#including me — i once quit writing for like a year after a harsh pile-on

[fellshish]

it’s late and i’m mildly sick so apologies if this is incoherent or weird. you don’t even need to publish this i just want to add my thoughts to those tags abt seeing the world as inherently mean (along those lines) my point is as someone who has seen their fair share of mean in the world i’ve responded to that by doing everything i can to counteract it. just being kind. not that you aren’t kind. just don’t stop writing. the world is a better and brighter place with your art in it. that goes for everyone who creates but i just wanted to leave a nice anon in your box :) i hope u have a good day fells sorry if this was ot of nowhere and mushy and cringe i should not be writing serious things rn but <3 <3 <3

Awww thank you for being kind and trying to bring more good into the world, that should be everyone’s mindset (it is mine too although i’m not perfect at it)

Don’t worry i’m not even near the thought of quitting writing — yes it sucks but this was not the first nor will it be the last time i read a mean bookmark of one of my fics. I merely want people to be aware that the author can and probably does read bookmarks and they should keep negativity to private bookmarks (or DMs with their friends like normal people).

Get well soon <3

[televinita]

First library sale of the year! Their bag sale, specifically. I initially went on the first night but I was so exhausted from work that I legitimately did not enjoy myself; I found no proper treasure and only bought 2 things, not least because I was surprised to find hardcovers were $2 instead of $1. So instead, I hatched a plan to come back for the $5 bag sale on Sunday, because I had a lot of fun with those in 2021 and didn’t really go to any in 2022 because I was already way over capacity with my regular buying. This time I had a great excuse!

My bag sale objectives are twofold: one, scoop up pretty books to dump in my HPB “sale fodder” bag (left side pic) -- I do not feel bad about this as long as I’ve given people who might genuinely want them at least a full weekend day plus a bag sale hour to pick them up first -- and two, grab whatever even mildly catches my eye once the bulk has been picked over, because hey, $5 whether I take two books or twenty-five, and *slaps reinforced paper sack* this bad boy can fit so many books.

I’m including the stack on the left just for general interest if anyone’s curious what kind of things I found. I don’t know any of these titles and am not interested in reading them. EXCEPT “Sold,” which I don't need a physical copy of but do love, and am probably going to buy as an e-book at some point because the writing is so profoundly moving. Might even just put that one in a Little Free Library, so strongly do I believe in its literary value to portray a harsh topic in teen-appropriate ways.

Below the cut, photos exclusively of the much-less-pretty, mostly-ex-library books’ covers from the stack on the right, along with extremely and unnecessarily long winded commentary.

(hmmm, I did not arrange these in the same order I wanted to talk about them, but I guess I’d better follow the pics)

Adult Fiction & Nonfiction

1. Spill Simmer Falter Wither - Sara Baume (2015): Will I love it, IDK. Will I keep it...even less sure. But it’s about a solitary older man who adopts an unwanted dog, and it seems very introspective and beautifully written without being too heavily literary. This is almost always a trap in literary fiction, but what if it wasn’t.

2. The Distance Home - Orly Konig (2017): Ooh! on my TBR for like 5 years now, because horses + women’s fiction, everything in the summary appeals to me. Grabbed partly to ensure I have access in case the last copy gets weeded after this, and partly because there’s a good chance I’ll want to keep it.

3. The Escape - Lisa Harris (2020): would not have paid for this on its own, but on bag sale day I grabbed it for convenience just to read because “two air marshals transporting a dangerous prisoner crash-land in the mountains and everyone except them dies and now they need to catch the bad guy on the loose” really ticks all my law-enforcement-character-loving + wilderness setting + thriller preferences. [edit: it was exactly what I expected, nothin’ special. but to my delight, the library stickers actually peeled beautifully off this one so now it’s going in the sale pile]

4. Cold Day in the Sun - Sara Biren (2019): Oops, this one’s YA. Anyway, still haven’t read her books but I suspect I might like them, and they are so unpopular here that the library only has 1 copy left; it won’t last much longer. So, convenience again.

5. Wanderer - Sara Leon (2016): I skimmed through this last year when I was looking for pianist/composer characters and it wasn’t quite what I was in the mood for, but it’s slim and at some point I will be in the mood for “a novel that explores the stifled, unspoken feelings of a music teacher and his former student, and the damage done by their years of silence.” And the library weeded BOTH of its remaining copies at once in this sale so yeah, tucking this safely aside for later.

6. Leaving the Pink House - Ladette Randolph (2014): university press published memoir, I don’t know if I will really like her but there are no local library copies left and I love houses so much that this immediately grabbed my attention: on September 12, 2001, Randolph and her husband bought a dilapidated farmhouse on twenty acres outside Lincoln, Nebraska, and set about gutting and rebuilding the house themselves. They had nine months to complete the work. The project, undertaken at a time of national unrest and uncertainty, led Randolph to reflect on the houses of her past and the stages of her life that played out in each, both painful and joyful.

Children’s & YA (mostly)

7. My Friend Flicka - Mary O’Hara: One of two I bought on Thursday. Not the most beautiful copy but not a bad one either, 1960s ex-school-library and fairly clean pages. Because I was just thinking about how odd it is that I neither own a copy of this very famous novel, nor ever see copies of it at these sales, despite owning the latter two books in the trilogy. I’d like to reread it, and haven’t since childhood.

8. I Tell A Lie Every So Often - Bruce Clements (1974): OH HEY, one of the long-weeded-from-local-libraries titles from Lost Masterworks of Young Adult Lit?? Instant snag! I’m always interested in reading those for myself, even though this one does not look nearly as exciting as hoped. Will probably read & release.

9. Vinyl Princess -- Yvonne Prinz (2009): I don’t remember this title well but I remember it fondly, and every time I look at it on Goodreads I think about rereading it, not least because she was really ahead of the curve in writing about a modern day teen who thinks music sounds better on records. I always promised myself I’d buy it if the library ever weeded its last copy, and that day has come.

10. King of the Screwups - K.L. Going (2009): actually, nah, this one’s going in the sale bag as originally planned. While sorting them I caught enough in the jacket summary about a complicated father/son relationship to make me wonder “Loki vibes?” and consider trying it, but upon further examination this just looks like an awful time. Trashy teen boys are not where it’s at for me.

11. More Tales for the Midnight Hour - J.B. Stamper (1992): I bought Still More Tales for the Midnight Hour as a teen and have loved it ever since; with this one I think I might finally have the full set o’ spook.

12. Both Sides of Time - Caroline B. Cooney (1995): I read so many of her books in high school, but I remember this one being one of the best. Mass market paperback is a very convenient way to store access. Plus, Laurel Leaf imprint is my favorite paperback imprint. very nostalgia/comfort.

13. Call it Courage - Armstrong Sperry: an elementary school fave I’ve almost forgotten, bought to revisit briefly and then I’ll release because holy hell is this cover ugly, and the too-stiff binding basically made to crack and dump the pages out.

14. Vacancy - K.R. Alexander (2021): THE children’s horror author of the modern day. I’ve actually read a couple of his books recently because the covers alone were so creepy, and had a blast, so I’d like to read this one too and then I’ll let it go. Much better in print than as an e-book, but library only has it on Libby.

15. Nop’s Trials - Donald McCraig (1985): Ending where we began, with an adult-fiction dog book set in nearly the same region... Except this is much better. It’s the other one I bought Thursday, and the closest to treasure in the set, because I read this in high school and 5-star loved it and have been looking out for a cheap copy ever since, but only ever saw it in a huge and heavy oversized hardcover. At last, the mass market paperback of my dreams/same as the one I originally read is mine.

BONUS FUN FACTS: 

(because I love to talk books and literally cannot shut up about them)

1. I spent an hour walking around and it was honestly fascinating to watch the number of books shrink in real time, circulating volunteers constantly consolidating sections and folding up/removing emptied tables. Practically a time lapse vid.

2. I donated a full grocery bag of books to this sale myself, and I was so excited by how many I saw on Thursday that were gone by Sunday. I also took back 3 of them (not pictured above) that had not been taken by an hour before sale ending time, because I was Personally Offended about it -- one of them was a horse book! i just accidentally had two copies of it -- and went, “fine, I’ll bring them somewhere they’re appreciated!”

(joke, but I really do plan to donate them to another sale and hope they have better luck in a new county. I don’t know for sure what the Friends do with unsold stock after these sales and I don’t want to, but I’d rather not risk ones I like being thrown out / donated anywhere that will pulp stock en masse if I don’t have to.)

[neonponders]

Here’s a prologue for my The Mummy AU!

This all started because of the moodboards above, created by @memes-saved-me and @harringrove000 . I just couldn’t help myself.

Here’s my original post about this au (it includes links to the moodboards) ~

And @hoegrove I know you wanted to see this so 🌹

Read on ao3 ~

• • • • • • •

The overhead bulbs and candlelight cast harsh shadows and warm light throughout the grimy bar. Everyone glistened with sweat from the desert heat. The night brought with it gentle, cool breezes over the Nile, but in this packed place, the occasional thworp of paper and silk fans being thrown open could be heard. Even the swish of luxurious ostrich feathers swayed to cool people off.

Steve moved his legs to cross his knees, the papyrus green trousers brushing against the military beige breeches of the man sitting opposite him at their small, round, gambling table. They had gathered quite an audience; the messy pile of money had long since included bets beyond Steve and this man’s wagers. Steve hadn’t caught his name, but he felt the heat of his body through their trouser fabrics, and more than once caught himself staring at how the light gleamed in that dark blond, honeyed hair.

“You trying to distract me?”

“No,” Steve smirked, “I’m trying to get comfortable.”

“Stressed?” the man crooned.

Steve removed his gaze from those pin-made waves of his hair. They had long since given up their shape to the day’s heat, but a tress outright curled over this handsome bastard’s forehead. Steve dared to think he looked better unkempt. “Not one bit. Play your cards. You’re dressed like you have somewhere to be.”

“I’m in no rush,” he replied lethargically, like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Steve let his eyes wander him a little more. “You sure? You look like a military man.”

“Honorably discharged.”

“Congratulations.”

Steve knew his eyes were blue, but in this lighting they looked like clear glass over onyx pupils when he tilted his head to look at Steve curiously. The latter retaliated before he even spoke. “Is that a strange thing to say?”

The blond shrugged with a gentle shake of his head as he plucked at his cards, rearranging them in his hand. “Only if you worship at the alter of hyper patriotism and military imperialism.”

Some chuckles sounded around them as harlots shared long, cigarette filter stems with their johns, and the barkeeps made glass clatter. Steve exhaled in a huff. “Whatever that means. I’d like to win, already. Play your cards.”

“You first, dear.”

He did, laying down his fan of cards underneath the row of cards from the dealer. The Madame of the place listened to their exchanges with amusement but kept it professional as she narrated, “Full house. Always something to brag about. And you, Mr. Hargrove?”

Hargrove, huh? Steve mused as he watched for any amount of discomfort on the man’s face. He didn’t get it.

“Straight flush,” the Madame said, aligning the winning cards with those from Steve’s and her own line. Steve had practically given him that win. And more of his father’s allowance than he would ever admit.

Hargrove moved a stack of chips to the Madame’s side of the table for a substantial tip, and then offered that hand to Steve. “Good game, Mr…?”

His eyes lolled under a slow blink before he accepted the hand. “Just Steve. It’s what I get for losing.”

“Let me top off your drink, at least, Steve.”

He took his loss with grace and stood to follow Hargrove to the bar. The crowd separated for him apart from a random slap on the back and long fingers stroking his hair in consolation. Hargrove reached the bar first, and watched all this while leaning back on his elbow. A light overhead moved across the exposed skin of his chest, just as honeyed as the rest of him, and the sparse hair there. Steve discretely lowered his gaze as if to not trip over the tiled stair raising the bar from the regular floor.

“Do you come here often?”

Steve snorted a quiet laugh and lifted his gaze. “You’ve already got me here. Ask me a real question.”

Hargrove smiled as the barkeep approached. “A bottle of red, please. Two glasses. It is a real question. People respond to you as if they know you here.”

Steve mirrored his stance and leaned into his elbow on the bar. “My sister and I come here sometimes. When we want to get away from…all of it.”

Hargrove hummed deep in his chest as the sound of a cork popping briefly diverted their attention. “Sister?”

“Stepsister, if you want to get specific, but she’s not here. You’ve only got little ol’ me.”

The barman poured two glasses without stopping, holding the vessels together with a practiced hand before he set them and the bottle on the bar. Hargrove paid him as he replied, “I have one of those. A stepsister, I mean. Although I don’t know how much it counts if you haven’t seen your so-called family in years.”

Steve reached for his wine and asked before he meant to, “Do you miss her?”

It was a bit too personal of a conversation between strangers. Hargrove’s pause made him quickly add, “You don’t have to answer that.”

“I’ll miss you, depending on how the rest of this night goes.”

Steve coughed on his wine. Hargrove chuckled as he offered a pale blue handkerchief to wipe his mouth. “Are you always this generous to people who’ve lost money to you?”

“Only the ones who are pretty enough to be a prize themselves.”

Steve’s eyes lolled in his head despite the rouge blooming in his cheeks and dusting across this throat. “If I’d known you were so used to winning I might’ve spent my money better.”

Hargrove’s eyes held steadily on him. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

* * *

Steve’s back pressed hard enough against the wall to break the kiss with a huff. He craned his face towards the sky as Hargrove made him shudder with soft lips and prickling stubble on his throat. They could hear the bar’s goings-on just on the other side of the exterior wall, but leaving the humid interior was refreshing on their wine-flushed skin. The darkness of the Cairo alleyway freed Hargrove’s hands to massage Steve’s backside.

As Steve caught his breath, he managed to slip his own hand between them, feeling the muscle of that chest for himself before he ducked to taste Hargrove’s skin. Salt and the neutral sweetness of a man’s skin. He liked the little sounds that Hargrove hummed while making a mess of Steve’s hair.

“I want this hair all over me. Better than silk.”

Steve lifted back up to frame Hargrove’s head in his hands, claiming and tasting and licking into his mouth. The way Hargrove kissed—like Steve was an oasis and honeycomb. Delicious and all his. It made Steve want to have him right here. Better than wine and cigars—intoxicating, having this kind of attention all to himself.

Hargrove hummed again, this time to get Steve’s attention. “Put your arms around me. I’ll do the rest.”

He didn’t fully understand until his trouser buttons slid free with ease. Steve openly moaned in the wake of Hargrove’s hand massaging his front, finding which direction his erection stood and easing it out into the night air. As his warm palm pumped him to aching readiness, Steve’s hands continued to wander Hargrove’s body. The man kissed him in a rush, almost brutally plundering his mouth before releasing to latch onto Steve’s collarbone.

One of Steve’s arms remained anchored around Hargrove’s shoulders. The rest of him rocked gently against the man intent to take him apart in a back alley—not that Steve minded one bit. His other hand pushed aside that half-open shirt to squeeze a nipple. Hargrove groaned deliciously and lifted his head to give Steve’s ear the same tantalizing attention—

Steve frowned a little at the hard and heavy rock of a thing knocking against his hand. It didn’t take much to pry the thing out of Hargrove’s jacket breast pocket. Steve didn’t have the time or the lighting to see what it really was. He had half a mind to hold onto it just out of petty spite. A token for taking so much out of his own wallet.

A reason for Hargrove to find him the next day.

Except a voice made Steve chirp, “Huh?”

And then Hargrove faced him with the same curiosity. They realized together that neither of them had spoken. Gas and oil lanterns were quickly moving through the alleyway, held aloft by harsh voices.

“Shit!” Steve hissed, rapidly putting himself back in his trousers. He yelped a choked sound as Hargrove yanked him out of the alley by his arm.

“We gotta go!”

“No shit!”

“Split up!”

“What?”

“GO.”

With that, Hargrove shoved him right into the vaporous air of a crowded hookah restaurant. Steve could only dodge and duck around rapidly standing patrons as the police flooded inside. The kitchen staff only reacted after he’d already dashed through the room, and by then, the police were too held up to catch up with him. Steve didn’t stop running. He heard yelling and whistles in the streets behind him, but he kept going—Hargrove’s strange stone clutched tight in his hand.

Only once he’d finished a very round-about path back to his lodgings, did he sneak quietly past his sister’s room and light a lamp to see his prize. The octagonal…thing…fit well in his palm. On one face, jagged lines had been finely carved, but all around its edges were familiar hieroglyphics.

“Oh. What the hell—better yet, what is a handsome American in Egypt doing with you in his pocket?”

Steve went over to his writing desk to find his glasses in a drawer. He popped them on and recognized a cartouche when he saw one. “Seti. Pharaoh Seti, huh? Well, Robin’s going to be all over this when she sees it.”

A shrill whistle outside startled him enough to drop it heavily on his floor. The whistle sounded far away, but he remained very still in case the wrath of a woman awoken before dawn barged into his room.

If Robin woke up, Steve remained blissfully unaware. He quickly undressed, washed as much of himself as he was able with the washbasin, and collapsed onto the bed. With Hargrove’s fancy artifact on his bedside table, Steve let the memory of sharp beard stubble and firm hands guide his own down to his cock. He got himself back to standing and finished what Hargrove started quickly.

But it was soft lips, open arms, and steady eyes that eased Steve to longing sleep. A slumber so deep that had his stepsister threw a pillow at him the next morning for oversleeping on her way to work at the National Library.

[chuckbass-love]

20,39,42 with Andy Barber?

Hey, lovely anon. First of all i hope you’re doing well and second of all, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it. It’s been a hot minute since i last wrote for Andy.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Prompts Used: 

20) “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are”

39) “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

42) “I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Warnings: Smut. Sexual intercourse, vaginal sex, spanking, daddy kink, love making (kinda), arguing, swearing, angst and a sprinkle of fluff for good measure. That’s right, used all 3. 18+ you know the drill.

Word Count: 6,796

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @cassercole go check them out💕

Do You Feel What I Feel?

After a long and interesting weekend, you’re a lot less eager to get back behind your desk to work for Andy Barber than you usually are. One reason in particular being that you’ve been dating other people behind his back. See the thing with you and Andy is that you’ve known him for 2 whole years, worked for him for 1 year and been fucking him since the evening of your very first day. He got you the job to work with him after you got laid off.

You met him after he showed up for one of your seminars at college and he gave a presentation on what it’s like to be a lawyer and you just clicked. But it was strictly platonic...until you showed up on that first day dressed in a knee length skirt, a semi sheer polka dot blouse with stockings and heels. He was shocked to say the least. You looked entirely different and he’d never seen you this way before. It turned him on and he let you know it. 

As you were packing your things away and bidding him goodbye for the day, he called you back into his office and instructed you to lock the door behind you before he began to inform you of the effect you had on him. Starting slowly by telling you how he was taken aback by your ability to think on your feet, use your initiative and then just like that, it all came out and he couldn’t control his hunger much longer. 

He kissed you so hard that night that the breath was knocked from your lungs but you loved it, you yearned for more of that feeling and he fucked you so good that you made it a regular thing, without even realising it was becoming one until it was too late. You’d just show up at each others places without a warning and before you knew it, he was fucking you into the mattress and making you cum with a cry of his name.

Now back to the present... you like Andy, in fact if you’re being truthful with yourself, you’ve fallen so madly in love with him that you know it’s time to quit him. He’s like a drug, an addiction and you need to stop going back for more. Hence why you decided that enough was enough. 

You met a guy online, his name is Ashley and he was more than keen to take you out so you happily obliged and sure you had a nice time but there’s just one issue lying in your way. Andy is unsuspecting of your little date and it’s been eating away at you since said date walked you back to your apartment. You know that you need to tell him but you fear that it’ll cost you your job, he did hire you to help you out after all.

Before you can wallow more in your choice to keep things from him, he calls you into his office and you haven’t even gotten any work done yet, you only sat down 5 minutes ago.

What could he possibly want so early on?

“Yes, Mr Barber?” you ask flirtatiously, making him glare up at you before gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him. Which you do.

“So today i’m gonna need you to file this paper work into the data base for me” he starts, lifting up a pile taller than the length of your forearm and now you’re annoyed for real this time. He knows full well that you’re still finishing off the stack from Friday and yet here he is presenting more work for you to do “get it done by the end of the day” he finishes, flashing you another stone cold glare as he looks back down at the paper on his desk, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence for a second longer.

Until you speak up “Andy, you know i’m still finishing off Frid....”

“That’s Mr Barber to you and you can leave now” his rude and snappy interruption makes you scoff as you shake your head at the tone in his voice, he’s not in any mood today to help you out or make exceptions. So you do as you’re told, hauling the heavy pile into your arms and lugging it back to your desk outside. Once it’s on your desk, you walk back to shut his door before he asks, making sure to slam it harder than needed to make it known that you’re angry with him.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care though.

Now to get started on all of this work that’ll probably mean you staying later tonight, just brilliant. Guess your second date with Ashley will have to be rescheduled.

------------------------

You finish off half of the pile by the time it gets to 1:30pm and you’re due a lunch break round about now so seeing as though Andy hasn’t left his office all day, you decide to pop out for some food with one of the other assistants, Stacey. Thank God you don’t have to face him since you have absolutely no clue what could have possibly rattled his cage this morning to make him snap at you like that. The two of you have always had this ongoing joke of you calling him Mr Barber and he usually allows you to call him by his first name until today when that alone was enough to anger him.

It’s obvious that you’ll have to put off telling him about your date until he’s in a better place to receive the news. You’re hoping that since he’s always been opposed to commitment that he’ll take it well but the halt in your fooling around might annoy him a little. It’s not your problem though, he always knew you were planning to eventually settle down.

Upon your return to your desk you find Andy sat in your chair, looking through your work “where the hell have you been?” he mutters as he avoids your eyes “you know what, don’t even bother making excuses, my office, NOW” you jump out of fear as he raises his voice slightly at you for the first time in the whole 2 years you’ve known him. Your anxious body shuffles into his office, scared of what’s about to happen.

“Was i not clear enough earlier Y/N? Hm? Because i specifically remember asking you to have this work done by the end of the day. You get off at half 4, it’s now half 2 and you’ve only done half. Do i pay you to galavant around town with Stacey or do i pay you to do your goddam job?”

In the 2 years that you’ve known Andy, he’s also never made you cry, yet here you are trying your absolute hardest not to let these tears fall in front of him.

“You pay me to do my job and i’ve tried my best to get it done. I-I’m sorry” you stand there awkwardly, picking at the torn skin around your fingernails as you stare hopelessly at your stilettos. “Well your best isn’t fucking good enough Y/N, try harder. You can stay here until all of the paperwork is done and that includes Friday’s load too now close the door on your way out”

Is he actually serious? He can’t be, surely. What is wrong with him?

“No” you stand tall, hands on your hips as you talk back and if he was angry before then now he’s livid with you “What do you mean no?” he questions, stepping towards you, hands in his pockets as he awaits your answer.

“I said, no. Just because you’re in a bad mood for whatever reason does NOT mean that you get to stand here and humiliate me. I said no and that’s final. I’ll do my best to get today’s work done before i leave but Friday’s work can wait and i don’t care what nasty comment you have in store to throw back at me”

His face screws up as he clenches his jaw again, you should feel really scared right about now, that comment might have just cost you this job but you don’t care. If that’s the case then you’ll walk out of here proud of yourself along with one less so called friend in your life.

“Bad mood? I’m furious and you don’t even know the half of it” he picks his phone up, tapping a couple times before handing it to you and walking back to his desk to sit down. You watch the clip in his camera roll, squinting as you try to make out the faces in it and then you realise that it’s you and Ashley. Fuck. He was there that night at your apartment, he was obviously coming to see you and you didn’t even know it. He must have seen you with another man and changed his mind. You feel awful as you look back at him, he just sighs once you place the phone onto his desk.

“Andy, i-i”

“Save it. If you wanted to cut our little deal off then you shoulda just said. I don’t appreciate being lied to Y/N and i don’t fancy talking about it with you for a minute longer so just do as your fucking told and get back to work”

All you can do is turn around and walk away since you’ve done enough damage already. But all you can think about is the look on his face after you watched the incriminating clip. He looked sad, broken even and it’s replaying in your brain over and over. Torturing you. 

This is why he’s been so nasty today, so demanding and harsh. He’s hurt that you lied to him, hurt that you were with someone else, even if it was just dinner. You still arranged a date with another man and went and what Andy has never wanted to admit before, not even to himself is that he really likes you. In fact no, he’s fallen madly in love with you. 

Every waking moment of his life is spent with you on his mind. You even corrupt his dream world too and it’s gotten out of control. Saturday he decided it was time to cut your little deal off and start over. He was going to do it right, confess his feelings, ask you on a date and then take you out and treat you like a princess.

Ever since he laid his blue eyes on you that first time when he was doing the presentation in your class at college, he liked you. You asked so many questions, engaged a lot in the debates and he knew then that you were going to play an important role in his life. And you have. You became close friends, going out regularly and doing things like bowling and eating dinner together more than a handful of times. He enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his but there was this unspoken rule that you had to remain just friends. He wasn’t ready for anything serious and you were still not over your ex.

But then when you walked through his office door on your first day dressed in that skirt, those heels and stockings and lets not forget about that blouse. He was trying his hardest not to drool. One things for sure though, he was painfully hard for you.

When he came to your apartment Saturday and saw you outside your door with some preppy douchebag who was around your age, he felt this lump in his throat form as his heart ached. Sure he expected you to get a man eventually after all you are 24 and he’s in his 30’s. But he didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He also didn’t expect you to have such an effect on him the way you have but here he is, angry at you for moving on without telling him and angry that you aren’t his anymore. 

He feels bad for shouting at you today, for being so harsh with his words. He could see the tears pooling in your eyes right away but he was too pissed off to stop and now he’s almost certain that any friendship the two of you had is gone for good thanks to his vile actions.

Another 2 hours tick by and you’re still working at your pile, you’ve still got a lot left being that he’s included Friday’s in your load too. It’s going to be a long night so you pick your phone up and call Ashley.

“Ashley hey, it’s uh, it’s Y/N. Listen, i have to work late today so i won’t be able to make it” you announce and as he responds, Andy opens his door but you don’t notice.

“Rain check? Uh...” you trail off, trying your hardest to decide if you even want to see him again. It’s like you’re torn. On one hand you have Andy, your dream man. A man who knows your body like the back of his hands and a man who can more than likely take care of you if you just took a leap and told him about your feelings but then on the other hand you have Ashley. A guy who is your age and who makes you laugh a hell of a lot. Before you can even decide though, you hear a cough behind you. It’s Andy.

“Ashley can i call you back? It’s just now’s not really a good time, i have a lot of work to get done”

You hang up the phone as your eyes are locked onto Andy’s and the moment your phone is placed back onto your desk he wraps his large hand around your wrist, lifting you up off your chair and tugging you into his office. You watch as he locks the door behind him before going back to sitting behind his desk.

“You gonna see him again?” he asks, jaw clenched.

“I-I uh, i don’t know. I’m a little torn right now” your eyes settle on his plump pink lips, wanting nothing more than to bite down on his bottom one as you sink down onto his cock but you’re dirty thoughts come to a staggering halt as he speaks. “Torn with what? You like him right?” why is he asking you these things? Is he trying to torture himself with the details.

“Yes i mean no i mean I don’t know. I like him but i don’t think i can date him”

“How come?”

“Because i like someone else, in fact i love someone else”

Andy feels his heart sink further as more cracks appear threatening to shatter it completely. You love someone else and now he’s truly out of the game.

Rage works it’s way back into his body and he can’t help but take it out on you “did you sleep with him? Huh? Did the douche bag get to fuck that tight cunt of yours?”

At first you find him funny, laughing as you look around the room, anywhere but his eyes but then your own rage sets in.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, he didn’t. We had dinner and that’s it” you state, matter of factly as you place your hands back onto your hips..

“Bullshit”

“Is that what you really think of me Andy? You think i’d just give it up to any guy that even looked my way. Wow, i knew you were a lot of things but vicious was definitely not one of them and what’s that i smell? Is it jealousy? Surely not.” you tut, shaking your head “I don’t think i even know you at all by the looks of things if you thought lying to me was better than being honest and trust me, i’m not jealous in the slightest, in fact i pity you. It’s your sex life that will suffer” he doesn’t falter for even a second as he stares you down and just as he anticipated, you’re the first one to break, looking away from him. You can’t help the way your heart starts to race from all of the fury filling up your body. How dare he.

“I was only keeping it from you until i found the right time to tell you. And don’t you dare think for one second that just because we’ve slept together that you have any right to comment on my sex life. You made it perfectly clear that monogamy wasn’t your thing so don’t be mad when i finally want to move on from being someone’s fuck buddy” you spit, heat rising to your cheeks as you realise what you just said. Fuck.

“I’ll comment on whatever i fucking want to so quit the bitching and yeah, i don’t do commitment but i sure as hell wouldn’t be with you even if i did”

You don’t respond to him this time, there’s no quick comeback to fire his way, no insult that could mean you having the upper hand again. Nothing is left but shock and disappointment. He really said that, he really played on your biggest insecurity. He played on it and used it to his advantage, to get the upper hand and win the argument.

“What? Got nothing to say?” he snorts, smug grin on his face. Watch his smile disappear now...

“I love you, Andy” you finally get the words out and you feel as if you’re going to choke on them and die right here in his office. Cause of death, unrequited love.

“W-what?” he’s practically speechless, his words barely audible.

“I’m so madly in love with you and i have been for a while now. But i continued to shut my feelings out and reject other guys because i came to the realisation that having you in any way that i could would be enough for me even if it meant that i couldn’t have you in the way that i’ve always wanted. But none of this matters now, right? Because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel and where you stand. You wouldn’t date me even you did date and that’s fine but at least now both our cards are on the table”

He looks up at you, using his index finger to force you to look back at him and when you do, he looks so deep into your eyes almost as if he’s attempting to see into your soul. Like he’s trying to search for any signs of dishonesty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Instead of going out with other guys you shoulda told me and been honest about it?” is all he can say and that’s the last response you expected but what catches you off guard the most is how he said it, almost like he was hurt and relieved simultaneously.

“Andy, you’re my boss and you made it clear that you didn’t want a relationship” he has absolutely no right to lecture you about honesty when he’s spent the entire time he���s known you blabbering on about how the single life is better for him and how he’d hate to be tied down again. You roll your eyes as you move away from him when he attempts to move closer.

Silence falls upon the two of you and it seems never ending, leaving you no choice but to leave. The moment you turn around to walk away he’s on his feet too “where are you going?” the tone his voice makes it sound as though he’s pleading for you to stay without actually saying the words.

“I’m going back to my desk to do my fucking job, just like you told me to do earlier” you turn back around but just as you expected, he stops you “look. I’m sorry, okay. I was just mad that you”

“Mad about what? That i went out on a date? I’m a single woman Andy and despite our little deal, i don’t belong to you so you have no right to be mad at me for doing what any other single person does”

He bites down on his bottom lip as he runs his fingers through his perfectly styled locks, messing them up instantly “God, you’re so fucking infuriating”

“I’m infuriating? You really are clueless to your own behaviour aren’t you? I just told you that i love you and you still haven’t told me if you feel the same. So i think that says it all, don’t you?” you stop yourself before continuing your rant, trying your hardest to prevent something worse slipping out. Right now in your state, you’re bound to say things that you don’t mean and will later regret. “you know what, i think i’m gonna take the work load home and complete it there. I’ll see you tomorrow, if i still have a job that is” you raise your brows at him, praying he doesn’t fire you for your attitude alone. But to your surprise he doesn’t.

“You really think that low of me? That i’d ever fire you because of what’s going on between us outside of this office? Wow” he leans back on his desk and his shoulders drop as he slumps over, looking down at his large calloused hands.

“It’s what i assumed would happen. You’re really gonna pretend like you don’t want me gone after today?”

“I don’t, believe it or not. But i have no time to deal with this discussion any longer, i have to leave early today” he says as he goes back to sitting behind his desk again and turning his computer back on “i don’t expect you to stay any longer, you can take that work home and finish it after your date” he mutters the last few words, pulling a face as if they make him sick.

“Really? We’re back to that again. God i’ve had it with you” you spit, biting down on the inside of your cheek before strutting over to the door but his hand stops you before you even get yours on the lock.

“Let me go Andy. I don’t even want to look at you, let alone be stuck in a room with you” harsh, but in this moment it’s true. He’s done nothing but upset you all day long and even after your stupid decision to confess your love for him, he’s still doing it. You feel so defeated right now that you can’t take another second of his shit.

“Just one more thing and then you’re free to go and fuck whoever you want, whenever you want. How many guys have you been on dates with since we started hooking up?” the desperation is evident in his eyes as they pierce into yours, searching again but this time for the answers before you can even open your mouth to give them to him “one. It was only one date on Saturday night with Ashley” and that’s the truth. You would never repeatedly date behind his back, this was a one off. A one off you’re regretting more as the seconds tick by.

An awkward silence falls upon the two of you once more as he walks back over to his desk, pacing next to it and creating a draft. “Are you planning to see him again?” and he’s back with more questions. Why does he care so much?

He clearly doesn’t love you too otherwise he’d have said it once you confessed your feelings for him. Instead he left you looking like the biggest joke ever, the clown. And you feel so mortified for even believing he’d say it back.

Silly little Y/N, always catching feelings for men who don’t feel the same way back. You’re starting to feel as though you’ll never find someone.

But still his behaviour has you second guessing him. Maybe he does like you and that’s why he’s acting so hurt.

“Maybe i will, after all i am single. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it Andy?” you know full well that you’re pushing down hard on his buttons and you can see his cheeks turn red as his knuckles turn white from his tight grip on the side of the table.

“What you don’t like that? You don’t like the thought of me on top of Ashley, sinking down onto his cock as he touches my body and kis -”

Out of nowhere he interrupts you, slamming his fist down onto his desk “dammit, Y/N, what is it with you? Trying to make me jealous? Because i’ve had just about enough of you running your mouth” he pulls one of the chairs out, falling into it and spreading his legs “In fact. I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use? Huh? Maybe then you’ll shut up about that fucking douche bag” he is jealous, it’s so obvious to you now. He’s jealous of Ashley, jealous of the possibility of him spending time with you and he hates the thought of someone stealing you away from his tight grasp.

You can’t quite believe your ears or your eyes as he spreads his legs further, grazing his hand over the tent in his dress trousers and you can’t help the gulp that follows.

“Andy”

“Shhh, enough talking. I don’t have it in me anymore to argue with you, just come here” he insists but you stand your ground “no. i can’t keep going round and round in circles with you with absolutely no end in sight and with no hope for you to reciprocate how i feel. I’m sorry but i’m leaving”

Yet again, as expected, he clears his throat “fine. I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Like they always do around Andy, your legs turn to jelly and your eyes glaze over along with your better judgement being clouded by x rated thoughts of him railing you. The idea of him touching himself, working his hand expertly around his girthy cock causes arousal to flood your panties. How dare your body betray you like this. How dare your mind do the same. It’s not fair that every time you think you have the upper hand and the dominance, he comes along, snatching it away from you and proving you wrong.

You have absolutely no idea why you’re about to do what you’re about to do other than the fact that your body gravitates toward him like a magnet and it’s out of your control.

So without a second longer to fester or overthink, you spin around on your heels, charging towards him. Andy watches in awe as you drop to your knees and make quick work of his belt. Once you free his cock from the confines of his black Calvin Kleins and into your small hand you spot the droplets of precum oozing out of the slit on his red bulbous head. You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them as you give the tip a couple of kitten licks before spitting all over his shaft and pumping him agonisingly slow.

“Fuck” he groans, rolling his eyes back as he grips the arm rests on the chair when you take him into your mouth “attagirl, sucking daddy’s cock like a fucking pro” his hands grip your face as he continues to watch you go to work, making a mess of yourself as you gag around him,

You don’t bother to issue a warning before taking all of him in your mouth, all the way down to his balls over and over. Making sure to hollow out your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, your tongue licking the underside of him as your hands grasp his balls. He starts bucking his hips up, attempting to fuck your mouth but you push him back down as a whole batch of unholy sounds that only you can elicit from him fall from his perfect lips, the sounds that are so loud and downright filthy that he has no option but to cover his mouth with his hand, biting down one of his thick digits to keep from exposing himself to his unsuspecting colleagues outside.

He soon pulls you off and you do so with a pop. He forces you to look up at him, his hand grabbing your cheeks and squeezing aggressively “no matter what undeserving boys you go out on a date with, no matter who flirts with you. You’re mine, always have been and always will be” he moves you to straddle his lap before he stands up to move the two of you to the couch.

“So no more dates princess, no more other guys. Because i’m the only one who gets to have you. Is that clear?” he cocks his brow up at you and you nod in response before mumbling a quick “yes” to satisfy his need for confirmation and assurance.

He lifts your knee length dress up to your stomach before he gets to touching you, squeezing at your ass cheeks a little too hard for your liking but you secretly love the way he gets so rough with your body, the way he smacks both ass cheeks repeatedly until you wince from how sore he’s made you.

“God, these clothes drive me crazy. Ever since that first day i met you, i’ve wanted you and when you started working here, i was so desperate to fuck you as you wore these stockings and these heels. You’re so fucking hot, princess and you have no idea how crazy you drive me when you bend over, shoving this ass in my face”

He starts to kiss your neck, sloppy open mouthed kisses on the spot that has your back arching as you grip onto the back of his neck to steady yourself. He’s working you up all the more, turning the pool in your panties into a river. You’re dripping wet for him, desperate for him to just fuck your greedy pussy, desperate to clench down around his cock as he pounds into you.

“You’ve done it before Andy. Many times in fact”

His kisses halt as he smirks at you, that devilish look in his eyes. It always drives you wild “do it again, please, i need it” you beg pathetically and much to your surprise, he does exactly that. He takes your panties, tugging them to the side and playing with your soaked core a little as well as touching your bundle of nerves. You whine into the crook of his neck as you urge him to hurry before he eventually pulls his pants further down his legs to position himself at your entrance better. You don’t even have time to breathe before he’s knocking the air from your lungs as he fucks himself to the hilt inside of you.

The way his pace continues to pick up until it’s rendering on animalistic is causing you to let out the loudest and sexiest sounds, it’s like music to his ears but he can’t have anyone hearing this. He flips the two of you over so that you’re below him, your legs pushed back to your head and you hold them in place. His hand covers your mouth as he slides himself back in, not making any effort to start slow “you’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are” he continues with rough snaps of his hips as he fucks into you with reckless abandon and causing the sweet music you make to vibrate onto his hand.

“Yeah, like this? Like the way i fuck this pretty little cunt?”

Thrust

“Bet his cock couldn’t even touch what mine does to you, the way you cry out for more and scream my name every time. The way i can make you cum with just my words and my fingers. God, such a dirty little girl for me, ain’t that right, princess?”

Satisfied hums follow his questions along with a frantic nod as you feel the coil tightening in your stomach, like a knot twisting and pulling, you’re so unbelievably close that you can almost taste the impending orgasm. “Don’t make a fucking sound when i move my hand, okay?” again you nod in response and he moves his hand, smiling down at you with adoration in his eyes before moving his hand to your aching sex. His fingers pressing down onto your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles on it and as soon as your walls flutter around him, he knows your close.

“Gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a mess all over my cock? My filthy girl, go on baby, cream all over me”

Just like that, along with his permission you let everything go, allowing yourself to really feel the pleasure. Your walls flutter around him again and again and each time he pulls out of you he spots your juices as they cover his cock beautifully. The sight alone has his hips snapping harder, the sound of his skin slapping against yours bounces off of the walls in his office and you accidentally let out a lewd moan that he swallows with his kiss as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer “cum for me daddy” your encouragement sends his entire world spinning as his thrusts stagger. 

His cock jolts inside of you, twitching like crazy before his cream fills you up deliciously, painting your walls in thick ropes. You arch your back as your arms wrap around his neck. You need to feel his lips on yours.

He kisses you so hard that your teeth clash, making the two of you chuckle into each others mouths before attempting again. This time his tongue forces it’s way past your lips, battling with yours as he rides the two of you through your dramatic and intense highs.

Once his hips still and he pulls out, he flops down next to you. The two of you are nothing but a panting mess. Chests rising and falling along with your erratic heart beats.

“I love you too” he confesses, making you gasp as you turn your head to look at his spent body, the way his eyes meet yours and tears pool in them has your eyes doing the same.

“Andy”

“I’m not finished. I’ve felt this connection with you since the day i first met you, it caught me completely off guard. When we made the deal for it to be just friends, i was upset. I wanted a lot more but i know i wasn’t ready just yet. But the way you’d draw out laughter from me that no one else has ever been able to and the way you’d boss me around only made my feelings grow. Then we fucked and it was like confirmation to me that i was well and truly screwed. But i kept coming back for more because it was like an addiction, i had to have you in any way that was possible and if sex was the only way then i’d have stayed single forever just to keep you close. I’d have done anything to be able to hold your body and kiss your neck and make you feel good. If doing that as just your fuck buddy was the only way then so be it. But i got to a point where just fucking you wasn’t enough. I wanted something real with you. So on Saturday-” before he can even finish you sigh, sitting up.

“You came to tell me how you felt? Andy, why didn’t you just say that earlier?” you don’t know how to feel right now. You’re so consumed by emotions that your head is spinning. One one hand you’re angry, annoyed and upset that he kept this from you and didn’t just tell you he felt the same when you confessed how you felt. But then on the other hand you’re relieved and happy that he does feel the same. This was never some unrequited love, it’s always been reciprocated and real. 

All the lingering stares you’d catch, all of the compliments thrown your way and the insults hurled at random guys who’d ogle you whenever you were out in public with him or whenever another guy at work would take an interest.

“I saw you with that guy Y/N and i broke down. Then today, i expected you to come in and talk to me about it but instead you sat down at your desk, acted normal and didn’t say a word. I was hurt that you’d keep this from me. I know we both felt these things and i know both of us were unaware of the feelings being reciprocated but you still didn’t tell me you’d even thought about seeing other people and i guess i just expected more from you, more honesty”

He’s right. You don’t have it in you to argue because he’s right. He might have had his reasons for hiding his true feelings but you hid your date from him and that’s a lot worse. How was he supposed to just come out with it when all he could think of was you with Ashley.

“You’re right. I was wrong, i didn’t even think about the effect it would have and i was selfish. To tell you the truth i only went out with that guy because i was trying to move on from you, i didn’t want to keep feeling this strongly with no possibility of you feeling the same so i did the first thing i knew to do, date some other guy”

Andy can’t say he isn’t relieved to hear you admit that preppy college boy means nothing to you but it’s bitter sweet, you saying that you thought your feelings were one sided so you wanted to move on to avoid getting hurt further makes him hurt too. You’ve always meant more to him than just some friendship or some steamy sex. You’re the first woman he’s even looked twice at since Laurie and that means a whole lot more than you’ll ever know or understand.

“So what now?” you ask, puppy dog eyes showing as you await his response.

“I know it’s a bit backwards but how about a date tomorrow?”

God, he really is so handsome, so sweet. His deep and raspy chuckles make you giggle along with him as you straddle him once again, crashing your lips to his, his beard scratching at your face just the way you like.

He pulls away for a second “is that a yes?” once more you shake your head, tutting at him “a thousand times yes, Mr Barber. Yes i’ll go out with you” he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you flush against his suit clad torso, kissing you eagerly and smiling into it. He finally got the girl.

---------------------------------

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[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support. 

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

 -

  When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us. 

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

 -

  I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside. 

Turning back to my car, I  wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology.  "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Heyo! I was wondering if you could do a scenario during the uprising arc where the reader starts to realize she has feelings for Levi but at first he rejects her? Then during the night before Shiganshina he realizes about her feelings and ends up returning them knowing he doesn't want her to get hurt or die? Some angst fluff please and thank you!

Okay anon you have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this. It's super long and I love how it came to me so naturally. I hope you enjoy

Warnings: a little angst!?

Tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Promise

It all started at the sight of his wet fingertips grazing the broken rim of a teacup. A flutter, a feisty spark in your heart that seemed to drown it in full might had made its presence known to you in a very particular, unwanted moment. The flicker of a tiny flame danced before your eyes, sat at the frame of the window near the sink where you proceeded to rinse through washed dishes.

Levi's pale, chapped skin pulled on his knuckles leaving an unnatural yellowish white tone behind, indicating his involvement with excessive amounts of cleaning products. And for the first time, the sight really pulled a string in your poor heart in a way that was enough to convince you to break the dense silence in the room.

But maybe, you thought, Levi wouldn't want to talk to you.

With an unforgiving steel gaze he stared at your face, blinking in soft, yet erratical paces as you stopped plumping the water from running. In response your tongue was forced to slip inside your mouth and push any unspoken word back to its source, in the depths of your brain. All of a sudden you felt so afraid to talk, so petrified by the general idea of a three syllabus word that wouldn't ever spare the misery off of anyone.

Rejection

Captain seemed to be on the rejective side nevertheless so nothing regarding your newly discovered feelings would matter to him anyway, so in a way you blamed yourself for getting overwhelmed with this whole situation. A dark cloud of doubt shadowed your mind with the intention of interrogating your heart's intentions; perhaps you were mistaken. How on earth could you have been in love with the short man, you didn't know. There were far too many differences between the two of you, be it in appearance, mannerism or even -and more importantly- experiences. Supposing you had lived through similar occurances in battles outside the walls was enough for anyone to consider the two of you to be very alike, it was at least dishonorable to compare your childhood or teenage years to his.

"Nice hands" Of course you had managed to utter the most embarrassing choice of words to him, your mind could never cooperate with you when it came to such serious situations, something you hated so very much. The obnoxious dryness of your eyes was slowly migrating in the caves under your tongue, you could feel your mouth drying more and more by each passing second, yet you did nothing to prevent it.

Judging by Levi's puzzled expression which included his head slightly tilting forward as if to hear you better you knew he was as awestruck as you were at your own words. "I don't really understand where you're coming from but thank you, I guess." He spoke, the usual monotone tint staining his voice. You whipped your head back to a fixed position -on your hands this time- to stare down at the sink. The awkward glances you would throw at him went seemingly unnoticed and as time passed by you felt your tention overwhelming you, this time, completely.

Levi wasn't dense to any body language thrown at him and you were painfully aware. His cold eyes never spared you not even a half cornered look as he rubbed the little sponge on the soap bar next to him. His fingers danced on the ceramic plate, cleansing it in fast and very effective movements, leaving you staring in awe. Whether he was ignoring you on purpose or not you didn't know and you didn't want to seek an answer as to why but at this rate he would probably be the one to inquire why you were burning holes in his hands with your gaze. Again.

"I'm so sorry I'm fixated on your hands" Your mouth run, ignoring your mind's orders to stay shut "It's just-" Dammit think quick for once "You have nice nail beds."

There it was. The evidence that your words had actual brains and that they formed the most improper sentences on their own, just to torture you and push you deeper into piles of goowey, mushy shit. If Levi was anyone else he would have been laughing his ass of at the stupidness of your speech, you knew you would be laughing too if this wasn't as serious. Just as you were sure you heard a chuckle Levi placed the sponge on the bar of soap carefully and extended his arm, fully displaying his hand.

He seemed to study it like it was the first time he had ever even noticed it. The slick, long fingers, the oval shaped nails, his torn open knuckles. Perhaps you were kidding him for the lack of hair on the base of fingers he used to hold his blades with, those were burnt with years of being worn out by the steel triggers of the blades. He speculated this was common among most soldiers, so it didn't seem like a reason to be kidded for and in addition you never were the person to just spit senseless insults as jokes to your comrades.

"Is there even a point to talk about my hands? They're normal hands to me."

You bit your lip as your eyes widened in shock. Realisation hit you that this was probably more that absurd to Levi as it was to you, seeing you had started to talk about his hands out of nowhere. Your mind, in a state of panic, was in the midst of attempting to process every idiotic sentence you had the audacity to blurb out, but it never seemed to find an answer. Boiling with embarrassed, you wiped the water of your hands to your pants, an act that caught Levi's eye, and went to grab the first wooden chair that was in your path. You needed to sit down, to process whatever this was.

Yet, the only explanation you could find was that there was a raging wildfire in the pits of your stomach everytime your thoughts wandered on Levi. Yes, it was possible that what had started as an admiration, a tiny spec of a crush for the slender featured man had been growing on you since forever, but you had always burried it deep, in any hellhole that should accommodate such emotions as this was war and not the plot of sappy romance novel.

The air was cut down short in the room when Levi sat at a chair beside you, watching you over in such demanding manner that only he could master. He proceeded to light the only candle that stood at the middle of the table, possibly in hopes of flaring a conversation or causing a sane sequence of sentences to finally fall from your tongue. It was still unbeknownst to him what had caused you to trip over words as if you were a learning toddler and he yearned to find out, as a sole friend, not as the stern corporal he presented himself to be.

"(y/n)" His voice was tender as he spoke either much mindful to the teens who were sleeping in the next room or unwilling to let a private conversation between the two of you be heard. "If you think I can help with whatever is going on quit acting like a brat and tell me what's on your mind."

Momentarily, you wondered whether he'd stick to his words in case you spilled your heart's infatuating agony but you felt unable to think of a possible dominating scenario in the chaos of your mind. As self destructive as it sounded, you'd prefer to be the one to break your own heart rather than having to stand back and be a martyr to him tearing it off your chest and tearing it. Knowing Levi, this wasn't anything physically impossible, but you doubt that he could ever be as harsh with you.

"I'm just stressed. I have a lot on my mind."

"Erwin's trial and the future of the scouts, huh? Or is it that Hange works your ass off with those experiments?" You scoffed in denial to all of his inquiries, knowing full well that you could have used them as excuses. Levi's sharp hand began a short trip with sole purpose to land at the top of your head, through your loose locks, in an affectionate manner, a little something you had picked up he would do when he really cared for someone. Everyone knew he wasn't particularly touchy, except for some emotional moments with his closest people; a hand on a shoulder and a pat in the head were mostly what you had witnessed him indulging. His hand ruffling with your hair wasn't profound and new at all, he had done so many times after the two of you would strongly disagree over formations and orders, showing you how much he appreciated your strong wits and your clever ideas. What was new was that the lone touch burned your sculp like hot iron and made your insides twitch.

"I'll make us some tea" the screeching creak of the chair being pushed back shook of your train of thoughts enough to form a reaction to his hand that still rested on your head. Almost as if he didn't want to take it off "We can discuss your problem in a-"

"Sit down" you demanded, voice stern, masked with seriousness that caught him off guard. "Take your hand off my hair, it hurts." You pleaded with your eyes to stay as dry as they were before but you were certainly unsure of whether they'd listen. "Can't you see?"

What was there not to see really. Levi probably knew of your fondness of him way before you managed to realise, as in second thought every move you had ever made in his presence betrayed you. He would have never tried to provoke a confession just to laugh at you, that you were sure of, but he had never made a move in reciprocation either, that alone made you sure of your confessions future's end and caused your gut to spit even more fire to the rest of your insides.

Levi was not perplexed, not even for a single moment, at your words that seeked to stab like daggers, he wouldn't allow himself to be toyed by his own emotions just this once. This is an erratical reaction to his touch, a rejection of his affections towards you and he feared he knew the reason. For someone as bright and emotional as you he never would have thought that you could have hid such tormentous emotions so well inside you, only to end up at this moment of snapping.

As much as he'd like not to be hurt in the slightest by your demeanor he couldn't help but feel a tiny string of his heart being pulled. Suddenly it was evident to him why you couldn't take part in normal conversations around him or why you acted so tense in his presence, why you were so rejective of his touches and he wondered if he should have done anything besides unknownably torture you for so long. Whether his heart wanted to hear a confirmation out of your mouth to it's pained pleading for reciprocation, his mind ignored. The time would never be right and as egoistical as it seemed he couldn't bear to lose someone else that close to him, let alone a significant other. From his experience feelings of love and adoration should never be spoken out loud in this cruel world, amongst soldiers, especially. It wouldn't lead to any good.

When you proceeded to speak the pit in his stomach was already welling in frustration and denial. "Levi we've known each other for years and whatever's forcing me to much on my words should stop."

None can do, this couldn't happen here, now, while being on the run by military police as collective criminal. Levi wouldn't allow you to speak those earth shuttering words, even if wanted for them to chaste kiss his ears and echo through his head. "Not like you haven't figured anyways. I'm so pathetic. To fall for my Capt-"

"Don't you dare utter any other word of that sentence. I won't forgive you if you do." His hand reached out to grab yours by the wrist, tightly, as if he didn't know you couldn't stand the intensity of the grip. The silence that towed over the room was freezing, irrational even; it made you want to puke your intestines right onto Levi's shoes. Your heartbeat was so fast, so unrhythmic that you felt like the vital blood red organ would burst out of your chest in a massive mess.

Τhere was an excessive amount of agony emitting from your eyes, slicing through Levi's chest, searching despairately for a sign he had a heart, just to remind you that it didn't belong to you. Your mind traveled through every possible scenario to find a reason as to why you had to endure this, did his affections belong to someone you didn't know of? Hange? Erwin? Nifa seemed to be close to him lately as well. Was he heartbroken before and swore to never love again? You hated that there was not a tiny little space in his heart for you.

Just as this tense moment began, it came to an end when Sasha burst into the room, shotgun on her shoulder and chestnut eyes as sleepy as they could be. Fatigue was overpowering her whole form and it was as evident as ever before your eyes. With a quick, exhausted salute she announced her self, unsure of if you and the captain could see her face under the shadows of the night.

"It's guard change sir!" She spoke.

"I'm coming sweetheart." You got up from the chair you were sat at, breaking your wrist away from Levi's grip in a harsh manner. You didn't spare him a second look as you took another deep breath and locked it in your chest in hopes of seeming a little more mighty. "Go take some rest. You deserve it."

With increasingly fast steps you storm outside the little cottage trying your best not to look back. You wouldn't bear to check if there was still light coming from the kitchen that should indicate Levi's persistent presence. Your knees trembled at the imagery but you wouldn't let your eyes rest behind you not even for a second. He would probably be drinking his tea, unbothered, thinking of anything but you and you would be lying if you were to day that it didn't hurt you. It hurt so much that it sent you on your ass, on the stone tile pattern under your feet. Your heart forced suffocating waves of pain through your whole body only to push out of your eyes in the form of hot, salty tears. As your sobs grew louder and your heartache became unbearable to the point you though you could feel your heart break in two, you pushed the ends of your palms into your eyes sockets to squeeze the pain and itchiness of the tears away. You promised to yourself this was the first and last time you would cry for him.

____

After that night you barely speak with Levi. Aside from following his orders with the eventual 'yessir' as a reply, you have managed to successfully establish a thick barrier between him end you. Your nights of accompanying him in his late hour tea sessions, or teaching him how to knit and embroider were no more. The times you would share your food with him after you'd hear his stomach growl from the small portion he would get were also no more. You had made sure to claim your small acts of affection back to yourself, how could you move on from him if you were trying to be nice.

You would profoundly ignore his gazes, his calls for you at his office at late hours of the night by random cadets. You wouldn't answer to him if it wasn't for something military related and you intended it to keep it that way until the announcements of the feast that would take place before the attempt of retaking wall Maria.

As you passed by a narrow street heading to anywhere away from the crowd of cadets with your drink in your hand, you bumped lousy into the onyx haired male. It was the first time in days or even weeks that you had spared him a glance but your eyes averted his upon impact. You couldn't stand this. It was suffocating you. The clicking of your ankle boots colliding with the ground might have been heard as you turned on your heels to flee the scene but Levi's stern clearing of the throat overshadowed it.

He wasn't having it anymore.

"Oi, wait! Stop on your tracks, this is an order!" He spoke, eliciting a groan out of you as you turned to face him. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Captain, I seek to relax before a very hard mission, spare me with your punishments, I beg of you."

His blood boiled with your every word "Cut the damn crap (y/n) and talk to me like normal." It probably sounded more harsh than he intended but he couldn't find himself in a position to turn back time and rephrase those words. The drained look in your eyes tolled him as well. The fact that you were both so tired by this game of cat and mouse was profound and everywhere in the air around you and Levi didn't know if he could take it anymore.

At first he thought that it was for the best. If you both forgot about your feelings or found ways to distract yourselves by this distance then it would be so much easier for him to push through the upcoming events of Shiganshina, but he was surprised to know he was mistaken. Masking his feelings must have seemed easy when it came to grieve and loss; he'd spent hours in his room, with you, letting everything out and occupying himself with trying to improve his handwriting while doing paperwork, but infatuation, love, was different. Instead of fading by each passing day like anger and grief it only ever became stronger, fonder and more agressive, chewing on his insides in despair. He really did hate that he had allowed himself to feel that way but it was way too late by now. There was nothing he could do and the fact that you ignored him after almost squeezing out that much, much wanted confession was only making him feel more hollow and in pain.

But Levi knew how to control himself, he trusted his ability on that.

"What is there to talk about? Let me live my last day in peace." You barked, your eyes starting to dance towards his direction, landing on his chin, then at the curve of his unfairly full bottom lip, on his button upwards nose.

"Look." He paused, unsure of how to put his words into non hurtful sentences. "If you could just tell me why or share a few words with me. We could damn die tomorrow and I'd regret not ever talking you out of this unfair treatment you're giving me."

You wondered if you should open up your heart to him completely, without accepting any interruption from him just to cleanse your coincidence off of this weight. Upon deciding that there was truly nothing holding you back except for a silly fear of another rejection that could die with you tomorrow you opened your mouth to speak any words that came to your mind.

"Levi, I'm in pain. You rejected me. Plain and simple. I've spent so many nights wondering why I am unworthy of your affections but I can't wrap my head around you anymore."

"Is that the way you feel about me? That you're the one who's unworthy of me?"

"You always think so lowly of yourself. Makes me wonder how you trust your own abilities in battlefield. But yes. So I just want to know who is it for you? Who do you feel you're unworthy of?"

He paused for a moment, to regain any shattered piece of his heart you had thrown back to him with your statement. You didn't hate him, be always knew that, but hearing those words fall out of your mouth engulfed the matter into reality unlike before. He was ready to face it. Even if he was unsure of tomorrow he knew that if he was to stay alive while you were dead he would have torn his own brain out as to avoid overthinking this particular moment.

"You want the truth honestly, brat? I happen to think I'm the one unworthy of you. You've taught me how to write and read, you came into my office to check up on an underground scum like me to see if I was asleep. Dammit you even gave me portions of your food to help me withstand the long nights of sleeping in my chair. What have I done for you? Boss you around? Or is it my looks you're after?"

Your eyes widened at his last statement, momentarily preventing the tears that had gathered in the corners from falling. This wasn't a time to misunderstand his words and act foolish, this was the closest out of a confession you would get from the man and you were awestruck, amazed. If he wanted to know a reason you would give him one.

"I'll admit, you might have the face of an angel Levi and maybe that would initial draw anyone to you, including me but I didn't fall in love with you for that." You could tell he was taken aback by the raw nature of your words only by the small whimper that escaped his throat.

"Over the course of this relationship between us you have been there for me when I couldn't be there for myself, you've helped me improve, your hands are stained with blood and so are mine, but you've knitted with me, you've stitched my wounds, you've let me sleep in your bed when I found a giant cockroach in mine, you're so much more than what you paint yourself to be."

He stared at you with ogling, soft eyes. Had he looked at you like that before you were oblivious but there was something in those steel eyes that magnetised your own gaze, something you couldn't let go off. It was calming the knot in your chest with reassurance, bearing promises of the future but he didn't dare speak on them to ruin the moment. His head closed the distance between the two of you in sharp shiftings and now your lips were brushing his in the most suggestive manner possible. It had all happened so fast that you didn't have a chance to react.

"You realised" he whispered, voice soft as the melancholy of the theme of his words captured your breath "that if you happen to die tomorrow, I, myself will hunt you down, resecure you and then proceed to beat the living shit out of you every single day of your shitty life, right?"

He was so beautiful panting with desire under the moonlight and you would never forget. Out of all times this could have taken place it happened now, hours before a deadly expedition. The feeling of regret flooded your form, his as well for not acting upon your feelings sooner and Levi fought an internal battle as to whether he should kiss you or not. He desired to keep that kiss as a reward that you stayed alive for him but on the other hand he feared that this could well be his last chance to taste you for the first time.

"That's a weird way to say I love you" as his lips brushed closer to yours his heart felt like it would explode, he had pained to claim your lips, just once, just to know the taste of a beloved and he was sure he would be more pained to lose you.

As he pleaded that you came to him tomorrow he pressed his lips on yours, sealing the promise he demanded you to make to him. Your heart melted under the soft lights of a thousand stars.

____

As his arms wrapped around you, tears run down his eyes. That was it. You had fought to keep your promise nail and tooth. You had never managed let him down and to see that you were among the tiny amount of survivors lifted his soul to heaven. The touch of your skin, the salty taste of your neck, it all was real, you were indeed alive and safe in his arms. He wouldn't have to go insane over that fact that he would never get to look into your eyes again.

"I will always keep my promises to you." You hitched with tears running down cheeks, the shock in your core still trembling as ever.

"I know" He panted

"Besides, have you seen yourself in action, I wouldn't want you to hunt me down, oh Lord."

I am. In tears. Also I'm sorry (?) for such in depth descriptions of Levi's hands?

[imaginesga1ore]

Loves Harsh Reality

Summary: Life is a bitch.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader (all platonic)

Warnings: swearing, mention of past/current abuse

Prompt: “You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger.”

Word Count: 1780

Do not copy, translate, or post any of my stories anywhere you write stories, whether that’s here, Wattpad, or Ao3.

-----------------------------

Life never treated you well. Not even when you were just an innocent child, trying to navigate your way in this terrible world. You were forced into a cold and unloving organization that was run by people who don’t really give a shit that you were only 2 when they stole you. They never treated you like a human, more like a laboratory experiment, which kind of went haywire. When you were brought in, the sleaze running this entire operation stripped you of everything you had so far, which was only a name you had just barely begun to learn, and they assigned you a number, much like a court case; experiment 973. And that’s what you went by for the next 23 years of your life.

The day you were rescued from that deranged and psychotic place was...hectic to say the least. It began like any other day while you were their little pet; get woken up at the ass crack of you don’t know when, test out your powers until you physically passed out and then get ungracefully woken again only to be forced to use your powers. This continues for hours on end before these assholes make you go fight actual people in hopes that you aren’t lacking in physical strength. You fight until bodies start piling up and when your sadistic handlers are satisfied with your progress, as if you haven’t they haven’t been training you to take down monsters bigger than Goliath himself. But something wasn’t right and you could feel it in the enclosed space of your cell.

While you normally had a rough awakening by someone poking, prodding, and eventually yanking you out of bed, nobody was there. In fact, there wasn’t even a peep from the cells neighboring yours. That was until you heard multiple gunshots and multiple bodies slumping against the floor. See, the thing about HYDRA is that they’ve trained you for this exact moment but every single ounce of training they’ve ingrained in your body and mind left the building completely as you hunkered down against the wall furthest from the thick, metal door barricading you from the outside world.

Suddenly, the door you were just measly standing behind came crashing down, dust from the unwashed floor rising. After the dust settled, you looked up to see the poster boy of HYDRA himself, the Winter Soldier. “Steve, I’ve got a live one here. Female, looks to be in her mid-20s,” he whispered into his ear piece. He slowly moved closer, putting his weapon away as he noticed your frail body shaking from fear. “У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью?*” Shaking your head, the soldier stopped in front of you, kneeling next to you. “Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя?” Shrugging your shoulders, you made an attempt to look over at him. “That’s ok. How long have you been here?”

“двадцать три года*,” you said, a bit of hesitation in your voice, finding it hard to speak after decades of being punished if you spoke out of turn. As you finished speaking, you heard another voice, one which you assumed belonged to this Steve person.

“Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда,” Bucky said, standing back up on his feet. But you weren’t too sure about this. Along with your training, your handlers had pushed on you the notion that the Avengers, and anyone associated with them, were out to harm you, always, and that’s why you needed to be able to defend yourself.

“Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня,” you asked, clear hesitation towards the soldier who was about to grant you freedom from this hellhole.

Bucky looked at you with sympathy drawn over his features. Shaking his head, he gently grabbed your hands, a shiver traveling up your spine at the coolness from the vibranium arm. “Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда.”

-TIME SKIP-

It had been a few months since the Avengers had rescued you from HYDRA and you were beyond grateful that Bucky had stumbled upon you that day. But the fear that HYDRA had instilled in you about being near the Avengers was still running rampant in your system. Whenever someone knocked on your door, or came up behind you, your fight or flight instincts kicked in like that of an animal in the wild. You thought it’d be better by now, considering you have been going to therapy since coming to the compound. But today, all your frustrations came to a head.

You probably should’ve been in bed considering it was 4 in the morning but you needed to burn off some steam. What you failed to realize was that a certain super soldier was sitting in one of the boxes above the training center, watching your every move. But, him being a super soldier meant that he could pick up on more than you realized. Bucky had noticed that blood dripping onto the floor, which came from your terribly wrapped hands.

He knew you were on edge, but not like you were when he first got you out. By the time that you realized Bucky was in your presence, it was a bit too late. You felt a hand on your shoulder; two seconds later you had the body attached to the arm on the floor, your other arm extending towards their throat, keeping them pinned to the floor.

Once the haze cleared, you could tell who it was that you had down on the ground. “Buck? Oh my god.” Quickly pushing yourself off of him, you started pacing the gym floor. “Fucking shit. I am so sorry Bucky. I-I didn’t mean to do it. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You kept rambling and pacing until Bucky stopped you, stepping in front of you to stop you from wearing a hole in the floor.

“I am fine, кукла. Are you ok? Your hands are bleeding.” Looking down, you saw the streaks of red coming out from under the tape on your hands. “Let’s go get you fixed up, ok?” Nodding, you followed Bucky out of the gym and towards the medical center. “So, what’s got you going at 4 in the morning anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried. I even tried that tea Wanda suggested. By the way, don’t drink it. It tastes like dirt.” Bucky chuckled as you sat on a gurney, grabbing supplies from the cabinets. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we wait for, you know, a doctor, or an actual medical professional to come in and do this,” you immediately questioned him.

“Do you seriously doubt my suturing skills? I did serve in World War II, so I’m pretty confident that I know my way around a needle and thread,” he said, carefully unraveling the useless tape from around your knuckles, taking a look at the damage. “Yeah, this’ll probably take a little bit, but don’t you worry, Dr. Barnes is always here to help.” Bucky smiled at you, calming your nerves the tiniest bit.

After prepping and numbing you properly, Bucky began stitching your open wounds shut. “So, do you wanna talk about why you couldn’t fall asleep? Talking might help, at least it usually does for me,” Bucky asked, not taking his eyes off his work in progress.

“I, uh, I keep having nightmares. They went away for a bit, when I could actually sleep for the night, but for some reason, they’ve come back,” you admitted quietly, almost like it was a dirty little secret.

“Well, you’ve only been here a few months so I wouldn’t expect your nightmares to just instantly go away. It took me a few years to actually get a good night's sleep with them waking me or anybody else up. So I know exactly how you feel,” he said, finishing up before wrapping your hands in sterile dressings. “And you are all set. Now, no excessive force, which includes going to the gym at 4 in the morning and working out like you are about to fight the Hulk.” You laughed lightly, shoulders loosening up.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you just stitched up my hands cause I got too into my own brain after I almost choked you when you could’ve just dropped me here and gone back to bed.” Tears filled your eyes once more, a thickening feeling surrounding your concerns.

Bucky sighed, gingerly sitting next to you on the gurney. “When I found you at the base, I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy ride for you. Or for anyone here really. Adding another member to the team can sometimes jostle things around. And I knew for a fact that you would feel like an outcast amongst some of the biggest heroes the world has ever seen...so far,” he said as you laid your head against his arm, wiping away the tears that had made their way down your face. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, if we became friends or even just acquaintances, that you wouldn’t feel so alone here. Cause I know exactly how that feels. And ever since coming here, I can see what I looked like when I was found; lost, felt like I didn’t deserve anything good or even deserving of love. But even though you hide it with a sort of tough exterior and you’re used to being trapped away, I can tell you something about yourself that you probably don’t even know,” Bucky said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Oh yeah? What would that be,��� you asked, quite curious as to what he may have found out.

“You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger. Cause that’s exactly how I feel right now.” At some point, of which you weren’t sure, Bucky had hooked his fingers under your chin, turning your face up to meet his. Your eyes finally met his, capturing the look of a pure and innocent love in his icy stare. He slowly leaned down, but stopping right before your lips collided. “Is this ok?” Quickly nodding, Bucky pressed his lips to your own, cupping your face as your injured hands made their way to his sides.

Pulling back, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. “Never thought that this is how we would have our first kiss, doll,” he said, making you laugh which in turn caused him to chuckle. “But, I’m not at all opposed to it.”

“I’m glad. Now let’s get out of here. I’m tired.”

-----------------------------

1. У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью - Are you ok? I didn’t hit you with the door, did I?

2. Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя? - My name is Bucky. What’s yours?

3. Это хорошо. Как давно ты здесь? - That’s ok. How long have you been here?

4. двадцать три года - 23 years.

5. Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда. - Ok. Steve gave me the go ahead so we can get out of here.

6. Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня? - You aren’t going to hurt me right? O-or kill me?

7. Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда. - Of course not. I’m going to get you out of here.

8. Кукла - Doll

If you see this on another blog, @multifandomwhre , that is my first blog where I submitted it to @sweeterthanthis “Quote Me” challenge. 

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter Nineteen: Pre lit 

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

Tw: swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of neglect

Word count: 1.2 K 

________________________________________________________________

Time Skip to Friday, Lunch time before the dance, Y/n POV 

“Don’t forget your writing assignment is due Monday and it will be presented to the class.” Mr Yagami said as the class left for lunch. I turned to Tendou as we walked out together.

“So did you finally tell them you and I are going together tonight babe?” He asked me.

“I will right now Satori. They both have been a little more on edge since shit with Mei last weekend honestly. I didn’t want to salt Tsuki’s wound. Shirabu also already knows anyway and he supports it.” 

“Oh there is Tsukishima.” He said as he dipped down a side hall heading outside. “See you at 9 babe.” 

At my locker my friends were already waiting for me to head to lunch. We headed to the court yard and sat at our usual table as I looked at Shirabu. 

“I think it’s time to include you guys in the loop before tonight happens.” I said. 

“What loop?” Tsukishima said with a hint of annoyance. 

“Tendou is taking me to the dance because I like him and you cannot change my mind. So either you support me or I can just leave the table and go hang out with him.” I said as fast as I could. Tsukishima let out a loud sigh. 

“Oh I am happy for you  y/n! I don’t mean to rush off but I have to go grab something from my teacher. I am happy for you!” Yamaguchi said as he stood up. 

“I can tell you are genuine Yams, don’t worry. I will see you later in class!” I looked over to Tsukishima. 

“I guess it’s fine. I don’t want to lose our friendship for some shitty guy. If he hurts you I will say I told you so.” 

“I will take it.” I said happy as my friends had accepted Tendou as my date.

Mei POV

I texted my sisters group and no one responded. I even tried to message my best friend who ignored me too. I checked my messages with Oikawa to see if he had responded yet. Just a short while ago I overheard Oikawa say I was nothing but an expensive fuck. I could feel my heart shatter when I heard him say that. I ran and immediately texted him I was unable to go to the dance tonight cause my father said I am too young. I now sat under a tree as I let my tears free fall from my eyes.  

“Mei… is that you?” I turned my head to see Yamaguchi. 

“Hi…” I said just above a whisper. 

“What happened? Why are you here all alone crying outside?” 

“I just.. I am sorry Yamaguchi. Y/n was right, I suck.” He then sat down beside me as he placed a pile of papers beside him . 

“Hey… I know I said some very harsh things to you a few days ago and I definitely could have worded them better but that doesn’t mean you suck, okay?” 

“I do. Y/n finally opened up to me and I blew her off and called Oikawa behind her back.” I saw Yamaguchi shift uncomfortably beside me. “I knew it was wrong but I thought he really liked me, till a little while ago… I heard him tell Iwaizumi I was just an expensive fuck who was showing to be not worth it anymore.” 

“Mei… I am so sorry.” 

“Please Yams, don’t be. If only I listened to Y/n. She tried to warn me so many times and I just wanted to be popular. I just, really wanted to be someone’s someone. I don’t know how y/n does it. Dad didn't care about us after mom left and I took such a great advantage of her to the point I don’t think she will forgive me. I even used the money she was saving for mine and her dresses and now it was just a waste. I really messed up Yams.” I said as I buried my face in my hands. He placed his hand on my back. 

“Hey, y/n has the biggest soft spot for you, I have seen it first hand okay? She will forgive you. And about the dresses, Mei will you go to the dance with me?” I looked into Yamaguchi’s eyes. 

“Are you serious…?” I asked him. 

“Yes Mei. Come with me and we will talk to Shirabu, Tsukishima and y/n together before we go, Okay?” I nodded my head in agreement as he gave me a hug then helped me up.

 Time Skip after school-Y/n POV

“If I had to give Tsuki a title its teen angst cause LOOK AT HIMMMM!” I shouted as I laughed at him. 

“I mean, can he deny it? No.”Shirabu replied. Even Tsukishima was laughing at that moment. We were interpreted by Mei as she entered the room. She sat down and began to tell us about what had happened with Oikawa. 

“I told you he was a piece of shit Mei.” I interrupted. She made no attempt to dig back at me as she carried on her speech. She told us what her and Yamaguchi had spoken about at lunch according to them. 

“You are my younger sister and no matter what I love you, I don’t trust you though so that's something you will have to earn back.” She jumped from her seat as she engulfed me into a hug saying how much she loved me with her whole heart over and over again. 

“I love you too but I got to get ready. Satori will be here in 30 minutes with the limo. You guys sure you don’t want to carpool with us?” 

“All the monsters in a small space… I will take a hard pass y/n.” Yamaguchi said. 

“I will get ready with you if that’s okay though?” Mei said as I reached my hand out for her to take. 

After Mei and I got ready Tendou had just messaged he would be here soon. My father took many pictures of the five of us as we headed out the door. I jumped in Tsukiishima’s car till we got around the corner and I hopped out seeing Tendou leaned up against the limo. 

“Hey babe.” He said as he pulled me into a kiss. We got inside the limo as Terushima was the first to speak to me. 

“Milkshake girl! What’s up?” He was noticeably already intoxicated at this time. “You wanna beer? We are getting pre lit before this fancy shit fest!” 

“I am okay, maybe after the dance.” I said. 

The ride was quite enjoyable as I feel I saw a new side of the rowdy bunch I once hated. We arrived at the school in no time as Tendou helped me out of the limo. 

“Looks pretty fancy already.” Hanamaki said as he walked up to the door with the rest as they followed close behind him. 

“You ready for the dance, Satori?” I asked him. 

“As ready as I will ever be y/n.” He said taking my arm in his as we walked up the few steps to get to the door. 

_______________________________________________________________

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[more-pokeimagines]

Stone Cold Body [08] - Chapter 7

A/N: Once again, I'm so sorry that it took me forever to finish this chapter. I hope you are still interested in the series, and I promise that the next updates won't take as long.

Warnings: none

Taglist: @piershoesz @alovestruck-fool @shaak-ti-s @spair-m [If you want to be added to/removed from the taglist let me know.]

Present

A few days had passed since your latest argument with the prince and you still had no idea why he had reacted so hostile when you had asked him about your dream and the things you had seen. You had tried to talk to him a few more times, mostly because you wanted to apologize for snapping at him but since that morning, Bede avoided you like the plague and purposely looked away whenever you tried to make eye contact with him. And although he acted like nothing had happened when Gloria and Hop were around, you had noticed the sadness in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide when he thought that nobody was paying attention to him.

You were pretty sure that it had nothing to do with the things you had said to him but still, you could feel your guilty conscience gnawing at you every time you thought about it. Given the fact that you couldn’t stand him, you really hadn’t expected to feel bad about your argument with the prince, at least not for such a long time. Maybe it was because you couldn’t stand conflicts in general, or maybe you were slowly starting to have a thing for him. At least, that surely would’ve been Gloria’s guess if you had bothered to tell her about your twisted feelings since she still firmly believed that you and Bede had to be soulmates, according to the legend that had surrounded the statue. Only a few days ago, she had suggested that you should spend more time with him and try to get to know him better. “After all, you could be meant for each other,” she had said, earning an annoyed glance from you. “You know exactly that’s not true. It’s just a stupid fairytale, nothing more.”

With a quiet sigh, you shook your head, casting aside the memories and trying to focus on the book in front of you. You were currently sitting in Wyndon’s library, an old and dignified building that was equipped with countless books, journals and even actual historical documents from various eras, such as diaries, letters and manifestos. In the beginning, you had been confident that it wouldn’t take too long to find something regarding the prince and his obscure fate but it had only taken about an hour until you started to feel overwhelmed by the amount of information the library offered.

On your desk, there was a pile of books about the history of Galar and a collection of articles about the prohibition of magic and the consequential witch-hunt, referred to as the Great Hunt, which hadn’t been very useful since they never mentioned the crown prince at all and mostly focused on King Lewin’s orders and the methods the Royal Court of Inquisition had used to track down the sorcerers and their families. Nobody had included Bede and his sister into their research, probably because they hadn’t been involved in any of this and while you hadn’t expected to find something about the curse in these essays, you couldn’t help but feel a bit discouraged.

Everything would be a whole lot easier if Bede didn’t refuse to talk to you. He obviously knew very well who the woman you had seen in your dream was but for some reason, he tried hard to keep everything about his past a secret.

Absent-mindedly chewing on the top of your pencil, you stared out of the window as you tried to gather every bit of information you currently had about the prince. The result was quite disillusioning – you knew almost nothing about him, his name, status and family relationships aside. In the exhibition, you had learned that he had been close to his sister and that his parents, particularly his father, had put enormous pressure on him but other than that, you were clueless when it came to him. You had no idea who he truly was, what he thought about the king’s hatred towards the sorcerers or why someone had hated him so much that they ended up cursing him.

Well. If he had always been this arrogant and presumptuous young man he was now, you really couldn’t hold the malediction against the unknown person who had cast it all these years ago… although a part of you had to admit that it seemed a bit harsh to trap someone in stone for so long, just for being an arrogant idiot.

No, you were absolutely sure that there had to be more to it. You just needed more information to figure out what it was.

You grabbed another history book, quickly scanning the table of contents before putting it aside because it covered the aftermath of the Great Hunt and therefore the wrong era. Same with the next two books, although the latter at least recommended some other works about the Great Hunt and the royal family’s involvement. After writing down the title, you turned your attention back to the pile of books in front of you. Surely it would be more effective to work through them first before looking for new stuff to read.

Over the next hour, you found an essay about the upbringing of Bede and Carlina which only contained information you had already gotten from the exhibition, a copy of the royal family’s genealogy that only traced back as far as Bede’s paternal grandparents and another essay that described the events of the Great Hunt without going into detail about the origin of the King’s hatred towards sorcerers and their magic. The author actually had pointed out that it was almost impossible to find reliable sources regarding King Lewin’s personal motives and therefore historians could only speculate about it, but most people assumed that he probably experienced something terrible that led to his disdain, especially since the previous king, Lewin’s father, never had an issue with the use of magic.

You had started chewing on your lower lip, like you often did when you were musing about something, while you stared at the essay and the notes you had taken. Something about the whole issue felt off, although you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was strange that no one knew exactly why the king had started to persecute the sorcerers since there was a lot of source material for considerably less important stuff, for example the average earnings of Carlina’s chambermaid or how often Queen Alviva would see the court physician because she allegedly suffered from migraines.

If you didn’t know better, you would have assumed that someone, most likely the king himself, had made sure that every bit of information which could paint him and his actions in a bad light was kept under lock and key, even after his death.

You grimaced at the book in front of you. After everything you had learned about him and the way he treated others, it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was actually true. And it probably was true, given the fact that there was not one essay that told the story from the sorcerers’ side.

It hadn’t even occurred to you that the few articles you had found about the Great Hunt had purely focused on King Lewin and the orders and actions he had taken to hunt down the sorcerers. But now it was clear as daylight that there was next to no information about his enemies and how they had reacted to the threat.

To say that it made everything even more suspicious, would be an understatement. Clearly, the king had tried to hide something but you had no idea what. And in the end, it probably didn’t even matter because it wasn’t linked to Bede and the curse, so it wouldn’t get you anywhere if you –

You started up from your musing before you could finish the thought. Your gaze flickered from your notes to the book, then back to the big question mark you had drawn behind Bede’s name, and you could feel a sudden agitation buzzing through your body.

Maybe it was indeed linked to Bede and everything he had experienced. It seemed quite a stretch and you doubted that his son’s fate was the only reason for the king to cover up the sorcerers’ actions but perhaps they had been the ones who cursed him. It made sense, also in the context of your dream, assuming that the unknown woman had been a sorceress. She had undoubtedly threatened Bede, and –

You abruptly reached for your pencil and began to scribble your thoughts down. Most of your notes probably weren’t going to make sense in the future but you needed to write your thought process down to make sure that you weren’t forgetting any details which could be important later on.

Okay, so, assuming that the woman in your dream had been the one who cursed Bede, it was likely that she had done so to take revenge on his family, or better, his father, the king. Maybe she had lost someone dear during the Great Hunt and wanted to teach Lewin a lesson about the grief she felt. Or perhaps, she simply had tried to put an end to the violence against her people and had used Bede as some kind of leverage to get her will.

You paused to think for a moment. Weren’t you reading too much into a simple dream? There was no evidence that the things you had seen were actually real; you didn’t know if you really had caught a glimpse of the past or if your mind was just trying to play tricks on you after reading a few things about Bede and his family at the exhibition. It was possible that you were well on the way to obsess about the whole situation.

No. Deep down, you knew that everything you had seen in your dream was real, although you couldn’t really say why. You simply knew it.

Or maybe you were slowly starting to go crazy.

*

He wasn’t sure why he had decided to go back to the park where it all had started. It was strange to see the place where he had been trapped in stone for nearly three centuries; the place where hundreds of people had tried to lift the spell from him, according to Gloria who had told him a few stories surrounding the statue. Surrounding him.

It wasn’t just strange. It felt preposterous to know that he had been right here for all this time while his family continued to live their lives, while the world around him changed over and over again while he remained frozen in time. Maybe it was so hard to understand because he simply couldn’t remember anything after Brigid had cursed him. Contrary to popular beliefs, Bede hadn’t been conscious; he hadn’t noticed anything that was going on around him. After Brigid had cast the spell, a dark, deep silence had embraced him – and then, there had been nothing.

Until he had stumbled right into your arms that day.

Bede was convinced that Brigid never intended her curse to have a loophole; she was way too determined to wreak revenge on his family to make a mistake like that, and yet, here he was, as fresh as a daisy and completely unharmed. Not that he was mad about it, no, he was grateful to be alive and everything but… there was something about this whole story that didn’t quite match up. And he would be lying if he said that it didn’t worry him.

With a quiet sigh, he rested his elbows on his knees, propping up his head on his hands as he continued to watch the few tourists that were wandering around the park. Nobody took notice of him but that was completely alright with him. Back in the day, he had never been able to roam freely outside the walls of the palace. He had always been accompanied by his personal guards which made it easy for everyone to recognize who he was, and while he understood that it was necessary to bring the guards, he had sometimes wished to have more freedom. Being raised as the crown prince of Galar had always been a heavy burden, especially since he could never satisfy his father’s expectations, no matter how hard he tried.

From this point of view, his life was better now. He was free to make his own decisions, he didn’t have to justify himself to his father anymore and could go wherever he wanted to go. He was no longer a prince; he was just a normal young man. He was just Bede.

On the other hand, just the mere thought seemed frightening. For all of his life, Bede had always known what others expected of him and where his place was. Making decisions had never been an option before. Heck, back then, he hadn’t even been allowed to choose the color of the fabrics the tailors used for his clothes, and now he had to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life? Impossible.

And, all advantages of a fresh start aside, none of this changed the fact that he was alone. There was no one in this world who cared about him, and most people didn’t even know who he truly was, although they had been so obsessed with the statue over the years. And everyone he had known before was dead.

Bede hadn’t expected the thought would still hurt so much. It wasn’t the first time that it occurred to him that his parents and his beloved sister had died long ago but until now, he had never allowed himself to give in to the sadness that threatened to overwhelm him every time. But now he didn’t bother to fight back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Given the fact that you and the others weren’t here to judge him, there really was no need to hide his emotions, and before he even realized that he was crying, the tears were already streaming down his cheeks.

He turned away from the spot the statue had stood, pressing his lips together to stifle the sobs that wanted to escape his throat and clenched his fists while he tried to regain his composure. But the tears kept on flowing.

Everyone that had ever meant someone to him was dead. Carlina was dead. He would never see her again, hear her voice or laugh about the stupid jokes she had always made to cheer him up on a bad day. He couldn’t even remember the last thing he had said to her or the last time he had told her how much he loved her. Shouldn’t he be able to remember these things?

Why couldn’t he remember?

The answer was simple. Bede hadn’t known that it would be the last time and therefore, he hadn’t cherished his final moments with his sister enough. And now, all that remained was an excruciating grief that made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

How was he supposed to live without his sister? After all, she had always been the person he had trusted the most, the one he could rely on without a doubt, and knowing that she wasn’t here with him – that she would never be here with him – hurt like nothing else. No one would ever be able to replace her, not even – particularly not – you; the one who allegedly was his soulmate if he would be willing to believe in the tales Gloria had told him. It would be a mockery if it was actually true (not that he thought that it was), given the fact that he could barely look at you without thinking back to the worst moments of his life… the moments that had changed his whole world forever.

In some way, it almost seemed to be an irony of fate that you of all people had lifted the spell from him. You who looked so much like the woman who had cursed him in the first place.

He had noticed the resemblance right away. Of course, you didn’t look exactly like Brigid but there was something about your features and the color of your eyes that reminded him of her. Even the way you looked at him resembled her, your eyes always filled with so much disdain and anger, just like hers.

At first, Bede had thought that he was imagining things, that his subconsciousness tried to come to terms with the things that had happened by projecting it into this new reality but now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. There had to be a reason behind it. After all, you had managed to break a curse that never should have been broken in the first place, incredible as it was.

He wiped the tears from his face and took a deep breath, carefully locking up his emotions again.

Maybe it was time to stop running away from his past. If he wanted to figure out what was going on, if he really wanted to understand why the spell had been lifted, there was only one person who could help him, as much as he hated to admit it. And that person was you.

Masterlist / Next part

[multifandomwhre]

Loves Harsh Reality

Summary: Life is a bitch. 

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader (all platonic)

Warnings: swearing, mention of past/current abuse

Prompt: “You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger.” 

Word Count: 1780

Do not copy, translate, or post any of my stories anywhere you write stories, whether that’s here, Wattpad, or Ao3. 

-----------------------------

Life never treated you well. Not even when you were just an innocent child, trying to navigate your way in this terrible world. You were forced into a cold and unloving organization that was run by people who don’t really give a shit that you were only 2 when they stole you. They never treated you like a human, more like a laboratory experiment, which kind of went haywire. When you were brought in, the sleaze running this entire operation stripped you of everything you had so far, which was only a name you had just barely begun to learn, and they assigned you a number, much like a court case; experiment 973. And that’s what you went by for the next 23 years of your life.

The day you were rescued from that deranged and psychotic place was...hectic to say the least. It began like any other day while you were their little pet; get woken up at the ass crack of you don’t know when, test out your powers until you physically passed out and then get ungracefully woken again only to be forced to use your powers. This continues for hours on end before these assholes make you go fight actual people in hopes that you aren’t lacking in physical strength. You fight until bodies start piling up and when your sadistic handlers are satisfied with your progress, as if you haven’t they haven’t been training you to take down monsters bigger than Goliath himself. But something wasn’t right and you could feel it in the enclosed space of your cell. 

While you normally had a rough awakening by someone poking, prodding, and eventually yanking you out of bed, nobody was there. In fact, there wasn’t even a peep from the cells neighboring yours. That was until you heard multiple gunshots and multiple bodies slumping against the floor. See, the thing about HYDRA is that they’ve trained you for this exact moment but every single ounce of training they’ve ingrained in your body and mind left the building completely as you hunkered down against the wall furthest from the thick, metal door barricading you from the outside world. 

Suddenly, the door you were just measly standing behind came crashing down, dust from the unwashed floor rising. After the dust settled, you looked up to see the poster boy of HYDRA himself, the Winter Soldier. “Steve, I’ve got a live one here. Female, looks to be in her mid-20s,” he whispered into his ear piece. He slowly moved closer, putting his weapon away as he noticed your frail body shaking from fear. “У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью?*” Shaking your head, the soldier stopped in front of you, kneeling next to you. “Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя?” Shrugging your shoulders, you made an attempt to look over at him. “That’s ok. How long have you been here?”

“двадцать три года*,” you said, a bit of hesitation in your voice, finding it hard to speak after decades of being punished if you spoke out of turn. As you finished speaking, you heard another voice, one which you assumed belonged to this Steve person. 

“Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда,” Bucky said, standing back up on his feet. But you weren’t too sure about this. Along with your training, your handlers had pushed on you the notion that the Avengers, and anyone associated with them, were out to harm you, always, and that’s why you needed to be able to defend yourself. 

“Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня,” you asked, clear hesitation towards the soldier who was about to grant you freedom from this hellhole. 

Bucky looked at you with sympathy drawn over his features. Shaking his head, he gently grabbed your hands, a shiver traveling up your spine at the coolness from the vibranium arm. “Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда.”

-TIME SKIP-

It had been a few months since the Avengers had rescued you from HYDRA and you were beyond grateful that Bucky had stumbled upon you that day. But the fear that HYDRA had instilled in you about being near the Avengers was still running rampant in your system. Whenever someone knocked on your door, or came up behind you, your fight or flight instincts kicked in like that of an animal in the wild. You thought it’d be better by now, considering you have been going to therapy since coming to the compound. But today, all your frustrations came to a head.

You probably should’ve been in bed considering it was 4 in the morning but you needed to burn off some steam. What you failed to realize was that a certain super soldier was sitting in one of the boxes above the training center, watching your every move. But, him being a super soldier meant that he could pick up on more than you realized. Bucky had noticed that blood dripping onto the floor, which came from your terribly wrapped hands. 

He knew you were on edge, but not like you were when he first got you out. By the time that you realized Bucky was in your presence, it was a bit too late. You felt a hand on your shoulder; two seconds later you had the body attached to the arm on the floor, your other arm extending towards their throat, keeping them pinned to the floor. 

Once the haze cleared, you could tell who it was that you had down on the ground. “Buck? Oh my god.” Quickly pushing yourself off of him, you started pacing the gym floor. “Fucking shit. I am so sorry Bucky. I-I didn’t mean to do it. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You kept rambling and pacing until Bucky stopped you, stepping in front of you to stop you from wearing a hole in the floor. 

“I am fine, кукла. Are you ok? Your hands are bleeding.” Looking down, you saw the streaks of red coming out from under the tape on your hands. “Let’s go get you fixed up, ok?” Nodding, you followed Bucky out of the gym and towards the medical center. “So, what’s got you going at 4 in the morning anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried. I even tried that tea Wanda suggested. By the way, don’t drink it. It tastes like dirt.” Bucky chuckled as you sat on a gurney, grabbing supplies from the cabinets. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we wait for, you know, a doctor, or an actual medical professional to come in and do this,” you immediately questioned him.

“Do you seriously doubt my suturing skills? I did serve in World War II, so I’m pretty confident that I know my way around a needle and thread,” he said, carefully unraveling the useless tape from around your knuckles, taking a look at the damage. “Yeah, this’ll probably take a little bit, but don’t you worry, Dr. Barnes is always here to help.” Bucky smiled at you, calming your nerves the tiniest bit. 

After prepping and numbing you properly, Bucky began stitching your open wounds shut. “So, do you wanna talk about why you couldn’t fall asleep? Talking might help, at least it usually does for me,” Bucky asked, not taking his eyes off his work in progress.

“I, uh, I keep having nightmares. They went away for a bit, when I could actually sleep for the night, but for some reason, they’ve come back,” you admitted quietly, almost like it was a dirty little secret. 

“Well, you’ve only been here a few months so I wouldn’t expect your nightmares to just instantly go away. It took me a few years to actually get a good night's sleep with them waking me or anybody else up. So I know exactly how you feel,” he said, finishing up before wrapping your hands in sterile dressings. “And you are all set. Now, no excessive force, which includes going to the gym at 4 in the morning and working out like you are about to fight the Hulk.” You laughed lightly, shoulders loosening up.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you just stitched up my hands cause I got too into my own brain after I almost choked you when you could’ve just dropped me here and gone back to bed.” Tears filled your eyes once more, a thickening feeling surrounding your concerns. 

Bucky sighed, gingerly sitting next to you on the gurney. “When I found you at the base, I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy ride for you. Or for anyone here really. Adding another member to the team can sometimes jostle things around. And I knew for a fact that you would feel like an outcast amongst some of the biggest heroes the world has ever seen...so far,” he said as you laid your head against his arm, wiping away the tears that had made their way down your face. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, if we became friends or even just acquaintances, that you wouldn’t feel so alone here. Cause I know exactly how that feels. And ever since coming here, I can see what I looked like when I was found; lost, felt like I didn’t deserve anything good or even deserving of love. But even though you hide it with a sort of tough exterior and you’re used to being trapped away, I can tell you something about yourself that you probably don’t even know,” Bucky said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Oh yeah? What would that be,” you asked, quite curious as to what he may have found out.

“You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger. Cause that’s exactly how I feel right now.” At some point, of which you weren’t sure, Bucky had hooked his fingers under your chin, turning your face up to meet his. Your eyes finally met his, capturing the look of a pure and innocent love in his icy stare. He slowly leaned down, but stopping right before your lips collided. “Is this ok?” Quickly nodding, Bucky pressed his lips to your own, cupping your face as your injured hands made their way to his sides. 

Pulling back, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. “Never thought that this is how we would have our first kiss, doll,” he said, making you laugh which in turn caused him to chuckle. “But, I’m not at all opposed to it.”

“I’m glad. Now let’s get out of here. I’m tired.” 

-----------------------------

1. У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью - Are you ok? I didn’t hit you with the door, did I?

2. Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя? - My name is Bucky. What’s yours?

3. Это хорошо. Как давно ты здесь? - That’s ok. How long have you been here?

4. двадцать три года - 23 years. 

5. Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда. - Ok. Steve gave me the go ahead so we can get out of here. 

6. Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня? - You aren’t going to hurt me right? O-or kill me?

7. Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда. - Of course not. I’m going to get you out of here.

8. Кукла - Doll

I will also be posting this on my other blog, @imaginesmcu. This is a very, very late submission to @sweeterthanthis ‘s “Quote Me” challenge. 

[stardustskz]

It Just Is

pairings: seungmin x reader

word count: 4.8k

warnings: mentions of anxiety, language, description loaded (i think?)

genre: fluff (?), angst

description: Han Jisung begged you to drive him to somewhere and you didn’t expect to see familiar faces that caused some of your ‘forbidden’ memories to resurface.

note: i don’t really know what this is but, it’ll be a waste to let it sit in my drafts forever. also, this may or may not have a second part

There are missing items in your life that you have longed to look for. The ocean blue cardigan that you used to wear frequently during seventh grade, which you don’t quite remember if you have misplaced it around the house or your mom already donated it somewhere else. That one decorative pen that you loved to use for your writings whether you take notes during class or cram your Petrarchan sonnet that is due the next day. The Minnie mouse keyring that your grade school best friend gave you as a present when their family visited Singapore that you valued a lot until one day it wasn’t hanging by the zipper of your backpack anymore. These things that you lost in a fraction of time without even knowing that they’ll be gone from your sight for the entirety of your life, they once became your comfort. The warmth of your cardigan whenever you’re cold from the harsh morning breeze on your way to your school. The grasp of that certain pen when you scribble your notes in a hurry before the teacher moves to the next slide of her presentation. The familiarity of seeing that pink dotted ribbon hanging on your backpack, indicating that it’s yours. They all have been a fabric of your being, a part of you. Well, that is until you lose them.

You scanned through the piles of paper on your desk, trying to find your sharpener to finally finish the title block of your plate. You mumbled a few series of curses as you glanced at the clock. It was already 9:51 in the evening and this plate that you’re currently doing is due at midnight. Screw your stupid alarm clock for not waking you up when you swore that you have set it at 1:00pm. You hurriedly sharpened your pencil a second after you found it underneath your history book as you heard an obnoxious knock from the door. You chose to ignore it and moments after, you hear it open following your brother’s annoying voice,

“Y/n!! Your plate looks wonderful!” 

“What do you want, Jisung?” you groaned in annoyance as you already know that certain tone of his.

“Help me get to Hyunjin’s tonight” Jisung answered which made you turn around from your drafting to face him.

“It’s the third party this week, don’t you have any other stuff to do?” you asked him with a hint of concern, but your tone failed you as it sounded like your usual nagging.

“Well, first of all, we’re of the same age, you don’t have to scold me,” you glared at him for his a-matter-of-fact answer.

“Second, I’m not an architecture student like you.” He then stuck his tongue out in an attempt to annoy you even more. 

“Well first of all, Han Jisung, that was so fucking mature of you,” you retorted mocking his dramatic voice and turning your head again to your desk before continuing,

“Second, I won’t help you–” 

“Yeah? Then I’ll tell mom that you haven’t been doing the dishes for two nights now.” And that made you turn your gaze again to your brother who grinned as he successfully caught your attention, again.

“Screw you, we had a deal.” You told him as you faced your plate again, Han fucking Jisung can wait.

“Wait until I finish my plate then I’ll drive you there.” You heard Jisung celebrate in joy as he lied flat on your bed, patiently waiting for you to finish.

You see, even though you are twins and you practically share the same birthday, you grew up owning the title of being born a minute earlier than Jisung. This resulted in your parents seeing you as the more responsible one than your twin. It added up to the fact that you and Jisung are polar opposites when it came to your personalities. Let’s just say that he’s the more outgoing one and you’re more of the type to lock yourself up in your room all day. 

“Is it a huge party?” you asked Jisung from the passenger seat of your mom’s beloved mini van that was now yours to drive around. 

“Not really, it’s just the inner circle this time” he said as you stopped for a red traffic light.

“I’ll just wait for you in the car then.” You answered him with a nod of understanding.

“No, that will be horrible y/n, why would you wait in the car? It’s cold.”

You looked at him meaningfully before turning your gaze at the road again as the traffic light already turned green. Jisung immediately got why you were stern on staying inside of the car instead of bonding with him and your circle of friends, well, some of them.

“What’s wrong with being with him in the same room? It’s not like you’ll be forced to talk to him.” He explained, his voice laced with concern and worry that you may be upset with him for having this conversation.

“I don’t know Jisung…” you mumbled as you turned to the right corner, finally entering the village where Hyunjin lives.

“You are good friends y/n” Jisung whispered, looking outside of the window as the car passed by the familiar set of houses that he remembers by heart.

“We were good friends, Jisung” you answered, already pulling up in front of Hwang's porch.

“Then what went wrong?”

What went wrong? That question rang in your head with the consistent wave of various emotions as you took notice of the person by the house’s entrance.

Ever since you were a kid, you’ve always had this poor memory skills. This is the reason why you often misplace your things that leads to losing them. However, there’s this one kid that helped you with that problem. 

It was during your fourth grade in middle school when you first met him. It was that one particular day that went totally wrong as you fought with your brother early in the morning  because he’s being an annoying little prick and woke you up yelling your name, which you hated a lot by the way, and your day got even more sour when your teacher passed the module of mathematical problems and you seem to have lost your pen, seeing to it that it wasn’t inside your mustard yellow pencil case. You know that you’re screwed specially when 15 minutes into answering the module, you still have no pen to write and solve with. Because first, it may sound miserable, but you have no friends and second, your pride stood still, refusing to talk to Jisung even when you clearly needed help.

The moment that your teacher left your classroom, a boy with a raven hair, chubby cheeks and a cute mole by his left chubbier cheek approached you,

“Hey, you can use my spare one.” He said. And who are you to refuse the kind offer? So, you accepted it and muttered a whisper of thank you before your teacher came back.

By the time that all of your classes were finished, you decided to return the pen to the said boy. You slowly approached him even before your brother had reached you, earning a confused look from Jisung.

“Uh, hey thank you for earlier and uh… here’s your pen.” Your nine-year-old introverted ass managed to say out loud.

“Oh y/n! You’re welcome!” to say that you were shocked was an understatement. How did he know your name when you don’t even talk to anyone in class besides your brother? And you also felt shy, and a bit guilty because you clearly don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry but, I don’t know your name.” you shyly said, head hanging low and fingers fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. But then you looked up when you heard soft giggles coming from the boy.

“It’s Seungmin! And no worries y/n,” nine-year-old Seungmin said.

“By the way, I’m coming by your place later to play video games with Jisung. You can join us if you’d like!”

And this was the start of it. You and Seungmin became inseparable. Maybe it’s because seungmin helped you by letting you borrow his pen and his kindness touched one of the strings inside your heart or maybe it was how cute his chubby cheeks are with the left one a bit larger than the right or maybe it was how he included you in every conversations when you were hanging out with them by your house’s living room just to play left4dead with your brother’s ps3. But you’ve grown to be the best of friends from then on. 

Every Saturday, you would alternately visit each other’s house studying your Sciences and Maths with the sides of playing video games and watching classic cartoons. Seungmin also helped with you misplacing things often. He suggested writing on a memo pad every single thing you wanted to remember later on, every day, but only those that are important. Seungmin is also quite observative with his surroundings. For he would always know that the pen you’re looking for is located between the locks of your hair which is tied in a bun and the scrunchie that you’re trying to find was inside your now amber pencil case that you love carrying around. You were so close that even both of your parents even tagged you as the ones who seem like twins than you and Jisung. 

Ever since you were a kid you’ve always had this poor memory skill and you still wonder until now the reason how and why you can’t forget everything about a certain Kim Seungmin when he seems to have forgotten every inch of your existence.

You heard a loud knock coming from the window of the passenger's seat which interrupted you from your short trip down to memory lane. You squint your eyes to recognize the person despite the dark and obsidian night clouding your vision. Recognizing it to be Hyunjin, you unlocked the car doors for him.

“Seungmin told me that he saw you here,” he started as he sat comfortably now by the passenger seat.

“and Jisung fell asleep in the middle of a movie” he continued. You sighed, expecting nothing much of your brother that shared the same trait as yours when it came to enduring long hours of sitting in front of a tv and just watching. 

“Can you help me bring him here?” You asked as you had an agreement with Jisung that you’ll both be home before sunrise. 

“Why don’t you stay the night y/n? I mean, not here. You can join us inside.” Hyunjin asked even though he already knew the answer.

“It’s my responsibility to bring him home, Hyunjin,” you said, immediately dismissing his suggestion.

“Besides, if mom and dad come home and we’re out of sight, then we’ll be dead as meat” Hyunjin scoffed at your reply making you question him in silence.

“Jisung already told me that your parents won’t be back for the next two days.” Oh. Well, shit.

“Come on, y/n, let’s get you inside. It’s cold out here.” All your hopes of going home with Jisung tonight was shattered as Hyunjin was already pulling you outside of your car, putting the sketchbook on your lap inside of your bag, which was lying in the backseat of your car, and dragging you towards their house.

“Y/n’s here!!” Hyunjin clearly made sure that everyone knew your presence inside the house. Your eyes immediately tried to find a sleeping figure of your brother by the cushion but he’s not there.

“Oh? y/n! I made your favorite snacks” and there he was, standing by the kitchen counter with a bowl of strawberries and melted chocolate in his hands. You glared at Hyunjin at this and the latter only apologetically looked at you and mouthed a ‘sorry’. Stuck in the situation, you only sighed as you took a seat in one of the couches as you heard how Hyunjin broke down to Jisung the details of how he managed to force your ass here. 

“Y/n! my little one!” a voice called out coming from the kitchen which you certainly recognize that belongs to Chan. He sat down beside you and immediately attacked you with one of his big and comfortable hugs. 

“I really missed you” he whispered in your ear before pulling away.

Felix announced that the movie is about to start which made everyone get back to their places. Jisung handed you your strawberries before he sat down with felix by the couch opposite to yours. You scanned your eyes to the people around you as you took notice of everyone in here. Chan who was now sitting by the carpet in front of the couch you were on. Changbin and Jeongin who were cuddled like babies by the longest couch, Felix, Hyunjin and Jisung who were now arguing in whispers of who will be able to cuddle Hyunjin’s Ryan plush. Minho, who just came back from the restroom and sat in front of Changbin and Jeongin. And—

Your thoughts were cut when a blanket was softly draped by your shoulders. You glanced behind you only to see the person you’re trying to avoid who was also looking at you,

“It’s… cold.” He said, deciding to turn away before you even return a ‘thank you’. You took the blanket in your hands and realized that it’s his own personal blanket. The one that he carried around whenever he would sleepover at your place before.

The movie ended and it was no surprise that both you and Jisung had already fallen asleep. Well, more than half of you are already in a deep slumber. The only ones awake are Chan, Minho and Seungmin.

"Are we gonna let them sleep like that or….?" Minho asked as Chan already started cleaning up the place from empty snacks and cups.

"I think the boys can manage to sleep in here, just bring more pillows and blankets," Chan answered, his figure disappearing towards the kitchen.

"Oh! and bring y/n upstairs to Hyunjin's room!" Chan declared.

Seungmin only watched as Chan and Minho did their thing, elbow propped to the armchair of the single seated sofa he's in and eyes boring directly to you, seeping. Just as when Minho was about to carry you to Hyunjin's room as Chan instructed, Seungmin sat up straight from his slouching position.

"I'll take her," he said,

"... uh, upstairs." Minho only looked at him before heaving a sigh and letting Seungmin do it.

Seungmin then approached you, taking notice of how his blanket draped over your sleeping figure. He sighed heavily before placing his arms beneath your neck and knees, carrying you in the comfort of his arms. You shifted in your sleep and snuggled closer to Seungmin's neck unconsciously due to his warmth being in close proximity to your naturally cold body.

“Be careful” Minho instructed as Seungmin started to head for the stairs. 

Seungmin successfully laid you down the bed and carefully tucked you in beneath the sheets, attempting to take his blanket from you. But you tugged on it and cuddled with it more in your unconscious state. Seungmin chuckled at how adorable you looked and decided to just let you have it. It also reminded him of that one precious memory with you.

"Seungmin, I'm really, really sorry. I thought that I placed it in here already." you said as you checked Seungmin’s duffle bag once more. You were so sure that you’ve included his blanket there, which he lent you the previous day. Your eyes started to water at the thought of misplacing Seungmin’s favorite blanket at the cabin, because you always lose things.

“Have you checked your bag?” Seungmin said as he opened your backpack that lies beside his. He scrambled through the pile of clothes inside and a minute later, he felt the familiar smoothness of the cotton of his blanket. He sighed in relief before bringing it out, showing it to you.

“Y/n, it’s in here” he chuckled as he held it in your vision. You let out a shaky breath before tears came running down from your eyes. All of the frustrations from earlier and the anxiety of losing something important to your best friend came crashing to you as your adrenaline finally settled down, resulting in letting it all out. Seungmin, with years of knowing that you have a shitty tolerance with how your lacrimal glands work, led you to the surface of the bed. Encircling his warm hands to your much colder ones as he rubs soothing circles at the back of it with his thumb. Just like what he always did whenever you needed someone’s comfort. One that you can’t just vocally ask someone of and one that only a certain Kim Seungmin can do. 

It was one of Seungmin’s favorite memories of you. It wasn’t because you cried, god no, Seungmin hates seeing you cry. It was the level of intimacy that your friendship with him has. You weren’t in your best shape, but he saw how you cared for him and not just him but also the things that he owns and the sentiments that they hold. How you value your relationship with him that even a stupid blanket of made you bawl your eyes out. It was how special and dear he is to you, not the expensive, crystal, gems that you both always laugh at whenever you go online shopping, but it’s special like how you always wore this long, beige, soft-cottoned cardigan of yours, the one where you don’t want to lose it so you’ll just use it in every kind of opportunity there is, to keep it in your sight. And believe it or not, Seungmin regrets every decision he made when everything that he had with you came to an end. Because it took him a year in college, and an ample amount of avoiding you, to realize that you were more than just a best friend.

You suddenly woke up from your sleep, feeling quenched for water. Then you remembered that you haven't had any drop of water after the sweets that you consumed earlier. You made your way towards the kitchen from Hyunjin's room, knowing the directions well, based on your last memories from this house. Reaching the kitchen counter, you spotted a familiar figure sitting by the table. But you chose to ignore him as you made your way to the fridge after grabbing a glass of water by one of the cabinets.

"Hey… y/n," you choked on your glass of water as you heard him suddenly speak. You wiped your lips before turning around to face him.

"Can we perhaps, uh… talk?" You took a sharp breath in as you totally did not expect him to initiate a conversation with you. 

Seungmin was beyond nervous. He can already hear his heart pounding in his chest as you slowly approached the table, taking your time to somehow process the questions in your head. You took the seat in front of him, the grazing of the chair's feet against the marble floor being the only sound that was heard in the dread of the night. You softly sighed before turning your gaze towards the boy's hazelnut orbs, which was a wrong decision as it reflected against the moonlight from the window behind you, effortlessly making you lost with how his eyes showcased faint sadness and longingness. 

It was during your last December as a senior high school, you guess it was when everything went wrong.

You were watching Seungmin's baseball game, excitedly screaming his name when your phone rang obnoxiously from your pocket. At first you ignored it, thinking it was just Felix trying to convince you to accompany him at the bake sale, even though he's fully aware that you're with Seungmin. But then your phone did not stop ringing and by the third time, you answered. It was Jisung's number, but the voice doesn't belong to him. It was a call from the hospital, telling you that you must come immediately for your brother was caught in an accident. They told you to don't panic but here you are, quickly getting off from the bleachers while texting Seungmin about your sudden disappearance.

You reached the hospital with your anxiety rising in every step that you take. The nurse instructed you to wait outside as your brother was undergoing an operation. You were frightened, of course. Your parents at that time were both out of town and you can't call your friends knowing that they're still in the middle of their classes, but you settled on sending them a message. Hours went by as you painstakingly waited for the doctor to come out of the operating room. Chan arrived first out of your friend group and that's when you broke down. Weeping and bawling your eyes out as he engulfed you with his warm arms. Your friends slowly piled up in the white hallways of the hospital, but your best friend was still nowhere in sight. The doctor finally came out and told you about your brother's condition. Apparently, Jisung was caught in a car accident, the driver of the car was over speeding, but his breaks don’t work. Jisung will now be transferred in a separate room and you just have to wait for him to wake up. 

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin pointed out as you all headed for the room Jisung was transferred to.

“His game wasn’t done yet when I received the call.” you said, a bit tired from crying due to the events of that day.

“But it’s been hours already. I’m sure his game wouldn’t last that long” Felix stated, clearly concerned because they all know how you and Seungmin treat each other and it was evident, by the way you search for the entrance of the hallway every now and then, that you’re looking for your best friend. 

“He’ll come by.” you said, completely ignoring everyone else as you sat on a chair near Jisung’s bed and it wasn’t that long when you had fallen asleep, clutching your brother’s hand in yours.

Seungmin came by the next day, explaining that he had to stay after the game for some stuffs that their coach instructed him and you noticed that something is wrong. It bothers you how he can’t look directly in your eyes as he explained. Because Seungmin wasn’t like that. He would always look at you whenever he tells you something important but that day, he chose to avoid your gaze. And one of the things that you regretted doing was not asking him about it because after that, Seungmin became distant.

The first two months after the incident, it was still tolerable,  after school hangouts slowly lessened, with Seungmin spending his extra time for baseball practices and you totally understand it, you still have lunch times together anyways. But then it didn’t last long, when you all came back to school, having to spend your last semester as senior high school students, Seungmin suddenly doesn’t sit with you during lunch anymore. He started to hang out with the jocks, his teammates. It doesn’t also help that he’s cancelled every road trip that you both scheduled way before the previous semester ended. Your weekly game nights with him became monthly ones, until he skipped one month, or maybe two... or three, and it became countless that you never cared anymore. Everything that you’ve been doing with Seungmin, you became used to doing them all alone now. And you can only bask in silence as you continue to question yourself, What happened?

You used to hate losing things that you value dearly, but you never knew that losing someone would hurt much more than the things you lost. And Seungmin, he was among those that you lost but the difference this time is that you knew. You knew that he was slowly slipping away from you but you just let him. Thinking it was okay, thinking maybe, he grew tired of you, of how he was always the one to look out for you but everyone including you, knew that it doesn't make a point. Seungmin won't just slip away like that or that's what you thought. 

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin broke the endearing silence that surrounds the both of you.

“For everything.” You only stared at him which he took as a signal to go on.

“Remember the university that I always told you about before?” Of course you remember, he couldn’t stop talking about it, junior year. You nodded in response as he went on,

“The same day of Jisung’s accident, I got offered for a scholarship to study there and I didn’t know what to do. My parents kept bugging me to accept it and they are already planning for my future on their own. It was my dream school, y/n." you saw a stray tear that grazed seungmin’s left chubbier cheek that you love the most, making you want to wipe it but no, you have to keep yourself cool or all the walls that you built after him will be instantly destroyed.

"I was confused, because in every future plan that I had, prior to being offered that scholarship, you were already included," Seungmin continued, his voice cracking as he tried to suppress his sobs.

"y/n, I didn't want to lose you." he said before tears were rushing down his delicate features, 

"You already did." you said, your now glassy eyes locked with his.

"y/n–"

"No, Seungmin, you had a choice to tell me everything before. You should've told me and I would understand the situation, but you did not. Instead you slowly left me. Do you even know how much I had gone through?" you cut him off. 

"I– I'm sorry," 

Seungmin was scared, then and now, to see how you're drifting away from him. The only difference was that when he made that decision before, he was scared of his growing feelings for you, feeling more than what the title ‘best friend’ holds, which pushed him to do what he did. He knows, his defense mechanism was bullshit. But then now, he is scared of the possibility that you'll cut him off of your life, without him telling you what he truly felt just because he doesn't want to add more flame to the burning of your wounds. 

"I was a coward, I know. So, please, let me make it up to you." you scoffed at his reply,

"Why now? It's been two years, Seungmin. It probably won't hurt you to have me completely out of your life because you clearly are doing well on your own" 

"Han Jisung," he said which had taken you back,

"He won't let me near you after senior year." you sat there in silence, Jisung did what now?

"You can ask him." Seungmin added but you weren't paying attention as everything in your head is now in pure chaos. You know you can't think straight at this moment so you just sat there in silence, trying to organize the haywire in your brain.

"Did you accept the scholarship?" you asked, which startled Seungmin.

"I did." 

"Good for you. I'd feel guilty if you haven't." you sighed as you glanced at the clock and noticed that it's already half past four in the morning. You stood up from your seat, preparing to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to sleep, you?" you asked him.

"I'll stay for a while." he said, looking up at you with slumped shoulders.

"I forgive you, Min, I already did a long time ago," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"But I'm sorry, I don't think I can give you what you're looking for right now." 

There are things in your life that you have longed to look for and in some instances, you tend to find them at the most random places, in the most unexpected times. But after not seeing them for a long period of time, you happen to forget the value that it holds, how important they were, and nothing will remain besides the nostalgic memories that it held. That’s what you felt with Seungmin right now. He was your best friend, until he wasn’t. You were inseparable until he slipped away from your bond. And now, every time you see him, you’ll be reminded of how he once left you and the possibilities of it repeating. Because you believe that losing something once can be a mistake but losing it twice means you’re not responsible enough to keep it.

[folderolsfollies]

Sangyao Arranged Marriage ... Part 2

[Part 1]

Word Count: 2.5k Rating: t Warnings: None to date (there is discussion of canon events)

The Unclean Realm was a home first, and then a fortress, and then a home again, and it stands in stark, punishing angles against the mountains that enfold it. The expansions made by Nie Huaisang’s fathers and grandfather’s were hewn by descendants grimly aware of their oncoming death, who built the rooms and wrought the gates as much to keep demons locked inside as to rout the demons at their door.

But the private chambers for the family were fashioned as delicately as any Lan parlor room. These were commissioned by the butchers who founded the clan, anxious to be seen as refined as any other gentry, despite their rough origins, and so the architects were held to the highest standards of taste. And so they remain, gleaming like a pearl in the heart of the realm, embedded within its harsh grey oyster shell.

Nie Huaisang flits through its shining corridors, wrapped in grey robes woven so finely that in the moonlight they glow a pale, iridescent white.

“Da-ge, I’ve come to manipulate you”, he announces, barging into Da-ge’s private office late at night. Better to be upfront about these things with Da-ge, rather than suffer the consequences that come from him finding out about it later.

Nie Huaisang’s brother doesn’t even look up from his paperwork. His desk, a recent addition, is sturdy Qinghe steel, dominating against the elegant background. “No, you cannot get out of saber practice to go to some art show,” he grinds out, implacable as a knife on a whetstone.

Nie Huaisang, seeing that his brother isn’t going to pay any attention to his bravura performance, doesn’t bother to bristle. He just exhales noisily and says, dropping to his knees on the other side of the desk, “No, not about that,” and dutifully picks up a sheaf of letters from one of the stacks on Nie Mingjue’s desk. Stage one in his plan: here comes the filial child, helping with sect duties.

The first letter on the pile is a report of a horde of fierce corpses in a minor provincial town to the south-west of Qinghe. Nie Huaisang frowns, temporarily distracted, and reaches for one of the blank maps and ink sticks that Nie Mingjue keeps permanently on his desk.

“Do you have a map of just the fierce corpse sightings from oh, since the last new moon?” he says, absently, and wets his quill in Nie Mingjue’s inkwell.

“Decorum, Huaisang,” says Nie Mingjue roughly, and so he rolls his eyes around the flicker of annoyance, and starts grinding a fresh pot of ink for himself. Meng Yao would have let him. “And no. Why, do you see a pattern?”

“No-ot yet,” Nie Huaisang says, “No talking for ten minutes, let me draw it out.”

He’s thinking about what he’ll say if Nie Mingjue complains about being silenced in his own office, but his brother just grunts and returns to the accounts. He takes some bright red fresh ink as well as the black, and the thick sheaf of cultivator requests from the outlying counties, and places it all on his side of the large desk.

Maybe it’s just that Jin Guangyao was here, earlier, to draw out the comparison, but the office feels vaster and emptier than it did when Meng Yao’s steady presence at his own writing table anchored the other side of the room. There was something about his fine-boned face that came into focus when seen in candlelight, although it may have just been the proximity to gold.

“Look at this,” Nie Huaisang says finally, fanning at the paper to let the ink dry, “Red is the older reports, black are the corpse sightings from the past few weeks. We’ve been assuming that these corpses are all remnants of Wen casualties from the Sunshot campaign because of their robes, but Qishan is almost entirely volcanic terrain, so for a horde of mindless puppets there are only a few real possible routes of egress without being destroyed- here, here, and here.” He sketches rough circles around wide valleys. “But there’s a different pattern to these reports. If you draw a line,” and he places the ink stick down to draw out the path, “they all seem to be coming from one area in the south-west, and recently, since the older reports are clustered more south.” There’s a warm, pleased flush in his chest. Maybe he lacks cultivation skills, but there are other ways to be useful, he thinks.

Nie Mingjue glowers, and points to where the end of the ink stick lies with gathering anger. Baxia, ever responsive to his brother’s moods, lets out a warning growl in the corner. “Yiling? So this Wei Wuxian’s work?”

Nie Huaisang shakes his head. “I don’t know! I just don’t know, something about all of this doesn’t sit right.” He drags his fan over his lower lip, waiting for his logic to catch up with the conclusion. “Oh! It’s the frequency. Maybe he’s been slaughtering whole towns to get these numbers, but they would still have to pass through Jiang and Jin territory to get to us, at least, you’d expect it to be more thinned out. ”

Nie Mingjue slams his hand against the desk, but it’s his thinking rap, easily dismissed. “And we can’t overlook any non-related cause - a haunted amulet half-destroyed a town last year and caused a swarm, and that was never linked to any one sect.”

Nie Huaisang hums, flicking his fan open to cover his whole face while he thinks. “Also, Yunmeng is also pretty close to Yiling - it could be that Jiang Wanyin has decided to dip his toes into demonic cultivation.” He drags the fan down his face until it bumps against the bridge of his nose.

Over it, he looks at Nie Mingjue. Nie Mingjue looks at him. They burst into laughter as one.

“Did you hear him at the last cultivation conference when he pledged to break the legs of any demonic cultivator that crossed his border? He threatened me the exact same way when we were all at Gusu together,” Nie Huaisang wheezes. “Turns out falling asleep in class and raising the dead merit the same punishment.”

Nie Mingjue sobers suddenly at that, and says, “Sect Leader Jiang had to take on responsibilities too young, and now he’s lost his brother, and his sister has married out.” Baxia shrieks mournfully in her holder. “He’s shouldering his burdens admirably given the circumstances.”

Nie Huaisang feels his soft insides twist. There’s a cliff here waiting, and at the base is everything the two of them can’t - don’t - talk about. He tells himself in a familiar refrain that one day they will, just - not today. Instead he says, “Well, now that the Twin Heroes of Yunmeng are out of the running, maybe we can be a brother duo to rival the Twin Jades of Gusu! What do you think the two of us could be, Da-ge - the Mountain and the Small Plum?”

Nie Mingjue just looks at  Nie Huaisang for a long moment, solemn and worn, and Nie Huaisang can see the edge of the cliff in his eyes. Are you dying? Nie Huaisang thinks. Would you tell me if you thought you were? “I’d be a bad plum. I don’t wear purple,” Nie Mingjue says finally, primly.

“I will tell the matchmakers you’re funny,” says Nie Huaisang, because he can’t help it.

“Brat!” says Nie Mingjue, not unfondly.

“And sensitive.” he continues, threateningly, wagging a warning finger in his face.

“Put the map away, properly,” Nie Mingjue orders, apparently electing to ignore him. “I’m putting you in charge of following up with this, including coordinating with the cultivators for more information if necessary.”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang whines, slumping in his seat and pouting outrageously. “I came up with the idea, why can’t we put one of the deputies on it?”

“Nie Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue yells back immediately, not as loud as he can get, but loud enough to ring through the enclosed room. “You’re going to be sect leader! You have to start taking this seriously!”

Nie cultivators die early and violently as a rule, but not, as Nie Mingjue seems to be resigned to, in their 20s. Nie Huaisang’s father, who was strong, died when he was 48, and that after he was murdered. Nie Mingjue is 27, and stronger, and the world is at a tenuous version of peace. And yet he has this constant paranoia that Nie Huaisang cannot understand, as if the smoke and gore from the battlefield never washed clean from his robes. As if he knows something that Nie Huaisang does not. Nie Huaisang whips his head around, fully prepared to yell back at him, when his eyes fall on Meng Yao’s old seat. Pick your battles, second young master, he used to say, or you’ll find you’ve lost the war. He deflates. Okay, then. Okay.

“Fine, I will,” he says, a little mulishly, and starts putting away the papers and ink.

Nie Mingjue looks a little surprised. Then he puts his head in his hands like it’s an immense burden. “I never wanted us to have a title like that, you know,” he says hoarsely. “Not like the Twin Jades, or the Heroes… it boxes you in. It boxed Xichen in, him and Wangji.” When he looks up, his eyes are glassy. “I wish you could do whatever you want, Huaisang, I wish I could—“

“Oh Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang says, feeling the sting of matching tears well up in his eyes, and clasps his forearms across the table. “You’re a good brother. I know. I know.” A smaller part of him, the cold little whisper in his ear that he can never quell, tells him: this is your moment. You can use this.

Nie Mingjue smiles painfully through his tears. “Now what are you really here for?” he says, thinly.

Nie Huaisang stays silent and rolls the name of Jin Guangyao experimentally across his mind. It’s a powder-keg that will erupt the conversation when Nie Huaisang deploys it, but on the other hand, will allow his brother to wrap anger around his grief like a blanket. Da-ge is not a man inclined to accept comfort, except in the depths of despair, which he has not quite reached, yet. Anger is better. Nie Huaisang makes his choice.

“I saw Jin Guangyao today,” he says mildly, and braces himself for the explosion.

Da-ge starts ranting, of course, like an afternoon Yunmeng thunderstorm - suddenly, all at once, and just as quickly over. It is such a familiar chant that were it not for the volume, Nie Huaisang could be lulled to sleep by it. Jin Guangyao is a traitor, a murderer, a spy, vindictive and narcissistic, liable to stab you in the back, liable to stab you in the heart. The last one, of course, is not said out loud, Nie Mingjue, loudly and publicly, and perhaps even in the thoughts that he tells himself, detests his sworn brother. Really, it is no wonder that Nie Huaisang got on so well with Jiang Wanyin when they were younger. His bluster was nearly the same.

He occupies himself with thinking about his brother’s complaints. They are, of course, strictly true. And of course Da-ge can’t understand. If their places were switched, if Da-ge had grown up in a brothel and Meng Yao been a sect leader’s son, Da-ge would have striven and worked inexorably until he earned his place through merit alone. And he would have died in obscurity. At best.

As a torturer, Jin Guangyao tortured. As a deputy, he handled the accounts efficiently and well. He was the blade to be wielded, with the blade's cold pragmatism. It was love that would cut you with Meng Yao, that was the irregularity that would swing his quick, efficient strikes off target.

When Nie Mingjue finishes up, Nie Huaisang tugs at the two strands of hair hanging in front of his face. “So, will you execute him?” he asks. “You could get a tribunal.”

Over Nie Mingjue’s sputters, he sighs and says, “Manipulation, Da-ge, I told you.” Really, what would his older brother ever do without him? “But you either have to leave the war behind you or step into the future. Why would you ally with him?”

It’s a leading question, to which everyone and their sect siblings know the answer. “To lead him back to the path of righteousness.” Nie Mingjue says, dutifully as a prize pupil.

“And why would Meng Yao ally with you?” Nie Huaisang asks rudely, raising his eyebrows. “You can’t assume that it’s because he’s overjoyed to receive your lectures.” This line of questioning is dangerous, which is why it’s quite lucky that his brother has already burnt his temper out earlier.

Nie Mingjue, as expected, darkens but doesn’t explode. As a righteous and self-flagellating man, he automatically rejects the premise entirely, even as Nie Huaisang, used to chasing for expressions in Meng Yao’s ink-dark eyes, suspects it might not be entirely false. Nie Mingue says, “To ally the Jin with one of the two strongest clans.”  

“Then be his ally, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang argues. “Reprimand him in private, if you must, but in public let everyone know that the might of the Nie are behind him, or he’ll have no choice but to lean even more heavily on his father.”

Nie Mingjue sighs heavily. “You’re growing up, aren’t you, Huaisang? You almost sounded like-” He pauses awkwardly. “Well, why this sudden interest in Jin Guangyao’s welfare now?”

Who did he sound like? His father - his mother? He’s so caught up in thinking about it that when he opens his mouth the truth slips out almost unbidden. “I’ve always been interested in Jin Guangyao’s welfare.” He hastily temporizes. “You know that he always helped me establish my claim as a true Nie, even when others thought I was too weak.”

This was one of the many duties that Nie Mingjue had not thought to ask for, but which Meng Yao had anticipated. When Nie Huaisang played at giving orders to adults older and stronger than him, feeling a fool, Meng Yao would stand, properly deferential, until the soldiers relented and only Nie Huaisang could see the shadow of a smile playing around his mouth.

Rudely, Nie Mingjue looks doubtful. But the truth Nie Huaisang senses in himself is as scattered and hard to grasp as motes in the air - Meng Yao stepping in front of him automatically when the Wen attacked Cloud Recesses, the fans that appeared in his room, the way that Meng Yao looks at him, solemn and a little empty, more real than any of his daubed on smiles and thus infinitely treasured by Nie Huaisang. When his smiles reach his eyes, then I’ll have lost him, he thinks, and tucks the thought away.

Nie Huaisang sees his brother giving in on the line of his brow before he even opens his mouth. It has the weight of inevitability: his brother is constantly searching for justifications to forgive Meng Yao; to forgive Nie Huaisang.

“In public,” Nie Mingjue says. “In private, I intend to keep impressing upon him the virtue of the righteous path.” Of course he agreed, and of course he never thought to leverage the favor in order to extract any promises from Nie Huaisang about training. Nie Huaisang feels so much love for his brother suddenly that it is briefly hard to breathe.

“Of course, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang says. “And… one more thing.” He smiles a little anxiously and taps his wrist with his fan. 

“Spit it out,” Nie Mingjue says resignedly.

“Well, I was hoping that we could host a party?”

-----------

Small note on ages - I’m assuming that Nie Huaisang is 21, Meng Yao 23, and Nie Mingjue 27 at this point.

And here’s the poem NHS is referencing when he’s discussing a potenial title for the two of them!

Small Plum in a Mountain Garden

Among withered flowers plum trees brightly bloom, Dominating garden with beauty unsurpassed;

In clear and shallow water sparse branches loom, Floating in moonlit air with delicate fragrance; Eager are the winter birds who come to look, Spring butterflies they must equally enchant; To enjoy such beauty writing these few lines I have luck, Want of wine and song these blooms supplant.

—Wu Li, 2017

For a very in-depth breakdown of this poem (and why I think it fits Nie Huaisang particularly well), I really recommend Anne Lu’s essay!  Essentially the plum blossom is a winter plant - delicate, fragile, and blooming best after other plants have succumbed to the harsh terrain. I like it for our Headshaker! :) 

[sebthesnipe]

A Very Patton Christmas

Other works by me (AO3)

Tumblr Master Post

To @gilby-the-geek-girl for being the best friend a person could ask for. For without whom my writing would be riddled with errors and inconsistency, and whose gift of friendship has been the greatest thing to happen to me in a very long time. While I know you’ve read this (cuz you beta for me like the boss bitch you are) I still hope that you know that it was written with love for you. (I really don’t have time to write for anyone else XP) One day I hope you’ll have a friend at least half as good as you are (because we both no I ain’t it XP) I hope your Hanukkah wasn’t a miserable one and that you Christmas is the highlight of your 2020 (because we both know there isn’t much competition).  Prompt: Explain why Patton’s Sweater this year is so damn ugly.

Patton shifted under the mountainous pile of blankets atop him. It was early, or rather… late? He hadn’t really slept. How could he?! His favorite day of the year was here! Well, it would be.

He shifted again, this time wiggling towards where he thought one of the blankets ended and poked his head out to look at his frog shaped Wisoee alarm clock. Its dim light smiled at him reading 3:37 AM.

He held back a squeal as he ducked back into this warm cave of comforters. He couldn’t watch the clock.

A watched pot never boils,he reminded himself.

He went over the day’s schedule in his head:

Logan would already be awake and emerge at precisely 4:00 AM, as he always did. Today though, was the only day out of the year the Logan broke his (otherwise) usual routine.

Logan would skip his usual jog, replacing his gray sweats for the pajamas Patton had bought him for his birthday (a blue plaid pair of pants and a grey tee  with the text ‘Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Vote.’ printed on the front) At which point, he would make his way to the kitchen where he would start a pot of coffee for himself, Virgil, and Janus.

That would be where Patton, came in!

Patton would already be in the kitchen to start his homemade hot chocolate for himself, Roman, and Remus (With Logan’s help of course. He didn’t want another incident like the baking fiasco from a few months ago).

By the time they finished, Roman would be up, no doubt singing everyone into wakefulness. Then it would be time for hot cocoa and presents!

Patton got them all Christmas sweaters just like he did every year! He loved picking them out for each of his friends and watching them all spread out in the living room, all snug and cozy to watch their usual Christmas movie marathon!

They always let Patton pick the first movie, but there were so many good ones he usually couldn’t choose! Logan would probably chime in with the Nutcracker, not because he was a fan but because it was the only Christmas movie Roman and Remus agreed on, making  it the popular choice.

Then it would be Logan’s actual turn. He usually chose The Polar Express. Patton was pretty sure he only chose it because there were really only two Christmas movies based on books and Janus always chose A Christmas Carol. That and because Patton really liked it!

Then came Janus and finally Virgil, who was Jewish and didn’t have personal stock in Christmas, but participated for the others (which was another reason he was Patton’s favorite ,not that he’d ever admit it). Virgil always wanted to watch Die Hard, but knew Patton didn’t care for the violence much, so he usually settled for Rudolf, which warmed the fatherly figure’s heart to no end (Which was probably why Patton had bought him the collector’s edition box set of the movie). During the previous year’s viewing of the movie Virgil and Logan ended up in a discussion regarding how the song Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer was (according to Virgil) one of the only times a big corporation did what was right. Patton usually tried to follow this kind of discussion, but he usually got lost when Logan started in about percentages and underpaid artists. It just really hurt his little heart to know so many talented people out there were struggling.

The movies, as a matter of fact, were why Patton chose the sweaters he did for them this year! Each of his friends would be gifted a sweater to mirror each of their favorite Christmas movies! (Die Hard being the exception of course!)

After all that, the group would settle in for-

The alarm clock croaked loudly, signaling the arrival of 3:45 AM.

Patton’s previous thoughts evaporated into excitement as he attempted scramble from the mass of comforters, reaching to shut off the alarm.

His leg tangled in one of the large downeys and he hit the ground with a heavy thud. He paid no mind to his bruised ribs as he wrestled himself from its grasp, smacking the flashing frog to silence it.

A moment later he threw open his door, intent for the stairs.

He never made it though. At least, not at first…

Something was off.

He paused in the hallway, skin prickling at the coolness of the air.

He had only made it a few feet when he noticed it.

Roman’s door was ajar, the dark shadows of his messy room an indication of his absence…

Remus’ too. Though it was only slightly. Patton noticed the smell more than the sight.

Was everyone up before him?

He moved towards Virgil’s room, giving a soft knock before shouldering open the door.

“Hey, Kiddo. You up?” He whispered softly before noticing the unmade empty bed.

“And what would you know?!” the ‘kiddo’-in-question’s voice came in a harsh snap, drifting up from the living room.

“Keep your voice down!” Janus’ own snapped back, matching Virgil’s volume though the tone was a mock attempt at a whisper in his tone.

Patton inched closer, concern playing on his features as he flattened himself against the wall at the top of the stairs. He certainly didn’t want to intrude on his friends’ conversation, but there was obviously something was wrong.

“Bite me, snake boy!” Virgil snapped in return, though his voice was lowered.

“Don’t tempt me,” Janus hissed.

“Wait! Let me get the camera! Pics or it didn’t happen!” Remus’ voice came in a giddy giggle. “Okay, make sure you draw blood.”

“Gross,” Virgil huffed, heat gone.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Stormcloud, I think Ser Lies-a-lot is right,” Roman sighed softly. 

“You can’t be serious!” Virgil grumbled. 

“I believe he is,” Logan’s calm voice interrupted. “Statistically speaking, twenty three percent of christmas gifts in America in a given year are unwanted but kept.”

“That’s reassuring,” Virgil growled. 

“I wasn’t finished,” Logan retorted. “Given that statistic, along with the fact that individuals are more likely to gift items they like themselves, and factoring in the number of gifts we’ve received over the years. That paired with the fact that it was commissioned from an independent artist, supporting their work directly: I would say that there is a ninety-two point six five present chance that Patton will find the gift quite adequate.”

“Did you really just do all that in your head?” Janus asked curiously. 

“Actually, no,” Logan admitted. “I calculated the odds when the idea was brought up months ago, as I do with each of your christmas gifts.”

“Is that why I got socks last year?” Remus chirped. 

“Yes, well… I found that the other options would cause unease with the others,” Logan clarified.

“Boring!” 

“Don’t worry Remus, he didn’t get you a dissection kit this year to make up for it,” Janus commented sarcastically.

“What?!” Roman spat as Remus gasped excitedly. 

“I’m not even sure how you know that,” Logan sighed, probably straightening his glasses like he usually did when something annoyed him. “And I’m not sure I care to know.”

“We’re getting side tracked. He’ll be up any minute,” Virgil interrupted once more. “The fact is, it’s one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen and it’s too late not to give it to him.”

“I like it!” Remus argued.

“See!” Virgil huffed, using Remus’ opinion as evidence to the validity of his statement. 

“Ugh, maybe he has a point Teach,” Roman agreed. “I could put together a card for us to sign instead?”

“No, it’s too late for that, beside I am certain this is all an overstated concern.” Logan countered.

“Perhaps, a vote wouldn’t be appropriate?” Janus offered. 

“I agree, all in favor of giving Patton the gift we already agreed upon?” Logan asked. 

There was silence as Patton assumed a few of the boys raised their hands. 

“All opposed?” He continued.

“Remus you can’t vote twice!” Roman snapped. 

“You’re no fun!” Remus whined. “I’ll stick with J-anus then!”

“Please, continue to call me that. I just love it,” Janus deadpanned. 

“The ayes have it then,” Logan decided. 

“What eyes?” Remus chirped excitedly, but no one paid him any mind. 

“Roman, if you would be so kind as to finish wrapping the gift, I have a pot of coffee to finish,” Logan dismissed.

“I have some extra ribbon in my room. Want to help, Stormcloud?” Roman asked, making Patton tense as they headed his way. 

He didn’t wait for V to answer as Patton hurried back to his room and closed the door softly behind him. 

He really shouldn’t have eavesdropped. 

Guilt filled him as he leaned against the frame, processing everything that had been said. 

The group had never agreed on a gift for Patton. Usually Logan and Roman were the only two to get him anything and they just included the others’ names on the presents (not that Patton ever called them out on it. Why would he?). Patton didn’t mind of course, he knew they had trouble buying for him.

Logan usually got him a new hoodie or something practical like a flamingo pen, or oven mitts (though those usually only lasted about a week before Patton caught them on fire or melted them!). Roman always made him something, like the card he had mentioned, and just had the others sign it. Patton didn’t mind of course, he loved everything they gave him. It was the thought that warmed him! Even the fact that Remus refrained from his usual off the wall habits to try and make Patton more comfortable meant the world to him.

The fact that the group was so torn over his opinion broke his heart. How could they think that? What had he done to put that doubt in their mind? He had to do better! Whatever it was, he would show he loved it more than anything they had ever gotten him before.

His brows furrowed in determination. 

This would be their year!

He took a moment to gather himself before plastering on a smile and throwing open the door once more, running straight into a surprised Logan. 

Logan gave a small grunt as Patton bumped him, the mug of hot cocoa sloshing over and onto his hand. 

“Oh goodness!” Patton gasped in shock, “I’m so sorry Lo’! Are you alright?” The smaller man hurriedly took the mug from his friend’s hand and set it on the small table next to the door, frantically searching for something to clean up the mess. 

“I’m fine, Patton,” Logan reassured, producing a blue handkerchief from his pant pocket and wiping the warm liquid off his hand. Leave it to Logan to have his handkerchief with him despite wearing pajamas. “I made sure the liquid was at an acceptable temperature for this exact reason.”

“Oh! I hope I didn’t ruin your new PJs!” Patton cried, already pushing Logan’s arms up to examine the flannel. 

There wasn’t a stain to be found. Logan arched a brow as he waited for Patton to satisfy his need for the inspection before sighing. 

“Truly, Patton, I’m fine. Are you?” Logan asked, his neutral expression turning to one of concern. 

“What?” Patton hummed, glancing up to meet the taller man’s eyes. “Of course! I wasn’t the one holding the cup!” 

“I wasn’t referring to the cocoa,” Logan pointed out, lowering his arms. “It’s 4:17. It isn’t like you to be so unpunctual on Christmas day.” 

“Oh…” Patton whispered, lowering his gaze in shame. Should he tell him? It wasn’t right to keep secrets. Would he be upset if he found out Patton had been eavesdropping? No… Today was their day… He wouldn’t do anything to upset them. “No. I’m fine!” Patton reassured, suddenly as chipper as ever as he offered out a smile. 

Logan eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to wearily accept the answer. 

“Well, I thought your traditional cup of cocoa would help if anything were amiss,” Logan nodded towards the cup, bringing Patton’s attention to it once more. 

Logan had made it without him? 

Patton could feel the mask around his heart start to crack a little as his stomach sank. He supposed it made sense that Logan wouldn’t really need him to make it… Still, that was Patton and Logan’s Christmas tradition… It hurt that he had been left out of it. 

“Aw! Thank you Logan!” Patton forced out in his preening voice as if nothing was wrong. 

This was their day, not his. 

“That’s so sweet!” He added, collecting the mug and taking a small sip. Somehow it didn’t taste as good as it usually did. 

“You’re very welcome, Patton,” Logan replied with a small tilt of his lips. 

His crooked smile also seemed to soften his features; Patton loved that about him. It made his sudden disappointment worth it. 

“I know we usually have a schedule for the holiday, but…” Logan paused as if he were nervous. What an odd look for the scholar. “Well, the others requested a change in plans.”

Patton’s heart sank. What kind of change? Did they not like the way they usually celebrated Christmas? Why hadn’t they told him? Was his idea of Christmas really so one sided? How had he not noticed this before? Was that why Logan was so nervous?

No… It didn’t matter. This was their day, not his.

“What kind of change, kiddo? I’m sure whatever it is will be great! It’s Christmas after all!” Patton responded, despite the way his stomach knotted. 

“Well,” Logan began, stepping aside. “Perhaps it would be best if they explained it.”

Patton hesitated before nodding taking the lead as they walked down the hall. What if they didn’t want to do hot cocoa and movies any more? What if they didn’t want to celebrate Christmas at all?! Was that why they came together for a gift? To appease Patton? They were all getting older and it wasn’t as if they had children. Maybe they felt like Christmas wasn’t for adults…

That was ridiculous, Patton knew that. But still…

He headed down the stairs, a smile still glued to his lips as he caught sight of Remus and Janus whispering over a small box. 

“I told you, it's for you!” Janus hissed at the mustached man next to him, fending him off the plain white box in his hands. 

“I helped pick them out! I should be allowed first dib-” Remus cut himself off as Janus elbowed him in the ribs pulling his attention up to Patton, just as he took the last step on the landing. 

“I didn’t lick them, I swear!” Remus called out, smiling broadly in his stained Oscar the Grouch onesie. “Okay maybe a few.”

Janus rolled his eyes, dressed in his usual suit and hat, not bothering with a comment. 

“Good Morning, Patton, slept horribly I hope?” Janus asked pleasantly. 

“Hey, kiddos. You’re up early,” Patton offered, feeling more uneasy than ever; something that must have shown because at that moment Logan leaned down to whisper in the smaller man’s ear. 

“Are you sure you are alright Patton?” he asked softly. “If you’re not feeling well then perhaps you should rest. I’m sure we can put this off unti-”

“Hola, Padre!” Roman’s voice came,  cutting off Logan’s words. 

Patton glanced up at the two figures standing at the top of the stairs. Roman, straight backed, hands behind him as he stood tall in his prince pajamas; Virgil behind him, using him to practically hide his small form, dressed in his Jack Skeleton onesie. 

“Roman, Virgil! You’re up already! This is a surprise!” Patton feigned excitement.

“Definitely a Christmas miracle,” Janus sighed. 

No one paid the comment any mind as Roman hurried down the stairs. Grin wide.

“Well this is a special day, Padre!” Roman explained as Virgil followed after, rolling his eyes. 

“Bah-Humbug,” the black and white clad man grumbled in response. Though it may have been Patton’s imagination, but Virgil's eyeshadow looked a few shades lighter than usual. 

“Feliz Navidad Patton! Merry Christmas!”Roman sang, producing the present from behind his back and offering it out. 

Patton’s heart skipped a beat, hesitating as he glanced around the room at each of his friends. They all looked so nervous… Even Janus. 

His attention went back to the gift being presented. It was a decent sized package with rainbow wrapping paper, black and white striped ribbon, and a green and blue bow that sat just above a small yellow tag that read ‘To: Janus From: Patton’.

Despite Patton’s dread and apprehension, he couldn’t help but smile at the packaging. They had even come together on the wrapping. It was very sweet. 

He glanced up at Roman who nodded eagerly, indicating that Patton was welcome to it. 

“You guys! You didn’t have to do all this!” He whispered in awe, voice cracking as tears began filling his eyes.

No matter what happened, Patton was awed by the fact that the boys went to so much trouble for him. They had come together for him. It didn’t matter if they were too old for Christmas!

He tugged at the ribbon, finding it firmly in place, before turning it over and trying again. After flipping it once more he heard Logan give a small chuckle. 

“May I?” his soft calm voice came. Patton nodded, handing over the package to Logan and wiping away a tear he felt rolling down his cheek. 

Logan’s nimble fingers loosened the bow and the surrounding ribbon, careful not to ruin them (he knew Patton loved to keep them and hang them above his mirror to admire later). Logan set the ribbon aside before handing the package back to the smaller man.

“Thank you,” Patton murmured weakly, gently tearing the wrapping to slide the sleek white box from inside. 

“This is worse than waiting for a magnet you swallowed to come out the other end!” Remus chimed in excitedly. 

“Ugh! Does he really have to be here?!” Roman whined, causing Patton’s grin to turn genuine.

The momentary distraction had him feeling a bit better as he slid a nail under the lid of the box, breaking the tape there and pulling open the lid. 

Wrapped loosely in a thin tissue paper lay a DVD copy of The Shop Around the Corner, a mug that, when you sip it, makes the drinker look like the bottom half of their face belongs to a puppy, and some kind of knitted fabric.

“Ah! You guys!!!” Patton squealed, tears beginning to fall as he collected the mug and movie, setting them aside and pulling out the sweater to get a better look at it. 

The light blue knitted midsection was covered in what, he assumed, was supposed to be some kind of icing pattern? Or perhaps whipped cream? Lace? He wasn’t sure. There was also a brown bow tie that was maybe supposed to be chocolate? Down the center was a line of pink chocolate chip cookie buttons. The bright pink sleeves had much of the same design though instead of pink cookies they were light blue.

It may have been the ugliest excuse of a sweater Patton had ever seen.

Silence fell in the rooms everyone waited for Patton’s reaction. 

“We know it’s not as good as the ones you get us,” Virgil chimed in nervously. “But we thought that maybe you’d like one of your own?” 

“The mug, of course, is so you won’t have to make so many trips for more cocoa,” Logan added with a soft smile. “I thought the others would like to help us make the rest after you change, of course. If you’d like.”

“The rest?” Patton asked, breath hitching as the tears threatened to fall. “You mean… You didn’t make it without me?” He sniffled.

“What?” Logan blinked in surprise. “Of course not, Patton. Making hot chocolate for everyone is a tradition I enjoy spending with you. I would never-”

“Well, it's just… you brought the mug up… So, I thought…” Patton let his voice fade as he watched understanding flash over Logan’s features.

“I was worried there might be something wrong. I thought waking you with your own mug would be a nice surprise.” Logan explained. “I apologize if I gave the wrong impression, Patton. I only made the one mug. I know you find a great deal of happiness in our customary time in the kitchen. I would not want to take that from you.”

“But…” Patton murmured, eyes shifting to the others. “Everyone’s already awake… And you were all together… I don’t want to impose on-”

“¡Espera! ¡Espéra! ¡Espéra!” Roman interrupted, looking both surprised and concerned. “I did not wake up far before my beauty rest was done to hear this slander especially from Mr. Spirit of Christmas, himself! Patton, with you there is no Christmas.”

“Roman is right, Patton,” Virgil shrugged, shrinking a bit lower into his hood. “I certainly wouldn’t be celebrating and we definitely wouldn’t have come together to get you the gifts. 

“I know Shop Around the Corner isn’t usually on our Christmas Merry Marathon list, but you never really get to pick a movie and I know it’s your favorite,” Roman pitched in. “At least, that's what Janus claims.”

“I totally didn’t check your browsing history,” Janus shrugged.

“And I edited the email to the artist!” Remus added proudly.

“That… explains a lot,” Logan whispered under his breath softly.

“We also didn’t bring you cookies from that bakery you hate.” Janus stated, setting the box he had been holding down on the small table next to him. 

Patton was silent throughout the exchange, burying his face into the soft fabric as he began to shake silently with his sobs. 

“I told you he wouldn’t like it!” Virgil cried desperately.

“No!” Patton responded, voice breaking. “I love it! I love all of it!” He dropped his hands just enough to rush forward, wrapping both Virgil and Roman into a great big hug. “Thank you so much! It’s perfect!” 

Roman gave a boisterous laugh, returning the hug as Virgil couldn’t help but smile; both grunting as Remus piled atop them. 

Logan approached, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulders in reassurance. 

“Well, this is certainly a disgusting sight,” Janus sighed, though he was grinning as well. 

“I love you guys so much!” Patton laughed, the weight on his heart lifting to the point of forgetfulness. How could he have ever thought these men didn’t need him or wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with him. They were his family!

“Is it just me or is this oddly arousing?” Remus purred.

“Ugh!” Roman and Virgil both scoffed at once, shoving the rank smelling man away from them. 

“Why do you have to ruin everything?!” Roman growled, dragging his brother away.

Patton didn’t mind the outburst, however, far too busy hurrying up the stairs to change so they could get their Best Christmas EVER underway…

The End...

[magpiemorality]

Oh! It’s Saturday! I can send in a prompt! So way back when Altruistic Skittles did the first of the nightmare series, with Remus, you reblogged and said you might want to write something based on the picture. Last I knew, she said that people can write fanfictions from the pictures, as long as they’re properly credited. If that’s still something you’d be interested in, I’d love to see it!

This is very big, somewhat in honour of Remus’ birthday today, a very long and dramatic origin for him.

Check out the amazing art that prompted this fic here :) and thanks to @altruistic-skittles​ for making it and allowing works based off it!! 

Also thanks to @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth for giving this a glance over for me on very short notice :)

Warnings: unreliable narrator, Anxiety is viewed as a bad guy, Remus isn’t particularly friendly, long post.

AO3

***

Roman had been feeling off for a while. He was far from the only one; puberty was tough on every aspect of Thomas, including Logan who had been stretched to his limits trying to keep up with all the demands of an average American high school life. But with Anxiety suddenly in the picture things were even more complicated. Who was he? Where had he come from? And why wouldn’t he leave?

In all honesty Roman hadn’t actually known there were other sides. He’d sort of, maybe naively, assumed that the three of them were the sum of Thomas’ parts, and that they covered everything Thomas would ever need. Sort of like Inside Out, which had in no way at all influenced their existence; they were the pilots who tended to the world inside Thomas’ busy head, just… minus the less good parts. Maybe Thomas didn’t need avatars for those things; maybe he didn’t value them that way, or maybe he just didn’t view them as part of himself?

It was an unfinished theory, but Roman mostly left those sorts of things to Logan, and Logan was too busy for much introspection these days. Which was why Anxiety had gone unchecked for so long.

Sometimes it felt like only Roman was the target of his attacks. Logan faltered, sure, but he was stubborn as all hell when it came to his routines and priorities and Anxiety hadn’t managed to shake them too much just yet. Logan was too established in Thomas’ head to allow wiggle room for anxious thoughts to disrupt his work. Patton also seemed to get away with coexisting with the guy; they fed off each other, or perhaps Anxiety had seen Patton’s power and figured it was easier to work with him than against him, turning good feelings to worry and guilt.

Okay so maybe Patton wasn’t unaffected, but he was so good at putting on a brave face that Anxiety had evidently seen fit to back off out of pure pity, and that left Roman. 

Roman, Roman, Roman, trying his best to stay afloat on the sea of schoolwork and stress, to throw creativity into Thomas’ days so his smile wouldn’t fade. Until stupid, miserable, Despicable He, came along and took it upon himself to thwart Roman’s noble goal.

Their fights were spectacular, unfortunately often feeding into the influence Anxiety had clawed for himself over Thomas and leaving him feeling worse than before Roman had begun the battle. Not that Roman ever started things! He just kept trying to do his work, to do his best, and then Anxiety would show up and bam! Thomas’ hand would falter when writing his cathartic fanfiction, or his mind would blank as he searched for the lines to his latest monologue, or his voice would wobble and break on the notes of a song.

So things were weird, and that wasn’t all.

All it took in the end were a few cutting remarks from Anxiety that didn’t make any sense, and Roman was lost to that edge of paranoia, forever wondering what he meant. A jibe about Thomas not being a perfect person; a sneer laughing at how none of them had even known Anxiety existed before he’d appeared; a scoff that came with the bold assertion that just pretending you weren’t like that didn’t mean you actually weren’t. He seemed to reference someone else sometimes, with a vicious sort of victory that was at least in part tainted with misery, someone who- if Roman was interpreting the clues right- Thomas didn’t even know worked for him, who Anxiety had escaped from. 

And then there was the matter of the tower.

~

Roman stared out of the bedroom window. It was his bedroom, his own copy of Thomas’, and if he focused hard enough he could see the shimmering after-images of the original, with Thomas’ homework on the desk, his clothes on the floor, his posters not quite matching up to Roman’s. He wasn’t in his room like Roman was, downstairs at dinner with the family, and not thinking too hard with his creativity. It left Roman free to do what he so often did these days; stare out of the window. 

Spread out below him was the familiar, comforting sight of the backyard, with its play area and the patio and the grass, the treehouse in the far right corner looking shabbier than ever from its lack of use. Thomas’ dad had been talking of taking it down soon now the kids were too old to use it, but both Patton and Roman- and in fact Anxiety in a rare display of unity- had dug their heels in as Thomas instinctively balked at the prospect of losing just another tie to his childhood. Patton had discovered nostalgia recently and Anxiety had discovered how much Roman feared the term ‘growing up’ and the treehouse was just a big old symbol for all of them to cling to. A beacon of bad things; a final point of no return. 

Roman hadn’t been inside in years, in all honesty, but curiously Thomas had, and more than once. Whatever occurred in there Roman wasn’t sure, but he felt a sense of… something faintly off whenever he looked at the treehouse, that hadn’t entirely started after he’d stopped going inside. This time was no different, and he wondered what the slight churn in Thomas’ gut meant, now that Roman had inadvertently bent his thoughts in the direction of the bottom right corner of the garden. Why picking at the faint memories of the interior of that shadowy wooden structure made their creator push his food around the plate and focus extra hard on talking about his classes, shutting Roman out soundly. 

The treehouse was still there, still dark and foreboding and strange. Roman’s eyes started to water slightly, warping the image, until it flickered ever so quickly.

 He gasped, shoving his whole body forwards, pressing his nose to the glass as it fogged around him with his quick breaths, trying to see it again. 

It remained stubbornly as it always had been, leaving Roman to wonder if he’d imagined the flash of dark, crumbling tower that had blinked into and out of existence. 

But he hadn’t, because as he lay in bed that night, doodling ideas into his notebook while Thomas tried to fall asleep, the shadows outside his window lengthened and the light that should have fallen on his curtains was slowly, steadily blocked out. The darkness felt cool, and thrilling in the way watching a horror movie when you weren’t supposed to felt thrilling, with that edge of risk to it that got your heartbeat going and made your palms clammy. Roman could feel the moment Anxiety noticed it as well, because Thomas’ brain whirred back awake in an instant, the tossing and turning that disrupted him more and more often these teenage nights starting up yet again. Logan began gamely battling to get Thomas to continue on to sleep, Logic coming up against Anxiety for once, but Roman… 

Roman got out of bed, creeping out of his room and down the hall, sneaking carefully down the stairs one by one so Logan wouldn’t notice and stop fighting with Anxiety. The tiled floor was cool under his bare feet as he crossed it to the back door, sliding it open with a soft whoosh of the well-used mechanism. 

The tower awaited him, taller than the treehouse had ever been and far more foreboding. It was made of dark, black brick, slimy and badly worn, surrounded by thorns and with no discernible entrance. A real Rapunzel tower, straight from the Grimm brothers themselves. 

A fairy-tale come to life. And Thomas hadn’t imagined Roman in the image of a dashing Disney prince for nothing; so he started forwards, heedless of his lack of shoes or weapons or anything. He had his curiosity and that was a thousand times more powerful in that moment than anything else. He wanted to know, and whatever thing (maybe a monster? Roman had only vague theories but he was leaning towards trapped monster) was imprisoned within; it felt close to escape. 

Were he Logan in that moment, Roman would theorise that the tower held some kind of dark aspect of Thomas that he’d hidden from himself, and that in the darkness before sleep it was hardest to maintain the lie, confronted with the harsh truth of oneself. But Roman wasn’t Logan, and he didn’t think too deeply beyond thing bad- must know more. 

He got through the thorns with relative ease, considering how large and deadly they looked from across the garden. All it took was a stick from the pile they kept for a bug hotel, a brief flash of inspiration turning it to a shining sharp sword that sliced neatly through each thick tendril until they started to wither away from him as he approached and revealed a door with no lock nor handle, carved into the base of the tower. 

Curiosity won again as Roman kicked it in, crumbling the ancient wood. He gasped, coughing as a thick gust of stale air wheezed out. It left Roman’s stomach twisting with nausea, but the need to be the prince and climb the tower was too strong to be deterred. Inside the house Anxiety upped the ante and Logan turned too late towards his own window, missing seeing Creativity take a step forwards and disappear into the treehouse. 

~

It was dark inside, that was the first thing Roman noticed. It was obviously going to be dark, a tower with no windows, but the darkness felt more than that. It felt like it hid an endless number of bad things waiting to come forwards, to pounce at any moment. The walls were horribly slimy when Roman used them to find the winding staircase, and the smell… Better not to mention it at all. 

Suddenly, the sound of whispered movement from above. 

“Hello?” Roman called softly, hoping he’d imagined it. Nothing replied, but the darkness felt closer, and he hurried upwards with the sword ready. “Anyone there?”

A pair of yellow eyes watched, waiting, from below, but Roman never looked down, intent on reaching his goal. He didn’t see the way the door was repairing itself, or how the thorns had regrown. His only thoughts were for the top of the tower and what lay in wait. 

There was the tiniest crack of light when he got up at long last, feet sore and eyes dry from straining to see something. It was a sliver from under a door, faint silver light, the only hint there was a door there at all until he felt it under his fingertips. 

It didn’t budge when he touched it, and once again there was no sign of a handle. Roman kicked it with a frustrated sigh, only to freeze totally still when the whisper of movement came again, -only this time, closer and clearer- it sounded a little like rusted metal, sliding against itself. 

The eyes down below, having followed the prince’s progress, narrowed in thought, but before they could make a decision Logic gained the upper hand over Anxiety back in the house and for a brief, shining moment, the tower was lit up bright and the door clicked open. 

Roman threw himself in before it could close again, and just in time too, because the light faded not a moment later, the door sealing itself up again. How he was going to get out, he wasn’t sure. But that was a problem for later- the fairy-tale dictated he had reached his goal. This was the end of the story. 

So what was his prize? 

There was a shape, in the room. A figure, about his own size, sat facing the window. Roman blinked hard to clear the spots that danced over his vision in the wake of the sudden flash of light, and the figure came slowly into view in the murk. A boy, with poufy sleeves and an outfit to match the setting, staring out of the window back towards the house. Back towards Thomas, back towards where Roman had been staring out from. The boy yawned, stretching his arms up and it was then that Roman noticed the chains. 

He was chained to the floor. Was this the monster at the top of the tower? Or the… dude in distress?!

This wasn't actually a fairy-tale, so the former seemed exponentially more likely, and Roman gulped as fear took root. 

“I know, I know, come to shut me up again. I just wanted a bit of fun, D-“ 

The boy stopped, frozen as still as Roman’s heart as it skipped a beat. Two identical faces, two sets of identical eyes, stared in horror and dawning, dim comprehension at each other. 

“You’re Roman!” The other boy shrieked, loud enough to make Roman flinch back. It stopped the grin on the chained boy’s face in its tracks, and he tilted his head, eyes turning cold and calculating in a heartbeat. 

“Who are you?” Roman squeaked, barely able to get his voice to work. “Why are you locked up? Are you evil? Does Thomas have…” his voice fell to a whisper. “A Dark side?”

The boy cackled, a joyful sound that shouldn’t have been as unsettling as it was. The clanking of the chains as he doubled over only heightened the feeling that something was wrong, and Roman screamed when the boy darted forwards suddenly. 

He was yanked back by the chains, snapping his jaw in Roman’s face with a wild snarl and snorting with amusement when Roman’s back hit the far wall, sword out and shaking in his unsteady grip. “A dark side? Everyone’s got a dark side, Prince Perfect. If you think you don’t, you’re just not looking hard enough." 

"Thomas is good!" 

"Thomas is real,” the boy purred, moving back to sit at the window again, gazing back towards the house. The distant sensation of Logic and Anxiety fighting for the upper hand grew when Patton joined, his constant underlying guilt swelling support for their anxious antagonist. The chained boy laughed, fingers tapping against his face too quick for Roman to even see, lips moving soundlessly on words Roman definitely didn’t want to hear. “Have you come to defeat me, Roman? No, you didn’t even know I was here, did you. Locked in my tower, kept from my one true calling. It’s for my own good, you know? D- the dragon that guards me says so. It’s for everyone’s good that I don’t get out, most of all Thomas’.” The name felt reverent the way the boy said it, softly and sweetly, like calling the name of a deity. It made Roman wince. “It’s only right that a villain should be kept away.”

“Who are you?" 

"I’m you, but stronger,” the boy retorted, breaking into cackles. “I’m you but scarier. That’s what they thought, anyway. I think I’m just something else. I think I’m bad news. I think Thomas is bad news…" 

Roman wouldn’t stand for that. He held his sword out more confidently, raising his chin. "Thomas is a great guy! He’s the best! He’s full of good things and light and-”

“And darkness and wondering, wandering thoughts and impulses, just like anyone. Even you. You would kill me if you thought you should, if you thought it was your Disney story, wouldn’t you. Without hesitation, but Roman! Killing is wrong!”

“Not in Disney!" 

”Even in Disney!“

A howl of rage echoed around the tower, along with the sound of metal on stone as Roman brought the sword down on the window ledge beside the boy’s hands. The chained boy didn’t flinch, just beaming victoriously at Roman, cackling his disquieting cackle. 

"Who are you really?! Tell me!" 

The boy opened his mouth to speak, a hunger in his eyes that Roman didn’t understand, but the tower shuddered. His eyes darted to the door and Roman’s couldn’t help but follow. "Oh dear, Roman. You shouldn’t have come here. Curiosity killed the cat, you know, and the witch is on his way to toss you out of the tower…”

“I thought you said it was a dragon?”

“Dragon, witch, there was a time when there wasn’t any difference to you. Maybe you’re learning some nuance now though. That’s gotta be rough, buddy, you’re practically made from simplicity.”

Roman narrowed his eyes at the insult, and the tower shuddered again. The boy picked up his cackling again, louder and louder as the shuddering turned to heavy footsteps approaching up the stairs. And Roman wondered, if this was the monster that guarded this boy, what did that make the boy?

“He’s here.”

The door burst open, a hazy shape flying in and grabbing Roman, what felt like giant claws snatching him up and carrying him out of the tower, dropping him hard onto the lawn before it whirled back around and vanished back into the… treehouse? 

The tower was gone. The treehouse looked like it always had, dark and grim, but it was definitely just the same treehouse as ever. 

He fell back, sprawling on the grass as his limbs turned to jelly from the residual adrenaline, while inside Anxiety let up at last and Logan won the battle for the night. Thomas slipped uneasily into dreams.

The tug of unconsciousness grew heavy, dragging on Roman’s very being now his creator had finally fallen asleep. He just about managed to drag himself inside to bed before succumbing at last, glad to leave the whole strange night behind him. 

-

Masterlist | Buymeacoffee

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 64)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:2655

Warnings: Language, dark moment for reader, 5 yrs after the snap, grief, anger, killing spree, new love, endgame plot, enter Uncle  Wade Wilson,hope, worry, Song for this part: Cruel Summer- Taylor swift Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

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

“Don’t kill me, I have family,” the man begged. 

“So did I.” 

You charged the knife and flung it at his head, stabbing him between the eyes instantly killing him. 

That was the last of one of the cartels in Brazil. He was a ruthless, horrible man that you’d been tracking for two months. Him and about ten others who worked for him. But you’d just single handedly killed all ten of them in their warehouse. 

About eight months ago, you ran into Clint Barton. Apparently, when the snap happened, he lost his entire family and went off the deep end like you did. He was filled with bitter rage. Wondering why monsters like this survived and his family was gone. You were both tracking the same people and when you found each other, you agreed to stay together. It made sense and both of you felt like it was nice to see a familiar face with a similar past and same vendetta.

Remy followed you everywhere. He stayed in horrible hotels and motels, just to follow you around. Sometimes he followed you on your missions, lingering in the shadows making sure you didn’t get hurt or need backup. You and Clint sometimes fought together, so he wasn’t too worried, but other times you two worked separate jobs or different jobs in the same area, and that’s when Remy would watch out for you.

You came back to the room you’d rented. Since the job was done, you’d pack, sleep, and move onto the next target you’d talked about with Clint. Remy stayed out of the way of you two, never saying or offering any judgment or criticism. He understood the path you two were on. He didn’t like it, and he didn’t think it was bringing you much joy, but this was what you wanted, and to be honest, the world was better without the people you were killing. 

By now it had been five years since the snap. Your first year was filled with global travel then settling down in New Orleans. The second year you tried to find domestic bliss with Remy, the two of you having steady jobs. Then the last 3 years were filled with hate, rage, murder, vendettas. 

What you did… what you were doing… it didn't bring you joy, but it made you feel better for a split second that horrible people weren't ruining good people's lives. 

Remy had been great since the day he showed up in Paris. He had been understanding of Loki and never pressured you to move on. Remy understood where he stood in your heart and he accepted it because this was all he had wanted for many years. He wished he didn't have to watch you suffer and grieve to get to this point, he somehow wished things were different in that he was your first choice and not Loki. But ultimately, he respected your heart's desires. 

Truthfully, you did love Remy. You had told Shannon what seemed like centuries ago that perhaps in another life where you didn't know Loki existed or had never met him, Remy would be your one and only. Now that Loki was gone though, it felt so wrong. It felt wrong to be happy, to even think of moving on, to even entertain the idea of loving another. 

Half of you couldn’t imagine moving on without Loki - he was your life, your life, your world. He’s the one you wanted to share your life with. The other half felt guilty to experience any happiness, because it was your fault the world was the way it was. Why should you get a happy ending when it was your fault everyone was in this living Hell?  

But your heart doesn’t listen to logic or reason. You didn’t mean to fall in love... 

This had been on your mind for quite some time. Perhaps right after he almost proposed was when you started to really take notice of him. But it wasn't until maybe three months ago, almost five years after the snap, that you felt like you could maybe allow yourself to love him back. 

You weren't ready to give up on Loki, or even consider moving on, but perhaps there was room enough for more than one love in your heart. 

Remy had been nothing but kind, sweet, understanding, and supportive. He let you grieve and deal with things the way you needed to. If you ever asked for space, or pulled away from a kiss, he didn't get upset or disappointed. He'd just assure you it was alright. He was with you, day in and day out, practically since the snap happened. Without him, you weren’t sure you would’ve survived this long.

After all that, and everything you went through as children together, how could you not love him? 

Simple: you did.

“How’d it go?” Remy asked once you got inside the hotel room. He was reading a magazine at a bar in the little kitchenette the place offered. 

“Job’s finished,” you answered simply. 

“So it’s Japan next?” 

“Yep.” 

You started to grab some quick food to make yourself some dinner. “I’m sorry to do this to you. To drag you all over the world for some… vendetta.” 

“It’s alright. I know why you have to do it,” he assured. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you smiled, pulling the food from the cabinet. Something in you told you he needed to know how you felt. That it was the right time, if there ever was a right time. 

It was time to face the harsh reality that Loki wasn’t coming back. None of them were. You couldn’t live every day in his memory, drowning in grief and depression. It was time to move forward, as hard as it was, you knew it was the right decision. And doing it with Remy wouldn’t be so bad, right? He was a wonderful man with a big heart.

"For whatever it's worth, I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?” you asked through tears as you turned around to face him, a bit of a laugh coming out of you. 

He looked up grinning like the devil. “I think that’s the best news I ever heard,” he countered, getting up to round the bar before he took you in a hug. “I know that was hard for you to say, cher, but I love you all the more for it,” he assured softly as he brushed his knuckles across your face.

You gently smiled before giving him a quick kiss. 

It looked like this was the start to the beginning of a new chapter for you.

---------------------------------

You were in Japan now, taking care of one of the mafia that had been in power for decades here. You just decimated one of their safehouses, leaving a pile of bodies behind you. Clint was digging up more information at the moment and he would take the next hit on the mob. 

Just as you grabbed Remy to go find some dinner, you two were walking down the street, it was wet from a recent rainstorm when you suddenly heard someone say your name from behind you as they grabbed your hand. 

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Wade said. “Of course your Y/N who am I kidding”. He went to pull your hand.

The sudden action made you move reflexively. 

As you spun, you charged his hand and as he pulled away to gasp in pain, you mustered up your dark electrical purple energy in your left fist and slammed it into his chest, the heel of your palm colliding with his sternum. It sent him flying backwards into a cart on the sidewalk. You straightened up before glancing back to Remy, confusion on your face.

“You’re not exactly friendly, are you?” the man asked as you stared at him. He was getting up, wiping the debris off himself. He was clad in a red and black suit from head to toe. “Should have known better than to try that.” His tone had a sort of whimsy to it , almost as if he was telling a joke. 

“Who the hell are you?” you all but growled, your fist raised and still glowing.

Remy came up behind you though and gently lowered your arm. “Cher, I know this man.”

“You know him?” you accused, as if knowing this idiot was an inexcusable offense.

“Unfortunately, yes. This is Wade Wilson. He’s an X-Man,” Remy explained.

“Correction I am not an X-men,” he offers his hand. “Deadpool’s the name killing’s my game.” He pretended to curtsey.

Your eyes shot back to the man now known as Wade and you narrowed your gaze. “Why are you here? What do you want with me?”

“First of all, let me just say wow about that little trick of yours. Also to be fair, you overreacted,” he quipped.

“Overreacted? Some stranger just grabbed my hand. You're lucky I didn’t kill you. Now what the hell are you doing here?” 

“Listen here, buttercup, I’m here on a favor of Shannon Stark. Remember her?” 

Your mouth fell open slightly. “You know Shannon?” 

“Yeah, we go way back!” He waved his hand. “I babysit her kid time from time but the point is, she wanted me to find you, to bring you home. She’s worried about you or something. I wasn’t really listening. I just owe her a favor so I got the gist of the mission and then said, ‘You owe me one hundred chimichangas and not the cheap stuff because I know Stark can afford the nice ones so don’t even think about skimping on --” 

“Do you ever stop talking?” you interjected, glaring at him. “Wait, did you say Shannon’s kid?” This hit you like a wrecking ball. 

Shannon had a child? There was… she… a child? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Remy responded as he stared him down. “Wade, go on home now. Y/N and I don’t wanna go back. We’re happy and we are on our own.”

“Yeah see that wasn’t really part of the contract. I’m supposed to bring you back and --”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you can’t bring me back, I’m not going.” 

“You’re gonna break Shannon’s heart,” he said with fake sadness. 

“I already did, but nice try.” You turned and started to walk away.

“Well too bad because I don’t take no for an answer so gear up, we’re heading back now.” He went to pick you up. “And don’t try doing that little trick of yours again. Shannon said to bring you back but she didn't say in what condition.” Deadpool smirked. 

“I already told you, asshat, I’m not going anywhere with you,” you replied and jumped back flaring up your purple energy. “You can just tell her you haven't found me.”

“Well it looks like that won’t be necessary. See the thing is she already knows you’re here.” Wade sing-songs. “When you weren't looking, I sent coordinates and they had been on standby.” 

“You what?!” you all but shouted, terror snaking in your voice. “Remy, we have to go.” You started to turn and grab his sleeve. 

Unbeknownst to you, Shannon had already gotten there and was waiting for the moment to appear. 

“Are you really going to be a sack of unicorn shit and just break her heart like that?” Wade asked, cocking his head. “So much for being a good sister.” 

Feeling guilty you turned to him. “She’s survived without me for this long I’m sure she’s more than fine.” You shook her head. “And what's a little heartbreak when she’s fine?” 

Just then Shannon walked out of the alley she and Natasha had been waiting in. Both women went their separate ways. Shannon to you and Nat to Clint. 

“So you’re really okay with breaking my heart after everything we’ve been through?” Shannon called out loud enough for you to hear. “What happened to being family?”

The sound of her voice cut you like a knife. 

“You’ve got your own family now, it sounds like. I thought you’d be better off without me, and it appears I was right.” You let your hands span out beside you before falling, a sad smile on your face. 

“Y/N, you’ve been gone for 5 years! You have no idea what's happened in that time.” She shook her head. “We may have found a way to reverse what Thanos did, but we need you—I need you.” She stretched her hand out to you.

“Sorry to ruin the moment but I’ve done my part,” Wade interrupted the moment. “Now when do I get my chimichangas?” 

You eyed Wade for a moment, irritated with him after only five minutes. Then your gaze shot to Shannon’s hand. 

“Really, Wade? Couldn’t this wait till after we got back?” Shannon asked, looking a little annoyed. “Plus they’re at the cabin, hidden because you got Morgan addicted to those!” she retorted.

Sheepish, he ducked his head. “It’s not my fault the kid hasn't tried all the good stuff.” Shrugging, he added, “It’s not like they’ll harm her anyways.” 

“Just get back to the quinjet.” Shannon turned her head facing you again as Wade retreated. “Sorry about that, he can be a lot to handle sometimes.”

“Clearly. Much like, was it, Morgan? A child? You have a child?” There was venom and betrayal in your voice. Although, to be fair, she had no way to reach out to you to give you any news. That was on you. 

“We can talk all about it, if you come back with me.” 

“Why do you need me?” you questioned. 

“It’s an all hands on deck sort of situation. You’re just about the only one who stands a chance against him.”

“But last time--”

“Last time was different. We know what we’re up against now. There may be a way to reverse it. To get everyone back.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You hadn’t cried over Loki in some time. He was on your mind, every day, always, but the grief laden sobs had slowly died down over the last five years. 

“Don’t promise something you can’t deliver,” you warned, your fist balled up. You could tell Remy was getting worried at your side. “I can’t go through this again.”

She stepped even closer to you, taking your hand. “You won’t. We will win this time. I promise. You need to come home, Y/N. It’s time.” 

You looked back to Remy who gave you a look that told you this was your choice, your call. You knew he’d follow you anywhere, no matter what you chose. 

You heaved a sigh and turned back to Shannon, giving a firm nod to let her know you were in. This is what you’d been waiting for. Now it was finally here, and even if it meant possibly losing everything again, going through the same pain again, it was worth it to try and get everyone back. To get him back.

Once everyone was back on the quinnjet. Things got a bit quieter. You had fallen asleep, leaning on Remy. Shannon walked over to the two of you and covered you in a blanket. 

“Here, she’ll get cold soon, she always does when she’s on here.” She smiled sadly seeing just how tired and bruised you looked. “I’ll let Tony know you’ll be staying with us. Did you want to share the room with Y/N or your own?” she asked, unsure of the situation.

“We can share a room, that'll be fine. Thank you, Shannon. It’s good to see you again.”

“Okay. Is there anything you guys might need right away? It’s good to see you too.”

Remy shook his head. “Nah, we should be good. Thank you though.”

“Alright then but if anything comes to mind let me know okay?”

“Will do.”

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

Tag List: @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @iamwarrenspeace​ @marvel-imagines-yes-please​ @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification​ @thejemersoninferno​ @rda1989​ @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @bubblyanarocks3​​ @igiveupicantthinkofausername​​ @kaliforniacoastalteens​ @feelmyroarrrr​​ @kaelingoat-blog​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​ @damalseer​​ @heyitscam99​​ @yknott81​​ @sorryimacrapwriter​​ @glitterquadricorn​​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​​ @alyssaj23​​ @sea040561​​ @princess76179​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sarahp879​​ @malfoysqueen14​​ @ellallheart​​ @breezy1415​​ @marvelmayo​​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles​ @marvelloushamilton @paintballkid711​

Loki: @lostinspace33​​ @ultrarebelheart​​ @lenawiinchester​​ @esoltis280​​ @tngrayson​​ @wangdeasang​​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​​

UC: @lokis-high-priestess​

[prune-life]

Patience, baby (Samuel Drake x Reader) One-shot

Please read the A/N so you won't be confused, thank you!

Tagging: thank you so so much @missdictatorme for wanting to be tagged in this monstrosity of an attempt of a fanfic

Warnings: Nothing, but the reader has a moment (But, Sammy to the rescue! (Yay!))

A/N: Okay, where to begin? lmao I initially wanted this to be a 1920s AU but it got mixed in with a lot of my ideas so, just take it with a grain of that 100 years old, 20s-70s salt. All the flapper slang will be under the fanfic! Also hi hello hi this is my first time writing a Sam fic and I was disappointed when reading this crap, but I do hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless haha. Thank you for reading! (Also, Sully is a bartender, hope you like it!) Also, also, sorry for any grammatical errors!

✧*。 ✧*。

A suggestive tone picked up when you entered the many familiar rooms within the of yore building. It was no grand, simply striding between the many alleys and rat holes which imitated a classic neighbourhood, including the rats within - the people - giving it an excellent vibe of life and long driven days with thrill and fun.

Despite the early-late chatter and noises that eluded out of the nifty house, it never ceased its lively, but overly relaxing atmospheres.

That is, after all, what you came for.

Artie Shaw's clarinet waltzed, his music coming out of a crooky gramophone near the corner of the counter, where stood the man that you’ve been meeting almost the whole week until now, this glamorous week being more than welcoming to the many ideas and opportunities you’ve been met with. Today was, to your own anticipation, hopefully the same day as the others have been.

“Hell-o, darling. When did you get here?” the hair greying man greeted out of nowhere once you stood infront of his wooden counter, a cigar hanging from the side of his mouth, his frame sporting a white button-up, complimented by a typical black vest with - what appeared to be under the everlasting, golden dim of light – an embroidered rose with a story tale red down the sides of his torso.

His grim hands worked themselves on a glimmering piece of glass, which even from your own position, smelled of the nectar called alcohol.

“Just now, all these nights have me feeling like a lonely dud.” You sighed, slumping your shoulders, the black, thick coat which kept you warm throughout all these nights revealing a white fuzz from the inside. You slipped it off to the crook of your elbow and reached the stool you’ve placed yourself yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. “What about you, Victor? Still have that cuddle-cootie slat biting on your ankles?”

Sully stopped in his tracks, rising an eyebrow at you curiously, before exhaling, a smile tugging on the corners of his smoky lips. He set down the freshly washed and wiped glass infront of you and turned himself around, reaching for the drink of runny rum, which had the nickname of your 'usual'.

“I believe they had a wonderful... Night. Together.” His gruff voice directed towards you, and he tilted the bottle forward. "Elena is quite the catch, Nate's doing well for himself."

You put your palm onto the ring of the cup, giving him a subtle smile, and he halted.

“Not today.”

Sullivan’s arm spread wide and he slightly bowed, turning around, setting the glass up on its mighty spot, “What will it be, then?”

“Just juice will do,” you whispered, looking around the bar, before giving him a twinkling wink, “only for tonight.”

You continued after he popped open a boring bottle of fruit juice, setting it infront of you like it’s the holy essence itself.

“I’d think that Elena would know better than to... Get it on with a forty-niner,” you took a short sip from the bottle, quickly putting it down, “no offense.”

“Don’t say that to me,” he chuckled, “feathers is much obliged, they might've had a couple too many drinks than was planned,” Sullivan sent you an amiable grin, before you turned around and stood on your feet.

“Going to test your skill on billiards?” he questioned from behind you, tapping his finger on the side of the juice jar.

“As if I ever will,” you smiled back at him from behind your naked shoulder, the pearl necklace hugging your neck tight shifting, “I’d much rather keep it calm this time, had a stressful day.”

“Want to talk about it?” Sully offered.

“Nah, I’m alright,” you sighed, but looked forward and began step-stepping away form the busy man.

Victor exclaimed after you through the loud musica, “No hesitation to talk to me, sugar!”

You smiled to yourself.

I know.

✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。

A tiny tinkle rung above your head, your shoulders immediately getting the breeze of cold air from the closest window, hair bobbing with the silent wind. Music played, this time in a hum, the people around the table eager and keen, some of them hanging by big cushioned seats under a light that shined in the middle of the pool table, as above, so below, a glass visible inside it, staring almost trimmed back at you with it’s shiny reflection.

The place was a brown green aesthetic, with alcohol and cigarettes flaring up your nostrils, wafting through the air like a swarm of bees. The people were lucky there was a window.

“Hey, dude look at you making a spiffy!” an arm swung over your bare shoulders, the warmth creating a sudden, harsh sensation.

“Hey, Chlo,” you snickered at the drunk girl, her ponytail swimming around from behind her neck as always. Her shimmy moving ignited your alert, her stumbling more than foreign to her usual self.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ve seen some keen molls around gin mills- Jesus,” Chloe followed, before Harry stood up infront of the two of you.

“She’s... wasted,” you laughed gently, grabbing her arm and hoisting her arm up yourself, her legs regaining their balance.

Harry nodded in return, crossing his arms over his chest with a soft, inaudible sigh that you only caught by a grumble.

“Bad day?” you asked, pointing to the girl.

“Bad day,” He nodded, “we all have them.” He continued, chuckling, grabbing the girl by her armpits and quickly striding with her to the closest, unoccupied cushion that could work as her own throne.

You shook your head at the girl, eyes trailing around the pool game.

The silent group of people that orbited the room were engaged in touchy-feely kisser conversations, and you felt a sudden feeling of loneliness run over you.

You decided to pack your loneliness out on the club of crickets that played out by the dumpsters from behind the bar's doors.

Together with the unboxing of your halfway empty cigarette box, the everlasting, sickening strawberry scent piled in a round swiftly sticking onto you and your clothing. Your run down, 20s lighter flickered your cigarette on and you took the deepest breath you have all day.

Alone with your thoughts, finally being able to breathe, your back goosed up from the cold, accomodating with the change of icy temperature. And you enjoyed it. To an extent, it brought you an unfamiliar feeling of serenity.

In this hectic world, it was hard to find this one feeling. Except it was there, for a split second, growing and manifesting into euphoric silence.

Tears suddenly welled up in your eyes, and you took another drag of your cigarette, your exhalation a shaky breath.

Warmth spread on your cold shoulders, and the moment you didn’t budge, a sweet, honeyed voice whispered in your ear.

“’vening, princess,” rough hand slithered their way around your shoulders, gently ringing themselves around you, a subtle contact of the person’s lips sitting atop of your exposed shoulder.

You slightly smiled and blinked the tears away, tilting your head to the side to give better access.

Chapped lips enveloped your skin in tender butterfly kisses, and whilst your bad mood didn’t exactly falter, you felt a strand bit better just because of his presence.

“Hey... Sam, where have you been?” you breathed out when his mouth moved to your jaw and began rubbing his cheek against your own, hugging your waist from behind, front lingering on your back for deeper contact. The warmth of his opened button up warmed up your whole spine.

“Funny story. For another time,” he chuckled slightly, the scarred skin of his temples sitting under your jaw, his hair tickling your side gently, “where have you been?” he asked softly.

You inhaled sharply, but didn’t budge, holding the breath for a little longer, eyes focusing on the lamps of the back alley. They flickered and peppered the scene with a nice glow, and your eyes adjusted only to a fraction of the flashing lights.

Sam suddenly took hold of your wrist and brought the cigarette hanging loosely between your fingers to his face.

Snapping out of the brief trance, your head turned to his side, and your breath hitched in your throat when you tried to take another, without exhaling.

The handsome man stared into your eyes, before he took a slight drag out of the cigarette, smoke slipping past his ever chapped lips upon taking it out.

Just then did you force the breath out.

“What’s on your mind, dove?” he took the cigarette in his other hand and raised his other one to caress the other side of your face with his knuckles.

“There’s alot of things on my mind,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a split second, letting your cheek press onto his knuckles, his bruised skin inching closer into the plush.

Sam remained quiet, straightening up, and your eyes snapped open at his movement.

“Let’s go for a ride.” He said, slipping the cigarette into his mouth, hopping off the stairs, grabbing your hand.

You raised your eyebrows, but smiled slowly and pushed your coat up, reaching your hand out, your fingers intertwining into his.

“Where to?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” his eyes lingered on yours.

You took a step forward, “Alright.”

✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。

The wind splashed into your face like cold water, each and every single bump available on the road making Sam’s motorcycle jump up and down. The green and yellow hue that blended in with the night created a soothing vibe, and you couldn’t help it when your voice chimed out in an exaggerated yell of excitement the more Sam sped up.

Sam was a good driver, especially on motorcycles, so you trusted him with his skills to not crash the two of you into a nearby dump.

The screeching of tires suddenly stopped your voice, and you fed your sight to the beauty of reflections within a far sea that stretched out into the unknown over its width.

The many shades of purples, blues, greens, yellows and even pinks created a translucent shade which screamed in your face.

“Wow..” you breathed out, stepping off the vehicle, your low heeled t-straps clicking along your speedwalk to the metal fence separating you from the ocean.

You heard Sam’s steps behind you, their sound coming closer and closer, before he was right beside you, his hand flying to your own, fingers slithering their way between yours.

“Do you.. you like it?” he stammered out, his voice a soft snickery, eyes watching your every move.

“Do-do I like it?” you whispered, the cold catching onto you slowly, “Sam, it’s... Beautiful,” you giggled, tapping the fence. “But cold.”

He let out a breathless chuckle, standing closer to your frame, his finger curling under your chin, “Sure is.. look at you, going all shaky on me?”

Your knees slightly buckled and you pursed your lips in embarrassment, gaze flowing down to the waters.

Sam’s finger tilted your head back to face him, your eyes locking onto his shining, hazel ones once more.

Your teeth gently dug into your bottom lip, the plump skin creating a sudden pillow for your ever growing nervousness. His warm fingers spread under either side of your jaw, and before any of you could speak a word, your lips were seduced by his in a slow, starting kiss, your hands trailing up his chest, to the crook of his neck, where you ringed the exposed flesh of it in a slow, lustful motion.

His chest rumbled in a groan when your fingers dug into his scalp, and you tugged back. The tip of your tongue spread on his bottom lip, and he much obliged in twirling his own over yours, slowly and steadily, gaining control over your pace.

The cold pipe holding the fence in place pressed against you, and the coat which provided enough warmth for the time being of your heated moment, turned into pudge, sliding down your shoulders, far off your elbows and fell on the ground, the length now shocking your skin through your thin gown, the frozen material hissing on your lower back.

You squeaked and jumped, Sam holding your hips in place so you wouldn’t fall over, your arms tightening around his neck, lip slightly bruised red from the gentle nibbling he’s been giving you.

“You okay?” he asked, his lips quivering in a held back laughter.

“Oh, oh yeah, yup,” you cleared your throat, reaching down for the coat, putting it over your shoulders hastily, “absolute dandy, swell.”

You looked up at him through a pout, I ruined the moment, what a way to go..

Sam sucked in his lips and licked them, tilting his head and coming down to your height, giving you a quick, breathless kiss, before scooping you up, his strong arms ringing under your armpits.

He took you like a ragdoll, hanging you to his full height, walking towards the motorcycle.

“Well, doll, seems like the clock’s ticking and we’ve got a bit more time to go,” he said in a sing-song voice, plopping you down on the back seat, your form emitting a gentle huff, “and I know just the right way to make you mine throughout all of it,” he sent you a kiss on the cheek, hand on your shoulder, a slight smirk candying his handsome face.

You pursed your lips into a thin line and looked up at him in anticipation, eyebrows rised whilst awaiting his proposal, which you would without hesitation, accept.

“How is that?” you slowly asked, letting a small smile appear.

“With drinks, of course,” he bowed down to you, giving you a smooch on the lips hastily, before he sat on the motorcycle.

You slumped behind Sam in disappointment, but continued on slipping your arms through your clothes nonetheless, giving him your soft, sad puppy eyes that bore into his back.

Sam gave you a side look, before turning around fully, a finger rising up to under your chin.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” His slow whisper forced your breath to hitch, goosebumps running up your arms surprisingly, and before you could respond, the motorcycle worked more as a stimulation to your growing nerves than you could’ve expressed to him.

The rest of the night bugged your mind, your eyes always flickering to the clock, counting minutes with Sam only giving in his mischief through those sinful, hazel eyes, the message in them always demanding to you, 'Patience, baby.'

✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。

Dud - A wallflower

Forty-niner - A man who is prospecting for a rich wife

Slat - Young man

Cuddle-cootie - Young man who takes a girl for a ride on a bus

Feathers - Small talk; light conversation

Spiffy - Elegant appearance

"I've seen some keen molls around gin mills-"

Keen - Attractive or appealing

Moll - A gangster's girl

Gin Mill - A bar