#lol my hair was wasn't completely drying just yet!

[venusindelusion]

Giving In (to the Love): My Kink Is Karma

2nd chapter

SUMMARY: After that hideous night, your nightmare wasn't over yet and the odds were certainly not in your favour. Or, you were about to properly meet this mysterious pink haired girl. WC: 3K PAIRING: Vi (Arcane) x Fem!Reader WARNINGS/TAGS: MDNI, mentions of alcohol/bar, NO PROOF READ it's just me, miscommunication, and obviously cursing A/N: i don't know how college works in other countries so i'm just making everything up lol Previous chapter Next chapter

A light breeze caresses your face as you turn around trying to avoid it, sunlight illuminating your eyelids and interrupting your dreams which were turning into a nightmare. It would have been wonderful to be woken up by nature itself if it wasn't for the throbbing headache threatening to burst your brains.

You open your eyes slowly, your stomach growling and your mouth completely dry as if you had been out in the desert the night before. Except it was much worse— you were at a party, completely wasted and fighting for your life. Forcing your body to get up was painful, your head was still spinning and you couldn't focus your vision.

Once you are standing more or less still on your feet, you head to the door. This is what baby giraffes must feel like when they're learning how to walk. Your hand reaches for the door knob and you open it, cursing the sun and its light and the day you decided to get beige curtains instead of full black ones. The smell of coffee was in the air and your mouth starts watering over it, something you so needed right now.

"You're awake," a familiar voice says, "finally."

You turn around and see your dear not abandoning friend, Caitlyn, sitting on the couch with her own mug of coffee in her hand. Notebooks and different papers were spread over the small table in front of her, you assume it must be all homework.

"You spent the night here?" you asked her, serving some of that delicious hot coffee into your favourite mug. Just a taste of it could solve all your problems, or at least you hope so.

"Don't you remember? I brought you here, you were completely passed out."

Your brain was working overtime to try to piece together the events of last night. You remember going to the party, of course, dancing and drinking just a little bit… Until it was not a bit anymore and you were having your glass refilled over and over with different types of drinks. A bathroom door comes to mind, working your way downstairs and then trying to get outside.

You remember seeing a couple making out and then some flashes of blue hair. A blue haired teenager.

Oh.

"There was a drunk teen outside the house!" you yell at Caitlyn with your finger up, little pieces of last night coming together. This coffee really does wonders. As you sip a bit of it, you keep remembering more and more. "And someone yelled at me…"

She looks at you with concern on her face, "yeah, about that…" smiling softly she adds, "It was Vi—Violet, the teen's older sister. She said you gave her booze."

You could actually feel every cell of your skin moving and turning your expression into a horrified one. How could your uptight best friend know this violent girl?

Walking to the couch, you sit down beside her, still wearing your horrified expression.

"I never gave her booze, she's a kid!" you leave your mug on the small table in front of you, carefully moving your friend's paperwork and keep explaining. "I went outside after fighting for my life— which thank you very much for abandoning me," Caitlyn rolls her eyes and chuckles a bit at that comment, "and then I saw her passed out on the grass, I just wanted to help her!"

"I know, I'm not putting you on trial." she smiles at you and puts a hand on your shoulder, you can feel your muscles relaxing a little bit. The last thing you needed was your best friend not believing you, it was enough with that Vi girl thinking you poisoned her little sister.

"By the way, where were you while my brain wasn't working and I had to drink vodka mistaking it for water?" you raise one of your eyebrows, pretending to judge her. You didn't really blame her, she was not your babysitter and you should know by now that your stomach can't take that much alcohol, specially when all you'd eaten before was noodles. Precooked noodles.

Her cheeks turn instantly red and you furrow your brows, "I was in the bathroom…" is all she answers. You think for a moment and your eyes widen, your lips parted in realization of what she just admitted. It was so obvious; that Vi girl, the bathroom, Caitlyn even came a few seconds behind the pink haired lady when you were outside.

"Oh my god…" she looks at you confused, "so it's your fault I couldn't get into the bathroom to puke!"

Both of you laughed at the coincidence and stayed in comfortable silence for a moment. Your head wasn't threatening to kill you anymore, but your stomach was still growling a bit so you suggested ordering a pizza and staying in. It was your free day, neither of you felt the need to rush anywhere and it's been a while since you could spend an entire day with your best friend; she was always running around and busy with her studies and internship— it was tough getting into the Legal bussiness being just a student, and although her family is wealthy and has connections, Caitlyn has always worked hard to earn her place. As much as she can anyway.

Aware as you are that her social status has always been an advantage for her— one you used to envy when you were younger, the pressure and disappointment it carried were heavy on her shoulders.

After eating a whole pizza and some ice cream, you say your goodbyes and Caitlyn takes off, leaving you wondering what you could do with the remaining hours of the evening. You decide to put your favourite comfort movie as background sound while cleaning your place up a bit and then preparing your bag for tomorrow's lesson.

With the day coming to an end, you turn off the lights and sneak under your freshly changed sheets, then grab your phone to check for any new assigments or messages but what you find leaves you speechless; someone tagged you on a picture from the party, you see yourself outside the house completely wasted, your own vomit on your side and your mouth wide open from passing out. On the other hand, Caitlyn looked stunning while trying to wake you up.

You felt absolutely embarrassed, your veins filled with shame and you could feel your cheeks already turning red. Who would post something like this? And how come you only check it now?

Cursing at yourself for not using your phone earlier, you scroll up to see the username so you could know who this horrible human being was and gagged— no way, it couldn't be her.

"doing god's work"

That bitch.

Getting up the next morning was easy, all you had to do was forget about the embarrassing photo of you wasted and puked along with the fact that your whole class has already seen it and left comments about how ridiculous you looked and how funny that bitch was for posting it.

Easy.

You didn't even want to check your phone anymore, the embarrassment was too strong— but you were also angry as hell. Whatever reason she thought she had to post that picture wasn't enough, you wanted an apology; a real good one, on her knees and everything. Although remembering how muscular she was and how physically weak you are, you were willing to accept a simple sorry and go on with your life.

But you had a secret weapon, one who was involved with that bitch while you were fighting for your life outside the bathroom that night. And you were going to use it.

Once you grabbed everything you needed for today, you leave your apartment and get into the elevator. Feeling your phone ringing, you decide it was enough free screen time and pick up. Your secret weapon was calling you.

"Hey, my current favourite person in the whole wide world."

"Hi," she answers, you can hear some people chatting in the background and a door closing, "I won't be making it today, I got stuck at work. It's pure chaos here, everyone's running around and yelling at each other."

"What? What am I gonna do now?" You can feel your whole plan shattering to pieces inside your mind.

"What are you talking about? I'm just not going to class, you can handle yourself." you hear some papers sounds on the other side before she adds, "We can meet later, I could use your help for this case."

"I'm talking about the picture, haven't you seen it?" The elevator stops at the lobby and you start walking out, looking for the keys to the main door. "It's all over the internet." Now, you were just being a tiny bit dramatic.

"I didn't see any pic, but I'll check in a bit so send it to me and—" her boss' voice interrupts Caitlyn, he was yelling at her like a madman over an important paper. You could hear apologizing and more paper sounds until she picks up the phone again, "can't talk right now, this man will kill me if I don't find that stupid paper."

"It's okay, we'll talk later, Cait." You comforted her as you lock the main door and start walking down the street, you thank the heavens everyday that your apartment was close to your college. She hangs up and seconds later your phone alerts a new message arrived. It was from Caitlyn.

"Who was your favourite person?"

You can't help but laugh at that, she never misses anything even as trivial as it may be.

As you start walking, you think about what you should do; you couldn't take it down and you certainly weren't to ask her nicely— not like she would accept anyway. Deciding to put that chain of thoughts for later, you arrive to the classroom and hope for God to be merciful and your classmates forgetful.

You greet the professor and seat beside him. As part of your networking efforts and to earn extra credit, you help to organize paperwork, lessons and exams, occasionally even correcting them yourself. Of course, everything under strict supervision.

This semester you were assigned to Viktor's class, which you were grateful for. He was a brilliant man, very ahead of his time—if you dare say so, and handsome. You had to admit though, your little crush on him was embarrassing and a bit cliché, but your eyes weren't blind and you couldn't help yourself.

As the lesson went on, you stayed seated on the desk checking and grading exams from students while Viktor was explaining to the class how using AI on the medical tech department could help improve many lives; which had nothing to do with the actual topic picked for today. Just as you were getting bored of reading other student's interpretations and thoughts on their exams, you come across one name that catches your eyes: Violet.

Still, you weren't sure it was her. She might as well be someone else but what caught your attention was the fact that she actually belongs to this class and yet you have never seen her, maybe you just weren't paying attention. And what's even worse, she didn't write down a single good answer—this whole exam was a mess.

Oh, you had her good.

Your hand ached to grab the red pen and start marking all the incorrect answers, leaving little red lines across some words to state a grammar mistake and, finally, the most satisfying moment of all: grading. Without second thought, you write "FAILED" on her exam and wait for the lesson to finish so your work could be supervised.

After the lesson is done through, Viktor and you walk to his office down the hall and start preparing the topics and books required for the next class. You were getting a little nervous, being alone with him was embarrassing and you felt a bit undeserving of being her assistant in his lessons; although he picked you himself because you were an outshining student—his words. This certainly would not apply to your other classes which you were pretty far behind.

"These are the exams, correct?" he asks, grabbing the pile of papers in front of you.

"Yes, I already graded them but you should check if everything's okay." he hums in response as his eyes scans each word while you keep writing down the list of books needed.

Once he's done with it, he lets you know that you have done a very good work and that your day is over for now. Grabbing your bag and stuff, you were about to open the office's door when he called your name.

"I need one last thing from you." he says, looking a little concerned.

"Yes, of course."

"One of these students is in…" he grabs one of the exams spread on the desk and watches it carefully. "A particular situation, she may be in need of tutoring, and I believe you are perfect for the role."

"Sure, who would that be?"

"Her name's Violet, you already graded her exam as failed—" your face turns into a distressed one and he adds, "correctly so, don't you worry about that, but I wouldn't want to waste her potential over one failed test."

You nod in agreement and say your goodbyes to him, leaving the office with your heart pounding against your chest like crazy. This is not what you were expecting. Why did it have to be you of all people who gets to tutor her?

Well, you think that Violet is a pretty common name and it could actually be anyone. Maybe she's even nice, right?

The little break you had in between classes was dedicated to eat, so you head towards the cafeteria and pick your favourite seat next to the window. Today's weather was nice and you wished you had some free time to enjoy it outside.

While you were admiring the view through the window, a waitress approaches you and asks for your order. You turn your head around to reply and open your eyes wide when you take a look at her, unforgettable long blue braid, her teenage face so familiar that you can't even find the words to make your order.

"Do I have monkeys on my face or what?" she asks, clearly annoyed that you were wasting her time like that.

"N-No, sorry…" you assume she must've forgotten all about you that night. After all, she was as wasted, or worse, as you were. "Just a coffee, please."

She nods as she writes down your order with her eyebrows still furrowed and takes off. You stay there feeling a bit embarrassed at yourself for not being able to answer properly. Watching her from afar as you're waiting for your coffee to arrive, you wonder what is she doing in the college's cafeteria when she's so young, you have never seen her here before and for the way she gets annoyed easily at customers it seems obvious she got the job very recently.

Once your coffee arrives, you decide to get some courage and tell her, "I was there when you passed out the other night." She looks at you confused then her face turned into one of realization, so you continue, "Your sister yelled at me."

"Yeah, she does that—" the little bell hanging from the door started ringing, signaling someone entered. "speaking of the Devil…" she ends the conversation and approaches the person standing near the door, your eyes move on their own to the same spot just to find Violet with her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a black top, tightly on her body and some baggy sport pants. You could see her arms more muscular than the night you met her, biceps flexing and her arms accompanying whatever she was saying to her younger sister; she even looked like she had just showered, her pink hair dripping over her face and the small towel around her shoulders. You could even say she was actually attracti—

The teenager looks at you and laughes outloud, telling her sister something you couldn't hear and Violet stares at you, meeting your gaze with one eyebrow up then furrows. God, did you felt small under that gaze, but you also feel something you couldn't quite figure. Was it rage because of what she did?

You took a sip at your coffee and avoid her intimidating gaze. Just when you were about to pay for your order and leave, someone sits beside you.

"I heard you're tutoring me." Of course it was her, you can't believe Viktor told her about it so soon, you didn't feel mentally prepared yet.

"Seems like it." she was so close to you, you could smell her perfume. Her light blue eyes locked into yours, she didn't seem upset so you wonder if she actually remembers you.

"Fine, meet me at The Last Drop at night." she grabs her little towel and dries her hair ends.

"What? We're not studying in a bar."

"You scared you're gonna get drunk and posted online again, cupcake?" she smirks teasingly. So she does remember you. She watches you getting pissed off already, how dares she make fun of what she did! "I work there, once I close the place we'll study at peace." she explains.

"Fine." you're already pissed off, but the only reason you agree was because of Viktor, you couldn't let him down and certainly needed those extra credit if you wanted to be an outshining student.

Leaving the money for the coffee and a tip for the waitress, you stand up and Violet moves aside so you can leave.

"Wait," she stops you on your tracks and you look at her annoyed, "say hi to Cait for me." she winks at you and walks through the door, not before saying goodbye to her sister. You let out an involuntary groan and leave behind her.

You really hope she's a quick learner or else you're going to lose your mind.

Next chapter

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part four

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: language, suggestive ✦ Spoiler: talking about dressrosa and doflamingo

A/N: I don't know why but I've been listening non stop to 50 Cent - Ayo Technology ft. Justin Timberlake when I was writing lol.

wordcount: 2743

tagging: @lazyninjatheorist - @sassyyassi

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

Without knocking, you barge into Ace's room. You have completed the preparations and drawn up a rough plan. Now all you need to do is discuss the matter with Ace. To your surprise, he doesn't seem to be in his room, as there is no sign of Ace.

Strange. Marco said he was in his room… It seems he was mistaken.

Just before you were about to reach for the doorknob to go out, the bathroom door opened behind you. You turn around and see the dark haired man coming out of the steaming bathroom with a towel around his waist. He doesn't even notice you because he's rubbing his hair dry with another towel.

When you clear your throat, he freezes and rips the towel off his head, grinning broadly when he sees you.

"Hey y/n what's up?" He puts the towel around his neck and stands casually in front of you. You're a little distracted by the sight of him. A few drops of water roll down his muscles… You take a deep breath and close your eyes quickly.

This is nothing you haven't seen before, girl…

"Get dressed and come to my room, we have something to discuss." And without letting him answer, you walk out of his room.

If you had looked at him again, you would have gone insane. Even if it was only for a moment, the sight of him has carved itself into your brain. The way his wet black hair fell and clung to his face and neck. The towel that was just barely on his hips but so deep that you could clearly see his waistline. His slightly reddened face… he must have had a hot shower.

Mhmhm.. Having a soaking.. hot shower with Ace? You bet that would be fucking enjoyable…

You bite your lower lip and grin to yourself as you make your way back to your room. You don't even recognize yourself, since when do you only think about sex? But you can't stop having these thoughts about him either.

"Why are you grinning so stupidly to yourself? That's scary, stop it y/n…" Marco nudges you lightly with his shoulder, so you look up at him.

"Nothing…" you say with a convincing voice but Marco watches you warily. You walk quietly across the deck side by side, his gaze stern on your face and he snorts a little. You stop and put your hands lightly in the air, like; what's your problem, dumbass?

He turns to face you. His gaze is getting on your nerves… He always looks like that when he knows you've done something wrong or are hiding something. You cross your arms, if he wants to get on your nerves, let him talk.

"I saw you come out of Ace's room…" He raises his eyebrows and approaches you.

"You told me he was in his room. I asked you where he was or have you already forgotten, duh?" You roll your eyes. His interrogation is poor... He looks at you a little surprised.

"Come on y/n, you know what I'm referring to…" - "Nah, no clue what you're talking about." Bored, you look down at your fingernails.

"You like him, admit it." he points his finger at you. The question annoys you. Why does he even care?

"So what?" you put one arm on your hip. Is he being a big brother now? Watch out, soon comes the love talk…

"AHA, I knew it!" he raises his other hand and points both fingers at you, making you laugh.

"Listen, Ace is a really good guy, but if he's mean to you, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll help you sort it out…" you snort a little and shake your head, putting your hand on your arm. There it was the love talk...

"You know, Ace wasn't the problem…" you look around slightly anxious, to see if anyone could hear and continue quietly. "…It was me."

"You?" He leans back a little surprised.

"Yes, me…" you look around in panic because he was getting a bit too loud.

"Listen, now is not a good time. I'll explain later, but right now I have to get back. I just wanted to pick up Ace to discuss the plans for Dressrosa but he just got out of the shower…" You falter a little as you remember the sight of him… Marco misunderstands your facial expression and reacts with disgust.

"Ughh save me the details…" You give him a mean look

"It wasn't like that at all! I just briefly told him to get dressed and come to my room… That's it!!!" You're still not that convincing in Marco's eyes.

"Still, you were grinning quite obviously to yourself…"

You groan in annoyance.

"Fine! I was grinning because Ace was standing in front of me in a TOWEL… and I just had to think about that. Happy?!" - "Ah no stop!" He puts his hands over his eyes as if to protect himself from the pictures.

"It's your own fault!" Stubbornly, you stride past him and flee to your room.

You close the door behind you and take a deep breath. You actually have other things to do right now than deal with something like this.

On your desk, you spread out a map of Dressrosa and pin a few locations of interest. You have kept a neat notebook of your travels. You wrote down everything your ears could pick up, even if it had nothing specifically to do with your mission, but based on your experience, it might come in handy again.

You don't know much about Dressrosa itself, only that Doflamingo is the king. But what you do know about Doflamingo is, that he is said to be the man behind the name 'Joker' and runs the black market in various ways. You had heard people talking about it, apparently customers, and their words matched Doflamingo perfectly.

Whitebeard became aware of him through one of your reports from Alabasta. As mentioned, your ears are everywhere… If it turns out that he is the broker, you should know about it. It could be a chance to eliminate an important role in the world. Before, there was only the name, a character who supplies your enemies with resources. Now you have a suspect, so you have to turn Dressrosa upside down.

But it's a difficult game. First you have to find out where it all goes down as well as discover all players involved.

You look intently at your little notes. That's going to be a bit difficult. Where should you start? You don't have a single contact in the area.

You try to remember what people said about the King of Dressrosa… He is said to be quite extravagant and a man of pleasure. He's also one of the seven Shichibukai and works with the World Government… The world government doesn't like you guys but you also have your ways to maintain your control and this time your mission is to gain control of the black market, to destroy it.

You are responsible for gathering enough information to get the upper hand and then Whitebeard sends out his divisions.

The sickening face of Doflamingo appears before your eyes. He seems to be doing a good job as king and Dressrosa is a popular destination for spring and summer…

After meeting him only a few times, you are certain that he is in fact a horrible tyrant. He is an unpredictable and dangerous man. You'll have to be careful since you don't have any insiders…

A knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." you call to Ace and turn to the wall where your pinboard is. There you've put up all the 'family members' with their most important details and you consider who could be a serious threat.

He steps in front of your desk and examines your detailed and neat plan. Small notes are attached to the map, where the important places are pinned.

"I see we have a lot to discuss." You turn around with your hand on your chin.

"We'll be busy for a while… I'm very sure he's the broker." You present him a report of the shipping traffic, from Dressrosa. Ships from many different kingdoms dock and stay for only a few days at most. Passenger ships dock and there are always far less passengers arriving than the ship could accommodate. Ace runs through the digits and you can see in his face how he compares the numbers.

"I agree with you about the ships of the other kingdoms, the length of stay is suspiciously short… but long enough to make a deal… but the passenger ships?" He looks up from the document at you.

"Slave trade." you say confidently, pointing to a line in the report.

"According to the ship's blueprint, it can carry 25 passengers, but strangely enough, only 20 tickets are sold per day…" - "You're pretty good at this shit…" Ace grins at you with his signature smile.

"I know that's only two things, but I suspect Doflamingo is running his trades on Dressrosa and Father wants us to confirm that and gather enough information to take him down." - "That would get some big enemies off our backs, looking at the list of countries…" You put your hands on the table and smile at him with satisfaction. Ace has a keen eye… There are some annoying enemies, of the Whitebeard pirates, on the list…

"Considering the fact that these countries frequently dock in Dressrosa, they seem to do a regular trade. If Doflamingo is taken down, that will be the end of them too."

"I like the sound of this… What are we going to do first?" You turn to the overview of the members of the Donquixote family.

"We should gather information about all the opponents in the area and find out who we really should avoid." Ace stands next to you to read through the notes relating to the members.

"There were places marked on your map, what are they?" You both turn back to the table and your shoulders touch. Your eyes are focused on the map and you point your finger at two dots on the outer edge of the map

"These are the two public harbors and we will dock at one of them after we arrive with a passenger ship." - "You want to go on a passenger ship?" he looks down at you in surprise. "Yes, of course. Being conspicuous is usually the least obvious, isn't it?" you grin playfully at him.

"Being undercover doesn't just mean operating in the background, it means infiltrating. We board the ship on another island as normal passengers and travel to Dressrosa for our honeymoon… remember?"

You smile at him. Ace certainly didn't think you'd be fine with Whitebeard's suggestion, but it's a pretty safe move per se. After all, you don't have any allies there to make it easier for you to get into the country. The fact that you're posing as a newly married couple is something new for you, but it's actually a pretty good cover.

"We have to dress up and act like a natural couple, of course, and for the sake of the mission, I'm prepared to act accordingly." You've already slipped into every role and fooled people. As a woman, you have your very own tricks. Men are so easy to influence when the right woman is sitting in front of him. You're used to getting close to men and playing your role. As soon as they eat out of your hand, you shoot their back.

Since you're a good actress, your feelings for Ace won't stop you from doing a great job.

"Oho, you're ready to act accordingly?" He leans down slightly but you don't move a bit.

"So does that mean we might be kissing?" Despite your smile, you furrow your eyebrows a little. He's naughty.

"Depends on the situation, of course." You remain professional, but even your cool manner doesn't discourage Ace. He's obviously staring at your lips. When you start to speak, he quickly looks you in the eye.

"Since I'm a fan of a good show, I've also chosen a good place for us to hide." You look at the map.

"The spot next to the Coloseum is a hotel. This hotel is famous for being romantic. It's known to be constantly booked out for newlyweds or couples…" - "The famous Hotel Mirabell???!" he looks at you, a little shocked, as he reads the name on the note under the pin.

"Are you somehow filthy rich?" He grabs the note to check whether he might have misread it, but it's true. The luxury Hotel Mirabell is the most popular hotel of all. You toss your hair back arrogantly.

"You know Ace, I've stolen from quite a few people in the casinos of Alabasta over the last few years…" He interrupts you because he bursts out laughing.

"I have to say that's pretty impressive. You're one hell of a pickpocket if you can afford a hotel room like that!" You blush and try to hide behind your hand, but Ace stops you. Without putting up a fight, you let him do his thing and show your flustered side.

"The Mirabell Hotel has a casino, I bet we could meet some important guests there since it's popular with the royalty… besides that, you should teach me a few tricks on robbing people…" - "Some other time, but not on Dressrosa. That's too risky. If we get caught, we can pack our bags straight away because our identity will be exposed." Your mind is back on your mission. As tempting as it sounds to hit the casinos with Ace, you should keep your hands off the gambling and rather observe.

"Too bad, but you're in command."

You discuss a few more details for a while… On which island you will take the passenger ship to Dressrosa, how you will dress up and what you should do for the first few days. After it's been quiet for a while, you realize how late it is.

Ace lies on your sofa with your notes and studies their details and your eyes meet from time to time. Ace doesn't mind when you catch him looking at you and gives one of those little smirks. Although he irritates you so much, you refuse to get flustered.

You close your notebook with a dull sound and get up from your desk. You think you've planned everything you need to do and, as it's quite late, want to snuggle up in your warm bed.

"Hey Ace, it's getting late, we should stop now and go to bed," you say as you grab your sleeping clothes from your closet.

"Oh is it that late already?" he looks out of the window in surprise. It's already pitch black.

"I think we've done enough and should present the plan tomorrow to Dad and start the mission." You change behind a room divider and come out in your sleeping clothes. Ace's eyes follow you as you walk past him in just a shirt that barely covers your ass. You wait for him at your bedroom door and Ace says his goodbyes, wishing you nice dreams.

"Sweet dreams to you too, Ace." He looks you up and down, your shirt is short enough to tickle his imagination.

"Thanks, I'm surely going to have them."

His brazen response makes your face flush and you slam the door before your face turns completely red.

But Ace, who is still standing in front of your door, has indeed seen the blush on your face. He can tell from your reaction that you like him. You're the one who's fooling herself.

He smiles to himself. The red on your cheeks suits you, he thinks it's a shame that you want to hide it so badly...

Masterlist

A/N: bruh. It's 4 in the morning… why am I not tired??? I hope you enjoyed it. See you next time ♡

➽ Next chapter

[sleekervae]

The Bride [0.7]

Masterlist

A/N: sorry I've been away for so long guys, I hit a bit of a depression when I came home but I'm slowly coming out of it. And ofc any time Tom's in a cowboy hat catch me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure lol.

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Billy moves to Lincoln

Warnings: cursing, slander, mentions of shooting, anxiety and paranoia

Word Count: 5,222

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

The town of Lincoln was a booming, dusty town with a strong Mexican population. Despite its small size it was rapidly developing in housing, productivity, and opportunity. And where there was opportunity, ambition came sniffing around.

The first opportunity Lawrence P. Murphy saw was a monopoly; so many immigrant farmers eager to make a living, and he had the means to distribute their products to those who needed them. Of course, because he had been in the only game in town, no farmer could complain when Murphy began to slash their earnings, because where were they supposed to go? Who was going to compensate them?

Well, John Tunstall saw his own opportunity: completion.

Same distribution, same stores, better wages, better human rights. And when the farmers learned of what Tunstall had to offer, they of course clamoured to sell their grain, veggies, and dry goods to him instead of Murphy.

Another result of competition was jealousy... as well as greed... and then desperation.

Murphy became so desperate to keep his stocks, so desperate to hold on to the power and control he had within Lincoln, that he was willing to sub-contract criminals to keep the farmers in line. There was no real law in Lincoln, so again -- who was to stop him?

Seven had just struck the morning air, businesses were opening and children were beginning their chores for the day. It was a simple, ordinary day, up until an unfamiliar horse strided into town. On the back of said horse was a woman, a striking stranger donning a long canvas coat and a black, wide-brimmed hat. The horse matched her facade, black in its coat with a single white sock on its back leg, trotting away peacefully under the patient guidance of its rider.

Some of the locals stopped what they were doing, it wasn't often they'd see women riding horses by themselves. They'd never seen a strange woman ride into town, period; they were typically always accompanied by a man.

And yet, the town of Lincoln would come to find there was nothing typical about this woman.

They watched curiously as she stopped before John Tunstall's store. Dismounting her horse, she was much shorter than she appeared, however she walked with great confidence up the stairs of the store front and waltzed right in.

A store clerk glanced up, giving her his own curious gaze as she bypassed all the available product and approached the desk, "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

"Why yes," she smiled sweetly for him, lifting her hat off her head and letting her long brown hair cascade over her shoulders, "I heard Mr. Tunstall was hiring for a book keeper. I'm here to apply," she replied simply, plucking her riding gloves off her fingers one by one.

The clerk nodded, "I see. Do you have experience?"

"Yes, sir. Six years worth," her smile widened, the tinge of her southern accent was so effortlessly charming that the clerk couldn't help but be taken with her.

"Six years?" he queried. He couldn't have put this girl at more than twenty-years-old.

"That's right," she nodded, never wavering in her confidence.

She seemed sweet enough, the clerk didn't see the harm in her, "Well, Mr. Tunstall won't be back in town for another few weeks, but I'd be happy to give you the run through, if you'd like?" he offered.

"I'd appreciate that," she nodded, "Mr...?"

"Charlie works just fine," he stepped out from the counter to lead her into the back, "And your name?"

"Johana," she replied, reaching out to shake his hand, "Johana Delile,"

Working for Mr. Murphy brought in a lot of money, and for the most part, it was easy money. Intimidate the competition, disrupt supply chains, and remind the locals who held the monopoly in town.

That last part didn't sit well with Billy. Jesse, however, seemed to thrive on it.

The locals they were threatening, the supply chains they were disrupting, were typically Mexican families. Immigrants who had journeyed up North in hopes of achieving the American Dream. They were good people who just wanted to make an honest living. People who, despite their contracts with Murphy, were giving their supply to Tunstall because he simply paid better.

If anyone deserved a shot at making it in this country, it was them. Billy understood that better than any of Jesse's boys could, better than Murphy ever would. Murphy's solution was muscle and ammo, and despite how much Billy tried to keep violence out of it, he could only play peacemaker for so long before something snapped.

Billy found himself torn. He knew the pain of struggling for a better life, the desperation that came with it. He saw the fear in the eyes of the families they intimidated, and it ate at him. He could almost hear Eleanor's voice, urging him to do the right thing, to find another way.

But here he was, stuck in a cycle of survival and compromise, his hands tied by the very people he was trying to distance himself from. Each day brought a new challenge, a new moral line to cross, and Billy felt the weight of it pressing down on him, threatening to crush whatever remnants of his old self he had left.

Today was another warm one, summer would be coming to an end soon yet the heat was insistent on sticking around. Murphy had tasked Jesse with another intimidation tactic, Jesse naturally dragged Billy and Pat with him.

They made a good trio: Jesse was the aggressive one, hyper, quick on the tongue and on the draw, Pat, with his distinguished way of dress gave him some air of power and authority, people respected him. And Billy, well Billy's sensitivity came into play quite effectively. Jesse knew how much Billy didn't want blood spilled, he could tell from the moment he stepped foot into town. So Billy was naturally the last line of threat, encouraging the locals to wise up and respect Murphy's business.

Today however would prove to be just a tad different.

It wasn't the first time the trio had stormed into Tunstall's store, tearing through bags of grain, kicking bags of flour, making a real mess of the place. The clerk in charge stood helpless, unarmed, and outmanned. This was exactly what Jesse and his boys expected as they strode into the store. Jesse’s aggression could be sensed a mile away, and it was enough to make the poor store clerk quake in his boots.

"I thought we gave you a warning last time!" Jesse hollered, his boot connecting with another bag of grain, spilling its contents across the floor.

"And what warning would that be?" the clerk stammered, trying to stand his ground. Billy felt a pang of sympathy for the guy, along with a growing annoyance at Jesse’s antics.

"Shape up and ship out," Jesse replied with a sneer. "You've got no chance at competing with Murphy. He knows it, you know it, and I'm sure at this point Tunstall knows it too."

Pat chimed in, "You can’t even get the same quality product. It’s no competition."

Billy lingered in the back, staying quiet but ready should things escalate. They almost did with a farmer and his family the other day, and Billy had barely managed to reel Jesse back in, like a rabid animal on a leash.

"Where's Tunstall at?" Jesse demanded, hands on his hips.

"He won’t be back for a few weeks," the clerk said, trying to sound confident.

"You told me that last time," Jesse scoffed.

"Last time was the same," the clerk replied. "Mr. Tunstall’s a busy man, you know..."

A smirk tugged at Jesse’s lips. He glanced at Pat, then at Billy, before turning back to the clerk. "I bet he is. So damn busy, he leaves some gawky kid to run his store instead of being here himself. Real brave man,"

Just as the tension reached its peak, the door to the store swung open, and Billy swore he was seeing a ghost. Given the dumfounded look on Jesse's face, he felt the same. In walked Eleanor—or a more refined, polished version of her. Billy finally sat up from the crate he was resting on, studying her hard as she sauntered into the hostile room. Her hair was pinned up nicely, her slacks were traded for a nice dress, and her face was clean, free of any trace of stress or depression.

"Sam, you need help out here? I heard some bags fall over—"

She took in the scene with a quick glance, her eyes locking with Billy's first, then shifting to Jesse. The same gobsmacked expression hit her only for a moment; her eyes went wide, and Billy could hear her sharp inhale. Nevertheless, she remained cool and stoic, standing beside the clerk with a calm authority that commanded the room.

"What’s goin' on here?" Eleanor asked, her voice steady and her Carolinian accent heavier than before.

Jesse straightened up, stepping forward with caution, "Eleanor?" he muttered, but the edge in his voice had dulled.

She cocked a brow, glancing at Sam with curiosity before turning back to Jesse, "Who's Eleanor?" she asked plainly.

Pat himself was confused, glancing between the two men. Obviously, there was something about this girl that had them both as white as sheets.

Jesse scoffed in disbelief, "Don't play around, Ellie. It's not funny," he told her.

"Do you see me laughing?" she sassed back, one hand going on her hip, "Now I asked you a question, you still have yet to answer me,"

"They were just leaving, Jo," Sam informed her.

"Jo?" Billy finally spoke, coming to stand in line with Jesse and Pat. There were so many emotions flooding through him; relief because she was alive and appeared relatively unharmed, confused and hurt because she obviously recognized him and Jesse, but whatever role she was taking on now, she obviously couldn't let slip that she knew them.

"Johana," she said simply, "You boys work for Mr. Murphy, don't ya?" she cocked her head, staring directly at Billy now.

Billy took a hard swallow before answering, "That's right, ma'am," Jesse shot him a glare, pissed and annoyed that Billy was playing into her cock and bull story.

A pitiful smile crossed her face, "Then you don't belong here. Either buy somethin', or get out," she huffed, "We got a special on dried apricots this week,"

Jesse was still in disbelief, but he could register enough to see how she was talking to him. He could see which side she was playing for, and that automatically made her his enemy.

"You really wanna' do this, Eleanor?" he asked, "This is what you do to me?"

Eleanor simply shook her head, "Now listen, I don't know who this Eleanor girl is, but God save her soul should you ever find her. Now, I told you to leave,"

Jesse scowled menacingly, anger boiling inside him now, "Or what?" he took a step closer, "What the hell are you gonna' do?"

Billy watched anxiously as a viscous, petty smile crossed her face. He could see how much Eleanor was enjoying this, toying with Jesse, riling him up. But he couldn't have predicted what she did next.

Without warning, she let out an ear-piercing, murderous scream. The type of scream women let out when they knew they were in real trouble, the type of scream that townsfolk would drop everything for and run if it meant protecting their own. And that's just what happened, already Billy could hear people making their way to Tunstall's store. He knew exactly how it would look when they came in here, and he was eager to avoid as much trouble as he could.

They had to get out, now.

"Alright, alright! We get it!" Billy stepped forward, his hands out to try and calm her, "You win!"

Eleanor immediately stopped screaming, that same smile still plastered to her face. It was almost as though she had been taken on by another spirit, this wasn't the Eleanor that Billy had come to know. Even Sam was shaken as he cowered further back behind the desk.

"I'm glad you see it my way," she told him, "Now either run along, and I make up a ruse about a mouse runnin' loose around here. Or the townspeople can come in and I'll tell 'em all about how you tried to manhandle a poor, defenceless, little woman," her smile was overtaken by that all too familiar pout that Billy and Jesse came to know.

That murderous glare returned to Jesse's face, his fists balling at his sides. Of course, he couldn't do anything here, not now anyway. Billy wouldn't put it past him to return come closing time, though.

"Alright, we're leaving," Pat agreed, tugging Jesse by his jacket arm, "But Mr. Murphy's gett'n real tired of losing his suppliers,"

"Well, maybe if Murphy paid his suppliers properly, he wouldn't be having a problem?" Sam butted in.

"Money talks well, after all," Eleanor nodded coyly.

Jesse stepped back with the boys, his glare never leaving Eleanor's, "Don't get too comfortable, Johana. We'll be back,"

"Gimme' a head's up next time!" she called after them, "I'll put some coffee on!"

Billy grabbed Jesse and dragged him out the door, just as a few locals came rushing into the store to see what all the screaming was about. Sam and Eleanor -- or Johana, as they came to know her -- quickly quelled their fears with the story of a rogue rat, sending them all on their way again. All they were left with now was a giant mess to clean up.

"That was wonderful, Jo," Sam awed, "I don't know how you got it in you!"

"What do ya' mean, Sam?" she asked.

"You just stand up to them so well! That first guy was all up in your face and you never flinched!" he replied

"Well, it's simple," she told him as they began to clean up, "Don't let 'em see you scared, that's how they know they got power over you,"

Sam nodded, "S'pose that makes sense... were you scared?"

"Of those knuckle heads? Please," she scoffed.

"Why'd they keep calling you 'Eleanor', though?"

Eleanor simply shrugged, not letting any hint of stress show in her expression, "Hell if I know. Maybe I just got one of 'em faces?"

Sam began to laugh, "Maybe you look too much like his girlfriend that took off on 'im?" well, he almost hit the nail on the head...

"Maybe so," Eleanor chuckled back, though the thought of being Jesse's girl absolutely repulsed her, "I'm gonna grab the broom. You try to salvage whatcha' can,"

"Sounds good!"

Eleanor walked into the back of the store, her calm facade crumbling the moment she was out of sight. Her hand flew to her mouth, muffling her labored breathing. Her chest tightened like a bowstring as she fell back against the wall, eyes wide with panic. Jesse was in town. Billy was in town. They were working for the competition. If they were feeling spiteful, her cover was definitely blown.

She slid down the wall, her legs shaking beneath her, the reality of the situation hitting her like a freight train. Memories flooding back like a dam bursting, the life she had tried so hard to escape was back to haunt her. She pressed her palm against her chest, willing herself to calm down.

Footsteps echoed from the front of the store, each one sending a jolt of fear through her. Sam would surely be back to check on her if she wasn't out soon. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, fighting to regain control. She couldn’t let him see her like this, couldn't risk him finding out the truth.

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor straightened up, forcing herself to stand tall. She brushed her hands down her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles, and went to fetch the broom. She had fought too hard to create this new life, and she wasn’t about to let the Seven Rivers Gang destroy it.

Billy had never seen Jesse so furious. The moment he stepped out of the store, his boots stomped heavily across the gravel path. He kicked at a wooden beam supporting the building’s awning with such force that Pat worried it might come crashing down on them.

"That bitch!" Jesse roared, his voice echoing through the quiet town. "After everything we did for her, that's how she repays us?" He turned to Billy, eyes blazing with rage. "She say something to you? About her little plan?"

Billy flinched at Jesse’s snarl. "N-No!" he shook his head swiftly, meeting Jesse’s intense glare. "She must’ve come along here on her way from Rosario!"

"Like hell!"

Pat stepped in, anxious to calm Jesse and avoid drawing more attention. "Who is she, anyhow?" he asked.

"A little runaway whore I took pity on a year ago! Stupid me for thinking she’d be loyal!" Jesse snapped. "I let her outta my sight for one day —"

"Hey, c’mon!" Billy interrupted. "Don’t be that way, Jesse. You don’t know what she had to put up with out there!"

"Oh, and you do?" Jesse scoffed. He stopped in his tracks, stepping into Billy’s space, eyes narrowing. "You'll cling to anything to hang onto her, won’t you?" he growled, spit flying from his lips.

Billy held his ground. "That’s not true —"

"Are you sure? Because now my worry is you'll take one look at her, she’ll bat her big pretty eyes at you, and you’ll lose focus," Jesse huffed.

"And you won’t?" Billy shot back. "You knew her longer."

"And for reasons beyond me, she likes you better," Jesse replied, bitterness lacing his words. "Don’t fall for it, Billy! She’s a snake! A con artist! And we walked right into her next scheme!"

Billy clenched his fists, struggling to keep his composure. "Do you even hear yourself?" he asked, his voice tight with frustration. He didn’t want to believe Jesse, but the doubt gnawed at him viciously.

"You heard her in there! She's Johana. For now, anyway," Jesse spat, whirling around and striding away. Billy and Pat jogged to keep up.

"Jesse, what're you gonna do?" Billy asked, a knot of worry tightening in his chest. He had a sinking feeling about Jesse’s intentions.

"What do you think I'm gonna do? How do you think Tunstall's gonna feel knowing he's got a con woman running his store?" Jesse's voice was sharp, filled with a venom that made Billy flinch.

Pat grabbed Jesse’s sleeve, pulling him to a stop. "Hold on, now," he said firmly, forcing Jesse to face him. "Listen, I understand how pissed off you boys are. But how are you gonna look to Tunstall -- hell, how are you gonna look to Murphy -- if you go and accuse this girl of being who you say she is without any proof? Now, if she had her name and face on a poster, that would be one thing."

Billy nodded, desperate to keep the situation from spiraling. "Yeah, and exposing her doesn't serve us any purpose, Jesse," he added, his voice steady but pleading.

Jesse's jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with a mix of hurt and anger. He knew they were right, even if he hated to admit it. As much as he felt betrayed by Eleanor, he had to stay focused on their mission. She -- Johana -- whoever she was, couldn’t derail their plans.

"Fine," he snapped, ripping his arm from Pat’s grip and straightening his jacket. "Leave her be. She'll be out of a job in no time, anyhow." He then turned to Billy, his eyes narrowing. "And if I find out you go anywhere near her..." His words were harsh, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes -- a hint of the pain he felt, buried beneath the anger.

"I won't," Billy assured him, though the words felt like ash in his mouth.

As they fell in step, Pat attempted to shift the conversation to something trivial. Billy nodded along, but his mind was elsewhere, a heavy lump forming in his stomach. The sight of Eleanor had stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite shake. Relief at seeing her alive and well was overshadowed by a gnawing anxiety, questions spiraling uncontrollably in his mind.

Why was she here? Was she safe? What had she gone through to end up in Tunstall's store? His heart ached with the thought of her composed, cleaned up appearance in the store clashing with the Eleanor he remembered. She was pristine and lady-like, a true Southern Belle not quite herself, and if he hadn't seen her in the store there was a good chance Billy might not have recognized her at all.

Billy’s gaze drifted back to Jesse, who was now engaged in a conversation with Pat. Jesse’s anger was palpable, but Billy could see the undercurrent of hurt beneath it. He knew Jesse felt betrayed, but he also knew how deeply he had cared for Eleanor. It was a mess, all of it, and Billy was caught in the middle, unsure of what to do or how to feel.

If there was one thing Billy could never do well, it was listening. He knew he'd pay dearly if Jesse or anyone found out where he was going.

He hadn't planned to leave the party early, but Dolan Murphy couldn't help but push Billy to perform. And perform he did. Over ten targets shot down in less than a minute—a personal best some would reckon. Despite their admiration, despite the clear impression Billy had made, he could also recognize the fear in their faces. Good. In a way, he wanted Murphy, Jesse, even the U.S. Army General to fear him.

With every shot, he reflected on how he ended up here, his mission to abolish such a corrupt system quelled when he realized he was suddenly just as wrapped up in corruption as everyone else. Dear God, if his mother saw him now...

In the wake of his demonstration, Billy left alcohol spilled, glass shattered, and a small fire breaking out over a barn threshold. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but stop and watch the U.S. Army General swig down his whiskey while he chatted with the town sheriff. He recognized the colors he wore, the brim of his hat, the markings on his sleeve. He was of the same battalion as Eleanor's husband—or would-be husband, that is. If he was here, he wondered if that same captain was here too.

He wondered if Eleanor knew that...

His feet moved before his mind could catch up, carrying him away from the chaos he'd left behind and towards the edge of town. He knew the risks, knew Jesse’s wrath would be waiting for him if he got caught. But he had to see her, had to find out if she was okay.

As he walked, the night air cooled his burning skin, but did nothing to calm the storm inside him. He remembered the fear in the eyes of those he'd impressed with his shooting skills, the way they looked at him like he was something to be wary of. It was a twisted sort of satisfaction, knowing he could instill that kind of fear. Yet it was also a bitter reminder of how far he'd strayed from the man he once wanted to be.

His mother would be ashamed, and Eleanor—he didn’t know what she’d think. She might assure him it was okay, might try to understand, but the truth was he didn’t even understand himself anymore. The lines between right and wrong had blurred, leaving him adrift in a sea of confusion and guilt.

Billy stopped at the edge of the road, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of her. He didn't know what he was hoping for, but he knew he couldn’t walk away without trying.

The roads were quiet at this time of night, a welcome reprieve for Eleanor on her evening walk home. She still didn't have a "home" per se, but Tunstall paid her just enough to stay in a nicer boarding house. No holes in the curtains, no rotten bed mattresses, and locks on doors that worked properly.

It had been days since Jesse and Billy ambushed the store, and yet she was still as shaken as though it happened moments ago. Every step she took outside, her eyes scanned the faces in the street. Every glance out a window, she wondered if they were watching her, plotting something. Sam, bless his heart, was still oblivious to any stress she was under as he continued to run the storefront, leaving Eleanor to fret over the books and accounts in the back.

She had to wonder if God had a twisted sense of humor, or perhaps he was just taunting her at this point. Taunting her with Billy, always keeping him just within reach, but never enough to have him fully. Not that she ever thought she stood a chance, not out here, anyway. She had to wonder how he became so mixed up in such nasty business. When did he come back to the gang? Did Jesse feel more inclined to let him return because she disappeared?

Ditching Jesse was a move she knew she could never recover from in his eyes, but she seized her opportunity to escape the first moment she could. After all, there was opportunity for her in Lincoln; she never stood a chance with Jesse.

Not even with Billy.

As she walked, the cool night air did little to calm the storm inside her. Her mind was a whirlpool of memories and questions, each one more painful than the last. The image of Billy's face, the anger and confusion in his eyes when he saw her in the store, haunted her. She wondered if he thought of her as often as she thought of him, if he missed her the way she missed him.

But then she reminded herself of the reality. Billy was tangled in a web of violence and lawlessness, a world she had desperately tried to escape. A world she could never fully belong to, even if her heart stubbornly refused to let go of him.

There was a palpable tension in the air, a feeling that prickled at the back of Eleanor's neck. The sensation of being watched, of unseen eyes tracking her every move, gnawed at her. She tried to shake it off, attributing it to her frayed nerves, but the feeling only grew stronger.

The street lamps cast long, eerie shadows, and every rustle of leaves or creak of a wooden plank seemed amplified in the stillness. She quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest, every instinct screaming at her to get to safety. Her eyes darted around, catching glimpses of movement in the periphery, shadows that seemed to loom and retreat.

She could feel her breath quickening, a tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with the physical exertion of walking. Every step felt heavy, as if the weight of unseen gazes bore down on her. The normally comforting sounds of the night now seemed sinister, the hoot of an owl making her jump, the distant bark of a dog sending a shiver down her spine.

Eleanor's mind raced with possibilities, each more frightening than the last. Was it Jesse? Had he sent someone to follow her, lurking in the shadows to catch her off guard? She shook her head, trying to dispel the paranoia, but it clung to her, a dark cloud she couldn't escape.

Reaching the boarding house, Eleanor fumbled for her keys, her hands trembling as she pushed through the doors. The clerk was gone for the night, the sign-in book left open on the desk, and a dim candle burning at the end of its wick was the only source of light within.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, making the empty room feel even more eerie. Eleanor’s pulse quickened as she hurried towards the stairs, her breath hitching when she heard the door creak open behind her. Panic surged through her veins. Without a second thought, she reached into her bag, her fingers closing around the familiar handle of her switchblade.

She spun around, blade ready, eyes wide with fear and apprehension. But then she froze, the tension in her body melting into a mixture of relief and confusion. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim candle light, was Billy.

His eyes met hers, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before settling into a wary calm. He stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him, as if to show he meant no harm. Eleanor’s heart pounded in her chest, not from fear anymore, but from the sudden, unexpected rush of seeing him here, now. She slowly lowered the blade, but didn’t put it away, her mind racing with questions and emotions she wasn’t ready to face.

“Billy,” she whispered, the name barely escaping her lips, a mixture of relief and disbelief in her voice. She took a cautious step back, still not entirely sure what to make of his sudden appearance.

"Eleanor," he nodded, speaking softly, "Or... am I talking to Johana?"

She scoffed quietly, slipping the switchblade back into her bag, the tension flooding out of her shoulders, "Come on, quick. Before someone sees you," she whispered, fluttering her fingers to follow her. Without a second thought, Billy obeyed, Jessie's warnings be damned. He was just so glad to see her, to see her ruse falling for him.

She led him down the hall to a corner suite, unlocking the door to reveal a newer, cleaner, intact room. Billy took it all in as she drew the curtains, his eyes lingering on the small details that spoke volumes about her new life. The floral wallpaper, the neatly made bed, the organized desk—it all painted a picture of someone trying to build a semblance of stability. But the shadows in her eyes, the tension in her movements, told another story.

"Nice place you got here," he noted.

"I suppose," she shrugged as she lit the gas gamp, casting a warm glow in the room, "Bit of a step up for me, I'll admit," he noted how her voice softened, her accent wasn't so strong anymore.

"It suits you," he then glanced over her appearance, her long corduroy skirt, the matching vest with the flouncy white shirt underneath, "The whole get up suits you," She looked like a more grown up version of herself that she'd fit into with just a few more years.

"You don't have to flatter so hard," Eleanor went for her closet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, "Care for some?"

"Nah, I'm alright," he took a seat on the edge of the bed while she poured herself a glass anyway. The warm glow of the gas lamp cast a soft light on her face, highlighting the worry lines etched into her features.

"So..." she began as she sat across from him, her voice steady but low, "Who wants to go first?"

[zazerrrr]

heavyweight

a oneshot for one of my ocs thats on an oc blog im a mod for 😊i have no idea what to tag for this lol... its my first oneshot (criticism will be worshipped)

^^ heres the blog! its currently in its early stages but you can find more Milo and other characters on here once we get our stuff going

some things may not make sense just yet because the story this OC is in is not finished yet!! but i hope you can still enjoy it

contains: alcohol, hangover

==============

Milo is a heavy drinker.

he often finds himself losing track of time - and quite frankly, everything else around him when he drinks. he "occasionally" drinks himself into a stupor - "occasionally" meaning more times than he'd like to admit in front of others. who could blame him, though? any adult under his circumstances would turn to drinking as some form of a coping mechanism. if anything, drinking was the least dangerous thing he could've been doing to relieve his weary soul of the stress and pressure forced upon him unfairly. it wasn't like it was his fault, anyway.

it took a lot for Milo to get just a little tipsy, let alone passed out drunk. so its hard to imagine a scenario where he'd drink enough to find himself in particularly memorable situations with women, you'd think. but, no - its happened a lot. a lot more than Milo is comfortable with admitting.

his brain, a mess of jumbled thoughts, almost resembled the walls of the stereotypical mental hospital: scribbles of different colors permanently etched into the walls of his crowded mind. the thick clouds of smoke that fog his mind completely drown out any rational thoughts out of his head, leaving him completely powerless at his own hands.

or so he'd think. in an almost comical way, alcohol serves as a sort of 'knight in shining armor for him' - clown him all you want, but that's his way of coping. a grown adult like him shouldn't have to depend on others.

==============

Milo found himself wrapped up in the thick sheets of a bed he wasn't familiar with. his crusted eyes, pried open by the thin streaks of sunlight peering through the window, felt as heavy as lead. he found it difficult to move for a minute, before he finally regained the strength in his limbs.

morning light shone, gently coaxing Milo out of the bed. his vision, slightly foggy, took a minute to get accustomed to his new surroundings. he glanced to his side as he slowly sat up, a pile of hair sprawled out on the pillow with what looked to be a sleeping woman underneath the lump on the sheets. "so it was one of those nights," he thought to himself absentmindedly as his gaze wandered across the room, journeying along the ceiling and walls.

the girl's room didn't contain anything notable, besides the framed picture beside him on the bedside table. he turned his neck, which was slightly stiff as his muscles tensed at the sensation. he winced, his hand darting up to the back of his own neck to soothe it. his hand trailed down his neck to itch his back before it trailed up to his hair, tousling it and noticing how dry it felt upon his fingertips. he made a mental note to himself: wash his hair when he gets home.

his attention shifts back to the framed photo perched on the edge of the table, which showcased two faces. one of them was presumably the girl currently sleeping next to him, her dark brown hair framing her gentle features and a light hue of pink splashed on her cheeks as the second face beside her was a blonde-haired guy pressing a kiss to her face. Milo wasn't one to pry nor jump to conclusions, but something told him he should probably get out of this girl's apartment before he gets caught in something he shouldn't be a part of.

as the warm embrace of sleep finally melted the last of itself off of his shoulders, Milo's muscles felt somewhat sore as he swung his legs off the side of the bed. he felt his legs tense up, accompanied by the stiff creaking of the muscle on his entire body and he held back a pained wince.

as he stood up from the engulfing comfort of the mattress, he walked along the side of the bed before crouching down at the foot to pick up his clothes. he woke up in boxers only, sleeping in a bed that wasn't his own - a genius wasn't needed to infer just what happened last night. Milo himself couldn't care less, however. as long as he woke up first and made sure the girl was okay, he was good to go.

as he stood up, he stretched his arms above his head with a lazy groan falling from his lips. he glanced over at the girl, who was still sleeping soundly on her side of the bed, curled up underneath the covers. he slipped his pants and shirt back on, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.

he stood over the bed, looking around the room for a few more moments as his mind began to wander. he felt... normal, oddly enough. he felt free. it was probably just the alcohol, but Milo was willing to take what he could get.

slipping on his jacket, the raised collar hung open and the broken zipper dangled from the side of it, bouncing up and down against his shirt as he walked. before he left, he quickly looked around for a piece of paper and something to write with. in a hasty chicken-scratch, he wrote:

"thanks, hope you're feeling alright. - Milo"

he looked at the note for a second, realizing that putting his name probably wasn't the best idea considering that both of them were nearly passed out drunk when they met. he quickly scratched out his name and replaced it with:

"thanks, hope you're feeling alright. - zipper"

the memories of last night were foggy and unclear, but he could vaguely remember curious fingers tugging at his open collar and inquiring about his broken zipper. he remembered the word 'zipper' rolling off of his tongue a lot that night - as well as heaps of shameless flirting from the girl's end - and decided she'd probably remember that word more than his actual name.

with that, he stuck it to the empty pillow that he slept on and flipped his collar up. he made a beeline to the door, keeping his hand on the doorknob before silently pushing it open. he knew the hangover would catch up to him sooner or later, so he thought it best to get home as soon as he could.

after a 15 minute uber ride, he found himself back within the familiarity of his own apartment and his own bed. he sat down on the edge, the mattress threatening to creak as his full weight sunk into it. he leaned forward, running his tired, slender fingers through his messy brown hair with several white strands sticking out here and there.

he laid himself down onto the bed, his pillows soft and warm as if it had been waiting for him this whole time. he felt a headache creeping up on him and groaned, the effects of his hangover quickly catching up to him as he closed his eyes and let himself succumb to illness and the consequences of his own drinking problem.

and as if on cue, the mess of loud thoughts and dark scribbles crept back into his head, rendering him helpless once more. he had a feeling he'd be having a long day, as well as an even longer night.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

158 of 2024

Created by chasingghosts

Are you better at science, maths or art?

Definitely science. This is why I have a degree in electrical engineering, after all.

Do you have any songs in your head at the moment?

Yeah, that mashup of Evanescence and Paradise Lost. Went out cool, honestly.

Do you ever get more than one song stuck in your head?

Almost all the time, and they rotate.

What is your favourite kind of cheese?

Gouda, but young.

Are you happy with your height? Would you change it if you could?

I wouldn't mind being a bit taller.

Did you ever call any teachers by their first name? Who?

Yeah, in my uni there's a habit of calling teachers by their first name.

How old were your parents when you were born?

Mum was 27, dad was 37.

Were you born in a hospital, or somewhere else?

In the hospital, but it took a few days, really. Eventually they had to perform C-section because my mum didn't have any birth cramps at all.

Do you often have doors held open for you?

No, I don't think so.

Have you ever shoplifted, even just once? What did you take?

Yeah, once. I stole a ring lol. Got caught, never again.

Have you ever witnessed someone else shoplifting? Did you say something?

No, I haven't.

Do you know anyone who volunteers a lot?

I don't think so.

Have you ever been cheated on? Tell me your story.

Yeah, by my first ex. He couldn't stand the fact I wasn't ready for sex at all. He was cheating on me with multiple people and he didn't even bother to hide it.

Which would you choose between choc chip cookies and oat & raisin cookies?

Raisins are disgusting, so can we please have some oat cookies without raisins?

Write the first person you think of whose name begins with T?

Timmy. I saw him at the security reception at work today.

When was the last time you got a haircut?

Long time ago. I'm trying to grow my hair longer again.

What did you have for dinner tonight, or last night if you haven't yet?

I haven't yet, last night it was Chinese takeaway.

Do you plan ahead for your dinners?

Not when we're alone. We only do it when our kid is with us.

Do you have a night of the week where you usually get takeout?

No, I do it whenever I fancy it.

Is your hair thick, thin, or somewhere in between?

Somewhere in between.

Are there many baby photos of you? Where are they kept?

No, I don't think there are any saved.

Are you the eldest child?

Yes, I am. I have a younger sister.

Have you ever worked with someone named Kelly?

No, but Kelly was one of my drivers when I was daily inpatient in rehabilitation ward in the hospital.

Have you ever been in the same class as someone named Emma?

No, I haven't.

Have you ever kissed someone named Luke?

No, never.

Do you have any neighbours with loud animals or children?

No, thankfully not anymore. I like kids and animals, but I can't stand loud crying or howling or barking.

How old were you when you had your first crush?

Like... 20? No kidding.

When was the last time you were so sick you couldn't get out of bed?

Last month. Stomach flu.

What colour is your bath towel at the moment?

White and blue stripes.

Do you blow-dry, towel-dry or air-dry your hair?

Towel dry in winter and air dry in summer.

Are your parents smokers, or have they ever been?

Yeah, both. My dad quit since he was diagnosed with cancer, though.

Can you count to ten in any other languages? Which one(s)?

A lot. Dutch, English, German, Finnish, Swedish, Polish, Romanian, French, Spanish.

What have you eaten today?

Leftover rice from yesterday's Chinese takeout.

When was the last time you stayed in a hotel? Where was it?

In Waterloo, April 2022.

Do you drink alcohol?

No, I don't. I had to quit completely, same with caffeine.

[lemontartc]

Toralei WIP update: She has a name now, and it's Rum(my). I took her out of the acetone two days ago and yeah, if it did anything at all, it's very minor holding her up to my NF Toralei to compare. I let her sit to make sure she hardened again, but I ended up cutting off the rest of her hair right away. I didn't before despite knowing I wanted to change it because I was kind of thinking I still wanted to experiment with styling techniques on her hair, but I have plans for other customs in the future I can try out styling on if I want to before changing their hair, and her hair just wasn't drying out the acetone, so I trimmed it all.

I tried to remove her roots today, but it was a lot harder than it always looks in the videos lol. I wasn't sure I was actually going to be able to do it even after cutting the back of her head open to help (it would have been completely impossible without that, my needlenose pliers didn't even fit through her neck). It took me a really long time and honestly I'm not sure removing heads and pulling roots is something I can really do again with my disability, but I don't know of a precedent for people wigging on top of trimmed rooted hair? I should probably look around for that. I knew from the start there was no way I was physically capable of rerooting, but I probably should have expected more pitfalls before then. Usually when I see people talk about difficulties with customs it's faceups not turning out or rerooting taking forever and being painful, but I never have just the problems that able-bodied people have.

Anyway I did finally get (basically) all of it out, and I went over her scalp with acetone to remove the red paint. I tried sealing the back of her head with E6000 and I currently have a rubberband wrapped around her head to hold it in place even though it basically dried before I even got it in place, but I'm not sure how well the glue will hold. I have a feeling it's going to burst when I try to put her head back on her body but we'll see lol. I'll check her in the morning and see if I think she's ready to start doing a faceup. If she is, I have to decided if I want to go ahead and put her head back on her body first. I'm pretty sure I've seen it both ways and I don't think I'm ever getting her head off again, so I want to put it off as long as possible to make sure I don't need to do anything else with it off, but I also don't want to ruin her faceup while trying to shove it back on later either. I haven't made a decision yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh yeah I tested out my new respirator while doing the glue since you're supposed to be cautious with E6000 (nothing like what I see people saying about MSC, but definitely use it in a ventilated place) even though it was total overkill and wow is an organic particle mask a completely new kind of thing. I've never worn a mask like that before it kind of felt like being a hazmat guy in a movie lol. It wasn't super comfortable and I can tell it's either too small (meant to fit all around my face) or too big (meant to settle and seal just around my mouth) but it's clearly getting a seal and it's what I have from a tested and approved brand so I'm sticking with it lol

Hopefully the next step goes better and her head seam doesn't burst open (I trust E6000 with a lot of things, but I know it's common when you have to cut the back of the head open, so I'm worried considering how many difficulties I've already faced). I did more planning out for her faceup and I'm excited to give it a try

[gauntlets-shot]

[ FIVE KISSES ]  send for five times our muses almost kissed and the one time they do. - Vi to Cait

A collection of 'five times' drabble prompts | accepting

Mun note: Under a read more to not clog up the dash lol

Caitlyn would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about kissing Vi one too many times. The woman sparked something in her she didn't know existed but perhaps that was just love. That's what this type of love felt like. Despite it all, the two never really had a proper moment to kiss each other, but the feelings were both mutual and magnetic. The first time they had almost kissed it was during their first date. It was simple, a small picnic while they watched the sunset. The warm, orangey beams of the sun captured Vi's features perfectly and deep in her heart, Caitlyn had decided this would be the time. This would be their first kiss. However, when their faces got close and their eyes were shut, Caitlyn faltered thanks to the feeling of Vi's breath on her lips and she quickly retreated. She buried her face in Vi's shoulder and let out a sigh. "Sorry," Was all Caitlyn peeped out. She wasn't ready.

The second time was during a charity event for the Kirammans. Caitlyn had dressed up not just to look presentable but also to woo Vi. She had never dressed up for a partner before so she was going to seize this opportunity. At the same time, Caitlyn didn't dress skimpy. There was a stigma to dress in barely anything to look good for your partner but Caitlyn knew she could achieve the same effect under her own terms. She ended up choosing a nice black dress that showed off her back. During the event, Caitlyn finally got some alone time with Vi as they found a restroom. As she went to fix her girlfriend's tie, Caitlyn thought about leaning in for a kiss but instead, she smiled shyly and brushed her hand over Vi's shoulder. She was so handsome and it made her melt.

They were at work the third time. Caitlyn had just settled into her job as the Sheriff of Piltover and despite the job coming with an endless amount of action, it also came with an endless amount of paperwork. Caitlyn was nearly pulling her hair by the end of the day but Vi had come in with a cup of tea to help pull her over. The gesture was small but because Caitlyn was stretched so thin, it meant the world to her. "Thank you, my love," Caitlyn had told her and by some sort of impulse, she leaned in to kiss her but shrunk down. "Sorry, I'm just so tired...thank you again." She felt awful for the rest of the night.

They were sharing Caitlyn's bed the fourth time. It was funny that they hadn't kissed yet but were both willing to take a nap together. However, that nap quickly turned into an overnight stay. Caitlyn was completely fine with it, she didn't mind that they both were too tired to do anything besides cuddle and get up for food. It was like they were in their own little oasis and Caitlyn wouldn't have it any other way. The morning after, Vi was bathed in the gentle glow of the sunrise and Caitlyn was reminded of their first date. She got the urge to kiss her beautiful, pink haired girlfriend once again but because she was still asleep, Caitlyn ended up just kissing her forehead. It was probably the boldest she'd be for a while.

Caitlyn had just come out of the shower around the fifth time. She was comfortable with being in a towel in front of Vi but she still wasn't comfortable enough to be in the shower with her. Caitlyn had let Vi shower first so her girlfriend was clean and clothed already. "Can you hand me my shirt?" She had asked as she gestured over to her bed and used another towel to dry her hair. Caitlyn hummed softly to herself but as she spun around, she ended up tripping and falling right on top of Vi. It was a scene straight out of a romance novel as Caitlyn gripped her towel and blushed at the red head. Their faces were close again but the sheriff quickly laughed off the moment and went to get dressed. "If you wanted to cuddle again, you should've said so," She teased.

The time that they actually kissed was probably during one of the most boring moments of Caitlyn's day but the kiss made up for it ten fold. Caitlyn finally had an off day but she was spending it cooped up in her room, reading books. Vi unfortunately wasn't off so Caitlyn spent the day alone until her shift was over. Her girlfriend had swung by around the end of the day and just as Caitlyn was going to greet her, Vi was leaning down to plant a kiss on her lips. Caitlyn forgot how to breathe once they made contact and her face turned even redder than her girlfriend's hair. "I..." Caitlyn started saying but Vi cut her off and smiled as she held a cupcake out to her. "Cupcake for my cupcake," Vi told her. "Shut up, you dork," Caitlyn had said with the widest smile on her face.

[sleepysloth99]

Before I get into my post, I'm just gonna say that this is a writing piece about when my depression was at its peak, and therefore, some people may not feel comfortable reading this. I'm talking about that, as well as the events that occurred during my time during quarantine. This is a pretty personal piece and very long, no doubt about it, but it does hold a purpose for anyone who chooses to read this.

TW: Discussion of depression, suicide (both my experience, and a classmate), the discussion of transphobia, odd eating habits (which may be upsetting or triggering), catcalling, following, while I not anyone else experiences it, I do mention rape when talking about humans.

It's honestly crazy how depression makes the simplest things the hardest.

Back when my depression was really bad, I remember feeling like I was trapped in a loop. I mean, it still feels like that, but not to an extreme degree like back in 2020.

I remember how difficult it was to simply get out of bed. The moment I would open my eyes, I was filled with utter dismay at the fact that I woke up from the escapism of my dreams and am back in the real world. I would stay in bed daydreaming most of my day away. In fact, growing up, I have this thing where I would daydream non-stop. I had this overactive imagination with vivid daydreams about characters, settings, their lives, and so forth. We would go on so many adventures. While the world seemed to slowly fall apart, we were off doing our own thing.

It was during this period that I had a change in eating habits. I wouldn't eat all day because I either wasn't hungry or I didn't feel like getting up to get any food. At the end of the day, I would make a big meal and eat until I felt sick. I either ate nothing at all and chewed on my nails and loose skin to relieve myself of the hunger a little, or I ate until I gagged. Whenever I was in distress, I would dry heave. I had that feeling that I was going to throw up, but I never did.

Taking care of myself was a challenge. I didn't want to get up and cook only to clean the dishes. I didn't have it in me to get out of bed and go shower or do my skincare. Everything felt overwhelming. My bedroom started to show my state, too. There would be clothes on the floor, boxes stacked, bed unmade, and it was dark because I never really got up to turn on the light or undraw the blinds. I also didn't have the energy to really do laundry or brush my hair. My hair was always tied up to prevent a huge mess of knots, and I always had just enough energy to use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and maybe, just maybe, get something to eat. I would shower, but not daily. I had no energy, but I had just enough to not let myself get too bad.

My academic performance didn't show any signs of depression, however. I had straight A's, and not a single one did I work for. Since I was in quarantine, I transferred over to an online school. At first, I would throw on a sweatshirt and brush my hair for the camera. But after a week or two, I just stopped caring. The school gave me all the work I had for the week up front. So, I would skip the articles and do the tests and quizzes. The majority of the time, I would get a 100%, but eventually, I started to purposely blow things up or ruin a question to not raise any suspicion. All of my answers came from Brainley, or Jiskha. Even the fucking essay answers were all from there but reworded so I wouldn't plagerize. But there was no passion behind my answers or grades. My frequent participation in the chats and lessons gradually decreased. Until one day, I started saying hi with my camera off and nothing else. All of my chat contributions were very generic and artificial (hell, call it NPC-like if you want!) Some of which includes:

Lol, I agree

Hi!

Hello!

Good morning everyone!

Morning!

Wouldn't that mean...?

So true though!

I think so too!

Have a good day everyone! Bye!

Bye everyone! :)

Bye everyone

Ok bye

Bye.

Not a single ounce of sincerity was in any of my words. I couldn't care less about these kids, or the rest of their day, or even what we were talking about. Half the time, I didn't even know what we were talking about. Most of the time, I was sleeping or playing video games, or I was texting on Discord (which I'll get into that soon).

During that whole year in that virtual school, I met some people. There was one boy who, for privacy reasons, I would call Tommy. Tommy was a kid in my virtual class, and we would talk a lot. We met in the main chat room and would derail from class topics as we would talk lively about our interests. It was then that I learned that we both had an interest in cosplaying. The teacher was pleased to witness this socialization unfold but asked that we would get back on topic. So I made a private chat room and sent him a message, and we continued talking about our interests. Eventually, I gave him my Discord, and we continued there. I only got to talk to him a few times. The second or third conversation would have been our last.

During this day, I felt motivated enough to ask the chat how we were doing. To which Tommy answered: "My mom and I had a fight today." So I private messaged him:

Me: Hey what's wrong?

Tommy: My mom and I had a fight.

Me: You wanna talk about it?

Tommy: She was basically not willing to accept the fact that I'm a boy.

Me: Tommy I'm sorry :(

And then, in the midst of class, I was sent a message that shook me to my core.

Tommy: "I'm going to kill myself tomorrow."

In that moment, my heart began to race. I didn't know what to say or do. I have grown up on crime dramas and played Life is Strange, so I had a slight idea as to how to handle a suicidal situation. It wasn't the best, but for a 14 year old, it was better than the average thought process of a middle schooler. I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the conversation. The first thing I did was talk to Tommy and try to comfort him. I then called my mom. Once class was over, I went into the basement, locked myself in the bathroom for privacy, and was on hold for the longest minutes of my life. That day, my mom was at work. If I ever needed to get in touch with my mom, it had to be through the workline because she was unable to answer her phone.

Finally, the line picked up. It was a women who said:

"Hello?"

I was shaking, took a deep breath and said,

"Hello? Yeah. Is (my mom) there?"

Woman: "Who is this?"

Me: "Her daughter."

Woman: "One second."

Then I sat in the bathroom. My ears were ringing and the sound of low quality "please hold" music echoed through my left ear. Finally I heard my mom.

Mom: "Yeah, baby?"

By this point, my breath was unstable as the tears welled up. All I could huff out was, "Mom...?" My mom picked up on this and immediately asked what was wrong. I told her that my friend in class said he was going to kill himself tomorrow. For a second, my mom was speechless and said, "Try to call the school."

She stayed on the phone with me until I hunted the number down. The school goes all across the United States, but its headquarters were in Maryland. I found the number and called it. A woman picked up the phone and asked how she could help and I told her:

"Hi, my name is ____ and I don't know who to tell this to but my friend said he was going to kill himself tomorrow!"

The woman replied, "Oh my god... hold on." And ended up getting in touch with one of the counselors. I emailed her the picture I took of the conversation and talked to them about what happened and how it led to this. It was in that picture, that they saw my reply telling Tommy that I understood his pain because I was suicidal too. They expresses concern for me to which I told them to focus more on Tommy because I had a therapist and supportive parents who would frequently check in on me. Tommy had none of those platforms. I also emphasized that when talking to Tommy, refer to him as Tommy and use he/him pronouns. They got his dead name on the file, and so I emphasized the importance of not using his school file's name.

The rest of the day was a blur. I missed most, if not all, of my classes. I didn't do any work. I just stayed in bed. Later in the evening, I got a call from the woman that I talked to earlier. She said that she wanted to check in with me. She refused to disclose to me what happened, which I understood despite the frustration. She thanked me for reporting, saying that I had done "a very brave thing." I talked to her about my stories that I wrote and what inspired me. She thought that I was a very bright girl. I'm sure I have her email somewhere. Maybe one of these days, I'll email her again just to check in. But after that day, I never heard from her again.

That evening, I also called my dad. Which was very uncommon. Around this time of my life, my father and I were distant, and I didn't go to him very much. It's not in the teenage angst kind of way, but in the family issues kind of way. Yet that day I called him and for the first time in a very long time, I broke down right then and there. My dad asked me what happened, and I could barely get the words out. I told him the full story, and he did his best to comfort me. He told me that I did the best that I could and that even if he never talked to me again for telling, I still did the right thing and that I tried to help. I really did. But the next day, I didn't see Tommy. Or the day after that, or the day after that... I didn't message him since I forgot I had his Discord. That, or deep down... I didn't want to face what could happen. The rest of the week, I couldn't eat. Or the following week. During the Friday of the following week, I told grandma again about how I couldn't believe what happened. To which she basically told me that it's been a week already and to move on. Which is easy for her to say because she wasn't the 14 year old who faced a suicide confession. Don't get me wrong, my grandma is everything to me. In fact, I'll post about her tomorrow. But she made me so mad there.

I mentioned Tommy by the end of the year. I said that I wished I could see him, but that I valued the time we had. The teacher said that it was sweet but that maybe I could find him. I couldn't.

During my time there, I also attended a virtual meeting that helped me learn what to do with my future. I ended up talking to one of the adults and then crying, thanking them because I was at a point where I had no idea what to do with myself anymore. People in the chat were stunned by my reaction and probably laughing, but they didn't see that I was getting to a low.

I only got lower.

When I was 14, during quarantine, I was taking a walk with my brother. I needed to get out of the house. I haven't left the house in almost a month and needed to leave. So we were walking. I was wearing a 3 day old shirt with ketchup stains, hair a mess, and sandals. I looked messy, yet two men pulled up next to me. They leered at me, told me to come over, and I grabbed my brother's hand and walked away. The men drove up to me, did a U-turn, and followed me. I ran back home and cried in my mom's arms as I screamed about how much I hated the world. How I hated the fact that I couldn't leave my house without being harassed. How we hurt the planet, people, animals, and how humans in general could be so repulsive. After that, I never left my house for the rest of the summer.

I stayed inside once more. I stayed in bed once more. I texted my friends but did nothing else. That's if you can even call them my friends. Before this incident with the men happened, I was in a server on Discord. One of my friends was friends with some group of kids. I wanted to find my spot again after my last Discord friend group vanished. So I joined. At first, things seemed swell. There was this girl who vented to me about how everyone left her, and then she listened to me vent about how the kid at my school almost killed himself. This was a week after the suicide scare. She listened to me and showed sympathy. She told me about how back in in-person school, she skipped class and caused trouble. I liked her. She seemed to have been the character foil to my "goody-two shoes" personality. But little did I know that her and her friends were a bunch of red flags.

There was this guy who liked the girl. I'll call this girl Clare, and the guy James. James talked to me and seemed to like me a lot. He thought that I was sweet. Then he messages me, "Hey, if I kill myself, take care of Clare for me, okay?" Mind you, this was a fucking week after some kid told me that he was going to commit suicide. I was scared. Immediately, every alarm in my brain was going off telling me to call for help. I tried to talk to him. I told him how people cared for him. He was rude and condescending to me. To which he said, "I might kill myself." My mom saw the messages and called him out on being manipulative. I just cried the entire time asking her why did this have to happen a week after.

After that incident, I kept my distance. The drama in that groupchat made me uneasy. I felt queasy every time I got a message. The others in the chat were so mean to me, and everyone was either toxic or questionable at best, but I was 14, and I wanted to find my spot in the world so badly that I stuck with them. Eventually, Clare messaged me about how James isn't answering his texts and is worried that he committed suicide. I then spilled to her the conversation that happened a month or so back, and she basically tried pinning the blame of a possible suicide onto a 14 year old. She was also manipulative and passive-aggressive as she said on a call, "Get someone I actually liked," to her friend when I joined. It was then that I ended up working up the courage to cut all of them off. It took a lot for me, but I started off small. I started to back away, distance myself, mute the chat, and then I left. I left the main server. James messaged me asking why, and I sort of evaded the answer. But eventually, I cut all of them off. The story with them doesn't quite end here, there is a bit of an afterward.

But quarantine, the world, everything led me to a low. My typical life as a middle schooler collapsing into a pandemic quarantine led me to the lowest low I have struck in my 16 years of living. My days at 14 used to be filled with me gushing over immature school boys, trying to afford skincare, hanging out with friends, and trying to barely pass that math test ended abruptly. My typical life as a younger teen was pulled beneath my feet as the news came out that we would be out of school due to covid. I lost my friend group, I lost my normal life, the world was crumbling, people were dying, to be quite honest, I was certain this was the end of us. I remembered thinking how ironic it was that the girl who loved apocalyptic stuff was now gonna be a part of the generation to live to see the world end. The supermarkets and the city itself only reinforced that feeling. The city from my neighborhood to the heart of the city, downtown, it was silent. Supermarkets were rationing certain items. People were buying up everything. The fresh fruits and veggies were all gone as everyone started to learn how to can or the meat was gone when everyone learned how to preserve it. Funny enough, the same year where everything was being bought was the same year the economy came crashing down.

I never thought I would live to see such a tranquil yet ominous sight, such as Times Square being completely empty.

This also made it that The Last of Us, a beloved childhood game of mine, became more surreal than ever as the game opened itself with:

"The number of confirmed deaths has passed two hundred. The Governor has called in a state of emergency--

There were hundreds and hundreds of bodies lying in the streets...

Panic spread worldwide! After a leaked report from the World Health Organization showed that the latest vaccination tests have failed.

With the bureaucrats out of power, we can finally take the necessary steps to--

Los Angeles is now the latest city to be placed under martial law--

All residents are required to report to their designated quarantines--"

I had to look up that last bit, but I memorized the first half by heart because I've played it so many times. I never imagined that one day, this opening would hit as hard as it did. In fact, the entire predicament was so hard hitting for me at the tender age of 14 that April 1, 2020, was going to be my last day on Earth.

On April 1, 2020, I was sitting at the table eating a big bowl of pasta. It was around 3 p.m., and I was having my first meal of the day. In the midst of my meal, I couldn't stop thinking about the world. How it has come to, and those awful men. It wasn't the first time I was catcalled, but it was the first time I was being legitimately followed. My first time being catcalled was 14, at around the beginning of quarantine. I was wearing a skirt and a shirt, and was walking over to a friend's house when a man went very close to me. Almost cheek-to-cheek. He leaned in and said, "Damnnnn... you are looking nice today!"

Now, from a boy or a man's perspective, you are probably thinking, "What's the big deal? He complimented you." I'll tell you what the big deal is. It's that I never wanted someone to get up in my face and say anything to me. Let alone a grown man saying that to someone old enough to be his daughter. I wanted to look cute for myself. I didn't want some grown man to get up in my face and "compliment" me only to walk away as if he made my day, leaving my middle school self scared and vulnerable. I felt self-conscious at this point. I was wondering if my skirt was too short, if I was asking for it, if that's what all the men were thinking, and above all, even when I looked liked I was about to cry, even when I was shaking, no one stopped to ask me if I was okay. I was 14, fairly far from my mom's house, still trying to navigate the streets, 4'11, had no one with me, and above all, I was a teenage girl. I was in public, but I felt so alone. I felt like I was the perfect person to be subjected to sexual harassment or worse. Maybe a guy is reading this and thinking, "Oh please, you're being dramatic." Well, sure, it's easy for you to say that. You aren't the gender that is more likely to be murdered or raped or followed simply because you turned someone down! You also aren't the gender that is immediately seen as a woman and, therefore, "free for the taking" and "in their prime" as soon as they get their first period.

While that encounter was scary, it was nowhere near as scary as the men who followed me in their car. Not just because of the fact that they followed me, but also because of a fact that I don't think I mentioned: I was walking one night with a friend, and I am 99% sure that I saw those men that night. 2 grown men, one blonde who smirked and motioned me to come over to him with his index and middle finger. Which were the same mannerisms that the man driving the car that day had. Same beat up van with two shades of blue, same skintone, same hair, and above all, the same odd mannerism of using the index and middle finger to motion to me. It was the same man.

So not only was I terrorized by these men once, but twice, one in which they followed me, but the world was having a pandemic, I lost my friends group, I lost my sense of normalcy, I lost all passion for academics, I lost my passion to write, and above all, I lost my passion to push forward. I wanted to cry that very moment at the kitchen table, but my stepdad and brother were home, and they would have seen it. So I lied to them and told them that I was going to go jogging.

But I had no intention of coming home.

I walked down the block, heading towards the woods where no one would find me for at least a few days. I was going to write a letter, but I figured that if I do that, they will only be more upset. If I leave them simply angry at me, they will miss me a lot less. I walked, paused, and for the first time in a long while.... I bawled my eyes out.

Growing up, I was a very emotional and sensitive girl. But I suppressed my emotions because my father told me that being sensitive would subject me to bullying. So, instead, I would convert my sadness and anger into laughter. No matter what I felt, I would laugh hysterically. But in that moment, I stopped laughing.

I was bunched up on the side of the road and sobbing into my knees. It was a pretty day outside. The sky had some fluffy clouds, the sun was out and warming me up, and the sky was a gorgeous blue, but no amount of sunny weather breeze could blow away my storm clouds. Someone was walking their dog, and I remember wishing they would ask me if I was okay, but the stranger from across the street simply looked at me and walked away.

"Yeah... why am I not surprised?" I thought.

I was so sick of the world. I was sick of how humans treated each other. We would rape, rob, kill, take away someone's mom or dad, son or daughter, brother or sister, best friend or classmate at the drop of a hat and the drop of a bullet just for money or because they were a certain race or religion or gender or sexuality. It made me sick that we were so willing to hurt the planet and animals for our own gain, it made me sick that the same men with daughters of their own would shout obscene things at someone else's daughter. I was sick of the world, I was sick of myself, and how I no longer wanted to be alive and therefore would cause great misfortune to my loved ones, I simply wanted to die. The worst part was that I planned on doing so without leaving a note behind. But in my mind, that would work out for them in the long run. I figured that maybe it would make things easier for them to move on and act like I never existed. Now that I'm older, I know now that you can't just forget someone's existence. Especially if they left such an impact on you. But 14 year old me was convinced that she didn't make an impact on anybody in the world.

Okay, so, if I left the house to do that, why was I crying on the side of the road?

To be honest, I am not 100% sure. Even now, I am not super sure. My guess is that I was scared. I wasn't just scared of the fact that it would hurt, but I was scared of the outcome of my actions. Growing up, I played a lot of choice-dependent games. I distinctly remember Episode two of Life is Strange in which Kate Marsh (a favorite of mine) was on the roof, and what you say to her will determine whether or not she kills herself. I have played it with both endings out of curiosity to watch outcomes play out, and the ending where Kate is dead is by far one of the most depressing tones in the series. From the news reports to Kate's web page to the candles outside of the dorm, it was something that really stuck with me since I was in second grade when I first played the game.

It was because of games such as Life is Strange, that at a very young age, I would constantly think about the consequences of my words and actions. This was why I would often refuse to retaliate when picked on, would actively choose to descalate situations (even if the person was an asshole), and so forth. So, I was thinking about the outcome of killing myself. I have done it plenty of times before, but this time was very different because instead of a "What if I killed myself?" It was a matter of "What will happen once I kill myself?"

I was crying on the side of the road and thinking. I thought about my brothers, first and foremost. I have three brothers, all of whom are younger than me. I have two baby brothers, and one who was about 6 or 7. I was sitting there, thinking, "How do you explain to a child that their big sister will never come home?" I then sat there and thought about my grandparents. I thought, "Grandma and Grandpa could have a heart attack when they find out. Who will take care of them when one dies because I won't be around." I thought about my parents, I thought about my best friend who I knew since kindergarten and would grow to have some sort of romantic relation with. I thought about my older sister, who would have to get a phone call from mom saying her little sister is dead. There were so many people. So many who would have had a situation involving grief. Above all, however, it was my little brothers who stopped me.

I had a plan to kill myself. I have had it for a while, actually. But it was only that day that I decided to almost go through with it. I was in disbelief, but in actuality, I left my house with the intention of never coming home again. That sounds like a suicide plan, does it not? I felt ashamed. I felt like I had hit a low so low that I whipped out my phone, which was dying, put it on battery saver, and called the suicide hotline for the very first time.

Now, just for clarification, there is no harm or shame in calling the suicide hotline. It is there for you to use if you need the help. But as a 14 year old who was still trying to suppress her emotions, I felt ashamed. It was after a few rings that a woman was on the line, and I started crying again. I told her everything, down to my past trauma involving Tommy and early childhood. I was hysterical. I felt so defeated. She heard me and asked for my age. When I told her 14, she seemed stunned for a moment. She was very empathetic. I was unsure as to whether or not there was a time limit, so I said,

"I should go now. But thank you."

And then the lady said something that I still carry with till this day.

"Take care."

Take care. Growing up, I would say that sometimes to be polite. As I got older, I grew nore cynical and would roll my eyes when no one was looking when someone said those words to me because I would think, "Why the hell do you care?" But that day... the lady gave those words a much deeper meaning to me. Now, I always tell people to take care. The same set of words that made me roll my eyes were now the words that I carry with me and hold to a high standard.

Now, you're probably reading this wondering why I made this post. You were scrolling Tumblr, and you came across this post and decided to read it, and now you know a lot about a stranger online. So why did I make this? Some people, especially young people, might be on this blog and are still growing up and learning. I wanted to teach people my age and younger about the fact that despite depression being so isolating, they are not alone. Furthermore, I wanted to teach young people to set boundaries, learn when to back away from someone, to push forward, that they were not the only ones who felt alone or wanted to die and that they are not weird or wrong for having mental issues, that as pathetic as it feels to be unable to do the dishes or get out of bed, it is common for those with depression. I wanted to teach people my age that even years later, the pandemic is still affecting us mentally and that it isn't just them. I wanted to teach people my age lessons to carry with them so that way they can be better equipped for life by sharing my personal experiences.

As for that afterward... Clare (the manipulative girl I mentioned earlier) actually messaged me on Instagram and Discord. She asked me if I wanted to be back in the server or the group chat. In fact, she asked me this three times. Needless to say, she is blocked on all platforms now. It is with this lighthearted note to end a dark writing piece that I will let you off with a few words.

Take care.

[thornswithroses]

So, uh, I had a few errands to do today. #TeamBeto)

[iwannabangchan]

Hi! I just saw your requests is open, yay!!

Can I please request that the reader experiences their 'first time' with either hyunjin or lee know? (You can pick).

Pls make it fluffy, smutty & filled with love.

Thank you xx

Sweet

Pairing: Hyunjin x virgin!Fem reader

Word count: 1.8 k

Content Warnings: Smut (minors dni); Unprotected sex; Kissing; Dry humping; First time; Mutual masturbation; Fingering; Oral (F); Tears; Swearing; Creampie; Fluff (I tried lol)

A/N: Heyy friend! Thank you for requesting ^-^ Sorry for the wait, Everyone (my laptop broke ._.) but while I was on hiatus I thought of a new concept that I would like to try. You guys may or may not like it, but I'd love to see what you think so stay tuned for that! Requests are still open, as always. Lots of love,

~ ♥ Li ♥

//2:49//  

 Hanging his house keys on the wall, Hyunjin slung his duffle bag across his body. ‘Tired’ wasn't even the word to describe how he felt as he walked through the door. And with dance practice, studio recordings, and hours of endless meetings being a part of his daily schedule, working and living in the same city didn't change the fact that you would often spend days without seeing each other; almost like being in a long-distance relationship-without the distance. He usually spent nights in the dorm, but not tonight. Tonight he wants to be with you. 

You were tucked under the covers, sleeping soundly when Hyunjin entered the door to your bedroom. Keeping his clanking and unzipping to a minimum, he undressed himself and wrapped an white towel around his lower body. He unclipped his wrist watch, silenced his phone, and placed them gently on the dressing table. Completely exhausted, his only desire was to slip into bed, next to you. He had been thinking about you all day, yet he couldn't send a text to check up on you. Guilty.

He groaned as he turned to the ensuite, sighing as he smeared some toothpaste on his brush. Passing by his reflection on the way, he pulled the handle of the glass shower door, stepped in, and washed the day away. Feeling the hot water against his body instantly relaxed him. He'll make it up to you, somehow.

Hyunjin lifted the covers and climbed in, snaking his arm around your waist and shifting even closer to you.

“Jinnie?”, you called, your voice slightly husky.

“Oh, sorry babe. Did I wake you?”

“Mmh, it's okay,” you caressed his hair as you turned to face him, “you didn't tell me you were coming”

“I thought I'd surprise you”, he whispered, leaning up to peck the corner of your lips. His lips were so soft and...minty? You returned his kiss, pulling him in by his neck to meet you halfway.

Lips still connected, Hyunjin laid back as you pushed off the bed to straddle him. Your kisses became breathier as you found yourself grinding your core onto him. Hyunjin kept his firm hands on your waist, subtly guiding the motions of your hips and making a mess in your underwear.

Every passing second became increasingly difficult to ignore himself growing harder under your touch. However, Hyunjin never took it further than kissing and dry humping because that's what you were comfortable with; but at that moment, you wished he could read your mind- to know how you were desperately longing for his touch and his body. But of course, he wasn't telepathic.

You broke off the kiss to sit up, unable to look him in the eyes.

“Why, is something wrong?”, he asked, sensing your uneasy demeanor.

"Actually, um. You know I love you, right?”

“...Yes. Baby, why am I getting the feeling you're gonna tell me something bad?” He smiled weakly, although you were starting to worry him.

 “No, it's just- I've been thinking and…”, your voice trailed off.

“And…?”, he echoed, sitting up as you were.

“Jinnie, I-I think I'm ready,” you said, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“For sex?”

You nodded. He slid his arm around your waist to pull you in closer, “Are you sure?”

You nodded again, finally mustering the courage to maintain eye contact. You tried to appear calm, but on the inside, your stomach was churning. Why you felt nervous, you weren't too sure. Yes, this was your first time, but this was Hyunjin. Your Jinnie. The guy that made you feel safe and protected when you were together.

 “No, I need to hear you say it. Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you, Jinnie. I do.”

He flipped you back onto your pillow and crawled on top of you, spreading your legs open before laying in-between them. He leaned in to plant kisses on your jaw, trailing down your neck and causing you to jerk your head away, snickering.

Hyunjin lifted his head to look at you in confusion, “What?”, he chuckled lowly.

“It tickles”

“You're so cute,” he parted your lips with his, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You took your hand to palm his neglected boner that you could feel pressing onto you. “No, no, no,” he stopped your hand, kissing you on the cheek, “Tonight is about you, my love.”

Hyunjin stood up and pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his tanned, toned physique. He gently tugged your shirt, (which was really his), hinting that he wanted it gone. You lifted your head, taking it off completely to expose your bare chest to him. He traced a line of kisses from your stomach to the crevice of your breasts where he could feel your heart beating fast.

He started taking off your pajama shorts along with your panties, sliding them past your thighs, down to your ankles, and tossed them on the floor. He teased you with his warm breath as his face was only inches away from your core. “Fuck, Baby”, he groaned as he dipped his head in-between your legs leaving wet kisses along your inner thighs as he got lower and lower with each peck. “...you look beautiful under me”.

“You ever play with your pussy while I'm gone?” Too shy to reply, you nodded in response. “Yeah? Show me.” Slowly, you lifted your hands to your mouth to gather saliva onto two digits, although you were already wet enough. You shivered in pleasure as you pushed your fingers as far in as you could. “I need you to stretch yourself so it won't hurt as much, okay?”

“Okay.” Stretch myself? How painful is it gonna be? Ultimately, your concerns quickly subsided when you saw him get up from the bed.

He slipped down his sweatpants to reveal his erect length; never lifting his gaze on you while you fingered your tight hole, squelching sounds now filling the room. Hyunjin spat on his hand and stroked his thick girth with his moist palm. You arched your back and bit your lip at the sight of him teasing his thick length, precum shining on his tip.

He pushed your hands aside and wasted no time in diving his tongue onto your clit, licking the bud back and forth before taking your whole cunt into his mouth.

You gripped onto his hair for dear life as he slurped your essence with his lips: a euphoric sensation you had never experienced before. His big hands clutched onto the sides of your trembling legs to keep you from trapping him in. You moaned out loud as you pushed your hips to grind against his tongue. Your legs continued to twitch as he stroked his slick tongue between your folds. "I cant-uh! I can hold it any longer!" you panted, throwing your head back into the pillow. He rapidly removed his lips from your pussy, causing you to groan at the loss of contact.

He got up to position his tip at your entrance. As he rubbed your slit back and forth with his tip, he could feel you suddenly tense up. “WAIT!” you tried to push away in sudden panic. “Wha- what’s wrong?” he questioned with wide eyes.

“I-I’m scared,”

Hyunjin wiped a fallen tear with the back of his hand “I've got you, babe. Just relax” he said as he positioned his tip back to your entrance and you gave him a nod signaling he can enter.

“Take a deep breath,” you did as he said and he carefully pushed in, groaning at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. Hyunjin took his time with you, as if he were handling a valuable piece of fine china. Nevertheless, the sensation of him pushing into you felt incredibly painful. Another tear ran to your temple when he fully bottomed out “Ah-it hurts!"

“Shh, I’m here baby”, he reassured, wiping another fallen tear “I'll go slow,” Hyunjin said as he pulled out and pushed in again, getting deeper with each thrust. Hyunjin pushed his needs aside and focused on keeping his strokes calculated and slow, focusing on making you feel as little pain as possible.

After a while pain suddenly turned to pleasure and Hyunjin's slow strokes against the ridges of your walls made you see stars. “Harder” you begged “Please”  

 “You're doing so good for me,” His eyes moved down to watch how your breasts bounced with every thrust. “You sure you can take it?”

“Fuuuck! Yes just like that!” you dragged out as Hyunjin increased his speed while gripping onto the sheets next to you with both hands to keep himself up. He watched you struggle to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. You let out high pitch moans, unable to control yourself as he continued to fuck you deep and hard.

You looked down to see how his cock quickly disappeared in between your legs with each stroke.

Hyunjin's grunting with every thrust into your pussy made you clench tighter around his throbbing dick. Your orgasm quickly hit you and your legs shook around his body and he brought his hand to your legs “Now spread your legs for me. Fuck, Y/N! That's it.” Moans continued to spill out of your mouth with every deep thrust into that spot inside you never knew existed. You chanted his name as he continued to fuck you through your high to chase his own.

Hyunjin’s rhythmic thrusts became sloppier as he felt himself getting closer. Sweat dripped down his furrowed eyebrows, sticking hair to his forehead. “I’m gonna fucking cum” he growled, throwing his head back in pleasure. “Where do you want-” “Inside! Cum inside me. Please.” he continued his rapid thrusts until he eventually stilled, emptying his load and groaning into your lips.

“How was that?” Hyunjin asked as he got up to grab a damp, warm towel from the ensuite. You were grinning from ear to ear, gazing up at the ceiling. “Perfect”

"Mmh, you were amazing, sweetheart," Hyunjin whispered as he carefully wiped you down and landed more kisses to your neckline, earning him a loud cackle.

He slid his arm around your waist and slowly let sleep drift him away. “Let's just stay like this for a bit” he slurred, exhaustion audible in his voice.

He'll make it up to you. In the morning…

♥ Thank you for reading  ♥  

Taglist

@lovesb1in  @planetdemon @chansbabydoll

If you would like to be tagged, please comment or send me a request! I also accept tags for specific memebers :)

[ticklish-n-stuff]

SORRU ITS FOR PJSK TSUKASA I SHOULDVE CLARIFIED

Just ask

Hehe no worries~

Oof this turned out to be very self indulgent sjdhjsdjjdjdjd

And thank you @kairoscler for fueling my leeKasa brainrot lol

I hope you like it :)

___________________________________________

Tsukasa x Rui (romantic)

Lee: Tsukasa

Ler: Rui

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

It had been a tough day. Tsukasa was completely exhausted, the only thing that he wanted was the affection of his boyfriend but there was one teensy little problem...

Rui was seated on the couch, casually watching tv when he was suddenly interrupted by Tsukasa who plopped himself down on his lap, a soft pout adorning his lips. "Is something wrong?" the purple haired male asked as he softly petted his head.

"Just tired..." Tsukasa layed his head against Rui's shoulder, letting out a sigh of satisfaction when he felt Rui's arms wrap around his torso.

Rui noticed how his boyfriend would squirm ever so slightly in his grasp "Is there something else botheting you? You seem a bit uneasy...".

"No... well...maybe? It's kinda silly though..." Tsukasa let out a dry chuckle, adverting Rui's gaze as his cheeks got slightly tinted in a soft, red shade.

Seeing Tsukasa's reaction, Rui was able to deduct what it was that he wanted. A sly smirk made it's way onto his lips. "Are you embarrassed~?" he asked as he gently held his boyfriend by his chin, forcing him to look into his teasy eyes. Tsukasa's face got redder by the second until he let out an embarrassed squeal, burrying his flushed face against Rui's chest. "Hehe, is there something that you want~?".

Tsukasa sprung back up "Y-you already know what it is that I want!".

"Do I??" Rui played dumb, knowing how flustering it was for his boyfriend to ask for tickles. "Why don't you remind me~?".

"You're doing this on purpose!" Tsukasa let out a flustered groan, his puffy red cheeks and pout just adding to his cuteness.

"I can't give you what you want unless you ask~" Rui teasingly tapped his fingers along Tsukasa's lower back, watching as his face somehow got even redder.

"Ugh! I cahan't believe yohou!" the blonde let out soft huffs of laughter at each tap, wanting to arch away and yet melt into the touch that he desired so strongly. His pout got even bigger when Rui stopped.

"Well? I'm waiting~".

Tsukasa let out a sigh before speaking, barely audible "...can you please t-tickle me...?".

"I'm sorry, what was that~?" Rui grinned down at him when Tsukasa playfully smacked him in the chest.

"You're awful!".

"And yet you still love me~" Rui playfully poked his reddened cheek.

Tsukasa let out a groan before speaking up, albeit a bit desperately "...can you PLEASE tickle me?!". Rui couldn't help but chuckle at his boyfriend. "Oi! Don't laugh at me!".

"Hehe~ Now that wasn't so hard~".

Before Tsukasa could protest, he fell into a fit of hight pitched giggles as he felt Rui spider his fingers gently along his back. "Eep! Ahahahaha! Whyhyhy thehehere?!" the blonde laughed into his boyfriend's shoulder, clinging around his neck like a koala.

"What? Don't you like it when I tickle tickle tickle along your back~?" as Rui teased, he playfully walked his fingers up Tsukasa's back, earning a flustered squeal.

"That's nahat the pohoHOint!" Tsukasa screeched as Rui's fingers crawled up his sides up to his highest ribs, right below his armpits. "Dohon't you dahahare!!".

"Don't I dare what~?".

"Tickle me-!" Tsukasa gasped as he clamped his mouth shut, realizing he fell for the oldest trick in the book. But that didn't last for long as he felt a finger wiggle under each armpit. "nohoHO! RUI NAHAT THEHEHERE!" Tsukasa practically screamed in laughter, his whole body tensing up as he clung harder onto Rui.

"Aww it's just a finger, it can't be THAT bad~" Rui whispered into his ear, earning a loud squeal. Tsukasa instantly scrunched up his shoulders, trying to form sentences but would end up laughing himself silly again.

"AHAHAHAHA! R-RUI PLEHEHEASE!".

"Oh alright, but only 'cause you sound desperate~" Rui gave him a soft kiss on the head as he slipped his hands out from under his arms. Tsukasa instantly slumped down, with Rui hugging him closely, rubbing his back soothingly. Tsukasa still giggled from the tingles, a wide, dorky smile plastered on his face. "Had fun superstar~?".

"S-shut uhup!" the blonde playfully shoved at him, causing Rui to giggle. They both stared at each other for a moment, smiling like two dorks in love. Then, Tsukasa tried to play coy as he teasingly walked his fingers up Rui's sides.

"E-ehey?! Whahat are you dohohoing?!" Rui instantly squeaked at the tickly contact, giggling all silly.

"Haha! That's what you get for messing with me earlier~!" declared Tsukasa all confidently, but his plan went out the window when Rui playfully pinned him down across the couch.

"You were saying~?" Rui looked down at him with a sinister grin, causing Tsukasa to gulp.

"Uhumm... I-I love yohou?!" Tsukasa giggled all nervously, his blush quickly returning to his face.

"Love you too, but that won't save you~" Rui leaned his head down, planting soft, tickly kisses along Tsukasa's neck.

"Nahahaha! Rui not thahahat!" Tsukasa tried scrunching up but that didn't stop his boyfriend from attacking the sensitive spot. The blonde would let out the bubbliest giggles at each ticklish kiss, opting to kick his legs out to try to relieve the ticklishness.

"You did ask for this~" Rui then softly dug his fingers into Tsukasa's armpits as he kept kissing along his neck, sending his partner into hysterics.

"GYAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Tsukasa threw his head back in laughter, eyes fully squeezed shut and his smile brighter than any star. Rui then remained tormenting his boyfriend with tickles for the rest of the day, let's hope Tsukasa will make it out alive.

___________________________________________

I had too much fun with this X3

Now I'm gonna go die of embarrassment hgjfjdhdjdjjffj

[lunaetiicsaystuff]

"JUST RELAX"

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOG DNI

georgenotfound x fem!reader

Summary: George was stressed, and everyone could see that. You decide to help him relax.

TW: smut, oral ( George receiving ), praise kink, degradation kink, dry humping, thigh riding, vaginal sex, riding, sub/dom dynamics, dom!george, sub!reader, overestimation, dirty talk, pet names, cockwarming, slight brat taming, choking, use of 'good girl' lol.

You glanced to the other side of the room when you heard George sighing for what seemed the hundredth time, in one hour. "Babe?" You called for him, and he looked at you with tired, red eyes and a frown on his face.

"Are you ok? You look tired." You asked, slowly putting down your phone and jumping down yours and George's bed. He shook his head, but his eyes were locked with yours. " I can't edit this stupid video, I'm supposed to post it tomorrow but I just-" He started to explain, moving his hands around and you let out a chuckle.

He stared at you in a way that made him look like a sad puppy, so you moved behind him, slowly massaging his shoulders. "Is there something I can do to help?" You asked, smiling down at George who closed his eyes, enjoying what you were doing, but still nodded.

"What is it?" You whispered, enjoying the relaxed aura around you both. "Do you mind... I mean, could you cockwarm me?" He asked, his cheeks turning red as you raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on your face.

Had it been a month ago, George would've never even told you what was wrong and now he was asking you to cockwarm him.

You chuckled but kissed his neck before walking in front of him. "You want me to use my mouth or...?" You trailed off, letting George decide.

He stared at you for a moment before sighing and saying "your mouth." You just nodded and pecked his lips before taking the extra pillow you slept with and placing it on the floor under George's desk so that you wouldn't hurt your knees too much.

He smiled at you while undoing his pants, looking already a lot more relaxed than before. And when you finally sank on your knees and put his halfhard dick in your mouth and he let out a sigh of relief, you asked yourself if you had that much power over his mood.

That's how you spent the next twenty minutes, cockwarming his cock, sucking it, or playing with his balls from time to time, just to make George realize that you were getting sad from being ignored while he edited his video. The situation wasn't unusual for you both, it was just that usually, George would brush his hand through your hair, massaging your scalp and playing with your hair, or stroking your cheek. You were not used to being ignored just like that, and you wanted just a bit more attention.

That's how you ended up with George looking down at you, eyes stern but that still held a bit of amusement. "What do you think you're doing darling?" You just twirled your tongue around his tip again, not breaking the eye contact and George bit his lip, drowning out a groan.

He moved his hands to your scalp, massaging it, and so you started to suck him softly again. But then George tugged your hair, slowly pulling you away from his now hard dick. He let out a chuckle when you sent him a small glare, his hand tugging your hair again to make you move closer to him.

"What is it darling? Why were you sucking my dick when I told you just to keep it warm, huh?" He said, his voice coated in fake sweetness that made your pussy feel like it was on fire. "G-got bored baby. You were ignoring me." You panted out, noticing the way George started to tug you out from under the desk.

"And so you decided to act like a pretty little brat mhm? You know I was working on this important video and yet, you couldn't keep that pretty mouth of yours away from my dick." He placed his hands on your hips, pushing your sports shorts and panties down your legs, leaving yourself almost completely naked in front of him.

He then made you sit on one of his thighs, his hands slowly guiding your hips to move you the way he knew you liked it, ignoring his hard throbbing dick that almost touched your thigh. "Go on baby, you wanted to act like a brat, so I'm gonna make you hump my thigh like the little slut you are, ok?" He asked, his accent made your knees weak and without even thinking about it, you nodded at his words.

"Color? And safeword." George whispered in your ear, biting the strip of skin right under it. "Green, and- and Minecraft." You breathed out, a small chuckle leaving your lips when you saw George scoff at your choice for the safeword. He took your shirt off, leaving your bare in front of him since you weren't wearing a bra.

He kissed you, biting your lip to get you to open your mouth, and when you did, he slipped his tongue in. His hands slowly started to move your hips over his thigh, the rhythm picking up every time your tongue met his, and you felt your heart skip a beat when George pulled away, looked at you, and let out a small moan.

He wasn't very vocal during sex, so wherever he moaned or whined, or made any sound other than dirty talk, you always felt like coming at that moment. He grinned at you as if he somehow knew what you were thinking about and squeezed your hips.

"Come on baby, hump a bit quicker ok? You do want to come, right?" He mocked, his voice sending chills through your body.

You shook your head up and down at his question moving quicker your hips, lost in the pleasure the motion was giving you and too lost to understand what he was asking. But he made a sound of disagreement and tapped your ass with your finger, stopping you and grinned as you whined, face morphed into a silent plead as you stared at him.

"Wanna be a good girl darling?" He asked, one of his hands leaving your hip to wrap around your neck, moving your face closer to him. In doing so, he also moved your body and made your grind again against his thigh.

You nodded frantically and George grinned at you, squeezing your neck and you moaned at the pressure "then use your words."

"Yes, I-" He pressed more, eyes filled with the list while he stared at you. He slowly brought you closer to him, and smashed his lips on yours, starting a passionate yet slow kiss. He pulled away, making eye contact with you. "Then, you better start grinding on my thigh like a good little slut, because, after it, I want you to ride me 'till the only thing you will whine about is my name. Got it?" He mumbled, kissing your forehead while tapping your hip.

You immediately started to move your hips, not even trying to muffle your moans. George smirked, looking at your figure as you threw your head behind, eyes rolling in the back of your head while he started to help you with his hands to move your hips.

"Come on darling, be a good girl and make a mess of my thigh." He encouraged you, enjoying the way your mouth parted open and you slightly shake when you came, your orgasm dripping down on his leg. He smirked, his right hand still wrapped on your neck as he used it to tug you close to him, kissing you. "Good girl." He whispered.

The other hand, however, slowly left your hip and moved towards your pussy, he twirled his finger against your clit, teasing you, before he entered you and you moaned, still not completely over the orgasm you just had a few seconds prior. George chuckled at you, shaking his head.

"Relax darling, I just want to taste you. Now be a good girl and lift your hips for me." He ordered, grinning at you when he saw your legs shaking while you raised your hips a little. He added another two fingers, and moved them inside you, prepping you, before he pulled them out, glistening and covered with your cum.

He brought them to his mouth, and without breaking eye contact, swirled his hand around them and groaned, smiling at your familiar taste while you became a blushing mess.

Twenty seconds later, he was putting a condom on his dick while you raised your hips, ready to take him. When he did push inside of you, you couldn't the whimper that left your mouth. He was just a bit above average, and that seemed enough to make you cry in pain the first time you two had sex. Now, it seemed more like a little sting.

He stayed still for a minute or two, just giving you the time to adjust before groaning as you started to move. But when he noticed your slow pace, his hands moved to your ass and guided you to the rhythm he wanted and liked. Using you for his pleasure.

You whimpered when he squeezed your hips thight enough to leave some marks that you would tease him about in the morning. He groaned, feeling you clench around his dick. "Fuck darling, just like that. Such a good girl." He praised, squeezing yourr ass.

"I'm close." You moaned, warming him about your release with hopeful eyes.

He just chuckled. "If you're so eager to cum, then cum, but as I said before, I won't stop until the only thing you will be able to moan will be my name, while you beg me to stop." He promised, kissing your neck while you cried out, your orgasm hitting you just like his words hit your throbbing core.

And he continued, dragging your hips up and down his cock, moaning in pleasure every time you cried out his name and clung to him when you came, your nails digging into his back.

And after three orgasms later for you, George groaned and threw his head behind, gripping your waist and moving them down while slamming himself one last time inside of you, cumming. "Fuck." He cursed, both of your chests moving up and down quickly while you two made eye contact.

You giggled and he just placed his hands over your cheeks, kissing you softly while smiling. "You were so good, baby." He whispered before kissing your forehead.

"Did I help you relax at least?" You asked with amusement laced on your tone. He grinned at you, "Oh yeah, I'm the most relaxed I've ever been. Thank you, darling." He teased, bringing you closer to him.

His answer seemed enough for you to finally feel your exhaustion and you closed your eyes, resting your head over his chest. He kissed your head before starting to play with your hair, and without even realizing it, it made you fall asleep.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴄᴀᴛ’s ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ?

__________________________

ᴄᴀᴍ ʙᴏʏ/ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ! ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You have always been more modest not really ever having time to explore what could have been some sort of sensual alter ego and when Bucky finds out hes determined to bring the sex goddess in you out.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: slight fluff if you count flirty bucky, smut ofc (minors dni) [cam boy bucky (slight tipsy bucky and reader in the beginning); brief male masterbation (bucky has his door open during a session); fem!rec oral; hair pulling; spanking; real dirty talking; strong language, degradation; loss of virginity/ virgin reader but not innocent, touch starved reader, and overstim, overall pretty rough but aftercareeee]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: sorry in advanced if you don’t like iced coffee lol

_____________________________

“There’s no way; you’re such a fucking liar,” Bucky threw his head back with laughter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before standing up with annoyance.

“No! Don’t go, come on. I didn’t mean it like that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed.

“Can I ask why?”

“I mean, honestly. I just never really had time. Although, I did avoid sweaty football players all of high school, but being in uni I just want to grind and grind, you know? Finish school and get my degree. I don’t really have much time going out and getting laid,” you explained.

“Shit, does my… ‘side job’ make you uncomfortable? I didn’t realize how you would feel about it being a vir-”

“Buck, I’m a virgin, not innocent,” you chuckled.

“Damn straight,” Bucky laughed.

“Let me help you,” he said, making you laugh out loud.

"With what?" you asked in disbelief.

"Let me take your virginity. 'S better than fucking some random drunkard in a one night stand, and let's face it, you're not getting a boyfriend anytime soon."

You couldn't help but keep laughing at what he was saying.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You’re so full of shit, Barnes,” you snorted, too drunk to notice that Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Offer stands whenever, pretty girl.”

That was four weeks ago.

Since then, you feel like the tension between you and your roommate was especially thick since your tipsy confession. You couldn’t tell whether the things Bucky would say now were intentionally inappropriate or you just had a dirty mind. He seemed to always be shirtless; always.

“Did all your shirts catch fire? No, they got stolen, huh?” you joked.

“Har, har. Don’t be such a prude, pretty girl.”

“I’m not a prude,” you mumbled; at least he had the muscles to flaunt.

One quiet Friday evening, you sat in your room working away at your desk. You had been at it for a couple hours and as much as you wanted to throw in the towel you were so close to finishing everything you needed to finish this weekend. You went to the kitchen to grab a snack, maybe make a coffee, before drilling for the last hour to get everything done.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky said, standing with a glass of whiskey in hand. He always drinks before filming.

“Gettin’ ready for your… stuff?” you asked.

“What stuff?” he asked cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I haven’t posted anything in a couple weeks and my subscribers are thirsty,” he told you.

“I can only imagine,” you joked.

“Well, baby, I’m in the next room if you wanna stop imagining,” he said flirtatiously

“Fuck off. I’m just here to get coffee,” you smirked, grabbing the things you’ll need from the fridge.

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” Bucky said, smacking your ass hard before leaving for his room; you scoffed rolling your eyes at his antics.

You turned around making the coffee itself mindlessly before you grew slight concern when you had yet to hear the door of Bucky’s bedroom to shut. He always kept his door shut whilst you wore headphones blasting music so you wouldn’t have to listen to his unnecessary moaning and cursing. You silently begged the machine to hurry it’s brewing as Bucky began talking and moaning to his audience.

You gritted your teeth hearing him so clearly. Your breathing quickened and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hated how you wondered if he really was as vocal in bed as he portrayed online. You hated the way your stomach flipped and the tingle between your thighs. You’ve never felt so aroused before, you didn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and you swallowed the dry lum in your throat.

You don’t even know how long you stood in the kitchen listening to Bucky. You were incredibly aroused, wetness pooling between your thighs. Your hands gripped at the counter desperate to not let your knees buckle as he got closer to his release.

“God, fuck you James,” you mumbled to yourself.

You couldn’t take it the groans he practically was screaming from his room. You stomped your way to his room to yell at him to close the door. You were enraged but you don’t really know why. Bucky’s side job never bothered so much until now and truthfully he wasn’t really to blame for how turned on you felt hearing him.

“Can you close the goddamn door?” you yelled approaching his bedroom.

“I hate to interrupt but I can fucking hear you- in the… kitchen,” you trailed off.

Bucky sat on his bed completely nude. His cheeks were red and his forehead had a layer of sweat as did his very smooth and very toned chest. Your body completely froze. It’s not that you hadn’t seen a man naked before. You’ve watched porn during the more stressful and lonelier nights, but Bucky was beautiful.

“Care to join?” Bucky breathed with a stupid smile.

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“I ain’t forget about that offer, pretty girl,” Bucky stood, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

“Whatcha say? You ready to finally deflower?” Bucky walked closer to you with a devilish smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry-” you stumbled over your words.

Your stomach fluttered from nervousness and arousal, your skin bursted into chills despite how hot and sweaty you were beginning to feel. You kept your eyes trained to anywhere but Bucky’s assets.

"What's wrong, pretty girl? Cat's got your tongue?" he teased.

"James," you said sternly.

"Baby, I can make you feel so good. All you have to do is say the word," he whispered in your ear, making you shudder.

You know deep inside you that this wasn't a good idea in the long run. It sounds so tempting now but what would happen afterwards? What would happen to your friendship?

"Stop thinking so hard. Just let me make you feel good, please," he begged.

His hands caressed your sides and you couldn't resist squirming; he hasn't even touched you.

"I can tell you're starving. Itching to be touched by someone. Those lonely nights with a laptop and your fingers isn't enough. I can help you, pretty girl. Give you so much and more; give you nirvana. Just say the word," he spoke slowly, sensually; you were damn near shaking just from his words.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what?" he teased; Bucky was drunk off the power he had over you.

"Fuck me. Use me. Ruin me," you begged.

"As you wish."

Bucky grabbed the back of your neck smashing his lips to yours. He grinded his hips into you and you feel his hard on digging into you. Your fingers dug into the soft skin of his chest leaving small red marks and scratches littered.

Bucky moved his hand up behind your head, curling his fingers in your hair pulling harshly. his lips instantly attached to your neck biting and sucking to mark you, so you remember he was the one who made you feel euphoric in the coming days. He wants you to remember this night.

"Shit, that feels so good," you sighed.

"That's just the beginning, pretty girl. Get on the bed," he demanded.

You scurried to bed tearing your shirt and shorts off leaving you in your dark lacey undergarments.

"It's like you were ready for me to fuck you," he chuckled darkly.

He crawled up the bed to you like an animal hunting and taunting its prey. You couldn't help but nibble on your bottom lip, anxious for what was to come from Bucky.

His hands gripped your waist firmly pulling impossibly close to his body. He kissed you again and you swore you could stay like that forever. His lips felt so soft again yours, you melted against his body from pleasure.

His hands circled your back and pulled at the bra clasp before swiftly undoing it and letting free. You shrugged your shoulders to your ears allowing the straps of the bra fall gracefully down your upper arm before Bucky curled his finger over the front and tossed it aside to admire your chest.

Your shoulders subconsciously caved in, embarrassed to be so unclothed in front of someone for the first time. Again, you weren't innocent but anyone would still be nervous for their first time. Bucky smiled softly at your timidness; his hands rubbing your sides slowly and comforting to help ease your nerves a bit.

"You are so gorgeous, baby."

"Don't get sappy, Barnes," you joked; but in reality you don't need another reason to fall deeper for him. Not that you're falling to begin with.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned.

He flipped the both of you over so you laid on your back. His hands gently kneaded your breasts pulling moans from you with every squeeze. He leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting your perked buds, circling his tongue around. Your back arched into him and you think you can handle the pleasure but you find yourself involuntarily getting higher and higher. Moaning and gasping louder every time Bucky would bite down hard on your nipple. The last straw was when Bucky brought his fingers between your thighs and barely pressed against your aching clit that you fell suddenly over the edge crying Bucky's name.

"Did you just-"

"Fuck, I'm sorry! I don't know what happened. I- Everything just-"

Bucky cut you off with a deep kiss.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled.

"It's really hot that I was able to make you cum by just playing with these beauties," he flicked your nipples and squeezed your breats making you tremble.

“Shit, too much,” you whined.

Bucky ignored you once again, dipping his head back down, flicking his tongue over your overly sensitive buds. The squeal you made made Bucky chuckle darkly but he didn’t want to torture you so his lips trailed slowly down the valley of your breasts to you belly and hip bones. His fingers curled over your panties dragging them slowly down your legs.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. You’re dripping. You’ve just been aching for me to get my hands on you for a while, huh?” Bucky taunted.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

Bucky’s hands rested against your knees pushing them as far as they could go before diving in you like a starved man. Truthfully, Bucky had dreamed of this moment since he met you for the first time moving in. As the days, weeks, and years went by, the urge to resist kissing and fucking you stupid was getting all to much. But now he finally has you under him, at his mercy and he was determined to pleasure as much as he could before getting his cock anywhere near you.

Bucky brought his fingers to circle your entrance, waiting until your legs were nearly shaking from the teasing. As he pushed his fingers past your folds, he brought his mouth down again kissing right above your clit. You gasped and sighed in pleasure as he pumped his fingers in and out of you heavenly.

“Shit, feels so good. So, so good,” you moaned.

Bucky’s tongue brushed over your clit and you couldn’t resist bucking your hips, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. Your back arched off the bed and your hands shot to his head tugging on his dark locks harshly. Bucky’s moans from your tugs vibrated against you and you knew you weren’t going to last any longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Bucky! Shit!” you shrieked.

“Come on, pretty girl. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers,” he said.

Seconds later, you reached your high, crying Bucky’s names again as if it was the only word you knew how to say. Your head practically dangled off the bed, scooting closer and closer to edge desperate to pull away from Bucky’s talented mouth.

“God, you’re beautiful when you fall apart like that,” Bucky mumbled against your heated skin.

Sweat lined your forehead and your chest, your hair was scattered across the sheets like a maniac, and your skin along your neck down to your inner thighs was littered with little bruises and bite marks from Bucky. You looked ethereal.

“One more. Can you give me one more?” Bucky asked softly.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Such a good girl. I know you can, come on.”

Bucky gently flipped your body over, laying you on your stomach. He kissed down your spine, whispering sweet and kind things to you. You can’t even register what he’s saying because his godly erection is poking your ass and you're practically aching again to be railed by him.

“So eager for my cock, aren’t ya? Already being such a greedy little whore.”

“Please, Bucky,” you begged, wiggling your ass against his crotch.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good; gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your earlobe.

He stood tall on his knees behind you gripping your hips, roughly pulling them flush against his pelvis; you pushed yourself up on your hands. He grabbed his aching cock, the tip red and leaking with precum. Bucky doesn’t even know how he was able to last so long without cumming but he did and now all he wants to do is cum deep inside you.

“Ready, pretty girl?” he teased, rubbing your cheeks softly with his hands.

“Fuck me good, James,” you moaned.

Bucky lined his dick with your entrance slowly pushing the tip past your folds. The burning sensation caused you to hiss and tense around Bucky, who instantly stopped his movements.

“No, it’s ok; you’re just bigger than I was anticipating,” you fussed.

“It’s ok. If it’s too much you tell me to stop,” Bucky told you.

“No, don’t stop, please!” you whined.

“Don’t get greedy,” Bucky warned.

“Think you can handle all of me?”

“Fuck,” you muttered.

He pushed his hips further in you slowly, careful to not hurt you. His hands ran slowly up your body before curling his fingers through your hair and pulling your head up. Once he bottomed out, he rested for a minute until you were ready for him to move.

“Holy fucking hell, baby. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, shit,” Bucky groaned above you.

“I feel so- full.”

“‘S like you were made for me, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s hips began to move faster and faster pulling moans from you that was music to his ears. Bucky relished in your sex. He used every ounce of willpower in him to keep control but you felt so heavenly, so sublime. He couldn’t hold back any longer. You could tell that Bucky was holding back and you didn’t want him to. He pleasured you twice already, it was his turn to feel good and if letting go would do that for him you would let him.

“Come on, Bucky. Fuckin’ ruin me!”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grunted, still thrusting his hips.

“I can take it, baby. Use me,” you told him.

Bucky’s hips stilled only for a second before you felt a sharp stinging on your right ass cheek.

“You want me to fuck you like a whore? Fine, I will,” Bucky growled before pulling out and flipping you over.

Bucky rammed his hips into you fast and rough. His hand went to wrap around your throat squeezing the sides and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimmed your eyes and you cried out over and over again. You felt used, corrupted, violated. You love it.

“Fuck, yes!”

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking come,” Bucky groaned.

Bucky released your throat before dipping his head in the crook of your neck. His groans and moans were muffled by your skin. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your legs too wrapped around his torso pulling his body flushed against yours. Your nails ran down Bucky’s back; he breathed in sharply through gritted teeth before moaning loudly in your ear from the pleasurable sting.

Chasing his release along with yours, Bucky’s thrusts became relentless. Animalistic. Feral, even. Everything felt overwhelming. It didn’t take much longer until you felt Bucky’s stuttering thrusts and the spurts of warm cum coating your velvety walls. Bucky completely relaxed on top of you, his breath heavily hitting your sweaty skin. You scratched his back softly coming down from your own high breathing equally as heavily.

“You feeling ok, pretty girl?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a stupid grin on your face.

“You did amazing, you know?” Bucky kissed you softly; your stomach fluttering at the action.

“What now?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Now, I’m going to take care of you,” Bucky said, hopping off you and the bed.

You laid there breathing slowly now. You didn’t have the energy to move at this point. Your inner thighs burned deliciously and the soreness began to be more apparent all over your body. Bucky came back with a warm towel and bottle of water from the kitchen. He cleaned you up with the towel and you could help the soft moans and whimpers that escaped from you. Once you were cleaned, Bucky helped you sit up and held the now open water bottle for you to hydrate yourself. You couldn’t shake the butterflies and chills you got from Bucky’s stare. He couldn’t take his eyes off you anymore; like you hung the moon and stars for him.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“Nothing,” he grinned.

“Come on. You’ve gotta go pee,” he said carrying you in his arms towards his bathroom.

“No, I just want to go to sleep already,” you whined, voice muffled in the crook of his neck.

Bucky sat on you on the toilet and waited for you to… do your business. You just sat there squirming, and shaking from the cold that hit your body.

“Come on. You have to,” Bucky explained.

“I know, but I can’t pee in front of you. I’m shy,” you mumbled.

“Seriously, I just fucked-”

“Bucky, please,” you cut him off.

“Oh alright. Come back to bed when you’re finished, pretty girl,” Bucky said before leaving you.

You couldn’t shake the smile off your face. He was being so caring and nice to you, it warmed your heart. You felt a bit of heartbreak however wondering if this was just a one time thing. You cleaned yourself again and washed your hands before snatching one of Bucky's t-shirts that laid on the floor. When you came out Bucky was fiddling with his camera that was still set-up and your heart dropped.

Had he recorded the whole thing?

“I was gonna delete all the footage, but in all honesty you look so fucking sexy. Might keep it for myself,” he said winking.

“You recorded the whole thing without telling me?” you asked, tearing up.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m not gonna post it anywhere. You sorta screamed my name a few times so footage ain’t good anyway,” he said, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding. I’ll delete all of it, I promise,” he cupped your face.

“Come here; I gotta do one more thing for you,” he said, laying you down on the bed once again.

“What are you doing?” Bucky grabbed another towel and some scented lotion placing it on his bedside table.

“I’m gonna give you a massage. You’ll be less sore tomorrow morning. I’ll admit I was a bit rough,” he said, kissing your belly as he lifted his shirt off your body.

“You do this to all the girls you sleep with?” you teased, not really wanting an answer but you’ll play a part if it keeps from being humiliated because of feelings.

“Only the pretty girls,” he says, fully referencing his nickname he gave you a while ago.

“And how many pretty girls might you have?”

“There’s only one,” he whispered; his hands massaging along your back slowly, sensually.

“She must be really lucky,” you whispered too, afraid of speaking too loud.

“If anything, I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s perfect. Beautiful. Smart. I could go on about her.”

“She sounds like a prude,” you joked.

“She was,” he chuckled.

“But trust me, now she’s a real feisty and sexy woman,” Bucky said before biting down hard on one of your ass cheeks.

“Ow! Bucky!” you squealed, making Bucky laugh.

Bucky tossed the towel away and placed the lotion back on the bedside table before grabbing the blankets and crawling under them with you. He held you close, entangling his legs with yours, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You mean all that?” you asked barely audibly.

“Yeah. I do, pretty girl.”

“You don’t have to delete the video,” you smirked, making Bucky laugh out loud.

He kissed your forehead snuggling closer to you, letting peaceful sleep envelop you both.

=============================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101-blog​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720

@missroro

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

[siempre-pedro]

Run Away With Me

Kang Sae-Byeok x Fem!Reader

Summary: She won the prize, well at least half of it. A gold card burned a hole in her hand as she looks at you for the first time in 2 weeks. She was here to get you, steal the girl and make a grand getaway.

WC: 1.4k

A/N:...do you remember when I wrote fanfics? lol we're gonna pretend Sae and Gi-Hun won the damn thing. This is probably my worst writing, it's hella messy...we'll consider this a warm up. I tried to edit this...kinda. Pls be kind XD

Want to request a Sae-Byeok fic? My inbox is open!

You should have already been in bed, lights turned off to take the pain away for another 8 hours. Yet here you were, lights dimly illuminating your apartment in the sky, ant-like people still stumbling home on a late Sunday night. You hated to glance at the faint reflection of yourself in the tall windows. Eyes nearing permanent red, and when was the last time you washed your hair? Since when was dry shampoo not your lifeline?

Right, when she stayed the night and begged to use your new shampoo so her hair would smell like yours. Wonder if it still smelled that way where ever she was? You pulled her favorite jacket closer to your frame, tears threatening to make their long-awaited appearance. Your thoughts raced again, where was she? Why did she disappear like that? Was she safe? Why didn't she take you with her?

It's been two weeks since she left you, tossing her things into a duffle bag, hurriedly making her way out of your apartment.

"Where are you going Sae?" you recalled yourself asking that fateful night.

"I need to make money," she responds in a hushed tone. You reach out and grab her arm, turning her around. The fear was apparent in her deep brown eyes. "I have to get my mom a-and Cheol. They're depending on me."

"Sae, let my family help. Please! We can get your mom and your brother and we can go somewhere! Just like we planned. Jeju? Remember?"

"I'm not a charity case, Y/N," she spats, "I have to do this on my own. I'll be back in a few days."

You didn't think that would be the last kiss she ever gave you. It was like she was desperately etching every detail of your lips to memory. She walked out the door and those few days turned into two weeks.

Shaking your head you turn away from the windows, your palms over your aching eyes to wipe the stinging tears away. Instantly regretting putting on mascara that day "Fuck," you muttered.

Once you removed your hands everything appeared blurry, you winced and blinked rapidly as you looked around. Everything was eventually coming together, even that blob by your front door. Wait a minute. You took a few steps and rubbed your eyes.

That blob was not a figment of your imagination. Sae-Byeok was there in the flesh. First, you were in astonishment that she returned to you, then you got a look at her. Wearing the same clothes she wore when she left, her eyes were dark with her left sporting a deep black eye. Her once plush, full lips were split and stained with blood... as was the rest of her.

"Sae-Byeok!" You gasped, running towards the stoic figure, wrapping her in the tightest hug you could muster. Sae winced and wrapped her lanky arms around her lover. Her fingertips feel the cool of her windbreaker, re-learning the smell of her sweet perfume, a complete contrast to the constant smell of blood and gunpowder. "Where were you?" you sobbed through gritted teeth.

She wasn't ready to answer that question, her tears falling from her bruised eyes "We need to go," she croaks, holding your face in her hands, her thumbs pressing into your jawbone. Your hands cover her wrists, eyebrow raised in question.

"Why are you all bloody?"

"We need to get away, now," she pleads, the panic rising. Oh fuck... it dawned on her what if they come back...those demons in pink and shaped masks. Coming to take the little gold card in her pocket "We need to go...we'll come back I promise, my love, but we have to go! Y/N!"

You still stood there dumbfounded as she hurriedly crossed the room and down the hall, limping into your room. The sounds of closet doors opening and hushed curses hit your ears. You felt paralyzed. Did she kill someone? Maybe it was the guy with the tacky neck tattoo you had the displeasure of meeting one day.

Your eyes spot your keys and purse on the coffee table "we need to go," echoes in your mind. Your feet finally began to move, draping the bag across your body, phone removed from its charger and hurriedly stuck in your back pocket. "Ready?" Sae-Byeok pants, her fingers running through her bangs, the other clutching the handle to your suitcase.

You nod and close the blinds, making your way to her. She grips your wrist tightly as she forces you through the door. Her eyes never glanced back, always looking forward at the silver doors to the elevator.

She never explained what happened while on the way down to the street, you asked but she remained tight-lipped. Whatever it was it must have been traumatized, like the time she tried to open up about North Korea.

You make your way onto the pavement, she fumbled with the keys in her pocket. When she finally hit the button she wanted, the alarm to a car beeped Your head whipped around to see a very expensive-looking car parked in front of the building "I-is that yours?"

Sae smirked and shook her head "It's a loaner," she said. That asshole Deok-Su owed her for all the pain. She breathed in the warm summer air, they were mid steps from true freedom. It was calming.

"You stole the keys," you assumed, looking back at her. Dare you say she looked normal...her sly confident demeanor was there again just with a few more cuts and bruises. She looked at you and nodded with that smirk on her lips that gave you butterflies.

You stepped forward and reached up, gliding your fingertips up the sides of her face "Where did you go?" You asked again.

She looked down at her shoes, then back up at you "I really don't want to talk about it right now... I just want to get us away from here." she reaches in her pocket and clutches the gold card.

Reaching up on your tippy-toes you placed your lips over hers, you could hear her breath hitch. he gently pulls back and places her forehead on yours "Are you ready?"

You had no idea what she went through in the time she was gone, but here she was. Telling you to run away with her, taking you away from the city like she promised so many times in late-night conversations. You suddenly had no desire to know what happened. The need to get in the car and let her take you wherever she wanted, and maybe let you tend to her wounds.

You nod and smile, she was finally back "Yeah, Sae. Let's go."

[ssa-steverogers]

𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨

pairing ╏ aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count ╏ 2.4k

summary ╏ a couple years have passed, and aaron and reader begin to question their status; inspired by two ghosts by harry styles

warnings ╏ none (?) please tell me if i missed anything x

note ╏ guys. i haven't written fanfics for like three years!1!!1!1! so i apologize in advance for any mistakes and grammar errors! i do hope you enjoy though! and also for the sake of the fic, jack and haley don't exist sorry guys lol and the ending is kind of bonk bonk but leave a like, comment, or reblog if you want! <3

I couldn’t pick up the phone. I sat back on the chair in the apartment we bought a couple years ago. But it tasted bittersweet just thinking about it; something I was supposed to cherish but couldn’t. The two plates of food on the table were now dull. What was once smoking and bled with heat was now encrusted in a dry film; unappetizing.

The phone continued to ring. Once. Twice. A pause. Once. Twice. Three times. But after the eleventh call, I figured he stopped. Aaron had forgotten his key that morning. It's almost humorous how he could tell the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath in his sleep but forgot the simplest things like our house key. And our fifth anniversary.

Earlier today, I had asked Aaron to go home early. But even after five years of marriage, eight of living together, and ten of dating, he couldn’t seem to care less of my whereabouts lately. Distracted, distant, and rigid.

“Hotch,” I swung into his dimly lit office earlier that day, “I'm going to be headed home early tonight. I-“

“Alright, see you at home,” Aaron continued writing his paperwork and took half a second to glance up at me. It’s unclear if he meant to cut me off or not but it didn’t matter because it would’ve hurt either way. Distant, I thought. A quick look at his office and nothing would’ve seemed different but I thought I saw more clutter than usual.

“Okay, well... I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late!” I tried to look past it, for now. I blew a kiss his way and he looked up to smile at me briefly. The smile reached his eyes but I couldn't tell if it was genuine. His pen didn’t stop writing. Distracted, I thought. “Bye, I love you,” I breathed out and quickly shut the door, walking out to gather my stuff. I didn’t wait for his reply; unsure if he even had one. I wondered what he’d say. And if it’d hurt more than what his words didn’t say.

Looking at my watch on the way to my desk, it was half past four and it was clear to say that no one was done with paperwork yet.

“Where are you going?” Spencer questions, catching Emily’s attention. She looks up from her pile of work as well.

“Well, things to do and places to be,” I smiled at the two, putting my tablet into my bag. I grabbed my gun from my drawer and put it to my holster. Emily smiled knowingly. She knew it was me and Aaron’s fifth anniversary. Emily even helped pick out the perfect outfit for tonight’s homemade dinner. She also knew about Aaron’s behavior lately. We both thought of it and we discussed every scenario except the worst one yet. He wouldn’t do that to me, I would think to myself, not after what Haley did to him. It was the unspoken what if that I wasn't ready to swallow yet.

Emily and Spencer waved me goodbye and she wished me good luck, along with a smile that was poisoned in pity. I was almost entirely sure it wasn’t on purpose but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. I walked out the door, into the elevator, and it felt so repetitive. The same elevator every day, the same building every day, living the same life every single day. I’d casually mention to Aaron how the repetition felt like a lot sometimes over paperwork in our office at home and he’d hum quietly. Maybe in agreement. We both loved our job. The same thing every time; but we were saving lives. Maybe it was the effect of his changed behavior. Maybe he felt it because he thought my behavior changed as well.

The same thing every time; coming home separately, even though we used to come back together. We were drifting and although it wasn’t the first time, we always resolved it. Things happen and we’d come out stronger and I had never had a doubt. Sometimes the job was hard and I was there for him, and he was there for me but it was different this time. He'd come home late and I'd be asleep by the time he got back. Then, I started to do paperwork at the local coffee shop and he’d be sitting in our office, waiting for me to get back.

No words would be exchanged once we were together for the night. Maybe a ‘hey’ or ‘how was your day?’ and then a simple ‘good.’ We’d both change our clothes and get into the bed. We were getting further and further away every night in bed. Too exhausted to think of words for this odd place we were in. Sometimes he'd hug me and take a deep breath and I'd release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something was just not working this time. Trust your gut, Aaron used to say to me when I first joined the BAU. My gut told me that this couldn’t keep on going at the rate this seemed to be deteriorating.

All these moments led to right now. The phone rings beside me as Aaron waits outside in the drizzling rain at eight o’clock, without the key that he forgot this morning. I unlocked my phone to read the messages exchanged earlier tonight.

today 7:40

y/n: hey aaron are you still at the office?

love: Yes, is there something going on?

y/n: aaron

love: Yes?

y/n: oh you forgot, didn’t you?

love: Forgot?

y/n: aaron, it’s our anniversary?

read 7:46

I purse my lips and wonder if he still loves me. Of course, he does, my mind wanders, would he have been with you for ten years if he didn’t? I chuckle sadly. The food on the table now cold, the outfit Emily and I chose doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. The candles on the tables nearly half melted. The dining room looked eerie now, sitting by myself on a Thursday night with two uneaten plates of food with candles nearly burnt out.

That’s when I hear him knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N? Please let me in. I didn't forget, I just,” Aaron’s sigh is muffled by the door but I hear it clear as day when I get out of my seat and walk up to the door. I think he hears me walking to the front and continues. “I was distracted. Something isn’t right between us right now and we should talk about it. I’m sorry, Y/N, please let me in so we can talk.” I sigh in defeat and unlock the door, slowly. The door opens and his hair is flat from the rain, briefcase tucked under his arm with his phone in the other hand. But his posture isn’t as upright as it usually is – he probably knows he fucked up. I wonder if he’s been profiling me from my texts, or my current body language even though we promised we wouldn’t do that to each other.

He walks through the threshold of this house but his eyes don’t waver from mine as he sets his stuff down and puts his gun away in the drawer. A glimmer of his keys reflects the light in the drawer. It’s almost funny, how he remembers his gun but not his keys even though they were in the exact same place. It makes me wonder about the integrity of our situation and if he had left the keys on purpose.

I walk to the dining table with the food I made and turn away from Aaron. I’m not sure about what to say. I've obviously been avoiding this conversation for quite some time and even after all this procrastination; I still don’t even know what to say. I hear Aaron's footsteps from behind me and I wait to see if he has anything to say. After I'm sure that he doesn’t, I begin.

“Aaron,” I turn around to face him. I smile grimly, feeling tears prickle at the back of my eyes and it hurts to swallow, “What the hell happened to us?” Aaron stands there, arms crossed and a hand on his chin. Crossing arms suggests closing yourself off and is a gesture of defensiveness. “What happened to our Thursday night dates? Aaron- I don’t- I mean,” I struggle to complete a sentence when millions of thoughts are racing through my head, “I know you’re not happy. Sure, maybe everyone thinks that you don’t show a lot of emotion but I know you and you have a tell for specific things. When was the last time we really talked about how we felt about us? C’mon, Aaron, who are we bullshitting? We weren’t communicating and you know that it’s one of the most important parts of a healthy relationship.”

“Why are you using past tense?” Aaron asks and he’s doing the face he only gives to people he thinks are suspicious.

“What are you talking about? And why are you giving me that face?” I pause and Aaron tries to cut in but I get to it first. I make a face and pull my eyebrows together. “Are you profiling me right now?”

Aaron looks taken aback at my comment. “Are you?” Oh. When I don’t say anything he continues, “You’re using past tense when you mention our… marriage and relationship. If you have anything you want to say you should say it now. There really isn’t a better time,” His voice grows cold on me, the same way he does to unsubs we interrogate. I don’t think the ice in his tone is intentional but he probably can’t help it. He’s right though, should I confirm my suspicions? I don’t want to hear his answer to my question in fear that it might be the wrong one. But he is right, this conversation is long overdue.

“Are you cheating on me?” I breathe out at once. “Are you?” The tears are getting harder and harder to hold back and time seems to move slower by the second.

“Y/N, what? No, I'm not! Why would you think that? I could never do that to you. You know about Haley and how she cheated! And you think I'd do that to you?”

“You were just distant lately and-“

“Distant?” He pauses, I know he wouldn’t interrupt me if not necessary so I let him go on, “Y/N, so are you. I didn't think you were cheating. I thought you needed time and that I needed mine. I had thought about what you had said a couple weeks ago about how repetitive life felt.” I nodded at his words. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.” A pang of guilt radiates in my chest, because I think we both know how this was going to end.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” I walk a little closer to him and cradle his face in my hands. He rubs circles on my wrists, caressing me and I do the same to his face. Tears are spilling from my eyes, down my cheeks, “Aaron Hotchner, I love you more than anything in this whole entire fucking world. I know you love me and that I love you but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life and we both know what’s coming. It’s been unspoken for too long, I know that. But whatever happens, you have to know that I love you. We had our good days,” I look around to see picture frames on the walls of our relationship in earlier stages. Smiling, dancing, laughing. I remember each and every one of the pictures and thinking that this would be the man I would love for the rest of my days. “And we had bad days. There will never come a day that I forget all the wonderful things that we had. I’m using past tense now because I think-“

“I think you’re right,” Aaron quietly cuts me off. “We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve changed but we can’t grow like this. I love you too, more than words will ever be able to encompass but maybe we’re feeling stuck, not bored or repetitive.” I want to say something for the hell of being a couple for probably the last moments but I don’t want to stray far from the truth. Aaron’s eyebrows turn downwards a bit and his eyes are glimmering with tears. He envelopes my body in his and leaves a quiet kiss on my hairline.

I take a deep breath of air, trying to savor this moment for the rest of my life. My face is wet from tears and they won’t stop falling. I hiccup from the crying in his grasp so he plays with my hair fondly and almost inaudibly hums to me.

“Will we be okay? I mean,” A hiccup, or three. “I don’t want either of us to leave the BAU because of this but also will we be okay? In terms of feelings and… well, more feelings.”

“Of course,” Aaron begins. “I don’t love you any less but we both agree that things will be better this way. We just... go back to how it used to be before you asked me to a drink for the first time,” I can feel his small grin as he leans against my head. Being reminded of that day hurts now, but it has for a while anyway. I wonder if I hadn’t asked him to that drink one night after a local case, if we’d be where we are now. But I know everything here was nothing less than fate itself and that I probably shouldn’t dwell on what if’s.

And so after some moments of silence for something that would soon be gone, we stand underneath the dim lights of the dining room. Aaron holds me against his chest as we look at the candles on the table. They’re both burnt out. There’s no light there anymore. The candle has melted onto the chamberstick, leaving long trails of wax.

I hold him a little tighter and he does the same to me. I don’t know what the future holds but our two halves have drifted too far to come back together and that’s okay. I know things will be weird for a while but it’ll be okay.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper under my breath. For the sake of us, we'd leave it here. Once upon a time, we were younger and more naive, better for each other then. But we're older now and we're stuck. Just two ghosts standing in the place of him and me.

[elriel-oblivion]

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

__

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