#in truth this could have been any of them

[bee-whistler]

I understand that he later regretted the film, once the truth about the Holocaust was known. I hope he died understanding that there was nothing to regret.

The humor in the movie was either centered around the barber’s complete unawareness of the atrocities that had been taking place (he’d been hospitalized since WWI head trauma and had finally recovered and been released) or were direct and savage mockeries of the dictators and their lackeys.

The way the Nazis were portrayed (in this case though, the swastika and the name of their party was The Double Cross, lol, as seen on his armband) was very much in line with what would have been seen in the cities at that time. There’s a brief view of a prison camp that was of course far nicer than the reality, but the rest is actually not bad.

Fact is, if you look at this film and think that his interpretation was far less brutal than the truth, it only damns the Nazis more. Even with the humorous aspects, this film portrays a level of cruelty and injustice that is already so starkly and obviously wrong to the eyes of any decent and civilized society that you’d wonder how it isn’t in fact exaggerating the truth.

To then find out that it’s almost the child-friendly version of what really happened should be enough to tell you that Nazis were the darkest and lowest of humanity. Fascism is thuggery, cruelty, hate and cold blooded murder, portraying human beings as disposable and harmful in order to gain power and wealth and control over masses who have been convinced that there is an enemy in every man, woman and little child of another group of living, breathing human beings. Fascism tells you that only it can protect you, that the sacrifice of freedom to their authority is in fact a choice you made to protect the people, land and principles that you love. Fascism is a large and elaborate con game.

The principles I most love include liberty for all, humanity for all. And I love this movie so much, for the humor, the innocence, the sharp wit and unrestrained ridicule of those dictators for what they really were… petty conmen who figured out the right dog whistles to control countries. They weren’t great, weren’t special… just convincing, morally bankrupt liars who happened to be at the right place at the right time.

And that’s something we’re seeing a lot of today. Here’s hoping that the inherent resistance of the American spirit to kings and monarchs will be enough to keep them from taking total control, because clearly more than half the country is slow to learn. After all, half of all people have below average intelligence.

Sorry, I’m passionate about movies and about current events! But yeah… Chaplin created a masterpiece, and I just hope someone told him so while they could.

Because someone is on the ball, Turner Classic is playing (among other WWII films) The Great Dictator today.

If you haven't seen it, please do. It was produced by Charlie Chaplin in the late 1930s, when it became clear that the war was going to happen, and came out in 1940 after it had started. Essentially, Chaplin realized that his famous mustache was about to be usurped forever by a fascist, and that fascist was going to kill a lot more people in the future than he had already.

It's a parody, made before the worst horrors of the Nazi regime were known to the general public, so there is discomfort here (if you've seen Disney's Der Fuhrer's Face, you'll get the idea), but the movie ends with Chaplin essentially saying "fuck it, no one else seems to be speaking out about this and I'm going to use my platform to do that."

For context, this character is a Jew who has been mistaken for the dictator (for obvious mustache-related reasons), and has been sent onstage at a rally to give a speech. Instead of trying to impersonate Hitler, he says what he really thinks. And keep in mind, Chaplin was coming out of semi-retirement for this. It was the first time most people had ever heard him speak, and this is what he said:

[vvanillal]

𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ Forbidden Desires꣑ৎ 𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ

Summary- You and Harry were supposed to be ‘Causal’.

Warnings- Harry Potter x F!Reader, Angst, Smut, Jealous!Harry, Possessive!Harry If You Squint, Fingering, Eating Out

Word Count- 2.6k!

A/N- AHHHH ANOTHER HARRY SMUT. I loved writing this one. Also don’t mind that the reader is a Slytherin 2 fics in a row. MY REQUEST ARE OPEN

It was a secret: you and Harry. You’d both made a promise to each other not to say anything. You also made another promise: no strings attached. It was hard, truly. Especially since it had been Harry. He could have any woman he wanted, and for some reason he chose to be… something, with you.

At first, it went fine. You could even say it was the happiest you’d been in a while; sneaking around with Harry. He would do sweet things, like pass you notes in classes you shared. ‘You look beautiful today,” one had read. That day, all you did was curl your hair; you hadn’t even put makeup on. Then, it became something he would just do. You were sure people noticed in class, when you’d giggle to yourself with a little piece of paper in your hand. You’d just be walking in the hallway some days, and feel someone pull you into a darkened corner. Harry, or you, were never even sure it was ‘safe’, but you never heard any talk about it. So you kept doing it. After every class, you looked forward to feeling a hand jerk you away from the crowd. He’d push you against the cold, brick wall, pressing himself against you as close as possible. His lips would nip at your neck, trying not to leave marks. Your breath would be heavy as you tried to be as quiet as possible. “Harry, we’re going to be late,” you’d whisper. “I just need to feel you for a few more seconds,” he’d whisper back, his lips parted against your collarbone. Each time, he touched you like he hadn’t in days. Harry craved you, all day every day.

Just like you expected though, the happiness didn’t last long. Soon, it became apparent that for Harry, you couldn’t breathe in the same direction as another man. You could tell when he was mad; you could see it in the way his stare was hardened with yours, and you could feel it in the way his touch was rough enough to leave bruises. “Harry? I know you’re upset, so tell me what’s wrong,” you said one day. You watched as he slammed his books shut and shoved them into his backpack; everyone else cleared from the classroom. His leg had been bouncing the whole class, and his fist was clenched on top of the table. He clenched them so hard his knuckles had turned white. “Don’t act dense, Y/N.” You watched as he stormed out of the classroom, leaving you to dwell. That had been the first time he’d genuinely been upset. It didn’t take you long to connect the dots, realizing the pattern. He’d only act like this when he caught you socializing with another man.

This particular time though had left the two of you not talking for days. You and Neville talked a little too much at dinner, apparently. And apparently Neville fixing your hair after it was sticking up, was too much. You weren’t going to listen to Harry criticize him when he was one of your friends. Once you admitted Neville had been one of your friends, he stormed off to his bedroom. He hasn’t talked to you since, Harry.

You didn't know when Harry was going to talk to you, but by the looks of it, he hadn't planned to. You watched him from the end of the Slytherin table as he flirted with Ginny. Sure, he had always been flirty with other girls; because of course, you two were casual. But he hadn’t flirted like this. He was touchy, way too touchy. And he walked Ginny to every class, and you were sure you had seen them kiss. Or they were about to, you looked before you could watch the rest.

The truth was, Harry wasn’t casual to you. You had feelings for him, real feelings. Countless nights you had cried over his hurtful actions, and then the next day he was sweet. It was a never ending cycle. It wasn’t like you could talk to people about it; you truly kept the secret, not even telling your best friend. You could never bring yourself to tell Harry how you felt, because you were sure he didn’t feel the same. You were sure he just thought of you as casual.

It had been exactly a week, today, since you and Harry had spoken. And you are certain now that he didn’t give a shit about you anymore. It was going to be hard, going to watch the Quidditch match later, and acting like you didn’t support him. Harry knew before whose side you were on, whether or not you were in a different house or not. But that’s what you did; you went to the Quidditch match and pretended you loved that Gryffindor was losing.

The match was intense. It had always been this way for Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor, but today was just different. Harry wasn’t playing like he normally would. He seemed slower on his broom, and he still hadn’t caught the snitch. You couldn’t stop watching him, because every once in a while, his eyes would meet with yours in the stands. The match halfway over, and still neither of the seekers had caught the snitch. But then, Harry spotted it, and he was after it. The opposing seeker was right on his tail though, following him intently. Harry reached out and tried to grab the snitch, but he missed. The Slytherin seeker took a shortcut, suddenly, and cut off Harry. Apparently Harry wasn’t watching very well though, because they bumped into each other. And apparently he wasn’t holding on very well either, because he’d fallen from his broom. The Slytherin seeker smirked, and was off after the snitch once more. You let your hand cover your mouth, listening to the eruptions of whispers around you. You stood on your tippy toes to see Harry sitting on the ground, his hand covering the right side of his forehead. He was okay. He’d just gotten a cut it looked like. You couldn’t resist going to check on him though, even if it was just a little cut. You saw him get up from the sandy ground, and found yourself pushing between people. “Excuse me, sorry- Excuse me,” you said as you made your way across the stands, watching Harry go back into the Gryffindor locker loom. The game looked to be resuming though.

You looked behind you to make sure no one was following you into the locker room, and you saw Harry sitting on the bench with a paper towel against his cut. He looked up, seeing who walked in, and his eyes softened for a split second at the sight of a worried you, and then turned into a glare. It was beginning to be a classic for him. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here, Y/N,” your name was like poison escaping from his lips. “Harry please, don’t act like this.” That’s all you could say, it was the only words you could find. You hadn’t even meant to come off so desperate, but you know you did. He scoffed, flipping over the towel to the clean side. The towel was soaked with blood. “Jesus Harry, let me see,” you said with concern, walking over to him quickly. He didn’t protest, lifting the towel enough for you to see. It was a nasty cut, small, but nasty. You looked around the room for anything as you saw a door with a first aid kit hanging on it. “Come here,” you said, grabbing his wrist. He stood up, but jerked his hand back. “I’m not fucking incapable of walking,” he snapped. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t.

The room was small, a little bit bigger than what’s considered to be a large pantry. Backed up against the back wall was an infirmary bed, with 2 chairs beside each end. And behind the door was a sink, with a cabinet above it. “Sit down,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit off the door, closing it and walking over to the sink. You looked through the cabinet for sterile saline to clean his wound; unmistakably feeling his eyes watching you. You found the saline, and gauze along with it. You stood between his legs, dabbing his wound with the wet gauze. He winced, and his face scrunched in pain. The pushing together of his skin only made it bleed more. “Hold pressure,” you said, and Harry did as you said. You dug through the first aid kid and found wound closing tape, exactly what you needed. You got a new gauze, wetting it with saline again.

“Harry, we can’t keep doing this,” you broke the silence, trying to get the wound to stop bleeding; “I can’t keep doing this,” you rephrased. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his eyes locked with yours. “I know you don’t give a shit anymore. It’s been obvious for a while. I wish you would just end things properly instead of giving me false hope and then continuing to fuck other girls,” your voice was shaky. This was hard. You applied the tape after his wound stopped bleeding, but you didn’t move from your spot. You only backed up to give him room; and Harry still sat on the bed. “What are you talking about, Y/N,” he raised his voice, his eyes darkening. “Oh please, don’t act like I haven’t seen you and Ginny. Don’t act like I didn’t see you kiss her in the hallway. How many more are there that I’m not seeing,” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest to comfort yourself. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, laughing mockingly. That had done it… he’s just pissed you off. “No YOU are ridiculous. We’re supposed to be casual, but I didn’t know that it came with rules. I didn’t know you would get pissed off when I breathed in another man’s direction. This is tiring Harry, truly. I can’t keep doing this and getting hurt,” you were crying now. Whenever he didn’t say anything, you shook your head, “we’re done,” you said. You turned on your heels, ready to walk out.

Just before you could get the door open, you felt Harry grab your wrist, pulling you back and against the wall. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” he said, cageing you between his body and the wall. Then, you slapped him across the face, and you didn’t know why. You hadn’t even thought about it, you just did it. “It’s your fault,” you spat. His hand came up to the side of his cheek, feeling the hotness your hand left behind. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, his hand now coming to the side of your face, letting his thumb caress your cheek. “No you’re not. This was never casual for me, Harry. I feel things for you… I have feelings for you,” you admit, raising your voice in front of a rather calm Harry. You open your mouth to say more, but he cuts you off with his lips against yours. You push him back as quickly as you could, “Don’t you dare. You’re dirty, Harry. It’s untelling how many other people you’ve kissed in the past few days,” you scream, pointing a finger at him. You were kind of being a hypocrite now. He just engulfs your hands in his. “I haven’t kissed anyone else, Y/N. I haven’t touched anyone else,” he says softly, looking at you with equally soft eyes. “Why do you keep hurting me then? And how do you explain Ginny, ” you ask, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I just can’t stand to see you even talking to another guy. I feel nothing for Ginny. I swear it was only to make you jealous. I have feelings for you too, Y/N. Can’t you see that?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You couldn’t even think at that point. You grab his face roughly, smashing your lips against his. He returns the energy, instantly deepening the kiss by squeezing your waist. You feel for the doorknob, locking it. “I’m so sorry,” he said between kisses. “Shut up,” you moan.

He lets his hand slip onto your back, guiding you to the infirmary bed, his lips never leaving yours. Your ass hits the back of the bed, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth. “Let me repay you,” he says, breaking the kiss just to begin kissing your neck. You moan at his words, “how?” He drops to his knees, looking up at you with big eyes full of desire. You get the message, quickly pulling down your skirt. He groans at the sight of your red, lace panties, “you’re still so perfect,” he whispers. His eyes just looked hungry now.

You throw your leg over his shoulder, letting your thigh rest on the space. You tangle your hands in his hair as he presses a kiss to your clothed clit. “I missed you so much,” you say, lips parting at the sight of him looking up at you. He moves your lace to the side, his wet mouth coming in contact with your clit. You shiver at the coldness, pulling at the strands of his hair, producing a groan from him. The vibrations went straight to your core, causing you to whimper in delight.

This wasn’t the first time he ate you out, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. He loved doing it, and every time he did, he ate you out like it was his last meal. He loved watching your face twist in pleasure, and hearing the sweet sounds leave your lips. It was no different this time.

His tongue worked against your sensitive bud; even more sensitive now from getting nothing for a week. You nearly scream when you feel two of his fingers push past your entrance. “Fuck Harry, just like that,” you whine. Your legs were beginning to become weak from the pleasure. You look down at him and find him watching you, observing the pleasure he was giving you. He curled his fingers in your cunt, and you had to cover your mouth. You feared the people all the way outside, in the stands, would hear you. You bring your free hand up and begin touching your clothed nipples. Harry moaned against your clit at the sight.

“I’m so close, Harry,” you moan, not caring how loud you were being now. He inserted another finger in you, and curled his fingers once more, pushing them in and out. He felt for your sweet spot, until he found it. “Shit,” you moan, throwing your head back. You didn’t know whether to focus on the feeling of his tongue flicking sweetly against your clit, or the feeling of his fingers pulsing into you. Either way, you were close. He knew this already, you didn’t have to tell him. He could feel you clench around his fingers. “I’m gonna-” you came before you could even finish your sentence. “Fuck,” you groan, the feeling of your orgasm overtaking your body. Your legs shook weakly.

After the feeling of your orgasm subsided, you freed your leg from his shoulder, and he stood up, helping you put on your skirt. “Am I forgiven,” he said, a smirk on his face as he licked you off of his fingers. You watch him, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m going to do better,” he said, pulling you closer to him. “You’re forgiven,” you said, smiling. The sound of celebrating Gryffindors could be heard coming into the locker room. Apparently they had made a comeback. How were you going to explain why Harry’s hair was messed up, and why both of you were red, and why you had taken so long for such a small cut, and most importantly why you were in the locker room.

[foli-vora]

run to you: chapter eight

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: it's here. Finally. Don't look at me. Can't believe we only have 4 chapters to go after this one! I have such a deep fond love for this little universe and I'm so damn thankful for all of your comments, reblogs and asks! Your kind words make my bloody year! Hope you enjoy angels x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and ‘You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: 4.7k-ish

Warnings: angsttttt, swearing, general heartache and bittersweet goodbyes, a break in, these two make me want to listen to a heartbreak playlist all day and just cry

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

The words play in your mind as you make a beeline to the public bathrooms, a relentless cycle over and over and over. Your conversation with the consultant had been mind achingly frustrating, and yet, despite knowing his little tricks and various mental hoops he gets his chosen victims to jump through, you can’t help it—you give in.

You find yourself jumping through those damn hoops, letting his words drive you borderline insane.

Jane has it all wrong—so wrong—so why can’t you stop thinking about what he said? What would give him the impression that Marcus has feelings for you? Feelings that extend beyond the expected responsibility of a leading agent, and mere guilt lingering from their shared history.

Does he see something you can’t? Has he heard something? Found something?

The bitter tang of resentment builds in the back of your throat as your mind goes down more paths, creating more questions with no answers in sight. This is what he wants.

Jane wants you to be overwhelmed with questions and what ifs and a desperation for the truth, so you’ll go to him for the answers. So he can spin words, play and pick your brain some more. It’s a cycle, one that obviously works well for him. This is how he plays, and it’s vicious and cruel, and—

—and yet you still let his words confuse you, still mull over them in your head.

You keep fucking falling for it. 

Your hands shake as they deposit your bag beside the sink, the cold water splashing over your skin doing nothing to divert your thoughts or distract you.

Of course there are no feelings anywhere.

Maybe this is just a ploy to hurt or embarrass Marcus—surely there’d be some bad energy there, given the history between them both. Maybe Jane’s not finding enough entertainment within the investigation and is instead making his own.

You don’t know. What you do know is that you refuse to waste one more fucking second wondering what is going on in that man’s head, and what his ploy is.

It hits you as you stare back at your reflection in the mirror, the obvious internal war written across your face with creases of stress and watery eyes—you can’t do this. You’re not cut out for this rollercoaster of drama. You’ve had enough. 

Jane, the case, Marcus, the FBI—you’ve had enough of all of it. You’ve done enough, and Marcus has always said to tell him when you decide you’re done. He’s always said that you’re under no obligation to do anything you don’t want to do, that you could back out at any point. Or maybe that was just another lie.

The bitter part of you churns to life, still angry, still holding onto the aching resentment from the past. Vicious thoughts and memories tainted by heartbreak flood your mind, but it doesn’t seem to cut as deep as it usually would. He didn’t lie about that. 

He said you were in control, he gave you his word—and you took it. You trust it.

Would he be disappointed?

You did tell him that you’d help, that you’d do what the FBI asked of you and get them the information they need, but at what cost? Your mental health was already taking hits, an array of emotions continuously assaulting you from merely being around Marcus again, let alone being bombarded and interrogated by some wanna-be mentalist freak from California.

No. He’d understand.

You dry up, blotting the paper towel across your throat and willing your heart to slow down as you look over your frame in the reflection. The wire’s still perfectly hidden, tucked deeply away under your jacket from where Marcus had pinned it, but the mere thought of it sitting there has a cold dread creeping along your veins.

That whole conversation with Jane had been recorded.

Marcus is going to listen to it. His team is going to listen to it. You can’t deal with the fallout of that. You can’t be humiliated like that. What would he do? What would he say?

Though of course you know the truth and that the idea of Marcus having any type of romantic inclination towards you is fucking ridiculous, you’re still not exactly fond of the idea of sitting there and listening to him explain why he does not, and would not, ever have feelings for you.

Maybe—maybe you could get ahead of it.

Surely if you just tell him, ask him, that the recording be discarded as you’re backing out. There’s nothing on there, there’s no need for it. Just delete it, forget about it and move on. 

You grab your things and leave the safety of the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline as you begin to make your way towards the exit, but then you see him. He’s a good distance away from the path you’re taking, and you wouldn’t have noticed him at all if you weren’t suddenly highly aware of every person milling about the building.

Edward Thomas.

Someone who had played a big part in your life before everything went to shit. He’d been involved with some of your replicas, their creations and the deals around them once they were complete. You weren’t aware of his exact place in all of it, but you know damn well it was much higher on the food chain than you.

He looks the same, despite everything. Did nothing happen to him when it all fell apart? Was he not arrested along with everyone else?

Probably not. He had money—serious money. He had connections. He had the network you had ensured to keep out of. Perhaps you would’ve been better following his footsteps, kissing asses and sucking up to the underground elites of the world, making more of a name for yourself behind closed doors. You would've been untouchable, invincible. 

Where would you be now? Back in your penthouse, mostly unscathed and living life as normal.

There’s no use dwelling on it. It’s a can of worms you could continue to open and close for the rest of your life, wondering what if until it drove you mad.

Doing what Edward Thomas did, does—it’s not you. It wasn’t you back then, and it wouldn’t be you now. You just wanted to paint, you weren’t in it for the money. Although, admittedly, it did help.

You want to move towards him, to hover in the background beyond the group of smartly dressed people surrounding him, enough for him to see you, to peak his interest. This could be what Marcus, the FBI, needs. This could, potentially, help the investigation, if he is still doing dealings under the table. 

But then what? You’d be stuck having to go further. There’d be no backing out. There’d be more drama, more headaches, more mind games, more lies. You can’t do it.

This has developed into something you don’t think you have the nerve for. The idea of it all seemed so easy when Marcus came to you, but the reality of it? You don’t have the mentality for it all. You’re not an agent. You’re not trained for this. You don’t have people behind you, covering for you and protecting you.

You turn away.

Rigsby lingers by the bathroom you had exited from, nose in a pamphlet showcasing the must sees of the museum, but his eyes flick to you as if to check on your movements. You swallow, give a barely there shake of your head and then continue on your way out, leaving him to alert Marcus that you had left.

—

You’re only a mere few feet away, but he can feel the distance that now stretches in between you. Distance that could never be removed or forgotten. The thick sheen of glass hides him from your gaze, but that doesn’t stop him from flinching when your eyes glance at the mirror upon entry.

He’s a coward. A fucking coward. He intentionally sat out on the move today, refused to be a part of the team bringing you in, all because he was scared of seeing your face and the look of betrayal in your eyes. Shit, he’s still scared now. Maybe that;s why he stays behind the glass, refusing to be a part of the interrogation.

You’re holding on so fucking strong, he’s damn near proud.

Jenner throws everything at you. He does all that he can, but when you don’t budge, he throws an apologetic glance towards the mirror that you thankfully don’t catch. It’s time to pull out the ace card, to let you know they had more on you than you think, and it makes him fucking sick.

He can’t move.

You’re confused when you hear the mention of his name, his real name, and why wouldn’t you be? You have no idea who he is, who he really is.

Sweat slicks his palm as he pulls at the door to the interrogation room, builds on the back of his neck under the crisp collar of his shirt as he takes a seat. He can’t look at you. He can’t look at you because he’s a piece of shit coward, unable to confront all the shit he’s done.

Bile stings at his throat.

It takes every fucking bit of him to keep it together.

The file is heavy in his hand as he slides it across the table before he finally manages to meet your gaze. It cuts him to the very core. He feels the hit of it deep in his chest. His jaw starts to ache from the pressure of keeping his teeth clenched tightly together, forcefully swallowing down every flicker of pain and guilt and self fucking loathing until he’s nothing but a blank slate.

Tears start to build rapidly in your eyes and he knows then and there that he’ll never forget that look of pure and utter heartbreak creasing your face. The face he had stroked so softly, kissed so lovingly.

“Special Agent Pike,” you rasp softly, almost choking on the words.

It’s a viciously harsh blow to the system and he falters almost immediately.

I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry—

You don’t look at him anymore, and he’s almost glad for it. You’d see how he starts to crumble, how his tongue darts out to wet his lips in a panic and how Jenner makes a small gesture for him to take a deep breath and cool it before he says something that’ll end him in deep shit.

“I want a lawyer.”

—

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. Any of it.”

He seems to be expecting the words, taking them in with nothing but a small reassuring smile and a simple, “Okay.”

Honestly, you were expecting a little more. Maybe a few questions fired as to why you couldn’t do it when you seemed so intent on following through with it all originally, but when he says nothing else, you deflate. You wet your lips, wondering if there’s some sort of catch, but Marcus remains silent, watching the flutter of emotions pass over your face.

“That’s it?”

“When I told you that you’re in control of this, I meant it. If you’re done, then you’re done.”

Hearing him confirm it brings such a sweet relief to your mind, you can practically feel the weight of it all start to seep from your shoulders, but despite that guilt still sits in the pit of your stomach, uncomfortable and relentless. It falls from your mouth before you can even think to stop it—

“I’m sorry. I thought—I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would feel different, or be easier than it actually is. I think I’m just… tired. Of everything. I want—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he cuts in quietly, giving a small reassuring smile when you glance at him. “We asked a lot of you, and I understand that. It’s okay—really.”

Your conversation with Jane plays back through your mind, almost tauntingly. A small part of you wants to tell Marcus about it, he should know Jane’s off parading about on his own path without a care for the plans or rules or whatever it is that gets set in place during an investigation, but then what?

He’d want to know what he said, and you don’t have it in you to look him in the eyes and tell him. You don’t want to open yourself up to that embarrassment. Of course what Jane said is all bullshit, it’s ridiculous to even think about yourself, but to have Marcus bluntly tell you so would be a bit of a slap across the face.

“The recording,” you start with the creepings of hesitation, tongue rolling along your lips in an effort to bring the words out smoother, “what happens to it?”

 A flutter of a frown creases his brows as he eyes you from across your kitchen before he gives a noncommittal shrug, finding no harm in your curiosity.

“It gets put in with the rest of the evidence.”

“Even if there’s nothing on it?”

“It would need to be cleared by an agent first, but if there’s nothing of use on it then it just gets discarded.”

“If—if I asked you to delete it now, without listening to it, is that… would you?”

The frown immediately deepens.

He seems to stand straighter, something seeping into his expression as your question lingers in the air, and you watch, waiting for the suspicion that doesn’t seem to come. He just seems concerned, whether on your behalf or his investigation you don’t know. He doesn’t seem to know that Jane had jumped on you at the museum, surely that would’ve been something he would address immediately upon seeing you after the last time,  so you’re positive he’s unaware of what’s on it.

“I—” he stops, tongue running along his lips, “I can’t risk the case—”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you. There’s nothing worthwhile on it, but if I wanted you to forget about it and delete it, would you?”

Would you trust me?

It goes unspoken, but it lingers behind your words. Despite the anxiety churning in your stomach and the panic building in your chest from how he’ll take your request and what he’ll think of it, you’re curious. He has no reason to trust you whatsoever, especially given your history, but some sort of shaky foundation had been built between you over your time working with him—how far did it go?

His concern grows, and he takes a careful step towards you. “Has something happened?”

Should you tell him? No. Just be done with it all.

“Just answer the question.”

“What happened?”

“Marcus.”

The frown remains steady between his brows, his eyes unwavering as they focus on yours and study your features, but eventually, after a few moments of searching your expression, he gives a small careful nod. You can’t help but recoil slightly in surprise, not expecting the answer. You don’t even know what you were expecting.

Your first response is to call him out, because surely he wouldn’t, but as you watch him and the way he starts to shift almost nervously, you start to believe him.

“You would?” You question softly, brows pulling together. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to.”

That’s it? That’s all it would take?

He swallows, eyes falling to the floor as his hands find his hips. “Are—are you asking me to?”

“Maybe.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“No.”

It’s not an answer he wants, but he seems to accept it. His frown stays on you, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as he attempts to work out whatever you may be thinking. You see the conflict play across his face, the urge to push for more answers, the want to understand.

Something seems to click behind his eyes and you don’t know what to brace for in the seconds that follow. Anger? Accusations? 

He strides towards the kitchen counter, takes the little device in hand and holds a small button along the side until it gives a small beep followed by a clear confirmation of ‘recording deleted’. It’s over and done with within the span of thirty seconds and you’re left reeling.

Holy shit. He did it. You stare, wide eyed as he tosses it back down and runs a hand over his mouth, before turning and pacing the small width of your apartment. 

You watch him go.

There was nothing on it other than your little spat with Jane, but he didn’t know that. You could be hiding anything. You could’ve turned on him, evaded Rigsby’s watchful eye, found someone in your old circle and told them everything you and the FBI have been doing. Anything could’ve been on it, and yet he listened to you.

He trusted you.

“You could’ve just deleted evidence,” you breathe, still stuck in disbelief.

He knows it wasn’t. He fully believes you would never ask that of him, but at that very moment, he couldn’t have cared less if it was evidence. He would’ve dealt with it, like before. Technology isn’t always reliable, and issues almost always arise during cases with something tech-related. No one would know. No one would need to know.

“Yes,” he states plainly, and you’re so perplexed by the word and how he seemingly shrugs off his actions that you need to take another moment to process it.

“Just like that.”

He finally stops pacing, turning to face you fully.

“Just like that,” he echoes quietly.

This was a bad idea.

Not just the erasure of potential evidence and his apparent nonchalance regarding it and the risk to the position he had gruellingly earned over the years, but the whole thing.

The whole fucking thing.

He should never have bought you into this. He should never have knocked on your door. He’s right back to where he was back then, stuck and doing some very questionable shit he would easily lose his job over all because he’s an idiot.

You don’t hide away from his gaze, and he doesn’t shy away from yours. You’re still trying to work out his thought process, the logic behind his actions, and you keep coming up with nothing. There’s no reason why he would do something like this, for a nobody like you. There’s no motivation, no need on his side to do as you ask and blindly delete shit without questioning it further…  unless—

Unless, what Jane said holds some merit.

Why else would he do it?

No.

Maybe he’s just doing it as a favour, to try and make up for all of the shit he put you through. That makes more sense than him having feelings for you. He hasn’t been around you enough to justify any sort of feelings—he doesn’t know you. Or is he carrying them from your previous relationship? But it’s been ages since you were together, and that was all fake back then. There was nothing real there, it was all a lie. 

The headache is coming back.

You exhale slowly through your lips, eyes falling away from him and to the simple black device once more. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You don’t need to know any more. It’s all done. It’s over, and you can finally get back to your quiet little normal life. You can move on.

“Thank you.” And you mean it.

“Thank you,” he murmurs quietly, clearing his throat. “I know this must’ve been very hard for you, and we appreciate all of the hard work you’ve put into this investigation. I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” you half smile, the pull of it natural.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he huffs softly in amusement, slowly coming closer to pick up the device from the counter and tuck it away into his pocket. 

“I mean, I wasn’t thrilled to begin with, but… it turned out okay.”

He smiles fully, and it hits just like it used to. You don’t look away. There’s no harm in taking it all in one last time. You won’t see him after this. You didn’t know last time, before it all fell apart. You didn’t get a chance to enjoy all of the little things you liked. You didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

“Well, I’ll—I’ll leave you to it. Thank you again. There might be some final paperwork, but I’ll post it out.”

You nod as you follow him slowly to your door, tucking your cardigan around you and crossing your arms tightly across your chest. You ache. Somewhere deep inside your chest twists, and your throat starts to tighten. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking when you call out to him before he can reach for the door, and you’re left with nothing to say when he pauses and turns to you.

There’s nothing to say. He doesn’t bother filling the silence. You stand there, eyes roaming his face in an effort to picture him as he was back then, when he was Alex. He lets you. There’s something there, something hanging in the stillness surrounding you both because you can feel it start to tug and twist at your insides.

Finality.

This is goodbye—a proper one.

It’s not Marcus you want to say goodbye to.

Slowly, deliberately, you step into him and he doesn’t move a muscle. He stills under the hand you steady yourself with on his arm, breath all but hardening in his lungs when your face nears his own.

Your lips press ever so softly to his cheek, only mere millimetres from the corner of his lips, and the shaky little exhale he lets out confirms it all for you.

Jane was right, but you have no idea just how much. He was in deeper than you could have possibly ever imagined. Everything was still there, simmering right under the surface and threatening to be his entire undoing. He doesn’t speak, can’t speak, for fear of saying the wrong thing and fucking this last little moment up.

He relishes in it, in the one final tender touch of your lips that sends his pulse to a heavy hammer beneath his skin. It kills him, destroys him, but he takes it willingly with an open heart. The final punishment to close the last chapter of your story.

His eyes are closed when you pull away, but they soon flutter open to meet yours, and they swim with all the apologies and guilt he doesn’t let himself say anymore. You’re thankful for it, you don’t want to hear it. Not now. Your lips tingle, and a warmth spreads along the skin of your cheeks. 

“Bye Scribbles,” he rumbles finally, and you swear there’s a slight shine of tears in his eyes.

They mirror the ones suddenly building in yours.

Goodbye Alex.

“Goodbye Marcus,” you return softly, and then he’s gone.

—

He wants to tell you to run.

The words sit on his tongue: a beg for forgiveness, a plea to just get on the first plane out of the fucking country and disappear, and he damn near draws blood to stop himself.

Though he tidied up as much as he could, ensured there were appropriate plea deals in place and a chance for you to get out of this better than the others if you cooperated, he still dreaded the next few days.

You have no idea.

No idea that your world’s essentially going to shatter and come down around you, and it’s all his fault.

Your kisses feel like a punishment. Each one threatens to cut through his restraint, and when you whisper those three sweet words in his ear he wants to vomit.

He wants to tell you everything. He wants to explain that this fake persona you had given yourself to so fully was still him—it was all him, just under a different name. 

He doesn’t.

He lets the guilt eat away at him, lets the heartache practically tear him apart from the inside out until he feels raw. There’d be no salvaging this. There’d be no walking away from this with you still on his side, and rightly so. This will fucking break you, and he’ll carry that for the rest of his life.

He sits up long after you fall asleep, studying each dip and curve of your face and committing it all to memory. He traces over your skin, attempts to smile when you sleepily wake from his touch and hides the presence of his tears by scooping you into his arms for the last time. 

—

It’s surprisingly easy to return to life as it was before he knocked on your door. A weight had been lifted free from your shoulders, a promise of new beginnings born from finally gaining closure. Was it what you expected? No, but it was no less welcome. 

You managed to get your old job back at the diner, and spent days sketching aimlessly in the park.

It was normal, until it suddenly wasn’t.

The door’s pried open when you return from a late night shift, the obvious signs of a forced entry with the wooden edges of the door chipped and the frame split from pressure. Your hand shakes as you push it open, stomach turning as it gives way to the utter chaos that is your little apartment. Your home.

Your things are everywhere, drawers are opened and the contents spilled out onto the floor, furniture upturned and tossed carelessly to the side. Someone had been looking for something, but you know you have nothing of worth. Not anymore. They wouldn’t have walked away with anything of significance but still, there’s a bitter sting of loss, of intrusion that seems to rattle you to the core.

Heart beating heavily in your throat, you carefully step over the mess and further into your small apartment, and beyond the thunder of your pulse you hear nothing else out of the ordinary. Whoever had been here was long gone, leaving nothing but destruction and questions in their wake. Who the hell did this?

He’s the first and only person that comes to the forefront of your mind, and when you shakily reach for your phone and find his name still saved in your small list of contacts, he answers after the second ring despite it being so late. You almost feel guilty for bothering him, but something about the way he seems so immediately concerned placates any doubt.

“Hi, I—I’m sorry, I don’t… someone broke into my apartment—”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement on his end that crackles down the phone. 

“Get out of there,” Marcus demands, before you can even finish working out the right words to say.

He doesn’t tell you to call the cops, he doesn’t tell you it’s not his problem and that you’re on your own now. You feel a slight wave of relief, but facing the disaster of your apartment has a wave of vulnerability hitting you and your eyes start to burn. 

“There’s no one here,” you mumble around the sudden dryness of your throat, “they’re gone. Can you—”

“I’m on my way. Listen to me, I need you out of there, do you understand? Do not touch anything, leave everything as it is.”

You nod, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see it, and step back out into the quiet corridor of your floor.

There’s no one around.

Your skin prickles with worry, your nerves working into overdrive to stay vigilant. Every quiet shuffle and bump beyond the walls of neighbouring apartments rattles your senses, and the hand holding your phone starts to shake. He must sense your panic, hear the way your breathing starts to pick up as your chest starts to tighten.

“It’s okay, I’m coming. Stay on the phone with me.”

“Okay,” you exhale as a tear tracks down your cheek, leaving a cool trail in its wake.

Maybe this is an overreaction. Maybe it’s just some random burglary, someone out to get a quick bit of cash for whatever they need, or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s not all over as you had hoped. Has someone found you? Do they know who you are? Do they know what you did?

You feel sick.

Your voice catches in your throat, “Marcus—”

“I know. I’m coming.”

[aeralux]

"I'd Rather Be With You (Too)" - Lucerys Velaryon

Modern!Lucerys Velaryon x Reader (part one here)

Summary: "People have a way of leaving. Best to not let anyone close." This is the saying Lucerys lived his whole life by. Keeping others at a distance even if it hurts both him and others. Why should you be the exception? It seems you might be the exception.

Warnings: SMUT 18+; sad boy Lucerys; oral (f! receiving); fingering; soft sex; angst; creampie; fluff; blowjob; a certain blonde getting knocked out; smoking

Words: 15k

Notes: No description of the reader. It came out long but it's literally full of them interacting idk (again). I am not responsible for the media you consume. 7k words of angst and Lucerys finally expressing himself, then 8k words of smut. Enjoy

Lucerys stood at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the sea, his hood pulled up against the misty rain. The salty breeze whipped at his cheeks as he stared at the horizon, watching the sun slowly rise over the watery expanse. His heart felt heavy in his chest, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a physical burden.

He knew leaving you had been selfish, but he couldn't bear the thought of watching you walk away eventually. It was better to cut ties before he lost himself entirely in the depths of his growing feelings for you.

As the sun climbed higher, casting a golden glow across the waves, Lucerys turned away from the sea. He walked slowly back towards home, his footsteps heavy and leaden. He knew he'd have to face you eventually, to explain himself.

But for now, he couldn't bring himself to go back, to see the confusion and hurt that would surely be etched across your lovely face.

There was Jacaerys, already out, pushing the lawnmower back and forth across the thick green grass. The family dogs raced around the yard, barking loudly as if they were excited for the day ahead. Jacaerys caught a glimpse of his brother from the corner of his eye. At first, a scowl formed on his face, but it quickly transformed into a look of concern when he noticed the troubled expression on his younger brother's face.

"Hey man, what happened? Where were you all night? Mum was worried sick," he asked, stepping forward and placing his hands gently on Lucerys’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. Although he was older, Lucerys had already grown taller, which made the interaction feel a little awkward.

Lucerys let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the night still resting on his shoulders. He didn’t want to dive into the details, especially not about the person who had been on his mind for hours. 

"I'm fine," he muttered, trying to brush past Jacaerys, but his brother’s raised eyebrow made him pause. Jacaerys didn’t press any further. There was something in Lucerys' eyes that told him there was more to the story, but he chose to let his younger brother have his space for now.

For days, Lucerys had been distant and withdrawn, as if a fog had settled over him. His family noticed the change, exchanging worried glances when he entered a room. His friends, usually able to draw him out, were puzzled by his silence. This new quietness felt different, heavier. He barely even spoke to his brothers, whose playful banter now seemed to echo off a wall he had built around himself, leaving everyone uneasy.

You had spent countless days searching for him, but it felt like he had completely disappeared after that stormy night, leaving you trapped in heavy silence. You felt isolated and abandoned. Glorina had noticed the change in you. She worried as she watched you eat less and spend all day cooped up inside, only to venture out to the docks at night, searching for someone who might never return.

You barely spoke to her, and each day that passed filled you with guilt, but the truth was that Lucerys had shattered something deep inside you. You needed him to come back and mend what was broken.

How could he have looked at you with such warmth? How could he have held you so closely, with a tenderness that made you believe everything would be alright? And then, just like that, he vanished, leaving nothing but unanswered questions and a growing emptiness. You felt a desperate need for him to explain, to heal your wound.

After wandering through the small town again, your heart felt heavy with each step. The familiar streets now seemed foreign and blank. But then, in the distance, you spotted a figure—brown curly hair peeking out from beneath a dark hoodie. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest as you hurried towards him. “Lucerys,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper as you got close enough for him to hear.

But as you reached him, your heart sank. Instead of Lucerys, it was his older brother standing there, wearing an unamused expression that only deepened your sense of disappointment.

You stood frozen, your breath catching in your throat as Jacaerys turned to face you. His expression softened slightly when he registered the look on your face—a mix of desperation and heartbreak you couldn’t hide.

“You’re looking for Lucerys,” he said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Do you know where he is?”

Jacaerys sighed, shaking his head as if he were deciding how much to tell you. “Look, he’s been… different lately. Distant.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You have something to do with that, don’t you?”

His question wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t kind, either. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Jacaerys frowned, stepping closer. “Listen,” he said, his voice lower now, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but Lucerys doesn’t need this right now. He’s got enough to deal with without… whatever this is.”

You felt your frustration rise, the sting of his words hitting harder than you expected. “Whatever this is?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “I care about him. I just want to talk to him—”

“To do what?” Jacaerys interrupted, his tone sharp. “To pull him in deeper? To make him care about you even more before you leave town and break his heart?”

His words struck a nerve, and you flinched, the truth you’d been avoiding suddenly laid bare. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacaerys’s gaze softened slightly, but his expression remained firm. “Then do him a favour and leave him alone.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. But before you could respond, the sound of a door slamming open behind Jacaerys cut through the tension like a knife.

“Jace!” Lucerys’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your heart lurched as Lucerys stepped outside, his green eyes blazing with fury as they flicked between you and his brother. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept, but the fire in his expression was undeniable.

Jacaerys turned to face his younger brother, his stance shifting to match Lucerys’s intensity. “I’m trying to protect you, Luke,” he said evenly.

Lucerys scoffed, stepping closer. “By what? Telling her to leave? Acting like I can’t make my own decisions?”

“She’s going to hurt you, Lucerys,” Jacaerys shot back, his voice rising.

“I’m not a child anymore!” Lucerys shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I can make my own decisions. And if I get hurt, that’s my problem—not yours!”

The rawness in his voice made your chest tighten, and you took a hesitant step forward. “Lucerys—”

He turned to you, his expression softening for just a moment before the walls went back up. “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice quieter but still tense.

“Because I needed to see you,” you said honestly, your voice trembling. “I needed to understand why you left. Why you just… disappeared.”

Lucerys ran a hand through his curls, his frustration evident. “I—” he started, then stopped, his gaze darting to Jacaerys as if trying to decide how much he could say with his brother standing there.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine,” he muttered. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

He brushed past Lucerys, throwing you a pointed look before disappearing back into the house.

For a moment, the only sound was the distant crash of waves and the faint barking of dogs from the backyard.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” Lucerys said finally, his voice barely audible. “I just… I couldn’t stay.”

You stepped closer, your hands trembling as you reached for him. “Why not?”

“Because you make me lose control,” he admitted, his green eyes locking onto yours. “And I can’t afford that. I can’t—” He broke off, shaking his head as if trying to push the words away.

“You can’t afford to feel something real?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Because that’s what this is, Lucerys. It’s real.”

He stared at you, his jaw tightening as he fought against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Real doesn’t mean it won’t fall apart,” he said bitterly. “It doesn’t mean you’ll stay.”

“Then let me decide that,” you said, stepping closer until there was almost no space between you. “Stop pushing me away because you’re scared.”

Lucerys closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything he’d been carrying had finally become too much. “I don’t know how to stop,” he whispered.

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache, and you reached out, your hand brushing lightly against his. “Then let me help you,” you said softly. “We can figure it out together.”

Lucerys opened his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the walls crumble—the fear, the longing, and the fragile hope he’d been trying so hard to hide.

But just as quickly, he pulled away, taking a step back. “I don’t know if I can,” he said quietly.

You watched him retreat, your heart breaking all over again as the distance between you grew.

Lucerys stood still, his green eyes flickering with a mix of fear and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind them, the turmoil he was trying so hard to keep contained.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp. He took a step back, putting more space between you, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Your heart clenched, but you refused to let him shut you out. “Why not? What are you so afraid of, Lucerys?”

His laugh was bitter, almost a scoff. “You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t know who I am—who my family is.”

“I know enough,” you shot back, your voice trembling. “I know you’re kind. I know you care more than you want people to believe. I know you—”

“You don’t!” he interrupted, his voice rising. His expression twisted into something close to anguish. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a Velaryon in this town. People see us, and they see trouble. They see a family of screw-ups who can’t do anything right.”

“I don’t see that,” you said firmly, your own voice cracking with the weight of your emotions.

“Maybe not now,” he said bitterly. “But you will. Everyone does.”

You stared at him, your chest aching with frustration and hurt. “Why do you care so much about what other people think? You’re not them, Lucerys.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes darting away from yours. “It’s not just what they think. It’s what’s true.” He paused, his hands clenching tighter. “Jace and I—we’ve done things. We’ve had to. My friends… they’re not exactly saints. You don’t belong anywhere near us.”

“Is this about your friends?” you asked, stepping closer despite the tension radiating from him. “Or is this about you?”

Lucerys flinched, your words hitting deeper than you’d expected. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading “They’re into things—illegal things. And I’m not—” He stopped, running a hand through his curls. “I’m not perfect either, okay? I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”

“And you think that makes you unworthy?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. “You think that makes you less deserving of someone who cares about you?”

Lucerys didn’t answer, his jaw tightening as his gaze dropped to the ground.

“I don’t care about the mistakes you’ve made,” you continued, stepping closer. “I care about you. The you who’s standing right here, right now. The you who’s scared to let someone in because you’ve been hurt before.”

“That’s not the only reason,” he muttered, his voice so low you almost missed it.

“Then tell me the real reason,” you pressed, desperation creeping into your tone. “Stop hiding behind your family and your friends and your reputation. Tell me what you’re so scared of, Lucerys.”

He finally looked up, his green eyes blazing with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m scared of harming you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m scared that if you get too close, I’ll ruin you the way I ruin everything else.”

The raw honesty in his voice left you breathless. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.

“You won’t ruin me,” you said softly, stepping closer until you were just a breath away. “You’re not the monster you think you are, Lucerys. You’re just… scared. And I get that. But you don’t have to push me away because of it.”

Lucerys stared at you, his expression a mix of longing and despair. “You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he said quietly. “You think you can just fix me, but you can’t. I’m not some… broken thing you can put back together.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you said firmly, your voice trembling. “I just want to be here for you. If you let me.”

He looked away again, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his own thoughts. “And when you realise I’m not worth it?”

You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his. “Then I’ll let you be the one to decide that,” you said softly.

Lucerys let out a shaky breath, his green eyes searching yours. For a moment, it seemed like he might let you in.

But then he shook his head, stepping back once more. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to let someone in without losing everything.”

The anguish in his voice brought tears to your eyes, but you refused to look away. “Then let me show you how,” you said, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “Let me prove that you don’t have to lose everything to have something real.”

Lucerys didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the ground. But this time, he didn’t take another step back. He stayed rooted in place, the cracks in his defences growing wider with every passing second.

And though the storm between you hadn’t yet passed, you could feel the first rays of hope breaking through the clouds.

"C'mon," Luke said, nodding towards the road, and you followed him, away from his house. He reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, the familiar red and white packaging crinkling slightly in his hand. "Smoke?" he offered, a hint of a smile on his face.

You didn't really smoke—not regularly, anyway—but something about the moment made you want to connect with him. "Sure," you replied, hoping it didn’t sound too eager. 

Without hesitation, he flicked the lighter, the flame dancing briefly before catching the tip of your cigarette. He watched as you took your first drag, his gaze lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes.

As you exhaled, the smoke curled between you, a shared breath of something unspoken. "Sorry," you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He shook his head, leaning back against the cool wall of the corner store, a casual stance that made him seem more relaxed, even charming.

"Is Jacaerys right?"

You paused...

"Yeah... I am leaving at the end of the summer..." You trailed off, inhaling the smoke again as a soft breeze ruffled your hair, carrying the scent of the city mixed with a hint of your own nervousness.

Lucerys’s relaxed posture stiffened slightly at your words. He glanced away, his jaw tightening as he took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dim light. When he exhaled, the smoke curled around him, hazy and uncertain, much like the emotions swirling between you.

“So that’s it, then,” he said, his voice low but edged with bitterness. “You’re just gonna leave. Like everyone else.”

His words hit you harder than you’d expected. You blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “Lucerys, it’s not like that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling.

“Isn’t it?” He turned to face you fully, his green eyes blazing with something raw and unfiltered. “You say it’s not, but that’s exactly what’s happening, isn’t it? You’ll leave, and I’ll still be here, stuck in this place.”

“That doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real,” you said, your voice cracking under the weight of his accusation. “Just because I have to leave doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “That’s what they all say,” he muttered. “They all say they care, that it’s real. And then they leave. Every damn time.”

“I’m not them!” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “I’m not your dad, or your friends, or whoever else left you behind. I’m here now, Lucerys.”

“Yeah, now,” he snapped, his voice rising. “But not later. Not when it matters.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, the tension thick enough to cut. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear he was trying so hard to mask with anger.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to be another person who lets you down. But I don’t know how to change what’s happening. I can’t just… stay.”

“Then don’t pretend this means anything,” he said harshly, his voice breaking at the edges.

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than he probably intended. “It does mean something,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “It means everything to me.”

Lucerys looked at you then, his green eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. For a moment, the fire in his gaze softened, replaced by something far more fragile.

“But you’re still leaving,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “I don’t want to. But I don’t have a choice.”

He let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through his curls. “There’s always a choice,” he murmured, though he didn’t sound like he believed it.

The silence between you was deafening, the words you both wanted to say hanging in the air, unspoken. Finally, Lucerys turned away, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his emotions.

“Go ahead and say it,” he muttered, his voice bitter but hollow. “Say 'you’ll miss me'. Say 'you’ll never forget me'. It doesn’t matter.”

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “It does matter,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your feelings. “Lucerys, you matter to me.”

He froze under your touch, his breath hitching. For a moment, it felt like the barriers he’d built around himself might crumble entirely. But then he shook his head, stepping out of your reach.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t watch you leave. I just… I can’t.”

“Lucerys—”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but unsteady. “Just… don’t. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

"Just go ahead and leave."

And before you could say anything else, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night and leaving you standing there, your heart breaking into pieces, all over again.

Lucerys walked quickly, his boots crunching against the gravel road as he put as much distance as he could between himself and you. His chest ached, a deep, suffocating pain that refused to go away, no matter how hard he tried to push it down.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the crumpled cigarette pack. His mind raced, every word you’d said replaying in his head like a song stuck on repeat.

You matter to me.

Your voice lingered, soft and trembling, but full of conviction. It had felt like a lifeline, something he wanted to grab onto, to believe in. But the fear… the fear of losing you, of losing himself, had been stronger.

“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, his voice bitter. “So fucking stupid.”

He wanted to turn back, to find you and tell you he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want you to leave, that he didn’t want to be alone again. But his feet kept moving forward, away from you, as if they were acting on their own.

Because deep down, he knew he wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t enough to make you stay.

He wasn’t enough to deserve the way you looked at him like he was something worth saving.

Lucerys clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists inside his pockets. The anger simmered beneath the surface, not at you, but at himself—at the boy who could never seem to hold onto anything good.

When he finally stopped walking, he found himself standing at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The waves crashed against the rocks below, loud and unforgiving, their rhythm steady and endless.

Lucerys stared out at the horizon, his breath uneven as he tried to quiet the storm inside him. The wind whipped at his curls, and the salty spray of the sea clung to his skin, but he barely noticed.

He pulled the pack of Marlboros from his pocket, his hands trembling as he fished out a cigarette. The lighter flickered in the wind, the flame struggling to hold on before finally catching.

As he took a long drag, the burn in his chest distracted him from the ache in his heart, if only for a moment. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around him and disappearing into the night air.

“This is for the best,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the roar of the waves.

If he let himself believe in you, in what you’d said, it would only make the pain worse when you left. And you would leave. Everyone always did.

It was easier this way—cutting the cord now before it could wrap around his throat and choke him.

But as the minutes stretched on, Lucerys couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your eyes had shimmered with tears, the way your voice had cracked when you’d told him he mattered.

It wasn’t fair.

He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his curls as he paced along the edge of the cliff.

“Damn it,” he muttered the words barely a growl.

He dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the dirt with his boot. The frustration boiled over, his emotions spilling out as he kicked at a loose rock, sending it tumbling into the sea below.

Lucerys pressed his hands to his face, his fingers digging into his skin as he fought the urge to scream.

He hated this. Hated the way he felt, hated the way you made him feel. Like maybe, just maybe, he was worth something. But he wasn’t.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he sank to the ground, his back resting against the jagged rocks behind him.

The waves continued their relentless rhythm, drowning out the sound of his uneven breathing. Lucerys sat there, his heart heavy with regret and the unbearable weight of what could have been.

You were lost, stuck in a whirlpool of thoughts. Leaving him felt impossible, yet staying seemed even worse. This place—this wasn’t your home.

You slid down the rough wall of the store he had walked away from, feeling the cool concrete against your back. Tears seeped down your cheeks, unchecked and warm. The cigarette he had given you was only a stub now, but you still cradled it in your fingers, as if it were the last trace of him you’d ever have.

Was this it? The final moment you both shared?

Maybe dropping the bomb that you were leaving right when he was starting to accept you back was a mistake. But you didn’t want to be dishonest. It hurt more to pretend when you knew you’d eventually walk away, leaving him behind.

"You alright?" A voice knocked you from your thoughts. It wasn't the one you wanted to hear—definitely not. Looking up, you saw a guy with short blonde hair and a cashier name-tag that read Aegon. 

"No," you muttered, your tone flat and honest. You figured he wouldn’t really care either way.

"I saw that little fight of yours with your boyfriend," he said with a chuckle, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Not my boyfriend," you shot back, bitterness creeping in.

"Right, whatever. But man, that was one of the more entertaining things I’ve seen in a while," he said, lighting up his own cigarette and taking a long drag, the smoke swirling around him. He coughed lightly, then continued, seemingly unfazed.

"You should be glad he’s not your boyfriend though. Stabbed my brother's eye out when we were kids, yeah... brutal stuff." He sighed, but there was a strange twinkle of amusement in his eyes as if he found the memory funny.

You stared at him, bewildered. He didn’t notice your confusion or maybe just didn’t care as he rambled on.

"Yeah, his friends are into moving dope around the city. Not him, though. But, I mean, how long until it's up his nose too, right?" He laughed as if he’d just shared a hilarious joke rather than dropping some serious dirt about his mates. 

"Right..." you dragged the word out, looking down to focus on the ground, trying to shake off the weight of what he had just said.

"Best forget about that lad, you’re way too pretty for him anyway," he tossed over his shoulder with a wink before sauntering back inside. You were left sitting there, alone with your swirling mix of emotions and the unsettling new pieces of information. Was this what Luke was trying to keep from you?

You needed to find him.

The air felt heavier than usual as you stepped out into the early evening, the fading sunlight casting a muted golden glow over the small town. The last few days had passed in a blur—your thoughts endlessly looping back to Lucerys, the fight, and Aegon’s careless words.

You hadn’t seen Lucerys since that night. No matter how many times you’d wandered near the docks or the places he might haunt, he was always just out of reach, like a shadow you couldn’t catch. It left you hollow, the ache of missing him growing stronger with each passing day.

Tonight, though, you’d let Glorina talk you into going out. She’d called it a “gathering,” though it was clear from the noise spilling into the street that it was just a casual get-together at one of the local bars.

The bar was crowded and buzzing with laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and faint music filling the space. You hadn’t meant to stay this long, but Glorina had been insistent that you “go out and have a little fun.” And now here you were, nursing a watered-down drink and trying to navigate the polite conversation with a guy whose name you only vaguely remembered.

Aegon, you thought, watching as he leaned casually against the bar, a devil-may-care smirk plastered across his face.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “you’re too gorgeous to be sitting here looking all serious. Someone break your heart?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m fine,” you said, your tone clipped, though his boldness made it hard to hide a small, amused smile.

Aegon grinned, leaning in slightly. “That smile says otherwise. Bet I could make you forget whatever’s got you looking so lost.”

“I’m not lost,” you replied, but there was an edge of annoyance in your voice now.

From across the room, Lucerys watched the interaction like a predator tracking its prey. His green eyes narrowed, his grip on his beer glass so tight it threatened to shatter. Jacaerys and Joffrey sat beside him, trying to engage him in conversation, but Lucerys barely heard a word.

“Luke?” Jacaerys nudged his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You good?”

Lucerys didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed firmly on you and Aegon, his chest tightening as he watched the blonde lean in closer, his smirk widening with every passing second.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Without a word, Lucerys stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back. Jacaerys and the others looked up in surprise, but Lucerys was already moving, his strides purposeful and quick as he crossed the room.

You barely had time to register Lucerys’ approach before it happened. One moment, Aegon was leaning in, his hand casually brushing against yours on the bar. The next, he was stumbling backwards, Lucerys’s hand on his chest as he shoved him hard.

“What the hell?” Aegon barked, catching himself against the edge of a table.

Lucerys didn’t reply. His fist flew before you could even process what was happening, connecting with Aegon’s jaw in a sharp, brutal motion. The crack of bone echoed above the noise of the bar, and Aegon staggered, clutching his face.

“Lucerys!” you shouted, grabbing his arm to pull him back, but he was like a live wire, his whole body trembling with adrenaline and anger.

“What’s your problem, man?” Aegon spat, straightening up and wiping a smear of blood from his lip.

“You,” Lucerys growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Stay the hell away from her.”

Aegon laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Jealous much? Didn’t realize she was your property.”

Lucerys lunged forward again, but you stepped between them, pressing your hands against his chest. “Stop it, Lucerys!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

For a moment, Lucerys didn’t move, his green eyes locked onto Aegon’s with a searing intensity. Then, slowly, he let out a sharp breath, his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“Yeah, walk away,” Aegon muttered, smirking despite the pain. “Big man with your cheap punches.”

Lucerys didn’t react, but you felt the tension radiating off him as you guided him toward the door. The bar was eerily quiet now, all eyes on the two of you as you stepped outside into the cool night air.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded once you were out of earshot, turning to face him.

Lucerys raked a hand through his curls, pacing in front of you like a caged animal. “He was all over you,” he snapped, his voice low but sharp.

“He wasn’t doing anything,” you argued, your voice rising. “He was just talking to me!”

“Talking?” Lucerys scoffed, his green eyes blazing. “That’s what you call that? I saw the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you—”

You cut him off, your frustration boiling over. “Why do you even care, Lucerys? You’re the one who keeps pushing me away!”

The words seemed to hit him like a physical blow, and he stopped pacing, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Because I can’t stand it,” he said finally, his voice raw and trembling. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you—to him, to anyone.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but your own anger and hurt kept you from softening entirely. “Then stop pushing me away,” you said, your voice cracking. “Stop acting like you don’t care when we both know you do!”

Lucerys looked at you, his green eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear. And then, before you could say anything else, he grabbed your face and pulled you close.

Your foreheads rested together as the world around you seemed to fade away. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“Then stop running,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

Lucerys closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“So am I,” you whispered. “But I’m not going anywhere, Lucerys. Not unless you push me away again.”

He let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly, as if letting go would shatter him completely.

Lucerys held you tightly, his breath uneven as his forehead rested against yours. The warmth of his body anchored you, but you could feel the storm raging inside him, the walls he was still trying so desperately to keep standing.

You couldn’t let this moment pass without saying what had been sitting heavy on your chest for days.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission.

Lucerys pulled back slightly, his green eyes narrowing in confusion. “Know what?”

You hesitated, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his hoodie. “I know about your past. What you’ve done. What your friends are into.”

The shift in his posture was immediate. His body stiffened, his jaw tightening as his gaze dropped. “Who told you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“You mentioned it briefly, but... Aegon,” you admitted quietly, watching as his expression darkened. “He didn’t say much—just enough for me to put the pieces together.”

Lucerys let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stepped back, breaking the fragile connection between you. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Bet he loved twisting the knife.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said, leaning toward him, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said flatly. “You know now. So what are you still doing here?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, your voice cracking with emotion. “I care about who you are, not what you’ve done.”

Lucerys laughed again, harsher this time, the sound cutting through you like glass. “You say that now, but you don’t get it. You don’t know the things I’ve done—the people I’ve been around. My friends, the shit they’re into… that’s my world. You don’t belong in it.”

“Maybe I don’t know everything,” you admitted, stepping closer. “But I don’t care about any of that, Lucerys. I care about you.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his curls. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. You think this is some fairytale where I can just walk away from everything and be good enough for you?” He turned away, his shoulders tense. “I can’t. I’ll just destroy you like I destroy everything else.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill.

He turned back to you, his green eyes blazing with anger and anguish. “You don’t know that!” he snapped. “People like me don’t get to have happy endings.”

The line hit you like a blow, the raw pain in his voice cutting deep. But you didn’t back down.

“Good men die too,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you met his gaze. “I’d rather be with you.”

Lucerys stared at you, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The words you’d just spoken hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Good men die too, I’d rather be with you.

He wanted to believe you, to let himself fall into the promise of those words, but his fear twisted into something darker. He turned away, running a hand through his curls as if trying to erase the weight of the moment.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “You think I’m just some kid with a bad temper? My family... You have no idea what my family’s like.”

You took a cautious step closer, your heart pounding in the still, eerie quiet. “Then tell me the truth, Lucerys. Stop shutting me out.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humour. “You really want the truth?” he said, his hand clenching into a tight fist, shaking with the weight of his anger. “The truth is, my mom keeps a gun in the kitchen drawer, not just for show. She doesn’t trust a soul in this town. My brothers and I learned to shoot before we learned how to ride bikes because in this town... because 'we needed to know how to defend ourselves'." He exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiff. “That’s my family. That’s the world I come from. You don’t belong anywhere near it.”

The confession left you breathless, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. You could see the fear and anger he’d been hiding spilling out in jagged fragments.

“That doesn’t scare me,” you said quietly, taking another step toward him.

He turned to face you, his green eyes blazing. “It should!” he snapped. “God, it should! You think you can just walk into my life and fix this? Fix me?”

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “I don’t think I can fix you, Lucerys. But I’m not scared of you or your family, and I’m not running away!”

He let out a sharp breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. “I don’t want you to end up like them. Bitter. Angry. Always looking over your shoulder, wondering if the people around you will stick a knife in your back.”

You hesitated, the rawness in his voice making your chest ache. “That’s not going to happen,” you said softly. “You’re not like them, Lucerys. I see the good in you, even if you can’t.”

“You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly, his voice trembling.

“No,” you replied, your voice steady. “The only thing I’d regret is walking away from you.”

Lucerys stared at you, his jaw tightening as his emotions warred within him. And then, like a dam breaking, he grabbed your face and kissed you, his hands trembling as they cradled your cheeks.

The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, his lips moving against yours like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t put into words. You melted into him, your hands clutching at his hoodie as the tension between you finally broke.

Lucerys kissed you with a fierce intensity, his trembling hands gripping your face tightly as if trying to pour every unspoken fear and desire into the desperate press of his lips against yours. The heat of his skin, the rapid pulse of his heartbeat against your chest, the shaky gasps of breath he took between kisses—it was all a testament to the turmoil raging inside him. He couldn't run from this, from you, anymore. Not when every fibre of his being screamed at him to pull you closer.

You gazed up at Lucerys, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you shook your head in amused exasperation. "You're so stupid," you sighed, your thumb brushing lightly over his kiss-swollen lip. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the slight tremble that still lingered there. "So stupid if you think you can push me away that easily."

Leaning in, you captured his lips in another kiss, this one softer, more deliberate. You savoured the taste of him, the way his mouth moved against yours with a newfound sense of desperation. Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the racing beat of his heart beneath your palms.

You poured all your own fears and hopes into the kiss, wanting him to feel the depth of your trust. You weren't going anywhere, no matter how much he might want to run. You were here, and you were choosing him.

As you pulled back, you looked into his eyes, your own shining with unshed tears and unspoken promises. "You can't scare me off, Lucerys," you whispered, your voice low and fierce.

Lucerys stared down at you, his green eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. Your words, spoken with such fierce conviction, seemed to penetrate the walls he'd built around his heart. He could feel them chipping away, could feel the cracks letting in the light of your unwavering faith in him.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheekbones. "You're crazy," he whispered, a hint of wonder in his voice. "Crazy to want to be with someone like me."

He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to gather the courage to say what he needed to say. Lucerys took a deep, shuddering breath, his hands trembling as they cradled your face.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "But I know I can't let you go." He buried his face in your hair and breathed in your scent. "Stay with me," he murmured, his arms tightening around you like a lifeline. "Don't let me push you away. Please."

Your heart swelled as Lucerys's words washed over me, his raw, trembling confession striking you right in the chest. You gazed up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as a single one slid down your cheek.

"I'll stay with you," I breathed out, my voice cracking with the force of my emotion. "I know no that I can't be without you, Lucerys."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as sobs wracked your body.

Lucerys held you tightly, his own tears flowing freely now as he felt your body shake against his. He stroked your hair, and your back, murmuring words of love and reassurance as he rocked you gently. "Shh, I've got you," he soothed, his voice thick with emotion. "I've got you, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in your scent, letting it calm and centre him.

You crashed your lips against his in a fiery, desperate kiss, throwing your arms around his neck like a woman possessed. Your fingers raked through his messy curls, gripping them tightly as if you could anchor yourself to him forever. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, a messy tangle of lips and tongues and pent-up emotion.

You nipped at his bottom lip, soothing the sting with your tongue before diving back in for more. Your nails dug into the skin of his neck, no doubt leaving marks, claiming him, branding him as mine. You wanted him to feel the force of your desire. To make him believe how much you truly needed him.

Lucerys groaned as you attacked his mouth, your affection igniting a fire in his veins. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back with equal fervour. He could feel your nails digging into his skin, leaving delicious marks of possession. It only spurred him on, urging him to claim you just as thoroughly.

When you broke the kiss, he was left panting, his eyes glazed over with lust. He rested his forehead against yours. "You're going to be the death of me." He nipped at your jaw, your neck, marking you in turn. "But what a way to go," he murmured, his lips brushing your skin.

You looked up at Lucerys through tear-streaked lashes, your heart fluttering in your chest. With a tender touch, you brushed away the tears clinging to his cheeks, your thumb lingering on his skin. A soft, shy smile played on your lips as you met his intense, love-drunk gaze.

Lucerys's breath caught in his throat at your tender touch, his heart swelling with a love so profound it almost hurt. He leaned into your caress, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savoured the gentle brush of your thumb against his skin. A slow, soft smile spread across his face, mirroring your own.

Opening his eyes, Lucerys gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, his purple irises shimmering with unshed tears and a love so intense it stole your breath away. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he inhaled deeply, committing your scent to memory.

"I want to show you how sorry I am," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "Words have never been my strong suit, but I want to try. You wanna come to my place?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, never having done this before.

He glanced towards the bar, where the sounds of laughter and music still emanated. "I'll make sure my brothers stay out longer. Jace and Joff will be entertained at the bar for hours. And even if they do come home..." Lucerys shrugged, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Who cares. I just want to be alone with you, to show you how much you mean to me."

He held out his hand, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability. "Please, come with me."

Clinging to his side, you let your smaller hand slip into his larger, calloused one. The contrast of your hands, and your bodies, sent a thrill through you.

"Alright, I'll come with you..." you sighed, your voice soft. You pressed yourself closer, your hip against his thigh as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. "But you're sure your brothers won't come home early and interrupt our... private time?" you giggled somewhat nervously but still sounded like a siren's call to him.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he gazed down at you with a grin. "Trust me, love, they won't be back anytime soon. Jace and Joff are too busy being the life of the party to call it a night early." His thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. "Besides, I've got a few ideas to keep us umm... occupied." His voice dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes glinting with promise.

You followed Lucerys out in the crisp night air, content to walk beside him in the comfortable silence. Occasionally, you found yourself stealing glances at his handsome profile, admiring the strong line of his jaw and how his messy curls fell over his forehead.

As you walked, you let your fingers trace idle patterns on his arm, feeling the firm muscle beneath his hoodie. You were acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched - his hand holding yours, his thigh brushing against your hip with each step.

Lucerys glanced down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he caught you staring. He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope you know that." He kept walking, keeping you close to his side as he led you through the quiet streets.

Your cheeks tingled with his sweet words. "I don't mind you reminding me," you breathed out, a small, coy smile on your lips. 

Lucerys chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. "Good, because I plan to remind you often," he teased, his voice low and warm.

After a short while, you arrived at a big house, the architecture reminiscent of the past. Lucerys led you inside, closing the heavy wooden door behind you. The entryway was dimly lit, with a narrow staircase leading to the second floor. He turned to face you, his hands resting on your waist.

Lucerys gazed down at you, his green eyes darkening with an intensity that made your heart race. "Welcome to my home," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Well, technically, my family's home. But for now, it's ours." He stepped closer, one hand sliding to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "I want to take you upstairs to my room. I want to... I want to make love to you."

Your heart stopped as his words washed over you, a shiver running down your spine. He wanted to make love to you. Like he was finally letting you in, truly letting you see the real him.

You could only nod slowly. "Uhuh," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't form any other words, rendered speechless by the raw emotion in Lucerys' eyes.

Your hands came to rest on his shoulders, feeling the firmness of his muscles even through his hoodie.

Lucerys gazed down at you, his heart swelling with a love so profound it almost hurt. He could see the desire and trust shining in your eyes, filling him with awe and wonder. Slowly, gently, he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft, tender kiss. His hand slid into your hair, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his love and longing into it. He wanted you to feel it, to understand the depth of his feelings for you.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you so much." He pressed another soft kiss to your lips before scooping you into his arms, carrying you bridal style up the narrow staircase. He held you close, protective and possessive, as he navigated the darkened hallways of the old house.

Stopping in front of a heavy wooden door, he kicked it open, revealing a spacious bedroom decorated in rich, cool tones. A large four-poster bed dominated the room, the sheets already turned down invitingly. Lucerys carried you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress.

Your heart raced as you gazed up at Lucerys, your cheeks flushed and eyes bright with anticipation. Slowly, almost shyly, you slid your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Next went your shirt, leaving you in jeans and a black lacy bra.

You sat up on your elbows, your hair spilling over your shoulders as you looked at him. You wanted to see him, to feel his skin against yours. Your fingers itched with the need to explore his body, to map out every inch of him.

"Your turn," you whispered, your voice breathy with desire. You tilted your head, a coy smile playing on your lips as you waited for him to bare himself to you.

Slowly, almost reverently, he reached for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. He tossed it aside carelessly, leaving him in a thin white t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his skin flushed and warm.

He stepped closer to the bed, his hands coming to the hem of his shirt. He paused, his eyes locked with yours, before slowly, teasingly, he peeled the shirt up and off. He tossed it to the side, leaving him bare from the waist up. His chest was lean and toned, with a light dusting of hair trailing down his stomach. A thin scar ran across his collarbone, a memento from a childhood adventure gone wrong. But it only added to his rugged, masculine appeal.

Your heart fluttered as you admired him. You could feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

Sitting up, you reached for the button of your jeans, your fingers trembling slightly as you popped it open. You looked up at Lucerys, your eyes shimmering with nerves and anticipation.

"Could you help me slide these off?" You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You lifted your hips slightly, a silent invitation for him to assist you.

"Of course," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, slowly tugging them down your long, shapely legs. He took his time, savouring the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips as he exposed more and more of you to his heated gaze.

As he slid your jeans off completely, he tossed them aside without a care. His hands lingered on your calves, stroking the soft skin gently before trailing back up to your thighs. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch, and it only fueled his desire.

He leaned down, his face hovering inches from your newly exposed skin. He could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of your arousal, and it made his mouth water. Slowly, teasingly, he leaned in and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He could feel you tense beneath him, and he smiled against your thigh.

You could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your skin flushed and tingling with anticipation. The dampness between your legs grew, your panties clinging to your folds as evidence of your increasing arousal.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, a soft gasp escaping your lips. "Please," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't even realize you'd spoken aloud until you heard the desperation in your own tone. You were so wound up and ready to shatter. And all it took was a few teasing touches from Lucerys's hands and lips.

Lucerys groaned softly as he heard your breathless plea, feeling a surge of masculine pride at how desperately he was affecting you. He could smell your arousal and could feel the heat radiating off your core. It took every ounce of his restraint not to bury his face between your thighs and taste you deeply.

You squirmed beneath his teasing touch, your breathing becoming shallow and uneven. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, twisting the fabric in your fists as you fought the urge to beg him to touch you where you needed it most. You could feel your core clenching, aching for his touch, for some form of relief from the building pressure.

He continued his sensual assault, trailing kisses up your thigh until he reached the lace edge of your panties. He nuzzled against the damp fabric, breathing in your scent and feeling the heat of your sex through the thin material.

His hands slid up to your hips, gripping them gently as he looked up at you with lidded eyes. "You smell so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your panties. "I bet you taste even better."

With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clothed sex, his lips parting slightly to allow his tongue to slip out and lick a slow stripe along your slit. He could feel you twitching beneath him, could hear your gasp of pleasure. It spurred him on, and he continued to lap at you through the fabric, his tongue stroking your folds and circling your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes.

He could feel you growing wetter, your juices seeping through the lace to coat his lips and chin. He groaned softly, the vibrations adding to your pleasure as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth. His hands slid around to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globes as he held you in place, preventing you from squirming away from his relentless onslaught.

You let out a choked moan, your back arching off the bed as Lucerys's tongue worked through the damp lace of your panties. Each stroke sent jolts of electricity through your veins, the fire building rapidly in your core. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast, your body responding to his teasing touches like a live wire.

"Mmm," you whimpered, your fingers fisting in his hair as you tried to grind against his mouth. But his strong hands gripping your ass held you in place, leaving you at the mercy of his relentless teasing. You could feel every lap, every circle around your aching clit, the sensation dulled by the thin barrier of your panties. Your thighs trembled, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Lucerys could feel your body trembling beneath his touch, could hear the desperation in your voice as you moaned and whimpered above him. He knew he was pleasing you and could feel your arousal coating his chin, but he was still learning, still figuring out what you liked best.

He licked and suckled at your clothed sex, his tongue pressing against your clit and circling it sloppily. He could feel it throb against his lips, could hear your breathy cries growing louder and more frequent. Emboldened, he leaned in and caught your clit between his lips, suckling on the sensitive bud as he looked up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

Suddenly, he tugged your panties to the side, exposing your dripping sex to his heated gaze. He whined at the sight, taking a moment to admire your glistening folds before diving in to taste you properly.

Lucerys leaned in, running his tongue along your slit, feeling you clench and flutter around the invasive muscle. He groaned at the taste of you, sweet and tangy. He licked and suckled at your folds, his movements slightly clumsy but eager. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, feeling it swell beneath his touch.

"Oh, Luke!" You cried out, your head falling back against the pillows as you felt his tongue finally make contact with your aching sex. Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut in bliss as he began to lap at your dripping folds. 

Lucerys paused, looking up at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty in his eyes. "Am I doing this right?" he asked softly, his voice rough and breathless. "Tell me what you need, love. I want to make this amazing for you." His fingers traced teasing circles on your inner thigh as he waited for your guidance, eager to please you in any way he could.

You couldn't hold back the desperate, wanton whine that tore from your throat as he broke away briefly to ask if he was pleasing you. "Mmmm, so good," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. You tangled your fingers in his hair, nestling his head against your sex as you urged him on. "You're doing so, so good. Don't stop, please don't stop." You could feel your climax building rapidly, your core clenching and fluttering around his exploring tongue.

Lucerys groaned softly, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair as you urged him on. The way you bucked your hips, seeking more of his touch, spurred him to continue his sensual assault. He could feel your climax building, could feel your sex clenching and fluttering around his tongue. It made him feel powerful, knowing he could affect you so greatly.

He kissed his way down your thighs, his lips trailing over your soft skin as he made his way to your dripping sex. Impatiently, he tugged your panties off, tossing them carelessly to the side. He wanted to taste you properly, to bury his face in your heat and lose himself in your essence.

Lucerys leaned in, running his tongue along your slit, feeling you clench and flutter around the invading muscle. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he licked and suckled at your folds. His movements were messy, sloppy even, but eager and filled with desire.

He could feel your arousal all over his lower face, could taste your sweetness on his tongue. It made him feel drunk, completely intoxicated by the taste of you. He licked and suckled at your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud as he looked up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

Lucerys let out a low, guttural moan as he continued to pleasure you, his face smudged in your juices. He could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He knew you were close, and he doubled his efforts, determined to make you come undone.

Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut as you felt your climax building to a crescendo. You couldn't form any words, only incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as your body tensed and tightened. Abruptly, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming uncontrollably.

"Ahhh!" You screamed, your voice echoing off the bedroom walls as you gushed all over Lucerys's eager face. You could feel your slick arousal pouring out of you, soaking his lips and the lower half of his face completely. Your stomach muscles contracted, your back arching off the bed as you rode out the intense waves of your orgasm.

Lucerys continued to lap at you, his tongue stroking your fluttering walls as you came down from your high. You collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving and your skin flushed and glistening with sweat. "Stop! It's too...ahh! So sensitive...mm," you whimpered, thighs trembling around his face.

As your body began to relax, he slowly pulled back, looking up at you with a satisfied, almost drunk grin, his chin and cheeks glistening with your juices. "You're so pretty when you come."

He pressed a soft kiss to your sensitive sex before trailing his lips up your quivering stomach, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. He paused to press a kiss to your breast, his tongue darting out to flick over the hardened peak of your nipple, wrapping his lips around the hardening bud through the lace.

His actions made you let out a whimper and you could feel your arousal dripping onto the sheets, a wet patch appearing there. The lace of your bra began to stick to your skin, Lucerys' wet mouth all over your breast.

"Mmmh," you breathed out, your voice high and needy. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to your breast.

Lucerys whined as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to your breast. He could feel your nipple hardening under his tongue, your skin warm against his lips. He suckled gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as he gazed up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

His hand slid up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he continued to lavish attention on your chest. He could feel your heart racing beneath his palm, could hear your breath coming in soft pants and whimpers. It made him feel powerful, knowing he could affect you so deeply.

He trailed his fingers along the edge of your bra, toying with the clasp. He glanced up at you, his eyes questioning. "Can I...?" he asked softly, his voice rough with desire. At your nod, he deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside to reveal your bare breasts to his heated gaze.

Soon enough his mouth was back on your tit, making you let out a sharp gasp. Your fingers caressed his soft curls, gently stroking his hair as he suckled and tugged on the hardened peak with his teeth.

Lucerys groaned softly as he felt your fingers in his hair, your gentle touch making his cock throb.

"I want... I want to make you feel good too," you whispered breathlessly, your voice thick with desire. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent, and it made you ache to touch him, to taste him, to feel him inside you.

He could hear the need in your voice. It made him pulsate with desire, his arousal straining against his jeans.

He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a heated gaze. "You already do," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Making you feel good makes me feel incredible." He pressed another soft kiss to your breast before trailing his lips up to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your throat.

All the while, he rutted against your thigh. The friction was maddening, teasing, not enough but oh so good. His breathing grew ragged, his heart pounding as he lost himself in you.

He slid a hand down your body, his fingers skimming over your stomach, and your hips, before cupping your sex possessively. He could feel the heat radiating off you, could feel your slick arousal coating his fingers as he stroked along your slit. He groaned against your neck, his hips jerking sharply at the feel of your dripping sex.

"Fuck," he panted, his voice strained with desire. He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, feeling it swell beneath his touch. His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, before slowly pushing inside your tight heat. He groaned at the feel of your walls clenching around the invading digits, your body welcoming him in.

You choked on a moan as his fingers began pumping inside you, your greedy little cunt clenching hungrily around the delicious stretch. A needy whimper escaped your lips as he massaged my most sensitive spots.

Unable to resist any longer, your hand drifted down to cup the hard, straining length of him through his jeans. You could feel him throbbing against your palm. You applied pressure, rubbing along his impressive size, feeling him twitch eagerly against your touch.

You gazed at him with hooded, lust-darkened eyes, your voice breathless and heavy with desire. "I need to make you feel good," you insisted, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to taste you, to feel you in my mouth, to make you feel as good as you make me feel.."

With that, you gently pushed him onto his back on the soft mattress, kneeling next to him as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Lucerys moaned into the kiss, his fingers still pumping slowly inside your dripping sex. He could feel your hand rubbing along his aching length, the pressure and friction delicious torture. He thrust his hips up into your touch, seeking more of that incredible sensation.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest heaving as he looked up at you with lust-glazed eyes. "Fuck, yes," he panted, his voice strained with desire. "I want that more than anything."

He watched through hooded eyes as you slowly slid down his body, your fingers trailing over his chest, his stomach, before reaching for the button of his jeans. He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug his jeans and boxers down his legs. His hard cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a smear of precum on his skin.

He shuddered as the cool air hit his heated flesh, his cock twitching under your gaze. Lucerys tangled his fingers in your hair, gently guiding you down to his lap.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice high and needy. "I need your mouth on me, need to feel your lips wrapped around my cock. Please." His words were punctuated by the thrust of his hips, his cock bobbing with each movement as he sought your touch.

You smiled at the needy tone in his voice, your heart melting at his desperate plea. "I'll make you feel so good...," I purred, "...baby boy," you added in a barely audible whisper. You leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the trail of hair, leading from his navel down to the base of his impressive cock.

When you called him 'baby boy' in that sweet, breathy tone, he let out a soft, strangled moan. His hips jerked off the bed, a fresh spurt of precum beading at the swollen tip.

A deep blush spread across his cheeks and neck at the unexpectedly intimate endearment. It made him feel cherished, desired, and strangely vulnerable in the best way possible.

"Fuck, I love hearing you call me that," he breathed out, his voice trembling slightly. "Please, I need your mouth on me. I'm going crazy."

Wrapping your hand around his thick shaft, you licked a slow stripe from base to tip, savouring the taste of his skin, the scent of his arousal. You could feel him pulsing in your grasp and could see the bead of precum glistening at the pink head of his cock.

You stroked him slowly, your hand gliding along his velvet-soft skin, feeling him twitch and pulse beneath your touch. You spat on his tip, letting your saliva dribble down his length.

He watched, enraptured, as you spat on his tip, the saliva trickling down his hard cock. It was so filthy, so dirty, and yet so fucking hot. He groaned at the sight, his cock jumping and leaking even more precum at the erotic display.

Lucerys could feel the heat building in his core, could feel his orgasm already threatening to overwhelm him. It was intense and all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

You slowly leaned in, placing kitten licks and soft, teasing kisses along his tip, your breath hot against his sensitive flesh.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he gasped out, his voice strained and high with pleasure. He could feel every flick and lick of your tongue. "Please," he whimpered, his voice breaking slightly. "I need more. I need to feel your lips around me."

You need more?" you purred, your voice low and teasing, a coy smile on your lips.

At his desperate nod, you leaned in, wrapping your soft, plump lips around the head of his cock. You could feel it throb against your tongue as you slowly took him deeper, inch by thick inch disappearing between your lips until the tip kissed the back of your throat.

Lucerys let out a choked moan as your lips wrapped around his sensitive cock, your hot mouth engulfing him completely. "Oh fuck, oh god," he panted, his fingers tightening in your hair as you took him deeper. He could feel the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat, and it made his hips jerk up involuntarily.

"I've never... fuck... I can't believe how good this feels." He looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes, watching as more and more of his hard length disappeared between your stretched lips with each bob of your head.

He could hardly form a coherent thought, his mind hazing with pleasure as you took him deeper and deeper. The sight of your mouth stretched around him, the feeling of your tongue gliding along his shaft, it was almost too much to bear.

Lucerys's hips jerked up involuntarily, seeking more of that amazing sensation. He could feel your throat convulsing around him as you adjusted to his size, and it made him groan deeply. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his skin flushed and sweaty.

You let out a gag as Lucerys thrust into your mouth, tears springing to your eyes from the sudden intrusion. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears as you gazed up at him with glossy, watery eyes.

The salty drops trickled down your cheeks, leaving a glistening trail on your soft skin. You could feel your makeup starting to run, but you didn't care. All you cared about was pleasing him.

Lucerys's heart clenched at the sight of your tears, a pang of concern and tenderness mixing with the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. "Shit, I'm sorry," he gasped out, immediately stilling his hips and gentling his grip on your hair. "I didn't mean to be so rough. Are you alright?" His hand gentled in your hair, no longer gripping, but caressing softly, his thumb brushing away the salty drops on your cheek.

But even as he said it, his hips jerked up accidentally, seeking the heat of your mouth once more. He was so close to the edge, his orgasm building rapidly in his heavy balls, heart racing at the erotic sight of your glistening, tear-stained cheeks and his hard cock stretching your lips.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he panted. "I just... I need..." He couldn't even finish his sentence, too lost in the sensation of your mouth around him.

With great reluctance, he pulled you off his throbbing shaft, watching as it bobbed and jerked in the cool air. The thick head was a deep, angry red, leaking copious amounts of precum.

Your heart swelled at his tender concern, warmed by the worry in his voice. You gently squeezed his thick shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in your grasp.

"Shh, it's okay," you murmured, voice low and soothing. "You didn't hurt me at all. I promise." You leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. You could taste the salty essence of his arousal on your tongue, and it made you crave more.

Lucerys shuddered as he felt your soft lips press against the sensitive head of his cock, your soothing words and gentle touch helping to calm his frayed nerves. He looked down at you with hooded, desperate eyes, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"Do you want me to continue?" You asked softly, your eyes gazing up at him with innocence and sultry promise. Your hand slowly stroked along his hard length, twisting gently as you awaited his response.

"Please, I'm so close," he whimpered, desperation clear in his tone. "Can you... will you... I need to come so badly." His fingers tightened in your hair, gently urging you back down to his aching cock. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. I just... I need to feel your mouth on me again. Please."

He was usually so much more in control. Still, something about you, about this moment, had stripped away all his defences until he was left bare and aching with desire.

"Such a good boy," you murmured, your voice approving. You breathed in deeply, pressing your nose against the coarse trimmed hair at the base of his thick shaft, inhaling his scent and placing a chaste kiss there. Holding yourself there for a moment, before slowly pulling back.

Licking your lips, you dove back down, engulfing his hard length in the warm, wet cavern of my mouth. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, lapping at the sensitive skin as you took him deep. Each time you sank down, your tongue dragged over his heavy balls, massaging them gently as you worked his cock with your mouth.

Lucerys let out a strangled moan. "Oh fuck, oh god," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows as you worked his aching cock with skilful ease. He could feel every flick and swirl of your tongue, every gentle massage of his cum-filled balls as you took him deeper and deeper.

Lucerys could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his groin, his balls drawing up as he neared his peak. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, not with the way you were worshipping his cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna come," he panted, his voice high and desperate. "Please, I need to come so badly. Can I... can I come in your mouth?" He looked down at you, his eyes hazy with lust and need. "I want to feel you swallow it, want to see you drink down every drop."

Gazing up at Lucerys with sultry, half-lidded eyes, you hummed your encouragement around his throbbing shaft, feeling it twitch against your tongue. Not needing words, you picked up the pace, bobbing your head faster as you worked him towards his release.

You wrapped your thumb and index finger snugly around the base of his thick cock, squeezing tightly. With each pump, you milked his heavy balls, coaxing out every last drop of his impending orgasm.

Lucerys's breath came in sharp, desperate pants as you worked him towards his release, your skilled mouth and hand driving him wild with lust. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" he cried out, his voice rising in pitch and volume with each bob of your head.

With a final, strangled moan, Lucerys came undone, his cock pulsing and jerking as he spilt his hot seed down your eager throat. "Oh god, yes! Swallow it, please swallow it all!" he begged, his hips jerking up to bury himself deep in your mouth as he rode out the intense waves of his climax.

Thick, creamy ropes of cum pumped out of his throbbing shaft, coating your tongue and the back of your throat. It was an overwhelming amount, and he could feel you struggling to swallow it all, your throat working as you gulped down every drop of his release.

You tried desperately to swallow every drop of Lucerys's hot, thick seed, but some of it spilt from the corners of your stretched lips, dribbling down his twitching shaft. You pulled off his softening cock with a lewd pop, your chest heaving as you gasped for air.

Licking your lips, you cleaned up the mess, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head to lap up every last bit of his release.

"Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your voice slightly hoarse from the exertion. You placed a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of his cock, feeling it twitch weakly against your lips.

Lucerys collapsed back against the pillows, completely spent and sated. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. He watched through hooded eyes as you licked and kissed his softening cock, cleaning up every drop of his release.

"Fuck...," he panted, his voice rough and low. "You're so pretty." He reached out, gently cupping your cheek and thumbing away a stray drop of his cum that had landed there.

You kissed and nipped your way up Lucerys's toned stomach, relishing the taste of his sweat-slicked skin. Reaching his neck, you pressed your soft lips against his racing pulse. A small smile played across your kiss-swollen lips as you gazed at him.

"Was that good?" you asked. You needed his praise and craved it like a drug. Seeing the blissed-out, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face.

Your fingers traced patterns on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your touch. You snuggled closer, pressing your soft curves against his side as you waited for his response.

Lucerys gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration, his heart still racing in his chest. "That was... fuck, that was incredible," he breathed out, his voice filled with awe. "I've never... I mean, I've touched myself before, but that... you..."He seemed at a loss for words, unable to fully express the magnitude of the pleasure he had just experienced.

His hand tangled in your hair, gently stroking the silky strands as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I can't believe how amazing that felt," he murmured, his voice still rough from his intense orgasm. "I've never come so hard in my life. You're just..." He leaned in to capture your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, pouring his gratitude and desire into the intimate embrace.

You kissed him back softly, your lips curving into a satisfied smile against his. Your hand drifted from his heaving chest, your thumb gently caressing the sweat-slicked skin of his neck. You could feel his pulse slowly returning to a normal rhythm and see the blissed-out, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face.

Lucerys deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. He could feel himself growing hard again already, his cock stirring against your thigh as he pulled your naked body flush against his own.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight pussy wrapped around my cock." He rolled his hips, letting you feel how ready he was for you.

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the weight of your breast in his palm. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, feeling it stiffen under his touch. He leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Tell me you want it too," he breathed against your throat. "Tell me you need me."

You arched into Lucerys's touch, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he groped you. "Mhm," you gasped out, nodding eagerly. "I need you, Lucerys. Ever since you made love to me on that boat, I knew no other man could ever satisfy me. Please, I'm yours, all yours." You breathed your words into his neck, your heart racing with anticipation and desire.

Lucerys groaned at your breathless admission, feeling a surge of masculine pride and possessiveness. He liked the sound of that, liked knowing that he had ruined you for other men. He wanted to make good on that promise and try to show you just how thoroughly he could satisfy you.

"Fuck, I love hearing you say that," he growled, his voice deep and low with desire. He rolled you over, settling his hard body between your soft thighs. He could feel your wet heat against his aching shaft, and it made him throb with need.

."I feel the same way," he murmured, his voice thick with feeling. "I know I can never let you go, not now that I've had a taste of paradise in your arms."

He reached down, gripping your thighs and pushing them up and back towards your chest. The new position left you open and exposed to him, completely at his mercy. He took a moment to admire the view, his eyes roving hungrily over your glistening folds.

"Keep saying things like that," he commanded, his tip nudging your entrance teasingly. "Keep telling me how much you need me, how good I make you feel. I want to hear all of it as I fuck this tight little cunt."

You gazed up at Lucerys with hooded, desire-darkened eyes, your heart racing in your chest. "Please, Luke..." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I have longed for you. I've thought about your touch every single night, aching for you.."

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, urging his mouth back to mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. Your knees were pressed against his elbows and against your chest. The new angle allowed you to feel every hard inch of him pressing urgently against your dripping core.

"I want you to take me all night long," you mumbled against his lips, your nails raking down his back.

Lucerys froze, his green eyes wide and unblinking as they locked onto yours. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t know how to breathe, his chest rising and falling unevenly as your confession settled over him.

“Say that again,” he whispered, his voice rough and shaky, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right the first time.

“I said,” you began, your voice soft but unwavering, “I want you to take me—all night long.”

His breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he tried to steady himself. “Fuck, you can't just...” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

He kissed you with a hunger that bordered on frantic, his tongue delving deep into your mouth to claim you, to taste you.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest heaving against yours. "I want to fuck you in every room of this house," he panted, his voice rough and low. "I want to bend you over the kitchen counter, lay you out on the dining room table, fuck you in the bath, on the balcony overlooking the sea..."

He rocked his hips slowly, his cock sliding through your slick folds, not yet pushing inside. "I want to please you," he murmured.

You felt the tip of his hard cock nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing you, making you ache for more. A soft moan escaped your lips as you arched into him, your heart racing in anticipation.

"We... fuck... we have all night," you sighed, voice breathy and low. You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his gorgeous face, his chest heaving with desire. "Please, I need you inside of me."

Lucerys groaned as he slowly pushed forward, the head of his cock parting your slick folds and sinking into your tight heat. He had to pause, his breath catching in his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wanted to slam forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one hard thrust, but he forced himself to go slow, to savour every inch of your silken passage.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he slowly pushed forward, inch by delicious inch disappearing inside you. He could feel your body yielding to his, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick shaft.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Take my cock, let it fill you up." He rolled his hips, grinding against your clit as he bottomed out, his heavy balls nestling against your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasped, your back arching off the bed as you finally felt Lucerys's thick cock sink deep inside you, stretching you deliciously. "Thank you, thank you," you whimpered, your voice high and breathy, your mind hazing with pleasure at being so perfectly filled. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Mmm, needed you so bad," you sighed. "Please, don't stop."

Lucerys groaned as he felt your nails dig into his back, the slight pain only spurring him on. He began to move, withdrawing slowly until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before surging forward again, burying himself to the hilt in your tight, wet heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, setting a deep, sensual pace as he made love to you. Each thrust pushed him deeper, his cock kissing your cervix as he ground his hips against yours.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers.

"I'm going to fuck you all night long," he murmured against your lips. "Keep saying those pretty things, keep telling me how much you need my cock. I want to hear it, want to feel you come apart on my dick again and again."

He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, driving himself harder and faster into your welcoming body. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he made love to you with increasing fervour.

"Lucerys," you mewled breathlessly, the word escaping your lips in a needy whimper. You could feel every hard inch of him throbbing within your tight, dripping walls, and it made you ache for more.

But you wanted to ride him, to watch his face as you made him lose himself in pleasure. You placed your hands on his firm chest, giving him a gentle push. "Sit up," you breathed out, your voice low and sultry. "I want to ride you until you can’t take no more, want to watch your pretty face as I make you feel good."

Lucerys paused, his eyes widening at your words. He hesitated for a moment, desire and hesitation warring in his gaze. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I don't know if I can hold back if you start riding me." He bit his lip, his hips twitching slightly as he fought the urge to start thrusting up into you.

Your heart raced as you rolled my hips sensually. "Ohh, fuck, I love riding you," you praised him mindlessly, your words tumbling out in a jumbled mess.

"Don't hold back," you purred, your eyes gleaming with wicked promise. "I want to feel you throbbing and twitching inside me as I ride you hard and fast. I want to make you forget everything but the feel of my pussy around your cock, wanna watch your face as you come inside of me."

He thrusts up to meet your downward movements, driving himself deeper and harder into your dripping core. The new angle allowed him to hit that special spot inside you with every thrust, and he could feel your body starting to tremble above him.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and rough with lust. "Ride my cock just like that. Fuck, you look so sexy above me, bouncing on my dick like you can't get enough." He reached up to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds and thumbing your nipples as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Gripping his shoulders, you pushed his face into your heaving breasts. "Suck my tits," you purred, voice breathy. "Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." You arched your back, your wet pussy making an obscene noise with each bounce.

Lucerys obeyed quickly, humming around your nipple, his tongue swirling and sucking greedily at the sensitive bud. He could feel your wetness dripping down his shaft as you rode him harder and faster, your needy little whimpers and moans spurring him on.

"Fuck, your tits taste so good," he muttered, switching to the other breast to give it the same treatment. He could feel his orgasm building, your tight cunt squeezing him like a vice as you chased your own release.

"I'm getting close," he gasped, his hips starting to move erratically beneath you. "I don't know how much longer I can last."

You arched your back, pushing Lucerys's face deeper into your breasts as jolts of pleasure shot through you from his greedy sucking. You could feel your climax fast approaching, your inner walls starting to flutter around his throbbing shaft.

"I'm close too," you squealed, your eyes squeezing shut as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "Don't stop!" Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, holding him against your chest as you ground your hips down, taking him as deep as you could. You wanted to feel him explode inside you.

Lucerys gripped your hips tightly and held you up, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he thrust up into you with increasing urgency. "Fuck, I can't hold back any longer," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his impending orgasm. "I'm going to fill this tight little pussy up so good. You want that, don't you? You want to feel my hot cum shooting deep inside you?"

He could feel your walls starting to flutter around his shaft, and he knew you were just as close as he was. He leaned in to capture your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

He gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he emptied himself inside you, his hot seed spurting deep into your waiting womb.

You threw your head back, a high, keening moan tearing from your throat as my orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamped down around Lucerys's pulsing cock, rippling and squeezing as you gushed all over his shaft, your juices splashing against his navel and dripping down his thighs. You were shaking uncontrollably above him, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy, feeling like you had been utterly possessed by the intensity of your climax.

The feeling of Lucerys taking control, gripping your waist and holding you in place as he emptied himself deep inside you, had sent you hurtling over the edge.

It was the most intensely pleasurable experience of your young life, and you knew you would be ruined for anyone else after this. No one could ever make you feel as good as Lucerys just had.

As you slowly came down from your high, you collapsed against his chest, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You breathed out, nuzzling into his neck. "I've never come so hard in my life."

Lucerys held you close, his arms wrapping around your trembling form as he felt your walls flutter and clench around his spent cock. He could feel your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his thighs.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his voice low and rough with sated desire. He brushed your hair back from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as he gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you coming apart in my arms."

He rolled you over, settling you beneath him on the bed as he leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. He poured all of his feelings into it, trying to show you just how much this moment had meant to him.

"I meant what I said before," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "You're mine now, all mine. I won't let anyone else touch you, not after I've had you. You belong to me. You belong with me."

"Mmm, you know I do. And I could never imagine letting another man touch me again..." you sighed. "Especially not after witnessing firsthand just how... protective you can be. I mean, what you did to Aegon back at the bar..." you giggled at the thought.

Your fingers played with the soft, damp curls at the nape of his neck as you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. "It was pretty damn hot though, seeing you finally let go like that. I loved watching you lose control, seeing the real you shine through." You nuzzled into his jaw, breathing in his musky scent. "Don't hide that from me. I want to see that intensity, all the time. I'm not scared. I'm not leaving." You said as your tone turned more serious, cupping his jaw.

Lucerys's heart raced at your words, a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness rising up inside him. He knew he would do anything to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. He leaned into your touch, his cheek resting in the palm of your hand as he gazed down at you with a fierce intensity.

"I won't hide anything from you," he vowed, his voice low and serious. "I want you to see all of me, the good and the bad. I want you to know that I would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make you happy. You're not going anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it."

He leaned in for a passionate kiss. He wanted to brand you with his kiss, to mark you as his for all eternity.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and intense as they bore into yours. "You're mine," he growled, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm yours, completely and utterly. We belong together, you and I. I know it, deep down in my bones."

You gazed up at Lucerys, a gentle expression on your face. "Even though you tried to push me away at first?" You whispered, your voice soft.

Lucerys's expression softened at the reminder, a flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. He sighed, his thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. "Even then," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I was just... scared. Scared of how much I wanted you, of how easily you could ruin me if you were to leave. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were different, that you could make me feel things I had never felt before."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes. "But I can't run from this anymore, can't deny how much I need you. You've gotten under my skin, into my blood, and I don't ever want to be without you again."

"Good," you whispered, your voice soft and breathy with feeling. "Cause I don't want to be without you either." You pulled him into another kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft hair as you pressed your lips against his in a loving caress.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you held each other, your bodies moulding together like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars <3

[thesongoficeandfir3]

Mine to take care of

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Wife!reader

Warnings: brief talk of gore, talks of menstrual cycle, slight description of menstrual blood, smut alluded

Genre: Fluff

Prompt: Jace taking care of his wife who’s on her moon blood

A/n: You’re next Cregan Stark

You changed your position on the four-poster bed for what felt like the hundredth time as your mind bops in between sleep and wakefulness. You had a long and irritable day just wanting to sleep but your body had other ideas as it writhed in some unknown pain that worsened throughout the night.  Finally accepting the fact you weren’t getting any sleep you allow your body to fully wake up and once your mind comes back to the waking world, your eyes burst open when you realized what was keeping you from sleep. 

You jolted to a sitting position ripping the furs from your body. Your eyes snapping down and a string of curses leaving your lips and you leap out of bed. The room was  somewhat dark, all the once tall and bright  candlesticks now mere stubs hardly sputtering flames and the fireplace reduced to embers. Yet you could still make out the dark bloodstain, a stark contrast to the white sheets. You are pulled from your panic when you hear soft mumbling and Jace shifting awake. You move quickly and hide the stain covering it with the furs.

“What is it?” He mummers out still half asleep and his voice raspy with sleep.

“It is nothing my love,” you stutter out, failing horribly to conceal the distraught in your tone. “Please just go back to bed.” Though you had succeeded in covering the truth on the bedsheets with the furs, you failed to remember it also seeped through your rather thin and white nightgown.

“If it were nothing then why does your voice-” he pauses mid sentence once his eyes land on you, his mind still not quite in the waking world “what is that on your-”  his eyes then widen in realization and you prayed to all the gods above to end you right there.

Despite being betrothed for two years, it was not until a fortnight ago that you two were married and started to share a marriage bed. Thus there were still a few more intimate and more private things yet to be revealed in your relationship, your moon blood being one of them. While from the very first day you had met Jacaerys he had been nothing but kind and gentle with you, at this moment your insecurities got the better of you making you feel ashamed and embarrassed about your own moon blood. 

Jacaerys was not as savage nor dumb like many of the other men of Westeros when it comes to a woman’s anatomy (something you found out rather quickly on your wedding night). Due to reading and having female family members he was more than aware of what a moon blood was. This however was not enough to prepare him for how it truly looked and he can not help be slightly taken aback. He had been to war, he has  seen men’s heads crushed, animal’s stomachs ripped open, people skins bubble and burn from dragon fire, but seven hells was that a lot of blood for a person who was not injured or cut.

“Oh is that your… you know” He desperately tries to act casual.

His words go through one ear and out the next, not only was the lower part of your nightgown stained with blood but as you sleeped with nothing more than a nightgown the blood also dripped and stained down your legs.

Mayhaps it was the lack of sleep or the raging and unpredictable emotions that always came with your moon blood but your eyes immediately became watery with tears. 

 “Sorry” your voice breaks and you prepare for him to make any signs of disgust or try to pretend he doesn't see anything and go back to bed as you told him early. 

This is more than enough to snap him out of his surprised state, he mentally slaps himself for his initial dumbfounded reaction. He quickly shifts right back to the loving and caring man you know so well and needed more than ever at this moment.

“Hush now my love, there is nothing to apologize for,” he is at your side in an instant “this is a natural part of a woman’s body and you should never apologize for it.” His voice is soft and gentle. Despite his encouraging words he can still see your heart aching and it doesn't help when your arm quickly wraps around your abdomen when a painful cramp surges through. “Come now, let's get you out of that and cleaned up” he says as he reaches for the laces of your nightgown.

You recoil, not because of him but because of yourself. “I am repulsive, I should do it myself”

His face twists in disappointment, his disappointment pointed toward your words not at you. His hands grab your biceps slightly squeezing them in an attempt to stop you from walking away from him and for you to listen to what he had to say.

“Stop that you are anything but, what you are is my queen, my woman and you are mine and i intend to take care of what belongs to me” he ends the sentence with a soft kiss on the forehead before undoing the laces. Once undone he slips it over your head leaving you completely bare, you both instantly noticing how even bloodier in between your thighs were.

“This is a womanly thing, many men would be off-put by this so I will not shame you if you are.” you know he said just a few moments ago it was fine, but seeing blood stains was one thing and seeing its source was a whole other.

“Don’t you dare compare me to those dimwitted fools,” he takes your hand and leads you to the wash basin “a real man will not be fazed by his wife's body functioning  the way it's supposed to.”

Once at the wash basin, he picks up a clean cloth and soap. He kneels in front of you getting to work at cleaning off all the blood, you can feel the tender love and care through his touch. It was quiet the entire time he washed you, but a it was a comfortable silence as you two reached a new level of intimacy.

Jace felt honored that you allowed him to see this side of you. So raw and vulnerable yet you still trusted him and for that , he did not think it was possible, but he fell in love with you more. After the cleaning is done he leans forward pressing a long and gentle kiss where your womb would be.

“Guess what,” he murmurs, his breath felt warm against your skin “Your womb has not been seeded yet.” he stands once more “so that means I can try again and again until my seed starts to bloom in your beautiful garden.” 

He pulls you flush against him and you laugh at his words, his heart swells being able to hear the sound again.

“And once you give birth to our beautiful king or queen  I will plant hundreds more.

You bite on your bottom lip, the insecurity from earlier passing and you feel more bold now.

“Well then what is stopping you from starting now?”

“Nothing my heart” his eyes darkened with love and desire, he lifts you up taking you two to the bed.

[crowsofdarkness]

Truth: One Shot

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 8,799

Content Warnings: language, angst, tiny bit of violence, mentions of death, mentions of drunk driving, alcoholism, and implied smut.

Summary: A next door neighbor bound with secrets; one of which nearly breaks you from the inside out.

-originally posted on my old blog-

I walked up the last few steps towards my apartment, the long and emotional day finally catching up to me. The three hour drive turned into a six hour and with half of my day gone, the thought of climbing into bed brought a soft smile to my lips. The amount of people I had to plaster a fake smile for mentally drained me so I was thankful I didn’t have to see anyone for the next 12 hours until someone undoubtedly face-timed me to check in. 

Grief wasn’t something I expected to deal with overnight and the support was nice when needed. But it had been years since that night, I was at the point in my life where I was ready to finally move on and accept it, even if his family continued to check in every day. 

Whatever joy I felt about being able to quickly slip inside and into my bed left my body when I noticed two guys hanging around the apartment door across from mine, chatting amongst themselves. Internally I groaned when I knew that I wasn’t going to go unnoticed by them. Almost every day one of them would ask for my number or ask to come inside. It never got physical and they accepted no the first time. 

It still bothered me that they tried every day. 

“Hey baby, why the long face?” One of the guys asked. 

Not wanting to deal with any of them today, I ignored them and reached my door in a quick flash, ready to get this interaction over with. However the other guy had stepped in front of me to block me from entering my apartment. 

Unbeknownst to them, I had gripped my car key in between my fingers; to be safe. 

“Please move. I’m not in the mood tonight.” I threatened. 

He licked his lips. “Come on. One night with us will change your mood. I guarantee it.” 

I sliced my eyes into him. “Move. Now.” 

He didn’t budge and the other guy was now lurking behind me. My heart hammered in my chest, not knowing what was to come. The key could only do so much damage with the two of them. 

“Everything alright?” 

I looked over my shoulder and let out a long breath of relief when I saw my next door neighbor leaning against his doorway, concern etched on his face.

“Doesn’t concern you.” The guy behind me said while not taking his eyes off of the back of my head. 

“I think it does,” my neighbor said. 

The guy that was blocking my path inside didn't bother to see who my neighbor was before he spoke up. 

“Man, get back inside. She's fine!”

“She doesn’t look fine.” 

The same guy grabbed my hand, ignoring my neighbor, and led me towards my door giving an extra hard push. 

“Tell him babe, you’re with us.” 

I haven't officially met my neighbor, only seeing him in passing, so I hoped he understood the look of despair I gazed his way. If that didn’t catch on, the way I mouthed ‘help’ should have. 

Before I could register what had happened, my neighbor had the guy behind me on the floor clutching his stomach and the guy in front of me pinned up on the wall, gloved fingers around his throat. By the look of fear in their eyes, it was clear that they finally realized who saved me. 

“I don’t want to see you lurking around here or bothering her again, understand?” 

They guys were out of sight in seconds, not wanting to get on the wrong side of my neighbor again. 

“You alright?” He asked while giving me a quick once over with his intense eyes. 

I nodded, my heart calming down. “Yeah, thank you for that. They always hang around but never got that close before.” 

My neighbor nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” 

He went to walk back into his apartment but my quiet voice stopped him. 

“Thank you again, Mr. Barnes.” 

He turned to face me once again. “You can call me Bucky. I’m around anytime if you need something.” 

We shared a small smile before slipping into our own apartments. 

The quiet solace of my apartment was everything I needed after the absolute hell of a morning I had. I never meant to raise my voice at her, she was hurting too, but she was asking questions that I didn’t even know the answer to. 

“I never said I don’t miss him, Barb. It’s just been so long that I can’t keep dwelling on the what if’s.” 

“How can you say that? Don’t you want to know what happened to him?” 

“Of course I do! But there’s no leads; no answers. I don’t know what else you want from me.” 

“He’s my son, Y/N. I will find out what happened to him whether you want me to or not!”

“He was my husband, Barb! I don’t have any fucking answers on how he died because I don’t know how he died! The cops don’t even know. So stop thinking I’m hiding something from you.” 

My mother in law meant well but she was tired of not having answers to what happened; we all were. But none of us were accusing each other of hiding something. 

I let out a deep, aggravated sigh, while I pinched my eyes shut, hoping it would help the headache that was slamming behind my eyes. My body molded into the couch, hoping that it would ease away the worries I felt. The darkness I saw behind my eyes began to fill with memories that night, hours before he died, and my veins filled with regret knowing that I was the reason he was dead. I kicked him out that night, told him not to come back unless he kicked his habit. 

Alcohol consumed his life and it wasn’t something I could deal with anymore. 

The constant fights because of him staying out all night at the bars or showing up to important things drunk as hell. 

Maybe if I let him stay, he would still be alive. 

I quickly shook those thoughts out of my mind, knowing that even if I did keep him home that night, one way or another he would have still wrapped his car around a tree. 

The only answers the cops could give me was that they believed he was driving drunk. I believed them because I knew the kind of man he was; as much as he loved me, he loved the booze a bit more. 

His mother never wanted to believe that her “precious son” could have those demons so when I told her what happened, she didn’t believe me. 

My phone’s alarm went off with the message laundry and I remembered that I had been working on my laundry when Barb called. 

Making sure my phone and keys were in my pocket, I let my door close behind me as I walked down the long hallway and hung a left, the communal laundry room coming in sight. 

I always chose to do my laundry in the middle of the night because everyone else in the building was asleep so I didn’t have to worry about someone hogging all of the machines. 

So to say I was surprised when I saw someone else in the laundry room was an understatement; mostly because Bucky had his back to me, folding away. I only knew it was him because of the metal fingers that worked to fold a shirt of his. 

“Here I thought I was the only one who did laundry at 3 am,” I smirked while walking past him. 

Bucky gave me his own. “I usually don’t but couldn’t sleep so I figured I might as well get a couple loads done.” 

Realizing that my clothes weren’t quite dry yet, I set them for another cycle before giving Bucky my attention once again. 

“Did I have my t.v to loud? I only moved in six months ago and sometimes forget that these walls are paper thin.” 

He quickly shook his head when he noticed the sorrowful frown pulling my lips. 

“Not at all. Just couldn’t sleep,” Bucky shrugged. 

 There were rumors around the complex of him, some that I opted to pay no mind too but there was one that I did believe; his nightmares. 

The walls were incredibly thin and you can hear a conversation from the person on the other side of the wall. Which meant I had heard Bucky have nightmares once or twice. Given who he was and what he used to do, I couldn’t blame him for having them. 

For a brief moment, our eyes locked and the fire I felt burning in the pits of my stomach with how intense his gaze made me bite the inside of my cheek. I had only seen him in quick passes so never got the chance to actually look at him. His blue eyes were dark, filled with exhaustion, but somehow still shone bright. His stubble that covered the lower half of his face was filled with a few gray hairs, and the long hair that he had when I saw him a few nights ago was gone. 

My mouth fell open. “How did I just notice you cut your hair?” 

Bucky smiled. “Needed something different.” 

“Well you look good. I mean it looks good. Not that you don’t look good, you do but your hair looks good too.”

Words spewed out like vomit before I had the chance to stop it. I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment. It had been so long since I attempted to flirt with someone and the first chance I had, I blew it. 

“I’m just going to glue my lips shut now before I embarrass myself even more.” 

Bucky chuckled while lifting his basket with ease, metal arm twinkling in the overhead light. Some of the other rumors that went around the complex was that people were afraid of him because of his arm. But I always found myself intrigued with it. 

Black with gold lines twisting and turning all around his arm. I wanted to trace it with the tips of my fingers. 

“If you glued them shut then we wouldn’t be able to keep talking,” Bucky said. 

“I’m sure there are other people around here that will be glad to talk to you without embarrassing themselves.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t like talking to them as much.” 

My brow peaked at his comment. “Are you saying you like talking to me?” 

He gave me a wink before walking out of the room while calling over his shoulder. 

“You look good too by the way.” 

The previous heat I felt down below intensified and had to swallow the moan that came crawling out of my throat. This was the second interaction we shared that lasted more than a few seconds and slowly he began taking over my mind where I found myself thinking of what he was doing and how badly I wanted to talk to him or see him. 

“God, I need a bath and a large milkshake,” I groaned to myself as I reached the last step of the floor to my apartment. 

My eight hour shift that started at six this morning became a fifteen hour shift and now that it was reaching close to nine in the evening, I never craved sleep more than I did right now. 

As my door came into view, I quickly noticed that Bucky’s door was open and he was hanging around it, a few people with him. They were chatting amongst themselves and clearly having a good time so I decided not to impose. My head was down as I searched my purse for my keys, trying to go unnoticed. 

“Long day?” 

Bucky stepped away from his group of friends and leaned against my door frame. 

I nodded. “My boss asked me to stay a few extra hours; I couldn't say no.” 

“So I’d assume you’re too tired for a drink?” Bucky asked while stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve got the late shift tomorrow so I want to take advantage of the extra sleep.” I apologized. 

He waved me off, saying he understood. 

“Plus, I wouldn’t want to impose on your friends.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Bucky shook his head. “But if you change your mind, the offer still stands. 

I nodded a quick thanks before I watched him walk back into his apartment, the skinny brunette girl attached to his arm. A twinge of jealousy stirred in my stomach and I let out a gruff groan, knowing that it was ridiculous of me to feel jealous. 

The rest of the night passed with nothing exciting, that was until I had decided to finally go to sleep, only to be kept awake by nightmares of that night. Flashing red and blue lights, his car wrapped around the tree, his body hanging out of the driver's side door with blood pooling from his head, and the sirens being drowned out by my screams. 

I awoke with a scream, it echoed throughout my apartment, and my chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. It had been so long since I had dreamed of that night but it was still as raw as that night. 

Once I had calmed down, I finally could hear what was coming from the wall behind me. The headboard banging against the wall in the apartment next door only getting drowned out by the moaning of what could only be described as ecstasy. 

But as soon as I heard it, it ceased being replaced by hushed voices. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“Why’d you stop? I was so close.” 

“I think the scream came from Y/N’s place.” 

“Bucky, come on. I’m only in town for tonight. Don’t waste it on someone else. I’m sure that person is fine.”

Damn these thin walls. 

With a quick jump from my bed, I tossed on a sweater and sweatpants before climbing onto my balcony through my large bedroom window, allowing the fall night air to calm my racing thoughts. I don't know who I thought was on the other side of the wall, clearly that was Bucky’s room and there was a brunette clinging to him when they walked back into his apartment. 

It still stung to see someone else with him. 

Why does it matter to you? You’re not even on his radar. 

I shook the thought from my mind and looked up into the sky, hoping to see some stars. Why I ever moved to New York, I never understood. With the noise and lights, trying to look up to the night sky for some peace was inevitable. 

Tears fell and I ghastly wiped them away as I thought back to my nightmare, visions of him lying there in death, all alone. Soft sobs fell from my lips and shoulders shook with despair and hatred that I allowed him to leave that night. 

“Everything alright?” 

I slightly jumped at the voice and saw Bucky leaning against the shared railings of our balcony, a beer bottle loosely hanging between his fingers. 

“Yeah,” I nodded while avoiding his gaze. 

Thankfully it was dark out here so he wasn’t able to see my tear stained cheek. Between the nightmares and hearing Bucky having sex with someone else, I was a wreck. 

I wasn’t sure why the thought or image of him with someone else bothered me so much. This feeling was unknown, something I hadn’t felt in so long; since before my husband. Maybe that’s why I felt like this, guilty for it being because of another guy. 

You fancy him, dumbass. 

Blinking away the thought, I leaned deeper into the chair and closed my eyes, enjoying the breeze. 

“Anything I can help with?” Bucky questioned. 

“I don’t want to keep you from your company.” 

He quickly shook his head. “You’re not.” 

“I’m fine, Bucky. I just couldn’t sleep,” I kept my eyes trained on the chipped away  nail polish on my fingers. 

The curtness in my voice didn’t go unnoticed by him. “I heard a scream-.” 

“Bucky, there you are! What are you doing out here, it’s freezing!” 

Both of our eyes landed on the woman that had slinked her way next to Bucky, a hand on his back and a soft kiss to his cheek. 

My heart fell deep into my stomach and I let out a shaky breath to try and compose myself. I didn’t want to cry again, not in front of them. 

“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m talking with Y/N,” Bucky nodded towards me. 

I shook my head while standing to my feet. “I was actually about to head to bed. See you around.” 

“Perfect, let's go Bucky.” 

The brunette linked fingers with him, purposely avoiding his metal hand, and tried to drag him inside. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bucky wondered. 

I nodded, trying to hold the tears back but Bucky could see right through my facade and told the brunette he would meet her inside. Reluctantly she nodded and soon it was the two of us again. 

“She seems nice,” I motioned towards where she was previously standing. “Sounds like you two had a good night.” 

Bucky’s face fell when he realized what I was talking about. “You heard?” 

“Thin walls.” 

He cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, we’re usually more quiet.” 

“Oh, so this isn’t a one time thing?” I wondered. 

“Does it matter?” He asked. 

But then the confusion was replaced with humor, a sly smirk pulling at his lips. His elbows leaned against the railing, his face coming closer to me. We were so close now I was afraid he could tell that I had been crying so I kept my gaze trained hard to the floor beneath my feet. 

A cool metal finger lifted my chin and I sucked in a breath when I drank in his gaze, so powerful and moving. 

“Are you jealous?” 

My lips parted, unsure of how to answer mostly because I didn’t even know if that’s what I was feeling. But I did recognize one feeling and was coursing through me; comfort. 

It was a simple action, his finger lifting my chin, but that had been the first contact I’ve felt in so long that it almost over took me, the tears pooling at the corner of my eyes. 

“No,” I finally answered. 

Bucky snorted, not believing me. Whatever witty comment he had was gone when tears fell from my eyes, concern clouding his gaze. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His hands now cupped my face. 

I shook my head in his grasp. “I’m fine.” 

“Y/N,” he urged. “You can talk to me.” 

My eyes refused to meet him, knowing that if they locked, I would melt into him and tell him everything. He didn’t need that, though. He could have been dealing still with his own trauma, I wasn’t going to pour mine on top of it. I had been dealing with it on my own for so long, I could continue too.  

I breathed, feeling his pinkies gently trace circles in the back of my head getting tangled in my hair. The slight action caused a quiet moan to fall from my lips. 

Not a sexual moan but a need for more affection. 

Bucky seemed to have understood so with his metal fingers he ran them fully through my hair and begged me with soft whispers to look at him. 

I obliged. 

His blue eyes bore down at me and with his touch, I felt myself crumble into him, my hands slowly grazing up his chest to his shoulders. I was ready to let it all go, let him in. 

Until her voice sounded behind us once again. 

“What the hell?” 

Bucky turned to look at the brunette, ready to explain himself but before he had the chance, I slipped out of grasp with fresh tears falling. 

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. 

His pleas to come back meant nothing as I slipped back inside, shutting the window behind me. 

The buzzing from my phone on my end table meant nothing as I turned my back to it, adjusting a new position on my bed. With my blankets pulled up to my chin, another broken sob fell as the water from my eyes continued to stain my pillow case. 

I knew who was blowing up my phone, I didn’t need to check. 

Bucky had found my number from the apartment phone book the other day and he had been trying to get into contact with me to see how I was doing. 

It had been almost a week since that night on my balcony and I had done everything I could to avoid him. Not sure why I felt I needed too, he only was trying to help. 

Truth be told, the memories of my husband and his accident had caused me to go into a dark place, not wanting to leave my apartment let alone my bed. Since I moved to New York, I was alone, no one to share in my grief with which is why whenever a wave crashed over me, I fucking drowned in it. 

When the buzzing phone finally ceased, I breathed a sigh of relief and forced my eyes to shut in hopes of letting the dark slumber take it. 

Three persistent knocks to my window caused my eyes to spring open and when I saw Bucky sitting on the other side, I groaned. 

“Leave me alone!” I yelled, fully engulfing myself in my blankets now. 

The sound of the window opening and a large body all but crashing inside made me sit up in bed, brow perked in confusion. Bucky was standing in my bedroom now with a concerned gaze. 

“You know for a former assassin, you’re not that quiet when breaking into someone’s apartment,” I stated. 

He shrugged. “I thought about knocking on your door but figured you wouldn’t answer.” 

I nodded. “You thought right. Feel free to leave that way though.”

My back was turned to him as I laid down in bed again, pulling the blanket to my chin. Bucky didn’t need to say anything, his warm presence was still felt behind me. I let out an annoyed groan before turning to face him again and it was then that I took in appearance for the first time. Gray sweatpants and a tight black shirt that hugged every inch of his chest and torso. His metal arm twinkled under the soft glow from the lamp in the corner of my room. 

Even in somewhat darkness, he looked breathtaking. 

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” I questioned. 

When he shook his head, I reluctantly sat up and motioned for him to sit; he hesitated. 

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be inviting you in my bed right now,” I stated. 

Realizing I had a point, he finally relaxed and sat on the edge of my bed. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” 

“You didn’t,” I reassured him with a small smile. “I’ve been dealing with some things lately, that’s all.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky suggested. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip, debating whether or not it was a good idea to talk to him about my problems. I didn’t want him to think less of me because of them. 

You know he wouldn’t. 

“I don’t want to keep you,” I began. “Especially if you’ve got company.” 

Bucky immediately shook his head. “That’s over, I promise. You’re the only one that has my attention.” 

My heart soared with his words and the redness that crept from my cheeks to the tips of my ears didn’t go unnoticed by him. I let out a deep breath to gain whatever courage I could and wondered where to start. 

“I, uh, was married.” 

Bucky’s body tensed at my words so I gently laid a hand on his knee. “Was. Not anymore.” 

He relaxed with my touch. 

“My husband, Rick, died about eight years ago. Next month actually,” I admitted. 

His face fell. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’ve done my best to move on, try to create this new life without him. Which is why I moved here. I thought a fresh start would help.” 

“Why did you wait so long to leave?” Bucky asked. 

“My mother in law. We only had each other and I never found the right time to leave. But the grief and questions became too much to bear so I had to stop thinking about how she felt and start taking care of myself.” 

I almost didn't notice Bucky slip his flesh fingers between mine as I continued to tell my story. 

Almost. 

“She was so hell bent on finding the truth on what happened that her accusations pushed me away.” 

“With his death?” Bucky questioned. 

I let out a low sob. “Yeah. He-uh-he was driving drunk one night and crashed his car into a tree.”

My body shook with fresh tears as the memories began replaying like an old movie in the back of my mind, the wounds tearing open once again. 

Bucky had snuck up next to me, wrapping his arms around me to pull me into his chest. I seeped into him, allowing his soft words of comfort to ease my pain. 

“The images of him hanging out of his car haunt me to this day. I can't go to sleep without seeing him, bloody and cold,” I cried into his chest, hands grasping at his shirt. 

He didn’t say anything, he didn't have too. If anyone understood how I felt, it was Bucky. His large hand rubbed circles on my back while I continued to sob, finally letting go for the first time in so long. I didn’t realize how bad I needed someone to just listen to my problems and comfort me, not criticize how I feel or accuse me of keeping secrets about Rick’s death. 

“His mother blames me,” I muttered into Bucky’s chest. 

“Why?” 

I pulled slightly away from him and looked up into his eyes; they were clouded in sorrow. He cupped my cheek and with his metal thumb wiped the tears away, the coolness of it easing the redness caused by my cries. 

“I couldn’t deal with his drinking any longer. It was ruining our marriage so I told him that he  needed to leave and only come back when he was sober. Rick’s mom didn’t want to believe that he had those demons but he did. I held onto him for so long that I couldn’t take care of him any longer.” 

“He got so good at hiding when he was drunk that I had no idea he was that night. Maybe if I had known, he would still be-.” 

“Hey,” Bucky lifted my chin up to meet his gaze. “You cannot blame yourself for his actions, okay? None of what happened is your fault.” 

I wasn’t so sure if he was talking to me or more so himself. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that knew about The Winter Soldier's past that Bucky had so much trouble not blaming himself for what he did during that time. 

My head pounded from all the crying and I had nothing left in me, emotionally, so all I could do was nod in his grasp. 

“I’m here to help you with whatever you need to get past that guilt, alright?” 

I nodded again. “Thank you, Bucky.” 

He responded by pulling me into his chest once again, allowing me to ease into his comforting touch as he continued to run circles over my back. 

Time had passed, the two of us locked together with my sobs being replaced with constant yawn after yawn. 

Bucky began to pull away. “I’ll let you get some sleep.” 

I squeezed him a bit, not ready to let go. “Few more minutes? I haven't felt this kind of comfort in so long. It’s nice.” 

His lips brushed the top of my head and I melted into him again, my heart beating so hard against my chest I knew not only could he feel it, Bucky could hear it as well. 

“Take all the time you need, doll.” 

My heart fucking soared at the pet name. 

Our laughter bounced off the walls of the complex as Bucky and I both ascended up the staircase towards home. I had been on my way home from work when I bumped into him one block away, with a bouquet of fresh flowers grasped between his metal fingers. 

“You mentioned that you had a rough day at work so I thought these would make it better.” 

His words from when I questioned him about them brought a smile back to my face. 

Ever since that night last month where I told him about Rick, we had grown incredibly close. He was there for me when the nightmares got bad or I needed someone to talk to; with me also returning the favor. 

Even if he was in therapy to deal with his past, I was still by his side to lend an extra ear and a comforting hold. 

If anyone was to ask what we were, I would tell the truth; friends. 

That love to steal longing glances, the occasional flirty banter, and fingers lingering on one's skin longer than normal. 

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to get me flowers, Buck,” I reiterated my words from earlier. 

He shrugged as we turned the corner of the hallway, our apartments coming into view. 

“Anything to bring a beautiful smile to your face,” he mused while throwing an arm over my shoulder. . 

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” I giggled while patting his chest. 

My feet came to a halt when I saw the lone figure leaning against my door, arms crossed in what appeared to be one thing. 

Anger. 

“Barb, hi. What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. 

She shook her head. “Eight years. Today.” 

My heart dropped. Bucky had been such a good thing in my life lately that I had forgotten Rick’s death anniversary was today. 

“Oh.” I muttered. 

Barb scoffed. “That’s all you have to say? What would Rick have to say about this?”

She motioned towards Bucky who still had his arm around me so he quietly slipped away and tried to leave but I gently grasped his arm to stop him. 

“I can go. I’ll talk to you later,” he suggested. 

While I shook my head, Barb’s demeaning voice spoke again. 

“I think that’s a good idea. She doesn’t need you right now.” 

My eyes snapped over towards her. “Excuse me? What gives you the right to speak to him like that?” 

“Doll, it’s alright.” 

“Doll?!” Barb shrieked. “How long has this been going on? What would Rick think?” 

I shook my head in disbelief. “Nothing because he’s dead Barb. Has been for a long time.” 

“I cannot believe you’ve moved on already. He was your husband for god sakes! He loved you dearly and this is how you repay him? Fucking the first man that touched you.” 

Anger radiated off of me, Bucky noticing the way my breath became erratic so he gently laced our fingers together and nodded towards his door. 

“Come on, let’s get inside.” 

In our many talks I had mentioned a few times about how demeaning and cruel my mother in law could be but I put up with it for years because I was married to her son. The constant belittlement from her had knocked me down to my lowest and now that I was finally starting to feel better about everything thanks to his help, Bucky refused to let me get back to that low. 

I held him back with a shake of my head before giving Barb my attention. “I don’t know why you came here. Like I said on the phone last week, I still don’t have the answers you’re looking for, Barb. Whether you want to believe it or not, your son was an alcoholic and it was his actions that night that killed him. I know it’s not easy to hear but Rick is gone and your quest to find answers to questions that don’t exist isn't going to bring him back.” 

Barb shook her head, looking at me bewildered. “No. There’s a witness that was there that night. They said they saw someone in the road before RIck crashed. He swerved so he wouldn’t hit them. Not the lies you’ve been saying!” 

“I’m not lying about anything!” I snapped, mouth ready to spew hateful things towards her. 

Bucky squeezed my hand as if he could read my mind, knowing what I was about to say. 

I took a deep breath to calm myself, knowing that no matter what I said to her Barb would never change her mind. She could never see her son in such a negative light. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Barb. But I know that I can’t keep doing this with you; Rick wouldn’t want this. As much as we loved each other, he wanted me to move on. We talked about it all the time that if something happened to one of us that the other wouldn’t dwell on the heartbreak. He had demons, he tried to drown them with alcohol but they knew how to swim.” 

Tears pricked my eyes. “Rick would want me to be happy, to find love with someone else. He would want the same for you.” 

Without another word, I let Bucky lead me inside of his apartment, ready to finally leave Barb in my past. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky questioned once inside. 

I sat on his couch with a soft groan and nodded. “Yeah, it needed to be said. I hate that it took so long though.”

Bucky trekked around his apartment placing the flowers in a vase then grabbing a beer for him and a glass of water for me. I smiled a thanks as he sat next to me, his hand placed on my knee. “I’m sorry for what she said to you,” I frowned. 

He shrugged. “It's nothing you need to apologize for, doll.” 

With his flesh hand on my knee and the metal one lounged on the top of the couch, his fingers inches from my face, I began tracing the gold lines, mesmerized by the design. Before when I would look or touch it, Bucky would flinch because he was afraid of how I would react to it. 

“I don’t understand how you’re not afraid of it,” Bucky wondered. 

“The way I see it,” I began while linking our fingers together, “This arm was your fresh start. Your old one did all of those horrible things and this one has done so much good, you can’t let the weight of the old one hold you back.” 

A smile pulled wide on his face. “Who needs therapy when that advice is free.” 

I giggled with a wink. “Plus, I come with some extra perks.” 

Bucky smiled smugly with his eyes turning dark. “Care to explain what those perks are?

My lips went dry and I rolled my tongue over them, hoping it would help. The intense gaze I felt from Bucky was enough to lock me into place on his couch with my hands now in my lap clasped together in hopes they stopped shaking with nerves. 

They didn't. 

There was something between us, that wasn’t a question. But what exactly, I wasn’t too sure. We would flirt back and forth and have some small touches here and there but that’s all it was. Neither of us were brave enough to take the next step in this relationship. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip while staring in Bucky’s eyes and I noticed the way his breath caught in his throat, unable to move as I slowly, oh so agonizingly slow, closed the distance between us. Meters from his lips, I hesitated though, my warm breath fanning over his plump lips. This close I could see how pink and full they were, practically begging to be kissed; ravished.

Lips parted and ghosting over each other, I could feel the softness against mine and when I glanced up into his gaze I noticed Bucky’s pupils were blown with desire. 

Fuck it. 

I crashed my lips to his in a slow but firm kiss, testing to see if he wanted this as much as I did. Soon we began to meld together, his hands gripping my hips while mine found his broad shoulders, nails digging slightly. He hissed against my lips, the sensation burning low in my core when he repaid the favor by digging his own nails into the bare skin of my back. 

I nibbled on his bottom lip, begging to taste him, and his tongue slipped between my lips, exploring every inch of my mouth and I groaned when the heat expanded from my core all the way to my head, making me dizzy. 

Our breathing had become ragged with desire, wanting to feel every single inch of each other's bodies. Bucky’s flesh hand tangled in my hair while his metal hand lifted me with ease into his lap, sprawling his fingers over the plump of my ass. My own hands ran down his chest, down his stomach to ghost over the belt of his pants before they snaked underneath his shirt, the skin of his stomach hot with lust. 

“Bucky,” I moaned into his mouth when I felt his hips press into mine. 

The hardness of his cock pressed against the confines of his jeans and a low groan echoed into his mouth when he pressed up against my heated core again. 

Bucky’s lips left mine to start biting and nipping at the skin of my neck while I rutted slowly but firm into him. My hands gripped and pulled at his shirt, yanking it off of his head in a snap. I felt him tense under me as my eyes glazed over where the skin and metal of his arm met, the scars still looked fresh to this day. 

I left soft, pepper-like kisses over each scar, letting him know that it didn't bother me. 

“Bucky,” I breathed his name once again. “I need you.” 

He spewed a few curses into the crook of my neck before finally pulling away, locking our lust blown pupils together. “Are you sure about this?” 

I traced a finger down his cheek and scratched at the stubble on his face. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

That was all he needed before tossing me over his shoulder, and carrying me to his bedroom. 

The coolness from his metal fingers felt almost orgasmic on hot skin as we laid next to each other in bed, in a post-climax haze. Bucky’s fingers traced my spine from the top to bottom, over and over again, and he would leave light feathery kisses where his fingers missed. 

It had been a couple weeks since our first kiss and we had been spending most of our time in his apartment since he had the bigger bed but tonight he surprised me by sneaking into my window while I was asleep, wrapping me in a warm embrace. 

“For an ex assassin, you’re still not that quiet,” I muttered into his warm chest. 

“I missed you,” he breathed into my hairline. 

We then proceeded to spend the next hour tangled in between one another. 

Our relationship had blossomed in those few days even if we had decided to take things slow, not needing to rush or put a label on it quite yet. Even though we both knew how we felt about one another. 

His soft lips left the skin of my back and found its new mark on my neck, Bucky continuing the mark he began earlier. 

“Bucky, I’m so tired,” I whined, playfully smacking him away. 

With a fake groan of annoyance, he pulled away not before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 

“I’m going to grab a glass of water then I’ll come back to bed.” 

The dark slumber was within my grasp, fingers dancing towards it, so all I could do was nod in response. The bed shifted with the sudden change in weight and I wrapped the blanket around me, allowing the darkness to fully engulf me but only to be yanked from it a short time later by the sound of glass breaking. 

“Babe, you alright?” 

Silence. 

“Bucky?” 

More silence. 

Pulling my brows together with confusion, I quickly dressed myself in Bucky’s shirt that he had worn over here and walked into the main living space of my apartment expecting to see Bucky cleaning up whatever broke. 

However, I only saw the broken glass from a cup and a picture face down on the ground next to my couch. 

“What the-?” I muttered while picking it up. 

My heart sank when I saw what picture it was; Rick and I on our wedding day. 

I mentally smacked myself because I thought I had taken down whatever was left of Rick in my apartment when Bucky and I started seeing each other. It wasn’t fair to him that I still had pictures or mementos of a past love up. 

“Fucking dumbass. No wonder why he left,” I cursed to myself. 

I scurried back into my room and reached for my phone, typing out a message. 

I’m sorry that you saw that picture. I thought I packed everything up. Can you come back so I can make it up to you?

A few minutes went by with no response so I sent another message. 

Or I can come over there if that’s alright. 

A few more minutes went by with no response from Bucky so with an aggravated groan, I tossed my phone onto my bed with myself falling close behind. 

“Way to fucking blow it, Y/N,” I grumbled while running my hands over my face. 

Two days. Two fucking days Bucky had been ignoring my texts, calls, and persistent knocks to his door. I had been a wave of different emotions the last two days; Anger, confusion, and hurt; mostly hurt. 

I never knew that Bucky had an issue about my past marriage since I talked about it openly with him so much and he helped me heal that part of mind and heart, moving on completely from it; with him. 

The time we spent together was some of the best parts of my life and I would be a fool to say that it meant nothing to me. Bucky had become an important person in my life and the mere thought of losing him forever weighed heavy on my heart. 

A heart that took so long to mend from past heartbreak and loss. A heart that took forever to find that perfect someone to pick up the pieces, make it feel whole; loved. 

I sat up in bed with a start, the blankets falling from my body, when I was slammed with the sudden realization; it hit me so hard I almost fell right back into my bed. 

I was in love with Bucky. 

And I wasn’t going to let him get away. 

Throwing whatever clothes on I could find, I was standing in front of Bucky’s door in less than a minute, knuckles rapidly knocking with no end in sight. 

“Bucky, can you please open the door?” I called through the thick piece of wood. “I really need to talk to you.” 

More knocking followed by more begging. 

“I’m not going anywhere until you let me inside,” I informed him with crossed arms and all of my weight perched on my left foot. 

“Do I have to pull some ex assassin bullshit and sneak in through your window?” 

The door in front of me opened revealing a very tired looking Bucky and I cringed when I remembered that it was almost four a.m. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize what time it was.” I apologized. 

Bucky simply nodded. “It’s alright.” 

He went to shut the door again but I blocked it with an angry hand. “You’re not going to shut me out again. For two fucking days you’ve been ignoring me with no explanation.” 

“Y/N, please-.” 

“No!” I shot. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you but I don’t deserve to be shut out like this especially after everything we’ve gone through and the things I’ve told you.”

Bucky ran a hand over the subtle on his cheek before nodding, allowing the door to open a bit more with me slipping inside before he could change his mind. I was in such a rush to tell him how I felt that I hadn’t noticed his sleeping attire; a pair of very tight black briefs and his hair was a tousled mess of slumber. 

As breathtaking as he looked, Bucky needed to know how I felt. 

“Did I do something wrong? I know you found that picture of Rick and I.” 

He was quick to dismay my worry. “It wasn’t about the picture.” 

My shoulders raised with confusion. “Then what is bothering you? Is it me, are you over us?” 

“No, doll, trust me.” He hesitated to reach for me. 

“Then tell me why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me?!” I snapped, voice raised in anger. 

“I can’t,” Bucky shook his head, refusing. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I scoffed. 

He was in fact not kidding with the stern face he bore. 

“God, I’m so stupid!” I covered my face with my hands. “I let myself open up to you, let you in my life when I needed someone the most, trusted you with my heart and you ripped it away from me. Right when I started to fall in love with you.” 

Bucky blinked. “Wh-what did you say?” 

Tears pricked my eyes. “I love you, Bucky.” 

“Doll,” he breathed, unsure of what to say next. 

“You don’t feel the same,” I nodded to myself, realizing what his silence meant. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

Hasty wiping away the tears, I stormed past him only to be stopped by his metal fingers grasping at my wrist, pulling me into his chest. His lips crashed onto mine in a powerful kiss, tongues quickly finding each other in starvation for each others taste. 

We shared many kisses but this one was different; it was the kind that made you fall to your knees with dizziness. 

A good kind of dizzy. 

“I love you too,” he pressed into my lips. 

My heart jumped into my throat as his revelation. “Then why have you been ignoring me?” 

Bucky stepped back slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s something I need to tell you. I wish I would have told you sooner, it might have saved you.” 

“Save me from what?” 

“Falling in love with me,” he linked our fingers together and set me down on the couch. 

We sat with our knees touching and my heart was hammering so loud in my chest I knew Bucky could hear it. My mind raced a million miles a minute with different thoughts of what he had to tell me. 

“The reason why I left the other night was because when I saw that picture, memories came flooding back, almost over taking me,” Bucky began. 

“Memories? Of what?” I pressed. 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in clear distress. “I know what happened to Rick.” 

I nodded. “Yeah because I told you. He was driving drunk.” 

He disagreed with me. “He wasn’t drunk that night.” 

I looked at him with confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

With one last deep breath, Bucky fully confessed to his past transgression. 

“Rick wasn’t drunk that night. He was sober and driving to meet with the head of the local Hydra group. I don’t know what Rick told you he did for work but whatever it was was a lie. Rick was hired by SHIELD to take back the super soldier serum I had stolen back in the 90’s.” 

My eyes blinked with disbelief. “You’re lying.” 

“I wish I was, doll. I knew who killed Rick.” 

“Who?” I asked, afraid of knowing the truth. 

Bucky hesitated, breath getting caught in his throat, before he spoke with broken words. “The Winter Soldier. And that was me.” 

His bottom lip trembled the same time his nose scrunched up his disgust for his previous actions. 

My whole world came crashing down from the heavens, falling into large pieces of debris around me. My heart was ringing in my ears that I swore I misheard Bucky. Everything I thought I knew about Rick’s death was a lie? Had Barb been right this whole time?

“No,” I stood to my feet with a start. “You’re fucking with me.” 

Bucky reached for my hand but I snatched it away, a look of hurt flashed across his face. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t have a choice,” his broken voice begged me to understand. 

I stopped pacing. “How’d you do it?” 

Bucky refused to answer, only standing to try and get me to stop moving. Anger spilled out of me and I pushed his shoulders to force him back onto the couch. 

“How did you do it?!” I seethed. 

His tongue rolled over his dry lips. “I got in the way of his car so he would have to swerve out of the way. When he crashed, I had to make it look like he was drinking so I injected him with alcohol so it looked like he had been drinking all night.” 

“No,” I sobbed. “This whole time I thought he was at a bar getting fucking wasted and was on his way home when he was actually sober!” 

Bucky flinched but kept his eyes trained at his shaking hands. 

“You fucking left him there to die!” I screamed. “You could have saved him!” 

Bucky was on his feet now, shaking his head rapidly. “It wasn’t me, doll. I swear.” 

“But you still did it!” 

I shoved his chest, hard, and he stumbled back a bit but kept his stance. 

“I wish I never did, Y/N. If I could take back everything I did when I was The Winter Soldier, I would; you know that,” he begged me to listen. 

Sobs plowed through my body causing me to shake and fall to my knees with the truth of what happened that night. The man that I found myself falling in love with had killed my husband. How do you get past that? 

But it wasn’t him. He had no choice.

I screamed at the voice in my mind, telling it to shut up. 

“Doll,” Bucky knelt down to reach for me. 

My fist collided with his cheek knocking him onto his ass and rage took over my vision as I straddled his hips, landing blow after blow to whatever part of flesh I could hit; face, head, neck, chest, stomach, and flesh arm. 

Bucky never stopped me, allowed me to hurt him; try to anyway. The super soldier serum that flowed through his blood every day made it so it felt like he was getting slapped by the wind. 

“Fuck you, Barnes! I hate you!,” I bellowed while going to attack his metal arm. 

In a swift movement, I was now being straddled by Bucky who had both of my hands pinned above my head with his metal fingers gripped tight. Tears fell from his eyes onto the skin of my neck and his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

I writhed in his grasp, trying to break free. “I do! You’re a monster, I hate you!” 

When the words left my lips, I immediately regretted them. I knew that he wasn’t a monster, I was only angry at his revelation. I never meant to call him that. Whatever anger I had spilled out of my body through the floor beneath me and I tried to break free once again from Bucky, to reach for him. 

“I didn’t mean it,” I cried. 

He nodded before pulling me into his chest, arms now wrapped around me. He hushed my cries with whispers of sorrow and promised to make it right; make everything right with me and us again. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

My hands clutched at the muscles of his back, my own words being muffled by his chest. 

How could anything be right with us again with me now knowing the truth? Nothing would ever be the same. 

[loveesiren]

𝖥𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 (𝖯𝗍. 4)

Thanos x american!reader | Forever Masterlist

a/n: This is the final part of Forever! Or atleast the main part :) I'll still be writing for these two so let me know if you have any requests for them! Thanks so much for enjoying this series :)

synopsis: After everything that has happened, Y/n finally feels like she can begin to heal and move forward with her life. She is grateful for her new friends and boyfriend starring in this next chapter of her life.

warnings: language, quick smut, canon divergence, fluff :)

wc: 4.7k+

Two weeks at your grandmother’s house had been both a blessing and a test of patience. You adored your Halmeoni and were endlessly grateful for her unwavering love and hospitality, but you were beginning to feel the itch to return to your own space. She had welcomed Se-mi, Min-su, and Thanos with open arms, her joy evident in the way she doted on everyone. After losing her husband, son, and grandson, you were all she had left, and it was clear that having a full house again brought her an unexpected kind of comfort.

For Halmeoni, the bustle of activity filled a void she’d silently carried for years. She thrived on looking after her “kids,” as she called you, eagerly cooking up elaborate meals and bossing everyone around with the kind of endearing authority only a grandmother could manage. It didn’t matter that two of those “kids” were fully grown men—Min-su and Thanos followed her orders as if they were back in grade school, mostly because they loved seeing her smile.

She had set up Min-su and Thanos in the living room with makeshift beds, fluffing their pillows and insisting they eat a second helping of dinner before settling in. Thanos had gotten a free pass to share your bed the first night, but Halmeoni quickly put a stop to that.

“Not under my roof,” she’d said sternly, wagging a finger at you. “Not unless that purple-haired monster puts a ring on your finger!” Her tone was firm, but the twinkle in her eye betrayed her affection for him. The nickname stuck—“purple-haired monster”—and Thanos wore it like a badge of honor.

You and Se-mi, on the other hand, shared your childhood bedroom. It was surreal, almost like stepping into a time capsule. The walls were still painted a faded lavender, and the bookshelf held relics of your younger self—dusty paperbacks, old trophies, and trinkets you’d collected over the years. Sharing that space with Se-mi felt like a gift. Growing up, you’d never had a best friend, and now, staying up late talking about everything and nothing, you felt like you were finally making up for lost time.

The two of you would huddle under the covers, whispering secrets and playing your favorite songs on your phone, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the room. When Halmeoni finally fell asleep, you’d tiptoe out to the living room, heart pounding with the thrill of sneaking around like a teenager.

Thanos would already be awake, waiting for you with a sleepy smile. His arms opened as you slid onto the couch beside him, and for an hour or two, the world shrank down to just the two of you. Min-su’s soft snores from the other couch provided the perfect soundtrack as you whispered sweet nothings, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. Before the sun rose, you’d steal one last kiss and sneak back to your room, feeling like you’d unlocked a part of yourself you hadn’t known was missing.

But the truth was, you weren’t teenagers anymore. You were all in your twenties, and the time had come to reclaim your independence. While you cherished the warmth and care Halmeoni had lavished on you, you were ready to return to the chaos of your small, cramped apartment—a place where you could be loud, messy, and completely yourselves without judgment.

The morning of your departure was a flurry of activity. Halmeoni insisted on packing containers of leftover food, shoving them at Min-su, piling them so high in his arms he could barely see over the top. She tried one last time to convince Se-mi to take out her piercings, her voice laced with exasperation and love. And she turned her attention to Thanos, pulling him aside for a quiet word.

“You take care of her, you hear me?” she said, her hands resting firmly on his shoulders. “She’s my only treasure.”

“I will,” Thanos promised, his voice low and sincere. The two of them had developed an unlikely bond during the past two weeks, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him bending slightly to match her height, listening to her every word like a dutiful grandson.

These people were your family now—the only family you had left—and you couldn’t imagine life without them.

Your mother was arrested the night she had shown up at your grandmother's house. Not only for public intoxication but for an illegal relationship with a North Korean inmate, Nam-gyu’s father. The secrets of your family were all out in the open now and it hurt. But it also filled the void in some strange way. You finally felt like you could begin to move forward in life. 

In the week that followed, things began to shift. Min-su and Se-mi started reconnecting with their families, often spending afternoons out visiting their parents and siblings. Seeing them rediscover those relationships brought you a quiet kind of happiness, even as it left you and Thanos alone in the apartment more often.

Those afternoons with him became your favorite moments—uninterrupted hours where you could simply exist together. Whether you were lounging on the couch, cooking dinner side by side, curled up in bed talking about your dreams for the future, or tangled together in your sheets as he pulled multiple orgasms from you.

-

The moment the apartment door clicked shut, Thanos was on you, his hands gripping your waist like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. Between two agonizing weeks of stolen glances and fleeting touches at your grandmother’s house and spending days out with your friends exploring Seoul, you both had been on edge, craving each other with an intensity that bordered on madness. Now, finally alone in your tiny apartment, there was nothing to hold either of you back.

He kissed you with a hunger that made your knees weak, his lips trailing down your neck as he guided you backward toward the bed. Clothes were discarded hastily, your laughter mingling with the sound of fabric hitting the floor. By the time your bare skin pressed against the sheets, his mouth was on you again, exploring every inch of you like it was the first time.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough with desire.

His hands roamed over your body, strong and commanding yet achingly tender. He touched you like he was savoring a work of art, every brush of his fingers igniting sparks that spread through your veins. The anticipation alone was enough to make you tremble, but when he finally pushed himself inside of you, a moan escaped your lips that could have shaken the walls.

“God, I fucking love you…” he panted into your ear, his breath hot and uneven as his hips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he drove into you, his intensity stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, your nails dragging down his back as he buried himself deeper. He filled you completely, his every thrust pulling soft, desperate cries from your lips. You were losing yourself in him, the world outside the two of you dissolving into nothingness.

“I love you, Su-Bong,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked into his eyes, your heart laid bare.

Hearing his real name fall from your lips made him falter, his rhythm breaking as a deep groan escaped him. “Fuck…” he growled, the sound vibrating against your skin. The sheer intimacy of that moment pushed you both over the edge, and with one final thrust, he came undone, his body shuddering against yours.

He pressed his lips to yours in a lingering kiss before collapsing beside you, both of you panting as the sweat cooled on your skin. You turned to rest your head on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. His arm draped over you protectively, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back.

For a while, the two of you lay in contented silence, the weight of the world kept at bay by the warmth of each other’s presence. Finally, he broke the quiet, his voice soft and thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about something…”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your fingers trailing over the ridges of his chest. “What’s that?”

“Well…” He hesitated, his lips curving into a small smile. “You know I have my place downtown…”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, recalling the times he’d casually mentioned it. He’d always said you, Se-mi, and Min-su were welcome there, but you’d never given it much thought. Your little apartment felt like home—a chaotic, messy, wonderful home.

“I’d love for you to come see it,” he continued cautiously. “Maybe we could even stay there. Together.”

The suggestion made your heart race, a mix of excitement and apprehension flooding your senses. You’d been living together for the past three weeks in an unspoken, unofficial way. But moving into his place downtown? That felt monumental, like crossing a line you couldn’t uncross.

“I, uh…” you started, your voice faltering. Thinking about how much loss you’d endured. What if that happened again?

Thanos watched you carefully, his gaze filled with hope and vulnerability. He wanted to give you everything—a life of comfort and joy, a place where you could be free from worry. In his mind, he saw a future filled with late nights in front of a roaring fireplace, a spacious closet for all the clothes he wanted to buy you, and lazy mornings wrapped in each other’s arms on a bed far larger than the one you currently shared.

Before you could gather your thoughts, the sound of the apartment door swinging open shattered the moment.

“Whoaaa, our bad!” Se-mi’s voice rang out, followed by her laughter. She quickly spun Min-su around, ushering him back toward the door as he muttered something about how they “really didn’t need to see that.”

Thanos groaned, yanking the covers over the two of you, while you scrambled to sit up, your face burning with embarrassment. “Let’s talk about this later…” you whispered, fumbling to find your clothes in the pile on the floor.

Thanos chuckled softly, leaning back against the headboard as he watched you with a lazy, satisfied grin. “We will,” he said, his voice a quiet promise.

Though your heart was still pounding from the interruption, part of you couldn’t help but wonder about the life he was offering. A place that was all yours, a new chapter with the man who had completely stolen your heart. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take that leap.

-

Later that night, after dinner, the small apartment buzzed with laughter and the faint clinking of glass as Thanos and Min-su dove headfirst into a spirited debate over American football. The half-empty bottle of soju between them stood as a testament to the evening’s indulgence.

“Look, I’m just saying,” Thanos argued, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, “the Patriots have the best legacy. You can’t argue with the stats, man.”

Min-su scoffed, leaning back dramatically. “Stats? Stats don’t mean jack shit when your team has zero soul. Cowboys all the way.”

You and Se-mi sat on the couch, clutching your sides as you tried to stifle your laughter. “I regret ever introducing them to football,” you said through giggles, shaking your head.

“It’s like watching two dads at a barbecue,” Se-mi added, wiping tears from her eyes. She stood up, grabbing another bottle of soju from the table. “Come on, let’s go to the roof. I need some air before they drag us into this.”

The roof of your building was as familiar to you as your own bedroom. It wasn’t much to look at—worn-down concrete, rusting railings, and the occasional stray chair someone had abandoned years ago. Maintenance clearly hadn’t bothered with it in ages, but that was part of its charm. It was a quiet, forgotten place, a secret retreat above the bustling streets below.

The city’s lights stretched out in every direction, casting a glow against the dark sky. You and Se-mi sat cross-legged on the cold concrete, passing the bottle of soju between you as the sounds of the city hummed softly in the distance.

Se-mi sparked a cigarette, the flicker of the lighter briefly illuminating her face. She took a drag before handing it to you and tipping the bottle to her lips. The bitter warmth of the soju was familiar, comforting in its own way.

“So,” she began, exhaling a stream of smoke that swirled into the night air, “my family’s doing really well.”

A smile spread across your face. “That’s good! I’m glad you’ve been reconnecting with them.”

“Yeah…” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the glowing end of the cigarette. She hesitated, then continued, “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Your chest tightened at her words. You already knew what was coming, but hearing it would make it real.

“Min-su and I were talking today,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “Now that we’ve been back for a while, and, you know, making amends with our families… I think it might be time we go home. At least for now.”

You took a long sip from the bottle, letting the warmth steady you as you stared up at the stars. They blinked back at you like distant reminders of how vast the world was.

“It’s just… the games made me realize so much,” Se-mi continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I don’t want to miss out on spending time with my family while I still can. I-I don’t want to live with regrets.”

Your throat tightened, but you smiled, even as your eyes grew glassy. “Se-mi, I think it’s a great idea.”

Her head snapped toward you, surprise flashing across her face. “Really?”

“Of course,” you said, sitting up and taking her hands in yours. “Look, I love having you guys here. You’ve been the best friends anyone could ever ask for. But I don’t want you to miss out on being with your family, okay? You deserve that.” Your lips curved into a small smile. “Besides, we all live in Seoul. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

A tear slipped down Se-mi’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, her smile trembling. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

“You’re my best friend, too,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. You took the cigarette from her, taking a long drag before exhaling slowly and wiping away your own tears. Then, with a mischievous grin, you added, “Besides, I’d like to be able to fuck my boyfriend whenever I want without being so rudely interrupted.”

Se-mi snorted, her laughter breaking the tension. “You two are actually sick, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you teased, nudging her shoulder with yours.

“Unfortunately,” she joked, laughing as she sipped on the bottle. “I definitely won’t miss the ‘Oh-OH mY GOd! SU-BonG!” She imitated your moaning and you laughed. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault he’s good in bed!” You giggled.

The two of you sat there a little longer, sharing stories, laughter, and a few more quiet tears. It wasn’t goodbye, not really. But it was the beginning of a new chapter, one that would reshape the bonds you’d built over the past few weeks. The thought was bittersweet, but as you looked out over the city with your best friend by your side, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything you’d shared—and for everything that was still to come.

-

The next day, you helped Se-mi and Min-su pack their belongings. Even though they’d only be 20 minutes away, it felt like they were moving to the other side of the world. The apartment, once filled with their laughter and presence, seemed emptier with every item they packed into their small bags.

“I can’t believe we’re really leaving,” Se-mi said softly, her voice tinged with emotion as she hugged you tightly.

“I’m gonna miss you guys so much,” you murmured, tears brimming in your eyes as you clung to her. Min-su stepped in next, pulling you into a bear hug that made you laugh even as tears slipped down your cheeks.

“Don’t get all sappy on us,” he teased, though his voice cracked slightly. “We’ll still see each other, you know.”

You smiled through your tears, nodding. “I know. It’s just… it won’t be the same.”

When they finally left, you stood in the doorway, watching them disappear down the hallway. Your heart felt heavier with each step they took away from your little apartment. You closed the door softly, turning to Thanos with a pout, your bottom lip quivering as you tried to hold yourself together.

He was already waiting for you, his expression gentle and understanding. “Come here, honey,” he said, opening his arms.

You walked into his embrace, burying your face in his chest as he wrapped you up tightly. His hand slid into your hair, stroking softly as you sniffled against him.

“It’s going to be so weird without them,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.

“I know,” he said, his tone soothing. “But we’ll see them soon, okay? And I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His dark eyes met yours, steady and full of reassurance. “Promise?” you whispered, needing to hear it again.

He cupped your cheeks in his hands, his thumbs brushing away a stray tear. “Cross my heart,” he said with a tender smile before leaning down to kiss you. The kiss was soft and unhurried, his lips lingering on yours as if to remind you of everything he’d promised.

The next two days passed in a quiet rhythm. With your friends gone, the apartment felt different, but you and Thanos filled the space with your own kind of warmth. You cooked dinner together, bumping into each other playfully in the small kitchen. You made love lazily in the afternoons, your bodies tangling in the sheets as the sunlight streamed through the window. And in the evenings, you binged trashy TV, laughing at ridiculous plots and stealing kisses during commercial breaks.

One night, as you lay tangled together under the blankets, his hand lazily traced soft patterns across your bare skin. Your head rested on his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a state of peaceful contentment. The sound of the TV droned in the background, but you weren’t paying attention anymore.

You turned your face slightly, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Let’s go see your place tomorrow.”

Thanos froze for a moment, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Yeah?” he asked cautiously, his tone laced with a hint of surprise.

“Yeah,” you said, tilting your head to look up at him. “I want to see the luxurious life you live.” A teasing smile tugged at your lips. “Besides, you’ve been holed up in my crappy apartment for weeks. I should at least see what you’re offering.”

A grin spread across his face, but it quickly softened into something more serious. “I want you to know,” he said, his voice dropping to a gentle tone, “I’m happy anywhere, as long as it’s with you. Okay?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. It was slow and sweet, a quiet promise shared between you. As the night carried on, the two of you drifted into a peaceful sleep, his arms wrapped securely around you.

But Thanos didn’t sleep for long. As your breaths evened out, he carefully reached for his phone, his fingers moving quickly across the screen. He messaged his team, instructing them to ensure the penthouse was spotless by morning. The car would be there at 11 a.m. sharp, ready to pick you both up.

Tomorrow was the day he’d been waiting for—the day he’d finally share his sanctuary with you. It wasn’t just about showing you his home; it was about letting you into a part of his life he’d kept hidden from everyone else.

He exhaled deeply, staring at the glowing screen for a moment longer. Ever since he’d been spotted with you at a club, the media frenzy had reignited, fans clamoring for his return. His manager was desperate to get him back in the studio but Thanos had ignored him. None of that mattered to him—not the attention, not the pressure. All that mattered was you.

He set his phone down, his gaze shifting to your peaceful face, your hair fanned out across the pillow. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering into the quiet room, “Tomorrow, everything changes.”

-

The morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, painting soft streaks of gold across the bed. You stirred, rolling over to reach for your boyfriend, but your hand met only the cool, empty space where he should have been.

Sitting up, you scanned the small studio apartment, hoping to see him in the kitchen or shifting around in the bathroom, but the room was still. A flicker of unease crept in, but then you grabbed your phone from the nightstand.

Thanos: Be back soon :)

You stared at the message, your brows furrowing in curiosity. What was he up to this early? Shaking your head, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding not to dwell on it.

With a stretch and a yawn, you moved to your closet to find something to wear, only to be met with the realization that nearly all your clothes were in desperate need of a wash. Sifting through the hangers, your fingers landed on an old camo dress you hadn’t worn in years. It hugged you in all the right places, and paired with your favorite jean jacket and sneakers, it felt like the perfect mix of casual and cute.

Just as you were smoothing the dress over your hips, the apartment door burst open. Thanos stood there, looking effortlessly breathtaking. His black jeans fit snugly against his toned frame, and his white button-up shirt was open at the collar, revealing just enough of his chest to make your heart race. His purple hair was styled perfectly, the strands catching the morning light.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” you said with a smirk, eyeing him appreciatively.

His lips curled into a grin as his gaze swept over you, lingering on the way the dress accentuated your curves. “And you’re one to talk,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. “You look perfect.”

You raised a brow. “I thought we were just going to see your place today. Do I need to change?”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, stepping closer and offering you his hand. His eyes softened as he added, “You look beautiful.”

Blushing, you took his hand, letting him guide you out of your apartment. Outside, a sleek black Hyundai Genesis waited, gleaming in the morning sun. Thanos opened the door for you, his touch gentle as he helped you into the car.

The interior smelled like leather and luxury, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the smooth seats as he spoke softly to the driver. “I’m excited to finally show you my place,” he said, his voice tinged with nervous energy.

You smiled at him, warmth blossoming in your chest. “I’m excited to see it,” you said, though a small part of you sensed there was more to this visit than he was letting on.

When the car pulled up to a towering building in downtown Seoul, your jaw dropped. The sleek architecture gleamed against the sky, its modern design a stark contrast to the cozy familiarity of your small apartment.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, unable to take your eyes off the building.

Thanos sighed as he noticed the paparazzi beginning to gather outside, their cameras already flashing. His hand tightened around yours. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low with frustration. “I thought this would be handled. I didn’t want them ruining today.”

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, meeting his gaze. “It’s okay,” you said softly, giving him a small smile. “I’m here. With you. That’s all that matters.”

His tension melted under your touch, and he brushed his thumb over your knuckles before stepping out of the car and helping you to your feet. Fans screamed his name, and cameras clicked furiously as he wrapped a protective arm around your waist and led you toward the building.

Inside, the chaos of the crowd was replaced by the quiet elegance of the lobby. The doorman greeted you both with a polite bow and handed each of you a glass of champagne. “Thanos! Been travelling?” He asked in Korean.

“Something like that.” Thanos replied with a sly grin.

“New girlfriend?” the doorman asked excitedly in English, his eyes lighting up as he looked at you.

“Yeong-wonhi,” Thanos replied, his voice steady and full of meaning.

The word made your chest tighten with emotion. He’d whispered it to you countless times in the stillness of the night—forever.

The elevator ride to the top floor was quiet, the anticipation building with every passing second. When the doors opened into the foyer of his penthouse, the sight before you stole your breath.

The walls were painted a rich red, adorned with carefully chosen pieces of art that told stories of culture and passion. The floors gleamed under the sunlight streaming through massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The open layout led into a spacious living room, the furniture modern and luxurious, yet inviting.

“Whoa,” you breathed, stepping inside.

Thanos followed closely, his hand on the small of your back as you took it all in. “Let me give you the tour,” he said, his voice tinged with pride.

He led you through the guest bedrooms—each immaculate and equipped with its own bathroom. “Se-mi and Min-su can stay here when they visit,” he said with a small smile, glancing at you for a reaction.

Next was his studio, filled with shelves of vinyl records and stacks of notebooks. You could feel the weight of his passion in this space, and it made your heart swell.

Finally, he brought you to the master bedroom. The king-sized bed was draped in black velvet, and a modern fireplace sat under a large mounted television. He opened the door to a massive bathroom, complete with a glass-walled shower, a jacuzzi tub, and a double vanity. The adjacent closet was spacious and well-organized, but one side stood completely empty.

“I want to see all your pretty clothes hung up here,” he said softly, trailing his fingers along the empty rail.

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide with emotion. “T, this is…”

“Let me show you the balcony,” he said quickly, taking your hand and guiding you outside. The view was nothing short of breathtaking. The entire city of Seoul stretched out before you, glittering under the sunlight.

“It’s almost as beautiful as you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to him, tears brimming in your eyes. “T, I… I love it.”

Relief flooded his face. “You do?”

You nodded, smiling through your tears. “It’s perfect.”

“I’ve never brought anyone here,” he admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “This place has always been just mine. My sanctuary. But with you… I want to share it. I want this to be our place.”

Your heart swelled as his words sank in. Without thinking, you reached up to cup his face. “Thank you for letting me in,” you whispered. Then, with a playful smile, you added, “Now, will you please make love to me on our bed?”

Thanos stared at you for a moment, his shock quickly melting into a grin. “You’ll move in?”

“On one condition,” you said, stepping closer and peeling off your jacket. “I’m your one and only. Yeong-wonhi.”

He didn’t hesitate, scooping you into his arms and carrying you back inside, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was as full of love as it was passion. “Forever,” he promised.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

Tags: @kaylieiskrazy04 @fr3akyyg1rll @heuningpie @sapph1r3x @moondooll @tranquilty @noharaaa @mariaxman @dear-satan @infinetlyforgotten @staryscorner @blu-brrys @come-as-you-are-111 @nicklet94

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[sinnabarmoth]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Zayne x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes.)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Sylus)

You heard the front door open and smiled. “Welcome home, how was work my darling?” you called to Zayne from the kitchen.

“I’m…alive.” he sighed.

“Oh dear,” you put the soup on low heat to keep it warm and went out to see him. Zayne was slumped against the front door toeing off his shoes. There were deep lines etched into his forehead, bags under his eyes, and his hair was askew from running his hands through it. “What happened? Something go wrong at work?”

“No. Nothing wrong but the amount of work being put on my plate.” he let you help him out of his overcoat. “I probably would have stayed later to get some more things done but I knew if I did that you’d come over and drag me out by the nape of my neck.”

“Damn right I would have. I haven’t spent the last couple years instilling a sense of work/life balance in you for you to backslide now.” you pulled him in for a hug. “You work so hard, you need to remember to take breaks when you need them. You’re not some machine.”

“I know,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Which is why I came home. I know you’d force me to relax no matter what.”

“You know me so well. Now go on, get out of your work clothes and come join me for dinner. I made a very nutritious vegetable soup--”

“And you made sure to--”

“With no carrots. I know.” you rolled your eyes. “And I also bought taro ice cream for dessert.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Is it possible we can have dessert first?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Zaynie. But I spent an hour making this soup, you’re getting a bowl full of that first.” you gave his butt a little pat as you ushered him toward the bedroom.

You ladled soup into the waiting bowls on the table and sat down as Zayne reemerged looking much more comfortable. You let him complain about his day and vent his frustrations with the changes they were doing around the hospital that he didn’t think were actually necessary. Your feet bumped against his under the table, reminding him that he was home and didn’t need to worry about work any more tonight.

Slowly he started to relax and the life came back into his eyes as he ate the soup. There was your husband. You leaned across the table and took his free hand, stroking it lightly with your thumb. He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about how all day all you do is take care of everyone else. People put you in charge of their health, the health of their friends and family, their very lives really. It’s a lot of pressure. It makes me worry sometimes that you forget to take care of yourself, let someone dote on you for a change.” you squeezed his hand. “I want to be that person for you.”

“You are that person every day.” a gentle smile grew on his face. “Every time I come home and see your smiling face I forget all my other worries. I know that you will always be there to take my coat and lift my spirits and tell me to just lay back and take it easy for the night. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you.”

“Aw Zayne!” you got up and kissed his cheek. “You really are the sweetest, my darling.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I can hardly remember a time before I had you in my life. I must have been a machine to have coped with it all.”

“You were never a machine. You just didn’t have someone to remind you to look after yourself. Sometimes people need someone to come in and remind them that they are a person too. After that, they learn to do it for themselves. Do you think the Zayne from a couple years ago would have left work on time when he knew he could get more stuff done if he stayed?”

He shook his head. “No. I would have been there till midnight, probably would have slept there too.”

“Exactly. Now look at you, you come home to me without me having to so much as send a text. I helped pull you out but you’ve been doing marvelously at keeping yourself afloat. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“My flower…” he gazed up at you with absolute love and adoration.

“And it looks like you finished your soup so if you still want it we can have ice cream now.” you said brightly.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite.” you ruffled his hair and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. You were going to scoop it out but decided to just grab two spoons and stuck them in the carton. “Since you worked so hard today and you’re being extra sweet I think we can have a straight from the carton kinda night. Have as much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” you sat yourself on the edge of the table and scooped up some ice cream with your spoon. “Want me to feed you as well?”

His face started turning red. “No--I mean, not unless you really want to.”

You chuckled and held the spoon out for him. He licked the ice cream off and once he had you bent closer and pecked his lips, chasing the lingering sweetness on them. You noticed when you started to pull away he leaned in closer, chasing your lips.

You smiled, cupping his face. “Is my doctor perhaps craving something a little sweeter than ice cream?”

He gulped, staring up at you through half lidded eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t mind…” he trailed off.

“Come now, my darling. You know better than to not finish your sentence.” you said in a quiet, coaxing voice. “What is it you want?”

“I’d like to go back to the bedroom, my flower.” he said, his spine straightening.

“Much better.” you pulled him out of his chair and quickly tossed the ice cream back in the freezer. “We can finish that later. Right now I think what my hard working husband needs is a thorough massage.”

[arkhamsbrat]

family is a rough subject for both you and jason. you know why it’s hard for him, he’s explained it in painful detail. you’ve done the same, as terrifying as it was to go over everything again. your little sister is the roughest part.

you raised her, since your mom didn’t care to. taught her how to walk, talk, read and write. in all ways except legally and biologically, she was your kid. maybe you never wanted kids because you already had one in her. that’s why leaving your home state was the hardest decision of your life. escaping your parents was good for you… but it left her alone.

when a random number called you, you just had the urge to answer it.

it was hard for you to stay calm when the voice on the other end was your sister, in tears because your parents kicked her out. you had a friend who was still in town go pick her up immediately, sent them money to get her on a phone plan so she could stay in contact with you. jason had been so busy you didn’t think to tell him you were buying a ticket for her to come to you. you didn’t care for any denial, in truth.

you spent the next two hours on a rampage across your home, breaking a few glasses in your wake. it got to a point where you just collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. jason came home to see you in tears, broken glass at your side. “hey-baby, what happened?” your wet eyes flickered up to him and you just cried harder. “they kicked her out..” he thought for a moment before realizing. “your sister?” his hand moved to cup your cheek, gently wiping your tears away. “need me to buy her a ticket?”

why you ever question jason todd and his love for you is something that can never be answered.

jason doesn’t care about his space being intruded. he knows all about her, you constantly talk about her achievements. when he first visited your apartment, he thought you may have been a teen mother. not that it wouldve been an issue.

he sets up the living room into a makeshift bedroom while youre out one day. when you come home, hes honestly scared he fucked up. you just kept blinking at him. “what’s-what did you do?” you ask quietly. “i just… thought she’d want it to feel like an actual room? and not like she was couch surfing?” he watches you scan over the room with wide eyes before you start crying again. jason rushes over and wraps his arms around you, barely catching your whispered “thank you”s.

he’d never seen you two in person- your parents had banned you from seeing her when you moved out. that’s why i think jason is shocked the first time he sees you with your little sister. no matter how old she gets you cradle her cheeks and kiss her head. years had passed, she was so much bigger.

jason watches silently, seeing you pull her into the kitchen while she cries. “they kicked me out…” he sees how your jaw sets, but you keep your voice soft as you cradle her. “y’gonna stay with me, okay?”

“but what about…” she drones off, eyes moving towards the living room. “jayce.” you call out, waiting for him to hum in acknowledgment. “can she stay with us?” barely a second passed before he responded. “as long as she needs to.”

your sister cries harder against your shoulder, and you shush her gently. “i got you, ladybug… promise.” jason can see the tears in your eyes that are barely held back as you hold her tight.

jason’s never loved you more than he does right now.

[thezombieprostitute]

Your Champion: Introductions

Summary: Former boxing champion Steve Rogers gets a new life as a collector for the mob.

A/N: Inspired by a tag I received from @alexakeyloveloki

A/N2: Part of the Yours AU.

Warnings: Implied abuse, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any! There will be non/dub con later in the series.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know" is one of the biggest truths in Steve's life. He was in and out of trouble pretty much every day of his life until he met up with Fury. Fury got him off the streets and into the ring. He became a champion. And he couldn't be bought.

That's how he met Bucky. Bucky was an up-and-comer in a new gang that was steadily building power. He'd made a lot of money betting on Steve. He regularly bet on him when he'd learned that Steve was approached by other gangs, trying to rig the match, but had thrown them all out on their ass. Bucky respected that.

Unfortunately the representatives of those other gangs didn't care for how they were treated. Steve was ambushed, taking a major beating, and a couple bullets, that left him unable to ever fight in the ring again.

When he was healed up, Bucky offered him a job as a collector. Easy money, easy work, and he'd be taken care of. Nick liked that Steve was a man of integrity and approved the hiring. Steve was the one that took some convincing. Only after he was shown how Fowler was investing money in actually taking care of the community, that protection money actually got people protection, did he agree to the job.

Soon he learned another benefit of the job: he could punch bullies and abusers without reproach.

Which is how he met you.

Your father was a gambling addict and a thief. If you'd ever had anything of value it'd been stolen and pawned off to fuel his bad habits. Every penny you made working at the grocery store had to be spent on food and bills before he remembered it was payday. If he even thought you were holding out on him he'd fly into a rage. You couldn't afford any more hospital visits so you had to give him what he wanted.

You were making your nightly meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small yogurt, your biggest meal of the day, when the door suddenly burst in. You screamed in surprise as your father shouted and started to get out of his recliner. He'd barely gotten out of his chair before he was pushed back down by a tall blond man. You curled up into a ball, too scared to do anything.

"You owe Fowler a lot of money," the blond tells your father.

"I can pay it, I promise! I've had a lucky streak---" Your father is cut off by a backhand to the face. You whimper as you see the blood from his split lip.

At the sound the blond turns to you. "Who are you?"

You manage to stutter out your name.

"You his girl?"

"His daughter."

"You want her? Take her!" your father is quick to add. "Take her to pay off my debts!"

You don't have time to register your father's words before the blond punches him so hard the recliner falls back. You start crying out of fear, covering your eyes, wishing you could just be invisible like you were to everyone else.

The blond crouches down so he's eye level with you. He's cooing, "it's okay. You're not in trouble. You're not gonna get hurt here. He'll never lay another hand on you, I promise." He takes your hands away from your face and gets a good look at you. "You work at Pete's grocery, don't you?"

Surprised, you can only nod.

"I've seen you working there," he confirms. "You work hard. Lotta hours from what I hear." Looking around the meager apartment he looks back to you, "I'm guessing he gambles it all away?"

Again, you can only nod.

He holds out his hand to you, "I'm Steve, by the way. I'm going to make sure you never have to worry about anyone like your father ever again."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[leftneb]

for the wip ask game! 🌩

🌩 Share something funny/cracky from your WIP. from this ask game

from The Hands Fic WIP! heads up there is one (1) brief mention of explicit content in here!

“D’you remember the lie detector? Thought that thing was gonna cut my fingers off.” Lando rambles on, not realising how much closer he just put Oscar to tripping over his own feet in front of what might as well be their entire team.

In lieu of an appropriate reaction Oscar lets his face just do what it wants. He feels, helpless, as his eyebrows raise and his eyes widen, staring staunchly at the floor because as long as he doesn’t look Lando in the eye he can still plausibly deny having had any sort of reaction to d’you remember the lie detector of all fucking things. 

Oh, does he remember the lie detector? Fucking hell. Of course he remembers the fucking lie detector. Could he ever not.

“Hmm,” he says, trying to school his voice into something that doesn’t sound suspiciously like yeah I remember how you giggled and blushed and hid your face into the crook of your elbow, I watched every single moment of it or the somehow catastrophically worse yes I’ve been jacking off to the knowledge of you having to re-buckle the straps because your monster-sized fingers wouldn’t fit into the space mine were perfectly fucking snug in, so thanks yeah I reckon I remember the lie detector.

Instead, he says, in an unfortunately conspiratorial tone, “I don’t recall it was that tight for me.” Which is somehow worse, and more revealing, than just the truth. If he’s lucky Lando won’t make the connection between Oscar remembering the lie detector and being able to fucking, compare their hand girth like an actual stalker.

“Heh, right,” Lando huffs. “You and your dainty princess hands. I’m jealous, Osc, mine are like, fucking monstrous,” he teases, mischief in his voice like he’s not just flipped Oscar’s world upside down. 

Lando shimmies both his hands out of his pockets and lifts them chest-level, demonstrating his point to Oscar. 

Inexplicably, some primal part of his brain decides that he should be listening to his mirror neurons instead of basic etiquette. He lifts his hands to match. “Yeah,” he says. 

“See? Tiny.” Lando says for emphasis, taking his other hand and craning it all the way over just to poke Oscar’s frozen-still limb. If Oscar wasn’t already used to Lando’s complete disregard of personal space, he’d think it was weird. Well he’d probably think it was weird if he could think at all right now. 

“Yeah,” he says again, pleasantly surprised that his tone is still bored levels of flat. Fucking hell. 

“Well, you know what they say about a guy’s hands…” Lando jests. He turns – to Oscar’s utter horror – to look him dead in the eye, anticipating something; Oscar’s reaction, maybe even a response. 

Oscar opens his mouth, says, voice mortifyingly rough, “right,” realises that there’s no way that’ll be enough to save either of them from social oblivion, and continues. “Big hands, big-” he fails to think rationally, “ego?”

And Lando- Lando laughs. Not a big outburst, just a cackle, of sorts. It brings the crinkle back to the corner of his eyes and snaps the tension from his shoulders. 

“Big hands, big ego!” He says. Bright like the sun, a happy little tremor in his voice. Like he’s relieved Oscar’s joke was funny. 

[wosos-stuff]

The journal of secrets

Chapter 5: The Moment of Truth (The last chapter)

Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep pretending.

Over the past few days, she had tried to put distance between herself and Alessia—tried to convince herself that it was for the best. But every time she saw Alessia, whether it was on the pitch or in the locker room, the knot in her chest tightened. It was like her heart was pulling her in two different directions: one part of her desperate to stay close to Alessia, the other terrified of what that closeness might mean.

She wasn’t ready to admit what was really going on—not to herself, and definitely not to Alessia.

And so, she started avoiding her.

It wasn’t easy. They were on the same team, training together almost every day. But Y/N found little ways to distance herself—making excuses to leave early, avoiding Alessia’s gaze during practice, choosing different teammates to sit with in the locker room. It was cowardly, and she knew it. But it was the only way she could keep herself from falling apart.

The problem was, Alessia wasn’t blind. Y/N could see the confusion and hurt in her eyes every time she brushed past her, every time she pretended not to notice Alessia standing nearby. And that only made the knot in her chest twist even tighter.

It was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

---

The Arsenal team had gathered for a team bonding night—a casual evening at a local restaurant, filled with laughter, food, and plenty of banter. Normally, Y/N would have enjoyed it. She loved these nights with her teammates, the camaraderie, the shared stories, the jokes that never seemed to end.

But tonight, all she could think about was Alessia.

She had done her best to keep her distance, choosing a seat at the opposite end of the table from Alessia, laughing along with her teammates even though her heart wasn’t in it. But no matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept drifting back to the other end of the table, where Alessia sat, looking as radiant as ever.

Except tonight, there was something different in the way Alessia carried herself—something quieter, more reserved. She wasn’t her usual bubbly self, her laughter not quite reaching her eyes. And every time their gazes met, even from across the table, Y/N felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

Halfway through the night, Alessia stood up and excused herself, heading outside for some fresh air. Y/N watched her go, her heart sinking. She knew she should follow her, knew she should finally have the conversation they had both been avoiding. But fear rooted her to the spot.

“You’re being an idiot, you know,” Katie McCabe said from beside her, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “You’re miserable. She’s miserable. What are you waiting for?”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the words died on her tongue. Katie was right, and she knew it. She was miserable. And the longer she stayed silent, the worse it got.

With a deep breath, Y/N pushed her chair back and stood up, ignoring the curious glances from her teammates as she headed outside after Alessia.

The night air was cool against her skin as she stepped out of the restaurant, her heart pounding in her chest. She spotted Alessia standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared off into the distance.

“Alessia,” Y/N called out softly.

Alessia turned at the sound of her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you want, Y/N?”

The sharpness in her tone made Y/N’s chest ache. She deserved it—she knew that. She had been avoiding Alessia, pushing her away without any explanation. But hearing the hurt in Alessia’s voice, seeing the way her shoulders tensed—it made everything so much worse.

“I just…” Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to even begin. “I don’t know.”

Alessia’s jaw clenched, and she shook her head, clearly frustrated. “You don’t know? That’s your answer? You’ve been avoiding me for days, and you ‘don’t know’?”

Y/N winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to what?” Alessia cut in, her voice rising. “You didn’t mean to shut me out? Didn’t mean to act like I don’t exist?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, guilt crashing over her like a wave. She had hurt Alessia—there was no denying that. And the worst part was, she didn’t even have a good explanation for why she had done it.

“I just… I didn’t know what else to do,” Y/N said quietly, her voice trembling. “This whole thing—it’s confusing, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Alessia stared at her, the anger slowly fading from her expression, replaced by something softer. Something more vulnerable. “What do you mean?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it—the moment she had been dreading, the moment when she would have to lay everything out in the open. But the fear of losing Alessia, of ruining everything, kept her rooted in place.

“I just…” Y/N’s voice faltered, her throat tight. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve just been—”

“Scared?” Alessia finished for her, her voice softening.

Y/N blinked, surprised. “What?”

Alessia took a step closer, her eyes searching Y/N’s face. “You’re scared. I get it. I’ve been scared too.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “You have?”

Alessia nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. I mean, this whole thing—it’s complicated, right? We’re teammates, and we’ve been pretending for so long, I didn’t know where the line was anymore.”

Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes stinging with the weight of everything she had been holding back. “I didn’t know either,” she whispered.

---

The restaurant lights glowed dimly through the windows behind them as Y/N and Alessia stood in the cool night air, their breaths fogging in front of them. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them thick with unsaid words. Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her pulse thrumming in her ears. She didn’t know where to begin—how to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside her.

“I’ve been scared,” Alessia admitted softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was quieter now, more vulnerable. “Because… I don’t know where we stand anymore.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She wanted to say something, anything, to fix the distance that had grown between them. But the truth felt too big, too overwhelming.

“I started pulling away because…” Y/N paused, taking a shaky breath. “Because I didn’t know if I could keep pretending.”

Alessia looked at her, confused. “Pretending?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly. “This whole fake relationship thing… It started out as a way to, I don’t know, throw people off or whatever. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.”

She could see the realization dawning in Alessia’s eyes, the way her expression shifted from confusion to something deeper—something that mirrored the same fear and hope Y/N had been feeling.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know if you felt the same way, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

Alessia’s eyes softened, and she took a small step closer, closing the gap between them. “Y/N, I—”

“I was scared that if I told you how I really felt,” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling, “you wouldn’t feel the same. And then I’d lose you for real.”

For a moment, Alessia didn’t say anything. She just looked at Y/N, her eyes filled with something Y/N couldn’t quite read. Then, slowly, Alessia reached out and took Y/N’s hand, their fingers intertwining.

“I’ve been scared too,” Alessia said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because… I started to feel the same way.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. “You… you did?”

Alessia nodded, her thumb gently brushing over the back of Y/N’s hand. “Yeah. Somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling like a game to me too.”

---

The world seemed to stop in that moment, the space between them filled with the weight of everything they had been too scared to say. Y/N could feel the warmth of Alessia’s hand in hers, could feel the steady thrum of her own heart pounding in her chest. And for the first time in weeks, the knot of fear and doubt that had been twisting inside her began to loosen.

Alessia’s gaze flicked down to Y/N’s lips, and Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. She could feel the tension between them building, the unspoken question lingering in the air.

“Is this real?” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Alessia smiled softly, her eyes warm and full of emotion. “Yeah. It’s real.”

And then, without another word, Alessia closed the distance between them, her lips brushing softly against Y/N’s in a kiss that was gentle and tentative at first, as if testing the waters. But as soon as their lips met, everything else faded away—the confusion, the fear, the doubt. All that mattered was the warmth of Alessia’s touch, the way her hand tightened around Y/N’s, grounding her in the moment.

Y/N’s heart swelled, a flood of emotions rushing through her all at once. The kiss deepened, slow and tender, filled with all the words they hadn’t been able to say. It was a promise, a question, and an answer all in one.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Y/N let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing.

“That felt… real,” Y/N whispered, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Alessia chuckled, her eyes shining with warmth. “Because it is.”

---

They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the weight of everything they had been through finally starting to lift. Y/N could feel the warmth of Alessia’s hand in hers, could feel the steady rhythm of her breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t scared.

She wasn’t scared of what came next, wasn’t scared of the complications that might arise from being teammates and now something more. All she knew was that she didn’t want to keep pretending.

“So… what now?” Y/N asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia smiled, her eyes soft. “Now… we make this real. No more pretending.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with hope, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I’d like that.”

Alessia leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead before pulling back, her gaze warm and full of promise. “Me too.”

As they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the night, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was the real beginning—like everything that had come before had been leading up to this moment.

And for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t afraid of what came next.

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

Thank you for reading

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 13/?

Prev | Next

Damian was wired up. He would be fidgeting if it weren’t for his years of training. He was worried for Danyal. The blast and the fight knocked him out cold, and Damian could do nothing. He could still see the smoke smoldering from his twin’s body.

Jasmine hummed as she brought out some coffee and tea leaves.

“What do you guys prefer?”

“We’re fine,” Richard said in a tight voice.

“Nothing for me,” Father said.  

“Hmm, if you say so. I think I’ll make some tea. Damian, do you want any?”

Damian couldn’t take her nonchalant attitude anymore. He brought his fist down to the table, making the few dishes rattle.

“How can you be blasé about things when Danyal is hurt? You say you’re his older sister, yet here you are, worried about drinking tea instead of him!”

Jazz didn’t have the decency to react to Damian’s outburst. She continued making her tea calmly.

“Okay, then, no tea for you.”

She sat down on the table and sipped her tea.

“I’m not worried because I know Danny. He’s been through worse and has come through the other side. He’s strong. Besides, I gave him a shot of ecto-dejected; that’s the green goo injection. It’ll jump-start his advanced healing and make him come back quicker. He needs rest right now; there’s nothing more I can do than wait now.”

Jasmine put down her tea.

“Besides, the way you’re judging me is rich coming from you, don’t you think ibn al Xu'ffasch?”

Jasmine continued drinking her tea as everyone else at the table tensed. She knew—she knew about their nightlife. Danyal must’ve told her.

“What do you mean by saying that name,” father asked.

“I think you know exactly what it means.” 

“He told you,” Richard accused.

“Don’t be so surprised. Danny eventually tends to tell me all his secrets. He trusts me. I know everything about his past—about how his so-called family treated him,” Jasmine looked straight at Damian while she said that.

“That’s not fair. Damian didn’t know any better; he was raised by bad people.”

“I suppose you’re right, but he’s out of that environment now and still trying to impose his will on Danny. He doesn’t want to leave us, yet you’re trying to take away his right to choose and make him go with you and your family.”

“It’s not just my family. It’s Danyal’s, too. What claim do you have on my brother? None.”

“Damian,” father said his name as a warning.

“No, we’re his blood family. That has to mean more than a family who has been following him around to kill him.”

“Blood meant nothing when he was kicked out of the only life he has ever known. We took him in and loved him. Are you saying that chosen family isn’t as strong or stronger than blood relations,” she asked while looking at Richard.

“That’s not fair! Leave my family out of this,” Damian said.

“Hypocrite,” Jasmine said.

“What,” Damian asked while taking out one of his knives, “did you say?”

“Hypocrite,” she repeated while finishing her tea. She got up and had the gall to turn her back to Damian.

“Danny is going to wake up soon,” she said with certainty, “I say we go back.”

She paused for a moment.

“I’ll let you guys decide what to tell my parents, but don’t treat them like idiots. If you don’t want to tell them about your nightlife, that is your right. Tell them there are things you can’t tell them but don’t lie and don’t twist the truth, or I will butt in, got it?”

She left them in the kitchen. Damian would admit it to himself only, but she was right. He was a hypocrite. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t bring his twin home.

____

Danny was floating. He was in a dark, warm space with twinkling lights resembling stars above him. He didn’t want to leave. He knew he would have to face…something when he woke up. He didn’t know what, but Danny knew it would be bad.

Danny could feel his surroundings melting away, leaving reality behind. He tried to hold on to his dark blanket as long as he could, but, unfortunately, it ended. Danny opened his eyes and saw two pairs of worried eyes.

His parents.

His parents who hated ghosts.

His parents who now knew his deepest secret.

He was Phantom, their enemy.

Danny was about to beg for forgiveness when he felt his parents’ arms around him.

“Oh, honey buns, we are so sorry,” his mom whispered.

“Dann-o, no words will ever be enough to express how sorry I am,” his dad said.

Danny scrunched his eyebrows, confused.

“Mom, dad, what—what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? We’re asking for forgiveness,” mom said, his dad nodding his head vigorously.

“Yeah, no amount of apologizing will ever erase the pain we caused you, Danny, but your mother and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us.”

“But I lied to you multiple times, too! I hid the fact that I’m part ghost! How can you not hate me? How can you love something like me?”

His dad picked him up and squeezed him into a hug.

“Oh, Dann-o, you’re our son. We love you whether you are a boy, ghost, or something in between. Always.”

Danny’s vision got blurry with tears.

“Mom, dad, I’m so sorry,” he said, throwing himself into his parents’ arms.

“No, baby boy, we’re sorry,” his mother whispered into his ears. Ancients, he never wanted the moment to end. His parents accepted him and still loved him.

Far too soon, his parents let him go.

“There’s something else; Danny, Bruce Wayne, Damian, and Dick are in the kitchen. They say they’ll explain certain things to us.”

His mom sounded angry.

“Oh,” he said weakly. He didn’t know what else to do. He had to say so much more, but having the Waynes in his house complicated things. He couldn’t openly tell them all his secrets, or the Waynes would butt in.

At that moment, Jazz walked into the living room with the Waynes following her.

Dammit, he was out of time. Danny got off his parents’ lap and stood up. It was time to deal with the Waynes.

____

John, Deadman, and Zatanna were, for once, in agreement.

They had to call for an emergency meeting between the Justice League and Justice League Dark to find a way to revoke these laws as soon as possible.

The only reason there hadn’t been an out war was because a ghost hero named Phantom kept a fragile peace between humans and ghosts in Amity Park. That peace would not last if they didn’t do something to change the laws, though.

“We can always call the Ghost King for help, too,” Deadman said.

“You want to call Pariah Dark,” Constantine asked in disbelief. He had found out about the Ghost King during his research. The guy was a tyrant who hated both ghosts and humans.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that another ghost defeated him. The new king is benevolent and has tried his best to fix what the old tyrant had destroyed.”

“You’re sure about this,” Zatanna asked.

“Yes.”

“What do you think?”

Constantine took a puff of smoke.

“We’ll leave it for a vote. The League and Dark will have to talk about it. We can’t decide by ourselves this time. It has more than to do with magic; laws are in place.”

Zatanna and Deadman nodded, “Fine, time to call for an emergency meeting.”

“Let’s call the Bats and his brood. They found out about this, so they should be there, too.”

Constantine sent out the message. The response was immediate. They would meet in a few hours.

He took a swig of whiskey. Hopefully, this clusterfuck will be fixed soon.

[storiesandthoughtsf1]

Love for the race (desire for the chase) - Chapter 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x teammate!reader

Summary: Pre-season testing couldn't come fast enough, because you had finally made it to Formula 1. It was everything you had ever wanted, nothing was going to ruin your mood now. Not even your idiotic teammate.

Warnings: Max being an asshole ngl lol, christian horner unfortunately because I need the team principal for the storyline

Word count: 1,3K

Author's notes: Welcome to my new enemies to lovers series!! I can't wait to share this story with you guys I really love what I have so far! Chapters will for sure get longer from now on, this was just the start to set the mood. Please note that this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. Not all characters are real, because I don't know the rbr team enough for that lol. Your race engineer Robin might also low-key be based on Robin Scherbatsky, because I was watching himym while I was working on this :) Also please note that English isn’t my first language!

If just you had known what your first year racing in Formula 1 would be like. How you bit by bit had to realise what you had thought maybe hadn’t been the whole truth. But there was one thing you knew for sure, Max Verstappen was one complicated man.

Wednesday, 21st February 2024Bahrain International Circuit, Sahkir, Bahrain

The whole circus that was Formula 1 was finally back, new rookies, plenty of familiar faces, and everyone in between filling the pitlane and paddock. The Red Bull garage was buzzing with life once again, pre-season testing finally having started up. The big change for them? Max Verstappen had gotten a new teammate. But it wasn’t just any new teammate, no, it was the first woman the sport had seen in decades. A 24 year old woman that Red Bull had gotten a hold of over the winter, as she had shown great promise in the feeder series. You. And you very well knew this year wouldn’t be easy, far from it actually. Not only as the first woman in too long, but also as Max Verstappen’s teammate. The reputation Red Bull had wasn’t subtle, and you knew it would be a challenge to drive alongside the Dutchman. But a challenge you couldn’t wait for. 

Today was your first day in the car. You had just finished your first long stint, the car parked in the garage. As you climbed out of the car, you still felt the adrenaline rush course through you. Your very first time on track in this year’s Formula 1 car, and it had felt beyond anything you had ever imagined. Faster than you had ever imagined. You exited the car with a huge smile on your face, slowly beginning to take off your helmet so you could go debrief with your race engineer Robin. 

The sight of the entire garage moving around in sync made you smile, the disbelief of you actually having made it to Formula 1 still apparent. Yet here you were, with your whole team. Your team. You looked around as you walked towards Robin, and saw your team principal Christian Horner stand in the garage too. Right beside your teammate.

Max was seated on a chair in front of the screens that showed your lap time data. As you pulled off your helmet you caught the sight of him, his arms crossed as he stared at the screen in front of him with a harsh look on his face. But you tore your eyes off of him, figuring he must be looking at some data.

  “She’s fast.” One of the engineers said with an impressed look on his face, nodding approvingly at your lap times. The triumph on your face had been unmistakable as you had stepped out of your car, and in fact you didn’t need anyone to tell you that you had nailed it, because you very well knew. Everyone knew. 

Max’s leg bounced rapidly as he sat on the chair, arms crossed and his jaw locked tight. He had never been the type to give away much through his facial expressions, but the way his eyes lingered now on the data screens told a different story. 

So while the garage buzzed with activity and chatter from the mechanics and engineers, you were so caught up in it that you hadn’t seen the look on your teammate’s face that brought a deep contrast to the rest of the people there. You were focused on the electric atmosphere that your last stint had formed, smiling at your mechanics who all greeted you with comments of approval. Totally unaware of how the sight of you soaking in that praise, your head held high with that infectious smile, itched him like a splinter he couldn’t ignore. 

  “Fast doesn’t mean ready.” The words left his lips before he could stop them, or even think of what he had just uttered. Even though they were directed at the engineer seated right beside him, the engineer who had called you fast to begin with, his comment had been loud enough to catch the attention of others. Most importantly, you. 

Suddenly all sound in the garage died out. Like everything came to a halt as if time stood still. Your head turned to look in Max’s direction, watching how he still looked at the screen in front of him.. His brows were furrowed, arms still crossed, with his legs spread widely apart. You, halfway through pulling off your last glove, paused in your steps as you glanced at him. Taking in the weight of his remark. 

  “Sorry, what was that?” You spoke up, much to just about everyone’s surprise. The tension in the garage was heavy now, as if everyone were holding their breath. Waiting to see what would happen next.

Max finally glanced your way, his expression sharp and clearly unapologetic. He leaned back in his chair, vaguely gesturing at the screen in front of him. It made your blood boil.

  “You heard me. Quick lap times don’t mean much when you’re all over the place in the corners like that. You’re lucky it’s testing, not a race.” His voice was cold, blue eyes piercing their way straight into your soul. Your stomach twisted at his words, but you fought to keep your expression neutral. This was your very first day, and you weren’t about to get on everyone’s bad side for getting into a fight with their reigning world champion. Even when he acted disrespectfully.

  “I didn’t feel lucky out there, just fast.” You said, your pulse loud in your ears. Yet your exterior was kept calm, and while your words were indeed stern, they didn’t display anger. “I’m not here to give you an easy time, and I’m not afraid to push harder”

The workers around you exchanged uneasy glances at the situation unfolding right in front of them. Max moved in his seat on the chair, leaning further back and resting his one elbow on the armrest. He shrugged.

  “Being fast won’t do you any good when it matters. You’ll push too hard, make mistakes, and then what? The rest of the team, we have to clean up your mess just because you wanted to be reckless?” His words were meant to hurt now, like a spike boring its way into your chest repeatedly. Your jaw tightened, slowly feeling the anger bubble up inside of you, no matter how much you tried to keep it at bay. You told yourself it was stupid to fuel the fire, but at the same time you did not want him to walk all over you. Wanted to show that you were here to be taken seriously, and not just bow down to him. 

  “Good thing I’m not gonna make any then.” You shrugged at him as you spoke, trying to keep your cool and controlled facade. It was obvious that your words stirred something in Max, his lips pressed into a thin line, icy blue eyes narrowed. For a moment it looked like he was about to respond, to further complicate matters, but that was when Christian Horner seemed to come to his senses, and decide to put an end to this.

He physically stepped in between the two of you in the most Team Principal way he possibly could, putting his hands up to tell you to back off. “Alright that’s enough, both of you.” He looked pointedly at Max first, then turned his eyes to you and to the same, his frustration evident. 

He kept his eyes on you as he spoke up again. “Good run. Go debrief with Robin.” It was clear his words weren’t up for discussion, it was an outright demand. You nodded, walking over to your engineer, Christian turning his attention to the Dutchman.

  “You’re up next, let’s focus on the car, not each other please.” Horner said sternly, not moving until Max had shown he had understood and gone to get ready. But not before he had sent an extra look your way with narrowed eyes. The blood boiling in his body. 

The silence in the garage remained for a moment longer before the activity came back to life, the tension reduced to a lingering shadow.

But still, this wasn’t something you were about to just let go. You thought his comments had been outright disrespectful, and they bothered you deep inside of you. There was one thing you knew for sure.

That was the day you swore you despised Max Verstappen.

———————————————

Thank you so much for reading this first chapter. Can't wait to share more with you! Feedback is always much appreciated!<3

[ghouljams]

Hi. I slept around when i was 18-24 years old. I slept with 27 people (mostly one night stands) in total. I deeply regret this. My behavour started due to a sexual assault, which sent me into a spiral of alcoholism, self-hate and depression. I had almost most of my partners in a drunken state, some I don't even remember. Thankfully I have been sober for two and a half years and abstained from sex for three years. I have also reflected upon my actions and turned my life around. My past experiences and behaviour have really damaged how I percieve sex and my body. Since being abstained from sex I have realized how much it means. I want to start dating, to hopefully have a long-term commitment. I am however, terrified that my "encounters" will be a dealbreaker. This idea that men just "have to deal with it" is nice, but I think it is bs in reality. I think for most men it is a deal-breaker, and I have to live with that. But I do not wish to lie about my past to my future partner either, should the topic come up. Any thoughts or tips? Would love some perspective.

Wow. Heavy.

I sat with how, and if, to answer this for a while because I want to approach this with compassion and understanding.

First: I think talking this out with a therapist, if you aren't already, would help you out a lot. There are plenty of therapists who specialize in sexual trauma and I think that's what you should look for if you decide to seek help.

Second I want to say that I think this hard pendulum swing from hyper-sexuality to sexual guilt is too common, but no less harmful to the person experiencing it. I wish I could hold your hand when I say that I think you've moved from one form of self harm to another. Beating yourself up over decisions you made in the wake of a horrible trauma that came from a need to cope is not going to help you in the long run.

The way we perceive ourselves is constantly changing, but that doesn't mean we're always right. I also would caution you against putting "meaning" on sex. Sex is just sex. It's a thing people do for a million different reasons, some mean something and others don't. The idea that sex has some huge weight to it or is a special gift that you only give people you truly care about is incredibly dangerous and will only damage your perception of yourself further. It's also incredibly motivated by the idea that you can shame people into obedience.

Do not fall victim to indoctrination tactics that put you in a position of shame.

Here's the truth of the matter. For some men it will be a deal-breaker, and for others it won't be, but why would you want to chase after the men who dislike you for something you did out of self-preservation? Also in all honesty most men don't give a shit about how many people you've slept with. This idea that all men want a perfect virginal vessel is just absolute horseshit that's been perpetuated by misogynistic media and disseminated to the general population. The only thing a good partner will care about is if you're comfortable and interested in having sex with them.

Men don't care how many people you've had sex with. Men are dogs. Men are lucky to even get sex with everything they've done to you.

I also want to leave you with this: the way you talk about yourself and sex raises many alarm bells. I don't know if you have a deeply christian background or if you've recently gotten involved with a church, but they are not helping you. I would caution you against placing too much weight behind the decisions you made in the past impacting the way your future will go. You are not a sinner who's been permanently marred by your deeds. You are a person who made choices you now regret and that's ok. Your future is dependent on the people you surround yourself with and the way you present yourself. Sex doesn't mean anything unless you want it to, but the people that tell you sex means everything are hurting you.

[rosenclaws]

HIII you don’t know how happy i am to have stumbled on your treasure chest of an account 😭 the way you portray characters is exactly how i’ve imagined them!!! especially leopold ♥️ i’m so glad there’s an active writer for him who writes so beautifully!!

i was hoping to request a fluff fic for leopold where reader teaches kids (5-7 yrs old) and leo visits reader at their workplace. the kids do know of readers few/past boyfriends and they weren’t too fond of any of them, but they really really love leo 🫂 reader does like leo but is unaware the feelings are mutual, so the kids help leo out in trying to win their heart ♥️ (and maybe work in the element of daisies? they’re reader’s/my fave flower lolol)

she/her pronouns are good but you can also do gn! thank ü sm ⭐️ hope you’re having a great day!!!

a/n: Truth be told I've been neglecting Leopold. I've written so much Logan and I love Logan but Leopold is who truly captured my heart. I'm a little rusty but I hope you like it!! Also DAMN HES SO HANDSOME ITS CRIMINAL

Of all the days to be running late today was possibly the worst. You completely forgot about a very important meeting and you could not be late for it. You were scrambling around your apartment when someone knocks at the door.

Not the time.

As you grab your bag you throw open the door to see Leopold standing there. A smile on his face as he greets you good morning. Though he quickly notices your rushed and panicked face.

“Are you ready for coffee?”

“Hi Leo, I’m so sorry I forgot I have this meeting and I’m already late and-“ Leopold places his hands on your arms, getting you to stop moving. You feel a warmth spread through your body from his touch.

“It’s alright darling, we can go another time.” He flashes that perfect smile and for a second you hesitate to move. But you really can’t be late.

“Thank you, you can hang out here if you want. Bye Leo.” You rush past him and he just smiles. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered like that.

Truth be told Leopold doesn’t like coffee. He finds it bitter and gross and nothing compared to the wonders of tea. But when he met you and you had asked him to coffee. He just couldn’t say no.

You were one of Kate’s friends from college and ever since that day he had become entranced by you. So he sat through sipping coffee if it meant he got to speak to you. He notices a bag sitting on your counter. Furrowing his brows he takes it and looks inside. It’s your lunch. He frowns when he sees the processed food and quite unhealthy snacks inside. He knows you’re busy but he’s talked to you about this. You’re a very busy women and he worries about your habits and health. He tosses the bag in the fridge and heads out. Determined to make sure you get your lunch.

”Alright class! Finish up your drawings so we can have story time!” You announce to your students who were very deep into their artworks. There was paint all over your smock and glitter everywhere. Your stomach growls and you groan as you sit down at your desk. You forgot your lunch this morning and you were absolutely starving.

“Miss! I’m finished!” Penny, one of your students, calls. She holds up her artwork with a big toothy grin.

“Beautiful Pen!” You get up and bend down near her desk.

“Why don’t you sign it and we can put it in the back to let it dry.” She nods and messily writes her name in the corner.

There's a loud knock at the door and suddenly one of the admin appears in the doorway. You walk over and see a smirk on her face.

“You have a visitor, a very handsome one.” She whispers that last part as you look over her shoulder and see Leopold.

She leaves and Leopold smiles, you lead him into your class which catches the attention of all your students. He probably looked a little odd all dressed up in his old clothing.

“Leo? What are you doing here?”

“You forgot your lunch.” He hands you a few containers. This was not the lunch you had packed yourself.

“I’ve warned you of the dangers of processed food,” He says with a raised eyebrow.

“I know, I just don’t have a lot of time.” You sigh.

“I am aware, so I made you lunch.” Your heart flutters as you look inside. All the food looks amazing, especially the cookies he knows you love.

"Thank you Leo."

"I've noticed more often than not you don't prepare yourself adequate food," You look down, a little embarrassed at being called out.

"So, I decided I'm going to start making you lunch."

"Oh no you don't have to do that-" You start but he cuts you off. A very determined look on his face.

"I insist, please." The very idea makes your heart burst but its too kind of an offer. But its a really good one.

"Okay fine. But I buy the groceries and only until I can start making them for myself again." He smiles and accepts your conditions.

"I must go, but I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head and leaves your classroom.

He throws you a wink right before he leaves and your heart skips. You feel a tug at your pants and you look down to see one of your students Avery.

"Miss, is he a real prince?" She looks up at him with wide eyes. Avery had been in her princess mood and you can't blame her for thinking Leopold had popped right out of a storybook.

"Uh, no sweetie. He's just a friend of mine."

"But he looks just like a prince! If you marry him you could be a princess and we'd have a princess teacher!" She exclaims.

The class starts to agree with her and you try and calm them down. Thankfully their attention shifts when you pull out a book for story time. You were just thankful they forgot about it, or you thought they had.

Visits from Leopold had become a class staple. He'd show up every day to bring you lunch. When you asked why he didn't just give it to you in the morning he told you that this was much more eventful. The kids became obsessed with him and Leopold fed into their curiosity and imagination with ease.

Eventually you just told the school he was a volunteer so he could stick around more. He became your classes favorite story teller. At first he'd read a book or two but he grew bored of those stories and would retell his favorite stories and plays from his childhood, getting the children to act them out with him. He some how got a room of 6 year old's to give him their undivided attention. That isn't and easy feat.

"Leopold! Can you read this one?" Avery hands him one of her fairytale books.

He's sitting on the ground with the kids all around him. His previous prince like clothing was gone and instead he was dressed more modern. You had to admit you missed the flashy and fancy clothes.

Not that he didn't look good in modern clothing, he looks good in everything. You had a feeling though that Avery and the rest of the class had something up their sleeves. They were far too giggly and had mischievous looks on their faces.

"Of course love. A love story? I do find myself reading these from time to time." As he starts the story he offers someone to come play the prince but no one budges.

"We want you to play him!" Avery says with a giggle. Leopold raises an eyebrow but agrees.

"Alright, now the prince needs to have a princess doesn't he?"

"Miss should be the princess!" One of your other students pipes up.

"Me? I don't know guys I'm not really the best actress." You say but they don't care.

You're half dragged out of your chair and to the front of the room. You sit next to Leo and flash him an apologetic smile. From out of nowhere two kids bring the two of you flower crowns. They must have made them at recesses. It's a little small and Leopold's barely fits on his head but it was cute.

"You know instead of a story we should have a wedding!" Penny pipes up.

"A Wedding? Guys where is this coming from?" You say with a laugh, trying to hide your nerves.

"My mommy said a wedding is what two people who really like each other have!" The kids murmur in agreement and you sigh.

"It's alright darling, why not entertain them for today?" Leopold whispers in your ear.

He seems more than okay with being thrust into a kid planned fake wedding. It was quite amusing watching your students try and figure out what they were supposed to do.

They had cut up some paper and used them as flower petals, which they were going to have to clean up before lunch you noted. It was adorable listening to them talk though, as you sat next to Leo you found yourself unable to hold back your smiles.

"You may now kiss the bride!" Your eyes widen as you shake your head.

"Okay that's enough torturing our friend, its clean up time now." You say, putting a stop before things could go too far.

Not that you didn't want to kiss Leopold, but you didn't want him to feel forced to kiss you because your students put on a fake wedding.

"Awww," A chorus of kids groaned as you sent them back to the desk. Though once the lunch bell rings they all seem to forget their sadness.

"Sorry for all of that, I don't know what got into them." You say as you sit at your desk. Leopold had pulled up a chair right next to you. Your lunch being shared between the two of you.

"It's alright, I enjoyed the wedding." He hums as he picks a daisy from his hair. He twirls it around in his fingers before handing it to you.

"For you, my beautiful bride." You bite your lip as you take the flower from his hand, your skin brushing up against each other.

"Thank you my husband." You stick it behind your ear. Leopold stares lovingly into your eyes and you feel yourself sink under his gaze. It's just so intense, his pretty hazel eyes just make you swoon.

"You know, I would not have been upset if we kissed, for the integrity of the story." He whispers, his hand coming to cup your chin.

"Yeah?" You ask breathlessly as the space between the two of you becomes smaller and smaller.

Could this really be happening? Oh god you hope it was. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you. His hand is gentle as his kiss deepens. His lips are soft and he tastes like, like everything fucking perfect.

"I've been trying to court you for some time my love." Leopold confesses as you pull apart.

"Normally I would have given you a letter but, Charlie had told me the sentiment was outdated." You giggle at the thought of a handwritten letter from him declaring his love for you, a very romantic idea you must admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice. If I had known, we could have done this a lot sooner."

"That's alright darling, because now we have all the time in the world." Well all the time until 12:30 when the bell rang. For now though, you had him all to yourself.