#i myself actually COULD do it as a true shot drinking challenge i am just genuinely afraid at how many
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bbeelzemon · 2 years ago
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star wars rewatch idea: take a shot every time someone falls into some kind of hole or shaft
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bropunzeling · 1 year ago
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for the never have i ever meme: slow burn!!
god a real true slow burn is my white whale, concept wise; i want to write one SO BAD. obvi there are some pairings where that is easier than others (brady/anyone, ducklings could also make a great slow burn but probably more stupid than swooningly romantic lol) but i keep thinking about matthew/leon as like, a personal challenge. like, ofc i have written them fucking and falling in love [redacted] times but a version of them where they don't fuck and still fall in love??? now that's a CHALLENGE challenge
for more realism points, you could have some future fic wacky trade shenanigans, and perhaps someday i will write somethign with those so i will selfishly keep them to myself until i know more. but a thing that i am not going to write (but think about often) is my version of "both of them get drafted by the kraken in the expansion draft (and no one knows how edmonton or calgary could've let that happen)"
because the thing is, the kraken are gonna be shit. everyone knows this. seattle isn't vegas, they're not going to be going to the cup finals their first year out the gate. ron francis has time to build up the franchise. they won't be good. and that eats at leon, because like, when in his life has he ever been satisfied with not being good? never. and now he's stuck on this shitty team just starting out and got abandoned by his franchise and what the fuck is he supposed to do now.
and the other thing is, 2020 was not all that long ago. and yeah, leon never actually hated matthew tkachuk, not in the way it got spun up, but that doesn't mean they're best friends. not even buddies. they are teammates, and they have a job to do, and leon doesn't need to get along with the guy except on the ice.
except a week into the preseason, he and matthew go for some pr thing to a local brewery, and in between tasting beers that are disgustingly hoppy and eating too many pretzels, matthew hisses across the table that look, he knows leon doesn't like him, that leon isn't his biggest fan, but doesn't he want to work together? doesn't he want this to work out? and when leon glares back, matthew adds that he at least wants to prove his old team wrong.
well. leon can't argue with that.
first season is shit. the way everyone knew it would be. but it's not - absolute shit. they get a lot closer to the playoffs than they have any right to. leon and matthew and mccann are producing. and - turns out matthew isn't so awful, once he's out of calgary. turns out he's down to do whatever - team bonding experiences, checking out new restaurants. and half the time, leon gets roped along. he stops protesting after a while.
second season, though -
they're better. they're a lot better. francis made some solid moves; they managed to snatch up a first overall pick at fourth. matty beniers is here from ann arbor, and yeah he looks at matthew a little like matthew hung the moon, but that's mostly funny instead of annoying. the ntdp really is a cult. matthew and leon aren't always on a line, but when they are, they click.
and matthew hasn't stopped being down to do whatever. has continued, in fact, to insist on doing things. exploring the city. becoming regulars. they'll get lunch after practice. drinks after games. on the road, more often than not, when leon's making plans, he's making them with matthew.
halfway through the season, they're on track to at least get a wild card spot. maybe better. during their bye week, they join a group of guys going to cabo. at the bar, matthew orders them both drinks in flat midwestern-accented spanish, clinks his shot glass against leon's. leon spends half a second staring at matthew's hand around the tiny glass, then his mouth, wet and red, before he remembers to take the shot.
when leon takes his shot, he opens his eyes to find matthew looking back at him, eyes dark and heated and unmistakable, and oh, this is not something leon wanted to know that he wanted. not now, when they still have so much to prove.
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anashins · 3 years ago
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The Right Kind of Wrong
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Title: The Right Kind of Wrong
Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: hate to love, cheating, college!au, friendship, romance, smut
Warnings: smut, cheating, cursing, toxicity
Word Count: 8.454
Summary: There are many reasons for you to hate Jung Jaehyun. Aside from being cocky and selfish, the fact that he is dating your best friend is another one of them. But his mesmerizing smile - to hell with it - just isn't.
____
There were at least a hundred things you hated about Jung Jaehyun.
The fact that he was dating your best friend was just one of them.
Not a single day had passed by in the last year in which she hadn’t complained about her boyfriend having flirted with another woman, having ditched her again, going to a party and ignoring her all night, or simply dragging her mood down by one of his unpredictable and hurtful actions.
Aside from being cocky, selfish, arrogant and reckless, Jung Jaehyun was absolutely incapable of being a decent human being for more than ten seconds, and you were wondering why he was so damn popular despite all his faults.
When you went out with your friend group, he mocked the boys trying to hit on you, telling you they were so desperate for that move. When you were attending the same class, he purposely sat down next to you to distract you from the lesson. When he was at your dorm, he kept moving your things onto high shelves, knowing you couldn’t reach them.
And his smirk everytime he did so… his smirk every time he mocked you was so annoying. But also so hot.
Fuck, you thought whenever his mischievious eyes met yours again, and you had to turn away, at a loss for words and afraid he’d caught you flushing. You were so ashamed, because you actually wanted to hate him.
There were many reasons for you to hate Jung Jaehyun, but his mesmerizing smile wasn't one of them.
You hadn’t hated him from the first moment that you two had officially met as you had gotten introduced to each other through your best friend who was also your dorm mate, though. She had found him on a dating app, and you had found him sitting in your class two days later, talking back to the professor.
Back then, you had started admiring his intelligence and courage. But those were the only two positive things you had spotted so far as you only tried to stay as far away from him as possible, emphasizing his negative character traits over and over again.
But the truth was that staying away from him was a very hard thing to do, and you fought every day for your sanity, trying to be a good friend and suppressing your controversial feelings for a man who was absolutely forbidden to you.
“He went drinking last night and I saw an instagram story of him grinding against another girl on the dancefloor!” your best friend complained in your arms, tears on the verge of flowing. “Who’s doing that even?!”
A few pairs of eyes turned into your direction, but when you threw fierce glances at the people staring at you, they passed by very quickly.
When you had been invited to your friend Johnny’s house party, you hadn’t expected to be spending the evening comforting your best friend, even though that had been your daily routine for the past three weeks.
It had grown toxicly usual for Jaehyun and her to fight in a two to three day rhythm over the smallest things, and although their wonky relationship or whatever it was hadn’t been very steady before with them breaking up nearly monthly, lately it had grown almost obnoxious.
“Why don’t you just break up with him?” you suggested again and immediately felt your heart sink.
It wasn’t like you wanted them to break up because you wanted Jaehyun for yourself. You’d never do that to her.
Your best friend was just constantly hurting, and it hurt you just as much when you saw her suffering so greatly. Jung Jaehyun wasn’t a good guy, and you both knew. Yet, she couldn’t let go of him. You knew exactly how that felt.
Even if they were to break up, he wouldn’t belong to you. Because a friend’s ex was a taboo. So having Jaehyun gone entirely from your lives would kill two birds with one stone.
“Not that again!” your friend whined and retreated from you, sinking into the couch with her arms crossed and no signs of tears anymore. “I can’t! I mean… look at him! He’s so hot, and don’t get me even started about his skills in bed. That’s where we usually make up, you know, so-”
“I’m going to get you something to drink!” you interrupted her and jumped up. “You totally need a cocktail now! To come to your senses!”
You loved your best friend dearly, but you didn’t want to hear about Jaehyun’s skills by all means. At some times, your friend didn’t have a filter, and then, it only spiraled downhill from there. You heard them often enough in the dorm, that was already pushing you to your limits.
When you entered the kitchen, you reached up to get a glass from the shelf, but like most of the times, you were too short for the remaining ones at the very top.
“Here, let me help you.”
A soft voice echoed from behind you, but before you could turn around to follow the tone, the guy had already heaved up his arm and reached over you to the very top of the shelf to get you a glass.
Shifting around, you faced the mischievous expression of the young man you had wanted to avoid and who your best friend was currently crying over.
Without a “thank you”, you reached out your hand to grab the glass from Jaehyun, but he immediately shot his arm up to bring the glass high over his head and far out of your reach.
“You think a simple ‘thank you’ is too much for you?”
“Fuck off, Jaehyun.” You crunched with your teeth and narrowed your eyes. “I’d rather die of thirst!”
“What did I do again?” He rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner as though his high spirits got ruined. “What did she tell you?”
“She told me everything she saw from last night!” you defended your friend. “That’s enough for me to get the picture!”
“Okay, and did the picture somehow include me pushing the girl away after she had grinded on me?”
You gulped.
“Just as I thought.”
He placed the glass on the counter, but somehow, this hadn’t got your both’s attention anymore.
“There are two sides of the same coin, yet all you've ever done was looking only at one.”
He approached you, and the rising hotness in your cheeks made you withdraw until your hips bumped into the kitchen counter.
Jaehyun leaned in and propped his arm against the same spot right next to your hip as he asked, “I know you’re her best friend, but being a friend doesn’t mean supporting your friends delusional, one sided thoughts into oblivion. Being a friend sure means to support, I’m not denying that. But being a true friend means to tell someone when they’re wrong. And I am not the one at fault here, y/n.”
“You were doing many stupid things to hurt her in the past!” you started blabbering just to bridge over the silence you’d get when you would stare at his mesmerizing eyes for a little longer. “How am I supposed to believe you?”
“You aren’t supposed to believe me.” He retreated, with the glass in his hand. “All I’m asking for is a chance to explain myself.”
Again, you were flabbergasted by the way he expressed his thoughts that stood in contrast to his questionable behavior. One of the main things that fascinated you. But you quickly turned this feeling into hate by recalling his wrongdoings from the night before.
Looking at the glass, Jaehyun continued, “Yes, there were many things I did wrong in the past. And I’m not going to pinpoint my finger at my girlfriend to tell that she was doing just as many questionable things as me. But people have reasons for doing the things they do. That’s probably why we’re such a good match.”
You didn’t understand a word. In your eyes, and you only knew about their relationship by what your friend told you and what you observed when you were hanging out, the two weren’t a good match at all.
He was the one constantly hurting her feelings, and she was the one to always get hurt.
Or... wasn’t it?
Jaehyun then thrusted the glass into your hand. “You’re lucky, y/n, you know that? It must be so great, living that freely, without any burdens… So oblivious to everything.”
With these words, he disappeared from the kitchen, leaving you behind all alone with the glass in your hand.
You looked at the item, your face getting reflected in the crystals to unrecognizability while Jaehyun’s words still kept you occupied. They had such an impact on you that you suddenly started to question whether your hate against him was actually valid.
When you stepped out of the kitchen yourself with a full glass of your best friend’s favorite cocktail in your hand, you found her in Jaehyun’s arms again, wildly kissing, his kind words suddenly vanished from your mind upon spotting them.
Instead, there was a little monster called jealousy sitting right inside your chest.
___
“8am in the morning! Who even places classes that early?!”
With a groan, Jaehyun flopped down in the seat next to you.
“Shut up, class is about to start.”
“Man, you must be really fun at parties,” he replied. “The professor is not even here yet.”
“You’re annoying, Jung Jaehyun, and if you weren’t dating my friend, I wouldn’t actually talk to you at all.”
“What are the odds we’re still connected to each other, huh! Tell me, y/n, what did I ever do to you? How did I ever hurt you? We’ve never even really spoken with each other ever since we’ve gotten introduced.”
“And I am grateful for this every single day.”
“What is it that you hate about me so much?” he questioned further, his eyes challenging.
But with your eyes straight ahead and no words on your lips, you ignored him as the professor entered the room only a short moment after, announcing the class’ start.
Your pen flew over the sheet, noting down the professor’s words when suddenly, goose bumps spread all over your arm.
When your eyes followed the trail to its source, your right elbow touched Jaehyun’s left one as a result of your hectic writing motions as you had moved too far to the side. The spot on your skin was so warm and so…
You withdrew your arm right away, placing it back to where it usually belonged, but Jaehyun’s own limb had moved so far to the left that you had no place to rest it next to your notes anymore without having his skin barely one inch apart from you. You weren’t touching anymore, but he was so close that you still felt him somehow.
Of course you could drop your arm and place it on your lap as the professor had stopped presenting the most important points of this lesson. Of course you could just move further away with your entire belongings, but the fact was that you didn’t. That you couldn’t.
Instead, you were fixating your eyes on the board right in front of you, listening to your professor’s words but not actually understanding a single syllable that he uttered as your heart beat fast against your chest.
You hoped that Jaehyun didn’t notice how desperate you were for him not to shift away right now. That you actually enjoyed it, but felt so much hatred at the same time. Not against him, but against you - for feeling this way.
“Can you answer my question, Miss y/n?”
Your eyes widened in shock as you got addressed by the professor by your surname. You were actually a good student who was always paying attention in class. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have happened. But now you got caught red handed not listening to him, and he was a very strict lecturer.
“I… um…” you stuttered.
“The answer to my question, Miss.”
“Yes… the answer…” You gulped as you didn’t even know the question. “The answer is…”
From the corner of your eyes, you perceived how a sheet was slowly moving into your direction from Jaehyun’s place. His finger was pointed at a paragraph that you had also noted down only shortly before.
Suddenly, you knew what the question was about and answered formally to the professor’s task.
With your heart having calmed down after the shock, you let yourself sink down on your seat again. You had gotten distracted only once by something that shouldn’t bother you at all.
This wouldn’t happen again, you swore to yourself.
____
“No ‘thank you’ again from you?”
You turned around to Jaehyun who had rosen a brow at you. “Is this becoming your thing now? Asking for ‘thank yous’?”
“Is this becoming your thing now?” he returned. “Not saying ‘thank you’? I saved your ass in class.”
“Well, I haven’t asked for that, so go beg somewhere else for attention.”
You made your way through the crowded club, feelling the bass under your feet and the techno music in your ears. Jaehyun was following suit.
“Do you want some kind of reward from me? Because you’re not going to get it.”
“I don’t want a reward. Hey.”
He reached out and grabbed you by your arm, right there on the dancefloor. The feeling from this morning returned, but in a higher intensity as it spread all over your body.
“All I’m asking for is respect.”
You snorted. “Respect? Do you respect my friend when you destroy her weekend plans to go drinking with your friends instead? Do you respect my friend when you dance ass on ass with another girl? Do you respect my friend when you hurt her feelings with your rude words? I don’t like you, Jung Jaehyun, because you’re a bad person, and respect is the last thing you’ll ever get from me!”
You yanked yourself out from his grip and disappeared in the mass. What was up with him? Why was he bothering so much lately and evoking all these controversial feelings inside you by acting like this? He should just stay away.
With your eyes closed, you started to move with the music, all by yourself there on the dancefloor. You wanted to collect your thoughts, but as the music flooded through your body, you realized that thinking about nothing was probably the best way to cope with your inner struggles right now.
You opened your eyes widely when you suddenly felt a hand on your bum.
Turning around with much anger reflected in your mien, you stared at a boy around your age who grinned at you seductively. Your fierce gaze was probably mistaken for an invitation when he approached you further, grabbed you by your hips from the front and pressed you against him.
With his lips on your ear, he whispered, “I like what I see.”
And you wanted to scream. You probably did, but it got drowned out by the loud music, and his grip was way too hard for you to free yourself that easily as you shuffled in his arms.
“Let me go!”
Yet, his hands roamed around your private areas like they owned it.
“HEY!”
Before you could scream once more, the guy got dragged away from you by the last person you had expected it from.
“She said let go of her, you asshole!”
Jaehyun grabbed him by his collar, and his height and angry expression alone were probably enough for the other guy to nearly piss his pants as he hastily mouthed,
“I’m so sorry!”
When Jaehyun let go of him, he slipped off silently and wasn’t seen again.
You stood there awkwardly with your arms hugging your chest, still digesting the happenings.
“Did he hurt you?” Jaehyun asked when he leaned in for you to understand better.
You shook your head.
“Do you want to go outside?”
You nodded.
Jaehyun took you by your hand to lead you through the dancing crowd, and you didn’t protest.
This gesture was the total opposite to the disgusting one from the guy who had harassed you shortly before. This touch was raw and chaste. Nothing to be ashamed of and fight against, but something you wanted to accept wholeheartedly.
When you stood outside of the club, Jaehyun let go of your hand, and you finally whispered the words that he had been longing to hear for quite a time,
“Thank you.”
Against your expectations, he didn’t mock you or return witty words. With his eyes locked with yours, he sincerely told you,
“You’re welcome.”
That was the moment it dawned on you that Jung Jaehyun had more positive sides to him that you had always wanted to blend out. But perhaps, you had reached a point in which this wasn’t possible anymore.
You couldn’t continue keeping your eyes closed to all the kind sides of him. Because the more he showed you, the more you’d open your heart for him.
To you, Jung Jaehyun had to remain a bad person, otherwise you’d fall for him, and falling for your best friend’s boyfriend was a taboo.
“Hey, what are you two doing outside?!” Speaking of the devil, your best friend jumped out of the club’s door and into your direction. “Isn’t the music fun?”
Jaehyun looked at you, waiting for your reaction. You knew that if you wanted to go home, he’d follow. If you wanted to stay, he’d stay too, not letting you out of his sight. Because - and you couldn’t repeat this often enough - Jaehyun was actually a good person.
“I want to go home,” you decided. “You can stay, though! Please just let me be the party pooper all alone, I don’t want to spoil your night.”
“Oh, what a pity!” your friend said with a pout. “You always leave when the party is about to start!”
You shrugged with a weak smile, tired of fighting. “Yeah, I guess so. But I still have a lot of pages to revise.”
“Shall we take you back to the dorm?” Jaehyun offered in a caring voice that you apparently encountered for the first time, and your friend immediately shot a reproachful glare at him.
“Are you being serious right now?” she complained. “She’s a grown ass woman who can go home alone!”
His eyes hadn’t left yours. “I’m talking to her, not you.”
Had it always been like this? Her caring about herself more than about you? If it were the other way around, you wouldn’t let her go home alone in the middle of the night, no matter if you knew something had happened before or not.
Suddenly, you saw your best friend from a whole other perspective. Suddenly, she was the one having Jaehyun on a leash, and he was the one fighting back for his rights, not against her.
Two sides of the same coin… If you were to flip it, would your entire world view change?
For a moment, you hesitated. But not wanting to disturb your friend’s evening, you gave in with a, “It’s okay, I can go alone. Have a nice night!”
But Jaehyun held you back when he insisted on calling you an uber for which he even paid while your best friend continued pouting on the side.
____
“FUCK YOU, JAEHYUN!” you heard your best friend scream later that night from her room, every syllable of hers clearly to hear in your own room while you laid in bed later that night.
The hours before had passed by in a trance as you had only fallen onto your mattress face forward after having quickly changed into your pj’s, that was how much of a toll the day had taken on you.
You just wanted to forget what had happened in the club, but also the thoughts that had constantly been in your mind all the way home that only revolved around Jaehyun. So sleep was the best solution, and you would have gladly continued doing so if there weren’t your best friend and Jaehyun arguing loudly next to you for an hour already.
Then, Jaehyun seemed to return something to which she screamed again, “I DON’T FUCKING CARE!”
Stomping followed the brief silence, a door getting opened, then shut again, and footsteps moved into the direction of the entry door before it fell close behind Jaehyun.
This was a nearly weekly experience for you lately, and usually, you’d just miss hearing their arguments, but this time you couldn’t help but to wonder what they had been yelling about. You just hoped it wasn’t because of you and what had happened to you earlier, because in your eyes, Jaehyun had done nothing wrong.
He had been so incredibly nice and thoughtful that you started to doubt their relationship.
You turned in your bed, wanting to fight those thoughts so badly. Jaehyun was your best friend’s boyfriend, and hence, forbidden fruit for you. But you just couldn’t stop your imagination from running now.
What it would be like in your best friend’s place and get treated like this every day, and the worst part was that you didn’t even feel bad about betraying her in your mind.
Fuck, you only thought and sat straight up in bed, now surely not being able to grasp a light thought to accompaby you back to lseep anymore.
Feeling safe to leave your room ten minutes later as your roommate must have fallen asleep by now, you didn’t think about sleep anymore but wanted to get a glass of water from the kitchen to calm yourself down.
Perhaps, tomorrow, you’d have another look at the entire situation, you tried to convince yourself. After a few more hours of sleep, all these confusing thoughts and feelings might have already been forgotten.
“Cannot sleep yet?”
You turned around and found a half naked Jaehyun only dressed in boxers right in front of you. The empty glass of water in your hands got placed back on the counter with shaky fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you contered.
“Well… she suddenly left.” He shrugged. “We’ve been arguing. You sure haven’t missed that one.”
“I didn’t.”
Still, you were wondering what that was all about, but didn’t want to ask. He lifted the weight off your shoulders himself though.
“It was about you.”
“Oh…?” You gulped.
“When you were gone, I went back to that guy and didn’t let him go that easily. They threw me out of the club and your friend thought I'd ruined the night for her.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
You wanted to make your way around him, but he blocked your way as he didn’t move to make space for you to pass by the door.
“What’s making me a bad person, y/n?” Jaehyun suddenly asked. “ The way I saved you in class? In the club? Tell me.”
“You cannot be serious right now. It’s 5am, draw a number for another day.”
You wanted to slip under his stretched out arm, but he moved his body to block you again. “Number one. Now tell me.”
“Because those have been the only times you were nice to me, Jung Jaehyun!” You clenched your fists, breathing in deeply. “When we go out with our friend group, you mock the boys trying to hit on me, telling them they’re so desperate for that move!”
“Because I heard them speaking about you before,” he declared. “They were not looking for something serious but only fun, one had even placed a bet. I tried to spare you from this embarrassment and eventual lovesickness. Go on.”
“When we’re in the same class, you purposely sit down next to me to distract me from the lesson!”
This one let him smirk. “Because I always saw you sitting there alone. You have no friends in that class, and I thought you might need some company. Besides… I knew you couldn’t afford that book we needed, and I purposely always shoved it into your direction when the professor read from it. Have you never noticed?”
Now you have. And you were flabbergasted.
“Wh… when,” you stuttered, “you’re over here, you always move my stuff onto high shelves, knowing I cannot reach them!”
“Because I love to see the defeated look on your face and your cute pout when you have to ask me to get the things for you.”
You didn’t know what to say further as you stood there, frozen on the spot. You hadn’t seen this answer coming.
“Anything else?”
Yes, there were many things you hated him for, and you wanted to throw them all into his face, but as he was standing there in front of you, not even one more came into your mind.
“I just hate you to the core!” you hissed.
But with calmness in his voice, he only turned, “No, you don’t.”
And then, it was all only a blur.
You wanted to push him away, but instead, you found yourself nudging against his body. You wanted to free yourself from his grip, but instead, you wrapped your arms around him. You wanted to escape from his kiss, but instead, you kissed him back in the same passionate manner he kissed you.
Jaehyun’s hands roamed all over your lightly covered body while his lips moved against yours, touching every spot he had missed out on during the entire time he knew you, because you had always pushed him away.
But now that you had opened up to him, you were scared the time window was about to close very soon, so you had to work fast.
You jumped on him, hooking your thighs around his waist while his hands instantly clung around your buttocks to give you the support he needed to carry you to your bedroom. Your hands remained interlaced on the back of his neck when he placed you onto your bed and laid himself between your legs.
Thrown overboard were all your morals, priorities, and the friendship to the person that meant the world to you. You didn’t want to think about all that, but were longing for him so desperately that you wondered for how long you had been suppressing that desire already.
Jung Jaehyun was hot. But he was a bad person.
Or… wasn’t he?
You desperately ground upwards against him, feeling him growing between your legs, and you brought your hands down to massage his length. Jaehyun interrupted your kiss as he hadn’t expected this move to come, and groaned into your ear.
You smirked triumphantly, your hands kneading muscles until he was pressed hard against your palms. Tucking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you slid the garment from his hips, revealing his bum. Your hands glided along his curvy, soft mounds, grabbing into them like you were testing ripe peaches.
Jaehyun was pecking your lips as you slid your hands under his body again and closed around his entire girth. He stopped for a moment, but the second he continued on, you started moving your hands, top on top, along his length.
Not being able to concentrate on the feeling down there and kissing you simultaneously anymore, you perceived how Jaehyun got weak with supporting his body on his own arms that he had rested to the left and right of your head. So you decided to take the lead from here on.
Sitting up yourself, you put your palms on Jaehyun’s chest and pushed him backwards onto the mattress. He watched you with surprised eyes, but didn’t protest as you sat on his thighs, eyeing his member with much anticipation.
You slid further down his legs, nearly close to his ankles, and bowed down. With your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, you led him to your mouth. First letting the tip pass by your lips, then his entire length up until the very middle.
You only heard him swearing, “fucking shit,” before Jaehyun covered his face with his arm placed over his eyes and his other clasping the sheet by his side. Your hair grazed over the area around his navel while you moved your head up and down, cautiously slow at first to give yourself time to adapt to his length.
Then, you started bobbing your head, increasing the speed with every time you came up and nearly let him slip out, your fingers that had closed around him sliding in the same rhythm, adding to the pleasure. The slurping noises that came along with this act filled the room until they got drowned out by Jaehyun’s moans.
He directed his hand towards your head and grabbed it by the back, ruffling your hair between his fingers while he started to thrust upwards, meeting you halfway in the fast motions. Like this, he was able to reach deep within you, but still not far enough so that he could hurt you.
When you witnessed him twitching his legs, you stopped, held him still by the base and decided to tease him further a bit before you allowed him to release himself. With the tip of your tongue, you touched his glans, trailed along the slip and then circled around the entire top part.
Jaehyun’s swearing words came in a never ending trail like a waterfall that you couldn’t really understand all syllables from, but you were sure you did a good job and rewarded him for being patient with the motions from before again, but this time with added pressure and passion.
Suddenly, he grabbed you by your arm, urging you to stop.
“Or else I’m gonna cum,” he said and sat himself up, flipping you around so that you laid under him again.
Hastily, you got rid of your top while Jaehyun worked on your sleeping shorts until shortly after, you were both lying naked on top of each other. You wanted him desperately inside you, because you just didn’t know when you’ve had had sex the last time, but instead of wanting to get through this fast, Jaehyun took his time.
That was when you realized that this entire joining was probably more to him than just sex to get it off. You had thought that because he hadn’t been able to get it tonight from your best friend, he’d take it from you. But the way he touched you insisted otherwise.
If it wasn’t more than just sex, he wouldn’t trail his fingers over your ribcage in feathery-light motions, admiring every inch of your body. If it wasn’t more than a body-focused act, he wouldn’t place soft kisses not only on your mouth, but also onto your forehead, your cheek, your neck… If it wasn’t more, Jaehyun wouldn’t be so damn thoughtful and tender.
He remained his tenderness and his gaze didn’t leave your eyes as well when he finally nudged between your thighs, pushing forward until he filled you up to the brim.
Restraining himself from starting to move right away, Jaehyun took his time to ask you whether you were okay at first when you let out a quiet “oh” that alarmed him. But you were eager to calm him down when you explained that it was only because you hadn’t been with a man in so long, and somehow, after speaking it out, it made you feel embarrassed.
As the boyfriend of your best friend, he’d surely know when you had been in contact with a man the last time, and you hated yourself for being so pressured by society to feel ashamed of who you were and how you lived your life.
But instead of judging you, Jaehyun only nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and suddenly, you were flooded with such a warm feeling towards him that you nearly cried. Rarely had you encountered a man so considerate and caring.
“Tell me when I can go on.”
You bit your lip and felt the uncomfortable pressure in your nether regions getting replaced by a feeling that you hadn’t encountered in so long. A feeling that made you want more, want him.
Holding onto his shoulders with both of your hands, you nodded back at him with a smile which he then returned. When Jaehyun started thrusting in and out of you, your eye contact didn’t break, and you were sure that right now, you were looking at the real Jaehyun at this very moment.
Not the guy you hated. Not the guy your best friend was dating. But instead the person who wanted to protect you from guys that only wanted to use you. A person who offered you company in class and shared his equipment with you. And a person whose cheekiness and affection he showed through childish acts because he didn’t know how to express his feelings otherwise.
This was not the person you were sure of knowing all along. Probably because you hadn’t even gotten to know him in the first place.
One arm now clung around his neck while with the other, you grabbed the pillow beside you. You threw your head back in excitement, his pushes coming in short intervals one after another, and he was hitting all the right spots with them.
Jaehyun propped his arms up to the left and right of him, lifting his upper body to gather all his strength in his groin area and stopped for a brief moment before he thrusted inside you with such force that it nearly knocked all air out of your lungs, and you couldn’t respond with anything else than moaning.
It felt so good, so… right. But how could something so wrong still feel so right?
Right now, you didn’t hate Jaehyun or your best friend the most, but yourself and the fact that you continued on and on. That you brought your hips up to meet his thrusts with hazy thoughts and his lips all over yours when he slowed down with his movements to dedicate himself to caressing your breasts.
You felt Jaehyun’s hot tongue swirling over your buds, and you shook under him. Not because it felt cold, but because his tender caresses just felt so good. You didn’t have the feeling that he could do anything wrong with whatever he carried out, that was your impression about how well your bodies meshed together.
No, you didn’t hate Jaehyun. You had always only hated how he had presented himself to you. But there was so much more to him.
Sweat droplets showed on his forehead when he continued with the hard thrusts again, the sound of you both breathing heavily mixing together with the sloppy noises of your bodies moving against each other filling the room, but no matter how messy sex was, it was the most romantic thing you had experienced in a long time.
Your eye contact also didn’t break when Jaehyun arose above you, his sweaty chest glistening in the dim light that shone through your windows, and increased his pace even more. When he dropped his head and bit his lip in the process, you wrapped your arms around him and added pressure to your nether regions as you felt him approaching his heights.
It felt very good to you too, but you were by any means not as far as him yet, so you didn’t blame him when he came only a short moment after with a groan that sounded sexy as hell to you.
You held him tightly when he fell limply onto your chest, still breathing heavily from the orgasm that slowly faded. Staring at the ceiling, you smiled with him in your arms, just enjoying the moment when Jaehyun moved away from you.
“We’re not done here yet,” you saw him grin as he laid himself next to you, rolled onto the side and placed his head in his palms as he propped his elbow against the mattress.
You wondered what was to come when you felt his finger tips dragging from your thighs to your navel, then lower again and stopped right at your most sensitive spot.
“Oh!” you let out as he placed two fingers on your folds and started moving them up and down with your remaining juices as lube that made the intense feeling kick in almost immediately.
You screamed when he added pressure and now directed circling motions around the sensitive bundle of nerves. From your half-closed eyes, you witnessed him looking at you with such admiration but also cheekiness as you writhed and wreathed under him, yet spread your legs even wider as release was so close.
Jaehyun leaned in to you, his fingers not letting go of the continuity as he half covered your body with his and just kissed you passionately. Like this, he encountered first hand how the orgasm took over you, and you moaned into his mouth, riding it out against his hand.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he wrapped his arms around you right after and pulled you onto his chest, and you drifted off into a slumber shortly after.
Even though the first tendencies of your bad consciousness set in before you closed your eyes, you decided that this would be the problem of tomorrow.
No, you didn’t hate Jung Jaehyun.
If anything, you should probably hate yourself.
___
“YES… YES… YESYESYES, OHMYGOD!”
You heard your friend from the other side of the wall, having rudely awakened you in the early morning hours. At least you thought so. But a glimpse at your phone through sleepy eyes told you that it was past 11am already.
Within a second, you were wide awake.
You were still naked, but the clothes on your floor only belonged to you, and the spot next to you in the bed was empty.
“OH!MY!GOD!.... YES! OH… OH.... AAAAH… OHOHOH… YES!!”
Jaehyun was gone. At least from your room.
Your best friend’s headboard constantly bumped against the wall, and you grabbed your pillow to cover your ears with it. You didn’t want to hear the sounds. Not because they stole your sleep, but because somehow, for the first time, you didn’t feel disturbed by the noise, but actually hurt.
In your mind, you imagined Jaehyun’s mesmerizing smile, the witty expression he was constantly wearing and his deep voice that had showed you for the first time last night that there was a certain softness within it.
You felt hurt, because you knew all the things from last night had been real between you two, yet he was still fucking your best friend mere hours later. What you had shared and felt had been special, yet he was still with her.
And suddenly, you felt hate again. But towards yourself. For betraying your best friend with him. But first and foremost, for betraying yourself.
You had never hated Jung Jaehyun.
You had always felt some certain kind of attraction towards him, but kept telling yourself you hated him to push him as far away from you as possible. If this wouldn’t be so wrong under these circumstances, this attraction would feel right and could blossom. But like this, you could never come to enjoy this feeling entirely.
Your relationship had been doomed from the very start, because given the wicked circumstances, you would never be able to form a healthy relationship. It was like a stain that would never vanish on a white sheet.
So you just decided to continue as usual. To keep this a secret between the both of you and just to carry on with your life.
And to hate Jung Jaehyun just a little more.
You just didn’t know how to feel and act towards your best friend without feeling so much… regret.
“Good morning.”
But the young man stepping out of your best friend’s room wasn’t Jaehyun. But Johnny.
You sat there in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your mouth agape. And then it started to rattle in your head.
Lately, there were times when your best friend had screamed the name “Jaehyun!” loudly during the act. Those were the times you had actually seen him the next morning. But the nights she hadn’t screamed a certain name, no one had ever come out. And those times, you had counted more than the ones with Jaehyun in the past weeks, just when their loud arguments started on a nearly daily basis.
“Where’s Jaehyun?” you asked without greeting her good morning as you walked into her room.
“Oh, we had a fight last night,” she explained to you while getting herself dressed casually. “And then we broke up. I went away to be with Johnny after throwing him out, and we’ve only gotten back this morning. I hope he left last night already and didn’t stay here.”
“What?” you wondered.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”
“You actually already got over it as I’ve seen!”
“Oh, Johnny?”
“You’ve been fucking him for weeks already?” you provoked.
She shrugged again. “Perhaps a month… So what?”
You stood there, totally lost for words. “You’ve been crying about Jaehyun to me ever since you got together! That he flirted with other women, ditched you, went to parties and ignored you! And now you’re telling me you’ve been cheating on him for quite a while?! And this instagram story drama from last week?”
She sighed and flopped down onto the bed. “Okay, admittedly, I’m not an angel in this story, but he is by far neither! He was not. There were many things he has done wrong in the past. But then he actually started… doing nothing wrong. Being the picture perfect boyfriend without all these flaws and drama. And perhaps, this is not something that I want, so I started to look around elsewhere.”
“So…” You paused, still processing the shock. “Was it all an act? All the times you’ve cried to me over him lately while cheating behind his back?”
“Not an act, precisely,” she said reluctantly. “Yes, he explained every situation to me. And I was being dramatic over it for nothing, perhaps. I don’t know… I still enjoyed being with him though, but it just didn’t feel right anymore. I want to have men just… telling me I’m right, always coming back to me… what’s a relationship without fire? But Jaehyun didn’t want to do this anymore.”
In your head, you recalled everything that Jaehyun had told you. About there being two sides of the same coin, about you being so oblivious. All this time, he knew that she had cheated on him. He knew what you thought of him, yet he had never made a move to ever explain it to you.
But why?
“As he should,” you then stated. “How you treated him was awful!”
“Only because I cheated on him a few times?” she chuckled. “Come on!”
“I’m your best friend, and yet you lied to me! You twisted and turned stories so that you’d always be the one at right! But the truth is, you’re the bad person here. Not him.”
“Now what? He’s gone from our lives. Don’t care about him.”
But the truth was, you did. Now more than about her.
That was why, an hour later, you found yourself in front of his dorm. When he opened shortly after you had knocked, you stared at him, still gasping for air as you had run the entire way here, with all the memories from last night coming back with each step.
“She’s been cheating on you,” were the only words you brought out.
“I know.”
“For how long?” you asked.
“I assume for just as long.”
You breathed in heavily, not understanding a word. “But why did you stay with her?”
Jaehyun smiled meekly. “Because I don’t think I deserve a good person like you are.”
It ran hot and cold down your back. “I… I don’t understand.”
He leaned against the door frame with crossed arms, and even though he seemed uncomfortable talking about his feelings, he still did.
“I haven’t been the best boyfriend for her most times in this relationship, I admit this openly. We weren’t really good for each other and it destroyed me to the point that I wanted to change. But when I started being the boyfriend she had wished for, it wasn’t right either and she started cheating. So I just settled with it. Because I thought I screwed up to that point where I won’t be able to make anyone happy anymore and also don’t deserve the same in return. Even though I only wanted you...”
“You douche!” You stomped with your feet on the ground.
“What?” he returned perplexed with furrowed brows.
“Everyone deserves love and to love! And you’re not different from anyone else!”
His confusion got replaced with a mild smile. “You’re so kind, y/n. That’s one of the things I like the most about you. But you’re also oblivious.”
Jaehyun pulled out his phone, scrolled through his messenger and started playing a voice message from a very familiar person.
“Why do you even care about this bitch, Jaehyun?!” In the background, you heard music and other people talking. “She’s a stupid nerd, and I’ve only befriended her because she helps me studying and listens to my complains since we’re dorm mates, so don’t even waste a single thought about this party pooper!”
You stood there as though you had been rendered motionless. Your heart had dropped to your feet.
“This is from last night when I quickly went outside again to check whether you rode away safely with your uber and she couldn’t find me directly. That’s why we argued and broke up. No, it’s not the first time she’s talked about you like this.” He put his phone away. “I thought letting you hate me would make it easier for a kind person like you to keep their distance from someone like me. Because, in the end, I will only hurt you too. But the more I started to genuinely like you, the more I felt protective towards you. I couldn’t see her speaking about you like this anymore.”
Your breathing came in hitches as your whole world suddenly crashed over you. Your best friend wasn’t your best friend. She had probably never been.
You stumbled backwards, and Jaehyun stepped forward to grab you by your arm, but you pulled it away.
“I…. I just…” you stuttered. “I have to… talk to her.”
“Sure.”
The whole way home, you only cried.
Not over Jaehyun, but over the betrayal of someone you had considered your best friend, yet had hurt you in the most painful way like no man ever could. And the fact that you had been an asshole to her to the same extent after having slept with her boyfriend the same night they had broken up was probably the final straw.
You were no saint here. You had added to your both’s downfall just as much. And it hurt much more than any heartbreak you had experienced so far.
You had to sort your life out and right now, and amongst this chaos there was no place for Jaehyun in your life.
____
You put the last vase with dried flowers on your shelf, stepped backwards to your room’s door and inspected the final set up.
“Finished!” you praised yourself.
It had taken you three months to move to a new dorm, but this was your last step to a new chapter in your life.
You hadn’t had contact with your former best friend ever since your final conversation in which you had handed the keys over to her. The many conversations before had only consisted of screams, accusations and tears.
She had admitted to saying all those things about you, but also to genuinely have come like you. You weren’t so sure whether that was real or one of her lies again. You had admitted to sleeping with Jaehyun, and she would have forgiven you for that as she hadn’t been really in love with him anymore at this point, but you were sure you didn’t want either in your life anymore.
Your best friend because she had hurt you deeply, and Jaehyun because of your burdensome history. All of you had done so many wrong things, and you were only a bundle of toxic people together, so chaotic that you were better off apart from each other.
But you didn’t want to be this toxic kind of person anymore. So you moved out and left your old life behind.
You didn’t go to that class with Jaehyun anymore, and although you missed him, the touches of your joint night still present on your skin sometimes, you wanted to move on from even the mere imaginations of him as well. You were sure that you’d find a guy just like him, but you missed him wherever you went and couldn’t help but ask yourself “what if?”
The fact that he hadn’t reached out to you either made it easier, and as summer break came and passed, and the new semester started, you had kissed two news guys already, made a new friend group and were just overall happy.
But you still missed Jaehyun dearly and all the possibilities of what could have happened if only your timing had been right in life. Even if he wasn’t the right one for you.
“Is this seat taken?”
And then, one day, there he was again. Taking the seat next to you as though no time had ever passed between the two of you, smiling that mesmerizing smile you didn’t hate.
You only stared at him, and his kind expression didn’t break. When you moved your head to the front again where the professor introduced himself, you couldn’t help but to smile too. Because this wasn’t the expression of a bad person.
People changed, and just like good traits could turn into bad traits, a bad person could turn into a good one also. And they all deserved a second chance.
You had only known the Jaehyun from your best friend’s perspective, and then also his body. But even though you had gotten a glimpse of the real Jaehyun here and there, you didn’t quite know him entirely yet.
But you wanted to. The good, the bad, the real. Jaehyun wasn’t the right one for you, but such a thing didn’t exist. What mattered were only your feelings.
Because in fact, you didn’t hate Jung Jaehyun. At all.
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bjornswoman · 4 years ago
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Toxic I
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Requested by none.
Author's note: Hey guys! First of all, thank you for your support. As for this, it was supposed to be one-shot, but there is going to be a part two. Stay tuned, thank you for reading this and have a nice day!
Pairing: Modern!Ivar x Reader
Genre: Modern!au, smut, angst, drama.
Summary: You and your ex end things.
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, strong language, cheating, a little bit of jealousy.
Part two
"And do you know what's the worst part? The worst part is that instead of hating you, I am hating myself! Because I still fucking believe that you are a good person! When you clearly aren't!"
"I am not a good person, right, (Y/N)? And you? What about you? You are a good person right? If you believe that, you are wrong! You are as evil and bad person as I am! We are the same and you can't do nothing about it! Admit it, my love, you are as ruined as I am!"
"You are the worst person I have ever met, Ivar! I don't even want to look at you! How could I even let myself trusting you? Falling in love with you? What a fool I am!"
"Falling in love with me? If you call this love, then clearly you don't know what love means, (Y/N)!"
"Oh right! And you do know, don't you? You know everything! You are always right! You don't know what's love either! How could you, you have never loved anyone!"
"Don't fucking turn your back on me when you are talking, woman! Don't you dare to leave! I haven't spoke my last word!"
"Fuck off! You are the one who always says the last word, the conversations end when you decide, but not this one! I don't want to hear anything! We are fucking done! I can't stand you, Ivar! I just can't......"
You left after that, but there were night that you wished you had stayed. Maybe if you did had stayed, you would be his wife now and not that bitch. Her name was Freydis or something. She was the most fake person you had ever met. She was beautiful but fake and that meant a lot of things for her. She was happy with her rich husband. Actually, wealth was the only think whick made her happy. She didn't care about Ivar, he was the last thing she cared about, when he seemed to love her.
You were both happy and angry about this. That woman clearly didn't love him, but he loved her. You were happy that he had found a woman to really love. You knew that whatever it was between you wouldn't work out. You had always been fighting for nothing. He was overreacting about men being around and the same you did about women around him.
His words were true. You were the same, that was the main reason a relationship between you would never been healthy. That didn't mean that you there wasn't love. You loved him and he loved you, but you were so alike to make it work. Both of you so bloody stubborn and short-tempered. In that house of yours every day were setting a battle between Ivar and you. Most of the times he was the one who decided that it had to be finished. He was worse than you, that was true, but you were bad yourself.
You were married too. Your husband was a good man and a successful businessman. So a deal between Ivar and Erik, your husband, was something that happened and you hadn't seen it coming.
Now you were having dinner with him and his wife at some restaurant, acting like you don't know each other. His piercing blue eyes glanced over at you sometimes and you did the same thing. He looked older, obviously, there were two years from your last time together. His hair was longer than before and his body seemed stronger.
Your eyes stuck somewhere after a while. It was Freydis' round belly. Your eyes widened and your husband along with Ivar noticed. That annoying smirk formed on his face. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were jealous because he impregnated Freydis and not you. In fact, he had told you that due to his deformity he was unable of having children of his own, but you were the one who told him that this was possible.
"What is it (Y/N)?" Erik asked and you cleared your throat ready to talk. You didn't want to sound all surprised or something. You just wanted them to think that you were just happy. You truly were, but jealousy was the other feeling you had inside you and was eating you alive. You couldn't deny its existence, if you did, you would lie only to yourself, because from the way Ivar was staring at you, you knew too well that he knew how you were feeling as well.
"You are with child! Congratulations!" You said happily and she smiled. She caressed her round belly and Ivar did the same. That move was the one which hurt you the most. "How far are you?" You asked her, but she didn't even opened her name to respond, Ivar was the one who answered you.
"We are on the sixth month." He said all happy and kept staring at you. "What about you? Do have or want to have children?" He asked. You let Erik answer this. He knew your answer. You had told him about this a long time ago.
"Unfortunately, Gods haven't blessed us with a child yet, but both me and my wife, (Y/N) want a child." He said and pulled you closer by your waist and kissed your neck. That was something who didn't went unnoticed by Ivar. He didn't like that movement, you could say. His jaw clenched, but the smirk didn't fade away from his face.
"I hope Frigg bless you with a child!" Freydis exclaimed with a fake smile on her face. You smiled back and caressed your husband's hand. Ivar wasn't pleased by this, but he had to understand that you didn't belong to him. You didn't belong to anyone. You were an independent woman.
"When the Gods think that we are ready the child will come." You spoke and lifted your glass to drink some of your drink, but it was empty. You smiled at all of them and turned to your husband. "I will go buy myself a drink, do you what one?" You asked and he shook his head, meaning that he didn't want a drink and you stood up. You walked to the bar, Ivar was following you. You hadn't noticed but you did when you saw him next to you. The bar was away from your table, so you could curse all you wanted.
When your eyes met his blue ones, they were already up on your figure, you rolled yours and turned to the bartender.
"Scotch without any rock for the Mr Lothbrok." You said looking at the confused face of the bartender.
"Lemonade vodka for Mrs Nelson." He spoke with his cold, stable voice. You turned to him with a smirk on your face.
"Actually, it's scotch on the rocks for me." You said, still looking at him.
"You didn't like scotch before. You used to drink vodka." He stated, placed a cigarette on his mouth and light it up with his favorite lighter. This specific one he loved the most. It was a gift from his mother.
"A lot of things has changed." You said and placed a cigarette on your lips as well, you didn't need to search for a lighter, he light it up for you. "For instance, now I am smoking as well. I didn't use to do that when we were together." You continued and inhaled the smoke of your cigarette. Then you exhaled and took your drink.
"Nah, I don't think so. I see the same stubborn woman, I knew back then. I bet that if I kissed you right now here, you would lean in me kiss." He said and you turned to face him. Who did he think he was? His words upset you, because they were true. Your body responded immediately to his touch, it craved his touch. Actually, you wanted him to touch you know, here. You didn't really care about anyone, but that round belly got you out of your filthy thoughts. That woman had his child inside her. You pushed him back angry and looked back at your table. Erik and Freydis were busy talking about whatever.
"You wouldn't dare." You warned him and that arrogant smile, that you secretly loved, formed on his face. He pulled you closer to him by your wrist. His mouth was inches away from your ear and his hot breath fell on your neck as he spoke.
"Is this a challenge or something?" He whispered to you and your body shivered. He enjoyed it. Probably, he loved seeing like that, loved seeing that he had still such a power on you, after your miserable wedding. You marriage was arranged. Your family needed money and Erik Nelson had a lot lf them. He was a good man and that year of your marriage were good, but you couldn't love him the way you loved Ivar. You could never love anyone else the way you loved him, neither you own husband.
You pulled away from him and tried to calm yourself down. The last thing you wanted was Erik to understand anything. He would start asking things and that would be unpleasant for both of you. But neither Freydis should understand. She was pregnant.
"No, Ivar, it isn't. There are no ifs or challenges. Both of us are married to another people. Your wife is pregnant. You are having a deal with my husband. Things are already complicated Ivar, we don't have to confuse them even more." You started saying. A tear was about to be dropped from your eye. He seemed sad as well. He loved Freydis, she was his wife, the mother of his child, but you, you were the woman he loved more than any other. You would always have a place inside his heart. "What happened between us it was destined to fail. You had told me once that we are the same, that's true, we are and that's the main reason can't be together. We are toxic for each other." You said and wiped the tear awawy when it was dropped.
He didn't answer and that surprised you. Ivar had always had an answer for everything you said, but now nothing. You smiled at him and started walkimg again. His hand stopped you again. He pulled you closer to him and your back collided on his chest. His leaned down mis mouth was close to your ear.
"Meet me after this parody of a dinner and we will put an end on us." He whispered and you closed your eyes for a moment. This would never end for you, but you would meet him.
"Fine." You whispered and both of returned to that table.
When you sat down on your chair your husband's hand wrapped around your waist and his lips left a soft kiss on your cheek. You weren't affected by that. The only thing you could think at that moment, was what would happen after this.
"I got worried about you." Erik said and you rolled your eyes. He was flirting with Freydis. He flirted with any woman, but you didn't really cared being cheated by him. You wouldn't give him the child he wanted it. Your life was miserable and a child would be miserable too and that would be unfair for this kid. He was nothing but good to you, but that wasn't enough for you to love him. You couldn't help your feelings for Ivar. You couldn't make them disappear.
"There were many people waiting for drinks so me and Mr Lothbrok were late." You said looking at Ivar. He was talking with his wife, caressing her belly. Your gaze returned to Erik. He had understood that something was bothering you, but you started talking before he ask. "I am not feeling so well. Can we just go home, Erik?" You asked him and he looked through your eyes. He could sense that something was odd with you and he didn't want to ask anything more than what he already knew.
"We will." He whispered to you and turned to Ivar and Freydis. They were already watching you. Erik had this smile that he had always wore on his face. "(Y/N) isn't feeling alright. I hope you understand that we have to leave. Excuse us, Ivar." He spoke and Ivar's blue eyes met with yours.
"Yes, totally. Erik we will be in touch." He said and all of you stood up. Freydis started walking infront of all of you and Erik followed. "Meet me in an hour where we met for first time." Ivar whispered to you when you walked infront of him. You just nodded and left with your husband.
-------------------------------------------------------
When you reached the place, you found him there. He was sitting on a rock and smoking. That reminded you of the old times. You had always found him like this back then.
"You are late, as always." He spoke and threw the cigarette away. He was about to stood up but you stopped him. You sat down next to him. "Your husband is a fool." He said and you turned to face him angry.
"Don't call him that! He is a good man and I feel enough guilty because I lied to him just to meet you." You said and he laughed. That laughter was music to your ears. You missed that. But that laughter meant to mock your husband, so you wouldn't let him see that you liked it.
"It's so easy to lie to him, (Y/N). I told you he is a fool and don't get angry, it's just fact." He stated. He said all of that just to piss you off and he succeeded.
"Anyway, we didn't meet here to talk about Erik. In fact, you told me to meet you here and I came. What is it, Ivar?" You asked, looking at him now. He didn't know how to start, there were so much to be told.
"That night you didn't really stayed to listen what I wanted to tell you." He started and you felt that your mouth was dried. You didn't want to remember that night. It was painful for you. "You told me that I had never loved anyone, but that's not true. I loved you. I was going to tell you, but you never cared to listened to me, (Y/N). You were the only woman I had ever loved. And, as everyone else, you left me because obviously you didn't feel the same thing." He said coldly and you narrowed your eyes. That wasn't true.
"What are you saying?! I did and I fucking do love you even now!" You yelled and stood up fro the rock. You turned your back at him and you placed your hand on your head. He stood up as well. You could feel him right behind you.
The hand of his that didn't hold the scratch, turned you to face you and pulled you closer. You didn't dare to look at him.
"(Y/N) look at me!" He ordered and you obeyed. "Say what tou said before again." He said, but you didn't open your mouth. "Fucking say it!" He yelled.
"I said that I still fucking love you, Ivar." You confessed again and he smiled. He guided his lips on yours. That shocked you, but you leaned in his kiss. You missed the sense of his lips on yours. He was biting your lips hungrily and his hand was pressing your body to his. His grip there was strong and he hurt you a little bit, but you didn't mind. "Why did you do that?" You whispered trying to catch your breath when you pulled away. He didn't let you escape from his strong grip, so your body stayed trapped to him.
"Because I love you too." He said and leaned closer to kiss you again, but you didn't let him kiss you. Ivar looked at you, frowned out of confusion.
"We can't do that, Ivar. You are married and your wife is pregnant and I am married as well." You said, but he didn't seem to care about all that.
"I told you after this night we are done forever. So, let me enjoy this night (Y/N)." He said and pressed his lips on yours again. You didn't resist you let him kiss you. This time his tongue started playing games with yours. His hand that gripped your waist, placed on your hip and squeezed it. You moaned within your kiss and he smiled. "Let's go down there as the old times." He said and you followed him. There was a beach. It was peaceful there. You used to go there all the time when you were together.
You laid down on the sand and he came on top of you. He started letting little kissed, that became little marks after a while. Your moans because of him, drove him crazy. He stopped the contact between your neck and his mouth only to get rid of your shirt and your bra. After this, his attention was on your breasts. One of his hands cupped one of your breasts and the other was attacked by his mouth. You felt really wet and you couldn't help it. Only Ivar could make you feel like that. Your own hands started unbuttoning his black shirt and you took it off his body.
Your eyes fell on his tattooed torso. He covered in tattoos. Your hands started touching his body and he continued doing what he was doing.
"Ahhh, I can't.... Ivar...... I need you....." You said with your moans and he smiled. His skilled hands moved to your jean skirt and he took it off your body along with your panties.
You groaned when his fingers touched your inner thighs and started circling them. Without any warning, his fingers entered you and you screamed him name. His fingers were moving rough and fast inside you and you were moaning louder than before. Your hands forned fists and trapped inside them sand.
"If you continue that way, I will cum on your fingers." You said and he continued what he was doing, but this time his finger moved even faster than before. You couldn't keep yourself anymore. Your walls clenched around his fingers. "Fuck....." You screamed when you realeased yourself on his fingers. He placed his fingers on his mouth and licked your juices. You tried to catch your breath, but he didn't let you because his hands unzipped his pants and took them off along with his boxers. He stroked his member twice before he take place between your legs.
He pushed himself inside you and you growled. He moved fast inside you and that hurt you, because you weren't used with his size. Each time his thrusts were deeper and stronger. You feeled that he was touching you core. You were moaning each time he was pushing himself inside you and he was growling.
"Tell me how good I fill you." He said and you looked at his blue eyes. You tried to catch your breath for a while and answer but that wasn't possible at that moment.
"You....... a-are...... the-the best." You moaned loud and he started laughing. "Fuck....... I-I... can't......" You muttered and he moved rougher inside you. "I'm..... coming....." You announced and you you squeezed around himself. Ivar groaned. "Ivar!" You screamed when you left yourself released around him.
"Fuck, (Y/N)." He growled and pulled himself out of you. Your sweaty body was covered in sand. Your body was covered in purple marks, as well, from his strong hands or scratches and you neck had some hickeys. He laid on sand next to you and turned to look at you, as you were trying to find your breath. "Come on, woman, ride me." He spoke and you did as he said. You tried not to harm his legs. You had this fear that you would hurt him and you didn't want that. You had always been afraid of that. "Move!" He growled and your movements became faster. Your were on top of him, but he couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to feel you again. His hands grabbed you hips firmly and pushed you down to him. He thrusted roughly inside you and you groaned. You started moving your body up and down. His hands were hurting your bruised hips, but you didn't care.
"Ivar...... Ahh, Ivar!" You screamed, when the thrusts of his were rougher and faster inside you and hit your core. Your second release was close and his first too. You clenched around him and he squeezed your hips tighter. "I......... I...... can't.........." You moaned, as you released around him. You closed your eyes tightly and he kept thrusting in you, until it was time for his release. His hot seed filled your walls.
You opened your eyes and found him gazing at the night sky. It was a starry night. He pulled out of you. You got off him and laid down on the sand. You were a mess. Your body was hurting.
As he said, after all this, he put an end on you. Or not?
Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius
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honeybeezx · 4 years ago
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Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 2
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Author’s Note: Hey all! Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! This one will have a lot more of our favorite prince and paramour and the reader is such a badass. I’m really having the most fun writing this you guys have no idea😄
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of sex
Enjoy, love you all and as always, feedback is welcome!
——————
The brothel smelled of incense and sex. The men who had paid for the services apparently had no reservations about silencing their pleasure, nor the women. You were mildly annoyed by it all. You didn’t care or consider it lowly to work or attend a brothel, but it just seemed so...fake. People pretending that what they were feeling was love or passion when really it was just men finding release, both from sex and from their normal lives, and women getting their coin.
Not that you really knew what actual love was like, but you did know it wasn’t this.
One of the girls brought you to a room near the back. The ornate doors swung open to reveal who you could only assume was the prince and his princess. You weren’t really sure what you expected, but you found yourself shocked. He looked princely, certainly, but you weren’t expecting him to be so...striking. Bronzed skin against golden cloth...he looked like a work of art. And his princess was equally captivating. Her dark locks cascading against her dress seemed to compliment her lover’s own clothes. They both seemed to have a strong demeanor, even while they were allowing themselves to be vulnerable, wrapped in each other’s arms. Both of their heads turned to look at you, brown eyes meeting yours. You wondered how their gaze could even fall upon you when you were presenting them with the finest women the capital could offer.
The women you now know as Ros introduced you by both birth name and the one bestowed upon you through the tales spread throughout Westeros. The prince smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. The woman in his arms might as well have been undressing you with her eyes.
“The Silver Hawk.” He smiled, taking you in. He left his paramour’s side to stand before you. Your guard wasn’t easily lowered by attractive people, but even you had to admit they were both intimidatingly beautiful. The prince’s exposed chest and the heat of the princess’s eyes had your heart beating faster than you cared to let on. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My brother told me the stories about you and your silver arrows. Is it true that they were enchanted by the gods so that you can never miss?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I trained hard to achieve the level of skill I possess, I assure you.” The stories people told about you these days were becoming more absurd by the day. And you were slightly offended. To just be handed a gift with no hard work, no sense of accomplishment was no gift at all.
“Will we get the chance to see you prove that?” Ellaria asked hopefully as she joined her prince’s side.
“Perhaps.” If the Lannisters or any other of the terrible people in this city continued to annoy you, you didn’t doubt it, but you were not going to put on a show...Even if the Dornish woman did make your heart beat faster in your chest.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” She smiled with a wink.
You cleared your throat and focused. You were here for a reason after all, and that wasn’t to entertain the guests with your skill. “The hand of the king, Tyrion Lannister apologizes for his absence this evening, but he wanted to offer these ladies as a welcoming gift and hopes you’ll excuse him.”
“A gift indeed.” His eyes raked over you, the woman behind him smirking. “A shame that Tyrion hides such an exquisite woman behind the ugly walls of the Lannister dwelling. You should be out in the sun, letting more people admire your beauty. Too bad...In Dorne, it would be a crime to hide such a rare gem.” It almost seemed like the prince couldn’t hide his desire, even if he wanted to (which he most certainly didn’t). His eyes traveled everywhere, from the tips of your boots to the smallest hair on your head.
You’ve never experienced whiplash before, but you imagined it felt a bit like this. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Not many people could catch you off guard, but not many people were so bold, especially towards you. You could do little to disguise your shock and you took a moment to find your voice. “Prince Oberyn, I am not an option here if that is what you are implying.” You retorted, rather defensively.
“That is not what I am implying, but it is interesting that the thought occurred to you.” He flashed a devilish smile and you wanted nothing more than to punch it off his handsome face.
“That is not what I-“
The prince placed a finger to his lips and you wanted to scream with anger at how easy it was for him to silence you with one simple action. He grinned before backing away, returning to the Dornish woman. “Ellaria Sand, my paramour.”
“It’s a pleasure.” She greeted, her voice dripping with a sultriness that would have made someone with less composure than you blush.
“The pleasure is all mine.” You replied, trying to recover from their boldness. You tried to remain calm, you made a promise to Tyrion that you would make the guests feel welcome. Why he trusted you with this particular task was beyond you.
“Hmm, I doubt it.” Ellaria grinned her eyes still raking over you.
A room full of half-naked women and they settle on me.
Both of them, flirting with the same woman right before their own partners. It intrigued you that they both shared the same lover. Neither of them seemed to care much about the gender of whom they chose to sleep with, only their beauty. They possessed a different type of freedom, one you were unfamiliar with. Your freedom was found when you were hunting, climbing trees, the rare times you found yourself near an ocean. For them, it was shameless passion and love, taking pleasure anywhere they could get it unapologetically. Life was theirs to enjoy, nothing could take that from them.
Which is why you found the fact that they were singling in on your armor-clad body so shocking. You couldn’t comprehend how anything you were wearing could draw their attention in a lustful sort of way.
“You should reconsider, by the way. We are very generous lovers. What a privilege it would be to say we made love to the stunning Silver Hawk of the North.” Oberyn raised a brow at you as he took a berry between his teeth, tongue swiping against the tips of his teeth, making a show of himself before actually eating it.
You cursed your skin for becoming so hot.
“Let me make myself clear Prince Oberyn.” You began, finding some strength to your voice again as you remembered your place, your. “I am not a whore. These women here, they are your options. What you decide to do with them is your business, but I am a guard to the king’s hand and I demand to be treated as such. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must return to the palace.” You turned on your heel to leave, impossible without the prince having the last word.
“One more thing.” His voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned just enough to face him.
“When was the last time you experienced pleasure?”
All you could see was red.
“The first time I shot an arrow through an arrogant man’s chest.” Before you could stop your words they were already hung in the air. You were prepared for the prince to draw the dagger you noticed hanging at his hip, but he made no such move, his hands still around his paramour.
And he smiled.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Silver Hawk.”
“If I see the Red Viper again it will be too soon.”
You stormed out of the brothel, drawing looks from all those around you, but you didn’t care. They both got to you, in more ways than one. How did they break you down so easily? Not even the queen regent possessed such power.
And you prayed to the gods old and new that neither of them would tell Tyrion. You knew it was a false hope, but the last thing you needed was Tyrion scolding you and even worse, letting people know they could both get to you. Your whole life you let your rage burn quietly in your chest, letting it fuel you rather than consume you. But their smirks, their roaming eyes, their words made you feel something you hadn’t in a very long time.
And you threatened him, the Red Viper of Dorne. It wasn’t as if his reputation and stories escaped your ears. He was skilled with every weapon you could think of. To top it off, if he didn’t wish to kill you with a weapon, he was an expert in poisons as well. It was a relief that he wasn’t staying in the palace now, you’d have to find somewhere else to eat and drink every night just to avoid death.
King’s Landing was becoming its special sort of war zone. This was the game of Kings and Queens, Prince and Princesses, none of which you were. It was as if you had been dealt a hand that everyone knew you were going to lose. The Lannisters and the Martells, amazed you how two completely different families could be toying with you, a pawn in this royal game.
Oberyn and Ellaria were just the most skilled players.
As if you needed more people in King’s Landing to worry about.
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“I like her.” Ellaria laughed, still in the arms of her lover. The couple had chosen their girls for the night but sent them waiting for a moment as they discussed you. “You were right, she’s stunning lover. And she has a bite, not many people would challenge you, a prince and a fearsome warrior. I fear we may have scared her off though.” Her smile faltered a bit at the idea of losing their next lover. She wanted you, and there was only so much time before they would be separated by their return to Dorne.
“She is a wild one. Not many women like her. I’m not sure I know many soldiers with her reputation and skill, whether they be man or woman.” He noted as he tucked a strand of his paramour’s hair behind her ear. “I did not expect her to be so offended by us. I don’t think she is as familiar with the pleasures of the bed as we are. We may have to...coax her.” He suggested, scanning Ellaria’s dark eyes, as if he were attempting to read her thoughts.
“She is a strong woman, in every sense of the word. That it itself is something rare, and she knows that. I suspect she thinks we are mocking her, somehow undermining her.” Ellaria noted, recalling your behavior. “She thinks we want to pay for her services, thinks she’s just another girl for us. You may have chosen the wrong moment to be so bold, my love.” Ellaria tried putting herself in your shoes, but it was difficult. Many people knew the legends of the silver hawk, the assassin who never misses, but fewer knew the origin of your tale, how a young woman came to possess the skill of men twice her age, maybe even better than that. But she imagined if she worked as hard as you said you did, only for a man, a prince, to single you out among brothel girls, as if you were one yourself, she could understand your anger.
“Think about it my love,” she began, “you did not exactly explain to her what we were proposing. You cannot blame her for assuming we saw her as another one of Little Finger’s girls.” Ellaria chided as she traced featherlight touches against her lover’s exposed chest.
“A gentler approach may do us good. You are anything but withholding when it comes to who you desire, and at least now she knows. But you may want to start winning her favor with some sort of peace offering.” She ran her hands through Oberyn’s dark curls as he looked at her like a man in the desert looked at water. The Sand woman knew her lover like she knew her own heart, and she knew she was not the only woman who had turned him on this evening. “Go to King’s Landing tomorrow and find her. Don’t apologize for wanting her, never that, but offer our friendship. That may be a good place to start?” She asked, wanting to know what her lover thought.
Oberyn gave a hum of approval before taking his lover’s hand and kissing her palm. “You are the wisest of women.” His hand moved her own so that her palm was now resting on his cheek, his soft, brown eyes still raking over his paramour. “I will go tomorrow to offer our friendship and make peace. I have a feeling that even if we remain friends with her, she will be a powerful and useful ally. She could be just the person we’re looking for to get me information on my sister’s murder.”
The prince’s face turned somber. Ellaria closed her eyes and placed a kiss to his exposed chest. “Do not forget that she works for a Lannister, lover. She may not be so willing.”
But Oberyn shook his head. “No. When I went to the palace the Hawk had her sights on Cersei the entire time. I thought she was going to pierce her with an arrow right in the throne room. She makes an exception for Tyrion, but otherwise, I suspect she has a distaste for Lannisters as much as we do. She may be at least willing to listen to my proposal.”
Ellaria sighed and ran her hand down the prince’s toned arms. “Perhaps, but I don’t want her slipping through our fingers. I want justice for your beloved sister, but I want her too. She is a strong woman, capable of defending herself, but she should not be put in harm's way.”
Oberyn nodded, but he could not shake the deep-rooted desire for vengeance. Every time he saw a Lannister all he could think of was his enchanting sister and her sweet children, and the unfair fate they were given. “I will simply speak to her and offer friendship tomorrow. Her spying was just a thought.” He added, keeping his calm. “We have to earn her trust first and foremost, a task that I’m sure will prove difficult all on its own.”
“Neither of us have been known to back down from a challenge.” She laughed before kissing his collarbone.
“We will just have to convince her of our desires.”
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superbadassnatural · 4 years ago
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Stranger - part one
Summary: After a disastrous date, Y/N decides to drown her sorrows in a bar a few blocks down the road. Luckily, she meets a stranger that manages to talk some sense into her. Pairing: Dean x Reader (future) // Mason (OMC) x Reader (past) Word count: 3,493 Warnings:little bit of angst, fluff, break-up, Dean being the true gentleman he is A/N: this was written for “1541 Folllowers Celebration” hosted by the sweetest of all @herstarburststories (I’m sorry this took me so long). The prompt is bolded. Hope you all enjoy!
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(x)
“Whiskey,” a gravel voice mixed with the sound of the stool being pulled out of the counter. “Neat.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look in that direction. You didn’t want another person to see your face. Not that you cared that strangers saw you crying, but you were already feeling humiliated enough for one night. You downed your shot, closing your eyes as your throat burned.
The music filled your ears. You could only hope this man wouldn’t say a word to you. He was the first person to sit near you since you got here. No one dared to take place even remotely close to you, not even three stools from yours. No one wanted to sit beside a crying mess. No one wanted to feel obliged to ask if everything was fine, even though they already knew the answer.
Sometimes you hated how curious you were. You wanted to know if the man was as handsome as you imagined when you heard his voice. You shouldn’t look. The music. Focus on the music. Loud pop songs echoed in the crowded bar. A group of girls danced and screamed over the dance floor. It seemed to be like a bachelorette party. A few guys hustled pool in the back. Others tried to make their way to undergrads’ panties. Older men sat alone in booths, nursing their beer. On your peripheral view, you watched as the man tapped his glass, asking for a refill. The barman poured him another shot of whiskey.
“Mike, can I get more vodka, please?” You held your glass out for him, batting your eyelashes.
“You already had enough, Y/N,” he walked to you, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“But it did me good, didn’t it?” You raised your eyebrows. “Look, I’m not even crying anymore.”
“I know, but we should get you in a cab.”
“Just one more shot and I promise that’s it for the night,” you stuck out your pinky finger to him. He only shook his head.
“We’ve already done this three times.”
“Fourth time's the charm,” you smirked.
“Only one shot and you’re done,” he warned, pouring your drink. “Then it’s just water for you.”
“Thanks, Mike,” grinning, you took the glass from the counter and downed it.
A sigh escaped your lips as the drink burned its way down your throat. You felt a pair of eyes heavy on you. Placing the empty glass on the wooden counter, you turned to the stranger sitting within two feet from you. Piercing green eyes roamed over your form, studying you until they found their way to your eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat as he seemed to stare deep into your soul. It felt as if he was unveiling your deepest secrets. You half-smiled at him with a little raise of your hand in a finger wave. He raised his glass before bringing it to his lips.
“I’m Dean,” he said with a warm smile.
“Y/N,” the sound of your voice helped to remind you of your real condition.
God, he must think you were some lunatic.
You turned away from him, facing the countless bottles displaying in front of you. Your hands flew to your face, fingers trying to clean the smeared mascara under your eyes. On your peripheral view, you noticed the man standing up from his seat. A shaky sigh escaped your lips as he started walking towards you.
“May I?” He asked, hand on the metal stool beside you.
You nodded, not trusting your voice to give him a decent answer. You just wanted to be left alone, but you didn’t want to sound rude. Unlike other people in the bar, he didn’t give you the same pitiful look. His eyes only showed kindness.
“I heard these guys have the best burger in town,” he said. “Is it true?”
Without averting your gaze from the bottles in the display, you shrugged. You could feel his eyes on you. He clicked his tongue, pursing his lips.
“You from around here? Have you eaten here before?” you didn’t answer him. “Right,” he sighed. “Guess we should order and see it for ourselves then.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” you turned to him. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I didn’t come here to flirt. So if you don’t mind-“
“Wow, wow, I’m gonna have to stop you there,” his green eyes widened. “I’m not trying to flirt with you or anything. Don’t get me wrong, but you seemed pretty beaten up so I thought that maybe you would enjoy some company to get your mind off whatever it is that’s bothering you. Now if you don’t want me here, then just say the word and I’m gone.”
“No, uh, you can stay I guess.”
“Good,” he gave you a short nod. “Burgers?”
“Yeah,” you smiled weakly.
Dean ordered a bacon cheeseburger with a portion of french fries. You decided to order the same. The two of you waited in silence. Not that there was a need to say anything. The food arrived along with two beers. A moan escaped Dean’s lips once he took a bite of his burger.
“Hmmm, this is so good,” he grumbled, his eyes closed and mouthful.
Your lips curled into a small smile at the sight of the stranger savoring his food. You took a bite of your burger, repressing a moan in the back of your throat. It wasn’t the first time you’d tried their food, but it had been a while though. They still had the best cheeseburger in town for sure.
“It’s good, huh?” He asked you, lips curled upwards.
“Yeah, it is.”
You finished the rest of your food in comfortable silence. Both too focused on the heavenly taste and the greasy french fries.
“Shit, you shouldn’t be having that,” he said as you took a sip of your beer.
“Of course I should.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” he shook his head. “That Mike guy said you already had enough to drink tonight and from now on you would only have water.”
“Oh, c’mon, I’m not even drunk,” you nearly whined. “And why would you care?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I just know that if you get really drunk to the point you won’t be able to walk, then someone might want to take advantage of you.”
“Hmmm, you got a point,” you took another gulp of your beverage and he gave you a sharp look. “But you see, Mike is my friend so he’s not gonna let anyone take advantage of me. Especially you.”
“Me?” His green eyes widened, voice rising about an octave or two. “Especially me?”
“I don’t know you. In fact, you could be pretending to be nice just to drug me or something.”
“I’d never do that,” he sounded truly offended.
“How am I supposed to know you’re saying the truth?”
“Guess you just gotta trust me.”
“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, downing the last bit of your drink. “The last time I trusted somebody all I got was an astronomical heartbreak.”
“Since I’m a stranger, I can’t break your heart.”
“But you could kill me,” you pointed out.
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a serial killer,” he rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the bottle in his hand and downing the rest of the beer. “I’m not a serial killer.”
“I know,” you chuckled. “You look harmless, Dean. You seem as innocent as a puppy.”
Dean rolled his eyes, signaling to the bartender to serve another round.
“So do you mind me asking what you're doing here?” He asked, green eyes searching for any expression that gave away the reason you were alone on a Friday night.
“Well, since you’re just a stranger and you’re not a serial killer, then I don’t mind you asking,” you pointed. “My boyfriend broke up with me.”
“That sucks,” he muttered before gulping his beer. “Guess that’s why you look like you’ve been crying for hours on end, right?”
“Right,” you clicked your tongue. “What about you, Dean? What’re you doing here alone on a Friday night?”
“Relaxing I guess,” he shrugged. “Plus, a friend of mine told me the food here is great. I had to figure that out for myself.”
“Hmmm, I see,” you nodded. “Guess I look terrible right now.”
“I wouldn’t say terrible,” he leaned to your side, his lips curving in a playful smile. “You don’t look terrible, Y/N. You actually caught my eyes when I stepped inside.”
“Then you saw my face and-“
“Then I saw your face and wondered what could have broken that pretty girl’s spirit.”
“Mason happened,” you mumbled, eyes focused on the recently opened bottle in your hands.
“So the douche has a name.”
“I thought he was going to propose,” you chuckled humorlessly before taking a large gulp of your beer. “Can you believe it? How crazy is that? I was sure he was gonna propose and he broke up with me!”
“He might be worse than I thought.”
“Oh, he is. I was sure he was planning a surprise. Who the hell invites someone to their favorite restaurant just to break up with them? C’mon, look at me,” you motioned to your body. “I dressed up for this. I put on a really nice dress just to look good. ‘Cause I knew I’d remember this. I was sure I was gonna come back home with a diamond ring on my finger and we’d have some hot ‘hey, we’re engaged’ sex. I’m ridiculous.”
“No, you’re not. That guy certainly didn’t deserve you. If he wanted to break up, he wouldn’t have given you hope for a brighter future.”
“I was probably reading too much into this.”
“So? He still shouldn’t have done it this way.”
“Can you believe he didn’t even pay the check?” A dry chuckle escaped your lips.
“He’s a dick.”
“You know the greatest loves of all time are over now,” you sighed, taking a bite of the last french fry.
“No, they are not,” he shook his head vehemently, staring back at you with wide eyes.
“How do you know that?”
“How do you know they are?” He challenged.
“Look around, Dean,” you said. “Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt? Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore? Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck? DiCaprio and Gisele? They all broke up.”
“So what?” Dean blurted out, his voice rising. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Of course it does,” you argued. “They’re all beautiful, smart, kind people and they are alone. People looked up to them. If they got divorced, then what’s left for me?”
“You have nothing to do with them,” he said. “And since you care so much about famous people and their relationships why aren’t you talking about Beckham and Victoria? Obama and Michelle? Gisele married freaking Tom Brady. He’s way better than DiCaprio,” he pointed out. “The greatest loves of all time aren’t over, Y/N.”
“But why does it feel like they are?”
Tears started to well in your eyes. Your voice wavered just above a whisper. Dean smiled sympathetically.
“You just had your heart broken by someone you care about. It’s okay to feel this way.”
“You’re a nice guy, you know?”
“I heard that once or twice,” he smiled, his head ducking down to hide the blush that crept up in his cheeks. “Now where’s that restaurant you mentioned?”
“Just a few blocks from here. The fancy Italian one,” Dean nodded. “Why?”
“Not today of course, but I’m gonna take you there again sometime.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” Teasingly, your lips curled into a smirk. You were having a blast watching him get all flustered.
“No, what I’m saying is since that’s one of your favorite restaurants, you shouldn’t have a bad memory of it.”
“Thanks,” you smiled, your eyes finding his beautiful green irises. “Dean? Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure, anything. Shoot.”
“When I walked down to this bar I had made up my mind that I would get drunk tonight,” you admitted. “It’s much easier to deal with a hangover in the morning than crying myself to sleep. Can you respect that?” You offered him the best pleading look you could muster.
“Yeah, I can,” he nodded, finishing his drinking and calling for another round. “I don’t judge you, alright?”
“You don’t?” Dean noticed a spark in your eyes when you heard his words.
“I don’t,” he smiled. “I’ve been there. It was a long time ago but I still remember how much it hurt. I drowned my sorrows throughout the whole week. I stank alcohol. Then things got better. They always do. You might not see it now, but you will.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Dean only shrugged. Silence fell between you. Dean finished what it was his last beer while you had a few more and some whiskey shots. Every gulp seemed like a better idea. It was. Anything was better than having that dull ache in your chest.
“Why did he do that?” You drawled as a cry broke out. Dean snapped from his thoughts and turned to you. “If he didn’t love me anymore, why couldn't he make it painless?”
“Because he’s an idiot and he only cared about himself.”
“Why people always leave me? Am I this broken that people just feel like they need to go away?”
“No, of course not,” his voice was gentle, his hand reached up to your cheek, fingers wiping the tears that fell freely. “You’re not broken, Y/N.”
“How can you say that? You don’t even know me.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not broken and if people leave you, then it’s their loss,” a weak smile appeared on your lips. “You wanna hear something?” You only nodded. “What kind of tree fits in your hand?”
“What?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Your mind was too foggy to understand where he wanted to get with that.
“What kind of tree fits in your hand?” He asked again, a playful smile hanging on his lips.
“None,” your eyes casted down to your hands, examining them carefully. “My hand is too small to fit a tree.”
“No, Y/N,” he shook his head, trying to hold back his laugh. “It’s a palm tree.”
You stared blankly at him. Dean could almost see the gears in your head slowly spinning due to the alcohol. When you didn’t laugh, he decided it was better to explain it to you.
“Y/N,” he took your hand in his big one. You hummed. “A palm tree.”
“Oh,” you muttered, gaze fixated on your hand in his. Dean searched for any sign that would give away what you thought of his stupid joke. “Oh!” You blurted.
A wave of laughter came out louder than you expected. His joke finally made sense to you. Dean chuckled. He was relieved you found it funny. At least the drunk version of you did. Your laugh was contagious and the most heartwarming sound Dean had heard in months. He watched hiccups escape your lips with a smile.
“Alright, I think you had enough now,” Dean reached for the beer bottle on the wooden counter, he took a gulp and fished it. “We should get you home.”
“Okay,” you sighed, hands fumbling in your purse in search of your phone. “Here,” you placed it in his hands. “Call an Uber for me. It’s-“
“You’re not getting in an uber like this,” he shook his head. “C’mon, I’ll drop you home.”
Dean placed some bills on the counter, enough to cover your drinks and a generous tip. You hopped off the stool in a quick movement, feet wobbling, legs barely able to hold your weight.
“Hey, easy there,” he said, his hands wrapping on your biceps, keeping you steady. “Can you walk?”
“Mmhmm.”
You followed him to his car. Giggles escaped your lips out of nowhere. Dean only smiled with a shook of his head. He opened the door for you, making sure you wouldn’t bump your head or just fall on the passenger seat. You mumbled your address and were surprised that he understood what you said.
“I… I got a joke too,” your tongue drawled most ridiculously.
“You do?” He chuckled, taking a quick glance at you before turning his attention back to the road.
“I do.”
Dean waited for you to share but nothing came out.
“You not gonna share?”
“What do you call a be- a bear with no ears?” You hooted.
“What?” He smiled at you.
“A B.”
Dean chuckled. It wasn’t the kind of laugh you were expecting though. He glanced at you and noticed your arms crossed over your chest while a pout hung on your lips.
“What’s wrong?”
“You didn’t like it,” you mumbled.
“Of course I did,” he nearly squealed.
He pulled up in the driveway and put the car in park. Dean climbed out of it and circled. A creak echoed through your dizzy head as he opened the door. You hopped off your seat, wobbly feet causing you to lose your balance. Firm, warm hands wrapped on your elbows, keeping you from falling. You were so tired and your legs weren’t even cooperating.
“You sure you can walk?” His emerald eyes scanned you. You only shook your head in defeat, not even daring to meet his eyes. “Okay. Just gimme your keys then.”
Hands fumbling in your purse, you found the keys and handed them to him.
“It’s the bigger one,” you told him.
Dean nodded. Before your tipsy mind could get a hold of what was happening, your feet were off the ground. One arm was under your legs and the other supported your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest. The warmth of his body irradiated through the layers of clothing. His musky scent was almost inebriating.
“Hmmm, so comfy,” you muttered against his flannel.
Dean walked with you in his arms to the front door. He managed to open it without having to let go of you. Stepping inside, his eyes roamed over the living room.
“My bedroom is in the far end,” you explained, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt, eyes closed.
The door to your room was open and Dean was glad for that. He walked in carefully not to have you bumping your head against the doorframe. Dean placed you on the bed. Your entire body relaxed at the feeling of the soft mattress. He removed your boots and you curled up on your side, opening your eyes to see him sitting beside you.
“You okay?” He asked, fingers gently tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.
“Been better,” you said sleepily. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Good. I’m glad,” he smiled, his thumb caressed your cheek. “You’re tired. I should get going.”
“Don’t,” you whined, holding his wrist. “Stay, please.”
“Only for a little while.”
“The room is spinning,” you chuckled.
“God, you’re gonna wake up to a killer hangover.”
“Yep.”
You got lost in his jade eyes, enjoying his proximity and the feeling of his fingers on your cheek. Even in your drunk state, you could still make some of his gorgeous features.
“Why can’t I just fall in love with someone like you?” Your voice was barely audible as you dragged out most words. “You barely even know me, but you’re already taking care of me. You’re one of the good guys, Dean.”
“I try, sweetheart,” he smiled.
“I can see myself falling for you.”
“Nah, you can’t,” he scoffed. “You’re probably seeing two of me right now.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled.
“I’m gonna get you some water, then you’ll go to sleep, alright?”
“Alrighty,” you yawned.
Dean headed to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. He felt bad seeing you this way. He could see it in your eyes how much you were hurting over the break-up. He walked back into the room only to find you already asleep, curled on your side. He placed the glass on the nightstand.
Before leaving, Dean searched for some paper. He fumbled in your drawers, finding a block of sticky notes and a pen. He wrote down on the paper and left it on the nightstand, your phone on top of it. Dean exited the room, closing the door behind him, and left the house. He made his way to the car and he couldn’t help but hope he’d see you again.
Tomorrow you’d wake up to a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and several waves of nausea. Then you’d found his note resting under your phone.
You probably don’t remember me, but I’m the guy who brought you home safe and sound. I can help you remember what happened last night. And I kinda owe you a date to that restaurant you like. Just call me: (785) 389-7216 or don’t. I don’t know. - Dean.
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Read part two here!
I’d love to know what you think of this one! Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!
Forevers: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore 
Dean Sweethearts:@maya-craziness @akshi8278 @herfalsegod @witch-of-letters @weepingwillowphoenix @deanmonandnegansbitch
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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years ago
Text
Day 26: Naughty
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Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Summary: YN and Jensen try to understand why their son continues to misbehave.
Warnings: Fluff, Slight Depression
A/N: Day 26 of my writing challenge! The story from the reader is actually a true story about myself. No hate on any SPN Cast/Character. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!
***ASK OPEN***
*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*
December One Shots Masterlist
Jensen spins YN after he helps her out of the car. They had just gotten home from their date night, something they haven't gotten to do in a long time.
It had been roughly a year since their last date night. And with 3 kids at home, it was hard to find time to do so.
Jensen had finally talked YN into hiring a babysitter for a night so they could go out. She was against it for a long time, especially being a work-from-home mother and it being 3 days until Christmas, but she agreed that they needed a night away from everything.
The two had gone out to dinner, went dancing for a couple hours, and ended the night with a walk around the park. Now that they were home, they felt so relaxed and ready to call it a night.
But when Jensen opened the front door, he knew that idea went right out the window.
The house was completely trashed. Their Christmas tree was on the ground with broken ornaments everywhere, there was water all over the kitchen floor, food covered the walls, and there was a game controller in the TV.
"What in the world..." YN mumbled as she stepped over broken glass.
Jensen looked around, "Where are the kids?"
They looked up when they heard footsteps running down the stairs. Their babysitter, Jenny, had a panicked look on her face when she got to them.
She was panting as she explained, "Mr. and Mrs. Ackles, I am so sorry about your house. I've been trying to clean it as fast as I could but-"
"Let me guess," YN crossed her arms, "It was Randy."
Jenny nodded, "Your son went on a rampage and just started throwing things and breaking things," she paused a moment, "But the trashed house isn't all."
"What do you mean?" Jensen asked.
Jenny took a deep breath, "Randy told Claire and Charlotte that there was no such thing as Santa Claus."
"He what!?" YN yelled.
"They've been in their room crying for hours now. I've tried everything to calm them down, but between that and telling Randy to stop breaking things..." Jenny trailed off.
Jensen pulled out his wallet, "Jenny, you can go on home. I'm sure YN and I can handle it from here," he pulled out a $100 bill, "Here's a bonus for...dealing with all this. We understand if you don't want to babysit anymore."
She took the money from him, "Mr. Ackles, I would love to come back any time you need me to. But maybe after Christmas when Randy is a bit more calm."
"Thank you, Jenny," YN spoke softly, "Be safe getting home."
Jenny waved as she left the Ackles residence. Jensen shut the door behind her then turned to YN. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, both wondering what they should do.
"You want to talk with the girls or Randy first?" Jensen asked.
YN closed her eyes and sighed, "You go to Randy. After I calm the girls down, I'll meet you in his room."
He nodded, "Want me to wait until you get in there do dish out a punishment?"
"Don't worry about a punishment," YN shook her head, "I've got a better idea."
YN started walking up the stairs with Jensen right behind her. As they got to the second floor, they could hear music blasting from Randy's room and their daughter's wailing from their room. They split up, Jensen going left to Randy's bedroom and YN going right to Claire and Charlotte's bedroom.
It didn't take long for YN to calm down the girls. Claire and Charlotte were only 6 and 7 years old, and YN was more than capable of proving to them that Santa was real. She knew the girls loved Christmas and they weren't ready to give up on the magic just yet.
After giving their mom hugs and kisses, Claire and Charlotte moved over to their doll house and were back to being energetic and happy. And now YN had to go and talk to her teenage son, which probably meant a lot of shouting from him.
YN closed her daughters' bedroom, "Now comes the hard part," she walked over to Randy's bedroom door and knocked.
She pushed it open and saw Jensen and Randy sitting on the bed. Randy had his hood covering his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Jensen looked up at YN and shrugged at her.
YN closed the door behind herself and leaned against it, "We're not mad, Randy."
Jensen's eyes widened, "We're not?!"
"Shh!" she glared at him, "No, we're not. We're just confused."
"What's there to be confused about?" Randy mumbled.
YN walked over to him and bent down to look at his face, "You've been lashing out like this for the past 3 years, but only when it's December. And we've never stopped to ask why."
Randy looked up at her, "What do you mean?"
YN glanced at Jensen before looking back at her son, "We clean up the mess, we come up here and punish you by taking your phone or your games away, and then we assume everything is fine," she paused for a moment, "But it's not because we never asked you why you do it."
Jensen reached over and wrapped an arm around Randy's shoulder, "We're just worried something's going on. We just want to make sure you're okay."
"And if you don't want to talk about it right now, that's fine. Whenever you're ready, we're here to listen," YN smiled.
Randy pushed his hood off his face and rubbed his eyes, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Anything, honey," YN replied.
"Why can't I enjoy Christmas like I used to?"
Jensen and YN felt their hearts drop at their son's question. They looked at each other and neither of them knew what to do or say.
"How do you mean, son?" Jensen asked.
Randy shrugged, "Claire and Charlotte get up every year on Christmas day and run downstairs, yelling about how Santa brought them what they asked for," he looked at YN, "But I know there's no Santa. I know it's you and Dad that put everything out and eat the cookies and drink the milk."
YN felt a tear roll down her face, "Honey you haven't believed in Santa in years. You stopped when-"
"When I got into a fight at school over it? I know," Randy wiped his eyes, "The girls still believe though. I wish I still did. Maybe that's why I don't enjoy it...because the magic is gone."
Tears rolled down Jensen's face as he listened to his son. It broke his and YN's hearts to know this is how he felt. And who knows how long he had been feeling like this.
"Does it bother you that we still tell Claire and Charlotte about Santa?" Jensen asked.
Randy shook his head, "No, not at all. It's kind of nice to see them get excited. I just wish I could feel like that, too."
YN sighed, "Randy, let me tell you the story of when I stopped believing. I was actually your age."
"You were 13 when you stopped believing?" Randy exclaimed.
YN nodded, "I held on as long as I could. But I stopped when I was at my grandparent's house and they were talking about my presents. My grandpa got me new colored pencils for my art class. In my head I was thinking about how Santa knew I needed new pencils, but when my aunt walked in the room and asked my grandpa where he got them, I felt my heart drop."
"Did they know you still believed?"
"I don't know," YN shrugged, "I just remember going throughout the day thinking about my past Christmases. I would remember seeing presents next to the tree and thinking how my parents got them for me and not Santa. I was so broken."
"What did you tell your parents?" Randy asked.
YN sighed, "I didn't, not for a couple years. They thought I believed until I was 15. That was the year that I started to really not enjoy Christmas. I would hate going to my grandparent's house, I hated opening presents, I even hated decorating."
Randy looked down at his feet, "How did you get over it?"
YN smiled, "I tried to find just one reason to like Christmas: lights, music, family, food, friends, etc. And luckily, I finally found it."
"What was it?"
YN turned and looked at Jensen, "It was when you were about 4 years old and you ran into our bedroom. You shook my shoulder to wake me up. I was so tired, but seeing that smile on your face made getting up before the sun worth it," she paused and chuckled, "And when we all got downstairs, you didn't go for your presents at all."
Randy gave her a confused look, "I didn't?"
"No," YN shook her head, "You turned to me and your dad and said 'Mommy, can I give my toys away?'. When I asked why, you said 'I have everything I want already. I have you and Daddy.'"
Jensen smiled, "I remember that. We put all the Christmas presents in the truck, took them to a local hospital, and gave them to the kids. And it was all your idea."
"Wow, I did that?" Randy sighed, "I wonder why."
"Because you and I see the joy in others," YN took his hand in hers, "The joy of giving back to others. That magic feeling you have isn't gone. It just got pushed aside. You just have to find that spark again."
Randy smiled, "Thanks, Mom," he looked at Jensen, "Thanks, Dad. And I'm sorry for how I've been acting."
"It's okay," Jensen said, "You're a teenager. If you didn't lash out, I would've been worried."
YN chuckled, "I've got to agree with your dad on that one."
"I guess I should start cleaning up the house," Randy sulked.
YN laid a hand on his cheek, "Let's worry about that tomorrow, honey."
Randy stood from his bed, "Well I want to at least apologize to Claire and Charlotte."
"I think that's a good idea," Jensen nodded.
Randy walked out of his room and down the hallway to his sister's bedroom. YN and Jensen watched him open there door and sit down in front of them. They couldn't hear what he was saying to the girls, but when they stood up and hugged him, YN and Jensen knew he said just the right thing.
"We've raised him very well," Jensen whispered.
"He gets that soft side of him from my side of the family," YN winked.
Jensen chuckled, "Yeah, but he got the good looks from me."
"Hey now," YN turned to him, "Who says he didn't get it from me?"
"Either way, he's a good kid. And he had great parents to help him figure that out."
"Yeah, that's true."
Jensen sighed, "You do know that we're going to have to stay up and try to clean some of the house."
YN groaned, "I know. But that's a part of being parents."
"We could've just punished him and told him he had to clean it," Jensen suggested.
YN shook her head, "No. I think he learned his lesson a different way."
The two watched Randy play with his sisters from his doorway. Every once in a while, Randy turned around and smiled at his parents. They would smile back at him and wave to him.
"I'm just glad he's finding that spark again," YN spoke quietly.
--------------------
Masterlist
My Cherry Blossoms
@mlovesstories​​​​​​ @smollestbean-2​​​​​​ @kitwithnokat​​​​​​
@idksupernatural​​​​ @desiredposion​​​​ @thevelvetseries​​​​ @let-me-luve-you​​​​​
@obsessedwithfandomsx​​​​​​​ @mangueweaschester​​​​​​​ @starchildwild​​​​​​​ @deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​
@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​ @unicornmadness2444​​​​​​​
@emery--nicole--morrison​​​​​​​ @spnfamily-j2​​​​​​​ @akshi8278​​​​​​​ @avocadogirl216​​​​​​​
@imthedoctorlove​​​​​​​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom
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writingfromkitchenator · 4 years ago
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Balthazar ~ Why Can’t You Hate Me?
1,300 Followers Challenge!
Round 2
Masterlist
Requested by Anon
Based on imagine found here by @spn-imagines-nation
Words: 1,645
Warnings: Neutral Reader, trapped reader, smidge angst, smidge pining, smidge fluff, teasing, smidge 18+ themes, kind of a crack fic
You weren't particularly keen on the idea, but with the way things had been going, you were steadily running out of options, and you had to be honest with yourself, you were currently stuck.
The boys sure weren't going to help you and Castiel had all but been grounded.  Even Crowley had gone dark, so it really only left you this option, much to your disgruntlement.
None of this was really changing the fact that you really didn't want to do this.  The two of you had clashed far too many times for your liking, in more ways than one, and calling him now...you were certain to never hear the end of it.
"Little old you needs help from a simple angel like me? What is the world coming to?"  Your teeth gritted, practically hearing his voice in your thoughts.  "How the tables have so dramatically turned.”
The more you thought about it, the more you hated it, and yet the cold bite of steel into your wrists was all the reminder you needed as to why you had to call him, the aching in your arms almost becoming unbearable.
"Balthazar?" You questioned out loud, forcing down your distaste as well as trying to sound as calm as possible, despite the sudden slight increase in your heart rate.  "I know I'm the last person you want to speak to or see, but I could really use your help right now."
Immediately the lights around you began to flicker, you doing your best to shield your eyes as the one above you shattered, showering you in small fragments of glass.
“Dammit!” You cursed loudly, glaring at the angel now in the room.  "Was that really necessary?"
There was a spark of amusement in Balthazar's gaze, although he gave no immediate reaction to your current situation.  “It’s you so...obviously."
You do your best to try and shake the glass off of you.  "One of these days Balthazar, you are going to get exactly what's coming for you. I really do hope I'm there to see it. It would give me great satisfaction."
Balthazar raised an eyebrow. “You called me, remember?"
“I do, actually," You bit.  "And it took me a damned long time to convince myself I needed to, but here we are."
"Here we are,” He repeated, his amusement growing, looking around the room with faint interest.  "Although, where exactly is a bit of an odd mystery to me.”
"Don't drag this out more than it needs to be."  You groaned.  "Give me some credit.”
"For what exactly?"  Balthazar asked.  "Being a pretentious prat even in the face of crisis?”
"Like you are one to talk.”  You growled and tugged on the handcuffs.  "Now, get me out of the bloody things."
He makes no indication to move, just watching you, a smug smile finally tugging at his lips.  “And why should I, a simple angel, do that? You look rather comfortable.”
Your eyes flash with anger. “You know bloody well I’m not, no get me out of this before-before-”
“Before you what, exactly?” He asked and, to your dismay, took a seat opposite you.  “I do believe that you are currently incapable of doing anything, and you were rather right in your thought that I would get great amusement out of this.” A glass of wine appeared in his hand. “And a great view I might add.”
“Drink it up angel,” You growled.  “This is the last chance that you’ll ever get.”
Balthazar smirked, taking a sip of his wine, practically hearing your teeth grinding together.  “We both know very well that that is not true Y/N, no matter how much you want to tell yourself that.”
You glared at him coldly and tugged at both your arms, your shoulders aching from the angle that they were sitting at.  “Come on Balthazar, stop changing the subject and let me go.”
He shook his head though. “I did warn you not to go after Gabriel.”
“What do you want from me?” You groaned.  “Gabriel deserved it and-hang on, how in the hell do you know I went after Gabriel?”
“Apart from knowing you too well?”  He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.  “He told me. Seemed to think that I would get some amusement out of it.”
You stared him, anger boiling in your blood.  “You knew I was here and you’ve just left me like this?”
Balthazar chuckled. “I thought that would’ve been obvious.”
“This is not funny.”
“I certainly think it is.”
You growled and strained on the cuffs again.  “I am going to kick your feathery arse when I’m out of this, just you bloody-”
“I could just leave you there,” He said, earning your glare again.  “If you really want to keep trying to threaten me, even though they are entirely baseless.”
“Baseless?”  You snarled.  “Just keep thinking that.”
Balthazar rolled his eyes and stood, walking over to you, making a subconscious tension shoot through your body as he looked you over slowly, before meeting your gaze again. “I really should just leave you there.”
Your heart rate had increased even more, a fact that you knew he was very much aware of.  “We agreed-”
“I know,” He said quietly, kneeling on the bed to start on one of the cuffs, breaking away from his gaze. “And yet, I don’t think that’s changed anything.”
He was in your personal space, but you couldn’t shift away, forced to watch as he struggled to undo the cuff.  “Can’t you just magic them away?”
Balthazar snorted. “You really think Gabriel would let me do that?  He’s doing this to vex you as much as me.”
“Why?”  You asked, just trying to keep yourself distracted.
He doesn’t answer, finally getting your wrist free, a low groan leaving you as it dropped down onto the bed, relief flooding you.
“You should’ve called me sooner,” Balthazar huffed quietly, shifting over to the other side of the bed across you.  “I do much prefer not having to heal you all the time.”
“You don’t heal me that much,” You grumbled, trying to ignore just how close the two of you were, especially when he was practically straddling you to reach the other cuff. “And I already told you-”
“That you’re stubborn? Yes, I know.”
You shot him a look, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away again.  “Just get me out of this damned thing.”
His fingers caught your chin gently though, bringing your gaze back to his.  For a long moment the two of you held each other’s gaze, undecided, before Balthazar closed the distance, his lips pressing to yours.
A small moan left you, unable to help it, an all too familiar rush, one he always caused, going through your body.  You hated that you felt like you needed this, completely accepting his kiss, completely accepting him as if he was an extension of yourself.  It was the real reason why you hadn’t wanted to call him, you had both agreed that this would never end well.
Balthazar pulled away slowly, you chasing after him for a moment before the two of you looked at each other, both your eyes hooded, chests rising and falling a little quickly.
“Why can’t you hate me?” You asked quietly, not entirely trusting your voice.  “It would be so much easier?”
A smile tugged at his lips and he shook his head, turning his attention back to the other cuff, getting it quickly free, your other arm dropping, a sigh of relief leaving you.
His hands brushed over your shoulders, and you felt the touch of his grace flood into your aching joints.  “You and I both know that neither of us can ever do that, no matter how much we tell ourselves we want to.”
You watched him, the faint glow of grace in his eyes, and you felt yourself relax.  “So…what now?”
Balthazar met your gaze, his hands stilling on yours arms.  “That’s up to you I believe.”
You searched his gaze. “Well…I am still very naked on this bed.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”  He said, smirking.  “I’m honestly still stunned that Gabriel did that to you too.”
“I’m not,” Your hands bunch in the front of his jacket, pulling him closer to you again.  “He’s an arse that thinks this is right for us.”
Balthazar’s chuckle is cut off as you pull him back to you, claiming his lips, the chuckle turning to a moan.  His hands waste no time in pulling you securely against him, or as best he could sitting up.  Your arms wrapped around his neck, not caring how awkward the position was, just wanted, needing, to be as close as possible.
A strange creak sounded from underneath the two of you, making you both stop, wondering what it had been, before it sounded again.
“That’s not a good sound.”  Balthazar said quietly, looking a little worriedly at you.
Just as you were about to ask what the two of you should do, the bed gave out underneath the two of you, crashing hard into the ground, causing Balthazar to collapse on top of you as you both overbalanced, your heads hitting the headboard.
You groaned, rubbing your head.  “Gabriel is such an arse.”
Balthazar looked less than impressed himself, also rubbing his head.  “I think I may join you next time you go after him, that was bloody unnecessary.”
The two of you met each other’s gaze before you both laughed quietly, Balthazar’s forehead resting against yours.
“Dinner first?”  He asked.
“Clothes first,” You chuckled, fingers brushing his cheeks.  “Then dinner.”
He kissed you softly. “No one said dinner had to be public.”
You giggled and pulled him into a firmer kiss, quickly distracting the both of you, and leaving you glad that you had finally made the call for him to come and get you.
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marmolady · 4 years ago
Text
Homecoming: Part One
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Read PART TWO here!
Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister
Summary: Endless Ending. Estela and Taylor spend one last night in San Trobida before returning to La Huerta and facing their future. This was going to be a two-parter, but I got all long-winded, so four-parter is more like it.
Word Count: 3342
Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.
Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​
Thanks for reading!
Parrying the blows of her brother’s sword with the easy grace of a well-honed professional-- she had been doing this since her early teens-- Estela seemed to dance across the basement floor, totally in her element. Then Aleister lurched forward, and she jumped back, effortlessly dodging his attack. But in the landing, she found herself, finally, unstuck. Under the sudden weight of her whole body, her wounded leg gave way, and she stumbled. In a split second, Aleister’s cautious approach fell away and he pushed his advantage before Estela could recover. With a final flick of his blade, she was disarmed.
Estela laughed at the look of plain shock on Aleister’s face at his own victory. “Not half bad,” she commented, impressed that he hadn’t fumbled around taking advantage of her weakness. Her healing leg injury had been a source of great frustration-- despite regular massages of the Vaanti-made ointment concocted using the leaves from The Celestial’s roof, improvement had plateaued. The last thing she wanted was to be babied. “You’re still wasting too much energy with flamboyant gestures. This isn’t ballet-- it doesn’t have to look pretty.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t appear that ‘pretty’ has hindered my performance,” Aleister panted, recovering just enough to be rather pleased with himself.
Offering a hand to take Aleister’s sword, Estela grinned. “Like I said, not half bad. Come on, hermano. We’d better give Tio a hand in the kitchen; it sounded like he had a big spread planned.”
Brother. That was still new. Only in the lead-up to his hand-fasting to Grace a few months prior had Estela gone so far as to utter that word in relation to Aleister. He reacted as he always did, a double-take, then his cheeks going immediately pink. It had been so long he’d craved that acceptance… now that it was there, it seemed it would take him some getting used to.
All attempts at helping Nicolas out with the farewell dinner were met with strong resistance. Some butting of heads later, Estela realised it really wasn’t a hill worth dying on; if her tio wanted to do something special for them all, she’d just have to step back and let him. After all, it could well be some time before he’d have this opportunity again. Come the next day, she, Taylor, and their friends, would all be on their way, and Nicolas would once more be left to an empty house.
As much as she tried to join in the energetic conversations over dinner, Estela found herself distracted. With her return to La Huerta, she’d be taking steps to move on with her life; to come to terms with the grief she’d suffered and get some closure. And then… she was faced with working out what the hell kind of life she’d forge for herself; something that had been made all the more complicated since Aleister had seen fit to bestow upon her half of everything he’d been left after Rourke’s demise. She’d made good progress on coming to peace with that connection, but she was not fool enough to be under any illusions… she still had a long way to go.
The subject of conversation turned to the case against Lundgren-- and the subsequent clearing of Jake’s name-- and Estela shook herself back to the present.
“The evidence is fairly damning,” Aleister was saying as he loaded his fork with beef, egg and plantain. “Certainly, the prosecutors were pleased. That we have access to every file my father ever touched, and a wealth of video and audio recordings, it would be difficult indeed to look at what’s presented and not come back with a guilty verdict.”
Jake smiled wryly, the grin failing to make his eyes. “I’ll give ya one thing, Malfoy, your old lady ain’t a dame I’d want to get on the wrong side of. I guess… we’ll see. Worst case, settlin’ down out here wouldn’t be half bad.”
“We won’t rest until you’re home,” Grace declared resolutely, her dark eyes shining. “That awful man isn’t going to be remembered as anything other than a power-hungry conniving brute. I’ll stand up and make a witness statement in court myself!”
She had, Jake knew, her own haunting personal experiences of seeing that exact brutality at close quarters. It made him sick. “Hey-- I won’t have you dredging up all that. Not for me--”
Grace spoke across him, calmly but firmly. “It’s my stand to take. I had quite enough of being helpless as Rourke’s prisoner; I need to take my power back.”
Jake’s mouth snapped shut. He wasn’t about to argue with that. “The poor defense won’t know what hit it.” The words rang hollow as exchanged a subtle dark look with Estela. The optimism was nice and all, but experience had told the both of them that the world was a corrupt place and ‘fair’ barely counted for squat.
“I know you think I’m naive,” Grace said, “and maybe I am, but the fact remains that we’re not giving in.”
Taylor grinned, confident because she had to be. “I didn’t offer my life force to some crystal alien only for you to not get back to your family. This is a matter of ‘how’ and ‘when’, not ‘if’.”
Beside her, Estela nodded. “Look, we’d be crazy if we just go in assuming this is gonna be a cakewalk. But Pollyanna here is right; we’ll make it happen. We’re not the kind of people who just roll over to injustice, and anyone who thinks they can force us is in for a painful lesson.”
“Dang, Princess… I think you broke Eeyore. She’ll be a motivational speaker at this rate….”
“It’s Katniss, cabron. Y vete a la mierda.”
Jake sniggered into his beer. So, motivational speaker was a little stretch.
With dinner over, the group started disperse. As Estela made to make a start on clean-up, Taylor gently turned her around.
“I’m pretty sure me and Al can handle this. Make the most of tonight.”
Estela looked out through the window to the front porch, where Nicolas had settled with his flask of rum. She took a deep breath. Taylor was right; she couldn’t just let this time pass her by.
Cold beer in hand, she pushed open the front door and stepped out. “It seems like Aleister and Grace’s first bandeja paisa was a hit.”
Nicolas beamed at the sight of her, and clinked her bottle as she sat down in the other chair. “Of course. Either that or they are exceptional actors.”
“No chance,” Estela laughed. “You’ve seen the looks he gives poor Taylor’s cooking. Her confidence has been shot since they’ve been here. At least Grace is polite about it.”
“You must be excited. I’ve said for so long that your potential was being wasted, and now… the world is your oyster. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Estela shifted in her chair and took a long drink.
“What’s that look for, mija?”
“Well, yeah, I’m excited. Terrified, but…. If I finish this degree, I really should think of what I want to do with it. And, well, all that money Aleister’s pushing on me.”
“That gilipollas. You poor thing.”
“Actually, I’m almost getting used to the idea. As much as it freaks me out, Mom would have been so happy to know I’ve got a leg up.” A small smile crept to Estela’s face. “I keep seeing so many things I could help with. Like the schools and universities-- how much could recovery be accelerated if people had better opportunities to learn? Or physically rebuilding so much that had been destroyed, or actually protecting the wilderness of this beautiful place?” She blushed as she caught herself getting passionate. “Rourke International has the capacity to do so much; we could actually have tourists coming here. That hasn’t happened in my lifetime!”
Nicolas chuckled, looking at his niece with clear affection. But he saw the cloud of doubt across her face.
“I…,” she continued, “I just don’t know that I have the right. We just got rid of one dictator, and Mom was collateral damage to a would-be dictator.” A would-be dictator who’s inescapably part of who I am. “Money comes with a lot of power. Even if I’m using it for what I think is good… I could cause a lot of harm.” By the time she finished, her voice was but a murmur.
“True. Alternatively, you could be one of those misers who sit upon their millions while the people around them starve and suffer, buildings crumble, and forests burn.”
“So, you’re saying I can’t win?” Estela demanded.
“I’m saying, the enemy here is ignorance. Ignorance of what greater impacts of your generosity might be, and ignorance of what suffering might go on if that generosity is withheld. The fact that you are even having these doubts tells me that you are not ignorant to the consequences of your actions.”
Estela huffed thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose,” she grumbled after a little while, “that you’d let me be, even for a second.”
“Of course not! I might be getting on a bit, but I am by no means past letting you know when you ought to unstick your head from your own backside.”
Again, Estela fell quiet. She was not going to be existing in an echo chamber. She’d surrounded herself with people that she trusted, with strong opinions and varied perspectives; people who would not balk from challenging her when necessary. If she tried, she couldn’t become a tyrant, regardless of what blood coursed her veins. At any rate, she’d simply be-- for the most part, at least-- channeling funds to others better placed to make the change she wanted to see in her world. She could be as anonymous as she wanted. Perhaps… perhaps it would not hurt to put some faith in herself.
“I take it from your silence,” Nicolas said, “that you’ve realised that once again I’m right. Now, go back to happily daydreaming about all the good you will do.”
Estela sighed dramatically, but smiled at her uncle. “I’m really gonna miss you….”
“I can’t pretend I’ve been looking forward to waking to an empty house again. But the missing you will be temporary; that’s more than I could have dared to hope for not so long ago.”
The same was true for her. And there was no way in hell she’d let goodbye be forever, not now. “Yeah. You’ve got a good point.”
“Again?”
She snorted. “Shut up, Tio.”
_________________________
The night wore steadily on, and Taylor eventually had to retreat from socialising with Nicolas’ other guests to start making headway on her night-time routine. ‘Self-care’ was something she now had down to an art; she even made a point of noting down the steps taken each night so she could easily track what was most effective. By this point, she had a fairly solid schedule. Yoga was followed by a calming cup of mint or chamomile tea, sometimes accompanied by a hot bath-- though tonight it was too late for the nice long soak she’d prefer--, and then she’d wind down even further with a half-hour’s guided meditation. Jake teased her mercilessly, but she really didn’t give a damn. If she could de-stress just enough to keep the seemingly never-ending stream of horrifying nightmares at bay, he could laugh all he wanted.
Slowly, Taylor wiggled her fingers and toes, bringing herself back to the land of the living with a long exhale. Fifteen nights without being woken up by visions of her loved ones’ deaths was the best run she’d ever had, but if those nightmares were triggered by stress, then the imminent return to La Huerta might just be the trigger that would throw a spanner in the works.
The little dog, Fenix, stretched forward and licked Taylor’s toes.
“Okay, okay, I’m back! Was I ignoring you for too long? Thanks for not interrupting my meditation, I guess,” Taylor chuckled. Having the pet had done wonders for grounding her during her regular existential crises. Fenix had come a long way from the mangy worm-ridden creature they’d taken in; still scruffy even with a full coat of hair, she was now bright as a button, and with a tail that never seemed to stop wagging.
“You’d better enjoy having me to yourself while you still can, Nixie-- this time tomorrow, we’ll probably have Furball sleeping on the end of the bed as well.”
Happily oblivious Fenix rolled and tumbled in her human’s lap. Foxes with ice powers were far beyond her frame of reference, but she could sense that whatever Taylor was talking about made her happy, so naturally there was every reason to be in a good mood.
The door creaked, and a just-showered Estela entered the room, clad only in a towel.
“Hey. I heard you talking to Nix-- figured you’d finished your meditation.”
“Hey,” Taylor cooed, feeling herself practically melt as her wife reached down to stroke her hair. “I just finished; went pretty heavy on the self-care tonight, just to be safe. You ready for bed?” She let herself be helped to her feet, and wrapped an arm around Estela’s waist. “Last cuddle in your little single bed for a while.”
Estela smiled. “Last cuddle in our little single bed.”
Taylor changed into her pyjamas and nestled under the covers, waiting and watching in quiet contentment as Estela slipped into a singlet and a light pair of shorts.
“You are so, so beautiful, you know that?”
“Taylor, you tell me that ten times a day.”
“Just making sure you’re aware, lover.” Taylor pressed herself against the wall, making room on the tiny mattress.
“You ordered a cuddle, yes?” Estela kissed and nibbled along Taylor’s jaw, feeling a tremor of an exhale, then sat back to look into the sapphire gaze of her adoring wife. Beautiful just wasn’t big enough.
“So… how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Taylor ventured.
“A lot of things,” Estela admitted. “Getting on that plane to La Huerta is going to bring back a lot of stuff. And saying goodbye to Tio… well, let’s just say, we’d better have a lot of tissues packed.”
Taylor squeezed her tight. “It’s not forever this time. And I think he knows that-- otherwise you’d be leaving again over his dead body.”
That made Estela give a little snort of laughter, but then she shook her head, sighing. “I know the guilt I’m feeling is irrational. Tio is just so happy to see how much things have changed for me. He wants me to go out and live my best life. But that doesn’t mean I can stop myself feeling it, just like that.”
Taylor didn’t have a lot of life experience, but guilt? That, she knew all about. “We’re just going to have to keep talking to that irrational part of your brain, then. Honey, your tio thought you were dead for so long-- you coming back every now and then, smiling, on your way to healing… that’s just the most amazing gift you could give him. And maybe… it’s going to help him move on too.”
“Yes.” Man, I hope so. Estela knew that her uncle had closed himself off to the world. That he’d seen that he’d done his part in life, and then retreated from it. He joked around, but for so long he’d been broken inside. Now, they could make strides towards something better, together-- even if there was a distance between them. Now, Estela had hope for them both.
Taylor snuggled close, spooning her wife from behind, and leaving  lingering kisses upon her neck and shoulders.
“What about you?” Estela asked softly, turning in the warm embrace so she could meet Taylor’s eye. “I guess this will feel like going home.”
“Yeah, I guess it will be. Something like that. It’s a very… it’s a very weird feeling, you know?”
“I can imagine. It’s going to be strange to be back on La Huerta without everyone. The village is gonna be like a ghost town.”
A small smile tugged at Taylor’s lips; in spite of her own worries. Estela sure was perceptive. “It’s kind of freaking me out.” Of course, Estela already knew that, but it had never hurt to actually put the words out there. It was quite clear that they both had to look forward to a crash course in moving on. But that they were alive, and together, and free to do so… it was everything they’d fought for. “I’m bursting to see Diego again, though. It must have been so much weirder for him these past months.”
There was a grumbling, grunting sound as Fenix settled herself into a nest made out of the clothes Taylor had left on the floor. Both women chortled. Nothing like a funny little dog to keep the mood light.
Estela tenderly stroked Taylor’s hair, loving her. “You’ll have a lot to catch up on. It’s gonna mean a lot to him to have you there.” She blushed. “It… means a lot to me to have you here.”
“Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”
“Taylor, we all are. And you’re stuck with us. There’s nothing that can change that.”
As she looked into Estela’s soft gaze, Taylor’s heart swelled. If she knew anything at all, she knew that much. All she had to do was trust in that sweet certainty.
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frenemies-to-lovers · 4 years ago
Text
More of the Story | Cardan POV Missing Scene, post-TWK
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A conversation between Nicasia and Cardan, set right after TWK. This missing scene was inspired by the moment in QoN when Nicasia tells Jude that she got more of the story out of Cardan while she was in exile.
In which Cardan calls Nicasia on her bullshit and talks about why he loves Jude.
((One shot. 2890 Words. Cardan is definitely pining a little.))
 [Read on AO3]
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Although I left the brugh and the feasting and the dancing early in the evening, I am arriving back to my chambers very late.  I spent the last few hours with The Roach and The Bomb, who are helping to bring on more spies and have also been designing a new home for the Court of Shadows. I am certain they aren’t actually in need of any assistance from me other than my gold, but I need something other than court politics to fill my time.  It’s been weeks, and Jude still hasn’t returned from the mortal world.  She hasn’t even responded to the two letters I’ve written imploring her to return.
As I near the royal chambers, a member of my personal guard gives me a nervous look.  
“Your Highness. I tried to get to her leave, but she would not,” he says.  
My heart skips a beat.  
But as I look beyond him, I see Nicasia standing in the hall. I don’t know why part of me had expected to see Jude. If it had been her, the guards would be incapacitated and she would be waiting for me inside. Probably with a dagger in her hands.
I can tell Nicasia is trying her best to look elegant and alluring, rather than annoyed.  But I know her too well. Her impatience may as well be a physical thing, roiling in waves off of her. I wonder how long she’s been waiting here. A while, I hope.
“Ah, Nicasia. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” I can ask this because I am certain she believes the honor of her presence to be a gift wherever she goes.
“Cardan,” she says with a brief, elegant curtsy. A curtsy? She’s certainly trying very hard. “I would prefer if we speak privately.”
I don’t particularly want to invite her into the royal chambers, but I nod and the guards open the doors. I brush past her, quickly taking up the seat where Jude would usually sit. I do not wish to see Nicasia sitting in her place.
Nicasia settles herself in my usual chair, smoothing her skirts around her and folding her hands as if she were sitting to have her portrait painted.  She is wearing a different dress than she did at dinner, and I am certain it’s to a purpose that I refuse to consider. She is certainly lovely, with her delicate features and elegant composure, but I can’t remember what it is about her that I loved before. We are allies — but I know now that she is not to be trusted.  With anything.
“Well?” I prompt.  Her mouth drops open in disbelief for a moment, but she catches herself.  She was clearly expecting something friendlier from me.
“Are we not friends, Cardan? We used to spend time together simply for the pleasure of each other’s company,” she says carefully.
“Then why insist on privacy, if you have nothing of importance to say to me?” I retort. I wish I was less sober for this.
“I had thought that…” she pauses, her lips pursing. She is clearly displeased that I am making her spell things out. To be honest, I am surprised that she waited this long to make a move. Perhaps she had been expecting me to come to her. “I had thought that your request for me to be the ambassador of the Undersea was an indication that you may be reconsidering your refusal of my mother’s… proposal.”
Ah. There it is.
“And am I supposed to just overlook Queen Orlagh’s insults to my kingdom and my rule? And am I also to overlook your participation in her and Balekin’s plans to overthrow and murder me, using my own glamoured mortal seneschal?” I ask coldly, staring her down.
She freezes, her face going pale and her gaze dropping to her hands. She looks a bit like she might be sick.
“I didn’t know,” she whispers. Even if she could lie, I would believe her -- given the stricken look on her face. When her eyes meet mine again, it looks as though she is fighting back tears. “My mother knows that we’re friends, that I care for you. If that truly was a part of her plan, she would not have told me. I would not have allowed it to happen.”
I let out a long breath. I am relieved that she’s a bit less of a duplicitous snake than I had assumed. Betray me with one of our friends? Sure. Be involved in a plot to murder me? Apparently not.
“Good to hear that your treachery has a limit,” I say flatly.
She looks as though I physically struck her. She wears her emotions on her face so plainly, so loudly, that she may as well be shouting.
I miss Jude. Miss trying to read every quirk of her eyebrows and twitch of her lips. A pang of longing shoots through me.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge that unwelcome and unhelpful train of thought.
“So, what now? Just because you didn’t help to orchestrate my attempted murder doesn’t absolve you of whatever part you had in Jude’s capture and, I assume, torture.”
“Torture is a strong word,” Nicasia huffs defensively. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, something she does when she’s discomposed.
“Fine. Neglect at the least. And you can’t tell me that you didn’t use the opportunity to inflict a little cruelty, despite her status as my seneschal. I know you too well for that,” I challenge.
“I don’t know why you care so much. Jude said you only made her your seneschal in return for making you the High King. You two hated each other. But then she also said that…” she trails off, looking away, flushed and embarrassed.
“She said what?” I growl. This ought to be good.
“She said that you kissed her. And she was glamoured, so I know she wasn’t lying.”
A barked laugh escapes me. Leave it to Jude to wield the truth as a weapon while pretending to be glamoured.  
“What’s so funny?” she demands. I wish I still kept a bottle of liquor handy. I am really tired of handling this conversation sober, and I can tell it’s only going to get worse.
“I did. Hate her. And I did kiss her. And I did make her my seneschal because she was responsible for giving me the crown.” That last part is true in word, if not in practice. “What’s funny is that you have the nerve to care about any of this. You gave up your right to care who I kiss or who I hate when you allowed Locke to seduce you.”
She has no response to that, just fidgets in her seat as though it’s suddenly uncomfortable. But she continues looking at me as though she is puzzling something out.
“That’s not all, is it?” she asks.
“Do not expect me to attempt to read your mind, Nicasia. Say what you will or get out,” I say, although my voice comes out with more weariness and less bite than I intend.
“I saw the design for the dress in your chambers. The dress she wore to the coronation. You sent it to her, didn’t you?”
With everything that’s happened between the coronation and now, I had nearly forgotten about that. About my compulsion to dress Jude in the gown I had all but hallucinated on her at Locke’s party. The gown she wore in the dreams I had of her that night. And after.
At least in the dreams where she was wearing a gown.
That’s another unhelpful thought.
“And if I did?” I recover. That’s about as good of a response as I can come up with. I didn’t anticipate her even knowing about that.
“So you didn’t just hate her, then,” she says. It isn’t a question. I feel myself glare at her.
“None of this has anything to do with you, Nicasia,” I say. I rise from my chair and she looks dumbfounded, but I’m not throwing her out just yet. I want to see this conversation through to the end so I don’t have to do this again. I go to a table where there’s a carafe of wine and pour myself a goblet. “Whatever my relationship with Jude may be, she has nothing to do with the end of what we had. That was entirely your own fault. And it’s not like you’ve done much to improve from there. Jude may be a mortal liar, but she wasn’t the one who was unfaithful to me. And she, surprisingly enough, wasn’t the one who shot me with a crossbow.”
Jude did point a crossbow at me, but Nicasia doesn’t need to know about that.
I return to my chair and drink deeply from the goblet, draining it nearly halfway. If she wants some, she can get it herself.
“She said she wouldn’t tell you about that,” Nicasia huffs. I let out a cruel laugh. She crosses her arms over her chest, and I am satisfied to see that she is losing her composure. She is agitated, heat making her face blotchy. Good.
“She lied,” I say with a grin, looking her straight in the face.
“And I’m sure you sorely miss her lying tongue,” she snaps back.
“More than you may realize,” I say dryly. That shuts her up, her mouth hanging open as she contemplates exactly what I mean.
I grin again and take another long swig of my wine. It’s nearly gone already, but it is taking the edge off. I’m certain the side effect is that I will divulge something I don’t intend to, but it’s better than doing without.
“But… but you exiled her,” she finally says.
“I did. But I also intend for her to return in due time. And just because Jude is in the mortal world and you are in the palace of Elfhame as ambassador of the Undersea does not mean that I have any intention of rekindling the relationship that you were responsible for destroying. Nor does it mean I am interested in anything beyond being allies or friends. And I am certainly not interested in taking you as my queen, no matter what Queen Orlagh desires.”
She looks at me now with a combination of despair and fury. Her expressions really are so incredibly loud.
“I would have married you even if you hadn’t become the High King, you know,” she says, her voice coming out a little strained. “That was always what my mother wanted. What she and Balekin had always planned. And I liked that plan, because I did love you.”
“You did a poor job acting as though you did,” I say, voice cold. She laughs, but the sound is devoid of mirth.
“And what? Jude is better? Would she have even bothered with you at all if you weren’t the king, if you didn’t have any power to offer her?”
That strikes a nerve. I don’t think she would have had anything to do with me if it weren’t for the power she stood to gain. But also, I had never given Jude any reason to do anything other than hate me. I refuse to let Nicasia see that's she's hit her mark, though.
“Jude made me the High King. It was her scheme, not mine,” I deflect. Although… perhaps that wasn’t a wise bit of information to offer. There’s no way Nicasia will see all the way through to Jude’s bargain with me, to the control she once had. But it still feels like a dangerous piece of information to have given up. She looks dumbfounded again.
“So now… what? You will welcome her back as your seneschal after killing your brother because you are indebted to her for giving you the crown?” she demands.
“When Jude returns, she will have her place in my court,” I say deliberately. I truly look forward to seeing the look on Nicasia’s face when she realizes that place is as my queen, rather than my seneschal.
We are both silent for a long moment, but all of the tension in the air fizzles to something different. Something quieter. She is looking at her hands as she twists them in her lap.  I think she is working up the nerve to say something else.
“Do you love her?” she asks finally, her eyes dragging up to meet mine.
I struggle to keep my face neutral as my brain tries to supply me with anything I can say that is truth enough to pass. A question, a quip, a deflection, anything.
The wine may have been a bad idea after all.
I sigh, knowing my silence has stretched out long enough to be damning. Nicasia looks equal parts distraught and horrified.
I drain the last of the cursed wine and set the goblet down.
“You’ll be pleased to know that she doesn’t return my feelings, at least,” I mutter. I lean forward and cover my face with my hands, not wanting to see whatever judgment is on her face. She says nothing, so I decide to continue with what I think will distract her enough not to ask too many more questions. “I suppose I have you to thank, partially.  I would have continued on not being able to decide if I wanted her or if I wanted nothing to do with her until she was gone, taken prisoner by your mother and Balekin.”
“But. . . why?" she demands. "She's just a mortal." I look up at her, running my fingers through my hair.
“Why?” I echo. She’s really going to ask me why my feelings are what they are? “You of all people should know that love is not logical -- when I was clearly the superior choice over Locke. Perhaps it is because Jude is clever and cunning and ruthless. Perhaps it is because talking with her always feels like sparring with a partner with whom I am equally matched. Perhaps it is because, even though she is a liar and a keeper of secrets, the only time she ever betrayed my trust, I ended up with a crown and a throne rather than a broken heart.”
Now I’ve really said too much.
Nicasia snaps her mouth shut and shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “But you hated her,” she whispers, clearly incredulous.
“I did, and I didn’t,” I say with a shrug. “I think Jude and I both lead with the worst of ourselves. And because of that, I think she has seen the truth of who I am and has never shied away from it.  I do not believe I can say the same of anyone else. Not even you.”
She stands quickly, and I do the same, blocking her exit.  
“You know I’m not going to let you leave this room until you vow not to tell anything I’ve told you to another living soul, by mouth or by writing or any other means,” I say.
She cannot get to the doors before me. Even if she could, I would simply call the guard and have her detained.  I can see her calculating her options.
“There’s no one I would wish to tell this to, anyway. You have my word,” she says quietly.
I see now that she had maintained a small bit of hope that she has just now lost, leaving her deflated.  That is what prompted her to ask about my feelings for Jude, even though she may not have truly wanted to know. Part of me, the cruel part, is a little satisfied that she is still paying for what she did to me. I nod and step aside to allow her to pass. She gives me a tight lipped smile and sweeps by me, her skirts rustling with each hurried step.
“Nicasia,” I say, facing her again as her hand reaches for the door. She pauses but does not look at me. “I would still like for us not to be enemies. You are free to come and go from Elfhame as you please, but I do wish for you to remain ambassador of the Undersea.”
She is silent for a moment, still refusing to meet my gaze.  She looks more defeated than I have ever seen before.
“I will try to be happy for you, even though I think you’ve made a mistake,” she replies. She then squares her shoulders and straightens her spine, takes a deep breath, and rebuilds her composure before exiting the room. She looks to all the world like the queen she wishes she was.
And nothing at all like my queen.
I take off my heavy jacket and run my fingers through my hair, sighing deeply.
I wonder what Jude is doing -- if she is punishing me by not returning.  I wonder if she is somehow happier in the mortal world, while I miserably await her return. I wonder if she knows she has the upper hand and is just waiting for the pleasure of my surrender.  At this point, I am not above it. I am not above begging her to return.
I sit at my desk and begin to write her another letter.  Perhaps this one will convince her to come home.
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omgrachwrites · 5 years ago
Text
Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Three
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Summary: You knew that  making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil  but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly  woman.
Warnings: fluff, pining, slight denial of feelings, Sirius being adorable
Words: 2205
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part, please let me know what you think and let me whether you want to be tagged! I love you guys so much! xxx
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Chapter Three
Sirius huffed as he looked for his favourite jumper, it was the one that was lined with fake fur on the inside, and it was the warmest item of clothing the he owned and the weather outside told him that he would need it today. He threw the rest of his clothes that he hadn’t bothered to unpack from his suitcase and he still couldn’t find it. Grumbling swear words beneath his breath, he picked up another that would do nothing to protect himself against the cold weather and he threw it over his head.
The dormitory door opened with a bang, startling Sirius which caused him to get stuck in his own jumper, “Sirius,” a girl’s voice called out, it sounded angry. Sirius fought to free himself, and when he had, he found himself face to face with Lily. Her arms were folded and she was looking at him with narrowed eyes, her eyes were like two orbs of blazing green fire.
“What are you up to? Y/N told me that you were going to be helping her with her Quidditch performance which I’m happy about. But, since when have you done something nice for someone else and not expected anything in return?”
Sirius smirked, his handsome features enhancing as he did so, “oh, come on Lily!” he slung an arm around her shoulder which she immediately pushed off, “she’s my friend, and I know just how important this whole thing is to her. And, besides, I’d be extremely proud if she managed to kick Slytherin’s arse.”
His words did nothing to quell the angry look on Lily’s face, “yeah, well she’s my best friend, so you’re going to be on your best behaviour, otherwise…. I’ll hex you,” she threatened, pulling out her wand to show him that she meant business, “I’ve seen the way that you’ve been looking at her lately.”
Sirius chuckled, he admired the love that Lily had for Y/N but he didn’t know what Lily was talking about, he hadn’t been looking at Y/N any differently, “I’ll be good ma’am,” he gave a lazy salute as he shoved his broomstick beneath his arm, “c’mon. Let’s go,” he smiled and the two of them walked down the stone spiral staircase and into the common room.
Y/N was waiting for him by the portrait hole, her broomstick tucked underneath her arm.
“Have any of you guys seen my jumper, the green one?” he asked, Remus and James shook their heads and shrugged in response. Whereas, Peter smirked and looked over at Y/N.
Sirius’ grey eyes followed suit, it was the first time today that he’d actually looked at her. Her hair was loose against her shoulders; Sirius thought that it looked really pretty. Sirius also noticed that she was wearing a green jumper and she was smirking, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you Y/N?” he grinned and the pretty girl nodded.
“Okay, you caught me,” she said sarcastically, “it’s just so warm and comfy, it was really your fault for leaving it on the back of the armchair,” she sighed, “I suppose that you’ll be wanting it back now?”
“Oh, not at all, it looks so much better on you,” he winked, “and it brings out your eyes so perfectly Y/N,” he moved a strand of hair away from her face, so that he could see her eyes better. He cleared his throat and moved away from her when he realised what he was doing, in front of everyone, “come on, let’s get down to breakfast,” he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling and they both climbed out of the portrait hole.
“Breakfast? Are you mad?” Y/N scoffed with a giggle, we can’t eat and then ride brooms, it wouldn’t be pretty.”
Sirius pouted his belly rumbling as he did so. No breakfast? That was pretty much the worst news that he’d heard all year, “you know I get pretty cranky without my food.”
Y/N smiled at him, her eyes gleaming, “well, you know how much I love breakfast food too, but I’m sure that we can both survive without it.”
Sirius grumbled, feeling annoyed as they walked right past the Great Hall, away from all those amazing smells, “you’re lucky you’re cute, Y/L/N,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“You know Sirius; I really wish that I could say the same thing about you.”
Sirius gasped dramatically as he clutched his heart in mock heart, “you wound me so, pretty one.”
Y/N giggled and a comfortable silence fell over them as they crossed the cold grounds to reach the paddock where they were going to be training. It was like someone had cast a spell, for when they reached the paddock, Y/N almost immediately shied away from him, losing her usual snarky attitude. She glanced at him, before looking ahead into the dark trees that held a multitude of dangerous and magical creatures.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Sirius frowned as he brushed his hand up against hers.
“I’m fine, it’s just,” she hesitated and sighed, “what if I make a fool of myself? What if I can’t do it?”
Sirius chewed his lip; she needed to have more confidence in herself because Sirius had confidence in her, “listen to me, Y/N. I want you to be proud of yourself, because I am, I’m proud of you. I want you to believe that you’re good enough, because you are,” he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair, chuckling nervously as Y/N beamed.
“Thank you Sirius, you’re actually really sweet when no one else is around. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she giggled, “so where do we start?” she asked and Sirius smiled at her, they had better start with the basics.
“Summon your broom and mount it.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms, an expression of impatience flitted across her face, “that’s beginner’s stuff; I can do that, no problem.”
“Prove it,” he shot back with a smirk on his face, he knew that she couldn’t resist showing off.
“Fine,” she sighed before she summoned her broom and mounted it perfectly.
“Well done,” he smirked, causing Y/N to glare at him before he reached into his robes and pulled a little white ball from his pocket, “I thought that we could enchant this and use it as a snitch. Remus gave it to me; it’s called a ping pong ball. Apparently, muggles use it to play some sort of drinking game,” he smiled, the foreign word rolling off his tongue.
The ball was extremely light weight and he tapped it with his wand, muttering an enchantment to make it hover. It took off through the trees which caused Y/N to hurtle after it, her hair streaming out behind her. Sirius smiled and got on his own broom, hovering above the forest as he watched her.
She wasn’t particularly fast but that was to be expected, she hadn’t played in five years. All she needed to do was to admit how free she felt while she was flying, once she’d admitted that then she’d be able to play Quidditch in front of the whole school.
Y/N zoomed back over with the ping pong ball after a little while, her eyes were narrowed and Sirius could see challenge and determination glistening in them. Sirius gave her some tips that would help boost her confidence before he re enchanted the ball. This time, he made it go towards the castle, making it more of a challenge for Y/N. Y/N climbed up towards the cloudy grey sky until she was just a speck in the distance. The young man chuckled as she swerved and performed an impressive loop to avoid an oncoming turret.
They practised until the early afternoon and when Y/N was too tired to carry on, she beamed as she ran up towards him and she threw her arms around him, knocking the wind out of him. Sirius recovered quickly, chuckling as he lifted her off the grass, spinning her around in a circle.
“Thank you so much,” she giggled, her voice was muffled against the material of his jumper.
“You’re welcome,” he shot her a boyish grin as he set her back down on the ground, “I was thinking, it would be a smart idea if we were study buddies. James is great, but he distracts me too much. I would really like to be within a chance of graduating this year,” he was telling the truth; he really did want to graduate. But, he also wanted to spend more time with Y/N, she had become more fun over the summer, it seemed.
“Fine,” Y/N agreed which surprised Sirius, “I suppose that I do owe you one, don’t I?”
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The rain battered the library windows, thunder cracked and lightning struck which caused you to jump every now and then. You sighed as you left scarlet ink splotches all over the rough surface of your parchment. You were working on your Defence against the Dark Arts essay; Sirius was late for your study session. You had been fool enough to believe that he actually wanted to get serious. People like him could never be serious; it wasn’t one of their capabilities.
Moments later, the boy in question came walking into the library, his wet shoes squeaking on the stone floor. You glanced up and forced back peals of laughter as you saw that he was dripping wet. Water droplets splashed from the ends of his long hair, he still looked so good. Your eyes followed the drops of water as they slid down his neck and disappeared beneath his collar. The muddy footprints that he left in his wake were enough to give Filch a heart attack.
“I’m really sorry that I’m late, sweets,” he shot you a dimpled smile, “the boys and I were setting up another one of our amazing pranks,” he chuckled and he conjured a bouquet of flowers from the end of his wand, “for you,” he offered them to you.
You looked at the beautiful flowers and then back at him, you supposed that this worked on every other girl but it wasn’t going to work on you. You had more self-respect for yourself, “I have hay fever,” you lied, “and I don’t care that you’re late, as long as you weren’t with a girl, we have a deal remember?” it was true, to you it didn’t make much of a difference whether he was there or not.
Sirius smirked, his grey eyes were soft, “are you sure that you have hay fever?”
You rolled your eyes and all but snatched the flowers from him. At your touch, they transformed into a hoard of multi-coloured butterflies, one of them kissed your nose before they fluttered out of the window. It really was beautiful magic. Sirius threw himself into the chair next to you and smirked proudly.
“I bet you do that with all the girls,” you scoffed and Sirius’ smirk widened as he rested his chin on his hand, gazing at you.
“Now that is just very untrue. And, hey, even if I did do that trick with other girls, it wouldn’t matter because you’re not like other girls, are you?”
You flushed at his words, unsure whether to take it as a compliment or not, “just get down to work; we’re going to study the theory of the patronus charm. Next time, we’ll be doing the practical side of it.”
Sirius smiled and nodded, pulling the parchment towards him, “did you really not care that I was late?” he pouted.
You shook your head, not looking up from your parchment, “nope, it makes no difference to me whether you were here or not.”
“You suck, Y/L/N.”
“You wish,” you looked up at the good looking boy and winked which caused him to flush a bright scarlet colour and he shut up after that. That was the trick with Sirius; you had to beat him at his own game.
There was silence for a good ten minutes, the only sounds were quills scratching on the parchment and birds were singing just outside the window, it was obvious that the skies were clearing up. You felt a poke on your arm and you knew that it was obviously Sirius; you sighed and ignored the annoying Gryffindor next to you. A couple more minutes went by and you felt another poke. Every couple of minutes he poked you, until you couldn’t take it anymore, maybe he didn’t want to study but you did, you wanted to graduate.
“Would you stop poking me? Merlin, you’re so bloody annoying!” Sirius chuckled at your angry reaction.
“I was just going to say, next time we should study in the boathouse. I don’t like being under the beady eye of Madam Pince.”
“We can, if you’re good from here on out,” you giggled.
“I’ll always be good for you, Y/N,” he winked.
You rolled your eyes with a smile as you got back to writing your essay, hoping that he would do the same. However, out of the corner of your eye you could see him looking at you for a moment, you wished that he would look away.
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@approved-by-dentists​ @thefuturelawyer​ @a-miserable-hufflepunk​ @firelordmillie​ @seriouslysiriuss​ @sleep-i-ness​ @play-morezeppelin​ @pregnant-piggy​ @
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fairylightsandchai · 5 years ago
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The Internship - Part 2
A/N: Hello, again! Just popping in again to say that I know I don’t usually post fanfic here, but I really wanted to take part in @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​‘s Pre-Code Challenge! Just ignore this if you don’t follow me for fanfiction. :) Also, I’ll be adding tags in a reblog. 
Read Part One Here!
As a side note, I’ve made a new blog since writing this dedicated to fanfic. If you wanna check it out, click here!
Pairings:  Dark!Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader
Words: >10K
Summary:  You are a student in the former-Captain America’s American History class, and you soon notice that Professor Rogers has been paying more than a professional amount of attention to you. But when he approaches you with an internship opportunity that’s too good to be true, how can you say no?
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(A/N: This fic contains non-con elements, stalking, and manipulation, and this part will inclue rape, breeding kink, and kidnapping. It is also inspired by The Wild Party, a film from 1929. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.)
You let out a curse as your hand fumbled around inside of your purse; you professor would be there any second to pick you up, and your phone was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn that you’d set it down on your nightstand to charge, but it hadn’t been there that morning, and after spending the better part of an hour looking for it, you were beginning to give up hope.
           A knock sounded at your door and you swore again, finally setting your purse down next to your packed suitcase and hurrying to answer it. On its other side stood Steve, a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He was dressed much more casually than you’d ever seen him before, wearing a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket.
           Staring between him and the bundle of daisies, you blinked once, twice before finally finding your voice again.
           “Steve! I… Are those for me?” you asked, and he let out a soft laugh.
           “Nah, they’re for the other girl who lives here,” he joked.
           “I’m sure she’s very grateful,” you managed, taking the bouquet from him and giving it a sniff. “What’s the occasion?”
           “Well,” he began, following you into your apartment as you went to locate a vase, “I know that you had your reservations about joining me, and I wanted to get you a little something for agreeing to the internship.”
           “Oh.” You finally found an old pitcher that you’d never before used and started filling it with water, watching Steve out of the corner of your eye. He seemed right at home, browsing your book collection with his hands in his pockets as he skimmed the titles. “Well thank you! They’re beautiful.”
           After setting the daisies into the water, you turned to face your professor.
           “So… Are you ready to head out?” you asked, and he quickly turned his attention back to you.
           “Sure am.”
           Before you could protest, he walked over to your suitcase and picked it up, not even batting an eye at how heavy it was. You scurried over to pick your purse up and follow him out of your apartment.
           “I might need to stop at a Best Buy on the way,” you told him as you locked the door. “I can’t seem to find my phone…”
           “You can’t go without it for a week?”
           “I mean… I can, but I would rather not have to,” you explained. “My mom might start to worry if I don’t keep in touch.”
           “Well how about you use my phone? I would hate for your family to be concerned.”
           You followed him to his car, surprised at how sleek and modern it looked; it had to be worth more than a couple years of your rent.
           “Are you sure? It won’t be too much of a bother?” you asked, moving to open the passenger door. Steve’s hand shot out faster than yours, though, opening it for you with a smile.
           “It would be no trouble at all, (Y/N),” he assured you.
           With a quiet “thank you”, you slid into your seat, flinching when Steve closed the door behind you. As you sank into the dark leather beneath you, you wondered if it was too late to turn back. You couldn’t get that meeting in his office out of your head; the way his voice had hardened, the way his face had turned stormy when you hadn’t thanked him initially, it still sent shivers down your spine. Steve had spent years as America’s ‘golden boy’, but you couldn’t shake the suspicion that there could be a darker side of him just beneath the surface.
           You jolted in your seat when you heard his door open, and you watched as he climbed into the driver’s side, his weight making the car shift as he settled in.
           After flashing a small smile your way, he pressed a button and the car started, its engine purring quietly. You were both silent as you made your way to the interstate, your apartment fading into the distance in the rear-view mirror. It was only after the car was on the highway that Steve glanced your way again.
           “You can put on the radio, if you’d like. We have a good hour of driving ahead of us, and that’s if traffic isn’t too crazy.”
           You sighed; traffic in the city was always crazy.
           You fiddled with the radio, eventually finding a station that you liked and turning it down to a low volume, just wanting some background noise.
           “Hey, I actually know this song,” Steve smiled. “Doesn’t happen too often these days; most of the music I listen to is on the records I have at home.”
           You smiled a little at that; some of the things he said really made him sound like a grandpa.
           “I like the oldies, too,” you told him, head turning to look out your window. “Do you have a favorite band?”
           Steve thought about it for a second, his thumbs tapping absentmindedly against the steering wheel.
           “Well… You’ve probably never heard of them, but I really liked The Ink Spots back in the day. Oh, and Frank Sinatra is pretty hard to beat.”
           “I happen to enjoy Sinatra myself,” you said. “I don’t know a lot of his music by name, but he has a really distinct voice.”
           “That’s true,” Steve smiled. “…You know, you have a really distinct voice, too.”
           Well, that came out of nowhere. You chuckled a little, feeling your cheeks heat up.
           “I…don’t think so,” you tried to dismiss him.
           “No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I really like your speaking voice; I imagine you’re a nice singer, too.”
           “You are… so wrong,” you informed him. “My singing voice sounds like a cat being boiled.”
           He threw his head back, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laugh.
           “And just how do you know what that sounds like?” he asked you, glancing away from the road to raise an eyebrow at you.
           You just shrugged, your smile fading slowly as you looked down at your lap.
           “Why do you do that?” you heard yourself saying.
           “Do what?”
           “Compliment me so much,” you clarified, not daring to look his way. “You always have something nice to say about me. Why?”
           It took Steve a few moments to answer, evidently pondering over his words.
           “Well,” he finally said, “I suppose I’m just used to saying what’s on my mind. Everything I’ve told you has been true, you know.”
           You felt something in your chest flutter, and you chewed on your lip as you cranked the radio louder. It wasn’t necessarily the words he’d spoken just now that unsettled you; no, it was the way he’d said them: softly, earnestly, in a tone that you don’t just use with a student or a friend. You tried to push that thought away, tried to write it off as ridiculous; he was Captain America. Why and how would he ever develop feelings for someone like you?
           The majority of the car ride passed in silence, and you watched the sun sink lower into the sky. He’d picked you up in the middle of the afternoon, and as the winter dragged on, the days were getting shorter and shorter. So when you finally made it into Brooklyn, the sky was awash in light pinks and oranges; the sun would be going down in about two hours.
           “So, I was thinking,” Steve finally spoke up, setting his right hand on the gear shift, “that we could stop for an early dinner before heading to our hotel room. I know a great pizza place close by.”
           His pinky was just barely resting against your thigh as he spoke, and even that tiny point of contact was enough to make you uncomfortable. You pressed your thighs together, putting some distance between your leg and his hand, and you thought that you saw his jaw clench at the motion.
           “U-um,” you finally spoke up, realizing he was still waiting for an answer, “yeah, that sounds good. I could go for some pizza.”
           With a nod of his head, he turned his turn signal on, turning down the next road. In no time, he’d parked the car in a parking garage and led you out onto a street. When you reached a brick building with a sign that said Lucali on it, he held open the door for you, waving you in before him.
           The smell of Italian food immediately washed over you, and you almost let out a moan as you deeply inhaled. A young, sweet-looking hostess walked to the two of you instantly, doing a double take when she saw the man you were with.
           Grabbing a few menus, she, for her credit, quickly got over her moment of being star-struck.
           “Good evening; table for two?”
           “That’d be great,” Steve said, giving her one of his trademark smiles. “We would like one in the back, if any are available.”
           “O-of course, Mr. Rogers,” she assured him, leading you both into a more secluded area. Jazz music was playing over the sound system, and as you sank into the booth you were led to, you noticed that every table had a small succulent on its surface.
           “Can I get you guys started with something to drink?” the nice girl asked, and you were about to say that you’d just take water when Steve interrupted you.
           “We’ll have a bottle of the house red blend,” he told her.
           “Oh, no,” you tried to say, “I don’t really want any wine-“
           The look Steve gave you stopped you dead in your tracks, and you were quickly taking back your words for a reason you couldn’t quite name.
           “U-um, that is, could I have a water with that?” you corrected yourself. Steve smirked, never taking his eyes off of you as the hostess hurried away.
           You squirmed in your chair, not daring to make eye contact with the man in front of you until he spoke your name softly.
           “Um… Yes?”
           “You know, I’d really like it if you were able to relax,” he said softly. “Sip some wine with me; try not to be so tense. Let yourself enjoy the evening.”
           Before you could reply, the hostess was back with your drinks, and you immediately chugged half of the glass of wine she’d poured for you – you would welcome anything that could take the edge off, at this point.
           “So,” Steve said, not touching his own glass, “I have a whole itinerary planned out for tomorrow. I thought we could start out by going to the building I grew up in; I was sure that they’d have tore it down by now, but apparently it’s still an apartment complex.”
           “We could even take some pictures,” you added, finishing off your glass. “They might be a nice inclusion to the chapter.”
           “That’s a great idea,” he smiled. “So, we’ll check it out and take some photos, and then we’ll go to Coney Island; Bucky and I used to go there all the time. Once, he made me ride this rollercoaster there until I got sick.” Steve laughed fondly at the memory. “But I got him back the next time and made him go on the tilt-a-whirl until he passed out.”
           You chuckled, feeling the wine start to tingle pleasantly through your veins.
           “Bucky? That was your best friend, right? The…the winter soldier?”
           Steve’s smile grew sad at the mention of that title, but he nodded his head, reaching over to your glass of water and taking a sip casually. If it weren’t for the wine, you were sure you’d have found that odd, but you didn’t even think twice about it.
           “He doesn’t like to be called that anymore,” he corrected you. “But he was known by that name once.”
           You were both silent as he poured you another glass, and you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before promptly sipping on it. The air between you felt awkward all of a sudden, and you regretted bringing up the tender subject.
           “So,” you spoke up, “what else is on your itinerary?”
           “Well…” Steve perked up, “I thought that we could head over to Central Park after Coney Island; it’s all the way in Manhattan, but I used to go there and draw when I was a kid.”
           “You like to draw?”
           “I sure do. It’s one of the things that I’ve been good at since before the serum.”
           “I’m sure that’s not true,” you assured him.
           “Oh, believe me, it is,” he grinned, and there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “Other than getting in way over my head. I’ve always done that, too.”
           When the waitress came by your table, Steve ordered for the both of you, but you didn’t mind; he happened to order your favorite type of pizza, and you smiled at the coincidence. The wine was starting to make your head buzz, but you welcomed it over the constant anxiety you seemed to be facing these days.
           Your pizza came out surprisingly quick, right in the middle of a story you were telling Steve about your childhood. He was watching you so intently, his chin resting on his palm and his eyes sparkling with amusement. First one, then two more glasses of wine had been drunk (by only one of the people at your table), and when the bottle went empty he slid his still-full glass over for you to finish.
           The both of you were completely silent as you ate the pizza; it seemed that you both were hungry. You ate your fill before sitting back and watching Steve ate the majority of the meal as you sipped your wine; you’d never seen anybody eat that much pizza in one setting, but then again, you’d never dined with a super soldier before.
           The sun outside had completely disappeared by the time the two of you were finished, an entire bottle of wine sloshing in your belly as you stumbled out of the restaurant.
           “Woah there,” Steve chuckled, holding his arm out for you to support yourself on. “You ok?”
           “’M great,” you waved him off. “Just drank a little more than I was expecting to. You should’a stopped me at my second glass.”
           All Steve replied with was a deep chuckle, leading you back to the car and helping you into your seat. You blushed as he buckled your seatbelt for you, feeling like a child.
           “I can do it myself,” you tried to protest, but he batted your hands away when you reached for him.
           “I know you can. But I want to help you.”
           You huffed but made no attempt to further protest, settling in against the cushy seat as he started to drive you to the hotel. Your eyelids were slowly starting to feel heavier, and you jolted when you suddenly felt a hand descend on your shoulder.
           “Hey, doll,” Steve was saying, “We’re here. Wake up.”
           You blinked sluggishly; you hadn’t meant to drift off. Letting out a soft grunt, you opened your door and stood up on stiff legs. Your teacher smiled over at you as he unloaded your suitcases, handling all of the bags as he led you out of the parking garage and into one of the fanciest hotel lobbies you’d ever seen.
           Your shoes clicked against the marble flooring as you walked with Steve to the receptionist’s desk. The man behind the counter gave your professor a wide smile, not even sparing you a glance as he greeted the soldier.
           “Welcome, Mr. Rogers,” he grinned. “We are honored to have you staying with us, sir.”
           “Thank you,” he replied. “We have a reservation under-“
           “Rogers, yes. We have your room all set up.” The man handed Steve a keycard, and you wondered if he would start vibrating with how excited he was at having such a famous guest. “Please, do let us know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant.”
           “I sure will; have a good evening.”
           With that, Steve gestured for you to walk into the nearby elevator before him, pressing the button for the 11th floor.
           “I was wondering if that guy was gonna kiss you,” you joked, and he threw his head back as he laughed.
           “I…am very glad he didn’t,” he sighed. “Wouldn’t wanna make you jealous.”
           Your eyes widened, but before you could say anything, the elevator dinged open and Steve was making a beeline down the hallway. You rushed to follow him to a door marked “1110”, and the first thought you had after he unlocked the door and led you inside was…there’s only one bed. The room was gorgeous, of course. Soft carpet flooring, white linens, dark wood furniture, and you passed a spacious, luxurious bathroom as you stepped further into the room.
           “Um… Steve?”
           He turned to you as he set your bags on the dresser, eyebrows raised.
           “Yeah?”
           “There, um… There’s only one bed.”
           “Oh,” he said, looking around at the bed as if only just then noticing it, “Yeah. All of the rooms with two were taken.”
           “…Um… Alright, then,” you said, starting to sober up from the wine.
           Walking over to the bed, you pulled off one of the pillows and dropped it to the floor, gripping the comforter and moving to pull it off of the mattress.
           “What are you doing?”
           You met Steve’s eyes, halting in your movements.
           “I’m making myself a bed on the floor.”
           “The floor?”
           You nodded, wondering why it was so surprising.
           “Yeah, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you said. “You paid for the room, so you deserve the bed.”
           “…Why don’t we just share it?”
           You felt your cheeks heat up at his question, feeling like a deer in headlights as he stared at you.
           “U-um, well… It’s just that you, um… you’re my teacher,” you explained, feeling dumb as you said so. “Wouldn’t that be…inappropriate?”
           “Oh, c’mon, doll,” Steve sighed, setting his hands on his hips. “We’re both adults. You don’t need to be so immature about this.”
           Your eyes were round, and your mouth hung open, not knowing what to say to that. Your chest tightened at the feeling of disappointment, for some reason feeling sick at the thought of Steve thinking of you as ‘immature’.
           “I…  I’m sorry,” you stuttered, voice small. “I’m just…going to put my pajamas on.”
           You opened your suitcase hurriedly and snatched the first tank top and pajama pants you saw before rushing into the bathroom, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You took your time dressing, not wanting to venture back out into the bedroom to face him again; why did he bother you so much? Why did you care about what he thought?
           Letting out a deep sigh, you looked at yourself in the mirror, heart sinking when you saw your shirt. Or, rather, what was showing straight through your shirt. Your nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of your white tank top, and for a second you pondered putting on your bra again. But it was stark black, sure to show through even more blatantly than your nipples.
           Staring up at the ceiling, you briefly wondered if there was some higher power out there who just liked watching you squirm, scattering awkward, embarrassing moments throughout your life like a child throwing confetti.
           Whatever, you decided, gathering up your dirty clothes and holding them against your chest. Steve thought you were immature, anyways. He probably wouldn’t spare your nipples a second glance, right?
           …Right?
           Summoning your courage, you opened the door and walked out, not once glancing over at your teacher as you headed to your suitcase. Not even when you heard him sigh and sit up straighter on the bed.
           “Doll, I didn’t mean to be mean earlier,” he was saying as you shoved the bundle in your hands into the bag. “You’re very mature for your age, and I-“
           You turned around, mouth open to speak, but you stopped when Steve’s words were cut off by a deep inhale. You glanced up shyly, just in time to see his eyes fly up from your chest to your face, his eyes a bit wide as he tried to keep his gaze fixed on yours.
           For the first time since walking back into the bedroom, you realized that he was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, his muscles on full display as he lounged against the headboard. You hoped he didn’t see how your thighs clenched together at the sight, but his eyes caught every movement you made as you stood before him.
           “I…” he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for calling you immature earlier.”
           You nodded, tearing your eyes away from his pectorals as you padded over to your side of the bed. Not daring to make any eye contact, you lifted the sheets, snuggling down into them and turning onto your side. You were faced away from him as you spoke next.
           “It’s ok,” you said. “I think I’m going to go to bed now.”
           “Alright, doll,” Steve murmured. “Goodnight.”
           A few moments later, you felt his weight leave the bed as he got up to turn off all the lights. Once the room was completely dark, you felt the bed dip again, and you curled up into a ball to try and take up as little space as possible.
           For a long while, you could only hear your own breathing, and one by one your muscles were beginning to relax. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, though, you heard sheets sliding against skin, and then a pair of impossibly strong arms were wrapping themselves around you.
           Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second you froze. Your heart was pounding, and you felt Steve’s hot breath against the back of your neck. Wondering if he was just latching onto you in his sleep, you tried scooting away, wriggling in his iron-like grip. But despite your best efforts, he wouldn’t budge.
           “Steve,” you whispered, “can you-“
           “Stop,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling into the side of your neck. “Just be still.”
           Your eyes widened, and you felt a rising tide of panic swell in your chest. Once more, you tried to distance yourself from him, reaching back behind you to try and push against his chest, but he only tightened his grip on you, squeezing you until it was beginning to grow harder to breathe.
           “Stay. Still,” he growled, giving you one hard shake.
           You whimpered at his tone, too shocked to say anything else. Limply, you let your hands fall back to your side, feeling the fight leave your body like water going down a drain.
           “Good girl.”
           Letting out shaky breaths, you forced your eyes to close and willed your breathing to slow down. Despite your discomfort, your exhaustion was getting the best of you, and your eyelids were once more growing heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake you, and in the last moments before it completely won you over, you realized how warm Steve was, how nice it felt to be in someone’s arms. In any other situation, you could see yourself enjoying this.
           But tonight was different. Tonight, you were trapped, and as nice as your body felt, your mind was at war with itself as you finally succumbed to sleep.
­­­­­­­­__________
           You woke up impossibly warm. There was a comforting weight on top of you, and the pillow beneath your head was so soft, providing just the right amount of support. It was so unlike your own bed back home, filled with lumps and-
           Your breath caught in your throat as the events of the night before came flooding back to you. Your eyes flew open, falling to the blonde head currently resting against your chest – Steve. He seemed to be asleep, his arm wrapped around your stomach and his lips slightly parted. From this angle you could see how long his eyelashes were, and for a brief moment you felt a flutter of jealousy.
           But that feeling soon left when he took in a deep breath through his nose, his spine stretching and his arm flexing against you. You felt his thumb lazily trace circles against your side as he let out a yawn.
           “Good morning,” he sighed, eyes still closed.
           You gulped, feeling that familiar spike of fear inside you.
           “Good m-morning,” you whispered back. You made to swing your legs over the side of the bed, but his arm only tightened in its grip.
           Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up at you.
           “Where are you going,” he asked, voice suddenly devoid of all sleepiness.
           “Just to the bathroom,” you murmured, and thankfully, he let you go, rolling onto his back to allow you to stand up.
           You felt his eyes on you the entire time it took for you to cross the room, and you let out a sigh of relief once there was a door separating you. A door which, you knew, he could easily put his fist through if he wanted; you’d always been aware of his strength, but it hadn’t seemed real to you until you’d felt his arms caging you in against him.
           As you went about your business, you belatedly came to the realization that there was no explaining his actions anymore. You could no longer shake away the feelings of unease Steve arose within you; you could no longer call yourself ridiculous for not feeling safe with Captain America, of all people. As you washed your face and considered your countenance in the mirror, you felt your world came to a screeching halt as you accepted the fact that had been right in front of you the entire time.
           Steve wanted you.
           After gathering up your courage, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Steve already up and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He gave you a soft smile when your eyes met, but now you could see the steel behind it.
           “I figured we could just eat breakfast here,” he told you, using such a nonchalant tone that for a second you forgot entirely about last night. “They have a buffet downstairs. After that we can head to my old stompin’ grounds and take some pictures.”
           “Th-that sounds good,” you assured him, cautiously walking over to your suitcase. “Is it ok if I take a shower first?”
           “Of course it is. You want me to get out of your hair, leave you with the room to yourself? You can just come downstairs and meet me in the dining hall when you’re all set.”
           “Oh.” You blinked in surprise. “Um, yeah, that would be great.”
           Steve gave you another warm little smile, setting his hand on your shoulder as he walked past you.
           “I’ll be waiting for you.”
           You watched him leave, waiting to hear the door click completely shut before grabbing everything you needed from your suitcase and heading back into the bathroom. You took your time in the shower, wondering what exactly you should do about all of this. You couldn’t spend an entire week with Steve, not if he continued acting so…weird around you.
           As you applied your makeup and dried your hair, you reasoned that, yes, Steve definitely had…some kind of feelings for you. Maybe it was a crush; maybe it was something more. Or maybe he just wanted to get in your pants. Either way, you had to tell him that his feelings weren’t returned, that you wanted to end the trip early. He could find another intern to finish out the week.
           For now, you decided, you would do what he wanted for today; you would go with him to his old house and take notes; you would go to Coney Island with him. But as soon as he mentioned going back to the hotel, you would lay it all out for him and get an Uber back to your apartment.
           Feeling determined, you grabbed your purse and headed down to the ground floor, almost getting lost in the vast hotel several times before you were able to locate the dining hall. Upon entering the large room, you saw Steve sitting at a table, tapping away at his phone with an already-empty plate. When he looked up at saw you, though, he hurriedly shoved the phone into his pocket and gave you a smile.
           “You look great,” he said as you passed him on the way to the buffet.
           All you could manage was a weak smile for him as you went about assembling a plate for yourself, even though you really didn’t have an appetite. You settled on some fruit salad and a muffin, grabbing a cup of orange juice as you went back to the table.
           “That’s all you’re gonna eat?” Steve asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. You put on a false smile and nodded as you picked at your food.
           “I’m not really hungry this morning.”
           He didn’t offer any protest as you ate, and as soon as you were done he ushered you out into the parking garage. The car ride to his old home was mostly silent, leaving you to watch the streets of Brooklyn go by.
           “This town has really changed,” Steve eventually sighed. “It’s always weird coming back here.”
           You were quiet for a few moments, thinking about what to say. He’d sounded strangely…sad.
           “You don’t think it’s changed for the best?” you finally spoke.
           “Well… I dunno. Yes and no, I think. Because modern technology is great; there’s no disputing the accomplishments we’ve made with it. But this city used to be…smaller. And not just in size; it used to be that each street had its own flavor, its own feel to it. Now, everything is so commercialized that it doesn’t even seem real anymore.”
           “…I’m sorry, Steve,” you muttered, feeling genuine sympathy for him despite how he’d made you feel. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.”
           Steve nodded, parallel parking the car onto the side of the road.
           “I wouldn’t want you to, doll. The things I’ve seen sure can change a person.”
           With that, he hopped out of the car, jogging around to open your door for you. As you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you saw a three-story brick building right in front of you. The first floor was dedicated to a Chinese restaurant and, beside it, a used bookstore, but it appeared that the top two floors were used for housing.
           “That window,” Steve said, leaning closer to point it out to you, “used to be in my bedroom. And the downstairs was a clothing store back then. My mom was a tailor there when I was little, before she became a nurse.”
           He led you around the building into an alleyway, a melancholy smile on his face. The alley was not unlike any other you’d seen; trash was strewn about and trashcans were lined up against the far wall. You heard music drifting out of an open window somewhere above you, though, and some of the windows had flower boxes with overflowing ivy inside of them. Steve paused at the foot of an old stairway made of iron, resting one of his feet on the bottom step and rubbing his hand up and down its rail.
           “I used to climb these stairs every day,” he said wistfully. “And me and Bucky would play in the alleyway; I could always beat him at jacks.”
           You gave him a small smile, walking closer to him.
           “Can I borrow your phone?” you asked. “For the pictures.”
           “Oh, right.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a StarkPhone, handing it to you. He made to walk away from the steps, but you held one of your hands out.
           “No, stay there,” you instructed. “Look up at your old apartment, and uh…act natural.”
           He chuckled, moving back to his position next to the stairwell.
           “Whatever you say, Miss Photographer.”
           You snapped a few photos from different angles, liking especially one where he had his back to the camera, his profile visible as he looked up at his old front door. You quickly set a black-and-white filter over it before handing him back the device.
           “I think those all look good,” you said. “Tell me what you think.”
           Steve flipped through the photos, lingering on the one you’d made black and white.
           “These are great,” he praised you. “But they’d look much better with you in them with me.”
           He gave you a wink as he tucked the phone back into his pocket, gesturing for you to follow him back to the car before you had the chance to say anything more.
           “C’mon, it’s been decades since I’ve gone to Coney Island. I wanna see how different it is these days.”
           The rest of the day was strangely…pleasant, in spite of being with a man you knew to have some kind of strange fascination with you. Going to Coney Island with Steve kind of made you feel like a kid again. He wouldn’t go on any of the rides, but he did play some of the carnival games with you. It was his idea.
           “C’mon, we can’t come here and not have at least a little bit of fun,” he’d cajoled. You’d given in, following him to the ring toss stall.
           After that, you began to loosen up a little bit. The games were fun, despite how rigged they clearly were. Steve, though, was unsurprisingly amazing at them; he’d even broken the Strong Man game. When he’d brought the hammer down onto the button, not only did the bell ring, but it cracked in half. He’d grinned and picked a huge teddy bear off of the rack, handing it to you proudly, and you hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh and accept it with a smile.
           After stopping to get a hot dog (or three hot dogs for Steve), you’d piled back into his car, barely able to fit the bear into the backseat. On the ride to Central Park, you skimmed through Steve’s phone, picking out your favorite of the photos you’d taken at the amusement park. You laughed and showed him the one you’d taken just after he broke the game; in the picture his eyes were wide as he looked back at you sheepishly.
           When you got to the park and managed to find a parking space close by, you sensed a distinct shift in Steve’s mood. As you got out and let him guide you to the spot in the park he used to visit as a child, you felt his eyes on you constantly, and your small talk puttered out into dead silence. You felt the back of your neck prickle with discomfort as you noticed the path you were walking on becoming less and less crowded, leaving you alone with the super soldier.
           You had the feeling that something bad was about to happen.
           Eventually, the two of you came to a shady part of the path where the tree branches hung low, shielding the asphalt underfoot from sunlight. There was a small, old-looking bridge in front of you, and Steve paused when the two of you were standing overtop of it.
           “Why are we stopping?” you asked, turning to him. “Is this the place?”
           Steve didn’t answer, looking down at his hands where they rested against the bridge. You felt that familiar sense of anxiety rising up inside of you, and you fidgeted as you watched him carefully.
           “You know, I’ve thought about this moment for a while, now,” he finally said, “But hell, I’m still nervous.” He gave you a sheepish smile, but it did nothing to make you feel better. “I guess you just have that effect on me.”
           You gulped, clenching your fists at your sides.
           “Steve, what…what are you talking about?”
           “I think you know, doll.” He stepped closer to you, his chest almost touching yours. “I think you’ve known for a while.
           “You must know that I’m crazy about you by now.”
           You looked down, not able to meet his eyes, but his hand went under your chin and guided your face back up towards him.
           “Hey, look at me, baby. I-“
           “No, please don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Steve, we can’t-“
           “I love you.”
           Your heart sank upon hearing those words, and despite how he’d treated you up to this point, it broke your heart to see how hopeful his expression was.
           “Steve, I…” You paused, and he eagerly nodded, hoping to hear something you knew you couldn’t say. “We can’t do this. You’re my teacher, and I’m your student. We could both get in huge trouble.”
           You watched the hopeful glimmer in his eyes fade away, replaced with disappointment as his face fell.
           “But…what if you weren’t my student?” he suddenly asked.
           You scrunched up your eyebrows questioningly.
           “What do you mean?”
           “(Y/N), you don’t have to go to school anymore,” he told you in a pleading voice. “I…I could take care of you. You could do your writing from home, and I could provide for us and our family. I know that you have your own plans, but now you don’t have to-“
           “Our family? Steve, I’m so… I’m confused. You expect me to just quit everything and, what? Be your housewife?”
           Steve frowned at your tone, setting a hand on your shoulder. You tried to move it away from him, but his grip was like iron.
           “Doll, I know that this is sudden, but I also know that I can make you happy. And you can’t deny that you have the same feelings that I do. I can hear your heart pounding as we speak-“
           “That’s because I’m afraid, Steve! I hardly even know you, and the only feelings you’ve given me so far have been fear and discomfort. You can’t just fucking decide that-“
           His grip on you tightened, causing you to let out a yelp of pain.
           “Watch your language, baby,” he warned you, voice hard as steel. “I won’t have you speaking to me that way. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”
           “What you’ve done for me?! You haven’t-“
           “I changed my whole life for you,” he spat, his face getting closer and closer to yours. “I moved across town into a shitty matchbox apartment just to be closer to you. I got you into my class so we could properly meet one another. I’ve given you my heart, (Y/N), and I’m ready to give you the life you’ve always wanted!”            Your head spun with his revelation of just how crazy he was. You wanted to scream in his face; you wanted to tell him just how insane he was. But you knew that wasn’t the smart thing to do in this situation, and if you wanted to make it out of this, you would have to be smart. He was stronger than you, and you were alone with no one else in sight; you couldn’t fight your way out of this.
           “S-Steve,” you whispered, forcing yourself to look into his eyes. “Steve, please. I’m sorry for being so…rude. Just… Can we talk about this? Maybe at the hotel? All of this is so sudden, just like you said. I need to think it through.” You silently willed him to believe what you were saying; if you could just make it back to the street you could try and find help.
           He seemed to turn over your words, hesitating before finally loosening his grip on you.
           “…Okay, doll,” he nodded, taking a step back. “We can talk about this. But you’d better watch the tone you take with me. Now let’s-“
           He was cut off by the sound of a ringtone emanating from his back pocket – more specifically, your ringtone. You both froze for a long moment before Steve slowly reached for it, and your blood ran cold when you saw its familiar phone case. It wasn’t the StarkPhone you’d been borrowing from your teacher all day; no, that was your phone. The one that you hadn’t been able to find yesterday.
           And Steve had it.
           “…I’m sorry about that,” he sighed, crushing the device in his palm as if it were made of paper mache. “I know that this looks bad… I was gonna give it back to you after our week together.”
           All of your reason went out the window, and on shaky legs you turned and did the only thing your brain could think about in that moment.
           You ran.
           You could hear Steve’s footfalls behind you, moving impossibly fast, and you let out a scream, making your voice as loud as possible and willing your legs to move faster. Within seconds though, his vice-like arms were around you, one of his massive palms pressing against your mouth and muffling your cries.
           “Cut it out right now,” he demanded. “You know you can’t win this fight.”
           You didn’t faulter in your frenzied movements, though, still kicking your legs blindly. It was only until you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat that you went still, your vision slowly going black at the corners as it became harder to breathe.
           You were still trying to scream, though, begging anyone who could possibly hear you for help even as your voice became thin and strained. All too soon, though, you felt something hard hit you in the back of the head, and you felt yourself sinking into unconsciousness.
           “Shh, it’s ok,” you thought you heard Steve say. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
           And then everything went black.
________
           The first thing you became aware of as you woke up was how sore you felt. Your head was pounding, your mouth was dry, and your arms were cramping. With a low moan, you tried to move them, but something around your wrists was stopping you.
           “Shhh, doll, you’re ok. I’m so glad you’re waking up.”
           Slowly, your eyes opened and you found yourself face to face with Steve. Sucking in a deep breath, you turned and saw your wrists tied to a bedframe with a thin but strong length of rope. Judging by the rope burn on your skin and the soreness in your muscles, you’d been tied up in that position for a while.
           “I was so afraid I’d hit you too hard,” Steve was going on, perched right next to your hip on the mattress. “I’m sorry that I had to do that, but to be fair, you weren’t leaving me much of a choice.”
           Your eyes widened as you took in the room you were trapped in. The walls and floor were made out of concrete, and there were no windows in sight. There were, however, bookshelves lining an entire wall to your left, and there was a brown leather couch and two matching armchairs placed in front of them. A staircase sat in the corner to your right, and there were two visible doors in the room – one right in front of you and one to the right.
           “Doll? You okay there? Your heart is beating faster than a steam engine.”
           You turned back to face Steve so quickly that your head spun with the movement.
           “S-Steve?” Your voice was brittle, and you just then realized how much your throat hurt.
           “Oh, here, hon. Sip some water; it should help your throat feel better.” Steve stood up and retrieved a glass of water from the nightstand before once more taking his place beside you and holding it to your lips. You tried to lift your head up off the pillow as much as possible, but some of it still dribbled down your chin.
           After you’d drank your fill, Steve put the glass back on the table and leaned over you, letting one of his hands rest on your hip while the other one wiped away the water you’d spilled.
           “There you go. That feel any better?”
           You warily nodded, completely unsettled by the pleasant little smile he was wearing on his face.
           “Steve,” you tried once again. “Where am I?”
           “Don’t worry about that,” he said, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb while his other hand drew lazy circles against your hip. “You’re safe.”
           You struggled once more against your ties, but all you accomplished was aggravating your already raw skin. Steve sighed and pulled away, standing up and putting his hands on his hips.
           “Doll, I’ve already warned you about your attitude,” he chided. “If you calm down, I’ll untie you, but first you’ve gotta settle down and behave. Understood?”
           You felt tears spring to your eyes as you realized just how helpless you were in this situation, but you blinked them away as you nodded. You stopped struggling and lay still.
           “I-I understand.”
           “Good girl. Now, I’ll untie you, but if you try to run or do anything stupid, I won’t hesitate to tie you up again and leave you like that for the next week. Got it?” When you nodded your head, Steve tsked, shaking his head. “You need to do better than that. Say, ‘I promise not to run, Steve.’”
           “I-I promise not to run, Steve,” you recited, feeling a tear slide down your cheek.
           His face softened at that, and he leaned over you to wipe it away.
           “Don’t cry, baby. You’re safe here, remember? The last thing I wanna do is hurt you.”
           Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pocketknife, and you winced as he gripped the rope. With quick, deft movements, he severed both chords, and as soon as you were free you scrambled as far away from him on the bed as possible, rubbing the sore skin of your wrists while drawing your knees up to your chin. Steve sighed at your response, but all he did was sit down on the bed again.
           “Now, you said you wanted to talk earlier, right? So let’s talk. But this time, watch your tone; you’re already due for a punishment for how you spoke to me earlier.”
           You felt yourself blanch at his tone, hugging your knees tighter as you watched him; you didn’t want to talk. You didn’t even know what to say, other than to voice the one question echoing in your mind.
           “…Why?” you finally asked. “Why are you doing this?”
           “Because I love you, doll,” was his immediate response. “I know that you’re confused. I know that you’re scared, and I can understand that. Love is…scary; it’s terrifying. But I know that if you just give me a chance, you’ll see how happy we can be together.”
           You shook your head, trying to trample down the anger you felt welling up inside you; yelling at him would get you nowhere.
           “Steve…this isn’t the way to go about this,” you carefully said. “I don’t want a relationship right now. And it’s not about you; I don’t want a relationship with anybody until I’m done with college. Please, just…let me go, and I promise I won’t tell anyone, ok? We can even go on a proper date after I graduate if you still want to. Just please, please, let me go. You don’t want to do this.”
           Steve’s lips stretched into a humorless smile, and he let out a cold chuckle.
           “I don’t want this, huh? What do you know about what I want? As a matter of fact, what has anyone ever known about what I want? Or what’s more, when have they cared?
           “I never wanted to be this,” he growled, gesturing down at his body. “I didn’t want to be some super soldier; I just wanted to serve my country. I never wanted to wake up in a century I didn’t belong in. I didn’t want to fight against an alien army; I didn’t want to watch half of my friends turn to dust; I didn’t want to see the first woman I ever loved slowly die of an old age I never got to reach.
           “But I did it. I did all of that, and now? I’m tired of doing shit I don’t wanna do just because it’s what’s right. Just this once, I want something for myself. Someone for myself. I want to be happy. And baby, right now, you’re what I need to be happy.
           “I’ve given everything away, and now I’m going to collect on what I’ve rightfully fucking earned.”
           The entire time he was talking, his gaze had gone darker and darker as his voice rose, and now he stood up, marching to the side of the bed you were resting on and pulling you up with both hands wrapped around your biceps. You felt yourself being lifted completely into the air, but before you could push him away, he was kissing you.
           His lips were unforgiving as they moved against yours, his tongue shoving itself inside of your mouth ungracefully. You whimpered, pressing your hands against his chest and wriggling your body in his grip. He made no signs of budging, though, only tightening his grip on you.
           Desperate to separate yourself from him, you bit down on his tongue, feeling yourself being suddenly dropped to the hard floor as Steve let out a howl. You thought you saw blood trickle down from his lips as you staggered to your feet, but you tore your eyes away from him and quickly started rushing to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time, you climbed them until you reached the steel door at their top.
           With shaky hands, you turned its handle, but it didn’t move so much as an inch. Feeling your heart plummet to your toes, you uselessly flung yourself against it, vaguely aware of your own screaming.
           Letting out a sob, you pressed your back against the cold steel, looking down to see Steve wiping a small trail of blood off of his chin. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and in spite of his obvious pain, there was a smirk on his lips. There was no mistaking the anger in his eyes, though.
           “Get your ass,” he growled, drawing himself to his full height, “down those fucking stairs.”
           Your entire body was trembling as you realized how helpless you were.
           “NOW,” Steve suddenly shouted, and you jolted at the sound.
           Moving as if in a daze, you descended the stairs, a cold numbness spreading throughout your body as you realized you were well and truly trapped. When you stood in front of Steve once again, you felt his hand grip your chin harshly, yanking your face closer to his.
           “That,” he growled, “was a stupid thing to do.”
           He suddenly spun you around and pushed you, and you let out a shriek as you landed on the mattress. He didn’t give your body a chance to stop bouncing before he was on you, tearing at your shirt until you felt the material rip.
           “I tried to do this the right way,” he was muttering, almost to himself. “I waited for months. I watched you; I was nice to you. I had an entire evening planned for you after the park if you’d have just said yes.”
           You cried out as he yanked your pants down your legs, and you blindly kicked at him as you sobbed. With harsh, jerky movements, he pushed them apart and settled his hips over yours, settling his weight over you until you were pinned.
           “I was gonna be gentle with you,” he continued on, running his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts so hard through your bra that you yelped. “I was going to make your first time so special, baby. But then you had to go and fuck it all up.”
           Your body froze for a second, a wave of terror crashing over you at his implications. Steve used your pause as an opportunity to push his jeans down, taking his underwear with them. You tried your best not to look down at his body as he took his shirt off, but you’d still caught a glance at what lay in store for you.
           His cock was enormous, bigger than any you’d seen in any porn, and you squeezed your legs together at the thought of it inside your body. It wouldn’t fit; there was no way.
           “Please, Steve,” you were babbling, once more trying to push him away. “Please, it’s gonna hurt so bad; please, I don’t want this to be my first time. Steve, I-“
           His hand descended down over your mouth, gritting his teeth as his other hand tore off your bra.
           “I hope it does hurt, doll,” he growled. “I hope you can’t walk straight for a week. I hope that every time you even think of running away from me again, every time you so much as move your legs, you feel me fucking into your tight, virgin pussy and remember who you belong to.”
           Suddenly you were being flipped over onto your stomach, and you gripped the sheets as you felt your panties being torn off. This was it, you thought, and you braced yourself as best you could.
           But when your legs weren’t pulled apart, when you didn’t feel his hands against you for a second, your eyes opened once more. You turned your head to look over your shoulder, only to see Steve’s hand  as it slapped your ass so hard you swore you saw stars.
           You buried your face in the blankets beneath you as he spanked you over and over again, sobbing as the pain radiated throughout your entire body. Every time you tried to crawl away from him, his hands would wrap around your hips and pull you right back to where he wanted your body.
           “Nuh-uh, baby,” he growled. “You need to take your God. Damn. Punishment.”
           Each word was punctuated with a spank, and you did nothing to stop your screams as you lost count somewhere around 15. You’d had no idea how strong he was before this; you’d thought you’d sensed it when he held you in his arms last night; you’d thought you’d seen it in his bulging muscles. But it was only now, as he was using his strength to hurt you, that you fully understood it.
           By the time he stopped, you were laying limp on your stomach, crying into the sheets and trying to think of something, anything other than the pain. But when you felt yourself being maneuvered up onto your knees, you felt your panic only increase.
           He gave you no warning before he shoved his cock inside of you, but even if he had said anything, you doubt you would have heard it over your own scream. Your walls were roughly stretched as he entered you, inch by aching inch. Your chest shook with your sobs as they mingled with his moan of pleasure. A part of you wondered how he could be feeling so good while you were in such pain, but all thought left you when he started moving his hips.
           You’d always known that your first time would be at least a little painful, but nothing could have prepared you for this. The pain seemed to radiate throughout your entire body, and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to struggle as his thrusts grew more regular in their rhythm.
           “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hands squeezing your hips. “I knew you would feel good, knew this pussy would be so good to me-“
           He cut himself off with another moan, shifting his hips so he could fuck deeper into you. You had your eyes squeezed shut the entire time, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you willed the pain to go away. You tried to relax against him; you even tried to enjoy it, just to ease the pain. You were desperate for it to go away, and your cries only increased when Steve started to move faster.
           Whether it was out of pity or just his own sick amusement, he slowed in his rhythm just a bit, snapping his hips almost lazily as one of his hands trailed down your back.
           “Oh, I’m sorry baby,” he breathed, dragging his cock up and down your walls, hitting a spot inside of you that made your eyes fly wide open. “I forgot that you like it nice and slow at first, right?”
           You whined at his words; the pain was still present, but with him hitting against that spot that made colors dance behind your vision, pleasure was starting to build alongside it. You were somewhat aware that you were babbling, but you couldn’t even make out your own words as he hit that spot repeatedly.
           “I used to watch you, you know,” he grunted, reaching around your body to run his finger over your clit. You jolted at the sensation, inadvertently clenching around him. “I would watch you use that little pink toy you kept in your bedside table. I – fuck - memorized how you made yourself cum, knowing I could make you feel so much better than that tiny piece of plastic ever could.”
           As he started thrusting faster once more, his fingers sped up with him, rubbing up and down against your clit until your sobs slowly started transforming into moans.
           “See, doll? I fucking knew you would love this,” he said. “Knew you would see how you were made to be mine. I’ll fucking make you see.”
           Your eyes rolled as you felt yourself moving closer and closer to the edge, and from the shouts and half-grunted words of praise spilling from Steve’s lips, he was getting close, too. His hips were moving at a brutal pace, but you were starting to crave it even through the dull haze of pain. He was filling you up so well, hitting every corner and ridge inside of your pussy so perfectly, so completely; you did nothing to stop your moans from falling out of your lips, all of your fear and agony fading away until there was nothing but Steve and the pleasure he was bringing you.
           “Steve-!” you cried out, your hips moving against his of their own accord. “P-please-“ You weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop or begging him not to, but as you reached the edge of your climax, you found that you didn’t care.
           “I know, baby,” he growled, “I know. I-I… Fuck!”
           Suddenly, his fingers were gone from your clit, and you let out a whine as your orgasm eluded you, slipping away right through your fingers. You felt something warm flood your pussy, though, and you looked over your shoulder to see Steve’s mouth open in a silent scream, pure bliss written across his features as he came inside of your abused pussy.
           Your eyes were wide open, silently pleading with him as you squirmed beneath his body, but when he opened his eyes and saw your sad, needy face, all he did was grin.
           “I knew you would be perfect, baby,” he panted, slowly pulling his cock out of you with a wince. You ignored the sensation of his cum leaking out of your body, trying to catch your breath between the sobs that were starting to return.
           “W-why…” you started to ask, but he just leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
           “Be a good girl for me next time, and I’ll let you cum.”
           You melted against the mattress and watched him dress with unseeing eyes, the pleasant feelings in your cunt starting to fade while slowly being replaced by a dull, throbbing ache that brought fresh tears to your eyes.
           “Now, I’m going to go out and get a few things from the store,” Steve spoke, his voice steady and neutral despite what he’d just done to you. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I want you to think about what you’ve done and have a nice apology waiting for me when I come home, okay?”
           When you didn’t respond, he turned to you and raised one threatening eyebrow, not looking away until you’d given him a shaky nod.
           “Good girl. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
           After pulling his shoes on, he started climbing the stairs, pausing at the top to look back down at you with a deceptively warm, soft smile.
           “I love you, doll.”
           And with that, he left, leaving you with his cum cooling on your thighs.
678 notes · View notes
svtxsoju · 4 years ago
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01. crush that hangover! | dear miss soju
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ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 5.0k words  ღ Binu’s Note: ever stare at a selfie so long that it looks weird? ya that’s this chapter for me. there were just so many elements that i wanted to get right, but i kept changing things and now i can’t look at it anymore :c i’ll properly proofread it later, but for now enjoy!! i have some other content ima post later so i’m p excited for that hehehe anyway ya happy friday!!! 
《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》
《 Previous ⊛ Next 》
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Monday, September 2, 2019 9:05AM
This was not how Joohyun had imagined her first day at The Front. Whenever she described this moment to Jihoon, she was very clear about the way she would walk in so confidently that the senior writers would wonder why they forgot to email her an invite to their 8:30 meeting. Jihoon, who relished in raining on her parade, predicted that they wouldn’t even know her name. But she had no time for his blunt realism, because she had been living as a made-up person since June and her corporate daydreams were the only things keeping her sane. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she figured that once they saw her talent, everything would be just fine.
So it’s not difficult to imagine Joohyun’s distress when she just barely stumbled into the office this morning, nursing a mind-melting hangover. 
She should have known she would be a goner when the sports section interns had challenged her to a drinking game at last night’s welcome party. Her drinking partner, a small girl interning at HR, had only made it two shots in before falling asleep on her lap. For the record, she had still made sure that she was the last intern standing (although she definitely wasn’t the same bright-eyed freshman that could chug a pitcher of soju and beer just to spite Jihoon). Looking around the office, she felt a little relieved to find that the other interns were suffering just as much as her, if their slumped positions and pained groans told her anything. So much for giving a good first impression.
Joohyun was trying her best not to look like she was two steps from an early grave when she was approached by a big woman with a laptop in her arms. She awkwardly bowed her head to greet her, but the woman’s gaze never left the screen of her Macbook. “Miss… Joonyoung?”
“Oh, that’s not--” 
“You’re the new advice column intern, correct?” 
“Oh. Yes, that’s me, but that’s not my--” 
“I’ll show you to your desk.” Without so much as a glance, the woman turned on her heel, now typing furiously on her laptop. Joohyun followed behind glumly.
This was all Jihoon’s fault. 
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“So, how’s your first day going?” Jihoon asked over his bowl of ramen. He flagged down the tall waiter and ordered a bowl of rice.
“Fine,” was Joohyun’s curt answer. In truth, it was far from ideal. She had watched longingly as all the other interns were assigned with their first projects, while she was left with an empty inbox. How was she supposed to write an advice column when there was no one asking her for advice? She spent most of the morning familiarizing herself with the previous entries of The Front’s dating advice column, the most recent of which dated to the newspaper’s May issue… from 1997. 
When her supervisor told her to take a lunch break, she had made a beeline to meet Jihoon at the restaurant near the cafe he worked at. Now that she was sitting in front of him though, she wasn’t quite ready to confess that her dream job was much more mundane than she expected. “Hey, wasn’t this a fried chicken shop last semester?” 
“That bad, huh?” Jihoon clicked his tongue. Joohyun sighed - she didn’t know why she even tried to hide anything from him when he’s known her for 12 years. He probably knew some parts of her better than she did. “Come on Joo, don’t give up on Miss Soju so easily. It’s just because you’re a little hungover. We watched The Notebook like five times this summer! What more do you need to know about true love? Do you want me to set you up on another date with that freakishly tall dude for more hands-on experience? Ah, speak of the devil!” 
“Thanks, Mingyu.” Joohyun took the bowl of rice and gave the server a sweet smile, which greatly contrasted with the glare she shot at Jihoon soon after. The server, a stunning boy with jet-black hair and tanned skin, stuck his tongue out at Jihoon. She waited until Mingyu went to the other side of the restaurant to serve a rowdy group of boys to whisper-shout at Jihoon. “Can you try not to expose my identity to the whole campus before I even get the chance to write my first ever entry?” 
“Ohhh, that’s why you’re sulking. No one’s sent you a letter yet so you didn’t get to do anything today,” Jihoon said. It sometimes got annoying how he could read her like she was his worn-out copy of his favorite sports manga.  She had to admit though, he did find ways to make it worth it. Like when he said, “I might actually be able to help you with that one, if you want. I can make a little shout out for Miss Soju on my stream tonight. For a small price, of course.” 
“You’re streaming tonight?” The girl perked up from poking at her noodles. Over the past three years, Jihoon had built up a cult following through Woozi’s Universe, a Twitch stream where he shared music made by the underground artists on campus (including him). He only ever released new music on Mondays, so tonight would definitely have a large viewership. Joohyun immediately went into her business pose lest she show how eager she really was. “Well, what would you like in exchange, Mr. Lee?” 
“I merely request that you pay for my lunch today, Ms. So,” he replied. Joohyun looked in horror at Jihoon, a petite man who ate like he was three boys going through puberty; today alone he had had an extra-large bowl of ramen, three orders of rice, and two cans of Coke. 
Then, she imagined facing an empty inbox for the rest of the week. Yup, this was  definitely worth it. That didn’t stop her from making a show of taking out her wallet, taking care to sigh extra  loudly. She had to give Jihoon his moment to revel in his triumphs, otherwise he would get grumpy. 
Jihoon cackled giddily. “Pleasure doing business with you as always, Ms. So.” 
“Pretty sure my hangover is coming back.”
“Oh shit, shut up!” Jihoon suddenly yelped and ducked underneath the table.
“What the hell, Jih--” 
“No, don’t say my name! He might hear you and then I’ll have to talk to him,” Jihoon whispered, jerking his head towards a bright yellow blur skipping to the back of the restaurant. “He’s one of my fans. He found out I worked at the cafe and now he keeps coming in to talk to about how sad his sex life is.”
Joohyun pursed her lips and peeked a glance over. He had joined the table of rowdy boys.  “Hmm, maybe I should say hi... he seems like a potential Miss Soju reader.” 
“Just pay the check already, woman!” 
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The new interns at The Front were not the only students sporting hangovers that day. This can only be expected of the second week back at MU. Sunday night had been the explosive finale of a full week of department welcome parties, happy reunions, and lots and lots of alcohol. Some of the incoming freshmen were convinced that Mansae University was not actually a school, but a training ground for surviving as many shots of soju as physically possible. That is until they woke up on Monday morning and still had to drag themselves to their 9AM’s, suddenly faced with the reality of what college really was: an endless cycle of perpetual hangovers and school work that’s due way too soon. 
This was all good news for the new ramen shop on campus, which had been serving the hoards of hungover zombies since 10AM. Vernon, who was in great pain from the night before, had been ambushed by his roommate after his morning class. He was brought to the restaurant under the pretense of curing his woes with a bowl of warm soup and noodles. When he caught sight of a man in red waiting for them at a back table though, he immediately knew what was actually coming. 
“Hello Vernonnie,” Seungcheol greeted him with a sly smile. “Care to take a seat next to me?”
“Uh, not really,” Vernon mumbled, but he sat down anyway. He scrunched his nose at his roommate as the boy slumped into the seat in front of him. “Traitor.”
“Sorry babe, Seungcheol hyung promised me free lunch. Also, you’re one to talk, after you abandoned me to fend for myself last night--! Ugh,” his roommate, Seungkwan, clutched at his head, where a rusty hammer persistently tapped away at his temple. “Hyung, why did you do this to me? My face is gonna be bloated for the rest of the week. I have an audition in two days, you know!” 
“Hey, I did ask you if you were sure you wanted-- what was that you ordered? Oh yeah-- ‘the strongest drink that is legal to serve in South Korea’!” Seungcheol said, his eyes wide. As he got more defensive, he began to point his finger excessively at Seungkwan. “And what was it all for? To impress your new crush?” 
“I am way too hungover to get lectured by a couple of hypocrites,” Seungkwan grumbled. “I was trying to get some inspiration, you know, a drunken spark of genius! How else am I supposed to figure out how to confess to them?”
“Okay, I wasn’t actually asking,” Seungcheol ignored Seungkwan’s offended gasp in favor of turning his attention to a fidgeting Vernon. His cherry red lips now returned to its wide grin. “I am here to discuss where our dearest Vernon went off to last night.” 
“Um.” Vernon answered with a nervous smile. “I just went home early--”
“Bullshit!” Seungkwan looked absolutely scandalized. “It wasn’t enough to abandon me, so now you’re lying too? I don’t know if I can take much more of this!” 
Vernon had only officially known Seungkwan for two whole weeks, but with the way the two had been inseparable since move-in day, everyone at the freshmen dorms had assumed that they had known each other for years and years. He knew that someone like Boo Seungkwan was a rare find as far as random dorm assignments went, and that not everyone was so lucky to have a roommate that reminds them to eat real food once in a while or a friend who’s willing to take care of them when they get their first real hangover. Just for that day alone, Vernon knew that Seungkwan deserved to know where he went. Plus he shared a room with him, so it’s not like he could hide anything anyway.
Seungcheol shook his head and slung an arm around Vernon’s shoulder. His grip wasn’t tight but firm enough that Vernon knew he was trapped there until he confessed the truth. “Look, I don’t need any details! I just wanted to make sure that you’re staying safe and all that junk. Also, I would like to know what base you got to.” He erupted into a fit of giggles, but soon cleared his throat to return to his investigation. “Really though, tell us what happened.” 
It wasn’t like Vernon didn’t want to tell Seungcheol either. Vernon’s and Seungcheol’s families had known each other since the two boys were in middle and high school, and when he found out that Seungcheol would be a senior at Mansae University that year, he felt some of his nerves ease up about moving out. Seungcheol had always been like an older brother to him, and was always there when he needed his help in high school. He trusted him! 
That’s probably why he subconsciously blamed Seungcheol for the pain he was going through at the moment. When the upperclassman had offered to sneak Vernon and Seungkwan into a party at the karaoke bar that he bartended at, the two freshmen all too eagerly accepted without thinking of any consequences. They had received no pointers, no words of caution. How were they supposed to know that bar parties were completely different from welcome dinners? And how was Seungkwan supposed to know that downing so many cocktails within the hour wasn’t a good idea? Most importantly, how was Vernon supposed to know that he would meet someone like her there? Vernon groaned into his hands as he could no longer resist the flood of memories from the night before, and leaned into Seungcheol’s shoulder as he tried to recoil from his past self. “Hyung, it hurts too much to say out loud.”
“It’s okay buddy, take your time,” Seungcheol patted his head gently and called the tall server over. Vernon continued to let out unintelligible noises of regret while the senior ordered bowls for all three of them. “How are you even hungover right now? I only remember giving you one drink last night before you went off with--”
“I’m not hungover.”
“Oh. Then what are you?”
“An idiot,” Vernon mumbled through his fingers. “A big, cringy idiot.” 
Seungkwan raised his hand, looking frantically between the two boys. “Excuse me? Did I miss the reading homework? Went off with who? Last night? What? How drunk was I?!” 
“Very drunk, but that’s not why you didn’t notice Vernon’s new friend. You were a little occupied with your own conquest,” Seungcheol stage-whispered from across the table. “Honestly, you two are wild. It’s only two weeks into fall semester and you’re already out here simping.”
“Um, and? I saw you making googly eyes at several ladies last night!” The higher Seungkwan’s voice rose, the harder the rusty hammer banged inside his head. “Ow.”
“Those were just my friends who happened to be ladies! Sorry that my eyes are just naturally soft and alluring,” Seungcheol said, batting his long, dark lashes at the boy. “What were her eyes like, Vernon? I only noticed that she had a nose ring. Couldn’t really see her properly while you two were ‘talking’ in the corner...” 
“The corner! A nose ring!” Seungkwan repeated and clutched at his chest. “Tell me more.” 
“We were just talking!” Vernon finally spoke, his face stuck in an embarrassed grimace. “There’s not really much more to tell. I just know that she’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met and I’ll never meet anyone like her again.”
“What! You two were talking for like two hours! And I saw you leaving with her!” Seungcheol said a little too loudly for Vernon’s liking. The server gingerly approached their table with their orders, setting the bowls down as quickly as possible before rushing away. Vernon noted to give him a big tip when they left. “Don’t tell us that’s all.”
“I just dropped her off at her apartment and went back to the dorms,” Vernon confirmed to Seungcheol’s horror. “I really didn’t want it to be just last night.”
“So... you asked her out?” 
“No.”
“You got her number?”
“No.”
“Her Instagram? Her Twitter? Her student ID number? Do you even know her name?” 
“I already said I was an idiot,” Vernon whined. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it. But yes, I did at least get her name.”
It was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. She was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. The way her eyes had lit up while they talked about her major. The way her lips had curved into a clever smile when she told a joke. The way her small hand had fit in his as they walked to her apartment. Then, he would remember how he completely fucked it all up before he started, and his headache would return full-force. 
“Dude.” Seungcheol fixed him with a stern stare, but it was kind of hard to take him seriously when his mouth was full of noodles. “Have you never asked a girl out before?”
“You know I have! I don’t know what happened either, okay? I guess I just froze up when she looked at me… then I just went home after telling her good night.”
Seungcheol feigned a gag. “Gross. I was joking earlier, but you’re an actual simp. Hate to break it to you like this.” 
“I think it’s sweet,” Seungkwan piped up from where he comfortably rested his head on the table.
“That’s nice, Seungkwan, but ‘sweet’ isn’t gonna get either of you laid,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Vernon, your girl was clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Trust me, girls don’t just ask anyone to walk them home.”
“I didn’t want to look like a creep!” Vernon sullenly stared down at his untouched bowl of noodles. “What am I supposed to do now, hyung?”
“Yeah, lend us your wisdom, O Alluring One,” Seungkwan chanted. “You clearly have plenty of experience from the past three years. 
“Like I said, I just have a lot of friends,” Seungcheol shrugged, then suddenly checked the time on his phone. “Oh shit--  speaking of friends, I have to meet one for a study session at her apartment in 15 minutes.”
“Sounds nasty.”
“Your mom’s nasty,” Seungcheol retorted with a provocative smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Boo! Then maybe you’d be able to think of how to confess.”
“Uncalled for!”
He placed several bills on the table and checked his phone again. “This should be enough to cover lunch, kiddos. I wish I could help you two, but I’m booked for the rest of the day. And the week.”
“But what if I meet her again?” Vernon asked desperately. 
“Then text me! I might not reply right away though. I’ve got two classes later and then I have dinner plans--”
“Another girl I presume--”
“Shut up! I also have to go to the gym before doing… uh, doing a thing. And then I have a shift at 24H.” Seungcheol stood up and looked at the distressed boys before him, his soft eyes more affectionate than alluring. Was he like this as a freshman? He reached over to ruffle the freshmans' heads. “You two should probably leave soon, too. I’ll see y’all later!” 
And just like that, Seungcheol was gone, and Vernon was once again left without any advice from the senior. Vernon was never one for dramatics, but his personal failures felt like a gray cloud of shame hanging over him. He began to worry that he was just gonna have to live like this forever, because nothing in the world was bright enough to break through his doom and gloom (well, her smile probably could, but Vernon was never going to see that again). The fact that Seungkwan seemed like he was about to Train to Busan his ass any minute now didn’t really lift his spirits either.
Lucky for him, the universe was not going to let him give up so easily. At that moment, a boy with glaringly yellow hair and a heavy camera on his shoulder bursted through the entrance. His smile brightened when he spotted the two boys in the back and he didn’t hesitate to bound towards them, skipping right past the server welcoming him in. “Seungkwan! I knew I’d find you here.”
“Dearest Vernon, it seems we have been joined by the lovely Soonyoung hyung. Perhaps he might know the medicine we require to ease our ailments in love,” Seungkwan suddenly stood up, all signs of his hangover expertly hidden. He smiled directly into the camera lens. “Hyung, would you kindly share your wisdom with us lowly freshmen? Pray tell, how does one woo the object of their affection?”
Vernon, who was well-acquainted with Seungkwan’s antics by then, watched on in silent amusement. If anything could distract him from his internal turmoil for a moment, it was Seungkwan; even if he was just spewing nonsense. What really made him crack up though, was the way Soonyoung (that was his name, right?) was clearly trying very hard to suppress his giggles. “Um,” Soonyoung managed to  cut in breathlessly. “You know I’m not rolling, right? Also, I didn’t understand any of the words that just left your mouth, but it definitely felt like you were putting some sort of ancient curse on me. Hi, I’m Soonyoung by the way!”
Vernon introduced himself and shook Soonyoung’s hand. Seungkwan could only sigh in exasperation at Soonyoung’s lack of culture (not that he was surprised of course). The boy apparently thought it was a good fashion choice to leave his apartment wearing a tiger print button-up. “I was  asking if you could help us out with confessing to our crushes,” Seungkwan said with a roll of his eyes. 
“Ohh, that’s what you said!” Soonyoung laughed until he was keeled over, clutching his stomach. Vernon and Seungkwan could only watch him with great expectation. When the boy finally caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, he gave the boys a very serious look. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten any since January. So you should probably ask someone else.” 
This also did not surprise Seungkwan. 
“Excuse me?” The tall server approached them again, clearly giving them his best ‘I hate working in retail’ smile. “If y’all are done eating, could you please leave? You’re disturbing the other customers.” 
“I’m eating, I’m eating!” Soonyoung smiled until his cheeks reached his eyes, a power move that he saves for occasions where he found himself in trouble, which happened more often than he’d care to admit. Once the server let them be, muttering something about not getting paid enough, Soonyoung turned his killing smile onto the two boys. “Can I have some of this? I can Venmo y’all later, I’m pretty broke right now.” 
Vernon pushed his uneaten ramen towards Soonyoung, who looked at him as if he was the sun itself. The boy carefully set down his film camera and immediately began slurping away. Vernon nodded his head towards the contraption and asked why he was carrying it around.
 “Oh, I rented it before coming to find Seungkwan. I’m thinking about making him the subject of my film project this semester, since the theater program is pretty buzzed that he’s joining this year!” Soonyoung patted the camera affectionately.
“‘Thinking about?’ I thought I was your final choice!” Seungkwan blurted. The ramen he had for lunch seemed to have finally restored some of his strength, because he no longer clutched at his temple when his voice rose.
“I said ‘most likely’ choice! I just want to keep my options open,” Soonyoung responded with great care. He didn’t want to hurt Seungkwan’s feelings, but he was definitely re-evaluating alternate subjects at the moment.  “It’s only the second week!”
“This is why you’re single,” the theater major said in a huff. “Lack of commitment!”
“Hey! I am perfectly capable of commitment. It’s the girls that don’t want to commit, ” Soonyoung said in a small voice, and looked off into the distance wistfully. “I really hope Woozi does put out a new song tonight. Maybe he’ll tweet something soon.” 
“Woozi? Who’s that?” Vernon asked. At this point, he was just looking for anything that would fend off his memories, which lingered at the edges of his mind and waited for moments of silence to bring him another fresh glass of cringe. He was pretty sure that he had experienced well above the recommended daily serving. 
“Oh, he’s a Twitch streamer from MU! I was actually gonna say if you two are really struggling in the love department, you should definitely check out his stream tonight.” Soonyoung nearly wiggled with enthusiasm. “He usually promotes songs from artists around the area, but his self-composed songs are my personal favorites. They’ve been what’s getting me through this dry spell, honestly.”
“Oh, that sounds pretty cool.” It sounded like it was right up Vernon’s alley, actually. 
Soonyoung nodded. “You listen to them and you just feel hopeful to find the kind of love he sings about. I’ll send you the link later!” 
“Underground artists? No thanks, I think I’ll stick to Eva Noblezada,” Seungkwan scoffed. “I don’t really think a stranger can help me with my problems. They don’t even know me.” 
“Oh come on, Kwan. Let’s just give it a shot!”
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Even after all his grumbling, Seungkwan still sat beside Vernon at one of the desks in their dorm later that night. They had opened the link Soonyoung had sent them, and munched on some snacks while they waited for the stream to start up. Vernon waited with baited breath for his distraction to begin; he had spent most of the day attempting to wall off any thoughts of her or last night, but it was kind of difficult to think of anything else when all of his professors only droned on and on about quizzes and homework. 
When a boy with fair skin and burgundy hair came into frame, he nearly sighed in relief. The streamer appeared to be sitting in a small, dark office only illuminated by his computer screen and several pink neon signs that hung on the walls. Vernon could recognize the faint outlines of several guitars and a keyboard behind him. The boy clicked around for a while as more people joined the stream before finally waving into the camera. 
“Hi guys, welcome in! Thanks for joining Woozi’s Universe. If you’re new here, I’m Woozi and I like to write songs sometimes. If you’re an old subscriber, I’m really sorry for the long wait.  I’ve been working on a lot of projects, doing some collabs - I’ll actually be releasing one of those collabs tonight and I’m really excited for you guys to hear it. If you have any new songs you want to listen to together, go ahead and leave them in the chat!”
As soon as the stream started flowing, Vernon immediately knew why Soonyoung gave Woozi such rave reviews. The guy just had good vibes and he definitely knew his music. Vernon was hooked. Even Seungkwan, try as he might to look disinterested, couldn’t help bopping his head occasionally.
“Thanks for the subscription @chweinggum! You just helped me reach my tenth new sub for tonight, and you guys know what that means. Time for the new song! It was really fun to write this with my collaborator, so we really hope you like it!” 
After spending the past hour just vibing in Woozi’s Universe, discovering new songs and artists, Vernon had really hyped himself up to hear the streamer’s personal work. If Soonyoung’s words were true, this would be the song that would truly heal his heartache, the song that would push him to forget about the whole ordeal. He listened in anticipation as pleasant harmonies played through his laptop speakers. But as the song progressed, Vernon did not quite feel the reprieve he was hoping for. In fact, he was kind of taken aback. The lyrics… felt like they told his story. Maybe not word for word, but enough to make Vernon stare at the laptop screen with his mouth open. What kind of hocus pocus, That’s So Raven, mind reading shit was this? The song broke down the walls he had tried to build throughout the day and left him vulnerable to its strangely upbeat and energetic tune. 
He had to admit that he didn’t hate it. The cringe from his own actions did not disappear, but the song helped him focus more on the moments that made his heart flutter, the moments that incited those pesky butterflies in his stomach. They were the moments that made him so hard on himself in the first place and the reasons why it hurt so much that he messed up. She had made him feel seen. She had done everything right. And all he wanted to do was to show her that he saw her too. He just had to figure out how. 
Woozi clapped his hands loudly when the song came to an end, bringing Vernon out of his deep reverie. “And that was Pretty U by yours truly! I collaborated on it with an artist who doesn’t want to be named as of now, so I’ll just say it was great to work with such a talented person and I hope to work with them again soon! Anyway, we know the lyrics are pretty cheesy, but let’s just say it’s based on a juvenile romance! I tried capturing that giddy feeling of liking someone and wanting to tell them pretty words but losing confidence at the last second. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.”
Vernon sat up, nodding his head as if Woozi could see him. After his song scanned his soul like that, Vernon figured it wasn’t impossible.
“I know that some of my subscribers listen to me because they go through these kinds of hardships. But I wanted to say that my songs can’t fix everything. Even I go through it sometimes and I need someone to lean on. There’s actually a new thing I just found out about from a friend - ‘Dear Miss Soju’. It’s a column that they’re gonna start publishing on The Front’s website, and you can anonymously write in all your burning questions about love, relationships, or sex. So if you’re having a hard time confessing like in this song, just know that there’s someone out there to help you out!
“Since you’ll be anonymous, you can write about your heart’s deepest desires, even if it’s a little freaky. Yes, I’m talking to you, user @callmesoon, please stop trying to tell me about your sex life. Anyway, I’ll put the email in the description for anyone that’s interested!” Woozi paused to laugh at several of the comments. “No guys, The Front does not sponsor me. But I can tell you about a company that does sponsor me. Hello Fresh--”  
Seungkwan closed the laptop and sighed. “Well, that didn’t help me at all. Soonyoung hyung said this Woozi guy was gonna make me feel better, but now he’s just telling us to spilll all our secrets to some other stranger. What a scam! Right, Vernon? Vernon?”
By the time Seungkwan turned to look at his friend, Vernon was already writing his second draft for his email. The boy sighed again. Maybe he could give it a shot.
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The next morning, Joohyun opened up her laptop to find thirteen emails in her inbox. She smiled. 
Now she could get to work.
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bucky-of-the-opera · 5 years ago
Text
Put a Little Boogie in It
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: A night out with friends leads to a horrible, wonderful mistake.
Warnings: language, alcohol
Word Count: 2,323
A/N: This is for @captain-rogers-beard follower milestone One Hit Wonder Challenge! My song is “Mickey” by Toni Basil
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You were several episodes into a marathon binge of your latest Netflix show when you heard a knock at your door. 
“One second!” you shouted as you struggled to unravel yourself from your cocoon of blankets. You opened your bedroom door to find Natasha fully dressed for a night out. 
“What are you doing?” she asked coolly. 
“Watching the new season of –”
“Not anymore,” she said, cutting you off. “We’re going out.”
“Where?”
“There’s a new bar opening tonight, and I need a designated driver.”
“Can’t you use one of Tony’s drivers?” you groaned.
She smiled sweetly at you. “But you’re much better company.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”
“Great. Now put some pants on, and meet me in front of the elevator when you’re ready to go.”
You looked down at your exposed legs and tugged on your oversized sweatshirt as Natasha walked away. 
“So much for a cozy night all to myself,” you muttered as you shut your door and started getting dressed. 
A little while later you emerged from you room and found Natasha waiting by the elevator.
“Took you long enough,” she said as she pressed the down button. Seconds later the doors opened, revealing Bucky Barnes leaning against the back wall of the elevator. He looked surprised to see the two of you. 
“Evening, Barnes,” Natasha said as she moved to stand next to him. 
“Romanoff,” he responded.
She pressed the button for the garage level. As she did so, she noticed no other button was lit up. 
You scuttled inside before the doors shut, standing on his other side. “Oh, hi Bucky!”
“Hi, Y/N.” He gave you a quick once-over, his gaze lingering on your outfit. He normally saw you in combat gear for missions or in comfortable clothes for exercising or lounging around on a day off. “You look…nice.” His cheeks blushed a bit as he continued. “Where are you two headed?”
“Nat’s dragging me to a bar.”
“I thought you were planning on watching some new show all night. I explicitly remember you telling Steve you were off duty for the foreseeable future until you finished it.”
“And now she’s helping a friend in need,” Natasha interrupted. “By the way, Barnes, it seems you forgot to select a floor.”
His cheeks grew even hotter. “Oh, uh, you’re right.”
Bucky pushed a random button and then shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. 
The rest of the ride was endured in silence until the elevator stopped at Bucky’s floor. He walked through the doors as you called out to him. “Have a good bight, Nucky.
Natasha had to bite her lip to hold back from snickering. 
Your eyes widened as you quickly corrected yourself. “I mean night! Have a good night, Bucky!”
Bucky smiled as he turned around to face you. “You have a good bight too, Y/N.”
The doors shut once more as you slammed your hand to your forehead. 
“Interesting,” Natasha said. 
“What is?” you asked, annoyed. 
“Oh, you know. Just you and Barnes.”
“There is no ‘me and Barnes’.”
“If you say so,” she said, unconvinced. 
You huffed in response and left the elevator when it reached the garage. The two of you had just started walking when you saw Maria Hill heading your way. 
“Where are you off to, all dolled up?” Natasha asked.
Maria smoothed down the front of her blouse. “I was supposed to be meeting someone tonight. But the guy cancelled last minute. Again.”
“Why don’t you come out with us?” you asked.
“Well, I am already dressed for the occasion. Why not?”
“His loss is our gain,” Natasha added as she whipped out her phone. “Our driver will be here any minute.”
You turned to look at her. “I thought I was driving?”
“You were,” Natasha said. “But now it’s a party.”
***
“What are we drinking to?” Maria asked as she picked up her glass. 
“To Tony, for sponsoring tonight’s event,” Natasha winked. 
The three of you clinked your drinks together before sipping from your glasses.
“So,” Natasha began, “who’s this mystery man you were supposed to see tonight.”
“No one, really. We’ve only gone out twice,” Maria responded as she swirled her drink. “What about you two? Anyone new and exciting in your lives?”
“Not me, but…” Natasha trailed off as she glanced at you.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Are you sure?” she continued. “Not even a certain 100 year-old cyborg?”
“Of course not! And he’s not a cyborg.”
“Are you talking about Sergeant Barnes?” Maria asked. “I didn’t realize you two were –”
“We’re not! We’re just friends!” you exclaimed, cutting her off.
“But you want to be something, right?” 
“Is this why you asked me to come out? So you could badger me about Bucky?”
“No, of course not,” Natasha paused, “well, maybe a little. I can’t help it; this whole will-they-or-won’t-they routine is killing me.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, confused.
She sighed. “I’m talking about the way you’re dancing around your feelings for him. It’s blatantly obvious to every else that you’re infatuated with him.”
You turned to Maria. “Is that true? Does everyone think I…like Bucky?”
“I mean, I’m not around as much as Natasha and the others. But from what I’ve seen, it does seem like you, uh, care for him quite a bit…”
You groaned and buried your head in your folded arms. “I’m going into hibernation when we get back. No one will see me for the next few months.”
Natasha chuckled and patted your back. “There, there. Aunt Nat is here to make all your worries go away.”
You snuck a peek with one eye and saw her slowly push a shot glass toward you. You sighed before grabbing the drink, downing it, and slamming the glass back on the table.
“There you go,” Natasha smiled. “Nothing a little alcohol can’t help.”
“Alcohol is only a temporary fix. I’ll still have to live with the fact that everyone knows I like Bucky.”
“Don’t you think he likes you as well?” Maria asked. 
You fiddled with a thread on your sleeve. “I’m not sure.”
Natasha leaned forward. “Well, lucky for you, I’m very observant.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I see all. Including his pining for you.”
You scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”
“Take tonight, for instance. Bucky was coming to your room to confess his love for you.”
“Natasha,” you warned her.
“All right, I don’t know if that’s why he was coming, but he was definitely on his way to see you.” She took a sip of her drink, leaving you in suspense. “He was surprised to see you dressed up and leaving the compound.”
“That’s because I told Steve I was confining myself to my room to –”
“Let me finish,” Natasha said. “There was no button lit up besides the one I pushed.”
“He already said he forgot.”
“Or he had pushed the button for your floor and was heading for your room when we caught him on the elevator.”
You traced the rim of your glass with your finger. “Hmm, maybe.”
“Not to mention all the times I’ve caught him staring at you. Much like the times I’ve caught you staring at him,” she grinned.
You groaned. “Okay, that’s enough. I don’t wanna hear  your theories anymore.” You lifted your empty glass. “Can you just get me another drink?”
“That, I can do.”
***
A few hours later, you and Natasha finally arrived back at the compound after Tony’s driver had dropped Maria off at her place. There was no way you were going to be able to make it back to your room by yourself, so you leaned on Natasha as she led the way.
She closed the bedroom door behind her when the two of you finally reached your bedroom. After carefully placing you on your bed, she searched your drawers for pajamas. 
Meanwhile, you pulled out your phone and opened Pandora, scrolling until you found the 80s Pop station. The app buffered until a song finally started playing.
You gasped. “I love this song!”
“Really?” Natasha asked. 
But you had already started singing along. “Oh Mickey, you're so fine. You're so fine you blow my mind, hey Mickey! Hey Mickey!”
Natasha rolled her eyes as you continued singing to the song. Halfway through however, you had a revelation. 
“Natasha!”
“Y/N!”
“You can replace Mickey with Bucky, and the song still works!” You sang more to prove your point. 
“Oh Bucky, what a pity you don't understand. You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand.”
Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was already recording your new rendition of “Mickey” as you danced on top of your bed. 
“Oh Bucky, you're so pretty, can't you understand? It's guys like you Bucky! Oh, what you do Bucky, do Bucky! Don't break my heart, Bucky!”
After you had come down from your momentary high, Natasha left so you could finally sleep. But before you did, your phone dinged. Natasha sent you the video she had taken of you. 
You watched a bit of it before deciding to send it to Maria, thinking she might find it funny as well. You turned the sound on your phone off before crawling under your covers and finally dozing off.
When you finally woke up, you felt like shit. I’ve gotta stop drinking with Natasha, you thought. You headed into your bathroom to freshen up.
Minutes later you came back to sit on your bed and checked your phone. You saw a text from Natasha asking if you were still alive. You also saw that you had apparently texted Bucky at almost four in the morning. When you opened the message your heart dropped. Apparently in your inebriated state, you had sent the video to Bucky by mistake.
Your first instinct was to call Natasha. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
“She’s alive!”
“I sent the video to Bucky!”
“What?”
“The video from last night! I accidentally sent it to him!”
You heard nothing for a few seconds, and then Natasha burst into laughter.
“This isn’t funny; I have to move now! Or fake my own death! I can’t face him. Please Nat, you have to do something.”
She exhaled to try and catch her breath. “I think this could actually be good for you. Expressing your feelings for someone can be hard; but luckily for you, your drunk self did it for you.”
“But I didn’t want to tell him!” You collapsed back onto your bed and mumbled into your phone, “I just wanted to watch my show.” You ended the call and pulled your blanket back over your head, eventually drifting off again. 
A loud knocking on your door roused you from your slumber.
You groaned. “No one’s home; please leave a message!”
“It’s Bucky.”
Your breath caught in your throat. You rolled onto your side with your back facing the door as you pulled your knees closer to your chest.
“Y/N, can I come in? Please?”
“It’s unlocked,” you said softly. 
The handle turned and Bucky slowly entered the room, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of your bed, his back to you. 
He sat in silence for a few moments before speaking. “I went on a jog with Sam earlier today. He told me a corny joke that I think you would’ve appreciated.” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at you, but you were still facing away from him. “How do you make a tissue dance?”
Several seconds passed until you finally answered, your voice muffled by the blanket. “You put a little boogie in it.”
He smiled. “So you’ve heard that one? How about this one: What do you call a fake noodle?” 
“An impasta.”
Bucky shook his head. “I swear, you and Sam have the same sense of humor.”
“We have the best sense of humor.” You rolled onto your back to look at him, the blanket resting just below your chin. “Did you come up here just to tell me some jokes?”
Bucky adjusted himself so he could face you. “Yes. But also because I missed your face.”
You failed at trying to hide your smile. “I missed your face too.” You sat up, letting the blanket drop to your lap. “I’m sorry about the video. I blame alcohol.”
He chuckled. “I never knew you were such a good singer.”
“Can we just forget about this whole thing, please? It’s embarrassing.”
Bucky moved so he was sitting next to you, his arm pressed against yours. “I won’t bring it up, but I want to keep the video.”
“Why?!”
“Because it makes me laugh. And because you called me pretty.”
You crossed your arms and pouted. “I didn’t call you pretty. My drunk alter ego called you pretty.”
“But you think I’m pretty too, right?” He nudged you with his elbow. 
“You’re gorgeous,” you said in a flat tone, making him laugh. You sighed. “If you promise not to show the video to anyone else, you can keep it.”
He crossed his heart. “Promise.”
“I need a real promise,” you said, holding your pinkie out to him. 
He squinted at it before locking his pinkie with yours. “I promise.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes met yours. “Ya know, I think you’re pretty too.”
You tried to pull your hand away but even the grip from his pinkie was too strong to break free of.
Bucky moved his face closer to yours, making your heart race. He stopped just mere inches from you, giving you a chance to pull your head back if you wanted. But instead you moved forward as well, your lips meeting his for the briefest moment. When you pulled away, you saw him grinning at you. You smiled back at him before burying your head in his shoulder. 
Don’t break my heart, Bucky.
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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago
Text
Which Fic
I was tagged by @stusbunker!
Which of your fics…
…did you think would get a bigger reaction/audience than it got?
Finally. I think reader engagement has definitely declined in general, though.
…got a better reaction than you expected?
The Right Spot. I’m still a little flabbergasted by how popular this was. Like, I thought it was hot, but I didn’t realize that many people would be into it. 
Runner-up, The One Where Reid Is Reading Harry Potter. This is such a dorky little bit of wishful thinking; I really didn’t expect it to get any notes, but I love that so many people shared my emotional attachment to reading out loud. 
…is your funniest?
The Rockstar AU, especially Daisies and Cheers. There’s so much comedic potential in all those characters that doesn’t get put to use because of what they all do; I just started thinking about what they would be like if they were making music and partying, instead of saving the world, and fuckin ran with it. 
Runner-up, Brains Over Beauty. Mostly because I refer to Sam as “Lumberjack Ken.” I’m still giggling over that. 
…is your darkest or angstiest?
Set Yourself On Fire. It’s about Sam between seasons 3 and 4, and it touches on some things that came from a very real emotional place: self-destructive tendencies, depression, drinking, drugs, that sort of fun stuff. I have a lot of fics that are sad or feelsy, but there’s usually some sort of positive spin. This one is just fuckin dark, emotionally. 
…is your absolute favorite?
Probably the Coffee & Psychopaths series. When I started writing Quitting, I knew there were a couple parallels between the characters that I wanted to write about, but the more I wrote, the more I found... and I’m still amazed by the way those canon plotlines wove together. So. Much. Plot. 
This series has become a place for me to dive headfirst into philosophy, psychology, neuroscience, dorky history trivia, and so many more of my favorite subjects, and tie them together with Sam and Spencer character studies, and I love being able to connect all those dots. I love every single fucking sentence of this series so far and I can’t wait to write more. 
 …is your least favorite?
I Can Change. It was my first fic in the Supernatural fandom and when I started it, I had no idea where it was going.
…was the easiest to write?
Big Damn Heroes. I’d had a few of those character exchanges in my head for a loooong time, and the crossover challenge gave me an excuse to finally write them out. I had so much fun writing that and I think it shows.
…was hardest to write?
Lost At Sea (But I Am Home). All of Marked was difficult in its own way (trauma processing! Fun times!) but this even more so. The plot is very very subtle, there’s a lot of emotional nuance happening, and I really wanted to stay true to Dean as a character, and the meta bits are, like, deep and meaningful and shit, and on top of all that I saddled myself with some running metaphors that were tricky to integrate... yeah.
…has your favorite lines/exchange/paragraph? (share it!)
Marked, Chapter 20. The entire conversation with Sam, but especially this: 
“There are good days and there are days when… when it feels like it’s crushing you. And that doesn’t mean you’ve failed, or that you’re not strong enough, or whatever else, because even if you’re doing everything right, the bad days are going to happen. What matters is that you’re trying. Every day you get up and take one little step, in spite of everything you’re carrying, that’s a victory. It’s not about getting somewhere. It’s the step that matters.”
Also, I think a few of the exchanges in Sharp Edges are some of my best work, particularly the negotiation conversation and the last few paragraphs. Such as:
“You good?” he asks, falling back on what seems to be his mantra for the evening.
“I’m… no, not really, hang on,” Spencer mumbles, and Sam flinches, moving away instinctively.
“Shit, sorry, what -”
“No, wait, that’s not - just… can you reach the tissues, or do I actually have to stand up right now?” Spencer asks, with a disgruntled sort of glare at the box of Kleenex on the end table.
Sam laughs, awkward and self-conscious. Spencer blinks owlishly up at him, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Then a smile spreads over his face slowly and he’s laughing too as Sam leans and stretches over to grab the box.
“The male orgasm is really inconvenient sometimes,” Spencer mutters.
Sam lets out another snort of laughter, looking away to give him some privacy as he cleans up. He’s not sure what the etiquette of this whole situation is; it’s such a strange thing, oddly intimate, and even though Sam’s still fully-dressed, he feels exposed in a way he’s not used to.
“Now I’m good,” Spencer says quietly. He’s got his knees tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, but he tilts his head back against the wall and aims a hazy, heavy-lidded stare at Sam. His lips part and curl up in a barely-there smile, and his tongue flicks out over the pink curve of his lower lip.
Those edges that Sam first noticed are harder to see, now; he’s all soft eyes and softer mouth, flushed skin, messy hair… all except the line of his jaw. That’s still wickedly, unmistakably sharp.
Spencer should come with a warning sign: handle with care. Sam’s not sure who that sign would be protecting. It could be handle with care: fragile, or, just as easily, handle with care: sharp edges.
Either way, there’s a good chance of someone getting hurt here.
“Can I kiss you?” Sam asks.
Spencer’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly with surprise, and his pupils are huge and dark, liquid-looking, hypnotic. He blinks, slowly, and suddenly looks about ten years younger. He’d been so self-assured ordering Sam not to draw blood; that confidence is gone, now, like he’s had less experience with kissing than with telling people how to hit him.
Oh, Sam thinks, and tries not to let his own surprise show on his face.
Also also, Origin Stories has some of my favorite conversations/overall themes, but they’re long passages and I’m not gonna paste them here! 
…have you reread the most?
Uh not gonna lie I’ve re-read Everything a lot. Because... unf. That’s my go-to fantasy. 
…would you recommend to someone reading your work for the first time?
Most of my favorites are already cited here! But if you wanted a short, concise kinda one-shot sampler plate, I’d start with:
Let’s Get Married - happy, poetic.
Told You So - sexual tension and snark.
Heart of Gold - feels.
Prey - hot but also weird and unsettling.
…are you most proud of?
Marked. I’ve talked about this fic so much, I don’t think it needs to be reiterated, but Marked means so so much to me.
Tagging: @cockslut-padalecki @deanwanddamons @butiaintgonnaloveem @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @dontshootmespence and whoever else wants to! 
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analogicisms · 5 years ago
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Music & Poetry - Chapter Three
Summary: Popular-but-not-really-famous lyricist Virgil Quinn meets an attractive poet named Logan who claims to hate music. Virgil, who believes lyrics to be every bit the poetry as the kind found in books and anthologies and inspirational posters, feels the need to prove to Logan wrong.
Ship: Analogical (with others in the background)
Rating & Warnings: PG 13.
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3
AO3: Chapter Three
Thanks to @romantichopelessly, @sunshineandteddybears and @paperghastly for pre-reading.
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Chapter Three
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♞ LOGAN ♞
Logan sat at the bar, phone in hand as he watched the front door, waiting for the man that he had just met that morning. If Thomas had told him earlier that day that he would meet a really attractive guy and later agree to have drinks with him, Logan would have inquired whether or not the Dean of Students had lost his mind. Then again, not all the men he met were like this one. And thank goodness, or he would never get any work done. 
 Just then the front door opened and Virgil stepped in. Logan ignored the heat that suddenly radiated from his ears and thanked his lucky stars that the bar they had agreed on was pretty dark due to dim lighting. Virgil reached him and grinned that damned attractive smile. Unfortunately, though he was happy his own blush was hidden, the dim lighting meant he would not be able to see Virgil’s cute blush. 
All the more reason to spend more time with him, Logan, the poet told himself. It was a good thing that he had agreed to spend a whole week with him. 
 Laughing to himself, he reminded himself to not count his chickens before they hatched. 
 Let’s get through tonight first.
 “Hello again, Virgil,” he greeted the emo man, holding out his hand. He watched as Virgil smiled and took it, Though he wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or not, Logan was fairly certain that the other’s face was just a bit darker across his cheeks. Damn but Virgil blushing did something to him. 
 “Heya, Logan.” A squeeze of his hand and it was released. Virgil took the empty barstool next to him and nodded in the general direction of the nearest bartender. “What’s your poison?”
 Logan considered. 
 “Scotch over ice, please.” 
 Virgil nodded and waved over a bartender. The bartender introduced herself as Quil and Virgil thanked her before ordering Logan a double shot of Scotch on the rocks and a White Russian for himself. 
 “A White Russian?” Logan inquired as he watched Quil walk away to make their drinks. “I am afraid I do not partake of alcohol usually and when I do drink I don’t usually stray from what I know.”
 “No worries, dude. A White Russian is a mixed drink made with Vodka, Kalua--that’s a coffee liqueur--and cream. It’s sweet but not too sweet like a lot of the other mixed drinks out there.”
 Logan nodded. “Why is it called a White Russian?”
 He watched as Virgil opened his mouth to answer but seemed to think better of it because he closed his mouth a second later. He then seemed to be in thought for a good few moments. A few seconds later Virgil shrugged. 
 “You know, I don’t actually know. I assume it is because it’s Vodka and the recipe gives it a sort of white, creamy color… but don’t quote me on that.”
 Logan considered the assumption and nodded. It definitely had merit, even if it wasn’t the actual reason. 
 “I suppose I can see that.” He nodded and allowed the little smile that tugged on his lips to spread across them. Virgil, his dark eyes meeting Logan’s, smiled back. Logan was very pleased to see the skin of Virgil’s cheeks darken just a bit once more. 
 Their conversation was paused when Quil returned with their drinks. Logan took his drink, eyeing Virgil’s with interest and curiosity. He sipped at his own, humming his pleasure as the rich, almost warm flavor coated his taste buds. A contented smile spread over his lips as the liquid slid down his throat and the drink was soon a steady but short-lived burn deep in his belly. 
 Opening his eyes, Logan caught his current company staring at him. When it was clear he had been caught, the other man blushed. This time there was no question in Logan’s mind that Virgil was blushing. A grin slipped onto his lips but he said nothing, allowing Virgil to glance away to catch his composure before the emo man looked his way again. 
 “So… how exactly do you plan to go about this little challenge?”
 Virgil blinked owlishly at him for a few moments, apparently having forgotten the whole reason they had started talking in the first place. Logan waited, certain it would come back to him soon enough. He was correct in his guess as a moment later, Virgil let out a sound of exasperation. 
 “Oh… yeah. Well, I honestly just planned to sit us down and play music for us to listen to… uh… together…”
 Logan smirked. 
 “What makes you think your company alone will make a difference?”
 Virgil shook his head. 
 “I don’t think my company will make a difference… not really. I do think that my insight into the music might help though.”
 Logan nodded. He had to hand it to the man. Though he was quite obviously not in Science or Medicine or Law, the man seemed to be pretty intelligent. 
 Attractive and smart… there is no way this man is this perfect.
 He did wonder at that. Usually, when people seemed too good to be true, it was because they were. Usually, his instincts were pretty reliable when it came to that and when they weren’t, common sense kicked in. In Virgil’s case, however, Logan felt as if he could already trust him. That didn’t mean he would not continue to be on guard but it did mean he could afford to relax a little. 
 Lifting his drink, he watched as Virgil did the same. He didn’t mean to stare but Virgil was far too fascinating. He was also very attractive. Logan was not used to being so interested in someone. Least of all a stranger. And yet, for some reason, Virgil didn’t feel like a stranger. 
 Uh oh. If he was actually feeling things then that was it. He was too far gone. 
 Remy is right. I am a disaster gay.
 He sighed. 
 Unfortunately, Virgil heard it. Immediately the look in the other’s eyes told him all the worries and fears that were suddenly invading the emo man’s mind. 
 Aha. He’s got severe anxiety.
 Well, that was okay. Logan might not have been in tune with his own feelings most of the time but, when it came to anxiety, typically common sense and logic were great combatants against it. 
 “I’m sorry, Logan. Am I keeping you out too late or--”
 Logan held his hand up and shook his head. 
 “No. I want to be here. If I thought it was too late or if I had not wanted to come, I wouldn’t have.”
 Blunt but to the point. No room for argument.
 Virgil still looked like he wanted to argue but Logan knew his logic was flawless and so the man said nothing. That was not good either though. 
 Logan frowned to see Virgil staring at his drink. Logan glanced at it too and it was then an idea came to him. Sure, it was not his style but he had seen similar flirtation tactics throughout his years as an adult and from the little he knew about Virgil, he was pretty sure this one would work. 
 Saying nothing, Logan reached out and took Virgil’s glass in hand, pulling it toward him. Virgil looked at him incredulously, eyes widening as Logan’s lips closed around the very same straw he had been sipping out from. Though he hadn’t necessarily chosen the tactic to taste Virgil’s drink of choice, the moment the concoction hit his tongue, he let out a happy sound. 
 “Oh. Wow. That really is good.” He smiled Virgil’s way, pretending not to notice the sudden flush of Virgil’s face which was now red enough that even the dimmed atmosphere of the bar could not hide it. Logan tilted his head, looking innocent. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?”
 He then took another sip, this time holding the other’s gaze as he did. Another happy sound escaped him because truly--it was appetizing. Logan licked his lips as he set the glass back down on Virgil’s coaster, gaze still holding that of the other man’s. 
 “Unless you do mind sharing with me?”
   ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆
💀 VIRGIL 💀
“Unless you do mind sharing with me?”
 Virgil was pretty certain that he was dreaming. He had somehow fallen asleep and dreamed Logan agreed to meet him and now that dream had made Logan a flirt and… 
 “Sorry.”
 Virgil blinked and shook his head. 
 “No! No it’s totally fine! Totally cool! No big!”
 Not as if you just indirectly kissed me or anything!
 Except that was exactly what he had done. Still, Virgil did not want Logan to feel as if Virgil minded his company or his tasting his beverage. 
 “We can um… we can share this one and get another after?”
 Virgil couldn’t help the blush that rose in his cheeks once more as Logan smiled agreeably. 
 “Sure. Perhaps you would like a taste of mine?”
 Virgil was so desperate for something to do, he took hold of Logan’s glass, brought it to his lips, and drank. Perhaps a little too deeply. 
 Swallowing hard, he coughed at the sudden intense burn. Setting the glass back down on Logan’s coaster, Virgil quickly drank from his own drink. 
 There’s that indirect kiss.
 Another blush. 
 “Should we flag down the bartender for another?”
 Virgil blinked and looked down at the glass in his hand. 
 “Oh. I didn’t realize I’d finished it.”
 “Well, I may have drank from it at first as a flirtation tactic but it truly is quite satisfactory in taste.”
 Virgil blinked. 
 “You just admitted to flirting with me…”
 This time Virgil caught Logan’s blush and he couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto his face.
 “I just worried that you might be talking yourself out of seeing it so I wanted to confirm… just so there is no question in your mind that I am attracted to you. I am also keeping myself from talking myself out of… whatever this is.”
 Virgil blushed as Logan’s blush doubled. 
 “Aren’t we just a nutty pair?”
 Logan nodded. Virgil smiled and looked away from Logan to flag down a bartender. Quil caught his movements and joined them a second later. 
 “What else can I get for ya?”
 “Two waters and another White Russian please.” 
 Quil nodded and made fast work of creating the beverages. Placing the waters down first, she then placed the White Russian in front of Virgil. 
 Thanking her, Virgil closed out their tab and tipped her. He then turned back to his date and smiled, lifting the glass to sip from the straw before passing it to Logan. He watched as Logan drank a sizable sip before it was passed to Virgil once more. 
 “I was serious, you know?” Virgil began, setting the drink down on its coaster. “About trying to change your mind about music… it wasn’t just an excuse to spend more time with you but… that is definitely a bonus that I don’t feel too bad about exploiting.” 
 He laughed deeply and leaned in closer to the other man who subconsciously mirrored his actions. There was very little space between them now. Virgil took in the other’s stormy grey eyes and the slight bags under his eyes. No doubt from late hours spent up writing. Virgil felt for him. 
 “I know.” 
 Virgil blinked. Logan smirked at him. 
 “It was because you were serious that my interest was piqued.”
 “Oh.” 
 Logan laughed, the sound almost melodic in the way it seemed to caress his eardrums. He shrugged and then slid a little closer to the edge of his barstool. Virgil watched as this caused the other’s knees to press against his own. Swallowing hard, Virgil brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck but forced himself to hold Logan’s gaze. He hoped it was not wishful thinking that the hungry look he saw in those deep grey eyes was there. 
 “Yeah… not every day some random stranger makes it his purpose to change my mind… which, I should warn you is not an easy task. The fact that you are really attractive and funny… those are bonuses for me. Your passion and conviction for music though, that I find very commendable, so I’ll allow you to try to change my mind. Just don’t be surprised if you cannot.”
 Virgil allowed a sheepish grin. 
 “I’m a lyricist. To me, lyrics are every bit the poetry that poets write. Just put to a melody. The melody pulls people in and the words get people to stay. They get people coming back.”
 “Well, now I understand why you were so adamant.”
 Virgil watched as Logan reached for the White Russian, his own beverage forgotten. He sipped deeply, the contented sound leaving him as his eyes met and held Virgil’s gaze. A smirk slowly slipped onto the poet’s lip as he continued to drink. Virgil raised a brow in curiosity but as Logan only continued to drink from the glass, it became clear that he was not going to stop unless Virgil stopped him. 
 “That good, hm?”
 Logan nodded, eyes bright. 
 “Then who am I to stop you.” 
 And then he winked. 
 Of all the stupid things⁠—oh my he blushes so prettily.
 Logan had indeed blushed at his wink.
 “Did you want—”
 Virgil shook his head. 
 “You drink it… I like the idea that I turned you on to White Russians.”
 Logan laughed at that and finished off the beverage.
 “Do you want another?” Virgil asked. 
 Logan shook his head, setting the glass back on the coaster. 
 “No… I actually don’t spend a lot of time in bars or drinking… not that there’s anything wrong with it, of course. Just do not typically have reason to. I do know, however, that I am not ready to end the night here with you… would you want to maybe walk around for a bit? Unless you need to call it a night. It is getting pretty late…”
 Virgil snorted. “For most people, sure. I don’t do a lot of sleeping at night. Insomnia.”
 Logan nodded in understanding. “Same.”
 Virgil left a couple more dollars for Quil and nodded at the door. 
 “A walk, though, sounds great.”
 Logan smiled and Virgil grinned in response. Neither made any motion to move, however, which had Virgil laughing. 
 “One of us is gonna have to move first and—”
 Lips pressed against his own out of nowhere, Virgil’s eyes widening before his brain and body got back on track with one another. Logan’s eyes were closed and so Virgil closed his own, pressing gently into the kiss. Logan was the one to pull away and it was his turn to look sheepish. 
 “Sorry about that… I just… I just really wanted to kiss you.”
 Virgil shook his head. 
 “No! Don’t apologize. I… I enjoyed it… a lot.”
 Virgil and Logan both blushed and giggled. The giggling only set them off more until they were laughing and clinging to each other. When they stopped to catch their breath, Virgil decided it was his turn to be brave and reached out, framing the other’s face with his hand before closing his eyes as he leaned in to kiss Logan a little more deeply this time. The kiss lasted longer than the first, Logan deepening it halfway through which only urged Virgil on. 
 “Ah… so… that walk…”
 Virgil nodded. 
 “Right. Walk.”
 Logan bit his lip and glanced down at his lap before looking up once more. 
 “My hotel is not far from here…”
 Virgil blushed but nodded.
 “Well, I suppose it’s time I walked you home.”
 With that, Virgil slipped from the barstool and, after some consideration, offered his hand to Logan. The man considered but ultimately took it, slipping off his own bar stool to join him. 
 Together, the two left the bar and walked out into the night. 
  ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆
Disclaimer:  The author does not own Sanders Sides or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.
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