#ignore me I just don’t have anywhere to express the thoughts in my head about this

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

The last drop in The Last Drop: Part 2

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

The Last Drop was louder than anywhere Luna had ever been before. The nights were the worst—crowds of people shouting over music, chairs scraping against the floor, and the occasional crash of glass breaking. It was overwhelming at first. Her small hands often clutched Vander’s shirt as she hid behind him as he stood behind the counter, her wide eyes darting toward every unfamiliar noise.

“It’s alright, Lu,” he’d say, his big hand resting on her shoulder. “Nothing to be scared of.”

When he said it, she tried to believe him.

But it wasn’t just the noise. The other kids—Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder—were a whirlwind of energy that made her head spin. Vander wouldn’t let them go out alone at night (yet, when they were older they could, he always said), so they hung around in the evening sitting on a table by the wall, or messing around a little bit. Not that anyone minded, really. Vi was the loudest, always climbing something or chasing Mylo through the bar. Mylo talked a mile a minute, sometimes teasing Powder and now also Luna in a way that made her unsure if he was joking or not. Claggor was quieter but still intimidating with how easily he kept up with the chaos, kind of like Vander in that way.

And then there was Powder. Powder was closer to her size and age, with a wide grin and a streak of curiosity that seemed boundless; she was undoubtedly excited at having someone younger around, as the older kids tended to baby her from time to time. She was the first to approach Luna.

“Do you like dolls?” Powder had asked one afternoon, holding up a patched-together figure with button eyes.

Luna blinked, unsure how to answer. “I… don’t have one.”

Powder’s eyes lit up. “I can make you one!”

The blue haired girl hovered around her, asking endless questions. “Do you like colours? I love to draw! What’s your favourite food? Are you scared of spiders? I’m not. Well, okay, maybe sometimes.”

It was a lot, but Powder’s excitement was easier to handle than Mylo’s teasing or Vi’s confident energy. Vi, on the other hand, took her time warming up to Luna.

“She’s so quiet,” Vi had whispered to Vander one evening, looking at Luna sitting at the table, swinging her legs idly as Powder braided her hair (insisting that she had to wear it like herself). Mylo and Claggor were bickering over a game of cards nearby, their voices blending into the general hum of the bar. “Is she scared of us?”

“She’s just getting used to everything,” Vander replied, while cleaning the inside of a mug. “Give her time.”

“So… she’s going to stay with us? Permanently?” Vi asked, her tone uncertain. She wasn’t really sure how she felt about it. Not that she minded having someone else around, but it was another change. Another person to get used to.

Vander glanced at her, his expression softening. “She doesn’t have anywhere to go or anyone else to take care of her.”

Vi frowned, crossing her arms. She leaned her arms on the counter, her face scrunching in thought. “It’s just… we don’t even know her. What if she doesn’t fit in?”

Vander chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “And what exactly does ‘fitting in’ look like around here, huh?” He gestured toward Mylo and Claggor, who were now arguing loudly over whether Claggor had cheated in their game. Powder, meanwhile, was carefully arranging Luna’s hair into a lopsided braid, ignoring the two boys excellently as she chatted about her favourite toys she wanted to show Luna later.

Vi’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Fair point.”

“Look,” Vander continued, his voice quieter now. “When I found you and Powder, it wasn’t any different. You already knew me, yes, but you were also scared and you had gone through a lot, just like her.”

Vi looked down, her expression softening as she remembered. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And now look at you,” Vander said with a grin, ruffling her hair. “You’re the one making this place feel like home for the others. You’ll do the same for her. Just give it time. She’s going to be one of us, just like you, Powder, and the boys.”

Vi huffed but didn’t protest. “Fine. But she’s not gonna cry all the time, is she?”

Vander chuckled again, shaking his head. “You’d be surprised. That kid’s tougher than she looks, I’m sure of it. She’ll be okay,” he said, almost to himself. His voice had turned low, filled with quiet determination, the kind that always made Vi believe he could do anything. “She’s got us now.”

Vi watched him for a moment, the way his gaze softened as he looked at Luna, the way he crossed his arms over his chest and let out a deep, thoughtful breath. He wasn’t just saying it—he really believed it.

And if Vander believed it, maybe Vi could too.

Vi glanced over at Luna as well, watching her laugh quietly at something Powder had said, her small hands clutching the edge of the table as if she was still anchoring herself to this new world. Maybe Vander was right. Maybe she just needed time.

So, Vi tried in her own way. She offered Luna the better seat when they ate dinner and slowed down when explaining the rules of the games they played to include her.

“Tag’s easy,” Vi said one day, crouching down to Luna’s level. “If you don’t wanna play, that’s fine too.”

Luna hesitated but nodded. Vi grinned, grabbing her hand to pull her into the game.

“You just gotta run fast, okay?” Luna nodded. “Hide so that they don’t find you. If they don’t, you win!”

“But what if you never find me?” she asked, eyes wide showing her frighten.

“We will, don’t worry about that,” Vi laughed a bit, crouching down again to her level to look her into the eyes when she noticed Luna still didn’t seem at ease. “Hey, I promise. I’ll find you. Always. And if not me, then Vander, okay?”

That seemed to do the trick; it certainly did, when Luna would end up winning a lot of times because she would hide in the smallest of places. She would always wait for Vi or one of the others to find her in order leave her hiding spot, though, always making sure they found her.

Claggor was the first to win her over completely. Unlike Mylo’s teasing or Powder’s chatter, Claggor was steady, with a calmness that made him approachable even when Luna was feeling shy or overwhelmed. He was the one who helped Luna feel less lost in the chaos of the Last Drop.

The first time she followed him around the Last Drop, it wasn’t because he’d asked her to—it was because he was working on fixing something at one of the tables, and she was curious. She hovered nearby, not saying anything, just watching as he tightened a loose screw on a wobbly chair leg.

“You want to help?” he asked after a while, glancing up at her with a small smile.

Luna froze, startled. “I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll show you.” He handed her a screwdriver, holding her small hand in his for a moment to guide it into position. “Now turn it, like this. Slowly.”

She followed his instructions, her brow furrowing in concentration as she twisted the screwdriver. When the screw was snug in its place, she glanced up at him, uncertain.

“Perfect,” Claggor said, grinning. “Good job, Lu.”

From then on, she seemed to follow him around whenever he worked on repairs. He never complained, even when she slowed him down by asking too many questions or accidentally dropping tools. When she accidentally tipped over his toolbox, scattering screws and nails across the floor, she was afraid he’d be mad, and immediately scrambled to pick everything up, but he was calm about it.

“It’s okay,” Claggor said, crouching down beside her to help. “Happens to me all the time.”

“Really?” she asked, her wide eyes sceptical.

“Sure,” he said with a wink. “Once, I spilled everything right in the middle of the bar when it was full. Vander nearly tripped over me.”

That made her giggle, and Claggor grinned, satisfied.

When they weren’t fixing things, Claggor had a way of looking out for her without making a big deal out of it. If she was struggling to reach something on the counter, he’d quietly grab it for her. If Mylo’s teasing got a little too much, Claggor would step in with a simple “Knock it off, Mylo” that usually did the trick.

And when she was too nervous to speak up during one of their mealtimes, it was Claggor who noticed and slid the bread basket closer to her with an encouraging nod.

“You don’t have to ask,” he said softly. “Just take what you want. Nobody’s gonna mind.”

Even Mylo softened after a while. Though he still teased her (like most older brothers did to their younger sisters), his jokes became less sharp and more playful. One night, when they were all sitting at the table for dinner, Mylo leaned back in his chair, tossing a pickle from his plate to hers.

“Trade you,” he said.

“For what?” Luna asked cautiously, looking down at the pickle as though it might bite her.

“Nothing. I just don’t like pickles.” He grinned and added, “And you look like you do.”

She wrinkled her nose but took the pickle anyway, nibbling at the edge. Mylo smirked, satisfied, and went back to his meal. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it made her giggle—the first time she’d done so around him.

He remembered his first weeks after Vander had taken him in; he hadn’t been used to having a roof, a bed, food on the table… He had been unsure about everything at first, masking it with roughness and sharp bites whenever someone spoke up to him about it. And although he had grown into a teaser and he thought it was funny to annoy others from time to time, he also wanted to help Luna feel more at ease. He didn’t stop teasing her completely, but the edge in his voice softened. He’d say things like, “Careful, squirt, don’t trip over your own feet,” when she hesitated on the stairs, only to add, “Here, hold the rail like this,” as he showed her how to climb them more confidently.

When she joined the group to watch him and Claggor play cards, he scooted over to give her a better view of the game, though he kept up a running commentary that made her giggle.

“See, Lu, Claggor’s terrible at this. Don’t ever take advice from him about cards,” Mylo said, leaning close as though sharing a great secret.

“Hey!” Claggor protested.

“It’s true,” Mylo shot back, grinning.

“Don’t listen to him Lu, he cheats all the time!”

“I do not!”

“Yes you do!”

Luna only giggled.

One night, as the bar quieted down and they all sat around in the warm, dim light, Mylo noticed her watching him and Powder play a game with a set of battered dice.

“Wanna play?” he asked suddenly, holding up the dice.

Luna blinked. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s easy,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll teach you.” He scooted over to make room for her on the bench, motioning for her to sit beside him. “Okay, so here’s how it works...” For the first few rounds, Luna struggled to keep up, biting her lip in concentration as she tried to understand the rules. Mylo teased her lightly when she made mistakes, but he always followed it up with a quick explanation or a playful grin to show he wasn’t serious.

“See? You’re getting it,” he said after she won her first round. “You might even be better than Powder soon.” Powder protested, glaring at him. “What? Just saying.”

Luna smiled, her confidence growing. It kind of broke the ice. By the end of her first week, she started to feel less like an outsider and more like she belonged, giggling and smiling more often.

By the end of her first week, Luna started to feel less like an outsider and more like she belonged.

It wasn’t sudden, and it wasn’t always easy, but every little moment helped her feel a bit more at home. The way Powder had smiled at her the first time she handed her a piece of bread. How Mylo had tried to teach her how to throw a rock just right in the alley, despite her clumsy attempts. Claggor’s quiet approval when she helped wash the dishes, and even the rare chuckles from Vi when she managed to get something just right in the makeshift kitchen.

But more than anything, it was Vander’s presence that made her feel like she was becoming part of something.

Every night, when the bar quieted down, and the sounds of the busy day faded into a quiet hum, Vander would make time for the kids. Late in the evening, when the others would be settling into their cots, murmuring amongst themselves or falling asleep with their heads buried under old blankets, Luna always waited for the moment when Vander would sit beside her bed, asking her about her day.

It was something she had come to look forward to, the time when the world outside faded away, and she could focus on something—someone—who made her feel like she wasn’t alone in this strange new world.

Luna hugged her blanket tight against her chest, the edges worn and soft. It was a gift from Powder, who had insisted she take it when Luna had no blankets of her own one of the first nights she had spent with them.

“They’re loud,” Luna said quietly, her voice unsure, her eyes still darting over to where the others were gathering nearby, talking and laughing in their own chaotic way. “But… they’re nice.”

Vander’s gaze softened as he watched her, his expression full of quiet understanding. He leaned a little closer, his large frame casting a comforting shadow over her bed. “They are,” he said with a small smile. “They’re your family now, Lu. You’ll see. They’ve got your back.”

Family.

The word seemed so big, so final. Luna didn’t fully understand it. She thought of the people she had met before, the ones who had taken her in for a night or two, fed her scraps, and then sent her away when their patience ran out. But there was something different about Vander’s words. They felt warm, like the sun on a cool day. Not demanding, not overwhelming, but steady.

Luna tucked herself deeper into the blanket Powder had given her, the edges soft against her skin. She glanced over at the others, who were talking about something she didn’t fully understand, but they weren’t laughing at her, or ignoring her. Powder was saying something about a machine she wanted to make with some metal scraps Claggor had given her, her voice animated as she waved her hands explaining it excitedly while Mylo told her to shut up and let him sleep.

Vander’s voice, calm and reassuring, pulled her back to the present. “We’re your family now,” he repeated, his hand gently brushing her hair back from her face. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, not anymore.”

The word didn’t seem as strange anymore. Family.

It felt safe. It felt like belonging. It felt right.

[cloudcountry]

kiss me more (book six spoilers)

SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.

CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.

~~~~~

Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.

And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.

Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet  “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.

Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.

The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”

“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.

“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”

Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.

He shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”

“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”

“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.

He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.

They don’t move.

He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?

“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”

“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.

They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.

And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.

[butterfly-writer]

HEY OMG IM GLAD YOUR REQUEST ARE OPEN!! . Okay so I saw that CLASS 1A x Nomu!Male!Reader oneshot and I was really good !! And I was thinking about one where the M!reader likes Bakugo (he my fav) and he just follows him where ever he goes and Bakugo just don’t mind at all, he even give him head pats , even feed him some of his food. Everyone is just shocked how Bakugo is acting

A New Friend or Pet?

Katsuki Bakugou x Nomu!Male!Reader Summary: Class 1A, loving their new addition to their class, couldn’t help but notice by the fact that their new Nomu friend seems to have a favorite… but who knew it would be the angry blonde?

★☽A/N: REALLY?? I honestly didn’t have much fun making it, but thank you so much!! <33 And I, too, love Katsuki Bakugou <33 Anyways, I’m still recovering from the fact that BNHA is ending in August 5 with their last chapter :(( BNHA had been a huge part of my life and I’m worried that I would grow out of BNHA and have a different favorite :(( But, still, I will forever love BNHA and will help continue the fandom!! Of course, not in the ykyk way…. Especially the tampon thing… ALSO! I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT TOGA IS DEAD, SHIGARAKI’S DEAD, AND DABI/TOUYA IS ON HIS WAY TO DEATH?? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, PLEASEEEEE HORIKOSHI!! AT LEAST LET DABI STAYY, HAVE ERI REWIND HIM OR SOMETHING.

Contents: FLUFF

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

For the next few months, Y/N have been a really friendly and quiet person. Even though he doesn’t talk much, he expressed his emotions using his tail and ears! His ears would twitch in embarrassment, tail wagging in excitement, tail between his legs in worry, guilt, panicked, his tail would be on guard, like a cat, when he’s angry. Of course, his tail would be low if he would be sad.

Everyone in class found him adorable! Like a little puppy! Mineta wouldn’t stop being jealous, saying how he couldn’t believe that all the girls were falling for him! Of course, his statements were ignored by his classmates.

But lately, some of the students had noticed Y/N following around a certain blond…

—

“Stop following me, dragon!” Katsuki yelled out as Y/N tailed behind him. Katsuki was starting to get really annoyed by the dragon-like Nomu boy. Every single day, he had followed the blond to everyone.

Class? He’s right behind him!

Cafeteria? Save Y/N a seat! He’s coming with!

And Katsuki was slowly getting really pissed, always lashing out at Y/N who reacted to it. He didn’t even seem to mind! Every single punch and slap goes unbothered by the Nomu! All he did was stare into Katsuki’s eyes. Katsuki slowly got creeped out, and it’s not common for the blonde to get creeped out by something! But Y/N’s glowing pools of gold-like yellow was giving him shivers down his spine.

He thought, ‘If I continue to ignore him, he’ll leave me alone!’ But he surely thought wrong. Because he got used to the Nomu following him around, considering his wings adjusted and shrinked along with his tail and horns to look less menacing. Even if the blonde didn’t want to admit it, he actually enjoyed having the Nomu following around.

It might’ve even boosted his ego! Having a Nomu following him around made him look powerful- like he just tamed a beast! Even though it was like Y/N had tamed the beast named Katsuki Bakugou.

And slowly, he started to treat the Y/N like a pet. A friend pet, perhaps? Watching the menacing aura that surrounded the poker-faced Nomu follow the tempered blonde around was a rare sight to see. And by now, Katsuki didn’t mind at all!

Sometimes, if he had treats given by some girl or his friends, he would give it to Y/N who happily accepted the treats. Sometimes, if Katsuki was eating chips, he would grab one and offer it to Y/N who ate it out of his hand with a small smile.

And, when the blonde was bored, and out of curiosity, he would give Y/N head pats. It could be anywhere! In class? The black haired Nomu would sit beside Katsuki on the ground and the blonde would pat his head during class. The Nomu’s hair wasn’t exactly the smoothest, it was soft and fluffy when no one helped him with his hair.

And Katsuki, the ever feminist he was (Thank you, Mama Bakugou!) he would braid Y/N’s long hair. It was always a long braided tail that matched his own scaled tail. At the dorms, Katsuki would offer his food to Y/N which distracted him while the blonde braided his hair into a long braided tail.

Everyone was surprised at how calm the blonde was, a total opposite to his tempered side.

But, no one dared to comment and just let the blonde have fun with his new raven-headed friend.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

[inuyashaluver]

Would you do a fic with leah x Reader. Leah being really shy, both before dating and during.

shy - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which your girlfriend is incredibly shy around you - something that surprises your peers completely

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, long ish?

a/n: hiiii, i have such mixed feelings about this one but i tried okay, IM JUST A GIIRRRLLL anyway lmao, ignore me - thank you for the request!! hope you enjoyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if there was one thing to know about your girlfriend, leah, it was that she was confident. leah held herself well, she always maintained eye contact, she was a great speaker and she was incredibly passionate and a great leader.

people spoke highly of leah, she was the confident england captain, european champion and one of the best players in the league. she was anything but shy, she wasn’t even considered shy by anyone that knew her. until a special girl came along and made leah the definition of shy.

—

you were a medic, one of the best in your field. you’d been offered a job for the lionesses back in 2018. that’s where you met leah. during camp, you were brought in late after being shown the ropes and the procedures for the team.

you were then taken to meet the girls, when you walked in the room with your bright smile and excited eyes, leah’s heart stopped. she was sitting with beth at the time, just chatting in the gym and when she stopped talking, beth looked at her in confusion, only to follow her gaze on the new medic for the team.

beth smirked and immediately started teasing the girl, leah’s pink cheeks and sheepish smile gracing her features made it obvious to almost anyone who was paying attention. she thought you were gorgeous, she kept glancing at you as you made your way around the room, your smile and laugh was infectious, she couldn’t help but smile when you did.

when you made your way closer to them, leah began to panic, beth just laughed at the girl’s nervous expression. leah began to sip water and tried to look anywhere but at you “hi, i’m (y/n),” you say softly, holding your hand out to beth and shaking her hand.

“hiya, i’m beth, that’s leah” beth’s smirk never left her face, she shoves leah to look up at you and when she did, leah began to choke on her water, spurring a coughing fit. beth immediately laughs at her, you bend down next to her and place a gentle hand on leah’s back and she slightly tenses. “you okay?” you ask leah concerned, the girl in front of you just nods and tries to wave you off but you don’t move from her.

you begin to rub comforting circles on her back and she stops coughing, she looks at you in awe, her face was warm and she was incredibly embarrassed. “sorry about that, i’m leah” she laughs nervously, internally cursing herself for fucking up just looking at you.

“no, it’s okay, hopefully the next time i see you, you’re not choking” you joke, giving her a light squeeze on her arm and standing up. “see you around, be careful with that water, leah?” you smile, leah just looks at you with wide eyes, nodding her head enthusiastically and spurring a giggle from you. you thought she was gorgeous, you hoped you’d see her frequently.

as you walk away from her, you glance back and smile at her, throwing her a little wave and going back to where your colleagues were. leah waves back and turns back to beth, she was more red than ever. “my little leah has a crush!” beth teases, making kissy faces at her friend. leah scowls, giving beth a shove and flipping her off. “fuck off, beth” she grumbles, returning back to her normal self.

—

it was then time for training, you and your colleagues stood on the sidelines and observed the team, ready to treat any injuries. you couldn’t help but train your gaze on leah, finding her incredibly enticing. leah was serious about training, she kept her attention where it needed to be. the drills went well, she would only look at you when she didn’t have to do anything, only to discover that you were looking at her already.

both of you would sport pink cheeks and stolen glances at each other. it was painfully obvious. then, the girls were instructed for a practice mini game. you obviously knew leah was an amazing player, but watching her this close just proved how good she was. you were awestruck watching her quick movements and expert footwork, watching her with somewhat of a proud smile.

until the girl dived for a tackle and ended up lightly spraining her ankle. when she didn’t get up from the floor, you ran over. “leah, stay still, please” you ask softly, placing your hands on her ankle and extending her leg gently. leah’s mouth was slightly agape as she watched you, she felt no pain at all, all she felt was your warm hand making contact with her skin and she never wanted them to part.

you quickly place an ice pack on her ankle and she slightly winces, you send her an apologetic smile, holding it in place to reduce the swelling. “can you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?” you question, looking into her eyes but she quickly looks away from you. she doesn’t answer immediately, she’s trying to catch her breath after making eye contact with you.

“leah?” she suddenly snaps out of her trance, looking at you quickly, “sorry!” she exclaims, feeling so incredibly warm. “um..like a 3?” you nod in response, slightly adjusting the ice pack. you smile at her again and leah can’t help but smile back at you.

“alright, let me wrap you up and you can chill with me” you take out bandages and tape from your little bag and gently wrap up her ankle, stopping to ask her if she was okay a couple times. leah was encapsulated by you, watching the way you expertly wrap her ankle better than she’s ever experienced and she’s not even being biassed by your pretty face.

you help her stand up, wrapping her arm around your shoulder while you securely hold her waist. it felt so familiar for the both of you, leaning into each other subtly as you help her walk off the pitch.

when you get to the sidelines, you help her sit down and elevate her ankle, giving her a comforting squeeze on her shoulder as you sat beside her. you couldn’t help but notice that her breathing was a little erratic.

“you okay?” you whisper to her, she was focused on the game until she heard your whispers. she looks down at you with a surprised face. “yeah, why?” she stutters, struggling to maintain your eye contact but she feels more comfortable around you.

“you’re just breathing a little irregularly, just checking in” you lightly pat her thigh and she looks down at your hand, you quickly move it away following her gaze and she has a trace of a smile on her lips.

“just a little puffed out from the game” she sighs, sending you a little grin to assure you. after the game was finished, you help leah walk again towards the change rooms. you sit her down in her cubby and smile at her with pink cheeks. “come and find me if you need anything” she smiles and thanks you, when you turn the corner and leave the room, leah groans in frustration.

“fucking idiot” she puts her head in her hands, the girls in the change room were teasing her relentlessly. “i never thought i’d see a shy leah williamson in my life” millie laughs, her and beth being the main sources of the teasing.

“fuck off, i’m not shy” leah says sternly, her face not amused whatsoever. “your stuttering and pink cheeks in front of the pretty medic says otherwise, leah” keira teases, getting a laugh from lucy as leah flips her off. “nah, you’re mad, mate” leah scoffs, beginning to change out of her kit. “so you wouldn’t mind if one of us made a move?” jill jokes, her smile wiping off her face when leah sends her an icy glare.

“point proven, then?” beth smirks, leah shakes her head and hobbles out of the room. when she made it to the hallway, there you were. “back to see me so soon, williamson” you grin, leah sends you a bashful one in return. “hm, maybe” she spoke somewhat confidently, the teasing of her friends giving her some assertiveness. you smile at her surprised, a different tone evident in her voice, it was a little..flirty - you weren’t entirely sure if leah returned the attraction you felt.

—

months go by, leah gaining more ‘injuries’ than ever and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was just doing it on purpose just to see you. her conversations with you were still you doing most of the work but you could tell leah was gaining more and more confidence around you. every time she walked up to you, you couldn’t help but laugh at the teasing she received.

something you also noticed was how leah looked as though she hyped herself up to talk to you. often taking deep breaths before muttering up any sort of courage to even say hi to you. she would often just stand next to you, nervously shifting her weight between her legs until you would spark conversation. she couldn’t bring herself to make the first move - she always made the first move.

when she talked to you, she was incredibly fidgety, playing with the hem of her clothes while you chatted.

when leah talked to anyone, she would do most of the talking. when it came to you, she was a listener. she loved hearing you talk, your soft words making her feel calm and nervous all at the same time. you loved talking to leah, both of you discovering that you had a lot in common.

one day, beth had come up to you and pulled you to the side, you couldn’t miss leah’s angry expression as you were pulled away from her. you send her a smile and her face changes, she smiles back at you and tries to ignore the fluttering in her stomach but she just can’t. her nerves consuming her completely.

“listen (y/n), please put everyone out of their misery and ask leah out” beth pleads, glancing over at leah and back at you. your eyes slightly widen, you follow her gaze to see leah trying to act like she wasn’t paying attention to you and beth but she clearly was.

“are you sure leah likes me?” you ponder, in slight disbelief that she could return your feelings.

“are you joking?” beth laughs, “leah williamson is probably the most confident person i’ve met, yet when you come around, she’s a puddle” you nod your head in understanding, a smile making its way to your face. beth smiles back at you encouragingly, “give her a chance” you nod again, thanking beth for her advice before making your way back over to leah.

she smiles at you before glancing to the floor, swallowing the lump in her throat. “come for a walk with me?” leah snaps her head up at you, pausing for a moment before nodding and standing up, wiping her hands on her jacket and walking along with you. you stand in front of her and look up in attempts to catch her eye, and she manages to maintain her eye contact. her pupils were dilated as she flutters her eyes between yours.

“i wanted to ask you something” blood gently makes surface on your cheeks. “okay” leah lets out a shaky breath, she looks down at her feet for a moment, “sorry” escaping her lips. you make a bold move, slowly moving your hand to grasp hers, she looks up at you surprised, her face completely red as you gently squeeze her hand.

“don’t be sorry” you say softly, smiling at her before making your move. “i wanted to ask if you wanted to go out with me sometime?” leah’s breath audibly hitched, feeling as though she malfunctioned. she pauses and you look at her concerned, maybe you misread the situation.

“shit..you don’t feel the same do you?” you try to slip your hand out of leah’s but she holds on tightly, “yes! i do!” she exclaims, she was certain she was the shade of a tomato. your cheeks turn pink at her volume, “i’d love to” she whispers, running her thumb over the back of your hand. “it’s a date” you smile, leah smiles back, both of you swarmed with butterflies as you look into each other’s eyes.

—

you’ve now been dating for 4 years and you finally met the confident leah that everyone who told you about. leah had you swooning at every opportunity possible. once you made the first move all those years ago, leah handled the rest, surprising you completely.

the only times you notice leah returning to her shy self is when she was in front of her teammates, something you loved to tease her about. everyone knew you were dating, painfully obvious when you both walked in the room. beth smiled so brightly when leah didn’t let go of your hand when you neared the door.

—

in present times, you and leah moved in together. you getting a job offer at arsenal and still working for england. both of you in absolute bliss. leah was getting changed in your shared bedroom, you watch as she rids herself of her kit and changes into something more comfortable. she can feel your eyes on her and her cheeks still turn pink. “stop looking at me like that” she mumbles, faced with your lovesick grin. “like what, baby?” you reply cheekily, cocking your head to the side when she looks at you bashfully.

“like that! i don’t know, lovey dovey” leah jokes and you move to stand in front of her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your chin on her chest, looking up at her adoringly.

“i am lovey dovey for you, beautiful” you pucker your lips up at her and she can feel her entire body on fire. she grins, moving to place a sweet kiss on your lips, moving together tenderly as she pulls you closer to your body. “i love you, my girl” she speaks against your lips, kissing you once more before parting.

“my shy girl, i love you” you say affectionately and leah places her face in your neck, pecking it repeatedly and making you squirm, giggling at feeling her lips graze your skin. “stop it” leah mumbles, sighing and hugging you tightly, lightly swaying your body side to side. “you’re the cutest” you coo, leah pinches your hip and you laugh. “it’s all your fault” she jokes, moving her face out of your neck to face you again, keeping you pressed up against her.

“aw, sorry, baby” you kiss her lips quickly and move your hand up to cradle her cheek, she leans into it and looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

—

once, you and leah were hosting team bonding at your house. you and leah (you) cooked dinner for some of the girls, leah’s job was apparently just wrapping her arms around your waist as you cooked, hugging you gently. “baby, i can’t do much when you’re holding me like this” you giggle, contracting your words as you lean into her body.

“but you’re warm” she hums, her cheek resting on yours. you were in your own world until beth came in, “oh my god, lovebirds! viv, look!” beth teases, viv standing next to her with an apologetic smile. leah groans and thumps her head on your shoulder, begging beth to leave. you feel her warm body on yours. “oh, beth, leave them” viv mouths a sorry to you, dragging beth back to your living room.

after you all ate, leah set up a movie for everyone to watch. you were cleaning up the kitchen despite the protests of leah, but it only took a couple minutes. when you came to the living room, there was literally no where to sit, leah smiles so brightly as you enter the room, ignoring the snickers coming from beth in the corner.

you grin and move to sit on her lap. she welcomes the contact, placing one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. the boldness of the gesture had leah grinning. you kiss her cheek when you’re seated and giggle when you feel it grow warm under your affection.

“aw, she’s all shy now!” jen teases, gaining laughs from pretty much everyone in the room. you smile and cradle leah’s head to your chest, she leans into you completely, feeling as though she can tune out all the teasing just with you holding her. you move to whisper in your ear, “don’t be shy, baby,” your lips graze the shell of her ear and she tenses, squeezing your thigh almost warningly. you let out a little gasp, holding her arm that was squeezing your thigh and running your nails over it.

“i’ll show you shy, baby girl” she whispers in your ear, kissing it gently before pulling away to see your flustered face. team bonding was cut short that night, everyone left after feeling the tension in the room between you and leah. leah williamson is anything but shy, and she showed you that.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by bethmead_ and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: call the pretty medic, my acl is playing up again (joke)

view all comments

yourname: you don’t need to make up excuses to see me

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i’m making it fun, baby!

↳ yourname: your acl was not. funny.

↳ leahwilliamsonn: joke, baby, just a joke

↳ yourname: hm

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i love you

↳ yourname: i love you too, i guess

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i guess?!

bethmead_: leah and (y/n) sitting in a tree

↳ jbeatie91: K

↳ bethmead_: I

↳ jbeatie91: S

↳ bethmead_: S

↳ keirawalsh: I

↳ mbrighty04: N

↳ leahwilliamsonn: G

[jeansplaytoy]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥

part seven.

i’m back and better than ever (kind of).

no proof read yet , smut , sexual references , cursing , arguing , angst(?) , everything that’s always in my stories .

part six here | part eight here

unbearable. to sit in a car all night when all you wanted to do was have a good time? yeah, unbearable.

“this is so fuckin’ stupid.” you mumbled, crossing your arms and leaning on the door of the car. “and you’re childish. all you do is fight, but you want freedom.” he shook his head and scrolled on his phone.

“i’m sober.”

“and im sitting in the backseat.”

“you’re in the front.”

“and you’re not sober.”

you squinted at connie. you couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you stayed quiet. for like… 5 seconds. “can you take me home?” you asked. connie looked at you in the dark rear view mirror. “you sure? don’t be complaining when you get there either.” he mumbled, focusing back on his phone.

“i wanna go drinkkkk.” you whined, tapping the seat.

“no. you can’t control yo emotions when you drink.” connie shook his head. “and you not finna be in there gettin drunker than you already is.”

“okay i just wanna have a good time.” you rolled your eyes lazily. “you expect me to believe that shit?” he looked back at you. “you can watch me. i won’t do nothing. i promise.” you raised your eyebrows with a small smile.

connie’s lip twitched and he sighed. “we not gon be here for more than bout an hour. you better do whatever you wanna do, then we leaving. ight?”

you nodded with a smile while connie unlocked the door for you after he got out. you grabbed your heels and slipped them back on, nearly tipping over when you stood up. before you could roam off anywhere, he grabbed your hand, letting you lead him to where you were going.

“do we really have to hold hands?” you mumbled, walking beside him with a bored expression. “nah.” connie said, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulder.

you looked up at him before sighing inaudibly and walking back in the house. everyone looked at you, seems like there were more people there than the first time, but you didn’t care.

when connie looked to the side, he saw that same girl in the corner. seemed like she was still mad. “let’s go upstairs real quick.” he mumbled in your ear. you looked at him with a confused expression. “for what?”

“youn need to be getting in no more trouble down here.”

you stopped in your tracks and crossed your arms. “is that the real reason you wanna take me upstairs?” you squinted. your thoughts from earlier started to come back to you. he wasn’t just gonna fuck you whenever he wanted.

connie squinted. “yes. now come on.” he looked around, noticing the girl unknowingly getting closer to you two. before you could argue, he dragged you up the stairs, nearly tripping you on the way up.

“i don’t wanna go upstairs i wanna drink.” you held on to the side of the stairs. connie smacked his lips. “do you wanna getcho ass whooped y/n?” he looked back at you, opening the door to the same room you two first got… physical in.

“no, cus a bitch can’t beat me regardless-”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence. connie closed the door behind the both of you and locked it, standing against it.

“aw hell naw. you think i’m finna let you get in my panties again?” you frowned. “let me out.”

“no.”

“connie, i am so deadass i’m not bouda sit here and let you kiss me and touch me and do whatever the fuck we did whenever you feel like it, then ignore me for another one or two weeks.”

connie threw his head back against the door. “man… shut up.”

“shut up because i ain’t finna let you use me-“

“bruh what the fuck is you talkin bout?” you could hear the irritation in connie’s voice, and the sober corner of you told you to just shut up, but you were still drunk.

“what i just said. you’re not about to fuck me again and then leave-“

“y/n ion wanna fuck you.”

“yes you-“

“no—the fuck i don’t. i’m tryna keep yo ass outta trouble, cause you too fucking stupid to realize every time you go out you be in some bullshit-“ you opened your mouth to say something back. “nah, listen. you too stupid to realize you always in some shit, and if you get hurt you gon be complaining like you always is.”

now he was actually starting to get mad. you wouldn’t shut up.

“let me out.”

you tried to push past connie, but obviously he’s way stronger than you. “let me out!”

that’s when you felt him grab your arm and push you back on the bed. “that’s yo fucking problem, you don’t listen. you so fuckin childish, people tryna be here to have a good time and yo ole stupid ass and that bitch steady fighting. don’t nobody wanna hear that shit all the time.” he started raising his voice. “sit the fuck down. ion wanna fuck you, ion care shit bout that. you steady sittin here tryna argue, you don’t fuckin listen.”

you stared at him.

“ain’t no reason i gotta sit here and really treat yo ass like a big ass baby cause you can’t control yo liquor. i’m tired of that shit bruh.”

you didn’t even feel like talkin back, cause he wasn’t gon listen. you failed to realize that your face was starting to get wet because of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you sniffed and huffed.

connie backed up and stared down at you, bitting his top lip. you sniffed even more and hummed, wiping your tears, some of your mascara from your bottom lash coming off with it, along with your eyeliner.

you sat back on the bed and looked at connie again. you couldn’t really read his face, not only because of your teary eyes, but because of his blank expression.

until you blinked once more, you noticed he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. he was staring at the ceiling.

you swallowed and moved to the end of the bed to take off your heels. surprisingly, you continued to cry. you didn’t even know it. connie then looked down at you again.

you then stood up, now standing in front of him.

he sighed and wiped the stained marks from your cheeks and eyes. with one hand in his pocket, and the other on your face, he licked his lips.

out of all the shit you talked, and the things you said, you looked at his lips. you bit yours and trailed your hands up his shoulders and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in. he knew it was probably wrong to be intimate right after you said he was using you, but shit.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose in your neck.

you did the same. except when you did it, you couldn’t help but put your lips on his neck. not even a kiss. you just needed to feel it.

eventually, which wasn’t long, promise, you softly kissed connie’s neck. you moved your hands to the back of his head, ignoring the red lipstick stains you left on his neck, and started to kiss up his jaw.

you pulled back and moved back to the bed, holding his hand to lead him with you. he moved on top of you, making you automatically slightly open your legs to make space for him.

as you laid back, he saw a single tear drip down the corner of your eye. wiping it before it reached your ear, he kissed your cheek. under your eyes—both of them, and then kissed your lips.

he barely gave you time to kiss back as you closed your eyes and rubbed his back. he kissed down your face, neck, chest.

“you know ian wanna make you cry ma.” he said in between kisses.

you didn’t say nothing back, but you heard him. “you know i care about you.” he whispered, starting to give you hickeys on your neck and chest. “i just…” he kissed your lips again. “ion wanna get attached.” he sat up, pulling your legs closer to him.

he massaged your thighs and moved his hands up to your waist. then he moved from your waist to your chest, undoing your outfit down the middle before helping you get it halfway off. he leaned down to kiss your stomach, glancing up at you with every few kisses, just to see that look on your face.

“you just…” he moved back up to your face, spreading your legs further as you started to close them. “you be pissin me off sometimes.” he moved his right hand down to your panties, which were already almost soaked.

he rubbed his middle finger along your panties, making you arch your back, only a little. connie stared at you with bored eyes, but he definitely wasn’t bored. he then licked his lips, moving his hand up, then down in your panties.

“you love lace. ima remember that.” he said, moving his finger along your wet folds. you softly moaned, closing your eyes and biting your lip.

he moved his hand away from your pussy and licked his middle finger, making you open your eyes. the look on your face just drove him crazy. the way your brows furrowed when what you wanted to happen, didn’t happen. yet.

he put his thumb in front of your lips as you looked him in his eyes. “suck it.” he mumbled. you did as he said. what else could you do? “good girl.” he muttered, moving his hand back down inside your panties.

he put his thumb on your clit, softly pressing down on it, making you moan a little louder than you did at first.

he slowly started to rub your clit, sticking his middle finger inside of you at the same time. “ah, fuck…” you moaned softly as connie started to kiss you again. he was moving his fingers so slow, but it felt so good.

he slipped his tongue in your mouth as you kissed, slightly moving his hips against his own hand as he slowly fingered you.

your kisses started to get sloppier by the second. “you like that?” he whispered against your lips. you quickly nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck like before, moving your hips against his fingers.

that’s when he pulled his fingers out of you, unexpectedly sticking them in your mouth. as you tasted yourself, connie pulled your outfit off the rest of the way, undoing his pants with his other hand.

you didn’t even realize he was starting to slip his self into you, until he put the tip in. he moved his hand from your mouth to your neck, rubbing it with his thumb.

you slightly whimpered.

“it’s too big, pa. it won’t fit…” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“if wasn’t too big a few weeks ago.” he replied, stretching you out more and more by the second. you painfully moaned as connie’s thumb started to rub your cheek.

“you good… shit..” connie threw his head back for a second before moving closer to you. you grabbed his shirt to pull him closer to you. while he moved closer, he grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers, pinning them down to the bed as he started to move his hips.

“yeah..” you looked up at him. his eyes were closed at first. a few thrusts in, he looked at you. you could barely function because of the pleasure, it felt like it was all over your body. it’s been so long.

as he looked into your eyes, making noises he didn’t even know he was making, the same with you, you felt your eyes start to water again. you slowly started nodding. you didn’t know why. you just did.

connie leaned down to kiss you again, holding on to your hand tighter, thrusting at the same pace but harder. “fuck, connie..” you moaned softly. “i hate you so much…” you moaned again, making connie close his eyes and groan a little.

“i’m sorry.” he muttered, putting his face in your neck again. he could barely hold your hand. he tried to, but it felt like he was losing all his strength.

your eyes rolled to the back of you head and you moved your hips with connie’s. “you know ion be meaning to do you like that…” he said against your neck as he started kissing it again.

“uh huh..” you said softly. you didn’t know if you were replying to him or reacting to the feeling he was giving you. he moved his hand to your neck, slowly starting to thrust faster, making you moan louder by the second. “i like you for real…” he softly moaned against your ear.

“i…” you couldn’t get your words out clearly because of the grip he had on your neck. connie moved away from your ear and looked down at you, his grip on your neck didn’t change at all. you looked up at him with glossy eyes.

you held his wrist, feeling yourself come closer and closer to an orgasm. “i… like you too.” you mumbled enough for connie to hear. connie furrowed his eyebrows, nodding slowly before groaning softly.

you moaned one more time before finally feeling yourself finish with him, both of you out of breath as he let go of your neck.

connie leaned down to rest his head on your chest for a few seconds as you started to rub his back and head.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you.

there wasn’t anything else to say. seemed like it.

he got off of you and fixed his self, letting you put your jump suit back on. “you ready to go?” he mumbled, looking at his neck in the mirror as you put your heels back on.

you silently nodded.

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 7

Description: You catch up with Gabi and Emma, Todd is an ass over text and the O'Haras give you a gift.

Pt 8

You were kneeling down on the wooden walkway, a fake bridge designed to imitate what the builder of the zoo thought the jungle villages of Africa looked like, talking quietly to Gabi and Emma.

“Girls I know you’re excited to see the hippos, but you can’t run away like that, what if either of you had gotten hurt? I was so worried about you two, and I’m sure your friends, and Mr. O’Hara, were as well.” You explain softly, holding one of their hands in one of yours, and keeping your expression calm to keep them calm.

“We’re sorry.” Gabi says, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

“We’re sorry, Ms. Y/N.” Emma begins to cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

You coo at them and pull them into a hug. “It’s okay, you just have to be more careful next time.”

The sound of footsteps, four sets of small feet, and one larger set, the sound of which you’ve strangely come to recognize.

“Are they okay?” Miguel asks, his voice is rich with concern, and you feel him kneel beside you, his large hand resting on Gabi’s shoulder.

“Everyone is just fine, we just got a little overwhelmed, huh?” You direct the second half of your answer towards Gabi and Emma, who pull away and nod, sniffling a little.

“¿Estás bien, Mija? ¿Estás herida?” Miguel’s hands were cupping her face, thumbs smoothing over her tearstained cheeks. Trsl: Are you okay, are you hurt?

Gabi nodded her head. “Estoy bien, Papá.” Trsl: I'm okay/good, dad

He breathes a sigh of relief and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Never run off like that again, you know the hippos aren’t going anywhere.”

She nods again, but is still pouting, and the two of them together is an adorable sight.

You feel a pang of longing right as your phone buzzes in your back pocket. You release Emma and begin to guide the group towards the hippos, fighting the urge to throw your phone into the nearest exhibit.

Todd has been texting you all day. First to bitch at you for leaving him wasted in his apartment, three weeks ago, then for ignoring his calls the next day, then he was mad because you wouldn’t let him chaperone, even though, he didn’t actually want to go, and it wasn’t your fault, the school has rules.

He’s sent you a photo, the one the whole first grade took at the zoo’s entrance. The one you’d very quickly—offhandedly, uploaded to your social medias to mark the occasion.

Todd: I thought you said men weren’t allowed to chaperone? Was that just an excuse, so you could fuck somebody else without me knowing?

He had circled Miguel in the photo, like a crazy person.

Y/N: I said male non-family members are not allowed to chaperone, that’s a parent of one of my students. We are not having an affair, and I would never abandon my students to do something so inappropriate.

He always did this, always got so jealous of any guy who was around you for even a minute. It was exhausting.

He left you on read, and you bite your tongue, trying to keep calm as you slide your phone back in your pocket.

“Gabi told me it was your birthday a few weeks ago.” Miguel says casually.

Your stomach drops. “Oh yeah?”

“I feel bad, usually Gabi and I get her teachers flowers on their birthday, but I was out of town for work, so I guess we missed it.” He towers over you, but you don’t feel unsafe, in fact you feel strangely protected.

Miguel looks so good in that cheesy field trip T-shirt, it stretches across his chest, and clings to his arms in a mouthwatering way. He looks down at you, a sheepish smile on his face.

“We hoped maybe this would make up for it?” He hands you a daisy shaped pendant, it’s beautiful, and well-made.

“I—I can’t accept this; it looks way too expensive.” You try to give it back to him, but he shakes his head and closes your fingers around the pendant, his hand dwarfing yours.

“It wasn’t expensive at all. Gabi found the necklace when we visited one of the farmer’s markets in the city. Daisies are her favorite flower, and she wanted to get you a birthday gift…and I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for her. I mean, it’s still the first half of the school year, and I’ve never seen her be so fond of a teacher…” His hand is still covering yours, and you’re frozen in place but basking in the praise.

“Well, it is beautiful, and if it’s not expensive then I can’t turn down a gift from one of my best students now, can I?” You joke lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Miguel releases your hand and motions for you to turn, sweeping your hair up with one large hand, the other clasping the necklace around your neck. “It would break her heart.” He breathes, his warm breath on your neck making you shiver.

You want him. Fuck, you want him bad.

“Can’t have that.” You whisper, breathless and resisting the urge to lean into his strong chest.

“Ms. Y/N, you’re wearing my gift!” Gabi notices so quickly, weirdly quickly, for a moment you wonder if they planned this.

“I am, it’s very pretty, thank you.” You finger the pendant, it is absolutely beautiful, maybe the nicest gift anyone’s ever given you, definitely better than anything Todd’s given you.

“Now you gotta promise me you’ll never take it off.” Gabi pleads, giving you those puppy dog eyes she does so well.

You pretend to think it over, then nod your head. “Alright, deal.”

She lets out a squeal of happiness and runs back to her friends.

“She’s so good at that.” You remark, turning back to Miguel.

“Good at what?” He asks, his eyes keep drifting back to the pendant, where it sits between your fingers as you absentmindedly toy with it.

“Those puppy dog eyes, it’s so hard to say no to her.” You feel a rush of boldness and drop the pendant. “Did she learn that from you?”

Miguel’s eyes shot up to yours. “Beg pardon?”

“The puppy dog eyes.” You smile at him, a carefully crafted carefree smile meant to make the receiver feel comfortable, to get them to let their guard down.

“Oh, no, no, she learned that all on her own.” He laughs, and the sound is like syrup, muddling your thoughts with a thick sugary sweetness.

You remember his words when you admire the necklace in the mirror, the day is done, you’ve showered, and now you’re getting ready for bed.

You’re not a vain person by any means, but you can’t help but admire how it shines against your skin, as you stand bare, fresh from the shower. It hangs a bit between your breasts, the metal is sturdy, and no matter what Miguel says it’s not cheap. There’s no fake metal smell, or green staining your skin.

You spend a little longer staring at it, running your fingers along the edge, feeling each petal’s edge. It wouldn’t hurt to keep it on, at least for a little while, until Gabi forgets all about it.

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard

[giggly-squiggily]

I just KNOWWWW Akazas stripes are so ticklish! They have to be! Anything Lee Akaza throw my way 😫

I. Love. This. Headcanon. I love it! My god I can't even begin to count the ways I adore this silly thought of Akaza having the most ticklish stripes on the planet! I've gotcha covered, anons!

Cloud 9 (Taglist peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @t-wordiiish @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @giggly-toybox

Kokushibou tried to be subtle in his staring. Hard to do given he had six eyes, but he tried all the same.

Before him, Akaza was spacing out, openly ignoring Douma and his constant chatter. Leaned back on his arms, his bright blue stripes were on proper display for all to see. Normally such a sight wouldn’t entertain the highest moon, but after recent events, they were the only thing on his mind.

“He gets so giggly when you trace them!”

He had heard about Akaza’s supposive ticklish stripes. It seemed almost everyone within the Kizuki had tried it at least once, earning various reactions from the red headed demon. Most walked away with temporary injuries; the exception being Rui. Akaza’s soft spot for the spider was as clear as the blue within his markings.

Once again, he found himself staring. So long so when he looked up, Akaza was staring back.

Silence. Moments passed that felt like hours at their stare down. Eventually, Akaza looked away. He always did first.

Kokushibou blinked, his attention shifting once more to Douma nearby. He was staring now, a knowing look in his eyes and a teasing smile.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached out and traced one of his long nails against a stripe.

“Sh-” Akaza all but jerked at the touch, twisting to snarl at the blonde. Douma laughed like a child, unfazed as he was grabbed and shaken by the angry demon.

That settled it. Kokushibou had to see what this was all about.

~~~

It took awhile, but eventually Kokushibou had him just where he wanted him.

“This better be important. What do you want, anyway?” Akaza growled as he sat before the demon, voice only just shaking beneath his anger.

Kokushibou decided to ignore it as he carried on with his plan. “I wish to ask a favor of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It seems everyone else has had a turn trying it, but I’ve yet to myself.” He leaned forward for emphasis, eye glinting with intrigue. “Would you be so kind as to let me have a go?”

Akaza blinked, taking in what he was saying. When it finally hit, he scrambled back- wide eyed and sputtery. “W-Whoa whoa hang on! Who told you- why do you- absolutely not!” He folded his arms across his chest, pulling his vest over himself even tighter. “There’s no way I’m just gonna sit there and let you-”

“I won’t force you.” Kokushibou cut in, calm as ever. “You and I both know if I wanted to do that, I’d already have you on the floor. I’m that much stronger than you.”

Akaza rolled his eyes at the reminder, still guarded. Kokushibou held up a hand in surrender.

“I assure you I have no intentions of testing it without your consent. If you truly don’t want me to do it, I’ll leave you be.” Kokushibou folded his hands once more, flat against his knees in a show of honesty. “That is all I have to say.”

Akaza stared, trying to find the lie in the demon’s teeth. There was none. Kokushibou was being genuine. A rare thing among them, but it did its job at lowering his walls. Groaning low, he came closer until he was sitting beside the six-eyed demon. “Five minutes.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kokushibou blinked.

“Five minutes. I’ll give you that much time to have your fill tickling me. After that, we never talk about this again.” Akaza wouldn’t look at him, but his expression was clearly a reluctant pout. “Fair enough for you?”

Kokushibou stared. “Are you certain?”

“I wouldn’t still be sitting here if I wasn’t.” Akaza gestured him to get on with it, his pout deepening as he looked anywhere but there. “Times a ticking- get your fill and I’m out.”

“Wouldn’t it be more fair to only start the clock when I actually tickle you?” Kokushibou asked, amusement touching his tone as he turned on his knees, reaching out. Before Akaza could respond, he trailed a single finger along the bright blue band against his bicep.

“Eeeh!” Akaza jerked at the touch, frowning lips twitching. Kokushibou did it again. “Ehehem-mmph!” He bit his lip, trying to muffle the sound of his growing giggles building up in his chest.

“Just a touch and you’re already laughing.” The six eyed demon mused, daring to add a nail to the mix. “Is this your worst spot, or are you just anticipating what’s to come?”

“Shuuhuht up! Gahhaha!” Akaza went to swing at him, but Kokushibou was far too fast. He easily grabbed the fist coming his way with one hand, raising it up and giving himself more access to tickle spots. “Nohohoho, don’t! Gehahaha, yoohohu fuhuhucker!”

“Such language. I hope you don’t say such things infront of Rui.” Kokushibou chided as he clawed his fingers, dragging them along the stripes lining Akaza’s side. The reaction was near instant- the redhead went tumbling to the right with a loud cackle. “Knowing you, however- I shouldn’t worry about such things. You’ve always had quite the soft spot for him.”

“Whahahht’s thahahhat suhuhuhhoohohohsed to mehahahahen? Jehehahhaalous muhuhuhuch?” Akaza snarked through his laughter, torn between blocking with his free arm or swinging with the other.

“A little bit.” Kokushibou didn’t elaborate. Instead he dared a finger down the center stripe along Akaza’s chest. Akaza all but flew backwards at the touch, barking out a shrill laugh.

“GAHHAHA!” Losing all balance, Akaza hit the ground back first as he flailed about, shrieking with mirth while Kokushibou closed the gap. Fingers carried on tracing the lines along his torso, unyielding and devastatingly ticklish. “SOHOHOHOON OF A BIHIHIHIIHTCH! YOHOHOHOOHU SIHIIHIHXED EHEHEHEYED FREAHHAHAHK, CUHUHUUHUT IT OHOHOHOUT!”

“It seems tickling makes you more bold.” Kokushibou chided without malice, a rare smile pulling at his lips as he focused his efforts on the stripes running along his upper ribs, making Akaza flail and go near silent with mirth. “Six-eyed freak, huh? Is that what you call me when I’m not around?”

“GAHAHAHAH! I’M SHAHAHRRY! I’M SHAHAHHARRY NOW STAHHAHAHAP!” Akaza all but shrieked, voice fading in and out as he threw a tantrum against the ground. He was sure he looked a right mess, eyes wet and face aching from that ever permanent smile. He wanted to rip off his skin and shake out the feeling until it was gone in the wind.

And yet- a part of him was having fun. A small part of him- ever present. Damn his once beating heart for enjoying this.

“Has it been five minutes already? Shame, and I was just getting to the good part.” Kokushibou hummed as he pulled away, folding his hands neatly in his lap while he watched Akaza roll around with a groan. “I found that quite enjoyable though, Akaza. Thank you for letting me have a turn.”

“Ugh, whatever. You’re just lucky I’m nice.” Akaza quipped back. The words stunned him though- a memory of himself saying that same exact phrasing to a young woman flashing through his mind.

“Akaza?” Kokushibou asked, his teasing tone fading into one of concern. Akaza blinked, reaching up and holding his brow.

“I’m fine.” He assured, sitting up quickly and facing the older demon. “I’m fine, really. Just…this whole thing is weird. You’re weird.” He winced some- he sounded like a bumbling fool. “Not that..that’s really a bad thing though.”

Kokushibou’s various eyes widened, taken aback by the comment. Akaza quickly twisted on his heels to escape. “You remember the deal! This never happened, you hear me bug eyes?”

He ran before he could be caught, flying down the halls and towards his usual hideout. Maybe it was his exhaustion, but he swore he could hear the faintest of chuckles from the room he escaped.

Yeah. Definitely his imagination.

Thanks for reading!

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Hi, I love your writing! I'm not sure if you are doing the erotic horror prompts anymore but if you are, then may I request a Prompt 9 OR 34 with John Wick?

Hi, thank you so much, Anonymous. It means the fucking world to me!!! Allow me to express my gratitude with some predator/prey:

(I know these are supposed to be horror, but I keep turning them into fluff. Please forgive me🥺❤️)

“So, the first rule of self defense is run,” John says, giving her a heavy, doubtful side eye that speaks volumes about his faith in her to do so. 

“Second?” She asks, arms crossed, foot tapping, watching him stalk circles around her like he’s going to drop her at any moment - her heart patters wildly every time she sees his step slow or his eyes move to a vulnerable part of her body, even though she knows that whatever “tells” he exhibits are actually fakeouts and dead ends. Just a way to get her nerves worked up so that she’s taking him seriously.

He stops in front of her, places a finger in the center of her chest, and she knows he could give a little push and she’d be flat on her ass.

But he doesn’t. He smiles. “Hide.”

She rolls her eyes. “The third?” 

“Fight. And -“ he moves his finger against her bare skin, drawing her eyes and attention, then flicks her lightly on the forehead as punishment for falling for it. “Don’t roll your eyes at your superior.”

She rubs the pink mark. “Ow,” she tells him, even though the trick only stung a tiny bit. 

“Now say, “yes, master.”” His eyes light with mischief. 

Every piece of her fucked, masochist body wants to fight him on that if only to earn more brutality for it. But this is supposed to be critical training, even though her trainer isn’t taking it as such.

She figures that she’ll be the determined one, for once, so she tips her head, straightens her shoulders, and says, “yes, master.”

His eyebrow raises behind untamed bangs. “Good.”

“Did you take that from a job orientation class?” She asks him.

“What?”

“At jobs, they use the ‘run, hide, fight’ for active shooters.”

He shakes his head no, but it’s so hard to tell when and if he’s fucking with her…

“Have you ever had a normal job?” She wonders aloud. 

He shrugs. “Then you already have the basics down. Excellent.” He continues circling. “Start small,” he says. “Then, work your way up.” 

She nods, although annoyed with being ignored, continue.

“So, we start with running.” 

She cringes. The mere thought of him watching her run laps is painfully embarrassing. 

Wanting to impress and not kill this before it even gets started, she keeps her mouth shut. 

“I’ll give you a minute head start.” 

Wait, what did he say?

She almost laughs. “We’re racing?”

His grin is worrying. “No, I’m chasing you.” 

In that case, she wants to ask for at least a five minute head start; eyes his thick, long legs. The taut muscle is visible shifting and tensing, even under his baggy sweatpants.  

“You’re going to catch me,” she tells him, wanting to argue about this being unfair. 

“Then you’d better start running,” he replies, flipping his wrist over to check the ticking time. 

“What - where am I allowed to go?” Cool sweat collects at the nape of her neck. 

“Anywhere.” He’s still looking at his watch, waiting patiently. 

“When are we starting?” 

His eyes flit up, glint at her, then focus back on the dwindling time. “Five seconds ago.”

Prickling anticipation drives her to argue. “How is that going to help me? Just running all day so you can keep catching me? Pretty soon I’ll get tired and will just give up and let you catch me.” 

“Oh, that’s what I forgot to mention,” John murmurs.

Anger anxiety cocktail spikes. Forgot to mention? There’s a lot of shit that he’s conveniently forgetting to mention.

“If I catch you, I tickle you.” His grin grows into a sharp-bladed tip.

“John,” she says, voice worried, which delights him. “That is not fair. You’re going to catch me and you can’t just tickle me all day when you do.” 

He’s a reasonable man. He’ll see her issue. She’s valid in her concerns, and they both know it. 

“Yes I can.” 

“Are you serious?!” 

“Uh huh.” He taps his watch face. “Thirty seconds.” 

Her shoes slip on the cushiony matts, landing her on her knees before she can start bolting.

He resists the urge to go to her. Thankfully, she’s not down for long, or else his concern would get the better of him. 

She stands and runs. Up the stairs, already panting and sweating, adrenaline an ache that builds higher the farther away she gets from him. 

Out the door of the gym, down the hallway, trying not to fall again and losing precious time because of it.

She’s in the cold before she knows what she’s doing. Her t-shirt does nothing to cover her from the frost, but fear and physical exertion help her stay warm. 

Down the left block, then ducking through an alleyway, wondering if he’s on her tail by now. 

Blessedly, there’s no snow on the ground, so she’s not leaving any footprints. Also, that means she can go faster and not have to worry about falling. 

She rushes a corner and almost takes out an older man walking his dog, so, of course, she has to stop and profusely apologize.

“It’s fine, dear,” he chuckles.

She pats his friendly Labrador on the head. “Are you sure?” She looks him over, and he seems okay. Her memory says she ran smack dab into his frail frame, but maybe it’s just her psychosis acting up again. 

“I’m alright, dear, where is your coat? Your skin is ice cold.”

“Oh, I left it at home, just going for a jog,” she replies, trying to be casual. 

His fluffy dog pushes a wet nose into her hand and nuzzles her out of more attention.

“This is Sam,” the older man introduces. “He is very friendly.”

“He’s amazing,” she says, using both hands to stroke blonde, cold fur. 

“Are you training for a marathon?” The man asks. “I hear there’s a big one by Macy’s next week.” 

“No. Just exercising.” She smiles up at him, wondering how to politely break this conversation off and save her own ass. 

Behind him, about half a block down, is her pursuer and teacher.

It would be better if he looked disappointed. So, so much better. 

Her hand stills on Sam’s head. 

That expression would be a glare if his mouth wasn’t pulled up at the seams. His eyes of brilliant brown are blown black. Like a shark. No, too intentional to be a shark - it isn’t pure hunger that drives him. 

Gotcha.

Fear is the only thing she’s capable of feeling for a couple of seconds as she forgets what, exactly, is going on while an instinctual and ancient part of her remembers what it’s like to be hunted.

She’s going to feel really bad, later, about turning away from a nice man and his dog without so much as a goodbye and sprinting the opposite direction.

That trepidation just coils tighter the more she runs. She wasn’t built for this. Her legs are too short, her body too pillowy to gain any sort of momentum, her lungs too small for the air required in running. 

It’s nothing but luck and adrenaline carrying her down crossroads and alleys. 

She spares a glance behind her, and almost feels like she’s winning when she doesn’t see John. 

It’s because he’s in front of her. 

At the end of the gravelly side street, lounging lazily on the wall. 

Michael fucking Meyers, that’s what this reminds her of. You never see him moving, but somehow he’s always catching up to you. 

She almost falls again when turning around to dash the other way, but manages to keep a shaky, vertical grip on earth.

John surpasses her, the easy stride of his legs infuriating, and plants himself in her path so that she runs smack into his chest. 

There’s no time to get away. He already has her biceps gripped tight. 

She winces, writhes, glower resembling more of a pout. 

“When you run,” he says, kissing her head with a soft mouth that contradicts his hard grip. “You zigzag. Go every direction. Never in a straight line. Never predictably. You have to not think about where you’re going, but focus wholly on your destination.”

“Helpful tips that I should have known earlier?” She tries, grinning dryly.

He chuckles. “If I just tell you, you won’t learn. Which reminds me: Let’s take you home and get you warm. I owe you some merciless tickling, don’t I?”

“I was hoping you’d forget,” she groans. “Second chance?” 

“You’ll get plenty of chances,” he assures, leading her back to where she came with a big arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm.

[stillfoodforguys]

It was late at night, and I had a long drive ahead of me returning from visiting my family. I pulled into a nearby truck stop to take a break; already intimidated by all the vehicles parked up that were so much larger than mine, I was even more tense walking past all the drivers who were just as massive. Ignoring their staring and sneering at the puny guy who’d wandered into their territory, I walked straight to the bathroom to freshen up before I continued my journey.

But when I turned towards the exit, it was suddenly blocked by the muscular arm of a tall, rugged stranger who was eyeing me up and down. He took advantage of my hesitation to walk closer, making me instinctively back away from him until I hit the wall behind me. He leaned in close with his arms either side of me, his face mere inches away from mine so that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke to me. “Hey there. Driving around all day has got me hankering for a filing meal. I was wondering if you wanted to help me out with that?”

His large, firm beer belly had my body pinned to the wall, forcing me to submit to the powerful musk that hung in the atmosphere around him, particularly from the dark, damp patches of sweat beneath his pits. I was surprised he didn’t just grab me right away, instead allowing me to struggle gently beneath his weight. I was trying to avoid eye contact at first as I thought it might scare me into giving up entirely, but after a quick glance I noticed his expression had some friendliness mixed into his tough, intimidating expression. “Don’t be scared, little fella. I’m a nice guy, only gonna eat you if you give me permission. But before you answer, just think about how great it would feel sliding down into my warm, cozy stomach.”

After saying that, he began to lick my neck slowly and seductively. He enjoyed toying with me as he patiently waited for me to stop squirming, confident that I would submit to his desires in the end. And he was right. If being swallowed would feel anywhere near as sensual as getting tasted like this, he’d already done enough to convince me. I couldn’t resist rubbing my hands around his belly while I imagined what it would feel like to be inside it.

“So what do you say, will you fulfil your true purpose and become my dinner?” I quietly whimpered the word “yes” in response and allowed him to pull my shirt over my head before it was suddenly engulfed by his maw. Having teased me enough, he quickly swallowed my shoulders so he could get to the good stuff, tasting the nervous sweat soaked into my pits and chest hair as he devoured me. I moaned at the feeling of being massaged by his gullet that was tightly sealed around me, but there was far more pleasure yet to come.

He pulled off my pants and toyed with my hard cock, his wet tongue coiled around my shaft as it stroked the full length over and over until I bust my salty load into his mouth. Using his strength he was able to force my legs down his throat soon after, his stomach only slightly swelling out as my scrawny body curled up inside him. The man let out a thunderous belch as he admired himself in the mirror, letting me know how satisfied he was in a much more aggressive tone now that he knew he didn’t need to befriend me. “Right where you belong, you delicious little fucker. Now be a good piece of meat and stay nice and still while my gut churns you up.”

I should have been scared, but something just felt so right about becoming a meal for this big man, perhaps because he’d made it feel like it was my choice. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensations of being digested alive, feeling his stomach acid slowly break me down into nourishment for his body.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A Writer on Writing: Italo Calvino

Italo Calvino:

A fine thing it is to have a distant friend who writes long letters full of drivel and to be able to reply to him with equally lengthy letters full of drivel.

The poet turns in on himself, tries to pin down what he has seen and felt, then pulls it out so that others can understand it. But I can’t understand these things: these discourses about the ego and the non-ego I leave to you. Yes, I understand, there’s the struggle to express the inexpressible, typical of modern art, and these are all fine things, but I …

I’m a regular guy, I like well-defined outlines, I’m old-fashioned, bourgeois. My stories are full of facts, they have a beginning and an end. For that reason they will never be able to find success with the critics, nor occupy a place in contemporary literature. I write poetry when I have a thought that I absolutely have to bring out, I write to give vent to my feelings and I write using rhyme because I like it, tum-tetum tumtetum tum te-tum, because I’ve got no ear, and poetry without rhyme or meter seems like soup without salt, and I write (mock me, you crowds! Make me a figure of public scorn!) I write … sonnets … and writing sonnets is boring, you have to find rhymes, you have to write hendecasyllables so after a while I get bored and my drawer is overflowing with unfinished short poems.

I’m still too ignorant to write articles and as for my output of short stories, a famous summer of overproduction has been followed by years of crisis. … All the ideas currently in my head are subject to a strange phenomenon: while I work on them and perfect them continuously from the philosophical point of view, they stay rudimentary and barely sketched on the dramatic and artistic side. In my creativity thought has the upper hand over imagination.

When you’re working you get buried, drowned under things. You’ve no more friends nor art. Only when you’ve an evening or afternoon free can you roam the streets or court a girl. That’s all. In short, working is pointless. I mean, from the point of view of education. But it’s essential. I cannot — and I don’t want to — live the writer’s life, that is to say write for a living. The novel I was writing, which for months and months had sucked all my blood (because, stubborn as I am, I was determined to finish it even though I no longer felt it was going anywhere), is dead, awful, full of wonderful clever things but desperately bad, forced, it’ll never work and I must not finish it. And I must not write for some time now otherwise I’d make more mistakes. I hope that Einaudi will publish my short stories eventually, they’re the only thing I believe in and which I believe are useful.

For seven or eight months now I’ve been mucking about with a novel that I began in a moment of weakness and it’s turning out to be very bad, causing me to waste lots of my time. But at least it’ll get rid of my desire to write novels for four or five years, which is what I dream of doing, and will allow me to study kind of seriously and learn to write decently.

To write well about the elegant world you have to know it and experience it to the depths of your being just as Proust, Radiguet and Fitzgerald did: what matters is not whether you love it or hate it, but only to be quite clear about your position regarding it.

My problem today is how to escape from the limits of these books, from this definition of me as a writer of adventures, fairy-tales, and fun, in which I can’t express myself or realize myself to the full.

The fact is that I already feel I am a prisoner of a kind of style and it is essential that I escape from it at all costs: I’m now trying to write a totally different book, but it’s damned difficult; I’m trying to break up the rhythms, the echoes which I feel the sentences I write eventually slide into, as into pre-existing molds, I try to see facts and things and people in the round instead of being drawn in colors that have no shading. For that reason the book I’m going to write interests me infinitely more than the other one.

One should never have taboos about the tools we use, that as long as the thought or images or style one wants to put forward do not become deformed by the medium, one must on the contrary try to make use of the most powerful and most efficient of those tools.

You can imagine how slowly my fictional output has been going this summer, you who know how much labor, dissatisfaction, irritability, uncertainty this work costs … However — and this is the point — it is worth it. Or rather: one does not ask if it’s worth it.

We are people, there is no doubt, who exist solely insofar as we write, otherwise we don’t exist at all. Even if we did not have a single reader any more, we would have to write; and this not because ours can be a solitary job, on the contrary it is a dialog we take part in when we write, a common discourse, but this dialog can still always be supposed to be taking place with authors of the past, with authors we love and whose discourse we are forcing ourselves to develop, or else with those still to come, those we want through our writing to configure in one particular way rather than another. I am exaggerating: heaven help those who write without being read; for that reason there are too many people writing today and one cannot ask for indulgence for someone who has little to say, and one cannot allow trade-union or corporate sympathies.

Even more annoying are those who theorize that the novel has to be like this or like that, that one must write the novel, etc. Let them go to hell! How much energy is wasted in Italy in trying to write the novel that obeys all the rules. The energy might have been useful to provide us with more modest, more genuine things, that had less pretensions: short stories, memoirs, notes, testimonials, or at any rate books that are open, without a preconceived plan.

Personally, I believe in fiction because the stories I like are those with a beginning and an end. I try to write them as they best come to me, depending on what I have to say. We are in a period when in literature and especially in fiction one can do anything, absolutely anything, and all styles and methods coexist. What the public (and also the critics) require are books (“open” novels) that are rich in substance, density, tension.

As a young man my aspiration was to become a “minor writer.” (Because it was always those that are called “minor” that I liked most and to whom I felt closest.) But this was already a flawed criterion because it presupposes that “major” writers exist. Basically, I am convinced that not only are there no “major” or “minor” writers, but writers themselves do not exist — or at least they do not count for much.

I found this letter that I had started to write yesterday evening and I reread it with interest. Dammit, what a lot of drivel I managed to write! In the end it’s impossible to understand anything in it. But better that way: the less one understands the more posterity will appreciate my profundity of thought. In fact, let me say: POSTERITY IS STUPID Think how annoyed they’ll be when they read that!

[thegettingbyp2]

I loveeedddd your recent work “would i do this” would you be open to writing a part 2 👀

I Would Do This

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You spent the next couple of weeks avoiding Billy at every opportunity. If you saw him walking in your direction, you’d turn the other way, if he was playing poker in the bar when you left, you quickly left again before he was able to notice you.

The only thing was that Billy was noticing all of these things.

After Billy had left your place a few weeks ago, he’d felt confused, guilty even. Seeing the slightly hurt expression on your face when he was leaving was seared into his mind; he’d left you when you were at your most vulnerable. You were laying naked on your sofa and he hadn’t even bothered to check if you were okay before he practically stormed out.

He’d even begun to miss the way the two of you would argue whenever you saw each other on the streets. He was missing the way you’d grin at him whenever you’d see him, ready to antagonise him even more. It wasn’t until he was playing poker in the bar one evening and he noticed you sitting a few tables away that he realised that he’d actually begun to miss you.

You were sitting at a table that was tucked away in the corner, reading your book, so you didn’t see Billy sitting at one of the other tables and Billy used that to his advantage. He quickly and quietly excused himself from the game before standing up and making his way over to your table, smirking when you didn’t even notice him when he standing in front of you, your head still buried in your book.

‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ he said, snapping you away from your book and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

‘No, I haven’t,’ you reply instantly, closing your book and making to stand up. ‘I need to go.’

‘You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re avoiding me,’ Billy said, pushing you back down into the seat and sitting in the chair opposite you, taking his hat off and setting it on the table before looking at you.

‘I told you I’m not - ’

‘Stop lying.’

You just looked at him before setting your book back down on the table. ‘You want to know why I’m avoiding you? Fine. I’m avoiding you because you slept with me, fucked me with your gun,’ you said, lowering your voice, ‘and made me cum multiple times and then you just got up, looked at me like I was nothing and walked away, leaving me feeling like absolute crap. So that’s why I’m avoiding you. I was stupid enough to sleep with you and feel something for you and you just walked all over me.’

Another wave of guilt washed over Billy as you spoke and you watched as his expression change into something resembling pity when he saw a tear spill from your eye and slip down your cheek. ‘(Y/N), I didn’t mean to - ’

‘You know what? It’s fine,’ you said dismissively, standing up and harshly wiping the tear from your cheek. ‘It’s my fault for feeling something for you when there’s clearly nothing there. I mean, that’s why you came into my place that night right? Because I teased you about being in love with me. You were proving me wrong. It’s fine.’ Picking up your book, you quickly walked out of the bar and headed home.

Billy got up as soon as you left, running out of the bar and chasing after you, calling your name. When he finally caught up to you, his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you both to a stop. ‘Would you just wait a minute and let me explain?!’

‘There isn’t anything to explain!’ you exclaimed, spinning round to face him, tears now streaming down your face as you looked at him.

‘You really think that I would have fucked you if I hated you?’ he asked quietly, his grip not loosening on your wrist. ‘I don’t hate you, (Y/N), I never did. The first day I saw you, I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen but I didn’t say or do anything because I was scared that you’d recognise the wanted posters and turn me in. So, I started trying to ignore you and then it became easier for me to pretend that I hated you.’

‘Wait, what do you mean?’ you began, only to be cut off by Billy hands on your cheeks and his lips crashing onto yours. You were aware of the salty taste of your tears on your lips, but that was quickly erased when you felt Billy’s tongue swipe across your bottom lip begging for entrance. You deepened the kiss and Billy’s arms moved from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling you against him. You only broke the kiss when you needed to come up for air but before you could pull away fully, Billy pressed one more gentle kiss to your lips.

‘The other week, I kept telling you that if I was in love with you, there was a load of stuff that I wouldn’t do,’ he began, using one of his hands to make you look at him while he spoke. ‘But what I didn’t say to you was that if I was in love with you, I would do this,’ he said before leaning down to gently kiss you again.

[now-and-4ever]

OLNF Week Day 7 - Alternate Universe

Hosted by @olnfweek2024

Set during OLBA Step 1

Summer in Sunset Bird was a special time of year. The usually sleepy town began to bustle. Eight year old Qiu Lin’s parents didn’t like him to wander too far outside the neighborhood, so he knew the area pretty well. That included the people.

The familiar, friendly residents would wave, or ask him how his family was, or just say hello. Qiu ended up saying “hi” to a lot of different people, since most of the tourists that came every summer were the same ones. But today, there were two adults, a man and a woman, standing on the curb outside his house. They were talking aggressively at each other and making sharp gestures. Whoever they were, Qiu had never seen them before. One thing about knowing everyone in Sunset Bird was that people who he didn’t recognize really, really stood out. Qiu may not have known them, but he was pretty interested. He wanted to know more about what was going on.

Qiu slowly approached the two people. In a second they turned their heads and their eyes met with Qiu’s. They were now aware they weren’t alone anymore.

“Oh, hello,” said the man.

Qiu eyed them carefully. Most adults wanted to talk to his dad about renting houses in town. Was that why they were there? Qiu didn’t know where his dad was right now, but he approached the adults anyway. He was unsure about them, but offered the strangers a smile.

“Do you live here?” asked the woman. “What’s your name?”

Qiu looked them up and down. The man had really light blond hair and the woman had chestnut hair. They both had glasses and their other clothes had a serious appearance that matched their expressions. The total opposite of what you would wear for a trip to the beach. They both seemed uncomfortable talking to Qiu. Maybe they didn’t talk to children that often.

“I’m Mr. Qiu Lin! That’s Q-I-U L-I-N. My house is the one right behind you!” answered Qiu.

“So you’re Qiu,” said the man. He turned to the woman. “They were right. He looks to be about as old as Tamarack.”

“Well, that will be perfect. If we can ever find her to have them meet,” said the woman.

Qiu was confused by the two of them suddenly ignoring him. Though it wasn’t the first time he had met rude adults. Too many adults didn’t care about treating children with respect. The man seemed to realize they cut Qiu out of the loop and addressed him again.

“Qiu, we have a daughter. Her name is Tamarack Baumann. She’s around your age,” said the man, who Qiu now knew as Mr. Baumann.

Qiu’s face beamed with excitement. A kid around his age! All the kids he knew from school didn’t live anywhere close to him. Now he really hoped these two were here to look into renting a house.

Qiu’s hopes were fulfilled as Mrs. Baumann said, “We just moved into that house across the street.” She pointed a finger at a house that had been empty for a year. “We met your parents earlier and they told us about you being eight, like our daughter. She’s an excitable girl and really needs someone to help her spend her energy. Could you try being friends with our girl?”

“Please consider it,” said Mr. Baumann, “If you need some convincing we could agree to get you a new toy if you agree to play with her.” Mrs. Baumann gave her husband a sharp look.

Qiu felt kind of sorry for Tamarack. Her parents being so pushy about other kids being friends with her would drive most kids away. But he was willing to move past that awkwardness. “You don’t have to buy me anything,” said Qiu. “I want to meet Tamarack anyway!”

“That works too,” said Mr. Baumann. “Then we’ll bring her over tomorrow. It would have been nice if she was here to meet you now, but, and I know this sounds bad, we don’t know where she ran off to.” A mix of sadness and frustration fell across his face as he admitted that.

“Your parents agreed to search the area for us. If you happen to find her first, can you bring her back here?” requested Mrs. Baumann.

“Sure thing!” said Qiu. He thought it was odd that they weren’t even trying to find her. Were they just that used to her running off? He spun on his heel and decided to check the hills behind his house.

The chirping of crickets greeted Qiu as he reached the hill. The crash of the waves on the shore and the seagulls squawking as they settled down for the night joined them. The market street in town was more of Qiu’s kind of place, but the ocean was pretty cool too. Qiu took some time to catch his breath and relax, but he couldn’t. He had a feeling that he wasn’t alone so he glanced around.

Cresting over the top of the hill from the other side was a girl. She was frolicing among the long grass and white flowers surrounding her. She spun around and seemed to be in her own, little world. She hadn’t noticed Qiu yet. Qiu watched her for a minute longer. He felt like he had found a squirrel in the wild. Though squirrels didn’t have sparkly hair, but this new girl did. He watched it shine in the moonlight. After a few more seconds he took a step forward. That was enough to finally get the girl’s attention. She ran over to Qiu so fast that she almost barreled right into him.

“Hi! Who are you?” asked the girl.

Qiu was taken aback by how quickly the situation changed, but he was still able to tell her, “Mr. Qiu Lin! That’s Q-I-U L-I-N.”

The girl giggled at how Qiu introduced himself. “Hi, Qiu!”

“Am I correct in guessing that you’re Ms. Tamarack Baumann?” asked Qiu.

“Yep!” confirmed the girl, “And my name isn’t just a name, it’s also a type of tree!”

“That’s cool,” said Qiu. “My name means autumn.”

Tamarack gasped and bounced on her feet. “We’re almost the same! Are you a girl too?”

“No, I’m a boy!” corrected Qiu. “But I’m eight years old and I heard you were too.”

“Yeah! We’re not both girls, but we’re the same in that way! Same age forever!” shouted Tamarack. She started humming a song to herself.

“Why are you out here?” asked Qiu.

“My parents moved here for some reason. I don’t know why. Our old house had the forest right by it. There’s no forest here, but this hill is pretty cool and I’ve never seen the ocean before,” explained Tamarack.

Qiu was surprised. He didn’t think anyone had never seen the ocean before. “I can show you the beach later. And if we walk down the beach I can show you Market Street, it’s the coolest place in this town!”

Tamarack looked at the ocean. “The beach sounds nice, but you don’t have to show me the street. I don’t really care about that.”

Qiu was once again taken aback. How could anyone not care about Market Street? Then an idea came to him. “I get it. It’s because you haven’t seen it yet. I guarantee you’ll change your mind once you do.”

“I’m not sure…” said Tamarack. Qiu would have responded, but he heard a familiar voice.

“Qiu!” It was his dad’s voice.

“Tamarack!” That was Mr. Baumann. They must’ve gotten tired of waiting.

“Where are you two?” shouted Mrs. Baumann’s voice.

Tamarack scrunched up her face. “No! If they find me I’ll have to go back inside! Qiu, don’t say anything.”

“That’s not always a bad thing. Your parents miss you and it’s not like the outside is going anywhere,” assured Qiu.

Tamarack thought that over. “Sorry, but I want to stay outside longer. There’s so much new stuff. What if I miss something that won’t be here tomorrow?”

Qiu had to stop himself from laughing. What could be here that wouldn’t be here tomorrow. It wasn’t like the trees or flowers were going to get up and walk away. But before he could say anything else he heard the Baumanns, even closer than before.

“Tamarack, there you are!” exclaimed Mrs. Baumann. Tamarack’s parents surrounded her. Qiu’s own parents quickly went to his side as well.

“Qiu, you’re here as well,” said Mr. Lin, “We went to the park to check for Tamarack and heard what happened when you met the Baumanns earlier. We thought you might’ve gone further away.”

“Sorry,” said Qiu, “Tamarack wasn’t ready to go back home just yet.”

Mrs. Lin gave Tamarack a soft smile and then turned back to Qiu. “Thank God you’re both fine.”

“Were you two having fun out here?” asked Mr. Lin.

Qiu looked over at Tamarack, who appeared annoyed at her parents giving her a talking to and fusing over her.

“Yeah, I like her,” said Qiu.

Mrs. Baumann clasped her hands over Tamarack’s shoulders as if she would run away again at any moment. Mr. Baumann turned to the Lins and said, “Thank you for finding her. Obviously, we don’t know this neighborhood at all. I apologize for this bother.”

“It’s no bother to help a neighbor out,” said Mr. Lin. “It’s a good thing Qiu knows this whole area so well.”

“Indeed,” said Mrs. Baumann, “We should be getting home now. It’s been a long day for us all. Say goodbye, Tamarack, and thank them for taking the time to search for you.”

“Bye. Thanks for finding me,” said Tamarack, her energy levels had been lowered since her parents got hold of her. The three of them walked off into the darkness, heading toward the neighborhood. Qiu watched the sparkles in Tamarack’s hair until the last one went out.

“How about we have a proper playdate tomorrow, “ suggested Mrs. Lin. “Her parents wanted to bring her by to see you.”

“How does that sound,” asked Mr. Lin.

“Sure, can I show her my hideout?” asked Qiu.

“Of course you can,” answered Mrs. Lin.

“Yeah!” exclaimed Qiu. Qiu’s parents laughed, the sounds overlapping into a warm, familiar chorus. Mr. Lin put his arm around Qiu’s shoulder and the three of them headed down the hill. Satisfied, and more than a little ready to go to bed after the long, exciting day, Qiu followed them home.

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 4

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: ANGST

Word Count:  1.8k

Warnings: ouid consumption, Sam and Danny fight again and Danny gives him a harsh reality check, Sammy boy’s going through it and his family is worried about him

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“Alright, I gotta take a leak.” Josh slaps his hands on his thighs, a classic midwestern habit he would never be able to get rid of no matter how long he lived in New York. As he stands, he sways slightly as the half of a joint he smoked catches up to him. He grabs Jake’s shoulder for support, trying to pass him but only succeeding in bumping into his camping chair and nearly toppling the pair over.

“I’m gonna go with him, make sure he doesn’t fall off a cliff or something.” Jake stands, offering his arm out to his brother for support as he takes cautious steps over the loose rocks below them.

Fuck. They’re seriously going to leave me alone with him? The pit in Danny’s stomach only grows as the twins disappear into the trees, the sounds of Jake trying to keep Josh on the path growing quieter and quieter by the moment. Just look anywhere but him. Anywhere but him, it’s that easy. He distracts himself by focusing on the rocks below him, beginning to balance them on top of each other. He can feel Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye and after five minutes, it finally gets on his nerves.

“Do you have something to say?” Danny didn’t mean for his question to sound so harsh, but it comes off angry nonetheless.

“No.” Sam looks away quickly, down at his hands as he picks his cuticles in his lap.

“Then find something else to do than stare, please.” Sam says nothing more, not once glancing back at Danny as he continues stacking the river rocks, looking up at Sam every so often to make sure he wasn’t looking at him. Why the fuck do you care if he’s looking?

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Sam’s question comes out of nowhere, and for the first time in years, he makes direct eye contact with Danny, his expression serious and unfaltering.

“What?”

“Did you find whatever it was that you were looking for? In New York. Are you- are you happy?”

Danny can’t tell if the weed was impairing his thought process or if Sam truly was making no sense, taking longer than he should have to consider his words. “I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m looking for. I’m happy… I could be happier.” Jesus fuck, remind me never to smoke around Sam anymore. The man ignores me for years and then the second he starts asking questions I’m an open fucking book.

“What would make you happier?”

You. Danny catches himself before he says the word, shaking his head at Sam as he tries to come up with any other answer. “I don’t know, but I do know it’s better than staying here.” If he gets to say cryptic shit, then so do I.  “Maybe I just moved to the city hoping the noise drowned out the regret.”

“What regret?”

Fuck. I wasn’t actually expecting him to ask. Danny fixes him with a blank expression, deep-rooted pain flashing behind his eyes. “I think you know. Why do you even care?”

Sam’s glad Danny isn’t close enough to see the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and he hoped that when he found his words, they wouldn’t betray him. “So, you regret it?”

“Yes. I do.” Of course I fucking regret it. If I hadn’t kissed him, we would still be friends. I could still have him in my life, even if it wasn’t in the way that I wanted it to be.

“Good to know.” Sam picks his book up again, opening to a random page and hoping that Danny would drop the subject before it made him cry.

“Why the fuck do you keep bringing the kiss up, Sam?” Danny stares daggers at him, anger welling in his stomach as Sam shows so little emotion towards the event that ruined their friendship. “It’s in the past, move on.”

Sam looks up from his book, his eyes darting between Danny and anything else in the clearing he could distract himself with. “We just never talked about it.”

“And who’s fucking fault is that?” Danny saw that his comment hurt Sam, his features twisting slightly as if he were on the verge of tears, but it’s not enough. He continues, bringing every feeling he had to the surface as Sam blinks back tears. “You know what your problem is, Sam? You’re stuck in the past while everyone else around you moves forward. Leave the past where it belongs, or you’ll be left behind.”

He stands as if to leave, only turning and taking two steps before Sam’s voice stops him. “I’m not- I’m not stuck in the past.”

“Yes, you fucking are!” Danny rounds on him, his voice raised in his frustration. “You’re too focused on the past, on the kiss, on all of us leaving to actually live in the moment. We aren’t 18-year-old kids fresh out of high school anymore, we’re adults. You’re going to need to grow the fuck up at some point, and for your sake I hope that happens soon.”

“Fuck you.” His voice is quiet as a tear rolls down his cheek, not bothering to wipe it away as more come.

“NO, FUCK YOU SAM! You’re a fucking coward. Too scared to talk about the goddamn kiss so you ignored me, your closest friend, for three years. Too scared to move away from Frankenmuth so still living with your parents. Too scared to actually take control of your life so you study fucking business. What the fuck happened to astronomy, Sam? What happened to the boy I knew who was excited for his future after graduation, who was so passionate about following his dreams and getting out of Michigan?” Danny takes a deep breath, waiting to see if Sam had anything to fling back at him for his outburst. He thought seeing him cry at his truthful words would make him feel better. It didn’t. “If you find that boy again, tell him I fucking miss him. I want that Sam, my Sam, back.”

Danny turns before his tears escape his eyes, hastily making a grab for his shoes and shirt as he storms away from the clearing. He doesn’t even feel the sticks and stones stabbing the bottoms of his feet or the blistering asphalt until he’s safe in his old room, every ache riddling his body hitting him all at once as he sinks to the floor, holding his face in his hands until there are no more tears left in him to cry.

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June 30th, 2:42 PM

Danny had blocked that day from his memory, doing his best to enjoy his summer without focusing on every negative thing being back in Frankenmuth brought back. He hadn’t seen Sam since, but what did he care?

“Hey Danny?”

He cracks his eyes open, squinting at Josh as they lay on the beach of Saginaw Bay sunbathing after several hours in the water. “Hm?”

“Did you and Sam get into a fight after Jake and I left? When we went to the watering hole.”

“I don’t know if I would call it a fight.”

“Then what would you call it?” Jake’s head pops up on the other side of Josh as he sits up, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“I kind of… maybe yelled at him. A lot. He cried.” Danny keeps his response short, not wanting to get into the details of it. But the twins, being who they were, needed to know more.

“What did you say?” Josh’s voice is quiet, his mind racing between every possible thing Danny could have said to leave Sam the way they found him; alone, sitting on that same rock, sobbing.

“I called him a coward. Said he wasn’t the same boy I knew before I left.” His voice breaks as he remembers how angry he was, how disappointed at the man in front of him he had been. And worst of all, Sam’s expression. He knew he should have stopped himself; he shouldn’t have said such harsh things, even though they were the truth. He had watched Sam crumble away at each blow, but even that hadn’t stopped him. He had wanted Sam to hurt as much as he had. Just another thing to add to my list of regrets.

Jake and Josh exchange a look, seemingly telepathically communicating before Jake speaks for them. “You need to talk to him, Daniel.”

“No.” His response comes too quick, trying to backpedal as he stumbles over his thoughts. “I mean, he won’t talk to me. He didn’t want to talk to me before, so he definitely won’t talk to me now.”

“Please. Do it for us.” Jake’s statement makes almost no sense until his twin cuts in.

“We’re worried about him, mom and dad too. We don’t know what to do, Danny.”

Danny sits up, the broken tone of his statement sending his anxiety spiraling. “Why are you worried about him?”

“He’s moody, stays in his room all day. And yeah, he’s been like this since we all left but… but it’s worse now. He won’t talk to us, he barely comes down to eat. We invited him to join us today without telling him you’d be here, and he still refused. Any time any of us try to go talk to him about what’s going on, he gets angry, yells at us until we leave. We don’t know how to help him. We just- we just want our little brother back, Danny.” Danny’s regret only grows as tears glint in Josh’s eyes as he explains, feeling completely responsible for the state that Sam was in.

“If anyone can help him, it’s you. You might not be close anymore, but we know he would still hold your opinion and advice higher than ours.” Jake finishes, both men looking at him with pleading expressions.

They think I’m their last hope. “Fine.” The twins’ faces flicker with optimism at his agreement, causing Danny to continue. “But I can’t make any promises that he’ll even talk to me. He hates me and we’re strangers to each other at this point, I don’t know why you guys think it’ll work. But I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”

“I knew we could count on you.” Josh moves to his knees in the sand, leaning forward to close the distance between them to hug Danny.

“I said I’ll try, not that it’ll work. The second he yells, I’m out.”

“Understandable. And that’s all we’re asking of you, Danny. To try. Know that it means the world to us.”

I just have to try to reason with a man that hates me after I berated him a week ago. How hard can it be? Where the fuck do I even start?

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taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @sanguinebats @theres-a-tvjoe @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @currentlyfangirling10

[velidewrites]

Don’t Look Back

Five hundred years ago, the humans fought hard for their freedom in the Great War and won. Now, their former masters seek retribution in a rebellion that grows stronger year by year. When Elain Archeron finds out marrying Greysen Nolan might be the only solution to keep her family safe from the ancient, cruel Fae, she doesn't hesitate to fulfil her duty. What Elain doesn't know, though, is that the man with the fiery hair and russet eyes is not her fiancé, but his killer—and when she finally finds out, well…it will be far too late to turn back.

Chapter 4/15 || Read on AO3 || Go to Chapter 1 || beta'd by @ablogofsapphicpanic

Chapter 4: The Runaway

As much as she hated to agree with anything that came out of Lucien Vanserra’s mouth, Elain was angry. The rage burning in her cheeks felt hotter than the fire flickering at Eris’s fingertips, ready to reduce the tent and everyone inside it to ash as she seethed, “He is no betrothed of mine.”

“The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you,” Graysen—Lucien, she had to correct herself—told her.

“So let me go, then.”

Lucien didn’t even meet her gaze. “Ah,” he said, studying his nails—long and sharp now, Elain realised, so unlike the hands that held her at the ball last night. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Elain gritted her teeth. “Explain.”

“We’re many days from New Prythian, Lady Archeron,” Eris’s voice reached her. She’d nearly forgotten he was in the tent—him and Azriel, who now stood guarding the entrance, hazel eyes not leaving the scene for one second. “We’ve reached Braemar this morning, There’s no turning back.”

She peeled her gaze off of Lucien’s hand, his stupid, handsome face, and made herself look at Eris. “You seem like a man who loves to hear himself talk,” she said to him. “So talk.”

Lucien snorted.

Eris’s amber gaze cut to him instantly. “Something funny, little brother?”

Elain blinked. “Brother?”

Her question was ignored entirely. “There’s just something wonderfully satisfying about watching a human put you in your place,” Lucien crooned, a familiar smile returning onto his full lips.

If I may return the compliment…Your eyes are the most beautiful I have ever seen.

He’d spoken these words to her with that smile. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Whatever she had felt—whatever she thought she had felt before when she looked at Lucien was long gone now.

He was a liar—he was such a liar, and Elain had been nothing but a fool. 

Clearly unaware of the turmoil whirring through her mind, Eris said, “One more word, and you’ll be leaving this camp on foot.” He turned to Elain. “Do you ride, Lady Archeron?”

Elain narrowed her eyes on him. “I am not going anywhere with you,” she spat. Then, like a flicker of light sparking in her head, she added, “You’re the Fae rebels the Huntsman has been after, aren’t you?”

They had to be—there were so very few of them left. And if Braemar was indeed where they’d taken her, the three males standing before her like predators circling their prey must’ve been the ones who had made Father give Nesta away to Hybern—and Elain to Rask.

As great as that went.

“Would you look at that, Eris,” Lucien purred, “Our reputation precedes us.”

“All the way to New Prythian, it seems,” Eris agreed, his expression sour. “Wretched place. I never enjoyed coming back here.” He grimaced. “Especially when it was known under another name.”

“You’ve been to our lands before,” Elain told him, the words not entirely a question.

Eris nodded. “I’ve had the displeasure,” he said. “Spring Court. Nothing but nasty beasts roaming everywhere. Terrible leadership.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Some things never change.”

Elain ignored the jab. “And you?” she asked, turning to Lucien.

“First time,” he shrugged, the hard muscles of his arms shifting with the movement. Damn him. “And while I certainly wish it could be my last, Princess, I’m afraid we’ve got some more work to do in New Prythian.”

“I hope by more work you mean returning me to the Manor, because I am not going a step further with the likes of you,” Elain seethed.

The corner of Lucien’s mouth quirked upwards. “The likes of us,” he hummed. “What could you possibly mean by that, little fawn?”

The bastard saw through her again.

So Elain finally asked, “Are you the Fae who killed my mother?”

It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. These Fae had broken into Elain’s house like it was nothing—like they had been there before. And, since they were the only rebels who had dared to cross onto New Prythian, into her father’s territory…

Eris looked directly into her eyes as he said, “Yes.”

It was strange how one simple word had managed to knock her breath out of her chest—how it replaced all the air with that angry, sizzling fire, begging to be let out like a caged animal.

Elain choked through the feeling. “You did this?” She looked at Lucien. “Did you?” He said he hadn’t been to her lands before, but, in the less than twenty-four hours Elain had known him, he had not been truthful with her once. Why should she believe him?

Lucien met her stare calmly. “Would it change anything if I did?” he asked.

Elain would kill him, she decided right there and then. She didn’t care when, she didn’t care how—hell, she didn’t even care if it really was him who had done it. One way or another, Lucien Vanserra would pay for it—for all of it.

Perhaps she would hire a mercenary—or send an entire guard after him, if she ever managed to return home. Perhaps she would find the worst magical object in her father’s prized collection and use it to do it herself. An enchanted dagger, perhaps, shoved right through his neck.

So Elain told him, forcing that resolve into her trembling tone, “I want to know if the male who ruined my future is the same one who ruined my past.”

Lucien’s brows rose.

“It was me,” Eris said then, once again reminding Elain that perhaps Lucien was not the only male she had to swear to kill.

Her head whipped towards him. “How?” she questioned, jaw tensing as she made herself add, “There wasn’t any blood on her sheets when she was found.”

She had to know. Whatever they’d done to her, she’d repay it tenfold.

A rare thought crossed her mind that Nesta would have enjoyed the newfound bloodlust in Elain. Her sister had always harboured more vindictiveness inside her than Elain, which apparently was something Lucien Vanserra had a talent of bringing out of her. Perhaps she needed to get to Hybern, first—to alert Nesta and her allies, however terrifying they were, of the rebels who dared to kill their family.

If the promise was written on her face, Eris seemed to care for none of it. “Your mother died a lot quicker than she deserved,” he simply said, fixing the cuffs of his immaculate bronze jacket.

“Monsters,” Elain seethed. “You’re such monsters.”

A warning flame flickered in Lucien’s russet eyes. Beautiful, Elain had called them. She cursed herself for a fool once more.

“My brother is many things, Princess,” Lucien said slowly. “But a monster is not one of them.”

Eris’s gaze shot over to Lucien’s.

“And my sister?” Elain asked, dread building in her chest in anticipation of the answer. “What did you do to her?”

Eris’s attention returned to her. “We did not kill Feyre Archeron,” he told her. “Your mother was trouble enough.”

Her throat burned. “I hate you.”

Eris sighed. “I’m sure you do,” he nodded, as though she was nothing but a mere child and he was the one forced to pacify it. “That doesn’t change the fact that we need your help, Lady Archeron, and we will not release you until you give it to us.”

Elain shook her head. “You’re insane,” she told them both. “Insane. Why would I help the monsters,” she repeated, secretly enjoying the way Lucien’s nostrils flared at the word, “who had spent centuries trying to kill every last one of my kind? My own family?”

Lucien bristled, “Liars. Humans have always been such liars.”

Elain’s features were crafted of stone as she faced him again. “You have been lying to me from the moment we met,” she told Lucien. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again.”

A muscle jutted in Lucien’s jaw.

“If you don’t listen to my brother,” Eris interrupted, watching her closely, “Perhaps you could be convinced by an old friend.”

Elain did not have time to question any of them as the flaps of the tent opened, the pale sunlight pouring in through the gap. As a new figure appeared in the entrance and brushed past Azriel, her hair shining like red-hot, molten metal.

That face—Elain knew that face. Had remembered how it lit up in a smile the very last time she had seen it, six years ago before the messengers alerted the Manor of her death.

The Huntsman’s daughter, her death the very first time Elain understood just how cruel the Fae truly were, stopped right before Elain and smiled.

Alive.

Elain swallowed in disbelief. “Vassa?”

***

The camp had been packed up before Elain even got the chance to see it. She had simply been placed in a rather unimpressive, open wooden carriage when a black-haired female appeared in her tent and announced they were ready to depart.

You can save your heartfelt reunion for the journey, Eris had told her then. We need to keep moving.

“I don’t understand,” Elain now told Vassa, trying not to scowl through the pain in her rear as they made their way through the bumpy road. She had ignored Lucien, who was quickly proving a rather unfortunate company, and the smirk still playing on his lips from the first time she’d yelped out in surprise when the carriage went over a rock. “I thought you were dead.”

Vassa smiled lightly, “My father certainly likes to spread that story around,” she told her. “It helps his cause, if nothing else. Truth is, he’s never liked me very much.”

“Does he know you’re alive?” Elain asked.

“He’s heard rumours, I’m sure,” Vassa nodded. “It brings me comfort to know they keep him up at night,” she added, a smirk of her own now curling her mouth.

Elain’s brows knotted. “Your father is a good person, Vassa.” She didn’t the Huntsman all that well, yes, but he was the one who had been keeping the Fae like Lucien away from New Prythian for all those centuries. Mostly successfully.

Vassa gave her a look. “Come now, Elain,” she almost scolded. “We haven’t spent much time together in the past, but I’ve always thought you were smarter than this.” She looked out to the path ahead as she added, “They all want us to think of them as our saviours, but those of us who have broken free of their lies…we know the truth.”

Elain angled her head. “Which is?”

“You’ll find out soon,” was Vassa’s cryptic reply.

“Where is it you’re taking me, exactly?”

Lucien shifted in his seat, reminding her of his rather unwelcome presence. “That is none of your concern,” he said, crossing his arms over his muddy, white shirt. He’d gotten rid of the jacket he’d worn at the ball, his sleeves now rolled up to his elbows, exposing arms so well-built she had to wonder just how many ex-fiancés he had to kill to look that ridiculous.

“I was not speaking to you,” she rudely told him. Then, upon further consideration, “I hope you know this engagement is over,” she added.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “My poor, broken heart,” he mocked, then rested an arm on the wooden rim and returned to brooding in silence.

Good. Elain was quickly finding out she was less aggravated the longer he kept his mouth closed.

“And they tell us to be afraid of the Fae,” she told Vassa. “Are they all such idiots?”

She could have sworn she heard a quiet scoff coming somewhere from the front.

Vassa grinned, clearly hearing it, too. “Oh, yes.”

“I am still here, Vassa,” Lucien grumbled.

Fine. If he so badly wanted to be part of the conversation, she would indulge him. As vexing as Lucien Vanserra was, she could at the very least get some answers out of him. And at best…he could be more useful to her than she'd originally thought.

So she asked, “How did you kill him?” She clarified, in case he really did spend all his free time killing mortal men, “Greysen?”

Vassa turned to Lucien. “I don’t think she wants to hear—”

“I ripped his heart out,” Lucien told her as if he was describing no more than his breakfast. Then, “It was over before he even really felt it.”

Elain looked at Vassa. “I think I’m going to be sick.” 

Vassa’s eyes widened. “Should we stop the carriage?”

Elain nodded. “Plea—”

“We are not stopping the carriage,” Lucien cut in. “The Princess has heard of worse things in her life, Vassa,” he added, his gaze drifting back to Elain. “But that was a clever move, I’ll give you that. Too bad it didn’t work,” he shrugged, that shit-eating smirk returning onto his face.

“I hate you,” Elain told him truthfully, silently cursing all the gods for letting him ruin all her plans again. The open carriage would have been a lot harder to slip out of if it weren’t for his interrupting. 

His smile only grew as he pointed out, “You didn’t seem to hate me at the ball.” 

“And you didn’t seem to be such a—”

“Alright,” Vassa said, her voice rising over the rather unladylike nickname Elain had opted for. “Let’s all calm down, shall we? There really is no need to ruin a perfectly good carriage, especially when we’re going to need it for later.” A look at Elain. “I would appreciate it, though, if you didn’t try any more tricks on us, Elain. As difficult as this one is making it for me to prove, we do mean well.”

“Don’t forget who her father is,” Lucien added, his tone betraying nothing but mockery. “She may not understand the meaning of the word.”

“You didn’t even know him,” Elain spat. 

“I didn’t have to,” Lucien said. “The fact that he married someone like your mother, of all the monsters on this earth, is telling enough.”

“Oh, you mean the woman you murdered?”

Vassa sighed deeply. “There are many things you don’t know, Elain,” she told her. “Everything will be explained once we reach the—” Lucien cleared his throat, and Vassa rolled her eyes once more. “Once we reach our destination,” she said instead, and Elain cursed them both for yet another lie they were feeding her.

“Why should I believe anything he says?” she asked. “Anything you all say? You kidnapped me from my own home, killed my fiancé, and are now taking me Gods know where in hopes of…what? That I’ll help you?” She almost laughed. “Give me one good reason, Vassa,” she told her. “Give me one reason why I should listen.”

“You don’t exactly have any other choice,” Lucien muttered from the front of the carriage.

“Shut up, Lucien,” Vassa told him. “Look. I know this is…difficult to understand,” she started, and the pity in her eyes was enough to make Elain seethe all over again.

“Don’t patronise me,” she accused.

“I’m not,” Vassa pressed. “I was you, once. Did you know why my father sent me to the Wildlands all those years ago?” She scoffed, more to herself now than Elain as she added, “I was getting out of control. His control, of course, and he was not happy with it. He didn’t like seeing my power grow—didn’t like seeing how his court rallied around me, how every hunt I returned from was more successful than the last. His hold over Braemar was slipping right into my hand.” Something like sadness took hold of her freckled features, and the air around them seemed to thicken. Even Lucien’s attention drifted back towards them as Vassa said, “But, at that time, my hand was his own. I was his daughter. Everything I did—all of it—had been to gain his favour. I killed and slaughtered because I thought that, with enough bloodshed spilled in his name, he would eventually claim me as his heir. Hell, claiming me as his child would have probably been enough for me.” Cerulean eyes met Elain’s own. “But all my father saw was a threat. So I became exactly that.”

Vassa continued, “When he sent me to the North under some pathetic excuse of protection from the Fae rebels marching on Braemar, I knew it was to get rid of me. I begged and I pleaded for him to let me stay—to let me fight by his side, to avenge our ancestors and kill the masters threatening our family again. All this time, I had no idea it was us, the humans, living in their ancestral home. That it was my family who had taken that home from the ones who had once been our allies.”

“But my father didn’t let me stay—he forced me onto my horse and, with a legion of twelve sentries who I knew were really my executioners, sent me to the border. The fact that he thought twelve men could hold me down…” A sly smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Then again, my father had always underestimated me.”

Elain swallowed.

“They attacked the moment we stepped into the Guardian’s lands,” Vassa went on, “But the border was empty. He was likely in on it, too. No one in their right mind ever wants to get on the Harvester’s bad side. So when the first of the sentries swung his sword at my neck, there wasn’t a single soul in those woods to help me.”

“Please,” Lucien said, a smile of his own now tugging at his lips. “It’s not like you needed any help.”

Vassa offered him a grin—then turned to Elain, her next words preventing her from analysing how in the hell the Huntsman’s own daughter befriended someone like Lucien Vanserra as she added, “When Eris found me, my hair was sticky with blood and my fingers half-frozen from the snow.” Elain shuddered. “But I survived. The fire he’d cast brought me back from the cold death I was succumbing too. I knew who he was right away—I recognised the magic still haunting the halls of the home I was exiled from.” She shook her head, her curls grazing her collarbone slightly. “He knew who I was, too, and what my family had done to his own. I was dying, defenceless and his enemy. But Eris did not kill me,” she said, “He helped me up.”

“He told me the truth—about everything. Had proven it, too, because as much as I hated my father, I still believed the lies he’d been telling me my entire life. You all showed me another way,” she said to Lucien, a small smile lighting up her face before she turned back to Elain. “I’ve been by their side ever since.”

“And we owe you a lifetime’s debt for it,” Lucien said.

Vassa tilted her head slightly. “There are no debts among friends, Lucien.”

“All this to say,” she said to Elain, “I know why you hate them—why you probably hate me right now, too. But I’ve seen true monsters, Elain, and they don’t look like the males who have stolen you from New Prythian.” That sadness returned to her stare as she told her, “They look like the man whose eyes you see in the mirror every morning.”

Elain studied her face. “And I suppose Eris will show me the truth,” she said slowly—then turned to Lucien. “He is your brother,” she added, remembering the familial term Eris had called him back in the tent.

“He is,” Lucien agreed.

“Older?”

Vassa snorted.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You wound me, little fawn.”

“Stop calling me that,” Elain told him.

“As you wish, Princess.”

“Gods, I don’t know which is worse,” Elain grimaced. She continued, though, curiosity getting the better of her, “Eris called you the seventh son of the Autumn Court—the old Braemar,” she clarified. “Would that not make him…” she hesitated, not entirely sure whether the words she’d learned from her old history books were truly a spell of some sorts—a spell that would bring them back to life.

Lucien hummed. “Are you afraid, Elain?”

If she admitted it, he would probably call her something infuriating like little fawn again. So she told him, “No.”

Lucien smiled knowingly. “Then ask me the question.”

Elain pushed through the words. “Is Eris the High Lord of the Autumn Court?”

“Yes,” Lucien simply told her. “He is.”

Elain’s shoulders tensed.

“If it helps, it was a shock to me, too,” Vassa chimed in.

“I thought the High Lords were all dead,” Elain said, hating the quiet hollowness invading her tone.

“He is the last one, as far as we’re aware,” Lucien explained matter-of-factly. “But he doesn’t wish to be addressed as such—not while the humans are still living in our home.” He added, “Our father was killed shortly after the War, and the rest of our brothers followed shortly after. The ancient magic became Eris’s, and he became the High Lord.” A shadow passed through his handsome features. “A High Lord without land, without subjects, without family. As the humans took over, our magic dwindled, too. The things we were once able to do are now all but a distinct memory. Eris will not call himself High Lord until that magic—until everything—is returned to us.”

He looked at Elain. “That is why you’re here, little fawn,” he crooned. “You’re going to help us get it back.”

The carriage halted with the words—and Elain realised the rocky path had finally ended. They had somehow ended up in the middle of a forest, so golden and bright she had to squint before she took it all in—before she noticed the leaves, gleaming with health and all the shades of auburn and red, the wooden pillars forming a circle around the clearing stretching right before them.

A dozen balls of fire cackled to life atop the pillars, prompted by a magic so ancient Elain could practically taste it on her tongue.

“Welcome,” Lucien’s voice sounded behind her, rich and deep, as if brought to life by this strange place, too. “To the Vanserra Hold.”

[cotagillumis]

“Love…..?”

Illumi Zoldyck x reader

Pairings: Illumi x reader (slight Hisoka x reader not really romantic tho)

Warnings: Hisoka 💀

“Well hello there.”

He spoke without sparing you a glance.

A creepy smile on his face as he was stacking up cards.

Your eyes widen a bit as he probably sensed your aura but you quickly recover closing your eyes, smiling, as you walk out to face him

“Oh~ I see”

He looks at you, the creepy smile still on his face.

“I see you're still here. What can I do for you?”

You shrug smirking

“Nothing much…. Just wanted to see you for myself”

He looks at you, seemingly annoyed

“And why did you want to see me? There's nothing special about me”

You giggle, amused

“Oh well…. I wanted to see my husband’s friend”

His eyes widen a bit

“Y-Your... Husband's.. Friend..?!”

You nod a smirk on your face

“H-How did you know that!?”

He says as slightly surprised

“I would assume that you've heard something like that. I never thought I would ever find my... friend's wife to be so...”

He stops, and thinks to himself

"How do I say... pretty? Gorgeous? Beautiful? I've never had to give one of the wives a compliment before"

He blushes a bit, and speaks

“Your... husband is lucky to have you.”

A sly smile on his face giving you the creeps. But you ignore it, acting as if you’re unfazed.

“Oh ~? Well Illumi warned me of how flirty you are.”

You let out an elegant chuckle

“Oh? So did he warn you of how good I am at fighting as well?”

He says jokingly as he now stands up

You eye him up and down giggling

“You’re telling me you had no idea we’re married ?”

You ask seemingly confused of how such a great “friend” of your husband wouldn’t know

“Well, I did hear that Illumi got married. However... I didn't think... I mean... I never thought I would meet her...”

He speaks still surprised at how beautiful you are, exiting him quite a bit

“Oh ? Well now you met her and I must say…. I’m not surprised… I’ve heard enough about you and wanted to see for myself”

You say as you giggle and cover your mouth with the back of your hand

“Hmmm..”

His eyes dart across your body, and his blush gets stronger

“I'm a bit... honored... to hear that.”

He says as he looks at you

“And so, what exactly have you heard?”

You smile

“Ah… only….. good things…”

You say slightly nervous

He smiles

“Oh?”

He looks at you, genuinely intrigued now

“Is that so? Would you like to give one example?”

He speaks with such creepy voice that it sends shovers down your spine.

You get slightly more nervous the more he asks

“U- w-well …. Very….”

You look him up and down

“… strong… yes strong !”

You speak trying not to make his suspect anything

He smiles

“Hmm... That's a first, usually people say something about fighting or killing when they describe me.”

He says with an amused expression on his face

“Very strong, huh? I like it.”

He says and he steps closer to you, a smirk on his face.

“You must be quite strong yourself...”

He says quietly approaching you with a smirk on his face

“... to attract a man, like Illumi, huh?”

You clearly don’t like that so you speak

“Illumi loves me for who I am and not for strength..”

You say stepping back a bit

“I see...”

He thinks to himself

“... So you're saying... that it was not your strength, but... your charming beauty, that made him fall in love with you...?”

He speaks with that sly smile on his face

You realised what you said and try to not show any weakness

But you get even more nervous

“Oh please, I’m not that pretty”

You say humbling yourself as you give a nervous giggle

He tilts his head slightly, confused and says

“Really? I beg to differ...”

He speaks as he looks at you

“You are stunning...”

He moves a bit closer to you again, a smirk starts forming on his face

“You're beautiful...”

He moves even closer to you this time, his voice is low and almost in a whisper as he says

“You're the definition of beauty...”

You giggle nervously again trying to back up but you hit a wall

“Oh my… t- thank you.”

You say looking anywhere but at him as you stutter

“Oh?”

He leans closer to you

“You're welcome...”

He whispers into your ear

“I would even go as far as to say you're perfect...”

A smirk appears on his face

You feel your blood run cold

“Eh well… I really am not ! “

You let out a loud nervous laugh as you try to slightly push him away

He notices, and puts his hands behind his back, while also chuckling a bit

“Oh don't be like that...”

He says with the same little smirk you saw earlier

“I'm the expert on beauty here and...”

He steps even closer to you

“... from my expert opinion, you are the most beautiful woman in the world...”

He stops for a second, thinking of what he just said, before continuing

“... At least I think so...”

You try to giggle again but you get way too nervous to say anything

“Oh~ you need to humble me !”

You smile nervously feeling the cold sweat on your forehead

He lets his hand off of his back and gets even closer to you, before speaking

“Why would I need to humble you?”

He says with a smirk on his face as he looks you dead in the eyes

“You're perfect the way you are...”

He says looking at you with devilish eyes

By then you’ve had enough trying to push him off

“I- i need to go… Illumi and I are having plans..”

You speak nervously.

“Oh ~ plans eh ?”

He said with a shit eating grin

You nod unpleased with the aura he gives off.

He then suddenly decided to pin you against the wall

“Now~ you can’t just leave me unhappy, I’m sure Illumi won’t mind sharing such a beauty~”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

You tried to speak but nothing came out.

“Oh~ you definitely are more stunning up close.”

He spoke as he licked his lips.

You tried your best to just not look at him, and shut your eyes tightly.

“My, my. I’ll have so much fun with-“

The window shattered.

Just as you opened your eyes, you saw him. He pushed Hisoka with one hand.

Raising his hands in the air, Hisoka let out a giggle backing up from you.

“I see you found your way ~”

Illumi stood there back facing you.

“Hands off…. I will forgive it this time”

He said with his usually monotone voice and emotionless big black eyes. Then he suddenly turned to face you.

“We have to go”

He said. And with one swift motion, you were in his arms, him ready to jump out of the window again.

Finally after a few minutes of wind hitting your face and nothing but awkward staring, you arrived in front if the car. The car you assumed belonged to your husband.

Getting in the passenger seat, you decided to just not look his way.

He sat in the drivers seat, not sparing you a glance when he suddenly spoke.

“I told you to not go, didn’t I ?”

You looked down to your lap.

“I just wanted to know who he is…. Is all…. I wanted to see who your friend is. My husband’s friend”

You speak in a very quiet voice.

You hear him sigh as he kept driving.

You eventually decided to just quickly look at him for a second, that second turned to five minutes as he looked straight ahead on the road.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you getting out ?”

You suddenly snapped out of it. Looking around you saw that you already arrived.

“Oh…. I didn’t realise”

You say not caring of what he thinks. He just looks at you as he gets out and walks around the car to open your door without a word.

After getting out of the car, you ket out a sigh

Illumi looked at you then spoke in his usually monotone voice.

“You don’t need to pay him any mid, he’s always like that.”

He paused then spoke again

“And besides… you are beautiful…. No need to humble yourself so much”

Your eyes widen a bit as you looked at him.

You could have sworn you saw a tiny blush on his pale cheeks.

Smiling you walked ahead.

“Thank you, love !”

Saying this, you giggled.

Leaving him standing there alone…

With the tiniest blush on his face.

“Love…..?”

He asked himself with a very quiet voice, almost a whisper.

[readingandwritingandreading]

Long Time Coming ~ Part 8

My Blurb: *Mandatory wording about how sorry I am that this took to long* :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story. You own nothing, I don’t give anyone permission to post this anywhere. 

Summary: Bucky had waited a long time to find an Omega. When Pepper introduces the team to her new assistant he knows shes the one.

Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes X OFC Omega Carina Rivera

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Sex, fingering, oral, biting/marking.

Status: In Progress

Tagging: @snarkandsarcasmftw  @pioched​  @littlemissthistle @pizgloria @briefdreamcloud

Read First: Long Time Coming Masterlist

Also Check Out: Main Masterlist

“If it isn’t the two love birds.” Tony’s voice caused Carina to spring out of Bucky’s embrace as he strolled into the office. “Also, are you two thinking of condensing space? Pepper told me not to say anything but I have a new recruit who could take that apartment if you moved in with One Armed Wonder, here. Unless you're having second thoughts, in which case I can get you into some witness protection or something, blink twice if he's smothering you.” 

“What? No, I’m not, he’s not…” Carina stuttered, looking frantically between the two men before Bucky placed a hand on her arm and pulled her back to him. 

“Stark is just trying to rile me up sweetheart. Ignore him. I should get to the briefing though. I’ll see you later?” Bucky asked, shifting until he was between her and Tony, blocking him from view and recapturing her attention. Tony rolled his eyes and continued into Piper’s office.

Bucky and Carina had rarely been seen apart in the two weeks since the attack. If Bucky wasn’t training or on a mission, he was laying on the couch in the waiting room reading while Carina continued her job with Piper. He didn’t like leaving her alone, which was fine with Carina, because she didn’t want to be alone. She’d had more than one nightmare about Brock’s hands around her neck and was immensely grateful to be woken up by Bucky’s scent and gentle touches as he soothed her back to sleep in the comfort of his arms. 

“Ya, of course. I’ll be there to see you off.” Carina pressed her lips to his for a brief moment before her phone rang. Answering it she waved to Bucky as he left. They were heading out on a mission to track down a rumored Hydra sleeper cell that was still small but growing. The night before Bucky had expressed his frustration that no matter how many hideouts and cells they destroyed, there always seemed to be more. 

Carina had tried to distract him with a kiss that promised more but Bucky had simply smiled before tucking her into him and proceeding to pass out. Carina huffed, thinking of it now as she set up an appointment for the possible new investor on the phone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know Wanda, he doesn’t want to make a move.” Carina pouted, moving to grab another piece of pizza from the box. 

Wanda refilled their wine as she replied, “And you’ve told him you’re ready for the next step?” 

“Well… I have been dropping really good hints.” Carina busied herself picking the fuzz off of her leggings to avoid Wanda’s raised eyebrow. “What?” she finally conceded when Wanda kept staring at her. 

“You were assaulted, Carina. He’s not going to make a move until he is 100% sure that’s what you want.” she sighed, turning to face her on the couch fully. “Look, I try not to dig into people’s thoughts and feelings. But sometimes the really strong ones are impossible to ignore. Carina, Bucky loves you, he’s yours for the taking.”

Carina nodded while chewing on her thumbnail, rolling her eyes and grinning when Wanda raised another eyebrow at her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky groaned as he collapsed into the seat beside Steve on the quinjet. “You ever think we’re getting too old for this?”

Steve laughed in response, leaning his head back against the wall. “Well we are almost a century older than these pups.” 

“We should talk to Pepper about our retirement plans.” Bucky grinned in response. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes. 

“Speaking of settling down Barnes…” Natasha appeared in front of them, looking like they hadn’t just been ambushed by over a hundred men. “When are you and Carina making things official?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, the question had been tearing at him the last couple weeks. He wanted Carina, badly. Keeping himself from taking things past kissing and cuddling was taking all the restraint he had some days. They had said the words but everytime they were on the brink, something came up. “She was assaulted Nat, she needs time to recover.” 

“Does she still? Or does she need to be reassured that you still want her?” she grinned when Bucky looked insulted before standing up and walking to the front of the jet. 

“I want her Steve…” he trailed off. “But she’s innocent, I don’t want to hurt her.” He huffed, turning a pleading gaze to his best friend. 

Steve’s face turned wistful, staring off as if he was remembering something from the past. “Don’t make the same mistake I did Bucky. I never got the chance with Peggy and I regret it everyday. She made me feel like Carina makes you feel. If I had even the slightest chance of going back and making her mine, I would do it.” His eyes refocus and he claps Bucky on the back, standing when Natasha lets them know they would be landing at the compound in 5 minutes. 

Bucky is the first one at the ramp when it’s lowered, smiling at the sight of Carina standing next to Piper and Wanda just off the landing pad. She looks radiant in a halter top maxi dress, the blowing wind revealing a slit on one side that flashes him a glimpse of her legs. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carina takes a deep breath when she hears the shower turn off. She was ready, she wanted this, she wanted Bucky to be hers. She smiled at him when he exited his bedroom clad in a pair of sweats and a tank top, rubbing a towel through his hair. Here goes. “Bucky? Have you thought about…taking this further?” He’s frozen staring at her and she swallows before continuing. “I thought we were planning on it, and I know I was hurt but that was weeks ago and now I…” 

“I never stop thinking about it.” His bold statement cuts off her chatter. He approaches her tentatively, stopping short of touching her. His hands clenching at his sides “I didn’t want to push you. You were injured and you’ve never done this.” 

Her cheeks heat up and she looks down, “How do you know that?” 

His hand reaches out, gently pushing her chin up so he can look her in the eyes. “Your scent, it’s too pure. You smell like fresh baked cookies and warm bread. The moment I caught that scent I was hooked, I knew you were it for me.” 

“Bucky.” His name is soft on her lips.

He doesn’t waste any time pulling her into his arms and pouring all of his love and emotion into a breathtaking kiss. Her hands immediately found their way under his shirt, pulling a groan from him when she lightly ran her nails up over his abs so she could pull his shirt off.

Walking them backwards until they hit the wall Bucky pulled the string holding the top of her dress up exposing her breasts to him. A whimper escaped her when his mouth captured one of the hardened peaks and his calloused hand palmed the other one. Her whimpers became a moan when he pulled back to pull on the other strings holding her dress. 

“Bucky!” her shocked cry made him grin when he growled and tore the dress to shreds, tossing the pieces behind him. 

“I’ll buy you a million more, but anything between me and this beautiful body is going to take some casualties.” He panted, letting his eyes run over her form. 

“Bucky, please.” Carina whispered, biting her lip as she rubbed her thighs together.

With a groan, he soothes it with his mouth on hers again before bending, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her up his body. He smiles at her sharp gasp when she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing her core into contact with the erection that was straining against his sweats. 

Walking into the bedroom he places her gently on the bed, following her down, catching her lips again before backing up and pulling off his pants and boxers grinning at her quick inhale when his erection is freed and bobs towards his stomach. 

Crawling back onto the bed he hovers over her, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss before beginning a slow descent down her body. Peppering kisses down her neck and across her collarbone before pausing to nip each nipple. Grinning against her skin when she jumps at the sensation before continuing down her stomach. She whimpers slightly when he skips down to her ankles, then begins to press kisses up her leg. She lets out a small gasp when he gently licks once across her clit before continuing down her other leg to her ankle. 

Releasing her ankle, he spreads her legs, eyes locked on hers as his mouth descends to her core. Her gasp turns into a moan as his tongue flicks over her clit and he slides one finger  inside. He groans against her flesh when he feels her wetness and slowly slides another finger in, his tongue continuing the assault on her clit. 

Her hands shoot to his hair and she pulls on the strands. “Bucky please, please” her pants are barely a whisper and he smiles up at her. 

“Gotta make sure you’re ready doll. Don’t want to hurt you.” He swipes his tongue the entire length of her slit and groans. “You taste as good as you smell.” 

Her breaths turn to pants as his fingers pick up speed and he sucks on her clit. His name is a chant from her lips as her back bows and an orgasm crashes over her. Bucky helps her ride it out before pressing another kiss to her clit. 

He crawls up her body until his arms are bracketed on either side of her head and she pulls him down into a kiss. “Make me yours Bucky, in every way.” she whispers, pulling back to look into his eyes, hoping he can see how much she means it.

“It feels like I've waited a hundred lifetimes for this.” he says, palming his erection. 

“Don’t wait any longer.” Carina grins, shimmying her hips at him. 

Bucky enters her slowly, savoring the whimper as she stretches around him. Stopping when he feels her tense beneath him. “Are you alright?”

Carina bites her lip and nods. “Ya…just go slow?” 

Bucky nods, pressing a kiss to her forehead before continuing achingly slowly. By the time his hips meet hers, his arms are nearly shaking from the restraint required to not plunge himself into her tight heat.

Carina breathes deeply, almost overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness. She bucks her hips experimentally and they both groan as pleasure washes over them. 

“Sweetheart you can’t do that and expect me to hold still” Bucky grits out. She bucks again, giving Bucky a mischievous grin. Taking that as permission, he pulls out part way and then thrusts back in. His pace starts out gentle but increases as they both give in to the yearning. 

Writhing under him, Carina’s moans urge him onwards until they are both close to their peak. “Bucky, I'm…”

“I know baby, I'm with you. Doing so good little Omega.” Bucky soothes and Carina instinctively  turns her head to the side, baring her mating gland to him. The small growl is the only warning he gives her before he sinks his teeth into her. 

White hot pleasure shoots through Carina as her climax hits and their bond snaps into place. She feels Bucky come seconds later, roaring her name. It feels like ages before her breathing returns to normal. Bucky is laying half on her and she turns her head to look at him, wincing as it pulls on the bite. 

“It should heal quickly.” Bucky smiles at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder. 

“I’m yours now.” Carina says softly as she lightly touches his mark.

Bucky shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead and his voice is thick. “No baby, I'm yours.”