#i just realized how much i love my fictional redheads

[impromptu-sketches]

Jeong-min, you better not hurt this precious man!! (ง’̀-‘́)ง

They better not pull a ‘lucky paradise’ on us and have it be angst and hurt from here on out. This man deserves everything!!

Jeong-min, what are you hiding!?

[sofreddie]

Afraid to Love

Summary: Afraid of love, afraid of the Mark, afraid of the consequences of their night together, she ran. When Dean shows up in her life again, she has to decide whether to accept the second chance she's been presented with or give in to her instinct to run.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Mary

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex), More Angst, More Smut (Unprotected Sex - these two! - Oral Sex), Even more Angst, Fluff

DEAN: BED SHARING (@spndeanbingo)

WC: 6,403

A/N: This started as a simple, small little thing and just grew into something else entirely. Sometimes fics just take on a life of their own. These two didn't want to be simple. Oh no! These two wanted to be complicated and straight up dumb (wrap it before you tap it y'all, I shouldn't have to tell you this). Ah, the beauty of fiction!

“So, was it Amara?” Sam asked his older brother as he packed up their bags. Now that the case was done, it was time to leave the motel.

“No,” Dean shook his head as he let out a long breath. “I-I thought it would be too. I really did.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as he listened to Dean’s words. The Qareen they were fighting took on the form of one’s deepest desire. Since the Mark had been lifted, Dean had been obsessed with Amara, unable to hurt or resist her. He was certain it would have been her image that his brother saw. Maybe it really was one of the Daisy Dukes?

“Then who-”

“Y/N.”

The name hung heavy in the air between them as the silence stretched out. Dean looked absolutely distraught and Sam’s heart ached for him.

He hadn’t thought about Y/N in a while, and he felt guilty for it. She had left when Dean first got the Mark, worried for how it was already affecting him. She took off in the night, leaving behind a note. The brothers had been unable to find her anywhere.

Sam secretly looked for her face in every passing stranger they saw. He knew Dean was upset and heartbroken when Y/N left, having been close friends with her. Sam didn’t realize just how much Dean had apparently cared for her, the Qareen appearing as her and breaking Dean all over again.

“You ever gonna tell me what happened between you two?” Sam asked as they climbed into the Impala, ready to head home. Dean drove down the road, the silence stretched out for miles.

"You remember the night she left? You hooked up with that redhead from the bar-"

"Wait. Is that why she left? Because I brought a girl back?" Sam began to panic.

"What? No!" Dean scoffed, "Full of yourself much?"

"You just said-"

"If you'd let me finish…"

One hand holding tightly onto the strap on her shoulder, Y/N raised her other hand, took a deep breath, and knocked quickly on the door. She listened as footsteps approached, a pause, then several locks being disengaged.

The door opened and a smirking Dean Winchester leaned against the doorframe. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sam found company for the night,” she started. Dean’s brow quirked in interest. “So I was hoping you’d be okay with me sleeping in the car?”

He stood straight, “Why would I let you sleep in the car?”

He opened the door further and gestured her inside. Her eyes looked past him into the room, finding it empty of anyone else, the bed still neatly made.

“I thought you had company,” she uttered.

Dean grinned and relaxed, “You sound jealous.”

She rolled her eyes hard, her head lolling with it, “Yeah, I’ll go find a park bench.”

She turned to leave, Dean stepping forward and grabbing her by the arm, “Don’t be an ass. Get in here.”

Y/N huffed a breath, heading inside the motel room, turning to face Dean as he closed and relocked the door. He looked her up and down, biting his lip and smirking once more. She looked ready to hit him.

“Relax,” he was the one to roll his eyes this time. “We’ve shared a bed before.”

“I know that, it’s not that. I know you went to the bar with Sam. Did you strike out or something?”

“Nah. No one really caught my eye. Wasn’t my night,” he shrugged. “Kinda proud of Sammy though.”

Y/N snorted a laugh, the tension suddenly gone. “You mind if I take a quick shower?”

“Go for it,” he threw back, focusing his attention on cleaning up the small table.

The sound of the bathroom door closing had him turning his gaze toward its surface, staring hard. As if his eyes could see through the door or he could somehow compel her to come back into his line of sight. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff.

He rubbed at the Mark on his forearm trying to ease away the burning ache of it. The Mark constantly pulsed and flowed, reminding him of its presence.

Except when Y/N was around.

Just being around her made it grow quieter, the pulsing ebbing away to nothing. She calmed and relaxed him. They were friends and hunting buddies. But since he’d gotten the Mark, she’d grown to mean so much more to him.

It was harder and harder to hide it, the playful flirtations and occasional bed sharing both feeding and teasing him. He refused to give in, to risk ruining one of his most treasured friendships. Especially since she’d never shown interest in him beyond what they already had. The risk was too great.

Dean laid back on the bed, flipping through the channels, not really paying much attention. He was biding time, keeping himself occupied while he waited for Y/N to return. The Mark nagged at him once more and he rubbed it in a vain attempt to soothe the deep ache.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, the steam billowing out behind her. She was dressed in a t-shirt and sleep shorts - her go-to he realized - her bare thighs drawing his attention. She tossed her towel aside after shaking out her hair, casually crawling on the bed to prop herself next to Dean.

“What’re we watching?”

“Nothing on,” he groaned, leaving the TV on some action movie and tossinng the remote to the bed. She immediately reached for it and he smirked as she laid back and got comfortable, flipping through the channels herself before stopping back on the same action flick from before.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed, setting the remote on the nightstand.

Her eye caught Dean rubbing at the Mark. It made her nervous. She hated that damn Mark and what it was doing to Dean. What he was becoming. It terrified her. She stuck around for Dean, her friend and hunting buddy. Not for reasons that she wouldn’t even admit to herself. Especially not now, not when Dean was suffering and fighting with all he had. The last thing he needed was her throwing feelings at him. He needed her friendship and she valued it.

She glanced up to see Dean already looking at her. Her breath caught in her throat, the tension thick. She wanted so badly to soothe his worry and ache, to love him and show him how love could heal. But she was petrified of showing it, admitting it to anyone. In that moment, she wasn't sure what possessed her, other than a need to soothe him - and maybe herself. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his.

He was surprised at first, but quickly melted into it, tilting his head and responding eagerly. She hummed, licking across his lips, making him groan as he opened to her questing tongue. His hands slid down her sides to her hips, pulling her into his lap, allowing him to bring her close and deepen the kiss further.

She whined against his lips, her fingers working quickly to shed his shirt. Her hands roamed down his chest and stomach as she rolled her hips needily against his own, her desperation growing with each touch. She quickly removed her own shirt, pressing herself back against him and gasping against his lips at the contact.

Dean wanted to stop, to ask her what had suddenly made her want him the way he'd been wanting her for so long. But he was selfish. He wanted her so bad, the Mark all but forgotten as her attention rained down on him. He knew she could never want him, especially when he was tainted with the Mark. Even though it would break his heart to only be the once, he needed it and would take whatever she would give him. He could have that at least.

Feeling her roll back into him made Dean groan longingly, crashing again with Y/N's lips to keep himself from being too loud. He quickly worked to remove Y/N's clothes, then his own, before hastily tugging her back down to him with a small chuckle.

“Fuck,” he bit his lip, “You are so fucking hot, ya know that?”

“Have you seen you?” she laughed, rubbing her wet folds against his length and loving the sounds he made.

Amidst the awkwardness, the tension and unspoken feelings, they still managed to laugh. To be the friends they had always been, and that gave them both comfort.

She shifted her hips, sinking down on his length until there was no more to take. She let out a sigh at feeling so full and connected to him.

Dean mouthed a curse, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as her tight walls sunk around him, tightening as they adjusted to him. He breathed out shakily across Y/N's lips as they ghosted each other, his arms slowly moving to grip on the back of her shoulders, pushing her down onto him.

With a small grunt, he thrust his hips up, forcing Y/N to bounce on his lap as he leaned back against the headboard, slowly thrusting with pinpoint precision. She whined and gasped, her arms wrapped tighter around his shoulders as she held him close, her body moving in sync with his.

It wasn’t long before Dean’s pace quickened to borderline brutal. With a long groan, he buried his face into the crook of Y/N's neck, groaning across her skin before sucking a deep red mark.

As each of his thrusts grew desperately in pace, he growled, hungrily devouring Y/N's lips. He released one of her shoulders, his free hand snaking between them to find her clit.

“I’m so close,” Dean breathed across her mouth, right as he started to rub fast, small circles on the sensitive nub, “Cum with me, cum on my fucking cock, Baby.”

She tried to speak, but a guttural moan was ripped from her lips as she came hard, her eyes squeezed shut and clinging to him, leaving small nail indents in his shoulders as she shook with the force of it in his arms.

Dean kept up his pace as he rode her through her high, his eyes locked and watching her completely blissed out. With a sudden and harsh thrust, he groaned out obscenely, pushing Y/N down onto him as he panted with each spurt of hot cum that shot deep into her belly.

She shook with another small orgasm at feeling his cum shoot within her. She whined and panted as she came down, her head dropped to his shoulder. She grimaced slightly as she felt his seed dripping out around his cock and a brief panic flared in her mind.

Dean’s eyes slowly fluttered open as he panted for breath, the same flash of panic suddenly flooding them too for a moment. When her head dropped to his shoulder, his arms tightened around her - a hell of a lot more gently now - he sighed out and enjoyed the feel of her.

"You okay?" he mumbled as she shook lightly in his arms, her breath fanning over his shoulder.

"Yeah," she sighed back, before yawning. "Tired though," she chuckled.

He inhaled a sharp and shaky breath as he withdrew from her core, laying her beside him and planting soft pecks along her collarbone as he hummed in agreement. He knew they needed to talk, but decided that was tomorrow's problem. With a hand draped across her waist, Dean slowly let himself drift to sleep.

"When I woke up, she was gone. Only the note was left," Dean spoke, recalling that last night with Y/N, making the hurt fresh all over again.

D-

I'm so sorry.

Please forgive me.

-Y/N

He'd reread the note again and again, the words forever etched into his brain. Sam didn't know that he still had it, tucked away in his trunk of possessions. Every once in a while, he'd take out the note, straightening the ruffled edges and studying the ink from her jotted words.

Sam remembered her cryptic note, Dean not providing much information until now. Y/N and Dean were practically best friends and Sam was sure they'd end up together eventually. He was glad they did, but couldn't figure out why Y/N would run. If anything, he thought Dean would have been the one to turn from intimacy, but Y/N?

"Maybe she was worried about the Mark," Sam offered hesitantly, swallowing hard as Dean squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. "She doesn't know it's gone. Maybe we could look for her again?"

"Just let it go, Sam," Dean pleaded. "It's been more than a year. If she wanted to be found, we would have heard from her."

"Yeah, but, Dean-"

"Let's just focus on Amara, okay?"

"Ooh! We should stop for lunch at this little town up ahead!" Mary chimed excitedly from the backseat of the Impala.

"That sounds good," Sam agreed, looking over his shoulder at his mother with a smile before turning his attention to Dean at the wheel.

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned, but when both Mary and Sam pleaded, he gave in. He knew he would anyway. He'd do anything for his family.

After helping Amara and Chuck reconcile - and avoiding yet another apocalyptic event - Amara had granted Dean a gift, returning his mother to their lives. He was over-the-moon, but Mary needed time to adjust. He tried to understand, to give her space, and in the end she decided to stay and hunt with her sons.

Dean parked at the small town diner - the same sort of small establishment they frequented all over the country. Dean followed behind as his mother and brother chatted and laughed, finding a booth. He slid in beside his mother, smirking as he listened to the pair animatedly talk with one another.

Over the din, Dean's ears tickled with a familiar sound - a voice. He focused his ears on the sound, hearing two women speaking. Curious, he slightly turned his head, glancing over his shoulder. A waitress stood at the register, handing over a bag to a female customer. As the customer turned, ready to leave, Dean saw her face and his world came to a screeching halt.

She walked out the door and he could only snap his head around, peering out the large front windows of the diner as the woman entered her car.

"Y/N," he breathed out, unaware of his brother questioning him.

Sam's eyes followed Dean's gaze, the whisper of Y/N's name more than confusing him. But as he turned he saw her, clear as day. As she climbed in the car, she looked up, her eyes meeting Sam's and then Dean's through the windows. Just like Dean, she froze.

Sam scooted off the seat, ready to go out and talk to her, but as soon as he rose, she was pulling her car out of the parking spot and away from the diner, the tires squealing slightly in her haste. Immediately, Sam pulled out his phone, using their connected apps and information to look up the license plates.

Looking across the table, he could see that his brother was hurting and his mother was more than curious. Sam, however, was determined.

Y/N took off a little faster than she should have, the tires screeching as she made the turn out of the parking lot. That was Sam and Dean Winchester, she was certain of it! Two years and not a peep, then all of a sudden they're in her town? She panicked, her only thought was that she had to get away. She couldn't face Dean - not then, and not now.

As she raced towards home, she couldn't help but think back on that last night with Dean. He had been exhausted and in turmoil since getting that damn Mark on his arm. She was worried for him in ways that made her insides twist into knots. They were friends, yes, but she had made the biggest mistake - she had fallen in love with him.

She knew better, but it was out of her control, falling for him was as easy as breathing. She also knew Dean would have every reason to reject her, and she didn't want to risk being rejected. So she kept quiet. But seeing him that night, something sparked within her. She wanted to give him comfort, peace, love, if only for a moment.

After, she lie awake with Dean's arm draped over her waist, the sweat still cooling on her skin, her pulse returning to normal. Then the panic set in.

What if it was a one-time thing? She couldn't hide how she felt for him after that. She couldn't bear to see him walk away either. On top of all of that, he had the Mark and it was changing him. She was slowly growing terrified of it, and of him.

So she made the decision to leave in the middle of the night, carefully sneaking out of bed as Dean snored, sleeping more peacefully than she'd ever seen him. She quickly and quietly dressed, gathering her bag and sneaking out of the room.

As she pulled into her garage, she shut off the car, watching as the garage door closed behind her. It wouldn't take Sam more than an hour to find her, track her plates, drive around looking for her car. She could run again, she supposed. Her eyes flicked to the backseat and she sighed.

No more running.

Dean pulled up to the curb, throwing the car in park and eyeing up the house before him.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean sighed, leaving the car running but clibming out, shutting the door behind him. He stood on the sidewalk, hesitant to move forward.

What if she rejected him? She ran away for a reason. Maybe she wouldn't want to see him. He swallowed hard and forced his feet to move. He had to know why she left. Why they had such a beautiful moment together and she reipped it away. He thought their friendship would have been strong enough to survive anything.

"Dean, you don't have to do this. I can go talk to her if you want," Sam offered. He knew one of them had to talk to her, to find out why she took off, to make sure she was alright.

"Nah, I got this," Dean gave his brother a small smirk and a pat on the arm before making his way to the door.

Sam nodded, letting Dean walk up the path to the house. He climbed back in the car, giving his Mom a reassuring smile as they watched Dean and waited.

Y/N knew he was there before he ever knocked, having heard the tell-take sound of the Impala's engine rolling up outside. She was wrong. It took half anhour for Sam to track her down. She smiled despite the panic rearing its ugly head.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, just enough to situate herself in its opening. The mere sight of him took her breath away, as handsome as ever, his eyes filled with emotion.

"Hey, Y/N," he breathed out, his eyes taking in every little detail of her from head to toe, recommiting it to memory and noting the subtle changes.

"H-hey, Dean," she cursed at how her voice shook, her panic and fear still very present. She glanced at his covered arm and Dean followed her gaze.

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the smooth skin. "I don't have the Mark anymore."

"How?" she asked, her eyes wide as she took a step towards him, her fingers running over the smooth skin.

Dean's breath hitched at her touch, her proximity making his heart race. "That's kind of a long story," he chuckled nervously.

She stepped back into the doorway, glancing over her shoulder into the house before looking back at him. She noticed the Impala idling out front, Sam and a woman waiting in the car.

"Do you - is there someone else here?" Dean asked even though he was terrified of her answer. "I can come back or…or just leave," he offered, swallowing hard.

Y/N's heart broke at his vulnerability and she sighed, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow him in. She closed the door behind them, giving Dean a moment to look over the inside of her house. Basic furnishings and decorations throughout, but she she knew there was no way he'd miss the highchair in the corner of the kitchen or the toys littered about the small space. Or the tiny human in the playpen in the livingroom, cooing as they chewed on a teething ring.

"You have a baby?" Dean asked, his eyes stuck on the small child. She stepped around him, moving to the playpen and taking the child into her arms.

"We have a baby," she corrected him, waiting for his reaction.

The silence drug out as she watched Dean process the information, doing the math in his head, his eyes landing on the child once more.

"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking. She could see his hurt and anger clashing within him, his eyes welling with tears. "Why did you leave? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared," she admitted shamefully. "I was scared of the Mark and what it was doing to you. And I was scared of how I was falling for you, Dean," she forced the words out, feeling her own tears forming. "I was scared to love you and scared to tell you and scared of you," she admitted with a huff.

"You weren't the only one who was scared," Dean spoke after a drawn out silence between them. "You weren't the only one falling and scared, Y/N."

She didn't know how to respond to his statement, her need to run and avoid still thrumming within her.

"Do you want to hold your daughter, Dean?" she asked with a smile. Dean carefully but eagerly took her from Y/N's arms, cradling the child in his own. "Her name's Ava."

"Ava," Dean whispered reverently, his eyes locked on the tiny features of his daughter. His daughter. It felt like a djinn dream. He'd found Y/N and she was alive and well and had their child. Having his Mom back had made Dean happier than he ever thought possible. But this moment right here, this was the greatest single moment of his life. Earmarked as a whole new level of happy washed over him. Until a disturbing thought occured to him.

"Is there a boyfriend or something I need to worry about?" he asked. "Some other father figure in her life?"

"No," Y/N sighed, running her fingers over her daughter head. "There could never be anyone after you, Dean."

He'd definitely address that later. He moved to the couch, gingerly sitting down and being delicate with Ava. He pulled out his phone to send a text, then she heard the Impala driving away. They spent the evening doting Ava with attention, the two of them sharing their lives over their time apart.

Dean participated in every aspect of Ava's nightly routine, helping to bathe her and put her to bed. With every second he was with the two of them his heart swelled further. There was no way he could be apart from them now.

"Come home with me?" Dean asked as they sat in the living room again.

"What?"

"You and Ava, you can move into the Bunker. There's plenty of space and it's warded so it's safe. And we'd have Sam and Mom and Cas to help out."

"Dean-"

"I don't have the Mark anymore, and my feelings haven't changed," he took a chance, scooting closer to her on the couch and cupping her cheek with one hand. "I have missed you every day. I've wondered again and again what I could have done differently. Now that I've found you both I don't ever want to be without you again."

The intensity in his eyes, the warmth from his touch, his familiar smell swirling around her, his heartfelt words that plucked every heartstring made the tears she'd been holding back fall. Once the dam was broken, she couldn't stop the sobs from taking over.

Dean shushed her, his hand moving to the back of her head as he tucked her face into the crook of his neck, soothing her the best he could. His own tears fell as he held her, the pain of the past falling away with each shed tear.

"I'm so sorry," she finally spoke, pulling back to meet his eyes and let him know she truly meant it. "I was scared but I never wanted to hurt you. I'm so sorry, Dean."

He wiped her tears with his thumbs, cupping her face and gently pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

"It's okay," he insisted. "We're here now, right?"

She nodded and he kissed her again. This time she responded eagerly, so grateful for his forgiveness, for his love, for him. She had so very much missed her Dean.

She panted for breath between kisses, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as goosebumps rose on her skin. She tried to push herself impossibly closer, hooking her arms under his and clutching the back of his shirt.

He pulled her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately, pouring himself into it, his hands tangling in her hair as he held her to him. The taste and feel of her was better than he remembered, sending sparks through his entire being. He needed to connect with her again.

In a seamless maneuver, he lifted her by the hips to straddle his lap, then stood and walked to her bedroom, setting her back on her feet once the door was closed behind them. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate her in front of him and in his arms once more.

The fear began to creep back in, making him doubt if he should take the chance again. He didn't think he could survive it if she left again or asked him to go. She said she had fallen for him back then, but did she still feel that way? He did, he said as much, but did she?

She cupped his cheek, instinctually knowing what was going through his mind just then. Afterall, the had been close friends for years and that intuation doesn't just go away. The connection they had seemed to flare back up between them as if they'd never been apart.

"I want you," she reassured him, kissing him sweetly and meeting his eyes once more. "I love you, Dean, and I want you."

A distinct whine could be heard passing his lips as he crashed them into hers once more, hungrily devouring her mouth as his hands clutched and pulled at her clothes. Walking her back toward the bed, his lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking marks along the way.

He pulled back long enough to remove her shirt before attacking her mouth once more, the force of his kisses sending her falling back onto the bed. His lips never left her as he followed her down, pressing the length of his body against her.

His hands worked quickly, removing her bra as his lips moved over her collarbone and down to her breasts, leaving a wet trail to cool in the air. Reaching her nipple, he sucked and licked with the tip of his tongue as one hand moved to massage the neglected breast. His other hand trailed down her stomach and flicked open the button of her jeans.

He groaned, getting lost in the feel and taste of her, his ears rang with the sweet little sounds that fell from her parted lips.

He switched breasts suddenly, his mouth worked her into a frenzy as he removed the rest of her clothing. He paused to look over her now bare body, taking in every detail. She cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss kim. He returned it, but pulled back before it could go too far. Instead, he kissed down her stomach -ignoring her whines of protest- and settled between her legs.

Her head rolled back, a shout falling from her lips at the sudden feel of his mouth and tongue sinfully devouring her pussy. She looked down at him, his eyes closed as he held her firmly in place and savored her flavor. He was still fully clothed and something about the contrast turned her on even more.

Dean proceeded to lick, nip, suck, and kiss every line, crease, and fold, grunting and moaning with her flavor. Bringing a finger to her entrance he slid in slowly, feeling her tight, wet warmth accept him greedily. He hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations causing her hips to jerk involuntarily. As her walls relaxed, he added a second finger finding her sweet spot in a matter of seconds.

He thrust his hand fast and with a final harsh flick of his tongue against her clit she came, screaming loudly. Her walls clenched around his fingers, thighs trembling and chest heaving. He pumped his fingers harder, sucking on her clit and riding her through her orgasm, taking every ounce of it for himself greedily.

As she lay recovering, her body shaking from the force of her climax, he climbed from the bed, quickly removing his clothes and covering her body with his before she even had time to miss his warmth.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he breathed out, his heart beating hard in his chest at seeing the bliss swimming in her eyes.

Wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips to hers, she wrapped her legs around his hips, attempting to pull him as close as possible to her. Every hair on her body was standing on end and every inch of skin pined for his touch. Breathing heavily, her eyes flooded with need, she looked deep into his eyes.

“Please, Dean-” she whined, pressing her chest against his, “-I need you.”

"I need you too, so much," he swore, rutting his length against her wet folds, teasing them both and slicking himself up. Holding her gaze he slowly entered her core, both of them gasping at the slick slide.

As he bottomed out, she could feel herself fluttering around him, her walls relaxing for the exquisite stretch of his cock. Her hands clutched at his back, her thighs squeezing his hips. He places tender kisses along her skin as she adjusted, the shift of her hips and delicious moan letting him know she was ready.

She expected he might be hard and fast, but what she got was another side to Dean entirely. He slowly withdrew, every inch of him dragging against her walls, pushing back in at the same slow pace. He watched her face, kissing her sweetly, enjoying her.

He felt so good, so warm and solid and real, stretching her deliciously, his sweaty skin gliding against hers as the heat between them amped up. The slower pace had her mind focusing and feeling every spot in which they were connected. From his hands on her sides and hips, to his lips all over her face and neck, to her thigh against his hip. She was surrounded in all things Dean, all of him touching and loving all of her.

"Dean." She felt on the verge of tears, her heart swelling with her emotions, the tender look in his glistening eyes saying more than words ever could.

"I know, Baby," he kissed her deeply, lifting her leg higher against his side and increasing his pace slightly.

Dean had never experienced sex like this before, with an intensity and purpose far beyond just getting off. He wanted to feel her, to savor every inch of her, to enjoy the climb to the summit with her. Every move, every sound she made had him moaning and biting his lip, using all his self-control to maintain his gentler pace.

When she tilted her hips, her thighs clenching around him, he immediately hit her sweet spot, making her gasp and clutch him tighter. He slowed even further, his arms under her shoulders holding her close as he smirked down at her.

"Right there, Baby?" he asked, thrusting his hips just enough that the spongey head of his dick hit her sensitive g-spot.

She threw her head back into the pillow, a guttural moan ripped deep from her chest. He took the opening, lowering his mouth to suck a mark on her exposed throat. Rolling his hips with deep fluid strokes, he felt her walls ripple as she grew closer and closer to her peak.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard,” he promised, nipping at her ear lobe.

The moans fell from her lips with no control. It was a good thing he was holding onto to her so tightly, she felt like she might explode into a million pieces if he wasn't grounding her.

“Come for me, Baby. I wanna feel it,” he whispered in her ear, his breath panting in short bursts, his cock twitching inside her as he neared his own release.

Her eyes clenched shut, her breath held as his words pushed her dangerously to the edge. She tried to hold it back as long as she could, wanting to feel him just like this for as long as possible, but his relentless pounding made her efforts short-lived. Feeling him twitch inside her, hearing his grunts and hushed curses, her orgasm ripped through her entire being.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, watching her face as she climaxed in a beautiful explosion. His brow furrowed, his mouth hung open as she pulled him over the edge with her. He choked on a sound as his face fell to the crook of her neck, his hips pumping lazily until slowing to a stop. His body shook against hers before he slowly pulled from her, wincing at the effort.

Moving to lay beside her, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to lay on her side facing him. Leaning in, he captured her lips again, completely drunk on her. Turning to his back, he tucked her into his side, her arm draped across his middle.

I’m exhausted,” she giggled, “You’re amazing.”

He laughed, the post-coital bliss making his head spin. He wished it could always be like this. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, but Dean was hesitant to relax. He was terrified he'd wake up to find her gone again, or worse, that it was all a dream. Emotional and physical exhaustion won out in the end, so he gave in to the need to sleep, his arms still holding her close.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly came to consciousness. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he sat up a little, forcing his vision to focus. A bit of panic flared up in him, not immediately recognizing the room. Then he remember last night. Looking to the other side of the bed, it was empty, the sheets cool. The panic flared up again, wondering if she had left him like before.

He hastily dressed, donning his flannel after an unsuccessful attempt to find his t-shirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Dean made his way down the hall, peering into Ava's room and finding her gone as well. A sinking feeling landed in his stomach, twisting painfully.

The sound of familiar voices drew him through the house to the dining room. Ava was sat in her highchair, Sam and Mary sat either side of her, doting the small child with all of their attention and affection. His eyes drifted into the connected kitchen, seeing Y/N sipping on her coffee as she cooked breakfast.

Clearing his throat to annouce himself, Dean made his way to his mother first, leaning down and squeezing her shoulders as he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"Mornin', Mom," he smiled, before moving on to Ava to do the same. "Mornin', Precious." He simply gave Sam an acknowledging nod and his brother returned the gesture. With a deep breath, he made his way into the kitchen.

Now that his panic had subsided, he felt like a guilt fool. He couldn't help but think she'd left him again. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, eyeing Y/N from head to toe.

"That's why I couldn't find my t-shirt," he smirked, seeing her wearing said clothing with a pair of shorts.

She blushed and finished cooking, turning everything off and putting it on plates to table to the table. As Dean looked over the dining table, everyone he cared about most together and alive in once place. It was something he could definitely get used to.

"So, are you and Ava coming back to the Bunker with us?" Mary asked as they all dug into the food.

"Oh, she's coming back!" Sam argued, "Even if I have to hogtie her and throw her in the backseat."

"Sam!" Mary chastized.

"He's not the only one she left," Sam accused, pointing at Y/N.

"Sam," Y/N was heartbroken. Her and Sam had been close friends as well and in the midst of everything with Dean, she honestly hadn't thought about how it might affect him too. "I'm so sorry. I was afraid, of a lot of things. But I am coming back. Ava and I are coming home."

She knew it would take time for them to fully forgive her and trust her again. She was willing to put in the work, to be patient and understanding. It wasn't their fault this mess happened. This time, it was all on her, and she intended to fix it come hell or high water.

"Good," Sam nodded, casually digging back into his breakfast. "You hurt him again and I'm coming for you."

Even though he flashed her a playful grin, she knew he wasn't entirely joking. She nodded and smiled, letting him know she understood. She had no intentions of leaving ever again. She'd found her family. Or rather, they'd found her. Seeing everyone together, she wondered why she was ever afraid to begin with.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

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@leigh70

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DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

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[loosesodamarble]

the fictional men you mentioned are all so handsome can you tell where and what type of media are they from.

Aha... So I kinda forgot that this ask was in my inbox for a few days. But hey! Now I'm getting to it! Sorry to make you wait, Anon!

Hopefully, getting the answers you seek will satisfy you.

(For anyone who doesn't know what Anon is talking about, I made this post a few days back where I shared some of my favorite characters and explained their similarities.)

Now, onto the answers.

First off, are Nacht and Morgen Faust. The people who frequent my blog are most definitely already familiar with these two. They are my ultimate blorbos. Do not separate me from them. Anyways, they're from the manga and anime series Black Clover.

They're both introduced during the Spade Invasion arc so for any anime only-s out there, they don't get that much presence. In the manga though, oh boy is there stuff happening for those two!

.....

The lovely redhead I shared is Karma, from the dating sim Cinderella Phenomenon (and the fandisc Evermore).

I had so much fun when I played his route the first time. And OOOOHHHH! His story in the fandisc! And I think it's thanks to Karma that my love for weapon wielding love interests was solidified.

.....

The next (and only other) pair of characters from the same media are Saint Germain and Herlock Sholmés. They come from the dating sim Code Realize series (there's the original game "Guardian of Rebirth" along with two fandiscs, an anime adaptation, and a stage musical).

Their backstories are so tragic and I want only the best for them. The few moments when they're both on screen make me giddy, no joke. Also, I never thought I'd be into guys who wear top hats but then these two exist!

.....

The next character, Paschalia, is from the dating sim Radiant Tale (which had its fandisc [Radiant Tale Fanfare] released in English just this summer!).

I binged his route in one night and he's changed my brain chemistry~! I'm honestly putting off replaying his route for the good ending because I want to forget as much as possible and relive his story as fresh as I can.

.....

The next character I shared was Kageyuki Shiraishi, from the dating sim Collar x Malice.

He's such a funny little guy with his love of cats and inability to understand basic human decency. He's also very sad and his Tragic Love End has art that punched me in the gut, shook me down for cash, and then lovingly kissed me on the head before walking off.

.....

Lucas Proust from Virche Evermore: Error Salvation. (Also, not to brag but I pre-ordered the fandisc Epic Lycoris which I'm very much looking forward to this autumn.)

He literally gets done so dirty by the writers of the game. I want to fix his situation but I also want to see him continue to suffer because his misery is kinda beautiful.

.....

Blond #3 is the lovely Shion Mayuzumi from Variable Barricade.

Chronic kept man syndrome. Former model. Gaslighting king (I don't even know how much I'm exaggerating by saying that). Honestly, I want to indulge his laziness. He makes it so tempting...

.....

Bringing in style from the Kyoho era is Kinji from the game Winter's Wish: Spirits of Edo.

It's actually been a while since I've played Winter's Wish and Kinji's route specifically since I'm trying to complete, like, five games at once. But I do remember kicking my feet and giggling at the fluffy romance scenes.

.....

Next there's Orlok from the games Piofiore: Fated Memories and Piofiore: Episodio 1926.

He's such an adorable assassin! And he kills for the sake of the church he belongs to! Don't worry, he gets better. He's the love interest that gets Fuegoleon-ed in his good ending.

.....

And last but not least is Il Fado de Rie from Cafe Enchanté.

A literal angel of a man. So beautiful and divine and helpless and clueless. Also, very adorable that he has a love for dating sims while being a dating sim love interest.

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

AU Generator tag game

tagged by multiple people but this one is for the tag from this one was from @ian-galagher WILLOWWWW

rules (more or less): use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.

then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.

au generator gave me: school AU

fic trope generator gave me: Take a stab at a soulmark AU where you have the first thing your soulmates says to you like a birthmark on your body. (i fuckin LOVE IT)

title: Do You Know How Much A Polar Bear Weighs? Enough To Break The Ice

let's plot: fuck yeah this is cute and adorable.

It's the first day of school of Ian's freshmen year, it's science class and there's a few older students that were held back, Mickey is one of them.

The teacher has everyone fill out a "Classmate Bingo" card as a way to introduce the kids to one another and keep them occupied.

Mickey starts off not wanting to do shit but the teacher mentions whoever finishes in the top three gets a prize of some kind. He's up for it because if it's food it means he won't go hungry til the free school breakfast tomorrow. If it's extra credit he'll need all he can get to pass the class this year.

Ian is nervous and excited at the same time about starting a new school and a new class, he nervously goes around asking people questions correlating to the bingo card, "Can you do a cartwheel?" "Can you speak more than two languages?" until all of his squares are filled.

Mickey is falling behind already and it's pissing him off until he hears "Someone with a tattoo? is the teacher playing?" he turns to where he heard the voice and grins, the redhead hasn't been one to get crossed off his list and he beelines it to Ian.

"Fuck You Up Red. " He says showing his knuckle tattoos to Ian.

Ian grins and holds out his bingo card where Mickey can sign his name, when he starts to feel a tingling sensation on his ribs, almost like someone was tickling him.

He giggled a little as he looked at the bingo card Mickey thrusts at him.

He catches Mickey's eye as he crosses off "can touch tongue to nose" and at Mickey's bewildered look he said "That's not the only thing I can do with my tongue." before breaking into a deep scarlet blush not realizing the innuendo he just said.

Mickey feels a tingling on his ribs and curious he cocks an eyebrow, "What the fuck do you mean Red?"

Ian stammers out, "I mean I can roll it into a clover shape."

Mickey rolls his eyes with a laugh, "Made it sound like you were sucking dick or something red."

Ian is still blazing crimson when as a way of escape he slaps the bingo paper on the teachers desk and grabs the bathroom pass.

He practically runs out of the classroom and goes to the bathroom trying to keep the flames from blazing down the rest of his skin.

While he's hanging in a stall he texts Fiona about the tingling on his ribs and she asks if he got bit by something.

He raises his shirt to inspect the area and sees "Fuck You Up Red" in black script along his ribs.

his eyes widen in shock and he goes back to class, not sure whether to bombard Mickey or give him space.

He finally decides to go and sit next to Mickey after he gets back, moving desk groups to Mickey's where he is the only one.

"The fuck you want Red?" Mickey asks when Ian comes to sit by him.

Ian's blush is back, or it never faded, "I uh figured you helped me finish the bingo card, is it okay if I sit here?"

Mickey shrugs and rubs his ribs absentmindedly.

Ian's eyes widen and he says, "Did you get a mosquito bite there too? Strange I got one earlier, have a big mark now."

"I fucking hate mosquitoes." Mickey mutters moving to lift his shirt.

"NO!" Ian shouts, shocking Mickey enough to drop his shirt, and the rest of the class enough to have all twenty pairs of eyes on him.

As his blush burns he stammers, "Sorry, thought I saw a spider."

The rest of the class goes back to what they were doing and Ian turns to Mickey, who is studying him with peaked brows.

"Um, You might want to do that in the bathroom, when I saw mine it was very um surprising, I couldn't believe it." Ian stammered.

Mickey rolled his eyes but got up and grabbed the bathroom pass, going to the bathroom.

When he gets there he raises his shirt and looks at it in the mirror.

And feels like he is going to pass out at the words engraved there.

anyone who hasn't been tagged feel free!

[giggly-squiggily]

Top five comfort characters? :3

Under the cut cause this got long because (mostly due to pictures) FEELINGS

5.) James "Jem" Carstairs- The Infernal Devices Series

My actual HUSBAND. I love, love, LOVE Jem to death- he's the literal sweetest, most patient angel a person could ever ask for. His big shining moments are of course in the Clockworks, but throughout the entirety of the Shadowhunter Chronicles he's just such a sweetie? I'm rereading the series in prep for the Lost Hours trilogy and I've been reminded of how much I love him.

4.) Therion- Octopath Traveler

Listen- I adore him? I love Octopath Traveler, and I'm loving Octopath Traveler 2 recently. I can't say for certain who's my comfort character yet for the new game, but the OG? This man. Sarcastic, speedy, kinda dumb but in the best way? He's a bit of a Hawks-like character only more cynical. I could yell about him for hours, that's how much I love him. And he's a Theif! :D

3.) Langa Hasegawa- Sk8 The Infinity

Snow baby- my literal angel. I love him so freaking much it hurts! Langa is a doll and deserves the entire world plus some. He was an instant fave for me when I started watching Sk8- something I hadn't expected! (I was for sure it was gonna be Cherry who took my heart and soul! Like- he did. But Langa got there first). Just look at that SMILE!!!

2.) Misturi Kanroji- Demon Slayer

This wouldn't be a comfort list without Misturi! My babygirl- the sweetest angel of the Hashira who deserves only happiness and love. Sometimes I pretend to be her when I have to do something brave because she's such a strong and optimistic character aljerjajkrekrakj But yes- my girl!

1.) Chigiri Hyoma- Blue Lock

Is anyone surprised? Love at first sight- this one. I relate to Chigiri's backstory so hard? I tore my MCL back in middle school, so not the same ligament but definitely a relatable recovery story. Between that, his entire character, and the fact I am WEAK for fictional redheads; my newest comfort character has arrived! (Also just realized Chigi shares at least one attribute with everyone previously mentioned. This was destined to happen kjdarkjekjreajkr)

Thanks for asking! :D

[drivergemini]

california sun :: b.h.

summary: max always told stories about a brother she left in california. who knew that leaving hawkins after high school would bring y/n straight to the legend himself.

warnings: story is not canon compliant, non supernatural au, few swears, max loves billy and billy isn’t an arrogant asshole, y/n is just a little airheaded but only if you read into it 

word count: 1694

she remembered the sad look in the redhead’s eyes when she first met her. maxine mayfield was her name. she remembers opening the door and seeing the two gingers standing in front of her. maxine was the first and only girl y/n ever baby sat. she was only 13 at the time, but the older redheaded woman seemed desperate to be alone without her 7 year old daughter. 

she remembered sitting across the dining room table from maxine. she made her a plate of chicken nuggets and mac & cheese. she watched as she pushed around the food on her plate, scraping the metal fork against the ceramic.

“so maxine...” y/n broke the silence.

“max. my name is max.” the girl’s piercing blue eyes looked right as y/n. she stopped moving her forced.

“where are you from i’ve never seen you before.”

max sets down the fork. “california, southern california.”

y/n perked up. even at a young age she knew that no one in their right mind would move to hawkins, especially not from a place like that. “it’s always been, my dream to live in california!”

“mine too...” may looked back down at the plate of food. “i wish we never moved here.”

she heard a small sniffle come from max. “hey hawkins isn’t too bad. there’s so many great stuff here.”

“but there’s no billy.” max whispered to herself.

“there’s no who?”

“billy. i miss him so so much.” she started to grip the table. “he was the coolest and he listened to the coolest music and had the coolest hair. he let me shave it off for him. and he knew how to surf and he told me that his mom taught him to surf and he taught me how to surf. and he was my favorite person in the whole world.” max’s words faltered near the end.

“so billy is your..?” 

“he’s my brother. well not really said my mom but i think he’s still my brother.” max went on about how her mom and billy’s dad were married and then they weren’t married.

soon enough they found themselves sitting in the living room, max still going on and on about her cool older brother.

- 

“you know i would do anything to take you with me max.” y/n pinched her cheek.

“ew you’re like a grandma.” max laughed and opened her arms up for a hug. “i wish i could come to college with you.” 

“in a few years you could try and come to cali for college too and maybe we could even live together.” y/n sang the last part. never in her life did she expect her best friend to be 4 years younger than her but here they were. 

“hey y/n... if you see happen to see billy can you tell him i miss him?” 

she squeezed her friend tighter “of course max.” 

- 

whatever she expected from college, she did not get. y/n found herself in a small dorm with a roomate who wasn’t too fond of small town girls. she spent so much time at the library or working at the campus smoothie bar just to get away from her. 

y/n scanned the shelves of the non fiction section to find a book on da vinci’s ideas on anatomy. she didn’t realize studying art history would require a lot of, well studying. 

she stood on her tip toes when she found it. before she could reach it, she saw a toned arm out of the corner of her eye. the arm grabbed the exact book she was looking for. 

she turned her head to see a tall, muscular man handing her the book. she looked at his blond tied back mullet and opened her mouth to speak.

“is this the book you were trying to get?” he voice was husky, but it wasn’t low. 

she continued to just stare at the man before her. wow y/n creepy move on your behalf.

“um- uh- yeah. i um- thanks.” she took the book out of his hand. 

“you’re welcome i always try and help when pretty girls are in need.” he smirked. jesus were people in this state so bold to just share their feelings.

y/n’s face turned red. “i- thank you. you are also very pretty.” shit. really y/n? pretty? that’s the best you can come up with?

the blond chuckled slightly. “i do consider myself a pretty fella.” he held out his hand for her to shake. “i’m william.”

“y/n.” she shook his hand feeling the hard callouses against his palms. 

“so this might be a long shot, but do you want to go down to the beach with me?” y/n thought to herself that going to the beach with a man she just met was dangerous. but then again, this stranger was beautiful. 

“yeah sure.” this was a weird scenario that she would never be in. but something in her mind was telling her that she should go with william.

they ended up on the sands of the santa monica pier. she watched as the blond stripped off his shirt and placed his butt on the sand right next to her. the sun glared against his tanned and toned body. y/n wanted to run her fingers over his shoulders. 

william took the sunglasses that sat on his face and placed them on his head. “so did you grow up in california?”

“no absolutely not. indiana. a small town called hawkins.” she made a hand gesture at the name of her town, like she was presenting something magnificant. “did you grow up here?”

“yup. true california boy. surfing and smoking is basically my only personality.” 

y/n nudged into his body and laughed. “i wish i knew how to surf. my best friend back in hawkins always talked about how she loved to surf when she was younger. do you think you’d be able to teach me?”

“woahhhh, first date is going so well that you already are asking for a second?” he let out a fake shocked look. 

“well that depends, are you gonna teach me for free or are you going to make me pay you?” y/n raised her eyebrows.

“i know one way you could pay me right now.” william placed his hand on her cheek and leaned towards her face. they met in the middle and he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

y/n felt her face get slightly hot. “jesus i have never even seen you surf how do i know your a good teacher?”

“i have been surfing since i could remember. and i have taught surfing before if you’d like to know. and she was the one of the most bad ass bitch i have ever met to this day.”

“oooooo she?” y/n teased poking his arm. 

“uh uh calm down. she is my little sister, or at least was my sister. she was a classic california boy, surfing and skating. except you know, in like a tiny little human.” he looked towards the ocean. “she was the best. but she moved to god knows where.”

“i’m sorry that sounds like it sucks. when’s the last time you talked to her?” she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“i’m honestly not even sure. maybe when i was in high school?” he let out a heavy sigh. “her name was maxine.” he let out the last sentence like she was dead.

y/n shot up. “billy?! billy hargrove?!” she looked at the blond before her with a face of confusion.

“excuse me? do you know who i am?” the blond’s face was slightly painted with fear.

“know you? know you?! how am i so dumb! how didn’t i connect it?” she stood up and pointed at him. “you’re max’s brother! the one she told me about?”

at the sound of his sisters name he also stood up. “you know max?” he felt like he was going to throw up, but in a good exciting way. “i swear you better not be fucking with me.”

“max is my best friend! i basically raised max mayfield. she moved to hawkins with her mom after california” 

william’s face sported a more excited look. “oh my god i can’t believe you know max!” he got so excited that he hugged y/n, lifting her into the air and spinning her around. “can you tell me about her? and what she’s been up to?” 

“of course i can.” y/n smiled at the boy and leaned in for another kiss. ‘

-

billy and y/n giggled as the phone rang, shushing each other when the the other end answered. they both wore thick sweaters to deal with the cold indiana air.

“mayfield residence. max speaking.” she could hear a bored max on the other end.

“max it’s y/n!” 

“y/n?! jesus i was wondering when you were gonna call again. i was beginning to think you forgot about me.” 

“forget about you? i’m back in hawkins for winter break! can i come see you?”

“you’re back? and you didn’t tell me? get over hear right now before i kick your ass.” y/n could hear max laugh and then the receiver click.

both adults ran outside to the blue camaro they drove from california and headed over to the mayfield house. 

billy was playing rock loudly through the speakers, looking over at y/n ever so often. he would smile at her in between the lyrics. 

when he pulled into the driveway of the house, he felt his palms get slightly sweaty. 

“you’ll be okay.” y/n squeezed his hand which was instantly relieving. 

y/n entered the house first, billy could hear the squeals and jumping of the two girls. he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“a boyfriend? and he’s here?” billy heard faintly. he felt this was his cue to walk through the door. 

max’s mouth hung open, eyes wide as saucers.

“max this is my boyfriend...”

“billy?????” max blurted out. billy smiled wide and opened his arms for a hug. max ran into his arms and squeezed him so hard billy didn’t know if she’d let go.

it wasn’t sunny california, but maybe hawkins wasn’t so bad. 

[xxxsharpcheddar]

Fat Camp Part 1

FFA/BHM fiction. Always been a dream to go to a fattening camp instead of a fat camp. This is just setting the stage.

“Looking for volunteer opportunities for the summer shouldn’t be this hard,” I complain to my friend and confidant.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places. Try something you’re passionate about. Like, I dunno, a sports camp or something.”

Actually not a bad idea. I call a few and most are either too far away or booked up. When I’m about to give up, I get a call.

“Hi! We are very interested in having you participate in our camp...” the woman on the phone quickly goes over my credentials and says I’d be the perfect fit. I don’t question too much about my role because I figure I can look at the description later. I’m just happy to have found one!

As promised, there’s an email disclosing more information later that evening. I scroll through it, glossing over many sections and happen upon a non disclosure agreement. ...that’s odd? Without giving it too much thought, I sign, date, and submit.

A week later, I’m supposed to meet at one of their local branches so their shuttle can take me to their main campus further north. As with anything, I’ve procrastinated going over the documents in more detail, so I decided to do it on the way to the camp.

After the driver and I exchange pleasantries, I realize just how vague the documents are. Maybe they want us to come up with some of the curricula? I’ve heard of that approach being used more to get the coordinators out of doing more work, but I don’t mind.

Upon arrival, I’m escorted to a quaint main lobby. A cute freckled redhead greets me and explains I’ll be the only one in orientation today. To start, she remarks on some of my “selling points” that stood out from other applicants and leads me to an intimate office, shutting the door behind her.

“I’ll take those. Thank you,” she files my paperwork and takes out a blank manilla folder. “Great. Now that we have your non disclosure agreement, we can really get talking. You were hard to find.”

I immediately tense up and glance at the shut door next to me. Freckles giggles.

“I’m sorry! I just love starting it off like that. It gets everyone every time.” Her warm smile eases me back into a bit of cautious comfort.

“To be honest, I think you’re really gonna like it here. There’s a lot of us that share a certain... je ne sais quoi.” She waits for me to say something, but I silently decline.

“Well, this isn’t an ordinary camp.” Yeah, no shit, I think. “Before you ask how we found you, just know you have someone very influential here who spoke very highly of you.”

“Who? Okay, what is this? You’re starting to freak me out.” I confess.

Freckles smiles coyly. “I’d like you to see for yourself. But you might want to take a look at this first.”

She hands me more documents from the manilla folder. Weights, ages, heights, and genders are listed on the first page. Two through seven include before and after images...all bigger in the “after” image. I gulp as I realize what this is. But how did they find me?! How did they know?!

“Nervous? Excited?” I jump, almost forgetting Freckles is still here. “Yes.” I whisper. “But how did you...” she cuts me off.

“How did we find you? Simple algorithm. And a friend may have tipped us off.” She allowed me to process what was happening and smiled reassuringly. “Whenever you’re ready, we can take a tour. And you’ll probably have questions.” I nodded in response. How the hell did they find me?!

“The tour?” I ask, still shell shocked.

“Right this way,” her smile eased me a little more.

“A lot of planning went into this, and not everything is everyone’s cup of tea, but we want everyone to feel welcome here. This is a favorite...want to take a guess?” I shake my head as she leads me to a small office.

The door creaks open and is plainly decorated with a scale, exam chair, and a BMI chart hung to the wall. That’s when it clicks. I’m in a fantasy.

I look at Freckles for confirmation and she nods. “So you’re a...?”

“Yup. FFA, in the flesh.” She smiles proudly.

“And this is a...?”

“Yup. Fat Camp.” The confirmation is almost too good to be true.

I take a closer look inside and open various cabinets. One holds measuring tape and a stash of candy and snacks. Another contains charts and clipboards to update the “patient’s” metrics. The last one has hospital gowns and one of those fancy body scanners that break down everything from your skeletal mass to your water weight. “Wow,” I marvel.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Again, I almost forgot I wasn’t alone.

“What else is there?” I’m getting excited now.

“Plenty. I’ll save the best for last, but we’ve got just about any room for any kink related to...weight gain,” she noted respectfully. “Everything from pig pens to force feeding to public humiliation. We’ve got most of it, but we’re always open to suggestions.”

“Are there any people here? Like...”

“Like fat people? Of course! I was saving it for last but now’s actually the perfect time since they’ll all be at lunch.”

Freckles (man I wish I could remember her name) lead me to a great cafeteria hall. Automatic doors whooshed open and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Oh. My. God. I’ve never seen so many glorious obese people before. There were some chubby people tossed in there and a few thinner ones. Freckles laughed at my reaction. “Isn’t it amazing? I never get tired of this.” My mouth still hanging open, I nod.

“Anne! Your new recruit?” One of the fatties makes his way over to us before getting in line for the enormous lunch. “Yes! Leslie, meet Andrew. He’s one of our newer members.”

“Pleasure,” he took my hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry, the effect wears off, well, never, if you’re Anne,” to which she blushed. I’m sure my cheeks did the same, but I tried smiling.

“Well, I’m starving. They’re barely feeding us here!” He grabbed his belly and I immediately felt my cheeks redden again.

“Oh you stop it! It’s her first day,” Anne glowered at him and with that, he winked at me and got in line.

“Is this real life? How does this work?”

“Yes, this is very much real life. And we have a couple of options. Most of our feeders and admirers start off with a few members and then narrow it down to their favorites. We’ll introduce you to some who we think might be a good fit, and you can go from there. We have lists of their interests, in and outside of the kink, so after this all sinks in we’ll ask you to complete that form. Sound good?” I nod, barely comprehending.

“Don’t worry, we always have a packet prepared for our newbies. I’ll get it to you by the end of the day.” I smiled graciously. How is this real?

“So...see anyone who catches your eye?” She leaned in close and I felt like two girls gossiping about our first crush.

“Hmmm,” I paused to scan the room. So much fat. So much weight on the poor stadium-like benches. So many obese bodies. “Him,” I point to a fatty laughing, his fat jiggling. “And Andrew was pretty cute,” I admitted.

“He was excited for you to get here. When he heard we got a thin recruit, he about lost it. He’s a big fan of contrast, too.” I blushed, already imagining weighing him later and forcing that pesky little measuring tape around his middle.

I’m escorted to my room to unpack and get a lay of the land. The room is so small it sits a small desk with an old HP and a twin size bed, but at least there’s a private bathroom.

“Just remember to submit your forms tomorrow. You can send a digital copy if that’s easier, but the wifi can be spotty.”

“Thanks. By the way, who’s that ‘friend’ of mine you kept referring to?”

Anne’s face lit up. “Oh! I can’t believe I forgot to tell them. A few of your old friends from Tumblr recommended you. We didn’t know how to find you for the longest time”

“Shut up!” I said in disbelief.

“Yup. They might be here tomorrow. Well, I’ll let you get settled. If you can’t find me in my office, I’m in room 205.”

“Thanks,” I smile, realizing how exhausted I am from the sheer shock of the day.

I submit my forms, shower, and crawl into bed, ready to dream of what’s to come.

The next day a PA system announces breakfast. I head to the cafeteria where lunch was held and the scent of bacon, biscuits and gravy, and pastries hit me like a wave. Apparently, they also have healthier options for us admirers. 

“Hey, newbie!” Andrew spots me and waves me over. “Hungry?” He asks. I smile and nod. “Good.”

He walks with me to the food line and we strike up a pleasant conversation. We discuss how we each discovered this place and he points out some other admirers. “I love sitting by them. They always get so flustered,” he smirked. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” He had two giant platefuls of food, making my modest portion of eggs and fruit look meek. 

“Hello ladies, they’s, and gays,” Andrew stood towering over the slim people at a table in the corner. 

“Hi, Andrew,” one of the attractive guys purred. 

Andrew leaned over to whisper in my ear while making eye contact with the guy who just greeted him. “He’s still trying to convince me I could be gay,” and the guy winked. I giggled and introduced myself to the table.

“Sit, sit!” They encouraged. “Andrew, honey, you can sit next to me,” the guy patted the seat next to him.

“I’m gonna sit next to our new recruit, thanks,” to which I immediately blushed.

“Aw, I still get flustered like that too!” One of the girls piped up. “I never do get used to it.” 

Even with the customized seating, Andrew still struggles a bit to plop down. Sitting next to me, he looks somehow larger, like everything had a chance to melt down into the seat. Something about his confidence and goofy personality had me entranced...and it was only the first day. 

“So, you ever feed someone?” Another girl with sleek black hair asks. I shake my head and they all look at Andrew who’s happily scarfing down plate number one.

“Oh, he’ll let you!” The girl with black hair indicated towards Andrew, shoveling a forkful of pancakes.

“Huh?” He muffled. “Oh, for her, of course,” he managed to get out after he finished his bite. I could feel myself blushing. In front of all these people? At breakfast?

“Here, it’s okay.” He handed me his fork and I swear my hand was shaking with nerves.

I pierced a bite of pancake smothered in syrup and guided it towards his lips. He closed his eyes and moaned for dramatic effect, placing his hands on his belly. The table laughed and black-haired girl admonished him for making such a spectacle of it.

“What? I wanted to give her a taste of it...literally.” Andrew laughed and I watched his belly jiggle. This must be heaven.

Desperate to get my bearings after the little show he put on, I asked what activities they had. Apparently there are multiple pools and a gym. The dual purpose is for the fit admirers to stay in shape but to also use to watch your chosen fatty struggle to exercise, or just have some private time in the pool. They explained some of the different rooms for different fantasies and every Friday is happy hour where you can mingle and get to know everyone.

“Did you read the last, stupid rule?” The gay guy asked, rolling his eyes. “The only rule that matters is that we’re not allowed to have sex with anyone. Ugh. Unless you want to be monogamous, but how can you be with all these glorious creatures?”

“He’s just selfish. Wants them all to himself,” a different guy responded.

“Duh!” The cute gay laughed, making the rest of us smile. 

“Do people ever get jealous?”

“Of course. There’s always drama. Usually nothing a double stuffing can’t cure. These girls were fighting over one of the new guys and he suggested they both do it and poof, frenemies for life.” 

I laughed, thinking that was the best case scenario. I didn’t have my eye on anyone else yet, as Andrew had taken my attention. 

After breakfast, Anne wrangled me and some other “recruits” for a brief orientation. There were only a few of us, and we were each handed a pamphlet with our matches, though Anne explained we could ultimately choose whomever we wanted. During happy hour, we’d be able to chat with each of our potential matches. I flipped through my list and was disappointed Andrew wasn’t on there. There were, however, some pretty big cuties. 

It was nice to talk to some other newbies who still felt out of place and overwhelmed, our eyes brightening with excitement and nervousness for tonight. We exchanged pamphlets and commented on them like gossiping teenagers looking through a yearbook. 

A few of the girls and I decided to get ready for happy hour together. I didn’t pack many cute outfits considering I thought this was a real summer camp, but to our surprise, there was a closet with just about every size cocktail dress, heels, you name it. A sweet girl named Jennifer helped me decide on a cowl neck little black dress that showed off my legs and butt. Some applied makeup, others curled their hair, and some just talked about how magnificent the night would be. The extra nervous ones, myself included, made sure to dab a little more deodorant than usual and had a good laugh.

“I’m so scared!” Jennifer squealed. 

“Let’s go!” I grabbed her hand and we paraded to the cafeteria. The tables had been moved to allow for a dance floor, and a bar served various cocktails while music played softly in the background to allow for conversation. There were a few tables with hors d'oeuvres. The room probably looked fuller than it was due to the size of many of the large bodies. Our potential matches were strung throughout the room and politely introduced themselves one by one.

I thoroughly enjoyed their company, but secretly wished Andrew was there. Anne made an announcement that the rest of the camp would be attending within the next half hour, so to wrap up the formal introductions. After meeting with all of my matches, I grabbed another drink and sat down.

“Someone looks like they’re having fun.” I whipped around to see who it was. Andrew!

“Oh, hi,” I smiled warmly and stood up to greet him.

“Whoa! My god, look at that dress,” he took my hand and spun me around. I felt like a princess. 

“Thank you,” I practically whispered. He looked amazing, too. He wore a short sleeved button-down, that appeared to have more room at some point, with a navy blue undershirt. His overhang covered the waistband on his khaki pants. 

“You look great,” I said, still looking at his body.

“Ah, this old thing. So, how were your matches?” He cut to the chase. 

“They were nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?” He pressed. I smiled, not knowing what else to say. 

“What are you drinking? It’s on me,” he indicated towards my almost empty glass that I must’ve been swigging with nerves.

“Oh, that’s sweet. Whiskey sour,” I blushed.

“Ah, a whiskey girl. Be right back,” he walked confidently towards the bar.

Jennifer came up to me and asked how my matches were. We talked a bit but she could tell my attention was on Andrew.

“God, he is really cute, isn’t he? A little big for my taste, but for you...” she smiled and I felt my cheeks redden. “Have fun,” she smirked and left as Andrew came back with two drinks.

We talked a bit and I found myself more and more entranced. I noticed a few girls, and guys, occasionally murmur, clearly talking about us. 

“So, I’m sure I’m not the first to be honored with your presence,” I fake curtsied and he laughed.

“Well, no. That’s just kind of how it is here. You meet people and experiment. But it’s crazy how they found someone my type like you.”

“Then why didn’t we match? I asked, almost angrily. He shrugged.

“Probably to piss me off. Just kidding, but I was really hoping you’d still want to see me tonight,” he confessed.

I smiled and nodded. The songs started picking up and I asked him if he wanted to dance with me. 

“Oh my God, I probably can’t last that long, but sure.” He held my hand and guided me to the dance floor. We didn’t touch at first - just danced within a few inches of each other. When the song became more sultry, I found the courage to place his hands around my waist as I rolled my hips into him. 

“God, you’re so small,” he marveled. My hands found his fat love handles and squeezed him closer to me. He was already sweating so I figured we had about one more song left. I turned around and pressed my ass in between where his hips must be if they weren’t buried in fat. He gently held my waist and I could feel him harden behind me. I danced purposefully now, making sure my ass pressed into him. 

“You can’t be doing this to me,” he breathed. I smiled to myself and continued teasing him with my body until the end of the song. 

“Wait, don’t move yet.” He grabbed my arm and I knew it was because he was still hard. “Uh, spiders, spiders, spiders. Grandma naked. Okay, I’m good,” he allowed me to lead us back to a table and I stifled a laugh. 

“How much do you weigh?” I asked, finally loosening up.

“Ah, the important questions. How much do you want me to weigh?” Flustered once again, I looked down but he held my gaze. I looked back up and shrugged.

“You tell me, I’ll tell you.” Bargaining. Deal.

“Like...four hundred.” I admitted. I always thought at least 400 was a great weight...to start.

“Ah, so 415 is too much, then?” I knew my eyes widened because he suppressed a grin.

“No, definitely not.” I confessed.

“Didn’t think so,” his hazel eyes burned through me. His double chin was so inviting, begging to be kissed. My hands ached to touch his body. “Want to go somewhere a little more private?” He whispered, his breath tickling my neck. I nodded.

Hand in hand, he quickly checked to see if anyone was watching, and lead me through double doors. We turned a few corners and we arrived at an indoor pool. “Come on!” He exclaimed.

“Won’t we get in trouble?” I hesitated.

“Nah, they’re busy chaperoning the horny happy hour.” He slid out of his button down and quickly peeled off his shirt, leaving me to stare at him in wonder. He giggled and lifted his belly to undo his belt. I was still nervous so I watched him undress, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his pants in a frenzy. I unstrapped my heels and sat at the edge of the pool.

“Oh, come on! That’s no fun!” Andrew complained, now standing in nothing but his tight boxers. 

“If you get in, I promise I will,” I admitted.

“Deal,” he cannonballed into the water, soaking me in the process. I let out a scream and when he resurfaced, he put a finger to my mouth to shush me. “Shh, we’re not supposed to be here,” he whispered and I clapped my hand over my mouth. He placed his hands on either side of my legs. 

“Fuck it.” I jumped in, still in my black dress since it was already soaked. When I resurfaced, Andrew wrapped his arms around me.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed. The only thing separating us was the thin fabric of my dress as he held me. I desperately wanted to feel our bodies, skin to skin, pressed up against each other. Slowly and deliberately, I climbed out of the pool, my dress completely stuck to me like shrink-wrap. Andrew watched intently as I fought my way out of it, standing in just a bra and thong. 

“My God. Get back over here,” he commanded.

“Say please,” I countered.

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m begging.” To which I replied by sliding back into the pool like a water moccasin, slithering towards my prey.

He held me so gently and I immediately squished myself up into him, tucking my head in his shoulder. I wrapped my legs around his fat body as best I could, hanging on like a koala. Even with the smallest movement of water, I could feel his overhang sway gently, as if it was its own entity. We didn’t say anything. We just clung onto each other. I closed my eyes and let out a faint “mmm,” as he rubbed my back. I picked my head up to look him in the eyes, desperate to convey my message, “kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,” when I heard quickening footsteps. The double doors flung open and there was Anne with Jennifer close behind.

-- To be continued --

[wandaromanova]

for blurb night, maybe one where r hasn’t kissed anyone before nat(also pls include their first kiss in it ahhh) and she’s insecure about that but then nat reassures her and says, ‘i’ve never kissed anyone i loved, until you’ or smth like that

Warnings: like one cuss word

A/N: i decided to just do a first kiss scenario! hope that’s okay with you, anon <3

blurb requests are closed

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You were currently sat on the rooftop of the Compound, sitting beside Natasha on the ledge. Your legs dangled off the side of the building as the two of you stared down at the busy city, your fingers intertwined.

You’d been dating Natasha for a few months now and things have been great. She treated you like royalty compared to the assholes you’d dated in the past. 

She was extremely caring and attentive. She didn’t just talk about herself, but she asked about you. Natasha wasn’t out to get anything out of you, she simply wanted your attention and that was something you’d give to her any day. 

Despite being with the redhead for some time now, there was a line you two haven’t crossed yet. You’re probably thinking sex and yeah, you guys definitely hadn’t done that either, but what you had in mind was a more innocent gesture; kissing. 

You’d dated people before Natasha, but those relationships (if you could even call them that), had never lasted long enough to get to that next step.

You turned your head to the side and admired your girlfriend. The sun was setting and the golden glow lit her face up and accentuated her green eyes, little specs of hazel present in her irises. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She looked ethereal. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha sensed your staring and tilted her head, eyes locking onto yours. There was a small smile on your face and you felt your heart flutter as your eyes fell to her lips. 

“See something you like?” Natasha’s voice never failed to give you butterflies. The rasp behind her deep tone made you feel something you’ve never felt for someone else before; desire. 

“Yeah, actually.” Your eyes remained on her plump lips, instinctively licking your own. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at your blatant staring. 

“Then take it.” The redhead spoke challengingly and you felt a wave of shyness overcome you. You looked up to her eyes once more nervously.

“I would, but I don’t know how to.” Natasha’s flirtatious look turned to one of curiosity. You felt her thumb brush the back of your hand soothingly. 

“Then let me show you.” Natasha slowly leaned forward. She wanted to give you enough time to back away if you changed your mind, but you didn’t.

Instead, you moved toward her and met her lips in the middle. You let out a gasp as her soft lips collided with yours. The gentleness of the movement made you feel lightheaded. 

You could feel how much care the redhead held for you in the kiss. It took you a minute to match Natasha’s pace, but when you did, you felt like you were on Cloud Nine.

You always thought that the descriptions of sparks and all of that jazz in books and movies were fictional, but now? You realized that those works of art never did this scenario justice. 

Sparks? More like fucking lightning during a thunderstorm. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and yearned for more. 

Natasha was the first to break the kiss, much to your dismay. You kept your eyes closed, a blissed-out look plastered across your face. 

The sound of the redhead’s laughter brought you back down to earth. You were met with bright green eyes shining at you happily. You couldn’t help the fit of giggles that erupted from your stomach. 

You felt like a schoolgirl that just had her first kiss during recess with her crush. And in a way, that’s exactly what you were.

“If it makes you feel any better, that was a first for me too.” Natasha spoke as her other hand reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You’ve never kissed anyone before too?” The Russian’s hand planted itself on your cheek and you leaned into the touch. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“No, I have. But I’ve never kissed anyone that meant so much to me before.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Your heart rate increased rapidly at her words. You felt as though words couldn’t describe how grateful you were to have her. 

So, you took advantage of your new alternative; you kissed her again. 

You felt as if you were at an amusement park and were terrified to ride any of the attractions. Until you’d gotten onto a rollercoaster and ended up absolutely loving the adrenaline rush. 

You’d overcome your fear and realized how irrational your worries had been. Terror was replaced with excitement and now you wanted to experience the entirety of the park.

In other words, you wanted everything and anything that had to do with Natasha Romanoff. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

taglist: @ledollarbean-em @perfectromanoff @aliancvnas @ultimateskyscraper @marvelwomenslut @chaekhan @rvselie @brieswife @imasimpfornatashamaximoff @natashaswifey @prentisshoe @mcubreakdown101 @yeetus-thyself @multiyfandomgirl40 @kindofasimp @007giu @weelight @scotts-orange-slices @puppy-danvers2016 @acertainredhead @jdougl-love @bi-rdofprey-writes @mindofwesley @shatteredlovesick @lostandsearching @tquick99 @rachel146 @illloveyou @thewidowsghost @uraveragelonelygay @useless-wlw-fangirl @pattypavo @wandasgirlfriend @sapphic-stress @olicity-boo @summergeezburr @ycfwmalise14 @suki-is-a-queen @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @romanovaslut @hagridsmomma @ooobviouslyyyy @chasethemoon @blurryylines @spxncervibes @yeeterthekeeper @maximoff-jp @midnight-lestrange

[gogolucky13]

Picking Up the Pieces [3/3]

Summary: Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not. [Modern AU]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff (mentioned), Steve Rogers x f!Reader (mentioned)

Word count: 2,345

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending). Smut (not explicit). Swearing. (18+ only please).

A/N: The conclusion for my submission to @firefly-in-darkness​ 2k Follower Challenge! I’m so overwhelmed and grateful for all the love and interest in this story, thank you all so much 😭 I really hope this ending is good enough, and I’m sorry if it upsets anyone-it’s just fiction right?! Anyways, congratulations again, Daisy! And thank you for letting me take part in your challenge. It was a lot of fun! Hope you like! 😊💜 gif not mine.

Part One // Part Two

It’s been too long without you. Too long since Bucky has been able to see you, talk to you, just hold you. If he would’ve known the last time he was with you would’ve been the last time, he might’ve done something. Did more to convince you that he cares, said more to assure you he really is yours. 

The three weeks after he last saw you might have been the longest of his life. No contact, not even a text from you, and it was killing him. To go from talking everyday to complete radio silence had his head and heart hurting, and stomach twisting in knots of nausea.

He tried to reach out, to understand what happened, if he did something. But his efforts were left unanswered and he eventually gave up. Finally accepting you wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

He isn’t stupid. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and it’s hurting you. Always calling upon you to fill the void in his heart that Natasha never could. But he can’t help himself. He’s a selfish bastard and he knows it. 

A constant is what you’ve been for him since the first time you met. His person that brought him happiness and support, comfort and yes, love. Again, he isn’t stupid. He knows you love him, that you hope one day he will finally gather enough courage to ask you to be more than a friend. But he never finds it and he hates himself for it.

Because as he got to know you, Bucky realized he would never be good enough for you. His examples of a loving, caring relationship growing up weren’t ideal, and he never figured out how to fully give himself to someone. The best he could offer you was something physical, and when you took it, he ran with it.

Then he met Natasha. This beautiful, flirty redhead at his gym, someone who he could try to make a relationship work. She wasn’t you. He was always painfully reminded of that fact when she looked at him or smiled at him. Her looks never as endearing, and her smiles never as comforting. 

It was obvious their relationship wasn’t truly going anywhere. There were hardly any conversations about what the next steps would be. Move in together? Get a dog together? Even Natasha was aware their future was murky. But she stayed, probably because she’s just as insecure and too scared to ask what his intentions really were.

And for some reason he stayed, too. Pushed through the mediocre connection for what, he doesn’t honestly know. Maybe to prove to himself he can make a relationship work, but that was a bust after the first argument, then the countless ones after that. Plus, you were always there to pick up the pieces, and habits are hard to break.

So now he sits like a fucking pathetic piece of shit staring helplessly at your contact information on his phone. Lost, miserable, heartbroken.

When he saw you with him the other night, he knew. It made him sick to his stomach and he knew what needed to be done. He broke up with Natasha that same night, and since then he’s been pussy-footing around getting into contact with you.

He wants to text you and call you, but it’ll be futile considering how you reacted to him at Sam’s party. Not to mention the weeks you ignored him leading up to that night. He knows you owe him no explanation and have every right to cut him off without a single reason why. He’s expected you to be there for him and selfishly taken from you countless times. 

He just really fucking misses you.

Knowing you won’t bother to answer his texts or calls, his last option is to go to you. The only hope he has that you won’t slam the door in his face is knowing you have a hard time saying no to him. He’s taken advantage of that in the past, and he’s going to do it one more time.

Knuckles gently rap against the wooden surface of your door. A shaking fist is lowered to his side, clenching and unclenching as he impatiently waits for you to answer.

The sound of the door harshly opening brings his eyes up to meet yours. Anger and resentment reflecting in the colored specks and he’s suddenly forgotten how to speak.

“What?” Your voice is hard, venom-like and nearly unrecognizable.

He’s seen you pissed off before. Like the time you lost a promotion to an ungrateful prick at work. Or when you got into a fender bender right after buying your new car.

And he was there for you. Consoled you, as a friend, and reassured you everything would be okay. But this time is different. This time you’re pissed at him and he isn’t so sure everything is going to be okay.

“What do you want, Bucky?”

His blue eyes make quick to scan your features. Annoyance wrinkles your brow, remorse has your lips scowling, and a conflicted sadness resonants across every corner of your face. Almost in relief he’s come to you, but also wishing he would’ve just stayed away. And maybe he should have.

How did he let it get this bad? How could he hurt you this bad?

“I…I…” The words stick to the inside of his mouth, mind blanking on anything that’s worthy of being said.

“You what?”

Defensively crossing your arms over your chest, he knows you’re half a second away from shutting him out for good.

“I just want to talk,” he quickly rushes out, desperation evident in his tone and pleading eyes.

There’s a moment of silence. Then you turn on the ball of your foot, leaving him to follow you inside.

“Make it quick,” you say. “I have a date in an hour.” You add the last part nonchalantly over your shoulder as he closes the door, and the air in his lungs catches in his throat.

Following you into the modest living room of your place, you remain standing and don’t bother offering him to take a seat. This really will be quick, he thinks.

Silently, you fix him with an expectant look, waiting for him to start. Bucky is slightly thrown off at your refusal to speak first, but then again, he did show up here unannounced.

“Uh, I just…uh, I miss you.” His tone is soft, unsure.

But you scoff and roll your eyes, and his heart is hammering away in his chest as he helplessly watches you slip through his fingers.

“I do,” he affirms with a bit more confidence. “And I needed to see you.”

“Why?”

He blinks at your unexpected questioning.

“Why what?”

“Why are you really here?” You ask again, tone unwavering.

Bucky’s mouth opens to respond, and again, his mind falters on what to say that won’t dig this grave any deeper. But you cut him off before he’s even able to form a coherent sentence.

“Is it because you’re afraid you won’t get to have your cake and eat to it, too, anymore?”

“Wha—no!” Indignation creases his brow, voice the loudest it’s been since arriving here because he’s just so frustrated with himself for letting it get to this point. “Y/n, no, that’s not it at all.”

“Then why, Bucky?” Now your voice is beginning to waver. A pleading desperation cracking through the syllables. “Why show up here after I’ve made it very clear that I’m done with this,” a gesture of your hand to the space between the two of you, “and I’m trying to move on with someone else. I can’t do this anymore.”

He sees it happening—farther and farther away you’re falling from him, and he can’t stop the words quick enough before they tumble out of his mouth.

“Do you love him?”

“What?” You seethe.

“I said, do you love him?” 

“How dare you.”

“I need to know, Y/n.”

“Seriously? Fuck you, Bucky!” You exclaim, dropping your arms and letting your hands slap loudly against your thighs. “I can’t fucking believe you! How dare you show up here and then ask me—“

But the rest of that sentence dies on your tongue when Bucky speaks again.

“Because I love you.”

You freeze, snapping your mouth shut as you stare directly at him. 

“What did you just say?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky gives himself a second to calm his nerves before repeating the confession.

“I love you.”

The clenching of your jaw is obvious, the irritation evident as it darkens your features. 

“Fuck. You.”

Eyes wide in shock, Bucky opens his mouth to protest, but you’re quicker.

“You see me with another guy, trying to move on and be happy, but you can’t let me have that, can you? I can never get what I want with you, so when you think you’ve lost your fuck buddy you show up here and say that to me? Hoping it’s what I want to hear that will bring me back to you? Really? Fuck. You.”

He winces at your words. How could he be so stupid? 

His confession wasn’t meant to anger you or push you away. It wasn’t some selfish card he decided to pull when he realized you weren’t coming back to him. 

No. 

It was a last ditch effort from a desperate man who was scared shitless of losing the woman he loves. Forever.

“Do you even know what you did?”

Your voice brings his attention back to you. The exasperation that clouded your features has melted into a pained look of sorrow.

Wordlessly, Bucky shakes his head, body tensing as it prepares for the inevitable shame your answer will bring.

“The last time we were…together,” you begin, eyes falling to the floor, and he can see the reflection of tears on your soft cheeks. “You said her name.”

It’s all you need to say, and his face is crumbling. 

Fuck.

“I…It…” He should just give up now. There’s nothing he can even say to make up for calling you another woman’s name. Another woman he doesn’t even fucking love.  

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he sighs, already accepting defeat. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t... I don’t know what else to say. I...I was drunk and I just... I’m...”

I’m a fucking idiot.

Words are lost, mind racing because he knows this is it. He’s lost you over a stupid drunken mistake that should’ve never happened.

The stillness of the room has him on edge. Tension building, he’s turning to leave, but then it’s broken by your next words.

“Did you mean it?”

Breathlessly looking to you, his heartbeat picks up at the lifeline you’ve just thrown him. Even though he doesn’t deserve it.

“Yes.” He’s nodding earnestly and takes a step towards you. “So much. I love you so fucking much, Y/n, it hurts.” When he notices you haven’t recoiled at his approaching figure, he takes another step. “And I’m such an asshole and a piece of shit after everything I’ve done. I don’t deserve you, I know that, but I just want to make it up to you.” Another step, then another, and he’s about a foot away. “If you’ll give me the chance, I’ll make everything up to. I love you.”

Now that he’s this close, he can see just how badly his words and actions have affected you. The brightness in your eyes is gone. Replaced with a dull emptiness shadowing the heavy bags under your eyes. From lack of sleep and crying, he’s sure.

Clenching his fists at his sides, he stops himself from smoothing out the wrinkle in your brow, and presses his mouth together to resist kissing away the scowl on your lips.

“Please, Y/n, I—“

He doesn’t get to finish his last plea because your lips are crashing onto his, and he wastes no time. Pulling you into his body, his hold is tight, afraid you’ll change your mind and push him away again. But you don’t, and he sighs in relief when your arms wrap around his neck.

Lips moving in desperation together, Bucky can’t get enough. It’s like the first sip of water after a long hot summer’s day, and he has been parched for too long. His tongue slips out to deepen the kiss, but then you suddenly pull away and all hope he just found is lost all over again.

“Wait,” you exhale, “Are you still—“

“No,” Bucky intently confirms.

“Really? When?”

“Sam’s birthday.”

“Oh.”

Your moving in for another kiss, but then your question reminds Bucky, and now it’s his turn to pull away.

“Wait, do you have—“

“No.”

“No? When did yo—?”

“Sam’s birthday.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the smile on his face when he brings you back into his embrace. 

Bodies move in sync to your bedroom, a breadcrumb trail of clothes left along the way. Falling together onto the bed, contact is never broken as a fit of giggles comes over the two of you. Playful nips turning to fervent kisses. Sensual touches lighting a fire over heated skin. Wanton moans reverberating against the walls that have seen you both like this countless times before.

But this time is different.

This time there are no outliers—it’s just you and him. And he wants you to know it.

“I’m yours,” Bucky breathes against the shell of your ear. “Always been yours.” 

There’s a faint taste of salt on his lips and he realizes you’re crying. He kisses away the pain and heartache, until his lips find yours again. He conveys a silent promise through a deep, passionate kiss.

He’s yours. 

He’s always been yours, and will continue to be yours for as long as you’ll have him.

And when he slides into you, arms tight around your waist and face buried in the crook of your neck, a relieved moan falls from his lips. 

He’s finally home again.

[yandere-society]

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it. 

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango​ 

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know! 

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon. 

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me? 

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire. 

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing. 

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together. 

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine. 

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk. 

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.” 

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.  

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water. 

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold. 

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight. 

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person. 

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear. 

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces. 

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field. 

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain. 

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me. 

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor. 

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist. 

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?” 

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-” 

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come. 

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

-

I’m chasing something odd in my dream. 

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing. 

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast. 

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains. 

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face. 

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am. 

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men. 

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail. 

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy. 

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

-

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two. 

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle. 

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit. 

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me. 

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family. 

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.  

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room. 

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?” 

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother. 

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.” 

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again. 

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites. 

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room. 

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.” 

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows. 

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely. 

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch. 

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant. 

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” 

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend. 

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.  

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me. 

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” 

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.” 

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more. 

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me. 

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week. 

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount. 

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly. 

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.” 

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me. 

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.” 

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand. 

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.  

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features. 

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire. 

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone. 

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.” 

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?” 

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.” 

-

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.  

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer. 

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.” 

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. 

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well. 

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave. 

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him. 

-

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice. 

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing. 

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take. 

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I... 

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages. 

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl. 

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.  

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands. 

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.  

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me. 

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened. 

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain. 

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

-

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America. 

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!” 

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?” 

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over.  “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL 

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole 

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers, 

                                      The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.” 

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?” 

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace. 

-

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes. 

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!” 

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.” 

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns. 

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so. 

-

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse. 

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway. 

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this. 

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning. 

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp. 

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper. 

-

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry. 

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief. 

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence. 

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in. 

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room. 

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room. 

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls. 

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well. 

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts. 

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares. 

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I  turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn. 

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board. 

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us. 

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room. 

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me. 

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy,  dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” 

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase. 

Mr. Jeon Jungkook. 

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.” 

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at. 

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.” 

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me. 

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of  this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue. 

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second. 

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure. 

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues. 

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.”  My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise. 

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue. 

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.”  Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.” 

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously. 

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head. 

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?” 

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.” 

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.  

“You have my word.” 

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find. 

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.  

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?   

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not. 

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me. 

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction. 

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes.  The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.       

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more. 

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man. 

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago. 

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.                          

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain. 

“I live to serve.” 

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses. 

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white. 

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up. 

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him. 

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed. 

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.” 

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on. 

 “The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us. 

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need. 

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing. 

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck. 

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his. 

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me. 

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show. 

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way. 

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought. 

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation. 

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets. 

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.” 

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt. 

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.” 

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! 

[aotomegane]

TianShan science fiction/feral superhuman being au:

PART 2

*******************************************************

Ever since that time Momo sent lunch to him, He Tian couldn’t wait to see Momo again. He never liked other people especially those who love to take advantage of him. He could feel their fear every single time but they acted like they were not and it pissed He Tian off. Who did they think they were? Did they think they were superior than him? Fuck off!

But it’s different with Momo. When he first saw the redhead, he couldn’t sense any fear from him. Not even a slight trace. He stared at the shorter guy but he didn’t even flinched. ‘That’s weird,’ He Tian thought. Since Momo didn’t try to provoke him or anything, He Tian didn’t even bother to growl at him. Not like when he’s with the other guys who came in. They all tried so hard to looked superior and when He Tian let out a short growl, they started to sweat. Pfft. Superior my ass!

‘Is he not coming to do the checkup?’

Usually, a couple hours after his lunch time, they would send people in to take his blood sample. He Tian hated it because they would let out this weird gas into the room and he would start to fell unconscious. But they probably would send someone else in to do the checkup. Then, the door opened wide. Momo locked eyes with He Tian.

‘Wait, aren’t they supposed to let out that weird gas first?’

As Momo came closer to him, He Tian tried to sense his fear. Nothing. None. And that actually helped to calm He Tian too.

“I’m gonna take your blood sample, okay?” Momo said. The redhead did his job pretty smoothly. He Tian had stared at Momo throughout the whole process. He’d realized the frown, the slight blush on his cheeks and how pretty his lips were.

Ba-dump!

He Tian blinked. ‘What was that?’

Ba-dump!

Ah! It’s his heart. It was…….racing. But why?

“I bring these to clean your wounds. Don’t move around to much or it will hurt you even more,” Momo said again. He took out the necessities he needed to clean the wound on He Tian’s wrists and leg. The moment their skins touched, ba-dump!

‘Fuck!’ He Tian cursed. What’s wrong with his heart? The beat’s getting faster. Hell, it’s getting louder too! He Tian could only pray that Momo didn’t hear a single thing. He had stood still and let Momo cleaned his wounds. He did flinched once when Momo put the antiseptic. It burned his skin. “Sorry…” Momo said again. After about 20 minutes, Momo finished cleaning all the wounds. It took him a while since he had to work around those nasty chains.

When Momo looked at He Tian, he was shocked to see how red He Tian’s face was. “Why is your face so red? Do you have a fever?” Momo panicked. He instinctively put his hands on He Tian’s forehead to check his temperature. Normal. “It didn’t seemed like you have a fever. But I’ll bring something cold for you later just in case,” with that, Momo packed his things and leave. And he swore, He Tian’s face turned even more red.

Momo left the room and thanked the guard before returning to his lab to send in the blood sample.

“Yes, he came out uninjured,” the guard replied to the voice from the walkie talkie.

“No, I didn’t turn on the gas. But it seemed that the specimen didn’t attack him.”

‘………….’

“Alright, noted.”

[brownandblackpearls]

📜 🖋 𝒞ourting with 𝒟r. 𝒟evorak (Julian x BlackReader) Pt.3

PART 3 SUMMARY:

You are a reputable, young beauty of means in Vesuvia, enjoying the winter courting season. An odd letter from an odd doctor finds its way to your door. You are on the second segment of your first date, attending a play in Vesuvia.

─── Julian x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── regency/historical/fantasy, courtship rituals, wealthy! MC, love letters, drama, handsome redheads

☾ previous. next. 

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

The obsidian carriage was a comfortable reprieve from the glare of the chilled sun rays. Drifts of snow were all too happy to try and reflect the light into your eyes, but the dark, shrouded curtains of the doctor’s vehicle saved you from the visual spotlights. 

Swept in by your courter, you sit and watch Julian seat himself before his man yips the horses and pulls you all off, down the snowswept cobblestones.

You watch Julian watching you, thinking quietly to yourself about the events that have happened thus far, and letting the moment of silence cover you both. Sometimes, silence was just as good as words. What kind of man was Julian, in silence?

Shy, it seemed. He tries to pretend to glance out the window before being reeled back into your gaze, and finally, staying there. Shoulders stiff, you could almost feel the thoughts running through his mind.

You graced him a gentle smile, an offering.

Julian is more than eager to return it, nervousness be damned.

You were beginning to understand a little better why you felt so fond of him so fast, you realized. He was so…eager. Open. Even with all the little charades of character he pulled from time to time, they were more entertaining than anything. It did not come off as malevolent or manipulative. It was more experimental than anything. As anxious as your presence seemed to make him, Julian seemed comfortable enough in himself to try different things, different ways of being.

It didn’t hurt that he was very easy to read, and he read a tale of a soft heart on his sleeve.

You were very good at keeping yours under your sleeves, and something told you that Julian—as well as many others—liked the challenge enough to rise to it.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” Julian says rather than asks, hope tingeing his tone.

“I am,” you confirm easily, showing your cards.

Pleased, his chest almost seemed to puff up in pride. You realize that Julian wants this courtship to be not just enjoyable, but memorable. Memorable enough for you to call upon him once more, memorable enough for you to savor spending time with him, to become hooked to it, and in turn, to him.

“What play shall we be seeing...?” You wonder aloud, tiring of your mental courting maps.

“It is a new showing,” Julian answers brightly, “’To Rake a Shrew’. One of my old friends behind-the-scenes, he explained some of the outline. It sounds delightfully dramatic.”

Your eyes widen. 

You’ve always enjoyed a good, romantic drama.

“Do tell.”

Julian leans forward, looking every bit the cat that caught the canary and intended on sharing its prize. His large frame and sweeping height becomes much more apparent in the tiny space as he forgets himself and his nerves, confidence gleaming through his silver gaze as he speaks excitedly on the play. 

He’s such a large man…yet graceful when he desires it…like reedgrass curtsying in the wind on a breezy, summer’s day. The whole of him is enough to cover you entirely. He’s visibly strong, you realize as your eyes rake over him. Yet he moves with such gentleness, especially when it concerns you. A helping hand, an assisting palm to elbow, a touch’s kiss above the lower back. You can feel the ability course through him, yet he remains composed and contained, as a proper doctor would.

Under the doctor however, there is yet a man.

With him this near, your senses flare.

His cologne is somewhat sharp, if not heady. All of him sticks out, dark, dashing, and enough to do whatever he’d like with you…to please…to pursue...to protect…

You suppress a shiver, taking in the sight of him. You’re not new at this particular game of attraction, but you’re still made of flesh and blood, and behave so. You swallow slightly, ignoring the way your heart picks up speed.

“…?” You suddenly realize Julian has called your name, and you’ve yet to answer.

“Forgive me,” you apologize. “I was caught in a thought! Please, tell me once more. I shall not wander again.”

Julian tilts his head curiously before smiling. 

“It’s quite alright. I can be a bore, I’ve been told! What thought draws you away from me?”

‘You, actually.’

“Nothing of imminent concern, I assure you. I’d much rather hear you tell me of your friend and this play.”

Julian pauses before nodding, dropping the matter easily. 

“Well, ‘To Rake a Shrew’ is about a Casanova descending upon a bustling town to find more conquests in love. He is a slave to beauty, but unfortunately for him, the most sought-after beauty in the town is a shrew unlike any other. She will bend to no one, especially not clownish, predictable seducers such as him. He changes his tactics to try and best her at his own game, however she wins in the end and dupes him while entertaining the love of another. And so...he attempts to seduce them both! The outcome of that mess is yet to be determined.”

You clap, terribly excited now. You love interesting plots and twisted triangles of romance, tripe and as common as they may be.

“Ooh, how devilish!”

“Indeed,” Julian agrees. “Do you think he’ll succeed in the end?”

“Well,” you suppose, “I’d have to see this Casanova. I want to know if his wooing is actually something of interest, or if he is simply full of his own air. Seducing two lovers at once? The gall! The work!”

Julian chuckles.

“Some could manage, I’d assume.”

“Oh?” You wonder. “Like who? You know people who could draw even those already entangled, in? That’s quite a feat.” 

Surely he didn’t mean himself...? Julian seemed the shy sort, but was it all really an act? Could he be a playboy? He was certainly handsome enough to pull it off...perhaps you'd gotten ahead of yourself thinking that he was easy to read? It hadn't even been a day.

Julian pins a heavy gaze on you before flicking his eyes down to his hands casually, adjusting the hem of his glove. The leather creaks in a wonderful, quiet way over his regal fingers.

“I think perhaps, I know a few who could make that Casanova look like child’s play.”

‘Oh…’

“A few, you say?”

“Perhaps less than that, even.”

“...One?”

“Would it please you to hear so?” Julian teases lightly, a low heat simmering underneath it all.

“Only if it pleases you, to please me,” you test, returning the flame. “So it is one.”

“Perhaps.”

“Hm…an allure like no other is on the loose in our city…Dr. Devorak, should Vesuvia be afraid?” You jest, playing along with him.

Julian’s fingers halt at the sound of his title in your mouth. He levels another look at you, a smirk drawing up his face.

“Vesuvia will last. I, on the other hand…”

The carriage door sounds out a rapping of knuckles. Neither of you look away from one another. The challenge you both find there is too sweet.

“Sir Devorak, Lady _______, we have arrived at the Theater!”

You finally decide to turn away from your suitor then, the heat of Julian’s interest surprising you a little into your own nerves. 

You like what you see there, you had simply…not expected to see it so soon in such a...heated manner...? Where did his nerves go?

‘So much for shy!’

The carriage door opens and Julian steps out first before clearing the snow with one big sweep of his boot, and lifts out a gloved hand to assist you. You gently take it, allowing him to ease you down onto the stones of the street. Though the sun is high in the sky now, the chill of winter has crept further into the air. 

You do your best to suppress a shiver, but the concerned look on Julian’s face tells you that you’ve been caught.

“Allow me?” He asks, offering his arm for you.

“Naturally,” you consent, taking his arm in a deeper hold and stepping close to leech the warmth from him. Julian, though blushing now, seems all too pleased to have you nearer than propriety allowed, excluding chilly winter walks of course. No suitor would let the one they were courting be left out to the elements, unguarded! That was a quick recipe to losing out.

Julian leads you both away from the carriage, past the doorman, the playbill boys, the ushers, and down to the head seater.

“Tickets?” The staff member crows.

���We’ve our own box in the center section,” Julian says, his voice clear and assured. 

You quietly watch as he easily discusses your seating with the somewhat confused staff member before watching as the worker realizes his grave error and bows, showing you both your way to your accommodations. 

“Right here sir, madam! Watch your step! Ring the bell if you need anything—!“

A sudden noise makes all of you turn to the entrance to the private box, curtains now swishing aside as an angry, bustling man launches towards the staff member.

“This is my box!” The man bellows, puff sleeves flying. “I am gravely insulted. How do they train you louts these days? Even in Vesuvia’s worse I’ve never seen such a display of disrespect. I’ll be seeing your manager about this, most certainly.”

The man advances but Julian moves before anyone else really can, cutting the stranger off at the throat of the box’s entrance and herding him back with his own immense volume and size.

“Surely we can settle this like gentlemen,” Julian says in a soothing way, with a tone that is anything but.

“I beg your pardon? The only way this will ‘settle’ is if you all escort yourselves out of my box—“

The man tries to sidestep Julian, but finds himself blocked with every motion he makes. Julian is large, imposing, and will not let him pass.

Julian leans in then, his voice murmuring so low and so subdued that you can make no sense of it outside of the rumbling vibrations that do reach you. The staff member looks just as confused and out of the loop as you feel, but the man before Julian seems to understand with crystal clarity as trepidation colors his face. It soon melds into fear, to a quick, prideful facade.

The stranger takes a step back, scoffing loudly before exiting the box in a flurry of curtains and stomping boots.

Julian turns back to you both, a strained, yet somewhat humored look on his face.

“Well! That’s taken care of. Dizzy man, that one. Must’ve lost his way.”

“Ah,” you note, unsure of how to respond.

You were...admittedly nervous when that hostile, aggressive stranger entered the box so suddenly. It felt as if a fight had been imminent with a temper like that. And yet…

…Julian effectively diffused the situation. You’re fairly sure he used his own version of hostility, but he was conscious and chose to hide that side of him from your sight. You’re not sure why, aside from manners. A show of protectiveness does very little to wane your ever increasing interest in him.

Quite the opposite.

Maybe the Doctor is not as harmless or bumbling as he portrays himself to be...?

“Are you alright?” Julian asks you. “Is this box fine, or would you prefer another? That man will not be returning, but if you’re not comfortable, I will ensure that—“

“This is fine,” you insist gently. “As long as you’re here, I have no need to worry.”

When the initial surprise in your full trust finally fades from his eyes, Julian gives you the warmest of smiles.

“I—well, I—yes!”

The usher sneaks out as you and Julian lock gazes. The lights begin to dim in the theater. The crowd rumbles below in the pit, up in the stands, and from the teetering little boxes on all ends. 

The show is about to begin.

“This way,” Julian says, offering his hand.

Julian helps guide you to your seat before securing the privacy of your box and seating himself beside you. For a moment, he is a flurry of cape and leather and boot before settling in to the cushy theater couch. His long legs jut out and he folds them, eyes on the stage, excitement in them. 

You can’t help but follow suit, your eyes trailing the orchestra down below as they prepare to play alongside the show and its actors. 

Suddenly, you feel eyes on you.

You take it in stride, keeping your gaze focused, but you know that Julian is peering at you. The dimmed lights have certainly sparked a more romantic mood than even the lit, dazzling, gilded chandeliers of the theater could evoke. There, in the cover of shadow and stage light, you feel yourself becoming the center of his particular show.

“You could have a portrait commissioned,” you joke lightly. “That would last you far longer, Doctor.”

A smooth chuckle resounds from your side before the words.

“If you’d allow it, I’d be honored.”

Now, it is your turn to look at him.

“You jest, sir.”

“I do not.”

You feel a smile break onto your face, before you turn once again towards the stage, biting your lip in amusement. The heavy, red stage curtains part before you can speak.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Vesuvia! Welcome to the grand debut of To Rake a Shrew…!”

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

AN: Do not copy, repost, translate, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. next. 

☾ check my blog for more imagines.

[writeblrcafe]

Digital interview with @randonauticrap

Madame L. sits down at a table in Writeblr Café and orders a chai latte. We start talking about her writing. She writes poetry, fan fiction, short stories and a book! Her writing includes many genres, including from fantasy, romance, thriller, crime, mystery, paranormal and realitic fiction.

What got you into writing?

When I was in 6th grade, one of my teachers created an assignment where we would have to choose a poem to memorize. She had a box full of poetry books and allowed us to sift through them. I chose a book of poems by Edgar A. Poe, and was immediately captivated by his use of metaphor and imagery. His words transported me directly into the heart of his emotions, and I couldn't tear myself away. I learned and memorized all 3 1/2 pages of The Raven for the assignment, and I realized in the process of doing so that writing was calling to me in a form it never had before. I answered the call and I have been writing ever since, never forgetting the author who started it all. I try to pay little tributes to him throughout a lot of my horror/thriller pieces.

What inspires you to write?

The simplest answer is the truest in this case: my emotions. I can't properly put words to paper (or screen, in most instances these days) without some kind of emotional investment in what I am penning. What I am feeling at the time decides which genre I take hold of, and it often decides which character I decide to focus more deeply on for the time being. It also can help decide what part of a story I write; for example, if I am feeling down and I know that my character is going to feel the same way at some point in the story, I use that state of being to encompass that character's pain in a more raw and evocative way. Even if I haven't reached that part of the story yet in my continuity writing, I may skip ahead to write that scene and then put it to the side until I am ready to insert it into the full context of the plot.

Which are recurring themes in your writing?

Loneliness is a big one, as well as a desire to be understood. I feel these emotions very strongly in my life, so they often appear in my characters in one way or another. Strength of self is another very important characteristic that tends to show up in my stories, as well as the not-so-graceful intensity that comes with such a strong energy.

How would you describe your writing style?

I feel as though my writing style leans towards narrative pretty often. I go into detail about the descriptors of a person and place and situation more than anything else. You'll usually find little dialogue, but a lot of metaphor and chroniclization.

Have you already published your writing?

Sadly, I have not. However, I am currently working on a novella that I hope to publish upon completion!

Tell us more interesting stuff about you!

Interesting stuff? Wow, you're really making me think now. The most basic knowledge about me is my ridiculously intense love of Halloween, fall, and anything cosy. I am a bona fide coffee addict (there is a crazy story behind this well-earned title, but I believe it's a bit too long to tell here), I am single (against my will), and I have two cats. I am pretty much the little eccentric cat lady down the street that makes hot chocolate for everyone when it's cold out. I am more sarcastic than is good for me -- if you had not already discerned that much from... Well, everything above, and I am a redhead, which I feel like pretty much just explains my whole personality in a better way than I could with descriptors. Thank you for creating this survey and opening it up to all writers! I genuinely enjoyed going through these questions and talking about what I feel makes me a writer, and I'm sure others will feel the same!

Get interviewed by Writeblr Café!

Any writer can participate. Just fill in this form. Maybe we will host interviews in an audio format if you are more interested in listening to an interview than reading it.

[writeradamanteve]

I hope I'm not bugging you when I ask (and feel free to ignore this): if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Oh, I’m not sure if I’ve watched enough of season 5 leaks to answer this intelligently, but I still love this ask, so thank you, my dear. This is a gift!

So first of all, whatever nonsense the writers did to make Betty do what she did with our (un)beloved Redheaded Casanova, will mostly only impact Varchie in a very negative way.

I’m not saying this won’t impact Bughead. Betty, to my mind, would have told Jughead already, and while Jughead will get hurt, it won’t be enough for him to breakup with Betty then and there. Whatever the aftermath of that will be for Bughead, they would hve resolved it by promnight. Veronica finds out at promnight via Archie, and she will get mad at Betty (rightfully so) and leave Archie’s ass.

Bughead will go on to being their loving selves, but that angsty love scene will definitely be their Heading Off to College Sex. They don’t break up then and there, but as they go their separate ways, Jughead kind of self-sabotages and they drift apart and break up while in college. Jughead loathes himself and Betty dedicates herself to her studies 110%.

Here’s where I really deviate from what we’ve been hearing. 3 of the core 4 are NOT totally unhappy about their lives outside of Riverdale. Veronica is a wild success because that’s the way she is. She’s dating a douche but that has nothing to do with her success. Betty is in the FBI, but she struggles with beaucracy. Jughead has published a book or two, made it to top 10 in the NYT bestsellers list in his category (crime fiction). They come back because Archie, who is indeed a fireman—probably the only narrative I agree with here—calls them all to ask for their help: He’s been accused of a murder and all evidence points to him, so much so that even Jughead wonders if he didn’t do it.

Veronica has half a mind to just let him rot, but Betty, whom Veronica had made-up with through the years because she realized she never wants a man to get between her and her girl, convinces Ronnie to help their Idiot friend because otherwise he will truly get the chair and nobody deserves that. Veronica said she’d do it for a lark.

Jughead, going through a bit of a writers block and a rough patch with his girlfriend, succumbs to his tendency to flee stressful circumstances and find his anchor, goes back to Riverdale with the following excuses, in order of importance (according to him):

Help Archie

Find writing inspiration in this new caper

Give him and his GF space to figure things out

Connect with “old friends”

As we all know #4 is his #1 and that Veronica was never really his friend.

Betty is definitely in the FBI and she is seeing someone who is in the FBI, too. He’s kind of like Captain America and the nuclear bomb of boyfriends, but we know she always liked the soft boi and one look at Jughead and she’s

By the third episode, Jughead and his GF had broken up and him and Betty are investigating. Betty’s BF is beginning to feel like the third wheel. Veronica has found a ton of new business opportunities and Hello Again Reggie.

Toni owns and runs the Whyte Wyrm, is leading the Serpents, and has a sexual relationship with Cheryl, but she’s since learned that NOT being Cheryl’s GF means she can actually run her own life, so Cheryl is there when they’re frisky but Toni’s her own boss.

Cheryl runs the holdings of the Blossoms and is now running for Mayor. Lots of tension between her and Toni because of this, but we all know Cheryl craves power. Her political ambitions are to go higher —> Governor, eventually. But Mayor, first.

At some point, Captain America realizes Betty is still in love with Jughead and breaks up with her. And of course we’ll get more

And

And

Which will definitely become this

And Veronica, in all her fabulousness will realize that Archie truly, verily sucks and that her douche boyfriend also sucks. She likes Reggie, but just for fun.

After they all help solve the crime and prove that Archie didn’t kill that person (probably his ex?), Toni and Cheryl still have their sexual relationship but have come to collaborate with regard to their respective ambitions, bughead will marry, and Veronica is happily single. Like truly happily.

How do we close the season? We can close it with Archie putting something away that makes us wonder, “Holy shit, did he actually kill that person after all?”

Because Archie is Riverdale and Riverdale is the Murder Capital of the world.

[shelf-care]

Winter Nights

Wolverine x OC

Lipstick mark series Pt.2

| Part 1| 

So its snowing in south Texas! that never happens. My parents are panicking and I’m sitting here writing fan fiction to calm myself. What could go wrong? 

So Victor Creed shows up in this because I’m a pantser and I come up with ideas as I go and see if it works for the plot, (For this miniseries I hope it does.) I was also watching Kate and Leopold last night (It’s become a valentines tradition for me over the last few years.) And Liev was in it. So theres that. 

Rated PG-13

Mentions of sex, medical examination, a former abusive relationship, obsession with an individual, slight violence, touch starved wolverine. 

“Your mission Miss hope?” The woman in the white lab coat asked while holding a clipboard ad clicking a pen multiple times, it had to be some sort of nervous tick. Maddie tipped her head back, swallowing her saliva, she was clad in a sterile white medical gown, her red hair sprawled out on the also white pillow as another individual examined her. “My mission was to come into contact with the Man known as wolverine, or James Logan Howlett.” She took a breath, the cold instruments the nurse had been using caught her rather off guard. “And you succeeded in not only finding him, but you managed to get a sample of his DNA?” The woman jotted some notes on the clipboard now, keeping her eyes locked on Maddie. The redhead looked away, staring at the ceiling stark white and formless like everything else in the room. “I did.” The doctor nodded her head. “We’ll be taking those samples back to the lab to confirm that its him. Until they are conclusive, you are free to go.” The young woman nodded watched as swabs left the room, she rather did not want to know what they wanted to do with him.

_

Blankly staring at the roof above her, Maddie couldn’t keep that night from playing over and over again. He was indeed her target, but, something was stirring in her, affection most likely. It would die within a couple weeks like it did with the men following shortly after. She knew he would be harder to kill. But he’d fall like the rest. Eventually. She closed her eyes, then she felt her phone buzz next to her. She reached for it, a voice message was visible. Holding the device to her ear, she heard his voice. A voice that in all honesty she enjoyed. “Look, I’m not that great at stuff like this. But I got your note, the other one, the one with the lipstick,” He paused, thinking about what he’d say next. “I thought we got on pretty well the other night. Lemme know when you make it back to the bar.” The message was short, and pretty sweet. He did care, at least a tad. Maddie slid her lips in a grin, she recorded a new message for him. “I’d love to meet again, this Friday at the bar?”

_

She waited at the bar again, it was cold, snow was on its way. This time the meeting was for more pleasure than anything else since her job was done, but it wasn’t a bad things to keep up with a target. The door swung open among the mostly empty bar. The few patrons turned their heads at the sudden commotion. In walked a man who was tall, very tall. Blond hair cascading down his shoulders, while some of it was put in a half ponytail. A long trench coat and fur, was joined by it, making him look that more intimidating. He made his way to the bar and sat down, eyeing Maddie like she was his new meal. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He said keeping his sight on the bar ahead of him while he ordered himself a large glass of whatever was the strongest drink at the bar. Maddie rolled her eyes. “You here to babysit me creed?” She asked drawing invisible circles in the counter. “Here more on pleasure Miss Hope.” He looked her up and down again and licked his lips visibly so she’d see it for sure. He knew this made her one of two things. Hot and bothered, or pissed off. it pissed her off this time around, and Creed preferred it that way.  “I thought we were past this.” She turned fully to him now. “You might be.” He drank down half the mixture of bourbon, whisky and fireball and faced her, chest puffed in pride and confidence, a pointed and toothy grin showed itself. “But I sure as hell wasn’t girly.” He scoffed as his fist hit the bar making the redhead jump as he got her attention and everyone else’s in the bar as a matter of fact. “We were just getting good when you left.” A fire lit in her heart, anger and passion apparent in her face she took a moment to compose herself. “Victor, they removed you from my squad and as my partner because of your behavior towards me. That hit was the last straw and I won’t be coming back and I’m sure you know that.” Her tone was low and threatening, looking at him, she grasped the glass and slammed down the rest of the liquid before putting down a few dollars as a tip. Creed thought it was adorable when she was angry, and decided to take it as far as he could.

As she zipped up her jacket and made her way out, the large man grabbed her by the arm. “We’re done when I say we are,” He pulled her close to him, his breath brushing warm against her throat as his claw ran down her cheek. “And I’m not done talking to you.” His yellow eyes bored into hers, she felt her heartbeat quicken, she despised and loved this feeling, that’s what got her into this mess the first time. “I told you I was finished. You’ll get your chance with me another day.” She opened her hand to show her palm to him, illuminating a golden hue of color at the center and curving our like a flame, Creeds eyes didn’t change a bit, he seemed like he welcomed the challenge. “Sweetheart, if only you knew how much I craved that part of you.” He gave a guttural low laugh, daring her, as he smirked again, spurring her on. Seeing if she’d really follow through on her threat, which most of them were never hollow. “On any other occasion Creed, I’d let you have it.” She placed her hand on his fist that was still clenched around her arm. “But I’m not in the mood for playing nice.” His hand went visceral, veins becoming more visible as one could see the vitality of the large mutant being taken on by someone a third of his size. “Let me go.” He threatened as he began to feel his muscles failing him in his left arm. “You first.” She smiled, the grin widening as he raised his claws at her. but was too weak to do much else. She laughed and leaned into his ear whispering in a sensual voice, her chest touching his to pour more salt onto the wound. “I thought you craved this part of me.” He could feel himself become more drained the longer she stayed, he realized she wasn’t messing around this time, his grip loosened and she walked free, not another word was heard from Creed, and it would be like that till the next time those twos’ paths crossed. Creed was bent over the bar. He reached for his drink and it shook in his hold, and drank the rest fervently like he needed air, he watched as his hand shook like an elderly man and his hand similar to one too. “Babe’s been getting stronger.” He was captivated by the way her powers worked, he always had been.

 She was Outside, the wind howled and whipped the snow up, crating a curtain of nothing but white mist making visibility a little less than optimal. She pulled out her phone and started to text.

“Hey, the bar is full. Did you want to meet anywhere else for drinks?” She messaged him. Yes, it was a lie, but she didn’t want to be around Creed, for reasons that was obvious. She waited a few minutes till she saw the three dots pop up. “You wanna come to the trailer?” He asked bluntly. She shrugged. “Pick me up?” She shot back quickly. “Sure thing.” Was all he said back.

_

Maddie threw her head back against the mini sofa that was in the one room airstream. The warmth enveloping her as she sighed after her first sip of beer. The snow on her jacket seeping into the fabric further, making a chill run down her spine. “Thank you.” She said raising her head to look at him, happy to be warm. “Don’t mention it.” He said mirroring her actions. “I can’t believe you wanted to meet again.” She mentioned looking at him again, he was different from last time, but not. “I can’t either if I’m honest.” He sat on his bed across from her. There was a silence that fell between the two, but it was comfortable. “Sorry the bar didn’t work out.” Leaning forward trying to skirt the conversation along. “I’d rather be doing this.” He tilted his head referring to his drink. That made Maddie laugh through her nose a bit. “Really? You’d rather act like an old married couple than be out?” She teased him, but he looked at her for a moment. “Been there and done that.” She nodded. “I like this though. It’s nice.” She took another sip of her drink before throwing away the bottle in an open trash bin. “I never got to ask. What is it that you do?” She placed her palm under her chin and smiled, waiting for his answer. He played with his bottle, before drinking his as well. “What you saw the other night is what I’ve been doing for the last fifteen years.” He told her nodding and thinking about his past and his way of living. “I don’t remember much of what I did before.” Maddie looked at him, a blank face that he couldn’t make out, but made him curious. “You never told me what you did. How did someone like you wind up in this dump of a town?” He joked slightly but he wasn’t wrong, it was a little piece of nowhere. “I’m in military secret forces. I was stationed here, and have been here for the last three years.” She saw him tense at the subject. “You okay?” Her brows cocked at him becoming a little bit tense. She didn’t think he suspect anything, and she wasn’t outright lying about what she did. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He left it at that. She stood up and paced over to him, and sat down next to him. The mattress sinking beneath her. He looked at her not quite knowing what she was doing. She reached for his hand, and looked at him before she went any further. “You don’t seem fine.” She silently asked for permission and he let her have his hand. She traced his palm slowly and gently, comfort in every movement. He was starved of this type of affection. Most people were, but him more than others she found just from the way he acted. She laced her fingers in-between the spaces where his were not, interlocking their hands. He closed his eyes her for a split second, every curve, every bump, every imperfection written on her face made him want her more as he reveled in the feeling of them being so close. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He warned her, taking his hand out of hers, though she stopped him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She was firm, but the firmness was met with a soft smile. Logans eyes studied her for a minute. No one had ever stopped him like that, not to his knowledge anyway. This time when he went to remove his hand she let him leave, but it was to place his hand under her chin and bring her closer, and there, their lips met, and he pushed her below him while she wrapped her hands around his neck and raked her hands through his hair, all while closing her eyes enjoying the warmth compared to the freezing outside.

_

While the campers light was dim, if one were close to it you could hear giggling, rocking, calling one another’s names in the dark, and a little obscene noises that you would only hear if you where right next to the airstream. Then there was the figure that stood a few feet away from the little camper, a figure that towered over most men. The same body that was blonde, and in the bar with Maddie that same night. “You made a big mistake girly,” He peered down at his still healing hand, it looked aged, like his hand was ten years older than the rest of his body. 

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer at the Burrow / r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push / Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions / Chapter 10: You Would Be Fine

Chapter 11: Spell It Out

It was the night of Percy's birthday party and you had successfully avoided Ron the entire day. It wasn't difficult to do, considering the fact that everyone was so hectic and busy running around to complete Percy's demanding orders. He was usually uptight, but the stress of his work friends and boss attending his party had him so wound up you were afraid he was going to snap in two.

Not ready to face Ron after your screaming match last night, you stuck by Hermione and Ginny's side the entire day as everyone prepared for the party. You also avoided Bill too, just in case Ron was still jealous enough to make a scene. You didn't want any more emotional outbursts for a while. You were a little worn out from those this summer.

Now you stood next to the large oak tree, you had come to call it your tree ever since you snuck out at night to sit by it, and observed the party. Wizards in capes and tunics milled about, mingling with one another while sipping the punch Mrs Weasley had made. A laugh bubbled out of you as you remembered the verbal whipping she had given Fred and George when the twins tried to spike the punch with their newest prank concoction.

"It's a nice night, isn't it?" A velvet voice asked you. Turning around, you were met with the smiling eyes of Penelope Clearwater, Percy's girlfriend. You had seen her around school before she graduated, and she was really smart. She was top of her class in Ravenclaw, and her straight black hair framed her delicate features nicely. She was really pretty and you were surprised she was with someone as irritating as Percy.

"It's wonderful," you replied, turning back to admire the decorations of the night. Your muggle Christmas lights were a huge hit, and you watched as Ministry officials stepped closer to the bulbs to inspect them further. Everyone looked in awe of them. The night was perfect summer weather. It was warm enough that people could wear dresses but not too hot that those in long capes got too overheated.

You toyed with the hem of your dress absentmindedly. Since you hadn't brought any fancy clothes with you from home, Ginny had lent you one of her dresses. Ginny hated wearing dresses, "How can I play Quidditch in a dress?" she used to complain to her mom, but Mrs Weasley still made or bought a couple of them for her. You were glad she did, because the white dress you were wearing right now was stunning. Although you were a little taller than Ginny, the dress fit like a glove. It had a delicate lace neckline with matching short sleeves and came down to right above your kneecaps. When you had walked out of Ginny's closet to show her your outfit, she had grinned and said, "Ron doesn't know what he's missing."

Sighing as your brain yet again wandered to the redheaded boy, you turned to Penelope to take your mind off of him. You chatted with her for a few minutes about her work, and she was surprisingly a lot more interesting than Percy made her out to be. She was intelligent and passionate about her work, and pretty soon you and her began talking like old friends.

"It was really nice of you to help Percy plan for this party," she said, giving you a warm smile that almost made you forget all of your current boy troubles. "He appreciates it, even if he can't find the words to tell you. I know he can be a bit uptight sometimes, but he's really a good guy. I'm so thankful for him."

When Penelope talked about Percy, her eyes lit up and her elegant smile grew.

"You must really love him, huh?" You asked her. Your heart ached because you knew what it was like to care for someone that much. At least Percy loved her back.

She nodded. "I wasn't really expecting to. At first we were kind of in competition with one another, to see who would be the best Prefect. But then feelings developed, and everything changed." She laughed to herself and said, "sometimes, love happens unexpectedly."

"That's what Mrs Weasley told me," you commented, remembering your conversation in the kitchen.

Penelope raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at you. "You get love advice often from your boyfriend's mother?" she asked jokingly.

Not even bothering to hide your blush, you replied, "He's not my boyfriend." But oh Merlin, you wished he was.

"Really?" she asked, the moonlight illuminating her perfect features. "Huh, from the way you two acted back at Hogwarts, I would have thought you'd been in love for years."

Only one of us, you thought.

After chatting with Penelope a little bit more, you both made your way back to the party when dessert was served. Ice cream, tarts, and chocolate cake greeted you when you walked up to the dessert table. Your brain was so distracted by all of the delicious food that you barely noticed Bill walking up next to you.

"Hi y/n," he said as you spooned some ice cream into a bowl. You smiled politely at him as he made a bowl for himself.

"Hello," you said, topping your dessert off with sprinkles and chocolate sauce and whipped cream. Mrs Weasley really made the best food of all time. You were going to miss her cooking when the summer was over. Thinking about the end of summer sent a pang of sadness throughout your body. Although the summer had been fun, it was winding to an end and your last year of Hogwarts would be soon. You were going to miss your friends and the Weasley family.

Bill followed you to an empty table and you both sat down, immediately digging into your ice cream. Neither of you spoke as the next few minutes were reserved for devouring the delicious food. After you had both finished, Bill looked up at you and chuckled.

"What?" you asked defensively. It seemed like he was laughing at you.

"You got a little something right there," he said, motioning towards the corner of your mouth.

Embarrassed, you swiped at your mouth, but Bill kept chuckling.

"Here, I got it," he said, reaching across the table to wipe the extra ice cream off your mouth with his napkin. He was so close you could smell that pine-needle scent on him. His eyes met yours and you tried to steady your breathing. This felt wrong, you thought. I want this to be somebody else.

"Thanks," you replied, leaning back in your chair to put some space between you.

Bill nodded, folding the napkin casually before dropping it in his lap.

"You're really over me, aren't you?" He asked. At the same time the words left his lips, your eyes caught on the sight of a lanky ginger boy stealing ice cream from Harry's bowl when his head was turned. Your stomach flipped at just the sight of Ron.

"Yeah, I am," you responded, still not looking away from the boy you loved.

You heard Bill standing before you saw him getting up from the table.

"You should tell Ron," he said.

"Tell him what?" you asked, forgetting how clever Bill was. He gave you a knowing smile before speaking again.

"If someone loved me as fiercely as you two love each other, I would sure as hell fight for it."

And just like that, Bill walked away, towards a blonde girl you recognized as Fleur Delacour from the Triwizard tournament. You had no idea why she was attending Percy Weasley's birthday party, but Bill introduced himself to her anyway.

With Bill gone, you were alone with your thoughts. Bill had said "as you two love each other," implying that Ron felt the same way. Although you were almost certain Ron didn't love you back, Bill's words gave you a new sense of hope. A fire ignited in your heart as you looked back at Ron, who was joking and goofing around with Harry. That boy, however flawed and imperfect he was, was the one you loved. You couldn't just give him up because you had one disagreement.

"I would sure as hell fight for it."

Maybe that's all you and Ron needed, just one of you to build the courage to fight for the other. It was there, standing under the stars and twinkling lights of the summer night, that you decided that person was going to be you. You weren't going to sit around, crying for a boy to want you. Instead, you stood up and made your way over to Ron. You had held your love for him in your heart for so long, it was time to finally let it free and tell him.

As you walked across the grass yard towards him, Harry and Hermione saw you approaching and left. Bless them for being such good friends. Now Ron was alone and he looked up at you from across the sea of moving bodies and lights. His eyes met yours with a smile, and your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. He was looking at you differently, you realized. Maybe it was the dress that fit you so well, maybe it was the moonlight shining on your skin, or maybe it was just years of longing and desire building up to this very moment. Because as you walked towards him, Ron thought, "There's my love."

You weren't aware of what Ron was thinking but you knew he was in a significantly different mood from the last time you spoke. By now, you were almost at Ron's table, and he stood up quickly to greet you, knocking a couple spoons off the table in his haste.

"Hi," you said shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear when you were a couple feet from him.

His eyes glanced up and down your figure and he before he could think, he blurted out, "You look beautiful."

You couldn't tell whose cheeks turned redder, yours or his. But in that moment you didn't really care, all you cared about was coming over here to tell him the truth of how you felt.

"I have something to tell you," you started. "I-"

An explosive BOOM ricocheted into the night sky, cutting off your words. Everyone looked around them in surprise, and a second later another BOOM echoed, followed by a loud CRACK as fireworks were released into the sky.

"Welcome to Fred and George's Magical Firework Extravaganza! Please enjoy the show!" you heard the twins voices magically project throughout the garden. At their words, more fireworks erupted in the sky, vibrant colors of blue and red painting the dark backdrop. They were so loud that you knew your chance to tell Ron that you loved him would have to wait until later, when it was quieter. In the meantime, you were going to enjoy the show.

Scooting next to Ron, you both leaned against the table together, your faces angled up to watch the sky. Firework after firework was released, each more intense than the last. Before you could even wonder what made their fireworks different from muggle fireworks, you received your answer.

One firework spiraled up into the air and exploded into a large green dragon. It swam through the stars before opening it's mouth to breath fire. But instead of fire coming out, orange and red sparkly figures danced out of the beast's mouth. At first you thought they were leprechauns, similar to the ones at the Quidditch World Cup show. But upon closer inspection, you started to recognize the figures.

"That's us! That's our family!" Ron said, his voice giddy with childlike excitement.

Leading the pack of orange figures made up of the firework trails and sparks was Fred and George, clad in the silly three piece suit that they had teased Percy about so relentlessly. Next came sparks in the shape of Mr and Mrs Weasley, walking hand and hand with one another. The rest of the family followed in age order; Bill, Charlie, Percy (who was wearing a large IT'S MY BIRTHDAY button), Ron, and then Ginny. After them followed Hermione, Harry, you, and Penelope. You laughed up at the firework version of yourself, beyond amazed at the magic it must have taken to make this special show.

Suddenly, you felt a pang of fear. The memory of Fred and George saying, "the fireworks are nonrefundable, we have to use them," and "we thought you would have told Ron how you felt by the time of Percy's party." Oh no, you realized. You were too late. You closed your eyes and cringed as you thought about what was about to happen next.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you saw all the firework figures doing a line dance and kicking in time with one another. Everyone in the garden was laughing, clapping, and cheering for the show.

Then, pink firework hearts exploded into the sky. Here it comes, you thought.

In a giant red heart, the figures of Penelope and Percy emerged, holding hands and walking together. Laughter filled the garden as everyone enjoyed the cheesy display. Looking over at Percy, you were expecting him to be embarrassed by Fred and George's show. Instead, he smiled wide, simply wrapping his arm around Penelope and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Next, Mr and Mrs Weasley emerged from the heart, waltzing with one another through the sky. People cheered and awed at their dance. You looked over at the real Mr and Mrs Weasley and your heart warmed as you saw Mr Weasley sweep up his wife in a goofy manner, beginning to waltz her through the garden just like in the sky.

Following them in the sky came Harry and Ginny. Everyone laughed when Ginny's figure scooped Harry up bridal style and kissed him on the lips. Fake smoke erupted from Harry's firework ears as he kissed her back. So I guess you and Ron weren't the only ones the twins would tease about their love life. You glanced over at the real Ginny and Harry, laughing as you saw Ginny slapping her knees from laughing so hard. Harry stood next to her, his face as red as the fireworks.

After their figures left the sky, you knew what was coming.

"You don't think they're gonna..." Ron started, his voice sounding shocked.

"Yes, I think they are," you responded, equally as stunned at Fred and George's antics.

And then there you were. Yours and Ron's firework figures were running through the heart together, your hair whipping behind you in a beautiful display of orange and red sparks. Your heart stopped when you saw Firework Ron turning to Firework y/n, dipping her low into a stereotypically cheesy pose, and kissing her. The garden erupted into even louder cheers and laughter. Fred and George were smiling and giving you double thumbs up from across the garden.

You couldn't help it, you laughed along with them. It was so ridiculous, that everyone knew how you and Ron felt about each other all these years, everyone except the two of you. It took Fred and George literally having to spell it out in the summer night sky for you to realize that maybe Ron did feel the same way.

You turned from watching the sky to Ron, still laughing, and noticed he wasn't looking at the fireworks. He was looking at you. He was looking at you like you were the most important thing in the summer night, nevermind the fact that there was a grand firework special going on behind him.

Before you knew what was happening, Ron had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the oak tree on the side of the house. Since everyone had gathered in the garden to watch the fireworks, the tree was well away from the others and it was significantly quieter. Your heart was beating so loud you were sure it was just as loud as the booms of the fireworks. The show continued in the sky as Ron led you to the tree, not releasing your hands until your back was pressed against the hard bark of the oak.

"Y/n," he whispered, leaning closer and closer to you. His hands slipped out of yours as he reached up to cup the sides of your face.

"I have something to tell you," he breathed, his eyes glancing from your lips to your eyes.

You held your breath, heart hammering against your ribcage, as you waited for the words you had been dying to hear for years.