’t just waltzed back into my life out of nowhere.

His lips curled into the faintest smirk. “I flew in this morning.”

His voice. Smooth, deep, familiar in a way that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, like he had expected that question. “I wanted to see you.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. He wanted to see me? After everything? Just like that?

I shook my head, anger bubbling up through the initial shock. “Yeah, no. I don’t have time for whatever game you think you’re playing, so do us both a favor and leave.”

I turned back to the register, deliberately avoiding his gaze, hoping—praying—he’d take the hint.

But of course, he didn’t.

“No,” he said simply.

I froze. My head snapped back up, my eyes narrowing into a glare. “No?” I repeated, incredulity laced in my voice.

Jungkook’s gaze was steady, unwavering. He wasn’t smirking anymore, wasn’t wearing that smug, unreadable expression. He was just… looking at me.

My chest tightened, my fists clenching at my sides. “You made it damn well clear that you were only using me,” I hissed, my voice low but sharp. “So why the fuck are you here now?”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

His jaw tensed, his fingers pressing against the counter like he was holding something back. But then, his expression shifted—just slightly, just enough. A flicker of something I couldn’t quite place crossed his features, something I almost wanted to believe was regret.

But I wasn’t going to fall for it.

I scoffed, shaking my head again. “Unbelievable.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping an octave. “I never used you.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, really? That’s funny, because from where I’m standing, that’s exactly what it felt like.”

He didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, watching me like he was trying to find the right words, like he knew anything he said would never be enough. And he was right. It wouldn’t be.

I had spent too long trying to make sense of what we were, of him, of the way he made me feel like I was something, only to rip it all away the second it got too real. I wasn’t about to let him do it again.

I took a step back. “Just leave, Jungkook.”

But he didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned in ever so slightly, his voice low and deliberate.

“I can’t.”

My breath hitched slightly at his words, my body tensing as I processed them. I should have been furious—hell, I was furious—but there was something in the way he said it, something in the way his voice dropped, like it was heavier than he wanted it to be.

My lips parted, my voice unconsciously quieter now, hesitant. “What do you mean you can’t?”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing against the counter like he was debating something, like he was trying to figure out how much to say.

“I just… can’t,” he said finally, his tone rougher now, like the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

That wasn’t good enough.

I shook my head, my hands pressing into the counter to steady myself. “That’s not an answer, Jungkook.” My voice was sharper now, regaining its edge despite the lingering shock. “You don’t get to show up here after months of silence, after making me feel like I meant nothing, and just drop cryptic bullshit like that.”

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides, and for the first time, he looked… frustrated. Maybe even pissed off. But it wasn’t the usual detached arrogance he carried—it was something else.

Something raw.

“You think it was easy for me?” he muttered, almost to himself, before shaking his head. His eyes met mine again, and for once, they weren’t guarded. 

I scoffed. “You sure as hell made it look that way.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” I shot back, stepping out from behind the counter now, needing to put space between us but also needing to see him, to understand why he was doing this.

He looked down for a moment, pressing his lips together before looking back at me. And when he did, I felt something in my chest tighten.

Because there was something in his eyes—something torn, something conflicted.

Something that looked too much like regret.

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said finally, voice quieter now.

A humorless laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. “Oh, really?”

His expression darkened. “You don’t understand—”

“No, I don’t,” I interrupted, my heart pounding now. “Because you never let me. You just do what you want because all you want is control.”

Jungkook’s eyes burned into mine, his chest rising and falling with barely contained frustration. Then, out of nowhere, his voice erupted—sharp, raw, and laced with something I couldn’t quite name.

"What control?!"

I flinched at the sudden outburst, my body going rigid as my breath caught in my throat. My mouth fell open slightly, but no words came out.

I just stared at him.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight, his expression stormy. “I don’t have control over anything—not my own goddamn thoughts, not my own feelings, and not my own fucking life.” His voice dropped, still rough but quieter, like he was forcing himself to rein it in. “Everything i’ve ever done has been dictated by others and i’m so fucking sick of it. I’m so fucking sick of having to play by the rules so that the people around me are happy whilst I’m left to overthink about shit that no one else seems to care about. I tried to leave you behind. I tried to move on. But you know what?”

I swallowed, still too stunned to respond.

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You never left my fucking head. No matter how far I ran, no matter how much I tried to push it all down, you were always there.” His hands curled into fists at his sides, his gaze locking onto mine like I was the only thing anchoring him in place. “And it’s driving me insane.”

Something inside me wavered, but I fought it down. I crossed my arms over my chest, schooling my face into something cold, something detached—even though my heart was thundering against my ribs.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I asked, my voice sharp despite the way my stomach twisted at his words.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, his tongue running over his bottom lip as his hands found his hips. He looked away for a brief second, shaking his head like he was at war with himself. 

For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something—needed to say something. His lips parted slightly, but then he hesitated, as if the words were stuck in his throat. His hands twitched at his sides, his whole body tense like he was barely holding himself together.

His reaction only fueled my anger.

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “What? Nothing to say?” I taunted, my voice colder than even I expected. “No clever comeback? No denial?” I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing. “You made your choice, Jungkook. And now, you think you can just show up and—what? Say a few pretty words and expect everything to be fine?”

His jaw clenched harder, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I cut him off, stepping forward now, the anger burning too hot in my chest to hold back. “I was the fool, wasn’t I? The stupid designer who got played, just like Jade wanted. And you? You let her. You let me think I was nothing more than some temporary distraction while you went back to her.” My voice wavered slightly, but I refused to break, refused to let him see just how deeply his choices had cut me.

Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes darkening with frustration. “You think that’s what happened?” His voice was low, edged with something sharp, something almost dangerous.

I folded my arms across my chest, tilting my chin up defiantly. “I know that’s what happened.”

Jungkook let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Decide the narrative before I even have a chance to explain,” he shot back, his voice laced with frustration. “You paint me as the villain so it’s easier to hate me. And maybe I fucking deserve that. But you don’t even know the half of it.”

I stared at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Then enlighten me,” I challenged, voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Go on, Jungkook. Tell me how I’m wrong.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way he exhaled, in the way his fingers curled into fists before flexing again. He was holding something back—I could feel it.

But then, just as quickly, he let out a dry, humorless laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his tone.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered, searching my face, like he was looking for some kind of opening, some kind of permission to be honest. But instead of speaking, he did something that sent a chill down my spine.

He stepped closer.

Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough that the scent of his cologne—rich, intoxicating—wrapped around me like a memory I didn’t want to relive. My breath hitched, but I didn’t move back. I couldn’t.

I took a breath, steadying myself. “I’ve moved on, Jungkook.”

His expression didn’t change at first—just a flicker of something unreadable behind his dark eyes. “Moved on?”

I nodded, forcing my voice to stay firm. “Yeah.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, his jaw ticked, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“What,” he said, his voice low, dangerous, “with your fucking boss?”

I froze.

My stomach dropped, my breath caught in my throat. My lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Because how the hell did he know that?

Jungkook let out a bitter scoff, shaking his head. “What? No snarky comeback?” His voice was sharp, biting. “No denial?”

I forced myself to blink, to recover. “How do you—”

His laugh was humorless. “You think I don’t know?” His eyes were burning now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You say I don’t care about you, but here I am, thousands of miles away, still keeping tabs on you, even when you want nothing to do with me.”

My pulse was racing. I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. “You—”

“I what?” He took a step forward, closing the distance between us, his voice dropping lower. “I shouldn’t know? I shouldn’t care?” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto mine. “Too fucking bad, because I do.”

I swallowed hard, my mind scrambling to keep up. “That’s—”

“That’s what, huh?” Jungkook’s lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, wasn’t quite a sneer. “Crazy? Possessive?” He let out another humorless chuckle. “I don’t give a shit. You think you can just move on and pretend like none of this meant anything?”

My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh no?” His voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing. “So what, then? You just got bored of waiting and decided to settle for some guy who signs your paychecks?”

I felt my own anger flare up at that, my body tensing. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

Jungkook let out a short, bitter laugh. “Wow.” He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching. “You really think this guy gives a shit about you.”

My stomach twisted, but I refused to let him see it. "I don’t need your opinion on my relationship."

"Relationship," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re calling it that like it means something." His eyes flickered with something dangerous. "Does he even know you the way I do?"

I scoffed. "I don’t think—I know. You didn’t care to actually know me, Jungkook. You just wanted to keep me under control. The rules, the expectations, the way you always had to have the last word—it wasn’t about us, it was about you and whatever need you had to dictate everything."

His jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought he might actually acknowledge it. But instead, he let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "That’s bullshit."

"Is it?" I shot back, stepping forward now, the heat of my anger burning too hot to contain. "Then tell me, Jungkook. What the fuck do you even know about me? You never put in the effort to find out when we lived together, so what makes you think you have the right to act like you care now?"

His eyes flashed, something unreadable flickering behind them. "That’s not fair—"

"Not fair?" I cut him off, my voice rising. "You don’t get to stand here and act like you know anything about me when you never bothered to try. You just set rules, made sure I stayed in my place, and convinced yourself that was enough. But it wasn’t."

His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his whole body taut with frustration. "You weren’t just some fucking—project to me."

"Then what was I?" I challenged, my heart pounding.

Jungkook’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze locked onto mine. But he didn’t answer.

I let out a dry laugh. "That’s what I thought."

“Aylah I–”

Before Jungkook could finish—another voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"You need to leave."

Jungkook’s head turned slightly, and my stomach twisted as Adam stepped forward, his presence solid, unwavering. He didn’t touch me, didn’t grab my arm or make some grand protective gesture, but the way he stood beside me, the way his voice held that quiet authority, said enough.

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, the sharp edge of it making something uneasy settle in my chest. "Who the fuck are you?"

Adam’s expression remained calm, unreadable. "Someone who doesn’t want to see her dragged into whatever game you think you’re playing."

Jungkook let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Man, you guys love that word, huh? ‘Game.’ Like I’m just out here wasting my time for fun." He tilted his head, looking Adam up and down before his gaze flickered back to mine. "So, this is him? The guy you settled for?"

I tensed, but before I could respond, Adam spoke, his voice steady. "She doesn’t owe you an explanation."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Look at you. All protective." He clapped his hands together mockingly before shoving them in his pockets. "You got her all figured out, huh?"

My breath caught, and Adam stiffened slightly beside me. "At least I know how to treat her like a person, not something to control."

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor behind it—only cold calculation. He leaned in just enough for his words to reach Adam’s ear, his voice low and lethal.

"I’d watch your mouth if i were you, I can buy this café and have you sleeping on the streets by the end of the week."

Adam stiffened, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. He just held Jungkook’s gaze, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

Jungkook let the threat hang in the air for a moment before stepping back. His expression smoothed out into something almost indifferent, like none of this had even mattered to him. Then, just as he reached the door, he paused.

Turning his head slightly, he locked eyes with me, his stare unreadable yet piercing, sending a chill down my spine.

"I’ll see you around."

And with that, he walked out, the door swinging shut behind him with a finality that didn’t sit right in my chest.

I stood there, my heart still hammering against my ribs, my mind scrambling to process what had just happened.

Adam’s voice broke through the tense silence. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed, shaking my head slightly to clear the lingering weight of Jungkook’s gaze. "Yeah, are you?… What did he say to you?"

Adam hesitated. It was brief, almost unnoticeable, but I caught it. His shoulders squared, his expression neutral as he shook his head. "Nothing. Don’t worry about it."

"Are you sure?" I frowned, unconvinced, but before I could press him further, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Go home, AJ. Get some rest."

I exhaled slowly, nodding. But as I grabbed my things and stepped outside into the night, the feeling in my chest didn’t go away. Because no matter how hard I tried to push it down, I couldn’t shake the weight of Jungkook’s words.

I’ll see you around.

Jungkook’s POV:

The city stretched endlessly beneath him, a dazzling maze of neon lights and restless movement, but Jungkook barely noticed any of it. The vibrant skyline, usually a source of comfort or distraction, felt distant and detached, a blur of colors that failed to hold his attention. Instead, his gaze remained locked on his own reflection in the towering floor-to-ceiling window of his hotel suite, the faint glow of the city casting sharp angles across his tired features. His dark eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were clouded with frustration, his brows drawn together in a tight furrow as his thoughts spiraled in endless circles.

Dressed in nothing but a loosely tied robe, his skin still warm from the shower he had taken in an attempt to clear his mind, he stood rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as if physically holding himself together. Every muscle in his body was strung tight with pent-up frustration, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths, but it did little to quell the storm brewing inside him. The events of the night replayed over and over in his mind, each moment fueling his anger, his regret, his overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Then, as if the weight of it all suddenly became unbearable, he let out a sharp, guttural groan, his hands raking down his face before falling limply to his sides. His fingers twitched as he exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging slightly under the crushing pressure of emotions he had spent too long trying to suppress.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and edged with frustration, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t enough to encapsulate everything he was feeling—not even close—but it was the only thing that managed to escape his lips. The only thing that felt remotely within his control.

He was an idiot. A complete fucking idiot. He’d flown across the world to see her, to try and make things right, and yet the second he was in front of her, all he’d done was let his anger and jealousy take control. He hadn’t said the things that mattered. He hadn’t told her what she actually needed to hear. Instead, he’d pushed, provoked, and now? Now she was slipping further away.

His fingers rubbed at his tired eyes as he exhaled sharply, racking his brain for something—anything—that could fix this. What could he do? Buy her something? No, she wasn’t the type to be won over by gifts. Show up at her place again? No, she’d just shut the door in his face. Apologize?

Jaw tight, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to force his thoughts into something coherent. There had to be something he could do, some way to shift things back in his favor. Apologies weren’t enough, and words alone wouldn’t fix this—not after everything. He needed more than that.

His fingers drummed restlessly against the edge of the desk, his mind racing. And then, as if the answer had been lurking just beneath the surface, a thought took hold.

Slowly, his hand stilled. His expression hardened, resolve settling into his features as he reached for his phone. His fingers moved without hesitation, finding the number he needed. The line rang twice before a voice picked up on the other end, casual and expectant.

Jungkook’s grip on the phone tightened.

"I need you to do one more thing for me," Jungkook said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

There was a pause, followed by a low chuckle. "I’m all ears, man."

Jungkook inhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the phone. "I need you to get me someone’s phone number. You think you can do that?"

The person on the other end let out an amused laugh. "Give me ten minutes tops. Whose number we talking about?"

Jungkook gave the name.

There was a beat of silence before the response came. "I’m on it."

As the call ended, Jungkook set his phone down on the desk, exhaling slowly. His fingers drummed against the surface, his mind racing with possibilities. This was a risk. A long shot.

But as he stared back out at the glowing city below, he muttered under his breath, "This better work."

Jade’s POV:

Jade’s heels clicked sharply against the floor as she stormed into her office, her pulse already quickening with irritation. The tension in her jaw was palpable as she flung her coat over the back of the chair, her gaze hard and unyielding.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Her eyes were trained on the secretary, who was standing nervously at the edge of the doorway, her fingers twisting in her hands.

The secretary hesitated, her breath hitching in her throat. “H-He went to London, ma’am,” she stuttered, her voice shaky under the weight of Jade’s intense gaze.

Jade’s brows furrowed, her fingers curling into tight fists at her sides. “London?” she repeated, her tone colder than ice. The secretary nodded, her eyes darting downward.

“Y-Yes, he said he had some business to take care of.”

Jade’s lips curled into a tight smirk, but it was more a gesture of disdain than anything resembling amusement. She crossed her arms over her chest, the slow hum of annoyance settling deep within her chest.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll deal with this myself,” she muttered under her breath before addressing the secretary once more, her voice dripping with venom. “Get out of my sight.”

The secretary’s eyes widened in fear as she scrambled to gather her things, fumbling as she rushed to leave. Jade didn’t even spare her a second glance, her mind already shifting into a different gear as she took a seat at her desk. She crossed her legs slowly, her heels tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of the desk beneath her.

Her gaze flicked down to her hands as she rested them on the surface, the tap of her finger against the desk breaking the silence. She was irritated, yes, but she knew she wasn’t powerless. No one ever got the best of her, not for long. And Jungkook... Jungkook would realize just how much he needed her. He always did.

“London, huh?” she muttered to herself with a smirk, her eyes narrowing. She leaned back in her chair, watching the light glint off the smooth surface of her desk. Her mind was already working, a plan forming in the back of her head, a strategy for getting exactly what she wanted.

Without missing a beat, she reached for her phone, dialing a number she knew all too well. She brought the phone to her ear, her eyes dark and calculating. The moment the line clicked, she spoke with cool precision. “You better have everything under control.” she said, her voice cold and authoritative.

The voice on the other end responded with quiet assurance. “Don’t worry, I do.”

Jade’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was playing a game, and she was going to make sure it went her way. “Keep her in check,” she commanded, her voice low but firm. “I don’t want him slipping up.”

There was a brief pause before the voice spoke again, more assured this time. “I am.”

Jade’s lips curled into a slow smile, but there was nothing pleasant about it. It was the smile of someone who knew they had the upper hand. “Good,” she murmured, satisfaction threading through her voice. Her eyes flickered with something darker. “Oh and don’t forget, blood’s thicker than water. You get too close, and I’ll remind you of that. Your loyalty has its limits, but mine is unwavering.”

She leaned forward, her gaze intense, her fingers curling around the phone. “Finish this,” she added, her tone laced with finality.

Without waiting for a response, Jade ended the call, her smile lingering—cold, calculating—as she slowly leaned back in her chair. Her fingers drummed thoughtfully against the armrest, the faintest hint of satisfaction curling at the edges of her lips. Jungkook might have convinced himself that he was taking control, that he was running off to do things his way—but she knew better. She’d played this game far too long to let anyone, least of all a pathetic little designer, help Jungkook slip through her fingers. The pieces were in motion, and she’d make sure they both stayed within bounds.

[t34rdr0pz]

why do my feelings scare everyone away

[jamminvroomvroom]

adrenaline, baby.

ln x wife!reader

ahahaha i couldn’t help myself. wrote this at godspeed (20 mins) and i’m not even sorry. not my finest work but i could not care less this is peak brainrot (waving at you @lavenderlando). feral is the only word on my mind at this time. gg lando.

warnings: listen it’s porn with minimal plot. minors dni i am so serious!! 18+, smut, fluff, breeding kink, implied overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy, marriage, it’s just unhinged idk

your back couldn’t have hit the bed soon enough, touch starved bodies moulding into the cloud-like mattress. you’d waited all weekend to get him on top of you, and now that the stress of the race weekend had melted away, you’d been able to put the do not disturb sign to good use.

lando’s adrenaline rush had sent him feral.

he hadn’t stopped touching you since he’d been able to, practically dragging you through the mexican paddock, into the car, through the door of your hotel suite. he’d attended to his race duties and now lando had a wife to attend to.

six months of married bliss meant one thing: a lot of sex in a lot of places. you didn’t know how to keep you hands off of one another, proud of yourselves for making it behind closed doors this time. it meant you could take your time, that he could take you apart just how he liked to, and that’s what he did.

“c’mon, baby. need you nice and ready for me.” lando muttered into your neck, punctuating his words with a kiss below your ear. he had two fingers working in and out of you, curling deliciously against your walls. “did all of those overtakes, and then i did them again. now, m’gonna make you come for me again and again.”

he was a man, possessed.

a strangled cry tore from the back of your throat, zero regard for the neighbouring rooms as you fell apart, spasming into the white bed linen. lando didn’t stop, fucking you through the waves of pleasure until tears pricked your eyes and you were squirming away from him.

there wasn’t a second to recover, his curls tickling your thighs as he slotted between your legs, tongue lapping up the mess he’d just made. your ears were ringing, eyes squeezed shut, thrashing hard before your body dissolved completely under his touch. you couldn’t figure out where the pleasure started and where it ended, all you knew was that your second orgasm was approaching faster than lando has made up all those race positions.

“oh my god.” you repeated over and over like a prayer, blindly tipping over the edge, his tongue stroking your clit while his fingers coaxed you to your second release.

“i’m not done with you, baby. gonna fill you up again, just like you keep asking me to.” lando groaned, scaling up your body. you shuddered at his words, your body set on fire. it was a sort of given, at this point, that you were trying. or, to put it more accurately, not not trying. it did something to you, the idea of him letting loose, not a single barrier between your intertwined bodies, and he loved it as much as you did.

a litter of soothing kisses were placed up your throat, before he reached your lips, his own slotting over yours. it was messy, passionate, quiet whimpers being traded between you as he found his rightful place between your parted thighs. your legs were hooked over his hips, pulling him in, the tip of his cock painting over your folds. and then he was inside of you, slick bodies at one, and a switch in him flipped.

lando went deep, rocking into you like it was the last time. it definitely wouldn’t be. he could have left an imprint of your body in the mattress, holding you down as he ruined you. it was desperate, new urges unlocked in him since you’d started this new venture in the bedroom, no limits. you couldn’t keep up with him, letting him do all the work, just how he liked it. and you fucking loved it.

all you could do was clamp down on him, a beautiful mess at his mercy, his name chanted into the room. everything was hazy, nothing, there was only him and you. you arched into him, clawing at the bronzed, glowing skin of his lean back, eyes rolling in your skull at the way his muscles felt as they tensed under your touch.

“one more for me, baby, one more for now and i’ll give you what you want. gonna make me a daddy?” lando’s breath fanned your face as he spoke, watching with a smirk at the way you absolutely lost it.

you were sobbing when you came, the aftershocks continued by the way you felt him reach his own release. white heat pricked your skin and you collapsed even further into the bed, wrecked beneath him. you were grinning lazily, panting hard, eyes shut from the exhaustion. lando kissed away the tear tracks, residing inside you as you both came down from the high.

the air changed drastically, softer, intimate. he found your lips again, gentle this time, affectionate pecks reviving you.

“you okay, my love?” lando whispered. you breathed a laugh.

“you’re too good to me.” your voice was raspy, your vocal chords shot from a weekend of screaming his name in every possible context. “proud of you, honey.”

lando hummed softly, grateful for your praise. he scanned your face, an angelic glow gracing your features. his beautiful wife.

“gonna get you cleaned up.” he went to roll off of you, but your legs tightened around his waist.

“not yet. wanna stay like this for a minute.” your voice was laced with sleep, and lando couldn’t help but smile.

“this might have been the time, y’know.” lando’s words came out excitedly, unable to contain his delight at the idea of having a family. your family.

“and even if it wasn’t, i don’t mind the free practice.” you teased, but the giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something, and so did the test you took four weeks later.

-

idk what came over me idk what happened lol. bye.

[atlanticum]

A rundown of my favorite "The Queen of Nothing" moments<33333

• Does he have a new seneschal? Does he have a new lover? <…> Does he talk about me?…

• “Love is stupid. All we do is break one another's hearts.” I feel like Jude agreed with Heather at that moment:/

• “You,” I say to my twin. “Get out.” YOU GO GIRL

• “Locke is dead” LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

• The very thought of being there, of seeing Cardan, speeds my heart. Oh juuuuude

• "I knew you liked her," says Locke. "That's why I had to have her first. Do you remember the party in my maze garden? How I kissed her while you watched?" "I recall that your hands were on her, but her eyes were on me," Cardan returns. I FUCKING LOVE THIS

• "I loved him." "Sometimes I believed that you did, yes," Cardan says absently. AND THE FACT THAT HE KNEW IT WAS JUDE

• "Jude never loved Locke." "She loved someone else. He's the one she'd want dead.” —or in her bed who knows;)?!

• WHEN CARDAN SAYS HE’LL “EXAMINE” HER ALONE IN HIS CHAMBERS. Naughtyyy boy;)

• “Well, didn’t you get my letters?” “What letters?” THIS LITERALLY RIPS MY HEART OUT AND TEARS IT TO SHREDS

• "Jude, you can't really think I don't know it's you. I knew you from the moment you walked into the brugh." *Crying, screaming, throwing up*

• When Cardan tries to explain the exile to her and that it was all a trick that she was supposed to figure out and be proud of him, but he doesn’t have enough time… :(

• I am the Queen of Elfhame. Even though I am the queen in exile, I am still the queen. And that means Madoc isn't just trying to take Cardan's throne. He's trying to take mine.

• The fact that even when The Ghost betrayed her, when Jude found him she still wanted to save him!!! SHE’S THE BEST

• I'm not going to let myself get distracted by letters I never received or the way he looked at me when we were alone in his rooms or my father's theories about his weaknesses. I’m a tad speechless…

• WHEN THE ROACH COMES TO SAVE HER WITH CARDAAAAN!!! AND FOR HER HE LOOKS EVERY INCH A SPY FROM THE COURT OF SHADOWS

• “That boy is your weakness” OH WOW stupid Madoc is right about one thing. SHOCKER.

• Let Cardan not be shot. Let the Ghost be clumsy. Let me get inside easily. Let me stop him.

I do not pause to ask myself why I am in such a panic to save someone for whom I swore I rooted out every feeling. I will not think about that. Oh, sweetheart.

• “Do not touch her. She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile." CHILLS. literal chills.

• Cardan stands over me. <…> His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. My gods, i’m dying, he cares about her so much

• (about the gown)>> It is perhaps too plain for a queen, but Cardan is extravagant enough for both of us.

• “And the next thing we know, the High King is on our doorstep looking ready to tear down the whole apartment complex to find you” AAGHAHAHA I LOVE HIM

• “It was terrifying watching you fall. I mean you’re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before”

• “I was afraid of you when I had a knife to your throat” this tore my heart open

• “This is my room” he points out, affronted “And that’s my wife”. FUCK YEAH “So you keep telling everyone” the bomb says AAAHAH LOVE HER

• “Oh, I don’t know,” I say “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream”. oh he would “I would” Cardan says “And perhaps one day I will” I’M FOLDED.

• “Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game” he says “You may accuse me of much, but not that” oh boy

• “I offer my queen’s hospitality. The hospitality if knives” ah, yes, badass jude

• “You looked like a knight jn a story tonight” I’M ON MY KNEES CRYING. THIS IS TOO CUTE.

• “By you, I am forever undone” I AM SCREAAAAMINGGGGGG

• “My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned”

• “It’s you I love” he says “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours” ABSOLUTELY MELTINGGGGG

• I can’t believe he said that and then just walked out, leaving me reeling. I am going to strangle him. I adore her

• When the bomb hugs her once they see each other, when Cardan was turned into a snake.

• “Please. I will do whatever you want. I will give up the crown. I will make any bargain. Just please fix him. Help me break the curse” im gonna cry

• I was happy, just before everything went so terribly wrong. This is gut wrenching

• They won. Everything was going to work out. AND HE LOVED HER

• “I would settle for even his worst self, his cruelest trickster self, if only he could be here” THIS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERS AHAAHAHA

• The Ghost’s eyebrows rise, and he glances at me. I grin.

• Like the whole thing how the Roach is telling the Bomb that he loves her is hilarious and super cute.

• The way Jude thinks that she can never tell Cardan how she feels is so sad. If Holly black had actually killed him off I would have died with him.

• “With my whole heart, I wish Cardan was here” she is longing for his annoyance I CANNNOT

• WHEN NICASIA TOLD HER THAT HE SENT THE GOWN I WAS SCREAMING MY GODSsss “He never told you, did he?”

• “And I saw the way you used to look at him when you didn’t think anyone was watching you” AAAH YESSS

• He’s every bit as terrifying as any serpent. i don’t care. I run into his arms. IM ON THE FLOOR SOBBING

• He holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world. im absolutely dead in the best way possible

• “You don’t want me dead” “If you joke about this, I am going to—“ “Kill me?” I think I might hate him after all Thin line between love and hate, right Jude;)

• “I knew little else, but I always knew you” MY HEART IS EXPLODING

• And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again. MY HEART SQUEEZED IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY

• When Cardan silences Randalin when he interrupts Jude. You tell them KING

• THEY’RE CELEBRATING THAT THEY GOT MARRIED YEYYYYYYYYY

• When Cardan adjust his crown and she rolLs HeR eYeS and HE GRINS.

• To family and Faerieland and pizza and stories and new beginnings and scheming great schemes. I can toast to that.

i’m absolutely in love with these series🤍

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[ur-mom-did-69]

Did We Say Goodbye?

Nika Muhl x oc

Word count: 1.2k

I really really suggest listening to the song!!

The party, which was a big one at Nika’s friend's house, had turned out to be a bust right from the get go. The keg had been tapped out way too quickly, and the lukewarm cans of beer that were left over that hardly anybody wanted to drink. Added to that, the air around the gathering seemed thick with loud conversations and not enough personal space that everybody was trying their best to ignore. Cameron leaned silently against the railing on the porch, her cell phone clutched in the palm of one hand and a plastic cup squeezed in the other, which she had not drunk from in at least an hour. She sat in anticipation, waiting for Nika—or rather, she was just hoping that something would turn up, some sign that tonight was not going to end in utter catastrophe.

The night was deceptively calm, the kind that should have been perfect for sneaking off with your girlfriend to sit under the stars and talk about everything and nothing. But Cameron's stomach churned, a mixture of frustration and dread. They'd been fighting more lately, the strain of their schedules and mismatched priorities pushing them apart in ways that felt irreversible.

She heard the unmistakable and familiar hum of Nika's car before she actually saw it come into view. The sleek sedan pulled smoothly onto the gravel driveway, and for a moment, a wave of relief washed over her, bringing a moment of temporary ease. But as Nika emerged from the vehicle, her body language spoke volumes beyond any words. Her shoulders were stiff, and her lips pressed firmly into a thin line-clearly, this wasn't going to be a peaceful or easy conversation.

"Hey," Nika said as she approached Cameron, cool and clipped, without any hint of warmth.

“Hey," Cameron replied, with a hint of urgency in the sound of her voice as she promptly shoved her phone into her pocket. "I didn't think you'd actually come."

"You texted me five times," Nika said with one raised eyebrow. "I figured it must be important enough to warrant that much communication."

Cameron winced a little at the reminder. "I just… I really wanted to talk to you about some things that have been on my mind."

"Great," Nika said, crossing her arms in a gesture indicating she was ready to listen. "So, talk.”

The words did not flow so easily from Cameron's mind and out of her mouth. Cameron turned to Nika, who wasn't just her girlfriend but someone who had been there through the thick and thin, she was overcome by a deep sadness that tore at her heart. They once had a connection that seemed impossible to break, profoundly strong. Yet now, it seemed as though they were standing on opposite sides of a huge canyon, each one yelling into the vastness that separated them.

"I really don't know how much more of this I can handle," Cameron finally managed to utter, her voice shaking with emotion. "It feels like we're always either fighting with each other or just ignoring each other altogether.

Nika’s jaw tightened as she felt a surge of frustration. “You really think I don’t feel the same way you do? I’m literally killing myself trying to manage everything, including school, basketball, and our relationship. And every single time I make a mistake, it feels as if you’re just sitting there, ready to remind me of it.”

“That’s not fair at all,” Cameron shot back with equal intensity. “You honestly don’t think I’m trying just as hard? I’ve been waiting for you to make an effort to meet me halfway in this, but it feels like basketball is the only thing that truly matters to you above everything else.”

“Because it is," Nika snapped with frustration. "It's my future, Cam, the very thing that defines me. It's the only thing I've ever been good at in my life, and I simply can't-I won't-allow it to slip away from me.”

The words hung in the air, unbending, their tension tangible. Cameron felt the sting of those words deep in her heart, but she could also feel the deep pain lurking behind Nika's eyes. It wasn't just anger that she was seeing; it was fear and desperation combined, oozing out so powerfully that it was unmistakable. Nika was fighting for her dreams, and in that fight, Cameron found herself wrestling with the unsettling feeling of losing her girlfriend in the process.

The silence stretched on uncomfortably until finally Nika let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Look, I didn't come here with the intention to fight or argue. I just… I really don't know what it is that you want from me."

Cameron swallowed hard, the words hanging heavily in her throat, her voice emerging barely above a whisper. "I just want you, that's all."

Nika's eyes softened ever so slightly for a brief moment, but then she quickly looked away, her gaze becoming fixed on some distant point in the vast night beyond. "Maybe that's not enough for us anymore.”

The words hit her like a punch to her stomach, and she stood there for a moment, too stunned to react. Cameron blinked several times, her vision beginning to blur as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and run down her cheeks. "So that's it? You're just going to give up on us completely?"

"I don't know," Nika admitted with a heavy sigh, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I genuinely don't know how to fix this situation we're in. And honestly, I don't think you have a clear solution either."

Cameron felt an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, but despite the overwhelming urge to cry, she refused to let the tears fall. Not at this moment. Not in this place. "So what does that mean? You're simply going to leave us behind?"

For a moment, Nika stood in a daze, as though weighing her options and pondering the consequences of each choice. Then, as if after an eternity, she nodded her head slowly. It was a reluctant, almost agonized motion-as if the weight of this action was like driving the final nail in a coffin. "I think I need to," she said, her voice tinged with resignation.

Cameron stepped backward, crossing her arms carefully to hold herself in place and prevent her automatic instinct to reach out to Nika. She watched intently as Nika turned around and began walking toward her car, the crunch of loose gravel beneath her shoes loud with every step. The door slammed shut with a solid thud, and almost immediately, the engine roared to life in a surefire sign of her leaving. For one brief second, Cameron clung to the hope that Nika might turn around, say something that would somehow make everything between them different.

But in the end, she didn't.

The car rolled out of the drive with a soft rumble, blowing a thick cloud of dust all over the place, and kicked off down the road. There Cameron stood, frozen solid, her heart pounding loudly in her chest while her mind replayed all the moments of the night like a film on repeat. She could feel that she had seen something so deep in Nika's eyes; maybe it was regret, or at least a little love in them. And in those moments, it didn't matter anyhow. Nika was gone.

And as Cameron continued blankly staring down the void of the road stretching before her house, she suddenly realized, with the sinking feeling in her stomach, that she couldn't even remember if they had said a proper good-bye to each other.

[fanboyoff1]

Arthur Leclerc Lacy (900 words)

In case you don't know, I'm a bit of a sucker for angsty Arthur, so I made this songfic and wanted to share :p

Lacy, oh, Lacy, skin like puff pastry 

Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of h*ll? 

Dear angel Lacy, eyes white as daisies 

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?

Charles got it all. That was something Arthur learned from a young age. Charles got the game because he was older, the later curfew because he was responsible, the weight of both of their dreams because he would be better. And he was. And that tore at Arthur’s heart, because the only thing keeping him going then was that he was just as good as Charles. But that was a lie, covered in childhood naiveness and rose-tinted glasses.

And then, once Charles got everything both of them had dreamed of, Arthur finally got his chance, and could not top his brother. Which only affirmed that Charles would always be better. He was too good, too much. He chased after his dreams and got them, while Arthur lagged behind, barely a footnote in his brother and father’s stories. How it always was.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care 

Like perfume that you wear 

I linger all the time 

Watching, hidden in plain sight

Ooh, I try, I try, I try 

But it takes over my life 

I see you everywhere 

The sweetest torture one could bear

“Oh my god, you sound just like Charles!”

Arthur laughs away the comment, but it stings more than it should. Must everything come back to Charles, Charles, Charles?

It makes sense, of course. Charles got there first, rose through the ranks, and was just better than Arthur. Obviously he would be remembered more.

But it hurts. It hurts when people run up to take pictures and sign autographs with his brother while Arthur just stands there awkwardly. It hurts when his career is constantly compared to Charles’. It hurts when Charles stands on the podium, beaming with pride and joy, while Arthur watches from the sidelines. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

He was good, too. He knew he at least wasn’t horrible. But good wasn’t enough when your brother was Charles Leclerc. Good was never enough for anybody. 

Smart sexy Lacy, I'm losing it lately 

I feel your compliments like bullets on skin

“I am very, very happy to see him doing well.”

“I would want Arthur to be my teammate in Le Mans.”

“I worry about him a lot more than I worry about myself in the car. I just start to think of all the scenarios in my head of what could go wrong.”

“I’m very impressed with how much Arthur has developed as a driver.”

Why did Charles make this so much harder? Him with his constant praise and boosting of Arthur’s career, even when it was going poorly. It made it even more painful to feel jealous, to feel sad, when all Charles did was lift him up. He wanted to scream in his apartment room, watching these interviews that made him feel so loved and so lost all at once.

Dazzling starlet, Vettel reincarnate 

Well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

“Charles has been doing very well recently. What is your reaction to your brother’s success?”

How quickly a happy interview could turn sour. It’s like the people who make these questions want him to snap, to say how he really feels. That he is jealous, that he aches, that he wants what Charles has.

He knows how Charles will react, though. How his brother would drop all of his success to lift Arthur up. And Charles has been through enough. (Haven’t I been through enough as well?)

So he swallows the bile in his throat, plasters on a fake smile, and dishes out a PR ready response anyone on his team would be jealous of.

“I am extremely happy for him, of course. He has been working for this goal since we were very young. He deserves all of the things that are coming to him, and I will always be there to cheer by his side.”

Ooh, I care, I care, I care 

Like ribbons in your hair 

My stomach's all in knots 

You got the one thing that I want

Arthur didn’t hate Oscar Piastri. Quite the opposite, actually, they’d been good friends since they’d met in Prema. And he knew Oscar was good. He knew he’d earned his place in F1.

Not one, but two Leclerc's on pole today! But oh, how that stung.

Did they have to phrase it that way? He understood it was just a fun joke, and it was funny, but it was bad enough when Charles had said Oscar ‘deserves to be in F1.’ Now, he was stealing Arthur’s dream. His last name felt poisoned, by Charles’ fame and now this fake adoption.

He wanted to hunt Oscar down, shout at him, tell him to get this Leclerc dream out of his head, because Arthur could not handle it anymore. Why can’t it be me?

Ooh, I try, I try, I try 

Try to rationalize 

People are people but

It's like you're made of angel dust

“Charles Leclerc wins the Monaco Grand Prix!”

Arthur is at the front of the crowd, screaming his throat sore with tears streaming down his cheeks. Charles reaches him, hugs him, ruffles up his hair. And in the back of his mind, something in Arthur clicks. He can never tell Charles what he truly feels. All the jealousy, all the hurt. He’ll never be able to.

He can suffer in silence for Charles. He’s good at it. It’s all he’s ever known.

[imawreck]

Unsaid Goodbyes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: You should read it, then you’ll know.

Author’s Note: Heyyyy… I’m sorry okay 🙏 forgive me. Also, I'll be back on schedule with posting tomorrow, but for now this is all you get. Please, if you're interested, vote on my poll!

Warnings: Wounds, violence, shit ton of angst, Death

Word Count: 5,422

Max-

Hulk's roar rattled my very bones as I fought to find a way out of the cell. The solid wall of Vibranium-lined glass caged me behind it and refused to waver. I had no idea what was going on outside or why the security measures hadn't been tripped the moment that prisoner escaped as I pounded on the glass, eyes frantically searching for a weak point.

This glass was stronger than that of my cell, but maybe I could get through-

The thought died out of my head as an ache ran through my body from my side straight to my arm, resonating over my torso. No, I couldn't get out, not in this state. I was too weak. There wasn't enough time to take in what was going on outside the glass either, not with an enraged green giant trapped in a confined space with me.

Natasha's red hair caught my eye as another bone rattling roar tore through the cell. I stared wide eyed as she held her hand out, muttering something soft under her breath towards the enraged form of Bruce's alter ego. I watched in horror as the muscles of his massive shoulders flex before his arm raised, threatening her with a painfully abrupt death.

I moved as fast as my body would let me, my side screaming in protest as I made contact with her just in time to send us tumbling out of the way as Hulks' fist slammed into the pavement right where she had been standing. I picked myself of the floor, taking in the silver clouded reflection of Hulk's eyes, the way his body shook in rage and his lips pulled back in a snarl. It must have been the injection. Whatever it was, it had taken control of his mind, driven him mad with rage.

I caught Natasha's arm as she pushed herself off the ground to stand defensively next to me. "There's no use trying to talk him down, he's under some sort of influence. He can't hear us."

Just then he swung again, making us both leap apart as his fist once again slammed into the concrete, a spidering crack trailing up the floor as sprays of rubble shot across the cell. I scrambled to get as far away from him as I could. There was no way out of here, and if he got anywhere close to me, I wouldn't have enough energy to keep him off for long, if at all. Then there was Natasha. Natasha wasn't a super soldier, so if he got ahold of her, it would be the end of that. If Hulk killed her, Bruce would never forgive himself.

I couldn't let that happen.

I clutched my hands into fists, cursing myself for taking the time to change out of my tactical suit before coming down here. I didn't even have enough energy to grow a useful set of claws. So, I would focus on defense. All I had to do was make him tire out before I did.

I took off sprinting, sliding between his legs and clutching at the ground to bring myself back up again. Natasha trembled, looking as frantic as I was and put her fists up too. I called over the alarms, "Get to the doors of the cell! I'll distract him and see if I can't get him to bust out of the wall! Try and get anyone's attention."

The part of the cell level had a smaller cell that Bruce had turned into his personal lab after the experimental incident. He explained to me once that it was the safest place for him to be, because there was double the security measures. The cell would close, and there was a wall of glass and Vibranium that would encapsulate the whole half of the floor. And it had done exactly that. Little did we know it would bite us all in the ass like this.

I shouted over another angry scream from the Hulk, "Hey big guy, over here!" I waved my arms, running away from where Natasha stood wide eyed and gawking. "Come get me!"

The gigantic heap of muscled whipped in my direction, growling and grunting in frustration as he sprinted towards me with his arms raised. I jumped as high as I could, clinging to the metal exterior of the wall and heaving myself up towards the tall ceiling. I had an idea, but it was a big risk with my current state and crucial that his attention remained solely on me.

He tore up the wall hauling himself upwards after me. He was bigger, stronger, but I was faster. I kept at it, shouting down to him. "Come on dummy, you can do better than that." Each insult was rewarded with a shout or a grunt and an increased urgency to pummel me into the wall. I stalled once I decided we were high enough, turning to peer down at him and allow him to catch up. My chest was heaving with each breath I took, and my side sang in pain. "Come on Greenie, take a swing!"

Hulk clenched his fist in a fit of rage and leapt up a few feet, slamming his fist against the wall and denting it. I grinned, "You can do better than that!" I stuck my tongue out at him, dangling from a steel beam an uncomfortably close distance to him.

Once more, he swung his fist and I hauled myself up just in time to grip onto the next beam as the force of his fist rattled the wall. The metal groaned where he had hit, and I knew a few more hits like that would surely break through. And the quicker he got through the faster I could get Natasha and myself out of harm's way.

I swung my weight into the crater in the wall he had created, waving my arms and plastering on another grin. "Man, you can't do any better?" I was sweating with the effort it took to prevent my body from trembling at the exertion it took to maintain my posture alone. My strength was waning.

This time, he roared in fury and threw himself upwards, both fists raised to smash me against the wall like a bug. I leapt off the edge just in time, careening through the air and sliding down his back to land harshly against the ground. The landing vibrated through my legs and they throbbed in pain. Still, I forced myself farther away from his screams of anger.

Light streamed in from the whole in the wall, bright and hopeful. I smiled victoriously now, turning to catch Natasha's attention. Something slipped in through the hole though, slapping the ground and was followed quickly by another and another. I frowned, sparing a glance up at the hole where Hulk still clung near. Three distinct ropes slung through the opening and reached towards the concrete floor. I nearly cried in relief, hoping that my teammates were finally here to aid me.

The hope was quickly squashed the minute a black clad soldier slid swiftly down the rope and landed easily on the ground. Hulk didn't seem to notice him slip past, didn't even blink in his direction as he slammed his hands around the wall and continued to scream. The bright red emblem sewn into the front of the soldiers' uniform had my heart beating out of my chest and panic squeezing my lungs in a vice grip. My body took an involuntary step backward as I clutched my chest, fisting the fabric of my shirt in a weak attempt to reassure my heart it was impossible.

But he was right there, eyes staring at me through the ski mask he wore, and the ropes behind them slapped against the wall as more soldiers identical to him filed through the opening. Each and every one emblazoned with the ugly red skull of Hydra, and all of them hid their faces in those ridiculous masks. I continued to back away, fighting my panic and trying to figure out a way out. There were only three of them, surely I could handle three.

Just as I clenched my fists and readied to attack, two more slid into place at the mouth of the hole, blocking the only exit. They only moved to allow more men to slip down the ropes and join the others stalking closer and closer by the minute. Dozens of them.

"No," barely a whisper, "No, please no." I didn't realize it was me that had spoken until I forced myself to take a breath. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't be.

Hulk suddenly swung his head around as one of the soldiers spoke from the mouth of the hole, pointing towards me with a quick gesture of his arm. I watched Hulk mindlessly turn to me and drop heavily to the floor. His fists pounded against the ground as he roared out and took off in a charge towards me.

And I screamed.

The sound tore out of me, echoing over the walls and ringing in my own ears. I could feel the helplessness that had engulfed me. I knew that my body had met its limit, for I could only run a few feet before my knees gave out. Hulks form towered over me, and I scrambled away as his fist rained down on the concrete once more. Someone screamed from the other side of the cell, and it took me a moment too long to realize it was Natasha. She stood there, horrified and pounding against the glass of the cell. I could make out silhouettes of people on the other side, but the glare from the light streaming in through the hole made it hard to distinguish their faces. The soldiers stood scattered on the far side of the cell, hands on their guns as they watched the scene play out.

Hulk bellowed, distracted by Natasha's scream long enough for me to scramble onto unsteady legs. His body turned to hurl towards her, and fear was a living thing inside of me. He was going to kill her.

My muscles burned as I pushed myself with every last drop of energy I had, tearing past his towering form and slamming into the wall besides Natasha. I fought to stay on my feet as my vision sputtered and smudged with black spots. I blinked rapidly enough to clear them in time to turn my body, caging Natasha between my arms and the wall. The panic building in my chest tore out of me in another scream as I let the tears fall down my face.

It was like time slowed. I knew Hulk was only seconds away from hailing down on us, every nerve in my body was screaming and my instincts were pleading with me to turn and run. But I couldn't, not even for my dislike of the woman caged in my arms. She was important to people on the other side of this barrier, she was important to a group of people who saved lives. My face was inches from the glass, close enough to clearly make out the faces on the other side.

A red suit with an arm raised fired beams at the glass in a desperate attempt to break through, a figure weaving around people and attaching devices along the wall with a bow strapped to his back, and finally the crystal-clear eyes that stared at me from behind the wall right there in front of me. Those wide, agonizingly beautiful eyes. I couldn't help the wave of tears that poured from my eyes as I took in his face, saw the desperation written across his features as his voice barely met my ears through the glass. His hands were planted over my own on the other side as he screamed, begged for them to stop, for everything to just stop. But I knew what was coming.

I was going to die, and there wasn't anything to be done about it.

I simply stared at his face, forcing myself to smile just for him this one last time. Tears slipped down his face as his mouth moved in the same way over and over and over. 'Please, not her. Please, please, please...' I knew I couldn't be the one he was begging for, and it hurt.

But my time was running out, the few seconds I had were slipping by as my senses warned me of the oncoming hit. So, I held my smile and burned the image of his beautiful eyes into my memory, recalling his smile and the soft way he laughed. Letting the memory of his hands on my body flitter through my mind. My time with him had been the highlight of the century I had lived and suffered, and he would be my light until the end.

I pressed my forehead to the glass, letting my tears fall as a sob wracked me, trying and failing to think of anything other than the end nearing. I would protect Natasha so she could return to his side. If she was what he wanted, I would make sure I did everything I could in my last moments to keep her alive for him. I opened my mouth to tell him as much, perhaps finally confess in these last few seconds.

But my sentence never made it past my lips as the force of Hulks assault battered into my spine. I felt the impact, my eyes widening, before my bones shattered and all I felt was pain.

White, hot, all-consuming pain.

I watched vacantly as Bucky slipped from my vision and something cool pressed up against my face. I hadn't realized I had fallen until Bucky's face pressed against the ground on the other side, his mouth open in a cry I couldn't hear. But I could see his pain as it mirrored my own. I couldn't do anything but watch him sob and scream, throwing his fists into the cell until his blood smeared across its surface but he still kept trying.

I wanted to say something, to press my hand on the glass one last time and reassure him that everything was going to be okay even as the pain wracked my broken body. I could feel myself fading as I watched the black spots merge and expand over my vision, stealing my last glimmer of hope as everything was claimed by darkness.

_____

Tony-

I hadn't felt this helpless in a very, very long time.

I had tried and failed to get my systems back online, to tear my way through the wall just like the other two men beside me, but I had made this wall impenetrable. And I had never wished for something to fail so much.

Despair wracked me as I watched Max envelope Natasha against the wall, tucking her body away from harm and using herself as a shield. Bucky had begun yelling as he pounded away at the cell, screaming so desperately for Bruce to stop and get ahold of himself. His voice cracked and strained as he screamed, only stopping to breath in and start all over again as he put all of his effort into getting through to her. To Max.

But he couldn't. None of us could as we watched them on the other side of this god forsaken cell. We could only watch as Hulk's fist connected with Max's frail and battered body. Could only listen as the sickening crack of her bones echoed loud enough to reach us on the other side. Her scream would haunt me until the very day I died.

Bucky had crumbled with her as if it was him who had taken the blow too, pressing his face to the cold concrete and sobbing, begging whatever god watching over us to stop them. His fists clawed at the wall as the soldiers gripped her ankles and dragged her body away from the glass as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Bucky began pounding at the glass again, cursing Hydra through his cries and tossing promises of painful deaths.

I had dropped my arm after the overheat warnings began echoing in my helmet. There was nothing to be done, no way to get to her even if we could get out of the building and get around in time to get to her. They would be long gone by the time we managed to get everything back online, and they were smart enough to trap us here so I was certain they would cover their tracks and prevent us from finding them.

And Max was dead.

In a matter of minutes, they had gathered Max's broken frame up on a stretcher and hauled her out of the crater in the wall. Two men turned with their guns and fired at Hulk's looming form, littering several rounds of darts up and down his side before they scrambled up the ropes and disappeared behind the others. Hulk's body crumbled to the floor as he shrunk back to normal, out cold on the floor. Natasha still quivered against the glass with her eyes clamped shut and shaking. We were just left with the blood splattered on the floor and the consuming silence that always followed these kinds of things.

Bucky remained on the floor, sobbing and clawing at the glass. I had never seen a man so broken, so torn apart. I hated him once, but I had learned to endure his presence. I had once wished that he would die and pay for all the pain he had caused just as I knew he thought too. I regretted ever even thinking of those things as I watched him break apart on the ground. His very soul seemed to shatter with every broken cry that tore through his body, drifting away on every plea that echoed in the room.

Clint stood with his shoulders slumped and his eyes on Natasha. I knew he wanted to get to her and comfort her after what she just witnessed. He hadn't even had the chance to hack the security to reach them before the damage was done.

I had failed them, and I had failed Max.

The lights flickered back on and a moment later a body burst through the stairwell door, drawing all of our attention to the ragged form of none other than Cap himself. His chest was heaving and his shield was gripped in his hand as his wild eyes took in the situation.

Once he realized there weren't any hostiles, confusion spread over his face. "What happened? The lights and everything went out, I couldn't even get to Friday. And the alarms-." None of us dared to answer as another one of Bucky's sobs ricocheted off the walls, tearing Cap's gaze to his fallen comrade. He was taking hurried steps the next few seconds and dropping to the floor beside him, his arms hovering over Bucky's back and worry lacing his words. "Buck, Bucky what's going on? Are you alright?"

The soldier wiped his eyes on the harsh fabric of his uniform and clenched his teeth as he tried to compose himself, "They took her." Bucky's fists shook against the ground beside him with restrained anger and sorrow.

Steve's head shot up, "Who took who? What happened?" His hand finally dropped to Bucky's shoulder in a firm grip, an attempt to console him I'm sure. I could only watch in defeat as I processed it all.

Steve's eyes lingered on the fallen form of Banner, dragging over to Natasha who now sat slumped against the wall with a hollow look in her eyes as she stared at the cracked concrete below her. Then he studied the blood on the floor inside the cell, then the smears of it in front of his friend before he finally dropped them back to the Bucky. Bucky's knuckles were busted and surely fractured from hammering against the glass. Steve picked Bucky's right hand up and examined the bloodied mess before he set it back on the concrete to return his palm to Bucky's shoulder to wait for his explanation.

With pinched brows and agony in his eyes, Bucky met Steve's eyes and I felt my heart shatter all over again. He sucked in a breath, "Hydra infiltrated the Tower and shot Banner with some kind of serum and he went all mad, triggered the security section of this room. He..." Bucky bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, so hard I was sure when he swallowed it had tasted like blood. "He tried to attack Natasha, and Max distracted him long enough to cause him to tear a hole in the wall as he went after her. Max and Natasha were going to escape before the other Hydra operatives came in through the hole and ordered Hulk to get them. I heard it. Then he- he started going after Max and she was so weak, so weak she could hardly stand." Bucky's throat bobbed as he choked back another wave of sobs.

I clenched my fist, "Max gave her life to save Natasha and they took her body."

Steve just stared at me, "How did they get inside?"

I moved, shifting out of his view to allow his eyes to find the crumpled body of the prisoner we had taken earlier. Bucky had killed him seconds after Banner had been injected, but things had already been set in motion. "I'm guessing they used our prisoner as an inside man."

Steve's brows pressed themselves flush together, "That would mean the whole thing was a setup. They had been planning this deliberately." He shook his head, clasping his fingers in a fist. "I told you we shouldn't have taken a prisoner."

Appalled, I stepped forward. "Now is not the time for 'I told you so's. Max was just killed!"

Cap shifted his shoulders, "She was a killer!"

"Max was not a killer!"

Every head in the room snapped the the curled form of the Super Soldier on the floor. His eyes were trained on Steve with anger like none I had ever seen on him before, not even the cold eyes of the Winter Soldier had ever met the ferocity that I saw roiling in them.

Bucky's chest heaved a breath, "She saved those people. The people living in that valley, they're rebuilding their town with Tony's help because Max told him they needed it. Max got them out before she flooded the valley and saved every single one of them." His metal arm groaned against his grip, "Don't you call her a killer unless you're ready to call me one too."

Again, we all sat in silence as his words sank into Steve like a lead weight. I could see it in the way his shoulders sank and his eyes glazed over. He felt the guilt too. "I'm sorry, Buck."

"Save it," He snarled suddenly, wiping again at his tear stained face. "We all know you hated her anyways." Bucky pushed away from the floor and brushed off Steve's hand. "I'm going to find that jet."

"Barnes, you can't go after them alone." I stepped forward. "We just got back from a mission and you're tired. We can-"

"No. No, I want to find them now before they've gone underground and we really don't have a way to get to them." Bucky's eyes blazed as they held mine, "I want them to pay for this."

I sighed, "They will Barnes, they will, but we have to think this through. They just hacked my system and broke into the Tower like it was nothing. They lured us into a trap and then sent us back with a trojan horse when we managed to evade it. Obviously, Hydra has gotten some kind of upper hand and we have to remain careful." I hoped that he would understand, but I could tell that he wasn't thinking straight. Hell, I was hardly thinking straight. The image of Max's body hitting the floor continued to replay over and over in my head.

Steve remained knelt on the floor with his empty eyes set on the tiles while Bucky clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. Clint took to hacking the doors and I... I needed to reboot the systems. "Everyone needs to get some rest and we will reconvene for a meeting later tonight. That's an order." My words were empty, everything felt empty, but they had to be said for any one of us to be able to put our minds to finding those bastards.

_____

Bucky-

Thirteen hours, that's how long it had been since Hydra had obliterated any semblance of safety in this tower.

Thirteen hours since they had stormed in and murdered Max.

Everything felt numb, every part of me ached with the effort it took to simply walk or breathe, to live. I hadn't slept, couldn't. I knew what waited for me on the other side, the demons that would rear their heads and laugh at the misery I had fallen into. I knew that I would see her battered body on the floor, feel the desperation I had just hours ago all over again on a loop of torture.

So I remained awake.

I had retreated to my room, locking the door and refusing to see anyone while I tried to process what I had seen. I didn't want to accept that she was gone. Maybe it had all been just another nightmare and I would wake up any minute to her soft knock on the door and her voice filtering through that little sliver of light to ask me if I was alright.

I could almost picture it, the way she would smile at me in her oversized T-shirts she loved so much as she leaned against the doorframe. She was so small that her body barely filled half the frame. Her eyes, softer in the dim light from the hall, would warm my heart and melt away the panic that had held me. She would crack some witty joke to lighten the mood and scoot under the covers, never flinching when my metal arm wrapped itself around her waist. Strong and steady like she always was.

But I knew better. Max was angry at me, hurt by my stupidity and harshness. Trust was a fleeting an unsteady presence in my life, and I had let it take to the hills the second I doubted her. Max had never once hurt me and I knew, even in the past I couldn't recall, she had always been that way. Her purpose with the enemy had been to protect me and she had done it, and she had continued to do it even after they fell, not out of obligation, but because she had wanted to. She had been a friend, perhaps more, and I had let her die thinking that I hated her.

Guilt consumed me, swallowing me up and holding me in a vice grip. I couldn't even move, not an inch of me followed my internal pleas to get up and find her. My mind had convinced my body that there was no use in trying anymore.

I laid there in my dirty tactical suit smeared in my own blood in the darkness of my room. My feet hung off the end of the bed and my hair blocked most of my vision. Tears still fell from my eyes no matter how hard I tried to stop them. I wanted to be angry, I was angry, but the anger was nothing compared to the crippling sorrow that drowned my heart.

I didn't even flinch when Friday's voice met my ears. "Sergeant? Mr. Stark has requested for all Avengers to report to the meeting room."

I curled my fingers into a fist, the first movement I had made since collapsing on the bed. The stiff ache in my muscles reminded me of the very real circumstances I found myself in. "Tell him I'll be down in a few minutes." I needed to collect myself before I faced the rest of them.

Friday chimed in again, "You might want to hurry. The tower is receiving an incoming video call. The source of the call is unknown."

I shoved into a sitting position, eyes blowing wide. "What?"

"Mr. Stark is trying to single out its' transmitting location now."

My stomach dropped to the floor. I knew it couldn't be good, not so soon after everything. I took to the elevator as fast as I could, figuring since Friday was back that Tony had finally regained control of the Tower's systems. I gripped the sides of the elevator for support as it lowered me through the floors, finally releasing me to join the ruckus in the meeting room. Shouts of confusion and panic filled the air as I walked through the doors into the chaos of the team.

Everyone wore exhaustion on their faces, purple bags lingering under every eye I saw. On the TV monitor mounted on the wall there was an incoming signal, and all of the team were in an uproar of confusion. Tony was furiously typing away on the keyboard in front of him, the table having been turned longways so everyone could see. Each of us watched the screen with pensive eyes. I took a seat right as the video crackled to life.

The distinct lines of a hand were the first thing we saw as a man in a lab coat haphazardly adjusted the camera lens that went in and out of focus rapidly. The sound of metal clinking against each other echoed over the speakers as he finished fiddling with it and took a large step away to let us take in his face.

He was young, probably in his mid twenties, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He wore a blinding smile that sent an unwarranted chill down my spine despite the dim lights and the seemingly unthreatening appearance he sported. Something about the whole situation was off, but I didn't have much longer to analyze what was going on before he started talking.

"Hello! My, I must say it's a dream come true to finally meet the Avengers. I wish we could meet in person, but the circumstances haven't been exactly ideal." He gave a sheepish smile and continued with a disarming gesture of his arm. "My name is Roman Giles."

He waited for a long moment as if his name might hold some kind of significance to any of us. It definitely did not.

We all startled as he clapped his hands, "Well, anyways, let's get to the point, shall we? You took something that belonged to me several months ago. A certain weapon more valuable than anything else. Then several months later you stole another weapon. One nearly twice as important as the first. Can you guess what they were?"

The meeting room had gone deathly silent save for the heartbeats hammering in each of our rib cages. Tony finally cracked the silence with his shaky reply, "The Winter soldier and The Ghost."

Roman threw his arms up almost triumphantly, "Bingo! What an accomplishment." He bent forward and peered into the camera, "Hello Sergeant Barnes, enjoying your newfound freedom?"

I swallowed, the feeling like sandpaper. I didn't reply.

With a sigh, he stood again. "As you can imagine, the loss of our two most valuable assets was quite the problem. Our Fist and Shield had been stolen and we were left weakened. But, with a little bit of thought and recruiting, success was within our grasp once more." The smile he wore had soured, morphing into something wicked. "Your building has one of the most advanced security systems I have ever seen Tony Stark, it was quite impressive. Fortunately, we have an equally impressive team on our side and with your recent shortcomings in defeating Hydra's active bases you were just so eager for information. It was too easy to infiltrate your fortress, to get our weapon back from you. I would've liked to have you rejoin us Sergeant, but one of you will do just fine." He threw his head to the side and tossed an order in Russian, a moment later the distinct sound of a door opening filled the speakers.

So did the screams.

Tags<3

@hzdhrtss / @imdoingathingmom / @cjand10 / @calwitch / @blackbirdwitch22

[readyforthegarden]

Breakable Heaven - Part Two

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Synopsis: Being the maid of honor in your best friends wedding is already stressful enough without the best man being the ex-boyfriend who tore your heart to shreds. Stumbling across a dating app with dates for hire, you take a chance, inviting a perfect stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weeklong celebrations. But how long can the charade last when the champagne starts pouring and feelings start growing?

Warnings: drinking, talk of sex, mentions of cheating. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WC: 4458

“So now that we have our relationship history hammered out, are there any rules you have?” you asked, sweeping the makeup brush across your closed eyelid, leaving a pale pink in its wake. 

“Rules? Oh um…” Danny leaned against the table, already showered and dressed for dinner. You were sitting in your robe and hot rollers, waiting for them to set as you did your makeup. “Really I’ve never done this before. I was just tired of my friends ragging on me for being single, so I used this as a way to go on dates without the risk of being tied down.”

“Not a fan of commitment?” Danny shrugged at your question. 

“My last relationship wasn’t amazing. I just wanted to take some time for myself for a little bit, but they’re all partnered up and want to double date and feel bad leaving me out of couples activities.” he reached over, picking up one of your single shadows, popping open the top. He turned the small circular pod in his hands, watching the iridescent shimmer pick up the light coming from the windows. “They mean well, and truth be told, I do like dating, I just don’t want something serious right now.”

“I get that.” you nodded, following suit with the pale pink on the other eye. Danny watched you blend the pressed powder onto your skin before you picked up a fluffier brush with a slightly darker shade, blending it into the crease. “I’m sorry your last relationship was rough. You seem like a really great guy so far.”

“I could say the same for you,” Danny breathed out a small chuckle. “Yours was so bad you hired a fake boyfriend.” you paused your blending, glancing up at him with a smarmy look.

“Maybe we will have a fight and you’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I just mean that whatever this Gavin guy put you through must’ve been really hard.” you pushed your tongue against the back of your teeth, switching eyes again and continuing your process. 

“He cheated on me.” you finally mumbled, deciding Danny should know your background a bit in order to really play your fake boyfriend. “I came home early from a work trip, got a cab home to surprise him, crawled into bed, my bed, by the way, in my own apartment, and instead of cuddling him, I was cuddling some woman who was sleeping on my pillow.” Danny grimaced, clearing his throat.

“Yeah…no I think you win.” he said as you set down your brush. Looking up at him with a tight smile, you shrugged. Danny watched as your eyes fell, your mind swirling around one of the worst nights of your life. Without thinking, he took a finger, swirling the pad of it in the sparkling shadow in his hands before using his pinky to lift your chin up. “I think your look needs some of this.” he gently tapped his finger on your left eyelid before dipping back into the shadow and going back in on the right eye. When he was done, he had you turn towards the mirror, checking his handiwork. 

“I think you were right.” you smiled up at him. “Anyway, like I said earlier, I’m not trying to make him jealous. I just didn't want to face this alone. The pity looks and pats on the shoulders…no thanks.”

“I get that.” Danny closed the pod of eyeshadow, the plastic snap echoing in the room. There was a silence between the two of you as you continued your makeup, adding a thin black sweep of eyeliner across your lash lines. “I guess, no sex.”

“What?” your brows crinkled, confused at his words.

“The rules,” he set down the shadow on the table and folded his arms over his chest. “I guess having sex would muddle this business arrangement. Kissing is okay, it’s a part of the act.”

“Oh yes, of course.” you laughed, more at yourself for forgetting your own question. Looking back in the mirror, you began applying your mascara. “No sex.”

“That’s really it, I think…” Danny shrugged. “All other boyfriend duties are on the table.”

“One rule, should be simple to follow.” you agreed, screwing the top back onto your mascara tube and picking up your loose powder to set your face before swiping a nude lipstick over your lips. “Okay, give me five minutes for my hair and to get into my dress and we can head down.” Danny nodded as you got up from the table, leaving your makeup clutter all over it before turning on your heel and going into the bedroom, shutting the double doors and heading for the bathroom. 

Slipping off your robe, you took your dress off the hanger on the back of the door. The dusty rose satin slid over your body as you stepped into it, tugging it up your legs and torso, sliding your arms through the thin straps. You only got the zipper part-way up your back, but moved on to your hair, figuring Danny could help you. After carefully unrolling your hair and playing with it so the loose waves sat just right as they cascaded over your shoulders, you set it in place with some hairspray and stood back, taking it all in. Danny had been right about the light smattering of iridescent shimmer on your eyelids, making your irises pop from beneath your dark lashes. 

“Hey Danny?” you called out as you stepped out of the bathroom, towards the double doors. He was standing near the couch, fastening a watch around his wrist as you opened them, concentrating on not catching his arm hair in between the thick links of the band. “Hey, can you zip this the rest of the way for me?”

“Sure,” you stood in front of him, turning around and gathering your hair out of the way. Danny’s knuckles grazed between your shoulder blades as he held the top together. Feeling the other hand gently drag up the zipper, the dress tightened to your body more, and you let your free hand smooth it down over your torso. “All set.” he let go and you stepped away, turning back to face him. He had changed shirts while you finished getting ready, leaving behind the maroon button down for a black one, tucked into a pair of black trousers. 

“You clean up nice.” you smiled up at him, making him grin. 

“You do too.” he replied, stepping back to get a full view as you slipped into your heels. “Actually, no you need to change.”

“What?! Why?” you looked up at him incredulously as he just smirked.

“You’re gonna outshine the bride.” rolling your eyes, you leaned against the back of the couch, crossing your legs buckling the straps around your ankles. 

“Save the flattery for the party.” you moved past him once your shoes were on, grabbing the clutch you’d gotten to match and grabbing a few things from your normal bag, tossing them in. “Are you ready?” Danny nodded just as your phone pinged while you reached for it, Olivia’s name popping up above a message.

‘Gavin is here, heads up.’ your heart sank a bit, knowing it was finally here. You’d successfully avoided him since your breakup, skirting out of parties and events where the two of you would have to be in the same room as soon as you spotted him. 

“Are you ready?” Danny asked quietly. Looking at him, you rolled your shoulders back, putting your phone on silent and tucking it into your bag. You’d brought him here for a reason, and it wasn’t to shy away from everything Oliva, Mike, and her family had in store for the week.

“Yes.” you moved past Danny heading to the door and pulling it open with a little too much conviction, stumbling back in your heels as it swung into towards you. Suddenly a hand was on your waist, and you tilted your head back to see Danny laughing down at you. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” he assured you. “Now let me be a gentleman and get the door.” You let go of the handle as Danny’s free hand took hold of the door above your lead, keeping it open for you to walk into the hallway. Making sure there was a key card in your bag, you snapped the clutch shut just as Danny closed the door to your room. It was only the two of you in the hallway, yet he still slid an arm behind you, his hand resting gingerly on the curve of your waist.

You supposed it was in case anyone came out of their rooms as you were walking, and silently gave him a gold star for thinking about that. Especially with how warm his large hand was against the cool, thin satin of your dress. Reaching the stairs, you nearly whined at the loss of his toasty grip, but instead he took your hand, helping guide you down the stone steps in your heels. 

“God, you’re a perfect gentleman.” you laughed under your breath as he helped you down the last step. His hand stayed laced in yours as you made your way towards the vineyards in-house restaurant and bar. 

“I may not be here specifically to make anyone jealous,” Danny leaned down to speak softly in your ear. “But I can still let everyone know that you certainly upgraded from your ex.” A pink tinge heated up your cheeks as you looked up into his hazel eyes, and he gave you a soft wink. Entering the restaurant, you were greeted by the hostess, who led you over to the large banquet table towards the back, sectioned off by an archway from the rest of the large dining room.

“Oh my gosh!” Olivia squealed when she caught sight of you and Danny, running over in her bright white off-the-shoulder cocktail dress. A string of pearls rested along her collarbone delicately, matching the large studs in her ear. Her hair was now pulled back in a low bun, showing off her tanned and toned shoulders. “You look so pretty! And Danny, you look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” Danny smiled, smoothing a hand down his black button down. “I had to try and compare to her.” he squeezed your hand gently, tugging you into his side. You let yourself wrap an arm around him, hugging him and looking up, playing your part of the happy couple.

“Oh stop, baby.” you giggled. “You’re too sweet.” Danny just leaned down, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Both of you stop it,” Olivia jokingly said. “Mike and I are supposed to be the ones who are so sickeningly in love, you’re gonna make us look bad.”

“Can’t help it,” Danny laughed. “But we’ll try and tone it down.”

“I’m just joking!” Olivia waved her hand dismissively in front of her face. “Anyway, come on, they just brought out the hor’devours.” Danny kept his hand on your back, guiding you as you both followed Olivia to your seats. It seemed like you were the last ones to show up, the table nearly full. You temporarily departed from Danny’s side, saying hello to Olivia’s parents, thanking them for everything they’d done for the wedding so far. As you walked back to the empty chair, you noticed Danny still standing. You gave him a questioning look as he just smiled before pulling out your chair for you. 

“Do you think we’re laying it on a little thick too soon?” you leaned into him once he sat down, whispering lowly.

“If anyone asks, I’m just nervous and trying to make a good impression on your friends.” Danny whispered back. “Go with the flow, okay?” Nodding, you turned back to the table, noting your wine glass had been filled with a white wine during the small conversation. As you picked up the glass to take a sip, your eyes caught another’s. Bright green eyes stared at you from under light brown hair, unmistakable as you had stared into those eyes for nearly five years. 

“That him?” Danny leaned in close, reaching over for his own glass of wine. Tilting your head you confirmed it quietly. Danny cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair as he sipped the wine, his left arm coming to rest on the back of your chair. It took a moment for you to gauge, but you noticed that you were suddenly a few inches to the right of your place setting, closer to Danny’s side.

“Did you just-” you were cut off by a waiter reaching between your bodies, setting a dinner plate on the charger three inches to your left. Pan-seared scallops sat on a bed of mixed greens, a lemon infused garlic butter sauce drizzled on top with a side of pasta tossed in the same sauce. Mouth watering, you nearly groaned out loud when Mike stood from his seat, tapping the side of his knife against his wine glass.

“Now that everyone is here, I’d like to say a few words.” he began, smiling at everyone. “Olivia and I are so grateful to everyone for coming to help us celebrate this week. It truly means the most to us that our closest family and friends are here to support us as we approach our wedding. We have a lot of fun in store for you all, and Olivia will email out the itinerary to you all tomorrow morning. But for tonight, let’s enjoy our dinner, have a few drinks, and reconnect.” feeling a set of eyes on you made your skin prickle, and you attempted to ignore it, raising your glass with everyone else in cheers to Mike’s speech. 

Everyone was quick to tuck into their food, the scallops just barely steaming still on the plates. A low hum of general chatter filtered through the dining room, friends and vaguely familiar strangers getting acquainted.  It wasn’t until you had taken an entire forkful of pasta into your mouth that Olivia’s mom cleared her throat, directing her attention to you while saying your name.

“How did you and Danny meet?” your mouth worked overtime to chew quickly, but you didn’t need to worry, Danny was ready to perform.

“We met at a bar my band was playing at.” Danny answered, a grin on his face. “I saw her almost as soon as she walked in, and kept looking at her from my kit. I almost yelled at our singer to move when he blocked her.”

“You’re in a band?” Olivia’s voice was surprised, her foot coming to tap on yours from across the table. 

“Yeah, I’m a drummer.” Olivia turned to you directly, her eyes gleaming.

“A drummer?!” she mouthed with a wink, the tip of her shoe jabbing at your ankle as she winked and wiggled her eyebrows. 

“When we were done with our set, I lost her. I looked crazy going around the bar looking for her. I gave up and went to get a drink, thinking she had gone home, when the bartender set a beer in front of me and told me it was covered. I asked by who, and he nodded behind me and when I turned around, there she was, holding another one.” Danny’s left hand reached out, resting on top of yours on the table and squeezing gently. 

“We spent the whole night talking, I’m pretty sure his bandmates are still mad they had to take apart and load his drum kit by themselves.” you laughed as Danny shrugged, making a very unconvincing sheepish face. “Before we left I just knew I had to see him again, so I asked him to dinner and now we’re here.” 

“And how long have you been together, now?” Mike asked curiously. Shit, you hadn’t thought to nail down a timeline in your talks earlier. 

“Oh, um….” you floundered, looking over to Danny with wide eyes. He met you with a similar expression, his mouth open. 

“I think it’s about six months, now?” Danny’s face changed to look like he was trying to figure out a complex math equation. You nodded along, turning your hand around under his and slipping your fingers through the spaces, squeezing back.

“It feels like twenty seconds,” you smiled, keeping your eyes on him in case your lie wasn’t convincing. 

“Sometimes twenty years,” Danny laughed, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your forehead. It was something innocent yet still in front of all of those people, made you blush, a small flutter in your heart that was hard to ignore accompanying it.  More ankle kicks from across the table had you turning to Olivia who was grinning. 

“That’s how it feels with Mike!” she enthusiastically replied, wrapping her arms around one his, hugging him. “Like we’ve known each other forever and not long enough at all.” Mike copied Danny’s actions, kissing Olivia’s temple with a smile. 

“And Gavin, when is your partner getting here?” Olivia’s mom turned to her right, leaning forward to speak down the table. You couldn’t decide if you should pay attention to him when he spoke or keep focused on your plate. 

“She’ll be here on Wednesday, she had a few work meetings she couldn’t miss.” Gavin answered, and it was then you looked up, noting the empty seat next to him. 

“And when did you two meet?” Olivia’s sweet smile was gone, replaced with one that made you reach your leg out under the table and give her shin a swift, hard nudge.

“About a year ago.” Gavin sniffed, now doing everything in his power to avoid your eyes.

“Are you sure?” Olivia pressed. “I feel like you’ve been with Naomi for longer.”

“Liv,” you heard Mike express her name lowly, like a warning, and you stared at her, shaking your head as imperceptibly as possible. She and Mike exchanged words quietly with their heads together before she rolled her eyes and shot you an annoyed look. 

“It’s been a year.” Gavin confirmed quietly, glancing at you quickly then back to his plate. An awkward lull settled over the table until one of the other groomsmen spoke up, asking Danny about his music, picking the chatter back up.

After dinner, most everyone made their way over to the bar area, having a few more drinks before ending their night. Danny found himself leaning against the bar, watching you and Olivia talk to a few other bridesmaids. Something was happening that you were excited about, the way your eyes were dancing as you spoke, a smile on your face. 

He found himself thinking about how pretty you looked, how you were glowing under the warm lighting. Your waves had become more loose over the evening, cascading down your back, a slight frizz appearing from the humidity of the room. Your cheeks were still blushed with pink, more from the wine in your glass now than early when it had been from his pretend affections. How anyone could treat someone so stunning so poorly, Danny couldn’t answer. If you had been his, he wouldn’t do anything to risk losing you.

“Can I get a scotch?” Danny glanced next to him, seeing Gavin addressing the bartender, who had just set Danny’s beer bottle down. Gavin glanced at Danny, who was now focused again on you. “A word of advice, don’t get too attached.” It took Danny a moment to realize Gavin was speaking to him, and he decided not to even look at him when he replied.

“I don’t recall asking for any advice.” Danny hummed, taking a sip of his cold beer. “I will, however, ask you not to comment on my relationship.” if Gavin heard him, he acted like he didn’t, continuing.

“Listen, as someone who has first-hand knowledge, it’s just not going to be worth it.” Gavin shrugged. “She gets boring fast. I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did.” Danny set his beer down on the bar, and finally turned to Gavin, keeping himself level as the anger in his body radiated. Who was this man to speak about you this way, after what he did?

“I’ll say this once and won’t repeat myself.” Danny stepped closer to Gavin, who stood squarely, barely coming to Danny’s chin in height. “Keep her name out of your mouth this week. Do whatever you have to do as the best man next to her, but if I hear you talk shit about her, or do something to her, I won’t use my words to warn you. Got it?”  The two men stared each other down, or well, Danny stared Gavin down as Gavin glowered up at him. 

“Everything okay?” you broke the two from their showdown as you set your empty wine glass on the bar. Danny smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, planting a kiss on your lips. 

“Just fine, honey” he answered when he pulled away, smiling at your surprised and breathless expression. “Right Gav?”

“Right.” Gavin nodded, taking the scotch the bartender set for him and walking away as Danny shot him a glare.

“What was that?” you asked Danny, letting him continue to hold you. Danny tore his eyes away from Gavin’s retreating back, and down to you again, shaking his head and taking another sip of his beer. 

“Don’t worry about it.” he replied. Deciding to trust him, you shrugged and shook your head when the bartender asked if you wanted another drink.

“I’m actually getting really tired, I’m going to head upstairs.” Danny discarded his half full beer, nodding. 

“I’ll come with you.” Much like before, he helped you up the stone staircase, holding your hand to keep you from wobbling after your few glasses of wine. Once back in the room, you leaned against the arm of the couch in the living area, unbuckling your heels and tossing them away from you, one by one.

“Danny, could you?” turning your back to him, you swept your hair over your shoulder, showing him the zipper. Without a word, Danny moved to you, dutifully pulling down the zipper until the light pink lace of your strapless bra peeked out from the split material. “Thanks,” he watched as you moved towards the bedroom, going to change and closing French doors behind you. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you began to undress.

As you slipped out of your dress and grabbed the sleep clothes you had laid out, you called out to him. 

“So what did Gavin say to make you look like you wanted to launch him into the next decade?” you asked, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor, sighing softly in relief. Outside the doors, Danny leaned against the back of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“It really was nothing,” Danny tried assuring you. He didn’t want to repeat what the bastard had said. He wanted to spare your feelings after a hit so soon into the trip. 

“Danny, I’ve known you for twelve hours and I can already tell you’re lying.” you laughed softly as you pulled on the soft cotton sleep shorts and tank top, moving to the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth and your makeup remover. Opening the French doors, you rolled your eyes at a still silent Danny, moving around him and plopping on the couch. 

“He said he was surprised you two lasted as long as you did and that he got bored with you fairly quickly.” Danny kept his head down, not daring to turn and face you. He didn’t want to see the look on your face after a blow that low. 

“Huh,” was all you said, nearly forcing Danny to turn his head to you.

“That doesn’t make you mad?” you just shrugged, focusing on dampening your washcloth with makeup remover.

“I mean, I just think that’s rich, considering most of our relationship, he was a full-time unpaid intern and I was working two jobs on top of classes to support us both.” you scoffed, wiping your face with the washcloth. 

“Really?” Danny asked, unfolding his arms and turning around fully, grasping the back of the couch. 

“Yup.” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Well, I shouldn’t say it like I solely supported us. His dad gave him an allowance every month, and Gavin made sure we were stocked up on video games, designer sneakers and literally anything other than heat, water, electricity and groceries.”

“Can I please go deck him?” Danny sighed. 

“As much as I would like to say yes, and Olivia would agree, I don’t think she’d like him to have a black eye in her wedding photos.”

“What if I could promise to get a really great editor on those photos?” Danny attempted to reason as you shook your head. 

“Maybe during the reception.” Danny patted the couch victoriously before turning and going into the bedroom himself, closing the doors behind him as you continued wiping your face. Danny changed quickly, opening the doors just as you were ready to wash your face. The two of you moved around each other in a comfortable silence, until you ended up brushing your teeth side-by-side in the bathroom. It wasn’t until you were pulling back the blankets on the bed that Danny paused and spoke again.

“I can sleep on the couch still, if you don’t feel comfortable sharing the bed.” he stood in his pajama pants and t-shirt, slightly unsure.

“This isn’t the first time I’m crawling into bed with a stranger.” you joked, fluffing one of the pillows on your side. “I’m comfortable with it as long as you are. If it makes you feel better, we can build a pillow wall between us.”

“No, that’s okay.” Danny adjusted his own pillows, settling into his side of the bed. The two of you settled in, and you had to admit you were relieved to see that with both of you in the bed there was still enough room that you could stretch out and barely be touching the other person. 

“Goodnight Danny,” you murmured as you reached over and turned your bedside lamp off. You shuffled under the covers, getting comfortable, hearing him do the same.

“Goodnight honey.”

“Honey?”

“I like that name for you, when we’re with your friends.” you heard him shrug under the covers. “Is that okay?” you smiled softly in the dark, it’d been so long since someone had given you a pet name. Even if it was only a ruse, it made your heart flutter.

“Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

“Perfect. Goodnight, honey.” and with that, you and Danny drifted off to sleep.

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @gvfpal

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[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

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

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, I woke up feeling an unusual heat enveloping me, the kind that wasn’t just from a blanket or the room temperature. My eyes opened slightly, heavy with sleep, and it took me a moment to adjust to my surroundings. It didn’t take long for me to realise that I wasn’t exactly in the position that I had fallen asleep in, nor was I alone.

I blinked a few times, my breath catching as the details became clear. Jungkook was in front of me on the couch, his arm draped snugly around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. My body was pressed against his chest, his warmth seeping into me, and I realised that his face was mere centimeters from mine. His lips, slightly parted in sleep, were close enough that I could feel his soft breaths against my skin.

For a moment, I froze, completely unsure of what to do. My heart thudded loudly in my chest as I stared at him, my mind racing. Jungkook looked so different when he was asleep—his usual sharp and calculating expression was gone, replaced by something unguarded, almost peaceful. His long lashes fanned over his cheekbones, and his hair fell slightly over his forehead in soft waves.

I found myself staring at him longer than I intended, taking in the sight of him in a way I never had before. Why hadn’t he just left me on the couch after I’d fallen asleep? It didn’t seem like something he would do. Jungkook wasn’t exactly known for being considerate or thoughtful, yet here he was, holding me like I was something fragile that might break if he let go.

As if sensing my thoughts, Jungkook let out a quiet groan, his arm tightening slightly around my waist. My heart leapt into my throat as he shifted closer in his sleep, his hand flexing against me. Panic started to set in as I considered how I could free myself without waking him, but before I could even attempt to move, his eyelids fluttered open.

The moment his dark eyes locked onto mine, my breath hitched, and a silence stretched between us that felt like it lasted forever. His gaze lingered, still hazy from sleep, and I could tell he was taking in the situation just as much as I was.

“Morning,” he finally murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as if he found the entire situation amusing.

I felt my face heat up, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Morning? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow at me, the teasing glint in his eyes making my irritation flare. “What else am I supposed to say? Good morning, sunshine? Did you sleep well in my arms?”

“Jungkook,” I hissed, my voice sharp as I glared at him, trying to push his arm off me, but he didn’t move an inch.

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk unwavering. “What? I was being considerate. You’re the one who fell asleep on me. I didn’t want to just leave you like that.”

“Considerate?” I repeated, incredulity dripping from my voice as I stared at him. “You’re practically glued to me!”

Without missing a beat, Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, his tone entirely too casual for someone in his position. “Comfortable, though, isn’t it?”

I groaned, my frustration mounting as I pushed against his chest again. “Let me go, you oversized child.”

“You know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched me, his voice still tinged with amusement, “you didn’t seem to mind last night. You were out cold. I’m pretty sure you were drooling at one point.”

I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt to regain some semblance of composure. “I didn’t exactly have a choice. And for the record, if I’d known you were going to latch onto me like some sort of human octopus, I would’ve slept on the floor instead.”

“Could’ve been worse,” he replied with a grin, entirely unfazed by my annoyance.

“How could it possibly be worse?” I snapped, exasperated.

“I could’ve kicked you off the couch entirely,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening as he clearly enjoyed riling me up.

“Jungkook, let go of me.”

But instead of releasing me, his grip only tightened, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out another groan.

“Let’s just stay like this for a bit,” he muttered, his voice muffled but still clear enough to make my heart skip a beat.

“Stay like this?” I repeated, incredulous, as I tried to push his arm away. “Let me go!”

“Relax,” he murmured, his tone laced with irritation, though he didn’t budge. “You’re warm, and I’m comfortable. Just give me five more minutes.”

“Five minutes?” I hissed, glaring at him over my shoulder. “I’m not your personal heater. Let. Me. Go.”

“Nope,” he said simply, his eyes fluttering shut again as if the conversation was over.

I groaned, my frustration mounting as I struggled against him, but he was stronger than me and far too stubborn.

Jungkook’s voice broke the silence again, soft but with a weight that made me pause. “I sleep better when I’m not alone,” he murmured, his words muffled slightly as his face stayed pressed into the crook of my neck. His voice carried a sincerity that made my chest tighten, and I felt his arms subtly tighten their hold around me. “So, please, don’t get up just yet.”

I froze, caught completely off guard by his admission. He slept better when he was with me? Jungkook, the confident, self-assured, sometimes infuriating man who always seemed untouchable, was admitting something so vulnerable, so raw. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come.

Instead, I just lay there, my body stiff as my mind reeled. Why didn’t he sleep well? What was weighing on him? Was it stress from work, something deeper, or just his way of trying to manipulate me into staying put? Despite myself, a tiny pang of pity wormed its way into my chest as I imagined him tossing and turning alone in the night.

But whatever flicker of sympathy I felt for him vanished in an instant when he followed it up with a muttered, “Plus, your boobs are like big cushions.”

It took me a moment to process his words. My lips parted in shock as my brows shot up, my entire face heating in a mixture of indignation and disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

His only response was a low chuckle, his cheek brushing against my collarbone as if he wasn’t currently testing the absolute limits of my patience.

“You absolute—” I shoved him with all the strength I could muster, cutting myself off as his body rolled off the couch and hit the floor with a dull thud.

“OW!” he yelped dramatically, rubbing his shoulder as he glared up at me from where he lay sprawled on the hardwood.

The sight of him, sprawled out and wide-eyed like a child who’d been scolded, was too much. Laughter bubbled up before I could stop it, spilling from my lips in uncontrollable waves. I doubled over, clutching my stomach as I gasped for air. “Serves you right, you idiot!” I managed to choke out between giggles.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at me, a dangerous gleam flickering to life. “Oh, you think this is funny?” he asked, his tone low and menacing in a way that only made me laugh harder.

“Yes, I do!” I shot back, wiping at my eyes as tears of laughter rolled down my cheeks.

“Alright, then.” His lips curved into a mischievous smirk, and before I could comprehend what was happening, his hand darted out and clamped around my ankle.

“Jungkook, don’t you dare—”

But it was too late. With one swift yank, he pulled me off the couch, sending me sliding onto the floor with an ungraceful thud. “Jungkook!” I shrieked, my hands flailing as I tried to catch myself.

“Payback,” he declared smugly, his laughter mixing with mine as he watched me struggle to sit up.

“You’re insane!” I gasped, finally managing to prop myself up on my elbows.

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his smirk widening.

Before I could retort, I realised I’d landed right on top of him. My chest pressed against his, and our legs were tangled in a way that made it impossible to move without brushing against each other. His arms wrapped around me instinctively, and for a moment, neither of us seemed in a rush to untangle the mess we’d made.

As the laughter died down, the mood shifted. I looked down at him, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. His face was inches from mine, his dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip. His messy hair framed his face perfectly, and his lips, curved slightly in amusement, were so close I could feel his breath fan against my skin.

The world seemed to slow down, the hum of the house fading into the background as the space between us grew heavier, charged. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

His gaze flickered down to my lips for the briefest of moments before returning to my eyes, and I swore the pull between us was magnetic. I could feel myself leaning closer, drawn to him without even realizing it. His hands, still resting on my waist, flexed slightly, pulling me down just enough for my breath to hitch.

But just as our lips were about to touch, he suddenly smirked, the mischief returning to his eyes. “Your breath smells like shit,” he teased, his tone casual and light.

The moment shattered like glass.

I blinked, my jaw dropping as his words sank in. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath me as his grip on my waist loosened.

“You—” I slapped his chest, pushing myself up as quickly as I could. “I’m done with you!”

Jungkook’s laughter followed me as I climbed to my feet and brushed myself off, my face burning from embarrassment and frustration. “Don’t worry babe,” he called after me as I started toward the stairs. “It’s normal!”

I didn’t bother replying, throwing a glare over my shoulder instead. His grin only widened, his hand resting lazily on his stomach as he watched me retreat.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips despite my best efforts. Shaking my head, I muttered under my breath, “Idiot,” before disappearing into the bathroom.

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

The warm water of the shower enveloped my skin, soothing the tension that lingered in my body from the eventful morning of had. I leaned against the cool tiled wall, closing my eyes as I let the steam wrap around me.

When I finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, I felt marginally better. The embarrassment had dulled, but my thoughts still swirled with questions I couldn’t answer. Wrapping myself in a plush towel, I dried off and changed into another pair of clothes jungkook had left for me.

As I descended the stairs, the faint aroma of something savory reached my nose, pulling me out of my thoughts. My stomach growled audibly, and I realised I hadn’t eaten a proper meal since yesterday. The scent grew stronger as I approached the kitchen, and when I walked in, I froze in my tracks.

Jungkook stood at the stove, shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose gray joggers that hung low on his hips. His tattooed arm moved with fluid precision as he flipped something in a pan, his back muscles flexing with every movement. The morning sunlight streaming through the windows highlighted the definition of his body, making him look almost too perfect to be real.

“You can cook?” I blurted out, unable to stop myself.

He glanced over his shoulder, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I am surprised,” I admitted, stepping further into the room. “You’re, like, rich enough to hire a chef. Why would you even bother learning how to cook?”

Jungkook shrugged, turning back to the stove as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t like people invading my space,” he said, his tone casual but laced with honesty. “I like knowing I can take care of myself without having to rely on anyone else.”

I tilted my head, studying him as his words sank in. There was something about the way he said it that felt...raw. It was easy to forget that behind all his bravado and arrogance, there was a deeper layer I hadn’t quite figured out yet. “Fair enough,” I replied softly, leaning against the kitchen island.

He nodded in acknowledgment, his attention back on the pan in front of him. The air filled with the sound of sizzling and the occasional clink of utensils, and I couldn’t help but feel impressed by how at ease he looked in the kitchen.

“What are you making?” I asked after a moment, sliding onto one of the stools at the island.

“Nothing fancy,” he replied, plating up what looked like eggs, beans, and toast. Despite his nonchalant tone, the way he arranged the food was oddly meticulous, like he cared about every detail. “Breakfast of champions,” he added with a small smirk as he set the plate in front of me.

“Thanks,” I said, picking up the fork eagerly. But just as I was about to take my first bite, Jungkook reached over and snatched the fork right out of my hand.

“Hold up,” he said, leaning against the counter with an infuriatingly smug look on his face.

I frowned, completely confused. “What?”

He gave me a pointed look, his smirk widening. “Aren’t you going to thank me properly for the amazing meal I just made you?”

I let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking my head at his audacity. “Oh, of course. Thank you your Majesty for gracing a lowly peasant like me with such a luxurious feast,” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jungkook clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. “Funny but that’s still not good enough. I want a real thank you.”

“And what exactly does a ‘real thank you’ look like?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Instead of answering, he stepped closer, his smirk turning into something more mischievous. And then before I could react, he leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep kiss. It was so slow and confident that by the time he pulled away, my thoughts were a complete mess.

“There you go,” he said casually, placing the fork back in my hand. “Now you can eat.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me staring after him in stunned silence. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could still feel the lingering warmth of his lips on mine.

I stared at the plate in front of me, my appetite long forgotten. What the hell was he doing? Was he trying to mess with me on purpose? A wave of insecurity crashed over me, drowning out the warmth his kiss had sparked. Why would Jungkook act like this when he had someone like Jade? She was polished, poised, and clearly a better match for someone like him.

I pushed the plate away, my appetite gone. But I couldn’t sit here stewing in my thoughts any longer. I needed answers—from him, about Jade, and about Damian. I couldn’t keep letting my doubts eat away at me.

A few minutes later, the sound of the shower shutting off echoed through the quiet house, and I braced myself, gripping the edge of the stool as if that could somehow steady the mess of emotions inside me. Footsteps descended the stairs, and a moment later, Jungkook strolled into the kitchen.

His damp black hair clung to his forehead, and he had a towel slung around his neck. He’d thrown on a simple white T-shirt and black sweatpants, but they did nothing to diminish the air of effortless confidence he carried. He was unbothered, relaxed, as though he hadn’t just left me spiraling into overthinking mode.

His gaze flicked to me and then to the untouched plate of food in front of me. His brows drew together slightly. “You didn’t eat?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” I said flatly, my voice sharper than I intended.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied me. “Not hungry or overthinking?”

The way he read me so easily made my stomach tighten. I straightened my back, refusing to let him see how rattled I was.

“I’m not overthinking,” I lied.

He smirked faintly, shaking his head. “Right. You’ve got that look again.”

“What look?” I asked, irritation seeping into my tone.

“That look where you’re tearing yourself apart in your head,” he said simply, his gaze unwavering. “You’re easy to read, you know.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to let him sidetrack me. “I need to ask you something.”

“Then ask,” he said, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. But the way he leaned slightly closer betrayed his curiosity.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the edge of the stool. The question burned on my tongue, but I forced it out. “What’s going on with you and Jade?”

For a second, he didn’t react. His expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something guarded.

“How do you know her?” he asked, his tone neutral.

“She confronted me,” I said, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Told me to back off because you’re her boyfriend. So, I’ll ask again—what’s the deal with you and Jade?”

Jungkook exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. He glanced away briefly, as if choosing his words carefully, before looking back at me.

“Jade’s none of your business,” he said finally, his tone cool but not unkind.

“None of my business?” I repeated, my frustration rising. “She made it my business when she came at me like that. If you’re with her—”

“I’m not,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “We’re not together.”

“Then why does she think you are?” I demanded, crossing my arms. “She was pretty confident when she said it.”

Jungkook sighed again, the tension in his posture more obvious now. He ran his hand over his face, leaning back against the counter. “Jade’s my boss’s daughter,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady. “She’s...persistent. She thinks that just because her dad signs my checks, I should fall in line and do whatever she wants.”

I blinked, startled by the admission. “So, you’re saying she’s using her dad’s influence to control you?”

“Something like that,” he muttered. “It’s not like I can just tell her to back off without consequences. Her dad’s the one who owns most of the racing circuits I work for. Piss her off, and I could lose my job. My career.”

“That’s...” I trailed off, trying to process what he’d just said. “That’s messed up, Jungkook. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

He shrugged, though the motion was stiff. “It is what it is. It’s not ideal, but I’ve learned to handle it.”

“By letting her claim you as her boyfriend?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

His gaze darkened slightly, and he straightened up, his arms uncrossing. “I didn’t let her claim anything. Jade does what she wants. But that doesn’t mean I’m playing along.”

I frowned, still unsettled. “So, what am I supposed to think? She’s throwing all these accusations at me, and you’re just...what? Ignoring it?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might snap back at me. But instead, he exhaled slowly, his expression softening just enough to show a flicker of understanding.

“Look,” he said, his tone quieter now. “I know this situation isn’t fair to you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into it, but Jade doesn’t know how to mind her own business. I’m dealing with it the best I can, alright?”

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, I could see the frustration in his eyes, the weight of whatever dynamic he had with Jade. But on the other hand, I couldn’t ignore how caught in the middle I felt.

“I just want to know where I stand,” I said finally, my voice quieter now.

“You stand right where you are,” Jungkook said, his gaze steady.

The simplicity of his answer sent a strange warmth through my chest, but I wasn’t ready to let it soothe the doubts entirely.

“Alright,” I said after a moment, my voice steadier now. “But if she comes at me again, I’m not just going to sit there and take it.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched, his smirk returning faintly. “Fair enough. Just don’t get yourself into too much trouble.”

I rolled my eyes, but the tension between us eased slightly. It wasn’t the resolution I’d hoped for, but for now, it was enough.

“Now,” he said, glancing at the untouched plate of food again. “Are you going to eat, or are you planning on starving yourself out of spite?”

“I’ll eat,” I muttered, grabbing the fork.

“Good,” he said, his smirk widening as he grabbed an apple from the counter.

“Because if you don’t, I’m taking it as a sign that you want me to feed you myself.”

The teasing in his tone was enough to break the heaviness that had settled over the conversation, and despite myself, I felt a small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but at least I wasn’t in this alone.

Next

[fetishfairytales2]

Besties 8 (Story)

This was originally written as a continuation of a story by [no longer active] called Besties.

—————

"Ain't happening, piglet!" I scoffed, as I pressed the vibrator against the super sensitive head of his pathetic clitty. His eyes shot back in his skull, groaning and wailing in a combination of ecstasy and torment, wrestling with the restraints as sweat dripped down his flushed face. "But don't stress, Brandi, darling, we're just revving up!"

Preparing to step up his torment, I dipped my hand back into the bedside secret stash. "Well, well, well..." I whispered, charging the air with delicious dread. "Seems Mommy likes it when Daddy plays dirty, huh?" I plucked out the bondage tape, holding it in one hand while maintaining the vibrator's relentless assault. I tore a couple of strips and got to work, wrapping them secure tightly around his twitching, helpless sissy twig and the relentless vibrator.

I took a hot minute to soak in the pathetic sight of him. He was twitching all over, that sissy dick bouncing up and down as if begging for attention. The sheer desperation in his whimpers was just golden. "Aw, what's the matter, Brandon?" I spit out, smirking at his sissy ass. "Lost control, huh? Ugh, such a weakling." 

Back at it with the toy, pressing it against his stiff cock. "So, are you picturing Heather and Conner together now, huh?" I could see a look of dread and excitement in that sorry excuse for a man's eyes. "Unlike your sorry ass, Conner's showing Heather what a real fuck feels like!" His humiliation grew as I laughed at him. "That's why you're stuck here in diapers and he gets to fuck your girlfriend!"

I wagged my finger in his face, watching him moan deeper. “I swear, Brandi, if you dare to spill even a smidge of pre-cum, I'll fucking lose it on you." I put on my best bitchy face, smirking down at him. "You better behave if you ever want a chance to make ‘cummies’ again," I chuckled, mocking him with air quotes. "Got it, princess?" 

As Brandi there squirmed like a worm on a hook, I made myself comfy on the bed, resting my head on his pathetic chest. While he moaned and groaned in his pleasure/pain bubble, I geared up for some reading. "Heather's message time, sissy boy," I reminded him, winking.

"Damn, Heathers been a busy bee," I couldn't help but gawk at the flood of texts on my screen. Poor Brandi choked on his gag, wishing he was in Conor’s shows. The level of details in the texts I’m sure pinched him a little more. Boy, I was having a ball.

“Let’s see what Mommy says,” I winked and cleared my throat, doing my best impression of Heather. “‘Connor just loves how I’m a little cum slut for him. And the kinky shit he enjoys, oh my God girl! Like when I swallow his dick all the way to his balls," I paused, hooking Brandi with a wicked grin. “Apparently they’re trying new things too…” I stopped for a minute to build the anticipation in Brandi’s eyes "...anal. She says he drools over her tight ass, he just can’t get enough of it.” I tried to get as dirty as possible, wanting to tear apart Brandi’s heart and still swell his cock in it’s cage. “She wants you to know that while she would never, EVER, lower herself to let you fuck her ass, 'Daddy Conner can plow her backdoor anytime he pleases'!" I sniggered, empathy or pity miles away from my mind. Brandon's humiliation thrilled me no end as Heather's texts added fuel to the fire. 

"Got it, Brandi? This is what your sweet innocent girlfriend does with real studs." I flaunted the phone in my hands, detailing the fun sissy Brandi was losing out on. "She says she loves to be on her knees, worshiping his massive cocks. Her lips explore every inch, she says she would even rim his ass if he wanted. She says he's the alpha male, that she loves when he puts her on her knees, grabs her by the hair, and forces her to deep throat his massive cock. It turns her on so much when such a strong man is making her plead for him to jizz all over her face and tits.”

There I was, staring down at Brandon’s gross, ugly, sissy face. He had a disgusting mix of enjoyment tangled up with a last ditch effort to hold on to his long-lost manhood. "Seriously Brandi,” I rolled my eyes. You really thought you ever deserved Heather? Pathetic." This just about did it. I could see him getting as rigid as might be possible, his hands clawing white-knuckled at the bedspread. Poor sissy bitch was going to cum hearing about his girlfriend fucking another guy!

"Aww, relax, Brandi," I added in the very same sweet voice, holding his gaze like he was on a leash. "Guess what? Your sexy ass girlfriend has gotten lucky. She’s on to bigger and better things! Now she’s Conner's fucktoy.” I laughed; No shit sissy, how great is that? A serious improvement from the nightmare of your worthless ass humping on top of her for 30 seconds before spooging your sissy goo on her belly. She gets off every single time with him, can you believe that? Heather told me that you had never given her a single orgasm.” I leaned in, licking a tear from his cheek, loving how destroyed he looked. “She had nothing but lousy, fake moans for you every single time! You can't hold a candle to a real man like Conner, can you?" My lips curled in a wild smirk, and I could sense his orgasm coming quickly. "Heather owns you, but guess what? Conner fucking owns her. Guess that means you’re both his bitches!”

God, the loser was quaking like a leaf and his pitiful excuse for a dick was throbbing pathetically. "Got a problem, sissy Brandi?" I teased. The poor thing nearly creamed his Pampers hearing about how Heather had turned him into a cuck. I pressed up against him, my chest smothering his face while my hand held that buzzing toy against his sad little sissy clit. 

He was like a puppet on my string, his body jerked on the brink of the sissygasm. The loser's eyes were bugging out of his skull - a hilarious sight as he suffered. "Come on, what’s the issue sissy?" I taunted, close enough to feel his pathetic panting against my skin. My own arousal was spiking as I got more wicked by the second. Licking his ear, my other hand sneaked into my panties, feeling extra naughty. Humiliating Brandon was pure ecstasy, sending thrilling shivers straight down to my swollen clit. I wanted to overpower him completely, make him crumble entirely.

“Mmm,” I moaned as I played with my clit, taking my hand out of my panties, my fingers slick with my own arasal. I ran my wet fingers over Brandon’s face and through his hair. “That’s it Sissy!” I cooed. "Cum for me, Brandi-Baby, let it all go," My voice was sugar sweet as I coaxed it out of him. Hah! As if that pathetic fool could ever cum like a real man. He was so close to losing it, his pleasure-painted face teetering on the edge of orgasm. "Show me what a tough guy you are, cum for your sweet cuckysitter!” I taunted, the thought of him caving to my demands making me even hotter. Turns out, there's nothing quite as amazing as taking a cocky jerk and grinding him down into a subservient, simping, and squirming sissy

"Ugh, Brandon, you pathetic loser!" I sneered down at him, watching his spunk settle in his nappy - still trickling out from his puny pecker. "Really, Brandi? Getting your sick kicks from hearing stories about your gal getting down with a real man?" I hopped off his chest, plonking myself beside the shrunken sissy. I dipped a finger in his loser puddle, taunting him with the evidence. "Aw, look! You're just a sick, messed up little cucky, aren't ya, girlie?" My sadistic grin was unshakeable as I saw the panic flash of humiliation across his face. "Ahh, sweetie, you're going to have to be punished now," I chuckled, his dread washing over his face. "Should've listened to Ms. Lyndsey when she told you not to spunk everywhere, ya helpless slut!"

[writing-by-lunalight]

A/N: So for months I've been reading lots and lots of Yuri manga, probably more than I've ever read before in my life too…So I decided to try my hand at writing my own. Though it’s more of a novel, since I don’t draw, and I’ve attempted to be as faithful to the media as I can. LoveHarmful is my own take on the Yuri genre while playing to a specific kink, you’ll have to read on to find out which one though hehe. At the time of posting this I’m working on chapter 8 and my goal is get this to 20 chapters without dropping it or losing interest…so STAY TUNED!!

Chapter: (1)/2/3/4/Coming Soon!

!!Trigger Warnings!!

Consensual: Smoking, Burning(w/ cigarette)

Non-Consensual: None

—————————————————

[I understand this is a lot to ask of you but, I’m hoping you can work your magic here. ]

[Work my…magic? ]

[Don’t be so modest, not only are you class president, but you’ve managed to turn around all the troublemakers in your class. If anyone can get through to Shigure-San I’m certain it’s you, I want to be able to resolve this amicably, I’m worried about her. At any rate, you shouldn’t believe the rumors, she’s far more bark than bite.]

I agreed to this despite my reservations, but what was I thinking? Work my magic? All I did was talk to my classmates and help them vent their troubles from home, support their studying, then they improved on their own. But this?

Seiko Shigure is beyond being a troubled student…they say she’s insane! Always wearing this dark makeup, skipping class, showing up late, and that's not even half of it! I even heard she wears costume horns everywhere, does she think she’s a fantasy creature? UGH! Hard to believe she’s a 3rd year…I wish I could REALLY teach her a lesson. But talking it out and a slap on the wrist is what everyone wants me to do - what they expect, so I have to.

Still, just once, I’d love to really let loose on somebody.

From a young age, I always tore my toys apart, I wanted to see what was inside them and whats more I enjoyed it so so much. Yet my parents would get upset with me, and eventually convinced me to stop breaking things, it’s not normal they’d tell me. Though it pained me to stop, I didn’t want to hurt or upset anyone, not that much anyways. When I gained access to a computer of my own, I learned there was a name for people like me, a sadist. It made me feel relieved I wasn’t the only one who felt that way, but what hope could I have for an outlet? I have to be nice, I have to be good, I have to keep. It. In.

I said to myself, though at the same time I became aware of my nails digging into the back of my notebook I clutched in my arms. I sighed and released my grip, the small access stairwell looking back at me, I took my first step upwards. In the silence of the third floor hallway, each step echoed down the empty halls until I reached the roof door. With a sigh, I opened the door, only to be hit with an unfamiliar smell as the wind drifted past me into the building. Quickly I discovered the source, smoke coming from the tip of Shigure-Senpai’s cigarette, she failed to notice my entrance onto the roof. 

I approached quietly, not wanting to startle her for fear of reprisal. Shigure-Senpai sat with her back against the fence, one leg outstretched and her other tucked in with her knee up, supporting her arm and hand which held the cigarette burning away. On her wrists spiked bracelets hung loosely, made of shiny leather or perhaps plastic. As I neared I spoke up, clearing my throat first to call attention to myself.

[You’re Shigure-Senpai, correct?]

I tilted my head when she did not answer, only to notice the faint sound of snoring coming from her slumped down head. Really? As though it wasn’t bad enough to wear things besides the uniform, skip class, AND smoke on school grounds??

My face twisted into a pout, and I looked at her fake horns in anger, such a whimsical accessory for such a joke of a girl. Still, as I crouched down to see her face, I could see she was rather pretty. Her eyes had dark rings below them which I guess people mistook for makeup alone, but it’s clear up close she’s only tried to make it look that way. Her brow furled in frustration, perhaps due to a bad dream or some such, a frown falling across her pursed lips.

I held my cheeks in my hands and allowed myself to ponder how Shigure-Senpai’s face would look under real life duress instead of a nightmare. How would her screams sound? Would she lower herself to begging if it got to be too much? Or would she tough it out, and put on a brave face till she REALLY broke? I felt my face blush and my smile crawl across it as I thought about it in excruciating detail.

Just then, the ash fell off Shigure-Senpai’s cigarette and onto her thigh just below the hem of her skirt, causing her to jolt awake with a shrill cry and. . .a moan?? Her heavy breathing afterwards confirmed my suspicions, Shigure-Senpai collected herself and rubbed her eyes before looking up to see me in shock. Her brilliant sapphire eyes, shimmering against the sunlight and contrasting the blushed skin of her face looked up at me with embarrassment, yet her gaze quickly shifted to one of confusion. 

[Odd way to react to a burn.] 

I chided her, my desire to poke fun at her overwhelming my sense of reason.

[Odd way to stare at someone who’s sleeping.]

I looked away suddenly in a panic realizing I was still blushing, I-i hadn’t still been smiling at her though had I?

[Hey wait, you’re Meisa Enya-Sama aren’t you? What are you doing up here?]

[Sama? I’m only a 2nd year you know and student like you, San is more appropriate.]]

[Well still-]

Shigure-Senpai lit a new cigarette and got to her feet, taking a quick drag of it before exhaling away from me, which I found surprising given her reputation. She turned back to me and smiled, though I was still viewing her from a side glance as I calmed down.

[You’re a real go-getter from what I hear, the most impressive girl in school they say, and you certainly have better grades than I do. So Sama seems just fine given your status, don’t you think?]

Just as I’d managed to relax, I felt my cheeks blushing again,  even though it’s all true why was she praising me so much anyways?

[So, Enya-Sama, whats a girl like you doing up here, skipping class?]

[I…just wanted to talk.]

[To talk?]

[Mhm.]

[So, which of my senseis put you up to this?]

I didn’t reply, I instead flicked my gaze in the opposite direction, trying to think of where to steer the conversation. Maybe become more familiar first? Just try to play off what she asked and change the subject?

[You’re uncomfortable, I get it, even if someone asked you to speak with me it could still do a number on your reputation to see us together. But hey, let me ask you something else instead?]

[...alright?]

[It must be insufferable right? Dealing with that kind of pressure from everyone, having to be so perfect all the time, it must really suck huh?]

What is this? I’m supposed to be the one helping her, not the other way around, and how can she be so relaxed - friendly even? She takes another drag of her cigarette, then exhaled with a frown before taking a step closer, I turned to face her.

[You don’t have to tell me, I’ve dealt with it before, but much happier now though.]

[It…can be a bit much sometimes.]

Shigure-Senpai smiled again, yet all it did was annoy me. She’s a failure, a ridiculous joke of a student, how dare she pity me.

[I bet you don’t even get a chance to let loose, do you? Are your parents at least good to you?]

[They are, they’re not the ones who force me to try so hard, if that’s what you’re implying.]

[Oh? I’m glad then.]

[And you?]

[What about me? Tell ya anything you want to know, Enya-Sama.]

[Don’t you hate the way everyone looks down on you? And what do your parents think?]

She closed her eyes and chuckled to herself, it felt like she wasn’t taking me seriously at all, I felt my foot begin to tap involuntarily.

[I ran away from home a few years ago, couldn’t take their oppressive attitude anymore, so I live alone. As for being looked down on, well, it’s not always a bad thing to be looked down on huh? Especially not when being looked down upon by one’s gorgeous classmate.]

[You’re looking down on me?]

[Only in the literal sense - I was actually referring to you though, I liked feeling you look down on me Enya-Sama.]

[What is that supposed to mean?]

[Forgive me for saying so, but I think you know exactly what I mean.]

I blushed and she took another drag of her cigarette, reddening a bit herself. She couldn’t…possibly be referring to the look I gave her after she got burned, could she? Even if I was blushing and smiling, that doesn’t mean anything, she couldn’t have guessed I was a sadist from just that. Furthermore what was with that compliment, was…she saying she was into me? Into girls??

I turned around and shook my head, slapping my cheeks a few times for good measure, I had to get a hold of myself. I came here as a request from Sensei, I can’t let myself get distracted, besides even if she likes me it’s irrelevant. I’d never be caught dead with someone like her, it’d ruin everything I’ve spent my whole life to achieve.

[SO, why the class skipping, being late, and sleeping during school?]

Shigure-Senpai froze and looked at me in bewilderment, and it was no wonder why, I just blurted out everything I was going to talk to her about. She’d shaken me up so much, and I hated her for it, my foot began tapping again.

[Well alright, I did say anything I guess…let’s see. It’s all a little bit related, I mentioned that I live alone, well I pay for it by working part time at a cafe kind of late into the night. Then I sometimes end up oversleeping, thus the being late, annnnd taking naps during the day thus the skipping class and sleeping. But I mean it’s fine, I test well and never miss the more important classes, so I won’t fail or anything. I’m not planning on attending university, so the bare minimum is fine.]

[I see. And the horns?]

[Oh! I think they’re cute, don’t you?]

She beamed a bright smile at me, then took another drag, her cigarette starting to reach it’s end. They were cute, ridiculous as they made her seem, and everything else seemed to add up too. Could it really be just a string of coincidences that made her out to be a delinquent? One the things I hear most often is she’s intimidating and scary, I guess she’s tall but, I don’t feel any animosity from her.

[I like you, Enya-Sama, I can see why everyone does too.]

[You’re…you’re not as bad as everyone says either.]

[Oh? Well you can just call me Seiko-San then, if you want to.]

[Isn’t that too familiar? Especially when you keep calling me Sama?]

[I don’t mind, like I said I like you, and huh you don’t like being called Sama, Enya-Sama?]

[Ugh you’re a pain, fine - Seiko-San. It’s not that I mind it, but it feels like you have an alternative reason for calling me that.]

[Well…you prefer to be on top, don’t you Enya-Sama?]

[W-what did you say?]

[To be in control? To cause pain? Isn’t that what you like?]

I’d had it, she doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know anything - how dare she try to throw that in my face. Even if it’s true, even if she’s right, what gives her the right to say that so casually? 

I reached up and took her cigarette from her mouth, she looked at me in confusion, she had no idea what I was about to do. No, what she made me do. Turning the cigarette around in my fingers, I pressed it into her exposed arm, causing her to recoil and moan before falling to one knee. I barely saw her face twisted with pain as she slumped her head back down, and I laughed, unable to contain myself anymore. Then I slapped my hands over my mouth as the reality of what I’d just done set in, I hurt someone, like I told myself I never would, no matter how much I’d wanted to. I couldn’t even find the words to speak, and so I ran, leaving Seiko-San alone on the roof with a severe burn I had caused.

[Damn, Enya-Sama, I really like you.♥]

[man--eater]

from his lips, not words alone pleased her: chapter ten

Chapter 10: thy stay, not free, absents thee more

“Listen, Daph,” Husk said, his voice as low and rough as stone scraping upon itself. “You gotta understand. Overlords ain’t like regular sinners—regular people. I should know. Used to be one, a long time ago.” I said nothing, swirling the whiskey around in my glass, watching it go round and round, forever circling, trapped, trapped trapped. I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut before opening them to pay attention; Husk deserved no less. “You don’t, uh,” Husk mused, “you don’t look at people the same way anymore. You can’t. Not if you wanna be someone. When you’re hunting for souls, trading for ‘em—you can’t think about the person they’re attached to. You can’t think about their families, their children, their lovers. Can’t think about the whole life that shaped the soul. Cause they’re just a number to you. Just a coin in your pocket—a chip in your stack.” Husk lifted the handle of whiskey he was cradling in his lap, knocking it back and gulping with his eyes closed. He tore the bottle away from his lips like a bandage from a wound, and a dark rivulet of liquor ran down the side of his mouth, staining his fur. “I guess—what I’m tryin’ to say is,” he said, his dark eyes deep and sorrowful and haunted, “love ain’t something easy anymore.” He snorted, shaking his head. “As if it ever was.” Husk took another long drink from the bottle, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re still lookin’ at the numbers, calculating the risks. Asking yourself how much you’re willing to lose if you make a bad bet. The only way the odds are in your favour is if you keep your own secrets and don’t trust nobody.” My fingers clenched, claws pricking into my palms as my eyes stung anew. “So,” Husk sighed, “you hold yourself away. If you try to let yourself love, it’s—it’s a clumsy, childish kinda love. Meagre. Hungry. You want ‘em to love you back, but you won’t let ‘em close enough to ever know you.” He ran his claws over his face and down the back of his head, tail twitching every few seconds. “And when you set something up to fail, it don't hurt as bad when it falls apart.” His eyes stared out towards the city, but he was far away. Husk cleared his throat, soothing it with whiskey. “Cause by the time you reach the end, you’ve already done your grieving,” Husk rasped, his wings drooping. Angel stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, and leaned a little closer to Husk. I wrapped my arms around myself, instinctively shrinking into a smaller target—as if that would spare me from the relentless heartache.

read more on AO3

[your-fave-sad-bisexual]

Missing you part 2

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: when a thunderstorm strikes a few months after your breakup you end up calling bucky because he’s the only person who has ever truly understood your fear of thunder.

Warnings: fear of thunder, reader has a slight panic attack, fluff, comfort. (can be read without part 1)

A loud rumble tore you from sleep sending a jolt through your bones and fear through your stomach. No. Another rumble tore through the building causing you to curl up hugging your knees tightly to yourself. This week had already been bad enough, Did there really have to be a thunderstorm to top it off? You squeezed your eyes shut and put your hands over your ears trying to block out the storm. This was the first time in what felt like years that you didn’t have Bucky to hold you to his chest and stroke your hair. To cover your ears with his hands and whisper comforting things to you. 

Bucky was sitting in his kitchen drinking a cup of coffee because he couldn’t sleep when the first loud crackle of thunder struck causing him to jump slightly. Of course his first thought was of you. Of how scared you were of thunder. Of how you could keep yourself together in every situation but when it came to thunder you would immediately break down. He stared at the black liquid in his cup and rested his head in his hand. God why did it have to be this way? 

Maybe he should call you. He picked up his phone then hesitated. Would you even pick up if he called? Maybe having to deal with a thunderstorm alone would seem better to you than talking to him.

A sob wracked your body as an especially loud clap  reverberated through your entire body. You could feel your breaths grow shorter and your chest felt heavy, your vision blurring. As the tears dripped from your eyes something broke inside you and you reached for your phone.

Bucky took a sip of coffee but imediatly choked on it as his phone buzzed and your name flashed across the screen. Without hesitation he picked it up. “y/n?”

“Bucky.” came your voice across the line. He could hear your short choked breaths and could tell that you were crying. 

“Hey it’s okay! It’s okay, don't cry, doll. I’m here.'' Just hearing his voice calmed you a bit and you sniffled.

“I can’t- Bucky, I'm scared.”

“Hey! Breath.” he said gently. “Come on breath. In. out. In. out. Good.” you followed his instructions, your hands shaking.

“I hate the thunder.” Bucky heard you whisper. His heart broke for you, all alone in your apartment curled up in your bed trying to block it out.

“I know you do.” his soft voice filled your head blocking out the thunder and the fear. You could almost feel his gentle hands grasping your face and his lips kissing your forehead. “I know you hate the thunder but I'm right here and I'm not going to hang up until you do.” Those words made you cry harder knowing that he was still as caring as he was before you broke up.

“Bucky.” he heard you say.

“Yes doll?” 

“I’m really sorry for what I said when we broke up. I-” you sniffed audibly “i hate myself every moment for it because it was wrong and-”

“y/n don’t do that to yourself.” Bucky felt the lump grow in his throat. “ I was an asshole and you responded as you should have. It’s my fault.”

“But I told you to leave. I didn’t mean it.” you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes but more took their place. “I didn’t mean that! I’m so sorry.” your shoulders shook with sobs as you rested your head on your knees crying.

Bucky’s lip quivered at the pain in your voice. “Hey it’s okay. It’s okay. What about we go to lunch tomorrow and talk about it?” 

“You mean it?”

“Of course” he hoped that this Maybe this would make up for what he had said.

“I would like that.” you said wiping your tears and standing up and going to the window to look out. Rain poured down in heavy sheets lit only by a yellow street light. The thunder had reduced to low distant rumbles leaving the rain as the only sound. 

“I guess I could hang up now.” you said leaning your hips against the window cill. “I think the thunder has passed.”

“Are you sure?” asked bucky. “I don’t want you to be afraid or feel alone.” more like the sound of your voice soothed him in a way that nothing else could and he didn’t want to lose a moment of hearing it.

“I think I'm fine now bucky. I need to get some sleep anyway. And you should too.”

He smiled, swirling the remaining coffee around in his cup at your caring words. “You're probably right. Good night y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. goodnight. Thank you for answering the phone tonight bucky.”

“Yeah. bye.” your phone beeped as the line disconnected and you took it from your ear. Hopefully tomorrow would turn out well. 

For the first time in weeks you actually slept decently with the knowledge that you still might have a chance with Bucky despite all.

~lmk if you want a part 3!

[heroescore]

Heroes

Chapter 13 - Mad Hatter

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Much to Ecker’s dismay, Slade managed to convince him to let Vitaliy stay at his place. After all, he simply didn’t have the space on his yacht, and Ecker had an extra room for his son that he never got to use.

With some cardboard boxes and extra pillows they managed to make the single bed tall enough for Vitaliy to sleep on, the frame creaking dangerously as he lay down.

After that Slade headed back to his yacht, taking the long way round to clear his thoughts again as he walked. He thought over King’s warning, trying to figure out how much danger his friends would be in if Hatter was really targeting him.

Ecker now had Vitaliy watching over him, so they were definitely okay. Ranger could take good care of himself, and he hadn’t even managed to contact Zero yet, so he was quite sure she wouldn’t even be a possibility.

As for himself...he really did think coming face-to-face with the villain would finally allow him to get a better grip of the situation. He could worry about escaping and getting that information to the right people afterwards.

Besides, there was still the possibility that someone was messing with him, but considering the type of people that had his phone number, that was still a very unlikely option.

Once back at the dock, he boarded his boat— yacht, sorry— and headed into the cabin. He’d left a notepad on the table, which he pulled towards himself and wrote a little reminder to call the police for info on ‘N. Rider.’ before pulling open a cabinet, looking for something strong to drink, when he noticed something out of place from the corner of his eye.

A flowery teacup, filled with damping hot tea, stood on the counter of the kitchenette. Slade blinked as he stared at it, trying to remember if he’d made tea just now and just plain forgot, when his phone buzzed with a new message. He pulled it out of his pocket and opened it, finding a new addition to the string of nonsense riddles and rhymes.

‘What’s the matter? Don’t you care for tea?’

Slade raised a brow as he read it, when suddenly he felt a hand on the back of his head, pushing him roughly forwards, slamming his face right on top of the teacup. Scalding liquid spilled over his face and hands as he had tried to catch himself, and the porcelain cut his face in several places.

“Mother’s son!” Slade cursed, grabbing for the kitchen knives that hung on a magnetic strip on the wall.

He tore one off and blindly swung it at his assailant behind him. The hand on his head disappeared, allowing him to stand upright, plucking a shard from his cheek as he blinked the blood out of eyes and jerked around.

The lights suddenly turned off, and he could barely make out the tall figure that was crouching on the small table, cackling maniacally as he held up something that seemed to have the shape of a pocket watch, swinging from a thin chain.

“It’s tea-time, TEA-time!” he said.

“Oh bloody hell,” Slade said, as he realised what was happening, while at the same time the figure reached into his jacket.

There was a loud bang, before everything became black…

The next morning, things were a little chaotic in New York’s worst-decorated bachelor apartment. Phil woke up, only to realise he had slept through all his alarms, and had only five minutes to get to work.

“FUCK!” he yelled, as he jumped up, trying to get dressed, brush his hair and teeth, and pack his laptop at the same time.

“Aiden, why didn’t you wake me?!” he yelled as he raced into the living room and yanked the fridge open, praying to find something he could eat during his commute.

However, upon a quick inspection, he found Aiden was already gone.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, “fuckin’ left without saying a thing, if I get in trouble for this I’m killing him myself!”

He decided to give up on breakfast and put on his shoes before rushing out the door, calling his boss while he sprinted to the nearest bus station.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be late today Mr Wilson, I’m so sorry!” he said, a little out of breath from running.

“...you were supposed to come in today?” Wilson simply replied.

“Yeah, and now I’ll be late, it won’t happen again, sir!”

“Just make sure you make your deadline in time, Winter!” Wilson said, before hanging up.

Phil rolled his eyes as he put his phone away and just about made it onto the bus, paying the fare and finding he had no place to sit. That was okay, he was still young and only a little out of shape. He found a standing spot, holding on tight as the bus merged into traffic. His phone buzzed in his pocket, so he fished it out with a sigh, keeping his voice down so he wouldn’t bother others.

“Hello?”

“Hi, St. Joseph college for theology, I’m looking for Mr A.J. Carter?” a woman’s voice said.

“Wha? Uh, yeah, that’s my roommate, but I think he’s at college right now? At least, he wasn’t home when I rushed out just now,” Phil explained, “and why are you calling me?”

“Well, we only have two phone numbers listed, and the primary won’t connect,” the lady explained, “also he isn’t at college, because that’s what I’m calling about. His professor marked him absent for the fourth time this month, we just want to make sure he’s okay?”

“Uh...good question,” Phil said, “how about I try and contact him, and I’ll get back to you hopefully at the end of the day?”

“Sure, our office hours are until five pm,” she replied, “just call the number on our website and ask for Lacey.”

“Right, thank you, Lacey,” Phil said, “if I don’t hear anything from him I’ll let you know before five then.”

“Sure. Good luck and have a nice day, sir,” Lacey replied before hanging up.

Phil groaned annoyed a bit, before dialling Aiden’s number, but it only went straight to voicemail.

“Oh no you are not doing this to me!” Phil hissed to himself as he tried Slade’s number, seeing if maybe he’d picked his roommate off the streets again, but his phone also went straight to voicemail.

“Come on, I don’t have time for this,” Phil sighed, trying to call Ecker, but he was in the middle of the morning rush at The Joint, so he didn’t pick up either.

“Fucking hell— Well, Mr Wilson doesn’t give a shit anyway so might as well.”

He got off the bus on the next stop and managed to hail a taxi instead, taking it to Slade’s dock. It was the only place he could think of where Aiden would go without informing him.

“You better not have been shot again,” Phil grumbled as he approached Slade’s small yacht.

“Hello? Anyone home?” he called, climbing onto deck, and stopping.

There were bloody drag marks coming from the cabin, pooling on the middle of the deck, and a couple drops towards the dock, before the trail went dead.

“What the...Slade?!” Phil called, trying not to step in the blood as he headed into the cabin.

There he found...even more blood. Splattered over the kitchen, porthole, wall, even the ceiling.

“W-what the fuck?” Phil said, stumbling backwards, “why do I keep walking into this shit?!”

He turned around, making sure to miss the blood on the steps as he headed outside, leaving the boat as he called the police.

“H-hello? I-I think I need police, like, I stumbled upon a crime scene, there’s like, blood everywhere! ...no, nobody’s there, I don’t know what happened, but it’s on the walls and the ceiling— I might be exaggerating, the interior is pretty small after all…”

He continued to give more details, being held on the phone until a police car arrived. Two officers asked him questions, checked the interior of the boat, and called for investigators and, considering the owner of the vessel, Captain Carnahan and detective Hill. The latter frowned as he spotted Phil.

“You again,” he said.

“How do you think I feel?” Phil said, “I was just looking for my roommate and walked into this.”

“Go have a look, Liam. I’ll take his statement,” captain Carnahan said.

“I’m going, I’m going...hey, Hales, follow me.”

The young officer nodded and followed the detective aboard the small yacht, pulling up his nose a bit at the amount of blood on the deck and steps.

“Drag marks,” he identified.

“Yup,” Hill said, “you recognise the pattern on the walls and ceiling too?”

“Definitely a shot wound,” Hales said, “large calibre, close range considering the space.”

“Keen eye,” Hill commented, “anything else?”

“Uh...n-not sure, sir?”

“The height,” Hill said, positioning Hales with his back to the bloody wall, before forming a pretend gun with his fingers and holding it against his forehead.

“Someone was shot in the head and dragged off,” he said.

“So...w-we’re looking for...a-a corpse, sir?” Hales asked, paling a little.

“No,” Hill said, “do you know who owns this dingy?”

“I think it’s technically a sailboat,” Hales said.

“Whatever. It’s owned by Douglas Slade, an immortal healer. Was  thought to have died six years ago by decapitation. Head clean off the shoulders according to eye-witnesses. But we’ve seen him around lately, so he survived that apparently. I don’t think a headshot would kill him. I think this isn’t murder, I think this is a kidnapping.”

“Mr Winter said he was looking for his roommate, Aiden Carter here,” Hales said, “d-do you think…”

“We’ll ask him for a picture and try and locate him too,” Hill said with a shrug, “it might be completely unrelated, but let’s keep all options open.”

“Yes, sir,” Hales said with a nod, “I’ll talk to him again.”

Some hours later, at an undisclosed location, Slade groaned as he came to. He had a throbbing headache, indicating he’d suffered a serious enough head wound to kill a normal person. To make matters worse, there was an annoying, rapid ticking noise, buzzing around his head like a fly that had a passion for percussion.

The old healer groaned again as he cracked his eyes open, a sharp odour penetrating his nostrils. He looked up, finding a pocket watch swinging before his eyes. The room seemed to form and render slowly before his eyes, as he noticed the man holding the watch next.

He wore a brown, wrinkled suit, paired with a matching brown top hat. His ginger hair stuck out on the sides, clearly unkempt, and his eyes were insanely wide. He had a creepy grin on his face as he stared at Slade.

“Tick tock,” he said slowly.

Slade inhaled sharply as he seemed to wake up properly now, jumping a bit, only to realise his wrists and ankles had been bound tightly to the chair he sat on. He glared at the man, who was now cackling as he closed his pocket watch with a snap that echoed through the room.

“What the fuck?” Slade said.

He himself was surprised at how calm he sounded, before pulling on his bonds a bit, but to no avail. The man cackled again.

“It’s tea-time, doc~” he sang, beginning to skip around Slade in a circle.

“Always always on the clock, ev’ry day it’s TEA-TIME DOC!”

He skipped back to the front of the old healer, putting his hands on his wrist as he yelled in his face. Slade leaned back as far as he could, blinking a bit.

“You’re one mad nut,” he commented, still strangely calm. The man tilted his head.

“Mad?” he slowly repeated, “mad you say? MAD?! MAD as a HATTER wouldn’t you SAY!?”

“Excellent!” Slade said, trying to throw the man off his crazy game, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Rather than thrown off, Hatter just seemed amused, beginning to chuckle darkly.

“The doctor will see me now?” he asked, “the master said you will be fun~”

“Master?” Slade repeated, “who’d that be?”

“Patience patience, doc. It’s only tea-time on the clock~”  Hatter sang, chuckling darkly again, “the master said I’d get free reign, so I thought of what would cause the most pain.”

“...I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about, so let’s just get this over with,” Slade said with a bit of a shrug.

Hatter cackled in response as he skipped off towards a very dark corner, to which Slade lost sight of him. Suddenly the lights flicked on, blinding him briefly. He blinked before trying to identify Hatter. He was standing next to another chair, grinning widely as he waited for Slade to notice the person on said chair. Slade could’ve sworn his heart stopped when he did.

“Aiden…” he said under his breath.

His head was bent forwards, only held somewhat upright in his unconscious state as he was tied in a similar manner as Slade. Hatter chuckled darkly as he pulled out his watch again, opening it and holding it in front of the young man.

It was as if the rapid ticking of the watch got louder and louder as it swung left and right, until Aiden groaned softly and slowly lifted his head. He gasped a bit as he blinked his eyes open, before looking around confused, leaning back a bit as he found the watch swinging in his face.

Hatter pulled it away, closing it with a snap as he put it away again. Aiden’s eyes widened as he realised he was not alone, as he realised he was tied up, and as he realised Slade was there too.

“S-Slade?” he said softly, “what’s going on?”

“Don’t worry, Love,” Slade quickly said, “I’ll get us out of here.”

“Will you now, doc? WILL YOU?!” Hatter yelled, before grabbing a hold of Aiden’s chair and dragging him closer to Slade, positioning him across of him, facing each other.

“Do you know now, doc? What will cause the most pain~?” Hatter said, patting Aiden’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch him!” Slade snapped.

Hatter just giggled in response.

“Oh~? So you don’t like it if I’d do...THIS?!” he said, grabbing a hold of Aiden’s jaw, forcing him to look up at the ceiling while pressing a large kitchen knife against his throat with his other hand.

Aiden whimpered a bit as he felt the cold metal against his skin, holding still to avoid any accidents.

“W-wait!” Slade quickly said, “he’s got nothing to do with this. Let him go!”

“Not until I decide who to play with first~” Hatter sang, letting go of Aiden before skipping over to a large wooden table to the side of them.

He stopped and turned back, pointing at Slade.

“Eeney, meeney, miney, moe…” he slowly said, his finger landing on Aiden.

He shared a concerned look with Slade, when Hatter continued the verse.

“Catch a tiger by the toe…”

His finger now landed on Slade. The two hostages exchanged another look, rightfully worried that he would continue the verse further — which he did.

“If it hollers, let it go! Eeney! Meeney! MINEY! MOE!!!”

His finger landed on Aiden last, to which he cackled and clapped enthusiastically, skipping over to him.

“Oh we’re going to have so MUCH fun!” he said.

“No! Leave him alone you lunatic!” Slade yelled, struggling against his ropes.

Hatter just cackled as he started pulling a large, metal tub in between the two men, the contents sploshing and splashing a bit over the edge.

It was filled to the brim with water.

Aiden threw Slade a nervous look, both of them having a good idea of what was about to happen. Hatter stood behind Aiden, putting his hands on his shoulders and lightly massaging them.

“Do you know Ding Dong Bell, Doc?” he asked, grinning sinisterly.

“S-Slade?” Aiden said quietly, growing very anxious.

“It’s a nursery rhyme?” Slade said, “I-I used to sing it to my kids…”

Without a warning, Hatter kicked against the back of Aiden’s chair, toppling him forward, straight into the tub of water.

“What are you doing?!” Slade yelled, but Hatter seemed to ignore him as he just started singing.

Ding, dong, bell,Pussy’s in the well.Who put her in?

“Who put her in, doc~?”

“Let him go dammit!” Slade yelled.

Hatter’s grin melted away.

“WHO put her IN?!” he yelled, putting his foot on the back of Aiden’s chair, so he really couldn’t get up without any help.

“Fuck!” Slade said, digging through his memories, “little...uh...little Johnny Flynn?”

“Who pulled her out~?” Hatter continued.

“He’s drowning!���

“Who pulled her OUT doc?” Hatter yelled.

“Fucking— T-Tommy Stout!”

“LITTLE Tommy Stout!”

“Little Tommy Stout!” Slade quickly yelled, to which Hatter thankfully pulled Aiden out of the water, putting his chair upright while letting him cough and gasp for air as he finished the song.

What a naughty boy was that, Tried to drown poor pussycat! Who never did him any harm, But KILL all mice in the farmer’s barn…

Aiden was still coughing by the time he finished, but Hatter already tipped the chair forward again, just not dropping him back into the water yet.

“Cough W-wait!” Aiden gasped.

“Hush,” Hatter said, “you sing the next song, doc~”

“Sing? I’m not going to sing!” Slade said.

Hatter just giggled and let go of Aiden’s chair, dropping him in the water again.

“Slade—”

“Fucking hell— Uh...J-Jack and Gill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water. Er...Jack fell down and broke his crown, a-and Gill came tumbling after!”

“Well...I’ve heard better singing,” Hatter said, surprisingly calmly, but thankfully he pulled Aiden up again.

He coughed violently, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, staying surprisingly quiet otherwise. Hatter chuckled darkly, beginning to drag the tub away again. Then he started messing with something next to a large table, but Slade had only eyes for Aiden right now. He was shivering, the water having chilled him to the bone.

“A-Aiden?” Slade softly said, “are you arite?”

Aiden nodded slowly as he looked up, stifling a sob.

“I’m sorry…” he said, “h-he caught me off-guard...after my shift was over, I—”

“It’s okay,” Slade said, “it’s not your fault. I-if anything it’s my fault. I’m the target, and if it weren’t for—”

He abruptly stopped talking as they both smelled the tell-tale scent of something burning. Hatter had started a fire, in a small barbecue by the wall. Aiden shot Slade a scared look while Hatter hummed another nursery rhyme, as he used a metal rod to poke the wood feeding the flames, heating the rod until it was glowing.

“Aiden!” Slade hissed, “look at me, Love, keep your eyes on me. You’re going to be arite, I promise. We’re going to get out of here, I swear...I’ll do anything to get you out of here.”

“How doth the little crocodile, improve his shiny tail?” Hatter suddenly said, eerily calm, “And pour the waters of the Nile, on every golden scale.”

He  chuckled slowly as he walked back to the two men, holding up the glowing hot rod, turning slowly to Aiden as he finished his rhyme.

“How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spreads his claws. And welcomes little fishies in, with gently...smiling...jaws.”

“N-no...no please…” Aiden said softly, while Hatter put a hand on his shoulder and readied the rod.

He just grinned in reply, leaning close into his face.

“What’s the matter, dear?” he asked, “don’t you care for tea?”

“Y-you don’t understand,” Aiden whispered, “if you do that—”

“No stop!” Slade suddenly cried, “stop it! Hurt me instead! NO STOP—”

Hatter looked back at Slade with a grin, otherwise ignoring him as he put the hot metal against the young man’s shoulder, beginning to push it in excruciatingly slow.

Slade’s desperate pleas were completely drowned out by a horrific agonised shriek as Hatter slowly pushed, and pushed until the rod hit bone. Followed by a pained wail as he started twisting it, tearing loose scalded flesh that stuck to the rod.

Finally, he pulled it out, drawing out a third cry. Hatter cackled loudly as Aiden’s head dropped forward while he passed out, looking over his shoulder back to Slade.

“Aren’t you having FUN, doc?” he said, before laughing hysterically.

Or rather, he planned to, but he stopped his cackling when he heard a second laugh. He quieted down, looking down at Aiden as he slowly lifted his head again while he laughed. Hatter...broke character for a second, shooting Slade a questioning look, but the old healer just shrugged, internally wondering if the poor kid had lost his mind from the pain already.

Suddenly Hatter backed away with a hop as Aiden looked up, but at the same time, it wasn’t Aiden. His hair darkened to a pitch black hue, his eyes so red they appeared to be glowing, and a grin on his face, as he almost effortlessly pulled himself free from the ropes binding him, snapping the ligature as he slowly got up, still laughing.

“Hehe he… I felt that…” he slowly said, looking at his shoulder, before stretching a bit, “it’s been ages since I felt anything~”

He cracked his neck a bit, not seeming to be in a hurry, when suddenly he seemed to pull two guns out of thin air, aiming them at Hatter.

“Let me show you what fun is, baby.”

<prev | masterlist | next>

[scarletlove2]

A Wilted Flower

This is the first chapter of a fanfiction I’ve been writing and finally thought was good enough to publish after going back and forth with myself about doing it. This is an OC work, and I’m putting that out there since I don’t want anyone thinking this might be an XReader. Also, I know not a lot of people enjoy reading OC, so I’m mentioning it here so readers are aware before they start. Anyway, the divider is from @/escritoluar on Pinterest!!

Warnings: Character death, arguing, mention of pregency/ pregency loss. blood, guns, mention of divorce (adding just to be safe), bad spelling and grammar :,<, please let me know if I missed anything.

Also, a quick warning: I promise I’ll stop after this, but I use ---- to indicate a time jump or a switch between past and future. There’s also a switch in POV from my OC to a cop after the first use of it. I think that’s the case, but please let me know if I’m wrong!

“Chris, you promised you’d be home tonight!” I shouted after my husband as I walked down the stairs behind him. He was walking around the house, grabbing things.

“I told you I can’t!” he shouted back, stopping in our living room. I glanced at the box on the wooden coffee table before bringing my gaze back to him. I clenched my hands at the sides of my skirt, trying to stop them from shaking.

“For once, can you think of your family rather than your job? You told me you would be home more often, but you're not!” I lowered my voice as he rubbed his face, shaking his head before walking toward the door. Tears started lining my eyes as I chased after him again. I reached out, grabbing his hand as he turned slightly.

“Please, Chris,” I pleaded, my voice soft, trying to get through to him. But I knew it wouldn't work. I tried to think back to a time when it would have, but that damn job he promised he’d change for, the one he was at 24/7, had torn us apart. It felt like I wasn’t married anymore, with how many nights I spent sleeping alone in our bed.

He glanced at me, his face twisted in an expression I couldn’t quite place. Was it regret mixed with anger? I couldn’t tell. Then, he ripped his hand away from mine and walked toward the door, stepping out. The tears I tried so hard to keep from falling began rolling down my cheeks.

“If you leave, I won’t be here when you come back,” I remarked foolishly, hoping that by saying it, he would turn back into the house, come back, and comfort me. But he stopped, turning his head slightly to the side.

“Then leave your rings on the table,” he answered coldly, his tone devoid of love. No turning back to wrap me in his arms. Was this how he wanted it to end? He swore his job wouldn’t tear our marriage apart, but it seemed I was wrong. My father always said I was a foolish young girl, and that it would ruin me if I didn’t get in check. And now he was right, as I watched Chris walk out the door, slamming it behind him. I stood frozen in time before the full waterworks started to fall.

As I stood there, frozen for what felt like an eternity, I let out a rough, shallow breath before a loud sob tore from my lips. I put my hand on my stomach and shook my head, refusing to believe what had just happened. Wipping my tears from my soaked cheeks, but they kept rolling down, hitting my shirt and the floor. Walking towards the living room, grabbing the arm of the couch to steady myself as the tears didn’t stop, and the sobs ripped from my mouth as I tried to regain control of my breathing.

I opened my eyes and glanced down, trying to hold on to a little bit of the sanity I had left. That’s when seeing the wooden box on the coffee table. My sobs suddenly stopped, replaced by anger seeping into my bones. The tears on my cheeks began to dry as fury started to rise within me.

Grabbing the box roughly, feeling the rough wooden in my hands as I stared straight ahead at the portrait of Chris and me on our wedding day, mounted above the fireplace—the happiest day of our lives. I had worn a soft smile as I glanced at Chris, my eyes hunting him. It felt like a bad dream, one I was forced to confront head-on.

I hurled the wooden box at the picture frame, and the box broke open as it hit the portrait, knocking over smaller picture frames on the ledge of the fireplace. Some of them hit the floor. The contents of the box—medical records and a pregnancy test that I was gonna surprise Chris with that now was never gonna happen—spilled across the wooden floor. My breaths were short, and I looked back up at the portrait. That smiling face was still there. A noticeable crack in the glass formed between the little space separating Chris and me, with fracture lines radiating outward. Small shards of glass lay scattered on the floor, some landing on the fallen picture frames or the small brick ledge.

I rounded the glass table between me and the fireplace, standing on my tiptoes to roughly grab the portrait from its mantle. My breathing grew rough and ragged as I threw the portrait across the living room toward the TV. The realization of what I had just done hit me hard. I looked at the medical records on the ground and the broken glass surrounding the portrait. My breath quickened, and more tears lined my waterline. My hands went to my hair, pulling lightly on the strands as I paced the living room.

"What am I gonna do? What will Chris think when he gets home?" I muttered quietly to myself, the tears rolling down my cheeks again. I tried to think of an explanation, but before I could form one, I heard glass shatter upstairs. Thinking I was just hearing things from how tired I had been from all the crying and throwing things.

 Thinking I was hearing things, I walked to the kitchen my hand over my stomach and leaned against the counter. I held my head in my hands before standing up straight, smoothing my hair out, and rubbing my face to clear away the last few tears. But then I heard it again—the sound of light footsteps coming from upstairs. The creek of the floorboards along with the creak of the bedroom door caught my attention alerting me it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, the door always creaked when opened I’ve been telling Chris to fix it since we moved in but he never did get around to doing it. 

I grabbed a knife from the knife block, quickly snatching the phone off the wall. Crouching behind the kitchen counters, I dialled the police department, trying to keep my breathing steady and my hands from shaking as the footsteps grew louder. I tried pinpointing where they could be upstairs as the phone rang. My grip tightened on the knife before the sound of the woman’s voice from the phone registered in my head, bringing me back to reality.

“This is 911. What’s your emergency?” the woman asked, her voice almost robotic to me, drowned out by the sound of my heartbeat and the footsteps.

“Are you there?” she asked again, and I realized I was still clutching the phone and the knife, my hands shaking.

“I think someone’s in my house. I heard glass shatter upstairs, and now I’m hearing footsteps,” I whispered into the phone, my body shaking as I tried to steady my breath.

“Alright, try and stay calm. Could you tell me your name and address, please?” she responded softly, trying to keep me calm.

“Could you try to tell me your name and address first? Then I'll have someone sent over right away,” she asked, her voice soft as she typed.

“My name is Scarlet. Scarlet Redfield. The house number is 12th on Scott Street, East Side,” I whispered, the sound of the footsteps coming closer to the stairs, making my shaking worse.

“Ah, Mrs. Redfield, just try and stay calm. I’m having people sent over right now. Do you know if the person is armed?” she asked trying to get more information 

“Does it seem like I know!” I quietly shouted into the phone as I heard the footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs, praying whoever it was would check the basement first

_________________________________________

A knock at the door a little while later. With no response trying the doorknob which caused the door to creak open. The police entered the entryway noticing the blood leading to the living room. The coats and coat racked knocked over as they reached for their guns. Giving each other a silent nod as they walked through the house, one went upstairs while the other noticed the phone discarded on the ground with a bloody handprint on the handle. 

“Mrs. Redfield are you still there?!” The woman shouted through the phone getting no response 

“Mrs.Redfield is everything okay!?” Her voice filled with panic before the police officer dispatched to the scene picked up the abandoned phone from the ground between the kitchen and living room 

“She’s not here no one is?” He spoke confusingly, as he looked around

“What do you mean!” She shouted back her fingers clicking at her keyboard

“It looks like a crime scene in here but no bodies” he replied as his partner started coming down the stairs, as he looked at the large puddle of blood on the carpet with glass around it. The blood soaked into the light colour carpet tinting it red as it pooled out around the carpet.

This kind of feels like a fever dream, finally getting around to posting it. I have a Red Dead Redemption work that's a couple of chapters long that I could grab from my AO3 account and post here while anyone who enjoys this waits for the next chapter. If anyone would be interested!