#lets all just listen to those struggling and give a hearty FUCK YOU to this site

[coffin-clown]

I'm not going to continue making original posts on the topic beyond this one probably (as a tme person I far prefer to actually reblog sources from those affected by the issue, and I highly recommend everyone else do the same- there are so many wonderfully smart people willing to educate, please seek them out) but oh my god. Im getting literally so tired of people's "activism" for trans women + transfems being the simple act of being attracted to them.

thinking trans women + transfems are hot is only the same as thinking anyone else is hot. it is not the end all be all, and certainly no excuse to avoid other forms of community support, simply to find them attractive. I'm saying this ESPECIALLY to my fellow tme trans people. it's amazing if this is validating and helpful to the tma people in your life, but please please please please can we all just think for a second before saying this to strangers??

[trashcanplant]

The Harvest

Mob Au to @//clownsuu

Penny to @cherrythepuppet

Vince to @cloudy-dreams

TW: Spooky scary scarecrows send shivers down your spine! Rotting meat.

Grover sat at the bar, keeling over a hearty glass of rye whiskey like there was no tomorrow. He felt miserable, grabbing at his chest and struggling to breathe. His mind spaced out, and when he came back to reality, Penny was sitting beside him.

“Ugh… what do you want.” He groaned, slamming back another cup. Grover let Howdy finish pouring him a new one before he turned back to Penny.

With the changing of the seasons in full swing and clumps of leaves layering the ground, she had now taken a poofy feather boa oon her bare shoulders. The little lady raised her eyebrows at him as a snarky grin graced her lips.

“Hi.” She said quickly, turning to Howdy and raising her finger. He nodded silently and started to prepare a Shirley Temple.

“Doesn’t answer my question.” Grover grumbled worthlessly, sinking into the bar stool like his roots were planting into the ground.

“Well, Scarycrow—“ Penny began before a cough from Grover interrupted her.

“Not my name.” He growled. Penny rolled her eye.

“Yeah, anyway, Boss told me to tell you ‘Feed him’ So. Feed him. Whatever that means. Has he started talking in third person?” She questioned, looking down at the pear bracelets over her opera gloves. Grover perked up. He looked out the window, downed his drink, and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Penny asked, reaching for her drink that Howdy had just finished shaking and topping with whipped cream and cherries. Her eye followed Grover as he grabbed a coat.

“Out.” He said. This piqued Penny’s curiosity. She’d heard from Antoni that Grover wasn’t allowed ‘out’ without permission. She hopped from her barstool, chasing Grover into the night.

“You’re not allowed out! Boss said-“

“Boss told me that I need to go when he gives the word. Where the fuck are those birds..” He growls, eyes on the skies as he listens for a distant cawing. His eye spots two birds, barely visible behind the night sky as they cry from their branch. Grover huffs, turning to Penny.

“You’re helping me make a delivery.” He said sharply, practically dragging her by the arm to one of the cars.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She shouts, struggling against his grasp.

“Help me make the delivery and I get you whatever treat you want.” Grover replies, getting her in the car. It’s not the usual continental that he’d drive. It’s a pickup truck, back covered with a tarp. Penny sits in the passenger seat, holding her arm nervously.

“Fine.”

And they drive off into the night. Penny watched as the lights from the city began to dim. The truck passed by the warehouse that marked the edge of town and drove farther than that and parked at the tree line. Grover got out of the truck and took the cover off the truck bed.

It was a cacophony of flies, buzzing over the top half of a deer. It had been ripped in half, and smelled like it had been a long time since it had died. Its guts had stained the bed red and maggots had begun to creep through the deers skin and pelt. Grover looked down on it, grabbing it and easing it out of the truck. It hit the ground with a somehow wet squelch. Something leaked from the deer.

“Help me.” Grover said, and when Penny got around the truck she screamed. It alerted the crows which dotted the trees, and Grover slapped a still wet glove against her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up. Vince don’t like noise.” He commanded. Penny stared at him with a wide eye, shivering in her unfit-for-weather dress.

“Grab the back.” Grover said, looking over his shoulder into the tree line. Penny squirmed, reaching down to try and carry her half of the weight. It was unfair, Grover had to lean all the way down and walk backwards into the trees with Penny trying to direct him in the dim light. He was pricked by several brambles and stabbed with sticks.

When the pair passed the tree line and entered the clearing, it was like walking into the world’s most terrifying sculpture park. The figures were all in the midst of fleeing. To the untrained eye it would look like wood carvings, but the way that the flies landed on them and how new branches grew from they eye sockets and mouths of these people made it obvious that it wasn’t just sculpture.

Grover and Penny carried the deer, sticks crunching under their shoes. The two approached the center of the field and Grover dropped the deer. He looked around at the stillness, searching for something in the trees. Penny felt uncomfortable, her head on a swivel as she looked through the field. She could have sworn she saw one of the bodies still breathing.

Grover whistled, taking a step away from the dearly departed deer.

“Watch em feast.” He said with a little grin on his face. The crows flooded from tree line, swooping at the carcass. Grover laughed, and Penny turned over her shoulder to see a hunched over figure with dark eyes and an elongated mouth. She screamed, grabbing onto Grover who looked down at her.

When his eyes landed on Vince in the darkness, reaching out to grab Penny, Grover swatted his hand away.

“No, Vince. I get’cher real hungry to have someone new join ya but not her. She’s family.” Grover said, staring at Vince as the cut noose swayed around his neck. They held eye contact. Vince opened his mouth and murmured something in a low, unfamiliar tone that sent chill down Penny’s spine.

“Look, how bout next time I bring one here fer ya I’ll letcha do yer tree thing an’ all that. I like them screams too, gotta admit..” Grover said with a low chuckle. Vince had a raspy laugh, not saying a word but staring at Penny. Grover looked down at her again.

“Her names Penny. I needed an extra set a hands pullin’ the deer. I know ya like a bit of a scaredy-cat, but I got reprimanded by Wally when I had brought Poppy out here. You ‘member her, Vince? Real tall bird broad?” Grover said. Penny had a look of horror plastered on her face as she kept a grip on Grover’s pants. Vince did not respond, reaching out a finger to graze against Penny’s skin. The taller of the scarecrows grabbed at the other, holding his gloved hand tightly.

“I’ll see what I can fix up fer ya. But not her. Not her.” Grover said protectively. The crows behind him cawed as they finished their feast and flew back into the trees. The plot was silent again, save for Vince’s ragged breathing. Penny stared up at Grover, then at Vince.

“D’ya need help spreading the bones across the field?” Grover asked. He gave Penny a little pat, a nonverbal way of telling her to head back to the truck. As she began to walk away, Vince turned his head with an audible creak. Grover kept his attention, talking to him calmly.

It took over an hour for Grover to return to the pickup truck. Penny was asleep, her head against the window. Grover glanced out the driver side window at Vince who stood just beyond the tree line. He waved goodbye, then turned around on the road to drive home.

From just under Penny’s opera glove, a small leaf began to sprout.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

With his back straight, steps measured and calm, Draco walked up the walk toward his house. Everything was carefully tamped down, carefully tucked away where no one could see it or guess at it. He wore the perfect mask, a mask he'd honed over the years and had been able to employ since he was young, the perfect defense against his parents, his strongest shield.

He entered his house and stood there in the entryway for just a moment, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. His composure was still held tightly, knowing that the moment it cracked he wouldn't be able to withstand the torrents of his emotions. That much had been proven time and again.

So he slowly, methodically went through the motions of checking the post he'd missed in the two days he was away, hanging up his cloak, changing into comfortable clothes, and unpacking his suitcase. Then he went to the kitchen and started making supper, a stew that could simmer on the stove and a hearty grain bread. A meal that would warm him from the inside out.

As he was shaping the loaves the door opened and the wind blew Harry in. He grinned at Draco, curls riotous around his face and shoulders, bronze skin tinted rosy from the chill in the air. "Hey you," he said, like seeing Draco was the best part of his day.

"Hi," he choked out.

Harry's eyes were soft, full of compassion and tenderness as he looked at Draco. He took his jacket off and sent it to the closet, "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Draco shook his head, putting the bread into the oven to avoid having to meet the other man's eyes, not ready to let go of the control he'd held onto so tightly for two days.

"Can I hug you?" he asked.

After a heartbeat, Draco shook his head again. "No," he whispered. "Sorry," he added softly, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater and pulling them down over his hands.

"Why are you sorry?" Harry prompted softly, stepping into the kitchen and putting the kettle on.

He took a deep breath and let Harry start peeling back the layers, entered into the process of acknowledging his emotions. "You wanted to offer me comfort," he said. "I can't accept it right now but I don't want you to stop."

Harry hummed softly.

Draco continued, "And I am irrationally afraid that you will stop."

"I won't stop," Harry replied steadily. "It's not irrational for you to feel that way," he added, seamlessly acknowledging the trauma Draco had experienced and his willingness to meet him in his struggle. "I love you."

His heart twisted in his chest, leaving him aching and breathless at the easy way those words fell from the other man's lips. Like they cost him nothing to give them to Draco, like he expected nothing in return. "I can't," he whispered, eyes stinging.

"Can't what, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "shit, Harry." Tears slipped from his eyes and down his cheeks, "Sorry. I don't mean to be a mess. I don't mean to keep pushing you away. I don't-"

"Hey," he said, interrupting Draco's words and ducking his head so that he could look in Draco's eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, you're not pushing me away. Having boundaries and not being ready for something doesn't push me away. I don't mind sitting in the mess with you."

"You shouldn't have to," he blurted, frustrated by his inability to control his emotions, by his need to talk it out instead of just processing it himself or just acknowledging that his parents are arseholes and their opinions don't matter. "Fuck," he bit out, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I should just be able to move on. To not care about-"

"It's okay," Harry said softly, voice low and easy. "It's okay for that to be hard. It's okay for you to want to be loved and treated with gentleness." He stood as the kettle started to whistle and began making tea. "I am happy to listen to you and to help you process."

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around his waist. "I hate that you always get all of the worst bits of me," he whispered. Because if anyone deserved Draco's very best, it was Harry; his sweet, lovely Harry who loved him with more heart and tenderness than Draco had ever known was possible. Harry deserved all of Draco's goodness, all of the best bits ought to go to him, not all of the struggling, ragged, despairing bits.

"They aren't the worst bits," he said, handing a cup of peppermint tea to Draco before he settled back into his stool on the other side of the island with his own cup. "But even if they were, I'm glad to have them. I want all of the bits of you." He said it so earnestly, so painfully honestly, that Draco had no choice but to believe him.

It seemed like too much, like something that was completely undeserved and unwarranted. It seemed impossible that anyone could want all of the parts of him, could want to allow him space for all of the feelings and emotions he was hosting.

It seemed impossible that anyone could actually love him when the people who had made him and raised him only wanted him to be the cut out they'd designed for him. But as he looked at the other man's face, open and earnest as he waited for Draco to say more, the dam burst.

And Draco shattered.

Tears spilled from his eyes as his breath caught in his chest, pain radiating from the very core of his being through his chest and abdomen. "Harry," he whispered, reaching for him across the island.

Harry was around the island, letting Draco pull him close, in an instant. His arms wrapped around him and he held Draco up, "Hey. I see you," he whispered into Draco's hair. "You are good."

He let out a gasping sort of sob, "I'll never be enough for them," he said. "Never. It doesn't matter what I do, they'll never," he broke off as a sob forced its way out of his chest. "I try so hard," he whispered, "I can't-" he broke off again, not even sure what the end of that sentence was meant to be.

"I know," Harry replied, cradling him close with unbearable tenderness.

All of their words, their admonitions, their lectures, and guidance flooded through him, weakening all of the places in his life that he'd worked so hard to fortify after leaving home. The work that he'd done always felt like it came to nothing when he was with them, "I'm always too emotional, too lazy, too ugly, too stupid, too imperfect-"

"It's not true," the other man replied fiercely. "None of that is true, love."

"And I want to believe that," he said. He wanted to believe that more than anything. "Merlin, I want to believe that so much but I just-" he broke off, unsure of how to finish his thought.

"It's hard when that's not what they say," Harry finished for him when Draco lost the ending of his sentence. "I know," he murmured, holding Draco a little tighter still. "You are good, and kind, and clever, and fucking gorgeous. And you may be imperfect, but we all are."

He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly, then he did it again as Harry slowly stroked his hand up and down his back soothingly. He wanted to apologize but he knew that Harry would just make him explain why and then tell him that he didn't want or need that. He wanted to tell him he'd do better, be better but knew that Harry would just tell him that he wanted him as he was. That he loved him. And he didn't want to make Harry feel like he had to say all of those lovely, kind things when Draco was so ugly and broken. He didn't want to be more of a burden than he already was.

"I wish you'd let me come with you," Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

Draco huffed a laugh, "They'd tear you apart," he said. "I'd never ask that of you."

"I'd like to see them try," he said. "I just don't like that you're so alone," he continued. "I don't like that there's no one to stand up for you or at the very least tell you how spectacular you are in the quiet moments in between."

He sniffled a little and let himself imagine what it would be like not to be alone when he went to his parents'. "Thanks," he murmured. "I don't know if I'm ready to tell them about us yet," he added a little nervously, he loved Harry beyond measure and he didn't want the other man to think his hesitancy was a reflection on him.

"I'm not trying to rush you," Harry assured, "I just hate what happens to you every time you see them."

He closed his eyes and relaxed against Harry, letting the torrent of emotions batter his rib cage while Harry held him up. "I love you," he whispered.

Harry hummed and kissed the top of his head again, "I love you too. So much."

They stood together in the kitchen, Harry's arms around him, for a long time until Draco's stomach started growling and the timer for the bread in the oven went off. Dinner was quiet, but a part of Harry's body was always touching Draco; his foot against his shin, fingers tangling together, an ankle wrapped around Draco's: a constant reminder of his love and support.

And the rest of the night was similar, quiet and calm interspersed with Draco's stories of what had happened, lines and phrases that had been said to him, the re-telling cathartic even as it made him cry. Harry listened with rapt attention, focused on what Draco had to say, offering kindness and love, gently telling him what was actually true and washing away the lies.

They climbed into bed at the end of the day and Harry pulled Draco close, wrapping around his body and cradling Draco against his chest. And Draco let out a sigh, pulling Harry's arm just a little further around him and bringing his hand up to his lips, "Thank you," he murmured.

"My pleasure," Harry murmured into the back of his neck, "truly delighted to get to be with you and love you."

"It's a lot," he whispered.

"It's really not."

He huffed, "it feels like it is," he said as a tear slipped down his cheek.

"That's fair," Harry said softly, "but you don't feel like a lot to me. This doesn't feel like a lot. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

Draco closed his eyes and let out a slow breath and tried to let himself believe those words. Loving Harry was the easiest thing he'd ever done, so maybe, just maybe, he could believe that was true for Harry too.

[priestess-of-ra]

shoot-of-corruption:

Mariku’s eyes narrowed. “As I said. None of this is your fault.” He seemed a little uncomfortable with the situation now and huffed out. “Stop blaming yourself for feeling like this... You should be allowed to have feelings; sadness, anger, hatred, fear... they are kind of putrid but those - as I have come to understand - make you somewhat human.”

He nodded, very much in agreement about their compared situations, but only spoke up again once Ryou went off about being ‘the wits of the operation’... and it caused Mariku to cough out the most hearty laugh he had felt bubble up since he had left the shadows the last time after all these years. “I can’t say that I have seen you in the state of the ‘babbling mess’, which I would enjoy so far.” A wide smirk curled his lips and he leaned in a tad closer until their noses almost touched.

“But you blush in a very pretty way~” His shoulders still hitched up softly, like he was laughing on the inside, but listened to Ryou speak and if he hadn’t leaned back far enough so he couldn’t feel the other ones breath brush his face, that was ENTIRELY on purpose. When Ryou told him he’d like to be trapped with nobody rather than him, something reared in his chest, twitchy and fuzzy as it seemed to claw against the inside of his stomach... Ra... he had to look so gobsmacked!

Leaning in to brush his lips against Ryou’s ear, because it just so came over him, because he simply couldn’t stop the impulse, he breathed. “You are so going to regret that you have said that~” A low chuckle slipped from his throat. “You’ll never get away from me now. And if that thing so much as touches you, I am going to tear it apart with my fucking teeth~” Slipping his fingers around Ryou’s good hand, he would pull him up, something blooming inside of him he hadn’t felt for years. He was pretty certain he was ready to rip a man apart with his pinky fingers right this second. Something inside of him was burning and screeching with power, a whole murder of crows beating their wings in his torso.

His eyes were blazing in the darkness of the decrepit room, giving him an air of eldritch power, the glance of something composed of dark, powerful intent and gaping blackness.

“Let’s show this little bitch what happens to people, who mess with us!”

He struggled not to smile like an idiot when Mariku closed the space betwen them. So close, yet just out of reach. Ryo might have struggled to look him in the eyes before, but now he just couldn't stop staring. He could stare at those beautiful blue eyes for the rest of his life. It was too bad that they were actually violet, but that's a different story. The comment about the way he blushed was just fuel to the fire. The man's face couldn't turn any redder, and he was struggling not to sputter or look any more ridiculous than he already did. It was also safe to say that he lost his fight to not smile like he received the best news of his life.

Perhaps the most miraculous thing was that it actually reached his eyes.

"I--" The rest of that thought went unsaid as his date suddenly leaned to the side and brushed his lips against his ear. A chill of excitement shot through his spine, amplified when the other made his promise to him that they were stuck forever. "God that's hot." He couldn't help but mumble after the threat of tearing that thing to shreds, teeth first. "I hope you'll show me what those teeth can do, later." He just couldn't help himself. It's definitely what he'll be thinking about for the next couple of days, if not longer. Ryo was in the one place that put the fear of god in him, and he's having thoughts like these. Never thought he'd ever see the day. It felt like everything was going to be okay with Mariku at his side. He'd almost forgotten that they were still in the church in the first place.

When Mariku took his hand and pulled him up, he used his free hand to adjust his bag. There was a newfound confidence in those eyes, even if the rest of him was still getting over the events of the past, like, fifteen minutes. Yeah, they messed with the wrong people! He's Ryo Bakura, and no stupid little ghost is getting the better of him! They'll wish they'd passed onto the afterlife when he's through with them! Plus, he had to admit, the air that Mariku had around him right now was very attractive. Mysterious, dangerous, probably not of this world. And that last part was what made it especially hot.

"Let's show them what they're messing with!" Ryo proudly declared, tugging Mariku along to the door to remove the barricade. He was ready to take on the world, no matter what it threw at him. Ghost of this church be damned. Maybe he could salvage this date after all!

[venusguks]

— saccharine boy

pairing : reader x jeon jungkook

summary : the new transfer student is a bit strange…

genre : yandere jk, future smut, angst, dark, obsessive/possessive jk

warnings : this includes DARK themes with heavy topics. i dont support this unhealthy relationship dynamic irl. a huge TW for suicide, suicidal thoughts, tendencies, coaxing, themes. this is pure fiction so please know that if you’re struggling with suicidal thoughts, this may be really really horrible to read :(( yn and jk both say shitty things

part 1 of ??

☽

i loved you before i even knew you

in days fleeting moments, the sun dipped into the ocean, casting a surge of honey waves to engulf the city whole.

it’s vast, golden essence poured through the mid-open windows and into the empty school hallways.

moments before, the laughter of the baseball team dissipated, and those who confessed to the whim of spring filtered emotions had left with tear stained cheeks.

it's empty enough that you can hear your own slip ons click against the floor.

click, click, click.

you walk up the stairs, stopping right in front of the rooftop door.

the rusted knob is cool under your skin, and bracing yourself for the wind, you twist it open.

the wind whisks past you ferociously, as if urging you to turn back. you should've heeded the warning then (how foolish of you not to), but instead, you open your eyes to the tangerine streaks of the sky.

that’s when you see him.

— ❝ hey, do you regret it? ❞

his silhouette wavered beyond the metal railings of the rooftop.

you don’t know why—what had possibly gone through your mind when you spoke. it wasn't your business—you could honestly care less for people like him,

because people like him were the same as you.

despite that, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming, "you're such an attention freak, you know that?! do you really want to be seen that much?"

his head slightly lifted.

would he listen to you? would he care?

because if it were you past that railing right now, you wouldn't stop for anyone.

but doesn’t he see?

if he jumps, right now, right in front of you,

doesn’t he know how much that would break you?

please, the wind swallows your desperation. i’m already broken enough, so please don't make it any worse.

when i muster up the courage like you someday, i need to die without the thought of you jumping in my head.

— ❝ oh, i see… you're scared of me.❞

"there are so many other ways to kill yourself. drowning, the rope—you can jump off literally any other god damned building for all i care—but don't you dare make it this building! don't you dare jump off in front of me."

you saw it, as the wind danced past him, just how lifeless his eyes were

it was as if the sun himself feared him—preferring to quickly drown into the blue abyss rather than be in his mere presence.

"i know this place is terrible—but the janitor is so kind. he's a single father of three children and if you jump, he'd have to break his back scrubbing your blood for hours. he'd come home and put on a happy face despite worrying if his children will turn out like you. so please, for the janitor's sake, deal with haunting this school a different way. your death would affect more people than you’d know, so please.”

he doesn’t move, so hesitantly, as if it would change anything, you quietly add, "ah, he gave me food one time too.”

the boy’s back quivered, and your own trembling heart ached for him—but what you thought was sniffing turned into a loud, hearty laugh

you stood there, dumbfounded as you watched him.

"you're..." he tries to say through his giggles. when he catches his breath, he finally turns to you with the biggest smile.

"you're really stupid."

— ❝ but would it help if i said i've always loved you? ❞

frozen, you can only stand there gaping at him.

"i was just watching the sunset, but your reaction was so funny. you don't know how hard it was not to laugh."

what…?

you blink once, twice—then turning your heel, you begin to walk away.

"h-hey! wait!" he called from beyond the railings. "i'm sorry, okay? i was having too much fun—i didn't mean to scare you. please forgive me."

"scare me?" you scoffed. "kill yourself for all i care. it doesn't have anything to do with me."

— ❝ since that day... ❞

you just blurted it out of spite. you knew it was cruel, you didn’t mean it. you were just so angry. how dare he make a fool out of you? make a joke out of this? in your eyes, he was far more cruel.

“fine then.”

you turn back with a vile glare, but your heart stops as he takes a step back.

the boy hums in viscous amusement when he sees the horror in your eyes. in front of the blazing red of the sun, wearing his wide smile, he resembled a demon.

"forgive me, or i'll let go."

"d-don’t be stupid," you scowl, but you could barely feel yourself breathe.

then, just like that, one of his finger tips leave the metal bar—then another, and another.

you don’t know when you started running or how you even got there, but as soon as you hooked your fingers around his collar, you gave everything to pull him back.

"are you crazy?!" you scream, hot tears trickling down your eyes.

his annoying fit of laughter only angered you more.

— ❝ i loved you before i even knew you. ❞

"like i said, forgive me—and i won't try it again," he chimed in a playful tone.

you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

it scared you, his carelessness.

he scared you.

“okay, okay! i forgive you!” you yell exasperatedly. “god, you—you think this is funny? what the fuck is wrong with you?! you could’ve—just because i—y-you could’ve…r-right in front of me…and i-i…”

"hey, hey..." he chuckles softly, interlocking his fingers with yours through the metal fence.

you refused to look at him, but you could still feel the tingling warmth of his skin. you were close, the bars only stopping at your torso. when you look back at it, you remembered the seeping reality of his beauty.

his voice, his touch, him...

everything he did made you feel so out of control, so vulnerable.

who was he? why did you have to meet him?

"i knew you'd catch me, its fine."

"that's not the point here you suicidal bitch! i mean—what were you thinking? are you out of your mind? i swear to god—if you jumped and i became a suspect of murder, i'd dig up your own grave and kill you again!”

the boy’s eyes widened, shock dancing with his own bemusement. they were the same lifeless brown, but golden specks glimmered in where he looked at you.

finally, he smiles, “you’re horrible.”

you give a viscious glare, but before you can retort something, he continues, his hand trailing up your arm.

"but at the same time, horrible people don’t try to save a horrible person from dying. no, you can’t be horrible,” a cold shiver runs through your body when his fingers brush against your collarbone. “you’re just a sweet girl, aren’t you? an angel who saved me…”

he pulls you closer by your neck, his lips barely touching the shell of your ears. your breath hitches, and your knees suddenly feel weak.

“i’d love to ruin you.”

nothing comes out of your mouth.

all you can hear is your heart thumping against your chest. all you can feel is the unbearable heat blooming on your cheeks, and all you can see is him.

finally, his words settle in.

“get the fuck off me you creep!”

— ❝ you're never leaving me, my love. i won't let you. ❞

ː

a/n : i’m so so so sorry if this triggered some people. this may be poorly written as well as i’ve written this YEARS ago. as you might tell, i was suicidal then and i often incorporated that in writing—its a way to get it off my chest sort of. to have relatable characters is something thats always made me comfortable. honestly rereading it again nothing makes sense LOL but i thought i’d continue it just for fun. i hope whoever has come across this is having a lovely and healing day, stay safe starlights <3

[whitexwingedxdoves]

Foxtails and Rabbit trails | Part 2

A/N: This is part 2 to my collab with @starlessea​ i’ve had such a fun time working on this with Yaz and I hope you all love it as much as we do   🐰 Read Part One Here  Summary:  Daryl Dixon was a good hunter, but there were still some things that he struggled to find. Such as the patience to deal with you. You wore a rabbit’s foot keyring, but Daryl thought you were the furthest thing from lucky. After all, you ended up stuck with him, too.

-  Lying back on the grass, staring up at the cloudless sky, you thought that the world had never looked so pretty. 

The foxtails tickled your cheeks, and you could feel the fresh dew on the leaves as they gathered up beneath your fingers. You tried to focus on their texture, and how you could hear them crunch brittley before they scattered to the ground like autumn confetti.  

You really did try to focus on the good.

But the pain was blinding. 

“Hol’ still, ‘m gonna get ya outta there,” Daryl whispered, but you picked up on the way his voice stuttered over the words.

He got to work on disabling the trap, every little movement translating into a jolt of searing pain which made you cry out for him to stop. Though, the look in his eyes was no better. Even through your tears, you could understand that this was hurting him just as much as it hurt you - maybe even more.

If only you hadn’t been so fucking careless.

You reached out your hand for your satchel, fumbling in the grass until your fingertips brushed up against the soft fur of your rabbit’s foot. It was supposed to be lucky.

What a joke, you laughed, and grit your teeth through the pain.

Daryl disarmed the trap, making you whimper hoarsely once more as the metal jaws dislodged from your ankle. Your knuckles had turned white over that rabbit’s foot - almost matching its snowy pelt.

The man retrieved the rag from his back pocket - that same one you’d joked about not so long ago - and used it to bind your leg to stop the bleeding. 

Maybe that ratty cloth was handy, after all.

You tried to look down to catch a glimpse of the injury, and assess the damage. Except, Daryl didn’t let you.

“Eyes on me,” he instructed, gesturing to himself with his free hand.

You nodded, before letting your head fall back onto the damp grass. You glanced off to the side, noticing the mounds of dirt that crumbled near you.

“Hey, Daryl,” you murmured, “look at all of the burrows.”

The man didn’t look up from what he was doing - tending to you - but he still nodded his head anyway.

“Yeah,” he replied, tightening the makeshift bandage, “see if ya can spot any rabbits.”

And with that, Daryl carried you back to Alexandria - quickly and carefully, looking down at his feet the entire time.

Once you reached the infirmary, the man placed you on one of the beds whilst Denise got to work. She tried her hardest to be gentle with you, but even the softest touch made your skin crawl. Painkillers were given - only dulling the sensation ever so slightly - but they seemed to be enough for the doctor to stitch up your wounds, and replace Daryl’s old red rag with a clean bandage.

“I thought you hunters were supposed to be mindful of your surroundings,” Denise quipped, sending one of her sneaky looks your way as she finished her work. 

You rolled her eyes and shuffled ever so slightly in the bed, trying to get a glimpse.

“Yeah well, it was pretty well hidden,” you hit back. 

Daryl cleared his throat from the corner of the room; he’d been so quiet that you almost forgot he was there.

“Nah, ya got too distracted by the damn rabbits,” he grumbled.

More like too distracted by damn Daryl Dixon.

A glare was exchanged between you and the archer, but your smile got wider the longer you stared.

“Either way, it got you pretty good. You need to stay off that leg.” 

With a stern tone, Denise broke your gaze.

You shook your head. “That doesn’t work for me,” you argued, “I’ve got people to feed!” 

In response, you tried to shuffle off the bed - but a searing pain clambered up your leg and stunted your movements.

“I’m sure Daryl wouldn’t mind taking over for a while. Just until you’re better,” Denise reassured you.

The young doctor peered over her glasses at the archer, only for him to reply with a grunt.

“Now rest,” she told you, pressing your shoulder back down into the mattress. “Doctor’s orders!” 

That first night at the clinic had been quiet - far too quiet. It made you mull over your mistake until it was old in your mind, and heavy on your conscience. 

That is, until Daryl returned to bring you dandelions.

Denise had insisted that you stay where she could keep an eye on you, until the morning at least. But, you missed the comforts of your own room - where it was familiar. The walls of the infirmary were too white and barren, as opposed to your house which was decorated with pressed flowers and furs and much too many books. 

Your foot twitched occasionally, and every time you closed your eyes you could hear the snapping of those metal jaws as they clamped shut.

Sleep would probably elude you tonight.

Your nerves were made even worse when you were startled by knuckles rapping on the window. Reaching for the lamp, you illuminated the figure behind the glass - who also seemed spooked at having been caught.

Daryl stood there, motioning for you to open the latch on the window. 

You did, and the man lifted the pane, letting in the cool night’s breeze. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” you whispered, peering around the infirmary.

Daryl scowled, and muttered something below his breath that you couldn’t quite make out. The lampshade cast long shadows on his face, and you could only see the whites of his eyes poking out from between the strands of hair hanging over them.

“I ain’t,” he rasped back, gesturing to where he stood. “Technically.”

You raised an eyebrow at the man, not expecting that dry humour to come from him. He shook you off, and continued.

“Not stoppin’ long,” he dismissed, lifting up his backpack and fumbling around in it. “Went back out there an’ couldn’t see no more traps.” 

He smirked - faint and dim in the artificial light. But you still caught it.

“Ya must’ve sprung the only fuckin’ one.”

You laughed a little too loudly.

“Just my luck,” you shot back.

Daryl pulled something out from his bag - something you immediately recognised. It was a pelt blanket of soft, tawny fur. You’d made it yourself.

“Olivia tol’ me to give ya this,” he explained, feeding the material through the open window until you could reach it. “She went to get it from yer room.”

The feeling between your fingers instantly brought you comfort, and you ran the blanket along your cheek absentmindedly. 

Before you could reply, Daryl fished something else out from the rucksack and placed it on the windowsill. 

It was a glass bottle of dandelions.

It was a soda bottle, to be exact - probably snuck out of the pantry when no one was looking. You also recognised the flowers; you’d seen them out hunting once and noted just how much you liked the colour.

They looked like sunshine.

“Those from Olivia, too?” you whispered, gently stroking over the petals with your fingertips.

Daryl zipped up his bag and shook his head.

“Nah,” he mumbled, gesturing for you to close the window behind him. “These are from me.”

That was when you realised that perhaps Daryl Dixon wasn’t such a hard ass after all.

Though, your favourite memory from back then had to be the time he brought you bluebells. You’d practically chewed his ear off on one of your earlier trips, telling him all about how pretty they were - but you never thought he was listening.

You’d been sitting in your front room, pressing the previous bunch of flowers between one of your bigger books, when Daryl entered your home that day. Denise still hadn’t given you the all clear to go back out and hunt, and your movements were still pretty limited.

Hence, the constant appearances by the other hunter.

At this point, it had just become a part of the routine. Daryl would visit the house, walk straight to the empty vase on your bedside, and fill it with a new set of flowers. 

Though, today was a little different. 

Usually, he’d drop off some of the meat he’d managed to catch, and then leave. But, today he took a seat on the sofa opposite yours and fumbled with a tangled up cord.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you giggled, sitting further back into your cushion.

“Been trying to fix ya stupid traps out there. Can’t get the knot right,” he mumbled, his patience wearing as thin as that rope in his hands. 

You couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh at his words. 

The irony tasted so sweet. 

Daryl shot you a look which instantly made you cover your mouth. “Come here, I’ll help you,” you managed to say, whilst beckoning him over.

He did as instructed, but not without grumbling.

You took the cord from his hands and effortlessly untangled it. Daryl muttered something under his breath - but instead of prying, you took the victory and proceeded with your demonstration.

“Loop the rope around your hand like this and tie it.” 

Before finishing the action, you handed it over to Daryl so that he could do it by himself. 

“Then you fold the loop over to make ears, just like a rabbit!” you announced proudly, leaning over the man to show him exactly how it should look.

He scoffed. “What is it with you and the damn rabbits?” 

You rolled your eyes at the archer, and nudged him in the side for not paying attention - to which he carried on following your directions. 

“Then you thread the rope through,” you instructed, your hand hovering over his as you watched for any mistakes.

You hadn’t realised how close you were to him until he had finished the knot. You pulled away, and cleared your throat before refocusing on the cord - not daring to dwell on the tension.

“Then you add this end to the spring and leave the other end hanging.”

Daryl nodded silently, inspecting your work like he was trying to recreate it in his mind.

“Thanks,” he eventually whispered, chewing at the corner of his lip.

It didn’t take the man long to spring to his feet and murmur a goodbye before leaving. 

Thinking back on it, you could only laugh at how naive you both had been. 

Those bluebells were the last flowers ever left in that glass vase, but they hadn’t been the last you’d seen during your time at Alexandria. To this day, you still had an old, leather-bound book tucked away somewhere on a shelf - containing all of those pressed flowers with their dried up petals and stems. But, they weren’t the most memorable.

No. The ones you could remember the best, despite not having them laid flat atop a page, were the foxtail lilies.

“You good?” the man asked, guiding you through the long grass.

You followed him slowly, weaving through the wildflowers - being careful not to trod on them. 

Your leg had mostly healed, but your confidence still hadn’t made a full recovery. It was your first time hunting since the accident, and you couldn’t help but keep your eyes locked on your feet the entire time - despite Daryl having reassured you that he’d checked the area three times over.

“Yeah, just feels weird,” you replied, rolling your ankle. “But it’s good to be out again, thanks for taking over for me.”

Despite being out of commission for a few weeks, the people of Alexandria definitely hadn’t starved - that’s for damn sure.

Daryl shook his head, and continued to step through the foxtail lilies. He was leading you back to that new area - to explore it properly this time.

“Nah, ain’t nothin’,” he shrugged, not even sparing you a backwards glance.

You followed his trail, where his boots had flattened the grass and made it easier for you to navigate.

You sighed. “Can’t just say ‘you’re welcome’, can you?”

Something sprung in the distance, and you immediately flinched. It took you a few seconds to figure it out - but you soon realised that you recognised that sound.

You turned to the other hunter, only to find that he was already looking at you.

“Daryl Dixon,” you breathed, a smile already wide on your face. “Did you set a twitch-up snare?”

The man shook his head, before pointing into the distance - at the dozens of burrows you hadn’t gotten the chance to show him that day.

“Not jus’ one,” he announced, as you glanced around the field, counting the traps.

No wonder Alexandria hadn’t gone hungry.

Another one sprung, and made you jump. You couldn’t help it, you slapped Daryl over the back and laughed too loudly - probably making the remaining rabbits scurry back into their burrows.

“Be still my beating heart!” you joked. “I knew you’d come around.”

The lilies tickled your legs as they blew in the breeze, and made you laugh even more. But for once, the man didn’t scold you for scaring away the game.

“Yer welcome,” he replied, and smirked straight back.

Daryl thought of that memory, as he and Judith made their way through the darkened forest, back to the house. 

You had definitely changed him since then - in more ways than how he set up his traps.

Daryl hung behind the young girl, watching her feet as she navigated the thick overgrowth, and stepped over tree roots - her fox tail charm swinging from her jeans. 

It had been his, once. He’d caught that red fox himself in the dead of winter, and kept the brush just like you’d told him to do. Though, Judith Grimes had taken a liking to it as a baby - always reaching for the soft fur with her small hands, and sneezing when Daryl used it to tickle her nose.

It was hers now; it had been since that day.

As if feeling his stare, Judith turned back and called out to Daryl for him to hurry up - unless he wanted dinner to be cold. He let out a grunt and picked up the pace.

He was too damn old for this.

The two of them returned to the cabin before the sun had set, but Daryl could already smell the scent of cooked meat from the pathway, a few minutes back. The lights were on inside, flickering warmly behind the glass windows - as though calling the both of them home.

Judith reached the door first, and rapped on the wood, tapping out their signature knock. As soon as it creaked open, the young girl burst through - nearly knocking you over as she trudged through the house with a wide smile and muddy boots.

 Then, you disappeared behind the frame after her - yelling something about how animals were meant to be on a plate, and not seated at the dinner table.

Daryl couldn’t help but laugh at that one; you always did have a good sense of humour.

But for that reason, the hunter made sure to wash his hands as soon as he stepped through the door - before even attempting to put them on you, and pull you in close.

But once he did, you beckoned him over.

Daryl felt the warmth of your skin as you pressed your forehead to his.

“‘M home,” he murmured, offering out the bunch of wildflowers he’d picked for you on the way back.

They were slightly crushed from his grip - the stalks bent and the petals flaking off - but you still smiled at him in such a way that it made his breath catch.

Yeah, he thought, you hadn’t changed one bit.

“My favourites,” you replied, and placed those foxtails in fresh water at the centre of the dinner table.

-

tags:  @browneyes528​ @phoenixblack89​ @srhxpci​ @jodiereedus22​ @witch-of-letters​ @deadthewalking​

[whump-a-la-mode]

this is such a general thing but defiant villain whumpee slowly breaking pls :)

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this is slow enough. It's not exactly the traditional whumpee breaking, but I hope it's interesting nonetheless! Feel free to send in another ask if you want something different ^^

CW//Talk of mass destruction, sleep deprivation torture, brief pet whump mention, forced to eat gross food

"It's over."

There was a weariness to the newscaster's voice-- the kind that those in the profession were never meant to display. The sheer essence of bone-deep exhaustion. A body squeezed dry of adrenaline, until fight or flight turned to fatigue.

But, the fight was won.

"For the last three days, we have been running twenty four hour coverage of the battle occurring downtown. The battle began when Villain's forces attempted to overrun an R&D lab, following the occupation of their original headquarters by our city's heroes.

The destruction has been uncountable. But, it's over.

After a final assault at three in the morning, today, the last of Villain's personal guard fled the stronghold, and were taken into captivity. An hour later, the menace themself was captured.

It's over.

What exactly will be done with Villain is unclear, but Leader has assured us that appropriate measures have been prepared for their secure containment.

As for us? At long last, goodnight Metropolis."

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"And good morning, sleepyhead."

Villain could not help but wince as light washed over them in a boiling wave-- the warmth of darkness torn away from them-- as the back doors of the truck were swung open.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life." They snapped back, hoping the venom in their voice reached its recipient, standing at the truck's mouth.

Hero.

Of course, of all people, their welcoming committee had to be fucking Hero. The biggest asshat Metropolis had to offer. The worst, most stupidly noble, stupidly loyal, stupidly-

Their fury reached a boiling point to which enraged thoughts turned incoherent. It did not matter why they hated the idiot standing before them. It mattered only that anger alone made their veins feel as though they were overflowing with magma.

"Am I?" The noble fool cocked their head to the side, mocking and arrogant. "Or are you just upset that you've lost?"

"You think I've lost?" Villain let out a hearty chuckle. "All this effort, and you've caused me a minor setback, at most."

"Well, which one of us in the cage?"

They narrowed their eyes to slits. Hero was right. They were both staring through the bars of a cage, but Villain was very much the one contained. It was a tiny, steel construction. Large enough to stand up in, and take one step in each direction, but such was all.

Loaded into the back of a truck like some kind of zoo animal. They wanted to scream!

But, unlike the heroes, they could hold back.

"Me staying here to amuse you does not equate to defeat, Hero."

"Is that all you're doing? Humoring me?"

"Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?"

"Plenty." They smirked. "For one, sitting in the back of a truck for fourteen hours doesn't exactly seem like something you'd do to humor me."

Fourteen hours...

"Have you considered that I'm simply playing a long game?"

"It'll be the longest game of your life, then. Don't plan on getting out of here anytime soon. Or, y'know, ever. That's kind of the whole point."

"You really think you can hold me forever?"

"Oh, I know so. If you knew what was coming for you, you wouldn't be taking this so lightly."

"Oh, I'm so scared. What are you gonna do, give me a donut and tell me to hug this whole thing out?"

Hero chuckled, at that.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

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"You're sure this will work?" Leader cocked a brow, hoping that the teeth marks in their lower lip weren't visible. It was a nervous habit, chewing like that.

"Certain." Scientist had a chipper tone to them-- a student having solved a math problem. "We've been developing this method for months. Trust me, they have no chance."

"None?"

"None. Even better, this technique is more than a simple containment method. It has a progressive weakening effect. Within a few months, they'll be like putty in your hand."

"You know we're talking about Villain here, right?"

"Precisely!"

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Villain had expected high security.

Of course they had. They'd quite frankly expected something ridiculous. A cell suspended over a pit of lava. Or a shark-infested pool. Or maybe they'd simply contain them through the power of sedatives.

None of the options sounded particularly enjoyable. But, all three sounded better than the room they stood in front of at that moment.

Six guards stood around them, each heavily armed, and not afraid to display this fact. Two stood on either side of them, each holding a chain attached to one of the twin manacles that adorned both their wrists-- they'd expected handcuffs, but two shackles per wrist seemed a little excessive. The two remaining guards stood with one in front and one behind. Their chains were those connected to Villain's feet. One tug, and they'd be face-first on the tile.

The restraints didn't make them want to flee any less. Not when they saw that room. Even chained as they were, they squirmed at the very sight of what stood before them.

It was rather large, though not ostentatiously so. Though, its size was accentuated by the complete lack of furniture lining the walls.

No. There were only two things inside the chamber.

The first stood at the center. A massive, metal ring, perhaps ten feet in height and the same in width. Four cylinders of the same material extended into the circle's center, looking terribly like hungry mouths.

One for each wrist, one for each ankle.

They were going to be splayed out like a bearskin carpet. Not to mention the vulnerability... With their limbs spread in every which direction, everything would be exposed. Their stomach, their back, their head. And they would be without a hope of retaliation.

It was a terrifying thought, but the elaborate restraint was nothing compared to the other thing inside the chamber.

Light.

There must have been a thousand of them. Shimmering, dazzling lights. On the ceiling, on the walls, some even on the floor.

It had not been since Villain's childhood that light had truly affected them. The manifestation of their abilities had coincided with the appearance of their acute sensitivity to the sun. Such was to be expected' a supernatural ability to move through places dark and shadowed, to control the shroud as though it were a thing rather than an absence did not exactly leave one looking forward to the sunrise.

Yet, they were not a vampire. Through gradual acclimation, they had learned to become comfortable with normal levels of light exposure. Spending a few hours under the sun's rays was not a problem, nor was existing within an indoor space, dominated by artificial lamps and LEDs.

But that room...

Villain could not take it. In desperation, they pulled, tugging on the restraints that dangled around them like tails. But, even they were no match for six men.

And, thus, they entered.

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"Now, I can see you weren't lying!"

The voice startled Villain, sent a jolt through their chest, but it did nothing to raise their head or open their eyes. Not immediately. Lifting their gaze was a task accomplished with a considerable amount of effort, and unveiling their eyes from their lids made their corneas feel to have been pierced by searing blades.

They could hardly see Hero, through the blazing lights.

"You really were trying to humor me. This is hilarious!"

It was with a terribly uncomfortable feeling that they felt fury overtake their fatigue.

"It's only been six days. I can play the long game."

"Is that why you've been hanging around?"

Though they tried, in their manacles, it proved impossible to ball their fists. The metal fit too closely around their fingers, contoured to not allow the slightest shadow of movement.

"Maybe it is, Hero. Maybe it is."

"Maybe." The Hero took a step forth, then another, until they were mere inches from their captive nemesis. "They've really done something here, huh? Ya' can hardly move an inch."

"There's a difference between not being able to and not wanting to."

"Is that so?"

Hero placed a chilled hand on their nemesis' side-- just above their hip, where their range of movement was the most limited by their splayed limbs.

Villain's heart leapt as they felt a tiny spark, jolting through their chest.

Suffering a direct blow from their nemesis was a fate they had only endured a handful of times. Now, there was nothing to protect them from it. Not even the adrenaline of battle.

"They say you're gonna give up, y'know." Hero trailed their hand, up and down Villain's taut skin. "I think they're betting on it, up in HQ. It's only a matter of time. We can all see you're getting weaker. Tired. You aren't great at hiding it."

"What I'm good at is acting."

"You're saying this is all an act? So you won't mind if I do... this?"

That time, the feeling was more of a spark.

Villain's scream echoed throughout the chamber, but there was no one to hear them but the light.

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"Hey! Get up. Can't you hear me?"

Of course Villain could hear Hero. They'd been hearing their stupid voice every single one of these last...

How many days had it been?

They couldn't remember. Too many.

"There's a difference between hearing and listening."

"I thought this whole breaking you thing would be more fun."

"I'm sorry that I'm not entertaining you."

"Nah, I don't think seeing you strung up like this will ever get old." Like a child, Hero laughed. "Anyways, I brought you some food. It's fish!"

Villain hated fish.

But, struggling would mean opening their eyes. Looking at the light.

And, thus, they ate.

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"Come on."

A sharp vibration rattled through the restraint frame, and, consequently, to the cores of Villain's bones. But, they did not move.

"I know you can hear me. So get up!"

Hero kicked the frame again, but received the same reaction.

"I thought you were playing the long game. I'm looking for some payoff, here. This new Villain is boring."

Maybe.

Maybe they were boring.

But they didn't have the energy to be anything else. Not anymore.

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"What did I tell you?" Scientist smirked. "Like putty in your hand!"

"I still don't understand how you did it." Leader shook their head. "The biggest threat to the city..."

"Oh, it was easy. They've got those weird dark powers, yeah? So they aren't hurt by the light. Not exactly. But, when there's lights on, they can't sleep! Not a wink. You could leave 'em outside and give 'em the keys to your own car, and they still wouldn't be able to escape."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. By the way, who won the betting pool?"

"Engineering department. They said three months, they were the closest. You're saying they haven't slept in three months?"

"Yep! There's not much left of the old Villain anymore, though. So... I mean, now, they can be whatever you want them to be. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hm..." Leader drummed their fingers against the wall. "I have always wanted a bodyguard."

"I thought you always wanted a dog."

"True, true."

"So... why not both?"

"You have a technique for that too?"

"Yep!"

[havenoffandoms]

Just Fine (Aiden/Lambert)

Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses Prompt List

Read on Ao3

Prompt:  “Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.”

Summary: 

Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least.

Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Warnings: mention of amputation, modern AU

“So, today’s the day, huh?” Eskel smirks as he watches Lambert positively vibrating with excitement where he’s sat on a chair opposite Eskel. The coffee shop is mostly empty, save for another couple in the corner exchanging kisses and giggling carelessly as they rejoice in their puppy love. Lambert chose this place because it’s closest to the airport, but admittedly the place isn’t half-bad and the coffee doesn’t taste like piss.

“Stop that, it’s creepy,” Lambert grouses as he stuffs another forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth. When he notices Eskel’s confused frown, Lambert rolls his eyes and adds pointedly, “you, being all excited on my behalf. That’s unnatural. Stop it.”

“Whatever.” Eskel takes a sip of his tea - because Eskel is the kind of person who likes to drink tea for fun - before levelling Lambert with a look that the latter knows all too well. “You’re allowed to be excited about his return, you know? It’s been a year since he-”

“I know,” Lambert quickly interrupts before Eskel has a chance to finish his sentence, “I am excited.”

“Tell your face, then.”

“Shut up, prick.”

“It’s gonna be fine, Lambert.” Eskel reaches across the table to squeeze Lambert’s clammy hand. “I know you’re worried because of his injury, but you’ll both figure it out together. You don’t love him any less for it, right?”

“Of course not,” Lambert snaps in response as he snatches his hand away, angry at the mere suggestion that his feelings for Aiden would disappear for something as superficial as a physical injury, “of course I don’t love him any less for it. It’s just…”

Eskel doesn’t press him, and Lambert is grateful for that. Truth be told, he’s not entirely sure why he feels so anxious at the thought of seeing Aiden again. It’s been a long year without his boyfriend there to warm his bed and his life. Aiden is the life of Lambert’s entire life, and a year without him felt like the longest time. A whole year went by since Aiden was deployed and has been fighting overseas, taking part in a war that has lost all meaning. He missed birthdays, holidays spent with family around a hearty meal, milestone anniversaries... A year of Lambert staying up late at night, calling Aiden whenever his connection permitted it or writing letters to send his boyfriend when speaking to him proved too difficult. A year of Lambert switching the TV or radio on every morning before heading to work, listening for the announcements and hoping he wouldn’t hear Aiden’s name listed among the soldiers that perished as part of this senseless war.

Just over a week ago, Aiden called Lambert from a military hospital overseas a short two days after he was involved in an explosion that cost the lives of hundreds of civilians and soldiers alike. While Aiden survived the blast, he sustained a considerable injury to his leg. The doctors couldn’t save it, Aiden told Lambert over the phone, the leg had to come off. Lambert remembered crying on the phone that night, not because he mourned the loss of Aiden’s leg - they were tears of relief because Aiden came this close to dying in the blast that killed so many people. Lambert came this close to losing the most important person in his life. Come home, baby, Lambert remembered begging Aiden over the phone, I need you to come home. Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least. As a result of the injury he suffered, Aiden had to retire from the military early. While Lambert was happy to have his boyfriend return to him, he knew that Aiden struggled with the thought of retiring at the prime of his career. Not only is he out of a job, but his job prospects are not looking too bright, either. Aiden will have to spend time in physiotherapy, physical rehabilitation courses, counselling… Lambert knows the next months will be tough on his boyfriend.

Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.

“It’s gonna be just fine, Lamb.” Eskel sounds so sure, so confident, that Lambert is almost inclined to believe him. “I promise, brother. You and Aiden will be just fine.”

“I hope you’re right, Kel.”

The drive to the airport is longer than Lambert remembers it being. The car is filled with the sound of heavy rock and heavy metal, the loud emphatic beats and distorted guitar solos washing over Lambert in calming waves. His brothers call him weird for finding this kind of music ‘soothing’, but it works for him, so his brothers can kiss his ass. The sun is beating down on the world below, forcing Lambert to crank up the A/C in the car. He drives along miles of barbed wire, “KEEP OUT” signs and parked aircraft. Lambert checks the time on his dashboard and realises that he’s a whole half an hour early. It isn’t exactly unheard of for soldiers’ families to arrive early and prepare for their loved one’s arrival - either by setting up signs, powdering their noses or getting the children to practice a welcome home song to celebrate their parents’ triumphant return. Lambert usually just waits in the shadows until Aiden comes into view, at which point he pulls his boyfriend close to him so they can get reacquainted away from prying eyes.

Lambert pulls into the airport multistorey parking complex, and thankfully he doesn’t have to spend ages looking for a parking space. As he pulls up into a tight space, Lambert’s heart sinks in his chest. Aiden will probably be travelling in a wheelchair - and he will be using one for a while, at least until he gets his prosthetic leg fitted. There’s no way in hell that Aiden will be able to comfortably step into the car if Lambert stays parked in this spot, but what other choice does he have? He doesn’t have a disabled parking permit yet, but Lambert guesses that’s something they’ll have to think about now. Until then, all he can do is park further away from the door and hope that no one will use the bay next to the passenger side so Aiden has enough space to move comfortably. So that’s precisely what he does. Shit, is Lambert overthinking this? Is he looking for problems where there are none? The last thing he wants is to tiptoe around Aiden’s disability. The last thing he wants is to make Aiden feel like things have changed because he lost his leg.

Shit. Why is he crying now? He should be excited, goddammit.

Lambert angrily wipes the tears and steps out of the car. They’ll be just fine, that’s what Eskel said. Eskel sounded so confident, so sure of himself, but hell, what if he’s wrong? What if Aiden leaves Lambert? What if Aiden pushes Lambert away? It was probably a mistake to read up all those army wives’ blogs and the nightmarish stories about husbands shutting down and falling into depression after sustaining a serious injury. Shit, what if Lambert isn’t good enough? What if Aiden thinks that Lambert is a lousy boyfriend who can’t take well enough care of him?

Deep breaths, Lambert. In, out. In, out. In-

Shit, why are there so many people in this fucking airport? Lambert stands in his usual corner, shying away from the crowds, averting everyone’s eyes as he stares at his phone. He shoots his brothers a text in their group chat - Have I ever told u guys how much I h8 crowds? - hoping that they will understand and distract him from the panic welling up in his chest. As he waits for an answer from either Geralt or Eskel, Lambert switches to his Facebook app and scrolls through his feed. He doesn’t have to wait long until the group chat pings with Geralt’s response.

G: You’ve mentioned it once or twice… or 100

Lambert snorts as he shoots a sassy comeback.

So mentioning it 1 more time won’t hurt. I fucking h8 goddamn crowds.

A quick glance at the arrivals screen tells Lambert that Aiden’s plane landed a few short minutes ago. Not long before they are reunited and able to hug it out in the middle of the airport. At this point, Lambert doesn’t give a shit anymore about what other people think of them. He almost lost Aiden, so he will go on his knees and hug him, wheelchair be damned. Lambert looks around him and sees many families and loved ones itching to welcome the soldiers back. Some of them brought flowers, or the puppy they bought last week as a welcome-home present, and even newborn babies. Lambert wonders if he should have bought Aiden a gift to commemorate the beginning of his retirement. He feels like that would be in bad taste considering Aiden’s feelings on the matter.

The first soldiers start to filter through the door, eyes scanning the room and lighting up when they land on familiar faces. Many people cry tears of joy and relief, others manage to keep a modicum of composure, and some even let out shrill cries of joy as they are finally reunited with the people they love and cherish the most. There is still no sight of Aiden and part of Lambert worries that something happened to him in the week it took the military to organise his repatriation. Feeling the panic well up in him again, Lambert pulls out his phone and opens the group chat window. L: What if he doesn’t come back?

It doesn’t take long for his phone to vibrate with Eskel’s response.

E: As if he’d pass up an opportunity to come back to his pain in the ass boyfriend.

L: Ass.

G: He’ll come back, Lamb. He’ll come back and he’s not leaving again.

Lambert takes a deep breath as he lets these words run through his mind. Aiden is coming back. He’s coming back. He’s-

“Why, hello there,” a familiar voice breaks through the storm raging in Lambert’s head, “come here often?”

Aiden looks so… so like himself. He’s sporting that familiar cocksure grin and his eyes shimmer with all the emotions he can’t bring himself to voice. His voice sounds so self-assured, even though Lambert knows he’s only a breath away from losing it and crying tears of relief. His hair is slightly longer and Lambert can make out the familiar dark curls he loves so much. Aiden looks so much like his old self that Lambert forgets, for a short minute, that he’s missing the lower half of his left leg entirely.

“Aiden. You’re here.”

“No place I’d rather be.”

Lambert doesn’t feel himself fall to his knees until they hit the solid surface of the airport floor, cracking in protest at the impact. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around Aiden’s middle, squeezing tightly and burying his face in his boyfriend’s stomach. He’s unable to bite back the tears this time, and if Aiden notices that the soft material of his t-shirt is soaked right through, he doesn’t draw attention to it. Instead, he cards his fingers through Lambert’s short hair, softly shushing him and whispering heartfelt reassurances in the air pocket between them.

“I’m here, baby,” Aiden tells him over and over, “I’m back. I’m here, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I missed you,” Lambert hears himself say, “I missed you. I was so scared, Aiden, you don’t understand-”

“I’m here, Lamb. I’m here. You don’t have to be scared, anymore.”

They’ve got so much shit to figure out, Lambert knows. They need to think about all the adjustments they need to make to their lives, all the paperwork they’ll have to fill out, therapy sessions they have to book and medical insurance they need to update. All these things that terrified Lambert a few hours earlier, all these plans that made panic well in him and want to run for the hills… all these worries weighing him down disappear the second Lambert feels Aiden’s arms around him, squeezing him, comforting him.

“I’m not scared,” Lambert assures Aiden, pulling back and straightening up so he can place a soft kiss on Aiden’s lips. They still feel the same against his own, they still taste the same, too. Nothing has changed. Aiden is still Aiden. “Not anymore.”

“Anymore?” There’s a teasing edge in Aiden’s voice, a mocking grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, kitten. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I gotcha. Now shut up and kiss me again.”

Lambert happily obliges Aiden’s request. Their lips slot against each other like they didn’t just spend a year apart. Their kiss is tender and soft at first, but Lambert is quick to deepen it by licking Aiden’s bottom lip. Neither of them cares about the potential eyes on him - nobody is likely to pay attention to them, not when they’re all lost in the joy of being reunited with their own family members. Lambert breaks the kiss briefly to whisper a soft ‘I love you’ to Aiden. His cheeks turn red as he speaks those three words which still feel too intimate to be loudly proclaimed in public, even after all these years. Aiden steals another kiss before reciprocating the sentiment, his breath ghosting over Lambert’s lips and sending a peasant shiver coursing through his body.

They have lots of shit to figure out, but Aiden is here and he’s not going anywhere. Aiden is here, and neither of them has to deal with the situation on their own. They’ll be just fine. Everything will be just fine.

[bybibucky]

Honey, Just Tell Him

Bucky Barnes x reader One Shot

     You’re much less quiet about your obsession with the idea of being fucked by Bucky Barnes than you should be. What if, one day, he catches on?

     word count: 5.4k

     warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), a smidge dubcon, oral (f receiving), choking, gagging, exhibitionism, bit of bondage, spanking, face slapping, degradation

note: idk what exactly happened here but this is my filthiest one yet. the working title was BUCKY VIOLENT SMUT so do with that what you will. feel free to yell at me in the comments

Bucky Barnes was strong. Everybody knew this, everybody was intimidated. He was a bit of a violent guy – came with the territory – and everybody flinched whenever he rose his voice. Granted, that wasn’t often, but recruits knew not to approach him unprompted. He wouldn’t actually hurt them, especially not the new ones, but he had a century worth of deadly reflexes on his side, and anyone would be clever not to tempt him into letting his inhibitions go.

But you, you wanted those inhibitions gone. Practically every mission you were on with him, whenever you watched him squeeze the life out of various villains with that fucking metal arm, whenever you marveled at his insane precision every time he pulled the trigger on one of his guns, whenever he threw his favorite knife, you were as wet between your legs as the blood seeping from Bucky’s victims.

It was hot beyond relief and such a contrast to his sweetheart-self at home. Not that he wasn’t sexy every minute of every day, but this danger that oozed off of him whenever he needed to be a weapon was difficult for you not to find attractive.

“You have to stop staring at him.” Natasha came up right next to you, and you almost jumped out of your skin. That pathetic hiding spot behind one of the punching bags that hung from the ceiling apparently wasn’t all that secretive. “He’ll notice it one day. If he hasn’t already.” The sound of her voice traveled from one of your ears to the other as she walked to stand behind you so you wouldn’t be seen by Bucky. To your luck, he was preoccupied with his own punching bag.

“I can’t,” you whispered, “and you know it.” Your obsession had become prominent enough for it to be your main topic on girls’ nights.

“Honey, just tell him.” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, but her tone was traced with annoyance.

“Tell him?” you screeched, though still barely above a whisper, “tell him what exactly? Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?”

Natasha couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Maybe not in those exact words. But I’m willing to bet he’d fuck you sideways till Sunday or whatever you want to call it if you just asked. He’s not shy about it.”

You groaned. You were painfully aware of how not-shy he was about his sex life. There barely passed a night in which you didn’t have to listen to Bucky going to town with a random girl he had brought home. His room was next to yours, and at this point you were convinced that the universe had constructed this specifically to torture you. “Don’t remind me.”

As Bucky sent the already weak punching bag flying across the room with a hearty kick, you were ready to whimper. The image of you getting shoved against a wall in a similar fashion was instantly on your mind. Helpless, you felt jealousy grow in your chest when Bucky waved over a new recruit towards the sparring mat.

Natasha chuckled beside you, taking a deep breath to get ready to ruin your life. “Hey, Barnes!” She stepped around the punching bag, pulling you with her. “I got a better opponent for you!”

A minute later, you were stood at the opposite side of the mat, facing Bucky. You weren’t enhanced yourself, much like Nat wasn’t, but you had taken him down before. Although, you weren’t sure you would again, not if he looked like that. The shirt was rudely tight and even the obvious sweat stains didn’t repulse you, rather on the contrary. He was panting, that signature smirk on his lips taunting you.

“Anything off limits?” he asked and you already felt your stance weaken.

You shook your head. “You know the drill, Barnes.”

“Then c’mon, doll,” he said lowly, “give me everything you’ve got.”

Naturally, you pounced. His hands met you half way, firm around your waist to throw you over his shoulder a second later, but yours were still free to punch him straight in the jaw. He didn’t take the time to wipe at the corner of his mouth were a bead of blood was gathering, of course he didn’t, and instead spun you around, one arm switching to wrap around your throat. It wasn’t enough to cut off your airway and you appreciated that. It gave you the opportunity to drop your weight in his hands. He’d let go, you knew it, so he wouldn’t actually choke you, and you would use that as leverage to hook a leg around one of his to make him falter.

Bucky fell, rolling over in an attempt not to crush you, and you sighed when he gave you enough time to get back on your feet.

“You’re holding back,” you said, complaining. This wasn’t how training was supposed to go.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” His stance called for a time out, and you relaxed as well.

“Yeah,” you said, “you’re coddling me and you’re giving me all those opportunities to take advantage of you.”

Bucky laughed, whole-heartedly. “You’re taking advantage of me?”

Your lips pulled together in a pout. “Haven’t you noticed? You’re open everywhere. It’s no fun if you let me win.”

His smile darkened. “So you’re telling me to go all in? No mercy whatsoever?”

“Yes, obviously!” You bounced on the balls of your feet, excited now. You’d been craving a real challenge. Okay, more like craving something vastly different from Bucky, but this was the next best thing.

A second later, your back smacked against the mat, wind knocked from your lungs. You hadn’t even seen it coming. “What the fuck,” you coughed, Bucky’s face appeared above you. “I wasn’t ready.”

He cocked his head. “You said no mercy. Nobody would wait for you in a real fight.”

“This is a real fight.” Your lungs were still not fully filling up and you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

Bucky laughed again. “Not a fair one, doll. You’d never win against me.”

Like hell you wouldn’t. Once you had regathered your strength and will to fight, your hands flew up, trying to push him off, but he was quicker. In one swift move, he trapped your wrists above your head. No matter how much you struggled, they wouldn’t budge.

“Face it, doll.” God, when had his mouth become so close? “You’re a weak little thing. Nothing against my power. I could do anything I want to you like this and you’d just have to endure it. Only begging can help you now.”

A whimper caught in your throat and you swallowed it down. He couldn’t know.

But his hearing was enhanced. “What was that, princess? Am I hurting you?”

He was but you couldn’t let it show. You shook your head. Any second the two of you stayed in this position was too amazing to pass up on. Princess?

Bucky leant down to whisper. “Don’t lie to me.” His hot breath fanned across your neck, forcing out goosebumps in their wake. “It won’t do you any good.”

You were at a loss for words. What had gotten into him? Part of you was suddenly convinced you had hit your head too hard against the mat and where now unconscious and dreaming. But when he scraped his teeth along your jaw line, practically biting down, you knew. No dream felt like this. You felt your nipples as taut pebbles against your sports bra, your core practically aching already.

“You’re wet, aren’t you, doll?” he asked, and you shook your head vehemently. But Bucky scoffed, “bad girl. Still lying even when I told you not to.” He wouldn’t let up, instead spoke again, and you pressed your thighs together at his words. “I can smell it on you.”

Now you couldn’t hold back the whimper. It forced itself out of your throat in a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Bucky chuckled. “There we go,” he said, still so fucking close to your ear. “I told you you’d lose against me.”

You shook your head, entire body thrashing with it. The attempt wasn’t to get him off you, but rather because you couldn’t contain your energy. His words were doing unspeakable things to you.

“No?” The mocking tone hadn’t left his voice. “Go on, then. Try to escape.” But your hands were glued to the mat, he didn’t even try to spare you some of his colossal weight that pressed against your body. That and the sheer weight of his words kept you immobilized entirely. “Thought so.”

You puffed out a breath in annoyance. This wasn’t fair at the slightest. He was being mean for no damn reason. But you couldn’t deny the way it was making you feel. Being at his mercy like this was exhilarating.

His free hand firmly grasped your jaw. “I don’t like that little attitude on you,” he said and with the way he was holding you, it was impossible for you to respond. “You think you can just lie here, pretending you’re not fucking turned on, when we both know that you’re parading your filthy state of mind all day every day?”

Oh God, did he somehow know about your pathetic crush on him? Was this punishment for letting it consume you?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he continued, “you’re not the innocent victim in this. You’ve been telling everyone in detail how you want me to rail you. ‘Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?’ That can be arranged, doll. You could have just asked.”

Was he actually serious? This had to be some cruel joke. “Did Nat tell you?” Suddenly, there was deep pit in your stomach. But Bucky wouldn’t have any of it.

“She didn’t have to,” he said, “not only can I smell your arousal �� by the way, it’s so prominent right now that I can almost taste it – but you can’t really hide from my enhanced hearing. Especially when we’re in the same room and you’re literally begging to be fucked.” The hand on your jaw finally released you, only to run down the hollow of your throat until it found the hemline of your sports bra. Inches away from your breasts, you arched your back, trying to push them into his grip.

“Oh, you really are a little slut,” Bucky murmured, “aren’t you, princess?”

It didn’t feel like a question, so you didn’t reply. But the need to shake your head in a pathetic attempt to maintain your propriety remained.

“No?” He almost laughed, and you felt the offending puff of air against your neck. “So you don’t touch yourself and moan my name? You’ve never told any of your friends how you want me to fuck you hard enough to leave bruises? Because I’m pretty sure I heard you. Are you telling me I imagined all of that?”

You wished you could tell him that he was imagining it, that there wasn’t an undeniable pool of your arousal seeping through your yoga pants – which he could apparently smell – and that you weren’t hungry for him like you like you hadn’t eaten in months. But he had told you not to lie. You shook your head once more.

Bucky smiled against your skin. “Then tell me, princess, are you a little whore?” He finally brushed his fingers against your nipple and that alone compelled you to say, “yes!”

“There we go,” he hummed, “you can’t hide from me.” Briefly, he pushed your wrists into the mat, signaling for you to keep them there. At this point, you had almost forgotten they were there at all, so at ease with being unable to move.

Then, less asking for permission – because he knew he had it – and more finally taking what he wanted, he wrenched open your legs, calloused hands firmly on your knees. They slid up, up towards your center, but ignored it completely, and you were ready to cry when they settled on your stomach instead.

You whined high in your throat, and Bucky full-on laughed at you. “You want me to touch your cunt, is that it?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question, “poor thing. You’ve been bad, princess.”

Princess. There it was again. Where was that coming from? Before today, he had never used that word, much less in this context, but you didn’t get the opportunity to think about it further, because Bucky tore at the fabric of your sports bra and pushed it up, finally freeing your tits. Instantly, he attached his mouth to one of your nipples – all teeth, sucking harshly.

“God, fuck!”

Bucky came up for air, regarding you for a half-second. “Shut up,” he said, an unimpressed growl in his voice, “you want the whole compound to hear us?”

You hadn’t thought of that. Right now, you had your tits out in the middle of the gym. There were floor-to-ceiling windows practically everywhere. Anyone could see. But you didn’t care. All you wanted was more of Bucky, whatever he would give you.

Before you could give him an answer, he brought your scrunched-up bra higher up until it was level with your mouth, and without waiting for you to react, he shoved the fabric between your teeth. You were trapped, arms pressed against your head as the tight garment held them in place, silencing you.

He went on, bringing all his attention to your other nipple while the first one lie completely forgotten, soaked skin tortured by the air conditioning. You wanted to touch it yourself, twist and pull to imitate his teeth but you weren’t allowed.

“More,” you moaned instead, voice muffled by your sports bra. You could feel him smile against your bud, the tender skin slick with his spit there as well.

“You need to learn to behave, little girl,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, his face back in front of yours, “you’ve wanted me for so long and now that you finally have me you can’t wait five minutes?” He scoffed. “I thought you were better than that.”

Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to beg. “Please, Bucky, please.” Speaking now – as coherently as you could – you didn’t recognize your own voice. The desperation was heavy and a borderline moan traced every syllable, even through your makeshift gag.

Bucky took pity on you. Partly, at least. He leaned back to unceremoniously pull at your yoga pants as well as you underwear until you were completely bare from the head down. There was a significant rise in his power like this, him above you fully clothed while he had you writhe and moan naked beneath him. You loved every second.

Fully bypassing your clit where he knew for a fact was the place you ached for him the most, Bucky plunged two of his fingers straight into your pussy. They were thick, thicker than your own, and longer on top of that, instantly reaching spots you could only dream of by yourself. You were ready to mewl but the possibility of him stopping at all when he had barely begun and it already felt like this was too much of a threat.

Bucky watched your nostrils flare as you tried your best not to cry out while also continuing to bring enough air into your lungs. One hand keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers fucking into your cunt, the other went to stroke your chest. “You think you can be a good girl for me and stay quiet?” he asked, and it was the gentlest he had been this whole time, “I’ll get you out of this.” His free hand found your makeshift gag, slightly pulling the fabric tighter against your lips. It was now fully lodged between your teeth. He was teasing you.

You nodded as much as you could in your restraint. Part of you wanted it gone. What if you moaned again, then? Would he punish you?

“If you say so,” he drew the words out, warning you. And he slipped the sports bra, its fabric soaked in your spit, up your arms and off. One-handed, unsurprisingly, and kept his other hand between your legs, warm flesh fingers pumping into you. His thumb joined the party, lightly flicking your clit and you would have almost lost your composure, had it not been for the raise of Bucky’s brow. You didn’t want to disappoint just seconds after being granted some mercy.

You had known he was good at this – countless nights of having to listen to him take apart is conquests were proof enough – but you hadn’t expected the feeling of drowning like this. Cotton in your ears, you noticed yourself to be almost paralyzed. Anything physical that was restraining you was gone by this point, his hands only there to pleasure you. What kept you without movement were solely his words and your desire to be good for him.

But then, his metal fingers replaced his flesh hand in your pussy, consequently hitting the most delicious spot while he kept his thumb on your clit, and you couldn’t contain the high-pitched moan that burst from your lips in surprise. It was met, even more shockingly, with Bucky’s hand slipping from you only to slap across your cheek.

Your head whipped to the side harshly, almost straining your neck. He eyed you dangerously when you looked back at him and your stomach churned.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

The thought was there. That you should lie, deny him that power over you, but he would have seen right through it.

“Don’t play innocent. I could feel your walls clench around me, grip me so fucking tight,” he groaned, “wanna squeeze my cock like that, princess?”

The frantic nodding of your head happened on its own accord and your hips bucking only underlined it further. He laughed at you.

“Fucking hell you’re desperate,” he said, “and I’m all here for it.” The confession was accompanied by a bruising kiss. He stopped his ministrations on your pussy, but the kiss was so good that you didn’t even fully notice. It was the first of its kind, Bucky’s lips tangling with yours deliciously. Tiny, tiny whimpers slipped through and he ate them all up, quite literally.

When he pulled away, his eyes were even darker than before, they almost weren’t even blue anymore. You were certain your facial expression mirrored his, though presumably, you looked more wrecked that he ever would.

“I should keep you like this forever,” he mused, “bound and chained to any flat surface just for me to take you and take you until you’re bruised and aching, dripping with cum. You would be the pettiest sight.”

Your breath hitched. The thought of that was starting to get to you embarrassingly harshly. It sounded it amazing.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he continued, “wanna be a good little girl for me?”

“Please.”

“Think you’ve been good enough for me to taste you?” he asked and you went to respond but Bucky answered for himself, “I don’t think you have. A good girl wouldn’t have flaunted herself, worn those skimpy little outfits when outside it’s fucking snowing, told anyone who would listen how much you need to get railed. No, you’ve been bad, asking for it without actually asking for it.” Bucky slapped you square on the thigh and you jumped in surprise, whimpering.

“That’s what I want,” he said, “so sensitive that you flinch when I raise my hand, reduced to nothing but a complying, whimpering mess.”

Your eyes nearly rolled back in bliss. That simple thought went further than your own fantasies, but sounded delicious. “Your mess,” you agreed. Bucky smiled.

By now, you were dripping down to his wrist, your pussy letting out a filthy squelch every time he pushed his metal fingers in. Accidentally focusing on that, on how embarrassing it really was, you didn’t register how Bucky propped himself up on his elbows between your thighs, but the first contact of his tongue against your cunt definitely didn’t go unnoticed. You bucked against his face on accident and Bucky pulled back instantly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled, “you’ll take whatever I give you, not a fraction more.”

But you couldn’t stop. Being turned on way past the breaking point, and his mouth was too skilled for you to just lie there, unresponsive. Bucky got up a moment later, cussing you out under his breath as he walked over to the wall of weights across the room.

You thought he was leaving you altogether, that you had annoyed him one too many times, but the thoughts died right when you opened your mouth to call after him. Because Bucky returned, a barbell in hand. Eyes widening, you watched it come closer until it sat square across your abdomen. It wasn’t tight enough to make breathing more difficult, but enough to trap you against the mat. He smirked at the sight, towering above you.

“This is what happens if you don’t comply, princess,” he said darkly, “but you’ll bend against my will eventually, even if I have to force you.”

Bucky was back between your legs before you knew it, resuming his work against your pussy. He forewent your clit entirely, much to your dismay, but beneath the little contraption, you had no choice but to endure the teasing.

He looked up at you the entire time, watching your reactions closely as he ran the tip of his tongue across your lips lazily. He was waiting for you to break, prompting a punishment the closer he got to your clit. But you were stubborn, unwilling to let him win this. You would behave and stay quiet like your life depended on it.

Bucky saw that and chose to grant you some mercy and he suddenly felt the urge to witness you climax from just his tongue alone. He watched your eyes screw shut the moment he latched his lips to your clit and sucked, running his flat tongue all over it a second later. Somewhere deep down he knew she should reprimand you, tell you to keep your eyes on him and not your own fantasies, but the sight was prettier than he had imagined. You looked better than any girl before you, had a richer taste, more exhilarating smell and feel, and were altogether breathtaking. He should have done this much sooner.

But you didn’t give him more time to contemplate, as you began to involuntarily fight against your restraint, bucking your hips for more friction where you craved it the most. You were close, that much was clear, and even though he wanted to torture you some more and deny you that pleasure, if you looked this already, he needed to know what you would look like orgasming.

You held it off for as long as you could. Then, you began to beg. “Please,” you whined, not caring about the consequence, “please, Bucky, please. I need to cum. Fuck, fuck, please let me cum.”

Bucky listened to your begging for a while longer, urging you on with two fingers against your g-spot and his tongue on your clit. Once your words turned into incoherent babbling, he knew it was time. “Come on, then, princess,” he said, voice still hard, “cum for me. Right now or you won’t cum at all.”

And you did. Finally being granted permission, you allowed yourself to let go, to let all that pent-up frustration wash over you in a tidal wave that shook you to the core. A string of broken curses left your lips with a volume that went silent against your own deaf ears. In all that haze, you even lifted the bar on your chest about an inch off the ground, pushing your hips further into Bucky’s hands. His ministrations kept going, keeping you going, and pulled every fraction of your orgasm from your body until you were reduced to a whimpering heap of heavy limbs.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, making his way back up your body. He ripped the weights off of you and effortlessly tossed them across the room. “Gonna fuck you now, baby.”

You whined in response, the only response you managed.

“What was that, princess?” he asked panting, right in front of your face, “think you can take me?”

When he had shoved down his pants and underwear, you had no idea, but suddenly, you felt the head of his cock against your thigh. You jumped in surprise. Bucky chuckled.

“Thought so.” But he angled himself against you anyway, before slowly pushing in. “Fuck,” he moaned instantly. Not even when you dared to thrust your hips against his did he intervene, instead he let it slide this one time. But you grew cocky, and did it again. You weren’t able to a third time, however, because Bucky wrapped the metal hand around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you all the way. “Feeling brave, are we?”

The growl in his voice did not fall to deaf ears. And deep down, you felt bad for not following orders but the feeling of finally getting fucked by Bucky Barnes was too great. “Please, I can’t wait anymore. Please I need it so bad.” His grip around your throat wasn’t tight enough for you to stay silent.

“I’m gonna have to teach you patience, princess,” he scoffed, “this won’t do.” But instead of making true to his word, he simply grabbed your hip harshly, angling them up towards his. The movement brought blissful friction against your g-spot, and you couldn’t contain the yelp. Bucky placed his flesh hand over you mouth, the metal one still around your neck. “Next time.”

With that, he began a brutal pace. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight, little slut.” The words were more growled that spoken, gritted teeth displaying how concentrated he was. Bucky was chasing his own pleasure above yours, partly as punishment, partly because he couldn’t help it. But you wouldn’t complain with the way his thrusts hit all the right spots anyway.

The urge to scream his name was there, but all that came out was a muffled whine. Bucky leant down, smirking. “Huh? You trying to say something? Too bad.” His hips only moved faster, harder, and you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock.

He lifted you, balancing you on his thighs as he used your hips for leverage. You could feel your skin getting caught between the plates of his metal hand. Bucky watched your jaw fall slack and eyes screw shut.

“You better keep looking at me, princess,” he hissed between his gritted teeth, “and don’t you dare make a sound.”

That was easier said than done. With the way he was making you feel so fucking good, they way he spoke, you developed a kink for his voice right there and then. The whines with every breath you took were much harder to hold back. When Bucky grew tired of it, he tore off his own shirt only to shove it between your teeth. “Shut up.”

His strong scent engulfed you instantly, and you could clearly discern a mix of his deodorant and sweat from working out. It was relentlessly filthy but this close to edge, it wouldn’t matter what he forced on you, it would turn you on. Embarrassingly enough, a long moan could be heard even through the soaked fabric in your mouth when Bucky rubbed his thumb all over your clit.

“You need to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, also slightly breathless by now.

You nodded harshly, desperate to be good for him, to silently beg for him as much as you could. And he chose to be merciful.

The nod came before his words. “Do it.” His voice held a strained grumble. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock. Cum like the good whore that you are.”

And, fuck, you did. The second orgasm was completely different from the first. That one would have pulled your legs from beneath you had you been standing, rolling over you in a blissful wave. This one tightened all your muscled simultaneously, a slow-motion tingle in every corner of your nerves. You arched your back, shuddering your hips in his hold for even more friction. The scream was only silenced by his shirt, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were grateful for it.

Bucky felt your walls clench around his girth as he continued to fuck you in deep, harsh thrusts that only spurred your orgasm on further. “Fuck,” was all he said, groaning in bliss as he watched you cum, all for him.

It didn’t take long for him to follow you down the rabbit hole. His hips faltered as he struggled to keep up the reckless rhythm. “Fuck, princess.” Bucky was close, that much was evident in his heated stare. “Look at me, slut” he said, “look at me when I cum inside you.”

You obliged, because it was all you were left to handle. Only him.

“Want me to fill you up?” he asked, voice hoarse, “mark you as mine?” Your frantic nods were all he needed. His gaze was glued to yours, and you kept your eyes unblinking, unwilling to miss even one second of his orgasm. And it was worth it. His hair matted to his forehead, a deep focused crease between his brows, his hands in an unwavering grip around your hips, he stopped just barely, and you felt him shoot his load. He began thrusting again moments after, riding out his orgasm. If he made any noise, you were unaware, you hardly heard a thing over your own ringing ears.

The mixture of his cum and yours oozed out of you the moment he pulled out, and you were ready to feel ashamed about it, but Bucky gathered your legs straight up in the air with one hand, leaning down to lick up every trace of the mess you had made. It was, while filthy beyond belief, also insanely hot.

You accidentally let out a surprised whine. Bucky responded with an almost playful slap to your thigh while keeping his mouth on your pussy. The shock and your remaining sensitivity made you jump from the impact, shutting you up in the process.

“Thought so,” Bucky mumbled against your skin. Once he was done cleaning up as much as he could, which only were a few more seconds, he gently placed your feet on the mat. Careful not to touch you, he moved to lie beside you, one arm propping up his head, the other pulling out the soaked shirt.

You felt his cool metal fingers brush away small strands of hair, and watched him curiously.

“How are you doing?” he asked, voice still slightly hoarse but having lost that mean tilt.

“Good,” you whispered, “you?”

Bucky nodded. “Same.” He paused. “Was that too much?”

You nodded instantly without really thinking it through, but when Bucky took another moment to answer, you realized it was the truth.

“I know you weren’t expecting it.”

“It’s okay,” you said, “I really liked what you did.”

At that, he offered you a toothy grin. “Yeah? Maybe we should repeat it sometime.”

Before you could move to agree, you heard Tony’s voice over the speakers. “Look, I’m glad you guys finally bumped uglies,” he said, voice obviously annoyed, “but I’d appreciate it if the entire compound wouldn’t be part of it next time, yeah? Barnes, we talked about this. The gym is a public space and not your personal fuck room.” There was a click in the speakers which told you that Tony was done, but you were too occupied with staring at Bucky in shock.

“What? I told you to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

Grinning his cocky grin, Bucky rolled back on top of you. “I’ll show you­–“ But he wouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Guys! Get a fucking room!”

::::::::::

‘Everything’ Tags: @alphaabucky​ @badassbaker @brieannakeogh @buckysmusculararm @captnbarnesrogers @courtneychicken @guccicloudz @diinofayce @hellomissmabel @hiddles-rose @iamwarrenspeace @imrisaluk @jjbarnesgirl @Julliiaaq @justanotherbuckydevotee @kimcarcrashin @letaliabane @lovely-garbage @paisl20y @palaiasaurus64 @partlybcrnes @rebelfleur22 @silverwolf7850  @sunnyandtwisty @taliarosej00 @teacher-crushed @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi @thevanishedillusion @thelostallycat @xcrawlerwood @iscasahufflepuff​

‘Bucky Only’ Tags: @bandbooktvaddict @bonky-bornes @cassandras-musings @courtmr @joyofbebbanburg @ladyjthewriter @ria132love

‘Smutty’ Tags: @bandbooktvaddict @bonky-bornes @letaliabane​

– you can get tagged through an ask or here

[nat-roman0ff]

the smell after rain

the smell after rain

chris evans x female reader word count: 3,421 warnings: smut; oral (male & female recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it, and all that), and some naughty words. - summary: it’s a rainy day, so you and chris do what you do best - fuck. a/n: i don’t think i can ever not write smut anymore. - Rain pangs against the glass of the windows that surround you. It’s late morning, but the dreary rainy day has casted a shade of grey in the usually sunny back room. It’s your favorite room in Chris’s Massachusetts farm house; enclosed in glass, looking out into the lush vast backyard and acres of privacy. It’s that weird time of year in New England between winter and spring where everything is cold and wet but the trees are budding and the grass is bright green and your allergies are revolting against you. 

 You sniff loudly, not on purpose, but it’s enough for Chris to lift his head from the book he’s buried in. 

 “Allergies still?” He gives you a soft look from the sofa across the room. 

 You nod from the chase lounge and pull your throw blanket up tighter, readjusting the book in your hand. 

 Days like these are your favorite; quiet, spent together but given much needed space. The record player spins a Stevie Wonder vinyl and a mug of hot coffee is by your side. It's the kind of day where nothing extraordinary happens, where you don’t know if it’s 8am or noon, the kind that you can get lost in pure existence. 

“Do you want some more coffee?” Chris asks, gesturing to the half empty mug on the small table beside you. 

 “Please?” 

 Your boyfriend grins, “of course.”

 Chris crosses the room, planting a kiss on the top of your head and leaving the room with your mug. You place your book down, pages split across your chest and sigh, wishing you could just breathe through your goddamn nose normally again. With a frustrated groan, you close your eyes and lean back, focusing on the pleasant rhythm of the rain bouncing around the glass room.

 You’re snapped from it when you hear the soft pat of Chris’s footsteps coming back in. You lift your heavy head and grin, Chris cocks his head and gives an empathetic look. 

 “I brought you some meds -”

 “I don’t need to take anything,” you groan, “it’s just allergies I’ll be f—”

 You’re cut off by your own sneeze and Chris opens his palm to reveal the two pills in his hand, “take it. I’m tired of listening to you sniffle every thirty seconds.”

 “Fine,” you glare, making sure to sniff extra loud.

 You sit up in the lounger and take a sip of your warm coffee. It burns the tip of your tongue, and you make a mental note to remind Chris not to put so much sugar in your next cup. He settles back onto the sofa across from you; an ugly old red couch that somehow fits into the cozy space the two of you were sharing. Feeling lonely, you get up, tiptoeing across the room to stand in front of your boyfriend.

 “Can I help you?” He asks, a blueprint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

 You pout, “I wanna cuddle.” 

 “I’m reading,” he replies, and looks back down to his book, crossing his legs across the cushions, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

 You take a half step closer, the tops of your bare thighs touching the spine of his book, “please? I’m cold and lonely.” 

 “You’re the one who decided not to wear pants,” Chris tuts as he turns the page, not bothering to look up.

 You bite your lower lip for a second with a thought; you love the teasing, and Chris loves it too. He loves to leave you desperate and begging for him, at any cost. You’re not sure why the feeling suddenly came over you. It wasn’t necessarily a craving of lust, although that was never something you’d turn down with Chris, but more of an overwhelming feeling of intimacy. The want to be close to him, to melt into his edges and him into yours. To leave you bare and naked until you were nothing more than a series of silent screams and Godly declarations, limbs intertwined, fingers grabbing at anything they can touch.

 It starts in your feet, the tingling. Then it works up your spine, raising each little hair on your arms until it charges in your fingertips. You stand dazed in front of your nonchalant boyfriend, dizzy at the thought of him fucking you senselessly into that goddamn ugly ass couch he’s had since he was twenty.

 “Please, baby?” You whine, toying with the bottom hem of Chris’s oversized shirt that you wore. 

 Chris licks his lips, his eyes flickering to watch the way your fingertips dance across your skin, craving to touch you, but knowing he has to wait just a little longer. He adjusts himself slightly, hoping you won’t notice.

 You do, and you smirk to yourself.

 “No,” he says sternly, “I have to read this for a role and it’s getting to a good part. Later, I promise.” 

 He knows you’re a woman who refuses to admit defeat. It’s one of the things he loves the most about you, one of the reasons he has a velvet lined box hidden in the bathroom air vent waiting for the perfect time to present you with the shiny engagement ring inside of it. He knows you’re a woman who refuses to admit defeat, but if there’s anyone who can match your stubbornness,

 it’s him.

 “I’ll suck your dick,” you offer. 

 It catches him off guard and he chokes on his own spit, “what?” 

 “I’ll suck your dick,” you repeat, “keep reading, I’ll take care of you.” 

 You drop to your knees and Chris still stares at you in bewilderment. It definitely wasn’t the first time you’d sucked his dick, nor had it been the first time in this room, or on this couch, or wearing this shirt or on this day of the week. Chris stares at you in bewilderment because he can’t believe how goddamn fucking lucky he got. He swears he must’ve been a saint in a past life.

 Chris is half hard when your hand palms over him, he’s thought about you bent over the couch at least a dozen times in the last half hour alone, and another dozen in the five seconds between you dropping to your knees and touching him. His hips move at your touch, when your hand gently runs across the protruding outline of his grey sweatpants. You always tell him they’re a man’s version of lingerie. 

 He sucks in a sharp breath, trying desperately to concentrate on his book, but your fucking hands. You’re not even properly touching him yet and he’s turning to goo; still two layers of fabric between your skin and his and he’s lost his goddamn mind. You know you’re winning, and he’s starting to realize it too. 

 Your fingertips play with the waistband of his boxer briefs that stick out just a smidge above his sweatpants, your cold fingertips toying with the edge, grazing the thatch of hair that gathers above it. Finally, your hand disappears under the fabric, palming him under his boxers. Chris lets out a struggled breath, and your eyes flicker to his. 

 “You’re too easy,” you chuckle. 

 He sighs, “you’re playing with my ding dong, it’s a little hard to concentrate.” 

 You snort, “ding dong?”

 Before Chris can answer you release his hard cock from it’s cloth prison, your fingers wrapped loosely around it. You bring your head down to give the hearty vein that runs across it a lick, base to tip, swirling your tongue the way he likes. 

 You waste no time going to work, hallowing your cheeks as you take as much of him in as you can, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat. Your head bobs, in a slow and steady rhythm, your hand taking care of what your mouth can’t. Chris’s hips buck up into you, hitting the back of your throat again, but the longer you take him, the more you grow used to it. It’s when you’ve taken him all the way that the book falls from his hand and flutters to the floor with a thud. 

 Chris bundles your hair up in his hands, guiding you up and down on his cock, watching your mouth take him all the way. His fingers tighten into a fist, pulling at your hair as he guides you, “fuck yeah babygirl, just like that. I love watching you take all of me.” 

 Your fingernails dig into his thighs, moaning against his cock, the vibrations making his eyes roll to the back of his head. When they return and refocus they’re dark.

 He has plans for you.

 “That’s enough, babygirl,” Chris says, pulling you from him, your lips releasing his hardened cock with a pop. 

 He lets go of your hair and you quickly wipe away the spit from your mouth and the tiny tears that pricked your eyes from your triggered gag reflex. Chris sits up on the couch, pulling his pants and boxers all the way off and tugging off his tee shirt with one swift movement. You kneel between his legs, looking up at him through thick eyelashes, lusty, lips pink and tingling, the taste of him still on your tongue. 

 “Stand up,” he orders. 

 You follow his command and rise in front of him, hands at your side, eagerly awaiting his next demand. 

 “Take your shirt off. Well, take my shirt off,” he rolls his eyes and grins; even with dark eyes he always lands somewhere soft.

 You waste no time taking off the tee shirt. Reaching for the pair of tiny lace underwear you have on, Chris reaches out to stop you, his hand gripping your wrist, “keep those on for now.” 

 Neither of you move, the chill air in the room pricks at your skin, your nipples standing pert on your breasts. Chris leans forward, his large hands grazing the backs of your legs to bring you closer to him. You take a wobbly half step closer and he plants his mouth on your skin, kissing your lower belly.  

 Chris kisses as much skin as he can possibly reach; stretching across your stomach, hips and upper thighs. His hands roam freely across your ass, molding the soft flesh there and giving you a squeeze. When he’s satisfied he moves his hands upward to cup your breasts, his fingertips rolling your hardened nipples between them. They’re one of your sensitive spots. One touch there sends  a thousand lightening bolts to your sex. You can feel the wetness pooling when flicks his tongue against your left nipple then blows lightly, your head rolling back when he repeats to the other. 

 “I want you to sit on my face,” Chris says, the sound muffled as he talks with his lips pressed to your skin, “wanna make you come so hard you can’t fucking think straight.” 

 Chris pulls you closer and on top of him, nipping at your collarbone and neck before placing a single chaste kiss on your lips, “can I make you come now?” He asks, his words gentle, almost a whisper, against your lips.

 You let out a breathy laugh, “yeah, you can.” 

 He grins and adjusts himself, sliding off the edge of the couch and settling his face between your legs, thighs straddling his head. His hands rub your ass, his favorite part of you, giving you a hearty spank before kissing your clothed sex. You squeak at the sensation, and his hand squeezes the flesh of your ass harder, keeping you in place. Your hands grip the backside of the couch, looking out through the glass wall in front of you, pouring rain blurring your sightline to outside.

 There’s a quick burn against your skin before you realize Chris has ripped the lace from your body, his hand clutching the shredded remains of your underwear in his fist. 

 “You asshole! Those are one of my favorites! I could’ve just taken them off. What was the point of that?” You grovel. 

 Chris chuckles and shrugs, “dramatic effect?” 

 Before you have a moment to protest his mouth is on you. All your senses are dulled, ears ringing, all you can do is feel. Feel the way his tongue works against your sex, nose nudging against your clit. His beard tickles the inside of your thighs while you place a palm on the glass in front of you. The glass fogs with each breath you take, Chris’s mouth doing overtime on your clit, sucking and lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

 He adds two fingers at once, sliding them into your wet folds, curling his fingers to reach for your spot. He doesn’t find it on the first try, or the second, or the third. You’re grinding your face against him when he reaches it, your forehead pressing into the cold glass in front of you as you gasp out choked moans. 

 “Fuck, Chris right there. Don’t fucking stop.” 

 The rubber band in your lower belly twists when he hits your spot again, your whole body jerking against him. The glass room grows louder from the echoes of your moans, holding nothing back at this point. You don’t care if the neighbors a half mile away hear you. 

 Chris loves every second of it. He loves making you scream like you’re some kind of fucking porn star, screaming his name, moaning his name. He has the most perfect view of you, eyes screwed shut, a slight sheen of sweat building on your chest, nipples hard and skin pink, ready to burst. 

 “I’m gonna fucking come soon, please,” you plead, ready for your release. 

 You can barely take it, the way he knows the exact millisecond before you’re about to come - the way he gets you there only to back off, slow down and build you back up again, over and over until you’re breathless, panting his name between moans and curses. 

 When he finally lets you go, he swears it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Your hand slides from the glass to grip the back edge of the couch, taking in gasping huge breaths as you try and remember your first name. Chris’s tongue never stops, just slows, lapping up every aftershock your body releases as you come down from your high, your fingers eventually threading through his hair. 

 “Good?” He asks, letting you fall to the couch. 

 “Good,” you reply, as he sits beside you, rubbing your back as you return down to planet Earth. 

 Your eyes fall to his lap, and his pink, sore, throbbing cock, “want me to help with that?” 

 “No rush, babygirl.” 

 You muster what strength you do have and straddle his lap, grinding yourself against him, getting him slick and ready for you. Chris’s face disappears in your neck, buried in your hair, kissing your skin tacky with sweat. You reach between the two of you and give him a couple pumps before guiding him into you. Chris groans from somewhere deep inside of him when you bottom out. You don’t move, giving your body a second to adjust. 

 “It’s going to take me a second,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his already in an iron lock around your waist, “I’m still sensitive.” 

 “Take your time, I’m not gonna last long anyways,” he grunts. 

 Your walls clench around him and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. He might not be begging you to move, but his cock is, so you start slow. The first time sparks something in you, still not fully off your last high. You start thinking you might not last very long either.

 Chris loves when you ride him, he loves being able to hold you close while you fuck him. He loves watching you bounce, and the way you throw your head back when you come all over him. He loves watching you let go and fall apart on him, the rawness of it all. It’s not perfect; you’d fallen off the bed more times than he could count, or that one time you came so hard you accidentally punched a hole in the wall. It’s not perfect, but it’s you. 

 He loosens his vice grip around your waist to properly watch you, brushing your hair over your shoulders to see your breasts bounce in front of him. You grip his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin. You’re heading towards your high faster this time; the fullness of him overwhelms you, and when he adds the rough pad of his thumb to your clit, it’s game over. 

 Chris rubs circles into your clit as you ride him, skin slapping against skin. Beads of sweat pool at your temples, and the room begins to feel overwhelmingly hot, but your skin is still cool and clammy to the touch. The heat rises from your limbs, your fingers and toes, into your chest, and sternum and lands in your lower belly. It’s like waiting for an incoming tide. You work yourself harder on him, moving faster than ever, Chris trying to keep up as you chase desperately after your second high. 

 “Faster,” you breathe, and he quickens his pace, rubbing sloppy circles against your clit, hoping one of them will hit just right. 

 You feel it, fast and hard, the tide coming to shore. Your second orgasm is stronger than the first, and  you can feel your wetness leak over Chris’s thighs, skin slick as you moan out his name over and over threaded with colorful phrasing. 

 Without any time to come down, Chris wraps a strong arm around you, “I need you just a little bit longer babygirl,” he says, lifting you and bringing the both of you to the floor, the rug scratchy against your back. 

 “I don’t know if I can,” you say, breathless, your limbs weak. 

 Chris wastes no time thrusting back into you, jaw clenched tight, crease in the middle of his forehead strong with concentration, “one more for me, okay?” He says. 

 You nod your head and look at the glass ceiling, watching the rain pound against it and slide down the apex of the roof. It takes all of your strength to wrap your legs around Chris’s waist, pulling him in closer. 

 His thrusts grow sloppier with each one, the veins in his strong arms protruding, his skin shiny with sweat. Chris leans forward on one elbow, using his other arm to slide under you and prop up your lower body, allowing him a new angle. You both moan as he hits your spot over and over again. His thrusting is impossibly fast, slamming into you with all he has left in him. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with the breathless pants of your symphony. 

 You reach for Chris’s hand and intertwine your fingers with his. You can tell he’s close, he’s getting sloppy and slower, and finally he hits your spot in the way that leaves you seeing nothing but static stars. It’s a sucker punch to the gut; there’s no screaming his name, just a gasp of air and then a dizzying freefall back to reality. 

 Chris finishes soon after, with a flurry of your name intertwined with ‘I love yous’. He collapses on top of you, burying his face in your neck and hair, breathing you in every way he can.

 It’s quiet in the room again. The rain pours as it has all day and streaks against the glass walls, muddying the outside world. The two of you lay there a while, your fingers lingering up and down his sides, his skin prickling under your touch. His body had changed, he’d grown softer around his edges. Not that you minded; you preferred him on the softer side. He was better to cuddle with.

 “That was nice,” you hum.

 Chris lifts his head, “I just made you come three times, I would hope it was more than ‘nice’,” he laughs. 

 You snort and roll into him, hitching a leg over his hip, “it was amazing. Top ten performance.” 

 He smiles, “well I’m certainly glad to hear it was one of my better performances. You feeling better?” 

 You breathe through your nose 

 You breathe through your nose. 

 “Oh my god! I can breathe through my nose again!” You exclaim.

 Chris wraps his arm around you and squeezes tight, pecking your nose, “good. Want to go make some naked lunch? Should probably carb up after that.” 

 “Oh thank God, I’m starving.” 

[whorror-jpeg]

Eternum//ii

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Summary: After being turned into a wolf, Geralt struggles to find his way back to his body, unable to talk or do basic human things. In his journey, he meets a young woman, who hopes to help him.

Warnings: violence, light misogyny if you really read into it, adult language

Author’s Note: none

Previous, Next

Geralt had figured out he was in Temeria. Not at all pleasantly, by any means, but at least now he knew. He stalked around a small village outside of what seemed to be the outskirts of Vizima, closer to the forest. He trudged through quietly, if he tried hard enough he could pass as a dog, acting tame-like.

Geralt found no such luck.

“Wolf!!” A scared voice yells, childish in nature. Still, he continued walking, hoping that if he’d remained calm no one would actually bother him.

How wrong he was.

A large rock had been thrown harshly, hitting the back of his head with an aggressive thump. Without control, he whimpered before snarling, whipping his head around. Behind him stood a crowd of somewhat nervous and definitely angry people. A man picked up another rock, chucking it at Geralt, hitting the wolven head above his eye. Blood trickled down his face as his head was thrown back from the rocks force. Quickly, more rocks were being gathered and thrown at him until his legs gave out from the pain. He refused to harm these people, he didn’t blame them for attacking a monster. A few from the group gathered around him, large sticks and branches in hand, one carrying a much larger rock than that of the ones thrown before. He looked up at them before laying his head on the ground in defeat.

“Stop!” A voice yelled. Geralt’s head lifted once more, this time in response to the sound, “leave him be!” It yelled.

I’ll be damned.

It was the same woman as before, in the forest. She pushed past the crowd, then the men that had broken off from the group. Quickly she encased the wolf’s body with her own.

“Oi, get offa the beast. We’ll put it out of its misery.” Someone yells at the woman, Geralt didn’t know who, still covered by her body.

“Who are you to decide that when you are the reason for his ‘misery’.” The woman snaps.

“He’s useless, won’t last a day in the woods!” Another man sneers.

“Get yer bloody arse off it, girl.” Says the man who’s decided he’s had enough of this. His arm reaches for the woman’s shoulder, and quickly, Geralt lunges forward, jaws snatching the man’s wrist. Said man yelps abruptly, snatching his hand back from the sharp teeth. He’d only be left with bruising, but Geralt’s main intention was to get the crowd to leave him and the woman alone. And it worked.

The man backed up cautiously, holding his wrist, “you get that beast out of this village, you hear?”

The woman nods, watching everyone slowly leave, eyes turning back to them warily now and then.

“I’m sorry they’re so cruel…” the woman says, gently petting his head. Geralt hates the way his tail had a mind of its own, wagging as she scratched under his chin, “come now, before someone blows steam through their ears.”

She stands, helping Geralt to his feet. He turns away from her, beginning to walk away, “You’re really not going to stay? They’ll kill you. The guards have a special distaste for wolves.”

Geralt’s head turns, listening to her.

“At least let me help.”

His ears lay flat as he walks to follow her. Fine.

On the ends of the village sat an old cottage, weathered with love and care. A large draft horse stood next to it, tied to its post, lazily munching on the sweet grass around it. There were chickens, and Geralt stared them down hungrily.

“Don’t get any ideas, mister. Cole or the hens, you hear?” The woman scolded, “there’s plenty of food for you inside.”

Geralt’s head shifted upwards, cursing how short he was now. He knows that, in his human body, he’d be the one looking down at her. Of course, if he were in his body he also wouldn’t be staring down live chickens.

He followed the woman past the horse and to the large oak door, noticing that the cottage was made from cobblestone and supported by more oak. Old and dead ivy wrapped itself around portions of the cottage, and he knew it would be a lovely little house in the springtime, paired next to the large, equally shriveled dogwood tree. It was definitely a place commonfolk would love to call home.

The woman opened the door, and Geralt was immediately greeted by the smell of fresh-baked bread and hearty stew.

“Please get off the table, Bogdan.” She commands. A Hob, no taller than past Geralt’s wolffish shoulder jumped on the ground playfully and wrapped his arms around the woman’s leg. In turn, she patted his head.

“Bogdan wondered when Miss might come back home, did Miss have a good trip, did Miss get good things from the market?”

The woman laughs, “yes, Bogdan.”

The Hob lets go of her leg and does a playful happy dance.

House goblin, what else could I expect? She shares a certain respect for all creatures it seems. Geralt thinks to himself.

“Mister still ain’t back yet, Miss, he’s ‘possed to be home now!”

A husband?

“You’re just saying that so we can serve supper.”

Cheekily, the Hob nods, watching as the woman crouches face to face with him, “why don’t you round up Dima, wash up, and by then if he’s still not back, we’ll eat, hm?”

Bogdan nods excitedly and races off. Geralt looks up to a now standing “Miss”.

She enters the kitchenette, grabbing a cloth and dipping it into the basin, turned, and sat on a chair, making it face outward, and therefore Geralt.

“Come.” She pats her lap, and Geralt huffs and follows up, sitting in front of her and tucking his tail next to his legs. Once again, she pets him. And he knows she’s trying to comfort him and knows that she’s trying to help a bit, so he— voluntarily— thumps his tail lightly against the wooden flooring, laying his head in her lap.

“There’s not a possibility that you’ve always been this way.” She says, taking the wet towel and tending to his wounds some. His head perks, yes, exactly, now help me because I can’t fucking talk, and I want my damned body back!

She continues, “such pretty eyes,” a pause, “very distinct, hm?” A smile was given his way before she lightly grasps his paw. A fiery explosion of pain ran through him, and his first instinct was to yelp.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know.” She coos, running her fingers through his fur near the top of his head. He does it for her, lifting his leg and putting it against her thigh. She smiles, hand leaving his head, gently beginning to wipe away the blood on his padded foot. “I can’t place where I’ve seen them before…” She says, “and I am so sorry.”

Anyone else would think she was having a full fit of hysteria, but she was wise and knew what she was speaking of.

Why are you so apologetic?

“I wish I could help you.”

And she genuinely seems sad, Geralt notes, why? It wasn’t her fault.

Geralt gently nuzzled his face into the side of her arm, causing her to smile softly.

The door opens with a loud creak, and the woman looks up, smiling gently, “Hi Papa.”

This must be the “Mister” Bogdan was talking about.

Geralt should’ve known she wasn’t married, no ring on her finger, but he also knew that anywhere outside of the castle, people in small Temerian villages were likely below the poverty line. It didn’t completely let him know if she was married or not.

“What’s that you got, brought home a new friend?” The old man asks.

The woman nods, “He’s a man, I think.”

The elder gentleman furrows his brows, looking at Geralt with a questioning look, “You’ve gone mad, (Y/N). That’s a wolf. Tame, but a wolf all the same.”

(Y/N). Finally, a name to the person that’s been saving his ass for the last month, whether she knows it or not.

“Papa, look at his eyes. He’s no wolf, and he understands me. Wolves never would.”

Papa looks down at Geralt again, who looks up, locking eyes with him. The man raised his brows, “Hm. I suppose so… not a normal man, I take.”

Barely a human, but I’ll take that before monster I guess.

(Y/N) shakes her head, gently putting his paw on the floor and standing, “Bogdan and Dima should be here soon. Wash up, I need to finish up on this one before suppertime.”

//

Geralt’s head laid on a blanket placed on the floor for him near the hearth, empty bowl by his side as his eyes track the beings in the cottage. Dima, he learned upon meeting, was a Godling. Nothing unlike Johnny except his eyes, still as striking— just different in color.

Sleepily, he laid his head on his legs, one now being wrapped in a bandage, and he closed his eyes, sighing.

As morning came, Geralt awoke peacefully for the first time in a while. He yawned and stretched before getting up and nosing his way through the front door. Upon exiting, he was greeted with (Y/N), curled up in her blanket and cloak on a chair, reading peacefully. Dima sat in her lap, reading along with her it seemed. Maybe he was just looking at the pictures. (Y/N) paused, “Morning.” She says, sleep still laced in her voice.

He had to admit, she was beautiful. No need for exotic fabrics or color-altering makeup, as she sat in the chair with the little Godling, hair undone and cascading down her back, winter biting at her nose and cheeks, she was utterly, truly, and naturally beautiful.

Geralt—literally— shook the sleepiness from his body, sitting down next to the chair where the two sat. Dima stared at him, examining him.

“Wha’ happened to you?” He asked, looking expectantly for an answer. Geralt looked at him, giving a small, questioning tilt of the head in response.

“Dima, be nice.” (Y/N) scolded.

“I can hear ‘im!” He says, “animals, people, monsters- I speak to all of them and them, me!”

(Y/N) looks at Dima, wide-eyed, “Does that mea-“

You can hear me. Geralt says. The Godling nods proudly at Geralt with an “mhm!”

(Y/N) quickly closes the book, “That means we can help him, Dima! Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Dima shrugs, jumping off her lap, “Thought he was a nice wolf.”

Witcher.

“Ooooh, those can be mean. You’re not a mean one, huh?”

“What did he say?”

Dima looks between the two, “He’s a Witcher, Miss.”

(Y/N) nods slowly, and looks down to the side.

Great, Geralt thinks, now she knows.

(Y/N) walks towards Geralt, who doesn’t meet her eyes as she approaches, casting his eyes down. She bends down, running her fingers through the fur on his jaw and making him face her.

“We will get your body back. I swear it.” She says, a smile gracing her lips.

Taglist: @alwayshave-faith​

[bad-boy-spanker]

Austere Academy:Chapter Three

Jack gulped as he processed what Green had said.

“What”

Jack’s pulse was racing, this couldn’t be happening.

“It’s just to help you adjust, Jack”

Jack threw himself forward, making eye contact with Green, no way was he going to let this happen.

“But I haven’t done anything, you can’t spank me for nothing”

Green had been afraid of this, most lads had the same reaction when approached with their first spanking.

“Every lad here has had one & survived, you will too”

Jack stood up, his trousers tightening, making him very aware that he was not wearing underwear.

“No fucking way“

Green rose from his chair, Jack seemed like a nice lad at heart, but he would not tolerate this kind of disrespect.

“It’s your first day, so I’m going to cut you some slack, but we’re gonna have a problem if you are not over my knee by the time I count to three, one”

Jack was speechless who the fuck did this prick think he was.

“Two”

Keep counting dickhead, it’s not fucking happening, Jack was getting ready to make a run for it.

“Three”

Jack made a move for the door, quick as a flash, Green grabbed Jack by the ear, sat on the desk & threw Jack over his knee, grabbing his arm & pulling it up to his back, pinning Jack in place.

“Get the fuck off me”

A hearty slap landed on Jack’s arse.

“Ow, what the fuck”

Jack struggled, but it was useless, he wasn’t going anywhere until Green said so, another slap landed.

“Ow”

Green rested his hand on Jack’s arse.

“Language, if you swear again, I will wash your mouth out, understood”

That answered Jack’s question about the mouth soaping thing, Jack couldn’t say anything, the two slaps Green had delivered were already burning their way across his arse, Jack sullenly nodded his head.

“Good, now if you listen to instructions & don’t give me any more trouble, this whole thing will go a lot easier”

Without warning, Green brought his hand down across Jack’s arse.

“Ow”

The initial impact made Jack jump, building the already burgeoning sting in his arse, causing him to squirm, another slap landed, Jack couldn’t believe how much sting Green put into his spanks, no wonder AJ was crying, ten more stingers landed as Green slapped away, Jack struggled over Green’s knee as his arse began to burn.

“Stop, ah”

Jack couldn’t believe the words had left his lips, but he felt like his arse was on fire, how could it sting so much, Green landed another ten on Jack’s sit spots alternating cheeks as he went.

“Ah”

Jack bucked, trying to shift his arse out of the way of the stinging onslaught, but Green knew what he was doing, he held Jack tight as he laid on another flurry of fierce slaps.

“Ow-ah”

Jack hated to admit it, but the spanking was working, the whole of his arse from top to bottom was stinging, he was trying not to tear up, he was twenty-seven, twenty-seven-year-olds didn’t cry because they got their bum smacked, Green picked up the pace, focusing on the centre of Jack’s arse.

“Ah, ah, aha”

Jack couldn’t believe it, he was ready to cry, this was nearly as bad as his last spanking from his dad, at least Green didn’t have a hairbrush, Jack couldn’t take much more, the fist tear began to form in his eye, then all of a sudden the spanking stopped.

“Stand up & put your hands on your head”

Jack stood up, but his hands went straight to his arse, trying to rub away the sting, Green could wait a minute he needed to rub some of this sting away.

“I said on your head”

Green scolded, but Jack’s hands stayed where they were massaging his throbbing arse.

“Jack, last chance, hands on your head”

Jack still didn’t move, before he knew it, his trousers were at his ankles & he was back over Green’s knee.

“If you’d have just listened to me & put your hands on your head, we could have been done”

And with that, Green resumed spanking Jack, Jack started kicking his legs immediately, it stung so much more bare, ten harsh slaps were placed at the base of Jack’s bottom, where the cheek meets thigh.

“Ah-ha”

Tears formed again as Green continued spanking.

“Please”

Jack had broken, the tears flowed, his bottom stung so much.

“Please sir”

Green stood Jack up & bent him over the desk, Jack was panicking, what was Green gonna do, Green walked around his desk, & pulled out a square, flat-backed hairbrush, Jack couldn’t believe it, not another hairbrush, Green took his place behind Jack & whipped it down without warning.

“Gaaahhh”

Jack jumped up, grabbing his bottom, it felt as if he had sat on an oven top, Green bent Jack back over & warned him not to move.

“Please, sir, Please no more”

Green smacked Jack with the hairbrush three more times before putting it away, Jack had learned his lesson, next time he’d put his hands on his head, anything to avoid that hairbrush, Green sat down, & pulled Jack back over his knee, & rubbed his bottom.

“Another few minutes to really drive the message home, I think”

Jack cried hard, he was so sore already, Green raised his hand, as he brought it down there was a knock at the door, Green stood Jack up & told him to face the wall, as he went to see who it was, Green entered a minute later looking furious.

“Well, Jack, it seems you’ve had a lucky escape, something requires my urgent attention, pull up your trousers & go to your room”

Jack quickly pulled his trousers over his tender bottom, as he turned around, he was greeted by Callum’s smug grin.

“Aww, did newbie get his bare botty smacked”

Jack couldn’t meet Callum’s gaze, he just looked Callum up & down his round arse in those shorts, his hairy thighs, those stupid grey socks.

“Callum, shut your mouth”

Green shouted, Jack could tell something serious was going on, but he just wanted to get to his room & rub his sore bottom.

“Are you, are you gonna spank me again, tonight, before bed”

Jack asked Green sheepishly, but Green was too mad to make a clear decision, Callum had outdone himself this time.

“I haven’t made my mind up yet, now go on”

Callum laughed, as Jack left feeling sorry for himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Callum”

Callum shrugged his shoulders.

“Since when did going to the pub at lunch become acceptable”

Callum smirked & leaned forward, the game had begun.

“I’m thirty-two, you don’t tell me where I can go”

Green knew the games Callum liked to play but leaving the grounds was a serious infringement.

“This is serious Callum, I can’t let you off lightly, you need to be properly punished”

It always started this way, Green would bollock him, then spank him, a slow burn before the big crescendo.

“Can you just spank me already”

Callum didn’t realise the implications of his actions.

“You, young man, are about to learn a very long, hard lesson”

[namfine]

can i request a pacify her - melanie martinez au with taehyung? 🥺

Anon I am so sorry this took so long to get to!! I listened to the song several times and this is the vibe I got from it, I hope it’s to your liking ;-; it’s 20 pages long lmaoIf you know the song then I guess you know what to expect?? If you don’t well then you’re in for a ride O: Edit: Idk why it looks so messed up on mobile, so I apologize for that ;-;-Admin FizzyPairing: Kim Taehyung x ReaderTags: College!au, implied cheating, lowkey kinda “crazy” reader???, angst, a wee bit of fluff, drinking

     You knew it was wrong to develop this crush on him, but honestly who wouldn’t? With his wavy black hair that looked soft to the touch, warm brown eyes that you seemed to get lost in every time you locked gazes, that unique smile of his that shaped his mouth into an almost box like form, and an overall personality that made you feel warm and giddy from the inside out. Kim Taehyung was truly a work of art, the perfect gentleman whose attractive features were truly just the cherry on top of his whole being. He was the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, the guy everyone wanted at their party, and the guy everyone wanted to date. Which is where your little problem comes in.He was taken, it was known by the whole campus that there was this lucky person who got to kiss those lips and call him theirs. It was another equally popular student so it was no surprise when the two finally got together, having been dating for about 5 months now. Lots of people were heartbroken, yourself included, but that didn’t necessarily stop you from developing feelings for the man. Even though you knew nothing would ever happen between you two.  You were not exactly content with not being with him, but always happy to look at him from afar but always saddened that he will never look at you the way he looked at her. You could say you two were somewhat acquaintances, exchanging a few words every now and then in the one class you shared. When he gave you that infamous boxxy smile of his, you swear your heart would burst out of your chest and land straight onto his lap. His always bright and upbeat personality slowly became the best part of your day.

So imagine your surprise when one day he walks into your first shared class with a sulky look on his face. He took his usual seat next to you, giving you a small nod of acknowledgment. Your eyebrows furrowed together at the lack of enthusiasm from the usually happy boy. You pressed your lips together wondering if you should say something, the obvious factor of something troubling him now starting to bother you. “Hey…are you alright?” 

His eyes open slightly in surprise, almost like he forgot you were there even though he said hello to you not even less than 10 seconds ago. “Ah, yeah I’m good! Just got a little something on my mind.” He gives you a small smile and was about to turn back towards the front of the classroom, but you didn’t want to stop talking just yet.“Um, I know we don’t really know each other that well but if you ever just wanted someone to talk to…” He looks back at you with wide eyes and you press your lips together again, wondering if maybe you had overstepped your boundaries. “Oh, thank you y/n, that’s very thoughtful of you.” He gives you another smile, this one softer than before, and turns fully back to the front. Deciding on not wanting to push him further, you give a small nod of approval yourself and also turn back to the front, questioning if he would really take you up on your offer.–Class went by as normal after your chat with Taehyung, the professor droning on about something you really couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention to, especially with the thought that something was bothering your crush.What could it be? Maybe he was having trouble in another class? Family issues? Maybe something was happening with his girlfriend.The thought of that caused a chill to go through you, an odd feeling starting to spread through your chest. You knew it was silly to automatically assume it had something to do with his girlfriend but your mind started to wander; what if they’re fighting? Or were on the verge of breaking up? A quick thought flashed through your mind that it would be your opportunity to make a move.You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the other students beginning to pack up and exit the room. It was only when someone placed a hand on your shoulder that you jolted out of your daydream state. You looked up to your left and made eye contact with those warm brown eyes. A small laugh left his lips “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump- you just seemed to be lost in thought.” There it was, the part of his personality that made every person feel personally cared for by Taehyung. You felt a smile forming and let out a soft hum while nodding your head.“Yeah I was just thinking about something, guess I let myself get too carried away haha.” He takes his hand off your shoulder and adjusts his backpack, giving you a small nod before starting to make his way out.“Oh y/n?” You look up at him, a confused look on your face.“If you ever want to talk, I’m here to listen.” A blush starts to spread on your cheeks but before Taehyung could notice, he makes his way out of the classroom.You didn’t want your conversation to end there, so you quickly packed up your things, not caring to put your pencils in the case or your papers in your folder, and hurriedly made your way to catch up with Taehyung. You looked left and right for him, seeing him leaning against a wall with that worried look on his face again. He was staring down at his phone and biting his lower lip. Without giving it a second thought you began to walk towards him.“Something troubling you again?” You asked softly, not wanting to startle him with your sudden appearance. He sighs before shoving his phone in his pocket and turning his head to you. He seemed to be thinking about something for a couple of seconds before opening his mouth to speak.“Ah it’s nothing to worry about, I was supposed to meet up with Mina but she has to stay behind in class for something.” He gives a shrug and a ‘‘oh well’ face.“Oh, no I’m sorry to hear that. Um-” You bit your bottom lip, pondering if it was okay to ask this. When he tilted his head to the side, you decided to just say fuck it and proceed.“I’m heading towards the food court, you could join me if you’d like?” Your heart started beating rapidly in your chest, feeling a sudden clamminess on your palms. What were you thinking? Asking The Kim Taehyung if he wanted to join you for lunch. What a idiotic move, he has a girlfriend for Christs sake, as if he–“Sure, that sounds really nice.” You swore you could actually feel your heart begging to burst through your ribcage. “Cool, okay.” You turned the opposite direction and started walking towards the food court.“We can talk about the assignment the professor gave us.” He said when he got next to you.“The what–”—Never did you ever think that you would be having lunch with Taehyung. The thought would make your cheeks flush red and a wave of nerves travel through you. But yet here you are, with said man sitting across from you, putting fries inside his burger. You had gotten yourself a soda and a slice of pizza, the slice being ginormous. The stand you got it from being famous on campus for having one slice be about the equivalent of two. You grabbed your fork and knife, beginning to cut off a piece. “You cut your pizza?” Taehyung asks with humor laced in his voice. You look up at him and see him trying to hold back a laugh. In retrospect it was silly, pizza is a finger food but the portion was huge! You wanted to enjoy your food and not struggle to pick it up every time.“Well, yeah! I mean at least the pizza from here. This thing is huge and I don’t really want to get my hands dirty.” You said back while laughing. Taehyung laughed, the sweet sound making your heart flutter, he shook his head thoughtfully before taking a bite of his burger. “I mean you put fries in your burger, that’s pretty odd too.” “Is it? I actually know quite a bit of people that do so!” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk crossing his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him playfully and snorted, going back to cutting more pieces off your pizza. He takes a few more bites of his burger and wipes his mouth with a napkin. He cleared his throat before speaking out.“So, do you know what you’re going to write your paper on?”“Uh…can’t say I do. To be honest I kind of zoned out during class, as you saw. So I don’t know what our topic is supposed to be based on.” You laughed, feeling embarrassed to be reliving that moment when Taehyung brought you out of your thoughts about Taehyung. A hearty laugh escaped his mouth and even though he was laughing at your expense, it warmed your heart hearing it play through your ears. He began to explain what the subject was on and even helped you pick out a topic. After finishing your meals, you continued to talk even more, glad to be able to just spend time with Taehyung. You could feel your crush on him just keep getting bigger and bigger.You were about to ask him a question when you heard someone call out his name.“Tae!”Your heads turned towards the voice, a muscle in your jaw twitching at who was calling after him. The smile that appeared on his face made your chest tighten on itself, his perfect smile not aimed at you. You should’ve figured that your little pseudo date with Taehyung would eventually come to end but you didn’t expect it to come from his girlfriend. “Mina, hi! You made it out.” She reaches the table you two were seated at, leaning down to place a quick kiss on Taehyung’s cheek. His boxy smile appears and he clasps onto one of her hands.“Yeah I’m sorry! I just needed to ask my professor a couple of questions about something, but it’s all good now!” She beams at Taehyung, seemingly not noticing your presence just yet. You were about to say something when Taehyung spoke first.“This is y/n! She’s one of my classmates.” Mina turns to you finally, a graceful smile forming on her perfect lips. Something about it didn’t seem too friendly to you however.“Hi! Thanks for keeping Taehyung company for me, but I’m sure you have your own stuff to do right?”The question seemed so innocent but you felt something else lingering behind those words. Your eyebrows shot up and you made brief eye contact with Taehyung, giving you a sweet smile. “Oh, yeah I should probably start heading to my next class. I’ll see you later Taehyung.” You gave him a smile and he smiled back, feeling your heart flutter again. “Bye y/n! Thanks for inviting me, I had fun. Good luck on your paper!” His perfect smile reappears and you wanted nothing more than to just kiss him. You wave goodbye, giving one final glance at Mina who was currently occupied holding Taehyung’s hands. However she sensed you staring because she spared you look and raised an eyebrow, almost seeming to be taunting you. You rushed your way towards your next class, not wanting to see the googly eyes that Taehyung was giving Mina instead of you. –The rest of your day went by in a blur, not really remembering anything relevant that happened. The only thing on your mind being that you got to hang out and eat lunch with Taehyung. It was silly to be thinking about it this much but you got to spend time with your crush. Even if said crush was dating someone at the moment, it still made butterflies appear in your stomach. You were starting to walk towards your dorm when someone called out your name, feeling chills run through your body at the familiar tone.“Hey, are you headed home?” You turned around and came face to face with Mina. She wore a concerned expression on her face but you narrowed your eyes at her, feeling something a bit off with her question. “Yeah I am…why?” “I live this way too, thought we could walk together.” Okay this was weird, why was Mina, Taehyung’s girlfriend, wanting to walk home with you. You had just met her today.Oh…You immediately felt on guard, not knowing what her intentions could be. You’ve never heard anything bad about Mina, but with the way she was looking at you earlier today, you had your suspicions. It was quiet between you two for a couple of seconds, the only sound being the steps of your feet.“You know it was really nice of you to invite Tae out for lunch today.”“Oh uh, yeah. He just looked kind of bummed so I thought some food could cheer him up.” You weren’t completely lying, food is usually the go to when someone is feeling down. You had your own selfish reasons yes, but obviously you weren’t going to let Mina know.Unless…“Hm, I see. That’s pretty sweet of you considering you guys aren’t really friends” Her hands clasped together behind her back and she stared ahead.

A wave of nervousness went through your chest and into your stomach. 

“I mean we’re classmates and we talk every now and then so I just thought…”

You trailed off, not really knowing where to go from there. 

You came to stop in front of a building, the setting sun casting a golden light across the wall and making your shadows appear in front of you. Hers seemed to be looming over yours, getting ready to swallow you up at any minute. 

“Listen, it’s sweet of you to do that but you don’t have to worry about Taehyung.”

Your eyes snapped in her direction. You remained silent, waiting for her to continue on. When she didn’t, you took your chance to speak.

“Taehyung is my friend and he just seemed bothered today so—“

“Oh? He’s your friend now? I thought you were just classmates who talked every now and then?”

Your eyebrows came together and you felt anxiety starting to course through your body. Could she tell that you had a crush on him? You didn’t think you were being obvious. 

“I…just wanted to help.” You whispered, staring into her eyes. Her face bore no expression, her eyebrows faintly lifting upwards. 

“Well you don’t have to do that anymore.” 

And with that she turned back to the building in front of you guys, making her way inside and leaving you out in the cold chill of the evening.

—

The next day in class you weren’t feeling particularly happy, the encounter with Mina still at the back of your mind. Would she tell Taehyung? Should you tell Taehyung? Your mind was going in a million different directions, not knowing what to do. 

From the corner of your eye you could see him coming in, greeting your fellow classmates. Even from your side peripheral you could make out that beautiful smile of his. 

He places his stuff next to you and sits down, his mood drastically different from yesterday.

“Morning!” 

“Hey, morning” you replied with a tired voice and a small grin.

“You okay? You look like you’re fighting to stay awake right now.” He laughed and you knew he was trying to joke around with you but with the way Mina talked to you yesterday, you didn’t know if you wanted to have another encounter with her.

“Yeah I uh, was struggling to fall asleep last night.” 

“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. I think chamomile tea can help with that! My friend Hoseok drinks it every now and then to help him.”.

You smile at him and nod your head politely. You sit up straight when your professor walks in, dropping his briefcase onto the floor next to his desk. 

He began to speak but once again you droned out his voice, not really caring what he was talking about. You should be paying attention but your mind would not stop wondering back to Mina. Eventually your thoughts drifted to Taehyung, questioning if he knew this secretive side to his girlfriend.

The class went by quicker than expected and once again Taehyung was shaking you out of your thoughts.

“Did you fall asleep with your eyes open? I swear it was like you didn’t blink for five minutes.” 

You smiled to yourself and sighed, turning to look up at the boy on your left.“Yeah I think I just accidentally caught up on a few Z’s”.Taehyung laughed and you couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your lips. How could someone be making you feel like you’re on Cloud 9 just by laughing? It was at that moment that you decided ‘What was Mina gonna do? You guys are friends so why shouldn’t you be able to talk to him and such?’.“Hey Taehyung?”He tilted his head to the side and hummed at your question.“Would you wanna have lunch with me again? I mean if you’re not busy that is.”–As fate would have it, Mina just happened to stay behind in class again claiming that she “still had questions to ask the professor”. But you really couldn’t care, all that mattered was that you were once again having lunch with Taehyung. Today you were having chicken tenders and fries, while he was currently putting Doritos inside his sandwich, the action making you raise your eyebrow in question.“So do you always put something extra in your food or…” You trailed off and dipped your fry in ketchup, squinting when he pressed down on the sandwich, the crunch of the chips filling the air. “Yeah, it gives it that extra flavor. I can’t believe you don’t.” “I guess it’s just something that never occurred to me? It’s certainly an…interesting thing.”“Do you wanna try it?”It seemed like your body just went rigid, your grip on your chicken tender getting just slightly tighter. It was a simple question but why did your body seem to go into panic mode?“Uh, yeah sure. Do you have a knife?”He shook his head and just held his sandwich out to you.“Just take a bite.”It was a simple gesture, nothing to overthink about, yet it felt somewhat intimate just leaning forward and biting his sandwich. Something in you wanted to take a step further. So you leaned forward and placed a hand over his to hold the sandwich steady, the sudden skin contact making a chill go through your chest. You locked eyes with him as you placed your mouth on his food, biting down and hearing the crunch of the chips ring loud in your ears. You let out the tiniest sound of approval, making sure to lick your lips after swallowing.“Woah you’re right. That is pretty good.”Taehyung only seemed to be fazed for a half second before smiling at you and nodding in agreement. “See! Look what you’ve been missing out on!” The conversation continued on and even though you were having a pleasant time, there was one question that kept pestering you. “So, are things with you and Mina okay? I don’t mean to pry but it’s just…Well this is the second time she’s had to stay behind for something.” You looked down at your food, your heart beating a million times per minute because you really should mind your business but also you just really want to know if their relationship is flopping or not. Taehyung sighed and put down his drink, hands dropping into his lap. His mouth scrunched to the side before giving you a sheepish smile. “Ah, it’s been a little off lately. Every time we plan something, she always has something come up. I know she’s busy and stuff but lately it just kind of seems she’s avoiding me…” He trails off, cheeks turning a little pink at the embarrassment of basically saying Mina has been blowing him off. He put his hands on the table and began to rip up a napkin. “Oh, no I’m sorry. Maybe she’s just busy with school?” You really couldn’t care what her reason was not hanging out with him, she was dating Kim Taehyung for Christ’s sake she should be wanting to spend every second with him. “Hm, I don’t know. Even when we’re not in school she’s been telling me that she has things to do that day or she already has plans. Maybe I’m just looking too into it.”You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and placing a hand on top of his, your skin suddenly on fire from the contact.“Hey don’t think too much into it, okay? She probably has a lot going on right now. I’m sure things will…go back to normal soon enough.” For extra measure you gave his hand a little squeeze and Taehyung smiled back at you, placing his other hand on top and giving a few pats. He removed his hand and picked his sandwich back up.“Yeah hopefully, thanks for listening y/n. Sorry I didn’t mean to just dump all my issues on you.”You smiled and shook your head “Hey, no don’t be sorry! We’re friends and friends hear each other out.” Your heart just kept beating at your sudden bravery. What were you doing exactly? Flirting with Kim Taehyung? You knew it was a dangerous game to be playing but you couldn’t help it. Especially since a small part of you wanted to spite Mina.“Thanks. And hey, what about you? You’ve had something on your mind too. You wanna talk about it?”You swallowed a thick lump that formed in your throat. You could lie and say it was something else. Or maybe you could use this as some sort of advantage. “It’s nothing really, just uh…guy troubles aha.” Well you’re not wrong.“Oh no! What’s up? If you wanna talk about it that is.”.“Well…it’s just this guy in one of my classes. I don’t know how he feels about me. We talk all the time and I feel like he likes me but I’m just not sure, you know?”Taehyung nods and places his head on his fist, narrowing his eyes as if he’s in thought.“Well I think you should just go for it y/n! If you guys have good chemistry and stuff, you should just ask him out.” He points a chip at you before popping it into his mouth. “It’s not that simple Taehyung haha, girls asking a guy out is way more nerve wracking than a guy doing it. Girls will automatically assume it’s because they’re ugly when a guy rejects them.” You quickly took a sip of your soda and looked away from him, feeling heat on your cheeks.“Well that guy would be a fool for saying no to you y/n, you’re very pretty.” Now the heat was spreading all the way to your ears. Did he just compliment you? Surely he just meant it in a friendly way right? You were about to say something when someone called out his name. Grateful for the distraction, you saw him turn his head towards the voice and you hurriedly tried to pat the condensation from your cup onto your cheeks.“Hobi, hi!”Taehyung exclaims and you see him clap a hand with this ‘Hobi’ fellow. When you deemed yourself decent enough, you turned to face them and saw one of the most beautiful smiles ever. Not as beautiful as Taehyungs, but definitely unique in its own way.“Hey, how are you! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Hobi enthusiastically says and sits down right next to him. You bristle slightly at the action, grateful that he distracted Taehyung from your flushed cheeks but you were calm now, you wanted to get back to what he was saying. “I’m doing good, man! Oh hey, this is my friend y/n!” He gestures his head to you and put on a bright smile.“Hi there! Jung Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi.” He smiles brightly at you and sticks a hand out for you to shake. You shake his hand and mumble out a soft ‘hi’. His energy was just radiating off of him. “So what’s up? You have something to tell me?” “Yeah dude! Jungkook is throwing a party next week and everyone is invited!” He turns to you and gives you a wink.“You too missy, no excuses.”Your eyes widen at the invite. A party? You’ve never been to one, especially not a college one.“Oh uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really gone to parties…” At this both Taehyung and Hobi’s mouths drop open.“Seriously!? Well then this one has to be your first.”You were about to open your mouth to protest again but then you locked eyes with Taehyung. A party could seriously be your opportunity to get even closer to him. You hummed and looked up at the sky, pretending to think about it.“Sure, okay it sounds fun actually.” Hobi brings his fist inwards in a silent victory while Taehyung laughs and smiles at you.One day, that smile is only going to be aimed at you. –Over the next few days, you and Taehyung talked more in class. Although there were some moments when Mina didn’t have to stay behind so she did catch up with him, leaving you to have lunch on your own. It did start to make you wonder what exactly she was doing. Taehyung had come to confess to you that she had started being secretive with her phone, immediately putting it away and changing the subject whenever he had innocently asked about it. The thought made your blood boil. She couldn’t be cheating on him could she? Who in their right mind would do such a thing? Especially to Taehyung. Which is why when you came upon the scene in front of you, a vile feeling rose up in your chest. Your tongue felt dry in your mouth, your head started spinning and your skin prickled on the back of your neck.Mina stood against a wall with someone in front of her, talking in hushed whispers. But that’s not what was getting to you, it was what you heard that made you almost scream in anger.“We can’t let Tae find out okay? He has no clue whatsoever.” The man in front of her nodded and laughed and grabbed her hands, pulling her into a hug. Mina laughed and pulled away, still clasping his hands and smiled up at him.“We have to keep this a secret.”You had heard enough, you turned around and walked away as quickly and quietly as possible actually feeling your face flare up at the anger you had towards Mina at the moment.A part of you was hurt, how could she do that to him? How could she just go and cheat on him? It was absolutely ludicrous! Didn’t she know she was lucky to be able to even call him hers? A pictured Taehyung’s saddened face flashed through your mind and your heart ached.Should you tell him? Was it any of your business? What kind of friend would you be if you kept such vital information from him?You suddenly stopped in your tracks. If Taehyung found out about this, they would surely break up. He would be single. Hurting yes, but single.That could be your way into his heart. Your lips pressed together at this sudden thought. Obviously you wouldn’t throw yourself on him immediately, you would give him time to recover and get over Mina. But now the question was; when would you tell him? Should you tell him today? Or maybe wait a few days to see if she would get caught? Maybe you should tell him the day of the party, it was only in two days after all.You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the person calling your name.“Y/n! Hey y/n!” You only stopped in your tracks when the person grabbed onto your backpack strap and gently pulled you back. You looked up and came face to face with those brown eyes once again. “Hey, some of us are heading to this burger place right now. You wanna join?” You wanted to scream out yes but another part just wanted to out what you had just witnessed. You were about to answer when someone else had called out Taehyung’s name.“Hey! Are we ready to go? Sorry I had to do something first.”Your blood started to boil once again, and you swear you saw red flash in front of your eyes.“Yeah! I’m just asking y/n if she wants to come.” You turned around and made eye contact with her, a small smile displayed on her face. As much as you wanted to join and glare daggers at Mina, you had suddenly felt very drained from everything.“I would love to, but I actually gotta head home. I need to work on a research paper.”“Oh, no. Well alright then! I’ll see you at the party then alright?”“We’ll miss you!”That false sugary sweet voice filled your ears and you clenched your teeth to keep yourself from speaking. As much as you would love to expose her for the horrible person she was, this was something Taehyung should hear in private.“Yeah, next time I’ll be there.” You gave Taehyung, Mina and his other friends a polite nod and made your way home.–Saturday night, the night of the party had finally arrived. You were currently in front of your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Friday had been uneventful, you hadn’t seen Taehyung due to him not having classes on Friday’s. You did see Mina however, hanging out with some of Taehyung’s friends. You shook your head at the memory and went back to focusing on what you were gonna wear. Should you go for something simple? Maybe something that shows some skin. You were trying to impress him after all, especially since you decided you would tell him what you saw that day. You had settled on wearing tight black jeans with an off shoulder red top and your boots. After fixing up your hair and makeup, you grabbed your essentials and made your way out of your dorm. The party wasn’t that far from you, only maybe about a 10 minute walk. You could use the time to think about what you were going to say to Taehyung.When you had finally reached your destination, it was already bustling with life, the party goers outside of the house having somehow already created a giant beer pong table. You laughed at the sight and made your way inside, eyes scanning for Taehyung and maybe Hobi. When you saw Hobi by another beer pong table, you walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Hobi swallowed the drink in his mouth before smiling at you, “Y/n hey! You’re here!”“Yeah! I see this party is already getting crazy.”“Yeah well, that’s Jungkook for you. He goes all out with these things.” A voice suddenly appears behind you and you jump at the suddenness of it. “You know I can’t let my parties be lame! I have a reputation to maintain.” The owner of the voice steps into your peripheral and you’re met with a tall man with long jet black hair and a bunny-like smile.“Hey, I’m Jungkook, the host of this very awesome party.” You laugh and raise your hand to greet him back.“Oh hey lemme introduce you to the rest of the gang real quick.” He gestures to his friends currently occupied playing beer pong. One of them had his back to you. “At that end is Jimin and Jin, currently the beer pong champions.” Hobi laughed and you saw Jin give you a thumbs up.“Yoongi right there is our ref, just to make sure none of these guys get too out of hand.” Yoongi gives a grunt in response, too focused on the game.“And this is Namjoon! The guy who’s about to lose his sorry ass.” Namjoon stands up to his full height and turns to face you, the color immediately draining from your face.It was the same guy you saw Mina with.“Hi there, glad you could come to this crazy, wild zoo fest we’re calling a party.”Your throat tightened up but you managed to croak out a ‘hello’. He smiles at you and turns back to the game. “Have you seen Taehyung?” You asked when you felt your nerves calm down a bit.“Nah he’s not here yet, but Mina texted me saying she was almost here.”At the mention of her name, your hand clenched into a fist.“Oh, okay.”“Do you want a drink or anything? You might wanna get some now before the rest of the party people take all the good shit.”“Uh yeah, I’ll go grab what I can haha.” Hobi smiled and led you to the table where there was an abundance of alcohol and soda. He told you to help yourself before going back to his friends. You poured yourself a drink, more alcohol than soda, and chugged it down. Your hands were shaking for the moment you would tell Taehyung what you saw.–After an hour or two, you were definitely buzzed. You drank about three cups, not caring about the bitter taste of beer anymore. You were currently sitting on the couch, glaring at Mina’s back. She was currently holding Taehyung’s hand and talking with Namjoon and Yoongi. You had said hello to Taehyung when he arrived, wanting to keep him to yourself but he said he wanted to go find Mina as soon as possible. You had nodded and went back to the kitchen to grab what would be your third drink. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the loud music vibrate through your body. God, how would you get Taehyung alone to tell him? You would have to try and wait to get him alone and away from Mina, but he was currently occupied with said girl. You felt the couch dip next to you and opened your eyes to see Hobi sitting next to you. “You enjoying yourself so far?” “Yeah! This is really fun, thanks so much for inviting me.”“See? And you didn’t want to come. Isn’t this great for your first party?”You nodded in agreement and you both laughed. Hobi was cute, with his bright personality and equally dazzling smile. If on the off chance things didn’t work out with Taehyung, you wouldn’t mind trying to get to know Hobi a little better. Hobi had asked you something and you were about to answer when you noticed Mina walking away from Taehyung. He had nodded and went on talking with Yoongi and Namjoon. After a couple seconds you noticed Namjoon slip away and head in the same direction as Mina.“So would you wanna go?”Hobi’s voice brought you out of your thoughts and you stared back at him.“Sorry, I zoned out for a bit, I think the alcohol is starting to get to me haha.”Hobi smiled softly at you and leaned in a little closer to you. “I asked if you would maybe wanna join us for our movie night tomorrow. It’s usually our way of unwinding and collecting ourselves after parties.”Your heart skipped a beat at the invitation. Did Hobi already like you? “Lemme get back to you on that, I have to use the restroom real quick.” He smiled and gave a quick pat to your back. You stood up and made your way towards the restroom. On the way there you saw Mina and Namjoon up the stairs, making their way down the hall and into a room.You could not believe she was doing this in the same vicinity as Taehyung. You slammed the bathroom door and turned on the sink, splashing your face with cold water. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink and you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. A knock on the door startled you so you dried your face with a towel and yanked the door open, not expecting to see Taehyung.“Y/n hi, I saw you run in here so I wanted to see if you were okay.”God you could just cry right there at his caring nature. Mina was seriously going to regret doing this to him. “I need to talk to you.”Taehyung’s eyes widened but before he could say anything, you grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.“Woah! Okay.” He exclaimed and almost stumbled into the sink. You closed the door and braced yourself for what was about to come.“What’s up? Is everything okay?”Just say it, don’t dwell and beat around the bush, just get it over with.“I think Mina is cheating on you.”The air immediately became tense and you didn’t have to turn around to feel how Taehyung’s demeanor changed at once.“What? What makes you–why would you say that y/n?”You took a deep breath and turned around, heart crushing at seeing his hurt face.“I…I saw Mina and Namjoon together the other day.”“Namjoon…? You saw them–”“I’m sorry I didn’t know how to tell you or when but I saw them by themselves the other day and they were holding hands and hugging and…”“And what?”By now your voice was extremely shaky, a cold sweat had broken out on your skin.“I overheard what they were saying,” you whispered “She said that ‘it had to be kept a secret’ and that ‘you couldn’t find out’.”Taehyung looked down at the floor and closed his eyes, you could hear the gears in his head turning, trying to collect all the information that was just thrown at him.“I also just saw them go into another room upstairs, Taehyung I’m so sorry.” Before he had a chance to respond, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He didn’t make any moves at first but slowly hugged you back, his hands resting on your lower back.“Is that why she’s been so distant lately?” You didn’t know how to answer so you just placed a hand on the back of his head and pressed it into your shoulder more. You stood still for a couple of seconds before he pulled away from you, eyes still trained on the ground. You placed your fingers under his chin and had him look up at you.“She doesn’t deserve you Tae, you could do so much better.” You whispered while looking into his eyes. He tried to give you a smile but couldn’t bring himself to. It was at that moment that you glanced down at his lips, this was your chance to make your move. He would see that you were the one for him. When you looked back up at him, his eyes were searching your face and for a split second you saw him glance at your lips as well. That was all you needed to make your move. You slowly leaned forward, testing the waters first. When Taehyung didn’t make any sudden movements, you leaned in closer and could make out a little mole on his nose. Right as you were about to kiss, a knock was heard against the door. “Tae? Are you in there? I have to tell you something.” Taehyung jerked away from you, hands tightening into fists at his sides. He pulled away from you and opened the door, revealing Mina and Namjoon on the other side.“What’re you…nevermind that listen, I have to show you something, you need to come to the living room.”“And why would I do that?”Mina physically jerked at his response, clearly not expecting that.“Um…it’s just really important that you come out and see..” Namjoon steps up to be closer and his eyes widen at seeing you in the bathroom as well.“Don’t you think there’s something you should tell me?”Mina’s eyebrows came together in confusion.“Tae what’re you talking about?”“Oh stop playing dumb Mina and just admit that you cheated on him.”At this, all three looked at you, Mina and Namjoons mouths opening in shock.“Excuse me?? I would never cheat–”“She saw you guys together! And she just saw you guys sneaking off into a room to do God knows what else!” Taehyung yelled at them, his hands clenching and unclenching.“Tae, it’s not what you think–” Namjoon jumped in trying to ‘help’ in whatever way he could.“And you, I can’t believe you did this to me too! We’ve been friends for years, how could you hurt me like this?”At this point you had felt awkward, your work was done but now how were you going to leave? As much as you wanted to see everything go down, you wanted to get back to the party. “Taehyung, listen to me. I did not cheat on you.”“How do I know that?”“Because this party is for you!”At that, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Say what? Was she really trying to use the party as her escape plan?“That’s why I’ve been so distant lately. I was planning out this party as an early birthday celebration for you since you’ll be going home. Namjoon was helping me out.”Your skin turned hot at once, your heart turned to stone, you felt nauseous all of a sudden. She was lying right?“This party is for you, Tae. We have a cake and everything…” The air surrounding you became extremely thick, you could cut the tension with a knife.“Tae, I…” You cautiously said. Shit, how were you going to fix this? Shit shit shit–“Was this your way of trying to break us up? Were you that jealous of us that you would lie?” Mina’s voice came through and you felt tears beginning to form.“N-no I just…” Your voice, coming out in weak whispers, barely being heard over the booming music of the party.“You are pathetic y/n. I can’t believe you would do this. I thought we were friends.” That, that was what made the tears cascade down your cheeks. As if things couldn’t be worse, Mina had to go and call you her friend, knowing that that was absolutely a lie. “Come on Tae, let’s go.” Mina grabbed Taehyung’s hand and dragged him out of the room, not even letting him spare a glance at you. Namjoon gave you one final look, shook his head and closed the bathroom door, leaving you alone with your tears.

[lostinthewiind]

You Are the Air In My Lungs

Warren “Skip” Muck - Band of Brothers

Was going through my fics and realized I have never written anything for Skip Muck and felt as though I had to IMMEDIATELY rectify THAT SHIT! However, if you thought this was going to be cute or sexy, you thought wrong.

I’m here to destroy your feelings tonight, folks, so buckle THE FUCK up! 

WARNING(S): angst, death, near-death, emotional ( but also a little fluffy cuz I’m not a total monster...this time) 

TAG LIST: @gottapenny @warmommy @scissorsfordoc @wexhappyxfew @curraheev @mayhem24-7forever @one-who-hunts-eagles @bandofmarvels @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @wildwilliamguarnere @higgles123 @those-dusty-jump-wings @medievalfangirl @maiden-of-gondor @whoabrekker @thefricklefracklesin @junojelli @bandofgays @itisjustmethistime @whatwouldidowithoutgeorgeluz 

This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go; your fingers clawing at the snow and dirt, your mouth hung open, fighting to get even the smallest amount of air into your lungs, your eyes silently pleading with the man on top of you to let you go. 

In the grand scheme of things, and taking into consideration that you were in freezing Bastogne, in the middle of a war, the evening had been running pretty smoothly. There had yet to be a mortar attack from the Germans that day, the company had received a generous restocking of their food, water, winter clothing, and medical supplies, and the temperature had actually risen by a few degrees, which wasn’t a lot, but it was something.

With a belly full of food and a new, warm scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, you sat happily in your foxhole with Skip Muck and wished you could have stayed there, talking and laughing with him all night long.

You should have stayed there, talking and laughing with him all night long. 

“Why would you ever do something that stupid?” you chuckled, having just heard Skip retell his tale of swimming across the Niagra River. 

“It was a dare.” he let out a hearty laugh. “What, was I just supposed to chicken out and not do it?”

You took a moment to feign being deep in thought. “Ugh, yes, you should have,” you said matter-of-factly. “I mean, wasn’t the water cold?”

“Very cold. The current was strong as hell, too. Carried me about two miles down before I made it across, but, in the end, I made it across.”

“Oh, good,” you smirked. “Would have been a real shame if you had just disappeared over the falls, never to be seen again.”

Skip scoffed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it would have.”

“I’m only messing with you.” you caught on to the look of fake hurt on his face. “Who would I steal warmth from on these cold, foxhole nights otherwise?”

“I’m sure there would be a line of men waiting to take over that position.” 

“You think so, hmm?” you rolled your eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing we will never have to worry about then because nothing is happening to you.”

“And nothing is happening to you.” Skip told you, his eyes drifting down from your eyes and settling on your lips for a split-second. “Right?”

You smiled softly. “Right.”

Every day Skip struggled with the decision of telling you how he really felt versus waiting until the war was over. He knew it was foolish to assume both of you would make it out and back to the states alive, but the alternative hurt his heart far too much to think about. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that a war wasn’t the ideal place to fall in love, but Skip was a firm believer in love at first sight, and that’s exactly what happened when he laid eyes on you for the first time in Toccoa. Then he watched you smile and heard you laugh and he was doomed.

But as Skip sat with you in that foxhole that evening, taking in every second of that smile and laugh that he loved so much, he decided that he couldn’t wait any longer. You needed to know. He needed you to know.

“There’s something I should tell you.” Skip finally broke the silence that had fallen over your shared foxhole. 

You nodded, encouraging him to say whatever it was that he needed to; your ears open and ready to listen to him, just like always. Before he could get another word out, however, the tarp covering your foxhole flipped up and Perconte stuck his head in through the hole. 

“Y/N.” he looked to you. “It’s your turn for patrol.”

“Right. Be right there.” you grabbed for your rifle before turning back to Skip. “Sorry, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

Skip swallowed hard, his focus solely on the fact that he could still hear the soft crunch of snow under Perconte’s boots as he paced back and forth, waiting for you. “It’s okay. It can wait.” he shrugged it off. “I can tell you later.”

“Okay.” you were none-the-wiser as to the seriousness of the conversation he wanted to have. “Later then. Don’t freeze to death while I’m gone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Skip watched with a heavy heart as you climbed out of the foxhole and disappeared from sight. Later; he would tell you later. It could wait until you returned from patrol. 

Relieving Perconte from his shift, you cradled your rifle in your arms and tucked your face further into your scarf as you made your way from foxhole to foxhole, making sure everyone was still doing okay. 

It certainly didn’t feel like the temperature had risen at all, despite the news that was circulating the platoons. It felt just as cold as the night before and the night before that. The brisk air hurt your lungs and stung the bits of your face that weren’t protected from the elements.

Thankfully, the patrol shifts were short — only about an hour for each person at a time — so as long as you kept moving and kept your mind occupied, you would be back in your foxhole before you knew it, leaching warmth off of Skip as he protested and hugged you closer at the same time.

Trudging through the snow, your mind began to wander to what it was that Skip wanted to tell you. The two of you had always been open and honest with each other, unafraid to share your feelings and worries, yet the way his face wrinkled with trouble and slight distress when he had mentioned telling you something threw you off a little. 

What could he have to say that he was so worried about? 

As you made your way further away from your foxhole, you spotted a faint figure in the distance sitting against a tree, the thick fog making it nearly impossible for you to tell who it was from such a great distance away.

Slowly, you approached the man and realized that it was Lieutenant Dike. You were pretty surprised that he was even around and more surprised that he was sitting out in the open instead of in his foxhole, like usual.

Kneeling down in front of the officer, you noticed that his eyes were closed and thought for a moment that he was dead, but then you saw him breathe. Okay, just asleep. 

“Sir,” you whispered. “Sir, are you okay?” There was no response, so with a hand on his shoulder a gentle shake, you tried again. “Lieutenant Dike, are you okay?”

With the light jostle, Dike’s eyes shot open and even though he displayed no signs of being startled or scared, he lunged at you. With the full force with the large man coming at you, you fell onto your back and your head bounced off of the frozen ground. You tried to explain that you weren’t a German, that you were on his side, but before you could make a single sound his hands were around your neck.

Your mouth opened wide and snapped shut over and over again, hoping that it would somehow help you get some air or scream for help, but Dike’s strong hands were compressing your windpipe so severely that you were starting to turn blue in a matter of seconds.

You clawed at the ground, digging your fingers into the snow and dirt, trying to get away, but it was no use. You kicked your feet and tried to push him off, but your attempts at escape were futile. You were no match for the fully grown man.

With eyes brimming with tears, you stared up at your company CO and silently pleaded for him to recognize you and let you go. Dike’s eyes were void of any and all emotion, however. He was completely checked out, in a fugue state, totally unaware of where he was or what he was doing. 

It was nothing against you personally, you had just, unfortunately, been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

There had always been a small part of you that believed that no matter how bad things got, you were meant to make it to the end. You had thought that to be true right up until this very moment; the moment where you realized that your fate was to be nothing more than a casualty of the war. Just another uniform and set of dog tags. 

As your vision began to fade, your body starting to shut down from lack of oxygen, there was no sign of Dike letting up anytime soon. There was one thing and one thing only he had to do at that moment, and that was to kill you.

With the last trickle of energy you had left, you reached into your holster and pulled out your pistol. For a brief moment, you contemplated just shooting the Lieutenant in the head, but at the last second, you decided against it. It wasn’t his fault; this wasn’t him.

Instead, you aimed the gun up at the night sky and pulled the trigger, your final thought before you passed out being God, I sure hope someone hears this and comes running.

The gunshot did, in fact, alert the men of Easy Company. It also broke Dike out of his trance, but as he slowly came to, he continued to squeeze the last drops of life out of you, unaware he was even doing it. When he finally realized what he was doing, Lipton was shoving him off of you. 

“What on Earth are you doing?” Lipton demanded, leaning down over the top of you and ghosting his ear above your mouth to listen for breath sounds. There were none. “MEDIC!” he cried into the night as he started doing CPR. 

By the time Doc Roe rushed out of the fog, a small group of men had gathered around to watch Lipton give you compression after compression, desperate to get you breathing again.

“Move!” Doc demanded, dropping to his knees beside you before unzipping your coat and unwrapping your scarf, getting as many layers out of the way before taking over for Lipton. With both of his hands, he thrust down onto your chest over and over again as hard as he could, unconcerned about breaking your ribs. 

By the time Skip had heard the news, you had already been down for over five minutes; your pale, cold body lying among the snow. When he finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, he stopped dead in his tracks, haunted by the way your lifeless eyes seemingly stared back at him, your head lolled to the side as Roe continued compressions.

The men were dead silent, some even holding their breaths as they watched and waited, praying for you to make a noise or move a leg or do something, anything, that proved you were still alive.

As the seconds turned into minutes, the hope was beginning to fade. By that point, you had been without air for so long that the chances of getting you back were growing slimmer and slimmer.

When Roe began to get exhausted, Bull took over, and after him, Guarnere. No one was willing to give up. 

No one knew what had actually happened because after Lipton had shoved Dike away, the Lieutenant had slinked off, deeply ashamed of his actions. He was gone before anyone else arrived. It didn’t exactly matter how you had ended up on the ground, though. What mattered was getting you back up.

When Guarnere eventually sat back on his haunches, his own chest heaving from exhaustion, Skip slowly moved toward you and dropped to his knees. No one said a word. Everyone knew he loved you; everyone but you. 

Carefully, Guarnere placed his hand over your eyes and closed your eyelids. 

All at once Skip was overrun with guilt and regret. How could he have been so arrogant to believe the two of you had all the time in the world? He should have told you how he felt before you left for patrol. Hell, he should have told you back in Toccoa — he should have told you the second he knew. 

“W...what happened?” he looked around.

Lipton sighed. “It was an accident.” was all he said. That was all that needed to be said right then. 

Standing over his friend, Malarkey placed a comforting hand on Skip’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered just loud enough for Skip to hear. 

As a single tear slipped down Skip’s cheek, he placed both hands onto your cold body and began to shake you ever-so-slightly. “Wake up.” he pleaded over and over again. “Just...just breathe. Please, wake up.”

Even though Skip knew his efforts were for nothing, he suddenly became filled with anger when you didn’t come back to him. Anger at himself, at the war, at the universe. Then, in an uncontrolled outburst of rage, he raised his arm over his head and brought his fist down hard onto your chest. “I said breathe, dammit!” he screamed.

When his hand collided forcefully and suddenly with your chest, your eyes shot open and you gasped for air. Guarnere, Skip, and Malarkey jumped back from you out of shock, but when you doubled over sideways and began coughing violently they returned to your side. 

Rushing back over, Roe offered you some water to drink. “Welcome back.” he was the first to speak after the miraculous revival. “You gave us a good scare there.”

After taking a sip of water, you collapsed back again, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your lungs greedy for all the air they could get. The men around you began to ease up, smiles spreading across their faces and muscles relaxing. 

“Y/N!” Skip could hardly believe his eyes. “Are you okay?”

As your fingers ghosted over the marks on your neck, you began to remember what had happened. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” you sat up, suddenly very aware of the crowd that had gathered around you. “I must have put on a real good show for an audience like this.”

A few of the men let out nervous chuckles, but that was all you could really ask for. By the looks on their faces, you had been down a while. Turning to Skip, you forced a smile and rested your hand on his shoulder. “Hi.” you breathed.

“I love you.” he blurted out. “I should have told you sooner.”

Luz let out a whoop. “Go Skip!” he encouraged.

“You do?” you thought for a second or two that maybe this was the afterlife. 

“Of course he does, you fool! He just brought you back from the dead!” Penkala exclaimed. “Would you just kiss the damn man already?!”

“My hero.” you grinned, ignoring the pain in your chest and throat as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Skip’s. Maybe sometimes it took dying to realize what you really had to live for. 

[corpse--diem]

101 Uses for Duct Tape | Marley & Erin

Summary: Marley fixes Erin’s door and Erin takes a well deserved nap. Duct tape isn’t the only thing that does some bonding here.  When: Early last week (5/4) Featuring: @detectivedreameater

This was the fourth person Marley found herself “concerned” over after hearing-- or seeing- they’d been attacked by a mime clone. Keeping up appearances was getting hard, and Marley couldn’t help but think about how much easier things were just a few months ago. But, this was her lot now, and she was making real progress with Nadia and Erin. So, whiskey bottle in hand, she made her way to the Nicholas’ funeral home, arm in sling, still giving a dull throb despite the bottle of ibuprofen she’d downed before heading over. The place always had had that creepy suburban vibe to it, the kind that only a funeral home in a renovated house could have. Not that Marley ever minded. She’d always been drawn to that, after all, being what she was. Being who she was. With a disgruntled sigh at the thought, she made sure her sunglasses were firmly on her face before giving a hearty knock at the back door. “It’s just me!” she called through it, “No evil mimes around, promise.”

Marley’s offer had been unexpected but god, was Erin ever thankful for it. She hadn’t been joking about how little sleep she’d gotten, and while the home was filled with people throughout the day, the quiet and the night made every shadow come to life. If she stared at them too long, she swore she could see the glimmer of eyes and bright teeth staring back at her. Baseball bat in hand, she made the mistake of settling onto the couch, just for a second, she told herself while she waited for Marley. She’d just nodded off when the banging at the back door jolted her wide fucking awake. “Thanks for the disclaimer. I was worried my murderous mime friend was suddenly going to be polite about hacking me into pieces,” she greeted the woman, noting the sunglasses immediately. Hard to forget the nightmares that laid behind them. She was too tired, deep in her soul kind of tired, to delve into that one right this sec. Gestured in with the baseball bat for her to come in. “Whiskey?” She offered as she led her towards the door upstairs that needed repaired. “Or should I just assume that’s not something I even need to ask when you come over?”

“A bat,” Marley noted, not moving for a second, “you work in a funeral home and the one weapon you choose is a bat?” Shrugging, she stepped in, standing still for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before holding the bottle she’d brought out. “If you could just always have a glass ready for me when I get here, you might actually become my number favorite person.” She followed Erin up the stairs, coming upon the door that had been shredded in what must’ve been quite the struggle. “Wow, you really did a number on this door, didn’t you?” she shuffled her bag which had all her tools in it and set it on the floor. “I’d say you owe me big time after this, but with all the shit going on, I’ll let it slide,” she looked over at Erin, careful to avoid eye contact, despite knowing full well nothing would happen without her wanting it to, “just this once, of course.” She plopped onto the floor, rubbing her wounded shoulder a second before digging through her bag. “You have that duct tape I asked about?”

“Is there a designated weapon of choice for funeral directors I wasn’t aware of?” Erin raised her brow at the criticism. Marley wasn’t wrong, though. Up until a few months ago the most she ever felt the need to carry on her was mace and thankfully she’d never had to use it. “What the hell happened to you?” She asked, awake enough to finally notice Marley’s arm was in a sling as she took the whiskey. Though she had a feeling the word ‘mime’ was going to pop into the conversation here. Seemed to be the trend of the week, unwelcome or not. “Would your favorite person forget the whiskey glasses or duct tape? I think not.” She smirked, grabbing the duct tape she had set on the table near the door. “Think fast!” Erin grinned as she flicked her wrist like she was going to chuck it at the one-armed woman, but handed it off to her instead with a smirk. “Kidding. Sorry. I get a little ornery when I don’t sleep for three days,” she laughed, but disappeared momentarily to grab the glass she’d already put aside. She settled onto the floor in the hallway as she poured, watching her do her thing. “If you need any help, I can totally try too. Or just hand you stuff as you go,” she said, taking a sip as she set a glass down where Marley was working.

“I dunno, just figured you have weird tools around, like a knife, or a bone saw,” Marley said dismissively from the floor, looking up at Erin. When she feigned throwing the tape, Marley didn’t even move or flinch, just gave her a flat stare. “Cute,” was all she said, before taking the duct tape and pulling on it to get a strip started. “Listen, I’m a sleep demon and even I need sleep, so maybe you should get on that whole sleep thing. I hear humans go crazy if they don’t get enough sleep.” She took the drink gratefully, taking a long swig. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know what happened. It looks like you went through enough mime bullshit here, you don’t need to hear about mine.” Struggled, for a moment, as she tried to use her foot to hold the duct tape roll still and pull off a long strip, before giving up and holding it out to Erin. “Pull.”

“You don’t sleep? Like, ever?” Erin questioned, raising a brow. “God, that must be nice. I don’t sleep much as it is considering I’m on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But eventually I collapse, as we humans do,” she nodded, taking another long sip, feeling the liquid warm her chest. “Besides, I promised you tacos. You’re gonna get tacos, sleep be damned,” she insisted. Watched with mild amusement as Marley struggled with tape before crawling over to help her out. “God, so bossy,” she teased but pulled on command anyway. “Do you even eat tacos? Or anything in general?” She asked, ripping off the tape before she could struggle with that too. “And you can totally talk about your mime bullshit if you want. Especially if it was as traumatizing for you as it was for me.”

“I sleep,” Marley corrected, “I don’t have to sleep as much as you, but I sleep.” A beat. “Sometimes.” Though she wasn’t sure if that was entirely a species quirk or more of just a ‘Marley’ quirk. Either way, it didn’t matter. “You did. And I’m excited to eat them, even if I don’t need to eat human food, either.” Erin was the second person to make Marley food, and to do so excitedly and willingly, and the thought was a tad sobering. So she took another long sip, almost emptying the glass, before getting back to work. She stuck the piece Erin had pulled off on the door and motioned for her to make a few more strips, the same size. “Traumatizing? No. I’m a detective, I don’t get traumatized by this shit. Or anything. I eat fear, remember? Kinda hard to scare fear itself.” Besides, she didn’t need to talk about it, or anything. Ever. This was just another thing that had happened and soon, it would be over, and she could go back to not having to pretend to worry about people getting killed.

“It’s the thought that counts?” Erin offered weakly, shrugging. “They’ll be tasty, if not nourishing. So there’s that.” She didn’t miss the extra long sip Marley took from her glass after she answered that. Wasn’t sure what it meant but it was certainly noted. Ripping a few more pieces of duct tape off with only a little bit of a struggle, she eyed her warily. “Uh-huh. And is that ‘You can’t scare fear’ schtick what you say to everyone when they ask if you’re alright?” She questioned further, handing off the pieces of tape. When her hands were free again, she slumped back onto the ground, topping off both of their drinks. Narrowed her eyes at Marley as she watched her again. “You’re really not about to duct tape my door together right now, right? Even I can do that.”

“Yeah, sure,” Marley said idly, “thought that counts.” She smoothed down the duct tape so that there were as few lumps as possible before digging back into her pack and pulling out the little bucket of plaster she’d whipped up. She glanced back at Erin, watching her refill their drinks, before looking up at her. “Yup,” she said evenly, before pointedly picking up her glass and taking another long drink. Turning back to the door, she pried the bucket open and grabbed her plaster trowel, dipping it in. “No, dumbass. I just needed a layer to put the plaster on,” she teased, though partially aware of the fact that her sarcastic voice sounded very much like her regular voice. “It needs a base. And I’m not saying it’s going to be the most fantastic looking thing, but it’ll patch up the hole and all you’ll need to do is sand and paint.” She paused. “Although, if you wanna keep questioning my methods, I’d be more than happy to just leave it like this.”

Erin took that single ‘yup’ for what it was. Didn’t want to talk about it. Fair, she supposed. She didn’t know Marley all too well to be diving into those thoughts. But, then again, she had forced Erin to tap into her deepest, darkest nightmare of her own. “Indulge me,” she challenged, crossing her legs and settling against the closest wall, the hint of a smile still lingering on her lips. “It’s only fair, right?” Furrowed her brows at the dumbass comment, nodding along as she then continued to explain the process. Right. “See, this is why you build doors and I fill caskets. Please don’t leave. I’m obviously helpless,” she teased in return, smirking wider behind another sip.

“Obviously,” Marley repeated, rolling her eyes as she continued to cover the door with the wood plaster. She really, really wanted to ignore the prodding question, but if she did, she knew Erin would never drop it. Glancing back at her as she worked hunched over the door, Marley paused for a moment. “That whiskey must be giving you some unfound courage,” she said before looking away again. “Nothing to tell. My mime self clone whatever tried to kill my date, so I killed it. Then, on a completely separate occasion, someone else’s extremely angry and strong mime self decided my arm shouldn’t be in its socket. We killed it, end of story.” Stopped, sitting back a moment to face Erin and take another sip of her drink. “Indulged?”

It was hard to hide the smirk on her lips when Erin felt Marley starting to cave, and remained smugly quiet through the entirety of her story. “See? Was that so hard?” She tilted her head at Marley, nudging her slightly with her foot. As terrified as Erin had originally been of the nightmare machine on their first visit, she could tell something changed. She wouldn’t be here, fixing her door and keeping her company otherwise. It was… not the worst? Her smile took a softer turn when her gaze dropped to the sling again. “Sorry about your arm though,” she said more seriously. Not one, but two run-ins with these things? She wouldn’t wish that on anyone. “Guess I made out pretty lucky, all things considering?” She shrugged, pulling up her pant leg. The slice her mime-self made was shallow but long, enough to sting like a bitch every time she walked on it.

Marley didn’t like the smug way Erin was looking at her. It made her feel...exposed, and she frowned, furrowing her brow. “I think I might die,” she said in a monotone, before prodding the plaster to see if it was drying properly. It was, of course it was. She looked back at Erin over her shoulder, her arm giving a dull thud as if in response to her pity. “It’s fine, just a minor fracture. The worst part is the desk duty. Sarge won’t let me or Jane in the field until we’re healed up, which is just ridiculous. It’s obviously fine,” she said plainly, setting her tool down and turning to sit against the wall. “Door’s done, by the way. Easy fix. Just needs to dry, then you can sand and paint it in the morning.”

“Guess you’ve come to the right place,” Erin raised her brows at Marley with a smirk that didn’t want to quit. She knew that wasn’t because of the alcohol and sleep-deprivation. This whole thing was weirdly relaxing, watching the woman work. General, friendly(ish) bullshitting over whiskey. Marley was amusing in her own deadpan way. She could appreciate that. “Ah, shit,” Erin cringed, physically recoiling at the words ‘desk duty’. “I’d go absolutely nuts. No wonder you were so willing to come fix my door,” she smirked over at her, gently rising to her feet to get a better look at her craftsmanship. “Oh wow, that’s pretty damn good,” she said with a laugh, only a little bit surprised. Paint and sand. Sure. She’d get right on that tomorrow. Better yet, she’d get Rio on that. Smiling over at her, she gave Marley’s good arm a gentle nudge. “So, uh--is Jane the girl from the date where you earned that baby? Or the one before that? Tell me all about it over some hard earned tacos.”

“Yeah, I’m getting pretty stir crazy,” Marley answered honestly, “can’t even have a good lay with this stupid thing on cause it hurts too much.” Grumbled a little, draining her glass a second time. “I only do good work.” Marley glanced over at Erin, she couldn’t help but give a little smirk at her relentless teasing. She was taking Marley’s deadpan sarcasm well, too “Oh, no. No, no,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t do dates, or dating. I’m a between the sheets only kinda gal.” She stood up, then, holding her good hand out for Erin. “Now, let’s get tacos. I believe I’ve earned them. And more whiskey. Always more whiskey.”

Erin almost spat out the last of her whiskey. So Marley was going to be willingly honest about that? “Yeah. What a bummer,” she nodded in agreement. “At least you know who you are and what you’re about?” She offered, taking Marley’s hand and waited a good moment before she was steady to lead them towards the kitchen. Thank god she planned ahead and cooked before she dipped into the Johnnie Walker and it sat on the stove, keeping warm. “Seriously, eat up. I didn’t know how much--uh, you guys ate, so I may have overcompensated a bit.” She shrugged naively, then made her own plate. Looked at the single, sad chair at her breakfast nook and froze for a second. Forgot she’d gotten rid of the full dinner set when she moved back in an effort to create more space. Glancing between it and Marley, she played it off with a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t date either, if that wasn’t obvious.” She led her towards the living room, taking a seat and hollered back. “Don’t forget the whiskey!”

“Hey, it is a bummer. It’s one of my favorite extracurriculars. And you’re not allowed to judge me for that,” Marley said with a huff, following her towards the kitchen. She picked up a plate and made some herself a taco. She wondered just how many normal people ate, but two seemed like a good number. She didn’t really get full or hungry in the way real people did. “Thanks,” she said, watching Erin’s gaze free on the single chair in her kitchen. “Yeah, seems so. Guess we have that in common, too,” she said, grabbing the whiskey and following her out to the living room instead. “So you’re not a dating gal or a laying gal? Then what do you do with other people? Please don’t tell me you only eat tacos with them.”

Erin shook her head as she munched on her taco. “No judgment! You do you, and whoever you wanna… do.” She gestured vaguely at Marley, smirking as she leaned forward to refill her cup. She shrugged, narrowing her eyes. “I mean, I do things--and people. I’m not a prude. I just work. Like, a lot. I’m on call basically every minute of the day. Makes it hard to really, uh, you know. Do that stuff.” She stuffed another mouthful between her lips, sinking further into the comfort of the couch. “Honestly, I don’t know how you have the time.”

“Trust me, I know,” Marley said, giving a nod and raising her glass to Erin’s thought before taking a hearty sip. “I’m a detective, my job is my life and my life is my job. So I gotta get my fun in while I can.” She took a bite of the tacos and decided they were actually pretty good, especially for human food. It reminded her of Jane’s cooking. She smiled a little. “I don’t sleep all that much,” she answered truthfully, finding it oddly easy to talk to Erin. “Quirk of being not human, I guess.”

Between the food and the whiskey, and the comfort of the couch, it was getting harder and harder to keep up appearances. “Fair,” Erin nodded, washing the taco down with more whiskey. “I have fun. I just--” She paused, trying to think of a legitimate activity she’d done that would constitute as fun. To Marley, anyway. She rested her head against the back of the couch, glancing out the dark window in deep thought. “I just can’t remember what,” she finally finished her thought with a laugh, and drowned the rest of those thoughts with more whiskey. Oh, right. “I drink?” She glanced over, the lull of sleep coming on hard and fast as the booze and food settled in.

“Sure,” Marley replied with a shrug, though there was a grin on her face. “If you can’t even remember what you do for fun, then maybe you need to get out and do more fun things.” She shook her head, drowning her next chuckle in whiskey. “Once all of this is over, let me take you out and show you how to have fun, okay? Just one night. And I won’t even flirt with you, promise.” She looked over at Erin, knew that look. The droopy eyes, the slumped body. Was she drunk already? “Unless you want me to. Your call.”

“I have fun,” Erin interjected weakly but the effort behind it was waning. “But I’ll take you up on that offer. I’m always down for more fun.” She took one last bite out of her taco before setting the plate down, along with her drink. The exhaustion was creeping in harder and faster than she could fight it now. “I have a feeling--” Her words muddled into a yawn and she closed her eyes once her head hit the back of the couch again. “You wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from flirting either way,” she smiled, but within seconds, she lost her fight and slipped into the sleep her body had been begging for days for, head rolling onto Marley’s shoulder.

Marley was lucky enough to see the inevitable coming and had managed to grab the whiskey bottle before Erin’s head hit her shoulder and she was out. Sighing, she half rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you have lots of fun,” she said, despite Erin being sound asleep on her. Unscrewed the lid from the whiskey bottle and took a big swig, settling back into the couch. It would be easy enough to push her over onto the other side of the couch and let her lay down, but Marley didn’t mind it all too much right now. Not since she had a bottle of whiskey to finish. Still, she seemed to be doing this a lot lately-- offering to help people for nothing in return. Staying just to help someone feel better. Maybe it was supposed to make her feel better, too, but so far, it just made her feel weird. She wasn’t supposed to need people. In fact, she didn’t need people. But, she reminded herself, there was no harm in this, was there? Being amicable with the person who helped her cover her tracks was, after all, a good idea. After a moment, she held the bottle up, looked down at Erin and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

[supersoldiersruined-me]

I Could Never

A/N: This is so late, my brain hasn’t been my best friend lately. But, surprisingly, as I’d mentioned, school seems to have kickstarted my creativity. So here I am with a belated birthday gift for my space girlfriend @stanclub! I’ve already told you and keep saying it but I’m so happy to have you in my life! (at least I’m posting this while we’re still in Leo season! lol) 💕 Warning: um...cursing? no smut in that one. bit of angst. rpf Word count: 1.9k

Main Masterlist  | Drabbles Masterlist 

You had come home once to a fully decorated house, speechless before the immensity of work that was put into it. You hadn’t been able to spend Christmas at home, and Chris wanted to make sure you’d get a taste of it. After swearing that the band-aids on his fingers didn’t cover his struggle with the Christmas tree needles, you had settled down with hot cocoa in front of the fire and played board games until the wee hours of the morning.

On your birthday the year prior, a twelve person table was filled with family and friends who sat around a hearty brunch; his mom - who had grown to love you like her own daughter - joked about the pots of failed hollandaise sauce her son had expertly burned. His final result was amazing though. 

Needless to say that Chris had settled a high level of expectation for surprises; that you soon found out was taken for granted. Flowers, amongst other things, were usually delivered to your house on special occasions, no exception. But only fresh-cut grass is being blown onto the rain stained pavement as you stare at an empty porch, and the sudden chill has you rushing back inside after one last quick glance around.

With your head well rested on the cold ceramic of your stand-alone shower, you let the warm water travel down your body, flushing away the sting of disappointment. Disappointment that, you’ve convinced yourself, holds a lot more meaning than simply being left giftless on your birthday. Salty tears are washed away; gut shivers have seized their attack on your poor nerves. Once the handle of the shower deprives you of warmer water, you settle to give him the rest of the day, while absentmindedly patting yourself dry and heading out to the patio for some fresh air.

The faint buzz of your phone on the wooden chair startles you out of a daydream.

“Hello?”

“Hey, kid! How’s it going?” A familiar voice echoes through the speaker with a spark of joy.

“Seen better. How about you, Mackie?” You know he can tell exactly how bad you feel, but he’s learned not to bother people with too many questions. Mostly you.

“T’sall good,” he adds, still bashful. “Hey, do you think you can do me a solid?”

A small sigh escapes your lips. It’s faint enough so he doesn’t feel guilty for asking, but quite effective to relieve a bit of tension in your heart.

“Sure. Seems like I have the day to myself anyway...” You know he can deal with your sarcasm - being a fluent speaker himself.

An hour later and a bottle of milk down, you’re sitting on the couch with his youngest in arm, watching that one scene in Moana on repeat. The floor has become the most hazardous place to walk, but the smell of fresh cookies, and the sweet snoring of the toddler seem to have cheered you up after the frustrating morning. The location of his house on a hill makes for the most beautiful sunset view. The rays bounce on the pool outside and heat up the room wonderfully. Soon the moon would take its place and begin another day, and the thought of having spent it alone brings back a small headache.

You’re setting the baby in his bed when a knock at the door startles you. You tiptoe through the dark house out of habit, which comes in handy for the situation. Not bothered to look out the small window by the door, you spring it open in one swift movement, and your knees practically give in when your eyes meet his baby blues. Before you can put a word in, a series of giggles comes from somewhere on his left; not only indicating that he has company, but that this company is female and apparently trying too hard to impress him. He’s wearing a black shirt, neatly tucked into some clean jeans; just the way you had recently suggested he tried. Hair slicked back and glimmer in his eyes. Dreamy, as usual. Clearly he wasn’t here to help babysit Mackie’s kids.

Another minute goes on before their laughter dims down and Chris seems to acknowledge your existence. 

“Um, listen,” he begins through choked laughs. “I’m gonna need you to put this on.”

You look down at the black strip of fabric in his hand.

“Why should I?” The young girl hisses at your answer and bro-punches him on the arm.

“You said she was feisty. But man, she got you there.” You assume that your eyes dart through her soul because her sparkly smile immediately disappears. She glances quickly at Chris, and waves her hands in front of her before proceeding. “Oh, god. Look, I’m...” Her eyes shut close as she realises what you might have been insinuating. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m just here to take your place. I’m Anthony’s usual babysitter. Chris called me because he wants to ta-”

Her story is punctuated with Chris’ hand on her mouth. His brows rise up as a warning, and the poor girl snakes around you and into the house, taking the hint.

“I don’t know what you want, Chris but I’ve had a long day and I just-”

“Hold on, hold on!” His hand circles your wrist when you try to walk past him. “Y/N, okay look. I don’t want to break the surprise but please, put the blindfolds on and come with me.”

A small laugh comes out in a sigh, and your head shamefully drops down. So there is a surprise.

His finger carefully tips your chin up so he can look at you again.

“You thought I had forgotten?” His accusation is nothing but a friendly remark. Shivers run up your spine at the grin he offers next. “I could never,” he whispers a bit too close to your cheek. The last cloud dissipates and the stars begin to shine brighter. All of a sudden the air is a lot easier to breathe, although your heart seems to run faster.

His hands stretch the fabric in front of you, and you comply to the invitation. With your back towards him so he can secure it properly over your eyes, careful not to tangle your hair into it, you feel like a little kid waiting to unwrap their presents - albeit you’re the one being wrapped up. You curse yourself for doubting him. The ‘I could never’ replays in your mind, oddly pulling new sensations out of you - added to the fact that his breath tickles your neck with his proximity.

The ride is quite short and only makes his intentions much more mysterious. The only option to be ticked off the hypothetical list is him taking you out downtown, which would have taken twice the time. And you’re relieved to have a more casual night, considering the not-so-glamorous sundress covering your body. One thing Chris hadn’t thought of was to keep you from hearing your surroundings. As you stepped out of the car, the splashing of water gave up the first clue. 

“Chris, if you want to throw me down the river this wasn’t-”

“Oh, just shhh.” 

You walk down a small path, small branches snap under your feet, a faint cackling waits in the distance. The humming of the city seems to fade with each stomp, allowing you to relax for the first time today. Once you’re a few more minutes away, the grip on your shoulders tightens, bringing you to a stop. You hear him take a deep breath.

“Alright,” he adds in a soft tone. He steps behind you, and after a little warning takes the blindfold off.

It takes a few blinks before your mind catches onto the scene before you. 

An off-white drape dangles from a few trees, looping around poles and creating an inviting tent - the ones so popular in fancy home renovation magazines. A picnic cloth sits underneath it, and everything is beautifully lit with a generous amount of fairy lights, tiki lamps and a slow burning campfire along the water line. The sight is mesmerizing, something out of a children’s book, and it has you wanting to shout “I do believe in fairies!” 

The moonlight dances on the lake and glistens back into your watery eyes. With your hands over your mouth you turn around to him. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and his look is to die for. He’s soft and proud and his eyes are full of something new. Something you can’t quite figure out yet.

“This is just…” Your eyes dart back to the secluded area. Something he bothered his siblings with, you’re sure of, until they agreed to lend a hand after their mom insisted Chris’ intentions were founded. But you know he came up with the idea himself. Had it not been for his money, you think, this would’ve been a home-made fort in his living room, and you wouldn’t have complained - although the extra attention does make you feel warm and loved.

Loved. There’s the feeling.

In a rush, you tiptoe towards him, anchoring your arms around his neck and in a heap of passion, your lips come to his. Surprise suddenly takes him victim, until he responds and starts moving his lips, then tongue, against yours. You part with a huff, looking for your breath - which seems to be the theme for the night. His mouth rests on your forehead as he keeps your bodies connected. Hands roam the other in search for meaning. Answers. It’s with drips on your cheeks and a childish giggle that you dip your head back.

“Was about time,” he teases. You puffs in fake annoyance before stealing a couple more pecks. 

“I didn’t see you make the first move...”

“I threw you all sorts of hints! Why did it have to be me?” You laugh at his remark.

“Alright, touché. But still. Thought you were old-school about this kind of stuff,” you clarify.

“I’m old-school as in I like to make sure that she’s the one, you know. All those years I planned things and bought some random stuff and you never asked for more. I could shit in a cup and you’d be hap-”

“Christopher! Fucking mood killer!” You pat him on the chest with your comical accusation, earning a deep laugh - minus the boob grab because he wasn’t about to take his hands from you.

“You get what I mean. You never made a big deal out of this,” he adds as he waves behind you. “You never made a big deal out of me. You let me buy things without always making me feel guilty for having this luxury. And then when I want to watch football with beer, wings and ribs stuck in my teeth you join in with a huge smile of excitement. I love the contrast...”

He closes his eyes for a second, trailing the last words in a shy whisper. Your hand comes to his cheek and your heart melts when he leans into it, water now overflowing under his long lashes.

“And I think I love you,” you say. His sparkly baby blues shot open, volleying between yours and analysing your expression. Looking for a hint of doubt, maybe. But then again, wasn’t this what he had always hoped for?

“I think I fucking love you too,” he answers. He kisses you, as if to seal a deal. 

Best birthday ever.