#like oh god i'll never breathe through my nose again! (three days pass) oh okay carry on i can breathe again

[rossithepixie]

sometimes i think i've forgotten how to write but then i'm able to again and realize my brain was just being dramatic.

[avintagekiss24]

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Nine // Wanda Maximoff

chapter eight | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter ten

author’s note: a bit late with the update today, my bad. I’m just very exhausted lol. Hope you like it though! bit beefy, just how i like it 😂

I should have realised Wanda would be a handful after literally grabbing my arse less than a metre away from her fiancé.

The final straw came when we were sat together at a table, talking to a guest who wanted to know more about the wedding plans. Y/B/N had left Wanda alone for the remainder of the evening for God knows what reason, so I was left to babysit her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Of course, drunk Wanda was also disobedient as well as truthful and clingy.

As the woman we were sat opposite was talking about her own wedding – the first of three, apparently – Wanda's hand kept playing with mine under the table. I shot her a serious look before slapping it away gently. That wasn't enough though, as several times after, she continued to play with my fingers and intertwine hers in mine.

Not wanting to draw attention, I pushed Wanda's hand under her thigh with hopes she'd keep it there and stop fussing. I didn't think she was even listening to the woman and the story of her wedding dress debacle, as she was leaning on the palm of her hand and watching with boredom.

At one point, just when I thought Wanda was finally behaving, I felt her hand rest on my thigh, creeping up dangerously higher. Clenching my jaw to contain both the arousal and frustration I was feeling, I flicked my foot against hers before stuffing her hand under her thigh again. Glancing at her, she was smiling innocently in my direction.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" the woman stopped mid-talk, looking to Wanda.

Wanda straightened up in her seat, flashing the woman a bright smile. "Yes. But if I may ask–"

"Oh, no..." I mumbled, already internally facepalming.

"–don't you think my almost sister-in-law is very pretty?"

My head snapped to hers as I attempted to disguise my panic with a nervous smile. The woman looked between us, waiting patiently for Wanda to continue.

"Good looks runs in the family it seems," Wanda said, stretching her hand out to caress my cheek, but I immediately caught it before she could, chuckling awkwardly.

The woman found Wanda's behaviour funny as she nodded in agreement. "The Y/L/Ns are a very good looking family indeed. Especially your fiancé, dear. What a handsome man he is."

Wanda hummed in agreement, but her eyes were only focused on me. Under any other circumstances, I would have appreciated how cute she was and been touched at her words, but now wasn't that time.

"My lovely almost sister-in-law is particularly drunk tonight I'm afraid," I spoke truthfully to the woman, offering an apologetic smile. "I should make sure she's okay."

"Of course," the woman said, nodding. "It was nice speaking to you both."

I smiled in response for both of us before leading Wanda away from the table and to an emptier-looking part of the room. Spinning around, I gave her a disapproving look.

"You can't say that," I said quietly, shaking my head. "Not here. Not now."

She licked her lips, wearing an enchanting smile, unbothered by our surroundings. "I can't help it. I'm so in love with you and you look irresistible tonight, milaya (darling)."

I sighed, my neck growing warm as she watched me with adoration. "Okay, I think it's time to call it a night."

"No, I want to stay," she whined, but I ignored her and turned around to think about how we could leave.

Once again, I felt her hand squeeze my butt and when I turned around to scold her, I saw my brother over her shoulder, approaching us. I forced a smile on my lips and glanced at her with a glare. She grinned in response before joining my side and facing my brother with me.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked when he stopped by us.

"Good," I answered for us both, afraid Wanda would say something suspicious.

He nodded, smiling a little. "Thanks for keeping Wanda company tonight."

Using that as my opportunity, I said, "Yeah, about that. She's kind of drunk, so I think I'm going to take her home."

"Oh," he said with realisation. "I don't mind taking it from here."

I pursed my lips, desperately trying to think of a reason to stay with her. Thankfully, I didn't have to.

"How scandalous of you to want to me somewhere after hours with nobody else around," Wanda poked fun, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. It worked.

"Oh, no– I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, flushing at her insinuation. "Never mind." Looking to me, he added, "You should take her home and make sure she's okay. Maybe stay with her until her family gets home so you don't have to head home yourself."

I nodded, ignoring the proud smile on Wanda's lips. "Okay, see you later."

As I led Wanda outside the house and towards the carriages parked outside, I gave her a grateful look.

"Good thinking back there."

She chuckled. "He's so easy to manipulate."

"Not nice," I said, but couldn't stop the amused smile from playing on my lips.

The two of us got in the back of the carriage after I gave the driver her address and settled in. Wanda was quick to tilt my head towards her and connect our lips, but I pulled back quickly, making her frown.

"You've been very frustrating this evening," I said with a warning tone. "We get home and you get to bed. That's it."

"Well, that hardly seems fair," she said with a shake of her head. "I believe I behaved."

I tried not to laugh. "In what world, love?"

She smiled widely, eyes darting to my lips. "Some alternate universe."

"Smooth," I played along, before facing forward. "Sober up, dear. The ride isn't long."

When we reached her house, it was a struggle getting her to her bedroom, but it was an even bigger struggle getting her dressed. I managed to get her dress off, but she kept trying to kiss me as I tried to put her nightgown on. Between fits of laughter, she pushed my hands away and made me step back.

Hands on my hips, I stared down at her with a ghost of a smile on my lips. "Are you done? You can't just sleep in your bra and knickers."

She laughed, sat on the edge of her bed and looking up at me with tired eyes. "One kiss and I'll let you dress me."

"Definitely no." I shook my head. "We both know what happens after one kiss."

"When will there ever be an opportunity where we're alone together in my home?" she tried to make a point, but her accent was especially heavy, entwined with her drunkenness and making it harder to believe her logic.

I rested my hands on her shoulders and leaned my forehead on hers, staring into her eyes with amusement. "My beautiful love, you are drunk. We will not have sex when you're drunk."

Her hands tugged me closer by the waist as she smiled up at me. "But I know what I want. And I'm certain it's you."

"Not now," I repeated, removing her hands from my waist.

She pouted and I chuckled before kissing it away. Her tantrum seemed to tire her out as I was able to get her dressed after that, managing to tuck her under the covers.

"Stay with me," she mumbled, fingers clawing the air as a gesture for me to join her.

Nobody would be back for a while, I realised, and nobody was home.

"Fine," I gave in quickly, before kicking off my shoes and jumping into the bed beside her.

She grinned, snuggling into my side and breathing out contently. "Ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu (I love you so much)."

I kissed the top of her head, holding her close and hoping she couldn't hear the rate of my heartbeat pick up. "I love you, too, Wanda."

We stayed like that, in each other's arms, until I sadly had to get up and leave her. She was asleep by the time her family returned, her face relaxed and without the constraints of reality. I smiled to myself, feeling overwhelmed with how much I was in love with her. I was lucky to have met her, I knew that much, but I was also unlucky to have met her under our circumstances.

As usual, I couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if we weren't in the wrong lifetime...

I kissed her once more, whispering an 'I love you' to her, before leaving the room and wondering if one day I might be able to stay under the covers with her, cuddling until I fell asleep, too.

—

"It won't take long, I just need to give him this," Wanda said nonchalantly, referring to the notebooks in her hand. "Then we can grab lunch."

I nodded and the two of us walked down the street until we located the Maximoff Publishing House. I'd been here a few times when visiting my brother and it always gave me a fuzzy warm feeling, my brain formulating daydreams where I could be published, too. But that's all they were – daydreams.

Wanda held the door open for me as I walked in and I gave her an appreciative smile before she followed after. She led the way to her brother's office at the back of the building and we passed several desks – editors, authors and other employees alike – before reaching it. Through the window, Wanda and I could see Pietro sat behind his desk, pen working away at some papers.

"Piet," Wanda called, knocking on the door.

He looked up and grinned, instantly motioning for us to come inside. I followed after Wanda and closed the door behind us before stopping in front of his desk.

"Y/N, I'm so glad you came!" he exclaimed, standing up and stretching out his hands ecstatically. "I didn't think you would if I'm being honest."

I tilted my head, bemused. "Er... pardon?"

"Piet, she doesn't–" Wanda started, making me look to her. She cut herself off with a sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "Oh, God."

"I'm not sure what's happening here," I said with an awkward chuckle, before taking the notebooks from Wanda's hand and dropping them on Pietro's desk, "but these are for you. Wanda said you left them at home."

He chuckled, pushing the notebooks to the side, before reaching into his top drawer and throwing some pages before me. "These are genius, Y/N."

My brows creased together with confusion as I lifted the pages, looking through them to see what had got him all happy. As my eyes skimmed the writing, my heart dropped. This was my writing.

"H-how did you get this?" I stammered, looking up at him.

His eyes flickered to Wanda and I immediately put the pieces together, my gaze falling to her. She smiled bashfully before avoiding my eyes. She'd given him my work without telling me? And she'd tricked me into coming here for this?

"I want to sign you," he stated, clasping his hands together. "Your work is amazing, arguably better than you brother's. You really undersold! And the fact that these are just excerpts means your actual completed work is even better. And I want it here at Maximoff Publishing."

My palms were sweaty as I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. He wanted to sign me? Like, properly sign me?

"Y/N?" Wanda prompted, making me look her way. She watched with encouraging eyes, nodding to her brother.

I swallowed hard and looked to Pietro. "I'll have to think about it."

My family's reaction would not be kind, I knew that now. All my life I'd been hearing about how it was unladylike and unattractive for a woman to be a writer, how I should just leave the writing to Y/B/N. He was the writer and I needed to get over it because nobody would want to publish me. Yet, here we were.

"Y/N, what are you saying?" Wanda asked, resting a hand on my forearm to get my attention. "You've talked about being published for ages."

I was beginning to regret mentioning that silly fantasy to Wanda. If I'd known she was going to give my work to her brother, I never would have said anything.

"It's fine, Wan, she just needs time to mull it over," Pietro said dismissively, before smiling at me. "I do hope you'll decide soon though."

I forced a small smile his way before turning to leave. When I reached the empty hallway, Wanda was quick to run after me, tugging me backwards so I would face her.

"Why did you do that?" I asked instantly, frowning, feeling betrayed. "What made you think I wanted this?"

Her fingers touched mine gently as she looked between my eyes. "You've told me you wanted this. I know you want this."

I shook my head, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "I can't believe you took my work and gave it to him without asking. You shouldn't have done this, Wanda. You're making waves and–"

"You deserve this," she proclaimed sternly, silencing me. Her eyes were fiery as she stared hard. "You deserve to get the credit, too. Not just your brother. It's about damn time, Y/N."

My lips pressed together firmly as I held her stare, though she was winning as she told me everything I'd wanted to hear. Just once, somebody believed in me, but I was so used to hearing otherwise that it felt foreign.

"Pietro wants to help," she said, expression softening. "He recognises talent and you have it. Maybe I should have asked before giving him your work, maybe I shouldn't have. But I know that it was the only way to push you. You're so content accepting what other people want that you don't chase what you deserve."

Her passion and belief for my work warmed my heart to the core and I was certain that I'd never been more in love with her than I was now. She didn't have to care, but she did. For once, somebody did.

"Nobody will like this," I muttered, half-convinced but still worried about the drawbacks. "It could destroy your brother's career. It could backfire."

Wanda shook her head, stepping forward and resting a hand on my neck, thumb stroking the skin comfortingly. "He wouldn't take the risk if he didn't believe in you."

I placed my hand over hers, taking it between mine as I squeezed it gently, gratefully. I didn't know what else to say, since she'd countered all of my arguments. Everything apart from my family's reaction, which she couldn't control.

"I did this for you," she murmured, before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a hug. "For you to finally get what you deserve. So that you can make your own money and nobody can take it from you."

She paused as I returned her hug, though I was pondering her words, not knowing she felt that way. It sounded like she'd given this some thought. More than she was letting on.

"Especially if you get married," she added after consideration, and I pulled away, ready to say otherwise, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I know you don't like talking about it, but it needs to be said." She opened her eyes and I realised they were glassy with unshed tears. "I need you to be okay when it happens. I don't–" She sucked up a breath, smiling to relieve the tension, though it was full of pain. "I don't want some man owning you."

"Any money I make will belong to him anyway," I said, knowing she knew the world we lived in.

A downhearted chuckle escaped her lips. "You wouldn't allow that, Y/N, we both know that."

She wasn't wrong. But the thought of even being married to somebody that wasn't her made my heart crumble in my chest.

"Just think about it, okay?" she asked pleadingly. "Promise me you'll think about it? Properly?"

I nodded, reassuring her with a sad smile. "I will. I promise." She sighed with relief, tense shoulders relaxing. I continued quietly, "Thank you, Wanda. For all of this. For everything."

She nodded, before laughing to distract from the tear that slipped from her eye. I felt bad, but there was nothing I could do. She was so concerned about my future without her and it pained me to see. We never talked about it – an unspoken agreement – because it was too difficult to accept.

"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "Let's go get that lunch we came here for."

—

I hadn't made up my mind about the publishing deal, but I was starting to veer towards a 'yes'.

A few days passed since Pietro made the offer and I hadn't told anybody of it. Only Wanda knew and she hadn't brought it up since, clearly not wanting to pressure me into a decision which I appreciated. It made me realise that I really wanted this for myself. I deserved this for myself, even if I'd been taught otherwise.

It was those few days later when the Maximoffs came over for dinner and it was the first time I'd seen Pietro since he made me the offer. When he greeted me at the door, he smiled brightly.

"I assume you haven't made a decision," he noted.

"You assumed correctly," I said with amusement, though I could tell he really wanted to know.

"Very well," he said with a shrug. "I guess I'll just have to change your mind."

I quirked a brow, wondering what he meant by that, but he simply walked past me and into the living room. Wanda smiled at me next, squeezing my hand and greeting me with a hug.

"You okay?" she asked lowly, a hint of concern in her eyes.

"I'm good," I promised. "Are you?"

"Yes," she said with a small smile. Just like her brother, I could tell she wanted to know what I was thinking.

After our two families conversed in the living room for a while, dinner was served by our servants and we all took to the table to continue our chatter.

"So, Pietro," my father started, looking across the table to him. "How is business going at the publishing house?"

I should have known what he would do when he glanced at me with mischievous eyes.

"It's going great," he answered my father respectfully. "We've actually sought out a new author to add to the list of names we represent."

My eyes widened when I realised what he was doing.

"Oh, really?" my dad asked with surprise. "Who is he?"

Pietro looked in my direction and I forgot how to breathe. "It's actually your daughter, sir."

All eyes fell to me as I locked my gaze on the cutlery beside my plate.

"Y/N? You want to sign Y/N?" asked my dad for clarification.

"I do," he said with a grin, and my face was heating up the longer this conversation went on. "Wanda saw her work and thought I'd be interested. I am. I think she'd make a great fit at our publishing house. And if she has a manuscript to show us, then I'd love to publish it."

"You did this?" Y/B/N asked Wanda with raised brows, jealousy intertwined in his voice.

"Yes, I did," she answered, unaffected by his irritation. "She's really talented."

I risked glancing up, smiling at Wanda appreciatively. She nodded in response, the corner of her mouth lifting adorably, making my heart flutter.

"She really is," Pietro agreed, before looking to my dad who still seemed taken aback. "She probably got that from you. Writing seems to run in the family."

My dad looked at me across the table, his eyes softening. All of our conversations flashed to mind where he claimed he was discouraging me for my own benefit. But now, everything he'd thought wouldn't happen was. Would he still be against the idea?

"D'you really think she'd sell?" he finally spoke, looking to Pietro, and I couldn't contain the smile from my lips.

"Yeah, don't women struggle with their first book?" my brother asked, and when I examined his expression, I saw the distaste.

"I actually think she'd do really well...," Pietro began to explain, before going into a long rant about numbers and sales and past examples.

As he spoke, my brother got progressively more frustrated and I frowned, wondering why he couldn't be supportive like our parents were being. Did he want to be the only author in our family that bad? Or was he just afraid that I wouldn't help him with his own books anymore?

"Thank you for explaining all of that," my dad said once he was done. He smiled, impressed, looking to me. "I actually love the idea."

I felt lightweight when he said that. Things were actually starting to look up for me. My dad was actually supporting my passion and it was all I'd wanted to hear since I was a kid. Trying to hide my elation behind a smile, I took a sip of water. 

"Maybe Pietro is just trying to sweeten Y/N up so he can propose," Y/B/N suddenly said, making me choke on my water.

Looking to him with disbelief, he had a friendly smile on his lips, but I saw right through it.

"Y/B/N," Wanda scolded beside him. "Don't joke about that."

"Yeah, I can assure you that's not the case," Pietro added with a chuckle, unfazed by my brother's bitterness.

"I know that," I said reassuringly, before glaring at my brother. "You don't need to dignify him with a response, Pietro."

Changing the subject, my mother spoke up with a laugh. "Well, I think this is delightful. Y/N has always loved to write and I used to think it wasn't an appropriate future for a young woman, but if you are saying it could be, then I'm fully supportive of the idea."

I smiled at her, unable to believe she'd actually said that. She was the last person I thought would approve.

"Pietro has a good eye with these things," Oleg pointed out. "If he thinks it'll be successful, it will be."

My parents began to talk about how writing was something I'd loved for a long time, but I wasn't really listening because I felt overwhelmed with happiness. Pietro caught my eye, winking playfully, and I hoped he knew how grateful I was at what he'd done. Under the table, Wanda's fingers laced through mine and I didn't let go. Giving her a sideways glance, I thanked her with my eyes. She smiled widely and I tried very hard not to kiss her.

"...it's not the conventional route, but Y/N deserves it," my dad said, and I perked up with realisation.

"Maybe Wanda could break the conventional, too," I said, wanting to repay the brunette beside me.

"What do you mean?" she asked with furrowed brows.

I gave her a smile of disbelief. "Wanda, your art. It's stunning. Everything you create could easily sell for hundreds of pounds."

Her lips parted with surprise as she struggled to find words.

"That's not a bad idea, you know," Iryna said with thought. "Especially if Y/N's signing goes to plan."

Oleg groaned playfully, looking to my father. "This is happening so quickly... our girls are growing up, Y/D/N."

My dad chuckled alongside him as I stroked the top of Wanda's hand with my thumb. She squeezed it gently and I smiled to myself.

"You'll make tons of money," I said with certainty. "Your work is incredible, Wanda."

"I'll make enough money to support the both of us," Y/B/N said, doing a terrible job at hiding his frustration.

I looked over Wanda and to him with a hard stare and fake smile. "It's not even about the money to be honest. Maybe it's just about Wanda doing something she loves."

He nodded in agreement, though his eyes glared daggers at me. "I agree. And I won't stop her. But there's no need to sell her work. She can still practice her craft as usual. Heck, I'll even get her a studio."

I quirked a brow challengingly. "And what if she wants to sell it?"

Y/B/N clenched his jaw behind a forced smile. I ignored the warning look Wanda gave me in my peripheral and didn't dare look away from my brother's gaze. This was a side to him that I definitely didn't like.

My mum suddenly laughed to clear the air, but it was nervous and concerned. "Ah, sibling rivalry. Such playful nonsense."

"I believe the dessert is coming out now," my dad added, stealing the Maximoffs' attention away from my brother and I. "We're having soufflé."

With a final glare to my brother, I returned to eating. Any chatter of Wanda and I's potential careers ceased and my parents attempted to make the rest of the meal worthwhile.

As much as I wanted to be excited at the possibility of accepting Pietro's deal, especially since I had my parents' support, I couldn't help but think about what just happened with my brother. What was his problem?

When the meal ended, we all had some tea in the living room before bringing the evening to a close. At the door, we said our goodbyes to the Maximoffs and I was sure to thank Pietro.

"You didn't have to do that back there," I said as we shook hands, "but thank you. I think I know my answer now."

"Anything for my sister's best friend," he said with his signature charming smile. "And I hope it's what I think it is. Though, I suppose you won't tell me now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not now."

"Soon, I hope." He nodded conclusively. "Have a good evening, Y/N."

Wanda shoved him out the way before I could respond before pulling me in for a hug. Pietro didn't seem offended as he gave me a knowing look over her shoulder. I stared back inquisitively, but got distracted when Wanda broke the hug, finding my eyes.

"You okay after what happened?" she asked gently, eyes subtly gesturing to my brother who was bidding her parents a goodbye.

"I'm okay," I reassured her with a smile. "Thanks for tonight."

She returned my smile. "Thank you. I think my parents actually took me seriously for a change."

"It's the least I could do," I told her, fully aware of everything she'd done for me.

Her smile widened, eyes flickering to my lips conspicuously. I shoved her gently, knowing what she was thinking and reminding her that we were in front of both of our families right now. She rolled her eyes playfully before stepping back.

"Such a handful," I mumbled jokingly.

When they left, the first thing Y/B/N did was storm off to his study. My parents exchanged glances before looking to me.

"Be nice," my mum warned.

"We'll see," I muttered under my breath, looking in the direction he'd gone.

Oh, was he about to get a piece of my mind.

[futurewriter2000]

Back Home

A/N: The fact that I spent 15 minutes looking for a gif and still didn't find the one that would be perfect, I gave up and just put a photo on. I love this fic however, one of my favorites and I hope you will too.

REQUEST:hiiiii! i hope you’re having a wonderful day, filled with sunshine & rainbows !! 💫✨ may i please request sirius x daughter! reader imagine where the reader is staying with sirius for the first time since he went to azkaban and when she goes to bed he tries to tuck her in but struggles because the last time he’d have done it, he probably would’ve read her a story but she’s presumably grown out of that by now and so he’s not really sure what to do ? 🥺🍄

XX

All those easy days finally led to now- today. He had prepared thousands of different speeches, conversations, scenes inside his head but when it came to those last moments of seeing you for the first time since he had been taken away from you, nothing could make his heart beat faster than the simple thought of that. His hands were clamming up, his fingers were snapping due to all the anxiety, his knuckles cracking, his golden family ring twisting on his middle finger...

Nothing could have prepared him for today. Not thousands of different speeches or comforting words of his best friend, who had been taking care of you for the last few years. Maybe that was a bit comforting; for Remus to keep his promise to him, even though he thought he was a murderer, he still took you in. Remus with his good wolf-like heart, despite all the things he believed.

He told Sirius you wouldn't care how he was dressed but Sirius had changed about seven times already. Tie or no tie? Bow or no bow? A jacket or a blazer? Jeans or pants? Hair combed or natural? Shaved or not shaved?

It all led him to here; him pacing up and down the living room, twisting his family ring on his finger as another mistake has caught his eye. "This probably should be put away?" he continued to look at the black family vase. "KREACHER!" he shouted and the small elf appeared from thin air.

"Yes, Master-"

"Put this vase away. Hide it, throw it- I don't care. Just get it out of my sight." he spoke nervously and the elf obeyed, cursing under his breath.

He heard the door open and a loud laughter echo through the hall. Your laughter- it wasn't as small and high as he remembered it to be but it was still yours- that he definitely knew.

"Oh this place hasn't changed at all, Moony." you said as you had looked around the hall, a nostalgic rush of memories running through your head. "Grandpa told me he always hated this portrait of him. Said his nose was too large."

Sirius chuckled. That was true. He always did hate the portrait of him in the hall but never said anything because of his wife.

"Never said anything because of my wretched grandmother." you repeated his thoughts.

"Your grandmother was more than just wretched, Paddy." Remus smiled and grabbed your luggage. "I'll take these upstairs. I think you remember where your room was."

"Up, left, three doors down." you finger gunned him and made your way through the hall.

When you entered the living room, you were alone. Nothing but the same old black leather sofa, the magnificent fireplace you used to warm up with your grandfather when you visited- though where is grandpa. You swore his jar was right on the fireplace. A dark ugly vase.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around if somebody has placed it somewhere else. When you did, your eyes met his.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you felt yourself standing completely still. Something cut you in half, maybe the way he had watched you but when you came out of your shock, you realised it was still the same warm, fuzzy, homely feeling that washed over you.

"Wow." he smiled, looking at you from head to toe. Your hair was long and he was quite surprised because when you were a child, you always hated long hair. Too much brushing- you used to say. Your eyes were welcoming, bright and similar. He used to tell you that they reminded him a bit of his younger brother, Regulus. He used to have that same welcoming and bright look in his eyes when he was a little boy. It wasn't much in the shape or the colour but in they way they saw the world, which scared him and inspired him at the same way.

You were not a little girl anymore. You had grown. You had gotten curves and a womanly-like shape. Of course, jeans and a leather jacket. Reminds him of himself when he was your age. Your face was full of youth and you looked taken care for.

"You're definitely not a little girl anymore." he said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Yeah." you smiled, sitting down and looking a bit around. "Twenty. Even I'm starting hard to believe it." you smiled and patted the seat next to you.

"Twenty." he sighed under his breath. He felt his heart sink and his shoulders slump. He had missed everything. From your childhood, to your first day at Hogwarts, your first date, graduation,...

"You haven't changed much." you said and he looked at you, laughing a bit.

"You think so?"

"Yeah." you shook your head. "Your hair is still long, your eyes a bit tired."

He kept quiet. Yes, he was tired. He was exhausted from hiding all the time, from living in that prison, filled with revenge for that rat. "He calls you Paddy still." Sirius smiled, referring to the nickname Remus had given you. "He used to do that from the moment you were born. Little Padfoot, he called you."

"Oh, he had told me all about the day I was born. You fainting in the middle."

"I just had to lay down for a while, okay. He's over-exaggerating." he started to defend himself.

"Bet." you laughed and he joined you.

"He told me you're training to become an Auror."

"Yeah. Guess, I take after my old man." you smiled brightly at him, melting his heart into a puddle of love and pride. When you saw him melt in front of your eyes, you put your hand on his knee and gave him a comforting look. "I always believed you were innocent. I just could never prove it."

"Oh, darling." he couldn't help himself, pulling you into a hug and letting tears fall down his cheeks at the words you had said. "I don't think you know how much I needed to hear that."

---

The whole experience of being here felt nostalgic. You knew you had been here before, stepped on those same stairs, dug your toes in that same rug, put your watch on that same night stand,... even the sheets felt as light and silky as it did when you were only a child. You didn't mind spending your time here. Your grandmother was strict, more than you heard but your grandfather was soft, nothing like you had heard from Remus or your dad or Regulus... not that you remember your uncle much. You had some faint memories of him but he simply disappeared one day and neither of your grandparents wanted to mention his name ever again. A forbidden name but it was his room, you occupied and whenever you laid here, more connected you felt to him and your roots when your father was away.

You spent weekends here or week days here. Remus was always in search of jobs and some months he couldn't provide for the both of you so you had spent some years here. Your grandfather melted at your sight, he simply adored you and he reminded you so much of your own father. Your grandmother always told you that you had made him go soft but grandchildren tend to do that. You knew she was softer to you as well, more than she was with your father and your uncle. Your grandfather said that she wanted to do right by you, not drive you away like she did with her sons. He knew because he did just the same.

There was a knock on the door that took you far away from the old memories. "Come in." you said gently and a curly-head lad popped his head in.

He gave you the usual smile- just the one that had been filled till your 6th year of life.

"I came in here to wish you good night." he said as he entered the room, keeping something behind his back. "Oh wow." he looked around the room, feeling a little chill run down his spine as the memories of his brother ran through his mind. "It's just as I remember it. You didn't change it much."

"No. I didn't feel the need."

"I wonder where is he." Sirius said in a low whisper, barely audible to you. You decided to let go of this topic.

"I wanted to ask you something."

He turned back to you and sat down at the edge of your bed. "Shoot."

"What happened to grandpa?" you asked, causing Sirius' eyes to furrow. "His ashes? Did you spread them anywhere?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The urn. It used to sit up on the fireplace. It was a large black one. I know this place he used to take me just before he passed away. Only me and him knew about it. He never told grandmother about this place and he made me promise that it will be out little secret. It's a cave somewhere in Ireland. Cliffs of Moher, I believe."

"Wait..." he stopped you a bit. "That big ugly black vase was filled with his ashes?"

"Yes?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh..." he felt his cheeks flush and you could see his eyes bulk out.

"Have you done something to the urn?"

"No, no. Of course not. I just put it in a much safer place." he lied and you could see right through it. He definitely did something to the urn but you let it pass, since the object in his hand pulled more of your attention.

"Alright. What's that in your hand?" you pointed and he quickly looked down.

"Oh, this." he pulled it out and it was a big thick book- a book you had a clear memory of. "It's silly, you probably don't remember it anymore."

You let out a laugh. "You're joking, right?" you sat up gently took the book away from him. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard!" you let out another excited laugh. "How could I not remember this? You used to read it to me every night. I could not fall asleep without it."

Sirius felt his poor heart explode in his chest. God, you still had that little girl inside of you. The one he tucked in every night but always resister with your tiny little legs because it was always too hot.

"I thought you'd have outgrown it.." he said quietly.

"If my friends ask me, yes but between you and me-" you leaned forward and whispered. "This is a little secret."

He let out another laugh. "Would you like me to read it to you again?"

You smiled widely. "I'd love for you to read it but dad-" you said and is eyes snapped to you, wide in surprise as it was the first time you had called him that in so many year. "- wouldn't you rather... get the Urn back first before Kreacher throws it away?"

"Probably a good idea but I'll be back." he stood up and ran out of the room, causing you to laugh at the sight but when he did come back with his father in his arms, he already saw you asleep in your bed.

He gently put his father on the desk and made his way to you. The book was open in the middle, one of yours and his favorite tales. He scooped the book up and placed it beside the vase. Then he remembered just how much his father hated these fairytale based books, so he pushed it far away from him.

"Even when your dust, I can't trust you." he said, narrowing his eyes at the vase before going back to you and observing you for a moment.

If he really thought about it, he didn't really lose you. Maybe time did take a way some of the precious memories he wanted to share with you but you turned out beautiful. You turned out to be this amazing, forgiving and understanding angel that still loved to read fairytales and take care of people when they were already ash.

He grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled it up to your chin, tucking you neatly just as he would when you were a child. Then he could hear something happening at the foot of the bed and see your bare feet poking out. He let out a small laugh.

"Some habits stay the same." he said, pushing away the strands on your forehead and giving you a gentle kiss. He then quietly took the book and his father, smiling that he gets to spend the rest of his life, creating new memories with you.

[itsthestutterforme]

Second Chances (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: Hanseok was spiraling and was starting to get paranoid as Vincenzo's plan began to unravel. Y/N, his best friend, gets hurt because of him and he never forgives himself.

Characters: Vincenzo x nurse!reader (platonic) Hanseo x nurse!reader (platonic), Hanseok x nurse!reader (platonic)

Requested by @letsnotcrytoday

--

Sighing as you rest your head on the steering wheel, your phone chimed. You just finished your 12 hour shift in the hospital as a nurse and you felt tractor trailer ran over you. A scolding hot bath, a vibrating pad and a foot massage from Hanseok sounds like heaven right about now.

Speaking of Hanseok, he's been very distant lately. You've been best friends since junior high and you know each other like the back of your hands. But you haven't seen him so closed off before. It's almost as if he doesn't know who to trust. And it makes you wonder how he became that way.

Without pulling away from the steering wheel, you reach into your bag and take out your phone. You glance over at the phone to see a text from Hanseo saying, "He-." That's odd. Hanseo has been just as distant as Hanseok. Something doesnt feel fight. Was he trying to say "Help?"

You drive to Hanseo's office first but they said that he was out for the day. Then you drove to Hanseo's house and your heart bangs in your chest when you look through the window.

You see Hanseok walking around the house with a gun and Hanseo tied up in front of him. He looks to be bleeding from his head. There are two other people there, a woman and a man.

You don't want to see Jang Hanseok go to jail. He's not a bad man, he just made mistakes that led him down a terrible road. Your heart was shattered to pieces when you visited him in jail and saw him in those awful, beige jail clothes.

You can't see him there again. You grab your first aid kit from your glove box and shove it into your purse.

You slowly walk into the house and open the door, careful not to make any noise. You walk into the living room when you heard three gun shots. "Oh my God, Hanseok, what you-."

Another gun shot rings in your ears and a sharp pain struck your hand. You fall to the floor and cradle your hand against your chest to see a gaping hole in your palm.

Taking deep breaths, you look around the room to see the woman with a gun shot wound in her shoulder and Hanseo with multiple wounds in his chest. If you don't patch those up soon, he won't make it. You finally look up to see Hanseok looking at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing here!"

The other man stands up and Hanseok pulls the trigger once again but the gun exerted a soft click. Hanseok looks at you with guilt and anger as the man rush toward him. Hanseok jumps off of the balcony and disappears. A soft whimper left your lips as blood spills from your hand and on to the floor.

You take some cloth from your purse and wrap your hand tightly to prevent any more blood loss. You wince as the pain intensifies and make your way to Hanseo, where the man was kneeling. "Can you help him?" He asks.

"I can try. Did you already call the ambulance?" "Yes," "Okay." You unbutton his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He has a total of three wounds, luckily there are three people here.

You open the first aid kit and pressed gauze to his wounds, making him wince. "I'm alright," Hanseo says weakly. "No, you're not." You snap, angry at Hanseok for doing this to his brother. "I'm sorry, I j-" His hand comes up to touch your cheek. "You two were more like siblings to me than he was." He says.

"Stop talking and save your strength. Apply pressure to this one." You tell the man. "Miss, I know you're hurt but can you use the other arm to put pressure on his wounds? I'll tend to yours in a minute." You add. "Y/N, please. Let it run it's course." "No, I won't. You're going to live, you hear me?" you say, blinking away the years forming in your eyes.

"I don't want to live in fear anymore. I did good, right? Please tell me I did good." "You're going amazing, Han seo. I'm so proud of you." "P-proud?" More tears escape your eyes as you ease the pressure of his wounds and uncap 5 milligrams of morphine. You inject him with it and he sighs softly. "This should ease the pain enough for him.." you trail off.

"I'm so sorry, Han seo." You add, taking his hand into both of yours. He takes his last breath as you press a kiss to his forehead. Shaky breathes leave your lips and you wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry for your loss, but can you please help my friend?" The man asks.

Wiping away your tears, you nod and made your way over to the woman.

**

It's 2 A.M. It's been five hours since you came home from the hospital and you didn't get a lick of sleep. What happened at Hanseo's house replays in your mind like some reoccurring nightmare. You wish it was a nightmare. One of your bestfriends was shot a killed by your other best friend.

Sniffling from crying about Hanseo's passing, you blow your nose a few times. That was when you hear a soft clank in your kitchen. Your nose flares with annoyance.

Whoever broke into your home was one unlucky son of bitch. You're feeling everyone emotion besides fear and you have a locked and loaded pistol in your drawer.

Taking the pistol into your hand, you take the safety off and slowly walk down the stairs. You lean your back against the wall next to the kitchen. "Whoever you are, you have five seconds to get the hell out or I'm putting five bullets in you." "Y/N?" You hear Hanseok say.

You step away from the wall and aim your gun at him, not caring about the searing pain of your hand wound opening up again. "Get the hell out," "Y/N, please. I.. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of thi-" "That was your brother, Hanseok! Your blood! And you killed him, because of what!"

"I had no choice! Vincenzo threatened to kill you if I didn't." You were at a loss for words. "Don't. Please don't turn your back on me. The whole world can but the minute that you do, then I'm a lost cause." He says, making your heart lurch in your chest.

You weren't aware that he was stepping closer to you until his hands were taking the gun out of yours. Putting on the safety, he tosses the gun on the couch. His gaze fixes on the gauze wrapped around your right hand. You put your hand behind your back. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you lie.

Still unsure of whether to believe him, you thought that it was best to sleep on it and talk to him about it in the morning. Your brain was physical exhausted from work and recent events.

"You can see yourself out," you add before turning around to go back to your room. He grabs your uninjured hand and pulled you into his chest. "You could have died, and it would have been at my hand. I'll never forgive myself for that." You chose not to say anything and listened to his heart racing in his chest.

"I didn't know it was you. My body reacted before my mind could register... I know you're pissed at me but please don't lose faith in me." He adds. "What were you thinking!" You push him away from you and slap him across the face. It wasn't until you heard a faint rip of your stitches that you realized it was with the injured hand.

A shriek of pain leaves your lips and you fall to floor, cradling your hand. He kneels down next to you and you both watch as blood seeps through the bandage. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asks. "Bathroom." Without a second thought, he lifts your into his hands and carries you into the bathroom.

He sets you on the counter and sets the first aid kit on the toilet lid. Slowly peeling off the gauze, he winces when he sees the wound. Guilt weighs on his eyes and he cleans around the wound on both sides before putting an antifungal cream.

He puts a large piece of gauze on both sides of the hand and uses a new wrap to intricately wrap the hand between each finger and the entire wrist.

He tucks away the loose end of the wrap and we both sigh in unison. "We have to get out of the country," "What the hell did you get yourself into, Hanseok? Why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped you." "No, you couldn't." He walks out of the bathroom and you jump off the counter to follow him until you heard him scream.

"Hanseok!" You rush out of the bathroom but a hand clamped around your mouth and felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You drop to the ground as black wisps cloud your vision and the last thing you saw was Hanseok being dragged away.

**

Gasping for you breath, you find yourself laying in your bed. What the hell? Was last night a dream? You look at your hand and remember Hanseok wrapping it after pulling your stiches. It wasn't a dream. Someone took Jang Hanseok.

You stand up from the bed and reach for your phone. You thought of Hanseo saying that he our a tracker in his brother's watches. You thought he was crazy but now you couldn't help but to thank him. You look up to the ceiling and say, "I'll make sure you get the justice you deserve, Hanseo."

Following the GPS, you stop in the middle of traffic when you see the man from Hanseo's apartment leaving the warehouse that the GPS led you. "He's the one that forced Hanseok to kill his own brother." You say to yourself. Your blood runs cold in your veins when you see blood splattered on his face and clothes.

Horns honk at you and you park on the side of the road and waited for the man to leave. You rush into the gravel road to park the car. Running as fast your legs can take you, you follow Hanseok's screams to a large room of the abandoned warehouse.

He's connected to some weird torture device that looks automatic. There is a drill that looks to be a half an inch inside his chest cavity. "Oh God," you say. "Y/N," he says weakly and you had sudden flashbacks to Hanseo dying. You couldn't loose another one, you refuse to.

You pull out a knife and pop open the circuit of the device and you cut the red wire which prevents the device from functioning. You're so glad you took that programming class in college.

You stick the sharp end into the crease and pushed the drill out of the device so it would stay in his chest. If you took out the drill now, he would bleed out in seconds.

What kind of monster would do this to another human being? You pull him to his feet and walk him down the stairs to get to the car. "Stay with me okay?" You say when you notice his eyes starting to close his eyes.

He looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin looked pale and lifeless and his lips were blood stained. When you find this guy, you're going to tear him a new one.

Going 80 on the highway, you were at the hospital in a blink of an eye. "Help! Someone help me please!" You yell as you drag him into the ER.

"Y/N, what happened to him?" Your coworker asked. You wait until he is on the gurney to say, "Someone was torturing him with a drill." You say flatly.

"What kind of sicko does that?" When you don't respond, she adds, "Right, sorry. Not time for jokes. I'll keep you posted." You nod and watch as she accompanies a doctor's taking him to the surgery floor.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 4

Previous chapter links:

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FOUR

The cab ride towards the White Wolf was much faster and louder than you anticipated. The cab driver's blaring music from the radio was so loud it felt like you were inside a rave. You and Bucky had to yell over the music for you to talk about what has been happening in your lives for the past few months. You couldn't summarize everything in a five-minute cab ride. So far, these were just some milestones you both gathered (well, more of his): while Bucky was in different parts of the world (Greece, Macau, Amsterdam, Monaco, Aruba) managing interrelation business and hosting nightly parties and whatnots, you were just in New York tending to drunkards (and that includes Peter sometimes) and taking photos of whatever products that come your way.

At that moment, you saw your life pass by in black and white, while Bucky's in color -- just a parade of rainbows trailing behind him wherever he goes.

Yet he still found the things you did interesting.

You wondered what the word interesting meant to him. Of course, you didn't bother asking him that. Perhaps he just felt sorry and wanted to make you feel good.

The moment you got out of the cab, you guys took a deep breath, thankful that that awful ride was over. The music floated away as the cab sped up in the streets.

"What a dick." Bucky commented, watching the cab race through the streets. Any more speed, the cab would've flown in the air.

"I know." You snorted. "God, that was an awful ride. I felt like I was at a frat party."

"Funny. You don't look like someone who would go to one." He joked.

"I went once." You defended. "With Parker."

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you and stared.  Blue eyes piercing right through you in disbelief. "Okay." You sighed. "I picked his drunk ass up at that party. But I really have been to a party with Parker." You left out that detail of you and Peter making out at that party. That was just between you and Peter and you wouldn't want to include his stepbrother in it. Or perhaps Bucky knew about it. You did just found out they talk to each other almost every night. But as you told Bucky about that party, you received no reaction whatsoever which meant he knew nothing. You felt good about that.

You and Bucky stood in front of the White Wolf, trying to shake out the ringing in your ears. Stupid cab ride. Why you couldn't just walk here was because of Bucky. Apparently, he was still a bit hungover. You wondered what would take him to get fully sober.

You stared at the wolf headstone once more, admiring it for the second time today.

"I commissioned an artist for that." Bucky spoke, poking his finger on his right ear. "Just found him on the subway one day. He was selling some sculptures he's made. Asked him if he could make me one and ta-da!"

"It is beautiful."

"I have others he has made inside." With this, Bucky started to walk towards the inside of his hotel.

The uniformed man greeted you on the steps. You sent him a knowing smile once his eyes landed on yours. He smiled back as you introduced yourselves to each other.

"Is she still in my room?" Bucky asked the uniformed man who you now know goes by the name Leonard.

"Yes, sir." He replied. "She said she'd -- "

"I know what she said." Bucky groaned, remembering what you'd told him earlier. "I'll call you from up there if anything goes wrong, okay Leonard?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be on alert."

You watched the exchange in utter fascination. It was like watching something straight out of an action movie: "I'll be on high alert" "I'll tell you when the coast is clear" "Roger that" "I'll call you when something goes wrong"

The only thing was, this wasn't some action movie though Bucky did have a plan. You just never knew about it until you got in the elevators.

"Here's the plan." He started. "We go in holding hands, I'll introduce you as my girlfriend. Maybe fiancé! When she sees you, tell her you're my fiancé and when she tells you that she slept with me, I'm going to deny and you're going to believe me because as my fiancé, you deeply love me and believe everything I say."

"Ew, it's like I'm a sub."

"Wow, you're a dom?"

"I can be." You winked at him.

"Huh, I honestly thought you're a virgin. You know, that type of 'never been kissed, never been loved' type."

In your head, you started singing the rest of the song. "I'm an angel in the streets and devil in the sheets, Bucky." You joked which he took seriously seeing it on the look on his face. "Anyway, your plan?"

"Right! She'd yell and go nuts until she gives up and then leaves the hotel -- "

"Then we get married and let Peter pay for our honeymoon!" You finished for him with a sarcastic smile on your face.

He smirked. "I like the way you think, Aria. But I don't think Peter's gonna want that."

"What do you mean?"

"W-well, he's not gonna afford it is what I meant."

"You're probably right." You gave him a low chuckle. "You're rich. Pay for our honeymoon." You joked.

"As soon as we get this bitch out of here, yes I will, doll." He scrunched his nose up and winked at you right before the elevator doors opened. Swiftly, Bucky grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. "Let's do this."

Hand in hand, you stepped out of the elevator. What stood in front of you was the same woman from earlier this morning. Body still clinging to Bucky's shirt. Faint red lipstick still smeared on some parts outside her lips. Blonde hair still disheveled. If you didn't know any better she was just here in the penthouse, waiting, not moving even a single inch.

You put your hand on Bucky's arm, hiding a faint expression of how big it felt against your skin. "Honey, who is this?"

"I-I don't know!"

The unnamed woman managed to step forward, looking Bucky in the eyes. "What do you mean you don't know? We slept last night!" Then, she looked at you. "Who the hell are you?"

"His fiancé." There was a sly smug tone in your voice. Even on your face.

"Fiancé? He didn't tell me anything about a fucking fiancé!"

"What the hell are you saying?" Bucky yelled. His grip tightened on your hand. "I've never even met you! How did you get in here?"

"We spent the night together, what the hell, Bucky!" She bellowed like a monster, then her voice softened. "I-I told you I love you."

"You're crazy."

"Call security." You said. "Now, Bucky!"

While Bucky grabbed for his phone, the woman pleaded, still trying to convince you that she slept with your fake fiancé. "If he says he doesn't know you," you responded, "then I believe him." Bucky slipped away from you, probably calling Leonard from downstairs. He gave you a knowing look, as if ushering you to unleash some kind of hell on his one-night stand. "You need to go, lady, if you don't want to be banned in every hotel here in New York. Yes, my fiancé can do that. So better get your ass out of here or -- "

"Okay, okay!" She held up her hands, giving up. "I'm out of here! Jesus fucking Christ -- " She mumbled more under her breath as she took of Bucky's clothes, revealing a white tank top underneath. She picked up her heels that were scattered on the living room: one shoe on the couch, the other near a foot of a small table. Picked up some pair of jeans on the carpet before stepping inside the elevator.

"I wish you luck in your fucking marriage." She said, tone filled with rage. Then, she proceeded to flip Bucky one last time before she disappeared behind the elevator doors, eyes boring into Bucky's.

"Okay, she's going down. Tell her to never come here again. Thanks, Lenny." Bucky dropped the phone call and gave you a smile. "And thank you for your performance."

You bowed, like how actors bow after a play ends, and flashed him a smile. "Why, thank you."

"Thanks to you I'm never gonna see that woman again in my life."

You turned your back on him, seeing the place for the first time without a tainted image of the woman. A line of little sculptures near every wall (perhaps the ones he commissioned from that subway artist). Family photos, albums and trophies took up a whole cabinet. You shifted your gaze towards the living room where a nice brown couch sits on top of a beige rug, which faced a huge flat screen television. Two pairs of love seats sat across from each other. A glass table set in the middle. On the back wall was a photograph of Bucky which took the whole space. He wore a neat, well-pressed grey suit, sitting on what seemed like a throne inside a home office, one leg stretched outwards and one leg just resting normally on the floor. He had this head tilt on one side, right hand under his chin, blue eyes looking directly at the camera. On its floor were stacks of magazines, and papers.

Even you couldn't deny how good Bucky looked in the photo but the photograph itself? You knew you could do better than that.

You turned around and found Bucky nowhere. "Bucky?"

He then emerged from what seemed like a kitchen because he was carrying loads of food and trod towards where you were and placed everything on the coffee table. "Yeah?"

"If I wasn't here, what would've you done?"

He shrugged, and opened a yogurt. "Probably stay in your apartment forever."

"Wow," you sat on the couch, watching him devour the food on the table, "seems like you've planned everything out."

"Seems like it, yeah."

"Do you always do this, Bucky?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have sex with girls, then make up a lie to get them out of your life."

"Oh, that was the first time." He replied. "Those three words really freaked me out. I've never heard that come from someone besides my family. Never even told anyone I've loved them, again, except my family."

You nodded in response and looked around the penthouse some more, admiring some paintings, big and small, on the walls. Perhaps some were real, perhaps some were just school ofs. On your right, was a draped curtain covering a whole glass wall that overlooked New York city. Bucky clicked some button somewhere which let the curtains open, letting some of the New York sun inside. From here, one could see the whole view of New York. All its pleasure, glory, grime, and lowliness.

Oh, the things you would give to live in a place like this. If you wanted to take in the beauty of New York, you had to climb up on the fire exit towards the rooftop. And the view from up there wasn't as pretty as this one. All the pretty spots were behind million dollar skyscrapers.

You looked at Bucky once more who leaned against the love seat, then closed his eyes. That same fuzzy image, which you thought you had buried at the back of my mind, resurfaced.

"Bucky?"

He shot straight up. "Yeah?"

"Have we... met each other before?"

A frown formed on his face, his blue eyes meeting yours, his gaze intense; as if he was trying to put a finger on something, on you. But then he gave up, telling you perhaps you'd just seen him somewhere here in New York the last time he was here, bumped into him. Something like that.

You agreed. Maybe that was it.

Again, you pushed that image at the back of your mind, hoping it would never come up while Bucky was still here.

You were about to ask Bucky how long he was planning to stay in New York before partying in every country outside America when your phone rang.

It was Steve. You picked it up immediately. "Hey, Steve. Is everything okay?"

Bucky shot his head towards you, perhaps wondering who this Steve was.

"Hey." He replied. His voice was groggy, like he just woke up. "There's been some misunderstanding with the shipments. They thought I said drop them in the morning. Long story short, the shipments are just outside the pub's door."

"What? They can't do that!"

"They have a lot of deliveries today so they had to. I told them to wait for you but those are impatient bastards. New shipment boys."

You cursed then stood up. "I'm actually not in the apartment right now. I'm somewhere else. Not important. I'm on my way."

"Get there fast, Aria."

"I will, don't worry. Bye, Steve."

Once you got off the phone, you told Bucky the whole situation.

"Let's go then!" He said with much enthusiasm. "Those drinks are no good sitting out there. How else am I going to make you the best drink you'll ever have, darling?"

[wastelandcth]

In the Mountains - cth

summary: who would've thought hiking with the boys would have ended up being so eventful? as the fifth member of 5sos with a crush on a certain bass player, you’re about to find out. 

author’s notes: thanks to @calumspupils for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist || request

You didn't really know how you'd gotten to this point in your life. How you had ended up in a band with four people you'd give the world to, it all still seemed like a fever dream. Most mornings you'd wake up either on a tour bus or in a hotel room miles from home wondering if this was your real-life and it wasn't until you were sat at breakfast with your bandmates that you realized how grateful you were for the twists and turns that had led to your crazy life.

Some days you'd play shows and feel like you were on top of the world, rocking out on stage with your best friends. Some nights the views from the airplanes you'd grown used to being on took your breath away for so long you were afraid you'd actually imagined it all. That all the cameras flashing and fans screaming out lyrics you'd written with the four guys on stage next to you were a figment of your imagination and you'd wake up one day to find it all gone.

"Hey, I know you don't love hiking but...I'm sure we'll make it fun," Calum's voice rang out in the car, bringing you back to the moment at present, "And I'll be there to tell you all the jokes and point out cool rocks," he said with a wink.

Calum Hood. You'd turned your head to face him, the California sun was hitting his skin and making him glow. His bright smile adorning his face as the sunglasses he was wearing slid down his nose to reveal those brown eyes you'd fallen for. His soft voice and gentle teasing bringing warmth to your stomach that always seem to linger whenever you two were alone. It was something that you thought you'd kept to yourself, a little secret, but the comments online only left you a blushing mess.

If you were being honest, you'd been in love with Calum since the first months you'd spent with the band, getting to know each other and making sure you'd be a good fit into the group. those weeks had been filled with outings together where all five of you would spend hours on end telling stories about growing up and then laughing over how the internet blew up when they introduced you to their fanbase. But those few weeks were also spent trying your best to not make a fool of yourself in front of Calum, who seemed to always be at the right place whenever you stumbled or when your voice would crack while you were practicing alone.

You two had clicked instantly, both stuck to each other's hip as you took on the world. You'd write together, spending hours on a couch drafting out possible songs and humming along to tracks that had potential in matching the band's sound. You'd even become neighbors at one point when you'd first moved into the city to be closer for band work. He'd helped you move into the apartment next to his and you'd spent many weekends at each other's place, laughing over the awkward silences when you'd both caught each other glancing for a few seconds too long.

So you were in love with your bandmate, your best friend, with Calum Hood. How bad could it be?

Apparently, very bad. You and Calum had never been the subtle type and although you both pretty much knew there was more than friendship between you two, no one made a move to make it more. Ashton had asked you once when you two had gone out for lunch after a studio session.

"I just can't understand why you two haven't already gotten over it and got together. You'd thought about it, he's thought about it. Just do it," Ashton huffed, shaking his head as he watched you tense up and shake your head.

"The band is what's important, Ash. We can't let our feelings get in the way of fucking up what all five of us have created. He knows that and I do too," you'd replied, laughing quietly as Ashton only shook his head and mumbled something under his breath.

But Ashton was always one to try and make others happy in his own special way. And that's how you found yourself in the car with Calum on the way out of the city for a hike you were less than excited about. You knew Ashton was up to something when he'd texted the group saying that you and Calum would have to drive to the trail together since you wouldn't fit in his car with Luke, Mike, and their partners. As a form of payback, you'd purposefully told Calum to pick you up thirty minutes after the original time to make sure you were the last ones to get there because there was nothing more than Ashton hated than being late. And that's how you found yourself driving out of the city with Calum, lost in your own head over how beautiful he looked.

"Mhm, you always make things fun," you chuckled and winked back at him, "We're gonna need it especially now that we're late and Ashton will definitely kill us."

The hike had gone surprisingly good considering three of you were not the most athletics and Luke and Michael had constantly been racing seeing who could go the farthest faster. Ashton had tried his best to keep everyone on track until you and Calum had teased him about being the mom friend as he'd set up his phone on a rock to shoot an update video for fans to let them know about the band had been up to. It had all been going according to plan until you moved closer to Calum and twisted your ankle, ending up on the floor staring up at the blue sky.

"Oh my god, I'm going to die. Just leave me here to die because I'm not making it," you cried out, "This is the end of me!"

In a matter of seconds since your back had hit the ground, four familiar faces hovered above you, one of them looking more concerned than the others. The pain shot through your spine and down your leg, your eyes closing as you tried to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. Soon enough you found yourself being lifted up from the ground and a warm body pressed against your back. You could hear all the guys fighting over what to do, which meant your ankle wasn't twisted backward since none of them had screamed or puked their guts out. Their voices all mumbled into one as you breathed through the pain and it wasn't until Calum's warm breath was hitting your ear that you felt yourself take a deep breath in and open your eyes.

"I'm gonna stay here with you until Ash and the others can get a ranger to bring a car or something like that, okay?" he mumbled softly, his hand rubbing at your back as he helped you sit back against a rock.

"Please don't let my leg fall off, I need it to run on stage and to kick Michael when he steals my food," you whined.

"That's not gonna happen, okay? I think you just twisted it and it's all going to be okay, sweet girl," Calum mumbled and kissed your forehead, "Promise."

The sun was still high in the sky by the time you started thinking Ashton had left you both in the desert. You'd both been sitting on the ground together, watching as  your ankle grew and grew in size as the time passed by. The pain had dulled and your head was resting on his shoulder when your brain had started to think of the worst.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you were Australian. Us Aussies are known for our athleticism," Calum chuckled as he nudged your side with his elbow, "It's a well-known fact."

"I can do a better Australian accent than all four of you," you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you smacked his thigh, "And I can outrun pretty much all of you except Ash."

"Except right now."

"Calum Hood, I swear if you don't stop making fun of me-"

"What? Are you gonna hit me again? I dare you-"

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the heat of the sun beaming down on you both. Or maybe the fact that you were thirsty since Michael had taken the only backpack with water with him before you two realized it but Calum's lips looked very nice and it took no self-restraint for you to lean in and stop him mid-sentence.

"Maybe you should twist your ankle more often, huh?" Calum chuckled as you both pulled away, "Or bully you more often."

"Shut up and kiss me again, idiot," you laughed and pulled him back in for another kiss.

"Who knew all I had to do was get you two alone on a hiking trail for you to finally kiss, huh?" Ashton's chuckled made you both pull away, making you both look like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh shut up, I'm never going on a hike with any of you again," you huffed and gratefully took the park ranger’s hand as he helped you on to what looked like a golf car.

It was a short trip back to the medical center, where they treated your very swollen ankle with ice while you downed all the water you could get your hands on. But you were grateful that Calum hadn't left your side once, his hand in yours as you squeezed it whenever you'd hit a bump or when the park ranger wrapped your ankle. His hand was still in yours as you both drove back to the city and it never left yours even when you both laid on the couch in his living room that night, drifting off in each other's company for once accepting that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just stolen glances.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop  @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @notinthesameguey

[katsukikitten]

Part one, no real warnings yet. Enjoy!

Bakugou's personal phone rings from the pocket of his hero costume for the umpteenth causing his skin to pop. All the while Kirishima allows his ruby gaze to fall over the hot head, having a good guess about just who is blowing up his phone. Worry snatches at Kirishima's heart for a moment forcing the question from his lips, even if it meant regretting it. 

"Are you sure your mom is okay?" Bakugou freezes in his step, inclining his head to fix a garnet glare at his so called friend. He sucks in a breath to yell, body tense and in a fighting stance before his phone blares again.

"FUCK!" He shouts into the night with only Kirishima and the moon to hear. The trees swallow his frustration as he rips his phone from his pocket, answering it so harshly the LCD beneath the screen ruptures. 

"What?! What the fuck do you want you God Damn hag?! I'm WORKING! Saving LIVES!" It had been a long time since he had called his mother hag, long enough there was silence on the other line for a moment. 

Then much like her son she takes a deep breath and now Kirishima, the moon and the trees know why Mitsuki was calling at such a late hour. Kirishima sighs with relief nothing is so dire as life and death, although for Mitsuki it is. 

"IF YOU DON'T BRING THIS GHOST OF A GIRLFRIEND OF YOURS I SWEAR TO KAMISAMI THERE WILL BE NO MORE NUMBER ONE HERO WHEN IM THROUGH WITH YOU. IM GETTING OLD I NEED FUCKING GRANDKIDS. THINK OF YOUR SWEET OLD FATHER HE AIN'T GETTING ANY FUCKING YOUNGER!" 

"That's what this was about?! Ma for the last fucking time I don't-" 

"You don't what? One of those hoes you sleep with has to like even your rude ass. Bring a decent one home." And with that Bakugou is left with the sound of three tones and a ringing in his ear. He grips the bridge of his nose, having no earthly idea of how to get his mother off of his back, let alone find a woman. The phone rings in his hand again, the screen filled with dead pixels and rainbow lines causing him hot to be able to see. Somehow it registers his touch as he goes from memory to answer. 

"What you fucking hag?!" He screams into the receiver. 

"Wow. Rude." You reply with a bite, "Just calling to tell you boss that I'm clocking out, dickhead." 

"I-I thought you were my mom." 

"Oh and that makes it better?" What an ass! 

"Fuck you." He growls, looking at Kirishima's watch, "You're clocking out way too early." 

"No, fuck you. I requested to be off by this time MONTHS ago. You can ask Eijirou-san, you approved it so he made the schedule accordingly." You quip, twirling one of your knives in your hands, "Besides I've been working waaay too long today. Oh and I found that perp hours ago." 

"What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me hours ago?" 

"I fucking tried, you ignored my call. This was my third attempt." You slam the knife through the paperwork on your desk wishing it were the hot head's thigh. You rise as your eyes glance over the clock. If you didn't hurry this stupid phone call up, you were going to be late. You needed to sneak in before midnight. 

"Still too early for you. Normally you want the OT." He bites, causing you to roll your eyes. 

Gods you hated this guy. 

"Yea, well tonight is different." You'd pay in the long run for leaving so soon but tonight was special. She asked you to be there the last time you saw her and you promised. 

You never break a fucking promise. 

"Some subordinate you are bitch face." He growls then an idea pops into his head. 

Subordinate. 

As in you reported to him, as in Bakugou Katsuki was your boss. And well you had to listen to your boss to some extent and he knew you needed money, you tell him day in and day out it's the only  reason you would even dream to work with him. 

Although he has no idea why you are so hard out for cash. 

So he sets the bait, offering you a deal you can't refuse. 

"Tomorrow is your planned day off right?" 

"Yea what fucking of it?!" 

"I've got a special mission for you-" 

"No." You interrupt, already feeling the exhaustion of your seventy hour work week stacking up. 

"You didn't even let me finish you ungrateful brat. It will be three times your pay for half a day's work. Cold hard cash." The other side of the line goes silent. Licking your lips you think over his offer, fuck, that would actually help get your head above water. 

The light at the end of the tunnel. 

If only you knew how dark this tunnel was going to be. 

"Fine. I'll take your stupid fucking offer." 

"Promise?" His voice sounds a bit different, a little bit of a tease to it, as if he knows something you don't. 

"What are we in kindergarten. Yea I promise, fucking headass." With that you hang up, rushing down the steps of the agency building and into the cold air. 

Your phone buzzes with a text 

BakaBoss: Meet me at the agency, 11am sharp.

You roll your eyes, turning your phone to silent as you watch the nightly set of nurses do their normal routine. Barely making it in time for the security guard and head nurse to make their way outside by the one way back door for a smoke. Both too lazy to walk around to the front of the hospital, sticking a thin splintering wood block between the jam and the door, giving you easy access to the stairwell. When they were far enough away you slip into the door, sure to place the wood where they left it before climbing the stairs two at a time, racing the clock at the top half of the 11th hour. The janitor would have already mopped her floor and the only nurse on floor six was currently on the ground level half way through the small tobacco stick, she wouldn't be sticking her head into room 609 anytime soon. 

You draw in a deep breath, collecting yourself and forcing back the tears as you picked the lock, a skill set that not only were you amazing at but the very same skill that landed you here. 

And by here you mean stupid ass hero work all thanks to some "reforming" program by Izuku Miydoria. Still it was better than having to break out of jail in order to make cash, her bills weren't going to pay themself. 

You stick a stolen credit card in between the door jab and the door, right at the locking mechanism, although you could break out of just about anywhere, this would be the faster method of escape. 

"Hey, sis, I made it!" You say softly but with excitement, watching as she keeps her back to you. Her eyes wide from a mixed cocktail of chemicals and trauma, she stares out into the sky, counting the stars. 

It would be one of those nights where she was too warped to tell you were there. With a sigh you sink onto her mattress. If you could even fucking call it that. It was more like a box spring with a fitted sheet over top of it, you were still figuring out how you could sneak a mattress in. 

"I got you something." You say crawling to sit next to her cross legged, she turns to you and it's like looking in a mirror. Except one of you is covered in visible scars and the other is not. Hers are more than skin deep. Seeing her dull gaze never gets any easier, she stares through you for a long time before she does as she always does. 

Lifting her hand gently to cup your cheek so her thumb can slide over your scar. 

"How'd you get this?" Her voice is barely hers and it grabs a fist full of your guts pulling them downward. Everytime she asks that question you see the shine of a blade, a swipe of a strong hand and vision filled with blood.

Yours, there's but never hers. You like to tell yourself that's what counts but maybe you had a hand in breaking her. 

You clear your throat, pulling a bag onto your lap. 

"Nevermind that." You gently guide her hand away from your cheek and to her lap. When she makes no motion for the gift bag you force a smile as icy guilt collects in your chest. 

"It's for our birthday silly! Can you believe we are 26 today?" You place the pillow on her lap and her hands slowly go to the plush material. 

For a moment she has returned, flashing you a smile as she pushing into the soft material before she flickers out again. Like a light with just enough current to wink in and out of existence. 

Time passes and the clock strikes midnight, white clad shoes stomp against the polished floor signaling it was time to leave. 

"I'll try to see you soon okay?" You lean over kissing her hairline before grabbing at the old, flat pillow. Shoving it into the gift bag as you silently bound the room. Pushing the door open slightly as you slip the stolen card into the back pocket of your black jeans.  With that you are down the hall and through the backdoor without raising any sort of alarm as usual. 

Suddenly your phone weighs heavy in your pocket as you think of what kind of stupid errand that asshole was going to put you on. The stolen card sings in your pocket, begging to be used. So you slip into a bar to give it a good use. 

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

A blaring alarm yanks you from the bed in a sweating panic. Knife instinctively slashing the air before you send the blade into yet another digital alarm clock. Falling back into the mattress for just a moment's peace.

That peace doesn't last long once you show up at the agency. If anything is sours as you see Bakugou leaning against the bright white brick and in civilian clothes no less. 

"What's this?" You pick at his black dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his banded forearms.  He's paired it with a pair of black jeans, one knee ripped. Oddly it looks good together. Not overly dressed nor too dressed down. His vermilion eyes glide over your figure in your black body con hero suit. He sucks his teeth, hating this next part. 

"Called clothes dumbass. Speaking of we need to get you something fitting."

"For what? What exactly is this 'mission'?" 

"I'll debrief you later. Right now we need to get you new clothes." You laugh in his face before your rich expression turns deadly 

"With what money?" 

"Calm down, it's my treat Princess." He says with satire, the name sits odd on his tongue and even more odd in your stomach. He snatches at your wrist, "Come on before the stores get crowded and we get noticed." 

You find yourself in a shop filled with dresses and fancy blouses. All of which you hate. Bakugou seems to hate them too, too guady for his taste. Still he shifts through the soft silks because he knows his mother will love it. 

"Oi, you can't find a single decent thing here? I thought women loved shopping." 

"Yea for shit we like asshole." You hiss to him, having only found a pair of dark blue jean's. 

"Heh." He scoffs, rolling his eyes until he finds the perfect top. It looks decent and it could be your style. The one thing he learned about being undercover was to not stray too far from what looked natural or from the truth. 

"Put this on. While I find a necklace." He shoves the silky top into your hands and you look at the price tag. Suddenly anxiety burns in the soles of your feet soaring up to close your throat. 

"Bakugou. This is too much." Katsuki stops to glance over his shoulder, this is the first time you've used his name since he hired you three years ago. He sees your hand gripping at your bicep and he watches the rare tell sign that you're nervous as you chew on one of the scars that creeps onto your lip. He comes up to you, closer than he ever has been before, your senses flood with spiced caramel. 

"Oi." His voice is smooth, almost soft as he touches a ringed index finger to your forearm. You fixate on the shining black ring and your old habits have you thinking of six different ways to get it off of his finger. The thought soothes you as much as his voice surprisingly does. 

"I said I'm buying, remember you brat?" The teasing returns back to his voice before it turns gruff, "Now go change to make sure I like it. I'll be back in a second." 

A woman unlocks a small dressing room for you and once inside you hold your breath. Counting as you remind yourself that you cannot and will not steal anything of value while your boss was here. 

If you were any other person you would tap this Prohero's account dry, really rack up that platinum card you know sat in his wallet and sell the clothes marked up for a profit later. 

But even as much as you hated Bakugou, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. 

Instead you slip into the the outfit adjusting yourself this way in that as the neckline says enough without saying too much. The jeans curving against your figure in such a way doing as good as a job as your hero suit. You keep your steel toed boots as you step into the small hall with the three mirrors. As you turn this way and that Bakugou appears behind you, almost earning a knife to his gut. He forces the silver blade away before pulling out a necklace from a bag he just bought.  The gold chain is dainty, going through the top of the garnet making it seen as if it were a suspended droplet of blood. 

It marches the eyes that roll over you as he takes a step back before his harsh mouth breathes out a word. 

"Fuck."

Instantly it kills your mood as your lip pulls back over sharp teeth.

"Tsk. It's not that bad, God how do you get any pussy." You grumble, smoothing down the black blouse. 

"No, dumbass. You look...you look perfect." He stares into your eyes through the mirror, his smile growing wider as they wander over your scars and finally land onto that minimalistic drop pendant necklace. 

Over something you've never been able to have, something you always had to swipe from an unsuspecting neck and then pawn. 

"Now. I'm going to tell you here, in this store of crowded people so you don't cause a scene." 

"What?!" Anger already begins to bubble in your blood. The blades that kiss your flesh start to scream for relief. 

"From now on you have to pretend to be my girlfriend. Paparazzi are starting to swarm outside of this fucking boutique and my mom follows this particular trash tabloid since they love to use me as click bait. You just have to make it through dinner tonight and if shit goes south I'll pay you even more." 

[yungbud]

Hi my love! When you have time could you write an fluffy & smutty imagine where the reader gets insecure & worries or compares themselves to Ashley? (Halsey) & Dom finds out & shows the reader how much they mean to him & how much he loves them daddy kink in there with the smut please & a lot of praise & saying "I'll take care of you pretty girl" 🥺

Word count:4.1k

TW?: mostly angst and fluff, but mentions of daddy kink and adult themes obviously its smut.

A/n: anything for you my lil nugget 🥺 Smut is at the bottom you horny cunts. I hope it was everything you wanted and more <33

*rewrite

You knew better. Unfortunately, you were self destructive and couldn't help yourself. It was 3AM and Dom was fast asleep beside you, and had been for hours. You, however, had chosen to watch a video before bed. It was titled “Yungblud being cute for 6 minutes straight.”, but of course one video turned to five or six more, until eventually you came along another video. This one was called “Halsey and yungblud cute moments.” and the cover photo was of them in onesies, one of Dom's arms wrapped around her and the other holding the camera. You could feel the pit begin to grow in your stomach. Glancing over at Dom to check he was still asleep, you pressed play on the video, flipping over so you were facing him, so that if he did wake up he wouldn’t see what was on the screen.

It was ridiculous, honestly. How could you be jealous of her when you were the one laying right next to him. It broke your heart the way he looked at her, you couldn’t help but wonder... is that how he looks at you? Why would he? She’s so beautiful, look at jawline, look at those eyes and her voice. Oh god... her voice, she's a musician. You loved music, but you had never been musically inclined and at best you could go hard on the triangle. But her, she understood it all, down to the tour life. When he was overwhelmed with work or couldn’t find a melody, she could help, when he didn’t know how to deal with all the attention, she could help. She was like the perfect mentor/ girlfriend combo. She connected with him in ways you would never be able to. She got it.

Your finger hovered over part 2 of the video, a moment of hesitation before pressing it. You tapped twice more to skip past the person's intro, wasting no time in getting to the painful stuff. 

One of the first clips was Halsey talking about the night they met. You knew it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t look away. She described it so beautifully, taking a moment to mention that of course she would because she's a writer and that's how she saw the world, her world was so beautiful. Dom deserved to live in her world. 

She went on to say that they had met up in a bar to chat, to which you remembered why. It wasn’t a coincidence, Dom liked her music. He looked up to her. Just another way you could never be who he needed. 

You couldn’t help it. He’d made the trade down of the century and everyone knew it. You paused the video momentarily, subduing the verbal attack on your ears and laying your phone down on your chest. Heavy breaths slid past your lips as you tried to calm yourself from a full blown breakdown.

 You glanced once more over at Dom, ensuring he was asleep before letting a single tear slip down your face. You used the blanket to wipe it away, basking in the shitty feeling you had created for yourself. You decided that was enough of that, shutting off your phone and plugging it up for the night. After laying there silently for a moment you scooted a bit away from Dom. 

You didn’t really feel like being held by him tonight.

----

The first thought in your head the next morning was of the events of last night, the same shitty feeling digging itself into the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck.” You sighed

“Sorry, I was borrowing one of Dom’s shirts. I didn’t mean to wake you.”  You turned your head to acknowledge the presence in the room. It was Tom, bent over and digging through a pile of Dom’s clothes.

“All good.” You murmured, flipping onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. It smelled like Dom.

Soon after you heard the door shut behind Tom as he left, your head lifting from the pillow. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t really feel like being around Dom today. You couldn’t get past the feeling that he was ultimately worse off with you, that he had settled for less.

You hated the way you felt, your face drooping back into the pillow in an attempt to hide and ended up dozing off, the late night pity marathon catching up with you.

About an hour later you were awoken to Dom’s lips on your forehead. Your eyes met momentarily as you blinked the sleep out of them, reaching upwards in a stretch.

“ ‘ello sleepy head.” Dom says, planting another kiss, this time to your nose. You roll over, replanting your face in the pillow once again, “Are you going back to sleep?” He asks

“Tired.” You mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“It’s 1pm.” no response “How late did you stay up last night?” He asks, laying his head on the pillow next to yours. You shrugged.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” You shifted your head so that you were looking at him, cheek still pressed softly against your pillow “Are you feeling a bit sick? Is it cramps? I can make you a cup of tea and get you some pain killers.” He continued, offering to help you in any way he could. He just wanted to know what was wrong with you, so he could help you. He hated the idea of you up in bed all alone feeling ill. He considered skipping the studio today, he was already cutting it close on time.

“No, I feel fine. Just need a nap. I must’ve stayed up later than I realized, s’all.” You knew you needed to tell him. Every silent moment was filled with you trying to convince yourself to just say something to him. Just talk about it. Just let him in.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out of the house at the studio, but Tom and Adam are here if you need them. I’ll tell them to be quiet so you can get some rest.” You smiled in response, your eyes closing as he rubbed his thumb lovingly against your cheek “Hey, I love you.” he says, your eyes opening as you mumbled back an I love you of your own, your lips meeting in a chaste kiss before he stood back up and slipped out the door.

As much as you would’ve loved to, you didn’t sleep at all after he left. Tom and Adam had made good on their promise to stay quiet, but it didn’t make much of a difference when that little voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. You opted for distracting yourself with your phone, scrolling through instagram and hoping the memes would brighten your mood. For the most part they did, acting as a simple distraction. 

Once you felt a bit better, you decided part of the reason you felt so bad today and last night was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t had anything to eat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself lunch, hearing Tom and Adam talking quietly in the other room.

While you were preparing your food you accidentally bumped into a stack of dirty dishes that had built up in the kitchen. You didn’t see what happened and when you turned to check nothing looked broken, but it was loud.

“Y/n?” Tom asks, tilting his head to get a better look into the kitchen.

“Hm?” You respond after a few moments of quiet deliberation. You weren’t exactly ready to be observed as awake, but you didn’t have any other choice, besides blaming it on an intruder who broke in with the intent of stealing the beloved orange tree outside, but when they arrived in the kitchen and were met with such a disgraceful mess decided they had no choice but to clean up after us. Of course, that might have stirred up a bit of a panic. They loved that orange tree, after all.

“Oh you’re finally up. Are you feeling alright? Dom said he thought you maybe came down with something.” Adam says

“I’m alright, thanks for asking. I’m just making myself lunch.”

“Come sit with us while you eat. We’re playing uno.” Tom invites. When you’re done making yourself food, you decide maybe it would be best to join them. It’s not good for your mental health to be stuffed up in your room pitying yourself all day.

You sat with your food in front of you, watching silently as they played.

“You wanna be dealt in the next round? It’s more fun with three players.” Tom offers, you give him a nod in response as your mouth is full of food. As you nod, Adam plays a red six, which ultimately leads to his demise as Tom then plays three red draw 2’s, stopping Adams hand as he goes to pick up and continuing to lay a red skip, then a yellow one, changes the color back to red and ends on his own red 3. You all laughed as Adam was absolutely massacred, almost choking on your lunch.

“There ain’t no coming back from that. Just tap out man.” You say through your laughter, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Adam. You all had small conversation as you finished your lunch, but soon you were done and the cards were passed out.

After a game or two, the round was paused as Adam stood up to get himself a glass of water, Tom and you shouting out your own drink orders from your place in the living room. By the time Adam was back at the table the running conversation had died down a bit. You began to think about why you’d been in bed all day, and the fact that Dom still attributed it to a small sickness. You felt the insecurity growing inside you once again, and you finally decided to talk about it.

“Did you guys like Ashley?” You ask, as inconspicuously as you could manage.  You watch as they glance at each other, taking a sip of your drink to occupy your mouth.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Tom says, Adam nodding in confirmation “Why?”

“Just curious, I guess. Did you guys ever hang out?” You tried to play it off as casual conversation, but you got the feeling they were picking up on the fact that there was something more under the surface.

“Not really. Not without Dom, even then it was rare. Who’s turn was it?” Tom continued, feeding into your curiosity while trying to maintain the card game.

“Yours, I think.” You paused for a moment, thinking of your next question “Do you think she was better for him than I am?” Your eyes met with Tom’s as the words left your mouth. He stayed silent for a moment and you couldn’t tell what the emotion on his face was. It felt weird, confiding in your boyfriend’s friends. Usually you could tell what your friends were thinking, or have an idea about what they might say, but you didn’t know these two like that.

“Like how?” He asked, nodding towards you to silently mention it was your turn.

“I dunno, they have the same career.” they let out a small laugh at that.

“She knows how to play a guitar so she loves him more?” Adam says

“Well, no, but…” you tried to remember what you were anxious about “she gets it. She knows what it's like to be on the road all the time and not see your family, she knows about the mental toll being in the public eye has and how to deal with it, she knows how to help if he’s nervous about performing.”

“What makes you assume that?” Tom asks

“She’s been doing it so long.”

“Well, yeah, but knowing how to do that isn’t a part of the job description. It’s less about knowing how to be famous and more about knowing the person you’re with. If it was about that, most people in Dom’s life don't get it. But we get Dom, and that’s what he cares about. You get him, so you have nothing to worry about.” Tom says softly. He made a surprisingly good therapist. 

You nodded, picking up 4 cards and sorting through them in your hand.

“But that doesn't mean you get to hide in your room cause you’re insecure. Just cause we’re talking about it doesn’t mean you don’t still need to tell him.” Tom continues, his chin resting in his hand as he looks at you.

“Yeah, of course.” You agree

~~~

You could hear Dom the second he walked in the house, engaging in a small conversation with the boys before making his way up the stairs. You heard his footsteps trail down the hallway and eventually meet your bedroom door, your eyes closing as you listened to it creak open.

“Love? Are you up?” Dom whispered, shutting the door softly behind him. You remained silent, trying to regulate your breathing like that of someone who’s asleep. He sighed, which made your heart crumple a bit. You wondered if you should respond, he might’ve had a hard day, but the nerves took over and you remained silent. 

“You’re still sleeping?” He asked, partially to himself, before exiting the room once more. You could hear him talking with Tom from outside the door.

“Has Y/N been asleep all day?”

“Uh, no. She came out and ate lunch and played uno with us around 2. Is she asleep now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

You planned on talking it out with him, and up until he walked into the house you were, but you were suddenly overcome with intense nerves and all you wanted to do was hide.  You figured you would get a good night's rest and talk it out with him in the morning, that way if it went badly he would be out for most of the day at the studio and you wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence as you tried to sleep.

He entered the room once again, stripping himself of his clothes as he preferred to sleep half naked, before joining you in bed. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him and wrapping you both in the blankets. Flipping over to face him, you nuzzled closer into his arms.

“Y/N?” He asks again, shifting to see if you’re awake. You hum in response this time, curious as to what he might have to say.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his hand returning to your cheek as it was this morning. You nod, letting out a small, genuine yawn as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“How was your day?” You ask, shifting the conversation. 

“It was good. We finally got that song done, I think i’m gonna play with it a bit more tomorrow though. It’s good but I think it could be better.”

“You always think it can be better.”

“It always can.” He states simply, making you smile. You loved that about him, his pure determination and dedication to his craft. It can always be better.

“How was your day? Tom said you guys played a bit of uno, who won?”

“It was alright. Yeah, him and Adam were playing when I came down so I decided to join them. I think overall it was probably Tom though, I think he was cheating.” Dom laughed a little at the claim, brushing his fingers through your mess of a hair.

“So...” You began, needing to get a word out so you wouldn’t bail on talking about this. God, you hated confrontation. Especially when it was about something you were feeling. 

Dom hummed in response, the gentle reminder to continue breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?” He encouraged

“No. I was a bit tired though. But, that wasn’t the problem. I was watching youtube last night and I came across a video someone made. It was, like, a compilation of cute moments or whatever so I watched it cause it was cute. Then I watched another, and a few more, and eventually I came across a video that was called ‘Halsey and YUNGBLUD being soulmates for 3 minutes’... and I watched it.” He lets out a small, quiet snort, not entirely catching onto  the vibe of the conversation.

“Jeez, how do they come up with this shit.” He remarked lovingly

“Heh, yeah. It’s just… I watched it and I saw the way you talked about and looked at her… It just got me thinking, yenno?”

“I don’t. What’d it get you thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

“I just felt like maybe you regretted being with me. Maybe you’re still bummed that you guys broke up and you ended up with me. Like maybe you still miss her.” You admit. It’s silent for a moment as he takes it all in, you almost expect him to confirm your suspicions.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you feel like that.” He took a moment to think carefully about his next words “I know it must be hard to hear me talk about someone else like that, you can’t really escape my past relationships because of who I am. I honestly never thought of that. I love you, okay? Not anybody else. Obviously she and I had something, but it’s completely in the past and I don’t regret a thing because it led me to you, and I love you so much. You’re my fookin soulmate, I mean it. I’m not gonna let that slip out of your head ever again.” He said, punctuating it with a passionate kiss.

You expected the kiss to end rather quickly, but it didn’t. It kept going, building in intensity as you scooted closer to one another. 

“I love you.” You whisper, breaking the kiss momentarily

“I love you so much, pretty girl” He responds, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

“Hmm, show me.” You whisper, pulling him closer. His hand slides down your side and onto your thigh as your lips meet again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling away lightly before indulging in the kiss once again.

Dom’s hands didn’t stay in one place for long, moving about your body as you made out, pausing his actions for a moment to take your shirt off, placing a kiss to each of your breasts before moving his lips up to your neck, leaving little marks for you to find in the morning. A chill ran down your back as he bit down on your ear, his hands massaging your breasts before reaching behind you and unbuckling your bra, throwing it off to the side and shifting his attention to your nipple. Taking it into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat against it as you lie down to give him a better angle.

His tongue flicking against your nipple while his hand plays with your other nipple. He swapped between which he used his mouth on and which he used his hand, making sure to give them both equal attention,  your hands tangling themself into his hair while he did so. When he was satisfied he pulled away, causing you to let out a small whimper as you felt his lips leave you, making their way down your stomach in a series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

When he made it to your underwear he licked a single stripe, taking his his sweet, sweet time. First, kissing his way up one thigh, then back down and ghosting his lips over the area you needed him both, taking a moment to inhale your scent before kissing his way back up the other leg, and right back down. 

“Please.” You whine

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He hushed, pulling your panties down your legs and glancing up at you as he did so, mimicking your pout before placing a chaste kiss on your clit. You leant your head back, closing your eyes as you waited patiently for him to begin. 

He started off slowly, licking up your slit as he took his time with you. Dom loved to use his tongue anytime he could, you loved it too. When he ate you out, it wasn’t just tongue, he made sure to pay attention to your clit and use his fingers when needed but on nights like tonight, where he really wanted to drive you crazy, he made sure to use a lot of tongue.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs as he lost himself in you, holding you like if he didn’t you would take his meal away. You tried your best to suppress the moans he was pulling out of you, knowing Adam and Tom were just rooms away. The way he was working you left you wishing you had come to him with this sooner. Your hips came up to meet his actions, your hand placed firmly on the back of his head, pushing him as far into you as he could go, eager to meet your release. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride daddy’s face. Let daddy show you how much you mean to him.” He hums, taking a moment to catch his breath. You do as you’re told, the request putting you in anything but a bratty mood. You let out a small moan as he continues his actions, your hips setting the pace.

Once again, it started off slow, until you began to work yourself up. Your hand reached down, tangling itself in his hair once again, tugging as you tried to push yourself further down, your hips speeding up while you bite your tongue to keep down the moans that clawed their way up your throat.

You could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, squeaking out to Dom that you were gonna cum before releasing on his tongue. He let you remain there for a minute, riding out your high while he massaged and kissed your thighs. When you had fully come down you move yourself off his face, making your way down to his bulge where you began to unbutton his pants. His hand quickly came down to stop you.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you.”

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You say, giving him a small pout. He stops to think for a moment before taking off his pants pulling you over him, giving himself a few painfully slow strokes before slipping himself inside of you. Your hips rocked carefully against him, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands continued to massage your hips as you found your pace, finding it harder and harder to remain silent.

“You’re so beautiful, pretty girl. Daddy loves to watch you bounce on his cock.” Dom growls, his hips coming up to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, you give up on holding back your moans at this point as it’s already very obvious to anyone in the house what's happening upstairs. 

The bed was creaking, your skin  slapping together as he thrust into you, unable to cease the  loud moans falling past your lips. Your legs began to shake as you approached your second release. Dom pulls you close, holding you, the gentle gesture in sharp contrast with the way he’s pounding away at you.

“Please can I cum.” You whimper

“One moment,” he interrupted himself with a groan “I wanna cum with ya, love.”

You held on as best you could, melting into his grasp as he worked towards finishing himself off. Soon after he growled a barely audible “Cum.” signifying his release. You moaned against each other, Dom pulling you closer as close wasn’t close enough. He maintained his actions, riding through your orgasm with one hand in your hair and the other lovingly stroking your thigh.

“Daddy’s got you babygirl.” He whispers into your ear, hushing you as you come down from your high.

When you finally felt well enough to sit up, your muscles hurt from the strain so you and Dom decided to have a bath.

He got up to run the bath water just the way you liked it and insisted on carrying you there, because ‘You’re hurtin’ so you can’t walk.’

You didn’t mind, though, laying your head on his shoulder as he carried you princess style into the bathroom. Luckily, the boys were in their rooms with the doors closed, presumably to suppress some of the noise.

The warm watered soothed your aching as you sat with Dom behind you, his wet hands stroking your arms with his head buried in your neck while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

After that night, you didn’t think you’d ever question your relationship with Dom again.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Invisible String

Summary - Dean Winchester was never a man who would freely speak about his feelings and emotions. The reader, is his best friend of many years but some wrong choices and words of Dean's pushes a the reader away.

Pairing - AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings - Fluff (lots of fluff), angst-ish, swearing, mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of bad parenting, cheating

Square filled - Bestfriend AU ( @spndeanbingo )

Word count - 6150

A/N - This is written for @supernatural-jackles' Bi-weekly challenge. The prompts are in bold. Spn dividers by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89 (go check her blog out) Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661 (she is a sweetheart for agreeing to take a look at this long fic. Thank you💕)

“So what are we watching?” You asked as you slumped down on the yellow couch. You were dead on your feet after a long week of work but you just couldn't break tradition and not hang out with your best friend like every friday. Pulling the comforter close to your body, you let out a sigh of contentment. Truth be told, no matter how exhausted you were, you always looked forward to movie night.

“I picked the movie last friday, now it's your turn,” Dean handed you a bottle of beer and took a seat beside you. Your eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, a knowing smile appeared on your face as Dean's lips curled up in disgust. “No chick flicks,” he warned.

“I get to call dibs on the movie tonight so I picked,” you paused for a second to create a dramatic effect, “The Proposal.”

“No!” Dean cried out in horror.

“Oh come on, it is not going to be that bad. Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock are in that movie.” you winked at him, making him groan and he picked up a cushion to cover his face, “Now, now don't be so dramatic.” He removed the cushion from his face and glared at you. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Pizza's here!” He exclaimed as he got up to open the door. You turned on the tv, opened Netflix and put on the movie.

“I don't understand how we can be best friends,” Dean grumbled as he came back to the room, “you eat your pizza with pineapple on it.” “It tastes good. You should try it one day.” you said and took the two boxes of food from his hand, setting them down on the table in front.

“Are you kidding me? Even if that becomes the only food available on earth, I still won't eat it. You can't put fruits on pizza,” he said, and took a slice from his own pizza and nestled into the comforter beside you.

“Tomato is a fruit, De,” you said, biting into the slice in your hand. You heard him mutter something under his breath which you ignored and shifted your focus to the movie playing on the screen. Halfway through the movie, you yawned and snuggled into your best friend. He wrapped his warm hands around you, pulling you closer to him. “You want to head back now?” He asked softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, “I want to finish the movie. I need to see if Andrew got Margaret back .” That elicited a chuckle from Dean, the vibrations of his laugh shaking your body a little.

“You're so stubborn and they are gonna find each other, it's a chick flick for God's sake,” he said, “they love each other, clearly.”

“Speaking of love, Cas asked me out,” you said, making Dean sit up straight. “What'd you say?” He asked

“Yes obviously. I need to dive back into the dating life,” you shrugged, “and Cas seems like a good guy.”

“He is but I thought you wanted to wait because of what happened with you know ‘ he who must not be named’,” he said, and you picked up the remote to pause the movie.

“I can't live in the past. I need to move on. It has been two years since I've gone on a date and it's not like I'm getting engaged tomorrow. It's just a date,” you said, messing with the loose end of the comforter.

“As you wish. I'm just looking out for you.”

“I know. You always do,” you said, giving Dean a tight hug, “and I kinda miss doing it.”

“Doing what?” “Sex,” Dean's eyebrows shot up, “oh come on, it's not like I didn't use to have sex with….him.”

“So,” he gulped, “so you m-miss doing….it?”

“Kind of. My fingers are not enough, you know what I mean right?”

“Of course, of course,” Dean cleared his throat, blush crept up his neck.

“And it's not just sex, I miss the physical touch, I miss those things that are part of a relationship,” you said, “I need this and I think I'm ready.”

“If you think you're ready, then it's fine. I just don't want to see my best friend with a broken heart again.” he said, his fingers getting entangled in your hair, as he slowly massaged your scalp.

“That feels good,” you moaned, “after that hell of a meeting with Azazel, I needed this night De. Thank you for always being there.”

“You're my best friend. I'll always be there when you need me even if you make me watch stupid romcoms.” he grinned, “Azazel creating problems again?”

“He never seems to approve of the templates and designs I make no matter how hard I try to make them loveable and on the other hand, the shitty designs made by Abaddon always gets approved.” you groan.

“Why don't you change jobs?”

“I can't. It's not that simple. Life's going good. I don't want to disrupt it by going on a job hunt.” you sighed.

“What if you start working for my company?” You immediately turned your head towards Dean and looked at him with surprise clear in your eyes.

“No.” “Why not?

“I'm a graphic designer, De. I'm not built to work in your company,” you said.

“Be my PA. I really need a personal assistant to help me keep upto date with my schedule and I'm a mess after Charlie left.” Dean said.

“But what is my job criteria? That I'm your best friend? It's like taking advantage of you. I can't do that.”

“What if you work as my PA after being interviewed for the job?” He asked. “Fine, maybe I can give it a shot,” you said.

“Awesome! Meet me in my office on Monday, ten in the morning, sharp. I don't tolerate tardiness.” he said, slipping quickly in the work mode.

“Aye, aye captain.” You giggled, but a deep frown soon appeared on your face.

“What?” “What if it messes up our relationship?”

“It won't. I know how to separate my work life from my personal one,” Dean assured.

“I guess, then it's okay,” you smiled.

“So about your date with Cas. Where's he taking you?”

“I have no idea,” you chuckled, “he said it will be a surprise.”

“That's-that's great but he should know that you hate surprises,” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“He doesn't know me very well. I'll let that pass this one time,” you told Dean.

“Fair enough,” he laughed. You yawned once more, as you tried to fight the drowsiness that was threatening to take over you.

“You want to head back home now or you want to crash here tonight, sleepyhead?” Dean smiled.

“I don't think I can drive all the way in such a state. Do you mind if I crash here?” You grinned, knowing very well he didn't mind because you crashed in his guest rooms on most of the Friday nights. He rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch.

“I'll prepare the guest room.” You sleepily nodded at him. You didn't realise you had fallen asleep but you were soon woken up when you felt your body move.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up. I'm taking you to bed,” you found yourself in Dean's arms as he headed towards the guest room with you, “you looked too peaceful sleeping. Go back to sleep.” He softly murmured. Dean gently placed you in the bed, pulling the cover upto your chest as you snuggled into the warmth of the covers. Within a few minutes, you had dozed off.

“Morning, sunshine. Pancakes for you,” Dean's loud voice woke you up from your deep slumber the next morning. You sat up in your bed, as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, the smell of pancakes hitting your nose.

“Breakfast in bed for my girl. Listen I gotta run to the office now,” he said as he handed you the plate of freshly cooked pancakes to you.

“It's Saturday!” You exclaimed.

“I know but Benny wanted to sign the deal with our company today. It's an important one, we can't let that go out of our hands,” he made you understand, “I'll be back within a few hours.”

“Sufe fing. I wif ve here,” you spoke with your mouth full, “Sure thing. I will be here.” You repeated your words after swallowing your food.

“Maggie will drop by. If you want to leave the house before I return, give the keys to her.” He said as he went back into his room to put his suit on.

“Hot damn,” you let out a low whistle as Dean stepped out of the room in his black suit, “Go get the deal, cowboy!” Dean did a full body laugh at your words, throwing his head backwards before he bid you goodbye and walked out of the door leaving you alone in his penthouse. Finishing your breakfast, you got up and got freshened up for the day. You picked up your phone and saw three texts from Cas.

“Meet me at 7.” “At the Season's 52.” “I'm looking forward to this.”

A smile crept onto your face, as you read the texts from him. “I need your help,” you shot a text to Ruby, “I've a date tonight. I don't know what to wear.” You waited for her to text back but instead of getting a text, you got a call from her.

“He finally asked you out?” She screamed from the other side of the phone.

“What do you mean “finally”?” You wondered.

“Oh come on, Y/N. How long have you two known each other?” “Uh-two months.”

“Two-wait, two months? You don't have a date with Dean?” She asked.

“No! Why would you think that?” You exclaimed, “Cas asked me out.”

“Cas? As in Castiel Novak? Dean's friend? And Dean's okay with it?”

“What's with the twenty questions, Ruby?” You said, annoyed at her questions, “And yes. Dean's fine with it. Why wouldn't he be? He is dating Lisa, in case you didn't remember. Now will you help me? I need a dress for tonight.”

Ruby agreed to go on a little shopping spree with you to find the perfect dress. Handing over the keys to Maggie, the housekeeper, you shot a text to Dean letting him know you were leaving his house. You waited for some time but he didn't text you back. You shrugged it off thinking he was probably busy with the meeting. Your whole afternoon was spent with Ruby as you tried to find a good dress for the date. She made you try on what seemed like a hundred dresses of different colours and style until a green bottleneck dress finally caught your eyes.

“This is a beautiful dress! You gotta try it on,” Your friend insisted.

“You sure? Look at the price - it's too expensive,” you pouted.

“Do you want to get laid tonight?” Ruby quirked her eyebrow.

“Yeah-I mean no….maybe,” you stutter.

“That dress - Cas won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight,” she smiled.

“Fine, if you insist.” Needless to say, the dress was a perfect fit but it was all for nothing.

Tapping on the hardwood of the table, you let out a frustrating sigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you took a sip of the drink.

“Ma'am do you-are you going to-”

“Please bring the check. I'm done here,” you said, barely managing to keep your tears at bay. The waitress nodded and walked away from your table. You dialed up your best friend’s number and waited for him to pick up.

“Dean,” you said, sniffling a little as he picked up his phone after the third ring. “Y/N, you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you,” you cleared your throat, “Can you pick me up? I'm at Season’s 52.”

“Sure,” you heard shuffling on the other side, “I'll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” you replied.

“He just didn't show up,” you sniffled as Dean drove yourselves back to his house.

“Maybe-maybe he had his reasons,” Dean said, throwing a worried glance at your way.

“Reasons?” You scoffed.

“Cas is a good man. This is very unlike him,” Dean said.

“Am I-am I not good enough, Dean?” “Y/N, you know that's not true. You're pretty, smart, a little badass - you are a good person with a kind heart,” Dean smiled.

“Then why? Why didn't he show up? He could have left a message. I'm telling you Dean, I'm so over men now. All men are the same,” you looked at him, “except you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. That is good to hear.”

“I sure do know how to choose,” you grumbled.

“Y/N, it's just one bad date. So what? Cas is not the only man in the whole world. You'll find someone,” Dean said, pulling into his driveway.

“I don't think so. Maybe he was right,” you opened the door of the car to step out.

“Who?”

“Alistair. Maybe he is right. Maybe the problem is me,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. Dean grabbed your hands and pulled you back into the car.

“No. He is not right. Alistair will never be right. He was an abusive and manipulative son of a bitch. Listen to me, you are not the problem, sweetheart,” he said, “those men just don't understand you.”

“Is that why no one sticks around?” You turned around to face him with wet eyes.

“I did and I will always be there for you,” he said, his hands cupping your face.

“I know, De,” you leaned into his touch as his thumb gently caressed your cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by three harsh taps on the car window. Dean immediately opened the door and stepped out.

“Lisa.” He said.

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Lisa exclaimed. You couldn't see her face but you knew she was furious.

“It's not what it looks like,” Dean whispered.

“You just up and left me in the morning and now when I get back to talk things out, I find you cozying up to her. I'm done with you!” She yelled back. You shrunk back into your seat when you heard her scream. Dean didn't even tell you that he had broken up with her. You wondered why he hid it from you.

“I already said we were over Lisa, just go back home,” Dean said and brought his hand down his face.

“Three years of relationship meant nothing to you! Why?” Lisa shoved Dean, making him stumble back a little.

“I don't owe you an explanation, okay?”

“You cheating asshole-” “I didn't cheat on you, Lisa. I-I'm just not in love with you anymore,” Dean said, making her scoff.

“Have a nice life, asshole!” Lisa said and you heard her retreating footsteps. You stepped out of the car and saw Dean standing against the car, with his face buried in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” You rubbed his arm gently.

“Yeah. I'm sorry you had to hear that,” he sighed.

“Why didn't you tell me you broke up with her?” You asked.

“It wasn’t important.” “Not important? You let me ramble all the way from the restaurant to your house but not once did you tell me you broke up with her,” you said.

“Y/N, I'm fine. Can we drop this now?” He snapped at you, “I'm sorry.”

“S’okay,” you gave him a sad smile, “I've an idea.”

“Does this idea include booze?” “What do ya think?” “I'm in.”

“What time is it?” You groaned as bright light hit your eyes. The throbbing pain in your head increased as you opened your eyes, trying to focus on the human figure standing in your doorway.

“You got wasted last night, sweetheart,” Dean grinned.

“Stop talking. Just stop talking,” you groaned and nestled deep into your covers.

“Aspirin. You will need these,” he kept the medicine on the nightstand, and walked away, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Morning, how's the hangover?” He gave you a cheeky smile as you walked into the dining room a few minutes later. Dean had his laptop opened in front of him, a cup of coffee beside the electronic device. “You're enjoying this too much, aren't ya? How come you're not hung-over?” You grumbled, “I'm hungry.”

“Here. I made waffles because my heartbroken, hung-over best friend needs her comfort food. Dig in,” he said and pushed a plate of waffles towards you, “I didn't drink much.”

“I thought we were drinking because you had a breakup.” “I told you already I'm not feeling miserable. See there's this girl I like who is not Lisa. I'm thinkin’ of asking her out so I did what I had to do. I ended things with Lisa,” Dean said.

“How come you never told me about this girl?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “‘Cause I wasn't sure how I felt but two days ago I saw her and I just knew that she is the one I want to be with,” he smiled.

“You're such a sap.” You giggled, “she must be very special.”

“She is very special. I have never met a girl like her,” he said, staring at you, “now, eat up.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, taking a bite of the waffles on your plate, “you know, you should give up your business and open up a coffee shop. You make excellent waffles.”

“Sorry sweetheart, no can do. People at work will miss me too much,” he chuckled, “you do remember you are interviewing for the position of PA tomorrow?”

“Yep but I don't know if I will get it or not. I have heard the CEO of the company is kind of a shithead,” you grinned.

“Oh really?” Dean looked at you with amused eyes, “You're terrible.”

“Yeah, so I've heard.” You laughed.

He shook his head at you, “Listen, I have a favour to ask.” “Shoot.”

“I would like it if you could accompany me to Sam and Jess’ anniversary party tonight,” he said.

“Tonight?” “Yeah. I know it's very sudden but it completely sli-”

“I'll go with you but I thought you told me that after what happened with your Dad last time, you wouldn't be attending another family gathering,” you said.

“Uh-huh. Sam insisted that I attend this party,” he replied.

“Fine I'll be there with you at the party to save you from John Winchester,” you giggled.

“You'll be my knight in shining armour tonight.” He chuckled.

You went back to your apartment to get ready for the party. Dean had told you that he would be picking you up at six that evening. As you touched up on your makeup, you heard three knocks on your door.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Dean smirked, looking dapper in a black two-piece suit.

“Good evening, Dean. I'll be out in a minute,” you blushed when you saw his eyes travel all over your body.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“De-” you snaked placed your hand over his, as you both sat inside the Impala with her engine turned off.

“I can't do this Y/N. I can't face John Winchester again, not after the crap he pulled last time,” he gritted out the words, his knuckles turning white as he held the steering wheel tightly, staring off at the direction of his house.

“Why are you here?” He looked at you in surprise. “I-Sam asked me to be here,” he said.

“Exactly. Your little brother asked you to be here so you will go into that house and attend your brother's party. It's up to you if you want to make any small talk, I'll be there with you but Dean you can't avoid your father forever-”

“I'm not avoiding him,” Dean said.

“Yes, you are. Now go in there, ask him why he did that, demand answers from him,” you said.

“I-okay, let's go. Just don't leave my side tonight or someone might get hurt,” he said.

“You're not going to punch your Dad,” you mumbled, “even though he deserves it.” He chuckled at your words as you two stepped out of the car.

“I'll never get used to the fact that you grew up in a mansion,” you smirked.

“It's not a mansion. It's a….big house,” he smiled.

“Yep, whatever you say.” As soon as you stepped through the door of the mansion, Dean was immediately pulled into a hug. “I thought you wouldn't show up,” Sam said, letting go of his brother, “Hey Y/N.”

“Almost didn't,” the older Winchester replied as you gave the younger one a small wave. “He showed up, didn't he? What about Mom?”

“Mom and Dad are in the living room. Last thing I saw they are not speaking to each other even when they are in the same room. I just want everyone to act civil till the party's over,” Sam said, “Drinks are in the kitchen.”

“So kitchen first, living room later. Keep John out of my sight and everything will be perfect,” Dean patted his brother's shoulder and made his way towards the kitchen, taking you with him. Pouring himself a glass, he handed you one.

“Dean,” a deep voice came from the doorway, making Dean stand up straight. “Sam had one job. Dad.” He looked at John and gave him a curt reply.

There was a moment of awkward silence as no words were exchanged between the father and the son. You could feel Dean trying his level best to keep himself from screaming at his Dad. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“I know you don't want to see me right now-” “You're right and you may leave now,” Dean said and turned his back towards his father.

“Son. You have to understand, it was a long time back and I didn't know what was going through my head. I-” John sighed.

“You what? You had a perfect family here. A wife, two sons. And all this time, you knew about Adam but you said nothing. You kept up with the charade of the perfect husband and father when in reality you were neither of them,” Dean gritted out.

“Dean. Maybe I was not the perfect husband but I did everything for you and Sam,” the older man said in a harsh tone.

“Really? You did everything? You were nothing but an absent father. I was there to take care of Mom and Sammy while you were away on your so-called business trips when actually you were plowing another woman's field,” Dean growled at his father.

“Dean!” His father snapped back.

“Mr. Winchester you should leave now,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand, “John, please.”

“This is family matter Y/N. You have no right to get involved in this,” John retorted.

“Don't speak to her like that. She is more family to me than you ever were,” Dean said and stalked towards his Dad, “so you can leave now. I'm sure as hell Mom is not talking to you so you can get the hell out of this house now, John.”

“Dean-” “Now,” Dean growled.

“I would do what he says, John,” you said. John scoffed, turning around and got out of the house. Dean plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, gently rubbing his temples.

“You sure you're okay?” “I need a stronger drink,” he murmured.

“I saw Dad leave. What happened?” Sam came into the kitchen and asked as he looked at his brother.

“I told you to keep John away from me. You had one job,” Dean snapped and stormed out of the room, grabbing a glass of drink with him.

“He just needs some time to cool down. John came to talk to Dean and-”

“Yeah I understood. I'm gonna check on Mom. This party was a mistake,” Sam said and left the kitchen leaving you standing there alone.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you finished up your drink. You were angry at John too. He had hurt Dean, your best friend. He was a liar and you hated liars. You needed to go find Dean. You placed the empty glass on the counter and made your towards the door but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him.

“Cas,” you said, “I didn't expect you to be here.”

“Yeah well, Sam is a good friend so he invited me over.” Cas gave you a smile.

“Oh.” You nodded.

“We should probably address the elephant in the room,” he gave an awkward laugh.

“Huh? Oh you mean how you stood me up last night?” You glared at him.

“Well you didn't tell me that you were looking for only a one night stand? I would have backed out sooner. I like you Y/N but I don't do one night-”

“Wait, hold on. Who told you I was looking for a one time, no strings attached thing?”

“Dean told me,” your jaw dropped onto the floor at his confession, “I'm sorry Y-”

“S’okay.” You brushed him off, “I need to have a word with Dean, have you seen him?”

“I think he was talking to Kevin over there,” Cas pointed you towards another room.

“Thanks and it's okay, Cas. We're cool.” You said and almost ran your way into the other room.

“I'm telling you man, you deserve someone better than Y/N. She is clingy and she doesn't take no for an answer. I can give you her number but-” Dean turned around and his eyes locked with your wet ones. You shook your head at him, a look of betrayal evident on your face. You heard him call out to you as you turned on your heels and ran towards the door. “Excuse me, Kevin,” Dean said and went after you but by that time you were already out of the house. “Y/N!” He called, as you pulled out your phone to call for an uber.

“Fuck you!” You exclaimed, “I'm clingy, I don't take no for an answer. Is that what you think of me? All this time while you pretended to be my best friend, is this what went through your head?” Tears were running down your face now, “how many times was I there for you when you needed me and this is how you repay me?”

“I didn't mean to say it like that. You are my best friend Y/N-”

“You are a fuckin’ liar! You told Cas that I was looking for a person to keep my bed warm for only one night. Why? You know what, I don't want to talk to you right now. Leave me alone,” you said.

“No, please,” he took a step towards you. “Don't you dare make a move!” You screamed, “You lied to me and I hate liars more than anything. You are no better than your Dad. I hate you! I regret that I ever thought of you as my best friend.” You heard shuffling behind you and turned around to see him leaving. A sob tore from your throat. Standing there alone on the porch of the Winchester mansion, with your smudged makeup, you waited for the uber to show up.

It took you one hour to finally reach your house. Your phone was getting blown up by messages from the Winchester brothers and Ruby. You broke down in tears as soon as you reached your house. You crawled underneath the covers without bothering to get out of your dress or to remove your makeup. Your body shook as you continued to sob loudly into the pillow. The same man, who acted as your rock when you had left Alistair, gave you shelter in his house when you showed up in the middle of the night because your ex-boyfriend was drunk and was on a rampage, was the one who continued to spew lies about you behind your back. Your trust was shattered just like your heart and you didn't know how to piece them back together. The crying had tired you out and in no time you slipped into a deep slumber with Dean's words haunting your dream.

Morning came way too quickly. You woke up to Ruby knocking on your door along with Dean calling your phone. Your eyes were red and swollen as a result of crying all night long.

“What happened? Who's ass do I need to kick?” Ruby barged into your house as soon as you opened the door as saw you had been crying.

“....Dean.” “Dean? Dean Winchester?” Her eyes widened in surprise which later turned to anger when you told her everything that had happened the day before. Ruby was furious and if Dean was there in the room, he would have been a dead man.

“Oh Y/N,” Ruby cooed as she pulled you into a hug, “I didn't know it was this bad. Sam called me to check on you because you left his house in a hurry. I'm gonna kill Dean Winchester.” You held onto her tightly as sobs racked through your body. She gently caressed your head while cursing the green-eyed Winchester.

You were miserable but what you didn't know is that your ex-best friend was also losing his mind over the incident. The guilt was eating him up alive and he didn't know how to fix it. Sam had punched him in the face and kicked him out of his house when he had told him what happened.

“Tell her the truth or don't ever talk to me again,” Sam had threatened his brother. With red eyes and a swollen cheek, Dean went into his office the next morning. He hoped that after the interview he would get a chance to apologise but you never showed up.

“Okay, Mr. Winchester, that was the last interviewee,” Jody poked in her head into the room. “That was the last? What about uh-Y/N L/N?” Dean asked.

“Uh-she dropped out - called us early in the morning to let us know she won't make it to the interview,” Jody smiled, “I need your decision fast.”

“Decision?” “Who we are hiring for the position of the PA,” she said.

“Sure. I'll let you know. You can go now Jody. Close the door on your way out,” Dean said.

He sighed as he dialed your number, “It's Y/N L/N. She can't get to her phone now. Please leave a message.”

“Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry. You shouldn't have dropped out of the interview. I know you won't ever forgive me but I'm sorry.” You sniffled as you heard his voice message. He had left you exactly fifty-three texts, twenty three missed calls and seventeen voice messages - all had the same words, ‘I'm sorry’ but you couldn't forgive him.

“Stop listening to that asshat,” Ruby grumbled and snatched your phone from you. “I-I just can't understand why he did that? I thought he was my friend,” you sniffled.

“I'm sorry Y/N,” Ruby took a seat beside you and wrapped you in a comforter, “I brought ice cream with me. I heard they work wonders on a broken heart.”

“And you brought my favourite flavour. Thanks!” You hugged but were interrupted by the sound of your doorbell.

“Stay here. Let me check,” Ruby said and went towards the door. Opening it, she stared at a disheveled, sad Dean Winchester.

“Give me one good reason to not kick you out right now,” Ruby glared at Dean.

“I need to talk to her. Please,” Dean’s voice cracked at the end.

“No you won't. She is miserable and I won't let you break her even more,” Ruby challenged, “Now get out.”

“I don't care if I have to fight you but please let me see her,” he pleaded.

“You are one stubborn, lying piece of shit,” Ruby grumbled.

“Why are you here?” the two heads turned immediately towards you.

“I wasn't sure you wanted to see me but I had to see you,” Dean said.

“And why exactly?” Ruby snapped.

“Ruby. It's okay. Let him in. I need to hear him out.” Dean gave Ruby a side eye and let himself in.

“Y/N,” She started. “I'll be fine," you assured her.

“If you need me to kick him out or kick his ass, just call me,” she glared at Dean once more and left your apartment.

“She's scary,” the green-eyed man said. “Well she has to. She just saw her friend with a broken heart,” you threw him his words back.

“I can't tell you how sorry I am,” Dean said, his head hung in shame.

“Why?” He looked up at you, “I don't know,” he replied, making you scoff.

“You don't know? Well maybe because you actually thought of me to be clingy and the girl who doesn't take no for an answer,” you seethed, “and you even lied to Cas about me. You framed me as some whore who doesn't do relationships. Fuck you, Dean! You knew better than anyone how long it took me to get over Alistair. How could you do this to me?”

“I don't know,” he whispered, “It's just I lied to them because I didn't want them to be with you.”

“It's my life! I get to decide who I want to have sex with and who I want to date,” you hissed.

“Well I couldn't let you make those decisions because I didn't want you to choose them. I wanted you to choose me.” he blurted out. You sat there dumbfounded as you heard his confession, "What? Why?"

“Because...I love you,” Dean muttered.

“You love me?” “Yeah.”

“What are you, a kindergartener? Next thing I know you will be pulling my pigtails,” you sassed.

“I'm sorry. You know I'm bad with feelings-” “So you decided to lie?”

“Yeah.” “You're terrible, you know that,” you said.

“So I have heard,” he shrugged. “Come here you idiot,” you beckoned at him. He went towards you and sat down beside you.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just-” “What? You were just fending off the boys?”

“Yeah. At first I was scared that I was falling for my best friend and you knew me, you knew all my horrible secrets, the thoughts that are inside my head which keep me up at night and I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same. I broke up with Lisa for you because whenever I closed my eyes at night I wanted it to be you with me, not Lisa.” You were stunned at his confession. Dean never talked about his feelings, he was extremely good at hiding his feelings so hearing him blurt out about how he felt, surprised you.

“Dean,” you said. “No. I need to say this,” he said, stopping you, “I don't know if you feel the same. Even if you did, I don't think I have a chance after the stunt I pulled yesterday. But sweetheart, you mean everything to me, I swear to never hurt you again. I was planning on asking you out after the party but Kevin had asked for your number so I told him all those lies about you but sweetheart I know what I did….said is unforgivable but please I need you. I need my best friend back.” He looked at you, locking his teary eyes with yours.

“I don't know whether to kiss you or hit you,” you said, wiping away the single tear that rolled down your cheek. “K-kiss me?” Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You are the most horrible person I have ever met. I hate you, Dean but I hate me more that I decided to fall for this horrible person that I call my best friend. Kiss me, before I change my mind,” you said and that's all Dean needed before he crashed his lips into yours. It was a harsh kiss but one filled with longing and love. His hands sneaked to the back of your head, his fingers entangled with your hair as your hands held on to his biceps.

“I'm sorry for hurting you,” he said after he let go of your lips. You sat there with his hands cupping your face, your foreheads touching. “Next time, talk to me,” you whispered.

“I will,” he kissed your forehead, “So Y/N L/N, can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?” “Definitely Dean Winchester, but mind you I'm tough to impress,” you smirked.

“I have plans, special plans for a special girl. I will make you mine,” he said before he leaned in to capture your lips with his once again.

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Fifteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Fourteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Sixteen

Marnie pov.

I walk into the record company, finding a very young guy at the front desk, probably the intern. Encumbered with phone calls and notes, I wait for him to finish everything before speaking. His lost eyes soon find me and he smiles sympathetically.

“Hi Marnie, Luke is in studio three.” he whispers quickly, getting back on the phone.

I smile in thanks, heading down the hallway he's pointed out. I didn't think it would be so easy. The noise coming from behind the door to studio three startles me. The boys are laughing and screaming so loud, it amazes me that no one came to complain.

I knock on the door twice, hard, to try to get their attention over that area. A guy in a cap opens the door, revealing a room with at least eight people inside.

Luke is the first to jump out of his chair, coming over to me, grinning hugely, pulling me into the room. Ash gets up too, following close behind.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I needed to talk to you.” I look at Luke, who agrees. I pull him out of the room as I hear Irwin complain.

"A disregard for my friendship. Before, she used to come here to see me, not to see you, you empty-headed bunch.”

"She never came to see you." Hood opposes.

I ignore the pre school fight, focusing on the tall blonde in front of me. I lean against the wall, letting him get closer.

Luke had spent Friday night with me, taking care of me. We also spent Saturday morning together, just existing on the couch. That was definitely a very good point for both of us and it really strengthened our relationship. It also didn't make him leave my thoughts, earning him the title of the cutest guy I know.

Never would Stephen do that to me, even because when I was bad he didn't even come close, not wanting to “catch my bad energy”.

“You forgot that at home.” I give his coat, trying to hide it was against my will deliver it so easily.

I saw the coat the second Hemmo left the house, but when the perfume enveloped me, I decided for my own good, to just keep it for a little while, spending day and night in it. Luke stares at me with a raised eyebrow before taking the coat from my hands, smiling.

“Funny, I really missed it, but yesterday, I saw it in your stories, so I didn't worry anymore.” I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Let me enjoy that you still don't hate me today."

“Too late.” I interrupt him, biting my lip.

"I wonder if I can pick you up, so we can go to the Troubadour together."

The boys are playing there today, for the Friends of Friends event, and I was particularly excited, it would be the first time I would see them play live. “First time”.

I wrinkle my forehead and look around, pretending I was thinking about it. Luke looks at me in disbelief, holding back his laughter. I pout, shaking my head.

"I think you can! Yes, you can. I allow.” I press my lips together, wanting not to laugh.

“Oh God, you.” he shakes his head, looking away. I let out my laugh. "Can I pick you up at 7pm? I need to be at the Troubadour at least an hour before the show.”

“Of course! No problems. Go! Now I need to talk to Ash.” I push him back to the door.

“It's about my birthday, isn't it?” he opens an excited smile.

I dissolve my expression, wanting to hit him. Damn it, he knows. I feel the surprise party going straight down the drain, but I don't want to give in to it.

“No! The world doesn't revolve around you, Hemmings.” I cross my arm, teasing him.

“It's about my birthday! Alright, I'm going to pretend I don't know anything.” he takes two leaps into place happily.

“My God, I hate you.” I hide my face, sighing. I can't believe he screwed up his own surprise party.

“Hey.” I hear his voice close. I take my hands away from my face, finding his very close. His lips steal a kiss from me, quickly.

“Go away!” I pick up my bag, hitting him.

Luke walks into the studio laughing, yelling at Ash that I've been waiting. I walk around the hallway, wanting to wipe the stupid smile off my face. I hide my face again, returning to the scene that just happened about 50 times, at least.

“Say it!” Ash approaches.

“I hate him!” I point to the studio, taking a deep breath.

“Of course you do! And the sky is green. I can see how much you hate him, by that silly smile on your face.” Irwin raises an eyebrow.

"Don't make me use my purse against you too." I scare away the latest happenings, focusing on what mattered. "Do you have the ring?" he hands me a silver ring set with a black stone.

“Quickly, because he's already noticed he's gone.” I nod, still analyzing the jewelry.

"I'm going right now and tonight I'll return you at the Troubadour." I keep the piece in my bag. "All set for Friday?" he nodded. "You know he knows, don't you? How did he find out?”

“Behind that stupid face, he's smart sometimes.” I roll my eyes at my friend, laughing. “Seriously, if you pay attention, sometimes it feels like there's an elevator song playing in his head. Especially when he's standing staring at something.” I laugh when Ash decides to imitate Luke, staring blankly at the wall.

“You guys are terrible. Well, I'll be on my way, see you later.” I give a kiss on his cheek.

Thursday is Luke's birthday and I, more than anyone, want it to be a perfect day. Also, I want to give him a nice present that somehow doesn't involve my body, as I apparently did before.

Searching the internet, I found a store in east LA that sold some jewelry that I thought would be to his taste. I was going after a box with five rings and three necklaces, which looked like they were made for Luke.

If I could, I would advance the time, just to give the gift soon. I just want to see his face and hope he likes it the way I think it will.

I walk past reception, waving goodbye to the poor receptionist who still seemed tangled up with the phones. Interns.

"Marnie?" I turn around when I hear my name. The man in the dress shirt, who had just passed me, approaches smiling.

“Yes?” I look at him confused.

“Of course, you don't remember. Sorry! I'm John, 5sos’ tour manager. How are you?”

“Oh! I'm great, thanks.” I soften my posture. Being Luke's girlfriend, I must have seen John a thousand times.

"It was quite a scare. I'm relieved you're okay.” I smile gratefully at the concern. "Would you have a minute for us to talk?"

Luke pov.

I lean against the car, waiting for Marnie to get out. I take a deep breath, trying not to let the anxiety get the better of me. We've practically spent the weekend together, we're getting closer, she's letting her guard down with every second we spend together, letting me fight to win her back, and yet here I am, shaking like a stick, as if it was the first time we went out together.

"Pathetic!" I say to myself, not accepting being like this.

We dated for two years, it's not like she was a stranger. I know her better than she does. I already know everything she likes, how she's going to react to every move I make and even then, I'm terrified of doing something wrong.

When I realized I was falling in love again with every detail of her, I didn't think that insecurity would come back with it. In fact, I thought it would be better than the first time, that I would be more confident and secure. But it’s Marnie I'm talking about, she eliminates any security and logic in me.

I twirl the little ring through my fingers, noticing how cold and sweaty my hand was. Yes, that human being not five feet tall, can mess with me.

I hear the door unlock, prompting me to put the ring away quickly. Marnie steps in front of me, walking around with open arms. I give her the dumbest smile.

“So? Am I OK?” she stretches out her Friends of Friends hoddie proudly.

"You look spectacular." I sigh, feeling my heart race.

"Not really, it was a little old thing that was in the back of my closet." she laughs, sounding like her mother last week. I blink a few times, trying to disguise the stupid face I must be making.

“You really look fantastic.” I say before holding her body against mine. I sink my nose into her neck, taking in all of her scent, letting into my bloodstream, fueling the butterflies in my stomach, along with the touch of her skin against mine, even with the clothes between us.

I ease my grip, releasing her, but her body remains pinned to mine and she pulls me back, squeezing me tighter. The action takes me by surprise. Not that I didn't want to hold her, I could live the rest of my life here, in her arms. But that indicated something was wrong.

“Is it everything OK?” I whisper, overcome with worry. Marnie just nods, affirming, or rather lying to me. She's not fine.

Her body pulls away and I see a sad glint in her eyes. My body tenses, seeing that fake smile take her lips, unlike the one she gave just minutes ago. My face hardens, realizing she was acting.

“Marnie…” I start my speech to say that she could tell me anything, but she interrupts me.

“We're late, we need to go. Let's go!” she dodges around me, heading for the car door.

I sigh, seeing that I won't be able to get anything out of her today. As far as I know, she doesn't want to spoil the night and will hold it off until the end. I hate when she does that. Keep everything to herself, without the slightest need, we can share the problem and even the pain, that's what a couple does, they support each other.

We left the building, taking the expressway to get there faster. Marnie babbles about her excitement to see the band play live. Normally, I love to hear and see her talk too much. Seeing her eyes flashing rapidly, her tongue getting tangled up in some difficult word, or seeing her start to laugh before she can get the funny part out. Her clumsy hands, moving quickly until she managed to drop something.

But now, I can only move my head automatically, still with my mind on her bad performance from before. Until this morning everything was fine, she was excited and happy. Until minutes ago she was happy. But now it's just a facade covering something I can't quite make out what it is.

She didn't argue with Leah, because the gossip didn't get through to me, and I'm sure Noah would have let me know by now, so we can set the process for the two of them to make up. I didn't see anything on the internet that could have messed with her. Unless something happened during the photo shoot.

"Luke?" I look quickly at her, who was looking at me amused. “Are you OK?” now she was the one asking.

“Yeah! Sorry, I daydreamed a bit. Thinking about everything I need to do getting there. What did you say?” I try to push my worry away, focusing solely on her, which is what I cared about.

"I asked if you're going to play my song?" my cheeks heat up. She knows?

"What song?" I question carefully.

“The one made for me, Amnesia.” I stop at the light, staring at her mischievous smile. This one is not fake.

"You didn't make that joke." I say disappointed. Marnie laughs beside me. “I refuse to accept that you made such a horrible joke. Marnie, you were not like that.” I shake my head.

“It was good, you can't deny it.” she pulls my hand into her lap. I freeze from the movement, feeling my skin tingle.

“It was terrible and it insults me somehow. I taught you wonderful jokes.” her fake, forced laugh catches my attention as I accelerate.

"I hear your jokes are horrible." I look quickly at her, who's sitting sideways, her head leaning back against the bench. Shit, she is so beautiful.

“This is a huge lie.” her laugh fills the car again.

The mood gets better the rest of the way. I still have my mind hammering at that moment, but I leave it for later, as she probably would. We entered through the back of the Troubadour, meeting everyone in the hallway and dressing room.

I hold her hand, pulling her close to me as we walk into the crowd. As I expected, M&Ms become the center of everything, everyone wants to say hello to her and see if she really was okay. I leave her for a few seconds in everyone's company, pulling Ashton and Leah aside.

"Do you guys know if something happened to Marnie?" They deny it. "Didn't you discuss?"

“No! In fact, I'm missing it.” Leah turns her face away, watching M&Ms laugh among the crowd. “What there was?” she looks at me again. I resume the scene for the two of them.

“She was fine when she left the record company.” Ash reinforces my thinking.

"I didn't know anything about today's photo shoot." Leah adds. "You don't think Stephen might have shown up again, do you? Or even that bitch? Bethany?” I shake my head.

Stephen had to be really, really dumb to show up to Marnie after she said she knew everything. And Bethany never tried to talk to her after what happened, I doubt she would try now.

“I'm sure she doesn't want to say anything yet so as not to spoil the night, we know how she is.” Leah rolls her eyes, she also hates such an attitude. “But later on, she might tell what happened and right away it will be with one of the three of us.”

"If she says anything later, I'll talk to you." Hastings warns.

I thank the brunette, who quickly rejoins Marnie. I watch her extend her still-in-a-cast arm for them to sign in the few empty spaces.

I quickly prepare for the show so I can stay with her for a few more seconds before taking the stage. I position myself behind her, who was sitting on the arm of the sofa, letting her body lean against mine. I watch for her hand moving up to her shoulder, placing it under mine. I drop a kiss to her pink hair, watching her lean her head back further, looking up at me with a beautiful smile.

Shit, I'm so in love with her.

Minutes after a lot of mess, we got ready for the stage. Marnie comes to me before running to their place. I adjust the guitar, opening my arms to her, who comes bouncing.

"How much have you had to drink?" I ask, laughing, looking at her rosy cheeks.

“Just a little.” It hangs around my neck. “I promise not to pick a fight with anyone." she laughs.

“Thanks! I feel more relaxed.”

“Good show!” she wish me, stealing a kiss like I did earlier.

Marnie escapes my arms like sand, running to the door and running away hand in hand with Leah. I rub my face hard, not accepting how she can move me so much.

I approach the guys, doing our circle like every time we go on stage.

The lights blind me for a few seconds and soon I can see that sea of ​​people ecstatic to see us there. Ashton takes the lead, thanking everyone in advance for their presence and explaining why we're there.

I position myself at the microphone, ready to start singing Youngblood. Before I give the cue, I look upstairs, seeing her cotton candy hair watching me with a mixture of admiration and sadness. I blink at her, who smiles lightly and without strength. I play the chord, trying to focus my attention on the show and the new song I'm going to sing for her next, but all that goes around my head is: What's going on, Marnie?

OMG! Luke's new music video, am I right?

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ KEEPING UP WITH THE ARIZAS ❜

A serie with Michael ‘Riz’ Ariza.

Summary of chapter nine, “The fight”: this one is based on seven years ago, a continuation of chapter seven, ‘The first date: the first attempt’.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.4k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @fromthesixteenthfloor

Masterlist.

One month hiding in the ranch, that was consuming you down. Declining Riz's calls, and every incoming call from any Mayan. Your father told them that you were busy with final exams, but your excuses ran out when the summer came and you finished college. Coco wrote you a hundred texts asking you to come to the clubhouse, because he was being full patched and that he wanted to celebrate it with you. And you wish you could find a pretext to avoid it, but you had to face reality. You were broken after your father's words about that Riz would never notice you as more than his best friend's kid, and you have to start to live with that. You didn't care much about your outfit, simply wearing a pair of high-waist shorts, a crop top and a pair of sneakers. You were just to have some quick beers, that was all, before coming back to your misery.

The crew received you between teases and jokes, hugs and kisses. Coco was pretty excited showing you the new patches on the back of his leather kutte, touring them with your fingertips. Until you watched Riz fighting against the other prospect inside the ring. For a moment, you greeted Angel for kicking his ass, just because he didn't feel the way you were feeling. But you actually weren't enjoying seeing your best friend wrestling with the man you loved. Coming closer to the ring, you placed yourself by your father's side, who were telling you that he was sorry the whole time since that night.

Even if you wanted to see the fight, some bitches behind you were making improper comments about the older, that they were making boil your blood. You had to count till thirteen, knowing that they weren't about to stop and that you had so much shit contained on your chest. Everything happened faster than you can remember today. Turning around, your right fist went straight to the nose of the one who was laughing, feeling some creaks under your knuckles before the blood began to stain your skin. You were grabbing her by her dress with the other fingers. Hitting her once and again, until your father held you away and the combat inside the ring was overshadowed for your own one. Hearing Riz's voice claiming for your attention and cupping your chin on a bloody big hand, you came back to reality barely breathing. Watching the girl crying and complaining lying down on the floor and everyone around you looking at you in holy silence, you reacted. Pushing away both men and with a strong pain shaking your right knuckles, you ran away from there. Not because of the retaliations, but because you were ashamed like never before. Probably you pushed Riz into that girl. That's what they do. They talk shit about a man, then play the victim card and get a ride. After that, they can say proudly they fucked a Mayan, which gives them some kind of respect that you don't understand.

It cost you too much to drive your bike back to the ranch, knowing that you were fucked if you tried to press the brake. But even so, you speeded up when you found Riz following you through the road. He was the last one you wanted to see at that point of your life. For a moment you felt like a fugitive, throwing your bike to the ground in front of the porch, and running into it trying to find the keys to open the door. And when you finally got them, your shaky and afflicted fingers let them fall over the wooden floor. It was too late to continue avoiding him, turning you around by a hand on your forearm, unlocking you between the red walls and his body. He seemed furious, breathing angrily and frowning. And you were shivering under him.

“What the fuck are you doin'?”

“Lemme' go, Ariza. Or I will punch you too”.

“Not till you tell me what the hell is wrong with you?” Gulping, you put your gaze away about to cry. “One month without seeing you, without nothing shit 'bout you. And from nowhere, you came back and started a fight, because of what? Ah?”

You don't reply, making him nod in silence for a second.

“You're a fuckin' child”. He just said before pulling away himself.

And that was the lit that made you burn again.

“I'm not a fucking child!” You yelled at the man, pushing his back once and again with both hands, without caring about the pain in the right. “This is your fucking fault!”

“My fault?! Oh, good God, give me patience…” He laughs bitterly turning at you. “I didn't do a shit, what the fuck are you talking 'bout now, (Y/N)”.

“That's the problem! You don't do a shit! You don't feel a shit! Nothing!”

“Seriously, the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I'm in love with you, puto pendejo!”

You couldn't believe that you finally said it. Shocking him, who couldn't believe it either. Twisting his neck like a confused dog, he took a step away. You were already crying, grabbing your keys from the floor about to open the door, but he stopped you again.

“Was that… why you weren' coming to the club, or because you weren' answering my calls? Because you're in love with me?”. He asked taking you off the keys and keeping them in a pocket of his kutte. “That shit will pass in… I don' know, some months, but that's no—”.

“That shit, how you called it, it's been inside me for the last five years”. You sobbed, feeling more fucked than never, pointing your chest. “I was trying to show you… that I'm not a fucking child… I started to work while finishing college. I… I… wanted to tell you but… Fuck, it doesn't matter”.

Cleaning your tears, you let your back run down the wall until sitting, curling your legs and surrounding them with both arms. Your cry got louder, pressing your palms against your eyes, hoping he just left you there. Alone. But he didn't, squatting next to you and trying to hold your wrists.

“Fuckin' leave me, Riz…” You begged shaking your arms, even if you knew that a simple touch from him could make you fall again.

“Let me take care of your hand, okay…? Then, I will leave, if it is what you want”.

“I want you to leave now. I can… take care of my own wounds”.

The man nodded with pursed lips, giving you back your keys before getting up, and walking towards his motorbike. But he confused you when you saw him taking off his gun behind the kutte. And when he shot both tires, jumping away before the bike fell down losing its balance. Standing up on the porch, you raised both eyebrows freaking out.

“Do you want me to break my phone, to use yours to call the crane?”

Swallowing, you shook your head in silence.

“Good, 'cause it's gonna cost me about three hundred bucks. The fucking things I do for love…” He muttered that last sentence, but you could hear it.

“You what?” You asked, cleaning your tears with your shirt, seeing him coming back.

“Open the door”.

“What you said, Riz?”

“I fuckin' love you too. You're smart, kind, caring, lovely… fucking… breathtaking. I don' even know if… that's a fucking word. But the point is that your father is my best friend, my br—”.

“He already knows it”.

“Sorry, what…?”

“But he just said that… if I talked to you about my feelings, you were gonna laugh”.

“Nah, I'm gonna get his daughter and make him regret any shit he told you, making you feel like a shit”.

That made you chuckle, before letting him hug you with both arms, kissing your forehead.

“Okay, miss independence, will you lemme take care of your hand?” You nod before offering him the keys back. “I will need you to practice your studies too”.

“Yeah, you just wan' me because I'll be a doctor…”

“I forgot to say that part”. He laughed, finally opening the main door.

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[nana-n-nono]

Starborn

cw: mentions of death, mild injury, fire, lmk what else

SBB says: This thing is gigantic and got completely out of hand (at a word count of 7726 oh my god) but I hope you like it anyways and find some interesting lore points! Please do yell at me in the ask box! I'll try to have Jeno's up in less time but honestly it probably won't come out until end of August just before the event ends anyways lol.

They say in Soladium that being born is as instantaneous and explosive as a supernova. Jaemin always thought that was a bit odd, considering supernovas only occur when stars die. There's never an explanation either, when he asks. It's always, you'll understand when you're older.

According to the history books, the kingdom of Soladium was birthed the same way. It appeared entirely overnight. One day there was barren land under twin suns that were far too hot for life, the next a single sun and a brilliant realm built of white gold and molten lava. People questioned of course. Where did the second sun go? How did they do this? The first king answered none of these, instead going forth to conquer surrounding realms with swift and deadly force. These realms were by no means small either, the ancient lands of Tonitrua and Beongae being some of the lands razed. Soladium was fearfully hailed as a kingdom built in a single lunar cycle and as an empire built nearly as fast.

Now, those days seem like only stories, exaggerations from history. Memory is imperfect in that way. But Jaemin, and really every royal of Soladium, knows they're real. Knows that Soladium on the surface may seem like a cheerful, festive kingdom built on the foundations of honesty and sincerity, but that it lives on a foundation of bloodshed and deceit. It's hard to reconcile at times. You would look at someone like Jaemin and think, how can he be lethal?

True, Jaemin does not look particularly deadly. He's tall but he's not broad like his brother, nor does he seem clever like his sister. Often people will whisper that Jaemin was raised as a carefree child and that his parents spoiled him despite his status as the second prince, the second heir to the throne. Jaemin's inclined to agree with them to some degree, he was spoiled and he is carefree. But like everything in Soladium, that which is bright is built on something dark. And he is no exception to that rule.

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Concentrate. Feel the heat around you. Feel it rise, heat always rises. Feel the intensity, that life breathes into—

"Your highness?"

Jaemin's head snaps up, a pure deer in the headlights look on his face as he's startled out of his training. The messenger sighs to themselves, fondly of course. It's well know that the second prince will get wrapped up in anything, and that he needs to be reminded of his other duties. But no one has the heart to tell him to stop, not when he looks so excited when he succeeds. Not when he looks so absorbed, eyes locked into whatever he’s studying when he’s concentrating. Jaemin clears his throat. “Yes?”

“I apologize for the disturbance, but your mother is requesting your presence in the courtyard.” The messenger sweeps into a bow and then straightens up, opening the door. Ah, so then it’s an immediate summons. The prince sighs, getting up and dusting off his trousers. Casual wear for the day, stuff he can run in since he had morning training with the weapons master. He nods to the messenger to lead the way, following closely behind. What could mother be summoning him for?

Even before entering the courtyard, Jaemin could sense his mother. Not through heat sensing, though he could do a bit of that as well, but rather through sheer presence. The queen was a formidable woman, even by Petramus standards. Tall, regal with a hard set jaw and narrow eyes. She was terrifying, at first glance. But underneath all that was a woman who based her strength in kindness, someone who was never afraid to stand up for justice and happiness. She didn’t back down on anything, didn’t back down from anyone. Though Soladium was a patriarchal society, the queen stood on equal ground as her beloved the king, and Jaemin admired that so.

The ideal behind marrying a Petramus princess to a Soladium prince was to form political alliances, of course, but also to try and instill a new set of values in the children of their union. Soladium’s undying determination and pride, Petramus’s stone cold analytics and cleverness. But it seemed there was still some way to go, with the first prince falling more into Soladium’s habits while the first princess fell into Petramus. Jaemin, it seemed, sort of fell into neither. An oddball.

As soon as Jaemin steps into the courtyard, the quiet chattering ceases and the queen turns with a beautiful smile. "My baby," she coos, reaching her arms out from where she sat. Jaemin immediately steps into her embrace, pressing a kiss to her temple as she does to his.

“Mother.” The queen gestures to her side to the empty space reserved for him. The bench is quite small, especially considering the size of the queen’s skirts that flare out but Jaemin still manages to sit down without accidentally sitting on the silken fabrics. “What is it?”

“My baby,” she repeats, but it’s different. A touch sadder. Jaemin leans into her touch when she cups his face with one hand, thumb caressing his cheekbone. "Oh, my precious Jaemin-ah."

He stays quiet, unsure what to say. What to ask. There have been few times in his life that his mother has taken this tone. When his grandfather died. When he was so ill they thought he may not survive. This tone is always accompanied by the pain of loss, potential or real.

"As you know," she starts softly, "You'll be fifteen soon." Between when he sat and when she began speaking, all the servants had stepped away to the edge of the courtyard, leaving only the two of them. Jaemin nods. Of course he knows, it's his own birthday for one but for two it's his Blessed day, so the entire court has been preparing for this. His birthday is happening in only a few days, but the planning for festivities has been so much longer. Months of color design, decor placement, outfit tailoring, inviting foreign royals. Of course Jaemin knows.

He also knows that Blesseddays are special. They're secretive and sacred but after a Blessed day, people change. They grow into themselves, whatever that mean for them. For Jaemin's older brother that meant becoming more confident and bold, bordering brutally honest with every passing day. Jaemin's older sister embraced her innovative spirit, devoting all her time to strategy and intelligence. That wasn't to say they weren't those things before their Blessed days, but after... It was like they'd been shocked into realizing their life purpose or something. It was, frankly, a bit terrifying for a young Jaemin. And just a bit lonely, though he'd never admit that.

Jaemin doesn't know what any of that has to do with the queen calling him today though. The way it works is that three days before the day of celebration, the person in question (Jaemin in this case) is brought somewhere (of course he doesn't know where yet) by the last person in the immediate family who had their Blessed days (Jaemin's sister in this case). Then they undergo some kind of ritual for the three days and emerge on their birthday to undergo a more public ritual. The public one is more for appearances than anything else, but it's an important ending to the whole process. The only part the queen needs to play is in the public ritual so... What's the whole point of this?

She doesn't say anything for a while, for a time that seems to stretch on and on though it's likely no more than a few minutes. Jaemin has his father's eyes but his mother's smile. A smile, no matter how small, is always the warmest thing in a room. A smile that embodies Soladium, as he's been told again and again. He offers this smile to her now, as reassuring as he can.

"I just wanted to see you," she says finally. Some part of Jaemin is confused and maybe a little disappointed. This seemed like something so serious and yet...? But he just smiles wider and tilts his head in her touch, childlike despite no longer being a child. Young, but not a child. That just seems to make her sadder, though she still smiles and boops his nose with her free hand like she did when he was a toddler. "You'll always be my baby, okay? No matter what, you'll always be my baby."

Jaemin really doesn't get it, maybe this is a nostalgia for him growing up? Still, he nods and replies, "Yes mother."

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Jaemin is awoken just as the sun begins to peak out from over the mountain tops. The break of dawn, three days before his birthday as promised. His sister, dressed in white robes with simple gold trimming herds him out of his room, ushering him into a bath first before dragging him down the hall, down the stairs, down down down. Jaemin has never been this far down. Jaemin hasn't seen another living soul since he woke up either, not in the bath, not in the halls. No knights, servants, gardeners... no one. His skin prickles at the loss of heat.

He's dressed in grandeur unlike his sister. A white shirt of satin, hand sewn with thread that is so fine and delicate it looks more like it was woven into the shirt rather than sewn in. Gems embellish the hems on the sleeves, the bottom of the shirt, the collar. And then simple slim fit trousers, in the same fashion except with some extra curling embroidery creeping up his legs. For once, he looks every bit the prince he's meant to be. And yet he feels so vulnerable, the satin unusually light and thin.

"Jaemin." His sister stops at the base of the stairs. How long have they been walking while he got caught up in his thoughts? A long ways down if the endlessly spiraling stairs above him have anything to say. It's entirely pitch black down here too, not a single light in sight. Jaemin only knows to turn to his sister by sound, by instinct. By...

Oh.

He inhales sharply. When he was first introduced to the idea of heat signatures, Jaemin was confused. Which was unusual, because nearly every living person in Soladium can pick up on heat signatures one way or another. But Jaemin had no idea what they were talking about. He was a rare case, someone who could not innately tell where heat was coming from. So they trained him from the beginning, and now he's made enough progress that if he concentrates, he can pick up strong heat signatures. But only strong ones. His sister's is not very strong, but what she's standing next to...

It's blinding. It's so, so very bright and Jaemin wants to take a step back. Something they teach you about sensing heat is to avoid things that are too hot. Most things will not fall in that range. Certainly not humans, at their internal 37°C count. Not even boiling water at 100°C. The limits alter per person but the general consensus is to cap out around 300°C. Some of the more talented individual can push it to 500°C. But this... Jaemin feels like his skin is melting, his throat is closing up, his eyes--

"Jaemin," his sister says softly. And just like that, he's back in darkness, gasping as he collapses onto the cool stone floor. For a few minutes, there's just the sound of Jaemin's wheezing. Deep breath in, hold, breathe out. Do it again.

"I won't be going any further with you. For the next three days, you'll be here alone. This place has everything you need, food, clothes, water, baths. Anytime during those days, you need to confront it. It doesn't need to be now, and it doesn't need to be in the last hour. But you must. If you don't..." She sounds so far away, echoing softer and softer. Jaemin wants to call to her, but he can't. He still can't breathe. Everything is unsteady. It's too dark, completely and utterly dark, and yet he still feels light fading around the edges of his non-existent vision. "Be brave Jaemin." A pause, so short it might not be a pause at all really. And then infinitely softer, so soft that he can barely catch it. "Until last light."

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When his eyes open again, Jaemin is 100% sure he's awake and yet it doesn't feel like it at all. Right. All consuming darkness. How Jaemin didn't break his neck walking down somehow eludes him, he's always been clumsy. He slowly gets up, but his body isn't stiff as expected. The stone beneath him is hard and cold, and yet he feels like he's just slept on the softest, warmest bed in the whole world. He rubs his eyes to try get some sensation out of them, but. It's just dark. If he strains his eyes to see then it'll definitely hurt him later. So instead he closes them, to try and trick his brain a little.

He doesn't really want to stand with how his legs gave out earlier... Earlier? How long has it been since his sister brought him down? God he doesn't know at all. He's not hungry though, so maybe it hasn't been that long. He stretches his legs, wiggling his toes and by the feeling of it, he might be okay to stand in a few minutes. But for now he just keeps stretching, slowly but surely waking up every part of his body.

After he feels enough blood in his limbs, he stands and though he wobbles a bit, he's stable enough to not fall over. He'll take that win. He doesn't recall at all what this area even looks like, so he just takes a step in a direction. There's faint heat signatures around, but most of them are near muted completely. Not entirely bizarre since Jaemin doesn't have a good track record of heat tracking anyways, but definitely inconvenient. He wants to squint but-- oh wait. His eyes are closed. After a momentary battle of what to do, he settles for scrunching up his nose and stepping towards a cluster of signatures, small ones. When he feels around them, he thinks ah okay, so this is food. It's simple stuff really, bread rolls, some fruits, a block of cheese. Probably? It feels like that anyways.

To its left are something that feels definitely like clothes, though he has no idea what kind. They’re soft though, so it probably doesn’t really matter. Who’s going to see him anyways in all this?

Somewhere further left is a kind of hallway that Jaemin finds by feeling along the walls. There at the end, the heat signature rises to a more normal view. A hot spring maybe? It’s close to that if it’s not. A slight misstep confirms it though, and Jaemin, disgruntled, hauls himself out sopping wet.

After changing into some dry clothes, he finishes cataloging (which isn't much, just a lot of soaps and an actual bed) and then sits on the floor to just... Ponder. His sister said he needed to face it, but what is it? His own weaknesses? And then there was that bright light. He's fairly certain that it had to be a hallucination or something. After all, if he saw it after being in the dark for so long, wouldn't he go blind? Or... Is he blind? No way... Except there's no way to tell because even with his eyes open, the darkness is as thick as ever. Fear sinks into his blood, cold as ice. But he shakes his head, it can't be. It can't be.

He stretches himself out on the bed, apprehension still crawling on his skin when he settles. There's a lot to consider here. So, Jaemin thinks, let's take it step by step.

First: Jaemin must complete some kind of task during these three days. His sister mentioned it doesn't matter when, only that he do it. Caveat? He has no idea how time is passing here.

Second: There are faint heat signatures all around but they're muted, even the hot spring that should be very bright. Could the mysterious light have something to do with that?

Third: What happens if he doesn't complete the task?

Third: What happens if

Third: What

Jaemin blinks, suddenly dizzy in his attempt to sit up. It's as though the bed is pulling him down, coaxing him to rest his head and close his eyes and let go of this thoughts. Oh, he thinks as he sinks back down. Maybe it's been a day already. Maybe it's night now. There's no reason for him to be sleepy though, he thinks even as he yawns. After all, doesn't that mean he was asleep on the floor longer than expected...?

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"Jaemin-ah!"

He turns, blinking. It's not dark anymore. Not at all. In fact it's very bright, so much so that Jaemin should be squinting against the shine. And yet he isn't, instead slowly twisting around with a growing smile. He knows that voice anywhere.

"Jeno!" And there in full view is Lunaste's only prince, eyes crinkled in their usual moon crescents. Jeno looks good as always, wearing a tighter fitting formal shirt tucked into newly tailored dark pants. On his ears sparkle the mark of an heir, small gem from Lunaste's mines. They're a shimmering dark blue, not unlike the night sky before the sun fully sets down. Jaemin half runs over to hug his best friend, reveling in the clean and cool feeling that Jeno always gives off.

"What, did you miss me that much?" Jeno laughs, squeezing Jaemin just as tightly. "C'mon, let's go sit. It's been ages since I last saw you."

Jaemin genuinely has no idea where they are but Jeno seems to know it well, so the younger boy just follows behind with a spring in his step. They don't walk long, just enough that Jaemin gets a bit whiny to Jeno's endless amusement. "Jenooooooo--"

"Shush you big baby, we're almost there." Jaemin's pout does nothing but make Jeno smile wider, tugging them both along until they're suddenly in some kind of clearing. A huge meadow? Jaemin's never seen it before, in either Soladium or Lunaste. But he just accepts it, trusting Jeno. The older boy takes them to a patch of grass that's mostly clear of flowers, laying down first and gesturing for Jaemin to join. It's nice out here, a light breeze ruffling the grass and the suns not too bright. Wait. The suns?

"Jaemin-ah." Jeno's voice sounds so far away. Jaemin looks to his side, and yet there's no one there. He sits up, looking around but Jeno's no where to be found. The meadow is still there though... As is a plume of smoke, slowly encircling the edges of the horizon. "Jaemin!" The boy scrambles to his feet, heart racing as he hears his best friend yell. "Jaemin!!"

"Jeno?" Jaemin yells back, eyes widening in horror at the smoke approaches. And where there's smoke, there's fire. The meadow's burning up. And Jeno... Is nowhere to be found.

"Jaemin you have to run!" Jeno's voice sounds more strangled, like he can't breathe. Did he get caught somewhere?

"Jeno! Jeno where are you!" Jaemin coughs as the smoke starts to crowd where he is, ash falling onto his skin and burning him just like real fire. There's no where to go though. Even as Jaemin turns, he's confronted with more smoke, more fire. "Jeno!"

"Jaemin you--" The rest cuts out, the flames roaring too loudly. Jaemin swallows dryly, crouching down to the floor. What can he do? He's going to be completely surrounded soon. There's no where to go--

"JUMP!!"

Jaemin's eyes snap open at the feeling of a hand on his elbow hauling him up. Jeno??? He's scuffed up, scratches and blooming bruises across his cheek and on his hands. Jaemin hesitates, mind racing too fast to comprehend but Jeno whips around with his eyes blazing. "Jaemin trust me. You have to jump." Jump where? The solar prince looks down and oh. There's a hole, about two times his width. It seems to go straight down, just down down down endlessly. Jaemin's logical brain doesn't understand, but his instincts do. And his gut trusts Jeno.

So he jumps.

Down

down

down.

Jaemin gasps, hands clenched tight in the sheets as his eyes fly open. Where is he? Why is it dark? Is he underground, is this--

His voice is barely above a whisper. "Jeno?"

Silence stretches endlessly, swallowing his soft call.

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Jaemin doesn't really dream. Or at least he never remembers his dreams, so this is really unusual and quite frankly very unpleasant. He'd taken a long bath right after waking up, wincing at the sensation of hot on his skin but settling in after anyways. He's awake now, definitely.

The dream... Well, maybe nightmare would be more appropriate. Jaemin shudders thinking about how vivid it was, how he still feels his throat closing up at the vague thought of ash. Soladium residents have some heat resistance, sure, but that sensation was... Like being surrounded by...

The sun.

Jaemin blinks, understanding slowly coming through. The sun! But wait... Wasn't that just a legend? Two suns? One shot down--

No. It was never fully explained what happened to it. Jaemin just assumed it was shot down as part of the story, but in fact... What if it wasn't?

This is crazy. Jaemin, you're nuts. You're losing it. And yet in his heart he knows he's right. Something about this ritual has to do with the sun. The second one that vanished without a trace the day that Soladium was established.

You need to confront it. It. Not yourself, not them, but it. A non-human entity.

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Jaemin spends the rest of the day not thinking. Honestly his head hurts, waking up with a hammering heart and a confused brain was not been a great way to start the day. And then all that thinking immediately after in the bath... Yeah, Jaemin's calling it for day 2. He still has at least 24 more hours in day three. And then... Does he technically have part of his birthday? Maybe?

He spends the day nibbling on apples and cheese and crackers. Another thing, the food is always prepared in easily eaten bites. Apples are sliced, sometimes peeled. The cheese is always cubed. Weird. Magic isn't really prevalent in Soladium, not really. The only thing really would be their heat control. Even the heat sensing doesn't seem that magical, more a byproduct of adaptation to the landscape. But there's definitely something magical about this whole thing. It's a bit unsettling.

Like the previous night, Jaemin starts to feel the pull of bed at some point, probably around the peak of the lunar cycle. He yawns as he settles down, curling up on his side and falling asleep.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It smells like earth. Like damp earth. Jaemin doesn't hate it, but he's not the fondest fan either. Rainy days are nice, and he like them just fine, but they're not his favorite. That's just how it is. But he likes them when he can be with Jeno, then it's fun. Running around with Jeno chasing him is fun. Spending the day inside talking over snacks is fun. Finding new hiding places and cozying up is fun.

"Jaemin-ah."

"Jeno-yah."

Jeno's always been there. Jeno is reliable, like how the lunar cycle always follows and leads into a solar cycle. They may be princes of different realms, but somehow they're still best friends. Constant letters, excuses to visit. Sometimes the queen dowager of Lunaste will whisper to the reigning queen of Soladium, ah they're kindred souls.

"Jeno, I'm scared." It should feel scary to even admit that and yet it doesn't. It just comes out. Jaemin still has no idea where he is, has no idea where Jeno it. Everything's blurry, like he's looking at it through some thick frosted glass. But Jeno's there, he knows it.

Jeno doesn't ask why. Doesn't say that it's going to be fine. Instead he says, "But are you going to let it stop you?"

Jaemin almost wants to say yes. It's infinitely scary to think that perhaps the thing he has to face is what he thinks it is. But it's infinitely more terrifying to think that if he fails, he might never be able to see the people he loves again. After all, no one knows the cost of failure for the ritual, only that if you fail you don't come back the same. Or at all sometimes.

"No," he says instead. "No, this is something I have to do. To move forward." To be with everyone, with you.

Jeno smiles and Jaemin feels a warm hand over his own. "That's right. It's something you have to do."

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jaemin takes a deep breath. He hasn't tried to heat sense much outside of what's necessary, but even then he's gotten so familiar with the space he doesn't need the sensing to tell him where everything is. But he has a feeling he should try again, maybe it'll show him what's there.

Sitting in the center (or what he thinks is center) of the room, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Concentrate. Feel the heat around you. Feel it rise, heat always rises. Feel the intensity, that life breathes into objects. Take a deep breathe in, do you feel the warmth in the air around you? Stretch your senses out, feel for the things around you. Exhale slowly, do you sense the warmth of your own breath, your own life?

Slowly but surely the heat signatures return, muted as they were before. Jaemin furrows his brow, hands clenched into tight fists that rest over his knees, legs crossed in front. He can feel that prickling on the back of his neck, warm across his back. He peeks open his eyes a little at a time, seeing heat wrap around in wisps. The signatures of the ordinary objects have all but disappeared. The only one left is the one seemingly behind him, emitting curls of heat that flutter around the room before vanishing. It's much too bright to be the bath.

He doesn't turn around immediately, he'd be a fool if he did that. "I'm not sure if you can speak, but I..." He pauses, unsure how to say what he wants to. In the end, he settles for a simple, "But I'm ready." Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut again as the light starts to flash, brighter and brighter until the entire room is engulfed in white.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The first thing Jaemin registers is screaming. A mix of voices, adults and children, men and women. Incoherent, though he picks up a few repeated words. Run! Hurry!

He's afraid to open his eyes, but he forces himself to and it's definitely not within the castle. It doesn't even seem to be a dreamscape, with how vivid everything is. Jaemin finds himself in the center of a jostling crowd, everyone seeming to sprint in the same direction. He turns to what they're fleeing from and...

He sees the lion emblem of Soladium. He sees gleaming gold breastplates over white chainmail. He sees a soldier slam his sword into someone who is fleeing, and watches as red stains the pristine silver metal.

Jaemin's going to throw up.

"Nana! Nana what are you doing standing there? You have to run!" What? What the hell, how can this be? It's Jeno, but he's... Younger. A lot younger. Is Jaemin that young too? Only seven, maybe eight? And how can Jeno be here, he's not a resident of Soladium. But wait, is this Soladium? Or...? "NANA!" Jaemin feels himself being yanked along the stream of people.

"Je- Nono, what's going on?" Jaemin can barely keep on his feet, tripping over himself often. Jeno's hand pulling is the only thing keeping him upright. "Nono, wha--"

"There's no time, we need to get out of--" There's a fuzzy sound, not unlike TV static.

"What??? Out of where? Where are we??" Jeno's younger look alike looks at Jaemin like he's crazy. He repeats the word, but again it's just static. Jaemin's really losing it. Jeno twists down an alley, escaping from the crowd but still moving. It's a little like going down the stairs with his sister, Jeno just keeps taking him down and down and down. At some point they enter some kind of tunnel, barely big enough for them. Jaemin has to crouch a little as he walks.

It's dark.

"Nono?" Jaemin can still feel his touch on his wrist, but he can't see him and Jeno doesn't answer. After what seems to be hours but could be minutes, they stop.

"Nana." The voice speaking is soft, a blend of an older sounding man and a young boy. "Nana, I'm gonna go ahead okay? Wait for me here?"

"Y-yeah," Jaemin-- Nana-- says quietly. "Come back soon?"

"Always."

And then Jaemin is alone.

For minutes. Then hours. Maybe a day has passed. He doesn't know, he hasn't moved. A voice inside whispers ever so faintly, maybe he won't come back. But Jaemin believes in his best friend, or this person who looks like his best friend. So he waits.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

"Jaemin?" He blinks, yawning. When did he fall asleep? Is he still in the tunnel? He can't be, it's too light out. The air is too fresh. Jaemin snaps awake, scrambling up. He nearly headbutts the person above him, who rears back just in time to avoid breaking their nose. "Jesus!"

"Wh-- Where am I? What time is it?" Jaemin tries to calm himself down, taking stock of what's around him. It's some sort of courtyard like area, but there are people everywhere. In the same clothes. Yellow blazer coats and black pants, white button up shirts. A uniform?

"You're at school and it's twelve thirty." Jaemin snaps his head to the side to look at Jeno, who's rubbing his nose lightly. "Damn, I think you actually nicked me a little with that iron head of yours."

"Jen?"

"Huh?" Jeno stops touching his face and Jaemin almost wants to cry at the sight of his best friend. Jeno from Lunaste has near perfect pale skin, his mole stark against it. Jeno-- Nono-- from wherever had the youthful tan of carefree boy. This Jeno looks just like he'd expect a teenager to, skin a bit pocket marked from acne scars, uneven redness all over, more freckles and moles. But it's Jeno, it's definitely Jeno. Jaemin really is going to start crying. “Jaem what’s wrong?”

Shit is he crying? Like for real? Ugh, gods that’s embarrassing. He shakes his head, pressing his sleeves to his eyes and heaving a breath. “It’s nothing Jen,” he mumbles. At least it’s just light sniffles and not full blown sobbing. That would be hard to justify. “Just tired and yknow how it is.” Why’s he talking like this? Maybe it’s just a tic of this Jaemin.

“Ah.” Sweet, understanding Jeno, who never questions when he doesn’t need to. “Yeah that assignment was pretty rough, I was going to strangle Hyunseok when he almost deleted our files. Here.” Oh a handkerchief. It’s just like Jeno to be a little old fashioned like that. Jaemin takes another minute to collect himself, stuffing the cloth into his pocket.

For a minute it’s just quiet and peaceful. A light breeze drifts across, ruffling the grass and just barely shifting Jaemin’s bangs. This is nice, yeah. Jaemin leans back on his palms and tilts his head up. It’s warm.

“So Jaem, I was asking about Friday? Cause I know you said you had student council stuff—” does he? “and you know how caught up you get when Donghyuck slacks off.”

Jaemin doesn’t even have to think about it for a second. “I’ll make time for you.” He always will. But of course he can’t say that part here, this isn’t his Jeno even if the beaming, crescent eyed smile he gets looks so familiar.

“You’re the best Jaem!” Jeno grabs a bag and slings it over his shoulder, offering a hand out to Jaemin. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin says with a smile so genuine it hurts his cheeks. “Of course Jen, always.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

How much more must he go through? Somehow it feels a little like he’s been through countless iterations, countless universes. Him as a gangster, Jeno as the innocent bystander. Jeno as a celebrity, him as a devoted fan. Sometimes it’s Jaemin who is cruel and heartless, sometimes it’s Jeno who’s broken and hurting. And yet always the same, Jaemin and Jeno, Jeno and Jaemin. Tied together, always faithful to the other. Not once does Jaemin regrets getting shot at, getting strangled, getting screamed at if it means he can protect Jeno. He never regrets stealing or lying or smashing things if it mean staying with his best friend. Always, he thinks as he fades out of yet another life. I will always be there for you.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“Sir.” Jaemin turns to see a squire, stiff in their naivety. “King Jeno has requested your presence.” The mere words send shivers throughout his skin, but he nods and dismisses the boy before spinning on his heel.

King Jeno is every bit as regal as Jaemin knew he would be. Midnight black hair coiffed just so under his crown of silver and white gold, dark sapphires embedded as accents. His expression is cold, something Jaemin himself has only seen once in his fifteen years. Somehow he suspects this version of himself has seen it far more often. Jeno looks almost bored, but his voice simmers with anger. “Na Jaemin.” Jaemin swallows but keeps his head bowed where he kneels. He hears a kind of clicking, not loud enough to be shoes but certainly loud enough to be a threat. Jeno’s rings most likely.

“Report.”

Jaemin still doesn’t raise his head as he speaks. In his memories, there are too many blood splatters to ignore. “The Southern Isles have refused to relinquish their control over the pass, they say that… that they won’t unless their demands are met.”

“And what are their demands?” The temperature seems to drop another ten degrees. Jaemin doesn’t want to say it, but he know when Jeno sounds sickly sweet like that… there’s no room for arguments.

“They’ve demanded that their prince be returned to them, no matter what. And that… and that you be removed from power your majesty.” There’s more of course, but those are minor compared to this. Jaemin knows that the Southern prince with caramel skin and a halo of golden curls is alive, but perhaps not for much longer. He prays he’s wrong, but he’s known Jeno for far too long.

For too long there is silence. Jaemin is almost shivering with how tense he’s gotten with every passing second. And then Jeno laughs, a soft chuckle that is so icy, so unlike his own Jeno, that Jaemin almost wants to curl in on himself and scream because it’s wrong. It blows into full, body shaking laughter and Jaemin can’t help flinching when he feels rather than sees or hears Jeno come close. A cold hand tilts his chin up and he meets Jeno’s eyes. Dark, black not brown.

“Is that so,” Jeno says softly. Jaemin doesn’t try anything funny. Jeno’s technically unarmed now, there’s no one else around. Just them. Jaemin could so easily overpower the King if he tried. Jeno isn’t special here, he can’t predict what will happen. And they’ve always been equal in strength. Jaemin could end it all, save the people from war. But he doesn’t. Not that he can’t, he doesn’t. Because this is Jeno, who he chose. “Na Jaemin, what are you?”

“I am your right hand, your majesty. Your shield and your spear to command as you see fit.” A practiced answer that spills as easily as oil over ice.

“Yes, that’s right,” Jeno coos, tapping Jaemin’s cheek. Has Jeno ever been this cold? Physically or otherwise? “You do as I ask.” Jaemin’s heart is hammering so hard he’s surprised Jeno can’t hear it. “And now I ask of you this.” Jeno leans in close, voice a sly whisper. “Kill the prince and send his mangled remains to them. They want to make demands of us? Of me? No. Jaemin-ah, show them who we are.”

Kill. In all the universes, Jaemin has killed before. But this is the first time he’s been asked to by someone he loves. The first time he’s been asked to kill someone he cares about.

Show them who we are. We, Jaemin and Jeno. Jeno and Jaemin.

Jaemin swallows and whispers back, “As you wish, your majesty.” And later, when he’s in the dungeons with a far familiar face glaring at him, spitting insults at him, when he raises his sword high and brings it down with all his force, all he can think is that he promised he would never turn his back on Jeno, no matter what.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s quiet after he plunges the tip into the southern prince’s chest and Jaemin welcomes it. A brief respite between universes, somewhere he can rest. These breaks never last long, some hardly over a minute or two. Jaemin closes his eyes and waits, waits for the next universe to wake him up somehow. But instead he hears a voice, one that echoes like thousands of voices speaking at once.

Have you made your choice?

Jaemin blinks slowly and then stumbles back. Oh, so he’s in a corporeal form for this. Okay. It should be burning hot and blindingly bright, given that he’s staring directly at a sun. Neither sensations occur though and he tentatively steps forward again.

My choice?

The sun rumbles.

Yes. Your choice on your will.

My will?

Yes. That which makes you strong and that which makes you weak.

Oh…

You must decide now. Your will is what you are, but you may choose another way. Be warned child, your will is the strongest and weakest you will ever be. Your other cores may save you from those extremes, but you will never fully involve yourself in your fate. You may end up simply drifting along, always feeling away from yourself.

I don’t want that.

Most do not. However it is an option.

Can I… Can I ask a question?

Of course child.

Why was it always Jeno?

I cannot answer that.

What? Why?

It is simply not my place to do so. I can only answer questions about you.

Was it something I chose?

Yes. In a way.

…

In the last one. Why didn’t I stop him? Would I… would I do that in real life?

That I cannot tell you. I can only show you what could be, given the strength of your will.

What is my will?

Do you not know? Hm... A pause, as if the entity is pondering how best to answer this. You, Na Jaemin, third child of King Na Seomin and Queen Lee Minyoung, are destined to be the strongest ally. Your loyalty knows no bounds. Once you have chosen a person or a cause to dedicate yourself to, you will do so endlessly. Without question, without fear. Regardless of who you might hurt to achieve the goals they've asked of you. Regardless of what might be taken away. You will do what is asked, if that person is who you've chosen. That is your will.

That doesn't sound very good...

A will is neither good nor bad. It is, like everything, something that is altered based on what you choose.

…

It seems you’ve made up your mind.

Yeah. But one more question. Who are you? All of you?

Ahh, but you already know this do you not?

Just checking.

The entity chuckles. Are you ready to make your choice?

“Yeah,” Jaemin says with a smile. “Yeah I am.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“… Min”

Huh?

“Jae… min…”

Oh that’s his name.

“JAEMIN!”

“Gods above what!” Jaemin snaps as he opens his eyes, annoyance vanishing in an instant at the sight of Jeno’s tear streaked face. Actually, looking around, everyone was in various states of distress. His mother had her hands over her mouth, silent sobs wracking her shoulders as she leaned against his father who was pale but wearing an expression of pained pride. “Wh-why are you all crying??”

Jeno’s face contorts in a way that would be funny if not for the fresh wave of tears dripping down his cheeks. “You were gone for so long, I thought— we thought—”

“Gone?” Jaemin echoes, brows knitting together as he tries to piece it together. It must be his birthday right? The ritual shouldn’t last longer than that.

"You— you were— Gods Jaemin," Jeno hiccups, hands wrapped tightly around Jaemin's in his lap. "You were gone, you were—" Jeno can't finish it, instead sobbing again and releasing Jaemin's hands to pull him into a tight hug. Jaemin automatically raise his arms to wrap around Jeno's shaking shoulders, neck getting uncomfortably wet with tears. Jaemin turns slightly to his parents for clarification.

"You were dead, Jaemin," his mother says in a broken but somehow calm voice. She was just sobbing a second ago, how has she collected herself so quickly?

Dead? He was... dead?

"Your h-heart wasn't beating," Jeno cries, "A-and you weren't breathing and— Jaemin. I thought, we thought—"

Oh.

"What... What day is it?"

"It's the day after your birthday."

After?

No wonder... There's never been someone who didn't complete the ritual after their Blessed day. He... Wow.

"I came in," his sister says with an odd detachment, "on the dawn of your birthday. Like I was supposed to. And you, you were just laying there and gods..." Her voice cracks. "You were just laying there and you were so cold."

"When I saw Jaehee in her ceremony, she was sitting there like she was dead too. But she was warm when I touched her, and she opened her eyes immediately. And I saw— I saw the sun in her eyes so I knew. But you," Jaehyuk swallows. "You just didn't. We tried to look but it really was like you were dead Min, your eyes were so empty."

Jaemin squeezes his best friend tighter, throat closing up. "B-but I, I just accepted it like noona said to?"

"Accepted? Jaemin, I said confront. What do you mean accept?"

"Huh?"

"Jaemin-ah," his father says now. "When you meet the second sun, you should have seen yourself in different scenarios." Jaemin nods, that he did. "And you should have always made the same choices." Again, he nods. "And then the final scenario is the hardest, it's the one where you choose. And then you wake up."

"You, you didn't talk to anyone?"

"What?" No one seems to understand. Not even his father. "You spoke to someone? Do you mean in the final judgement?"

"No! No, I mean... After. After I made—" Jaemin shudders at the memory. "After I chose, I spoke to someone. To it."

"You..." Jaemin's sister was always the clever one in the family. "You spoke to it?"

"To them, yeah."

"THEM??"

"Gods them! Yes!" Jaemin reels back, earning himself a yelp from Jeno who gets tugged along. "Them. The second sun isn't just a sun. It's, it's our ancestors."

"WHAT," Jaehee shrieks, lurching forward as if to grab Jaemin's collar to demand what he knows. Ah, so this is what they meant when they said strongest and weakest. Her thirst for knowledge, her willingness to do anything to get it. How similar it is to his steadfast devotion.

"Stop that!" Jaehyuk hauls her back. "Stop, you're scaring him."

Jaemin's... Not scared. But he doesn't understand. "So none of you have spoken to them?" He's met with three mirrored head shakes. "Wow..."

"So what happened then?" His mother asks, the voice of calm despite how frazzled she looks. Jaemin's never seen her like this, pajamas underneath a coat, hair undone. His heart swells at the sight, at how much she loves him.

"They asked me to make my choice. They uh, they told me what my will was and how it might be... hurtful." And they mentioned something else but that's for Jaemin's ears only.

"That's it?" Ah ever shrewd, his sister.

"Yes."

"Why does it matter," comes a muffled whine. Oh shit, Jeno. Jaemin reels back but is held in place by his best friend. "He's not dead, he passed your stupid test. Isn't that enough?"

Evidently not for everyone but no one seems to want to challenge the Lunaste prince. It makes Jaemin wonder what happened when he was dead.

"We should give Jaemin some time to rest." His mother is the first to collect herself, standing and lightly dusting off her skirts. His father is quick to follow, always one to support his wife. "Jaemin-ah, although it's late, happy Blessed day." Jaemin hears the proud, unspoken happy birthday my baby.

Jeno stays behind though, unwilling to let his best friend out of sight. Jaemin understands it, he would be the same. For a while it's just quiet, Jeno clutching onto Jaemin and trying really hard, it seems, to not cry again. And it's like at that sight, Jaemin loses all his strength and pitches forward, pressing his face into Jeno's neck and mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Jen, I'm so so so sorry."

Jeno just pulls him in closer and buries his own face into Jaemin's neck. Jaemin will pretend that they're not both shaking, even though there's no one to pretend to. Cause it's Jeno.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," Jeno whispers fiercely, voice thicker and more ragged than usual. "Na Jaemin I swear I will pull you back just to kill you myself."

Jaemin laughs at that, shaking his head. "I won't. I'll never leave you Jen."

"Don't promise things you can't keep," Jeno sighs back. But Jaemin knows, feels it hot in his chest, that this is one promise he's never going to break. Not even on his life.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Notes:

- A lunar cycle is just one night. The only special time terms are solar cycle/lunar cycle instead of day/night. If it's a week, it's still called a week.

- While this event states that Jaemin/Jeno have only recently discovered they are princes, this blurb is slightly separated from that. This blurb is set in the full AU but is twisted slightly to fit the bot, thus both Jaemin and Jeno have been princes from birth. So just, don't think about it too hard?

- Inspiration: Stars are born from nebulas in which the gas and stardust in the nebulous cloud begins to collapse in on themselves from the gravitational pull. Stardust is from the death of other stars. This got a little out of hand but those various scenarios Jaemin goes through are like his own lives and deaths, so when he dies in them or when he kills in them, they "piece" together to form his will which is his strongest trait. Jaemin's a unique case where he always chose the same thing. Often people will kind of alternate their choices and whatever is strongest/gets picked the most often becomes their will.

- In the final dream sequence, Nana is Jaemin's ancestor. Naming conventions differ in the past, children would receive a nickname (Nana) and then once they became adults they would receive their formal name (Jaeyoon). In Jaemin's current timeline, you receive the name you live with when you're born. So when Jaemin was born, he was named Na Jaemin and that's just it. I can explain it more if it's confusing. Really I just wanted an excuse to make a Nana and a Jaem compared to Jaemin, yknow?

- The final dream sequence serves as the final judgement by the second sun. It weighs more heavily than others with higher emotional stakes. The reason why people lean into their attributes so heavily is because of this last scenario. In their minds, they have already played through everything that could be and will not deviate from their choices. Thus people of Soladium are considered rigid and stubborn.

- The second sun doesn't always choose to enhance positive attributes. Though Jaemin and his siblings received (in order) loyalty, cleverness and determination, others in Soladium history have received things like ruthlessness, deception and fear. Generally speaking, what attribute is chosen is what the individual's core value is, and has a lot to do with nature vs nurture.

- Don't @ me about plot holes lmao

[soldierallen]

Married. 13

Tagged @hiddlestonstansworld @lovely-geek @imcalledflorence @misz-adrii @escapistdreamer-wishfulthinker @someplxce @cuddlesforlashton @coffeebooksandfandomsohmy @weasley16 @ilovethewayyourheartbeats @vogueworthy-barnes @xeniarocks @thisismysecrethappyplace @racheo91 @gravedollie666 @inlovewith3 @supernaturaldean67 // if anyone wants to be untagged or tagged please leave a message ty♡ also I do not own any gifs or images of any kind.

Part 12:

Appearances; Alexandra Daddario, Chris Evans, Chase Crawford, Sebastian Stan.

Warnings: sexual themes, a bit smutty, fluff, blood? Idk if that’s a warning

Note: I’ lost the password to this account I lost my god damn mind and I gave up on my favorite story, the one that I’ve been wanting to tell this whole time the second to last chapter starts now❤️

Sebastian Stan x Reader

/

Christmas had passed so did new years, y/n's job was fantastic she was having the time of her life traveling across the country for interviews and really putting herself out there being a director for the paper it was amazing, oh wait you're wondering what happened to Alex and y/n?... oh right that part...

That night.

"I didn't mean to hit you in the face it was by mistake" Alex yelled, sebastian pulled y/n throughout the house to get her into the kitchen she slowly lifted herself up onto the counter whilst he looked at her nose blood gushing may I add droplets falling into the floor

"Alex what the fuck do you want?" Sebastian opened his freezer looking for something to ice her nose that was bleeding harshly, y/n's head tilted back slightly

"I wanted to talk to you, But she’s always here she’ll always take up your time that letter you wrote that wasn’t for me it was for her you lied to me... you never loved me it was all fake" she was crushed, both Sebastian and y/n rolled their eyes not believing her bullshit, but also y/n thought... what letter?

"how's this, how dare you think that it's okay to barge into someone's house uninvited and unwelcomed hit someone in the face with a door that LIVES here, oh should I also mentioned how you got her fired, broke her mentally and almost made me lose my relationship with her because of some "agreement" with money, Alex we talked about all of this and it never once came CLOSE to you apologzing to her, I never wanna see you again" he handed y/n a small bag of icey broccoli she laughed at the bag and put it on her nose extremely dizzy

"if that's what you want seb, i- I thought we meant more than that" she swallowed "I'll walk myself out", and with that she left

"That was first time I ever heard you defend me from her" her eyes got watery

“I’m sorry I never did, I’m never I never thought about your feelings or even thought about how you felt or what you was going through seeing you with Henry was enough for me to know that I wanted you she wasn’t the one who helped me all these years it’s always been you.." he kissed her head gently as she came off of the counter

"Seb, I love you" her heart stopped in her chest, and sebastian’s heart starting beating so loud I think the neighbors next door were able to hear it, he put his hands in his pocket.. He was spechless not able to configure words

"I didn't expect me to say those words with a broken nose a bloody floor and as your roommate... sebastian stan I love you and if you don’t love me that’s fine I’ll move out I’ll move to Alaska an-" he pulled her body closer to his, his hands leaving his pockets wrapping around her waist as he kissed her his other hand around her neck thumb caressing her cheek she was in awe, he pulled his lips away and her forehead touched his "I'm madly in love with you doll I want this to work let's make this work"

And after that night they went on their first date which was an absolute disaster from start to finish, starting off with y/n’s dress getting soaked from a pitcher of water spilling on her, Sebastian tripping over nothing and taking a bad tumble, to right before they got home the car breaking down it was just a mess.

It's been three months, everyone is friends again I mean y/n and Henry aren't too friendly but they talk when there in the same room together. Tonight should feel no different and it isn't but what y/n doesn't know is that sebastian's hiding something.

Pretty important might I add.

"I'm going to work extremely early tomorrow so I'll be home at like 6pm okay?" She was standing behind the couch as Sebastian was sitting he put both of his arms out behind him he brought her body closer to the back of the couch and himself they kissed upside down "I love you" her heart fluttered at his words "I love you too" he touched his sweatpants pocket and slowly stopped she went in her room closing the door and he groaned loudly into the pillow putting his hand in his pocket pulling out a velvety red box

"Just do it? What’s wrong with you" he looked at the engagement ring box he heard her bedroom door open again QUICKLY shoving it back in his pocket, "hey seb can you come to my bedroom” she yelled out from the other side of the door, he slowly walked to her door, when he pressed on the door revealing her room candles lit, she was sat on the edge of the bed dressed in a silk robe, a bra and panties he flirtatiously smirked at the sight of her "what do I owe the pleasure.." he asked pushing up the sleeves to his crewneck sweater, "I regretted your offering a few nights ago I told you I wasn't ready yet to start getting intimate like that" he nodded remembering crossing his arms over his chest clenching his jaw, "please forgive me" she untied her silk robe letting it fall to the floor seductively his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her for the first time he was mesmerized by the shape of her body it didn't matter to him what she looked like the curves of her body or her petite figure he didn't care, she was his and he loved her.

"you're forgiven" we're the only words he could let out, he wanted to know every wrinkle, every freckle, every beauty mark, on her body he wanted to be a genius of the anatomy of her body, he got closer his hands finally finding her skin chills circulated all over her body as he got right behind her kissing her neck one arm creeping to her stomach her back pressed up against his front she felt the heat between her legs light a fire

as he gently unclasped her bra taking the shoulders down sensually his lips connecting once again with the skin between her neck and shoulder loving the feeling she reached over behind her touching him through his pants he felt a little hard which turned her on even more, the hand that was on her stomach slowly inching closer and closer toward her heat, she loved this teasing she just knew she would miss work tomorrow, "tell me if I should stop" he whispered so low she barely heard what he said, his hand found her heat rubbing circles teasing her so badly her body pressed up against his she stopped him turning around ripping his shirt off his body revealing his magnificent body his chain dangling her hands gently reached his waistband of his pants pulling them down as he stepped out of them, "this should be fun" he whispered finally their lips connecting the only thing keeping them apart were the underwear between the both of them, the teasing kept going which made things more interesting when finally they had enough with the foreplay.

"So how was I I haven’t been at it in some time” she said with a smirk he traced her skin with his fingertips loving the warmth her skin held

"phenomenal" he said in the lowest voice he sounded cheesy as hell she pushed off him which made the two laugh a lot they cuddled closely to each other a moment they never wanted to forget for as long as they lived..

That morning she got up got ready for work she picked up the clothes off the floor his sweatpants inside out she picked them up to fold them when something fell out of the pocket a red velvet box her eyes widened her skin was getting really hot, he was gonna propose??? Or he is? What- she quickly put the box back in his pants and threw them on the floor

"Y/n, mr Crawford needs to speak with you." His assistant came up to her at office “can’t he just call me men are useles Lucy” the assistant laughed walking out, she got up going to his office "chase if this is about me being late-" she was going to explain herself until he stopped her, "nope I have a job proposal” proposal that word it scared her to say the least... “I'm handing it over to you first if you don't want it I'm giving it to angie. Y/n I want you to take the duchan case." Chase said She was in shock "chase-" "you know how much you mean to me and this company you're the right women to take it I offered it to you first" "what do I tell Sebastian?" "If you take the offer? Well hi honey baby sweetheart I have to leave for the next 5 months to Brazil and I won't be back anytime soon and also I can't have any contact with you or anyone else for that matter just my boss" chase said with a laugh he clicked his pencil once he ended his sentence.

"Haha very funny," she rolled her eyes "listen can you give me two days?" He nodded standing up as did she "I need your answer by morning the second day alright kid" "yes sir" they hugged and she left, her relationship was very friendly with mr Crawford he didn't treat anyone in the company the way he treats y/n I guess because they get along so well. Y/n has a chance to leave the country and figure out a case and be a reporter something she'd never thought she would do, but she would lose seb..maybe even lose the proposal if she leaves

"Hey I'm home" she yelled as she took her keys from the lock, closing the door she felt a strange sensation come upon her like it wasn't sebastian in the house but someone else, her instincts kicked in she grabbed the stick for the fire place walking around the corner it was a women cleaning which startled the women that was cleaning she threw her rag in the air she was filled with fright, "miss I'm so sorry I thought mr stan told you I was coming in today" y/n huffed with relief "it's okay not to be rude but why did he call you to come in today?"

"He said a special occasion" she told y/n, she shrugged her shoulders what was sebastian's special occasion? Is he gonna propose???

"I never got your name?" Y/n said

"Margo" she reached out her hand for y/n to shake it and she did "um I guess carry on sorry for almost beating you to death" she laughed and the women did too she went into her bedroom and laid on the bed “what am I gonna tell him do” she was in panic mode what did she do when she panicked... “CHRIS come over” she said he laughed on the other line “what is it this time” he said “an emergency for your ears only mr Evans I am warning you”

It was an hour later Margo cleaned the entire house it was spotless... why did he ask her to come in?

“He’s gonna WHAT” he said

“YEAH I saw the box”

“did you see the ring?” He whispers

“no I wanted it to be a suprise! Now tell me what to do”

“Don’t take the job offer” Chris said “are you gonna elaborate or that’s it just don’t take the job” she was anxious

“you’ve wanted him your whole life and you have him now and you’re gonna give up on him for a job? There’s more to live than a job” Chris said “you’re right I just this is so good for me I’m scared that.. I’ll lose on this opportunity and I lose out on my seb” she wanted to bang her head into the wall

“Choose Sebastian or the job”

“Sebastian”

“Than you’ve made up your mind!”

“I want him Chris i always will but will he always want me like he does right now will he change his mind in 5 months will he decide he doesn’t love me after all, I have to think about these things because he makes promises and doesn’t keep them... I just hope I’m making the right choice” she said

“You are” he pulled her in and they hugged while they sat down, their legs up bodies close their heads on top of each other’s, they heard the door open “cheating on me already” Sebastian walked in with a laugh “yes kiss me” she said with her lips puckered he kissed her sweetly “hey Chris” they hugged “I guess I’m gonna go... good luck” he said grabbing his jacket and kissing her cheek “bye text me when you get home”, and he left Sebastian nowhere to be found

“Seb....seb....” she looked in the kitchen in the bathroom in their separate rooms where?.. oh the “backyard” he looked out into the skies some beautiful buildings “I have something to tell you” he said looking at and it at her, “what” she got closer closing the door behind her.. “I got offered a job..and I’m not gonna be here for a while” her heart broke “what...” “my boss told me I have no choice I have to take this job she can’t lose money on my account, baby” he turned towards her “ it’s in another country they want me to run one of our out of country offices for the next 5 months” she laughed, “I got offered a job today that I can take or leave they want me to report a story in Brazil for 5 months and I didn’t know if I should take it because of us..” he was amazed “baby a reporting job that’s amazing I’m so proud of you” he kissed her for a brief moment putting his hands on her shoulders rubbing them “tonight was suppose to go a lot different, this wasn’t suppose to be happening now” he fiddled his pocket pulling out a letter “hi beautiful, I’m writing you this letter cause god I miss you things haven’t been the same without you I haven’t been able to see you remember when we slow danced at dance rehearsal, when you helped me pick out the flowers for the wedding, I just want you to know that I love you and when the right times come they come. Seb x” he said as he read out the letter “she found the letter when she came home after a few days away thinking it was for her, I wrote this letter for you I wrote letters every time I missed you he pulled out three letters from his jacket pocket “I confessed my love for you in all four letters because I thought maybe you’ll reciprocate it one day I hope today is that day” he got down on one knee her heart was racing she pushed her hair out of her face to wipe her tears

“We’re going to be apart for 5 months I don’t think I can wait that long to marry you y/n so for gods sake y/n y/m y/l will you marry me so help me god you stay in my life for the rest of my life” he said with small tears pouring out of his eyes she hugged him so tight she was bawling her eyes out she kissed him a million times it felt like “I knew you didn’t even care about the ring” he laughed she didn’t even put the ring on she knew he loved her a ring didn’t mean anything

“Yes a million times yes” she couldn’t believe she was saying these words to Sebastian of all people she was saying yes to getting married to him she was engaged!

“Sebastian it’s so big!” She was amazed “you deserve it my fiancé” a smirk left his lips she loved hearing that word come out of his mouth “I might just rip your clothes off now” “is it cause I said my fiancé” she nodded kissing him once more “I’ll only be able to call you once a month for the 5 months I’m going to be gone” she said he nodded “me too” they both knew this was going to be a hard task however it’s happening to both them..

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Two

Hey, guys!! This shit is a LONG chapter so buckle up. I decided (y'all are tired of me doing this I know) to explain Viv's tripping on edibles in the next chapter (posting Monday night) so this chapter takes place after she trips balls, but don't worry, you guys will see that hot mess Express in a few days in flashback form.

Also, @sharon6713 makes youtube videos (here's her masterlist [my favorite of her's is this gem right here for obvious reasons]) anyway, she's been supporting me and my story for a loooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnngggggggg time and I need to return the favor so if you guys have any motley crue, the dirt cast, or any other fandom requests for video content, she's the plug.

If you are interested here is her request form

Again, thank you guys, I love you, and please enjoy the chapter!!

Words: 8.1k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of Drug abuse, violence, explicit sexual situations

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I press my lips to Duff's cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, his chest, his abdomen…

He groans, his eyes tightening a moment as he stretches, his hand in my hair as my lips press just below his navel and he looks at me. 

"Good morning." I say to him, giving one last kiss to his skin before he's pulling me up to peck at his lips. 

"Good morning." He replies as I lay beside him, my leg swung over his waist, my cheek against his left bicep. 

"Did you sleep good?" I ask him next and he nods. 

"Did you?"

"Yeah." I reply, kissing his cheek again, and he grins.

"Okay, if you're gonna be all lovey, I'm gonna go brush my teeth." He goes to sit up but I stop him. 

"No." I whine, keeping him to the bed with my leg. 

"Viv, I probably taste like vodka and cigarettes." He complains with a chuckle. 

"I don't care." I insist and he looks at me. "What? It doesn't bother me." 

He shakes his head a little, brushing my hair out of my face before he kisses me again, and I push my tongue past his lips, sighing when he wraps his arm tighter around my waist.

When we pull away, I notice an abnormality in his right bicep, a wedge shaped scar, and furrow my brows a little. 

He notices and looks at his arm.

"It was a water skiing accident at this lake when I was like 13. I was pulled under and the muscle was stripped from here," his fingers grazing from his elbow to his shoulder, "all the way up here. I almost drowned." He informs me, and I look at him, the thought of him drowning at age twelve is hard to think about. "I saw the light and just felt the warmth of people that had passed on that I knew...it was weird, but, like, it wasn't scary. It happened really fast." He adds. 

"Are you scared to die, now?" I ask him out of curiosity and he shakes his head a little, his fingers brushing against my cheek. 

"No. I'm not. After that experience I decided it's gonna be a good place I go when I die." He states and I smile. 

"I can't imagine you going anywhere but some place good, Duff. You're too kind to go anywhere else." I assure him and he chuckles a little, before kissing at my hand. 

"What about you?" He asks and I let out a breath. 

"I'm not scared of death in the sense of where I'm going afterwards, I know where I'm going and it's no place to be scared of...it's just how I'm going to die, when I'm going to die, and the effect it will have on my loved ones. That's what scares me." I explain. "But at the same time I wouldn't want to know how I'm going to die, or when, or what happens to everybody after I go." 

"Well, no, because that would be a bummer looming over you constantly." He points out. 

"Exactly." I agree. "I'll go whenever God's decided my work here is done, but if he can just let me pass peacefully in my sleep, I won't mind." 

"No strokes, no getting shot, no weed brownie…" he trails off starting to laugh and I try not to laugh. "...overdoses." he manages to get out through his laughter.

"It's not funny." I tell him, biting my cheek to keep from chuckling.

"Or crab infestations." He adds. 

"You are so funny. Wow." I cut my eyes at him. 

"Hey, look, I coulda told ya not to eat brownies from Stevie and Slash's room and not to sleep in the same bed as Stevie after a night of him hooking up with several different girls, but I thought that was common sense, Viv." He attempts to speak with a straight face, failing miserably. 

"It took me years to grow hair down there, Duff, and now I look like a thirteen year old all over again, and I had to be fumigated. It's not funny." I finally laugh with him and he rubs his face that's turning red with how funny he finds it that the same night I got stoned shitless off edibles, I slept in the same bed as Steven and woke up with pubic lice. 

"Vivian, c'mon, it'll grow back." He tries to make me feel better. "There wasn't that much down there to begin with, so it's not like--"

"--Shh! I didn't say that so we could have an in depth conversation about my situation down there." I tell him, my face turning red. 

"Viv, baby, I've had my face down there, okay? I've been all up in your situation."

"Duff--"

"--You've been all up in my situation, too, it's nothin--" 

"--Ahh!" I squeal a little, covering my ears and burying my face in my pillow. 

"Hey, you came in the other night talking all types of dirty, and then last night when you were tripping on those brownies you had me blushing pretty freaking bad, and now you get all embarrassed when I'm just stating a fact: we've both had our faces all up in each others'--"

"--Okay, okay, I get it, I get it." I'm blushing so badly I feel the heat of my blood in my face. 

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." He tells me. 

"Thank you." I uncover my face and take a breath, snuggling closer against him.

"...I never noticed you have, like, three cute little freckles down there, though, until there was no hair covering them up." He says next.

"Duff, hush!" I put my hands over his mouth and he bursts into laughter again.

"So, what? You have freckles everywhere. It's cute, Viv." He tells me when he gets away from me and catches his breath. 

"Yes, a higher risk of developing melanoma is cute." I reply sarcastically as he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, about to get up. "Where are you going?" I ask him as he stands up and stretches. 

"I've got rehearsal in an hour." He tells me. "Remember?"

"Oh...right." I mumble.

"C'mon, Viv, don't sound so enthused." He steps to the bathroom and turns on the shower. 

"C'mere really quick." I tell him, and he sticks his head out of the bathroom. 

"What is it?" He asks me as I go to the foot of the bed.

"Just come here for a second." I repeat and he does, raising his brows. "Do you have to go?" I ask him blinking up at him. 

"Yes, I do, and you do too because if neither of us goes that's gonna get people to thinking." He pokes the tip of my nose. 

"Okay." I roll my eyes. 

He kisses me for a split second before going to take his shower. 

I didn't want to go to the bands' rehearsals, I didn't want Duff to go anywhere, I just wanted the both of us to stay locked in that room together and the rest of the world to go the hell away.

He comes out in light wash, lace-up jeans, his Billy Idol tshirt, and his chain that he has around his neck with the small lock hung on it the way Sid Vicious used to wear. 

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling one black cowboy boot on, looking around for the other one that I stole so he can't leave. 

"Viv, have you seen my other boot?" He asks me while I've got it hid under the covers, glancing at the nightstand to remind myself my crucifix is still there.

I stand up on the bed and slip it on my right foot before walking as best I can to him on the mattress before slipping my leg over his shoulder, my foot adorned by his boot resting on the top of his thigh. 

He looks down at it and then up at me, speechless when he sees I'm not completely naked, wearing nothing but his boot and his cream colored cowboy hat. 

I look down at him innocently, knowing exactly what I'm doing and he knows it, but he doesn't call me out on it. 

He just looks at his boot, slowly pulling it off my foot before pressing his lips to my knee before he turns to completely face me, kissing at my inner, lower thigh, and inching higher. 

Right before he can reach his target I'm plopping to my knees on the mattress, his hat nearly falling off of me, making me giggle as my hand flies up to keep it in place for a second, before he's leaning down to kiss me again, his hand grabbing at my bare ass, using that as leverage to pull me completely against him. 

I feel him through his jeans and have to rub my thighs together, eager for him to be in me, before I'm pushing at his chest, causing him to fall back on his back with a little laugh as I crawl over him, the junction of my thighs resting on the tent in his jeans, making him curse under his breath when I lean forward and kiss him, rocking my hips, delicious friction causing a hunger to snake up through my core. 

"I, uh, see the use of the hat now." He gets out through little breaths as I grind against him again, my teeth teasingly pulling at his bottom lip.

"Mhm." I grin, my fingers beginning to untie the string of his pants.

"Before you do that," he starts and I raise my brows, resisting the urge to moan when his finger tips run up and down my spine before giving my thighs a nice squeeze. "I was wondering if you could ride something else first…" he suggests and I'm confused for a millisecond before he slyly runs his tongue along his bottom lip. "...you know, just to get good and broken in, first." He adds and I bite my lip, leaning down and kissing him, again, my tongue dancing with his.

"I will ride anything you want me to." I reply, my lips brushing against his. 

Duff was slowly becoming accustom to the fact that I wasn't sweet innocent vanilla Vivian he had suspected I was...although I'm not sure how the hell he thought Nikki survived sex with me all those years if I didn't adapt to or like the same stuff he did, and Nikki was (and still is) into some weird, nasty, debauched shit, so learning to get into what Duff was in to was a lot easier to do than Duff trying to get in to what I was in to.

"Ah!" I giggle out with a moan laced around it, my thighs tensing as Duff's tongue continues to lap against my clit, holding me to his mouth with his hands at my hips as I can't help but grind in rhythm with his tongue, my hands palming at my chest, adding to the heat spreading in my core. "Duff, tha--oh fuck." I gasp out when he softly nips at the sensitive bud, and I can feel his smile at the sound of my pleasure. "That feels so good." I assure him, my head leaned back, my hands bracing on his chest that's beginning to have a thin sheen of sweat over it and I can't help but to lean down, my tongue running across his skin for a moment before I'm reaching for his cock, nearly drooling at the beading precum. 

I run my tongue across the slit of his tip and he jumps in his skin, not expecting it, making me chuckle to myself before he's sliding two fingers into me, my eyes rolling back at the combination of him finger fucking me while eating me out and I bite my tongue to keep from calling him "daddy" because I remember it freaking him out the other night when I was stoned and called him that.

I moan when I wrap my lips around him and slowly bob my head up and down, enjoying the feeling of him tensing up and trying to keep concentrated in pleasuring me. 

My tongue snakes against his length with each thrust, my tongue savoring every bit of his taste because he sure as fuck is savoring every bit of mine. 

He nearly jumps again when my hand gently massages his balls, making him moan into me. 

I take him out of my mouth, keeping my other hand at his base, jacking him off while I catch my breath before I'm spitting on him, taking him back into my mouth, picking up my pace. 

His grip on my hips tightens when I deep throat him, trying to relax to keep from gagging, but I end up doing it anyway, and I hear him curse under his breath. 

I try one more time and manage to get his entire shaft down my throat to the hilt without gagging, and his hand comes down onto my ass cheek, hard, making me cry out around him as he starts hammering his fingers into me, the wet, sloppy sounds of my sex being played with filling the room and I catch my breath when I pull him out of my mouth, moving my hand up and down his cock at the same speed he's moving his fingers into me. 

My pussy tightens around his fingers while his tongue swipes across my clit a few more times before my cum is wetting at his mouth as "Duff" cracks through my lips while I'm gasping for breath. 

He lets out a hum as he drinks it all in, swiping his tongue from my cunt to my clit, making sure none of it goes to waste. 

When he's done, he's pushing at my waist, moving me off of him.

I roll onto my back, coming down from my high, my chest heaving with heavy breaths as he moves to hover above me, his pure, genuine smile nearly melting my heart. 

I grin at him, leaning up and kissing him as he runs his hand down my side and reaches between us to align himself with my entrance. 

We watch each other as he slowly pushes into me, the feeling of him filling me as much as he can causing my toes to curl, and my legs to wrap around his hips. 

"Are...Are you okay?" He asks me, his forehead against mine and I lick my lips and nod. 

"Yeah." I tell him. "Are you?" 

"Yeah." He replies. 

"Are you gonna move or…?" I ask next and he takes a nervous breath. 

"Duff, I'm fine, I promise." I assure him. 

"I know you are but--" I cut him off, pulling his lips to mine, my tongue moving with his as I tighten my legs around him, causing him to move against my cervix, making the both of us let out moans. 

He pulls out of me before pushing back in, slowly, taking a few more thrusts before he picks up his pace, taking my moans and whimpers as cues that he's doing good. 

"Harder." I say in his ear, and he looks at me for a second. "You're not gonna hurt me, baby." 

He nervously licks his lips before pushing into me more frantically, his prick being forced into me to the hilt, which sends a deliciously painful shock through me, causing me to arch underneath him, my nails clawing down his back, making him groan out, only resulting in him going harder into me. 

"It feels so good." I say, whimpering, my fingers in his blonde hair as his tongue and lips are on the skin of my neck.

"You feel so good." He tells me and I bite my lip.

"Can you do something for me?" I ask him, trying to concentrate on my words as he fucks me, the eagerness on his face to please me making me confident that he'll play into my suggestion. 

"Yeah?" He slows down some, purposefully rooting himself balls deep in me, and I have to keep my eyes from fucking crossing. 

I take his hand and put it around my neck, my hand closing over his fingers to manually tighten them around my throat. 

"You're not gonna hurt me." I assure him, seeing his hesitant facial expression. "Even though I wouldn't be mad if you did." I add, moving my hand from his, and he slowly squeezes at my throat little by little, until it's a comfortable pressure, not as extreme as Nikki's, but enough to make me feel like I'm being completely dominated.

"So wet." He says, and I can already feel a puddle forming under me. 

I hum, taking my index and middle fingers and reaching down, gathering some of my slick juices, holding them to his lips and he doesn't slow his movements as he sucks my fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off, before he leans down and kisses me, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue. 

"Duff." I say, my stomach knotting up, his hand around my throat, his pounding into me, his eyes watching every moment of my oncoming orgasm, welcoming the the pressure building up before it's releasing, my walls contracting around him.

"Oh, jesus, Viv." He groans out, and I smile, kissing him, the taste of vodka and cigarettes on his tongue, but I don't care. 

I can feel that he's about to finish, too, and when he's about to pull out, I'm mustering up the energy to flip us over.

"Just come in me." I say, pressing a small kiss to his lips, moving my hips down so he goes to the hilt in me. 

He lets out a moan when I lick up his neck as he unloads into me, a soft hum slipping past my lips at the feeling. 

I take deep breaths and roll off of him when he's finished, pulling the covers up to my chest as he glances at me, trying to catch his breath. 

"We really gotta start using condoms or something, Viv." He tells me, his knuckle brushing against my cheek before he turns on his side to face me. 

"Won't make a difference." I let out before I can think about it, and he furrows his brows. 

"If you get knocked up, it will." He replies.

I don't answer, sitting up and going to the bathroom to shower off. 

He follows right behind me, and when we're done, we're coming back into the room to the sound of the phone ringing off the hook. 

"Hello?" I answer it without a thought, realizing this isn't my room. 

If it would have been anyone other than one of the members of Guns, or Fred, I would have been screwed.

"Hey, um, not to be rude or anything, Viv, but um, where the fuck is Duff at?" Slash asks me and I remember their fucking rehearsal. 

I look at the clock and see we're an hour and a half late for it. 

"Holy shit." I say.

"And Doc's running around trying to find you, too…" he adds as Duff quickly gets his clothes back on. 

"Just stall, okay? We're coming--and don't mention that me and him are with each other right now." I plead.  

"I won't, but Duff's gonna get his ass chewed: Axl's fucking pissed." He informs me.  

"It wasn't Duff's fault, tell Axl he can get on to me all he wants, but leave Duff out of it. We'll be there in a few minutes. Bye." 

"Bye." 

We hang up and I rush to put clothes on, Duff and I not saying a word to each other as we finish getting ready--but I can tell he's pissed. At me or himself is to be determined. 

One of the most admirable traits Duff possesses is the fact that music is so important to him, he made it a standard that he'd never allow anything to interfere with his effort put forth towards his responsibility in bands he's a part of. 

He was never late to a rehearsal unless there was a good reason, and if he was going to be late he called ahead, he was never too drunk or high to play at a show...he never put anything else he had going on before his band. 

Guns N' Roses, even back when he was drinking and drugging heavily, was no exception. He might not have remembered a bit of the shows played at the peak of his addiction, but he played them well enough that nobody could hear him and say, 'he's really out of it'. The closest he ever got to playing messy on stage was during the Freddie Mercury tribute concert at Wembley, when he was so messed up that when artists gathered to sing "We Are the Champions", he couldn't walk, so Elton John had to practically drag him up on stage to the 50 person chorus line and he took full advantage of the shoulders on either side of him to keep himself upright while Liza Minnelli sung lead.

That was possibly the straw that broke the camel's back in terms of deciding maybe Monroe didn't need to witness his father spiraling as much as he had been. 

He had plenty of his own issues that were at risk of getting before the band, but women getting in the way of his duty to his band? Never happened. 

Except on the tour with Mötley Crüe, and that was what caused Axl and the guys to realize we weren't just hooking up if Duff was willing to let me get in the way of his commitment to the band.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Axl snaps at Duff as he steps to the stage and I take a seat in one of the audience chairs, Sparkie glancing between Duff and I from where he's at standing up, his eyes cut slightly, while Tansy's asleep in the chair closest to him. 

"Axl, I know, man, okay?" Duff replies, knowing he's fucked up. 

"We're talking about this later, don't fucking think this is over." He warns him before glaring at me. 

Fred makes a beeline for me, his brows raised. 

"What the hell, Viv?" He asks me under his breath. 

"Are the gu--" he cuts me short. 

"--Nikki's so fucked he doesn't even realize we're running behind and Tommy and Vince are screwing around with some chicks they picked up on the way over here, Mick's drinking…" he trails off, disappointment all over his features. 

"I know, Fred, I know I messed up." 

"You can't possibly be serious about carrying on with him on this tour without telling anybody." He refers to Duff and I let out a breath. 

"I can't tell Nikki or he'll be pissed and might kick the guys off the tour." I say. 

"So you're just gonna screw someone else without thinking to tell him?" 

"He did it to me." I point out. 

"If he finds out from anyone else--"

"--Which he won't." 

"But if he does, Vivian, I don't want him to take that out on you." He explains. 

"He won't find out, okay?" I promise him. "We'll be more careful, Fred." 

He lets out a breath and relents. 

"Fine, Viv. Fine." 

The moment Guns finishes up and let's Mötley Crüe take over, I see what Fred means about Nikki.

His eyes are completely void, his shell being taken over by heroin, only able to play through muscle memory.

He's so fucked up. 

Apparently I'm not being subtle, and he catches me looking at him, completely stopping his playing altogether in the middle of "All In The Name Of…" 

"The fuck are you staring at?" he snaps at me. 

"Nothing." I mumble, standing up to walk backstage. 

I don't have the energy to argue with him and if he spends what's left of his energy arguing with me, he'll pass out. 

When I get backstage, I hear Axl's muffled voice in what's set to be their dressing room...and I realize he and Duff and the guys are in there.

I press my ear to the door out of curiosity, but I end up regretting it as I hear Axl bark out:

"She's a fucking problem!" 

"I know I held everybody up but it's not her fault, it's on me." Duff explains.

"If anybody was paying enough attention to realize you two had to have been off together, they can tell somebody and we're fucked, Duff, do you fucking realize that? And if they kick us off this tour and talk shit to the press it's gonna take us longer to get to our goal and you're gonna be responsible for letting a piece of ass get in the band's way." Axl states. 

"I know." Duff replies, not arguing. He sounds too embarrassed and disappointed to argue. 

"And if this happens again, I'll tell Doc so he'll keep a tighter leash on her so she won't get herself or you into anymore fucking trouble on this tour." It's his final promise, and I hear him stepping to the door, making me scramble to hide behind the corner of the wall as he snatches the door open and stomps off in the other direction. 

Duff being late for that rehearsal kickstarted Axl's personal vendetta against me that started small but grew when Steven was kicked out the band and I raised hell over it. Then got bigger when Tansy relapsed in 1990 due to the stress of Guns N' Roses beginning to implode and Axl's ego getting bigger than God--especially to her in particular--and I told him it was his fault. Then even more when he found out I was the one that suggested suing the band to Steven's mother and came to our house in the middle of the night with a fucking shot gun which didn't scare me because I'd been shot before and was perfectly fine so if that cocky bastard wanted to shoot me again, in front of my fucking kids and be an asshole, then so be it, but it really pissed Nikki off. Then our feud finally came to a head in 1993, when Slash and Duff were Shanghaied into signing a contract relieving the name "Guns N' Roses" to Axl, and solely to Axl, if something were to happen to either of them--quitting, fired, or "death" (although the contract said nothing about death, their manager just used it as a cover up when confronted by Duff over it.) 

Their share of the band remained the same, meaning what Duff was leaving to me and Monroe upon his death in terms of equities and royalties wouldn't be touched, but I was beginning to realize it wouldn't have been much longer before Axl tried to take that, too, just like he had fucking done to Steven. So when Duff explained what had been done, I got on a plane and flew to their next show just to kick Axl's ass once again because Duff and Slash weren't confrontational enough to do it, they just tried to keep the peace as much as they could, but Axl wasn't my fucking lead singer and my kids were too young to know what exactly was going on.

I had nothing to lose. 

He sued--when I kicked him so hard the heel of my stiletto went right through his calf--and ended up with $100,000. 

$100,000 didn't sting me or Nikki as hard as a couple million must've stung him when Steven won his lawsuit against the band, and the prick deserved it. 

They all did in that situation. 

After being sued, though, Nikki wouldn't let me be around him anymore.

If Tansy wanted to hang out, I couldn't go to their house, and I couldn't take Monroe out to see his dad unless they were off the road or there was a guarantee I would be kept separated from Axl at all times.

I guess I really ended up being a "problem" to Axl, after all.

Duff goes out that night, leaving some money for me to get room service but not saying a word to me before he leaves, resulting in me going to my room incase someone tries to come find me and isn't suspicious as to why I'm in Duff's room. 

I'm getting out of my shower after washing my hair when a knock on my door sounds, making me believe it's the room service I ordered…

I put on my robe and open the door, revealing Sparkie. 

My face falls and I'm about to slam the door shut, but he stops it, stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. 

"What the hell do you want?" I ask, crossing my arms and he shrugs. 

"Just to talk." He tells me, smirking. "Ya know, catch up on each other, I feel like we aren't as close as we need to be." He adds and I raise a brow. 

"Because I don't want to be close to you." I state. 

"Well, you're pretty close to Duff with no issue." He voices and my heart nearly stops. "I figured you'd be keeping his bed warm while he's out."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I tell him.

"You two are practically joined at the hip, you were both late for rehearsal, you share a room...just because none of the other guys notice it, doesn't mean I don't." He adds and I roll my jaw. "I already caught you, now we just need to talk about what you're going to do for me, to help remind me not to let it slip to Nikki…" he takes a step closer to me and I back away until my back is against the wall, and he takes advantage of it, his hand going over my mouth before I can yell, causing a line of shock to roll up my spine as he stares down at me, evilly. "I know one thing you can do." He goes on, his free hand teasing at the belt of my robe, before pulling it out of its tie, opening it. 

Tears of anger swell in my eyes as I try to shake off the initial shock so I can fight back. 

"Why don't you show me exactly what was so good about you, that it made Nikki want to marry you, and is making Duff put his own band aside for you?" 

He opens the robe a little more, eyeing my chest, and before he can touch me, a knock on the door and "room service" sounds on the other side of the door.

I use it as an opportunity to get away from him as he lets out an angry sigh for being interrupted before I open the door. 

My food is delivered and I thank the woman who brought it up, grabbing some cash that Duff had left for me for food, from my dresser, and tipping her.

"Thank you." She tells me and I make a point to motion for Sparkie to leave, in front of her, that way if he refused there was a witness.

He doesn't take any chances, giving me a sarcastic smile, stepping to the door, stopping in front of me and getting in my ear and threatening me.

I tried to sleep that night but the eminent risk of Nikki finding out about Duff and I was starting to eat at me. 

With Nikki as bad off as he was, I was scared he wouldn't have been able to handle it, and our relationship was already in shambles, I didn't need him to have more reasons to scream my head off.

Part Seventy-Two -- Part 2

[just-fan-fics]

With you (part 2)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: the stalker is back, this time she kidnaps y/n leaving a letter behind for Bucky. He has three hours to find you or she'll kill you. Will bucky be on time?

warning: kidnapping, crazy stalker

italics= reader thoughts

a/n: sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes English is not my main. Hope you enjoy :)

part 1

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

You woke up, the sun shining through the window. You turn to see Bucky already up looking at you. "Morning doll" he says placing his hand on your cheek and cares it with his thumb. You smile closing the gap and kissing him. You stay there looking at him smiling like a fool, you love him with all your heart.

You two head down stairs, Sam, Steve and Nat sitting having breakfast. “Hey love birds we left something for you” Nat says pointing at two plates of pancakes. “Thanks” you say and sit on the table. 

“Any plans for today?” Bucky asks you. “I’m meeting Jess at the movies, you?” “Training” “Sounds like fun” “yeah, so much fun” he says with sarcasm, you smile and kiss him. “I’ll go get ready” 

You go up stairs, take a shower and get ready to leave. You send Jess a text telling her that you are leaving the tower now. You put your headphones on and get in a cab. You look through the window and see the buildings pass and that’s when you realize that that is not the way to the movies. You look around again trying to see if maybe this is another way, but you can’t tell. What the hell?.

You take your phone and unlock it, you don’t realize until that moment that your hands are shaking. A hand grabs your phone and someone puts a wet towel on your mouth and nose making your world fuzzier and fuzzier until everything turns black. 

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

Tower, 6pm

Long time no see James, this time I will win. You have three hours to find your beloved girlfriend before I kill her. Good luck.

                                                                                     - y/n’s true love

Bucky looks at the message over and over again. Trying to figure out who this may be, and if this is some type of sick joke. Bucky picks up his phone and dial your number, he waits for you to pick up but you don’t. He checks the time seeing if you have already enter to the movie so you can’t pick up your phone, but the movie isn’t until seven. He tries to call you again but nothing.

His heart is beating fast and he runs his hand through his hair, something that he does when his nervous. He tries to think, who this may be and then it suddenly hits him, your stalker. She has been missing for four months now, has she been preparing all of this?. 

He takes the elevator and gets down to Tony’s lab. “I need your help” Bucky says. “Wow no hello Tony how are you? Hey can you help me with something please? No?” Tony says turning to him while cleaning his hand with a cloth. “Y/n has been kidnapped” Tony’s face changes and worry fill his eyes. “I need you to track a girl, I don’t know her name but I know what she looks like” “Follow me” Tony says taking the elevator.

6:45pm

It has been more than half hour and nothing. Bucky is in the training area punching things and trying to think, that’s the only thing he can do for now. He feels helpless. The only thought of you being in danger angers him. He thinks and thinks for any clue that may lead to you but the only thing that goes through his mind is your smile the one that you give him everyday when you wake up or at any time of the day, but that beautiful imagine is soon replace for pain, because that’s the only thing that runs through his mind right now, what that psycho is doing to you. 

The though of you being in danger angers him with that girl and himself. He promise himself, damn, he promised you that he would take care of you and would never let anything happen to you, but he couldn’t keep that promise. He punches the boxing bag harder and harder trying to release some anger, but is useless. He takes a breath and look at the now broken bag and he let himself think of you one more time, not the bad part but the good ones, he won’t let anyone take that away from him. 

So he thinks of you, the first time he ever saw you on the tower, you came running from the elevator on your shorts and hoodie and gave him a smile while you presented yourself, or the first time he asked you out after the first encounter with your stalker, you hesitated at first but you nodded yes at the end, and he felt the luckiest men alive. He leaves his favorite memory with you the last one, the one in which you shared your very first kiss in your bedroom door, and in that same night you invited him to your room and you slept together with your head on his chest while his metal arm surrounded you in a protective way. In that very moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He let out a smile and looks at the boxing bag again, this time with determination, because he has to find you. No, he will find you.

7:25pm

“Bucky, we got something” Tony says through the training area telephone. Bucky wastes no time to get to Tony. The image of your stalker on the screen are everywhere and in the table in the middle of the room a map with some areas colored in red. “This are the areas where she has been for the past three months” Tony explains to him. “The only thing is that we don’t know where she may be holding y/n hostage” 

Bucky looks at the map and thinks where she may have taken you. Alone, she wants you all to herself. He look for the most isolated red spot. “There, she is there” Bucky says. “If you are wrong about this, we won’t find her in time” Tony says looking at him worried. “She’s there, I’m sure of it” 

“Then let’s go” Sam says

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

Somewhere, 6:25pm

You wake up. Your head is pounding. You look around trying to see where you are or any clue that may lead you to it. You close your eyes and ignoring the headache you try to think what have happened to you. You remember being in a cab and seeing building that you’ve never seen and then the world becoming blurrier until you saw nothing. You try to move but you can’t, your hands are tied behind your back and your legs are tied up together.

Where the hell I am? 

The door opens, a single ray on light making his way through the door. You close your eyes trying to get used to the light when the room gets full of it. You open your eyes and look to see who did this to you. Your eyes wide open same as your mouth, your eyes begin to get teary. This cannot be, this girl again?

“Surprise to see me again?” she says smiling at you “I didn’t want it to be like this but you gave me no choice, you were always with him” she says getting closer while clenching her fists “you were supposed to be mine, no, you are suppose to be mine, not his! Why him, huh? Why him and not me?!” she says getting closer to you, then you feel your right cheek burning. She has just slap you. “Look what you make me do!” she says taking a step backwards. She pinches her nose and sighs. She looks at you one more time and leaves the room.  

7:15pm

Bucky, are you coming for me? I’m sure you are. You can’t help but smile at the thought of him coming through that door. God, I don’t know how long I’ve been here but I miss him already. You smile again. You start crying thinking of this morning, when you say goodbye to him but you didn’t say ‘I love you’ and this morning could’ve been the last one you’ve ever see him again. The thought of that breaks your heart. Oh my God, what about Jess? She may think I ditch her. 

How long I’ve been here?

You move your hands trying to loosen the ropes up a little. They are hurting your writs. You give up after a while starting to losing hope, not only on the ropes, but in everything.

7:30pm

The door opens again and the light fills the room. You close your eyes again to get used to the light. This time she takes a sit in front of you and smiles at you, a smile that sends a shiver down your spine. 

"Sorry about that" she says pointing at your, probably, bruised cheek. "I've been following you for over a year now" she says smiling, proudly? "I never mind looking you from afar, but when you started to get closer to Bucky" she says spitting his name with anger and disgust. "It's just that I don't understand why you love that person, he's nothing but an assassin" she says. You breath faster and your blood boil with anger. He is not an assassin. You want to answer her back but she keeps taking.

"I love you and I bet I love you more than him, so it's not fair that you are with him and not me!" she starts to get angry "so that's why I did this, so we can be together forever" she says taking of a gun and putting it on her lap.

You look at the gun and then at the crazy eyes she is giving you. She is gonna kill me. I'm gonna die.

7:45pm

You look at the door wating for her to come any minute now. You don't know how long you've been there but it feels like an eternity. You are thirsty and cold and your anckles and wrists hurts and your cheek hurts and you can also feel your lip swollen, something that you didn't notice before.

You hear a loud noise and you look at the door waiting for the worst. "Where is she?!"

Bucky.

"Bucky here!" you scream with all your might so he can hear you. You hear loud steps getting closer and closer until the door opens. Bucky is there.

"Y/n" he says waisting no time to hug you. "Untie me first please" you say letting the tears flood down your cheeks. "Yeah, sorry"

After you are free you waste no time on hugging him, letting yourself cry on his shoulder. "it's okay sweetheart, I'm with you" he says hugging you back.

Suddenly he gets up and walks through the door to where Sam and Tony are holding the girl. She smiles when she sees how angry Bucky is. "I told you that if I ever see you again, I'll kill you" Bucky says getting closer to the girl. "Go ahead, let y/n see what you really are, an assassin" she says and smile when she sees the look on Bucky's face.

"Let her go Buck" you say holding his arm "she'll be really good on a cell for the rest of her life" you say looking at her. "You are going to be mine and only mine!" she screams while Tony and Sam are taking her away.

You get face to face with Bucky and he looks at you. He cares very slowly and with care you bruised cheek. You can see his jaw clench and you put your hand on his cheek. "I'm okay, really" you close the gap and press your lips with his, something you've been dying to do.

"I love you" you smile

"I love you too"