#in realizing that I don't have a clear image for how the Old God's face looks in my head- here's avatar!Branwen.

[dearestaeneas]

DON'T YOU WANT TO BECOME A CULT LEADER? SINCE THE DEATH OF GOD, THERE'S BEEN A VACANCY. YOU CAN FILL THAT VOID.

[45622211111]

whenever you prayed to god for a companion - an angel on your side to guide you through life and make times less lonely - the devil himself has made it his very own purpose to never let that happen.

you had read the folklore on him. too many theoretical assumptions exist on his origin and how "misguided" most of them were, according to some history graduate's blog. he's either bad or… well, definitely never entirely good. one source states he was a conjoined twin who got purchased by a sick bastard and then killed off for his own sadistic tendencies.

some say he originates from the mountain, his complexion too powerful for the human eye. so, he becomes a kannon statue, spiritually guiding locals. others assume he was first found in a cave in full armor. sometimes he is a mere human who tries to escape his enemies. sometimes he kills a dragon with the spear in his four arms.

however, one urban legend goes as following: a group of foreign men try to dismantle an old temple. a giagantic wooden box lays in front of them. the head abbot warns them - do whatever you have to but don't open it. the manager returns the next day and greets the workers. they don't speak nor move. the cascet is open. a monk arrives. "i deeply apologize. you won't live long lives." a purification ritual won't save them butbhe can try. the affected ones are long gone.

the manager checks the paper glued to the box. the kanjis are loud and clear.

ryomen sukuna.

your first… ecounter wasn't really the first. there is no official date or day in the calender you could mark in retrospect. it just happened. like friendships, they bound throughout time without feeling the need to put a label on it.

except, the mean girls back at your high school couldn't come close to the curse on your left side.

"brat, you look absolutely disgusting."

oh, how you wish you could turn back time. you would confess: "yeah… you're targetting girls who don't give a shit about you and treat those who seek your validation like subordinates. for being hormonal monsters though? damn, it really gets worse from here on. sorry, i wasn't familiar with your game."

you are what? a month and a few weeks into this. you have learned not to cry or ruminate over his words. he is only a voice in your head, you repeat. now it is a mindset, hearing him bicker around like a free podcast that you try to pause with slippery fingers.

"i'm talking to you, woman."

"too bad, you have no face to do that- or should i say two-faced?"

you know that he knows that you know that his verbal impact on you has lost most of its value - to be exact, the insults he would throw at you at the most random moments. he makes you nostalgic - like you are time-travelling back to school. means it's nothing you haven't experienced yet. you realize that life will always put you in a room with at least one person who can't seem to stand you for whatever reason. oh, and you are stuck with him forever. hah! you can't escape him. might as well prepare as early as you can.

"what are you doing?"

"blocking proshippers on my tumblr."

you always thought he has limited access to you - that he could only reach you through nice small-talks. after all, he hasn't reached out to you for longer unless it is about how useless you apparently are.

turns out, he has control over you. when you think about it, he can basically see you whenever, wherever. the first weeks you refused to change out of your pyjamas. toilet breaks in the dark weren't allowed to last longer than needed. kinda reminds you of the sprints you would take whenever the lights in the halls were shut off at night.

you can't hear him but can imagine a scowl, theoratically speaking. you couldn't find images other than the google photographs of his statues or various ancient drawings.

"is staying in this cave of yours all you are capable of."

"didn't seem to bother you weeks ago." you swipe across your page, the light of your screen highlighting your droopy eyelids.

"woman, you can't do the same everyday, it's getting tiresome. you modern peasants are good-for-nothings - all gone soft. you wouldn't survive a day in my era, tch."

now that you give it a thought, for months you have been hiding in your room. the fear of your new guest making you look like a clown in public made you hesitant. talking about your non-existent social connections! - you haven't shared your little secret with anyone, yet.

eventually you had to get out for school.

the train station isn't as packed despite it being a thursday. the sky is a greyish blue, the sun shining through the clouds just enough. students and office workers in attire pass by. people order from the cozy underground bakeries. the smell of buttery pastry mixed with gas penetrates your nostrils. a smile forms on your lips at the familiar atmosphere.

you ascend the concrete stairs, careful not to clash into the rushing kids. something behind you echoes with a vibrating impact.

"hey girl, you good?" you ask, yet, you move onwards again unless you wanted to get morphed into jam by the mass. you catch another girl helping the high schooler by collecting some items from the floor, then they sprint away.

"weak."

you shake your head. is he serious? "why would you say that." it's not a question. you are occupied with not overrunning the group of seniors in front of you. the sounds of rails' screeching are audible.

he exhales, dragging the interjection with what sounds akin to disbelief.

"look at these losers depending on each other as if the ground will swallow them if they move fast. can't believe this is what humans have become - old and weak. it's pathetic."

you always see how people in wheel chairs rush to the station, faces painted with fear as the doors close on them. or how the tactile guides on the floors are blocked by the rest who seem to suddenly be in dire need of the earth's space - as if they couldn't act different for a second.

"you love to look down on others, don't you? - belittling anyone and anything that isn't you, huh?" there was no way you could explain him basic decency without getting a breakdown under the concrete roof.

"ahh, aren't you one to learn quick? i do whatever i desire, brat." the tone in his last words goes down, new in comparison to his nonchalant bickering you would normally get to hear.

you don't - or can't risk provocating him further. your skin is getting warm and you would rather save yourself from getting emotional.

next: shibuya station.

you enter the white train as the last person, immediately sitting down on a seat near the exit. your mouth and throat are dry, arms tensing as you burry them in your pockets. an announcement goes through and in the next second, the doors close.

the mesmerizing view of trees and small houses surrounding a lake enters, making you lean back and try to enjoy it. you ask yourself why you feel so moody and suddenly feel reality creep into you. what felt like an episode of hallicunations or the after-effects of surfing the internet for too long, you still find yourself struggling with the same question: why?

not even anonymous questions on forums come close to contemporary enlightenment. you wouldn't want to fall victim to the horrendous waiting area of your family doctor. you weren't desperate enough to get a one-way ticket to an asylum for speaking on what you struggle with. they are usually cautious with diagnosing patients for various health concerns but would fill out a form to transfer you to any facility before you could even blink.

you weren't crazy, you were just talking back to the voice inside your head. does that sound crazy?

the warm shades light up the train, the pane coloured in oranges and browns. you close your eyes at the contact. opening them, you let your gaze wander around the room. the seats across you were empty, a lady reading her daily newspaper. ahead, there are two students around your own age. one has spiky white hair that was shining in the light, a brunette next to him.

you must have been eyeing him for too long as he meets your gaze. before you can even try to act uninterested, he gives you a lazy smile. dark patches surround his lower lash lines, the corners of his eyes squeezing with sincerity.

you turn your head away and don't dare to look at him until he exits at the next station.

your clothing flutters as the bus drives away. taking a few steps, you are framed by green. the soft breeze dances around you. is that gratitude that you feel right now? you breath out and decide to walk along the path. as long as you could just relish the tranquility it would be fine.

as long as.

a harsh tug makes your shoulder fly back, not being able to bite down a groan. what a son of a bitch, you huff. all these men are of the same species indeed.

"what are you doing here?" your brows furrow at the sickening grin. what type of question is that supposed to be?

"what do you mean?" you bark back.

you were too busy trying to understand his behaviour to notice where you are.

zen'in estate. extra engraved in platinum, because there is enough money to throw into the air.

"for applications as a cleaning lady you're at the wrong place."

normally, you don't mind the term he is using. you have always respected their work, since school times, no matter if they tried to throw you out for re-entering the class late to collect your books. but no, that wasn't the problem.

you couldn't allow his shit-eating face to talk to you in that voice.

"well, uh, i'm a barber. i heard they need a life-saving trim and bleach to safe some rusty and split ends. seems like i'm at the right place, sir." your hand scratches the back of your neck, your face slightly pouting.

here we go.

his nose stretches, mouth and eyes going sour. he weirdly breaks his necks to the side. you didn't lie about his head.

before you know it, you are being showed back, amost crashing down on the asphalt. your heart rate speeds up, your lips separating. has this man just touched you? not only that, he moves towards the mansion as if he hasn't physically violated you.

it wouldn't be the first time you would get into a fight with a male, nuh uh, the annoying boys in elementary school have and will always be the blue print. too bad there isn't a female teacher who is going to baby him.

instead, you have a literal curse on your side - only symbolically of course. you were quite keen on proving him something. yes, you were riled up to get rid of the tension in your body. enough is enough.

your jelly legs carry you to his stairs. you form a fist and strike out, your arm moving with the entire weight of your body.

pam!

his head bends forward. you are satisfied with the vista, his posture still bent over. you pant loudly. oh god.

your legs move. you swear you could have stumbled down.

the look of the empty street worries you a bit too much for your own standard. the adrenaline doesn't let you stop until you are in the company of a filled main street, minutes later. you huff and puff, head scanning for a white head with black, ugly ends. what was he even on? he should have a serious conversation about his hair instead of hitting women.

it not like you don't already share a room with a mysoginist. are you a perhaps a magnet? and if so, why?

but you can't fight the feeling of accomplishment. something akin to the superheroes in your favourite comics. the pride and encouragement you would sense whenever you read them. girl, you are her. you can't help the grin on your face as you head to the restaurant in the middle of the street. if you don't indulge now, then when? there couldn't be a more perfect timing for this. you wouldn't want to go home to his nagging yet.

"i have to say… i wasn't expecting it from you."

you roll your eyes. there wasn't the need for you to answer him, especially not with the music blasting in the saloon. the saliva in your mouth is assembling as the aroma of food engulfs you.

"brat, i'm talking to you."

"..."

"disrespectful brat."

"… oh wow, nasty by tinashe, what a banger."

finally, the waitress drops by with your order. you interchange smiles. the second she walks away, you sink your teeth into the big sandwich. finally. spices, bread and meat overflow your tastebuds. the sauce makes you shake your head in an impressed manner. at the end of the day, food was the only component in your day-to-day that has never dissapointed you. no chance.

"what are you shaking your head like a drunk busker, tch, some things don't change with you humans."

another bite. you are too chill to respond, hack, you don't hear him anymore. you take a sip of your beverage.

"what's that?"

you chew.

"what's what?"

"the thing you're eating."

oh. you can't help but burb. the food is very fulfilling, you didn't care how grossed out he must have appeared.

"it's döner."

"..."

if he somehow wanted you to make him give a piece of your meal - although that was impossible - that was still a big no. he doesn't deserve it. and even if it is possible, you would have already gulped down the döner before he could physically descend. the thought alone is creepy but that was for another time to contemplate.

"what's the other thing." he must have taken notice of the images in the menu.

"ah, you mean kebab?" you can't escape the slices of meat that shout "eat me! eat me!" and you again indulge the flavour. you take joy in imagining his face - disgusted, corner tucked down as he crosses his arms. his four arms. you are being reminded of his four legs. god, make it go away.

"what's the difference?"

hmm, wouldn't you want to know that, weatherboy? - is what you would have said, if you weren't nice.

"so this has bread-"

"i can see that brat."

"uh… seriously, good question. so, kebab is eaten on a plate with… maybe tomato sauce, rice and salad and other side dishes. döner is the thing that turns around on that stick," you point at the open kitchen behind the bar, "and is served in thin slices in this pide. this is an invention by turkish migrant workers in 70s' germany if i remember correctly," you raise the bread with the sesame seeds. now that you have possibly answered his question, you take your last bite.

"what's german about it then?"

"i don't know - the country?

"hmm."

ideas for this series are welcome (sfw) virgin (proudly), loser, loner, asocial reader x antique sukuna curse. reblogs are appreciated. hope this is a enjoyable??

❂　(sukuna ryomen x loser!reader(fem))

[cheerstotheelites-if]

❛ i just want you to know... that this is really nice. ❜ for Fleur and Weylyn if you're cool with it!

Prompt list

Oh yeh no problem I gotchu, sweetie 😎👍

~•~•~

Oh, and to tell you is too scary So I'll just say something else And I wish that you could hear me When I talk to myself But this plane might not land safely So, what the hell do I have to lose If I just tell you?

– Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzy McAlpine

~•~•~

Walking around the little city of Delphinium into the early hours of evening is not how Weylyn thought things would go after their little lunch. Being in such a rural area, there isn't much to do. There isn't a mall they could spend their remaining time in, with the nearest one being in the next city that's a four hour drive away. There's no theme park to ride thrill seeking rides or win prizes. No arcades for that spark of adrenaline in winning. There is an ocean, though it's below the cliffsides at a fifty foot drop with jagged rocks. As much as Delphinium likes to call itself a city, it's more of a place with the bare necessities; residential areas, schools, local establishments for business, a small hospital and a few other medical places.

In other words, it has more open, untouched land than anything else.

But its people make do. Despite how old fashioned home is, the relaxed and quiet atmosphere is better than the endless bustling and rush of the capital city and those similar to it.

The two stop at one of the old stone bridges; sides covered in moss and ivy as down below is a lazy little river that runs through. There are old fashioned lamp posts, tall and black, with its paint flaking off from age and revealing the rust underneath. The stars twinkled above them and the moon shining high as they both leaned their back against the stone railing, simply enjoying the breeze that passes by.

"So," Weylyn starts, clasping his hands infront of him, "that's that, huh..."

Fleur hums in reply with a nod, eyes focused onto the river that reaches to the tree line of a forest just beyond them. Her arms are folded across her chest, her coat wrapped around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry today wasn't that, you know, exciting," the boy, with eyes that can hold the warmth of a god, apologizes with a sheepish rub at the nape of his neck, "I would've brought you somewhere better if I could."

"I'd like to think otherwise." The girl, with a voice as soothing as a loving touch, gently protests with a hum. "I think today has been really nice."

"What do you mean?"

Fleur looks at him with a small tilt of her head. "Well, for starters, you're here."

"... Ah."

Weylyn clears his throat as he looks away, cheeks flushed as fluster racks his entire body. Gods above, he might just throw up the churro he had earlier from how badly his stomach is doing flips. The soft chuckle from Fleur only makes his fluster grow even more.

"I... I know my sickness limits me from being able to do a lot of things with you," Fleur continues, a small sigh escaping her, "I should be the one apologizing for being an inconvenience for hindering the more exciting things we could be doing, really."

"Don't call yourself that." Weylyn immediately protests, looking at her with a frown of disapproval. "You're not an inconvenience to me, nor to anyone for having that sickness. Sure, we couldn't go on a long forest hike like we originally had planned, but I really enjoyed just spending time just idly walking around Delphinium with you and talking to you. Just... Just simply being with you is enough for me, even if we were just sitting around the park with nothing to do."

And the world stills, for Weylyn at least, as the realization sets in. As his brain catches up to process the little admission his mouth blurted out. Truly, his Tad and Mam were right when they said, "From the overflow of your heart, the mouth speaks". The image of the wrinkled smug smiles of both his parents makes his face once again flush deeply. He quickly looks away from Fleur and folds in on himself, covering his bright red face with both his hands.

"Did I just say that?" He asks in a flustered mumble.

"Yes," Fleur replies, "you did."

Gods, take him away already.

Weylyn groans. The tips of his ears are now the same bright red. "I'm sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable or weird, Fleur."

"Well, if I were to be completely honest with you," Fleur clears her throat, as if to compose herself, "I... It's really sweet of you to think of it that way. I really enjoyed our time together, Weylyn. Simply being with you is also enough for me, so... thank you for all of this, and all your efforts to make this fun for the both of us."

Weylyn turns his head to look at her, now seeing the small delicate smile that curls the corner of her lips and the faintest bit of red dusting her cheeks. He can't help the slanted smile that tugs at the edge of his lips as he straightens up.

"Thank you too for being here with me to experience it."

[lynxbatics]

I may... have gone insane and started writing a fanfic with Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent at the aftermath of the Wayne family murders. (We need more Bruce and Harvey being best friends content)

Like all comic book writers, I kinda messed with the timeline a bit and made it so that Harvey knew Bruce before his parent's deaths. Bruce and Harvey are supposed to be around eleven years old here.

Anyways here's what I've written so far!!

Alfred could not imagine a more horrible thing.

The Waynes... Martha and Thomas, whom he loved so dearly - gone. He could hardly bear to think of the two of them gunned down in an alleyway, with Bruce unable to do anything to stop it. An awful death for the two people that least deserved it.

The police had arrived much too late, finding Bruce huddled on the ground of the alley, tears streaming down his face and hands gripping his mother's clothes, unable to let go.

They had told Alfred that Bruce was unable to say anything about what had transpired. He hadn't said a word since they had found him.

But Alfred had heard his sobbing at night and that was all he needed to hear.

Rain soaked streets.

The exiting of a theater.

Blood and pearls scattered in the night.

Carried by the rain into the sewers of Gotham.

Gone, just like Bruce's mother and father were.

Alfred shook his head, hoping to clear away the images his brain conjured up at the thought. He did not want to dwell on what Thomas and Martha might have looked in their final moments.

But the Wayne family murders seemed to be the only thing anyone else wanted to talk about. The paparazzi outside of Wayne Manor was proof of that. Dozens of people making camp outside of their home, hoping to get the first look at little Bruce after the tragedy.

It was awful.

It seemed like, to the paparazzi, Bruce Wayne was no more than a character from a film. One who you could watch from a distance. Separate from reality.

Heaven forbid that he was an actual person with feelings, who would be affected by a dozen strangers camping out on his front lawn, asking how he felt about his mother and father having had their brains blown out.

It had gotten so bad that in between the phone calls offering their condolences there were some from reporters hoping to talk to the last remaining Wayne.

Alfred could not fathom how some people thought calling for that was a god idea. The nerve.

He had already disconnect most of the phones. One was left connected, in case of emergencies, but everything else remained unplugged.

It so happened that said phone kept ringing. It angered Alfred greatly. He had already hung up without bothering to check who it was around five times already.

The phone rang again.

Alfred stared at it for a moment, realizing that it would be better to get the phone call over with. He picked it up, trying not to let his irritation show.

"Oh good!" The voice was distorted but relieved, happy to finally have someone pick up the phone. "I've called like a million times already! You kept hanging up!"

"I'm sorry, who is this?" Alfred replied, as dry as possible. His finger hovered over the phone's hook switch.

"Alfred? It's Harvey!" the voice said, disbelieving.

Embarrassment crept into Alfred's cheeks. How had he not recognized Harvey's loud and bombastic tone? He cleared his throat, "Ah, yes, I'm sorry Harvey. What can I do for you?"

"It's alright," Harvey mumbled, "I was calling to ask... well, about Bruce."

He paused, as he prepared to make his next question.

"Is... is he alright?" he asked, voice softer. The question was absurd. Of course Bruce was not doing well. But Alfred realized that Harvey was genuinely worried, but didn't know what to say.

"I... I heard the news. On the bus." Poor boy, Alfred thought, what was a best friend to do in a situation like this?

"Do you think I could talk to him?" Harvey asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't think that would be a good idea. He's not in the mood to talk to anyone."

"Maybe I could come over?" Harvey prompted, "I could just... be there. He wouldn't need to talk."

Alfred glanced at the hallway, which led to Bruce's room. He wondered wether he would appreciate Harvey coming. He had not been very responsive to Alfred's attempts to coax him out.

"I'm afraid that would be wrong. Bruce's upset and grieving."

"Please. I need to see him." Harvey's tone grew desperate. "I want to be there."

Guilt clawed its way up Alfred's throat.

"Alright."

He heard a rush of air breathed into the phone's receiver. "Thank you Alfred!" He heard muffled talking as Harvey held the phone up to his chest to silence a conversation he was having with someone. After a moment, he spoke, voice clear again, "I can be there in a couple of minutes."

"I'll be on the lookout," Alfred replied, "Careful with the reporters."

He moved the phone away from his ear.

"Reporters?" He heard Harvey's voice rise as he hung up.

Alfred wondered wether he had made the right decision. He knew that Harvey always managed to get Bruce's spirits up, and if there was someone who could get him to talk it was him. Still, he worried that he wouldn't be able to handle it. The Waynes had been like a second family to Harvey. Their death had surely affected him.

He looked at the phone for a moment, wondering if Harvey would actually show up. He figured that he had to be at school, given the hour. Perhaps he had been talking to the principal, asking for permission to cut class.

Alfred shrugged, he had to give him credit for his persistence.

[pineapple-crow]

Alright, heres my rant for the night because I'm tired, cranky, and made the mistake of peeking at the #tradblr side of this hellscape.

I absolutely hate how the shitty alt right fascist conservative bullshit has permeated things that on face value are very much excellent.

Some examples, especially as they relate to me:

Pastel femininity - we're pretty familiar with this though I might be using the wrong term. It's all pastel colors (esp pink), pretty flowers, gold and marble, bows and ribbons, dresses, pretty hair, pretty makeup, and a soft cotton candy cloud aesthetic and shit that evoke the idea of a "soft," "gentle" feminine energy. I love that shit! I don't look like someone who does but I love this aesthetic so much. I think this aesthetic should be enjoyed by anyone regardless of their "usual" presentation or gender expression. AND YET you have these buffoons using it to push "tRaDiTiOnAl WoMaNhOoD" (that's often co-opted with cis whiteness and rejection of the idea that any gender, skin tone, or ethnicity can look gorgeous in pastel pink and roses). Which leads me to my next point...

Cottagecore - just like pastels, cottage core sparks joy in me and I also really love it's representation, especially when combined with the idea of being a homemaker (y'know in that near unobtainable fantasy where all bills are paid for and you can just make bread and weave yarn or whatever). Despite being the current breadwinner in my relationship, I also absolutely love the thought of staying in my own lil cottage and cleaning and doing house upkeep and just baking and shit. Vibing with nature and mindfulness. I DON'T love traditionalist religious nuts (mostly christians but, y'know) who use it to push tRaDiTiOnAl gender roles. No fuck you the moment that shit becomes forced, it's not fun anymore. Anybody should have the freedom to choose to be a homemaker, whether you're a wife/girlfriend, husband/boyfriend, spouse/partner, or That One Friend who has a knack for NOT accidentally making chloroform while cleaning the bathroom! Fuck traditional gender roles and forcing people to be pigeonholed into them without any choice! (And that's not even getting into how toxic it is when it comes to relationships, even hetero relationships! My husband and I realized he was taught how to be a husband (fix cars, fix the house, go to work for the entire day and drink beer/immediately unwind after getting home) but not how to be a partner (help with scheduling appointments, share a portion of the chores, do the chores without being told, other "" womanly"" tasks). That's terrible!)

Heathenry/paganism - SPEAKING OF RELIGION I hate hate hate that I have this constant concern of becoming involved/associated with/platforming white nationalists and Nazis. Fuck Nazis, fuck white nationalists, I have very violent thoughts about them. Heathenry in all its forms, to include Norse Heathenry, is open to all! Not to get too religious but the gods don't care where you or your family comes from! The gods don't care if you're able to stand outside for longer than 10 minutes without turning into a peeling lobster! To use the gods as a method of control or pushing your idiotic hate filled vitriol is to spit on Their image! To say the gods care about whether or not you have 0.01% German/Icelandic/Swiss heritage in your blood is a horribly restrictive box to put the gods in! Not to mention it ALSO gets used to push heteronormative gender roles! Get fucked! I hate that I have to be conscious of my presentation of my faith or else I'll be lumped in with half brain nitwits who smell like weeks old unwashed ass and think their pube face is on the same level as the viking warriors! Tho shit maybe it is who am I to know, fuck bro.

Let me make one point clear. I don't hate that I have to be mindful/critical of the information I absorb, and the actions/words I put out into the world to represent myself. That's okay! That's normal! That should be encouraged! What I DON'T like is the fact that Nazis made some shit up, slapped it on the face of paganism/Heathenry, and have made it so prominent that there is this CONSTANT concern of being lumped in with a group I Do Not Tolerate and, again, have Very Violent Thoughts towards.

Just...aakajsjdjfkgktkd there's so much more I could say on this but I'm really really tired. I didn't think I'd get this heated over it. Anyway I'll finish by saying tradwives/tradhusbands, white nationalists, homophobes, transphobes/TERFS, and Nazis can go shove a pineapple up their asses.

[reallilystuff]

HOOHOOOOO IM. midgame i think. not sure how far in it is but the sky's red like in the og games. the plot is getting JUICY we're getting to the MEAT AND POTATOES.

quick warning for a whole ramble abt my thoughts on Pokemon Legends Arceus characters n stuff under the read more i'm not exaggerating its LONG (for my standards, considering my usual short lil posts), probably has mild spoilers

also cogita....she so purrrdy..... i was actually wondering when she was gonna be coming along since i've seen so much debate over her connection to cynthia. wondering if volo and cogita are actually related or if they just look really similar. it's actually bothering me

about the blond bi twink with long hair previously mentioned, i don't think volos going to be THAT bad. all i know about him is he has an end battle (saw a soundtrack thumbnail on youtube a long while back something about a wielder??? does he like. wield simps bc thats all i see on pinterest comments 😭) and i've HEARD he's a little shit but idk how and im dodging spoilers like my life DEPENDS on it. he LOOKS so evil tho. he's just a lil creeture tho...... mans is CHILLING over here.

speaking of little shit. KAMADO. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS GUY. OHHHH MY GOD. "yeahhh send the 15 year old out. just get that guy out of here. if they die then rip bozo lawl" WHAT IS HIS PROBLEMMMMM.... tbh i think he's actually gonna end up being evil or something. as like. a lil twist. as a treat. cyllene's kinda goated tho. she's like. warm and icy at the same time. does that make sense. i think she has SO much character potential rn and its making my brain run at jet speeds

everytime i see rei that poor little meow meow has a funnier face expression. speaking of which im starting to wonder if barry has an ancestor at all??? where is he. put up the missing posters. that little weirdo was one of my faves back when i played pokemon pearl. LET ME SEE HIM....NOW!!! 🌩

sabi is cheryl i think!!! and cheryl mention makes me so happy

that avalugg bossfight had me fucking TERRIFIED btw. i swear what is it with the games i've been playing recently making me realize i have whole ass new fears (roblox pressure and this one because HOOOOLY THAT THANG WAS HUGE. I DIDN'T EXPECT NEITHER THE TRENCHBLEEDERS(pressure) NOR THE AVALUGG TO BE THAT MASSIVE.) that particular boss fights funny because like. dark souls type boss fight + touhou(its likely not touhou but the bullet patterns reminded me of it). it's a good day to be an infernape user

irida's really starting to grow on me tbh kinda thought she was annoying at first and also. she just. teleports to you after battles i swear how does she TRAVEL that fast. girlies sprinting over to themc just to argue with adaman right in front of us. but like!! she's actually just cool!!! also holy shit some of the dialogue the pearl clan givesyou makes me feel bad for her (and also mild relatability emphasis on mild)

also lots of adaman simps too weirdly enough??? don't get it tbh he's just a guy. is it the eyeliner. the hair. what is it.

nothing to say about lian or mai bc i have no idea who their descendants are supposed to be. i think mais ancestor was in platinum? so that probably explains it but idk who lians is. is it that one person from alola with the donkey i forgot their name. i don't have a clear image so that might make me sound bonkers if im off WAIT NO I REMEMBER IT WAS THE GIRL WITH THE BRAIDS. yeah probably not related. think their eyes just looked similar in my head. anyways

nothing to say about melli but i saw an image that just said he's bi but no one wants him and YEAH LMFAOO. i kinda dig the disgusted expressions he has they're just. so evident. lmao. thought he was a girl up until they mentioned him with he/him pronouns and it was like WHA....... oh okay cool. also thought he was fantinas ancestor (give me a break it's been a while since i've played any pokemon game) bc.....porple hair....yea.....

idk what else to say other than my only complaint is HOOOOLY the character customization in this game is barren. i think kalos spoiled me with all its prettiness and cute outfits ngl but DAMN can i get ONE. PASTEL PINK. ITEM. and not hot barbie pink. no hate to that shade it just doesn't look right with this games lighting to me, it just appears kinda red/purple instead. other than that i'm fucking mcloving it so far.

another thing there is a singular black hairstyle which. eh i guess it's one step towards improvement (kalos didnt have that i think? cant remember) but im REALLY hoping legends za has more black-aligned hairstyles when it comes along. PLEASE I CANT KEEP DOING STRAIGHT HAIR. PLEAASE. braids cornrows curly hair space buns dreads theres SO MUCH TO EXPLORE. idk if i'll buy scarlet/violet but im hoping that game actually has options since i've heard nice things abt the hair customization. other than that i aint know nothing

but also like. really hoping this is just midgame bc i feel like the warden/noble things went by SO fast....im 60 hours in and most of it was shiny hunting (that kadabra changed something in my brain i'm never going to be the same). if i spend only another hour playing and the game ends im gonna be so sad like actually. especially because i think im overlevelled rn so the games already pretty easy (ranging from lv. 67 to 72 i think?)

swear to god i need to stop being late to every fandom i arrive in i cant take having to dodge spoilers like this while needing to know everything abt the game 💀

on a better note the nostalgia crying i experienced is starting to wear down thankfully, i mean its not a bad thing anyways it was just. starting to kinda annoy me lol

slenderarceus be like Collect my Pokemon

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Darling, you will bury me before I bury you | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This got weird and kind of sad? Literally do not know where this came from aside from me listening to Ya'aburnee by Halsey this morning.

TW: talk of death

Please message me with any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions! 💜

If you'd like to read the inverse of this story, check out Do You Want to Die Together?

“And if we don’t live forever,

maybe one day we’ll trade places.

Darling, you will bury me

before I bury you.”

Sometimes when you couldn't sleep and your anxiety got the best of you, your mind would wander to weird places. All too often, it wandered too far and started thinking about the life expectancy of a super soldier. Bucky was strong, he didn't get sick, and any injury he did sustain healed incredibly quickly.

But how long would he be around?

He was already 106. "106 is fucking old", you thought, "How much time do I have with him?"

You'd only just gotten the nerve to tell him you had feelings for him. Only last month did you start sleeping in his room with him. You fell hard and fast for this man and if he died before you, you'd lose your mind.

He had such a dangerous job. People constantly shot at him and lunged at him with knives. It seemed like he was always jumping out of planes with no parachute or clinging to the roof of a moving car. He lived hard and fast. Iit scared you.

"Hey, sweetheart. You okay?" Bucky’s groggy words pulled you from your spiral. You must've woken him with all of your tossing and turning.

You rolled over to face him, and put a hand up to his cheek. "Yeah. I'm fine," you whispered as you stroked his stubble. Bucky rolled his eyes. He could always tell when you were lying. All he had to do was wait for you to spill what was bothering you.

"Buck... I-I'm sorry, I know this is morbid. But-" you paused. "I'm just worried about- how long are you gonna live...?".m Your question hung in the air. The silence crept into your ears and made them ring-it was aggressively quiet. "God, I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Bucky gave a little chuckle. "Well, I think it's a fair question," he said. "I don't know the answer, though. I'm over a hundred years old and I'm still kickin'. And I've successfully survived every attempt on my life thus far.” He grew more solemn, more serious. “But sometimes I do think about..." his voice trailed off.

"You think about what?"

Another long, quiet moment passed. "I think about... you, doll. And how fragile you are, comparatively speaking. Your life could end in a second, and I just-I don't want to outlive you". His statement hit you like a ton of bricks. All of the air left your lungs and you had to sit up to properly fill them again.

Bucky leaned over and turned on the lamp next to his bed. You stared at each other, both contemplating the others' mortality. "It just wouldn't be fair," Bucky murmured. "I've lived such a long life already. I want you to out live me, sweets. I've been around long enough.”

Your heart punched against your ribs, “Buck, no. I don’t- I can’t live without you. I can’t lose you. I have to go before you-”

Bucky took your face in his hands. “Darling,” he whispered, “you will bury me before I bury you."

Suddenly, you regretted ever bringing this up. Your eyes welled up without you realizing it and Bucky used a metal finger to wipe the tears from your cheeks. The thought of watching Bucky's casket being lowered into the ground was too much for you. The image of a gravestone marked with Bucky’s name filled your head and you squeezed your eyes shut tight to try and clear it from your mind.

"But the most important thing is," he said. "I wouldn't be okay if I lost you, baby. That's why I have to go first. I'm gonna be selfish about this one- I don't want to be in a world without you."

You rolled your eyes and gave him a look, "Well, what makes you think I want to be in a world without you?"

He let out a soft laugh and wiped another tear from your cheek. "Unfortunately, doll, I think you're going to have to at some point. It's the natural order of things. I'm older than you, so I have to die first". He winked at you and pulled you in close to him. His metal arm wrapped around your back and your head fell into his shoulder.

He placed a gentle kiss on top of your head and took one of your hands in his human one. "I didn't mean to upset you, baby."

You shook your head, "I'm the one who brought it up". He pulled you in even closer and let out a deep sigh.

"But don't think you're getting rid of me any time soon," he murmured. "I'm gonna stick around for a good while... I can't leave my best girl.”

[kiridarling]

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓.

— 3.0k words

eijirou kirishima | hard dom + dubcon jic + f!reader + exhibitonism + face-fucking + dumbification + car sex + more! minors dni.

"Made me come all this way...it’d be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it."

"No, no, no, no, no—c'mon," you cry as your car engine spits and sputters to a stop in the road, coughing like an old man with asthma before it's dead for good. Jamming your heel on the gas pedal, you twist your key in the ignition, but there's no use. You're fucking stuck.

You sigh, before slamming your forehead against the steering wheel. It's hard enough to sting, and the blaring horn startles all unsuspecting birds in a five-mile radius, but you could care less. Stuck in the middle of the woods at one in the morning, AAA membership-less with nothing but the clothes on your back and the vehicle you came with. Short cuts are a fucking myth.

Mina's the only person you can think of calling—because frankly, she's the only one who'd know a mechanic who could help at this time of night if one exists. Which you doubt. Severely.

"[Y/N]?" Mina answers, semi-urgently. You wonder if you startled her out of a good sleep, but knowing the night owl, her evening is just beginning. "What's up?"

"I'm fucking stuck in the middle of nowhere," you groan, banging your head against the back of the seat though you know she can't see you. "Car's not working."

"Oh no," she coos, and her pity is useless. "Do you have AAA?"

"No. Do you have a mechanic?"

"A mechanic...at one am? I don—wait," she interrupts before you hear something akin to rustling sheets. "I might have a friend who could help! But don't get your hopes up girlie, he's a heavy sleeper."

You shrug, shaking your head. "At this point, I'm desperate."

"Alrighty!" Mina confirms, and now all you can do is fucking hope her friend pulls through. "I'll give him a quick buzz and then send his number over, sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," you breathe, relaxing (somewhat) with your chin against the steering wheel. "Thanks, girl."

"Of course!" she cheers, and you wonder how someone could have so much energy at this time of night. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," you snort. "I might need it."

Riiiing! Riiiing!

Eijirou's had a long day.

A pipe busted at the auto shop today, resulting in an immediate flood—meaning they had to get everything that could possibly rust out as quickly as possible, aka everything in the goddamn shop.

So, yeah. He's had a long day, and when he's finally able to get under the covers and go the fuck to sleep, Mina calls him with this.

"Hey...Eijirou, buddy, best friend—"

"Mina, I love you, but what do you want?" Eijirou grunts into the phone, voice worn and ragged from limited sleep and his terribly long day. One am is never an appropriate time to call anybody, but he figures something has to be up—Mina's not the type to call in the middle of the night.

"Um, well. My homegirl’s kinda stuck in the woods with car troubles—"

"The woods."

It takes Mina a second but she hums in confirmation, and Eijirou can see her head nodding from where he lays. He sighs, rolling on his back to blink up at the ceiling. "Yep!"

"What is she doing in the woods at midnight?"

"I don't know!" Mina exclaims. Eijirou runs a hand over his face. "I just—please, Ei? She doesn't have AAA or anything and it's really, really late. All you have to do is hotwire her car or something, right? It's not like she totaled it or anything."

And dammit. Eijirou hates being a nice person.

"Just give me ten."

Mina practically gasps out a thank you, "You're a lifesaver Ei! Really! I—"

She's interrupted by the buzz of his phone—this time, from an unknown number. Eijirou raises an eyebrow, "That her?"

"Should be!" The pinkette says. Eijirou's feet finally touch the floor and it's painfully cold. His bed has never looked more appealing, and that's counting all those instances in high school. "Thanks again, Ei!"

"Yep," Eijirou says, popping the 'p,' before clearing his voice and switching the line. Customer Service at one am, here he comes.

"Red Riot Auto Repair and Services, how may I help you?"

All he receives is a grunt on the other end of the phone: "My car won't turn on."

Eijirou waits for you to give him a little more to work with, but it's clear that's all you have to say when you ask hello to ensure he's still on the other end of the line. Runs his hands through his hair, he silently prays he won't have to leave the house to get your car to work.

"Did you try jiggling the key?"

"Yes, I'm not stupid," you huff, and Eijirou's eyebrows fold in exasperation. He insists you do it again though, and hears the weak splutter of your engine through the phone with a heavy heart. "'S fucking useless."

"Did you try tapping the battery terminals?"

"The battery whatsitals?" You say, too loud and smart-mouthed for the very thin amount of patience Eijirou harbors. He reaches for his hair tie, satisfied enough with the messy bun he makes on the first try.

"Just send me your location," Eijirou sighs, moving for a jacket before snatching the keys to the shed. He'd rather just get this over with than beat around the bush.

Luckily, you're not far. 

"You drive that thing?" is your first comment, and Eijirou can't even appreciate your beauty before your first words shatter your image completely, and he's slamming the door to his truck with rolling eyes, rusted toolbox heavy in his hand. "It looks like Mater from Lightning McQueen."

Eijirou just stares at you for a second, just to see if you're really serious, and resists the urge to scoff when it seems like you are.

"It's a truck," is all he says, before marching around you and to the task at hand—your car. "Pop the hood."

You huff, but you listen, and Eijirou wastes no time in getting to work. You watch with your elbows balanced on the rim, curious but quiet, and that allows him to get in the zone enough to realize there are countless problems with your car.

"When was the last time you took this thing into the shop?" He probes. You click your tongue, eyes tracing the outlines of the trees as you search for an answer. That's never a good sign.

"Um...never?"

"And how long have you had it?"

"A few years," you nod, and Eijirou drops his head.

"It's a miracle you made it this far in the first place," he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. What the hell is he going to do now? There's no way your car is moving anywhere tonight. You frown, jamming your hands on your hips.

"Well? Are you going to fix it or what?"

"I can fix it," Eijirou says with a shrug, closing your hood. "But not tonight."

"What do you mean not tonight?" You badger, breathing down his neck as he hikes back to his truck to set the toolbox down. There's no reason to carry it if he's not going to need it.

"I mean, your car's going to need a solid six months before it can run again, Sweetheart."

When Eijirou turns, you're much too in his face for his liking. He can practically feel your breath against his chest, and it has him rolling his eyes, leaning against his truck with arms crossed.

"Yeah, okay, but I need it to run tonight," you explain, gesticulating so wildly Eijirou fears his own chest may fall in the cross-fire. "Like, I need to get home tonight."

"I can't—" the redhead sighs, running his hand over his face. You're terribly difficult, and if Mina had given him a proper warning he probably wouldn't be here in the fucking first place. "Listen. My shop is out of commission for the next few days 'cause of a flood. I can work on your car or whatever, but it'll take a sec, so the most I can do is drop you at a hotel down the road or somethin'. Sound like a plan?"

"No," you growl, claws and all, and Eijirou wishes for nothing but death. "That doesn't sound like a plan! I don't know you, what makes you think I'll get in a car with you?"

Oh. My. God.

"Then you can spend the night in your car and have Mina come get you in the morning," he huffs, stomping over to the driver's side of his truck. "So it's either you're gettin' in, or I'm leaving ya."

With that, he slams the car door shut, shoves his key in the ignition, and counts to fucking ten, and on nine and a half you're flinging open the passenger door and bouncing in the seat, arms crossed over your chest in indignance. You don't even look him in the eye.

"Seatbelt," he warns. You tut.

"I don't need a fucki—"

"Put on the goddamn seatbelt."

You don't say anything, but he's satisfied by the click that follows. Eijirou shifts into drive and you two take off.

"The seat's so uncomfortable."

Not even twenty feet.

"Suck it up," is all the pity Eijirou has to offer. He's preoccupied with trying to get from this side road to a main road with, you know, actual civilization. The road is unsteady—unsteady enough that a bump sends the both of you flying towards the roof of his car, and naturally, you have something to say about it.

"Y'know, for a mechanic, you're not a very good driver," you say, and it has Eijirou's fists tightening around his steering wheel. His patience wears down until it has the height of a penny, and Eijirou worries for when it shatters because he has no clue what he'll do if it does.

"And it smells a little funky," you continue anyway, eyes wandering around the cabin aimlessly."Kinda like cheese. No offense."

Eijirou pulls over at that, teeth grinding. Is he really going to snap over cheese comment?

“Is this a condom?”

Yes. Yes, the fuck he is.

"Get out."

"Um—excuse me?" You blink, eyebrows raising in offense. "You're kicking me out. Because I found a fucking rubber?”

Eijirou glares your way and he's sure you can feel him radiating fury, and that's enough to convince you to hop out of the car without another word. He follows, slamming the door behind him.

"Okay? Now what?" You growl, and Eijirou loves it—the false display of confidence. Because he knows it won't take much to break you once he gets you under his thumb, and you'll look so pretty once he does. Cocking his head to his side, he tells you to come here without having to open his mouth. You follow.

"Now, on your knees."

You splutter at his request, rolling your eyes as if he wasn't being serious. Though you shut up once you hear the clink of his belt, lips widening in revelation, and Eijirou thinks you'd look much prettier with your mouth full.

"You made me come all this way—it'd be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it," Eijirou says, and the way you shiver implies that you like this more than you let on. He coos when you say nothing, "And for the first time today she's got nothin' to say. See? You're improving already."

He gives you a second to move. When you don't, he lifts an eyebrow. "Knees, Princess."

You do and Eijirou groans at the view, palming his hardening cock at the sight of your bambi eyes blinking up at him—and it's a pretty one, at that. Leaning against the door of his truck, he grunts, "Take it out."

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his boxers and Eijirou shivers upon contact with the cool air, but the warmth of your palm makes up for it. You spit on his cock with a curled lip and it's nothing short of crude, before you're swirling your tongue around the head and taking him as far as you can possibly go.

"Uh-uh," Eijirou tuts, grabbing you by the hair to pull your mouth off his cock. "We got at my pace, Sweetheart."

"Why?" You pout with a curled lip. Eijirou scowls.

"Because," he says, before stuffing half of his cock down your throat, "I'm gonna put that big fuckin' mouth to use at my pace."

With that, Eijirou thrusts into your mouth, using the grip he has around your hair as leverage. Your throat is impossibly warm and the way you choke has him keening, and that's enough for his hips to start picking up mindlessly.

"Shit—what a dirty fuckin' girl," he says, smirking when you moan around his cock. "You like this? You like sucking off a guy you just met?"

Your eyes flutter at that, nails digging into his thighs, and it nearly has him cooing. When you swallow around him Eijirou's hips stutter and he grunts, "In public, no less. Anyone could drive by and see you taking my dick down your throat...but you'd like that, wouldn't you? You want the world to know how much of a slut you are."

Your hand falls between your thighs and Eijirou grins like the devil as he watches you touch yourself on the dirty road, desperate just because knows how to push the right buttons. That's enough to have him caving, demanding you rise to your feet and get in the backseat of his car.

"Hands and knees," Eijirou urges, his body towering over yours from behind. It's not long before he's pinning your wrists to the windshield with one hand and using the other to land a harsh slap on your ass; harsh enough to make you jolt forwards from the force.

"Such a pretty ass," he coos before slapping it again, and your teeth dig into your bottom lip to muffle the sound. "And it's all for me, ain't it, Princess?"

You nod, but Eijirou spanks you again—he's looking for an answer.

"Y-Yeah, yes, all yours just—" your hips wiggle in search of his cock. Eijirou chuckles, leveling his lips with your ear.

"Want me to fill you up, Princess?"

You gasp out a yes, nodding vehemently. The redhead finds he likes you like this much better, chest rumbling with arousal. "Yeah? How bad?"

"B-Bad, please, I need t—fuck!"

Eijirou stuffs you full with one thrust, and even he needs a moment, freehand searching to hold onto your hip while his grip tightens around your wrists. You quiver under him, and he swears he can feel your gut contract around his cock, eyelids fluttering when you grind against him.

"Holy shit," Eijirou finds himself wheezing, not expecting you to be so tight. You drop your head against the cool windshield, whimpering like the pretty little thing you are, shuddering as he pulls out before ramming himself in again until he's balls deep. You scream, back arching from the angle.

And fuck. It's impossible for him to stop after that.

"Fuckin' look at you," Eijirou chuckles, body practically caging you against the seat, "Drooling all over my window like a slut. Fuck, you really know how to get a guy goin' huh?"

“Pull—pull my hair,” you request, words from his pistoning hips. Eijirou tuts and rips your hands off the window in favor of pushing your head into the seat, not making a move to yank on your hair once.

“I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making demands, Princess," he growls before his hot palm cracks against your ass, hissing from the way you tighten around him when he does.

You whine at that, pushing into him the best you can. It only spurs his hips on faster, and Eijirou lets go of your hands in favor of grabbing your face instead, groaning at the sight of the tears shining silver from the moonlight. He likes the fact that you can't do much but gasp and rock against him, your hands falling to clit to finally push yourself off the edge.

He looks at you and all he sees is his dumb little thing, who can't do anything, let alone get her car to work, and that's when Eijirou realizes he doesn't want this to be as much of a one-time thing as he initially thought.

"Gonna...gonna cum," you slur, cheek mashed flat against his window. Eijirou fucks you into the door of his truck, pace quick and bruising, as his mind thinks of all the fun you two could have together—all the fun he wants to have with you.

"Cum, Sweetheart. Make a mess of my cock and my leather seats, yeah? Show me how good I make you feel."

You tighten around his cock, tight, and that's enough to send him spiraling into an orgasm of his own, hips stuttering to a stop as he fills you up. Though his hips never stop, not until you're coming around his cock with a broken moan, curled toes digging into his car floor. He watches you catch your breath, splayed across the seat, with a sudden realization that he feels much lighter, but doubts it was the sex that did the trick.

"You fucked your anger out now?" You wheeze, breaking the silence, and Eijirou snorts.

"I—yes," he says before his eyes trail to the scratch marks around your hips and thighs. "Are you...okay?"

"Never been better," you toss your arms in the air like you're on a rollercoaster but lack the energy to scream. It's cute and it had the redhead re-evaluating everything, wondering how the day could start so shitty and yet, end so well. "Are you okay?"

His eyebrows furrow, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you shrug, and Eijirou finds it hard to stay focused when you look like that. "You asked me, so. Everyone needs a post-sex check-in, ya know?"

Fuck.

Fuck, yeah he's definitely keeping you.

[yeongwvnhi]

ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ

Pairing - Baekhyun x fem reader -> exes to lovers | Genre - Angst, fluff | warnings - none | taglist - @twancingyunhoe @trashlord-007 @tiddy-boys | synopsis - when Baekhyun and you broke things off a year ago, it felt alright, but you came to the painful realization that nobody could ever replace him or love you like he did | word count - 2.1k | thanks to @tiddy-boys for beta-reading ♡

》><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><《

It's days like these, rain hitting the window in harsh taps and angry wind blowing, when the nostalgia hits the hardest. After all, you were always one to dwell on the past. It's just what you do. 

Every day felt the same after the two of you broke things off. You don't even remember why exactly you even ended it in the first place. The pain still sits deep, coming to haunt you when you least expect it. 

Rainy days like those just trigger the nostalgia, the memories and bygone feelings. 

It's 12pm when you check your phone, yet you're still laying in bed. The lack of motivation due to this sudden wave of sadness is something you're not experiencing for the first time. 

And it's killing you slowly. These feelings are eating you up from the inside out. 

Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams. 

"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic" 

You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them. 

instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram. 

One peek won't hurt, right…? 

His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…

"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page. 

He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year. 

Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual. 

So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight. 

"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face. 

"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?" 

The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'. 

This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. 

—

Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face. 

"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low. 

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way. 

And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance. 

"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into. 

Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?" 

His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do. 

He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure. 

But the damage is already done. 

You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him. 

You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand. 

He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-" 

You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting. 

"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N" 

"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile. 

"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now. 

"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain. 

"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick" 

You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two. 

—

Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along. 

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him. 

He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-" 

"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you" 

Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?" 

"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower. 

You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved. 

Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came. 

"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself. 

You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all. 

—

You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit. 

"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit. 

"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?" 

"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask. 

"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?" 

You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest. 

"So, uh-" 

"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes. 

"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you. 

You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure. 

He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general. 

The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago? 

Baekhyun remembers it all too well. 

It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff. 

Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other. 

And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.

You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone. 

And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening. 

"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes. 

"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts. 

"How has life been for you?" 

A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now" 

You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic" 

"Have you… found someone new?" 

You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see" 

"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on" 

His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither" 

You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway" 

"Hey!" He exclaims in shock. 

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time" 

"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort. 

"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose. 

His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags. 

"Shut up" You weakly fight back. 

Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?" 

You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face. 

"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist. 

After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?" 

He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you" 

"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle. 

Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses. 

One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours. 

You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now. 

He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?" 

"You bet" 

[lovethisletters]

Devilish nights || A fantastic 3 one-shot!

I love this idea ngl, I love the dynamic between the three of them! And I tried to do them justice here but... there's definitely a Whole ass ranch for improvement... :C

also Diavolo is Mexa xd

Summary: the fantastic three go to a concert but things don't go as planned.

Additional notes: I was going to make this a comic but decided against it since it was gonna take me much more time to finish it, but perhaps I'll do it as a small follow up to this one-shot.

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

There's a reason why the Demon elite are very protective of their private life...you see: everyone has a side of their personality only the ones closest to us are allowed to see and for the demon prince, the avatar of pride and the loyal butler this is no exception.

—Uhhh?!?! You're going out?!!—all 6 brothers questioned in surprise.

—Yes, and I hope that when I arrive, the house is not a mess!— Replied the avatar of pride as he placed a distinctive blue coat over his shoulders.

—Ehhh? Are you going on vacation to the human realm, Lucifer ?! And without me ?! How cruel!—Asmodeus inquired dramatically, hugging his older brother's arm like a child begging his mother to go out and play.

The black-haired demon was unfazed by the avatar of lust childish demeanor, released himself from his grasp with ease and continued with his speech.

—Diavolo has important matters to resolve in the human realm and he needs me and Barbatos to support him, it is not a vacation.—

—I hope all of you behave in my absence; Satan, you're in charge, ”Lucifer declared.

-What?!?! Satan in charge ?! - the rest complained.

—As much as it bothers me to admit it… Satan is the most responsible among you — Lucifer looked at the blonde demon in the eyes — I'm counting on you — and the avatar of pride came out hurriedly before he could even hear the answer of the fourth brother.

—Don't— whispered the avatar of wrath as his lips settled into a sinister smile at the plan that was being formulated in his head.

[…]

—Ahhh ~ finally it's THE day! I can't wait any longer !!!— upon hearing the title "prince of hell" we could normally assume that the person bearing it is someone intimidating, ruthless and rude; but there he was ... the heir to the throne of the Devildom jumping all over the place with immeasurable enthusiasm, glow sticks in each hand and a white shirt with the image of a sun with the face of Luis Miguel on the chest.

—Diavolo, I'd appreciate it if you could calm down a bit.

—Calm down?! Lucifer! I have been waiting for this for years! I will finally be able to be at a concert of my favorite singer from the human realm! Do you have any idea how much I struggled to get these tickets?!?! I had to do it the human way! line and everything!—The redhead claimed at the lack of enthusiasm from his best friend.

—His majesty stopped time and he moved a couple of old ladies to be able to acquire the tickets in the front row; it would be appreciated if you showed a bit of enthusiasm, Lucifer.—Barbatos finally spoke, the same formal and cold smile always etched on his face to which Lucifer could only replay in the same way.

—Oh! I won't let you two ruin my night with your formalities! At least pretend you're as excited as I am!—Diavolo begged but his stoic companions could only mutter a mocking “yeeei”as they waved their respective glow sticks reluctantly and the prince of hell could only roll his eyes.

[…]

Mistakes happen, they happen when we least expect them and even worse; at too inconvenient moments.

—Quick, Lucifer, we're next!— The tallest of the 3 hurried, still jumping up and down.

—Give me a second — The black-haired demon searched in his pockets for the tickets that Diavolo had asked him to keep until the day of the concert because he was afraid of losing them among all the paperwork that week and knowing the responsible nature of his friend he entrusted them to him .

The thing is ... Lucifer could not find the tickets ... and when he realized this, with all the tranquility of the world: he cleared his throat, clasped his hands and positioned himself firmly like a teacher about to explain something to a child .

—Diavolo, in terms of tickets… I forgot the ttickets— At first the prince of hell gave his friend an incredulous look and even proceeded to laugh.

—Sure, stop playing games, Lucifer— the redhead expected a laugh from his friend followed by him handing over the tickets, but that gesture never came.

—Your Majesty I think Lucifer is not joking— Barbatos corrected

And oh my god, have you ever seen a child's face when you take a toy that he just can’t have out of his hands? And then the endless crying begins? Yes, at that moment the heir to the throne of hell simply bursted in tears.

—It’s Okay, your majesty, everything is going to be fine— The butler tried to calm him down by patting him on the back.

—Diavolo, I can buy others, don't worry— But the redhead only limited himself to pointing at the sign above the theater entrance "Sold out" was written in large letters.

—Well… I guess I owe you the next concert, how about we go to your favorite restaurant, hmm? My treat — Despite his offer, his friend only let out a sigh of despair and helplessness.

—You have no idea where you left them?

—Ummm… I guess in my office…

—Tell your brothers to bring them to you! Please!!— Lucifer was quick to dial Satan's number, because by the way things were he would not be surprised if Diavolo's despair at this moment led him to pray.

By pure chance, Lucifer noticed that he had several unanswered messages and calls from one of the angels: Simeon

—You can't reach them?—the prince questioned

Lucifer just stood there, glaring at his phone with a mixture of regret and anger.

"Damm you Simeon" was all that came to mind.

—Oh? Aren't those Solomon, Simeon and Luke?—Barbatos voice interrupted his thoughts.

And sure enough, there at the entrance of the theatre were the inhabitants of purgatory hall, dressed in human world clothing, waiting in line, the youngest of the group with tickets in hand.

—Oh!? I didn't knew they had bought tickets for this!

—They didn't

—How do you know?

—Because those are YOUR tickets!

—What?!?!—Diavolo's confused expression was quickly met with Lucifer's phone right in front of his face, showing him the text messages.

—I'll go get them—but before the avatar of pride could take another step towards the purgatory hall group, Barbatos hand stopped him in his tracks.

—Your Majesty, I believe Luke's birthday is just in a few days and he seems to be enjoying himself, why don't we let them keep the tickets?—the butler suggested politely.

It took a couple of seconds for the prince of hell tho make his desicion, but the smile on the small angel face made all trace of doubt dissipate, and with a heavy sigh he finally spoke.

— leat it be, Lucifer...

—...are you sure of it, Diavolo?

—yes, perhaps next year we'll go together...all of us, right?

Lucifer was surprised but with a small smile forming on his face he said yes.

—Now... who's hungry?! We should go to the fanciest place in town, after all, It's Lucifer's treat!—the prince joked

—Perhaps the restaurant we attended last year would be fine, your Majesty?

—Ah yes! That would do!

And while Lucifer's wallet had started regretting his desicions, he was happy he could spend this evening with his dearest friends.

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

I was going to put a drawing of the fantastic three hanging out but I only did Diavolo bc while I was finishing Barbatos and Lucifer my computer crashed and didn't save anything :c

So here's a Diavolo in front of bellas artes to compensate:

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov  where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[amethystpath-writes]

Love Potion/ Love Spell

Original work

Love potion/spell

******

"Oh my god; I'm in bed with Villain," Hero said as she jolted straight up upon seeing the body beside her. She looked down at herself. She was still clothed and she found herself being somewhat disappointed. Still, Hero muttered again, slightly happier than before, "I'm in bed with Villain."

There was a shuffle in the bed. Villain turned onto his other shoulder, peering at Hero, only able to see her because of the moonlight which flitted just between the blinds. "That sounded less concerning than the first. You almost seemed to be scared of being in bed with me. Should I be worried?"

A chuckle slipped from Hero. "No, I just- we- I'm- and you-" She laughed again, this time due to her spluttering mess of words. "I can't believe I'm here with you. I feel like...like this is something I've wanted for so long, and now- I mean, I'm- I can't believe I'm in bed with you now. It almost doesn't feel like I should be here."

Villain reached out, took her hand, and brought it to his lips. "Believe me, dear, you're exactly where you are meant to be." He asked, "Did you have a bad dream, my sweet? You seem offset."

"I- well, I don't know actually." Her eyes became squinted. She left her hand in Villain's. It felt warm there. Comforting. How had she never thought of holding Villain's hand before? "I can't remember how...How did I get here?"

"Is there something wrong? Should I have one of the medics come down and-"

"Medics? No. No, I'm fine. I just-" Hero took her hand back so that she could hold her head, as if that would help her sort out the puzzle which was her mind. "I don't understand what's happening. The last thing I remember...we were fighting and- and I don't know what else. That's all I remember."

Villain hummed, scooted closer to her, and took her back into his arms and chest. "I'm going to go make you some warm tea. How does that sound?"

She nodded. "Tea sounds good." She leaned her head against his shoulder. Hero couldn't say why she felt so comfortable with him in this moment, especially seeing as her last memory was of the two of them fighting. But being warmed by what heat he put off now, being held by him, and having him kiss her hand...It all just somehow felt right, like they'd always been like this with one another. Maybe it really was possible that she dreamt the fight.

But then why didn't she remember anything before then? Why couldn't she recall laying in bed with Villain before? Why could she only remember throwing fists at him that he easily caught? She didn't remember taking a liking to Villain. But it was clear to her now as she let herself be embraced by him in a bed they obviously shared that they liked- maybe even loved each other. Hero felt guilty, not knowing why she loved him. Something was wrong with her. There had to have been.

What happened next both shocked and delighted her. Villain grabbed her chin lightly, despite his always-calloused fingers- and turned her head so that he could capture her lips. He didn't force the kiss on Hero. He gave her time to pull away, but she didn't. Hero wanted the kiss. She leaned in and let him kiss her, just as she kissed him.

Villain released Hero and began scooting off of the bed. "I'll be back with your tea. Honey, not sugar, right?"

"Yeah. Lots of honey." She smiled at him, but before he walked through the door, she asked, "Did something happen to me?"

"What do you mean, darling?"

"My memory. Why don't I remember anything?"

Villain sighed and gave a mock smile before coming to the foot of the bed and sitting just in front of Hero's feet, which were still beneath the comforter. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask so soon, but I guess it makes sense you would. Missing memories is a hard thing to miss." He looked towards the window and Hero swore she saw tears glimmering in his eyes.

"Supervillain, he- uh- finally managed to capture you." A broken, aggravated laugh. "Wiped away nearly all of your memories until you were just this- this vessel without any purpose." Villain swallowed, put a hand over where Hero's feet were. He looked into Hero's eyes and she felt her heart throbbing faster. "Supervillain left the ones where you and he fought but- but he-"

Did Villain sniffle just now?

Hero listened as he continued to explain. "He replaced every image of himself with me. Made it so that you could never fully adjust back to your old life with me because...because every time you look at me, you'll see this- this absolutely abhorrent monster that tortured you. But I would never do that. Okay, Hero? I would never hurt you."

"Have I ever- Have I ever tried to attack you before? Because of my messed up memories?"

Solemnly, Villain nodded. "But it's okay. I know why you do it, and I don't blame you."

His hand squeezed Hero's feet. In a reassuring way, she thought, Not a cruel one. Hero hated that she had to tell herself this. Did he ever do that and Hero think he was going to hurt her? She hoped not.

"I'm going to go make you your tea now, alright?"

Hero nodded after a deep breath. Tea fixes everything. It seemed Supervillain let her keep that bit of knowledge at least.

***

While Villain went to get her tea, Hero began pondering. Memories were flipping through her mind, all of which being how Villain said; he was the enemy in them all, and he always hurt her in the most brutal of ways.

A part of Hero considered Villain actually was an enemy. How could he not be with all of these memories? Well, that was easy, really; Hero loved him. And she wouldn't love him if he'd been the enemy all along. Maybe she couldn't remember how she came to love him, but it was evident in the way her heart sped up when she realized she laid beside him, and even more when he began to speak to her.

But what if the increased heart rate was because of an embedded fear? Not from Supervillain, but from herself. Wasn't it possible that Villain was responsible for her loss of memories?

No. No, because then why would he leave such horrid memories of himself? To make a story.

No!

Hero couldn't make up her mind. It was being pulled in so many directions, producing so many thoughts at once that she couldn't keep up. She needed to think about what she knew.

So what was that? What did Hero know that was concrete? The only thing that came to mind was how much she loved laying beside Villain, how she loved the warmth he put off, the way he gave her pet names, the way he held and kissed her hand. She loved Villain. That was true. Which meant that his story had to have been true about Supervillain.

But what if-

The door creaked open and Villain stepped in with a mug in hand. He came to Hero's bedside and nearly set the tea on her nightstand, but he seemed to notice Hero's distraught face.

"It's happening again. I can see it."

Hero hummed her confusion.

"You're questioning things again. It's okay; I get it." His feet shuffled for a moment and Hero could tell he was trying to think of what to say next. "Listen, I'm going to leave you to your thoughts, but if you have any questions, or you need reassurance or whatever, just- shake me awake or shove me or something. I'm here for you, Hero. Alright?"

"Okay." Hero nodded for what felt like the tenth time this night- or day. It has to be at least 4am right now.

"Oh!" Villain exclaimed quietly, holding the mug. "Go ahead and have a taste real quick." He handed the mug to Hero, explaining, "I wasn't sure if I added enough honey or not. Or maybe added too much. The water was an amber colour after I was done squeezing that bear." He chuckled and Hero took a sip.

"That's- wow. Yeah, no. That's good. That's- gosh, it's perfect. Remind me to always have you make my tea."

Villain smiled. "I would be happy to. I'm glad you like it." He rounded the bed, sliding in under his side of the blankets.

Hero whispered rather sleepily after setting her tea on the nightstand, "Goodnight. I love you, Villain."

"I love you, too, my doll." He pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead as she rolled over to face him. When she closed her eyes, he satisfyingly closed his own.

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊.

Summary: Where you got a panic attack while attending a lecture at University and Harry's out of reach.

Warning: Angst, ah! yes no worries you'll get fluff in the end.

P.S: 𝐖𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

Snuggled into cosy sheets, sweater paws wrapped around a cuppa, the strands of your dark hair tickling the nape of your neck and a sheepish smile of yours crawled against the rim happy while you scrolled through your Instagram feed seeing a short video of Harry singing Landslide on karaoke with his best pal at their get-together.

You and Harry were bestfriends, you met him at a vintage shop in basement where they sell old vintage tees. Despite of knowing who he was you fought with him cheekily over a same 'Pink Floyd's.' T-shirt at that time you guys decided to share it, he'd come to take it from you after every three days a week.

Two years of bestfriendship from you taking him to local south asian and chinese restaurants, to dragging him to yearly fair demanding him to win a bunny for you, to going on a competition for free pizzas only ending up loosing because you were litreally about to go sick, dancing like a maniac at the low price arcade at your university's backstreet, to him dragging you to his friends get-togethers which are quite fun they are super chill but your anxiousness is a little bitch she pops out of nowhere but Harry doesn't mind at all.

Now you're here. Being his lover for an year. He confessed his love for you when he was high on shrooms and you laughed it off tucking him to sleep at his place because he always used to say he 'loves you.' but that was in friends typa way until at the Christmas time while you were having fun for real at Jeff's house with Harry crowded by his mates that one of the Jeff's friends approached you and Oh dear lord' from even so far Harry's sight was dagger to a prey and was hot on his heels, if he would have been a cartoon character red smoke could have seen through his ears.

"Pet?" His brows kinked together as he squeezed you to a corner and he pulled at his bottom lip when your attention was on that guy waving you good-bye, "what Harry?" You asked him nonchalantly peering him through your down gaze.

It was enough to pinch his nerves and Amy one of his girl friend smirked watching the scenario when he was taking both of you to rooftop. With folded forearms you smiled with a certain mischief at the clear jealousy of him ripping through his every action, "jus' wanna protect ye', kiddo." He paced back to you sighing with a painful clench in his chest. He wanted to spill out but why the hell it was so difficult.

"Huh?" Your eyes widened like a deer under the moonlight at his obvious incoherence and he hissed pulling at his roots so you retorted calmly, "relax he was just a guy graduated in the same degree as me." You wanted him to confess his feeling out to you, at many occasions you guys joked about marrying eachother if you both fail to find your perfect partner. Like when you got all sentimental seeing Jeff's first baby at the hospital, getting a baby fever wanting one bubba right that time and Harry joked if any consequences he would help you put a baby in you and trust me nobody in the room laughed, they had deadpaned faces, they all know you guys have crossed the borderline but are playing blind.

His friends have inner jokes for you and Harry, their famous four bets on when Harry will ask you out, his first love confession to you, him proposing you and what your first born would be. Half of them lost more money than they could have imagined in a group of seven, Amy was smirking with full heart because she was praying maybe this time she'll win the bet.

"He looked like he drank 'is arse off." You rolled your eyes at his anxious quip wrapping your cardigan closer to your chest muttering under your breath and Harry's head snapped from your feet to your face, he knew it was ending point of his act "Harry he was completely sober."

He still remained firm at his ground pouting as his curled fingers brushed your elbows to bring you closer, "...but he's still a guy, ye' know.." You wanted to laugh at his face at his silly comment but instead arched your brow sternly.

"So. You aren't?" His heart-shaped lips bubbled around his words but you cut him off, "because if I remember last time you had a dick in between your legs." At this he strewned his lip inside not to chuckle how cute dirty words sounds coming out of your lips.

You frowned feeling cold when he pulled back from you turning his back to you to take a deep breath and his eyes were darker than before from frustration when he turned to face you.

"'Kay fuck. I love you, that's it. happy? I love you and don't wanna loose ye' to anyone!" You knew it coming but not like a bullet so it hit you like one freezing your breath into cold dense air, "you do?" You were at loss of words padding towards him for reassurance as if you're his little girl.

When you were inches away from him He noded without any hesitation saturating even that distance, "yes. I do. Since we've met, since you've invaded all of mind and heart." He wrapped you in his warm conforting arms humming when he snoggled his cheek against your hair.

You playfully scowled at him, "well didn't do that on purpose." Your naughtiness of that moment vanished into air when he asked you sincerely breath tasting you, "can I kiss ye' sweet girl?" Your single nod and his lips were on yours into a deep open mouthed passionate kiss, like how lovers kiss.

His cold finger-tips brushed the under shell of your earlobes earning a shuddering moan and you slipped your hands into the front pockets of his trousers.

Your own icy hands causing him to buck his hips into yours and the sensual touch made you both a whimpering mess. Tongues caressing, lips swiping, teeth nibbling and noses brushing as you kissed until your lips froze to mist.

"Cold?" You admired his after tenderness, lips magenta from heavy makeout session and he twirled a loose errand of your hair around his shiny jewl clad finger kissing your forehead and taking your hands in his bringing them closer to his lips to blow out his warmth to them.

But, there was another pair of eyes watching you astonished and somewhat gasping in awement. Amy, she came to call you guys. Then she rushed back downstairs doing a little prance and all of the people watched her in confusion.

"Ten, ten bucks each. C'mon bitches Harry said I love you to y/n!" Everyone squealed happily at her enthusiastic announcement only groaning at the end when she made a grabby hand, "I won. Now gimme my money."

Even though they all knew they acted like nothing happened respecting your guys descion of whenever you'd like to share your relationship to them, both you and Harry couldn't hold longer.

Your affection it's not new you've been affectionate to eachother since the very start, but this one have meaning and feelings, deep sensations. Hand grazes, knee touches, teasing glances, innocent bantering as if you could rip each others clothes right infront of them, closeness and quite fuck visits in their washrooms were getting obvious day by day and you ended up telling them getting showered in blessings in return.

Right now, with a shake of your head you went past through your boyfriend's antics going through Instagram stories. Your brows furrowed together in curiosity when you came through a post that had a large 'sensite content.' written on it.

This's what happens when curiously takes best of you. You end up doing things you regret time after and this's what happened to you.

"My god!" You clamped your palm over your mouth, eyes widening in horror and nerves crippling in fear. The gor video full of cruelness and blood infront of you making your body shudder.

𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡! 𝐷𝑎𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡! 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑦/𝑛!!!!

Your mind screamed at you to just move past it but your eyes remained numbed to same video and your heart's weeping for the poor women in the video but you're rigid in your sheets with the cup of tea shaking with the shudder of your fear.

Then the consciousness hit you like a train and you snapped out of it quickly shutting your phone throwing it carelessly on the sheets, putting the porcelain cup with a shivering hand onto nightstand.

You shrinked into your sheets trying to calm your breaths. Bolting shut your eyes you shrugged and shook your head many times to get rid of the same image circling in your mind like a demon trying to haunt you.

You stopped breathing without realizing arm over your forehead as you stared the ceiling, lip sucked into your mouth and talking to yourself you tried to concentrate on something else.

You're feeling it coming. It's collecting in the form of bile in your throat and when you were talking with yourself. Your stupid obnoxious brain played your voice ten times faster and it echoed inside your own fleshy bones like a broken record in the barren house of devil.

You're hating it. You inhaled an audible gasp of loud horrific breath shoting up from your sleeping position throwing your duvet to ground ready to run away, you're trying to run away from yourself from your bloody damn thoughts.

You want Harry. He knows about your anxiety and panic attacks. You had your fair amount of panic attacks in his presence, but he always managed to bring you back to him. He used to make you practice breathing patterns and techniques on how to escape from your own subspace.

The first time you got it infront of him was when everyone protested that you should stay for sometime more but it was already two in the morning and you had an exam in the next morning it was just for him that you went along, but you were kinda angry on your own self for taking risks for just a friendship. Then it came into a black pitch waves of suffocation in his car while he was driving you back home, he was unaware of your condition and practically cried when he couldn't bring you back to him.

That night he slept in your bed for the first time. He wanted to stay closer to you in any case, you were sad that you made him worried for no-reason but he shushed you with infinite forehead kisses, he whisper yelled at you full of concern if he might be suffocating you but you giggled a "no." kissing his cheeks getting cosy in his embrace eyes drooping to sleep. He used to sing lullaby to you when you were having it bad particular nights.

Now, he wasn't here and you thought of calling him many times but decided against it only being your own helper. Taking a deep breath, you sang his lullaby to yourself, not letting tears to fall and reminisced all of the lovely memories of you together. Your kisses. Your laughs. Your cuddles. Your lovemaking. Your cooking failures together.

With all of these memories you were back in your bed closing your eyes only hearing Harry's soft affectionate rasps in your ears.

.

In the morning you have long forgotten that even the video existed. You were surprisingly fresh walking to your university's building in long strides, greeting everyone and anyone.

Harry just woke up from his lazy slumber. Making an orange juice for himself, his head heavy and he's in no mood to look at his phone. Grabbing his journal and putting on his rings, a special copper one that you gifted him on his ring finger smiling at it like a foolish fucker and pecking it shyly remembering you.

"Heyyy. H!" When he entered studio everyone greeted him joyfully and he hugged them all handing breakfast to each one of them he bought after standing in a queue for half an hour, "how's y/n?" Sarah asked chewing her bagel sitting behind the drums and the seed of distress sprouted in his stomach that he hasn't asked his bubby if she slept good lastnight? What she had in breakfast? If her day's going well.

There's this certain instinction that's making him restless but he can't quite put a finger on it.

"She's good. Gets a lill cranky if I win form 'er at the '10 phase' uno game." He chuckled with a hint of love under his tone his previous thoughts of checking onto you again slipping from his mind.

Plugging his phone to charger he rushed back to his favourite spot quickly taking his journal and pencil to scribble something.

It's your English lecture. The day went well. But now it's not. You're zoning out knowing how boring the lecture sounds.

You stared the way you drew your pencil into unstopping circles at the corner of page and your head was a dark vacant space when the way you acted last night flashed in your mind then the reason behind it, that damn video.

The video displaying like a reel in your mind again as if you're there experiencing it with your body. You twitched, and closing your eyes you snapped your head to side several times when the cold sweat broke at the back of your neck and shudder ran down your spine.

When you snapped for the tenth time in row a hand came squeezing yours, "you okay?" You slowly looked up at the guy sitting beside you as the professor's voice billowed further from you.

You just stared him numbly, tears making your sight blurry. Your breath hitching in your lungs and you can feel it clawing at you like a demon. To avoid getting made fun of yourself you stood up leaving your things and rushed for the door, when a hand came wrapping around your wrist in a tight grip.

"Where are you going miss? This's not acceptable." Your karen professor's voice sliced through your ears and your lungs are tightening with each passing second, everything spinning around you and all you're thinking's if you'd make it alive through this dark box of suffocation.

"S-sorry...I-I have to go—" You tried to stutter in between your broken breaths and she scowled burning her grip into your wrist. Your cheeks numb as you didn't feel tears slipping down to the valley of your breasts, "tell me the reason and I'll let you." Your head fell back at that and you bolted your eyes shut as tight as possible. Then when you tried to inhale you couldn't and everyone around hooed loudly watching you in shock as you tried to escape her with weak crying attempts.

"Let me go!" You shrieked. With wide eyes she let you and you fell to ground painfully hard. It was coming. You sobbed out harshly but it went silent at the end and you bunched your shirt atop your heart when your vision went pitch black, whole body shaking and you forgot even if the oxygen existed.

It's consuming you. Everything around you moving in slow motion. Their shouts for you like a sleepy mumble and it's just Harry's lullaby melodic in the pocket of your heart but it's cold and deserted with nothing but claustrophobia shoving you brutally into darkness where nobody could hear you crying.

You act like a lioness ready to kill anybody while you're having a panic attack and when some hand came to help you. You screamed and growled swatting them away "Don't fuckin' touch me!—" even though your ears are buzzing and you gasped loudly to get some air but it's not helping. God help me, please. You prayed.

Your classmate went through your emergency phone numbers finding Harry's at the top and it ringed sitting in the other room from him.

Then he dialed another one. It was studio's landline, Harry has filled that number without your knowledge and well it helped.

"Harry?" The drums came to halt, the guitar was stopped mid shrivel and Harry's high note fell to ground when the receptionist came with a cordless phone.

"A phone for you from y/n university—" It was enough to smack his breath away and he scurried to his feet taking the phone hastily from her hold, controlling his voice to not yell at the person in his own anxiousness.

He tucked it beneath his ear taking the car keys and his phone out of instinct because when it's you he's always on alarm. What he heard from other side made his knees jello and ribs to knock in two, "fuck. Yeh. 'M comin' jus' yeah, make her breath gently....." He tried to instruct your classmate.

He cursed himself. Not giving two fucks if he broke every speed limit. His knuckles going white and he repeated a mantra of "breath baby. m' sweet sweet girl jus' breath." but he was just saying this to himself because you wasn't in his arms and he wasn't calming you, he's blaming all this on himself.

He didn't even parked his car. Striding inside the lobby and asking for you. After fifteen minutes of no breathing as you were about to hit the deep end you inhaled loudly filling your lungs with proper oxygen causing your eyes to go bloodshot and everyone sighed in relief.

Your classmate took you to University's healthcare room so someone guided Harry there. You had your knees tucked close to your chest, head resting on them to block any light as you whimpered with innocent small hiccups.

Your heart beat racing. Head hurting and chest aching from the after effect.

Harry had to get support of door's frame when his eyes fell over you. Over his Angel that was shrinked pitifully like she's scared of world crying on her own.

The sheets of stretcher rustled under his weight as he slowly and gently wrapped his arms around her, "baby..." He cooed on the verge of tears and she didn't had to look up to know he's here, his scent was enough to relax her mind.

Her parted lips moist over the crook of his neck as she sobbed into him. He tenderly rocked her, running his hand soothingly at her back, kissing her head and her nose wiping her tears "'m so sorry, my baby. my life. 'M so sorry."

You fisted his shirt, face smashed into his chest to avoid the world while embracing your own world, your Harry as he walked both of you to his car carrying your stuff too with him. He helped you sit inside the car rounding to the driver seat and he leaned to kiss your forehead, glossy eyelids and a peck to your lips never letting his concern divert from you as he drove home.

He made you comfortable into your bed, wrapping his forearms around your tummy and soothing your arms down to tranquil your heartbeats.

He knows it's hard for you to talk so he didn't tried to get words out of you. He just wants to be there for you, physically, spiritually, mentally. He's all yours.

After long hour you spoke voice barely above a whisper, "t-they all are gonna think 'm weird." Harry felt something jabbing his sides at her statement and he cradled her chin intensely looking her in eyes.

"No angel. I promise you they wouldn't. See how your classmate called me the very moment you weren't responding? They all genuinely cared for yer', y/n" He stroked the apple of her cheeks and she sighed waveringly new tears glistening at her eyelids.

"Thought I wasn't gonna see you ever again." Her words hit him like death and at that moment he realized they're more than just best friends, just lovers, they are soulmates and Harry would be devastated without her.

His music. His fashion. His cheekiness. His softness. His humbleness will all be gone because he's so dependent on her for everything.

She frowned lightly when Harry hugged her close to his heart, his cheek stuffed into the crook of her neck and when his wet lips rumbled with a sob she pulled him back from shoulders cupping his cheeks.

"Harry? Hey, bambi eyed. Baby look at me." You sniffled wiping your every tear and he refused to look at you sobbing hoarsely, squeezing you to feel you for his dear life.

"Don't say somethin' like that. I wouldn't be able to live without ye'." He muttered silent tears soaking her neck collecting at the dip of her collarbones. She played with his curls smooching his cheeks cooing at him, "'m here baby. in your arms. 'm fine, we're fine." She gave him an eskimo kiss when he finally pulled back. Eyes fluttering as she took a deep breath feeling her lungs nutritioning after so long.

"Did you forgot your promise of making me your babies momma or I've to make you remember?" She tried to light up the mood and he just chuckled kissing her lips, when he stood up she pouted making grabby hands at him.

"Hold me?" She asked innocently. Harry ducked down brushing her hair and kissing her head, "gonna run a bath for us sweet angel."

Interlacing your fingers he guided you to your bathroom. Rose candle's flame flickered a shadow onto mauve tiles as the water had pink waves, the scent is so him and it calmed your nerves down.

He undressed you with soft movements, planting a kiss to your shoulder when you were complete naked infront of him. Settling inside the porcelain tub he took your hand helping you inside, making you sit in between his legs.

Your back to his chest. Head resting on his shoulder and his breath fanning your cheeks. It's nothing sexual. Just you two relaxing your nerves.

He coiled his hands over your tummy, running his thumb in careless patterns near your belly button as the water droplets dropped from his curl atop your breasts.

Exhaustion taking over you. Your eyes drooping and you've no idea when he took you out changing you into his clothes and into bed slipping under covers with you.

"'M always gonna be there for ye', whatever it will take my soul to." His whispers caused your lips to curl in a smile and you hummed snuggling your face into his arm scooping you to him.

.

A/N: I know it's very excruciating for people going through this difficulty, we don't have Harry physically in our lives but he has helped us alot. I feel you and I believe you. It's okay after every hardship there's a moment of happiness personally created for you. All the love!

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 7

So this chapter is in Ivar’s POV. Kind of a glimpse as to see what is going on with him. Plus, its a great excuse to write some Floki/Ivar interaction. 

Warnings: swearing, implied violence, Ivar having boundary issues but that’s not new. 

Words: 4550

Tag List: @heavenly1927​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @zuxiezendler​ @punkrocknpearls​ @love-all-things-writing​ @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

"There you are, you crippled bastard. I've been looking everywhere."

 Ivar smirked, exhaling the cigarette smoke from his mouth, not even turning his gaze from the lights of the city beneath him. "How did you get up here? I thought your old, lazy ass wouldn't be able to handle it."

 Floki scoffed as he moved to stand next to his protégé. "Old, lazy ass. I may be old but I could still kick your ass if I wanted too."

 Wordlessly, Ivar pulled out his cigarette carton from his suit’s pocket, taking one out and handing it to Floki. He grabbed his lighter and held it out, open palm. When Floki did not immediately take it, he glanced over to see one of the people he trusted most, staring down at the cigarette spinning between his fingers. 

 "I won't tell Helga."

 Floki giggled. "You're a bad influence on me, boy." He took the lighter and lit his cigarette, handing it back over after. 

 The two stood silently for several minutes, leaning against the railing, overlooking the city. They were at the Ragnarssons Trading headquarters, one of the taller buildings in the heart of the city. The sound of humanity floated away to a hushed background noise with how high up they stood. The upper floors of the building were restricted access, being the main offices and meeting rooms of Ragnar, his sons and others deemed important. The lower floors housed the cesspool of asinine insubordinates, those that did their limited jobs and were easily replaced. Ivar avoided those floors, not just because of the stares, or the twittering females and few males who vied for attention from the Ragnarssons in hopes of snatching one up or thinking sleeping with them as an easy way to further their careers. No, he found them all boring and beneath him. With a single look, he knew what many of them wanted, they were so easy to read, to know their simple minds. It was pathetic. 

 So, when he did come to the headquarters, he immediately headed to the upper floors. He had an office next to Torstein that he used infrequently. Most of his work he could do remotely, a blessing due to his condition and his volatile temperament. When he had work that needed extra cyber security or to delve deeper into concerns, having the multiple monitors at his office and the ability to search out his father or brothers immediately came in handy. 

 The roof of the building was his favorite place to think and plan. No one came up here but more than that, he could see everything. The city, the surrounding water, everything. He wondered if this was what the gods felt like looking down on Midgard from Valhalla. 

 Ivar exhaled, the curl of smoke slipping from his lips. "Are you coming to the meeting?"

 Floki ran a hand over his tattooed head. "Your father asked for me to come."

 "Mmmm. Know what it's about?"

 "Probably the same old boring shit."

 They chuckled, still staring over the city. Out of the corner of his eye, Ivar could see Floki tug uncomfortably on the black business suit he wore. The only reason the shipbuilder ever wore anything remotely formal was when Ragnar demanded it….and coming to the headquarters fit into the category. Ragnar liked to say that if they wanted to be taken as serious businessmen then they needed to dress the part, and it was not too difficult to wash blood out of the suits. 

 The youngest Lothbrok leaned against the railing in a charcoal gray suit, his dark hair pulled back into a man-bun. He did not mind the formal attire as much, there was a sense of prestige and strength that came with it. On more than one occasion, he had been told he presented a striking figure and he liked to use that to his advantage. Whether it was terror or arousal that his figure caused depended on the person. He knew how to control them all. 

 A vibration had Ivar pulling out his phone to see a new text from Kari. He smiled softly at her cheeky response. When asked what she was doing tonight, she said she was taking a bubble bath and reading a book. He said he did not believe her and demanded a picture as proof she was actually taking a bubble bath like a child. Now he gazed down at an image of her feet peeking out of bubbles against a porcelain bathtub. The picture was so innocent yet sensual, just like his kitten. An innocent seductress. His cock began to stiffen at the lewd ideas running rampage through his mind at the simple picture. 

 With her picture came a text.

 Kari: You should try it sometime. It's very relaxing. 

 He snorted. There was no way in hell he would ever take a bubble bath, and he figured she probably knew it. 

 Ivar: the only way I'm gtn n2 a bubble bath is if u in there w/ me

 Grinning smugly, he could imagine the flush on her cheeks at his answer as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

 Floki's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You going to tell me about her?"

 Ivar did not answer right away, taking a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaling it. "Nothing to fucking tell."

 "Hmmm…. I'd bet she is the only person you smile for like that."

 "Fuck…." He ran his hand over his mouth, before turning to lean his back against the roof's railing. Floki was right and clearly knew it if the sly look said anything. It made Ivar want to knock the smirk off the madman's face with his cane, which rested on the railing next to him. 

 "This isn't like Freydis, right?" Floki quietly inquired after several minutes of companionable silence. 

 "Gods, no. She is…." He found his words trailing off, unable to articulate what Kari meant to him. 

 Freydis had been a hope for someone more than just a fuck, someone who potentially cared for him. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that she may have cared for him, but she cared more for the status and money being in a relationship with him allowed. So, they used each other. She wasted his money on frivolous things, lavishing herself with stuff she would never dream of having otherwise. He used her for fucking and to have someone on his arm when they attended events, to silence the pitying looks from others and the comments that he did not know how to please a woman. 

 After ten months though, he found himself resenting her and their relationship. It was then he broke it off with her. She cried, supposedly heartbroken but he did not care. In the months following, she tried to worm her way back into his life but he slammed the door shut, uncaring of how cruel he appeared to others. He fucked other women or had them give him blow jobs, never even taking the time to remove his leg braces or pants. They meant nothing. They were nothing. 

 But all that changed a month ago when a woman with blue-green eyes and a sweet innocence about her bumped into him…. and then confused the hell out of him when she kissed him. 

 "What's her name?" Floki asked, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette.

 "Kari." He answered, probably sounding far softer than he meant to. After, he tilted his head to look at his surrogate father, brow furrowed. "How'd you find out?"

 "The gods told me." At Ivar's unamused look, Floki giggled. "Your brothers. They said you have a new girlfriend."

 "She's not."

 "Mmmm?"

 He sighed. "My girlfriend. She's made that very fucking clear. She keeps saying she can't be my girlfriend or she doesn't want to date right now. It's fucking infuriating!" He ripped the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it on the ground. "I don’t…. I don't fucking understand. She always says we're just friends, but I know she wants more. Sometimes I can see it when she looks at me. I don't know what to fucking do!" 

 "Why are you still wasting time on her then? She sounds like she doesn't care. Just move on from the bitch."

 "Don't you fucking call her that! And she does care! More than most people." He snarled, fists trembling at his side. When Floki only smirked at him, Ivar rolled his eyes, anger slowly abating. He played into the old man's game easily. 

 Floki dropped his own half-used cigarette, eyeing Ivar curiously. "What is it about this girl?"

 "She…. fuck…. she sees me. Not a cripple. Not some rich guy she can fuck and get stuff from. She sees... she sees me. Just me. Like you and mother. I don't….no one has looked at me like that. There's always a motive, always an angle. But not with her." The words rolled off his tongue, a dam unleashed, as if begging to have been finally uttered, to share his thoughts aloud to make sense of them. With Floki, he knew his thoughts were safe, that the man would never cruelly make fun of him. 

 "You really care about this girl."

 Ivar did not answer, the truth already hung in the air as if painted in the sky for all to see.  

 Floki moved closer, wrapping his arm around Ivar's shoulder and pressing their foreheads together. "Give her time. The gods will tell you what to do. But for fuck's sake, stop stalking her. Hvitserk made sure to tell us how you showed up at her work and home unannounced."

 Ivar chuckled, mirroring Floki's action. "Hvitty better keep his fucking hands off her."

 "He will. He sees how important she is to you." Floki leaned back, that stupid grin on his face. "When do I get to meet her?"

 "Why the hell do you think I'd let her meet your insane ass? She'd take one look at you and run away."

 "She puts up with your stupidity. I'd be an improvement for her." 

 "Fuck off." Ivar laughed, throwing a mock punch at the man. "I've only known her for a month."

 "But it feels longer, right?"

 Ivar startled at the soft tone Floki used, like he knew exactly how Ivar felt. For once, he wondered if this was how Helga and Floki’s relationship felt. His tone was just as quiet, almost reverent as he answered. "Yeah."

 "Don't do something stupid and lose her. Meet her where she is. Be her friend if that's what she wants. She seems good for you."

 "Where is this wisdom coming from?" Ivar scoffed, running a hand over the braids on top of his head. 

 "I've always been wise, you just don't listen, pretentious asshole."

 "No, it's Helga that's the wise one."

 "My sweet Helga certainly is." Floki clapped a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "Come on, the meeting will be starting soon. I was sent to find your crippled ass."

 "Why the fuck are we talking then?"

 "I wanted to hear about this girl. From the sounds of it, you'll start waxing poetic sonnets about the poor girl soon and the gods will certainly…."

 "Shut the fuck up." 

 Talking casually about the latest boat Floki was working on building back home in Norway, they headed towards the meeting room attached to Ragnar's office. The trip from the roof to the meeting room should have been quick but Ivar moved slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. He knew the whites of his eyes had an alarming shade of blue. He had seen it that morning when he looked in the mirror but even more so, he could feel it in his bones. It felt as if with one simple misstep, he would break a bone. The fragility of his body was never more evident than on these days. 

 He loathed it. 

 Thankfully, Floki made no comments about Ivar's eyes or his slow, measured gait. Instead he talked, making sure to hold doors open and continued in his loping walk as if they were on a leisurely stroll. He did comment about how nice Ivar's cane was and asked if he had used it on anyone recently. 

 The cane had been a gift from Floki three years ago for his birthday. It appeared to be an expensive cane made up of an ebony tapered shaft and sterling silver handle with a snarling wolf's head. What only a few knew was that if Ivar twisted the handle and pulled, a long, slender knife came out, the blade attached to the handle. Plus, the shaft of the cane was reinforced with a sturdy material, making it easily used as a blunt force object without fear of it bending or denting. Floki had said long ago that one should never be without a weapon, and the cane was his way of ensuring Ivar followed that sentiment. 

 The private meeting room of Ragnar was a spacious corner room with two walls made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, a dark hardwood flooring and deep green walls. A single slab wooden oak table was the centerpiece of the room, with cushioned chairs around it. Currently all those seats were filled besides two, signifying that Floki and Ivar were the last to arrive at the meeting. 

 Ragnar Lothbrok looked up as they entered the meeting room, appearing both suave and intimidating in his gray business suit and hair plaited. "Where have you two been?" He narrowed his piercing eyes at Floki. "I thought Helga wanted you to stop smoking."

 "Your son is very convincing." Floki shrugged. 

 The patriarch's lips twitched in a suppressed smirk. He waved at the almost full table. "Sit. Let's get this started."

 At the beginning of each month, Ragnar liked to meet with his sons and few trusted advisors to review the past month and discuss anything important in the future. It was his way of checking in with progress and making sure everyone was doing their jobs, while keeping all informed. Ivar typically found the meetings boring and a waste of time, but he made sure to attend them like a dutiful son. 

 In this particular meeting, Ragnar discussed how he would be meeting with Ecbert of Saxon Industries in a week, an impromptu decision but Ecbert had insisted of its necessity. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes but kept his thoughts to himself. He knew by the way Floki clenched and unclenched his fist on Ivar's left that he felt the same way. A glance at his brothers showed the two latecomers were not the only skeptical ones. Ecbert and Ragnar had a mutual respect for one another but it did not stop them from betraying and trying to sabotage each other's businesses when it pleased them. Aella, who ran the Northern part of Saxon Industries, made no qualms about showing his disdain for Ragnar and his family, labeling them nothing more than "power-mongering, bloodthirsty heathens who allowed their animalistic tendencies to rule them". 

 To say there was bad blood between Ragnar and his sons with Aella was an understatement. 

 Years prior, Saxon Industries had been the leader in imports and exports in the United Kingdom and Ireland but all that changed once Ragnar set his gaze upon those shores. Now, Ragnarssons Trading was the powerhouse of the United Kingdom, Scandinavia, and France, with that influence expanding even more as trade flourished around the Mediterranean.  

 Saxon Industries was forced to turn their ventures to North America, something that caused resentment from both Ecbert and Aella, even if Aella was the only one vocal about it. 

 Ivar personally thought they should just wipe out the competition, utterly destroy Saxon Industries until it held no hope of recovery. It would also send the perfect message to any who tried to compete against them in the future. 

 At the conclusion of the meeting, Ivar rose from his seat, still moving slower than normal. He could feel the tenderness in his muscles and bones. A silent threat to his body. The concerned looks from those around did not help. It only happened every few months now, but he still hated the pitying looks. 

 "Ivar, I need to speak with you." Ragnar announced, momentarily breaking off his conversation with Torstein and Sigurd at the head of the table. Ivar nodded his understanding. With a muted groan, he sat back down in the plush chair and pulled out his phone.

 "Want me to wait for you?" Hvitserk asked, coming to his side. 

 "Nah, go ahead. I'll see you at home."

 Hvitserk gently clapped him on the shoulder then leaned down to whisper smugly. "Tell Kari hello from me."

 "Fuck off!" Ivar said, making his elder brother laugh as he walked out. 

 Speaking of, Ivar opened his phone to view the response from Kari to his previous message.

 Kari: unbelievable. 

 For a second, he considered replying but closed out of the text. At this late hour, she would already be asleep due to how early she regularly woke up. Instead he decided to wait until the morning to reply. 

 Soon enough, everyone trickled out of the meeting room leaving him alone with his father. Once it was just the two of them, Ivar watched as the confident, composed expression typical on his father's face slid away to reveal something more haggard. He straightened in his chair when his father walked across the room and pointedly closed and locked the doors before taking the seat next to him. 

 Ragnar rubbed a hand down his face, gazing out the open window before them. A sudden falling star streaked across the sky, momentarily distracting Ivar from his impatience, which thudded in his chest like a drum, growing louder and louder each moment his father kept them locked in silence. 

 "What I'm going to tell you does not leave this room. If you have any questions, you come to me directly. Understood?"

 Turning his head to eye his father with intrigue, Ivar nodded. "Understood."

 Only after that did Ragnar shift to meet Ivar's intense blue eyes with his own. "Our security system caught an email being sent out which contained an itemized list of some shipments we will be sending next month to our friends in Finland."

 Ivar's eyebrows rose. About ninety percent of Ragnarssons Trading was legal, something his father was very proud of considering how the company started. That hidden ten percent, it allowed them to stay connected to the black market and underground trading, to know things before they happened. Most recently they had made contact with a new buyer from Finland who had an affinity for certain illegal weapons. 

 Ragnar leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his mouth before continuing as if it pained him to utter the words. "It seems the damn email was supposed to be encrypted but somehow never fully transitioned, leaving half of it legible. We know it was sent from this building."

 "Do you know who the recipient was?"

 "The Russian mafia in Thailand."

 Ivar sharply inhaled, his mind furiously working on the implications, plus what their next steps should be. "What do you want me to do?"

 "I want you to find out who the fuck is selling us out. By any means necessary….and I want to burn them alive."

 A sinister grin grew on Ivar's face, matching the one on his father's. 

 "Consider it done."

 "Good." Ragnar absent-mindedly tapped the table with his fist. "This is your main priority but completely confidential, not even a word to your brothers."

 "You think it's one of them?"

 "No, but we don't know who is close to them that it might be." Ragnar reassured.

 Ivar rubbed a hand over his mouth as he thought, eyes drifting to the window. "I'll trace from my office. If the need arises, I'll go to Norway with Mother."

 "Good. You've never failed me. I know you won't in this."

 Ivar's heart swelled at the praise, something he rarely received from his ambitious and frequently absent father, especially during his childhood. 

 After a long moment, Ragnar reclined back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "Your eyes are blue."

 "They are always blue, courtesy of your genetics." Ivar retorted harshly, already knowing where this was going. 

 "You know what I mean, Ivar." His father flatly stated. "If you break something, your mother will be breathing down both of our necks."

 "I'm not a fucking child, I can take care of myself."

 Ragnar hummed, seeming amused by his son's antagonized state. "Don't come into the office tomorrow."

 "I'll do whatever the fuck I want to."

 "Start whatever you want, but for gods' sake, stay in bed where you can rest. If I get a call that you're in the damn hospital with a broken bone, I'll break something else on you." He threatened, pointing a finger at his son.

 Ivar sneered, "Mother will skin you alive."

 Ragnar chuckled darkly, leaning back once again. "No, her style would be to sabotage me somehow. Now get out of here. Your brothers planned on going out for drinks tonight, are you going to join them?"

 He opened his mouth to answer when an impulsive idea latched itself in his mind. "No…." He answered slowly, a wicked smirk curled on his lips. "I think I'm going to bed."

 "Alright."

 Ivar rose, leaning on his cane. After taking a few steps away, he turned back to see his father watching him curiously. "Doesn't mean it's going to be my bed."

 With that, he walked out of the meeting room to the sound of Ragnar laughing loudly behind him.  

 *****

 He closed the bedroom door silently behind him, pleased with how the house remained quiet as he moved about. It was nearing two in the morning and the last thing he wanted was the police called with the neighbors thinking he was a burglar or something ridiculous. 

 Gently, he leaned his cane against the wall then proceeded to slip his shoes and shirt off. He dropped them on the floor, overly aware of any noise he made. Carefully, he maneuvered to the side of the bed, feeling very much like a thief in the night though he ignored it, and eased his legs out of his braces, setting them on the ground. Next, he slid under the rumpled covers, pleased when the bed's other occupant did not wake. His heart pounded in his chest though it did not deter his actions, if anything the forbidden feel spurred him on. Laying on his side, he placed his arm around her. Cautious of his body, he scooted closer to her until his chest was to her back. Before he could fully relax, she began to stir. 

 "Mmmm?"

 He tenderly placed a kiss on the back of her neck before murmuring. "Shhh, go to sleep."

 "Ivar?" Kari asked sleepily, her body tensing under his touch. 

 "Yes. Go back to sleep."

 At his words, she twisted in his arms to face him, his arm still over her waist comfortably. He could hear the sleep fading from her voice. "What? What are you doing here?"

 "Trying to sleep." He answered coolly, a flash of irritation shooting through him. Why was she questioning him? All he wanted to do right now was sleep with her in his arms. The increasing pain in his traitorous body made him want to lash out. To demand she shut up and let them sleep. He bit his tongue before the venom could erupt. Logically he knew his presence was unexpected and surprising at this hour, but he had hoped she would be more excited to see him. 

 "That…. what? How did you get into my house?" She demanded, trying to wriggle out of his hold but to no avail. 

 "I have a key."

 That easy statement made her freeze. "You have a key…." She slowly repeated. After a moment, she sighed, relaxing back into his embrace. "You know what, I'm too tired. We'll talk about that fact in the morning. Why are you here though?"

 Maybe it was the darkness surrounding them or the enticing sleepy voice of hers, either way he found himself answering honestly…. a bit too honestly. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he quietly confessed. "I missed you….and I don't want to be alone."

 They laid there for several seconds in a tense silence. Even though she did not pull away from him, he could practically feel her over-thinking. If she told him to leave right now, he wondered if his dark heart would splinter. Over the past month she had become so vitally important to him. When he first met her, his interest had been fueled by lust plus the mystery and innocent aura around her. He wanted her. Now though, it had moved beyond want. It was a need. As much as he needed air to breathe, his mind and body coveted her. She somehow slipped past his guarded heart to entangle herself in his very core. Her presence soothed the violence that controlled his mind, she gentled his rage. She cared about him, not because of who or what he was, like everyone else. No, she cared about him as his own person, as simply Ivar. 

 Finally, she spoke in a resigned whisper. "Fine. Go to sleep, Ivar."

 "I was trying to but someone kept asking me questions." He quipped, in hopes to hide the joy and relief in his voice. 

 She grumbled, then turned over and tried to move away from him but he was not going to have that. Not now. Not where he wanted her to be after so long. Where she deserved to be. With the arm around her waist, he pulled himself against her until they were spooning. At first, she attempted to fight him, squirming away, but after a few moments she surrendered. A barely suppressed chuckle escaped him, as he tightened his hold on her. She felt so perfect in his arms, like the gods created her to fit flawlessly against him, two puzzle pieces that finally found their match. He pressed his face into her hair, nuzzling into her. His elation only increased when her fingers intertwined with his that were splayed just under her breasts. A fond smile danced on his lips at her acceptance. 

 Within moments, he felt her go limp against him, sleep consuming her one again. He lightly kissed the back of her neck, pleased when he thought he heard a content hum come from her at the action.

 Knowing his kitten, there would be hell to pay come morning, but for now, he needed this. Her body against his, to feel her heartbeat, to know she was safe. It was something that was no longer optional. He felt a man possessed, bewitched. Everything about her cast him under her spell- her beauty, her friendship, her tenderness towards him, the silly ways she made him laugh, and how she stood up for him. She was his. His responsibility. His devotion. His peace. His kitten. His alone. 

 "God natt, min skatt." He whispered against her skin. (Good night, my treasure)

 It did not take long for him to follow her into sleep, more at peace in this moment than he had been for in years.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 18

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

NOTE: Third Person POV starts after this sign: " ✪ "

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

With Bucky, three short days felt like three months.

The next few days were spent oh-so-blisfully slow with Bucky constantly next to you, either naked or clothed. You were always at each other's skin and flesh the second you would close your laptop (you have been busy doing your end of the presentation you had to pitch in next week for Sam, after Steve gets you formally and officially fired). You’d be making out on the couch and soon afterwards, clothes flew around like money being tossed carelessly. No matter what the situation was, it always ended up with you naked, grasping each other's bodies, grazing each other's skin — in your bedroom, in the kitchen, in the shower, and on the living room floor. He wore you like a necklace, your thighs wrapped around his neck as you sat on the kitchen counter, him on his knees, devouring every bit of you. That time, you tried your best to stare at him as he ate you.

Tantalizing were his eyes, his mouth moving against your core. Legs shaking, you’d scream his name over and over again as you came all over his mouth, your screams clashing with the sounds of pots clanging against each other.

Then, you’d move to the shower where you had your thighs wrapped around his waist, your bare back against the bathroom's slippery walls as he thrusted inside you. His strong hands kept you steady the whole time as your legs trembled around him, making you weaker and weaker each second, like your knees had been struck by a wrecking ball.

He gave and he gave and he gave pleasure, riding you into your euphoria, into your oblivion. You were no longer the master of your body. You became his, as he was yours. You submitted fully to his godly control. The phrases "fuck, babydoll" and "you feel so fucking good" and "say my name, sweetheart" were forever etched in your brain. You kept the frustration of not being in control to yourself. You kept it all as he instructed you to say his name, say it louder until you could no longer remember yours, until you could no longer hear the dripping noise of the water droplets against the floor.

His face, the epitome of a god and a devil. A god that brought your voice and soul to heaven, so bright and glorious. And a devil that brought unholy things to your body.

As much as you had your thighs wrapped around him, you knew he had you wrapped around his finger. You knew it all too well.

Since then, you couldn't hear the clinking of utensils against each other or the faucet leaking or any kind of liquid dripping without seeing what Bucky looked like during those hours — knees on the ground, head between your thighs, body dripping with water along with your juices. And how he made you feel. God, the thought of him alone already brought you to heaven.

Afraid that you won't be able to get your mind (and body) off of Bucky, you texted Nat to meet you in a coffee shop a few blocks away from the apartment, hoping she could accompany you while working on the pitch deck. If you spent one more time with Bucky with your presentation undone you would be — well... Either way, you would be screwed.

This morning, you left a note on the nightstand, letting Bucky know you were with Nat. You planted a fleeting kiss on his forehead one last time, smiling at him, hating to leave his side, before heading out to meet with Nat who was almost an hour late, anyway. Still, you didn't get much done, missing Bucky's presence.

Then the hopes of getting your mind off my man went down the drain, hearing the clinking of glasses and the dripping liquid from espresso machines on the café counter. You bit your lip, staring at the laptop screen in front. Your screams echoed on the walls of your brain, together with morphed images of you and Bucky leaving your traces everywhere in the apartment, tainting lust everywhere. You bit your lower lip harder. A sudden rush of heat climbing on your body, from your toes, to your thighs, and your center.

Why didn't I just go to the public library?

"... Y/n? Hello? Earth to y/n?"

The images vanished like dust in the wind, and were replaced by Nat snapping her fingers on your face. Bucky's voice, together with yours that were echoing in your mind soon became faint street noise, along with the café's playlist. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

With your throat dry, you cleared your throat (which hurt even more). "Y-yeah." You finally managed to say. "Yeah, no, I was just having a tiny problem. You know what, I'm thirsty," You tapped a waitress' shoulder, "Hi, can I please have a glass of cold water? Thank you."

With that, she nodded and turned around, fetching what you needed. As soon as she handed you the glass, you immediately downed the whole thing but it still didn't quench your thirst.

"Is he riding you?"

You nearly choked on your water, hearing Nat's question. "W-what?"

"Sam Wilson. I mean, the work. With Sam?" Nat frowned, stirring her cup of coffee. "Is he?"

"Oh no, not at all! He's been really great and very appreciative." You replied. "But he has this assistant who's a complete total bitch. Even Bucky doesn't like her."

"Oohhh, interesting." she said. "Tell me all about it."

Thankfully, telling Nat about the meeting that happened three days ago did get your mind off Bucky. Highlighting the little banter you and Sharon had in line with the models and the whole marketing strategy was Nat's favorite. Of course, Nat lived for the drama. Especially if it were others'. To her, you were just characters on a television show. Now, all she needed was a bucket of popcorn.

"You should've seen the whole thing, Nat." You smirked. "The look on her face when Sam agreed with me? Priceless!"

"Wow, you ate her up." Nat chuckled. "Now, I'm sad I missed the show. If I were there, I would've taken a photo of her disappointed, sad ass and had it framed and had it hung on the bar. Steve would approve of it."

You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head. Even though that was pretty badass of you to do, Sharon was a woman living in a man's world and as you thought about that encounter, she was just doing her job. If she were a man, you would've still said the same thing. "Too harsh. A little cheer would suffice."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Like a woop, woop?"

"I mean not literally but sure. Whatever floats your little boat."

"Peter was right. You're a boring old hag." A sip of coffee. "Hey, how's the little skipper, anyway? I miss that little kid."

You fowned. She always had a nickname for Peter. If it's not skipper, it's slugger, or sport, or tiger, or any nickname for a kid you could think of. "You know he's just as young as I am, right?"

"The guy looks like a kid and sometimes acts like one." Nat pursed her lips, pointing it out. "So, when's he getting back from his corporate retreat?"

The last you heard from Peter was yesterday when he sent photos of him and the rest of his team somewhere by the lake. He looked a bit worn-out by the deep bags under his eyes but his wide smile said otherwise. Winston Schimdt was with him in all the photos, hair still perfectly gelled, spiking up in one direction. You wondered how much gel he always had to consume. And then felt sad for his sticky hair.

"Some time on Tuesday, I think." Then, you showed the photos to Nat who carelessly took the phone from your hands.

"Where on earth is this?"

You shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I couldn't even pin his location. It seems like he's literally off the radar."

"Maybe he's in a galaxy far, far away." Nat joked, remembering Peter's fondness for Star Wars. "What do you even do on a corporate retreat? Think about money?"

"I don't know but whatever it is, he says it'll help keep his mind off things." You said, leaving out the part that Peter was, dare you say, "lovesick." You honestly didn't mind telling it to her but you just knew that she'd ask you a bunch of questions you don't even know the answers to.

Nat nodded while scrolling mindlessly on your phone like it was her own. You tried to get it back but she gripped it tighter.

"Hope Bucky's taking care of you? Oh," she lifted her eyes back to yours, the light on your screen illuminating her smirking face, "he's taking care of you, alright. I heard you two haven't been able to keep your hands off each other. You're like... leeches."

"Ew. Think of another metaphor." You scrunched your nose up, cringing.

Nat took it way too seriously, thinking off into the far distance. "Barnacles on a boat?"

"No."

"Sorry, that's all I can think of."

You chuckled. "Where did you hear that, anyway?"

"I didn't."

"So, how did you — "

"Remember how you found out about me and Steve?" She cut you off.

You hid your face on your palms as soon as the realization dawned on you. "Oh no."

"Oh yes." She took another sip of her hot coffee, her eyes fixed on you. "Babydoll, you've been wearing him like a damn perfume since day one and you love it."

And just when you thought you had kept Bucky away from your mind, there he was again, slithering his way back. The images flashed back, like a montage in a romance film — however cliche that sounded.

"Well, I don't not love it." You shied away, looking down on your shoes which still had a tiny bit of mud from your previous running sessions.

"So, you two are dating now?"

You sheepishly nodded your head, avoiding her stare. You told her about that same day you had your meeting: Sam's confrontation and the conversation you and Bucky had that night. As much as you didn't want to put a label on things, and as much as you hated the god-awful "talk", you fat did it anyway, under the stars as you lied on your backs in that little tent of yours.

"Sometimes, I think," Bucky traced the stars in the pitch-black skies with his finger, "that the stars aligned for us." He finished by poking your nose which elicited a giggle from you. A weird sound you only used with Bucky, and for Bucky.

You turned around and wrapped your arm around his torso. "You're getting cheesier and cheesier each day, Mr. Barnes."

"You bring it out of me, doll." He chuckled.

"Hey, why do you call me doll?" You asked in a whisper. "I'm sure as hell do not look like one."

He looked at you and traced your jaw with his finger, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. "Dolls are sweet yet fun to play with. Remember when I made you that drink? You said it tasted fruity and minty — "

"Fruity and minty." You laughed, reminiscing.

"And I've never played with quite a doll before." Then, he met your eyes. "Then, you happened."

"When you say play, not like, playing with my feelings, right? 'Cause you know this doll can punch, James. I won't hesitate."

"Don't worry, y/n." he kissed the tip of your nose.

The word "dating" wasn't explicit at that moment, but you didn't need to, anyway. All you needed to hear from him was the next words he uttered:

"I won't give you any reason to."

"What have you guys been doing when you're not having sex, anyway?"

"Nat." You scolded but answered anyway. "We watch movies."

"Boring."

"Oh, you know what's a good movie?" You asked, ignoring Nat's little comment. "The Grand Budapest Hotel."

"It's Budapesht."

You tilted your head to the side, frowning. "I'm pretty sure it's Budapest. 'Cause y'know, Budapest is the Budabest."

"No. Budapesht." She insisted.

"Budapesht is the Budabesht?" She nodded. "Yeah, that doesn't sit right with me. I'm gonna stick with Budapest."

"Anyway... will you tell Peter about you two when he gets back from... wherever the hell he is?"

"Well, yeah of course. It's Parker." You replied, chewing your inner cheek. "But not right away." Bucky's words echoed in yours.

"Oh, you're gonna butter him up." Nat chuckled, finishing her cup of coffee. "I know how. Give him free drinks for life."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't 'cause last night was my last shift at the bar." You smiled proudly, thinking back to the last drink you ever made last night. Everyone was there to witness it — except Sam. When you sent the photos to Peter, you were bombarded with a series of questions that you promised to answer once he gets back.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Nat suddenly exclaimed, catching other people's attention, clearly annoyed with her. She stifled a giggle, looking away from them. "That reminds me." She said it quietly this time. "We're throwing you a little party tonight. Steve's idea."

"Like a surprise party?"

"Well, it's not a surprise anymore 'cause I blabbed. So, act surprised when you get there and finish up your presentation."

You posed no further questions, the idea of a surprise party warming your heart. You just smiled at Nat, and got back to the laptop screen. "Yes, ma'am."

Later that night, you did as you were instructed to do as you opened the door to the bar: act surprised. "Oh my god, you guys!" You exclaimed, putting on a wide smile on your face. The small party might have been a surprise but the decorations put up wasn't. Hanging from the ceiling on multiple threads were your photos which used to be on the walls.

Every single one of them.

Below were everyone waiting —Nat, Steve, Nick, Bucky and even Sam — and watching your reaction as you adored the whole set-up. Steve was the first one to approach you, enveloping you in a hug.

"Oh my god, Steve." You muttered, hugging him back.

"Surprised?"

"Not really." You pulled away. "A pretty little number may have told me." you said, looking over at Nat who already had a beer in her hand. She acknowledged you by winking.

"Natasha." Steve sighed, also looking at Nat. Caught, she turned around and took a big gulp of her beer.

You began to walk towards the little group; an odd combination of people, you might as well add. "This is amazing, Steve."

"The whole party was my idea but these photos?" He said, pushing you carefully towards Bucky's direction who took delight in your expression. "Was your man's."

You walked towards Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, you."

"Hey, doll." He greeted, kissing your cheek. "Like the place?"

"Are you kidding me? I love it!" With your arm still around his neck, you admired the photos hanging from the ceiling once more. Bucky let you go, greeting the others as well.

Nick engulfed you in a hug, and whispered. "If he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."

You chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Nick, you can't even hurt a fly. But thanks, anyway. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"You better." He said. “We actually got acquainted while we were decorating the place. He's a good man, y/n. It's a good thing you didn't go out with me."

"If you want, I'll set you up with Parker." You joked.

"Ha-ha, you're a very funny girl."

With all the tables drawn towards one side of the bar, a big space on the center was in view, perfect for dancing or any kind of performance you could possibly think of. You all went towards one of the largest booths that could accommodate all of you. On the table were a bunch of American food — wings, fries, burger, you name it. And of course, cold beer.

While eating and finishing your first bottle of beer, you asked the group to settle a tiny debate, which Nat didn't like.

"It's Budapesht!" Nat exclaimed, insistent. A crack on her voice was evident.

"Budapest!" Nick boomed, downing his first bottle. "Don't you know how to spell? It's clearly Budapest!"

"I told you, it's not Budapesht! Budapesht is not the Budabest. Budapest is!" You argued with Nat, high-giving Nick. "Team Budapest for the win!"

"Take it easy there, honey." Bucky chuckled, grabbing you by the waist.

"Budapesht!"

"Budapest!" You and Nick exclaimed.

"I'm Russian, it's Budapesht!"

"Bup-bup-bup-bup." Sam butted in, one elbow on the table, a finger pointing up the ceiling. "If there's a swarm of termites in my house, do I call the pest control, or the pesht control?"

"Ha! Budapest wins!" You yelled which annoyed Nat to no end. She threw a stick of fries to your face. "Hey!"

"Come to Russia." She said in an accent. "I dare you."

You all broke out in a laugh.

After eating most of the food, Steve stood up, retrieving something from the back of the bar. When he came out, a big karaoke machine was wheeled in. "Rented this baby for a special occasion." Steve said proudly, slapping the top of the karaoke machine. On his other hand was "Who wants to go first?"

"Hell yeah, I'd go first!" Sam shouted.

You couldn't even begin to describe the first few hours of that night. Sam and Nick were the most wasted among all of us, quickly developing a weird friendship. They hogged the karaoke machine the most, singing duets, singing a LOT of Adele, and Lady Gaga. At one point, Sam even sang a Taylor Swift classic, We are Never Ever Getting Back Together, and made a weird "weeee" sound while singing the song which cracked you all up. Steve sang an old mellow song. Nat sang American Pie, her raspy voice blending all too well with the melody. The only people left who haven't got a chance to sing and dance on the floor were you and Bucky.

"Come on, you lovebirds!" Sam groaned, shoving the songbook in front of your faces.

The others joined in a chant, finally convincing you and Bucky. You stood up, hand in hand, and approached the machine. "Wait, before we start," Bucky said, holding up a bottle of beer, "let me raise a toast to the girl I like most — "

"Oh, Bucky."

"To y/n!" He said your name proudly, raising his bottle. The others did as well, saying your name.

"And to Steve!" You raised your own. "For having the guts to fire me."

"To Steve!"

"And to you," you turned towards Bucky, "for believing in me."

"Oh, cut the crap already!" Nat shouted, cupping her mouth with her hands. "Sing, bitches!"

And on cue, Bucky punched in some numbers. A familiar melody came out, which made you shake your head at Bucky. "Oh god no."

"You love this song!" Bucky said.

"No, you love this song!"

He started to sing the first verses and when he almost came to the chorus, he offered his hand. "Come on, doll. Sing it with me... Now, I've got you in my sights. With these..."

"Hungry eyes!" You finally gave him, letting him pull you towards his body so you can share the microphone.

"One look at you and I can't disguise!"

"I've got hungry eyes. I feel the magic between you and I!"

"I feel the magic between you and I!"

You continued to sing, your backs facing the door. Suddenly, another voice chimed in, making you and Bucky turn around.

"Hey, guys!" Peter closed the door behind him, dropping his bags on the floor. "What did I miss?"

✪

On a high-rise building in the Upper East Side, Tony Stark of Stark Industries sat on his office chair, looking over the never-sleeping New York City. He watched the cars and people go by, like watching ants do their work in an ant-farm. So tiny. He thought, happily sitting on his empire he had been building for decades. He watched in amusement as more and more car lights appeared. The hues of red and yellow looked like teeny little dots in his view, which reminded him of stars, making himself the glimmering moon which stood high up on the skies, unreachable yet adored by the many.

A knock on the door interrupted his high. "Come in." Tony said.

A tall figure walked in, with legs that could go for miles and with hair as golden as the sun. "Sir." He spoke.

Tony didn't turn around in his chair, rather he looked at the tall glass windows in front of him. The city lights became blurry. All Tony could see now was his reflection staring back at him, and Jarvis'. He glanced at Jarvis on his right, then back at his own. "Jarvis." He acknowledged. "You have something for me, I believe."

"Yes, sir." Jarvis replied, the English accent heavy on his tone. "But I'm afraid you're not going to like it."

A frown started to form on Tony's face. "James?"

"Yes, sir." The tall blonde replied.

Bucky had been missing quite some appointments with potential partners and investors. Not that he did most of the work, anyway. He would sit in on meetings on end, letting his assistant or Leonard, his concierge, deal with the negotiations. In the end, Bucky gets most of the profit "running" the hotel. He was merely a figure, a presence needed for signatures on piles of papers. But he would know if he was being undermined, if he was being scammed. He knew how to handle business but he just chooses not to. No one knew this, of course, not even Peter; except the parties involved on Bucky's side and Tony Stark. Tony lets it slide, only because the White Wolf had been improving the past years but God did he hate that name.

"I gave you that hotel and no way in hell are you changing the name." Tony sternly said. They were eating dinner at a fancy restaurant in the Upper East Side.

Bucky's treat to butter him up for his good news. Well, good news for Bucky but not so much for Tony.

"I knew you'd say that." Bucky replied. "That's why I went ahead and scrapped the old name and changed it into something new while the renovation was happening."

"Oh, James." Tony sighed, his knife stopping midway through the juicy steak. "What's the name?"

"White Wolf."

"Oh for fuck's sakes."

"Mr. Stark?" Jarvis repeated for the third time, finally grabbing Tony's attention.

"Sorry." He replied. "So, what is it? What did you find?"

"Mr. Barnes has been seeing a girl."

Tony rolled his eyes and finally turned around in his chair, looking at Jarvis. "He's always seeing girls."

"I'm afraid it's different this time, sir. It's why he's been missing a lot of meetings lately. And it's just not a girl." He said.

"Apparently, she's Peter's best friend."

"Huh, that's a twist. Around Peter's age?"

"Yes."

"That is new."

"But that's not all, sir. I'm afraid James is getting acquainted with Mr. Rogers once more."

Tony's body stiffened. Eyes unblinking. "Rogers? Steve Rogers? Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent. This girl James has been seeing is an employee of Mr. Rogers. Some kind of bar underneath an apartment building on the Upper West Side."

Tony frowned. "I thought Rogers had been taken care of."

"He was, sir. This was just some... big coincidence."

"It's a big mistake." He spoke. "I need you to keep an eye on James and pull out Rogers' files. Find anything — everything you can about this new life of his."

"Understood, sir. How about the girl?"

Tony frowned, not seeing anything wrong with it. "I won't worry about it too much. If he falls in love, then that's good." His eyes flickered to the photo of Peter's mom who passed away years ago. "I mean, I did before."

"Alright, sir. I'll be heading out now."

He nodded, watching Jarvis walk away from him. "Jarvis."

Jarvis stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his boss once more. "James can never know, Vis. He can never know."

[catzula]

Kiss me so you won’t forget

》 35 An awkward kiss given after a first date. / Kuroo Tetsurou

Synopsis: 6 year old you sealed your promise with Kuroo with a kiss (on the cheek, but its still a kiss... right?) A promise that you would remember and wait each other until Kuroo could buy you a ring. You still remember, but does he?

Even though you weren't exactly best friends, you knew who Kuroo Tetsurou was, and really, who didn't? He was the captain of the volleyball team, one of the most handsome guy around, so smart and so cool, and also your first kiss.

Okay, okay, maybe not your first kiss- it was a small peck on the cheek, but you still counted it. You remembered the day it happened, you and he were playing in the playground, and even though you had just met that day, you felt like you knew each other forever.

He had told you he was going to marry you at the end of the day, and you still remembered the proud smirk on his lips as he promised you, his warm -and dirty- hand holding yours, those odd, golden eyes sparkling. "Just wait," he had told you, "wait till I can buy a ring." You nodded, trying to hide your joy from him.

"Promise me you won't forget me, 'kay?" He told you with a serious face.

"Okay." You had muttered, fidgeting your hands.

"And if I see any other boy here playing with you, I- I-" when he couldn't think of any threats, he held your other hand too, now holding both your hands, looking deep into your eyes. "I'll be really sad."

At that, you had smiled sweetly, without thinking much about it, you leaned in, and your lips touched his chubby cheeks. "I won't forget," you giggled, a kiss worth a promise. "But you have to promise you won't forget either."

And here you were, still remembering the day as clear as day, knowing it was a childish game, but still waiting. You had never forgotten about him, even though you hadn't seen him ever again, not until the first day of college, anyway.

A freshman, standing in the middle of the almost empty room, looking around like a fish out of water. You had no idea where your class was, and it didn't help to know your first ever lesson was Chemistry, your arch-nemesis. You thought of asking help from the people around you, but they all looked too mean for you, like they all were watching and snickering at you. Well, it was an exaggeration, they didn't really care about your presence there, and although some were laughing at the fish-out-of-water expression you had on your face, it was because you reminded them of their first day. 

Still, even though the paranoia you felt wasn't rational, it was there. So asking just anyone was out of the question. Chewing on your inner lip, you walked out to the hallway, hoping you could at least find a teacher so you could ask where the fuck the chemistry lab was. But instead of going to the d-block as you should've, you found yourself out in the garden. 

"Oh my god," you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples as you looked around, this time even gathering to courage to go and as someone. That was when you saw a head of dyed blond hair bending over the game console in his hands, looking very uncomfortable as he sat on the very edge of the bench.

You didn't want to, but you found yourself walking towards the blond, his eyes never once leaving the screen, his fingers moving smoothly over the buttons.

"E- excuse me?" You muttered when you stood there a few seconds, and he didn't notice you. He visibly flinched at your voice, averting his eyes to you. "I'm, uh, I'm a freshman." You told him as if that explained everything. When he didn't answer, you cleared your throat. "I'm looking for the chemistry lab? I'm very late, and-"

"Kenma." You heard someone call from right behind you, the voice sending chills down your arms for an unexplainable reason. You turned around on your heels to see just who it was. He stood a few steps away from you, brows slightly furrowed as his golden eyes studied your face. Golden eyes that were too familiar. It didn't take you long to recognize who it was, the unruly, raven hair of his being the biggest hint. 

(You were a bit surprised he kept the hair though, because really, what even is that?)

Your lips parted, letting out a small gasp as you recognized, connecting the memory from so long ago with the tall boy that stood before you. The way his eyes examined your face, he probably thought he had seen you before, and you waited for him to remember, heart pounding in your chest because finally-

"I've been looking for you all around." He spoke softly, voice laced with concern, and your eyes widened, gaping at him because his words could only mean that he remembered, he really remembered. 

It took you a few seconds to realize he hadn't. His eyes weren't on you anymore, but on the small boy that slouched over his game. Kenma, ever the perceptive boy, noticed the slight slump of your shoulders, the disappointment that flashed in your eyes.

"I was here." Kenma shrugged, his eyes once again finding his game console. "Could you help her, though? She's lost, apparently, and I'm about to face the boss." 

"Oh, sure." He shrugged, a grin suddenly appearing on his lips, eyes slightly narrowing in a flirtatious manner. "Freshman, huh?" 

"That obvious?" You muttered, forcing a nervous laugh, and he chuckled. "Yeah." 

~~~

The walk felt like an hour. You quickly noticed Kuroo was pretty popular by the looks and whispers that followed you both, and frankly, this was not the first impression you wished to give. 

You anxiously fidgeted your hands, your gaze on your steps as he talked about... something.(what was he talking about again? You had forgotten to listen.)

"And, this is the chemistry lab." He told you, stopping suddenly and causing you to fall off balance. "Woah, careful." He grinned, holding you by the wrist before you fell flat on your face.

"Thanks." You told him with a giggle, biting your lip when you looked at the time. "The class is literally over in 10 minutes." You sighed. "I'll just skip it."

"Wow, rebellious, are we? And skipping chemistry? You must be out of your mind." He teased, chuckling. You shrugged, smiling back. "I don't really like chemistry anyway."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." He frowned, "come on, there are benches right around the corner so we can sit."

"Oh, it's okay, and you probably have classes anyway. Thank you so much for helping me, though." You told him with a smile, feeling bad for parting since he was fun to be around, but you didn't want him to feel like a babysitter. 

"My next class is also in this block, don't worry about it. What's your next class? We don't want you to get lost again, you know?" He grinned, making heat rush to your face. "It's math... I think." You answered as you followed him to the bench. 

"Here you go." He told you when he came back from the automat, a can of coffee in his hand. "The coffee tastes like shit, but it still does the job." He kept talking as he opened the can, making a face as he downed the coffee. 

"Oh, shit." You coughed after you took a sip, making him laugh, the rich voice making you shiver. "I told you." 

You sat there until the next lesson, the conversation never-ending, full of laughs, and it felt like that first day you had met. It felt like you knew each other all your lives, like you hadn't only met that day. Still, you neatly avoided ever talking about how you had met before -or that he had proposed to you-. It did kind of sting that he didn't remember when you hadn't forgotten all these years, but it was okay. You were kids, after all.

"You know, this was nice." He told you when you stood up to go back to your class, running one hand through his hair, he looked... nervous?

"It was, thank you for your help." You told him. "And the very bad coffee, too." You added, once again making him laugh. "It's a pleasure." 

He bit on his lip, his eyes locked to yours as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. Or maybe it was... Did he finally remember?

"Would you like me to walk you to the class? Do you remember the directions?" 

"It's okay, I remember." You chuckled, missing the letdown look in his eyes. "Oh, okay." He muttered. 

Oh. 

You turned around to walk to class, stopping mid-track when you heard him call your name. "Yes, Kuroo-kun?" You asked sweetly when he didn't say anything for a few seconds. 

"I was thinking..." He muttered. "I can... you know, give you my number." He scratched the back of his neck anxiously. "So I can help if you ever get lost." He added when you didn't answer (you were still trying to process that he offered you his number?!)

"Oh, that would be amazing!" You told him a bit too excitedly. "Th- that's really sweet, thank you." You tried to suppress your grin as he entered his number into your phone. 

"You can always text me." He told you with a fake chough that was meant to hide his embarrassment. "Not only when- I mean if you get lost, but also if you ever need any help. Or just anything, really." He chuckled when he noticed your flushed stare. 

"You should probably go now," he told you. "You class is about to start." 

"Oh, shit!" You muttered, starting to run as you realized he was right. 

~~~

"Oh, hey Kenma!" You greeted your friend when he walked towards you. You were glad he had relaxed around you, feeling safe when it was just you two. 

"Hey, Y/N." He greeted back quietly. "Waiting for Kuroo?"

You nodded with a shy smile, averting your eyes from his golden ones to your hands. "He should be here any minute now."

"I doubt it." Kenma shrugged. "He was trying to shape his hair last time I saw him. He has been working on it ever since." He snickered villainously. "And that was 3 hours ago." 

You couldn't help but laugh at that, the image of Kuroo's frustrated face as he tried to rule his hair somewhat, making your shoulders shake with laughter. 

"What are you laughing at?" You heard someone talk from right behind you and making you jump in your place. "N-nothing!" You answered instantly when you recognized him. 

"I thought you were going to fix your hair." Kenma muttered, his words causing Kuroo's face to twist with shock, anger, and disappointment. 

"I did fix my hair!"

~~~

A date with Kuroo Tetsurou. 

You always imagined it would be amazing, but not this good. It was unfair how funny he was, how smart and good-looking. It was always enjoyable to be around him, but having his full attention on you, like this, romantically, was something else. 

It hadn't taken long after that second first time you had met for him to ask you out. You were hanging out almost every day anyway, he usually accompanied you to your classes, sometimes even waiting for you. 

So here you were. Kuroo had decided to go on a picnic for your first date, brought cookies and sandwiches and this time decent coffee, even fruits, and at least 20 bananas? You didn't ask him about the bananas, though.

You had been sitting there, on the top of the hill, for hours now. The sun had already set, stars showing up in the sky, but neither of you wanted to part. 

Kuroo was leaning on a tree, his arm slumped on your shoulder, pulling you towards his chest. It didn't feel awkward or odd to be in this position with him, but you weren't sure why (or how). You skid closer to him, dropping your head on his shoulder, aware of the grin on his lips when you didn't push him back. 

You sat like that for god knows how long, only deciding to go back when he noticed you were about to fall asleep between his arms. The ride back to your house was silent, the comforting kind that made you both smile. It was dark, the lights coming from the traffic every once in a while illuminating your pretty face, causing him to think this was yet another dream. He had no idea how he managed to make you fall for him, too, but Kuroo was grateful he did.

He tapped your shoulder slightly when you arrived, waking you up from your daze. "Y/N." He muttered, smiling. "We're here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep." You answered with a cheeky smile. "So I thought." He chuckled. "So, uh, thank you for today." He told you, rubbing the back of his neck and causing you to scream internally at how adorable he was. 

"It was really nice." He kept on awkwardly when you stood silent and fiddled your fingers with your now unfastened seatbelt.

"I had so much fun, too." You answered, biting your lips as you thought of what to say next, but he acted before you.

"By the way, Y/N, you know this was a date, right?" He suddenly asked, the question leaving you dumbfounded. When you didn't answer him for a few seconds, he felt his eyes widening. "Y/N- are you seriosuly-"

"Kuroo, what the hell?" You asked, unable to control your laughter anymore. "Of course I knew this was a date!"

"Ah, damn, my heart almost stopped." He clutched his chest, only making your laughter louder. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Oh, I just... wanted to confirm it so I could tell you something." He muttered, not proceeding whatsoever. "And that is?.." You persuaded him, making him chuckle and lean forward to bring his face closer to yours. "I wanted to tell you that- that I like you. A lot." He finally admitted.

"I like you, too." You whispered, suddenly aware of how close his lips were.

"And I really, really want to kiss you." 

"I'm not- I'm not stopping you." You confessed, making him chuckle just before his lips touched your lips. It was a small peck, his soft lips pressing yours slightly, his touch on your lips lingering a few seconds before he pulled back. 

"I think-" He whispered, slightly breathless because of the excitement and the way his heart pounded in his heart. "I've fallen for you hard." He chuckled. "I'm not- Umm, I'm sorry our first kiss wasn't in somewhere more romantic, though." Kuroo told you, and you could see the slight disappointment in his eyes. 

You bit your lip (the feeling of his lips still lingered on yours), chuckling anxiously. "You know, this wasn't exactly our first kiss." You shrugged.

"What?"

"I, umm, I did kiss you on the cheek before. To seal... a promise."

His brows furrowed, trying to understand what you were talking about, confusion evident in his eyes. "No, you didn't." 

"Kuroo," you told him with a mysterious smile. "I did." 

You opened the car door, knowing by the slight widening of his eyes, he was an eyelash away from remembering. "Well, good night." You smiled, enjoying the look of shock in his eyes. 

You shut the door just as he shouted your name, "Y/N, wait, I remember!"

~~~

Even though you weren't mad at him for forgetting, Kuroo still made up for it with thousands and thousands of more kisses.

[cocobutnochanel]

A Dream Too

Genre: angst, drama, romance, flashbacks, exboyfriend!Baekhyun

Main Characters: Byun Baekhyun x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: profanity, mature themes

Summary: Love or career, people always ask. When your ‘successful’ self crosses paths with the love of your life again, you’ll see another woman live your ‘dream’. 

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

'How do you truly move on?'

You ask yourself for the nth time today while waiting for the 20 minutes to pass you by so you can finally go home. Back to that thought, it was really confusing for you. You had no idea if you had moved on or just forgot. Or maybe, those wounds were just buried and no longer to be seen but nonetheless, still there.

"How do you move on?" You ask Dr. Kim who just entered your office, his tiny head peeping from the door's tiny crack. "Before you drift to your throughts again, you have a patient waiting. Your shift ain't over yet." Minseok, your friend since college and now colleague, calls the patient inside.

You sit straighter and clear your throat. A woman your age walks in with a three year old girl in hand.

You smile brightly at the child and her mom. "Hi, doc." The familiar little girl in pigtails waves shyly at you. "Hi, babe." She blushes at your usual nickname for her. This was the third time you have her over and you find her so adorable. She's so shy.

The woman your age hands you the file for them that was forwarded by the nurse. "Sorry to disturb you, doc. Areum is here to see you again." She laughs nervously as her child only bows in shyness. You put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "Don't worry about it, ma'am. She's my favorite." You smile at the shy mother too. Probably where the little girl inherited it from.

Scanning the file, the child is said to have fevers. You remember too that three weeks ago, Areum came because of a fever. You take a thermometer to measure the child's temperature. "Kindly face the side, sweetie." You coo at her and she obliges in a second.

You sanitize the tympanic thermometer before putting it in her ear. While it hasn't come back with results, you ask her mother about how the child is. This happens so naturally. It was basically a routine. This was your dream.

"So since when did she have this fever?" You ask Areum's mom who was rubbing her child's back while you hold the thermometer in her ear. "Two days ago. Her immune system is really weak." She sighs sadly, looking at her kid with pitiful eyes.

You take out the beeping thermometer. Your eyes skim over Areum's temp, 39.2°. "How are you feeling then, Reummie?" You ask her while sanitizing the thermometer before putting it back.

You pick up the stethoscope around your neck. "Come here, babe." You say softly to Areum who willingly follows. You listen to her heartbeat and everything was pretty normal. The fever was the only thing bothering the child.

“Is there anything bothering you right now?” You frown a little at the little girl’s tiny grimace. 

"Headaches." She mutters under her breath. You nod at the kid's answer. "Do you have cough? Some other sickness?" You ask her again, a pen in hand to take note of what the child's answer could be.

She shakes her head at your question. "Just fever." Areum's mom smiled sadly when she answered.

"Since you've been getting on and off fevers ever since, we will just assume for now it's because of the weather. It’s been snowing hard, Areum needs to put more clothes on." You advice while jotting down the prescription for Areum after checking her heartbeat.

"Just take what I usually recommend. Also, her vitamins and diet should be more monitored, ma'am. Her water intake too." You say that without looking at her mom but you know she's nodding and listening.

Areum’s mom was exceptionally beautiful. She was an exact opposite of her but you admired her tremendously. You admired her strength and courage. It wasn’t easy to be a housewife and a very hands-on mom like her. God knows you would never do that for someone. 

Speaking of that, you never truly did. Your passion for medicine and science was always greater. Well, you thought so.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you sign at the bottom and hand the paper to Areum's mother. "If she still has fever until the end of the week, bring her back so we can run some tests on her." You say as she nods at everything you say. You hand her the prescription and she happily takes it.

"Thank you so much, doc." She smiles at you gratefully as she stands up. "Let me walk you out." You stand up yourself too and pick up your belongings that were prepared beforehand.

You hold Areum's hand as you three walk out of your office. Passing by the nurses' table, you log yourself out of your shift and finally proceed walking with Areum to the parking lot.

You see her reserved demeanor even grow when people and patients were around. She was an exact opposite of you, you think again. You were independent, confident and hungry for your career ambitions while she bowed a little too low. Women could be insanely different but still, her choice astounded you. It takes a lot of strength to be gentle, you ponder.

"Where are you going after, doc?" Areum's mom inquired when you entered the elevator for the basement parking, stopping you from getting lost further in your thoughts. "Just home." You press Basement 1 with your free hand as Areum held the other.

"There's a boyfriend waiting then?" She asks you with a shy smile, trying to make conversation. "I don't even have time for sleep. I can't imagine having one." You laugh at her question.

Wildly, you wonder back to your earlier thought. Maybe if I didn't become a doctor, I'd be a mother like her too. But I chose my dream.

You snap out of your thoughts and ask her back. "How about you, ma'am?" The elevator pinged and opened. "My husband's just picking us up to go home." She smiles with content as if her husband was everything. You kind of wished you had that too.

Well actually, you had it. But you lost it too.

Before you could part ways with the shy kid and her even shyer mother, a black sedan pulls up in front of you.

A familiar man in a suit gets out, a face you know too well. "Appa!" You smile at Areum who was now running to the dapper man. Despite being sick, Areum was still excited to see her dad. Areum's mom walks over to the driver too and you finally look up.

You lost your breath the moment you recognized his face. It was him. The reason why you had asked such questions to Minseok. His face alone brought you the memory.

(flashback)

You wanted to bang your head against the desk as you skim over the Macleod's Clinical Examination for the nth time today. Nothing was going your way today. Med school was stressing you out, giving you a maximum of 9-hour sleep a week.

You hear some noise from your living room. You decide to take a study break and finally head out of your study. You haven't seen your boyfriend for a week despite living in the same apartment.

Despite his schedule being loose as a freelancer, your med studies were enough to stop the two of you from seeing one another.

You turn the doorknob and see a surprising scene in front of you. "W-What is this?" Your voice broke at the sight of Baekhyun and his luggage. His eyes were red and framed with dark circles. He looked sad and tired.

"I'm moving out." He states the obvious, sitting down on the sofa with a troubled face. "Why?" Your voice cracked again as it sounded so much like desperation and shock.

"You don't even have time for me." He mutters softly, obviously trying to stay calm. You were shocked at what he said. He loved you the most, he supported you the most. How could he not understand that this was your dream? How could he not understand that this isn’t forever? How could he demand so fucking much?

You fall to your knees weakly as tears in your eyes threatened to spill. "It's not your fault. I'm not even forcing you to choose me, Y/N. B-But, I can't live like this. Not anymore." He huffs out as if it was a burden he had carried ever since.

"I know it's not my fault, Baek! Hell, you're making me feel bad for chasing my dream!" You cry in hopelessness. "I'm sorry." He whispers, meters away from you.

Tears have finally made way to your face as internal pain enveloped your being. "It's just that- I can't be with someone who doesn't have time." He tries to say it again as if it's gonna make things better.

"Is it really going to be worth it? Us breaking up over this?" You didn't want to beg but God knows you've spent half your life with this man, dreaming of spending the rest of it with him. Was he really not for you? 7 years just going down the drain because you didn't have enough time?

"Am I not enough, Baekhyun?" You ask once again when he falls silent, his face in his hands. "Am I not a reason enough for you to stay?" You were disgusted at how you were on your knees, begging a man to stay.

His face was filled with sorrow as his eyes avoid meeting yours. You suddenly remember that he was the same boy who loved you unconditionally with endless patience seven years ago.

"Byun Baekhyun, I have loved you ever since I saw you that day when you laughed out loud in front of the class while introducing yourself in fifth grade." You recall an image of the boy you have loved ever since. "Tell me, don't I love you enough?" Your lips were trembling.

"I'm sorry." Baek mutters again, making you cringe at his words. "Stop apologizing, for fuck's sake, Baekhyun! I’m asking you! Am I not fucking enough?" You explode in anger, tears and pain.

"Seven years..." You whisper to the air. It felt like it was just yesterday when you two were in high-school and in love. How did it end like this? How did it end just because of time. How could he not understand? "Don't you want me to reach my dreams?" You ask him again, tears streaming down your face.

He closes his eyes shut as tears started racing down his face too. It was at that moment you realized that you weren't the only one in pain. He was too.

Like how you are breaking right now, he had suffered in silence too. He saw how consumed you were, thinking he was no longer important in your life. He saw how this relationship made it hard for you to concentrate too. He saw how he slowly faded in your ‘dream’.

But still, it broke you knowing that you hurt him this bad. It broke you knowing that the pain was too much, he had to disappear.

Your world crumbled in front of you as he stood there in pain, determined to leave. He was your first love. He was your everything. How could something so beautiful end like this?

"I'm not forcing you to choose me, Y/N." He says painstakingly, sorrow and loneliness in his voice. The aching pain in his heart was now double as he sees you on your knees.

"Will you be happy?" You ask the love of your life as he held his things in his arms. He only nodded with gritted teeth, knowing it’d be hard for him too.

That was it. The sign you needed. You were gonna let him go. You loved him too much, you couldn't imagine letting him suffer even more. You would always wish for his happiness. So you take a deep breath and nod back at him too.

For the last time, he speaks to you. "I'm not forcing you to choose me because I'm holding you back. So reach your dreams, Y/N. Reach it without me, doc." He stands up and finally departing for good, leaving you broken and your questions unanswered.

Today's Byun Baekhyun looked no day older than he did the moment he left the apartment you two shared. The supposed life you two were going to have.

"This is Dr. Y/L/N, she's Areum's doctor." Areum's mom happily links his arm with Baekhyun, snapping you out of your momentary flashback. A soft 'oh' falls from his lips as a lump forms in your throat in silence.

You couldn't breathe. Your world stops like it just did six years ago while you were on your knees and on the floor of the same shared apartment. You weren't over him at all. Moving on meant completely being fine. But despite six years flying out the window since he left, he still had that effect on you. He still left you breathless like he did in fifth grade with his hearty laugh.

"You made it, doc." He gives you the same smile he had way back when he confessed that he had a crush on you in seventh grade. Your lungs constrict at the nickname and you couldn't say a word.

His eyes shone with adoration and love that was once for you. "Yeobo, do you know her? She's a very good doctor." Areum's mother cheered, her daughter nodding in agreement too.

You see him pick Areum up in his arms. Now, the little kid resembled him a lot. It made sense, you know. He was now with a girl who could only see him in the future. He was with a woman who loved him enough to give up on her career. How could you not notice?

"Appa, I'm hungry." Areum murmured against her father's shoulders. Baekhyun rubs his daughter’s back as Areum’s mom places a chaste kiss on her husband’s lips. Tears pooled in your eyes as a familiar pain spreads in your chest. 

"I-I better get going." You stammered, feeling abandoned all over again. You knew you were going to cry if you stayed one more second with them.

He had moved on. He had a family. While you, on the other hand, are still stuck over something that happened years ago.

"Do you know her? Is she okay?" You can hear Areum's mother pry to her husband once again. Husband, your heart ached at that thought.

Before you were out of earshot, you hear Baekhyun's answer to his wife's question that makes you want to run back home and cry. Everything finally made sense. You weren't happy despite reaching your dream. It wasn’t complete. You still pondered over moving on. You still wondered how he was. But right in this moment, you realize it.

"Just an old friend, yeobo." No, Baekhyun, you were my dream too.