#it is HEARTBREAKING to find a fic i want to read only to see the entire thing written like that

[strangenscary]

AUTHORS AND WRITERS OF TUMBLR

! this font is not accessible !

i’ve seen a lot of fics posted on this site using this tiny font.

within settings on your phone and tumblr you can change the font size in the app, which makes it more accessible for disabled folks who have a hard time reading (like myself) however, the settings do not work on mobile for this tiny font

i sincerely BEG of you please do not post your ENTIRE fic in this font. you are alienating readers and actively making your art inaccessible.

[saeshiraw]

tired girl hours i’m just ranting bcos i don’t have enough time to cry

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: past wanda maximoff x fem!reader / present natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: When you see Wanda again after the secret relationship you shared during your college years, you realize the lasting impact she had on you. Haunted by flashbacks of your time together, you struggle to reconcile the memory of the Wanda you once knew with the woman she has become a decade later.

content warnings: angst, homophobia, a few homophobic slurs, internalized homophobia, heartbreak and grief, some smut, tragedy

word count: 7.1k+

Masterlist

A/N: This is heavily inspired by the song Us. By Gracie Abrams ft. Taylor Swift. I would recommend listening to it simply because it is a masterpiece and the foundation of this fic.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The Secret of Us

“Babe, are you ready?” 

Green eyes peek around the doorframe, delicate fingers working a dangling diamond studded earring through a slightly reddened ear. There’s a gentle smile on Natasha’s face, a strand escaping her perfectly curled hair and falling somewhat in front of her face. It brushes softly against her cheek, a sharp exhale moving it as a wince appears on her face. 

“Here, let me,” you say, curling a single finger in her direction. You place your makeup brushes onto the vanity in front of you, your fingers gentle as you pluck the earring from Natasha’s hand. 

It’s a beautiful piece. The golden metal is dainty, yet solid, woven into complex swirls that catch the dying rays of sunshine streaming in from your window. Your hands are careful, threading the earring through her skin like a seamstress, with confidence that comes from years of practice and love woven into each measured touch. 

“Perfect,” you mutter. You both know you’re not just talking about the earring. 

Natasha smirks at you, full of confidence that is only slightly contrasted by the pink flush rising to her cheeks. You laugh slightly, the sound low and full of warmth as you turn back towards the mirror. 

Strong hands rest lightly on your shoulders as Natasha’s fingers firmly rub circles into your skin. You can feel the tight knots give away beneath her ministrations and sigh in relief as you brush highlighter onto the highest point of your cheekbones. Green eyes track your movements lazily, taking you in like it's the first time she’s seeing you. You find it quite romantic and tell her just as much.

“Well,” the bright smile on Natasha’s face shines through the word, “That was my goal, detka.”

A soft shove from you has Natasha’s hands wrapping around your own as she pulls you to your feet. You sway slightly, blinking against the headrush that comes from changing positions too quickly. Arms wrap around your waist as strong as the pull of gravity, unwavering and inevitable. 

“You look beautiful,” Natasha murmurs, her lips brushing yours. 

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” The words flow from your lips easily, the truth of them lying comfortably under your skin, feeling like the steady weight of a cat curled up on your chest. You kiss away any protests, your tongue swiping against hers when she tries to speak. 

“We should go,” Natasha manages to say, the words separated with the firm kisses she places against your lips. “We’re about to run late, and I know you hate it when people are inconsiderate with their timing.”

You nod against her, your hands squeezing her waist gently as you breathe deeply through your nose, unwilling to part your lips from hers. 

“Sweetheart.”

Natasha’s tone is firm, her hand pressed against your sternum as she pushes you away. It's gentle, almost hesitant. You know that if you pressed back against it, she would crumble like a sandcastle at high tide. It's for that very reason that you don’t, not wanting to disrupt her carefully planned evening. 

“Lead the way, my love.”

—

You find yourself hanging from Natasha’s arm, feeling every bit like a trophy. Shining, and put on the highest shelf, gazes sliding appreciatively over you before moving on to the next impressive thing. You wonder how long it will be before the dust begins to collect. 

A man, standing close to your wife. His fingers twitch, his eyes glancing dismissively at you. He’s talking just a bit too loud for the short distance between him and Natasha, and you feel a white-hot rage rising before you take in the fake smile plastered across her face. 

It's too wide, showing too many teeth and yet not enough at the same time. Her eyes are sharp, the soft crow’s feet that normally appear at the edges nowhere to be found. The pressure of her fingers against your waist grounds you, leaving you feeling every bit like a rock standing solidly against the crashing waves. 

The man moves on, loses interest. You don’t mind. The memory of him is already floating away, being replaced by the soft look Natasha is sending your way. You feel shiny again, not a speck of dust in sight. 

Dragging your eyes around the room, you let yourself get lost in the sea of bodies. 

Natasha had brought you to some important work event. It was essentially a party, disguised under layers of professionalism in celebration of a multi-million dollar partnership with their rival company. 

There was an undercurrent of tension, being slowly filtered into a sort of understanding and grudging respect. The alcohol probably helped. 

A woman’s laughter rang around the room. The tension in the air shuddered and released its hold slightly. 

You amend your statement. The alcohol definitely helped. 

Lazily, you return your gaze to the room. Natasha is slowly walking you towards the center of the room, leading you with gentle touches at your waist. You feel every bit like a lamb, awkward with growing limbs as it is shepherded into a crowd. 

Bouncing around the room, your eyes take in the multitude of people. Features start to blur together. A pointed nose, blue eyes almost hidden under thick eyeliner, shimmering dresses that catch the light and make your head spin.

Your eyes catch on brunette hair. Soft, flowing like a calm river on a warm summer's day. 

Startling slightly, you blink, a memory dredging its way to the front of your brain like molten lava, slow and inevitable. 

Brunette hair, falling effortlessly over strong shoulders. The scent of vanilla washing over you and enveloping you like a well-known embrace. Green eyes sparkling down at you as soft lips move. You focus, dragging your eyes away from the perfectly manicured nails softly brushing against your desk. 

“Mind if I sit here?” 

A feeble shake of your head, and rapid blinking as you attempt to return the moisture lost to wide-eyed staring back into your eyes. 

She’s beautiful. 

Her words are kind, a small smile seemingly locked into place on her lips as she regards you. Green eyes roam your face, lingering around your lips for just a second too long.

“I’m Wanda.”

The memory slams into your skull, reverberating painfully around as you feel an age-old, nearly forgotten crack in your heart reopen. It takes your breath away, the weight in your chest feeling like a paperweight, settling down on the last few pages of a story full of loss and anguish. 

Natasha’s speaking to someone, her raspy voice filtering through your ears. It’s nothing like the cadence of melted butter you still sometimes hear in your dreams. It's different, better. You wonder when the lies will morph into a semblance of truth. 

You take a deep breath, letting those thoughts slide back to where they belong. In the back of your mind, locked away and left to be forgotten. It wouldn’t do you any good to dwell on the past, with its looming, crumbling chess pieces that dance around you in a game that you don’t quite understand the rules of. 

“Ah, fuck.” Comes Natasha’s voice, the words mumbled directly in your ear.��

You twist your head, shaking it free of cobwebs sticky with memory as you take in your wife. Her eyes are locked on something across the room, the faint furrow of her brows the only sign of displeasure etched on her face. Her lips are moving, mumbling something about an important blah blah man blah blah, rich and influential at her rival company blah blah…

Smiling slightly, you hide your amusement with practiced ease as you turn your gaze towards the man, no, a couple heading your way. Your eyes barely register the neatly parted blonde hair of a tall man, his eyes locked on Natasha with a calculating sort of look in them before your eyes slide over to the woman on his arm.

Fuck, indeed. 

Your heartbeat rushes through your ears, a dull ringing cascading through them as you feel your breath catch. Everything has gone numb, or cold, or tingly. You’re not really sure. Everything is too much and the room is too hot even as goosebumps rise on the surface of your exposed flesh. You suddenly see yourself in a third-person view, your mind projecting outside your body as you go rigid at the sight of her.

Wanda Maximoff. 

Green eyes, brighter and lighter than the ones you stared lovingly into at the altar. Her gaze flickers over to you, not fully meeting your eyes, a forced sort of dissonance playing out briefly on those perfect features before she focuses on Natasha.  

Another memory slams into you, rising unbidden from the depths of your mind before you can stop it. 

Soft laughter, echoing around the room before it's absorbed by the four walls surrounding you. Green eyes, smiling at you before returning their focus to the pen and paper in front of her. 

Wanda writes something down, your eyes tracing the elegant script that flowed easily from her fingertips. Something scratches at the back of your mind, a tendril of something fond, warm. It feels like coming home, future impressions of familiarity beginning to take root. 

“Let me see,” you’re saying, moving closer. Your hands reach for the book. No, it's a leather-bound journal. You’d picked them out earlier, after walking to the store with Wanda from your English literature class. 

“No, oh my god,” Wanda was saying, giggles erupting from her as she half-heartedly wrestled the journal away from you. Her hand lands on your knee, her cheeks a little too flushed. It reminds you of the cherry she’d eaten earlier, licking the whipped cream from her milkshake off before smiling and sucking the fruit into her mouth. 

Her hand stills, awkward and stiff for a moment. You don’t comment on it, shifting your body weight to be slightly closer to her. The warmth from her palm spreads through your body like a slow creek, new and small and promising bigger currents down the road. 

“Let me read yours out loud and I’ll let you read mine,” you offer, taking her journal gently and placing yours in her lap.

“It’s just poetry,” the words flow from your lips, but you know it’s more than that. It’s the very contents of your soul, laid bare for her to see, wrapped under layers of grammar and careful wording. It’s a confession, it’s a sin, it’s something twisting and beautiful and as graceless as a newborn foal. Her eyes meet yours, your thoughts reflected back at you as her fingers twitch slightly on your knee. 

Wanda’s hand takes your journal, those green eyes skimming the words as her lips move silently.

You don’t look away, you can’t look away. Her hair is falling over her shoulder, as delicate and soft as the words written before you. There’s a palpable tension in the air, low and thumping like a familiar heartbeat. 

Green eyes, flickering back to you. Something behind them that you can’t interpret. You feel like she can see your every thought, the very contents of your being laid out before her as she analyzes each individual piece. It’s frightening and it’s intoxicating, and you look away. 

You’re reading her words now, the sentences flowing and mashing together in your mind as you pluck the strings of her mind with your careful hands. It’s beautiful and well-written, layered with so many truths and lies that you can’t begin to interpret the true meaning of her sentences. 

Something tingles at the base of your skull, warm and light as it blossoms through your head. Understanding. Or, the semblance of it. 

You look up. Light green eyes stare back into yours. They’re captivating, and you wonder if they ever left. If she watched you the same way you did her, attempting to unravel her very being through carefully constructed lines and flowing script and words layered with meaning. 

Those green eyes have the power to shatter you. You pick up your pen. 

“So what is it that you do?” The man is speaking. 

Your mind crashes back into the present, another hairline fracture appearing on the surface of your heart. You can practically feel it, the torment running deeper than the illusion the thin crack offers. It’s bone-aching, and you suddenly feel exhausted. 

“I’m a copywriter,” Natasha answers, sounding casual. You can sense the clipped tone and undercurrent of frustration, and your hand gently traces circles against her wrist. “I graduated with a degree in English Literature.”

“Ah,” the man says, sounding every bit as pretentious as he looks. “My wife got a degree in that as well.”

Another crack, splintering into you. Your eyes flick down, catching the ring on Wanda’s finger. It’s shining and big, the diamonds glittering back at you, the mockery of it seeping into your soul. The meaning of it is every bit as surface level as what you assume Wanda’s feelings for this man are. You know better, she had told you just as much. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever love a man in the way I’m meant to.” 

You don’t have to ask what she means. You don’t respond, a gentle sigh escaping you as the weight of her head rests solidly on your shoulder. The clock on your nightstand blinks back at you, the numbers twinkling in the early morning. Pens and paper and journals are strewn around you, a poetry book facedown in your lap. Your voice had grown too tired from reading, but neither of you seemed to mind the comfortable silence stretching around the room.

Until now.

“I know,” you say. There are not many words you can speak.

It's simple. That’s a lie. It’s not, it’s complicated and it's painful and there’s nothing you can do to take that away from her. You wish you could. You would do anything to let Wanda’s soul have respite in your presence, to be unburdened from thoughts of sin and duty, to be able to finally breathe properly. 

Soft fingers find your hand, tangling with your fingers almost hesitantly. Your palm slides easily against hers, and you swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands fit like a jigsaw puzzle, feeling like the final piece as it clicks into place. Confusion and frustration sliding away as the picture finally makes sense. 

“Poetry feels like prayer.” Wanda’s voice is quiet, and you know what she means. It feels holy, even with the words only spoken in the sublunary space of your dorm room. Her head twists on your shoulder, and you feel your gaze drawn to her like the inevitable magnetic pull of the earth. Her green eyes peer up at you. “Will you pray with me?” 

Picking up the poetry book in your lap, you begin reading. Your thumb runs over the pages. Staring at the words in front of you, you wonder why they’re blurry. You realize later, after Wanda had fallen asleep from being lulled into comfort by your voice, that it had been unshed tears. 

You let them fall.

“Yes,” Wanda is saying, and her voice is exactly the same as you’d remembered. She’s speaking, saying something about the university she’d attended and how she got her degree. The only thing you can focus on is the familiar lilt of her words, the smooth cadence you’ve memorized and seared into your brain. 

It’s painful, but you can’t take your eyes off of her. Natasha’s hand moves slightly against your waist, and you blink. The man next to Wanda has his arms almost possessively around her shoulders, his hawkish eyes watching you. 

You look away. 

“Oh, you and my wife went to the same University,” Natasha says, trying to be helpful. You don’t appreciate it. Her words are genuine, but the statement falls short, a beat of awkward silence stretching into an eternity as you try to respond. What could you even say?

Yes. We did. I fell in love with the confident, full-of-life brunette who looked at me like I hung the moon, and I looked at her like she painted the stars just to give the moon some company. I loved her as easy as breathing, and now my lungs never feel full enough, my breaths labored and weighted with the words of love I breathed into her ear that I can’t take back, won’t take back. 

Refuse to take back. 

“We must have missed each other,” Wanda says, her eyes flashing in your direction, but not fully meeting yours. “It’s a big school.”

A polite smile plasters itself onto your face, too small and stiff to be sincere. Your heart clenches painfully, a small part of your mind begging Wanda to meet your eyes. God, it feels just like when you were at University. 

Her husband’s fingers tighten slightly around her shoulder, pulling her further into his side. You wonder if Wanda feels like she’s suffocating yet. You hope not, you want her to breathe. To fill her lungs with light and hope and passion and… not whatever this is.

Another memory, sludging through your mind like a heavy foot through quicksand. 

You don’t talk to Wanda much outside of class and the late-night poetry readings in your dorm. She blames it on her busy social life, being in a sorority is apparently no joke. You’ve learned to keep your head down when you see her in public, her eyes always lingering near you, but never fully meeting yours, too focused on the sorority sisters that always seem to surround her. Appearances are everything to her, you know that. 

But god, it hurts. 

It still doesn’t cut quite as deep as the weekend her parents came to visit. 

Wanda had grown up the daughter of a pastor, a well-spoken man with a quiet, hidden-in-the-shadows wife. You’d watched from afar, noticing the small glances her mother would send her way, and the nervous twitching of her fingers as she adjusted Wanda's collar, or brushed a piece of invisible lint from her daughter's skirt. 

Per usual, Wanda was nothing short of perfect. Her hair was perfectly curled, laying gently over her shoulders as the brunette strands glowed in the sunlight. She’d done her makeup just subtle enough to perfect her already dainty features, but not enough to rouse suspicion that she was promiscuous. 

You’d watched her do her makeup many times, her hands perfecting the art. You wondered how much of her father’s influence and mother’s worry controlled the easy flick of her brush as it spread a light blush across her cheeks. 

Tracing your gaze down her form, you glance back to the book in front of you. A poem glared up at you, the words swimming off the page as you remember the subtle curve of Wanda’s spine, her head bowed slightly as her father spoke into her ear. 

Wanda was full of life, shining brightly and standing out amongst the rest of the population at this university. Or perhaps that was simply your own observation, after all, your entire waking moments were consumed by thoughts of her. 

The point is, she wasn’t… docile. Or submissive, or meek like her posture suggests when her father lays a hand on her shoulder. You can’t tell if he’s gripping his fingers tightly or gently around her, but either way, Wanda doesn’t make a move to remove his hand. 

She’s nodding, her head turning towards him. You can see her smiling easily at him, saying something back. 

His hand returns to his side, and you hope that you imagine the slope of her mother’s shoulders relaxing. The way her fingers twitch towards her daughter, wanting to replace the feeling of his hand against her skin, but choosing to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear instead. Always deflecting her true intentions.

Wanda’s face turns towards her mother. You see the momentary look that passes between them, but you’re unable to interpret it from across the quad. The moment passes, and her mother returns her attention back to her husband. Always a faithful, obedient wife. 

When Wanda and her parents pass by the table you’re seated at, she doesn’t spare you a second glance. Her green eyes are focused on some unimportant thing in the distance, her father’s lips moving near her ear again. You silently plead with her to look your way, to take solace in the silent comfort you can provide. 

Her green eyes don’t meet yours. You feel a crack appear on your heart, and you swallow harshly as you stare blankly at the poetry in front of you. Shoving the crack down where you’ve displaced all the other ones, you begin to read. 

The poem is a romantic one. Full of yearning and hope and unbridled passion. The only thing you can think about is how incredibly tragic it seems. 

Natasha’s thumb is slowly moving, caressing your hip as she holds you loosely by her side. Not possessive, but not without care either. You’re grateful for the touch, and focus on it as Wanda’s husband continues to talk about… what is he talking about?

You don’t really care. 

The version of Wanda that you knew and the woman you see in front of you clash in your mind, splintering your thoughts. You’re also aware of your wife beside you, and guilt creeps into your heart. 

You chose Natasha. You’re happy with her, you stood across from her and declared your love and promised her that you would love her until the end of time. You intend to stand by that, to uphold your promise. Imagining a future without her seems impossible. 

But you’d also imagined a future with Wanda once. It didn’t seem right to just ignore that. And it was impossible to keep the memories at bay. Not when she was standing before you for the first time in ten fucking years, with her perfect hair and her natural looking makeup and her light green eyes and the scent of vanilla washing over you and and and-

Breathing in, feeling the comforting scent of vanilla enveloping you in the strong embrace of a familiar lover. Wanda’s hair just beneath your nose, the silky strands brushing against your cheek and chin as you place a gentle kiss on her head. 

Her arms are wrapped around you, her breaths even. You aren’t asleep, but you let her think that you are. It's easier for her to be herself when she thinks nobody is watching. Her fingers slowly dance along the exposed skin of your stomach, softly tracing nonsensical patterns against you as you feel your heart pound steadily. 

A poetry book rests at your side, forgotten in the favor of holding her in your arms. You understand what all the poets mean, with their suffering and their longing written painstakingly on pages of crinkled paper beneath their ink-stained hands, as you hold Wanda gently against you. This moment feels too precious, too raw to ever be put into words, to write down for the world to see. 

No, you’d much rather keep this moment pure and untouched, resting in your heart alongside the inevitability of Wanda Maximoff. 

You can feel her in your soul. Or rather, maybe it’s your soul that’s bleeding and filling the space between you two. You hope that it is mixing with Wanda’s, filling the painful parts of her that she pushes down and cushioning them with warmth. Is it too much to hope that she’ll carry a part of you with her forever? Is it selfish to take the willing parts of her soul that bleed into yours and keep them there until they’re so ingrained in the fiber of your being that you would lose yourself if she took it back?

Maybe that's the true definition of love. 

Natasha's hand grips you tightly, her fingers tense around your hip. Her eyes are locked on Wanda’s husband, his drawling voice grating your nerves. You risk a glance at Wanda, recognizing her blank look at the ground for what it is. Escape. 

She used to tell you about the places she’d go inside her mind when life got to be too much for her. It sounded peaceful. She could be whoever she wanted inside her own head, without the pressure of her father or the quiet concern of her mother and the encompassing guilt that she was never making the right choices. You hope she's there right now, and return your gaze towards her husband. 

“I mean,” Her husband's eyes are sharp, glinting dangerously at your wife. “It’s so nice that they allow so many… diverse individuals to work with your company.” 

His eyes travel down her body before flicking over to you briefly. 

“Is it hard to keep your lifestyle and work life separate?” he asks, and your blood boils. You see Wanda’s head lower further. “I imagine it's quite difficult to relate to your peers, with a secret like that.”

Natasha is seconds away from exploding, tearing him down with sharp words and securing her own termination in the same breath. 

You find your voice, the quiet strength of your words surprising you. “I’ve been out and proud since I was in high school. I’ve never been ashamed of who I am. And neither is my wife.”

Wanda’s eyes cut sharply over to you, that specific shade of light green filling your vision. 

“Why the fuck would you give this to me if you didn’t want me to interpret it that way?” You’re not yelling, you never would. Not at her. Never at Wanda. But you can feel the frustration leaking into each syllable, and you hate the way that Wanda’s shoulders seem to hunch in on themselves. 

“I never meant for you to…” Wanda can’t continue, her eyes locked on the poetry book you’re clutching between your fingers. 

“You never meant for me to fall in love with you?” 

A flinch, green eyes staring at the carpet and gentle fingers clenched uselessly over the back of a chair. The words bounce around your dorm room, settling in with a tentative weariness. 

“Why would you give me this poetry book about romance and passion and fighting for love if that’s not what you wanted me to think about you?” you set the book down on your desk, the pages flipping open. You can see the smudged ink of your annotations. That was a flaw of yours, always writing too fast as you try to keep up with the thoughts in your head. 

“That’s not what I mean I-” Wanda’s eyes are locked on the book and you watch her swallow harshly. Her voice is shaky, her head bowed. You hate it, and there’s nothing you can do to make it better. “I can’t love you.”

“You don’t love me?”

“That’s not what I said.” Wanda’s voice is quiet. 

Oh. 

“You don’t understand,” Wanda has unshed tears in her eyes. You want to wipe them away, your fingers twitching, unsure if you’re allowed to anymore. “My family means everything to me.”

Oh.

The weight of tragedy settles in, burying itself deep within your bones and wrapping around your heart and squeezing. All of the cracks you’d smothered appear at once, splintering and creating new fractures with each labored pump of poisonous blood coursing through your body. 

You finally understand what the poets mean. The metaphors and desperation, the weight of grief and longing and the way it sticks to your very soul like a parasite that you keep feeding and nurturing because the pain of forgetting is worse than the crushing travesty of remembering. 

Wanda is talking, and for the first time, you’re not paying attention to her words. She’s saying something about her parents and financial dependence and them cutting her off and all you can hear is that she’s stuck and scared and trying to protect herself and you can’t choose her path for her. 

It’s agony, it’s grief and it’s nothing like what you imagined as you innocently read the words scattered across the pages of your poetry book. It’s so much fucking worse. Wanda’s hand is on the doorknob of your dorm, her vanilla scent already fading from your walls as she looks at you with longing and grief and something devastating hidden and suppressed deep within her soul. You wonder if this will be the last time her green eyes ever look at you with genuine emotion shining through them. 

You wonder if you’ll ever escape the numbing chill of loneliness that settles beneath your skin like an old friend. 

Vision, you’d learned his name at some point during the conversation, seems at a loss for words for the first time since you’ve met him. His face is steadily reddening, the tips of his ears practically scarlet as you watch the hand on Wanda’s shoulder tighten.

“I’ve seen your name credited a lot, you must be very good at what you do.” Wanda’s voice is melodic, her words placating yet genuine. She’s mending the rift, her words an unspoken apology for her husband’s behavior as he stands sullen beside her. 

Natasha smiles and begins speaking.

It’s strange, to see the woman you’re in love with talking with Wanda. There was a time when you thought you’d never find someone who made you feel the way Wanda did. You were convinced that your love would live and die with her. 

Then, you met your wife. 

Natasha was everything you could have ever hoped for. She loved you openly and proudly from the moment she met you. Her commitment to you had never waned, her gestures true and meanings genuine. You’d never trusted somebody more, never felt as comfortable with another person. 

She stood by your side when others did not. She held you when you were sick, and stayed by your side when you were at your lowest. The day that you had married her was the best day of your life, and your vows were nothing short of pure truth. The green eyes that had looked at you from across the altar were vibrant and dark, your love for that shade of green far surpassing the one you’d loved all those years ago. 

So why did it still hurt to think about Wanda?

If you had to choose. Right now, Natasha or Wanda, you knew you’d choose your wife in every lifetime. But that didn’t explain the splintering cracks reappearing on your heart the longer you stayed in Wanda’s presence. 

Music rattles the floor, a plethora of swirling hues surrounding you. Your senses are dulled by the fiery liquor burning within your veins, your brain finally relaxing. 

“Dude, come on don’t just stand there like a weirdo,” Kate pulls you away from the wall, spilling your cup in the process. 

You both look down at it for a moment, before bursting into peals of laughter that leave you clutching her shoulder for support as she bends at the waist. Her dark hair falls neatly over her shoulders, her backward cap holding it in place. 

The music drowns out most of your laughter, but you’re aware of the eyes on both you and Kate as you wipe tears from your eyes. She’s pulling you closer to the DJ, dancing sloppily with you. You can’t bring yourself to care about the people around you. There was one goal tonight, get absolutely sloshed at the local college bars and then pass out on Kate’s couch to forget about the whole thing. 

“Who the fuck let the sloppy, drunk dykes in?”

Kate doesn’t hear the words, but you do. You turn to face the group near you, the liquor making you bold. It’s a bunch of sorority girls, with their skin-tight dresses and judging eyes watching you with caked-on mascara. Your heart drops when you see Wanda standing in the middle of them. 

Your blood runs cold, a surge of sadness and fury sweeping through you. It’s confusing, but most of all, it’s fucking infuriating. 

Behind you, Kate stumbles, her elbow knocking into your side. Your arms wrap around her, keeping her upright as she mumbles an apology in your ear. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Wanda whisper something to one of the girls, their eyes on you and filled with mirthful laughter. 

“You’re right, Wanda,” the girl says, loud enough for the whole group to hear. “These dyke sluts would probably jump on the nearest dick they could find, since nobody else wants to fuck them.”

The blood rushes to your ears, and Kate’s gasp reverberates around your skull. The bar seems quieter than before, and a multitude of eyes are on you and the blonde bitch in front of you is smirking like she just stole your favorite candy and Wanda is laughing and pointedly avoiding eye contact with you but her smile wavers slightly as her eyes grow sad for a split second before she remembers where she is and you’re so fucking mad and it all just seems so goddamn tragic and-

Your fist connects solidly with that stupid, smug smirk that the blonde girl proudly plasters on her face. There are gasps and Kate whooping loudly in your ear and arms wrapped around you and pulling you towards the door and alcohol making your head spin and fuck you’ve never felt more alive. 

Wanda’s eyes finally meet yours. They’re filled with shock, but just before she turns away, you see a sliver of gratitude and the hint of an apology glimmering in their depths. 

Needless to say, both you and Kate are banned from that bar. 

Your wife is laughing. The echoes of mean laughter from Wanda and her sorority sisters fade into the background noise of your brain as you refocus on the conversation. Natasha’s soft chuckles bring a smile to your face before you can stop it, your lips turning up as you look at her. 

She’s effortlessly pretty, her eyes crinkled slightly at the edges even as her gaze flickers warily over to Vision. Her arm is wrapped around your waist, solid yet unrestrictive. 

Wanda’s eyes linger around the fingers that lightly draw circles against your hip. She seems to shake herself, eyes quickly moving back towards safer territory as she focuses on Natasha’s face. You don’t miss the fleeting expression of longing that flits across her face, her appearance seeming soul-crushingly tired for a mere moment before it smooths over in a way that speaks to years of practice. 

You wonder if she’s remembering the same night that rises to the front of your mind. You try to combat it, to stay in the moment. Natasha's fingers squeeze your hips lovingly, and you descend into the memory with bone-deep guilt. 

The concrete is cold beneath you, the wind picking up slightly and threading its way through your hair. You shiver, feeling Wanda adjust her body closer to yours. You’re aware of her heat spreading through you. Her hand fits seamlessly in yours, and you wonder when loving Wanda became as easy and inevitable as breathing. 

“Do you think the poets compared their words to the stars?” Wanda asks.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you say, breathing in her vanilla scent. It’s hard to focus on her words when her body is pressed fully against yours, your left side burning with warmth and something else that you’re almost scared to identify. 

Wanda chuckles, the sound heating your cheeks further. 

“Well,” she pauses. That’s one of the things you love about her, how careful she is with her words. “Do you think they viewed their words, their poems, as unattainable yet beautiful and pure?”

You’re quiet. You can think of something that is also unattainable, pure and completely inevitable. It’s not poetry, and it’s not the glittering stars that take up your vision. She’s lying right beside you, her nose bright red from the wind and a future stretching out ahead of her that she is able to mold into something beautiful and something that is completely her own. If only she had the courage to do so. You hope she does. 

“Of course they did. They’re poets,” you respond, and Wanda hums. “Do you feel that way?”

Wanda doesn’t respond, and that’s enough of an answer for you. 

The silence stretches on, but it's comfortable. Wanda is shifting silently, more of her body pressing against you, the wind having died down a while ago, leaving no easy excuses for her leg pressed fully against yours. 

“You wanna know what I think?” Wanda’s voice is quiet, yet firm. 

Turning your head, you look at her. She looks back, her lips mere inches away from yours. You can feel the soft, warm breath escaping her lips and hitting your face as she speaks. 

“I think that you’re like the stars,” Wanda begins, her green eyes sparkling at you. They glance down imperceptibly, almost too quickly for you to catch. You notice, of course you do. “You're incomparable, chemical almost.” 

Wanda trails off, her eyes firmly focused on your lips. You understand, you always do. 

“I can’t tell if you’re a curse or a miracle,” you whisper, feeling Wanda lean in. The tension vibrates palpably between your lips and hers. “But I don’t really care.”

Soft lips collide with yours, a seismic shift that causes your head to spin for a moment. It’s perfect and pure and something bordering on holiness and you find yourself never wanting to leave this moment. Then, Wanda’s lips are moving against yours and the heat inside you is rising and her hands are everywhere and you can’t get enough of her and-

Her moans feel almost reverent, stretching out into the minimal space between you as she arches herself closer to you. Her skin is pressed against yours, warm and alive and feeling every last bit like an all-consuming force that you gladly pull closer. Your fingers slip inside her easily, the feeling of her bringing tears to your eyes. You want to live in this moment forever, with the taste of her on your lips and her thighs impossibly soft around you, her head thrown back as she chants your name like a prayer. 

You’ve never believed in God. But in this moment, you finally know what it truly means to worship. 

A man’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Well, as lovely as it’s been to meet you…” Vision trails off, and Natasha simply raises an eyebrow. 

“Thank you for the wonderful conversation,” Wanda’s smooth words cut in, another unspoken apology and excuse for her husband's behavior. “We should probably be leaving, it’s getting late.”

Green eyes glance at her husband, whether for permission or in reprimand, you can’t tell. Either way, it gets Vision to move, a firm head nod directed towards your wife before he’s striding towards the door, pulling Wanda with him. 

She’s leaving. Again. 

A final memory claws its way to the surface. You know this one. It's a memory that you’ve kept hidden in the deepest part of your brain, in a place full of sticky cobwebs and scarce lighting, meant to be forgotten. 

It’s inevitable.

Wanda is almost at the exit, her husband's hand possessive against the small of her back. It speaks of ownership, of pride. You despise it. It’s nothing like the soft, loving touch of your wife’s hand against your waist.

The turn of a head and soft brunette waves falling gently around delicate, hunched shoulders. Soft skin, glowing slightly in the dim, red lighting of an exit sign. Green eyes, piercing yours in the same manner that they had all those years ago. 

Your breath catches, lodging itself painfully in your throat. Or maybe it's just your chest, and what lies beneath the surface. A heart, with cracks all along the surface, squeezing painfully, the tension, the agony almost too much to bear. 

A single tear slides down your cheek. You hear Natasha murmuring something in your ear, a gentle hand wiping your face dry. 

There’s a mask sliding into place over those perfect features that you’d memorized a decade ago. Green eyes, light in shade, sliding past you as if you’re an insignificant, forgotten trophy on the highest shelf. And then she’s gone, out the door with only the faint scent of vanilla and a permanent memory etched into your mind. 

The cracks splinter, and without warning, shatter completely.

“Pick up, pick up… please just… fucking. Ah, just, goddamnit pick up the fucking phone Wanda.”

You’re drunk, the phone feeling awkward and heavy in your hands. The sound of a dial tone beeping ricochets through your mind, and you clumsily jerk the phone away from your ear.  Blearily, you take in the four previous calls you’ve made to Wanda. 

One more try can’t hurt. Right?

You firmly press your finger against her name, the sound of your phone dialing her number washing over you. The tiny numbers in the corner of your screen read somewhere between one or two in the morning, but you don’t care. All you need is for Wanda to pick up. 

A sound, different from before. You hear quiet breathing on the other side of the line. 

God, you’ve missed that sound. The feeling of her head resting against your shoulder or chest as slow measured breaths fill the four walls of your dorm room. The small puffs of air hitting your skin when she shifted, burying her face in your neck. 

You say as much, the words spilling out of you. You’re not sure if Wanda is listening, but you hope she is. 

“Fuck, I- I just miss you so much. It feels like I’m dying every time I see you, and I can’t take your eyes avoiding mine anymore. I mean,” you hiccup, the sound pathetic even to your own ears. It doesn’t matter. 

“Don’t you miss us?” you say, your voice quiet. The soft breaths on the other end of the line hitch, and you grasp at it. “I miss the flame of what we were, I don’t even really know what we were, but… I miss the small reign we had. Even if it was just in the space of my dorm room. I would go through the pain of you every day if it meant I could be close to you. I-”

You lose the words, the regret pouring through you as quickly as a flooding river. The words can’t escape fast enough. 

“Do you regret us? I know we were a secret, and I was okay with that. I would have done anything, kept anything private, secret even, just to keep you in my life. You know that Wanda.” You draw a shaky breath. You hope that you don’t imagine the same type of breath on the other end of the line. 

“Do you miss it?” You ask, hating the way your voice cracks gently. You hear Wanda’s sharp, soft inhale. “Do you regret the secret of us?”

Click.

---

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato

Dm or comment to be added!

[jksoftii]

☆♡ JUNGKOOK FIC RECS ♡☆

this is a list of my favorite jungkook fics! most of these contain smut so no minors allowed. please show your love to all these amazing authors :) !!

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

SERIES

Birds by @missbickerbocker a f s strangers to lovers au (Doctor!Jungkook x TravelBlogger!Reader)

Summary - In Jungkook's world stability is key. He knows what exactly is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul's ER Unit. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his own ER unit, his stable world starts to shift. — the angst, the sexual tension, everything about this is just perfect!! doctor jk 😭🙌🏻

Gradation by @shina913 a f s bestfriend to lovers au fwb slow burn (Bestfriend!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your wedding day your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from embarrassment and heartbreak, your bestfriend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. — i remember coming back to this fic again and again because the entire storyline in itself was so comforting, everyone around oc was so caring and jungkook especially made my heart burst in this one!

Friday nights and takeout by @ahundredtimesover a f s strangers to friends to lovers (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he — i love love love cute happy endings. there was a lot of scolding eachother but their dynamic itself was just endearing 🤧💖 @ahundredtimesover 's other works are also wonderful! you won't be disappointed checking them out!

Lost Stars by @yoongiofmine a f s strangers to friends to lovers au slow burn (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. — i read this in one sitting because it was so interesting! the twists in this story kept me engaged, i felt like i was in a movie.

Coquet by @shina913 a f s fake dating au strangers to lovers (Escort!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous. — another one by @shina913 because i can't get enough of their writing! the angst, fluff, smut everything was balanced so well. top notch literally. sexy escort jungkook made me get on my knees no joke 🙌🏻🤧

Once You Realize by @kooala a f s friends to lovers idol au (Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader)

Summary - Seeing your friend regularly turned out to be difficult because of your colliding schedules, but seeing him again after a couple of months something about the way you thought about Jungkook seemed to have shifted. If only you wouldn’t have started getting close with someone else before you had realized how you felt about your best friend — this indeed is the cutest falling in love story! it's a slowburn but not overwhelming. sjdhjsjs it's just adorable 🥲

ONESHOTS

In which drabble series by @onlyswan a f s established relationship au (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - this is the cutest collection drabbles of boyfriend jungkook!! i recommend all of the installments, the writing is perfect, it's packed with perfectly illustrated details and vivid emotions and you can feel the love radiate from them 🥹 Art is by far my favorite writer on here 🙌🏻 these are a few of my personal favs from the installments -

in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak f wc: 2.6k

— no because drunk jk is a menace and we all know it. this was so chaotic and fluffy it made me want to scream!!!

in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes f wc: 2.8k

— jungkook with glasses. my weakness. but this was so cute and fluffy! it's his little journey figuring out how to handle his glasses with oc!

in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give a f s wc: 8.3k

— this is actually a angsty one but it shows their ups and downs as a couple and gives more insight into their relationship!

The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts a f s wc: 52.9k strangers to fwb to lovers au (Idol!Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader)

Summary - you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? — this has a LOT of angst, i won't lie i cried a few times reading this too. the character growth in this was just so phenomenonal. i go back a lot to this and read it again and again just to re-live the story. and ofc the smut is an amazing add on toooo 😭🙌🏻

My babysitters a quarterback by @ohpretty-baby a f wc: 30k enemies to lovers high-school au (Quarterback/Babysitter!Jungkook x Cheerleader!Reader)

Summary - after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age. — i love this so much oh my goshhhhh this is one of the fics which will make you laugh and cry at the same time. it's fluffy and their dynamic is absolutely adorable. it's sooooo beautifully written!! :))

Spring will come again by @baepsaesbae a f s wc: 10.9k strangers to lovers au (Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader)

Summary - Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever? — everything in this just feels so warm and comforting and jk is so sweet and so precious in here. there's angst but a very cute happy ending. the writing was so well done and so well articulated!! <333

Safety Net by @pradaksj (TWO-SHOT) a f s enemies to friends to lovers roommates au (Boxer!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. — this is one of my favorite fics ever. it's hilarious and emotional at the same time. both are literally the definition of dumb and dumber 😭 @pradaksj did a lovely job at illustrating their relationship progression. boxer jk just has my entire heart 😵‍💫🙌🏻

Be-Ghoul-Ment by @dokyeomin f wc: 10.1k idiots to lovers university au (Blonde!Jungkook × Reader)

Summary - [beguilement (noun): an entertainment that provokes pleased interest and distracts you from worries and vexations] --- You hate haunted houses more than you’ve ever hated anything. You don’t understand the appeal. But this Halloween, you decide you might hate Kim Taehyung even more. — the cutest fic ever! jk and oc both being a nervous wreck in this was so relatable 😭, and I loved the side friendships with Taehyung and Hobi. It was so sweetly crafted and left me feeling happy inside.

[needfantasticstories]

“Many places I have been

Many sorrows I have seen

But I don't regret

Nor will I forget

All who took that road with me”

-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd

This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end. 

Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.

Thank you.

(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)

This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out. 

The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else. 

It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking. 

A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself. 

It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking. 

Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way. 

It’s about love. Always.

By @toyouhellohowareyou

Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.

I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day. 

But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.

The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.

You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.

The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.

Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.

Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.

Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.

But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.

I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.

And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.

By @sunny-porridge

This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

By @life-in-winter

While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?

This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?

There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.

@needfantasticstories

Artist credit

Legend: @gia-d

Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer

Time: @toonblade

Sky: @noorahqar

Warriors: @whitewinterstar

Wild: @weavingstarlight

Twilight: @bluury2

Wind: @thewitchdoctor39

Four: @lunaopus

Red: @peepthatbish

Blue: @glowingmin

Green: @winterfen

Vio: @waterfallstream

Shadow: @deleetrix

Wolfie: @linkiscool333

Fierce Deity: @awildsilver

Ravio: @lele5429

Malon: @tooner-tastic

Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine

[mrs-weasley-reid]

HUNDRED TWO POINT THREE

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Synopsis: as they say, in sickness and in health, but Aaron Hotchner seems to take sickness too seriously. WARNING: a whole lot of nada (i hope). all fluff. overprotective!aaron (duh). not proofread !!!! Word Count: 912 A/N: THIS IS A REPOST of a req from my sweet, sweet lumi @egdropsoop when i was sick. i had to mourn accidentally deleting the original post. it felt so heart-wrenching. and i couldn't find the draft in my docs for almost a week, so it was another type of panic and heartbreak. this writer is such a dummy sometimes, but i hope rereading the fic in case it pops in your feed isn't so bad

 This week’s case, by far, has been the most difficult you have yet to experience. 

 Besides the buzzing summer heat of Los Angeles and the loud commotion in each corner of the local precinct, not only did you have to bring back sticky sweat and ringing ears, but you also brought back a mind-numbing body temperature of 102.3 degrees.

 With Emily’s driving and Spencer’s constant rambling, by the time you guys arrive at the airport, your body is creaking with chills and joint pain. 

 “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

 You feel Hotch’s hands lay atop yours, prompting your brows to clash and your head to turn to your side where he towered over you. “What? I’m trying to make tea.” You say disorientedly, breathing quite ragged.

 It’s his turn to knit his brows. “Sounds reasonable, but don’t you think your cup has enough hot water?” You follow where he’s looking at your blushing red hand, steaming with heat. “You’re going to burn your hand at that rate.” He adds, lifting his gaze back at you. 

 He reads you for a moment. Your pinkish cheeks, heavy breathing, and disoriented state told him enough to make a deduction. They tell tales that are similar to those of a small Jack Hotchner after a venture in the rain or dry sweat over a fun visit to the park. 

 “You have a fever,” He informs you sternly.

 “No, I don’t.” Your nose crinkles, shaking his hands off yours and straightening up. The simple movement alone brings your head to spin, pushing you against the counter. You close your eyes, “M’kay, maybe I do.”

 Everything seems fuzzy, but you feel Hotch’s gentle hand over the small of your back, and you’re suddenly being led to one of the two couches in the jet, momentarily seeing a pouting Spencer Reid, woken up from his slumber as he mumbles to another seat.

 Hotch wraps his jacket around yours, squatting in front of you. "Honey, why don't you lay down? Get some shuteye." His voice is gentle in your ears. He squeezes your hand in his while the other brushes away loose strands off your burning face.

 “You okay, mama?” Derek turns from his seat, “Want some cocktail with that fun swirly straw you and Penelope love?” He jokes lightly in hopes that humor will lessen the throbbing in your head.

 “It’s not the time for jokes, Morgan. If you’d like to help, maybe stay quiet in your seat.”

 The entire jet shuts up.

 Emily and JJ’s low whispers halt as they shift their gaze from where Hotch blocks Derek’s view. Spencer tries his best to stifle his laugh, but Rossi only shakes his head.

 “She has a fever, Aaron. Not cancer. Let the lady sleep in peace.” Rossi interjects in defense of the team’s eye candy.

 Hotch ignores him, rolling his eyes. He maneuvers back to the kitchenette in search of some cloth and a bucket to fill with tepid water. 

 Derek settles back in his seat with a look of disbelief, “I thought I was dead for a second.” He mutters under his breath. “He’s gone full papa bear mode on her.”

 They watch as Hotch pulls heaven and hell in your favor. He makes tea. Even finds a can of soup from somewhere in the cabinets, wondering why none of them has ever seen that before. He goes back and forth, placing a cloth over your forehead.

 His goal is to get you out of feverish delirium by the time the jet lands back in Quantico. And Hotch is quite the mission-oriented guy.

 "Aaron..." You mumble almost unheard if only everyone isn't eavesdropping.

 "You need something, hon?" He gently blots the cloth over your face. His sleeves are rolled past his elbows, and a rivulet of sweat is over his temple from all the movement he's made in the past ten minutes.

 "Stop fussing and let me sleep, hmm? Go drink some scotch with Dave or something." You shoo him with one hand and steal the cloth from him with the other.

 Hotch shakes his head as if your eyes haven't been shut tight for a while now, prying the cloth off your hand. "Come on, now, sweetheart. I can't just leave you alone." He coos, successfully repossessing the damp fabric.

 It takes a toll on your body when you sit up, yanking the small towel a second time from his grasp, more aggressive this time.

 "Hey, be careful—"

 You raise a hand to shut him up, "Aaron Hotchner. Take a break, or I swear you won't have a bed to sleep in when we get home." You huff, willing your facial muscles to look as intimidating as you possibly can at your state. "And Jack will not side on you. We both know I'm his favorite. So get." You point at Rossi's direction.

 He sighs in defeat, leaving a kiss on the crown of your head. "Fine. But tell me when you need something—"

 "Start walking, Aaron," You shake your head, giving him a stern look.

 The unit chief trudges to the seat next to Rossi, where the older agents offer a glass. Before Hotch can even decline, you voice rings in the jet.

 "You better take that glass."

 He rolls his eyes, but does as you say.

 Everyone fights their will not to burst into laughter, or they just might get pushed off the jet.

hotch masterlist | masterlist

[haetrack]

HOW IT ALL GOES | MASTERLIST

there are millions of love songs in the world. though they all speak of the same thing, they’re not all the same. love can be happy, sad, exciting, or just shown physically. love is different for everyone. there’s a song for every story, for every person who experiences love.

starring: haechan, mark, jaehyun, jaemin, and renjun!

general warnings: fluff, angst, and smut (not all fics will contain smut, so minors be aware!) fics will be tagged with their specific warnings! general yearning, heartbreak, happy and sad endings

note: the fics are not connected to each other! they can be read as stand alone fics but i hope you stay to read them all! synopses and tags might be changed during the writing process!

side note: if you would like to be tagged, please send in an ask or comment on this post!

I. (lucky for you) we’re just friends

best friend!haechan x reader

synopsis: haechan is someone who always gets what he wants. he’s willing to do anything, but now, he realizes, he doesn’t know what to do. will you, his best friend of many years, let him step into your life where he hasn’t before? do you think about him as much as he does you? or will it all slip away, along with all his memories with you. (angst, little fluff)

side a: like a friend - pulp

side b: now playing

II. no clue

one night stand!mark lee x reader

synopsis: when mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, he rushes out to a party. he’s quick to find someone, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. when he sees you laid under him, it clicks that he might just like you, a stranger. he tries looking for you all over campus, wanting to talk to you. how long will it take for you both to meet? do you even want to meet him? (smut, fluff, little angst)

side a: tongues - the frights

side b: now playing

III. your fate, my karma

fwb!jaehyun x reader

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you, more importantly, the friendship he has with you. he can’t help it, not with how you look at him, how you smile, how you feel. it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret. (smut, angst, little fluff)

side a: somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

side b: now playing

IV. can it last forever?

boyfriend!jaemin x reader

synopsis: after many successful dates, jaemin finally asked to be your boyfriend. you were so happy in the beginning, but doubts begin to fill your head. jaemin is a loving boyfriend, but you can’t help but wonder if you deserve him. did you go into this too fast? what if this is all you have? will you be able to make him happy? (fluff, angst, suggestive)

side a: valentine - laufey

side b: flip over?

V. all to myself

acquaintance!renjun x reader

synopsis: renjun hates how all you’ve been doing is talking about another man. usually, he wouldn’t really mind. but now, he realizes the only reason why he hates it is because he likes you. you’re a friend of a friend, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to get closer to you if all you’re thinking about someone else. (fluff, smut)

side a: eastside - daisy

side b: flip over?

a/n: im so excited for this series HOORAY!!! i hope u guys are as excited as i am when i start releasing them :3 i also recommend listening to the songs i put!! the fics were inspired by them and lay out the overall feel i want the fics to have! enjoy reading :p

[imawreck]

His

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Author’s Note: I realize that in most of my fics Thor is the other romantic interest/situationship, but you CANT tell me that man wouldn’t flirt up a storm with a beautiful woman any chance he got. Also, this is my first smutty fic so feedback and comments would be much appreciated! This is on the more explicit side, so please read with caution.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), choking kink, Possessive!Winter Soldier, flashbacks, hair pulling, fingering, metal arm kink, dominant!winter soldier, probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 4,850

Breakups are ugly most of the time, and almost always one sided.

You and Bucky had been apart for at least three months. You’d stopped counting, wanting to forget it and focus on anything else. It was easier that way, to ignore the heartbreak and clutter up your life with other things to do.

Unfortunately, you still lived in the same tower on the same floor, right across from one another. He was constantly around, and no mattered how hard you tried, you just couldn’t avoid him.

It was hell.

And it was only hell because Bucky hardly gave you a good reason for the break up. Sure, you had your arguments. Mostly about his past and how much better he thought you deserved, to which you’d list all the reasons he was wrong. In reality, those weren’t really arguments. It was just Bucky having a low point, which you were more than willing to help him work through. Outside of those moments, you had felt that your relationship with Bucky was near perfect.

So when he had come back from a mission and broke up with you, his only reason being ‘I can’t be with you,’ it’d been a slap to the face. Like someone had shoved a knife in your heart and twisted.

The worst part was that he wouldn’t even allow you the chance to talk to him afterwards. Every time you were in the same room together alone, he’d find every reason not to speak with you.

So, you’d taken the hint and were now trying to figure out a way to move on.

That was made a little easier when a certain God of Thunder made his interest known to you. Thor was sweet, charming, and a little goofy. Not to mention handsome, with his blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

He’d made an effort to woo you not long after you’d parted from Bucky, and you’d informed him that the breakup was hard for you and that you couldn’t really do something new right now. Thor had been surprisingly understanding, and even took to just being friends quite well. Granted, he was still flirty, but he knew where you both stood and was always happy to lend an ear when you needed one.

He turned out to be just the friend you needed.

From the outside looking in, none of the others thought it was ‘just friends,’ especially when Thor would openly show his interest in you. Especially to a certain Super Soldier.

Bucky was painfully aware of what was going on between you and Thor even though he desperately tried not to be.

His super hearing picked up on the soft laughter you and the god would share, on the hushed whispers you’d exchange late over a mug of coffee when you thought everyone was asleep. His every fiber was attuned to you, and he couldn’t help but fixate on your presence.

You were like gravity to him, and he always found himself near you when he knew he should be as far as humanly possible. He saw the little looks you shared when Thor would compliment you, noticed your shy smile when the god would enter the room. He could tell that Thor was winning you over slowly but surely.

He couldn’t fucking stand it.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when he shipped off on the next mission possible.

You worried, your heart still set on loving him, but you tried to pay it little mind. And after a few days, it actually helped. You felt better, found yourself smiling more. You were beginning to move forward.

That was, until the jet was reported missing. Then Bucky was all anyone could talk about in the tower.

Thor tried his best to keep you in the dark about most of what was going on, and it wasn’t hard seeing as you were just a rather good strategist and not a serious Avenger. You were only really included in skimming over preplanned attacks and making sure they hadn’t missed anything critical.

But word still spread, and worry was ever present.

Needless to say, it was very strange when Mr. Stark called you into a private meeting with himself and two other of the elite team.

“Y/N,” He spoke softly in the kind of tone that lets you know that whatever he says next is going to ruin your whole week. “There’s a situation with Barnes.”

You frowned, eyebrows scrunching at him from where you sat at the rather empty end of the long black table. “I’m confused. Bucky and I broke up months ago. Why are you talking to me about it?”

Steve, who you’d befriended while dating his best pal, looked at you with poorly concealed pity from his seat next to Stark. “Because we know he still means a lot to you and that you’re our best hope in this situation.”

That didn’t make you feel better about whatever was going on at all. “What do you mean ‘this situation?’” You eyed them both, before dragging your eyes over to Doctor Banner who hadn’t done much more than stare at you with a concerned expression bordering on panic.

Stark pressed his fingers to his forehead, “Barnes got triggered on his mission and has infiltrated the tower. We have reason to believe he’s after you.”

You gaped at him. That didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important, at least not as important as one of The Avengers. “Me? Why me?”

“We’ve silently shut the building down and we’re working on evacuating the floors without anyone freaking out.” Tony went on, ignoring your questions, “He doesn’t know that we’re aware he’s here, and we’re trying to keep it that way.” Tony motioned towards a monitor, and the image of Bucky popped up on the screen.

Only he was in your room, and he was dragging his fingers over the picture of the two of you that was perched on the nightstand. They way his fingers smoothed over the glass, the slight pinch in his brows as if calculating instead of recalling. It was like he’d never seen it before in his life. Like he had no connection to the image of himself.

It was a picture he had taken, his arm extended and a smile on his face with your lips pressed to his cheek. You had meant to take it down and stuff it in the box under your bed with all the other memories you had hid from sight, but it was just too painful. You needed something to hold onto.

You watched through the screen as he moved around your room, taking note of certain things and taking careful precautions to ensure that anything he moved was set right back in place. It was eerie to watch a man who was once so comfortable in your space tread with so much hesitance. Like it was the first time he’d been in the space all over again.

“Y/N.” It was Steve’s gentle timbre that brought your attention away from the screen this time. He tried to smile, though it was clearly forced. “We need you to lure him down towards the lower levels. We have to get him to a room where we can better contain him. If he finds out we know he’s back and not… him, then he could snap.”

“You want to use me as bait? For the Winter Soldier?” You stared at them both with wide eyes, panic blooming in your chest. “This is insane!”

Steve sighed, “Y/N… Bucky told me about the incident that happened in the beginning of your relationship.”

Your attention zeroed in on the blonde’s words, your breath hitching.

“He told me what could’ve happened… and what didn’t.”

You walked down the corridor of the Stark tower office floor heading back towards your desk from a late night research meeting with a few of your coworkers. You had decided to stay later than the others so that you could collect and organize the information you needed for the meeting with Mr. Stark the following morning. It was very late, and you were tired, the heels you wore had begun to irritate the soles of your feet hours before.

You clutched the files you collected in your arms, heels clicking on the glossy floors and echoing into the dimly lit corridor. So dim that you didn't see the silhouette of the man standing just feet from you until it was too late.

You only saw a flash of silver before the door beside you was torn open and you were roughly shoved inside. Cleaning supplies clattered onto the floor, spilling liquids over your feet as you cried out. A hand clamped over your mouth, and your head hit the wall with a thunk.

Stormy blue eyes stared at you, cold and unfeeling. Eyes you had seen just days before smiling at you and filled with life.

Your lips moved to say his name against the cool metal of his hand, but his grip on your face was nearly bruising. You could only stare back in fear and attempt to press your body further from him.

He didn't speak, only stared at you and kicked the door to the closet shut.

Fear was a living thing in your stomach, writhing as his eyes snaked down to your red heels and back up again. His head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to remember something. But his eyes remained cold and unrelentingly empty. His flesh hand came up to press a finger threateningly to his lips.

‘Quiet.’

You weren't stupid enough to scream, not with the way he was looking at you, with how close he was. When he removed his hand, you did exactly as he wanted. Silence hung in the small closet, suffocating you. Would he kill you? What did he want? Why hadn't he killed you already?

The cool metal of his palm slipped further down, wrapping around your throat and pressing against your thundering pulse. Your head pounded along with it, and a foggy feeling settled over your mind.

But your lungs still filled with air, and you remained aware. The pressure of his hand was ever present, but it was light enough not to cause real damage... Almost like he didn't want to hurt you.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement catching your eyes. His body leaned forward, his nose pressing into your neck and his warm breath hitting your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, and that lick of fear heightened again. He was acting so strangely, and the longer it went on the more unsettling it was.

When he pulled away, there was a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A hunger, and… and recognition.

“Hello, Beloved.”

“We know that he didn’t hurt you, and that he displayed… certain feelings towards you.” Steve’s voice brought you out of the memory, dragging you back to the reality at hand.

The one where he wants you to put yourself smack dab in the path of the Winter Soldier.

“You’re serious about this?” You blink up at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. Level headed as Steve was, you trusted him with your life. But this? This was terrifying and completely unexpected. Ridiculously dangerous.

“It’s the only nonviolent way we can think of. And we’re almost certain there’s no high risk for you.” Steve tried to give you a reassuring smile, tried to hide the hint of unease that shone in his tense shoulders.

“You’ve all lost your mind.” You laugh, sighing and raising your chin. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Apparently, so had you.

You stared at the metal doors of the elevator, your heart pounding with each toll of the floors passing. This was probably—no, was— the riskiest thing you’d ever done in your life. You trusted Steve and Mr. Stark, but your brain was trained to find the flaws in plans like this. And so many things could go wrong.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said calmly into your ear, startling you. You’d forgotten they’d given you the earpiece. “I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll guide you through the compound and make sure you stay out of danger.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if they could see you.

“Bucky is leaving your room. We’re going to drop you off in the commons area of your floor. All you have to do is make some noise and then head for the stairwell. Just listen to me, and I’ll get you through this.” Steve sounded so confident in your ear, but it did little to soothe the nerves.

The elevator leveled out, and the doors quietly opened. The large living room opened up before you, unnervingly bright and welcoming despite the danger you knew lurked just down the hall. You stepped out onto the carpet, walking towards the kitchen. Your palms sweat, heart pounding, as you made your way up to the cabinets.

You just had to make some noise. Easy, right?

But your body wouldn’t move.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice called in your ear again, gently coaxing you from where he watched the cameras. “Make some noise, and then head for the stairs.”

You swallowed, nodding again, and reached with shaky hands towards the cabinet. You grabbed a bowl, and hesitantly set it down on the granite counter. The echoing pok of the ceramic felt too loud in your ears, like a gunshot.

“Good, now move quickly. He’s just down the hall headed your way.”

The words sent a chill down your spine… and something else followed. Something you’d never felt before.

You headed towards the stairs, but your feet felt like lead weights. Like you couldn’t move fast enough even though you knew you were going as fast as you could.

But you could hear the faintest scuff of boots coming behind you and the sound sent your heart into a frenzy.

You raced down the stairs, tripping a few times before righting yourself and continuing your decent down towards the lower levels. Your floor was four levels up from ground level, which meant you had six floors in total to descend before you could get to the containment floor.

Six flights of stairs being chased by The Winter Soldier. A superhuman man who was definitely faster than you, and probably wanted to do something terrible to you. Like a wolf hunting a sheep.

Oh God.

The thought only served to spur the panic rising in you. You kicked up your speed when the door slammed behind you, footsteps pounding after you as the dark silhouette of Bucky Barnes rounded the stairs two flights above.

He took the stairs four at a time, his long legs swallowing up the distance between you. The panic clawed its way up your throat in a strangled cry, and the sound just seemed to quicken his pace.

“I’m not fast enough!” You tried to keep your voice even, tried to keep it quiet in the echoing stairwell so that the soldier behind you would hear.

“You’re almost there, Y/N. Just keep up the pace. Two flights left and—“ but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You watched in shocked horror as Bucky’s figure leapt over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. He dropped several flights before his arm snapped out and wrapped around the railing. The sound of metal hitting metal rang out around you as the railing dipped under the crushing pressure.

He hauled himself back onto the stairs just before you. Those cold eyes found yours, dark hair framing sharp features, painting him into something primal. Something wild.

That feeling pounded through you again, skittering along your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You still couldn’t place it, not with him stepping towards you with a look that promised violence.

You heard Steve’s voice ordering something over the earpiece, but it was distant. It became clearer a moment later. “We’ve got a team heading in. Just… just hang in there.”

You swallowed, but your throat had gone dry in the presence of the assassin before you. His eyes held you in place as his towering form finally stopped a stair below you, leveling with you face to face. So close you could count the stitches in the Kevlar of his suit.

You felt your body shaking, heard your heart thundering in your ears as your chest rose and fell with each short breath you managed to drag into your lungs.

And he watched every move you made.

His head titled to the side exactly like it’d done the first time you’d been trapped with him. His gaze never left you, eyes wandering over your face and heaving chest before that faint look of recognition settled into those hollow eyes.

And then that heat you’d seen before consumed them.

He stepped forward, and you answered with a step back. For each one he took, you pedaled backwards until your body was plastered against the wall. When you tried to flee back up the stairs, his metal hand planted itself against the wall inches from your head.

You were utterly trapped.

Rough Russian left his lips in the softest whisper. The sound was the same as you’d heart him say before, though you didn’t understand it.

Not until now, as the earpiece Steve had given you translated his words as he spoke them.

“Hello again, Beloved.”

Those blue eyes bored into yours, as his other hand came up to brush your cheek with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of.

“He’s kept me from you for so long.” Bucky’s body leaned forward, caging you against the wall. His metal hand remained pressed against the wall beside you, and the other dragged across the skin of your neck and shoulder in an almost reverent manner.

Bucky’s— no, this wasn’t Bucky. This was the part of Bucky he kept farthest from you. This was a man known for cruel, unimaginable violence. An assassin known by reputation around the world by both hero and criminal alike and feared by all. This was the Winter Soldier.

Winters lips brushed your jaw, stubble tickling the column of your throat as his voice rumbled against your skin. “Kept you to himself. Never let me touch you. Worried I’d damage you, Beloved. Couldn’t see you needed me.”

His teeth nipped at your skin, and a shiver rolled down your spine in answer. That feeling tugged at your mind again, spurred by his words. But still, you couldn’t place it. Not with your mind consumed by his statements and barely contained yearning.

When his head lifted to find your eyes again, the fingers of his right hand tangled themselves in your hair and pulled hard enough to have your scalp stinging. His next words were guttural and biting, “And then he let you go.”

Winters grip loosened a bit, but his hold on your hair remained. “He pushed you away, and then that god tries to take you from me?” His eyes held you, demanding your utter attention as his head shook slowly, “You don’t belong to him.”

Tugging your lip between your teeth, you clenched your eyes shut. God, you wished Bucky would say that to you. Having Winter here saying these words with Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s face. Touching you with familiar hands…

Heat had begun to pool low in your belly.

The words were spoken in English. “Open your eyes.”

There was no room for objection in his voice, so you did as he said. With his jaw was set in an angry line, and those blue eyes boring into your soul, he leaned in closer. “He thinks that being with you is too dangerous, that you aren’t safe with… with us.”

“What?” Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. It was the first real reason as to why Bucky had broken up with you.

Those silvery blue eyes zeroed on your lips as he spoke again. “He thinks we can’t protect you, that I’ll hurt you. That somehow being further from you keeps you safe from what comes with being what we are.” His metal hand left the wall in favor of brushing over your lower lip and trailing the cool tips of his fingers down to the dip of your breasts and back up to the column of your throat. “I’d never hurt you, not the way he has. Not if you didn’t want it.”

“W-what do you mean?” You just knew he was picking up on how your heart beat harder as his fingers trailed over your skin. Or the way you kept shifting on your feet to stave off the heat thrumming in your veins with an all too familiar want blooming and begging for his hands to explore more.

The faintest hint of a smile graced his face as he gave your hair another gentle tug, then loosened his grip once more. “You like this. I’ve seen how you react with him. How you quietly treasure the marks he leaves on your skin even when he feels nothing but guilt.” That metal hand slipped over your throat again and pressed on your neck exactly as he’d done the first time you’d seen Winter. Your head spun at the pressure, but you could breathe easily under the cool press of his palm as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “I see how badly you wish he’d touch you with this hand,” he squeezed your neck and loosened it quickly, “How badly you want those marks. How badly you need me.”

You had no words. Nothing to say as he wrung out the truth you’d thought was hidden from him— from Bucky.

Bucky was notorious for avoiding any situation that would make him use the metal arm. He would much rather let it hang there, or act as if he didn’t have it at all. That included when the two of you would get intimate. He never dared to bring it anywhere near you no matter how many times you’d reminded him it was fine, that you weren’t afraid of it. He outright refused to allow it to touch your delicate skin, to let such a catalyst for agony so close to something as precious as you.

Winter knew that you’d secretly craved to feel the cold metal in contrast to his warm skin when he held you. He knew that you would always find it more satisfying when Bucky would lose himself and get rough with you when things got heated. How his flesh hand would leave bruises on your thighs or hips to keep you steady as he thrust himself deeper.

Just the thought had you aching, and here was Bucky’s darker half offering you everything you’d ever wanted.

You were losing your fucking mind.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but the words were flimsy and meaningless. He knew the truth, but that didn’t mean you had to say it aloud.

His metal fingers dug into your jaw, his grip near bruising as he tilted your head up to level your eyes with his. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dollface.” His lips were a hairs-width away, his warm breath fanning over your face.

The scent of him was intoxicating, muddling your mind even further with heady leather and metal invading your nose. The hint of that aftershave you’d missed so much since Bucky broke your heart.

Winter was tearing you apart at the seams.

“Please,” you whispered. Please what? You didn’t know. You could hardly think straight. That feeling was so strong, thrumming along with your pulse and the ache for something. Anything.

“Tell me I’m right.” He mumbled against your skin. Soft lips, a vast contrast to his rough demeanor, to the calloused hand that remained tangled in your hair, trailed down your cheek. “Tell me that you want me. Not the pathetic excuse for a god, or him. That you want me.”

His metal hand released your face, drifting over your neck and dragging over the left side of your chest. He circled once, thumbing over your nipple with a knowing look filled with every sinful promise known to man.

And then he went lower and lower…

His fingers caught the waistband of your leggings, the chill of his fingers raised goosebumps across your stomach, only serving to worsen that burning need.

“Doll,” a command and a question wrapped in one word.

All you had to do was admit your darkest most guarded secret. Confess, and he would give you what you wanted most. What Bucky was too afraid to do.

You opened your mouth, the words tumbling out as he gave your hair another tug.

“I want you.”

That smirk grew just a fraction more, his fingers slipping past your waistband and toying with the hem of your panties.

Fuck, did you wish you’d gone commando today.

“Who am I?” He asked, teeth nipping down your neck hard enough to know they’d leave marks. “I want you to say it, Y/N.”

Those fingers slipped further, rolling over your aching clit in a teasing stroke before he pulled them away again.

If he wasn’t a literal assassin, you’d consider strangling him.

“For fucks sake,” you gripped his arm, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears, ragged and broken. “Winter, please.”

He didn’t waste time, deft, cool fingers dipping into your core with confidence. Soothing that aching heat.

Fuck.

His thumb circled slow as he pumped his fingers, his mouth leaving wet kisses along your jaw up to your lips where he paused long enough to catch a glimpse of your face. You knew you looked like an utter mess, but those blue eyes showed nothing but twisted delight. He leaned forward and tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, bitting hard enough to make you groan.

Winter’s answering grunt of approval urged you further towards the edge of oblivion those perfect metal fingers were working you towards.

God you were so close. Each movement, every touch and bruise he left on your skin pushing you closer and closer. Just a bit more, a fraction more and you’d—

His fingers wrenched away, gone in an instant.

Your eyes, closed from the pleasure just moments ago, snapped open just before the doors to the stairway above and below you burst open. Floods of agents filed through the doors, and a gun fired.

The sharp sound echoed in the confined space making you flinch. Winters back pressed you against the wall, a solid shield of muscle keeping you out of harms way.

Then the weight was too heavy. His body crushing you as he slumped toward the floor. You screamed, immediately thinking the worse as your eyes searched his form in a panic.

But you found no blood, thank God.

“He’s fine, Y/N.”

Steve’s hand on your shoulder had you flinching back, head snapping to his suit clad form. “The gun—“

“It’s just a tranq. I promise, Bucky will be fine.” His face was the picture of practiced reassurance.

A horde of agents rushed forward and cuffed Winters hands and dragged his unconscious body out of the stairwell and further towards the confinement room. Steve remained with you, his eyes flicking to your neck a few times and checking you over to make sure no serious damage had been done.

When you’d gotten yourself back to your room away from the prying eyes and the relentless questions, the reality of what had happened slammed into you.

You just let the Winter Soldier finger you in a fucking stairwell.

And you liked it.

Plunging your fingers into your hair, you took a shaky breath. What the fuck were you thinking? Had you lost your damn mind? Bucky broke up with you three months ago! You were done; over, moving on. He could remember this, for Christ sake! How would you explain it?

Panic writhed in your stomach, but so did the faint ache of need that reminded you of what had just happened mere minutes ago.

The feeling of his metal hand on your skin, the feeling of those fingers working you perfectly and the pressure of his bruising grip.

And that feeling that you couldn’t place.

But now you had a word for it.

From the thrum of your heart as he chased you down the stairs, the promise of violence and sinful pleasure in his eyes. The roughness of his actions…

It was the thrill.

You liked the chase. You liked how rough he was. The delicious blend of panic and pleasure.

And he’d been interrupted before you got the release you’d craved. That you needed.

Frustration boiled to the forefront of your mind, a dozen different strategies with it.

He’d made you confess your darkest secret only to leave you high and dry.

And damn him if he wasn’t going to finish what he started.

[rose-pearls]

Hey! Can I req a Clarisse x reader fic? Basically Clarisse gets dared to get reader to fall in love with her, eventually clarisse wins the dare and get's the money but has caught feeings and doesn't want reader to find out it's all been a bet. someone informs reader of the bet. They fight and break it off. Causing clarisse to get super sad and act ooc. At the end Clarisse finds reader during capture the flag or something and they talk it out. Thank you and feel free to make changes!

Thank you so much for your request, I loved writing it!! I had a similar idea the morning I read your request so I had some ideas in my mind but here it is!! Hopefully you like it!

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)

Clarisse knew this was a bad idea, deep down she did, but her pride was stronger than her moral sense in that moment. The Aphrodite cabin was known for their tradition of having to break their first lover’s heart to become an official part of the cabin. She had seen Silena do it just a few days ago and as she sees the poor teenager walking around still heartbroken, she can’t help but snort.

“I can’t believe they are still crying over what happened,” she says, and Silena shoots her a warning look.

“It’s called heartbreak Clarisse, of course it hurts,” but the Ares girl only shakes her head in disbelief. 

“It’s not as easy as it looks to move on after you fell for someone. But you wouldn’t know about that,” Silena looks a bit pissed and maybe that is when Clarisse should’ve stopped herself from running her mouth.

“What does that meant?”, she says, feeling slightly offended at the words of her best friend who sighs.

“I mean that you haven’t had someone in love with you and have to break their heart,” Silena explains softly, and Clarisse feels hurt at the words, but she tries to shove it down.

“I could get someone to fall for me,” she says, and Silena raises her eyebrows before the head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin arrives.

“What are you two talking about?”, she asks, looking curious, and usually Clarisse would bite her head off, but she is too invested in defending her pride.

“About the fact that I could get someone to fall in love with me,” Clarisse says, and Clara’s eyes sparkle at the words while Silena shakes her head.

“Are you willing to bet on it?”, Clara says, and Clarisse sits straighter at the words, it was known that Ares kids never backed down from a dare.

“Of course,” she says, trying to sound as confident as she could. 

“You have two weeks to make someone that we chose fall in love with you, if you manage that I’ll give you the fifty dollars I won from your brother,” she remembers the stupid dare that Brian had lost but she knows that she can win this, and she could use the money.

“Clarisse don’t do this,” Silena says, looking unsure but Clarisse is determined, her pride and reputation was now on the line.

“Who do you choose?”, she hopes secretly that they don’t choose one of the Hephaestus kids, she couldn’t imagine herself faking a love story with one of them, but she knew that Silena knew her well. She just had to wait a few seconds before Clara and Silena finished discussing.

“We chose, the daughter of Poseidon,” your name makes her look up and before she can help it, she lets out a laugh, this would be easier than she thought.

“You are so on,” she says before shaking Clara’s hand and Silena even as the girl looks unsure at the bet.

Clarisse knew you had had a crush on her some time ago, so it would be easy for her to slip right into your life and make you fall for her. The only issue that could possibly make this more difficult was your demon of a half-brother, Percy Jackson.

--

It had been a weird couple of days, Clarisse had started spending more time around you, talking to you and seemingly trying to get closer to you. Because of that you couldn’t help but feel flustered and wonder if that stupid crush on her really went away or it was still there after two years. 

Percy hadn’t seemed too happy with the fact that the Ares girl was getting closer to you, often staying close to you when usually he would run of to spend time with Annabeth and Grover.

“Percy, for the last time I will be fine going to the lake alone, I’m a grown woman,” you say, trying not to get frustrated at the worried boy, he had promised Annabeth and Grover that they would spend the day together, but he now wanted to come with you to the lake to ‘protect’ you.

“Fine, but if you need anything scream and I’ll be there,” he says, and you smile softly at your brother.

“I will, now go and enjoy your time with Annabeth and Grover,” you tell him before ruffling his hair, enjoying the way he squeals before trying to get his curls back in place.

Luckily for you no one is at the lake, which gives you the opportunity to sit down with your feet in the water. Water had always brought you peace and when Poseidon claimed you, you knew why.

“Managed to get rid of your guard dog?”, someone says behind you, and you turn around to find Clarisse with a smirk, making you blush softly.

“Percy isn’t a guard dog, and he is enjoying a day of rock-climbing with Annabeth and Grover,” you say, wondering why you would say all that to her when the girl probably doesn’t care about it.

“That’s nice, but nicer for me, means I can have some alone time with his big sister,” she says, and you can’t help but clear your throat at the words, a dark blush making his way on your cheeks. Gods, this girl could throw you into a loop.

“Really? And why would you want to spend some alone time with me?”, you can’t help but ask, for the hundredth time wondering why the Ares girl had taken a sudden interest in you. She looks unsure for a moment before letting out a sigh and getting a bit closer to you.

“It’s a bit awkward to flirt with you when he is there and I would prefer to have you all to myself when asking you out on a date,” she says the words like she is just reciting a list of things she needs from the grocery stores, with an easy smile. It’s as if she doesn’t realize how the words affect you, your heart beating so hard you’re afraid it will beat out of your chest. The water at your feet moves a bit faster, as if the waves follow the erratic beating of your heart. 

“You want to ask me out on a date?”, you manage to say, and she nods after a moment, a small smile on her lips, it looks tense but maybe it’s just because she is worried that you will say no. 

“Why?”, you can’t help but choke out, and the Ares girl looks surprised at the words, her eyes widening.

“Why not? You’re a beautiful girl and probably one of the sweetest even to Ares kids and I’ve enjoyed our conversations in the past few days,” she says, and you can’t help but try and read her expressions but there is only some kind of nervousness.

“Okay,” you say, watching her eyes sparkle in surprise at your sudden answer.

“Okay as in?”

“As in, I’ll go on a date with you,” you say, trying to hide your nervousness but you can’t help it, this woman makes you lose all your common sense. There is a sharklike grin that appears on her lips and as she comes closer to you, you can’t help but feel breathless at the sight of her brown eyes.

“What do you say we go on that date now, before your guard dog comes back?”, you don’t bother telling her that Percy isn’t your guard dog, and even if you had wanted to do it you wouldn’t have been able to when you feel her brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sure, I’m free all day long,” you don’t need to say more before the Ares girl gets up and gives you her hand to help you get up from the water, it looks rowdier than before, but you suppose it’s because of your nervousness.

You expect her to bring you to the training ground, after all it’s where all the Ares kids feel more at home, but you’re surprised as she brings you further away into the forest. 

“You know I’m starting to think you are going to kill me somewhere deep in the forest,” you say in a teasing voice and Clarisse scoffs in answer but there is a smile on her lips, making your stomach flutters.

“Please if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve already done it,” she says it with such ease that you don’t know if you feel scared or attracted to her.

The both of you finally arrive to a small clearing in the woods, it seems hidden from the rest of the world but there are a couple of flowers growing around it and you can’t hear the loud noises of camp, only the birds.

“This is beautiful,” you can’t help but say as you look around, smiling at the rose bushes.

“Nearly as beautiful as you,” she says, with such smoothness that you nearly face plant into one of the rose bushes.

“Gods, Clarisse warn someone before you say that” you can’t help but say with a dark blush once again on your cheeks but the Ares girl just smirks.

“Now where is the fun in that,” she says with a soft voice before coming closer to you and brushing another strand of your hair away. 

She is so close to you, that you can see the small golden flecks in her brown eyes and for a moment you wonder what is happening before you feel her soft lips on yours. You don’t even have time to respond before she pulls away slowly, there is something in her eyes that you can’t decipher.

“Is this okay?” she asks, in a soft voice that you haven’t heard a lot before today and instead of answering her you bring her back into a kiss, enjoying her smile against your lips.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire as she brushes her hand against your cheeks, holding it softly and your stomach is erupting in butterflies at the kisses of the Ares girl, who seems to know what she is doing because that woman can kiss. The both of you only stop kissing each other when there is a need for air, and you can’t stop the big smile from appearing on your lips before she takes your hand and brings you slowly on the ground. You both look at each other for a moment, chests heaving from kissing each other and as Clarisse comes closer to kiss you again you put your finger on her lips with a teasing smile.

“As much as I like kissing you and trust me, I do. I also want to get to know you,” she seems surprised at your words and for a moment you wonder if you said something wrong before a soft smile appears. 

“What do you want to know?”, she asks, looking a bit shy for a moment but you just smile in reassurance.

“Everything, just tell me about yourself,” she takes a deep breath before laying back down next to you, this time closer and you turn on your side to be able to look at her.

“I’ll guess I’ll start with-”

You spend the entire afternoon there, just talking the two of you, about your lives before camp and about your godly parents. You haven’t felt this good in a long time, like you had finally found your safe space. There was also a side of Clarisse that you had never seen before, a scared girl who had always been scared of what her father would think of her and how she couldn’t just be herself with others, she needed a guard up.

“You can always be yourself when you’re with me, you don’t need to keep that guard up,” you tell her softly and she looks at you with eyes filled with sadness and you take her hand to try and reassure her.

“You will leave one day,” she says, like she already knows how your story will end but you shake your head in disagreement.

“I won’t, I know we haven’t known each other for such a long time but I will always be there in your corner Clarisse. I’m not leaving anytime soon,” you tell her, and she looks pained at the words, like you are stabbing her with a knife. 

“Thank you,” she manages to whisper before bringing you into a sweet kiss.

--

The both of you had agreed to keep this quiet, or at least for the time being as Percy didn’t seem to like the Ares girl and you wanted to ease him into it. Clarisse had just wanted to tell Silena and unbeknownst to you also Clara who had looked like she had swallowed a lemon when Clarisse had told her the both of you were now dating.

“You can still put an end to it now,” Silena says after a moment and Clarisse looks at her in surprise.

“It will all be fine, I’ll get her to fall in love with me and then just break up,” she says it like it’s the simple’s thing in the world and ignores her best friend’s worried look, but mostly she tries to forget how good it felt to be with you.

She makes an effort to try and see you every day, thinking it will bring her to her goal faster, but it only makes her heart beat faster and think of you more often than before. She tried to push it all down, the feelings coming up when you would brush a strand of her hair or look at her with worried eyes when she hurt herself. It was difficult not to try and kiss you every time she saw you, it was like she got addicted to you.

Deep down she knows that Silena was right, and that it would’ve been easier to stop it sooner, but she couldn’t stop now, not when her pride was still on the line. Secretly she also knew she didn’t want to stop this and not be able to spend time with you.

“She is getting better,” Silena says next to her, and Clarisse jumps at her best friend’s voice, before turning back to you with a blush on her cheeks.

You had been sword fighting with Percy, you called it your bonding time, and she can’t help but smile as the two of you start teasing each other.

“She is,” she says and takes a moment to turn back to her friend, only to find her with a knowing look.

“You like her,” Silena says, like she is just saying that the sky is blue and not that Clarisse could like a person.

“I don’t!”, she quickly says, trying to stop the embarrassing blush that appeared on her lips, but Silena sends her a pointed look.

“It’s okay if you do, maybe if you tell her now, she won’t be as angry,” she says carefully, like she is scared that Clarisse will get mad at her words.

“I’m not telling her, I need to win this bet,” she says, feeling determined even if there is a bad feeling that she tries to squash down.

“Even if it means losing her and what you have or could have?”, the question is painful, Silena knows it too, she has always known her better than herself. 

“Love has never been in the cards for me, and it won’t,” as a daughter of Ares she knew that her father would see her as even weaker if she fell in love with someone and she couldn’t have that.

--

She closes her eyes as she feels your hand running through her hair, there is still water sticking to your chest, like it belongs there but she doesn’t mind, enjoying the warmth coming from your chest and the sun. 

The two of you had managed to sneak away from camp, the sun was coming up and camp-half-blood would be waking up any minute now, but she couldn’t get herself to get up. You were telling her another story about Annabeth and Percy and how you thought your brother was an oblivious idiot, making her snort in laughter.

“There is a reason why she calls him seaweed brain, princess,” she says, and she enjoys your laughter at her answer.

“We are going to have to leave soon,” she knows you don’t want to; she can hear your regret and she feels it too, wanting to stay here for a moment longer and enjoying this moment away from reality where she can just pretend the two of you are together. Clarisse had been doing it far too often recently, pretending like there isn’t a bet hanging above your heads and that she is just with you. 

“I don’t want to leave,” she says with a whine before lifting her head from your chest and looking at you with a pout.

You have that beautiful smile on your lips that makes her heart flutter, Silena called it your ‘Clarisse’ smile, but she had ignored her, only letting herself smile at the words in the darkness of the night.

“Gods, I love you,” she hears you say and freezes. 

The words make her heart beat faster, the fact that you seemed to love her makes her feel weak in the knees, wanting to hear you say it again and again. But at the same time, she wants you to take it back, because it means that she won her bet and that your time together is coming to an end. She knows that she looks like a fish out of the water, her mouth opening and closing while her mind races.

She nearly says it back, but she stops herself. She couldn’t be in love with you, she had always told herself she wouldn’t do it but as she looks at your sparkling eyes and loving smile she wants to scream it at the top of her lungs.

“It’s okay if you don’t say it back right now, take your time,” you say with an understanding smile, and Clarisse feels like the worst person on the planet at that moment.

“Thank you,” she barely manages to say, and you smile softly before kissing her quickly on the mouth, probably to say goodbye to go back to your cabin but she deepens it, wanting it to last in case it’s the last one she gets.

Clara and Silena are talking when she drops in front of them, she doesn’t feel as happy as she thought she would be, winning the bet.

“She told me she loved me,” Clarisse says, and both girls look at her in surprise, Clara curses softly under her breath but Silena only looks at her with a worried look. Maybe she can see how painful it is right now, no matter how hard she tries to push the guilt down.

“There you go, congratulations on wining the bet, didn’t think you could make the Poseidon girl fall in love with you” Clara says, and Clarisse takes the money slowly, like it will catch on fire and burn her for what she did, but it doesn’t. 

“The bet. We don’t talk about it to anyone this stays buried,” Clarisse says, she doesn’t want anyone to find out, maybe if she pushed it away and ignored it you wouldn’t ever learn of it, and she could still enjoy your time together. 

If only she had watched who had been around her through the exchange.

--

She finds you at the lake, a smile immediately appears on her lips as she finds you sitting in front of the water. But as you lift your head up, tear tracks on your cheeks she feels her blood run colds. She is ready to turn back and find whoever hurt you, to get revenge for you but she can only stumble towards you, you were her priority.

“Hey, princess, what happened?”, she says and as she tries to get closer to you, you turn away from her hands, making her frown.

“Don’t call me that,” you whisper, a cold tone to your voice that she has never heard before.

Before she can say anything, you turn back towards her with a cold look, the water starts moving faster.

“Was it worth it?”, you whisper, tears in your eyes and Clarisse feels confused for a moment, wondering what you mean.

“Was it worth it the bet you made?”, your words make her stumble and as she tries to form a sentence you shake your head. 

“I can’t believe this; I can’t believe this all was a bet and I thought this was real. I’m such an idiot,” she hears you whisper while getting closer to the water, Clarisse tries to get her legs to work again but she is trembling from the fact that you knew.

“Please, just let me explain,” she says, trying to get her thoughts back together, but the only thing she can think about is the fact that she is losing you, that you could be slipping away from her. You let out a scoff before a cold laugh leaves your lips, making her shiver. 

“Really? How can you possibly explain this Clarisse?”, she doesn’t know how she can, the only thing she knows is that she can’t lose you, she tried not to think about it too much, but she knew she had fallen over you over the last few weeks. Silena’s words were really biting her back in the ass.

“I know it looks bad and in the beginning it’s true that I didn’t feel anything for you,” she hears you scoff in disbelief, but she doesn’t want to give up.

“But it all changed when I got to know you, when we spent time together, you have to believe me,” she says, and she hopes that you will believe her, that somehow you would look at her again with that loving smile.

“How can I? When everything we had was based on a lie!”, you yell and Clarisse flinches, she has never heard you this angry or hurt before and the water seemed to follow your anger as it started getting rowdy.

“Please, just-”, she tries to talk but you shake your head.

“Don’t! Just leave me alone, I don’t ever want to see you again,” you tell her, and she feels like someone has just ripped her heart from her chest. She tries to get closer to you, but the water forms a wall behind you, and she knows that if she doesn’t leave she will end up getting thrown back. 

There are tears falling down her cheeks and she doesn’t want to leave you, she wants to go back to that morning and tell you that she loves you back, maybe it would have made this all better. 

“You told me you would always be there for me,” Clarisse whispers and you shake your head sadly, like she is just hurting you on purpose.

“Leave Clarisse,” you say, and she feels her heart breaking at the pain in your voice.

“I’ll always be there for you, and I won’t stop fighting for us,” Clarisse says but you ignore her, your back shaking from sobs you barely contain, and Clarisse wants to yell and throw something, but she leaves, like you asked her. It’s the hardest thing she ever had to do, and as she turns back, she finds Percy holding you in his arms as the water is lapping at both of your feet. 

She tries to get her anger out on the training dummy but when she starts feeling the rain pouring down on her she can only let out the shaky breath she was holding and falling to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. And for the first time in a long time, she lets herself cry, moments of the both of you flashing before her eyes.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there on her knees in the rain until Silena manages to make her move, the Aphrodite cabin is quiet, and she only realizes a few minutes later that no one is there.

“She knows, she found out,” Silena lets out a sigh before putting a blanket over her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry Clarisse,” she whispers trying to warm her up, but Clarisse shakes her head.

“Don’t be it was my fault; I knew it was a bad idea. I should’ve listened to you,” she says, she knew she shouldn’t have taken the bet but at the same time it got her you, even for just a moment and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Try to win her back, show her you love her,” Clarisse looks at Silena in surprise, but she has a knowing smile.

“Don’t you dare give up,” her best friend says and Clarisse nods quickly, she will do anything she needs to do to win you back.

--

As much as she hates Percy Jackson, she has to admit he is a good brother, he had managed to block every attempt she had made to talk to you or get close to you, glaring at her with all his might.

“Please Luke, just keep him busy for one hour,” she begs, ignoring Luke’s surprised look, hoping that the Hermes boy will do it.

“Alright I will, but you better make it right,” Luke warns her, and she quickly nods in agreement, already planning what she was going to say to you.

The day Luke finally manages to get Percy away with you is a sunny one, and as she gets closer to the Poseidon cabin, she feels nervous at the thought of seeing you again. She knocks on the door, trying to get herself together.

“Come in,” she hears you yell and as she opens the door, she finally sees you for the first time in a week. 

You still look as breathtakingly beautiful as before and she takes in the small details that changed. You look surprised at the sight of her and for a moment Clarisse feels breathless but as you look at her with raised eyebrows, she knows she needs to talk and fast.

“I brought these for you,” Clarisse says, giving you the roses, she had convinced the children of Demeter to grow. You look at her with surprised eyes before taking them after a few seconds of looking at them.

“Thank you,” you say softly, and your voice makes her heart beat faster.

“Can we talk?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, showing her the soft chair there was in the corner.

“I know you probably didn’t want to see me, but I just needed to speak with you,” she says trying to find the confidence that she usually had but she couldn’t find it.

“The bet was a bad idea, I know that, but I guess that my pride was more important at that moment. I started talking with you, and getting to know you and suddenly the bet was just an excuse to spend time with you,” you look pained at the words, but you don’t stop her, which she is grateful for.

“And then we kissed, and I never felt like that before, with anyone. You made me want to be a better person, you gave me hope and showed me that there is so much more to life than just pride and reputation. Along the way I did fell for you, even if at first, I didn’t want to believe I did,” you take a deep breath at the words and Clarisse feels her hands getting shakier, but she continues.

“The bet was the worst thing I could do to you but it’s also the best thing I ever accepted because it brought me you and showed me how important you are to me. If I could I would do it all over again without the bet, but I can’t. And you have every right to tell me to get lost and never want to see me again, but I just needed to tell you that I love you and I did from through all the moments we shared together,” there are tears falling down your cheeks and she knows that she is crying to.

“I wanted to hate you so much you know?”, she knows, even though it hurts to hear you say it, she knows that you should hate her for what she did.

“But I can’t hate you, no matter how hard I try I can’t. I just want to be near you and hold you and spent time together, like we used to before all of this,” the confession makes her heart beat faster, hope filling her whole being.

“I know I don’t deserve this, but could you give me a second chance? To prove to you that I was being real and that it wasn’t all just a bet,” you look unsure, like you are fighting against yourself. 

“You have one chance. Don’t make me regret giving it to you,” you tell her, and she quickly nods, a feeling of relief filling her up.

“I will never make you regret this; I will show you just how much I love you every single moment I get,” she says, and she enjoys the shy smile that appears on your lips and the blush coating your cheeks at the words.

“There is only one thing you will have to overcome first,” you say with a grimace but there is a sparkle of mischief in your eyes.

“What is it?”, she asks, ready to fight anything that comes in the way.

“Me,” she hears someone say, only to find Percy Jackson looking at her with a sharklike grin and his sword in his hand.

And that is how Clarisse finds herself having to fight Percy Jackson for the honor of dating his sister. But she would do it over and over again if it means seeing you smile like that.

[lo1k-diamonds]

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart. 

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

[mattsdolll]

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥? - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . friends with benefits? not really. was it casual when matt kissed you with no strings attached? was it casual when you were tangled in each others bedsheets every night without apprehension? was it casual when you were in love? and nobody even knew. angst with a happy ending !!, i tried to write this with as dramatic as possible cus😁 pls pretend the header matches the fic

"dream of us in a year , maybe we'd have an apartment"

2.1k words

enjoy🤍

you dreaded the day this would happen, it was bound to. you fell hard and fast. pathetically, you were infatuated by him. you stirred out of your unconsciousness, staring at the cracked ceiling paint, you were supposed to fix that months ago, he was supposed to fix it with you. that emptiness in your heart was something only he ever fulfilled. warm summer nights faded into grey snowy evenings, alone in your bed. you hated it, but you could never hate him.

his lips pressed into yours gently, his touch tender. he worked his way down to your neck, evoking a gasp from you. he had such a way of putting you in a lovesick daze, it was sickening. you watched the boy prod and push his lips into your flesh admiringly, you marveled at his features. he pulled his head out of your neck, staring down at you lovingly. he smiled sheepishly, causing you to chuckle. he always had this stupid smile on his face when he was with you, like a little kid at a toy shop. it didn't last long, though.

you scrolled through your messages, tears running down your cheeks as you re-read old texts from him.

9:43am. "I love you soo much, I hope you have the best day ever, can't wait to take you to the beach later, the ocean brings out your eyes a lot"

you threw your phone down on your bed, a teary mess. your mascara flooded from your clamped eyelashes, spilling down your cheeks. you couldn't take this heartbreak, it was killing you. that day, he brought you to the beach knowing how much you adored it. you played in the waves like you would do as a child. he brought out the best in you. he watched the sunset with you, he kissed you. your gaze was fixed upon the sky as you watched the sun slowly begin to set, the sky lit orange and pink. when the sun went down, he was looking at you. he tilted your jaw to face him and mouthed a soft "i love you" before connecting your lips. you kissed him back with just as much pressure.

you ended up making out under the sunset for ages, his hands firmly on your waist as he brought you on his lap. he didn't want sex, he didn't want anything, he just wanted to be with you, to hold you close. he loved you so deeply he couldn't even view you under a lustful gaze. that night he took you home, he washed your hair for you, brushed it out and made you dinner. did i mention it was casual? you felt sick to your stomach at the thought of it.

the same boy who used to wipe your tears when you cried, the same boy who comforted you when things were rough at home, was the same boy who drifted furthest from you. it was momentary, it wasn't healthy at the time. you weren't ready for a relationship, you didn't know how to love. he sat you down one night on your bed, explaining how he felt. the words still lingered in your thoughts, bleeding into your once fond memories of him.

"listen, i don't know what we are, okay? i like you, a lot. i don't wanna lose you sweet girl but i can't be all you have, you need to rely on other things to make you feel better, 's not healthy..i know its hard, but we need to take a break, find yourself, go out and see the world f'me, yeah? i'm gonna find you again, we just need to take things slower."

you hated to admit he was right. you both rushed things and fell too hard. you were too attached. the tears stung your eyes as you barely responded,

"i know, i know, i can't keep running to you for every little problem i just- things are really hard, i'm gonna get better, okay? promise you'll wait for me?"

"promise."

he promised.

he gave you one last long, emotional hug before cutting contact for months. months.

it had been nearly three months since you'd seen your favorite boy, the grief eating you alive. you wished you'd held that kiss a few seconds longer, held him a little tighter, loved him better. you had to get better, for yourself and for him. you held your phone shaky in your hands, the screen slippery from your tears that leaked from your eyes as you typed. he hadn't blocked you, how could he ever leave you? you typed out a rough paragraph, you felt pathetic. you hit send, sitting anxiously in your bed. it had been too long, you craved his touch. you saw the message say delivered, now you had to wait.

you had felt unwell for weeks, your apartment a mess, dishes crowding the kitchen sink whenever you found the energy to cook for yourself instead of ordering yet again another takeout. you were miserable, to say the least.

your phone lit up, vibrating repeatedly, you scrambled to pick it up, checking your notifications. you almost couldn't believe he'd replied. not that he had a reason not to, it was just nostalgic. you read the notification, a simple message illuminating your screen.

"i can come over in a half hour, is that okay?" you replied with a 'yes' and put the phone down. you instantly began anxiously pacing around your apartment. did he wait? does he still love me? am i good enough for him? the thoughts raced through your head, the only thing snapping you out of them was your doorbell ringing.

you didn't even care how you looked, or if you were in pajamas with messy hair. you nearly stumbled into the door, shakily twisting the gold colored door knob. you were met by his blue iris, his gaze gentle. his hair was a little messy, he clearly rushed out the house. his hair was cut slightly shorter, it framed his face a lot. you exhaled deeply as his arms flew around your waist into a soft embrace. you hugged him back, around his neck. he gently picked you up off the ground, squeezing you against his body. "oh, pretty i missed you."

you felt at peace, he provided a sense of solace that soothed your mind. you hadn't felt this comforted in months, gently holding him closer. matt didn't try to kiss you, touch you, or anything. he just went straight for a hug, it was all he needed and he knew it was the same for you. some would consider it toxic, how you'd called him after nearly half a year of no contact, but today you could barely even hold yourself together, you needed him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay.

matt knew you struggled with severe anxiety, worse than his. your brain would spiral and it would become unbearable to the point you couldn't even speak. he would sit you down, hold you in his embrace and soothe your thoughts. you couldn't go a day without having yet another flare up or panic attack, it only worsened when he left. you choked up slightly at the feel of his touch, he gently walked you to your room, still hugging you.

"look at you" he mumbled to himself, he didn't find your disheveled state unattractive or ugly, instead he found this side of you perfect. it was natural, it was human. he felt some sort of awe knowing that you only went to him in times like these, that you had created such a safe space with him, no matter what terms you were on. maybe you weren't together or sneaking into each other windows anymore, you never really were together, anyways. but there was still so much love. he sighed to himself, laying you down in bed and getting in next to you, wrapping an arm gently around your shoulder. it killed you that it wasn't skin to skin, cuddling, his head in your neck, but then again you couldn't expect that of him, right?

wrong.

he tugged you on top of his chest, snuggling into your neck since he knew you hated people touching your hair. he made sure to drape the blanket over you just the way you liked it. you gazed up at him. "why are you doing this for me? i don't get it" he chuckled. how could you? "you think i don't know how you are by now? i know you, pretty." pretty. that nickname was your favorite, it was your favorite because only he got to call you that. he stared at you lovingly, not with lust or desire, with pure adoration and innocence. he was the embodiment of gentleness.

"i left you, matt. i threw away everything we had." you choked out, tears instantly forming in your eyes. he wiped them instantly, shushing you. "shh,and i don't care, okay? that doesn't change how i feel about you, i know it was for the best..i forgive you, i'm not mad at you, you're allowed to feel, okay?" you nearly shattered then and there. after all this time, he still loved you despite everything. "i left you too, remember? it's not your fault i love you." he whispered, comforting your cries.

he placed a soft gentle kiss to the crown of your head. were you ready for this? were you "better"? you weren't sure, but you wanted his presence, his sweet touch. you desperately craved him. your love for matt ran deeper than the cells beneath your skin, you could never hate him, more so you had a particular illusion of hatred toward yourself.

a now familiar warmth filled your chest as he clasped your frame in his arms, he stroked his hands up and down your back as you erupted into a fit of sobs. nothing about this was casual to you nor him, you practically dated, just without a label. you only began calming down after nearly half an hour.

"you're okay, i'm sorry." he whispered. how was he sorry? he had nothing to be sorry for, it was your fault, you hated yourself for this very reason. matt didn't see you that way. he never perceived you the way the rest of the world did. he saw something special in you that not even you could see. "i hate that i let this drag on so long, i wish i never walked away." you whispered, a soft almost plea for him to forgive you. he grasped your chin, bringing your lips to his. you eased into his mouth, melting together. the kiss was much softer than anything you had before with him. no, he was never rough with you, he wouldn't dream of it, but something about this was so consolatory.

"you know what? fuck this, yeah? let's start over, you and me, pretty. we can forget everything and start again" he mumbled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. you thought over what he said, honestly it wasn't a terrible idea. it was methodical, however you couldn't just forget everything, the smiles and laughs, the sobs and sorrows, every single second spent together with matt felt like an eternity. you put your thoughts aside, nodding your head. he didn't mean to forget, just to forgive and take a step forward.

"yeah? you wanna?" he beamed, giggling softly. oh how you missed that smile. you nodded once again, causing him to launch on top of you, smothering you in kisses.

"gosh pretty i missed you—missed this" he murmured against your flesh. you were one again, body and soul. you were filled by that familiar sense of relief, you missed him more. you laid tangled between the sheets for what felt like decades, just holding each other, talking. you loved him, things couldn't get more perfect.

or could they?

just a few months later, you found yourself in his bed. you had moved out of your shitty apartment, and into his small place near the beach. the air was crisp, salty. you crawled out of bed, making a cup of coffee, you could just be. you spent your days with matt, bathing in sunlight, your life was enliven.

you sat on the porch, watching the waves. matt scurried out of the house, eager to sit with you. he placed your drinks down—two glasses of wine. he snuggled up next to you, his head resting on your chest. you draped a shabby throw-over atop your bodies, leaning against him.

"so pretty, so so pretty" he mumbled softly, as you were staring out at the sunset before you, he was looking at you. you diverted your attention to him with a small smile, leaning down to press a small kiss to his wine stained lips.

just mere weeks ago you both would dream of times like these. you were finally happy.

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1 @bernardsgfs @sturnsxplr-25 @jetaimevous @aesthetixhoe @alyrasturnz @adorsturns @cvntytiger

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

【Synopsis】 : It's been so long since you've seen your boys. And when the youngest comes knocking on your door, the new life you had only just managed to build comes crashing down.

『Word count』 :  4.8k

-> Genre: Mafia au. Angst. Fluff.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Ot8 Ateez x Reader

[Warnings] : lots of heart ache. The reader is beside herself a lot. Blood. Gore. Death. Torture. Reader gets kidnapped. Tears. Hugging. Lots of cry. Grovelling (we stan a good grovel). And yeah, lots of angst but fluffy at the end. Kissing. Mingi got a dirty mind. Whoops.

Note: uh, so hi. Ahha It's been a while... I finally decided to actually finish the alt ending of this fic. I've had people ask for more, and I honestly forgot about it. But then i saw someone send in THIS request, and it made me want to finish this. So this can be read as a stand-alone. But if you want to read part 1 and the other ending. Go ahead, otherwise enjoyyyyy ♡

Part one | Other Ending

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You were alone. Wandering through life with nothing to hold onto. You were going underwater, and no one was around to help you above the heavy waves. You were numb. Heartbreak ridding you of happiness… Or so you thought.

Through a bottle or two... Maybe three or four. You found at the end of it. You were just as unhappy as you were before you took the first sip. You needed a change. A change of scenery. A change of personality. A completely new life. So there you were two towns over. Maybe not a whole country away from the old you, but this was just as good. A new apartment. New job. Architectural design. You enjoyed it, so dearly. It became something that kept you going. That kept you waking up. You were fighting for a glimpse of happiness in mornings that were still hard, and nights were just as restless as ever.

You were alone. Yes. But you tried.

It's been two whole years. You think you’d forgotten everything by now. But the biggest, deepest pain didn’t seem to heal as quickly as everyone says it does. Fucking Liars…

You were having a break from your long hours of sketching a new mansion floor plan, a private owner wanted it done within the week and for a heavy price and as much as it was a distraction you couldn't help but think how the design the private buyer seemed to want a floor plan that resembled something that one of your old lovers would have loved. The vintage vibe with a green and gold theme matched Mingi and Yunho perfectly. Your brain almost thought maybe they were the private buyer. But why would they go to you after what you had ‘apparently done’ to them? Before you could dwell on the idea anymore, the sound of your doorbell broke your gaze from the large sketch in front of you.

You question why someone would be visiting you at this hour, given that most of your clients would email you beforehand and your ‘friends’ would text. So, who could possibly be at your door? Your heart thumped strangely as if your body knew who was beyond the large oak before you. A ball started to form at the base of your throat. Was this anxiousness you were feeling? Gripping the silver handle, you creek the door open slowly, and when your gaze met the other person you feel your heart stop. 

“Hi…”

You looked at the man with a dumbfounded expression, tilting your head in confusion. Hi? After all these years, hi is what he starts with. What does he take you for? A hopeless woman needing a man to catch her when she falls?

You go to shut the door without a second thought, but he catches it in his strong arms. The same arms that used to hold you. Shield you from all the danger―no stop you didn’t need them when you were completely broken and you most certainly don’t need them now.

“Please let me explain. Honey, I just…” He was scrambling to find his words, his breath catching his throat like he was running a marathon prior to this interaction. “I wanted to see you…tell you.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jongho.” You finally spoke, silently yelling at yourself for sounding so shaky in your voice when you wanted to be mad, tone-deaf, blunt. But here you are, wanting to cry cause of the anger surging through you. Why must you always cry when you get mad. “You don’t get to come here after almost two fucking years, call me honey and tell me how much you miss me and think I’ll just fall back into your arms as if nothing happened.”

“T-that’s not what I want nor expect from you. I just want―I don’t care what you want. Now get off my porch.” You cut him off, slamming the door in his face before breaking down the minute you heard the latch click. Your legs buckle, sliding down the door before your knees hit the ground, sobbing into your hands. Your heart was breaking all over again, just like the night you left. You wanted nothing more than to run after him, beg him to hold you. But you couldn’t. They hurt you so much. How do you even begin to forgive them for what happened all those years ago?

-

Through the next months, you kept receiving letters, flowers, and gift boxes. Even teddy bears. Why would they give you teddy bears? You think they would have known you from being with them for so long. Throwing yet another soft plush toy on the ever-growing pile that sat in your office. You were beginning to become sick of it. You thought after you yelled at Jongho, he and the others would have gotten the hint, but you guess being dumped by eight mob bosses wasn’t as easy as you thought.

Sighing, you click your tongue, looking at the stack of letters you have yet to burn. You can’t even be bothered to open them, not wanting to even listen to anything they might have to say. But another part of you was curious. Maybe one letter couldn’t hurt, right? Reaching for the one on the top, your fingers grasp the small paper. It’s rough against your skin. Like the paper was made from a poor-quality tree. Odd? Why would your ex-lovers gift you such cheap gifts? Not that you were expecting high-priced gifts, but they had enough money to buy half the world, so you think them getting something with a heavier price tag wouldn’t matter. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up. 

But before you could think of anything else, a loud, almost anger-filled knock comes from the front door. Your body was suddenly on high alert. Goosebumps erode all over your skin as a sickening feeling clouds your head. Grabbing your letter opener―just in case―you walk slowly towards the noise. Thoughts ran through your head in time with the beats of your racing heart. You knew walking towards the suspicious noise was a bad idea, but what else could you do? Whoever was there would know you were home by the lights being on or how your car is parked in the driveway. You couldn’t just pretend you weren’t home, no matter how hard you wanted to try. 

Your fingers graze the door handle, feeling your breath hitch. You twist it slowly until you hear the creek of the door hinges swing inwards. You brace yourself for whoever it was, but what you are met with confused you. The porch was empty?

No one in sight…

But you certainly heard a loud knock. You were going crazy… were you? You huff, straightening up, feeling relief wash over you. Maybe it was some kids pranking the neighbours again, and you were their target for the day. Who knows. You click the door closed, but you lock it this time because even though you see no threat, you wanted to be sure. Entering your office again you walk over to the letters in order to continue what you were doing but when your eyes gaze over the pieces of paper you notice the one you were going to open wasn’t on the table. Where did you go? You thought, placing the letter opener on the table so you could place your hand on the edge of the oak desk so you could look under it. You looked everywhere and couldn’t seem to find it. It was like it had vanished. But…was that a flash? Something caught your eye.

Looking at the teddy bears, you see the letter sitting in the lap of one of the plushies. Tilting your head you notice a little red flash like as if there was a recor―Your eyes snap open stumbling back slightly before turning to run but your body is met with a very broad object and then before you can get any baring on what or who was in behind of you, everything went black.

-

It was like the world was spinning, your head pinging with an aching pain from the left side of your skull. You tried to open your eyes and look around, but you quickly figured out you were blindfolded and bound to what seemed to be a chair. Typical. Why is it that whenever someone gets kidnapped, they get tied to an old wooden chair? Why couldn’t it be a couch or one of those soft deck chairs? You could hear some scampering around you, three, maybe four people had entered the room you were in. You can smell their shitty cheap cologne that they most likely think bend women at the knees. You knew what kind of people they were before even seeing them. 

“Well well. Looks like my men have caught a pretty mouse of us to play with.” The heavy voice echoed around the room, hinting to you that you were most likely in an open area. A warehouse, maybe? “You are gonna be my ticket to freedom songbird.” 

You had to cringe at the pet name that fell from his lips. The name you were known as in the mafia world. More specifically, Ateez’s Songbird. You tried to sit still, hoping to show a fraudulent sense of confidence, but in reality, you were petrified. You no longer had the eight men you loved dearly to save you. Then again, you had no one to save you. Most of your friends lived out of town and wouldn’t even come to the rescue if you begged. You were alone with these men. Blindfolded and at their will. The man you assume was talking before lifted your blindfold off, seeing your eyes suddenly gaze upon the piercing light from the headlamp above you. You can see your suspicions were correct, four men ranging from sizable jock build to more lean ones but in the end, they were all ghastly, staring you down as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

“I want to know where Ateez is….” The grunt that escaped from the immoral male smelled of booze and low-quality cigars. His eyes were painted his redness, as if he hadn't slept in days, weeks even. He was boarding insanity at this rate by his expression. “Well come on, I know you know where they are, and to be blunt, I need them dead. You know business and all.” He rambles, walking around your figure while you sit there listening to his utter bullshit. His words remind you of when a villain in the story starts blabbering to the captor about how they needed to defeat the hero in order to take over the world. But in this case, both sides are just as villainous as each other, and the “world” that’s referenced is stocks… weapons, contraband, drugs, money. The list goes on and on.

“Why are you so quiet, Songbird? Protecting your lovers?” 

Now that one made you laugh, shaking your head in annoyance. Argh, what you would give to be home with a strong whiskey in hand right now. Your reaction sent a shocked expression to the disgusting man's face. He expected you to plea, beg for him to not hurt Ateez, to not hurt the loves of your life and yet here you sit, laughing right in his face like he had just said the most entertaining thing to you.

“I don’t know where they are.” You finally spoke, a sadistic smile painted your face. To never backed down from his gaze, almost trying to intimidate him with your blazed stare. “Why would I know, or care where they are? They don’t care about me.”

His paced. Fuck. He thought. Did his men really just kidnap you for no reason? He was going to shoot someone for this. He began to sweat, you were his only hope of getting the men he hates, attention. And now you were useless. His hand raked through his hair, coming down to scratch the stubble on his chin. What is he going to do with you now? Looking back at you his eyes slid down your body from head to toe, as if he was a predator sizing up his prey. You felt a sudden uneasiness. Maybe telling the man that held your life in his hand you were useless, wasn’t your greatest idea.

He moved away, whispering to one of his men before he sent him off, turning back to you straight after. He stepped one foot in front of the other in a slow and formed way, as if he had come up with the best plan in history. His devious smile brought a lump in your throat and the way he leaned down in front of you, placing both hands on the chair arms so he was face to face with you. “Well, little dove. We can find other uses for you, hmm?”

An idea popped into your head, and maybe it was your hotheadedness or your sheer stubbornness to do things out of spite. Bringing your body back slacked against the chair frame, you watched as his smirk grew, thinking he had finally managed to scare you, but before he could react, you whipped your head forward. Your forehead smashes against his nose with a sickening crack, and a blood-curtailing scream follows. The man gripped his nose with a sharp hiss. You could see blood pouring down like a waterfall from his nose, spilling all over his clothes and floor. Your blurred vision and ache in your skull doesn’t last long as you shake your head. You can see his men crowding around him to see if he is okay.

“Bitch!” He swore, standing up straight from his crouched position to stomp over to you and slap you clean in your face, making you and the chair fall over, smacking your side against the concrete. You can feel your wrist twist before popping out of place from the impact. Your elbow scraped against the harsh floor along with your arm, making you feel the sensation of your blood escaping through the broken skin. A cut on the top of your head also spilled some blood onto the floor making a headache begin to form. Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.

“Get the kit. I wanna teach this whore a lesson.” He spat out some blood that spilled into his mouth from his nose.

“whore? I thought it was bitch? Or as it little dove?” you need to shut your mouth but you choose to keep pushing his buttons. Idiot. He kicked you square in the gut making you hitch your breath before almost coughing up a lung at the pain. Your watered eyes could now barely see as you tried to blink the tears away. You spot out the corner of your eye a bag of what you could only guess, torture tools. Great, now you really fucked up.

-

You had passed out at least two or three times, and every time, you were woken up by ice-cold water to the face. The temperature of the water stung your opened wounds and burned at your hot red flesh. Time was absent to you, not knowing how long you’d been sitting, tied to the comfortable chair. God, your limbs were gonna ache once you were able to get out. that’s if you get out. 

Maybe you will die here. The irony. Dying in a place of crime in a life of anguish when you so desperately tried to run from it. To try so hard to clean up and forget the darkness that lingered in your past. But in truth, you missed. As sicken as it sounded. You missed the violence, the thrill, the wealth and power. You missed being feared by your enemies and adored by your lovers. Call you sadistic for finding nostalgia in torture, but it was true. Even if you were the one who was currently being hurt, you couldn’t help but smile weakly.

“I found her!!” A muffled voice and sounds of gunshots echoed around you. But you were so dazed you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the noise. Your eyes were fuzzed, and blood tainted your view. Everything was happening so fast until you saw the stillness.

“Y-yuyu?” Your eyes glossed, seeing a blurred figure that resembled Yunho. But it couldn’t be him, could it? You must be dreaming, finally getting ready to leave this plane, but why would your guardian angel look like Yunho?

“I’ve got you, baby. Hold on.” You had already passed out for the final time before you would hear another word slip from your ex-lover's mouth. His rough hands gripped the rope that bounded your hands, cutting it away with his pocket knife. He snaked his arm under your legs and on your lower back, picking you up from the old wooden chair with ease. Your blood had pooled on the floor and now trailed behind Yunho as he jogged with you in his arms. His suit was now tainted red from you, but he couldn’t care less. The only thing on his mind was getting you to safety and maybe killing some assholes along the way. 

-

To say you couldn’t explain the pain surging through your body was correct. You had never experienced such torture before, and man, you were definitely regretting some of the stupid shit you had said to the low-life mob boss earlier. Your vision was still so blurred, and your head was ringing. You could faintly see a bedside with a clock on it. But the face was dark like it was unplugged. You know this place. You remembered the smell of vanilla and pine. You remembered the dark spruce bed frame and emerald forest green bed sheets. You weren’t thinking when you started to snuggle into the bedding, inhaling the comforting scent.

You missed his smell. You missed being in this bed. God, you didn’t realize how much you missed them. You wanted to be strong. You didn’t want them, didn’t want to forgive them. But the comfort…. tears were falling from your cheeks onto the silk pillow. You were sobbing, and your mind was beside itself. One part screaming at you, telling you to suck it up and leave. But on the other side, you were so tired. So, so…tired…. and all you wanted was your boys. 

“Sugar…” You froze, hearing the man that belonged to the bedroom. His deep voice, velvet and smooth. You could hear a crack in it like he had been in tears prior. You didn’t move, frozen with fear, because you knew if you looked at him in those beautiful brown eyes, you would be done for. “Baby, are you awake?”

He knew you were, but he didn’t want to approach you without knowing if it was okay. He knew by the way you looked at them last time you saw them that you had feared them. Something he never wanted to see in your beautiful innocent gaze. Torment that he and the others caused. He would never forgive himself, so he understood if you never did either. “I want to go home…”

You didn’t know what else to say. So god damned scared to stay cause if you did, you might not leave. And you couldn’t do that. What they put you through. You couldn’t possibly begin a relationship with them again… right? “Mingi, please take me home…” you felt so small calling for him, you didn’t want to be surrounded by his scent but at the same time, you didn’t so much as budge from the covers. You didn’t want him to be near you, but yet when he sat down on the edge of the bed, your body was screaming to be held by him. Everything was so messed up. Why did it have to end up like this? Why was this your ending with them?

Mingi couldn’t find his wording, his hand coming up to your covered shoulders, putting a firm but gentle touch on it. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, kiss you. Make love to you while repeating how sorry he was over and over while he caused you to come over and over. “I missed you…” His voice cracked. “We all have…” better now than never to explain himself, right? “After the first couple of weeks, we found out that those pictures were faked. A way to manipulate us into crumbling our empire. They thought if they could put us all at each other's throats. I guess they won…”

“How did you find they were fake?” You asked in a whisper, keeping your face covered with the bed sheet. 

“Another anonymous tip went off that San was ‘sneaking’ around with some guy. But Wooyoung was quick to debunk it cause San was with him that whole week. So we quickly found out that this was a ploy to rip us all apart… which worked.” Mingi regretted every word he spoke. They managed to find out San was innocent quicker than you. San was lucky he had an alibi, though unlike you, that was away without their knowledge, just trying to buy a gift for your anniversary... god, they were so stupid...

“It...Worked?” You were confused about that since it only caused you to leave. From your knowledge, the boys were all still together? Mingi sighed, standing up, which caused you to peek out from your hiding spot to see him pouring a whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room. Before downing the amber-coloured liquor.

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong became obsessed with work. They’ve become biter…” He took another shot of the harsh liquor. “Cruel… The number of people they’ve put in the dungeons just from looking in their direction wrong.”

You felt sick, flashes of them yelling at you, cursing you. The image of them with that anger plus a gun. You felt sorry for any of the suckers that were unlucky enough to gaze at them wrong. You tangled your fingers into the soft sheets, playing with the velvet fabric. You note how the hand that had popped out earlier was still slightly swollen and numb, making you barely able to feel the fabric on your right fingertips. “W-What about the others…”

“Jongho spent most of his time looking for you. Spying on you. Seeing all the achievements you have made.” He sounded proud of you for a moment like he sought knowledge of your life from the youngest. “Yeosang drove himself into his computer work, taking on small tasks in the outer parts of the city. If we hadn’t said we brought you home, he would have still been hiding somewhere.” He flicked his hand in the air, scoffing slightly.

“San and Wooyoung changed the most when you left. They became lost without you, distant… different. Like the sunshine was ripped from their life, and darkness consumed them.”

He took a seat at the end of the bed again. You had sat up, crossing your legs, eyeing his figure. He has gotten bigger than the last time you’ve seen him. He’s bulked up, and from what your memory could recall, Yunho was bigger as well. The way his arms felt being around you as he carried you to safety were definitely bulkier. “And what about you? Yunho?”

He huffed, glancing up at you. His hand was so close to your covered legs. So close yet so far. “Yunho and I are…fine. We missed you.”

You knew fine meant they were both struggling just as much as the others. You shifted, moving a little closer to him. Your heart was still aching, but your body was craving to feel some warmth. and at this point, you were so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running. Tired of anyone telling you who or how to live your life? who cares if you run back to your exes? Who cared if you decided you move back with them? It’s not like you have friends or family that would tell you otherwise. All you had was them. Eight cruel mob bosses who would do anything for you and who were scared when they thought you had betrayed them. “I missed you too.”

His wide, glossy eyes snapped to yours. Like he had just heard someone spill the secret to life itself. His mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to spill his guts about how much he missed your smile and missed your laugh. Missed the way you would tease him for being too clingy, but yet you were just as clingy in the next breath. He missed the way your body would melt against his on cold nights, searching for warmth. Or how you would fit so perfectly around his….

“Min…You mind is wondering…” You knew his tells, and you knew he was sinking into his mind. 

“I uh…I’m just trying to find the words to say I’m sorry without it sounding like it was an excuse.”

“I believe you’re sorry, mingi. I believe you are all sorry. It doesn’t change or fix what happened. And it’s going to take time for me to trust you all again. But…” You leaned over, placing your hand on his shaking thigh. “I do forgive you.”

He broke.

“We don’t deserve your forgiveness. We don’t deserve you…” Tears were falling down his red cheeks, making you jump to wipe each one away without a second thought. You hadn’t realized how close you were until you noted the smell of the whiskey on his breath and the warmth of his body radiating to yours.

“You might not deserve me. But who is here to tell me to stay away…” he gave you a smile. You didn’t want to forgive him or the others fully per se, but you did want this push-and-pull game. This cruel twisted game of forbidden love. 

“The others are going to want to see you…” He spoke cautiously, afraid you might recoil away from him if he spoke too loudly. You just sighed, lowering your hands into your lap once again, sitting back. You could feel your wounds with every movement, but it wasn’t as painful as before. They must have given you some painkillers prior to when you were passed out. You were about to speak when a sudden thud was heard, quickly followed by a bunch of hushed whispers. You couldn’t help but smirk at the childishness, for angry mafia kings they sure know how to act like goofballs.

“They’re outside aren’t they?” You cocked your brow, giving Mingi a simple straight expression. He just rubbed the back of his neck with a small whisper of, ‘Sorry.’

You rolled your eyes, telling him to let them in. Your heart might have been racing faster than a race car, but you tried to hide the growing anxiousness with a plain expression. You were going to hear them all out. You were going to hug San and Wooyoung as they sobbed on the end of your bed with mumblers of ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You were going to give Yeosang a knowing look, so he knew that his silence was accepted and that you weren’t mad. You were going to thank Yunho for saving you, and he was going to kiss your palm as you held his cheek briefly.

And you were going to cry.

Sob at how Hongjoong sat on his knees, grovelling for your forgiveness and pleading how he was so messed up for not believing you. You’d all cry seeing the leader so vulnerable. And Seonghwa. Your darling, hwa… you would see such sorrow in his eyes. But you would let him kiss your cheek, hold you for a moment. Let him have you for a moment while you get your mind into check.

This was not a redemption. This was not forgetting. But a new chance.

Not a new chapter but a new book entirely.

You were going to grow, do your own thing. Be with them while you find yourself. And maybe, just maybe. You’d take Jongho’s offer all those years ago…and finally say yes…

— ♡

[myownwholewildworld]

masterlist

find me in ao3 | discord: arran.macleod

well, hello there! c:

i go by the name of arran in the world wide web, she/her, based in the uk and in my 30s era. i have been writing on and off for almost 20 years now on different platforms, but this is really the first time i venture into the fanfic realm in tumblr, so please be nice! >: probably you can tell, but my first language is not english but spanish, so if you spot any spelling mistakes, i apologise in advance lol

i've been obsessed with pedrito for quite a while now, so i thought ― i love writing, i love pedro, and, above everything else, i love love love drama, so why not give in and write some fics? i'm sure i'll find some like-minded people here!

i do appreciate any feedback you may want to share with me, as well as interactions (asks, reblogs, comments, likes, anything really!). also please feel free to drop me a message if there's something you would like me to write, i'm always open to suggestions ♡

please assume all my work is 18+, so mdni! do not repost, translate, nor use my work in any way without my explicit permission either.

i'll try to keep this masterlist as up to date as possible.

love,

arran xx

(find my work under the cut!)

🤭 ― fluff

😳 ― light smut

💘 ― explicit smut

💢 ― dark/sensitive theme

🤕 ― angst

🩸 ― graphic content (violence, gore, etc)

wherever you go

series masterlist - 🤭💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. summary: after the events of 26th september 2003, you find yourself under the wing of the miller brothers. it's the older one who catches your attention, but also the one who drives you fucking crazy. you inevitably find yourself gravitating towards him while trying to navigate this postapocalyptic word you're stuck in, with more than one unpleasant surprise...

uniformed!joel one shots

series masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: uniformed!joel x f!reader. summary: a series of one shots where we get to see the one and only joel miller and all his sides... as long as he's wearing a uniform, ofc. i'm open to any requests you may have, no matter how wild! check #uniformed!joel to see what's already been suggested. come along, don't be shy!

acta, non verba

series masterlist - 🤭😳💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: conqueror!marcus x ofc!reader. summary: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all.

per aspera ad astra

series masterlist - 💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: when your husband dies in battle, his best friend is there to console you, to help you navigate your grief as he does his own. as you become close, feelings flourish. but your father, emperor Traianus, sees Marcus' romantic advances as a way to dethrone him.

the way to a great wide somewhere

read here ; easter eggs - 🤭💘🤕🩸 status: completed. pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story.

when the moon howls

read here - 🤭 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: you meet javier in a café during your sabbatical. you see the man that no one does ― the one who is broken, defeated, crushed by his time as a DEA agent. so you make it your purpose to shine some light on his life, one pumpkin spice latte at a time. -or- the story of how you two fall head over heels for each other c:

when the grief howls

read here - 🤭💢 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. same couple as "when the moon howls". can be read as a oneshot. summary: javi and you go back to yours after your idyllic pumpkin patch date and he stays over. you comfort him when his demons catch up with him.

[wheneverfeasible]

A random plot idea that came to me suddenly. Please feel free to use this idea, just credit me if it inspires you and send a link with any story written!

-

I’ve read a few fics with the premise but it’s like a She’s All That AU where King Steve is bet to make The Freak, Eddie Munson, fall in love with him, or make him popular, or get him to prom so that they can Carrie him. And of course Steve goes along with it because he’s still trying to be what people want him to be or whatever and he doesn’t like it but he does it, only to end up catching feelings for Eddie.

And okay yeah. Cue that heartbreak angst when Eddie finds out. But…BUT…

Imagine that AU but Eddie knows about the bet. They don’t know he knows, but he discovers it quickly. He’s King Freak after all; the gossip gets back to him before the popular jocks even get to putting the plan in motion, or he overhears it himself, or whatever. But he knows.

He knows and he plays along. He lets Steve woo him, acts first like he’s wary and annoyed about the guy, makes him work for it, but he lets himself pretend to fold and accept the dates. Accepts the kissing. Accepts the more.

Because yeah, he knows it’s fake, knows Steve could never actually want him, but he still has King Steve’s mouth around his dick, and he honestly has to congratulate the guy for going so far for a bet. And hell, he’s not going to pass up the chance to see just how good the fabled King is with his dick either.

Eddie figures he’ll have some fantastic sex, eat good food and get some dope gifts like a new amp for his sweetheart all courtesy of Harrington money, and…yeah, okay, even if it’s fake, Steve’s actually pretty good company. And Eddie even makes friends with one of the cheerleaders and isn’t that fucking bizarre but she’s sweet even if her boyfriend is an ass.

And Steve is still friends with his ex and through that he knows some dweeb kids, and damn is Harrington actually kind of good with kids, kind of…nice? And he’s funny in a bitchy kind of way, and his family life actually kind of (a lot of) sucks. And he helps this band geek who was being bullied by one of his teammates, and…and maybe, in another life, Eddie might have thought King Steve was actually a good dude instead of the douchebag he knew he was.

Because this was fake. It’s all just a bet. And Eddie is going to laugh when, after all of this, he gets to pull the final prank on Harrington and all his court. Because he knows it’s fake. He knows Steve doesn’t actually like him. He knows that, even when he laughs in all their faces at the end because he got to fuck King Steve in the ass, he’s going to be leaving it all alone and…and without Steve.

And that’s fine. It’s fake. It’s fine. Steve could and would never actually like him. The King and The Freak. And it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

And the truth is revealed, and Eddie laughs at them because he’s known all along, and Eddie pretends his heart isn’t breaking while Steve does the same. And it’s okay and it’s fine.

Except it isn’t.

But it is fine, because Steve’s ex? That band geeked he helped? Eddie’s cheerleader friend?

By god they’re going to get these two idiots to realize what’s been right in front of their eyes this whole time.

And this is only the beginning of the royal love story of King Hair and King Freak and how they turned Hawkins High upside down.

I guess you could say they really are all that.

-

Tagged: @derythcorvinus

[mournings-stars]

Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>

Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.

Gender neutral reader pls

I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol

If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^

Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!

okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like

you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime

during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you

i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)

luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you

i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more

“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe

you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin

“you’d better hide, little bird”

and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself

he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street

it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place

maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door

of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)

“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen

“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal

your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there

i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go

vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go

that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection

you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice

i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you

vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often

that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room

usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease

it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you

of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them

it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”

i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)

anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here

so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this

you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone

in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back

but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)

i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)

but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)

i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option

i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely

still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam

you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh

so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building

you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door

you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething

even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you

i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home

obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you

if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back

OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him

[absurdthirst]

The Cost of Survival {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.8k

Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, mentions of birth control, oppressive regimes, drinking, adultery, technically prostitution, angsts, heartbreak, loss of limbs, near death, pregnancy

Comments: Growing up on a poor mining planet where the company owns your very existence, Ezra dreams of getting you and him away from it all. Escaping. Resorting to doing the unthinkable to manage it and breaking your heart, there's a high price to be paid.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You lean against the wall, the band playing across the room with instruments passed down through the generations. Your dress is also hand-me-down, shabby, and patched, but it suits you, especially when no one else is dressed much nicer. Your planet is best known for its mines. It provides power to other planets - more prosperous planets - and is well known for the people who occupy the dusty, gritty mountains. Only one mining company owns all the land...and the people. The workers whose fathers and their fathers and their fathers worked the mines. No one escapes the planet. No one makes it rich enough to leave. Especially when the company owns the houses and the stores. Every credit made by the workers goes back into the company's pocket. Your father works the mines, back aching daily as he fights his aging bones to provide for his family. You want more than this gritty existence; you want to escape, to do the impossible. There's some education for women, mainly nursing, to assist the doctors with the gruesome wounds men would receive from the deadly mines. You lean against the wall, watching several couples dancing, and you sigh, not seeing him watching you from across the room. Ezra. You've known him since you were in school together. Most men left school early to enter the mines, but he stayed a little longer, wanting to learn more about literature, and you admired his reluctance to tow the company line. He was rebellious, and you secretly loved that.

You are a sight for grimy, dust-filled eyes. Ezra’s own outfit is barely much better than your own. An old suit that his father had been married in. The only reason he hadn’t been buried in it was that his tomb was a sealed-off section of the mine after an unfortunate blowout. You look bored and he smirks slightly, thinking that you are like an unappreciated flower, overlooked and forgotten. Not by him. He would never forget a beauty so fair that it steals his breath away. The only reason he had come tonight was to get a glimpse of you and perhaps try to convince you to take a turn on the floor with him.

You sip your drink, some kind of off-brand juice that one of the more prosperous planets had turned down, and you set the empty cup down just as a pair of scruffy boots appear in your eyeline while you stare at the floor. Your eyes flick up to find Ezra standing in front of you. Your eyes widen, and you glance beside you to see if he’s here to speak to someone prettier, but his dark eyes meet yours as you brave looking at his face. “Good evenin’.” He greets you, and you fluster, “hi. I- I didn’t think you’d be here tonight. Didn’t think this was your scene.” You say, shifting from one foot to the other as your nerves make the juice slosh in your stomach.

“Didn’t think I would make an appearance, but the thought of dancing convinced me.” He flashes you a slight grin and loves the way you fluster slightly. You’re nervous, and it matches the same butterflies in his own stomach, hopefully. “Shall we, little bird?” He asks, holding out his hand to you.

You are surprised, your eyes dropping to his hand, and you don’t hesitate to take it. You are shocked that he wants to dance with you, but you accept his invitation, and he escorts you onto the dance floor. Your hand grips his, your other hand finds his shoulder, finding the beat, and his smile is infectious as he swings you around the dance floor. A giggle fills your throat as he leads you around the floor, almost bumping into other couples. Your smile almost makes your face hurt as he sways you around, and you cling to him, laughing in joy as your troubles are momentarily lifted from your shoulders.

The sound of your giggle enthralls him, making him grin even though he’s decidedly not the best dancer. He is better with his hands than his feet. “Your smile is infectious.” He coos, puffing up like a peacock because he is escorting the prettiest girl around the floor. “Soon, the entire room will catch.”

You shake your head with a wry smile, leaning against him slightly as the song ends, and you reluctantly let go of his hands to applaud the band. "Thank you for the dance, Ezra." You say softly, and the band begins to play again, something slower. You prepare to walk off to lean against the wall again, but Ezra captures your hand, dragging you back towards him and into his chest. His eyes meet yours once more as he wraps his arm around your waist, starting to sway you to the slower song. Your heart pounds in your chest, you swear he can feel it, and you know this dance changes everything.

Ezra has learned that he can spout a pretty phrase. Some might call him talkative or a yapper, but he’s now silent. He is taking in your beauty and memorizing this moment. His crush on you is blooming into full romance and he wishes that he were rich so he could dress you in fine clothes and bring you flowers every day. “You strike me mute, little bird.” He whispers after a moment. “I am the most fortunate soul here tonight, holding someone of such profound grace.”

You fluster at his compliments, “you’re mute? A rare event.” You tease, your fingers flexing around his, and you clear your throat. “You flatter me, Ez. I am - I am the lucky one. Every girl in here tonight wants your attention. Including Dotty.” You look over to the company owner’s daughter. She’s part of one of two wealthy families in town.

“She doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Ezra insists. Despite her family affluence, he's never been one to want the slightly older girl. He was aware that he would always be considered less than, despite his lengthy verbiage. “You are the lovely siren who has captured my attention and leads me towards the treacherous rocky shoals of love.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, and you offer him a shy smile. “I must admit…my feelings are - I have been quite enamored with you since we were in school together.” You reveal, biting your lip. Ezra is older than you by a couple of years, and you would’ve thought that Dotty would be more his type. His ambition to succeed is well-known in the town. Wanting more from life than to work the mines like his daddy did. “I didn’t think - I thought you considered me as nothing more than a friend.”

“Little bird, I have been remiss in expressing the extent of my affections because I have been afraid of the cold dread of rejection.” He admits softly, his eyes staring into yours. “Tonight, though? The double moons are shining, and there is a hope in my heart that you would take pity on a lowly mortal such as myself and shower me with a sliver of your affection.”

You inhale sharply at his sweet words, your heart pounding in your chest, and you nod, “I- I would love to love you, Ezra.” You promise him, “you want to find somewhere quiet?” You ask, and he nods, taking your hand to escort you off the dance floor and outside the hall. The air is dusty, and you cough slightly. Most citizens of your home didn’t survive for as long as people on other planets as they inhaled the fumes and dust from the mines. You turn towards Ezra after he guides you to a secluded spot behind the hall, and you feel giddy. Leaning in, you cup his cheek and caress his stubbled skin. “I love you, Ez.” You murmur, wanting him to know how you feel. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him in school. His vivacious vocabulary and the ambition he tries to conceal to not get into too much trouble with the powers that be. You love all of him.

“I love you too, little bird.” Ezra promises you, lunging forward to press his lips to yours as gently as he can manage even though his heart is beating out of his chest. Overjoyed that you share his affections, he pulls you closer to him, groaning against your lips. Kissing them over and over again before he pulls away. “I can assure you that the extent of my feelings is no passing fancy; I would have nothing more than a future laid out with you. Making our fortunes off this wretched rock and living a life of love and laughter together.”

**** 

You look out the window, washing the dishes from making dinner that is cooking on the stove, when you see him. He’s covered in soot and grime, his smile wide as he sees you through the tatty curtains in the small window. You return his smile, looking forward to seeing him after he’s been at work. “Hi, baby.” You coo as he walks into your shared home. Since he started working for the company, he was given his place. It’s small, but it’s big enough for both of you.

“Hey, little bird.” He is exhausted and upset, but you lift his spirits. “You are a sight for sore and gritty eyes.” He’s too dirty to touch you, so he settles for a small kiss as you take his lunch pail from him. Rather than eat at the company store and accumulate more credits he can’t pay, you fix him lunch to take every day. “Let me clean up, and I’ll kiss you like you deserve.”

“Let me run you a bath, my love. You must be aching after a long day.” You declare, knowing how your father would groan as he sat down in his chair after working all day. He nods, and you walk into the bathroom to turn on the faucet in the tub. The water is brown at first then clears before you put the plug in. You grab the bar of soap and the rags you washed earlier by hand, setting up the tub for him to wash off the day's grime. He kicks off his boots by the door, shrugging out of his overalls, and he walks into the bathroom; his hands and face are still dirty but his clothing covered the rest of him. “Nearly ready.” You offer him a soft smile, “I have dinner cooking too. Won’t be too long.”

“You are too good to me.” Ezra groans as he steps into the bath. The hot water heater is too costly to run, so the water is never boiling unless you boil it on the stove. This would cost you fuel, so Ezra settles for a cool bath. “Fuckin’ mine raised their quotas again.” He huffs as he sits down, hissing slightly at the water.

You shake your head, reaching for the rag to wet it in the water so you can clean his back. He can never reach it properly. “Again? Kevva, it’s - it’s too much. You can’t keep up with that.” You murmur with a frown, “we could always move in with my parents. I mean, the company gave us this home without us being married; we could pretend to split up and move in with my parents without the bosses knowing.” You suggest, wanting to make things easier even if it means living back home. Not having the privacy to be together like you want. It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make if it means he suffers less.

“No.” Ezra shakes his head immediately, dirt falling off of him and into the water. “I can provide for my girl. Ain’t no way that I will live off your father breaking his back and hold my head up.” He tells you stubbornly. “I just need to up my production. Maybe explore a few of the new veins.”

You sigh, continuing to wash him and you are worried he’s working himself into an early grave. “Ezra…I don’t - I am working on my nursing degree. I’m nearly done. Then we have another income. I’ll work at the company hospital.” You say, wanting to assure him that you will be helping so he doesn’t work himself to the bone.

“Little bird, I am hoping that at some point, we are off this confounded rock.” Ezra admits, looking down as the water starts to turn black. “I wish to show you the stars up close. To make sure you never have to work yourself to the grave in order to keep our babies bellies full when Kevva graces us with children.”

You smile softly at his promise and the thought of children. His children. You sigh and rub his back, “you gotta make an honest woman of me first.” You teasingly remind him, “or are you going to keep me in our home in sin?” You joke and wash his back.

“I’ll keep you however I can keep you.” Ezra promises. “The marriage license is almost a full day's wages.” He reveals quietly. “I’ve nearly got that saved up. Maybe another week?” He tells you. “It includes a ring, but I want to get you something better than the piece of tin they provide.”

You reach up to caress his dirty cheek, “baby. I would wait a lifetime to marry you.” You promise, “I’m only teasing. I - I just can’t wait to be yours. Completely yours.” You murmur and lean over the edge of the tub to kiss his now clean cheek.

Ezra smirks, wrapping his arm around you and dragging you into the water with him, laughing when you screech. “I love you, little bird.” He promises. “Even when you are soaking wet.”

You can’t be mad at him when he drags you into the tub with him. “You love me when I’m soaking wet.” You smirk, running your fingers through his wet hair as he cradles your body in the tub.

“I do.” He growls playfully. “Because you get so wet for me.” Leaning in, Ezra bites your neck, his semi-hard cock getting harder underneath you as he runs his hands down to grab your ass.

You moan and turn your head to press your lips to his, groaning as his fingers dig into your flesh. “Ezra, my love.” You whimper, grinding down onto him and you grow wetter for him, wanting him to fuck you now that he’s home.

“You want some attention, little bird?” As tired as he is, he will never deny you. Wanting you as much as he needs to breathe. “Why don’t I show you what I was thinking about doing to you while I was working?” He grunts, pushing you up onto the edge of the tub and fighting with the wet material of your dress to reach your soaked and threadbare panties underneath.

You gasp when he rips the panties clean off of your body. You know you’d be annoyed at wasting one of the scarce pairs of panties you own if you weren’t so turned on. He tosses the wet material onto the floor and pushes your legs open, making you moan his name as his hands trail along your wet thighs. “Ez, please.” You beg him sweetly, needing to feel more of him. You never seem to get enough of him. When his tongue slides through your folds after he leans in towards your cunt, a low groan escapes your lips and his dark eyes meet yours when he starts his mission to make you cum on his tongue.

Every time he tastes you, Ezra becomes a little more obsessed. The musky, tangy taste of your cunt, mixed with the uniqueness of your skin tastes like the sweet cakes that were a treat on rare occasions. He grips your thighs, holding them open so he can lick deeper. Groaning into your folds as he devours you.

Your fingers find balance on the edge of the tub and you moan as his tongue slides through your folds and flicks over your clit. “Oh Ez.” You whimper, loving the way he groans into your flesh, vibrating against your clit. He gets better and better with each time he touches you. He was your first, not too long after the dance together at the hall when you proclaimed your love.

Ezra groans as he tries to write a sonnet into your cunt, his tongue the pen and your folds the paper. Loving how you just shake and moan for him. He slides his hands along your thigh, now clean from the grime and soot of the day to press two thick fingers inside you.

You moan, pushing his head deeper into your pussy as he laps at your clit, his fingers curling deep enough to make you whine his name and you rock your hips up into his face. “Shit, baby. I- it’s always so good.”

He grunts in response, wishing he could talk while he eats your cunt but he can only show you what he feels. Groaning as he curls his fingers up and pumps them in and out of you.

You pant, eyes closing as he pushes you over the edge. You clamp down on his fingers and cry out his name, your fingers tugging on his hair until your grip softens as you ride your orgasm. Pulling turning to running your fingers through his wet strands. “I love you, baby.” You murmur, blissed out.

“Love you too.” He promises, looking at you in adoration as he pulls his fingers out of you and smirks, feeling how wet they are with your juices. “Are you up to more, little bird?” As voracious as he is for you, he always checks to make sure you want sex after you cum.

You nod, shifting into the tub to straddle him, and you reach for your now soaked dress, dragging it off of your body and tossing it onto the floor where it plops. “I am always aching for more of you, baby.” You promise, reaching down to wrap your fingers around his cock.

Ezra groans, cock throbbing in your hand and he rocks his hips up. “Fuck, baby, I love the way you love my cock.” He pants softly. “Your touch burns me to my very soul.”

His words are always so poetic. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you shift up onto your knees so you can position yourself above his cock. The water is dirty but you don’t care as you start to sink down on him. He stretches you out but you take him so well after so many nights spent in each other’s arms. “I love you.” You murmur, caressing his cheeks as you take all of him inside of you.

“You are my sun and stars.” Ezra chokes out, closing his eyes as your cunt wraps around his cock. “The goddess that I worship, the only deity I will ever pray to, Kevva forgive me.” He hisses when you clench around him. “The light from which I draw my very existence from.”

You caress his cheeks down to his chest, feeling his heart thumping under your palm. Your pussy flutters around his cock as his hands slide along your spine. “My love.” You murmur, “you’re my world. This fucking planet won’t rule us. We will - we will conquer it.” You lean in to press your lips to his.

Ezra groans against your lips, feeling like he is the king of the world right now with you perched on his cock and vowing your love. He squeezes your ass and rocks you up, encouraging you to move. Desperate to feel you fall apart for him.

You whimper at the way he feels inside of you. Your first and last lover. You rock on top of him, gripping the sides of the tub for leverage as you want to see him fall apart beneath you. “Fuck. You feel so good inside of me, Ez.” You pant, clenching around him.

“That’s ’cause I’m yours.” Ezra pants out. “Completely yours. Always yours.” He is yours, his heart is so completely given to you, that he will do anything to make you happy and comfortable.

You love hearing him proclaim that he’s yours. You moan his name as he twitches inside of you, your fingers gripping the edge of the tub as you move faster, working yourself up to an orgasm.

You are so close. He has fucked you enough that he can tell by the way you moan. He leans down and pulls your nipple into his mouth and sucks harshly.

You moan his name again, one hand tangling in his hair as you rock a little faster. “Oh fuck baby.” You whine, so so close. He bites down on your nipple and it sends you over the edge. You cry out, eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him while you shake above him.

Ezra moans your name, twitching inside you. So close to cumming himself from the sheer force of your walls contracting around him. “Fuck, fuck baby.” He grunts, gritting his teeth and holding you tighter and he starts to rock up into you frantically, spilling the dirty water onto the floor in his haste. “Fuck!” His strangled cry is cut off when he buries his cock deep to pump you full of his hot seed, thankful for the implant in your arms to keep you from having a child just yet.

You love the way he fills you up, making you relax above him, and you caress his neck as he twitches inside of you. A low groan escaping his lips as he kisses along your neck and you sigh in bliss. “Kevva, I love you.” You murmur, knowing you’ll be lost without him.

“I adore you. Worship you, bow down at the preverbal altar of your grace. Obsessed with you.” Ezra murmurs between kisses. “You are my purpose, little bird.” He promises. “Without you, I would be a floater, adrift and alone.”

You sigh, a smile on your face as you look at him in bliss. “I can’t wait to marry you, Ez.” You murmur and he pulls back to look at you, “any day now.” He promises, making your smile widen. You caress his cheeks and reach for the soap. “Now I gotta clean you up again.” You tease, lathering up your hands. Ezra chuckles and your heart clenches, filled with love.

****

You squeeze his hands as he looks at you with adoration, his mother’s ring on your finger as he says his vows. You had told him you didn’t care if you even had a ring, you simply wanted to be his wife, but he’d worked hard and his mother decided to give him her ring that she treasured after her husband was killed in the mines. His mother and your parents watch as you exchange vows and when you’re pronounced as husband and wife, you surge forward to press your lips to Ezra’s. He spins you and dips you while you kiss, making you gasp in shock then giggle against his lips. When he steadies you when you’re upright, you cup his cheek, “I can’t believe I’m your wife. Finally.”

“I have been blessed by Kevva.” Ezra hums, smiling like he has won the lottery. “I promise that we will be rich, little bird. We will not live and die on this miserable little rock for too much longer.”

You shake your head, “it - if it never happens, I won’t be upset because I have you, my love. As long as I have you.” You promise, and he nods, but you don’t see the look in his eyes. The determination. Your parents come over to congratulate you until the officiant gets you over to sign your marriage certificate, the company logo on the stamp. They even own your marriage. You don’t hesitate to sign, wanting to belong to Ezra, not giving a shit about the company. You will both work hard to achieve the impossible, no matter what it takes.

****

“Mongrel, fucking Jack-knifed thieving, sons of cunts!” Ezra slams the door opened, scowling fiercely as he throws the pail that you pack his lunches on across the room. Startling you so much that you jump from where you are studying for an exam, but he doesn’t pay that any mind as he starts to pace. “Ezra! What’s-“ 

Ezra growls, shoving a dirty hand through his hair. “They’ve cut the value of the fucking mineral.” He hisses. “Down to about a quarter of what it was. Now you need to mine three times as much to keep the same fucking credits coming in.” He stops in the middle of the floor, utterly defeated. “They ain’t lowering their credits for shit, though, greedy bastards.”

Your eyes widen, “they haven’t! They - oh Kevva.” You feel a little sick. How are you going to pay for the house? How will you eat? The company owns everything, even your marriage. You shake your head, “baby. I- oh Kevva.” You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his cheeks.

Ezra feels defeated. “We’ve got to get off this rock.” He tells you, his tone flat. “They’re gonna kill us, work us to our graves if we don’t.” His mother has already passed, just two weeks ago, slowly withering away from the dust in her lungs after a lifetime here. “They are bleeding us of our very marrow, little bird.”

“What can we do, Ez?” You ask him hopelessly, shaking your head. You feel defeated, like you’re never going to get away from the company that owns you. “I- I am nearly done with my degree. Once I have that I can apply for a job off planet and then we can leave here.”

“We won’t make it until then.” Ezra has crunched the number and crunched the numbers after hearing the announcement. “I’m going to see if there’s something that can be done.” He decides, looking you in the eyes. “Whatever it takes.”

You look at him, shaking your head again in despair and you know he will do what it takes to make sure you survive. “I know, baby.” You murmur, staring out of the window at the smog.

“I’m gonna shower and change.” Ezra tells you. “Don’t worry about dinner, little bird.” He reaches up and chucks your chin lovingly. “I’ll be home too late to eat.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Have a good time with Jasper.” You tell him, knowing he needs a night out with his friend to relax. “I’ll be waiting for you.” You wink and he smirks.

****

You glance over at the clock, a frown on your face at how late it is. You’re worried about Ezra. Worried that something has happened to him. You bite your lip, shifting in your bed as you wait for your husband to get home. You usually wouldn’t stay up so late to wait for him but it’s way past the time he said he’d be home.

Ezra frowns into his glass of liquor, it's more credits that he doesn't have, but luckily it's cheaper than most. "I just don't understand what these blood-sucking mongers expect from us." He grumbles, not for the first time. "Gotta get off this heap." He tells his best friend. "Need credits to get away. Me and little bird."

Jasper sighs, shaking his head as he sips the whiskey that cost a whole day of work. “I don’t know how you’re gonna do it, man. They have us by the short and curlies. Everything we make, we put back into their pocket and we don’t get nothing for the back breaking work. This fuckin’ planet is killin’ us and - and I want you to get off of this shit rock, brother. You and your lady deserve it.” Jasper finishes just as Dotty comes over to the bar, her cleavage pronounced as she leans against the sticky counter. “Fancy seeing you here, Ezra.” She coos, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Hey, Dotty." Ezra mumbles, finding it hard not to be annoyed at the appearance of one of the richest people on the fucking planet. Her family held more credits than the entire workforce of miners here combined. It was un-fucking-fair. "What are you doing slumming it here with all the 'ner do wells?" He snorts before he takes a sip of his drink.

She giggles, “decided to come here and see if I could find someone to entertain me for the night.” She says, her eyes flirtatious as she trails them along Ezra’s form. “I haven’t had any offers…yet.” She smirks, “but I would turn them all away if I knew I could have you.”

Dotty has been less than inconspicuous in her attempts at cajoling Ezra into her bed. He shakes his head and sends her a rueful grin. “Married, Dot. Remember?” He tells you, wishing he could afford a ring for himself to hold up to signify his married status. Hell, he couldn't even afford you a ring. The only reason you had one was because of someone giving up their own token. “You could have any guy here. Why would you lower yourself to settle on me?”

Dotty scoffs, “married…to that nobody. I could make you somebody here, handsome. You’d be the king of the planet. I want you, Ezra. And I’m willing to pay to have you in my bed. Ten thousand credits. All you have to do is give me one night.” She says, fluttering her eyelashes to make herself look more enticing while she’s trying to bribe Ezra into fucking her.

Ten thousand credits. Ezra’s eyes widen at the amount Dotty is willing to pay. It would be enough to move off planet with you. To get away. Still, he shakes his head, “I’m afraid I will have to decline such a generous offer.” He tells her. Looking down at his drink he sighs.

Dotty pouts at the man who just turned down her offer but his friend nods in admiration. “Whatever. It’s your loss.” She says and struts off to sit back down at her table with her equally rich cousin. Jasper shakes his head, “I admire you for turning down the offer, Ez. Not many men would turn down a free night with Dotty, let alone one they are being paid for. Good for you. I gotta get back, my lady has been having trouble getting to sleep without me there. I’ll see you on Monday, my friend.” Jasper slaps Ezra on the shoulder and pays his tab, leaving the bar. “Check, please.” Ezra asks the bartender who nods, setting down the check that is more than Ezra expected it to be.

“How the hell is it this much?” Ezra frowns at the paper, wondering how the hell he is going to pay this. “It’s three times more than it should be!” The bartender shrugs. “Prices went up.” He tells Ezra, who growls and balls up the tab. He doesn’t have this kind of money. The credits in his pocket needed to pay for the food bill at the store. “Kevva forsaken mother fuckers.” He hisses, rubbing a hand through his hair.

Dotty sways her hips as she comes back over to the bar, seeing Ezra’s frustrations. “Put it on my tab.” She says, knowing Ezra can’t afford the new prices her father approved for the liquor. She doesn’t necessarily agree with her father’s plans to bleed his workers dry but she benefits from it, able to buy whatever she wants. She goes off planet to shop and for education. Ezra shakes his head, about to protest but she leans in, her cleavage pushed even higher. “Come on, handsome. I know my daddy’s quotas are killing you. I know you want to leave this place. Take my offer. Kevva, I’ll double it. Twenty thousand credits for one night. I just want to experience you, your cock. I won’t mention a word of it. One night and you and your little rag doll are free from this place.” She offers with a smirk on her lips.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but the offer is almost enough. “Thirty thousand.” He levels her a dirty look. “If I’m going to tarnish my vows to my wife, it needs to be worth it. Let me take her off world and give her whatever she desires.”

Dotty nods, a sly smirk on her face as she holds her hand out towards Ezra. “We have a deal, baby.” She coos and squeezes his hand when he reluctantly holds it out. She can see the hesitation in his eyes but she knows she can win him over with money and with sex. She just needs a night to prove to him that she’s better than you. Her daddy can cancel your marriage as easily as a signature. Then she can marry Ezra and have her happy ending. You’ll be nothing when she’s done with him. “Let’s go, handsome. Tab is paid.” The bartender nods and she grabs her purse, “you ready to come home with me?”

Ezra wants to say no, but he tells himself that he is doing this for you. For your future. He knows that there is no way he would ever get that kind of money together. “One night.” He reminds her. “And you give me the credits before.” He feels slightly dirty, basically selling himself.

Dotty nods and takes his hand as she guides him out of the bar with a smirk on her face. She’s going to get what she wants. Finally.

****

You look over at the clock, worried about Ezra. You haven’t slept and he hasn’t come home. You tried calling Jasper but there was no answer. You tried calling the bar. No one is answering and you’re terrified something bad has happened to your husband. You swallow down your tears as you try to hold yourself together, wondering if he ended up sleeping at Jasper’s but why wouldn’t he call you to check in? You give up on sleep and get out of bed, heading into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. You pick up the tin of grounds and choke when you discover it’s empty. You toss it down on the counter, a sob escaping your lips just as the front door opens and Ezra walks in. Your eyes widen and you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh baby. I was so worried. I thought something had happened to you.”

Ezra is exhausted and feeling guilty, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight. “I’m fine, little bird.” He promises, pulling away and smiling at you in delight. “Go and pack your things, we are leaving this festering pile of refuse and never looking back.” He pulls out the wad of credits that Dotty had given him, all thirty thousand of them and shows you. “Our luck has changed.”

Your eyes widen at the credits in his hand. “Where - how did you get this?” You ask, confused and concerned that he sold something or did something reckless to more credits than you could earn in ten years. “What - where have you been?” You question, confusion etched into your features as you stare at your husband, not moving from your spot.

“Little bird, I assure you that nothing was done without the most noble of intentions.” He placates. “I was offered the sum in exchange for my time.” He’s not telling you the entire truth, but it’s better that you not know. It would upset you and you wouldn’t understand that it was merely physical for Ezra. He had not even cared about his own satisfaction and had to think of you to even cum.

Your frown deepens, “your time? You- you’ve been out all night. No one has a job in the middle of the night? Unless it’s…unless you whored yourself out.” You joke, chuckling but he doesn’t laugh with you, his eyes a little pained. “Wait…you didn’t - Ezra?” You question, feeling your chest tighten.

Ezra shuffles slightly, feeling that sense of dread harden in his stomach. “We would never have escaped here. They are killing us.” He tells you adamantly. “I was offered ten thousand and it wasn’t enough. Not enough to give you, us, the start somewhere else that we deserve.” He steps towards you and hates when you step back. “Little bird….I did this for us.”

You shake your head, feeling sick, "who did you - Dotty. Tell me it wasn't Dotty." You plead despite knowing deep down it's the truth. She's the woman who has always wanted your husband and she has that kind of money.

“It doesn’t matter. I promise you, little bird, nothing that transpired meant anything to me.” He still won’t come out and say it. “All that matters is that you and I can leave, to create a life for ourselves together.”

Your eyes widen at his thinly veiled confession and you feel sick. You shake your head, “nnn-no. I- oh Kevva. You - you and Dotty.” You choke, turning from him and you shrug him off when he touches your shoulder. “Little bird, please-” You shake your head and turn to look him in the eye. “Get out. Now. Get the fuck out!” You scream, shoving his chest. Your heart breaking in your own.

Ezra feels defeated, broken. Giving up so much of himself for you. You just need time, you will see why he sacrificed himself. “I-I’ll go.” He steps back, dropping the credits on the ground. “You will understand why I acted on the offer when the weight of their wants crush us.” He vows, turning around and walking out. He needs to plan your exit from this place, that will give you time to cool down.

You stare at him as he walks out and when the door shuts behind him, you collapse to the floor, sobs leaving your lips. You’re devastated. He cheated on you for money. He cheated on you with Dotty. You sob until your head hurts and you curl into a ball, numb from the pain of Ezra’s betrayal. It’s more than you can bear. You don’t care about the money, you would live under a bridge if you were with Ezra. Nothing mattered but loving him.

Everyone he knows is at work, toiling away. He walks along the empty streets towards the transport office. Wanting to reserve two seats on the next shuttle off planet. Wondering why you are acting like this? He had told you he would do whatever it took to provide for you, and now he’s done it. He’s given you a way off this miserable heap.

You sniff as you gather yourself, not wanting Dotty to defeat you completely. You wipe your eyes as you fold your laundry, wondering what underwear Dotty wears. Nicer ones than you, that’s for sure. You don’t look up as the door opens and Ezra walks in. You don’t look at him, continuing to fold the laundry. “I got us two tickets for tomorrow. We leave first thing to the Pug.” He says, “then we can figure out where to go from there.” You don’t answer. “You going to start packing?” He asks, his voice cutting through you enough that you turn to look at him. “I’m not going with you.”

“What? Of course you are.” Ezra scoffs, waiting for you to tell him that you are joking. “Little bird, this has been our dream. To leave this place and now we are.” His frown deepens when you turn back to folding the threadbare clothes that are more patches than original material. “Come on.” He rushes over and grabs the panties you are folding. “We don’t have time for this shit.”

You snap, “this shit? I have always wanted to leave this place but - but not like this. Not because you fucked another woman. I don’t - it’s not the right way, Ezra. I wanted us to leave together knowing we worked hard to get out. You- you betrayed me. You broke our vows. I love you but I can’t go with you. Not like this.” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes.

“You have to come.” Ezra snaps back. “I did this for you! You think I wanted to touch her? To climb into her bed? No, never, but I couldn’t afford our next rent payment!” He bellows, throwing the panties down and venting his frustrations. “I would not see you starving or begging, so I did what I had to do to provide for you! Just like I vowed to!”

You toss another pair of underwear at him. “You cheated on me, Ez! You touched another woman. You broke our vows. You - you betrayed me. You have ruined our marriage. I would rather starve. I’d rather beg. Knowing I have you, completely, that I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s all that mattered. We would be together no matter what we faced but you destroyed that. You fucked another woman!” You scream at him, “you destroyed us!”

“You think I wanted her? That I enjoyed myself?” Ezra snorts. “I sacrificed my body to give you the life that you could never have without that.” He takes a shuddering breath. “I love you, little bird. I love you so much that I did something repugnant for you, for us. I know you are mad, but this place is killing me. I nearly died three days ago, I feel like I’m expiring every time I descend into that mine. Leave with me.” He begs, his face turning to one of desperation. “Please, my love, my goddess, please.”

You choke on a sob, knowing that this is the end. You can never trust him again. Even if you forgive him. “I- I can’t, Ez. I can’t. You - you betrayed me. I can’t trust you anymore. Even if I forgive you, I could never trust you again.” You tell him, reaching up to slide his mother’s ring off of your fingers. Walking over to him, you grab his hand and gently place the ring in his palm, turning his fingers over it to keep it secure.

“Don’t do this.” Ezra chokes out. “Please- Don’t- you don’t want-“ he drops the ring to the floor and stumbles back. “I’m leaving.” He tells you. “Tomorrow. You- you’ll change your mind.” He nods, looking around the little company owned house frantically. “I know you will. You love me and I love you. That’s all that matters.” He scoops up some of the credits and shoves them in his pocket. “I- I’ll give you tonight to think about this. To let you cool down more.” He looks at you and there’s a strange light in his eyes, like he’s unable to face reality. “You’ll be there.” He tells himself and turns to walk out again.

You know he won’t accept you breaking up with him, but he has to. You can’t leave with him. You swallow harshly, shaking your head as he shuts the door behind him and you pick up the ring and the credits, wanting to keep them for him to take tomorrow. You have nearly finished your degree, only a few weeks left. Once that’s done, you’ll move off planet and make a new start. Without your husband. You wipe your tears, wondering if Ezra will change his mind on leaving or if he’s gone forever. You won’t be there to meet him at the station.

****

Ezra waits. His leg is bouncing as he watches the door of the terminal. He’s biting his lip and praying to Kevva to see your figure dash through the lobby in search of him. Needing to have you with him. “Sir?” He turns his head to find an attendant giving him a small smile. “I’m afraid the transport is calling for final boarding.” She explains and he swallows harshly. “I’m coming.” He says, standing up and looking back at the door one last time. You aren’t here and he can’t wait another week for the next transport. With a heavy heart, Ezra turns and walks away, heading for the transport off planet and away from the woman he loves.

You stare out of the window, the transporter lifting into the air and disappearing into the smog above. You close your eyes, knowing Ezra is on it. He’s left the planet, he’s left you. You know it’s for the best but your heart breaks.

****

“We have a patient. It’s an emergency.” You hear your name and look up at your matron, setting down your drink and you stand up, brushing down your scrubs. You rush down the hall of the Pug hospital to the room where the patient is and storm in, ready to assist. “He’s severely dehydrated and is missing an arm. It’s been removed poorly. He has sepsis. We need to move fast before he is beyond saving.” The other nurse tells you and you nod, pulling on gloves as you come over to the patient. You don’t recognize him at first, he’s older and looks haggard but you know that scar on his cheek. The one he got as a kid when he was in a fight because someone stole his lunch. “Ezra.” You gasp, knowing your husband despite it being so many years.

Ezra fever is climbing, sweat covering his body and he knows it’s a hallucination. “Little bird.” He croaks out, eyes bloodshot and fixed on you for a moment before they roll back in his head. His body slumps and alarms start to blare from where he was hooked up to monitors. “Save him!” Cee rushes into the room, her face almost panicked as she imagines losing the man who had protected her and she had also protected.

“Get her in the waiting room.” You demand and one of the other nurses takes Cee away, murmuring to her. Your heart is pounding as you fight to keep Ezra alive. Calling out to the others to get you what you need as you work to resuscitate him. “Don’t give up. Don’t you dare go like this.” You hiss at him as you pump his chest.

Adrift, Ezra is back where he always dreams of when he is happy, lonely, hurt or scared - in your arms. "I love you, little bird." He coos, kissing your lips again and again as he sighs. Feeling almost nothing but the supreme bliss of your love as you stroke his back and sides as you beam up at him. "I love you." You whisper back, making his heart thump with joy.

You panic, working hard to save him and when he stabilizes, you exhale shakily and continue working to save his life. When he’s stable and put into a private room at your request, you caress his cheek. The machines beep and reassure you he’s alive as you stare at the man you’ve always loved, even when you hated him. “Where have you been?” You ask, wondering where he has been spending his time. After he left your home planet, you realized you loved him more than any one mistake. Understanding that he did it for you, for your life together. Even if you were hurt and upset, you left the next week on the very next transporter to try and find him at the Pug but there was no sign of him. That was strands ago and you gave up trying to find your husband. His mother’s ring is on a chain around your neck, close to your heart. You don’t notice the girl coming into the room with your colleague until it’s too late and you pull your hand away.

"Do you know him?" Cee asks, her eyes focused on Ezra as he sleeps and then she looks back at you. "I- we- are you his daughter?" You ask, horrified that he might have fathered a child with someone when he left. Anything was possible. "No." The girl laughs and shakes her head. "He saved my life." She tells her. "After he killed my father. Or maybe it was when he did?" She tells you. "I'm Cee."

You are confused, trying to keep up with her story. You tell her your name, “I’m - I am Ezra’s wife. We are from the same planet. He left after - well, it’s a long story.” You sigh, eyes drifting to his arm. “What happened to his arm?” You ask the girl, wondering if she has the answer.

"I shot him." She admits, biting her lip. "After he killed my father. He came to the Pod. Trying to leave the Green. I was scared and I shot him. It festered and I had to cut off his arm."

You nod, understanding that she must’ve been scared. Ezra looks so weathered, a man who fought hard to survive and that upsets you. You should’ve been there beside him. “Kevva.” You murmur to yourself, sliding your hand down to take his in yours. Wanting to feel connected to him while you can until he wakes up and hates you for not meeting him that day. You’d confronted Dotty after Ezra left, returning her money, and she told you that it took some convincing to get Ezra into her bed. That he had moaned your name when he came. That’s what made you follow him.

“His wife.” Cee frowns and bites her lip. “He- everything we had was left on the Green.” She tells you quietly. “His case of aurelac. I couldn’t go back and get it. I almost couldn’t get him into the transport.” She admits, remembering how worried she had been. “I’m sorry. But- he- he protected me. Told me to leave him, but I couldn’t.”

You inhale sharply, “he nearly - oh Ez.” You sigh, leaning in to press your lips to his forehead. His monitors continue to beep and you are reassured that he’s okay for now. Cee watches you, “he mentioned you. Said he wanted to get the Aurelac to get credits the right way. Go back and find you.” She says and your throat tightens, “I- Kevva.” You shake your head at the time you’ve lost with him.

Ezra can hear you. The sweet cadence of your voice is nearly a faint memory at this point. The last time he had heard your voice was that horrible day where he had ruined his life. Nothing had much damn meaning since leaving the mining world, and you, behind. He had lied, cheated, stolen, killed and literally fucked in his vain attempts to earn enough credits to come back and win your acceptance back. Never really making enough to do that just now, he’s utterly failed. So it’s fitting that you are haunting his dreams, enticing him with the treasure he had once had in you and never would again.

Your shift ends but you don’t go home, sitting at his bedside while Cee sleeps in the chair in the corner. You think about the years you’ve lost together, the life you could’ve shared if you’d followed him off planet. You were younger, in love, and devastated by his betrayal. A betrayal he made to secure a better life for you. He sacrificed himself for you and your marriage, even if he tossed your vows aside. Now you’re older, more experienced, and you understand why he did it. The desperation he was feeling. You forgave him a long time ago, but you’ve never forgiven yourself for not going with him, for abandoning your husband. You hold his hand, listening to the machines beep, waiting for him to wake up.

The dust had taken its toll on Ezra, the nearly pure oxygen pumping through the breathing tubes in his nose helping to clear the buildup inside him. He had been trapped down on the Green for a long time before stumbling upon Damon and Cee. Now his body heals, sleeping heavily as it tries to heal itself. Feeling a squeeze on his hand every now and then, making him twitch slightly and he finally sighs softly, mumbling your name.

Your eyes widen, swearing you heard your name from his lips, and you lean in towards him. “Ezra, my love. I want you to wake up for me now.” You murmur, caressing his forehead and brushing his hair back, that signature blonde piece making your heart twist at the memories of playing with it when you were together.

You are calling to him. The sleep is trying to drag him back under, but he fights it, wanting to be with you. His eyes start to move under his lids and he groans quietly. “Come with me.” He begs, back in that little row house on the mining planet he was born on. “I love you. I’m sorry. I can never express my regret.” He whimpers in his sleep.

Your eyes widen at his sleepy confession, your heart pounding in your chest, and tears sting in your eyes. “I know. I know, my darling. I just need you to wake up for me now. Let me see those gorgeous eyes. The eyes that haunt me. Please.” You beg with a whimper, wanting to see him, to know he’s okay.

“Little bird?” His eyes flutter open slowly. Heavy and closing again only for him to try again. “Have I expired?” He croaks out softly when he catches sight of you and then his eyes close again. Battling them to see his beloved wife. “I must be in heaven if I am reunited with you.”

He hums. “Though I surely am deserving of hell.”

You shake your head, “you have survived. You’re alive. Just open your eyes and see.” You urge, squeezing his hand, “I want to look at you, baby.” You are relieved that he is alive, and he seems dazed but not delusional.

Finally, Ezra’s eyes open clearly. Confused for a moment before he looks at you and his mouth opens, no words coming out save for your name.

You smile at him, a soft, loving smile as relief floods through you at how clear his gaze looks, no longer clouded by infection. “Hi.” You murmur, squeezing his hand as he becomes more lucid.

“You-“ he looks over to see Cee curled up, asleep in a chair in the corner and the past few stands come rushing back to him. “I-“ his head snaps to the right and he sees the bandaged stump of his right arm. “How are you here?” He manages after a shocked moment.

You caress his cheek, “I am a nurse here. I got the job after you left. I- I tried to follow you. Gave the money back to Dotty except the ticket and left the planet to find you but by the time I got here, you were already gone.” You confess, pulling your hand away, realizing he could hate you, or think you still hate him.

“You- you followed me?” He asks, frowning slightly. “I left the Pug almost immediately, finding work as a Prospector.”

“A prospector?” You gasp, glancing over at Cee and she mentioned aurelac. Being a prospector is a certain death. More dangerous than the mines. The prospecting planets are dangerous - both from nature and from humans. The way they would kill and plunder their way through each other. “Why did you become a prospector?” You choke, thanking Kevva he’s still alive, even if he’s worse for wear.

He chuckles, a dark, raspy sound. “It became apparent that my liaison with Dotty not only cost me the love of my life, but my reputation.” He huffs, still miffed by her retribution for leaving. “It has seemed she was hoping amongst hopes that you would leave me, which you did, but I did not fall into her arms in despair like she had anticipated. Her father trashed my name, prospecting was the only work I could garner that could possibly earn a fortune.”

Your eyes widen at how far Dotty was willing to go to get what she wanted. You shake your head, tempted to return to your home planet to teach her a lesson but instead, you squeeze his hand. “Ezra.” You whisper, guilty for what he’s endured when you sent him away. Cee blinks as she opens her eyes, having kept them closed to listen to your conversation. “You also did it to win her back. You told me you wanted to return with enough riches to win your wife back.” Cee says and you look at Ezra, “is that true?”

“Little bird, I must extend my most humble of apologies.” He looks away from you and over to Cee. “Like your daydreams of the heroine in your book, my daydreams of being reunited with my love has been the fuel to keep me going.” He explains. “The light in the darkness and the unattainable goal that I have tasked myself with.” He squeezes your hand gently and finally looks into your eyes again. “No matter how much folly must be overcome.”

You stare at him in shock, those dark brown eyes you’d dream of, the gaze you’d longed for on lonely nights until your anger took hold of your heart again. Seeing him now, looking at you with enough regret for a hundred lifetimes, your heart breaks at the years you’ve lost together. “Ezra, my darling. I’m so sorry.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

Ezra closes his eyes, knowing that you are placating him for the sake of the girl. He doesn’t know what Cee has told you about his relatively short friendship with her. “You have not done a thing to cause regret, little bird.” He whispers, “other than perhaps once loving the scoundrel who battered your heart to pieces by his untamed greed.” He sighs. “Now that greed has turned him into a useless wretch, better for little more than fodder on the Green.”

You sigh, caressing his cheek, “hush now. You need to rest. Once you are cleared to go home, you’ll come back with me. You too.” You turn to look at Cee, unwilling to leave the girl to fend for herself. You have a nice place here on the Pug. It’s small but it’s yours, unlike the shack you lived in on your home planet that was owned by the company. “Just relax for now, Ez. You need to rest and heal.”

****

It had taken some convincing, but Ezra had finally given in to your demand that he come home with you. Mainly for Cee. The poor girl had nowhere to go, the traders unwilling to even consider a deal for the craft she had piloted in. He would heal until he could get her settled and then he would figure out what he will do next.

You set his satchel down and Cee walks into your apartment, smiling at the decor. “This is awesome.” She says, unable to remember walking into a place that felt so much like home. “There’s two bedrooms. Down the hall to the left is yours, Cee.” You tell her, pointing down the hall. You did have a roommate - a girl from the hospital who has since gotten married - and you got a promotion to afford the entire place to yourself after she moved out. Cee rushes down the hall with her bag, and you walk across the living room to the other door. “Ezra, this is your room.” You tell him, opening your bedroom door to him. He turns to look at you with a frown, “where are you sleeping?” He asks and you jerk your chin over to the sofa. “On the sofa.” He shakes his head but you stop him protesting, “it’s more comfortable than our bed back home. I’ll be fine. You need rest. You need to be comfortable.”

“I am not taking your room, little bird.” He tells you with a frown. “I have already committed so many sins against you, I would not add another to my blackened soul.”

You sigh, knowing how stubborn he can be. How convincing he can be to get his way when he wants to. “We are adults. We can share a bed.” You declare, knowing you’ll end up on the sofa after he’s asleep but at least you’re giving him the illusion that he’s not pushing you out of your bed. He needs to heal and to heal, he needs to be relaxed.

“You don’t want to share a bed with me.” He scoffs, eyes cast towards the door that Cee had disappeared through. “The sofa you have looks better than the last ten places I’ve slept.”

You huff, "Ezra. You aren't going on the fucking sofa. Just take the damn bed." You demand, "I know what it takes to heal. Listen to me for once in your life." You growl, growing tired of his martyrdom.

Your comment hits him where it hurts and his eyes shutter. “Whatever you say is best.” He murmurs, turning to shuffle into the bedroom that is your space. It will be torment for him, his own special kind of hell where he is surrounded by you and yet you are still so far away.

You prepare dinner for Ezra and Cee while they settle in. Unsure of how to feel now that Ezra is in your home and on his way to being healed. You stir the pasta as Ezra enters the tiny kitchen, his shirt sleeve hanging down and your stomach twists at his missing limb. A shadow of the vivacious man you married. “I made your favorite…I - I don’t know if it’s still your favorite.” You add, looking at him from the stove.

“It has been a long time since I’ve eaten that particular cuisine.” He admits. “Since the last time you made it for me. I have mainly lived off bits bars and packaged protein pouches.”

You hate hearing that but you remind yourself that he got himself in that situation by breaking your wedding vows. He’s still technically your husband unless Dotty had her father sign away your marriage. You wouldn’t be surprised. You offer him a small smile, “hopefully it’s as good as it used to be.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Ezra murmurs softly. “You have always been able to create culinary art with simple ingredients. Shame the devil, you were a better cook than my poor mother.”

You shake your head, “your mama was a damn good cook.” You remember when she would bring food over for you and Ezra when you first moved in together. You gesture to the table and call for Cee to come and get some dinner. It’s a quiet event but Cee fills the space with a ramble about her new school. You smile at her, liking her positivity in life despite the hand she was dealt and you enjoy the small groans that escape Ezra’s lips as he eats his dinner. “Good?” You ask him, hoping he likes it.

“Ambrosia.” His eyes flutter closed and he savors the food, memories of past meals just like this come flooding back. Reminding him of what he had at one point. Especially because eating with his left hand is harder than he would have expected. Leaning back, he swallows the bite and groans. “It’s just like I remembered. Maybe even more delicious.”

You watch him struggle with his left hand but don’t try to help him, knowing he would be frustrated and lash out. “I already arranged for you to have physical therapy to help you adjust to your left hand.” You tell him and he doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t argue so you take that as a victory. Cee compliments your food and helps you clean the dishes while Ezra has a shower. Cee bids you goodnight not long after you finish drying so you decide to go into your bedroom to see if Ezra needs help. He does. He struggles to pull his underwear up his legs and you find him in the bedroom struggling to put his t-shirt on. “Here.” You say, “let me help.” You reach out to gently pull the shirt over his head and his dark eyes meet yours.

“Why are you helping me?” He demands. “You should leave me to struggle. I would deserve it for what I did. What I put you through.” He admits. “If you think that my betrayal with Dotty was bad, I have committed even more sins after becoming so adrift by myself.” He snorts. “I became a floater, without an anchor.”

You stare at him, letting him rant for a moment. “Then you clearly forget who I am, Ez. I would never leave you to struggle when you need me. You might’ve discarded our vows but I promised to stand by you in sickness and in health. I don’t care what sins you committed after you left, that’s for your soul to carry but I’m here to be your wife, even if you don’t want me to be.”

“You told me to leave.” Ezra reminds you bitterly. “My momma’s ring in my hand, fresh from your finger.” He shakes his head. “I do not wish to have you mistake your pity for some kind of misguided duty.” Even though he had wanted to win you back, he had always thought of it as impossible. Refusing to believe you would want to be with him in any true sense after that day.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I told you to leave because you broke my heart. You broke our vows for credits. I- I didn’t understand it. Then you left and I spent days just wondering what I did wrong until I came across Dotty and she told me you could barely get hard for her. That you moaned my name when you came. She might’ve had your body but I had your heart, your desire, your mind. That’s why I decided to follow you but by the time I got here, you were gone. I never stopped loving you. It’s always been you in my heart. Only you.” You promise, “even if you don’t believe me, I want you to know that.” You murmur, stepping back from him.

“Little bird….I cannot claim that I have not had other affairs, other physical encounters.” He admits, frowning slightly at the idea that he might hurt you further. “When I left that world, I was broken. Convinced that my love, my entire heart, hated me. I have lived as if I was unmarried, but never once, in all the encounters I have had, has someone even touched my heart.” He huffs slightly and gives you a sad smile. ��It’s hard for someone to steal something that isn’t mine to bequeath them. Not when I left it behind in your hands.”

You sigh and nod softly, “I haven’t been without my own encounters, Ez. I wasn’t going to sit around and pretend like I’d find you again and everything would be like it was. I- I’ve had my share of physical encounters here on the Pug but no one has had my heart. I’m certain that Dotty had our marriage annulled by her father the morning after you slept with her because my name on the transport was my maiden name in the system. Our vows weren’t broken anymore than they already were.” You promise, “we have both lived our lives to survive.”

His heart clenches and he nods. “She was diabolical enough to do just such a thing.” He growls, hating that he had ever known the bitch. “If I could change things, I would have never entertained the idea, let alone done it.” He murmurs. “I’ve lost so much, but my greatest regret was losing you.”

You reach up to cup his cheek, “baby. Baby. I- I love you. I forgave you long ago. I understand why you did it. Now I understand what you did was for us. I was betrayed, I was hurt. I was devastated that you broke our vows. You didn’t want to - I know that you didn’t want to touch her. I love you, Ez. No one has ever held a candle to you.” You murmur, shaking your head.

It’s an absolution he never thought he would receive, one he never deserved in his mind once he had worked through his righteous anger. He had betrayed you, even though he was doing the only thing he could at the time to try to improve your situation. It had ended up costing him everything. “I-“ he breaks down, closing his eyes and whimpering out a sob of relief. You said you love him, not past tense, but that you still do. “I adore you, little bird. Always.”

You pull him close to wrap your arms around him, his one arm pulling you close as he sobs into your neck. You can tell he’s been through so much. “Let’s get some rest, my darling. You need to sleep.” You murmur, rubbing his back as he calms down.

He’s uncharacteristically meek as you lead him towards the bed, exhausted from the emotional outburst and the relief that you no longer hate him. He sits down when you draw the covers back. “I could have had the fortune.” He murmurs softly, frowning. “But I would have had to trade Cee to the Saters on the Green.” He looks up at you sorrowfully. “I couldn’t do that. Not to that little girl.”

You caress his cheek, “you might think you’re a monster but deep down, you’re a good man. The man I married is a good man. You did what you felt was right and you didn’t make the same mistake twice. You saved her. She saved you. She will always have a home with us if she wants to.” You promise him, pushing him back towards the bed.

Your approval is all that matters to him. Leaning back and closing his eyes with a sigh. “I’m sorry you have to deal with me.” He murmurs. “Useless now. Can’t barely dress myself.”

You chuckle, “in sickness and in health, baby.” You pull the covers over him and lean in to kiss his forehead, “you’ll get better. You just need to figure out how to do everything left-handed. It will take time but you’ll get there.” You murmur, standing back up. 

“Stay.” He pleads softly, those dark eyes burning into you. You hesitate for a second, knowing this is crossing a line you can’t come back from but you don’t care. You nod, silently agreeing as you make your way into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

He knows that you’ve been sleeping on the couch. You’ve always conveniently had to do things until he’s fallen asleep and that side was never disturbed. Now, he watches the bathroom, feeling like it’s the first night you’ve ever spent together, even though physical intimacy isn’t on the table. When you come back out, Ezra sighs, “Birdie, you are still the most gorgeous creature I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.”

You fluster under his dark stare and his praise. "The years haven't always been kind to me." You confess and shift to lay down on the bed, getting under the sheets. "I have missed my best friend." You murmur, shifting closer to him.

Ezra opens his lone arm, offering you the place against his side that you always preferred. “I have missed you with every beat of my heart and every labored breath I have taken since we were parted.” He promises, pleased when you shuffle closer and lay your head on his shoulder. “I should have never left you. Despite what sins I committed. I should have stayed and groveled at your feet.”

You sigh, reaching up to rub your fingers through his hair. “It’s - it’s the past now, my love. Let’s move forward. I only want to think about the future. I want you to promise me that we only think about the future from now on.” You murmur, sliding your hand down to caress his cheek, tracing the scar on his skin, and your eyes flick up to his. His eyes meet yours and you slowly lean in to softly press your lips to his.

It’s the most gentle kiss Ezra has had since the last one he shared with you. Unable to kiss anyone else with the same tenderness, he melts at the small amount of pressure and slowly tilts his head to deepen it, wanting more of you almost immediately.

You deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue against his lower lip and he grants you access, making you moan into his mouth. He groans softly and his hand cups the back of your head as you kiss him.

Just this one kiss has Ezra aching for you. Already starting to harden in his boxers despite it being the first erection since being injured on the Green. Wishing that he had both of his arms to hold you with.

You feel how eager he is for you, pressing against your hip, and you can't pull back. If you were sensible, you'd pull away and take a moment to process but it's been years since you were with your husband and all you want is to hear him moan again. You throw your leg over his hip, grinding against him, getting wetter in your sleep shorts with each kiss he presses to your lips.

“Fuck.” Ezra hisses into your mouth, bucking his hips up as you grind down. You are so sexy, so perfect and all he can think about is how long it has been since he has tasted you. “I-“ he pulls away from your lips and starts to kiss down your throat. “Let me apologize to you with the skill of my tongue.” He begs you. “I cannot do everything I used to, but my face will make a divine perch for your wonderfully little cunt.”

You gasp against his hair as he kisses your neck. "Kevva, Ez. I don't want to hurt you." You murmur and he pulls back, shaking his head. "Little bird, you could never hurt me enough to pay for the agony I caused you." He declares and you hesitate for a second before you nod. You shift back and sit up, removing your tank top to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. Your shorts are next and you are soon straddling Ezra's chest. "Tell me if I am hurting you." You demand, lifting your hips and shuffling forward until you hover over his face.

He won’t breathe a word about it, never. Not when he has caused you so much strife. But your thighs are away from his arms and you don’t touch the remaining portion of his right arm, so Ezra is fine. Especially when he can gaze on your cunt like a long denied treat. “Kevva, you smell the same.” He groans, inhaling your scent. “All my favorite meals are available for me to dine on tonight.” He huffs proudly before lunging forward to slide his tongue between your lips.

Your hips lower a little more to allow him better access to your pussy and your hands find security on the headboard. His name a breathless moan from your lips as he eats you like a man who was starving for weeks. Perhaps that is accurate, he was starved on the Green. Of affection. Of a home. Of real food. "Fuck." You pant, rocking down onto his face as you relax into the pleasure.

Your moans are urging him on. Recalling your taste and gorging himself on it, on your sounds as he licks and sucks on the tender little clit that has always been so sensitive for him. His cock throbs but he would die a happy man, right here with his tongue buried in your cunt and your moans echoing in his ears.

You moan, rocking a little harder, and when he sucks on your clit, you’re gone. You shake above him, moaning his name as you cum on his chin and soak his skin. “Oh fuck, baby.” You choke, your body stiffening as he works you through it until you have to lift off of his face.

His jaw, mouth and lower face is covered in your slick and he grunts in protest when you pull away. Knowing that he could have spent hours just like that while you drowned him in your cum. “So good, little bird.” He rasps out. “Missed that beautiful liquid honey that pours out of your cunt.”

You straddle his belly, slick sliding against his skin, and you bend down to kiss him, uncaring of the tang of your orgasm on his lips as you slide his tongue into your mouth. "I want to ride you, Ez." You murmur, nipping his chin. 

"The day I deny you that is surely the day that Kevva comes to claim my blackened soul." He declares and you shift to sit up, shuffling back until you are hovering over him. Your eyes meet his as you grip his cock and slowly sink down onto him after positioning him at your dripping pussy. Ezra hisses in pleasure, his entire body lighting up at the glorious feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock again. It doesn’t matter who he’s fucked, no one has ever compared to you. Moaning your name, his fingers dig into your hips as you settle down on his cock. “You are just as tight as the time I stole your innocence.” He groans in delight. “I love you.” He murmurs your name again, his eyes dark and fixed on yours. “Only you. Forever.”

You moan, caressing his chest, the scars of battles fought without you. You sigh and start to move once you adjust to him inside of you. He stretches you out, he always would stretch you out even with foreplay, and you love the slight pinch. Moaning his name, you rock on top of him, your palms on his chest and you feel his heart pounding under your touch.

You look like an angel above him. Ezra can’t even tear his gaze away from you and he uses his one hand to caress up and down your side. “My beautiful angel.” He chokes out. “Kevva sent.”

You smile down at him, reaching for his hand as you move your hips and you press your lips to his knuckles, wanting him to feel just as worshiped. You rock slow but deep, moving your hips enough to make him push deeper inside of you with each motion. “Kevva sent you back to me. You’ve been punished enough, my love. I want us to look forward to a bright future together. Whatever it holds.”

Ezra groans, nodding breathlessly as he watches you move. Completely entranced and just as in love with you as he had been so many years ago. “I love you. I love you so much, little bird.”

You nod, squeezing his hand as you move on top of him. You are getting closer, your walls fluttering around his cock, and you bring his hand down your body to your clit, pressing his thumb there. He gets the hint, rubbing your clit a little faster as you rock on top of him. “Fuck baby.” You moan, reaching out to grip the headboard, your tits swaying as you ride him. “Oh oh ohhhhh Ez.” You pant, clamping down on his cock as you fall apart around his cock.

He groans, loving how tight you are and how you are soaking him every time your walls contract. “Baby, my love.” He whispers, watching you in awe and appreciating how gorgeous you are. “Are you- your implant?” He gasps, dangerously close to cumming but he wants to make sure you are safe.

“I got a new one. It’s safe.” You pant out, letting go of the headboard and you cup his cheeks, leaning in to kiss him as you start to move again. Rocking back onto him, you moan into his mouth, “cum for me.”

He doesn’t try to rock up into you, letting you set the pace to make him cum. Enjoying the way that you are working his cock, milking it as you ride him. “I- fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Ezra groans. “Gonna fill you up. Paint my favorite canvas of your womb.”

You moan at his words, always waxing poetry in the filthiest way. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, struggling to keep working yourself on his cock, your thighs aching, but you want to watch his face when he fills you up. His brow furrows, his lips parting until he lets out a groan, cock twitching inside of you as he fills your womb just like he promised.

Ezra shudders, his hips jerking up and his eyes flutter and roll back in his head. Riding out the best fucking orgasm he’s had in years, since you, with another filthy groan of your name. Until he’s completely spent, pouring himself into you.

You smile against his chin, breathing him in and he relaxes beneath you. You’re reunited with your husband after so many years of loving and hating him. You caress his cheek and his arm comes up to slide along your spine. “Still the most magnificent pussy in the fucking galaxy.” He murmurs and you giggle, kissing him softly, “and all yours.”

****

You stare out of the window at the suns, glowing above as you finish stirring the sauce for Ezra’s favorite meal. “Mama! How long until dinner?” Your son asks, his small patch of blonde hair just like his father. 

“Not long, baby. Go wash your hands. Tell Cee to clean up too.” You order and your five year old rushes off to tell his “sister” to get ready for dinner. 

“Mmm, is that my favorite?” You feel an arm wrap around your waist. Your husband kisses along your neck and you tilt your head to allow him more access. His glasses dig into your skin but you don’t care, turning your head to press your lips to his. 

“It is. Wanted to celebrate our wedding anniversary. All those years ago and the shit we went through and here we are.” You smile and Ezra caresses your round stomach. 

“Another baby on the way. Cee is about to head out on her own. We did good, little bird.” He murmurs, his eyes full of adoration. 

“We did. We got off that damn planet and we made it in the end.” You hum, placing your hand on top of his. 

“We made it.” Ezra repeats softly, kissing your head as he looks out of the window to a bright blue sky and clean air.