#long way ahead is turning so many gears in my brain

[hydralune]

Between the two, who is the art piece, and who is the artist?

[itsgrimeytime]

i know i got him || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn! reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter

Summary: Ever since you showed up, you've had an effect on Rick. At least, that's what everyone said. Initially, you hadn't recognized it. But after one too many coincidences, it's starting to become a little impossible to ignore.

TWs: flirting, simp behavior, cursing, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Was listening to this song nonstop (so good btw) and my brain went... hmm. Rick is terribly down bad in this. Like eager to do things for you, following you around like a puppy dog, the works. Also this gif????? girl... Enjoy :)))) ]]

You had never really thought about how you affected him. Or how they thought you did, anyway.

"You're being ridiculous," you stated -plainly.

Maggie was trying desperately to convince you that you had one Rick Grimes wrapped around your finger. Rick Grimes? Wrapped around your finger? No way.

"Do you remember yesterday? When he went on a run to find you a pair of shoes?"

"That was not why he went out on a run," you laughed a little, mindlessly bouncing Judith against your side, "-we need more as a community than just-"

"Then, why-" she interjected, "-did he only come back with shoes?"

"He didn't," you countered, "-He had some cans of food, I remember."

"Two," she relented, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, "-he went out on a run for two cans of food?"

"Sometimes you can't find much-"

"Oh my god," Maggie rolled her eyes, "-you are unbelievable. Let me just show ya-"

You pursed your lips, as she walked ahead of you -beelining to Rick. She had quite the pep in her step, pregnant and all, "Show me?"

Before you could call out to her, she was at Rick's side. He seemed to be talking to Deanna, actually, and if he was talking to Deanna, it was probably important. He smiled at her, in a Rick sort of way, until she started motioning to you. You had no idea what she was saying, but his eyes flicked to you instinctively.

Now, you'd never thought about if he smiled differently at you, but it was kind of hard to ignore right now.

Eyes dipping over you and Judith, the bright grin on his face was very different than the one for Maggie previously. And it wasn't even like that one wasn't genuine, you could tell it was, this one was just different.

It was crinkly eyes and shining white teeth. It surprised you that it didn't even seem unfamiliar to you; how long had he been smiling at you like this? And you had just normalized it?

You guessed you didn't have a direct comparison but still-

You smiled back (maybe just as bright, you weren't sure) and gently waved.

Watching him laugh a little and shake his head (like he couldn't believe you were waving at him?), your eyes darted to the ever-so-slight pinks of his ears.

Before you could think about it, Maggie said something to grab his attention (eyes stuck to you before snapping to her), and they were both on the way to your side. Something worried in Rick's eyes, you felt some guilt coil into your stomach; what had Maggie said?

You couldn't ask about it before he was already at your side, hands itching to fuss over you -you could tell. He seemed to let them win.

"Maggie said ya got a headache?"

Right, it was a sort of offhand remark to Maggie. And it was hurting, the sun even stung your eyes a bit. But he left that conversation (obviously very important) because you had a headache?

The gears in your head were turning, and Maggie seemed to watch them -eyes stuck to your face. You couldn't believe it yet, there had to be a reason.

"Rick," you started, "-it's fine. It's minor, had it since I woke up this morning, I can-"

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes gleamed with concern, hands coming to rest on your arm, "Ya had it since 'is mornin'?"

Shit.

"Yeah," you answered, still trying to fight your case, "-but really, Rick, it's nothing. I can manage-"

"Ya should go rest," he interrupted, taking Judith from your arms, "-least til' it gets a lil' better. 'S hurtin' your eyes, I can tell."

How did he know that?

"Rick, seriously-"

"I'll take ya home," he hummed, carefully, "-and I'll come back in an hour to check on ya-"

"Rick," you tried again.

"-Get some medicine from the doc', and bring it to ya myself," he finished, something in him decided.

You pursed your lips, trying a different angle, "Shouldn't you be getting back to Deanna?"

"She can wait," he responded, simply.

"Well," you frowned, "-it has to be important, I don't want to-"

"'S not as important as you."

The words faltered in your throat, and Maggie looked at you in a way that you could hardly grasp. Mouthing 'I told ya so', you thought on it. Maybe he was just concerned, I mean one thing-

And then, his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you home, and your brain promptly turned off.

Ever since that conversation, you'd been trying to reason. Keeping watch on your interactions with Rick (he did always smile at you like that, fyi), you were trying to rationalize it. Give it a reason. Other than what Maggie, and others, said, but it started stacking up.

It was a dreaded day, laundry day. And out of the cycle, it was your turn.

Sometimes, the people of Alexandria would just air dry their clothes for conservation reasons, really. And every time, there was someone assigned the duty. A little like how the meals were made, and someone had to help Carol -not that she'd ask for it. She was a little stubborn like that.

That being said, no one, and you mean no one, liked to do laundry. Specifically, because you had to get up early (to make sure you got all the sun power you could), and it took hours. Especially on your own.

You basically crawled out of bed at 4, maybe 5, in the morning. Still in your pajamas, you stalked through the streets of Alexandria -dragging your feet a little, you won't lie. Making your way over to the air drying area, you pulled out all the baskets and placed them along the ground -organized. It was probably the only time you ever really were these days.

Putting your hands on your hips, you let out a big, long sigh.

"Well," you tried to smile, still so asleep that your voice was cracking, "-the sooner I start, the sooner the hell ends."

Before you could even grab a single piece of clothing, a voice interrupted you -low in drawl like maybe he had just woken up.

"Ya need some help?"

Your eyes shot to him and something in your chest fluttered, stirring in your stomach. Rick was still in his pajamas (plaid pants low, and a plain t-shirt), eyes still heavy with sleep like maybe he'd just woken up too, and his hair probably the messiest you'd ever seen. There was a curl hanging in front of his head, you got the urge to fix it.

And maybe it was because you were half awake, but you did. The smile he got on his face after made warmth shoot to your toes -all dopey and sleepy. You kind of just wanted to gather him up in your arms, and maybe fall asleep on his chest (woodsy smell and body warmth). Luckily, that urge didn't come to fruition.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"

Not only was it odd that he was up this early, but like you said no one likes laundry duty. So why was he offering to help at all? If he had duties this early, shouldn't he be going and doing them? Why-

"'Eard it was your turn," he spoke, low and gravelly (you had no idea how to handle that), "- an' wanted to help ya."

You pressed your lips together, mind chiming 'wrapped around your finger'.

No one likes laundry duty.

"Thank you, Rick, but-" you started, "-I can tell you're still tired and I know for a fact you have a lot to do later today, so-"

"Nothin' to do," he hummed, wiping at his eye. Cute.

That had to be a lie.

"Asked Deanna for a break," he clarified, looking at you a certain type of way, "-Needed one anyway, thought I'd help ya."

"You're," you sputtered, a little in disbelief, "-You're taking a break day to help me with laundry? It is so much work-"

"Won't feel like work if I'm wit' ya."

Good god. Was he always this sweet? You couldn't have been that oblivious. Seriously.

"Guess I could use some company," you muttered, a little flattered but you tried to hide it. Rick just smiled at you in a way that made your breath hitch in your chest, you wavered on your feet.

"But, seriously," you added, "-if you need to take a break, on your break day, let me know, I'll-"

"'S long as you're workin'," he smiled, big and bright, "-I'm workin'."

"Is that," you laughed a little, "-Is that your way of making me take a break?"

He smiled differently then, mischievous, "Maybe."

You bit your lip and decidedly turned to the baskets, "Let's get to work then, Grimes, the faster we start, the faster we're done."

He joined your side, close enough to touch, it made your head spin a little. Before speaking, low like maybe a mutter, and maybe even nervous-

"Ya mind if I stick by ya for the day? 'Ve got nothin' else to do, figured I'd just be wit' ya. If 'at's alright?"

Good god.

You swallowed, blinking, but not quite turning to him, "Of course, you... Yeah, of course. I mean, I might have more chores-"

"I don't mind," he hummed, gentle, already hanging up something -not looking at you, "-'s long as it's wit' ya."

You blinked, damp shirt in your hands, just staring at him. Watching as he carefully clipped up the clothes, big hands ever-so-gentle like he didn't just drop probably the sweetest thing you'd ever heard. Genuinely too.

Shit, maybe they're onto something.

You decided to ask around.

"Honest question, Carol," you hummed, thumbing through a few of the ingredients. It was your day to help her, it's probably one of your favorite chores. You really enjoyed her presence, she was a close friend. Long story short, you trusted her judgment.

She hummed, gently grabbing one of the ingredients.

"This may sound so stupid, just know that I'm acknowledging that," you clarified, now looking at her, "-but do you think Rick is into me?"

Carol paused a moment, trying to decide how to react maybe, and you could already see her reaction. She was just a little too polite to say it instantly.

"Shit," you muttered, "-really?"

She pursed her lips, looking at you with a little pity almost, "'Fraid so. It's..."

She fell silent for a second, you just watched -patiently.

"-Everyone knows," she continued, hesitantly (like maybe she didn't want to embarrass you), "-Rick... I think he's been into you since the prison."

"The prison?" you nearly exclaimed, stalling in place. No way, "-what did he-"

"Remember the week 'at you were sick?"

Right, you'd been a little delirious from something. Maybe a little more than a cold? Nothing super serious, you remember Hershel telling you that but you had to rest. He was pretty sturdy on that. Turned out you couldn't have been doing anything, it made you feverish and nearly sleeping all the time-

"Ya ever wondered who took care of you?" she questioned, directly.

"No," you laughed, "-it was Hershel, he was the medic-"

"You sure?" Carol countered, eyes peeking at you -leveling a stare, "-He was feeding you, gettin' ya water? Stayed by your bedside?"

You faltered, something in you twisting, "Carol."

You'd remembered something like Rick feeding you, bites extended forward, and maybe the low timber of his voice. You'd just thought it was you being delirious; you had a thing for him, so you just-

"Carol," you repeated.

"He was there every day," she clarified, turning to the other side of the kitchen, "-as far as I know, he only left to do farmin' and see Carl or Judith. If you seemed to get worse, he got Hershel. But... otherwise..."

"Carol."

"None of us said anythin'," she added, busying her hands, "-because he didn't. 'At was his thing, it wasn't our place."

"For all this time?" you scurried to her side -hanging on to every word she said.

"Well," she sighed, turning to you fully now, "-we kinda figured he'd say something by now."

"God," you groaned, throwing your head into your hands, "-I have to be the dumbest person on the planet."

"To be fair," Carol soothed, "-ya didn't know."

You couldn't look Rick in the eyes for the rest of the day, or maybe you stared at him a lot more. It was all so confusing.

You decided then and there, that you'd try the most trustworthy person. The one who wouldn't lie to you, a little because he respected you too much. It did help that he was most definitely Rick's best friend.

"Hey, Daryl?"

You'd arranged a run with a few newcomers, and frankly made Daryl come because you wanted to have this conversation.

He didn't speak, just sort of grunted. It tracked.

"You're probably the most honest person I know," you cleared your throat, "-and I am pretty desperate at this point for just... honesty."

He turned to you fully then, something like concern in his eyes. The guy was truly a softie at his very core, you probably treasured your friendship the most out of everyone but it was a close call.

"Everythin' alright?"

You pursed your lips, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's a... probably stupid thing actually."

He kept walking forward through the aisles of the store you were in, stashing away some essentials. You were doing the same, well, you were trying to.

"Stupid thin'?" he asked, not looking at you.

"Yes, it's dumb as hell, frankly," you laughed a little, "-but I just... I guess I want to know the extent of it."

Daryl turned to you, eyebrows furrowed together, "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Rick," you answered, and he seemed to take a second at the name, "-Is he really into me? Like everyone seems to believe?"

He didn't answer at first, just simply turned back to the canned foods, "Carol tell ya 'bout the prison? When ya were sick?"

"Yes," you swallowed.

"Ya should know the answer to 'at then," he spoke -gruff and straightforward.

"Well," you tried to argue, "-it's hard to understand it. I just... I don't know."

Daryl said nothing, walking forward through the aisle. You followed him, keeping your eye out for more that he hadn't grabbed. And for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to say anything else.

Suddenly, he spoke up, "He can't focus when you're on runs. Deanna 'ates it."

You opened your mouth to ask just how he knew that, but he interrupted you.

"She complains," he clarified, before asking, "-Ya ever wonder why ya barely get put on runs? When everyone else is goin' in a cycle?"

"I..." you paused, mulling it over. When was the last time you were organically on a run? You'd arranged this one-

"Deanna don't put ya on 'em," Daryl explained, turning to you with some canned food in his hand, "-'cause she kno's Rick'll be useless. He'd be waitin' at the damn gate if he could."

You tried to speak, but he continued.

"He always asks someone ya were out wit' to keep an eye on ya. And 'en, when ya come back, asks 'at same person if ya got hurt at all. Scratches, cuts, if ya tripped probably-"

You didn't say a word.

"-I kno' 'cause I've been 'em," he clarified, and you were wordless.

You took a deep breath in, good god.

"So yea'," he answered finally, "-he's into ya."

And then, he moved forward and didn't say another word. He didn't really have to though.

You'd even watched this time, keeping an eye on Daryl and where he went after coming back from the run. And sure enough, Rick waltzed up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. You imagined you knew the conversation.

Yeah okay, your mind chimed, he has a thing for me.

The thing was, he might've been hesitant but you sure as hell weren't going to be. You might warm him up a little bit though, maybe just for a little fun.

He was wearing a new shirt. Kind of weird for you to notice, but it was the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing so often that it melded with them in your mind. You could still vividly picture what Rick looked like at the prison and sure, maybe that was for more reason than just that, but still.

You went a little on autopilot. Call it confirming what you already knew, basically. Or, at least, that's what you'd tell yourself.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed the collar of his (new) flannel was askew -just a little. Bingo.

You waltzed up to him and Deanna with no particular air of anything. Just normal, you wanted to see it for yourself really (the laundry thing was very telling, but you wanted to see the little things). Rick stuttered to a stop, words halting in his throat when you showed up, and your heart flipped in your chest. Stay focused.

"Hey, sorry," you apologized, genuinely (well, kind of), "-I just gotta-"

Carefully, you straightened out his collar.

You felt his eyes on you the whole time (just staring), it made your heartbeat pick up a little bit but, luckily, he couldn't quite see that.

"-There," you cheered, just a tiny one, and you saw a dopey sort of smile spread across his lips (it made you feel warm down to your toes).

You pat his chest once, feeling his body heat thrum against your hand -eyes connecting to his, "Like the new shirt, by the way."

He looked at you in a way that somehow seemed familiar but you'd never really noticed. You'd been noticing a lot more recently, to be fair.

With one last apology (eyes dashing to Deanna, who in retrospect looked a little annoyed), you politely made your exit.

Finding anywhere to go, you spotted Maggie -who was already looking at you.

Shit.

She approached you before you could go anywhere else, and you readied yourself for the onslaught.

"What was that?" she asked, carefully.

You resumed your step, maybe with a little too much pep, "His collar was messed up. I fixed it."

"No, no," she followed your lead, perfectly in time, "-you... you're doin' somethin', what are you doin'?"

"I'm not," you answered -plainly.

Maggie, frankly, didn't believe you (obviously).

You weren't sure what you were waiting for, maybe for him to realize? You knew you could've just told him yourself, and you really were going to... but every time you tried to walk up to him, your throat just clogged up. He would look at you that way (all dopey and sweet and affectionate) and you just-

God, you were useless.

It was late, way too late for you to be up (you should clarify), but you just couldn't sleep. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but at the same time, you knew exactly what it was.

Every day that you didn't tell him was another day wasted. It was the apocalypse. Every day was numbered, and you could be gone at any moment and there was no time to waste. But, you tried and tried and tried. It just wouldn't come out. You weren't sure why.

You groaned, pulling your pillow over your face for a moment. You had things to do tomorrow, couldn't you just have this crisis later-

And then, there was a knock.

Pausing, you waited a moment just to see if it was even real.

Knock.

It was a strong one too, maybe a little desperate, and fear shot through your spine. Before you could think too hard, you scrambled out of your bed -the chill of the night seeping into your skin. Your mind was in one lane, survival. Someone was probably hurt, something was happening-

With shaky hands, you pulled open your door, words on the edge of your tongue-

"Rick?"

He was standing at your door, hair mussed and in his pajamas (still the low-hanging plaid pants, you noted). You let yourself look at him a moment, taking in the domestic view of Rick you'd only seen once before. Seeing him like this almost made you forget your worry, but it still struck a cord in your chest.

You frantically searched over him (looking for wounds or blood), "Shit, are you alright? Did you g-"

"I'm okay, I'm okay-" he moved his hands to your shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut, "-Everythin's fine, darlin', relax."

"God," you let out a breath, centering yourself, "-you scared the shit out of me."

Rick smiled at you a certain type of way then, sleepy and still with that little glint, and let out a low sort of chuckle. Hair all mussed and eyes half closed, it might've been the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Sorry," he smiled at you, something twinkling in his eye, "-didn't mean to scare ya."

You waved it off, before falling a little more serious, "If there's nothing wrong, why are you here, Rick?"

He seemed to take a pause. Eyes flickering all over you, a bit in reverence. It made you either what to throw up or faint, you weren't totally sure which one.

"Are you-" you spoke, carefully, "-Are you emotionally okay? Do you need me to-"

"I need ya."

You faltered, barely digesting, "Need me to what? Whatever-"

"No," he clarified, something in his eyes, "-I just need ya."

"What?" you asked -half awake, and unsure if he was saying what you thought he was.

"Y/N," he started, eyeing your now connected hands, "-I want... Shit, I need ya wit' me."

"Rick," you spoke, softly, "-what are you talking about?"

"I'm tired of not bein' wit' ya-" he spoke, like it took everything in his body to say it -a little like he was pleading with you.

It felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and your heart was coughing up your throat. You felt totally and completely numb, all you could do was look at him.

He continued, eyes turning to match yours and grabbing your hands, "-I'm tired of missin' ya like a limb when you're standin' two feet away, I'm tired of always wishin' ya were closer, I'm tired of not tellin' ya 'at I think you are everythin' to me, I'm... I'm tired of it."

"Rick," your eyes were getting foggy.

"Darlin', I-" he let out a long breath, "-I can't do it anymore. I feel like I can't breathe without ya near me-"

"Rick."

"-Ya gotta understand 'at I-" he looked down (a little like the words were stuck in his throat), "-I... I can't function without ya. 'S like you're a piece of me 'at's just constantly missin' and it don't 'ave to be."

"Rick," you tried again.

"Y/N, I've-" he stuttered a second just looking at you, "-I've never felt 'is way 'bout anybody. An' I don't... I'm not even sure what to do 'bout it- I can't even think straight when you're gone, it... it stops everythin'-"

"Rick," you repeated, but there wasn't a lot of will behind it.

"Because 'ow am I supposed to be me without ya?"

You swallowed, heavily, eyes flickering all over him -maybe a little in reverence too. It felt like this was all a dream, and maybe this was exactly what you wanted him to say. Only one thought was rattling through your head, and you couldn't shake it, you're not sure you wanted to-

You spoke, breathless and maybe a little teary, "Rick, I love you."

Rick smiled at you so brightly that your knees felt a little weak, and your heart stuttered in your chest. God-

"You-" you laughed a little then, hands coming up to brush along his face (touching what you had longed to for so long)"-you're unbelievable. I couldn't even wrap my head around the thought that you could be into me-"

He just watched you, something shiny in his eyes (you couldn't tell if it was feelings or tears).

"-God you should've seen me. I asked like everyone in Alexandria," he laughed a little, and you gleamed, "-And... And I found out about so much that you've done for me. And you took a day off to do laundry with me-"

He laughed again, "Guess 'at made it pretty obvious, huh?"

"That, and-" you smiled at him, pushing some of his curls back out of his face, "-caring for me in the prison-"

He pursed his lips at that, maybe expecting you to never know. It didn't seem like he could stop looking at you though.

"-and you know what, not being able to focus when I'm gone on runs is pretty incriminating-"

He leveled the same look, and you could see his ears go pink. Cute.

"-or maybe," you continued, looking at him in a way that you hoped he understood (you were desperate for him to), "-when you dropped an obviously important conversation because I had a headache."

He just smiled at you, all dopey and affectionate. It made warmth bloom through your chest. Love, love, love-

"If it ain't obvious," he started, just staring, "-I love ya too. More than what I kno' what to do wit'."

You grinned at him, teasing, "Really? 'Couldn't tell."

He rolled his eyes at you, but was smiling so bright you couldn't take it seriously, "Ya gonna be like 'is now?"

"Oh, yeah," you answered, "-now I know just what you've done for me, and for how long. You're toast."

"Ya act like 'at's all I 'ave done," he countered, maybe smirking a little.

"It's not?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"No," he laughed, "-I was desperate for ya. For a long time. I did a lot to just be by your side, not countin' what I did for ya."

"Well," you smiled, moving your hands to curl into his hair, "-you'll just have to tell me sometime."

"Maybe," he hummed at the motion, and grinned at you, "-but the list is only bound to get longer. Might take forever."

"You know what, Grimes," you laughed, but you were genuinely, "-I think I can do forever."

"Me too," he grinned even brighter, eyes dashing along your face, "-as long as it's with ya."

Yeah, you thought to yourself (and maybe kissed the life out of him), I can definitely do forever.

[lixiesfreckless]

Deep | l. m.

part two: Deeper

➸ synopsis: you should not be here. not in this car, not at this hour, not again,

and especially not with him.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. a mention of another skz member)

➸ word count: 1.2k

➸ general content: ex bf!minho, reader knows what a moral compass is and doesn't use it, they're both enablers in the worst way, toxic is the understatement of the century, car sex, angst, minho is a dirty talker lmaooooo

➸ warnings: swearing, cheating, sexual content

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: I feel like I have to preface this fic by saying that cheating is never okay. in no way am I trying to glamourize it, I just like writing stories about messed up characters sometimes. that being said THIS FIC IS SO MESSED UP IDK HOW I WROTE THIS TWO YEARS AGO WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE like I fr pumped this out in a day and was like "I'm just a girl" yeah one that needs to be put into a straitjacket, tf?

♫ deep- summer walker, 너와- jaymin

The tow truck pulls out of the parking garage, trailing your lifeless hunk of metal behind it as Minho turns to you, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Thanks for…coming out to help me so late,” you mumble, hands busying themselves with your jacket sleeves as your eyes watch the concrete. He hums, not trying to draw out the already tense atmosphere. He knows better.

He knows why you’re so stiff.

You two situate yourselves into his car, and he’s asking something about how long your car will be in the shop, but you barely register it. Three days, you feel yourself say, but you don’t really know.

You don’t really care either.

“Who’s going to drive you to work until then?” He turns in his seat to face you. A small part of you wishes he hadn’t.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” You force yourself to not meet his piercing gaze, and thankfully he sighs, looking out the windshield.

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s already on my way to work, and I already know your schedule,” he states calmly, ignoring the way your eyes flicker to his lips. “It’s nothing, really.”

You know you can’t change his mind, and you also don’t want to, so you press your lips together, not-so-unintentionally wetting them as you did so.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

There’s a faint hum in the car. Minho hasn’t clicked it into gear yet. There’s a little red symbol blinking on his dashboard and you figure he’s overdue for an oil change. Someone is walking out to a dumpster a ways away from his car, and your ears barely pick up the way the lid slams when the worker carelessly lets it drop. Minho is mindlessly rubbing the leather on the steering wheel. He doesn’t normally do that.

You thought those details would be enough to distract you.

But it’s never enough.

Nothing is ever enough if it’s not Lee Minho.

He lets out a small breath of air, and you can see the frustration in his eyes as he quickly checks the surroundings. The small voice in your head screams at you, because you know you shouldn't be here like this, but he turns back to you and squanders the remaining sanity in your brain as he leans into your face.

And it’s hot and desperate and fast, the way your lips move against each other, the way your hands fist in his hair and grab at his collar, the way one too many curse words slip out of his mouth; but there’s no time to think about that, not when his hands are on you, igniting a fire that you’ve tried to put out time and time again.

And it’s dizzying, the way he tears himself away from you after a few seconds of sinful bliss, because the guilt rocks your entire body like a boat caught in a summer storm, and you’re not used to dealing with the consequences of your actions this soon.

“We can’t,” he pants, “we can’t keep doing this.”

You stare at him, shirt slightly crushed where you had gripped him from earlier and hair an absolute mess, and despite how enticing as he looks you nod, because he’s right.

You can’t.

Unfortunately you’re a pair of liars.

And it’s not even you who pulls the other back in, how ironic.

You take it upon yourself to move into a more comfortable position, one that lands on his lap, and he exercises his restraint for a few moments more before his hands land on your hips, helping you move faster over the gear shift.

Maybe you’re moving too fast but you can’t help it, his hips are positioned under yours just right and it’s not long before you’re grinding down against him. You expect him to hold you off of him and call it quits, not groan into your mouth and hold you closer like he’s doing now, and it takes every fiber in your body not to whimper back into his lips.

Your jacket disappears in the wake of his desperation, and there’s finally more skin-on-skin contact between you two. His fingertips burn with the knowledge that what’s happening is far from right, but the fire building inside you makes it feel like heaven, makes him feel like heaven, and you long for his fingertips to run under your shirt, where they definitely do not belong.

And they do.

So yours work their way to the hem of his jeans, tired of the leather that’s holding them together, and he breaks the kiss, hopefully to tell you to stop.

What he says next, unfortunately, doesn't surprise you.

“We need to stop getting ourselves into this situation.”

You look up from his belt, watching as the shame glosses over his eyes and you nod, feeling a pang of guilt rise in your stomach.

But the need between your thighs temporarily stalls the negative emotion, and before you can apologize for letting the situation escalate this far again, he’s the one undoing his belt.

At least you’re not the only one at fault here.

And the pressure between your thighs is finally satisfied as he lets you ride him, lips sucking on your neck hard enough to make you gasp but not hard enough to leave marks. For obvious reasons.

“Fuck baby,” he halts his trail of neck kisses, “if you were gonna take my cock this well you should have called me earlier.”

You wish hearing him say that didn’t make you feel so good.

He meets you halfway in slow, lazy thrusts, which makes you feel every ridge of him through the latex separating you two, and suddenly you’re crushing the fabric at his shoulders now too. 

“You like that huh?” With the way you clench around him, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation, but he edges it out of you regardless. “You like when I fuck you like that?”

“Yes-”

“Yes what?”

“Y-Yes Minho.”

“That’s my girl.”

Oh, how that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You whisper something about wanting him to go harder, faster, and he’s compliant, seemingly not in the mood to tease you. Or maybe, judging from the way he was gripping you, he was just close.

The glass is fogging up.

There is a foreseeable end in sight, and you feel relieved, after weeks of not having any sort of real release. To be fair, last time was supposed to be the last time. As well as the time before that.

And the time before that.

But you chase away the guilt creeping up again with your own fingers, rubbing away at your clit with a determination that even Minho doesn’t have chasing his own high.

He knows how badly you need it though, so he slams up into you the same way that made you finish the last time.

Suppose there’s no such thing as a good time when there’s nothing good about what you’re doing.

Which is why although you want to, you shouldn’t complain about a ringtone slicing through the humid atmosphere of the car.

Both of your hips come to a halt, and it takes a moment for your brain to recognize the ringtone to see if the call is urgent.

It is.

And the high that you were close to reaching comes plummeting to the ground as soon as you read the caller ID.

Incoming call… Jeongin <3 

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

Joel Miller x f!reader: Drunk

Summary: Your boyfriend is being a work obsessed dick so you send him out to get drunk with his brother. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, allusion to smut (i think?), soft!joel, drunk!joel, kind of asshole!joel at the beginning, Please let me know if there is anything that I've forgot to put a warning for. This has not been proof read so any mistakes are completely my fault. Enjoy and don't forget to reblog and like so that the algorithm can do its thing. Words: 1,3k

Joel Miller was an asshole to most people. To his employees, to people he saw on the street, he came across as an asshole but that was simply the charm of him. In reality, he was a polite Texan gentleman who loved his girlfriend and family but just so happened to have a resting bitch face and a natural dickish tone. 

To you, Joel Miller was a teddy bear. You made each other breakfast and coffee on a morning, got ready for the day together and once you were both home from work, you relaxed together. But ever since Joel’s construction company had taken off, relaxing evenings turned into you begging Joel to stop looking a blueprints and just pay attention to the movie for once. Instead of both of you destressing, Joel never stopped and you got more worked up trying to get him to relax. 

Eventually, you had to bring in reinforcements in the form of Tommy Miller. Tommy had planned a night out for the boys from work and Joel had been invited but had not so politely turned it down with the excuse of not wanting his boys to have to spend their night with him. Contrary to what Joel believed, many of his boys wanted him there. His quick wit and dry humour made him popular amongst his employees as well as the fact that he didn’t take anyone’s shit. If you aren’t doing your job, you faced the consequences but if you did your job well, you would roll in the rewards. 

“I’m not going.” Joel grunted as he sat back down at the kitchen table, documents piling high and his reading glasses sat beside them. 

“Joel Miller I will drag you into your brother’s truck kicking and screaming if I have to.” You threatened and Joel, like a goddamn child, fucking pouted. 

“Why? I don’t want to spend my night with them and they don’t-.” 

“You’re going. You’re going to get some alcohol into your system, socialise with somebody who isn’t me and I hope to god you come back drunk and without this new workaholic asshole that has sprouted.” You yelled and Joel fell silent, flicking through the pages of his paperwork. “And if you pick up that pen once more, I’ll fucking jam it up your asshole.” 

Joel smirked and opened his mouth to come up with some snarky reply but you were quick to cut him off. “And it will be the only form of action you get for a helluva long time.” Your harsh words seemed to put his brain back into gear and he sighed. 

“What time’s Tommy getting here?” He asked and you grinned, mood doing a complete 360. 

“He’s on his way, you look great.” You smiled brightly, brushing a few of his stray locks back into place and pecking his lips. “Enjoy.” He walked to the door, scowl on his face and Tommy couldn’t hold back his laughter as he pulled up outside his brother’s home. 

“I owe your girl $30. Get in, we’re headed straight to the bar.” Tommy cheered as Joel pulled himself into the passenger seat with a low growl, not ready for the night ahead. 

Somehow, drunk Joel was so much worse than sober Joel. Instead of making quick remarks at everything anyone said to him, he stared wistfully at his phone screen, head resting on one hand as he stared at the photo of you from a few months ago, his favourite one of you to date. “C’mon big brother, lighten up a little. She’s set some kind of reverse curfew, doesn’t want you back any earlier than 11.” Joel hummed in agreement, now scrolling through his entire camera album dedicated to you. 

Once Tommy had managed to get a few more beers in him, he offered him a game of pool and Joel seemed to brighten up a little bit, missing the days when he and Tommy would go to their local bar every night and shoot pool for hours at a time. “I’m pretty sure I beat your ass last time.” Joel teased and Tommy rolled his eyes. 

“You got years on me old man.” Tommy snarked back and Joel barked a laugh, racking up the balls while Tommy chalked up the cues. 

After a few games with varying opponents and a concoction of different drinks, Joel was ready to go home, Tommy more than happy being the designated driver. “She’ll be proud, it’s almost 12.” He chuckled and Joel shrugged, ready to go home and see his girl. 

Climbing out of the truck, he stumbled to the front door, looking for his key before almost falling through the door when it opened. “Goddamn! There’s a fuckin’ angel in my house. Tommy there’s an angel in my house!” You nodded your thanks to Tommy before he drove off and then led your man into the kitchen. “Hi baby.” He drawled and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey handsome. You have fun?” She asked and he shook his head. 

“Kicked all their asses.” He slurred, almost falling against the counter as you steadied him. 

“Oh yeah?” Joel nodded and you handed him a glass of water watching his face sour. 

“No more vodka. Have to go see my girlfriend.” You chuckled and pushed the pill into his hand and nodded. 

“Well your girlfriend said this pill is gonna make you feel better and you need to drink water before we go to bed.” Joel thought about it and you knew just what to say to convince him. 

“She even said you might get lucky tomorrow if you take the pill.” You hummed and he threw his head back, swallowing the pill and then downing the water, slamming the glass on the side for dramatic effect. “And now you need to brush your teeth because I’m not going to kiss you with the taste of whatever ‘Tommy special’ you’ve been drinking. 

“Thought you like my kisses?” He frowned, eyes wide and you smiled. 

“I do baby but I’ll probably get drunk from one kiss and we only need one drunk in this house.” You teased, taking his hand and dragging him towards the stairs, doing an awkward shuffle to drag and guide him up each step. Halfway to the bathroom Joel stopped moving and you looked at him with amusement sparkling in your eyes. “Everything ok?” 

“No.” Joel grabbed your wrist and stomped over to the bed, flopping on it and pulling you on top of him, quickly flipping your position and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you. “Missed you.” He hummed, reaching up to press a kiss to your chin, leaning up on his elbows and pressing a multitude of extremely delicate kisses across your face. “I like you.” 

You staved off a laugh and smiled. “I like you too. Can we go brush our teeth now?” He shook his head, his eyes holding some kind of childish innocence to them as he pecked each area of your face. 

“I love you.” He muttered against your nose and you giggled. 

“Joel, I can taste the vodka on your breath. Please can we go brush our teeth. We’ll come straight back to bed and we don’t have to leave until tomorrow afternoon.” You tried but he just shook his head. 

“Sorry for being an asshole. Shouldn’t be working so much.” He murmured and you smiled. 

“It’s been stressful for you but it’s ok. We’ll get through it. Thank you for apologising.” You whispered and he nodded, going back to pressing kissed along your hairline. 

“You didn’t say you love me.” He mumbled shyly and you chuckled. 

“I love you with every atom in my body, Joel Miller. I love your grumpy looking face and your scary voice and I can’t imagine my life with out you but for the love of us can we please go and brush your teeth. You smell like you brought the entire damn bar home.” 

“Fine but only because you love me.”

[slusheeduck]

Count Only The Happy Hours

PART I: [I][II][III][IV][V][VI][VII] PART 2: [I][II][III]

The road to the Stone Forest was clear enough, and for a brief burst of time, it felt as though Vivec and Sil would be able to sprint there in next to no time with the adrenaline singing in their veins. But the battle had been harder than expected, and Sil—drained from the fight in every which way—just barely caught himself from collapsing in the road. Vivec faltered, caught between continuing on and helping Sil. But, in the end, he turned back. Nerevar may have had his adoration, but he was hardly his brother.

            He doubled back to Sil’s side, helping the younger mer back up to his feet. Seht’s face was grim as he leaned heavily against Vivec, pale eyes flicking back and forth like gears as his brain whirred.

            “They might be dead,” he finally said, voice very quiet. “We need a plan if that’s the case.”

            Vivec grimaced. “If Nerevar’s dead, then the whole cause is gone,” he said, pulling Sil off the road and guiding him to sit. He scanned the road anxiously as Sil bent nearly in half, silver hair hanging over his face.

            “Not true,” he said, and the fierce optimism in his voice caught Vivec’s attention. “We’re still alive. If…if you continue to write, and if I can perfect my machines with the Dwemer…”

            Vivec gave a deep sigh, though he couldn’t stop the way his mouth turned up. “I truly am a terrible brother, if I keep being surprised by how you live up to your name, Seht.” He scanned down the road again. “Vas lor, sil shanta. We’ll be the light if we must.”

            It took a bit of time before Sil was ready to start going, and they moved much slower now. But it wasn’t long before they saw three shadowy figures up ahead in the road. They moved slowly, gaits limping and defeated. But even so, there was no mistaking the silhouettes.

            “Neht!” Vehk’s sharp eyes had picked out the Hortator first, and in the next breath, he was running to greet the three ahead.

            Up close, they seemed to be in even worse shape. Alandro, unsurprisingly, was unscathed save for a few cuts on his cheek. Nerevar leaned heavily against him, hardly able to put his left foot on the ground and one eye nearly swollen shut. Voryn’s legs seemed fine, but his fine robes were torn and dirty, his long hair tangled, and he cradled his right arm, the wrist bent unnaturally.

            “The n’wah organized an ambush,” he snarled by way of greeting, dark eyes blazing with fury. “We barely managed to get out alive.”

            Sil’s brows drew together. “And Grandmaster Elvasea?”

            “Dead. Long dead, by the time we got there,” Alandro said grimly. “Her whole entourage was probably killed the moment they entered Balmora.”

            Nerevar lifted his head; the pale blue of his open eye was nearly swallowed up by his pupil. “Ald’ruhn…they must be planning a concurrent attack…”

            “They did,” Vivec said. “We just barely managed to drive their forces out.”

            “And the Grandmaster?”

            “Safe. She was…incredible. Rallied the people to fight, built up their morale after the attack—I don’t know how many more we would have lost if she hadn’t been there.”

            “She’s overseeing the survivors,” Sil added. “We don’t anticipate there’s any more.”

            “Even so, let’s not dally on the road,” Alandro said, voice clipped as his star-bright eyes glanced around them. “Vehk, are you uninjured? Take Neht’s other arm. We can move quicker if we both help him.”

            Vivec wasted no time, pulling Nerevar’s arm over his shoulders. “How badly injured is he?”

            “Got a mace to his knee. Likely concussed, too, so make sure he doesn’t nod off.” Alandro rolled his eyes as he started moving. “Never learned how to step back—though they were brutal regardless. Even the Devil of Dagoth back there got hit pretty hard.”

            Vivec swallowed as they walked. “They must truly see us as a threat now. The Nords seem to have taken a page from Boethiah’s book with this.”

            “Suppose some of them must have brains, after all.” Alandro glanced back behind them. Sil hovered beside Voryn, still radiating fury as he limped along. “Don’t suppose you could heal up Voryn’s arm, Seht?”

            Sil shook his head. “My reserves were depleted in the fight. It’ll take at least a day to get my magicka where it would need to be, since I’m not a skilled healer.”

            “I can still cast just fine,” Voryn spat at Alandro. He huffed. “Dres is going to be in shambles. We can’t count on them to aid us now. The cowards are probably already drawing up an alliance with the Nords.”

            “They can’t do that!” Vivec protested.

            “They certainly can. And if Dres goes, Hlaalu will follow the gold like they always do.” Voryn spat on the ground, still incensed. “We’ve lost because of them.”

            “We haven’t,” Nerevar slurred out, head lolling against Vivec’s. “Azura…Azura is still on our side.”

            “Azura has done fu—”

            “Voryn, that’s enough,” Alandro snapped. He stared over his shoulder at Voryn, who looked as though he might argue. But finally, he huffed out a breath and looked away. Alandro kept his eyes on him for a moment longer, then sighed. “First things first. We get back to Ald’ruhn and regroup. Then we can decide how fucked we all are. All right?”

            There was no reply, but Alandro seemed to take that as an affirmative as he fixed his star-bright eyes straight ahead. His type of practicality was rarely worth writing about, if Vivec was being honest, but he had to admit, it was a great boon in times of upheaval like this.

            Nerevar’s head lolled forward as they walked, and Vehk was quick to jostle him. “Ah, ah. No time to rest yet, Neht. There’s still very, very much that we must do.”

            Nerevar rolled his head to look at him, open eye starry and half-vacant. “Vehk,” he slurred out with a dazed sort of fondness. “Do you know of the Tsaesci?”

            Vivec glanced up at Alandro. The Ashlander nodded. Keep him talking, was the silent encouragement.

            “I’ve heard their stories,” he replied lightly. “I know that they believe all waters lead to the gates of life and death, and that some say they’re serpents given the form of men.”

            “I met one,” Nerevar said, head lolling forward. Vivec coaxed it back up. “I met one. Before I came to Vvardenfell, in my travels. He showed me how to wield a sword like they did—no armor, you know. No shields. Just their blades for defense and offense.” Neht laughed, a half-delirious thing. “Said he could see my fate in my eyes, and that I’d travel to the edge of the world. I…” His eye slipped closed.

            “There must be more than that,” Vivec goaded as Alandro snapped his free hand’s fingers. “That’s a poor fate-telling, if he left it there.”

            Nerevar blinked a few times, rousing himself. He looked to Vivec, though it was clear he wasn’t quite seeing him. His gaze was faraway, though whether he was looking back to the meeting with the Tsaesci or all the way into Moonshadow was anyone’s guess.

            “I must be careful,” he said, voice soft and distant. “Because the edge of the world is made with swords.”

            Vivec smiled at that. “Of course it is,” he said. “They are the bottom row of the world’s teeth.”

            “Ald’ruhn up ahead,” Alandro said. “Vehk, you’re the quickest. Run up and send word for healers.”

            Vivec nodded, starting to pull up Nerevar’s arm. But suddenly, the Hortator’s grip tightened, and he kept him in place as he stared at the younger mer. His gaze was still elsewhere, but somehow it pierced right into Vivec’s eyes.

            “You believe we’ll succeed,” he said, voice serious and quiet. “You know what we’re doing is right, Vehk. If you don’t, we can’t go on.”

            Vivec met Nerevar’s gaze. Carefully, he reached up to loosen his grip, though he kept his hand tight around Neht’s.

            “We are the true heirs of Veloth,” he said softly, though with no small amount of feeling. “Resdayn’s freedom is our destiny, and we will find a way through.”

            Nerevar seemed placated by that, and he let his arm slip from Vivec’s shoulders. Vehk released his hand, then turned to run for help.

~

            There had been no further attacks, and under Grandmaster Almalexia’s instruction, the survivors were at work recouping after the ambush. They’d lost fewer than anticipated, though many were injured. The city wasn’t in shambles, but it was far from the haven it had been just a few hours before.

            Vivec had indeed gotten to her first, letting her know what had happened, and healers were sent to the inner council room to tend to the Hortator and Voryn. Alandro had needed no healing, and Seht very little—Hlareni, hearing they were back, had been quick to offer her own healing to him. They spoke in whispers in a corner of the room as she worked, two fair heads ducked together.

            As for Almalexia, she paced the room like a caged Durzog. “They cannot be allowed to do this without retaliation,” she spat out, bristled in indignation. If she had a sword in hand, there was no doubt she’d be slicing the air in fury. “Attacks like this must be repaid in kind. We shall find the nearest Nord encampment and…”

            “As satisfying as that would be,” Alandro interjected, “we can’t.”

            “I actually agree with the Grandmaster,” Voryn—arm healed and wrapped tightly in a sling—said, getting to his feet. “Are we to be sent scampering off after this insult?”

            Alandro rubbed his forehead. “You House mer will be the death of me,” he muttered, then huffed.

            “But it makes sense,” Almalexia shot back, golden eyes blazing. “They weren’t expecting us to best them here, even if you three had to retreat. Their morale will be low, this is the perfect time to strike.”

            “If we catch them off-guard, we may even have another Hofstaag,” Voryn added.

            “We are crippled,” Alandro snapped, hands slamming onto the table. “Minimal losses are still more losses than we were anticipating. And if you two bloodthirsty s’wits could see through your need for vengeance for five godsdamned seconds and think rationally for once…”

            “And if you could stop taking the coward’s way out—”

            “Call me a coward again, Dagoth, I dare you.”

            “By Azura, they’re loud,” Nerevar mumbled. “Vehk, tell me there’s no weapons out.”

            “Not yet.”

            “Then we’ll let them get it out of their system.”

            Vivec had set himself beside Nerevar as the healers worked on him, poised and ready to jump up if any aid was needed. But by all accounts, he seemed to be healing well—though he’d need some time to recuperate, and that was time they likely didn’t have. Now, though, the threat was passed, and they could gather themselves to think.

            Nerevar gave a long sigh as the healer respectfully bowed her head to the Hortator, declaring him well enough for now. He looked over to Alandro, Almalexia, and Voryn, still fighting, then to Seht and Hlareni, who seemed to have stopped their whispering to watch. Finally, he turned his gaze back to Vivec.

            “I was foolish,” he said, head falling back with a sigh. “We were so focused on not offending Almalexia that we didn’t consider reinforcements.”

            Vivec’s mouth twitched. “You’re much more important than you were, muthsera,” he said, coaxing a soft laugh from Neht. “You still think yourself a merchant caravaner, but you’re more than that now.”

            “So what am I, then?”

            “You’re the Hortator. A beacon for the masses, a new Veloth for the new children of Resdayn.” Vivec smiled. “I said that the Nords see us as a threat, now.”

            “I did hear that, in my daze.”

            “That’s because they now see you as we always saw you. And the Chimer love you as we love you.”

            Nerevar’s eyes shut, and he let out a long sigh. “Mm. Still, some days I feel out of my depth with this. There’s still a part of me that’s just Nerevar Mora, stepping off the boat in Seyda Neen to a motherland he’d never seen before.” He opened his eyes, looking to Vivec. “I know you write about how I’m…destined for this. But anyone could do what I do, you know. You could have been the Hortator, if you’d tried, with your clever words.”

            “But I didn’t,” Vehk said, voice soft. “Neither did Voryn, nor Alandro, nor anyone else. You did. And because of that, you must be the one to guide us through.” He glanced up as another slam came from Alandro’s hands hitting the table. “And, I think, the one to break up what’s about to be a deadlier fight than we just had.”

            Nerevar nodded. He gave Vivec a smile, patting his arm, then carefully heaved himself up to his feet. The movement finally made the three bickering mer quiet, and all eyes turned to the Hortator as he limped his way over to drop into one of the seats around the table. Vivec went to his own. A moment later, Seht came to sit beside him. Alandro, Voryn, and Almalexia glanced at each other, then each found a seat as well. The room went quiet, waiting for Nerevar to speak.

            Neht leaned forward, looking at the others around the table. “Grandmaster Almalexia?”

            “Yes, sera?”

            “Vehk said you took charge during the attack.”

            Almalexia dipped her head. A few coppery curls had escaped her braid, pooling on the table as she did so. “Yes. I’ve been trained in battle and strategy since I was young, and both Indoril forces and your own are well-trained.”

            “You have our gratitude,” Nerevar said, very seriously. “And because of that, I’d like to formally offer you a seat on our council.”

            “Nerevar, you’re concussed,” Voryn hissed.

            “I’m not; I have a clean bill of health now,” Nerevar said with a thin smile, then he looked back to Almalexia. “We need someone who can take command like you did. As I’m sure you know, we were nearly overpowered in our own ambush, and I don’t like the thought of freedom for Resdayn dying with me. In the event that I, or Alandro, or Voryn, or any of us end up in a battle we can’t win, we need someone else who can take up our cause. You, Almalexia, have proven that you are more than capable of leading in our absence.” Nerevar smiled at Almalexia, who stared back at him. “If you’re amiable, of course.”

            “I…yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I…I accept, most humbly, Hortator.” She bowed her head. “House Indoril will fight to our very last breath to ensure the Nords are driven out.”

            “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Nerevar gave a long sigh, fingers interlocking together as he looked down. “We need to plan our next move, and we need to do it now.”

            Voryn settled back in his seat. “I still think we should do what our newest councilmember suggests: strike back.”

            “And I think that’s a good way to have the Chimer end up extinct,” Alandro shot back at him. Nerevar held up his hands, and both mer quieted.

            “Vehk brought up a good point when we were chatting earlier,” Nerevar said, clasping his hands again and resting his chin against them. “We’re known now. We are the face of this revolution, and the Nords know that. I imagine that’s why they sent the fake invitation from Grandmaster Elvasea—they wanted to get all of us in one shot and kill the uprising.”

            “Well, we know their game now,” Voryn said. “So they can’t do something like that again.”

            “Perhaps not, but…even so. We’re too obvious.”

            “Are you saying we should split up?” Alandro asked. “I don’t think that’s wise, either.”

            “Neither do I,” Vivec said. “We must be seen as a united front. If we scatter, that shows that we’re frightened.”

            “And communication will be a nightmare,” Voryn added.

            “Perhaps we could disguise the council,” Almalexia said, a touch breathless in her eagerness to contribute. “I recall at the start, you all pretended to be a merchant caravan.”

            “Yes, but they know that trick,” Alandro said.

            “Not to mention that a whole pack of Indoril soldiers following us might be suspicious,” Voryn added dryly.

            “Obviously I would direct them elsewhere,” Almalexia scoffed. “They can take orders from me remotely, or Hlareni could stand in for me—she’s done so before.”

            “You’re still a Grandmaster, though,” Sil pointed out quietly. “They might not recognize you on the battlefield, but they’ll still know who you are.”

            Voryn nodded. “I imagine they know all the Grandmasters of the Great Houses. That’s why they could target Elvasea.”

            “Doesn’t that put you in danger, Voryn?” Vivec asked.

            “I’m not the Grandmaster of House Dagoth. My mother is still firmly holding on to that title.”

            “Knowing her, she might keep it even when she makes it to Oblivion,” Nerevar said, sending Voryn a smile. He sobered after a moment. “But no, disguises won’t help us at this point in the game.” He bit his lip, staring hard at the center of the table. He stayed silent for a very long time, but no one interrupted; Nerevar’s silence rarely ended in disappointment, after all. “We need to go into hiding.”

            “What?” The entire council spoke in unison, all gaping at Nerevar. He didn’t look up.

            “We must work together and we must be unified in the eyes of Resdayn,” he said. “But we cannot put targets on ourselves. The best thing we can do is to hide in the shadows until the Nords let their guard down.” He looked around the table. “Once they think we’re all talk, that we’ve been defeated, that is when we strike. And we will end this, with our allies at our side.”

            There was a moment of quiet puzzlement, but Alandro figured it out first. “You want us to hide with the Dwemer.”

            “Yes, exactly. The Nords will never think to look below ground, and Dumac will be glad to hide us as needed. They want the same thing we do.” Nerevar sat up. “And we can use the time to strengthen our bond with them, to show them that we’re indispensable allies and that they should—no, they must join with us to drive the Nords out of Resdayn.”

            There was a murmur of agreement, but Voryn sat back in his seat, frowning. “But we can’t all hide. We have our allies and our agents, but we’ll lose the trust of the Chimer if no one is above ground. Vivec can spin all the honeyed words he wants, but they’ll ring empty if there’s no one they can trust.”

            “Well, it can’t be Nerevar,” Sil said bluntly. “They’ll kill him.”

            “Voryn, too,” Vivec added. “You’ve attracted no small amount of notoriety as the Devil of Dagoth.”

            “I can stay,” Almalexia offered. “I’ve proven that I can lead, and I have the trust of Ald’ruhn and the Grandmasters.”

            “That’s why you can’t stay,” Nerevar said. “As Grandmaster, you have a target on your back as well, Almalexia.”

            “Don’t tell me we’re bringing all the Grandmasters down with us?” she asked.

            “No, but you’re a member of the council now. We can’t lose you when we’ve just gained you.”

            “I’ll stay,” Alandro said. “Nords can’t wrap their minds around Ashlanders; I imagine that’s why I didn’t get hit as much as you two did. They probably think I’m nothing but a merc.” He crossed his arms. “But the House mer up here know me well enough—maybe they don’t trust me like Voryn or Ayem here, but I can get by. And, of course, I can hide out among the clans.”

            Nerevar looked to Voryn, who nodded. He looked back to Alandro.

            “That’s wise, I think,” he said, then gingerly pushed himself up to his feet. “It’s settled, then. Voryn, Sil, Vehk, and the Grandmaster will come with me down to Dumac’s city. Alandro will stay here and manage things above ground.” Nerevar gave a long sigh. “We’ll come up with a full plan tomorrow, and I’ll send word to Dumac in the morning. For now, I think we ought to rest.” He started to walk out, then paused. “Almalexia?”

            “Yes, Hortator?”

            “I’d like to hear a more thorough account of what happened here, if you have the time.” He chuckled. “Though you will have to forgive me if I fall asleep during it.”

            Almalexia was on her feet in a moment. “Of course, muthsera. It’s just as well, Hlareni should be compiling the account of the battle. Come join us.”

            “Oh! I…well, I…” Hlareni looked to Sil as he got up, deliberating, then sighed. “Yes, of course.” She looked to Seht once more, then followed the two out.

            Voryn’s dark eyes followed Nerevar as he left the room, then he stood up as well. “Well, if we’re not sorting anything else out, I’m going to rest. Sil, you ought to as well with your magicka reserves so low.”

            “I was planning to,” Sil said quietly, then looked to Vivec. “Are you coming, Vehk?”

            Vivec’s eyes were on Alandro, a question brewing in his head. It took Seht repeating his name to get his attention. “Hm? Oh, not quite yet.” He looked up at him; for all of his talking with Hlareni, it seemed as though he hadn’t quite recovered from the shock of the day. Vehk smiled—the boy was, of course, far too grown up and mature to ask for him to stay the night, but he could gather the request well enough by the way Sil rubbed his arm. “But I’ll be by your room shortly, hla’daesohn. I just want to speak to Alandro for a moment.”

            Seht nodded, then made his way out. Vivec watched him go, then took a breath and strode over to Alandro. The ashlander’s gaze was far away, no doubt already trying to strategize their next move. He looked up curiously as Vivec approached.

            “Yes, Vehk?”

            “Let me stay with you,” Vivec said.

To his surprise, Alandro’s head tilted back, and he laughed. “Oh, absolutely not.”

A familiar burn crept up to Vivec’s face. It’d been a while since he’d been chided by Alandro, but that didn’t make him feel any less like a scolded child. “I’m an Ashlander, same as you. You know full well I’m a netchiman’s son.”

            “And you have a tongue that could rival Mephala’s daughters.”

            “I sang for an ashkhan, once.”

            “And you would do it again, then be gutted when you spoke a little too sweetly afterward.” Alandro shook his head. “I don’t know how young you were when you left your clan, but young enough to not know just how distrustful we can be. You, Vivec, reek of deceit.”

            Blood rushed to Vivec’s ears as his heart pounded. But as he opened his mouth to argue, Alandro held up his hand.

            “You have a gift, Vehk,” he said, voice soft and honest. “Your words are the reason we’re in this position, and that’s a good thing for our cause.” He rested his hands on the other mer’s shoulders, meeting his gaze with star-bright eyes. “I know you’re from the Ashlands, and you understand our home like the Ashlanders do. But you speak, you think like a House mer. You manage to exist between the two, and we need that. And if you stay with me, if the Nords find out who you are, they’ll put an arrow in your throat to shut you up.” He sighed, then gave a wry smile. “Do you remember a few years ago, when I told you to focus less on your wild accounts?”

            “Very well. You called it nonsense.”

            “And it was then. But it isn’t now.” Alandro’s hand moved to grip Vivec’s jaw, keeping his their eyes locked and deadly serious as he did. “I don’t pay lip service to you. Never have, never will. And believe me, I know how easily wounded your pride can be. So when I say this, know that I mean it wholeheartedly, as an equal and not a scolding babysitter: we need your words. Especially when Nerevar can’t be seen; you’ll be able to keep him visible even as you hide.” His eyebrows rose. “Am I clear?”

            Vivec swallowed. “Yes. Very clear.”

            Alandro smiled, and he gave Vivec’s shoulders a hard clap as he stood up straight. “Good lad.” He chuckled as he started to head to the door. “Besides, someone will need to step in for Seht when he tells old Kagrenac he’s doing things wrong. Sleep well—you’ll need it.”

            Vivec agreed vaguely, mind still reeling. Alandro was always upfront, but so rarely with anything but a critique or correction. Even if it was just to keep Vivec out of his hair…no. No, it wasn’t. Nerevar and Voryn would lie, but Alandro never would, especially not to spare feelings. He meant what he’d said.

            We need your words.

            His quills needed sharpening before they left.

~

            The next day, Nerevar’s request went to Dumac. The day after, they had their answer. And within the week, their plan was finalized: Nerevar, Voryn, Vivec, Sil, and Almalexia—along with a small entourage that included Hlareni—would make their way to one of the nearby Dwemer lifts, where they would be greeted and escorted to Dumac’s underground palace. The journey was a short one, but still required any identifying armor and insignias to be hidden away.

Both Voryn and Almalexia seemed less than pleased to don common merchant clothes, their own finery hidden away in the wagon. Sil and Nerevar, on the other hand, looked more than comfortable in their plain clothes. Vivec found the dichotomy both expected and hilarious.

Alandro had agreed to ride with them to the lift, clad in his own traditionally obscuring Ashlander clothes. He and Nerevar spoke in quiet voices as they led their caravan, no doubt arranging their next move. Hlareni had fallen in step with Sil, who tried to split his attention between her and Voryn, who in turn was speaking rather intently about the young mer’s coming of age—which, he warned, would likely happen when they were underground, and while that made things difficult if he wanted to join House Dagoth, he would be able to make a case for him when they came back out.

Vivec, meanwhile, found his way toward the back of the caravan, where Almalexia—tattoos covered and hair bound back—was keeping watch.

“Are you familiar with the Dwemer, Grandmaster?” he asked. Her steely concentration broke, and she gave him a smile as she turned to look at him.

            “I am not, but you are. As I recall, you were…raised in one of their machines because they were kind to you?”

            “Ah, that was the last draft of my birth. As of yet, I haven’t quite rectified how the Dwemer dealt with my egg.” He shrugged. “But, after my hatching, I admit I am not as familiar with them as Nerevar is. Sil’s been down a few times, but his talk of metal beasties and automatonic guardians always leaves my head spinning.”

            “I do believe that’s the first bit of truth you’ve said to me, sera,” Almalexia said, shaking her head.

            “Ah, no, no ‘sera’, no ‘serjo’, no ‘councilor’ or ‘master’. We’re both council-members now, and that makes us great friends by default.” He gave her a wide smile. “Just Vivec. Or Vehk, if you prefer, provided I can call you Ayem in return.”

            Almalexia’s brows drew together, clearly mulling over the familiarity. “I…yes. Yes, I’d like that, Cou—” She caught herself with a smile, golden eyes bright as she met Vivec’s gaze. “Vehk.”

            He nodded, very pleased to hear his name on her lips, and clasped his hands behind his back as he kept his eyes on her. Her own attention drifted, watching for threats, but her gaze kept coming back to him. Finally, she gave a huff that wasn’t nearly as irritated as she meant for it to be.

            “Is something the matter?”

            “No, quite the opposite.” He shrugged. “We’re going to be spending quite a lot of time down in the dark. So it’s of the utmost importance that I memorize just how very, very beautiful the sun is when it gets caught in your hair.”

            A flush crept to Ayem’s golden cheeks, but she put on a haughty expression. “Is this how you speak to all your friends, Vivec?”

            “No. They wouldn’t appreciate it the way you do.”

            “You don’t know that I appreciate it,” she said, trying to sound stern. “I find it overly forward, actually.”

            “Ha! Now who’s telling lies? If you believe that, then it shouldn’t be hard to believe I was taught by Fa-Nuit-Hen.”

            “In your egg.”

            “Yes, in my egg.”

            Almalexia shook her head, but a smile had already escaped. “You are a flatterer and a liar, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a mer with your boldness in either.” She looked over him for a moment. “My father would have had your tongue cut out.”

            “But you are not your father, Ayem.”

            “No.” Her mouth turned up in a smile. “No, because I’m far too curious. I can’t wait to hear the next ridiculous lie that comes from your lips.”

            “I’ll do you one better. I’ll give you a truth,” he said.

            “Oh? And what is that?” Ayem’s head tilted, clearly waiting for something ridiculous as she smiled at him. His eyes traveled over her face.

            “I meant what I said when we sparred,” he said, voice soft and far too earnest to be mere flattery. “I think you match the stars in their beauty.”

            Almalexia blinked, and she quickly looked away. But there wasn’t a bit of anger in her body; she may think him bold, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like what he said. But he left it there—any more, and he would need to start editing.

            It was just as well, because they’d reached the lift. A couple Dwemer already waited at the lever, waving at them. Nerevar took a moment to pull Alandro to him in a tight embrace, giving him a few whispered instructions or, perhaps, a few words of farewell, just in case. Then, he went to the lift. Voryn followed, giving Alandro a few parting words of his own along with a clasp of his hand. Hlareni and Almalexia both gave quiet nods and thanks. Seht was close enough that Vivec caught his farewell; Alandro reached up to ruffle the boy’s hair in the way he hated.

            “Try not to say ‘I told you so’ too much when you run circles round those architects, all right, jul? I expect you to come out on your own metal kagouti when this is over.” He pulled a small package from his bag, pressing it into Seht’s hand. “And here. Just in case I don’t see you for your birthday; it’s a big one, after all.”

            Sil looked down at it. His ever-stoic face shifted slightly, and he swallowed. “Thank you, Alandro.”

            Alandro squinted, a smile hiding beneath his mask, then ushered Sil toward the others. His star-bright eyes landed on Vivec. Like just a few days before, he set his hands on the other mer’s thin shoulders.

            “I still mean what I said,” he said quietly. “Right now, our best weapon is going to be your pen. Send as much writing as you can, and I’ll get them around.” He squinted in another hidden smile. “Make them all love Neht as much as I know you do.” Vivec nodded, serious and silent, and Alandro chuckled. “No witty quip? It is Vehk going down with them, right?” He looked over Vivec’s face for a moment. “Well. Since I’m less confident than Nerevar that I’ll get out of this alive, I may as well be honest.” He squeezed Vivec’s shoulders. “You’ve come a long way from the daggerlad that tagged along with us. I’m glad to have been fighting for Resdayn with you, and I hope we meet again to continue that fight.”

            Vivec swallowed. “I hope so, too,” he said, voice wavering more than he’d like. “Three protect you, Sul.”

            Alandro gave Vivec’s shoulders one last pat, then stepped back. It took a moment, but Vivec pulled his gaze away from the Ashlander to go join the others. Alandro gave a wave to the group, and the Dwemer accompanying them pulled their levers.            

And with that, the council—minus one—delved down into the dark.

[baeshijima]

so... i finished the 2.7 quest...

hahaha....

spoilers utc

also this is. a long post. an incredibly long one. haha.

overall ? i loved this quest. might be one of my favourites simply because of the emotions that can be felt when playing this and honestly? this is one of the reasons why i love this game so much. the writing and story are just so heartfelt and really strike a chord

i was genuinely having a meltdown over so many parts bc man... my emotions got played with so bad... when i get u hsr devs.... hsr devs when i get u.....

more of my thoughts will be expanded in the segments but sunday and robin and tingyun/fugue .... hugging them giving them lots of kisses and head pats and warmth bc they need it and so do i ;w;

okay anyway so first part is gonna be abt sundays story of the quest bc ourgh... what if it killed me.... and this will be going in order of events minus tingyun/fugues storyline (to the best of my ability at least) bc she has her own segment after sunday !!

anywho to start off :

one) he looks stunning here with even half his face not shown, and two) wDYM BY WEARY PASSERBY??? STOP TORMENTINGT HIM LET HIM BE HAPPY ANS FREE ANBFDK

OHHH MY LORD.... him using the telepathy.... ohhhh.... AND HE LOOKED GOOD DOING IT !!

INSANITY

wonweek: renowned workaholic, mr workday. he works for me. you don't know him?

MR WORKDAY WORKING FOR WONWEEK HELLO

sobbing at this interaction tho bc

😭😭😭 and the way sunday just moves on afterwards LIKE ???

the imagery...

sunday: sometime before i turned six. like most boys would, i tried to fly with my ear feathers, only to fall into a pit. i almost broke my halo.

HELLO THIS WAS SO???? A BOYFAILURE (REAL) 😭

imagine baby sunday trying to fly with his ear feathers ;w;;

but omg... hello the brainwashing into making others mistake his appearance isnt actually him.... honestly tho knowing that its welt he probably will know/realise its sunday

I KNEW IT OUR WELT WOULDNT BE SO EASILY FOOLED !!! but also face card... both of them.....

welt: ...i left my home in a hurry, too... i know how it feels.

throwing up...

ALSO THAT SCENE WITH ALL THE TINGYUNS AND WELT SAYING THE AE WERE TASKED WITH SENDING ONE PASSENGER BACK HOME OHH IM GOING TO BE SICK.... not her multiplying into multiple tingyuns due to sneezing non-stop all bc a pepeshi roped her, us, and march into a try nto to laugh challenge through eating a sweet 😭

wonweek: pleased to meet you, fair lady. and you, of course... you're the heavyweight who pummeled this control freak?

wonweek... pls... im gonna throw up at this joke abt the express ramming into boss sunday.... and his nickname for sunday being sunny...

crying. BUT ALSO SUNDAY CALLING TINGYUN "my lady" LIKE HELLOOOOOO ROYALTY AU IN MY BRAIN GOING HARD RN AND TURNING GEARS OOHHHH the duke sunday series... gonna be well fed with this content oml

FUCK OFF

welt: how did you know she would be here? sunday: i didn't. i had a hunch and decided to try my luck. it seems i can be lucky sometimes. welt: it's not like you to leave things to luck. sunday: i'm trying to change, too. welt: you don't need to be a bystander in this scenario. go on ahead. sunday: you're not worried i'll take the opportunity to escape? welt: i believe you're the kind of person that has the ability and desire to use everything to your advantage... but that "everything" does not include miss robin. sunday: ...thank you.

FUCK YOU

welt: you... don't intend to reveal your true identity to her? sunday: both parties don't have to be aware that this is a farewell. // ...i shouldn't put her at risk for my selfishness.

FUCK THIS

FUCK IT ALL OH MY GOD

his soft expression knowing that this is him taking the first step and saying goodbye... and robin not knowing its him... but she probably does know this random ass dreamweaver is her beloved older brother bc halovian telepathy, sibling connection, and also the fact that the writers dont want anyone to be happy bc clearly having her actually know it was him but sunday not knowing that robin knows is the best fucking idea ever hahahaha

robin: you're very philosophical, miss wonweek. you remind me of someone i know.

SHE FUCKING KNBOWS OJH MYG ODJA

robin.... her saying all the things she couldnt say before to sunday but can say now bc he thinks she doesnt know its him and wont necessarily run away from it unless he wants to make her suspicious abt his identity (that she already saw through) and hopes that at least these words can get through to him purely bc of the fact this is possibly the only time she can speak her true thoughts ;w;;;

AND HER EXPRESSION HERE WHEN SHE SAID THIS LINE???? AND ONLY THE LOWER HALF OF SUNDAYS FACE BEING SHOWN ??????

the eyes are the window to the soul.... haha.... ha..... a..............

im literally ugly sobbing rn. like. i was already crying when she recognised it was him this whole dialogue segment is making me unable to eat my pasta im crying that much im going to throw up and pass out oh my fucking god

sunday: the second jigsaw piece. is this a pair of wings, or a decoration made of feathers? robin: maybe it's somewhere in between the two. it's a pair of broken wings. sunday: ...we should keep looking. robin: it's okay. let's use this one.

what iof i have an aneurysm

ALSO FUCK THIS GAME WITH THE CHARMONY DOVE PUZZLE PIECE AND THEN PLAYING THE INSTRUMENTAL OF IF I CAN STOP ONE HEART FROM BREAKING AS SOON AS WE COMPLETE THE PUZZLE LIKE THIS ISNT EVEN PASTA IM EATING ANYMORE ITS MY SALTY TEARS WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GAME DOING

sunday: soon, i shall travel to those unfamiliar stars, none of which i recognise. but as long as you continue to gaze upon them from here— then those unfamiliar stars will one day become the place of our reunion.

actually about to throw up my pasta like... WDYM HE JUST LEFT HER WHILE SHE WAS DISTRACTED BY LETTING THE CHARMONY DOVE GO FREE AND THEN HER SAD EXPRESSION WHEN SHE REALISED HE LEFT AND THEN SAID ALL THIS OH MY FUCJLSDFHASF

and then just.

this entire scene with welt ... sobbing he is so so father... went from enemies to "ur my son now." AND SHARING HIS NAMES MEANING AND EXPERIENCES TOO HELLO???? also wonweek....

FACE CARD SO LETHAL I CRODE

but him severing his halo from him after the ordeal... to prevent the family from tracking him down and to feel pain to stay awake and to enter the dreamscape as an ordinary person.... hello hi i am going to perish yet again what.

welt: is that how mr wonweek came into this world? wonweek: hmph, no, you wouldn't believe the real story even if he told you. sunday: he was born from an accident, one you're actually quite familiar with... it was that try-not-to-laugh challenge. quite embarrassing, to be honest. i was roaming around as an ordinary person when i unfortunately fell into that pepeshi's trap. the prank that fragmented miss tingyun also divided my fragile self into two.

hello this was a ride and a half bc ur telling me wonweek is a FRAGMENT/THE OTHER HALF of sunday????? AND ALL BC OF THAT PRANK HELLO THATS SO 😭 hes just a boy... he has his silly moments.......

but also welt saying "regardless of the outcome, you will have a witness. i will be waiting for you in the audience." to sunday before he has the final confrontation and farewell with wonweek means a lot to him knowing there is someone waiting for him, esp after his inner doubts and that passing comment where he admits he thinks it could be he who perishes as opposed to wonweek, despite knowing the conclusion being he comes out on top.

AND WONWEEKS SHOCKED FACE OHFSDJK

but honestly the entirety of sundays speech to wonweek in this scene was so....

admitting that the loss of control after leaving penacony made him scared along with his fear of the unknown, and wonweek retaliating by saying no one can control anything, and then sunday admitting to wonweek how his presence made him realise not all surprises are bad and that hes grateful he can say "i truly dislike you" to him in person because despite all the qualities wonweek possesses that sunday envies (having the ability to joke around, freely express his thoughts, openly share his dislike for a person or his fondness for them; such as expressing his love for all of /her/ (robins) songs), he doesnt wish to become like wonweek for his dislike of frivolous people.

even despite not having the qualities he wishes to have, sunday refuses to stray from his principles and make a change in his own way.

ourgh... my heart.... i love him so much im crying just typing this out.

wonweek: this isn't like you at all. did you lose your mind after being run over by the express, or were you possessed by that ipc gambler?

WONWEEK UR SO 😭😭 ANOTHER RAMMED BY EXPRESS JOKE I CANT

sunday: whether it's us merging or one of us disappearing, i'll leave the tuning to fate, and see if i can embrace all that i detest. only then will i truly be able to walk among the living in their world.

he says. as he stares at the portrait of of his former self.

LIKE

LOOK AT IT

even faceless he is so handsome....... but all the hands...

wonweek: but what if you can't do it? sunday: well, that's out of my hands. it will just prove that i'm still the same person... the person who always disappoints his sister...

ourgh... yamero... yamero kudesai..... U WERE NEVER A DISAPPOINTMENT TO ROBIN SHE JUST WISHED U WOULD LET HER INTO UR WORLD A BIT MORE AND CONFIDE IN HER AND LET HER SHARE UR BURDENS AND NOT SHOULDER EVERYTHING URSELF AND RUN URSELF INTO RUIN ON UR OWN WHEN SHE IS THERE AND CARES AND IS WILLING TO CARRY THAT BURDEN FOR U IF THAT IS WHAT IT TAKES AND IUSDIOGHSD

i hate them. i really do.

wonweek: i don't have much to say. but as it's time to part ways, here's one last piece of advice. when telling jokes, be sincere. don't sweat the details, and above all, don't explain them every time. ah, nevermind. maybe it's better for you not to joke at all. sunday: no objections from me.

and here i thought wonweek was gonna give some soulcrushing words only for it to be abt sundays dry humour. or lack thereof.

wonweek: this is so annoying. how did i become so dull? // ... // well, despite everything, try not to be too hard on yourself. there will always be people who are sad. sunday: mm.

nvm a tear leaked out at this.

THAT CUTSCENE OH MY DAYS HELLO ??? and this composition... it goes so hard.... like what..... also the fact robin is the first one to lead in my party haha :D

sobbing

wonweeks smile after reaching out to sudnay one last time before disappearing... and then sunday saying "on this eigth day, i grant myself departure" WITH HIS HALO COMING BACK LIKE WHAT THAF

welt: well, how should i address you now? mr sunday, or mr wonweek? sunday: whichever you prefer. he's probably mocking me from inside right now.

SOBBING HELLO

welt: this shared journey is my way of repaying you. after all— you are one of my trailblazing goals.

SOBBING AGAIN HELLO

sunday: while i lack the will to trailblaze, nor can i become a true nameless... i admire your convictions. perhaps, what i need, more than asceticism, is knowledge. therefore, after leaving penacony, would you consider letting me... come aboard the express and travel with you for now?

SOBBING AGAIN AGAIN HELLO IM GONNA CRY HES GONNA BE IN THE PARLOUR CAR HES GONNE BE IN ALL THE UNFORSEEABLE PATCHES HES GONNA GO TO PLANETS WITH US HES GONNA LEARN MORE ABOUT HUMANITY AND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE FREE AND HAPPY WITH US HES GONNA GROW TO BECOME A BETTER PERSON FOR HIMSELF AND BE A PERSON HIS SISTER CAN BE PROUD OF (even tho shes plenty proud of him no matter what but he is a blind man so) AND !!

THROWS UP LOOK AT HIM

sunday: i learn the most valuable lessons from my past opponents. please say whatever's on your mind.

i love you. lets get married and live happily ever after.

but oh my god i cant believe it... he is finally a part of the ae.... ohg my god im going to explode

haha... anywho now that im done crying over sunday and robin im now going to cry over fugue bc ????

order of events minus sunday storyline (again, to the best of my ability) :

OH MY GOD TINGYUN/FUGUE ....

sobs this cutscene where all the tingyuns merged together.. .

BUT ALSO WHEN WONWEEK SAID HE NEARLY DIED AND THEN PROCEEDED TO PASS OUT AFTER TRYING TO TUNE THE TINGYUN FRAGMENTS???

maybe it had smth to do with phantylias remnants?? since it was all red and stuff and shes an emanator iirc while he is a part of sunday... or maybe its bc the destruction is within her body after phantylia attacked her and the other merchants before taking her body....

this cg... and honestly this whole scene was heartbreaking bc imagine waking up and discovering ur on the cusp of life and death after getting ambushed and attacked by a lord ravager, everyone else but u died, u have a lack of mobility bc otherwise u would be in unimaginable pain from remnants of destruction stuck with u for the rest of ur life, and u have to adapt to using a new/modified appendage (her tail) like???? god...

ruan mei: with this, the debt between the traveling merchant and me is clear.

BUT HELLO LUOCHA MENTION??? does this confirm that what he was carrying in the coffin was actually tingyuns body? and he brought her to ruan mei in a chance to save her??

omg... what if i cried...

tingyun ... holds u gently...

AND SHUT UP

yukong: i've imagined this moment many times. i was worried i might embarrass myself in front of you. i even rehearsed every word beforehand. but now it seems it was unnecessary. tingyun, i'm here to take you home.

MOTHER YUKONG CAME TO PICK HER UP IM GONNA😭😭

tingyun: madam yukong, i wasn't expecting it to be you. what a wonderful surprise! yukong: i wanted to come because... after all, it's you who's coming home. tingyun: yeah, me, of all people...

so. um. this made my heart break more than it should have. tingyun implying that it shouldnt have been her... im gonna end it all... AND TO YUKONG TOO I DONT EVEN WANT TO IMAGINE HOW SHES FEELING ESP AFTER EVERYTHING THATS HAPPENED ON THE LUOFU + HER BEING THE MOST DESPERATE AND DETERMINED WHEN SEARCHING FOR TINGYUN 🫠 and then to be told by tingyun that she doesnt really want to go back to the luofu...

yukong: if you wish to go home... i'll support you, no matter what the others say. tingyun: then i'm glad. i shall save you the trouble of hearing what those people may say.

dying. dies. die. dead.

STOP IT.

ITS THE KIDDIE TINGYUN FRAGMENT OH MY FUCKHFL

tingyun: this flight was a turning point in my life. // even to this day, this thrill still courses through me. yukong: that hasn't changed? tingyun: never.

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK

dhmu... crying in the clerb.... ourgh... and when yukong told tingyun she is just an innocent survivor of war, only for tingyun to say the same for yukong..... and yukong saying she does also wish to make THEM pay but are merely pawns in the game.... head in hands why cant everyone be happy... (i giggled when tingyun said she would make THEM sneeze a few times, when talking abt her being an unplanned player in the game due to her survival kdjf)

also seeing screwllum with himeko was a jumpscare i wholeheartedly welcome HELLO HI SIR HEHEE his voice in cn... sighs.... also when himeko said "they're probably... having a lot of fun already..." like haha... if only u knew we were facing a crisis with lots of tingyuns miss himeko... AND RATIO WAS THERE TOO TALKING WITH SCRELLUM WHEN U GO TO VISIT HIMEKO WITH TINGYUN OMG HI BELOVED HEHEHHEHEHEH

AND THEN THE ENDING CUTSCENE ????? HERTA SPACE STATION ?????????? WE SEE ASTA AGAIN ???????? HERTAS DOLLS FUCKING DEAD IN HER OFFICE ?????????????????

THE MADAM HERTA ??????????? AND HER TALKING TO NOUS OH MY FUCK IM NOT READY FOR THE NEXT UPDATES WITH AMPHOREUS WHAT AN END TO THE QUEST AND WHAT AN END TO PENACONY

[slutforsfender]

𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐖: 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

𝐒𝐚𝐦

"You okay pet? You seem to have thrown yourself into work since the other night" Mam asks as I sit staring at my phone in the kitchen.

"Aye, just getting my arse in gear. Don't worry" I say, playing it off. 

"Howay lad, you are gonna have a brew with me and tell me what's going on" She orders, turning the kettle on and staring me down till I put my phone away. 

I shake my head at my mother but I follow her orders, needing to talk to someone even if it was my poor mam. 

"I saw Arabella the other night when I was out with the lads" I whisper into the silence, not quite believing it myself.

"Please don't tell me you fucked up again child" She says pointing at me as a joke, making me sigh in reply. 

"No, we sat on the beach and I calmed her down from some anxiety attack. I felt so stupid running after her but I couldn't help it. It's like a switch in my brain once I see her and I fall in love with her all over again so many years later" I lightly explain. 

"Oh my darling, some loves don't go whether we are teenagers or in our bloody nineties and clearly you love Arabella but that story is better left be. You hurt her too much, she ran away from her safety at eighteen. I'm sorry Sam, but you did good to look after her and I'm sure she appreciates it. Maybe friends are on the cards pet?" My mam says, trying her best to help as I hum in response. 

"I'm going go up to my room for a bit" I say, placing of kiss of thanks on her cheek. 

As soon as I get to my room, I lock my door and do something I hadn't done in ten maybe twelve years. I opened my wardrobe, pulling the familiar green jacket down from the back. As soon as I see the familiar stripes down the arms, the guilt washes over me. 

It all played through my mind as if it was some black and white short film. Then came the self-deprecating thoughts. The hatred for myself, the hatred for my actions, the disbelief. 

I smiled to myself as I saw a notification from her appear on my screen. I clicked on the message as soon as I could. 

Arabella: I did a stupid thing and forgot my jacket so you're gonna have to deal with cold me all day x

Sam: Do you not have another?? x

Arabella: Sadly not, no other fits over my blazer x

Sam: That sucks, don't worry I won't let you get cold x

It was now later in the day and I was now with Arabella at break with all my mates, Dean eyeing my jacket as she started to shiver. I was already two steps ahead of you Deano I thought as I turned to her. 

"Do you want my jacket?" I asked, as she did her little cold dance. 

"No it's okay. Don't worry Sam" She assured me. 

"Howay, take the jacket before you freeze to death. Come on I'll hold your bag, I'm not that cold anyway" I said, handing her my bag as I peeled off my jacket for her. 

We both smiled at the image of her in my jacket, the sleeves being long enough for her to do her hand thing without pulling it and the jacket reaching half way down her thigh. 

I replayed the image over and over in my head. Dying to go back to those days. The innocence. The love. The comfort. 

The week after we broke up, I switched to my waterproof jacket then eventually two jackets out of spite. I wanted her to be mad at me, hate me because I thought she would at least argue with me but she never did. She kept it bottled it up. 

If possible I hated myself even more now. I hated myself for the way I treated her, the way I broke up with her, for breaking up with her. I had the best thing ever and I threw it away for the stupidest reasons, not even semi decent reasons. Selfish, horrible, cruel reasons. 

I was currently in therapy and she always tried to get me to open up about Arabella but I just couldn't. I internally shiver and cringe at the thought of it all.  I placed the jacket in it's designated place and caught myself in the mirror. Similar to the way I had that night. 

I could still picture my tear stained eyes and face, the hatred for myself that never went just seemed to grow into this cloud of darkness over my head all the time. 

I stared around my bedroom, memories playing over and over of her, of us. It was like one giant whirlpool that seemed to increase in speed. Then come the racing heartbeat, rapid breathing, shaking body and anger.

I pulled at my hair, bit at my nails and lip, tugged at everything possible before completely losing it. Grabbing a nearby glass, throwing it at my wardrobe aiming for the top shelf. 

"Fuck you Sam. You cruel fucking person. Then you have the decency to fucking act like some sweetheart in public. Everyone should hate you. I hate you" I shouted at myself. 

The anger didn't seem to calm this time, it seemed to grow. Here we go, been here before. I grabbed a nearby razor, tearing it across my skin like it was paper. I watched the whiteness, the innocence become covered by the red, the evil. I made my mark of hatred once again. Yet all the tears didn't seem to soothe the anger, I accepted it. I deservered it.

Why Sam? Why did you do all this? 

[alicenaivory]

•⊱ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 •⊱ (written 2019)

[My hands overlap the steering wheel of a black Chevy that I had stolen from a victim about a week in a half ago. I drive down my road to no where, smelling the rain as it rolled down the window shield. The thunder rumbled in the sky, I feel it in my chest.

I always did like thunderstorms. The electric feeling caused by lightning. It never bothered me even as a child.

Many kids feared the thunder, yet I always took a window seat. I could still hear the voice of my father. The wind of his hand as he pointed at me and said..

“You call this bravery? This girl isn’t normal you know.”

The thought of all the vile things he would say is something I wanted to forget forever. With my vampirism I should’ve always made it a priority that no man ever talked down to me again...

And didn’t I failed immensely?

I take a glance at the rear view mirror, wishing I could avoid the failure I see myself as.

Whatever happen to my confidence? Had it all burned out?

Has it been sucked out of me and placed somewhere where I’d never find?

I stepped against the breaks, angling the wheel toward the right. The tires screech against the concrete as I stopped so abruptly. It was a little smokey as I park the black chevy on the side of the road, opening the door to exit the vehicle.

This isn’t the first time I’ve gone rogue.

I wasn’t worried about where I was headed.

It’s not always about the where or the why.

Sometimes it’s about the going and just doing.

At least that’s what it’s like for me.

I see lights flashing ahead, the engine of a car heading my way. I can smell the smoke of the engine overheating, there’s no telling how long this person has before they actually run into a little problem themselves.

If they stop for me, what game would I play?

Would I be the damsel in distress? It was cliché but it lured my victims towards me each time.

The red truck approached closer, I wave my slender fingers with black sharp nails donning on each tip. I want to make my presence known. Not that the tight red leather skirt and matching corset didn’t help.

The car stops for me to no surprise, window raising down welcoming me with a smile by a ginger male. He’s driving all alone which made him the perfect prey.

He smiled at me so effortlessly, I didn’t sense that it was forced like mine was. He had it in him to be so kind and caring towards others.

I simply wondered how humans had it in them to care so much for other people. To be so selfless even if it killed them.

I envied those traits, longing for them as they had slipped away from me and now beyond my reach.

“Your car broke down sweetheart?”]

Either that or I turned it off and waited for you to come along.

[I wanted to curse myself for being so straight forward. I was usually more patient with my dinner and that wasn’t subtle enough. The expression he gives in response showed that he fell right into it.

He switched his gear into park and got out, a white v neck clinging to his muscular frame along with blue jeans on his lower half.

“Awe, don’t be embarrassed. Some cars aren’t reliable.”]

Neither are men. [I mumbled bitterly, audible enough for only me to hear. I walked ahead of him to open the hood of my car.

I also wanted to give him more time to take in the sight of me. The way he cleared his throat lead me to think I had him in my clutches. He began to tend to the car, his features clouded of confusion when he lets it back down.

“Miss, I can’t find anything wrong with this car.”]

You can’t? Well that’s too bad.

[“It is because I thought you were having car problems.” He crossed his arms over his torso, walking closer to me again.]

Did I say that or you implied that? Maybe I’m just looking for fun.

[Even that was too straight forward. I could compel him but it was fun toying with minds that I didn’t know of yet. Brains that didn’t need frying. Moments that I didn’t have to predict.

I wanted excitement.

“I’m a specialist in that too.” A welcoming smile appears on his face. Theres something so innocent and pure about him. Something that I wanted to taint and destroy.

I come closer to invade his personal space. Swinging my hand around to lace in his red hair. He’s bold. Immediately grabbing my waist to go for the kiss.

We haven’t even shared names yet.

In one swift movement I hit his head on the door of my car. The hard collision was enough to knock him out. I caught him before his frame touched the ground. I held his weight effortlessly, the smile I forced started to fade.

It disappeared in the wind along with every single feeling I still had.

I shoved him in the backseat of my car, easing back into my driver seat and speeding off down the road. I had a secluded cabin in the woods. I killed the owner and tossed her into a lake. Therefore the house was mine until further notice.

I made that cabin my own personal torture chamber.

I took a sharp right to cut through the secluded woods, turning off my lights and diving slow until I’m directly in front of the cabin.

I turn off the ignition, inhaling deeply to capture his scent. I can tare into his throat and drain every bit of him.

What was in the fun of rushing it?

To act so rash?

I had nothing but time to waste and spare.

I push open my car door, stepping out and shutting it behind me. I take the male from the back seat, a line of blood is running down his forehead. He finally starts to wake from his unconsciousness.

“Where am I?!

Let me go!

Put me down!”]

If you insist.

[I drop the male to the ground roughly, he hits the back of his head. He intakes another concussion but he doesn’t goes unconscious this time. I reach down to grip his ankle, dragging him through the dirt, collecting branches with him.

His body squirms and he screams, trying to find his hardest to fight me off. I take him up the wooden steps and into the cabin with me. I throw him towards the middle of the floor, shutting the door behind me.

In enhanced speed I’m standing over him, stepping onto his chest with my right heel. I add pressure until the sharpness of my heels poke through his shirt and enter the flesh of his skin.

The fresh scent of blood makes my nostrils flare. I swipe the tip of my tongue over my lips. My vampire visage takes over my human one. The expression of terror comes over his face, his screaming is louder than before.

“What kind of monster are you?!”]

Monster.

[I repeated the words as if it had hurt my feelings. Maybe it did in the slightest. I was only a product of what was around me.

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, adding more pressure to stab him deeper.]

The type that can push your rib cage into your heart.

[I use my vampiric speed, reaching down to wrap my manicured hand around his throat and force him against the nearest wall.

I relished in his pain. The screams falling from his lips were music to my ears. I missed this song far more than I let on.

“Please don’t do this! I have a family!”]

I don’t do why should I care?

[I answered him truthfully, feeling nothing from his attempt to get through to me. To get through the black hole that was in place of my heart.

I twist his head to the right, taring my fangs into the flesh of his throat. The blood fills the warm caverns of my mouth. The taste of him finally touches my tongue, I tare back his skin and his crimson squirts thickly across my face, running down my neck.]

My plans isn’t for you to die just yet.

[I drop his figure to the floor, his body is almost motionless, he’s going through the dying process but I know he can still hear me.]

This pain you’re feeling is only temporary...

maybe even a little unnecessary.

That’s how I feel daily and it’s endless.

Could you imagine? Eternities of misery and longing for what’ll never be.

[I bring my wrist to my lips, biting into my flesh which caused a crushing sound. I brought my wrist to his open mouth, my blood drops into it. I allow a decent amount to fill him until I smell it in his veins before snatching my hand away.]

See you soon.

[I swiftly snapped his neck, it was easy and effortless. I expelled a sigh of defeat while lifting up and pulling him with me. I drag him towards the basement door, pulling it open and flicking on the light.

I carried his heavy figure down the old wooden stairway. He was now dead weight but it wasn’t too difficult. I stop near a vacant bed, dropping him on it. It was already soiled in blood from what happen before him.

I sauntered toward the only dresser in the room, grabbing some overused handcuffs. I take them towards him, making sure to cuff each of his hands securely before I made my way back upstairs.

Even if my prey is mere inches from me, I still feel beyond empty. I had very little reaction and maybe I was just unamused by it despite everything.

I was stuck with two options.

Do I kill him or do I play maker and sire and still kill him?

I saunter over to my counter, grabbing a half empty bottle of Green Apple Ciroc. I take a hold of it with a crimson colored hand, plopping on the nearest couch.

I guess now I will just wait.]

[melting-sugar-cubes]

Thanks for answering my ask, if you don't mind me asking (again), what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Of course~💕 And again, I don't mind at all~ I apologize again tho that's it's taken me so long to answer this-- ; w ;" But-- onto the answers~

Although, I will go ahead and admit that about half are carry overs from my fav character list lol

1} Howl’s Moving Castle

While this list is in no particular order, this movie was still the first thing that to came, so for that it earns the first spot-- Now, as for why I love it... Aside from some part of my younger brain latching onto Howl as an anime crush all those years ago lol-- I think some of the main reasons I love it are the characters in general, the story/journey of it all, and the fact that even though I've seen it a good few times now-- it's one of those movies that's never failed to make me smile. 100% a huge comfort movie for me, and one that I'll probably never get tired of rewatching every now and again~.

2} Therapy Game

Switching gears a little with this and the next couple spots, but-- Ho boy-- I couldn't not mention this series again as well. Because honestly, I kind of feel like it might be "that one thing" for me-- like... the one that somehow alters your brain just a lil by experiencing it?? And for why I love it... Honestly, I can't even deny or downplay the fact that Minato is a huge part of it-- Probably because I've felt like I can relate to him a fair few times over the course of the story... But also because watching him grow has somehow become this really big thing to me?? Like-- just seeing the ways he's improving himself as a person and partner with Shizuma by his side... it makes me feel so many things, good lord--

Another part of it tho, is the fact that I very much love how Hinohara-sensei is telling their story-- as even if it's coming from a life perspective I myself can't really know first hand-- a lot of the time, it still feels very relatable to me. Like-- I guess I mean that I enjoy how grounded things feel a lot of the time?? Plus, these are more factors related to recent chapter releases, but-- Curiosity is also a big driving force for my enjoyment here. Be it from getting to learn more about Minato and Itsuki's past-- Or, from slowly gaining more hints and just what the deal is with Onodera.

3} Are You Alice?

This plus the remaining list spots will probably come out to less gushing than the above lol, but-- I'd say I love AYA, once again for the characters-- but also, because I find the setting/premise to be interesting as well. I mean, I've always been kind of a sucker for Alice in Wonderland stuff, since watching the Disney movie ages ago-- But, getting this twist of a now crumbling Wonderland, built from "scrap paper"-- where most everything has some sort of dangerous edge to it... and where many character's motivations aren't what they first seem-- It all just makes for something very interesting it me.

4} Dictatorial Grimoire

Although I do feel like this manga has it's short comings, like the major one in that I feel it should've been at least a couple chapters longer-- This is another story I adore for the fact that it takes source material, and twists it into something unexpected. Be that from the Marchen demons themselves, or even the fact that Cinderella turns out to not quite be who we thought him to be for most of the story-- This series tho, it very much earns it's own bonus points for the light tone things take a decent about of the time-- as even with reading over the series a few times by now, I still enjoy and can giggle over a lot of the humor lol.

5} Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

First major note about this inclusion, is that this series has earned it's place mainly thanks to the anime-- as, while I was once reading the manga, that's something I dropped off from and have yet to pick back up. But also-- while I won't even lie that Sebastian is a major reason for my love of this series, I also adore a chunk of the other cast as well. Namely Grell, Finny, and Pluto to name just a few lol. (which, it will forever sadden me that Pluto is only canon to the anime--) I also adore the theme songs for many points of this series, mainly the OPs-- but a few of the endings I've listened to and enjoyed as well. (i even rather liked season 2-- for as much a train wreck, and non-canon disaster as it is--)

6} Coraline

Circling back around to movies now lol-- Coraline is one of those movies I enjoy for the fact that it's just a lil bit fucked up lmao-- of course, my love for stop-motion style movies/animation totally plays a big role here too. But still-- While visuals are a big reason I love this movie, I still enjoy the experience of it as a whole too~.

7} The Nightmare Before Christmas

Yet another movie I can file into the box of not being tired of, despite having seen it a few times by now lol-- With how much I've come to love Halloween, it's probably no surprise that I'd love this movie too, but-- A main point that's always stuck out to me with this one, is how much I enjoy the music. Sure, I may not go out of my way a lot of the time to listen to the songs on their own-- But, I'll damn well sing/hum the main theme whenever it gets played lmao.

8} Puff the Magic Dragon [1978 tv special]

And finally, this one was something of a surprise entry, even to me lol-- But, I thought about this special again earlier, and just knew I had to include it too. This one is a major blast from my childhood, as I used to rent it all the time... In fact, I rented it so much, that once our local video rental place was closing down-- I actually ended up with the tape, after they offered to let my mom buy/take it lol. And while I know a big part of why kid me enjoyed this was for the songs... As a kid who was almost pretty cripplingly shy most of the time, I think on some level I could relate with Jackie-- and while I might not have really had someone like Puff to help me through that time... Being able to get at least a taste of that via this lil cartoon-- Well, maybe that helped me a lot more than I realized at the time.

{Honorable Mention}

Project Diva

i'm putting this as an honorable mention, since games weren't exactly mentioned in the initial ask-- but also because i honestly haven't got very much to say about this one-- Vocaloid music has been a love of mine for a good few years now (so much so, that i've even thought about attempting to join in the hobby myself--) so enjoying a rhythm game based around that is probably not a shocker, but-- A big part of why I love this game series, aside from that, is the the fact that it serves as a big de-stress thing for me-- something I can do without thinking about it too much, and just kinda letting my brain quiet down for a while.

Food Fantasy

One more honorable game mention-- because even though I've fallen out of playing this one, Food Fan was still a lowkey obsessions of mine there for a while (as some might guess by this blog's "mascot" lol). And while I dunno if I could get back into it now-- I'll still always love plenty of the characters I know of, and was able to obtain there. Not only thanks to their designs, but also for those I got to spend time with-- and, as silly as this sounds, bond with in a way.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five  

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

Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.  

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.  

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

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

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard​

PART 7

[katsukikitten]

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

[babyboibucky]

Don’t You Worry (Your Pretty Little Head)

Pairing: Guitarist!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: THE LENGTH lmfao, soft smut??? Nothing vulgar and it’s sorta implied

A/N: I am honestly nervous about posting this piece because idk, aside from it being fucking long, I was never satisfied with how this was written lmfao. I literally rewrote this like idk 5 times??? And the fact that I made a mood board for a oneshot lmfao only means I poured my heart out into this shit and I’m really hoping y’all would enjoy this as much as my other works 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your idea of a fun Friday night involved your couch and Netflix playing in the background as you scrolled through your phone with a glass of wine in hand. This was your definition of pure bliss, something that Wanda violently opposed to.

So here you were, seated in the front of a music bar while Wanda’s favorite band played.

“See? This isn’t so bad, right? Better than wallowing in your apartment alone.” She teased as she leaned over to you, needing to amp up the volume of her voice so you can hear her.

“The fact that we can’t even hear each other properly makes wallowing alone sound so much better.” You told her, not even bothering to repeat yourself when she didn’t understand what you said over the loud music playing.

Her favorite band introduced their last song for the night and as they did, you checked your phone for the time. It was barely past ten in the evening and you were already dying to get home. You’ll bid goodbye after this, you promised yourself. Just one last song and you’re out. Before the band could even finish their last song, you’d already decided on what pizza to order and which wine to bring out.

That was until the next band came up on stage to prepare for their performance. You were leaning over Wanda already, about to tell her that you were heading home, when one particular guy caught your eye. Something that Wanda noticed when she saw you gawking at the stage.

“Oh my god. He’s definitely your type.” Wanda said when her eyes landed on the bassist.

He had dirty blonde hair and a clean-shaven face that looked a little too innocent for someone to be in a rock band. Your exact type— one with the boy next door appeal, someone you’d want to bring home to introduce to your parents. Wanda was so sure you were crushing on the bassist but as soon as he followed your line of sight, she almost choked on her own spit.

You weren’t eyeing the bassist, instead, you were completely focused on the lead guitarist. You were so enamored by this guy that you failed to notice Wanda gushing over the fact that you were enamored by someone who was the complete opposite of your type.

It was the lead guitarist who caught your attention. The one with long hair tied into a low, messy man bun, his stray locks framing his perfectly chiseled face. It wasn’t only the hair that made you look at him, it was also his left arm— it was covered entirely with tattoos. And then he started playing the guitar and good god, his fingers were something else.

It was rare for you to have certain thoughts, the kind that would make you sweat in church. And thank fuck for Wanda finally snapping you out of your filthy trance because if she hadn’t, you would’ve seriously drowned in your not so pure thoughts.

“I can’t believe you’re attracted to that guy. This makes me so excited, honestly.” Wanda squealed.

“Huh?” You played dumb of course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wanda snorted out loud, “I just witnessed you drool over the guitarist for a good five minutes. Stop denying.” She said.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I did. And so what? It’s not like I’m gonna act on it.”

“You have to fuck him.” Wanda casually suggested, making you choke on your drink.

You weren’t a prude but you didn’t like the idea of hooking up with people, most especially strangers. You weren’t going to lie though, it did cross your mind. Obviously, the way his fingers moved on his guitar really threw your brain down the gutter. Sure, you might have wondered what it’d be like to have those fingers on you but again, would you act on it? Hell no.

“It’s just one night. Live a little, come on. And you getting attracted to someone like him? That’s once in a blue moon, all the more you need to bring him home.” Wanda said.

“One night stands don’t really work well for me and you know that. The first time I tried that was also the last time because I ended up getting attached. And how did that end? Terrible. So no, thank you. Never again.” You told Wanda.

Fortunately, Wanda stopped bugging you about fucking the guitarist. It wasn’t really a big deal, it was nothing but a moment of admiration. You were hell-bent on going home anyway, well, maybe after his band finishes their first song. Besides, he wouldn’t notice you so why bother staying?

“Oh my god, he’s looking at you!” Wanda almost screamed, slapping at your arm until you turned to the stage.

And holy fuck. He was really looking at you. Why though? You even looked behind you to make sure it was you he was staring at and when you turned back at him, he smirked and threw a wink at your way.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna head home.” You said, not knowing how to act.

Wanda pulled you back down when you stood up, “Oh no, honey. No one’s going home this early.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?” She quickly added, tipping her head towards the stage.

When you looked up at the guitarist, he was still looking at you as he played. This time, he was actually pouting, as if pleading for you to stay. You quickly avoided his gaze and although it was dimly lit in the bar, you still bowed your head to hide the blush creeping up to your face.

You managed to survive the entire setlist of the band despite the flirty smiles and winks that the guitarist gave you. Wanda was ecstatic about it, it made you wonder if she was actually the one crushing on the guy. As soon as the last song was done, you excused yourself and hurried into the bathroom to compose yourself.

It was the first time that you experienced such attraction towards a guy like him. You always went with the good boys, so why were you so drawn to this guy who looked nothing but trouble? You were in denial, this was totally out of your comfort zone so you shook the thoughts away and promised yourself (again) that you’d head home this time. For real.

“There you are.”

You gasped out loud when you stepped out of the bathroom, quickly colliding against a solid chest when you heard his voice. It was low yet gentle, soft-spoken but sinful.

“I’m sorry?” You sputtered out, bowing down your head to avoid the lead guitarist’s gaze.

“I thought you left already.” He said. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He introduced, extending his left arm for a handshake.

Your eyes landed on his tattooed arm, despite the ink covering it all up you could actually see his veins.

“And I’m going home.” You quickly shook Bucky’s hand, ignoring the electricity that ran through your veins and brushed past him, eyes scanning the bar for Wanda.

Bucky jogged ahead of you, blocking your way and chuckling to himself. “Don’t I at least get a name?” He asked.

You were internally screaming, but you managed to mention your name just so he would leave you alone. Sure, he was hot and he was actually flirting with you. But your fear of the unknown outweighed your attraction. You weren’t ready to step out of your comfort zone. Yet.

Bucky trailed behind you as you looked for Wanda, cursing to yourself when you couldn’t spot her anywhere. You took out your phone and called her immediately.

“Wanda? Where are you?” You hiss into the phone.

Bucky watched you with amusement and it was making you uncomfortable. He was just staring at you with a grin on his handsome face. And now, you just discovered that Wanda left you.

“What?! But why?! You’re my ride home! Come back and pick me up!” You exclaim into the phone, unable to believe that Wanda just ditched you.

“You can’t— hello? Wanda? Hello?” You groaned in frustration when your friend ended the call.

“I’d love to offer you a ride home but it’s too early, so how ‘bout I just buy you a drink?” Bucky asked, flashing you a charming smile that made your knees weak.

Part of you wanted to give in and just say, fuck it, let Bucky do whatever he wants with you. The reasonable part of your brain though, highly opposed to this and pulled on the alarms. This guy probably just wants to get you into his bed and although it doesn’t sound that bad, you worried more for what could happen afterwards. You weren’t ready for a repeat of the past. You were too emotional, you had too many strings and they get attached way too quickly.

“No, thank you.” You told Bucky and headed outside the bar, deciding to book an Uber instead.

Bucky was persevering though and followed you out, blocking your way into the sidewalk and snatching your phone away.

“Hey, give me my phone back!” You exclaimed.

“The night is young, c’mon. Why are you so aloof anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Because I don’t know you?” You responded.

Bucky chuckled, “Have you ever heard about making friends? I mean, pretty much everyone you meet starts off as a stranger. And it’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything. I’m not gonna rob you but I most certainly won’t give you your phone back until I convince you to stay a while.” He said and god, he was too charming for your own good.

He made a good point about making friends. You couldn’t even remember the last time you made a new one. Bucky could see the gears in your head working as you stared at him, cheeks flushed and lips parted in deep thought.

“So, what do you say? Stay a while? Keep me company. It’ll be fun.” Bucky insisted.

“Why me?” You blurted out.

It wasn’t that you were insecure, but you were way too different from Bucky. You didn’t seem like his type, but then again, he wasn’t your type either. Until the moment you saw him on stage.

“Why not?” Bucky responded as if he couldn’t believe you just asked him that question.

“Do you ask that every time someone flirts with you? Besides, it’s not everyday that someone like you stared at me like that.” He teased.

Fuck, so he noticed you drooling over him. Quick! Think of a way out, you told yourself.

“Someone like me? What did you mean by that?” You asked, sounding offended.

Bucky’s eyes widened and shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you come in here wearing a chiffon blouse and a pencil skirt and expect me not to notice? I’m actually flattered that a girl, no...a woman...was ogling me. Definitely piqued my interest.” He explained.

That was a compliment, right? The sirens in your head grew louder at the way Bucky was easily throwing you compliments. He must be used to flirting his way into women’s panties, huh? 

“I wasn’t ogling you.” You defended even though you were, looking away from his eyes.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Bucky teased. “Loosen up, will ya? When was the last time you had fun anyway?” He asked.

“Depends on your definition of fun.” You retorted.

“You know what I mean.” Bucky sighed.

“Well, my idea of fun doesn’t involve a guitarist getting me into his bed for a one night stand.” You blurted out, mindlessly.

Bucky made a face and clutched his chest, “Ouch. You went hard on that judgment, I’m not gonna lie, that kinda stings.”

Okay, now you felt bad for jumping to conclusions. Bucky did look like he was hurt from your brash statement. Fuck, he probably thought you were one of those stereotypical bitches! It wasn’t entirely your fault, right? You were just being careful. Were you? Or was it purely overthinking? Your brain was moving all too fast but Bucky quickly distracted you when he took your hand and placed your phone back onto your palm.

“You know, I think I get it why you said that and I honestly can’t blame you. A band dude flirts with you just like that, understandable why you thought that I wanted to get into your pants.” He explained much to your relief.

“I’m sorry, it was tasteless for me to judge you like that.” You quickly apologized, genuinely feeling like a terrible person.

Bucky smiled at you, “Nah, you had every right. I’m sorry if I was too forward but I do really want to spend some time to get to know you. So how about a little proposal?”

There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes that made your heart flutter and your brain go into overdrive. You knew it was a bad idea to give in to Bucky. Someone as charming as him might really be up to no good. Sure, you felt bad for judging him based on his looks. But something in your gut tells you that he was trouble.

“What proposal?” You asked curiously.

“Spend the next twelve hours with me.” Bucky suggested.

You frowned, “What?”

Bucky took your phone again, but only to check the time. “It’s a little past eleven now, I promise you’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Come with me, let loose for once and let’s spend the entire night together. Twelve hours, that’s it.” He said excitedly.

“And I don’t mean have sex with me.” Bucky explained immediately.  “We’ll just hang out, it’s a wholesome proposal. But if you do want to have sex with me, I’m not gonna turn that down. I’m just saying, it’s not my motive but I won’t be saying no to it either.” He reassured.

You felt hot all of a sudden at how Bucky casually talked about having sex with you. It made you feel feverish and for someone who wasn’t really a sexual person, it made you feel like you were about to commit a major sin just by listening to Bucky talk like that.

Bucky beamed at you cutely, waiting for your response and honestly, with how his doe eyes were looking at you like that, was it even possible to say no? Despite the continuous alarms in your head and your inner prude begging you to stay within the confines of your comfort zone, you decided to do something for a change.

So you said yes.

You were spending the next twelve hours with Bucky and you could only hope that you wouldn’t regret it.

-

The night started off slow, thankfully, with Bucky ushering you back into the bar for a couple of drinks. You had to remind yourself to still be alert for any red flags that might show up sooner or later. You knew you were being a bit paranoid, but to hell, it would be better that way than to make mistakes tonight.

“Where do you work?” Bucky asked before calling the waiter.

“I work at a bank.” You told him.

The waiter arrived and took your orders, a tall glass of mojito for you and a rum and coke for Bucky. He asked you a couple more things, where you graduated, your hobbies and what you often did during your weekends. All of which you had pretty boring responses to. Bucky listened though and he didn’t seem bored too, what a relief.

“Are you really sure about spending twelve hours just like this?” You asked, taking another sip from your second glass of mojito.

Bucky snickered, “We won’t be talking the entire night, did you really think I’d ask for your twelve hours just to talk?” He asked.

“What are you planning then?” You asked nervously.

Bucky offered you an amused smile, “Nothing illegal so stop worrying, pretty lady. I can see the gears in your head turning.” He said and leaned forward to smoothen out the crease in between your brows with his thumb.

“Come on, time to have fun.” He said and got up, offering you his hand.

You haven’t even recovered from how gentle Bucky was when he touched your forehead. And now here he was, standing over you with his tattooed arm extended, waiting for you to take his hand.

“I don’t bite.” He stated.

Letting out a sigh, you finished up your drink and stood up, slipping your hand into Bucky’s. He smiled at you, lifting your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss on it before winking.

“See? I told you, I don’t bite.”

You cleared your throat and pursed your lips, biting back a smile as Bucky tugged you as he walked out of the bar, keeping your hand in his the entire time. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?

“Here.” Bucky said, handing you over his helmet.

It was then that you realized that he was about to give you a ride. On his motorcycle. The sirens in your head went off once again, bringing you back to your usual tensed state.

“Oh, no. Look, I know I said yes to your proposal but I’m not going to ride on that.” You disagreed and took a step back.

Bucky looked disappointed but shrugged anyway, placing the helmet back on the bike. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, just because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Come with me.” He said and took your hand in his again as the both of you went back inside the bar.

He brought you towards the booth where the rest of his band were staying at. They all looked at you with smirks on their faces when Bucky introduced you to them.

“That’s Nat, our vocalist. Sam here is our drummer and Steve the bassist.” He said.

You gave them a polite smile and a quick wave. Bucky threw his keys over at Steve, who was supposed to be your type. Wanda thought so and you were just weirded out that you happen to be drawn towards Bucky instead.

“Hey punk, switch your car for my bike? Just for tonight.” Bucky said.

Steve looked so done with his request but shook his head in defeat as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He pointed at Bucky threateningly, “Don’t mess up my car, jerk. You know what I mean by that.” He said before throwing his own keys over at Bucky who caught it with ease.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Thanks, pal!” Bucky bid goodbyes and pulled you again before you could even say your own goodbyes to his bandmates.

Now, you were inside Steve’s car with Bucky and you were nervous as fuck. Although you did find it considerate of Bucky to borrow his friend’s car to make things comfortable for you. You were going to admit that, but it made your heart flutter. You mentally snorted at yourself because fuck, the bar is set pretty low alright.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, noticing how you tensed up all of a sudden.

“Do we have rules?” You asked.

“This night is all about letting loose and the first thing you thought of are rules?” Bucky laughed.

“I’m about to spend the next twelve hours with a complete stranger, of course I’d be worried! What if—“

“Okay, calm down!” Bucky said, turning in his seat to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“If it’ll make you less tense then fine, I’ll come up with rules. Number one is to stop worrying.” Bucky said, rubbing your arms up and down and you were supposed to feel uncomfortable with the intimacy but you didn’t.

There was no malice to it and it made you panic all the more because ugh, Bucky was making you all soft and vulnerable around him. You could hear Wanda inside your head, commanding you to just calm down and go with the flow. You took in a deep breath and composed yourself.

“You gotta learn to trust people. I promise you, we won’t be getting in any trouble. I’ll take good care of you.” Bucky said, letting your arms go and tipping your chin so you’d look at him.

“Rule two, no what ifs. Just focus on the present, okay? If you keep worrying about what could happen, you’ll miss out on the now. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.” Something about the change in Bucky’s eyes when he said that made you curious.

He was on to something, like he really meant it. You wanted to ask him about it, hell, you should start asking him for more information. If he wanted to get to know you better then you should attempt to do the same to him too.

“Last rule is to just enjoy. Like I said, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You trust me now?” Bucky asked with hopeful eyes.

The alarms in your head still kept going, but as you gazed back at Bucky, the softer they were becoming. You could feel yourself start to give in and you know what? It actually doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe this would help with your attachment issues? This will probably teach you how to have fun with no attachments. Take things for what they are and just enjoy.

“Hey, will you trust me?” Bucky asked again.

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

-

1:15AM

Bucky took you to a hole in the wall open mic bar. It was a small place and everyone there seemed to know each other. And when Bucky arrived, everyone just greeted him and welcomed you there.

“You seem pretty popular here.” You told him as he led you to one of the seats near the makeshift stage.

“I spend a lot of time here.” He said and called over the guy by the bar.

“Hey Happy! Wanna introduce you to a special friend.” He said. The man approached your table and greeted you with a smile.

“Must be really special, you never bring anyone here.” Happy said, making you blush uncontrollably.

Bucky bit his lip as he turned to you, “Do you sing?” He asked.

You quickly shook your head, “Oh god, no. I don’t have the talent.” You said.

Happy chuckled, “That wouldn’t be a problem, trust me.” He reassured.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at you, “Wanna go up there and sing with me?”

“Bucky, no.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, no one’s gonna judge you. Let loose, remember? And if anyone here laughs at you, I’ll be the first to punch them in the face.” He promised.

You thought for a while, keeping your eyes on Bucky. Fuck this. You called Happy and requested for a shot of tequila.

“That’s my girl! Just needs a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

You snorted, “Oh that’s not for me. That’s for you. You’re gonna need it if you’ll be hearing me sing.”

You never performed in front of a crowd, well, back in high school maybe for some school plays. But hell, you were never the center of attention and whenever you had to be, you always experienced a panic attack. But now being on stage with Bucky behind you, playing the guitar as you sang (screeched actually), you’d never felt more alive and relaxed. True enough, no one cared about how off tune you were. In fact, you got a lot of cheers from the crowd.

2:45AM

“You hungry?” Bucky asked.

You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been singing on stage the entire time at the bar. You’d like to believe that it was probably the alcohol running in your veins, but you weren’t that drunk. Tipsy, maybe but definitely not drunk. It was fun, you were surprised at how much you enjoyed singing with Bucky and everybody else. You made a couple of new friends aside from Happy, talked to them and even exchanged numbers with a few. This was the most sociable you’ve ever been.

“I could use some carbs right now.” You laughed, wiping off the sweat on your forehead.

Bucky reached out to fix your hair, moving away the sweaty strands sticking onto your cheeks and tucking them behind your ear. He flashed you that oh so charming smile again and good god, Bucky was truly something else.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” He said.

Bucky drove to a 24-hour food truck somewhere. It was close to 3am but you didn’t feel exhausted, which was shocking given that you’ve been dying to go home a few hours ago before meeting Bucky and agreeing to go on an escapade with him. You could already hear Wanda squealing over the phone once you tell her everything.

The both of you ordered some soft tacos and sat on one of the benches beside the food truck.

“Enjoying so far?” Bucky asked with interest.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth full of food as you devoured your tacos. “Very much.” You admitted.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he laughed along with you, obviously pleased that you were enjoying yourself. Not long ago, twelve hours seemed a bit too long. Now, they felt too short. You could feel your brain begin to overthink what would happen once the the twelve hours are over, but you quickly shook them away and followed Bucky’s advice to focus on the present.

The two of you continued to talk as you ate. You discovered that Bucky and his bandmates go way back and that they’ve been performing since their days at the university. You also found out that Bucky’s last relationship ended six years ago and that he hasn’t dated anyone since then. You found out a lot of things about Bucky, most of which were far from your first impressions.

“Why’d your friend leave you at the bar?” Bucky asked, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

You watched him with hazy eyes as he lighted the cigarette, puffing out a thin line of smoke with ease. You were always drawn to Bucky’s fingers and initially, it was because of the impure thoughts they made you think about. But more than that, they were the gentlest you’d ever seen.

“Probably to get me to have fun.” You responded, looking away timidly when Bucky noticed you staring at his hands.

“She’s gonna be very proud of you after this.” He said.

You nodded and breathed out a chuckle, “Oh, for sure.” You said before turning to Bucky. “Can I try?” You asked, motioning towards his cigarette.

“I haven’t smoked. Ever.” You admitted.

Bucky grinned and passed you the cigarette. “Go on.” He urged and kept his eyes on you as you brought the cigarette up to your lips.

The way Bucky watched you was intimidating in the sense that it felt intimate. It wasn’t like he was eye-fucking you or anything, his eyes were just too...expressive? They held a certain softness to them, a bit of sadness too when you look at it closely. They were the bluest, most beautiful color you’ve seen and they were captivating.

You ended up in a coughing fit from that first drag. Bucky chuckled and took the cigarette from your hand, patting your back as you continued to cough.

“Definitely not for me.” You frowned and took a sip from your iced tea.

“At least you tried. I’m proud of you.” Bucky said, the gentle pats on your back slowing down until his hand remained still.

“You good?” He asked again, sliding his hand lower until he reached the small of your back, but not low enough to make you uncomfortable.

You nodded, “What else is up in your sleeve?” You asked with interest.

“Well, I really wanted to take you on a ride on my bike but I guess that’s for next time.” Bucky confessed.

“Next time?” You asked and you tried not to be hopeful.

“Yeah, next time. We’ll do that next time.” Bucky said and he sounded so sure that you began to worry.

Will there really be a next time? At this point, Bucky could read you like an open book because he chuckled and pressed his thumb against the crease on your forehead again.

“You’re doing it again, whatever you’re worrying about just forget it for now.” He said, soothing out your crease before pinching your nose.

You scrunched your nose making Bucky lightly laugh. He checked the time on his phone and let out a sigh.

3:43AM

“Can I bring you back to my place?”

-

If you told Wanda that you ended up in Bucky’s place, she would freak out and ask for all the details. But no, you didn’t come home with Bucky for that reason. As he promised, it wasn’t his motive to get you into his bed and he seemed to be genuine about it.

Bucky lived in a small studio-type loft. It wasn’t the penthouse kind with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. It was simple and minimalistic, with just a few pieces of furniture. What Bucky owned were a couple of guitars— different kinds of them, and an electric keyboard.

“It’s not much and I don’t even have a bed frame, I hope you won’t judge me for that.” Bucky said, scratching his neck as he led you inside.

“No, not at all. It’s very cozy in here, actually.” You said, looking around and taking in your surroundings.

Bucky had a lot of indoor plants, you definitely didn’t think of him as a plant guy. As you let your eyes wander, something white zoomed past your vision. A cat.

Bucky also owned a cat.

“This is Alpine.” Bucky said, picking up the feline and carrying it onto his shoulder.

As if Bucky and his plants didn’t make him attractive enough, he really had to own a white cat. You could feel yourself internally screaming about how you haven’t been seeing any red flags. If any, you’ve been seeing green flags pop out every now and then that it was pretty alarming. Strangely, the sirens in your head died down as if they’ve given up on warning you.

Or maybe, there was really nothing to warn about Bucky.

The cat purred and nuzzled its nose into Bucky’s neck and you couldn’t believe that you got jealous for a brief second. Oh, to be cat against Bucky’s chest.

“Feel free to look around, I’ll get you water.” He said, bringing Alpine with him into the kitchen.

You walked around his place and observed the surroundings. He was very organized, more than you actually. You could hear Bucky talk to Alpine and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

A couple of picture frames that sat on Bucky’s bedside table caught your eye. They were photos of him with his mom you assumed, and three more girls.

“Those are my mom and younger sisters.” Bucky said, appearing behind you with a glass of water.

You thanked him as you took the glass and sat down on his bed, “Where are they?” You asked before drinking.

Alpine jumped into your lap and purred, making Bucky laugh with delight as he sat next to you. His parents were back in his hometown together with his sisters. Bucky told you everything about his family and how close he was to his sisters, how they were supportive of him when he decided to become a musician. Then Bucky went on to showcase his guitar collection, telling you the lovely stories behind each of them. You could see how passionate Bucky was for his craft and it was a wonderful thing to witness. You were envious how Bucky pursued his passion, how he took huge risks to get to where he was now.

“And this is my favorite one.” Bucky said, taking a black electric guitar with him as he went back to sit down next to you.

“First one I bought with my own money. It’s old and doesn’t sound as nice as my newer ones, but I love it.” He said and started plucking at the strings.

Alpine hopped off from your lap and went to sleep onto his tiny little bed beside Bucky’s couch. You focused on Bucky’s fingers as he played the guitar. It took you back to the moment you saw him onstage, how those fingers made you wonder about certain things. They moved gracefully against the cords, plucking with ease producing the most wonderful music. You really needed to snap out of your filthy thoughts.

Bucky played the guitar for you, singing some lyrics once in a while. You noticed his tattoos again and stared a bit longer, trying to decipher each design wrapped around his arm. Some were huge, some intricate more than the rest. They were all of different designs but molded together so perfectly.

You had to admit, you didn’t find tattoos attractive before. But on Bucky, it looked like a masterpiece. He himself, was a piece of art with his chiseled jawline and steel blue eyes that made you feel at home.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you softly trailed.

Bucky hummed in response, his attention focused on his guitar as he continued to play.

“Your tattoos, do they mean something?” You asked.

“I got them to cover up the scars from an accident.” Bucky looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You quickly apologized.

Bucky smiled reassuringly, “It’s fine. It was a turning point for me.” He said, setting his guitar aside.

“It really puts things into perspective you know. I crashed my bike one night, I wasn’t drunk, mind you.” He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, my left arm suffered the most. I almost got decapitated but here I am. I got scars all over, really ugly scars so I had them covered up with a tattoo sleeve.” Bucky explained, extending his left arm and looking at it.

“For a while, I wasn’t able to play music. And I hated every second of it. Hated seeing the scars on my arm and how they reminded me of the accident. But you learn to live with it. At least I did, I learned to turn the negative into something positive.”

Now that he said that, you could actually see some of the scars beneath the ink. Bucky shrugged and continued with his story.

“The doctors said I was lucky that I didn’t die. Living my second life now, I realized that I gotta make the most out of it. Focus on the present and enjoy what comes your way. Take risks. Do what scares you.” He explained and now you understood.

You understood why Bucky appeared to be so laid-back and carefree, why he doesn’t worry a lot about the future. He almost lost his life so now he was living it to the fullest. He was living in the present, enjoying every second of it.

“Every time I see my tattoos, I get reminded of my second chance at life and how I shouldn’t waste it.” He said.

Bucky saw the look in your face, how guilty you looked from judging him right away. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up to make you look at him.

“So when I noticed that bored pretty office girl in the audience checking me out, I didn’t waste the opportunity to get to know her. See where it goes, who knows if I’d still be alive tomorrow but at least I shoot my shot.” He said, making you chuckle.

Everything went still in that moment, your usually noisy mind included. Time seemed to have stopped as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes. Biting your lip, you gave in and totally let down your walls.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, doing the same thing with his thumb, soothing the crease in between your brows.

This time, he didn’t take his hand back and allowed it to rest against your cheek before sliding down to your jaw and neck. His thumb began to caress the spot beneath your ear, waiting for you to respond to his question.

What Bucky got was more than just a simple response.

“Fuck it.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto Bucky’s.

All your life you played it safe— from your college course to your choice of career. You weren’t one to take risks either and whenever you needed to, they were always calculated. You did things carefully, making sure that you’d get the results you were expecting to save you from disappointment. The unknown scared you and so does uncertainty. You liked staying in your comfort zone but as much as you’ve been denying it, it was starting to get boring.

You also said you weren’t one to entertain a stranger, let alone hook-up with one. But then Bucky comes along with his long hair and tattooed arm, looking like trouble but bringing you none. You’d think that he just wanted to get into your pants but as he showered you with gentle kisses and feathery touches, you realized that Bucky might be different and that he was so much more than just the hot lead guitarist of a band.

Bucky’s calloused fingers perfectly contrasted the smooth expanse of your skin. They felt rough but remained gentle as they moved along your chest, as they danced along your back, as they stroked your inner walls. And his lips, they were tender and soft; they whispered nothing but promises and praises against your ear as your bodies moved in unison.

His eyes remained on you, taking all of your nakedness in, literally and figuratively. He watched you closely, with those blue eyes of his that always made you blush. Bucky’s eyes were truly mesmerizing, no matter how much you wanted to look away from embarrassment, you couldn’t. You felt trapped in those eyes, and you never want to leave.

And his left arm— you could feel the ridges of his scars as you let your hands feel his skin. But they weren’t ugly, didn’t feel weird against the pads of your fingers. His arm offered nothing but warmth and support when you reached your high and came crashing down. His arms caught you and protected you, his embrace was reassuring and it made you feel safe.

5:58AM

The city was quiet and the sun was barely up. Alpine was still curled up on his bed, sleeping. You were exhausted but satisfied and comfortable as you laid on your stomach, head turned and facing Bucky as you listened to him talk.

He was talking about his band’s first performance in college, laughing when he said that he almost threw up from being so nervous. Bucky had the softest voice in the wee hours of dawn, you loved listening to him. Lucky you, Bucky had been talking about anything and everything until the dark skies began to change its hues. He shared his dreams and his secrets and you admired him more and more.

“You should come to our rehearsals.” He suggested, letting a hand trace patterns on your bare back.

“Sounds nice.” You yawned, blinking your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

“What do you want for brunch?” Bucky asked, almost mumbling from being half-asleep.

You hummed, “By the time we wake up, it might be close to dinner.” You joked.

“Breakfast food is way better during dinner. Want me to cook for you?” Bucky said before yawning.

Your eyes were lidded as you took in Bucky’s form. He was laying beside you, long hair messed up and lips swollen pink from kissing. He looked unreal as a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through his curtains, embracing his body with its warm glow. The sun was now fully up, witnessing the tender aftermath of your intimacy with Bucky as he reached out to brush his knuckle along your cheekbone.

“I’m surprised you can cook.” You said softly, close to falling asleep.

“I’m pretty good at it.” Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll cook for you when we wake up.” 

Bucky’s soft lips against yours was the last thing you felt before sleep took over.

-

12:24PM

A soft purr paired with soft paws on his face stirred Bucky awake. He groaned at Alpine when she meowed right into his face. Must be feeding time, he thought.

Bucky gently moved Alpine aside and turned, only to be met by a cold, empty space beside him. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes before quickly scanning his apartment for you.

You were gone.

And judging by the cold sheets on your side of the bed, you’d left hours ago. Bucky sighed in disappointment as he got up, putting on his boxers and quickly checking the bathroom. He hoped you’d be there, but you weren’t.

You didn’t even leave a note.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to cook for you, really. He wanted to bring you to his band’s rehearsals, maybe even write a song for you.

He wanted more than twelve hours with you.

-

Wanda had been on your ass for days now. When you told her about your twelve hours with Bucky, she was happy and proud. By the time you got to the end of it, she was fuming and was close to actually physically hurting you.

She wouldn’t stop bugging you about it, demanding you to at least look Bucky up on Facebook or Instagram. Wanda believed that what you and Bucky shared that night was special, something real and not just a one-time thing.

You woke up that morning, feeling sore but happy. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you opened your eyes to the sight of Bucky sleeping peacefully beside you. He seemed to be dreaming, his brows creased and lips pursed.

Reaching out, you did what Bucky kept on doing to you whenever you were worrying. You pressed your thumb against his forehead, soothing out the crease as gentle as you could so as not to wake him up. Bucky stirred in his sleep and unconsciously took your hand in his, pressing a kiss onto your palm before falling back into his slumber.

And that’s when it started; the alarms in your head went off and they were the loudest they’ve ever been. You were almost deafened by it, your logic drowning beneath your panicked thoughts as you got up from bed. You dressed up in a hurry, grabbing your things and phone to book yourself a ride home. Alpine woke up and ran over to your legs, purring as if begging you not to go.

You refused to look back and went straight for the door.

One and a half week later, here you were still feeling like the most terrible person on the entire planet. You had searched for Bucky online, of course. You just didn’t tell Wanda that but it was the first thing that you did upon going home. There were instances when you were tempted to send him a DM, or add him up on Facebook but you never did. 

That one night with Bucky changed everything, it changed you. You immediately filed for a resignation, realizing that you were no longer happy working for the bank. It was a spur of the moment decision but you knew it was the right one. You didn’t even know where to apply next or what career to pursue. But you weren’t worried like you had expected to be.

Bucky taught you to take risks, to not fear the unknown because things will eventually fall into place. You felt good though, that you were slowly learning to step out of your comfort zone. But something was amiss and you knew what it was. Or who it was.

You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

-

It was around nine in the evening when you went to the grocery store for a last minute shopping decision. Wanda was coming over for a movie night and apparently, you didn’t have any snacks left.

Finishing your list, you turned at the corner of an aisle and collided with somebody. Your apology died on your tongue when you looked up to see a familiar face.

Steve.

“Hi.” You softly greeted, wondering if he would even remember you.

He frowned at you and you were surprised that he remembered you and actually knew about that night.

“Why’d you leave Bucky just like that?” He asked right away.

You swallowed and avoided his gaze, “It was...it’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyway.” You lied through your teeth.

Steve scoffed, “It didn’t seem like a one-time thing when Bucky came to our rehearsals the next day feeling bummed out.” He explained and sighed afterwards, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m in no position to interfere. I don’t know you and why you did that so who am I to judge? But I know Bucky. He isn’t what you think he is.” Steve said.

“I know.” You whispered.

“Then why’d you leave?” Steve asked again but didn’t wait for a response.

“Bucky may come off a little too strong, he’s straightforward and passionate. He gives it his all and that night with you...he gave everything. He was really hurt when you left.”

You were unable to speak because fuck, you messed up big time. You didn’t know that Bucky was going to feel that way when you left. You got scared and ran away even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Steve must have noticed your guilt and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“We’re playing tonight at the music bar. You have the chance to make things right.” Steve said and offered you a small smile before leaving.

You stood in the grocery store while in deep thoughts. Again, your mind was all kinds of messed up and your thoughts were fighting for dominance. There were sirens going on and off and fuck, it was all driving you insane. Your heart began to race when you felt an impending sense of doom wash over you. You were panicking and you were fighting so hard to calm your nerves.

And then you remembered Bucky that night and how he was quick to silence your brain with a simple yet comforting gesture.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

A thumb on your forehead to soothe your worries. Those steel blue eyes providing you comfort, and that charming smile that never failed to reassure you.

You quickly called Wanda.

“Movie night is cancelled!”

-

The dimly lit music bar welcomed you with a sense of familiarity. It had been more than a week since your encounter with Bucky and yet it felt like it was only yesterday.

Smiling to yourself, you remembered how tensed you were when Bucky first approached you. You were so defensive, you had your walls built up high but Bucky managed to bring them down. It didn’t even take him the full twelve hours to do so.

The music bar was full with no vacant spot near the stage. The current band just finished their song and was preparing to exit. You squeezed your way to the front, ignoring the complaints of people you slightly pushed away. A familiar voice greeted the crowd a good evening before introducing their band.

Your breath hitched when you spotted Bucky onstage. His hair was down and he was sporting a little bit of scruff. You watched him play his guitar but something was different. He wasn’t as passionate as he used to be, like he wasn’t focused. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. And his eyes, they were empty and void of any emotion. No mischievous glint in them, no nothing.

It broke your heart seeing Bucky like this, especially that you knew you were the reason for it.

It took a while for Bucky to look up and scan the crowd and when he finally did, his eyes immediately met yours.

Just like the first time, you felt your face heat up from the eye contact. Bucky was surprised to see you, you saw how his eyes widened at the sight of you. He was quick to recover though, he looked away and focused on playing the guitar instead.

As soon as his band exited the stage, you wasted no time to approach them. Steve greeted you with a nod before calling for Nat and Sam, asking for them accompany him to the bar to give you some privacy. Bucky refused to look at you as he gathered his stuff, preparing to leave.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“I’m heading home.” Bucky curtly responded and brushed past you.

The tables have turned with you walking ahead of him to block his way.

“The night is young, stay a while and keep me company?” You used his line and Bucky was having none of it.

He scoffed and shook his head, “I’m surprised you remembered what I said. I mean, after you just disappeared I assumed you’d completely forgotten about that night.”

“I didn’t.” You told him. “Can we please talk?” You pleaded.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I really wanna go home.” He said.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, “Give me twelve minutes.” You offered.

“Just twelve minutes of your time. Please, Bucky.”

-

The two of you stepped outside the bar for some silence. Bucky walked over to his bike, leaning against it as he looked at you coldly. Those eyes used to gaze at you with warmth, but now they were blank and cold.

“Time is ticking.” He said when you kept mum.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.” You said, looking down at your feet.

How else were you going to say your piece? You had practiced your speech on the way to the bar and now that Bucky was in front of you, you couldn’t even look at him from shame.

Bucky scoffed, “You asked me for twelve minutes and that’s all you’re gonna say? You’re sorry? Just that?” He bitterly chuckled, running a hand over his scruff.

“If you didn’t mean it then why did you leave? You left me without any warning. I honestly thought there was something between us. After everything that happened, how could you just walk away like that? You led me on, didn’t you?” Bucky angrily asked.

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t but I got scared!” You admitted.

“Scared of what?” He asked. “Scared of me? Because I’m not the kind of guy you usually go for? You really couldn’t get rid of that first impression, huh?” He said and turned around.

“That’s not the reason why. Everything scared me because that night was something else. You were too good to be true, Bucky! That’s what scared me!” You told him.

Bucky turned around, his brows creased, “What?”

When you woke up that morning, everything seemed perfect. The past twelve hours you had spent with Bucky were wonderful and you loved every second of it. You enjoyed too much and the thought of it being a one-time thing really broke your heart.

You had attachment issues and you thought that giving in to Bucky would help you learn to enjoy things as they were. But it didn’t and made it even worse because you got attached, so fucking attached.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending those twelve hours with a permanent goodbye so I left. You suddenly talked about next time and tomorrow and it was...it was overwhelming for me. My fear got the best of me because that night was too good. You were too good.”

Bucky’s expression softened after hearing your side. Now you felt stupid for overthinking things. It was selfish on your part to assume that those twelve hours meant nothing to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized softly. “That night meant everything to me, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to find out whether it meant the same to you.” You confessed with a sigh.

Bucky stayed quiet after your confession. You could feel your bile rising, you wanted to throw up. Hell, you wanted to just faint and forget about everything. If Bucky wouldn’t give you a second chance, you’d understand him. You did a pretty shitty thing to him anyway.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You lifted your gaze upon hearing that line. Bucky’s eyes had their warmth back and his expression was no longer stoic. He pushed himself away from his bike and approached you, reaching out to soothe the crease on your forehead.

“It’s not everyday that I find myself in the company of a stranger who made me feel things. I’ve always been a traditional one, I take things slow and I’ve been very careful. When I felt something during those twelve hours, I was caught off guard. I never felt so strongly for someone I just met and it was all new to me and I panicked.” You confessed.

“You were out of my comfort zone and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Bucky.”

You were met with pure silence after your admission. When you looked up at Bucky, you couldn’t read his expression. Thinking that he wasn’t buying your explanation, you let out a bitter chuckle and shrugged.

“I guess that’s it. Twelve minutes. No more no less. I just wanted you to know that, Bucky. And I’m really, really sorry.” You said and slowly backed away, ready to leave.

“Hey.” Bucky called out, approaching you.

“If I asked you to spend the next twelve hours with me again, where would you go after?” He asked.

Was this a test? You didn’t know how to respond and Bucky seemed to have caught up on that and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Will you stay until the morning this time?” He asked. “‘Cause I was pretty disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed. I had our brunch planned out, you know?”

The mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes was back. You bit back a smile when Bucky cradled your head into his palm, thumb circling the skin on your neck.

You timidly nodded, tilting your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a searing kiss that promised you another twelve hours together. And more.

“No more running off in the morning.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky @5-seconds-of-mendes​ 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 4) - Safety Nets

Summary: The reader has her first date with Jensen, a simple dinner at home with him and the kids, but when they get a moment alone, he shares some information about the accident hardly anyone knows. Just as things start to get moving with the pair, Jensen has to head to Canada for filming ahead of schedule but he’s not so sure he can go back to whole weeks away from his family right now...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,200ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, mention of injury, depression, anxiety, self-worth problems

A/N: Shopping buddies are the best ;) Please enjoy!

________

“Can I help set the table?” you asked the next evening, Jensen shaking his head at you.

“JJ, can you set the table for me?” asked Jensen. She jumped up from the couch and got out silverware, setting an extra spot for you.

“Y/N, are you and dad on a date?” she asked when she finished up. You looked down from where you leaned back against the counter, Jensen chuckling.

“Yes we are sweetie. If this goes well I’d like to take Y/N out on Friday, maybe you guys can go to Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen’s,” he said.

“You should go out with dad,” said JJ. 

“Oh I should?” you said, crossing your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Cause he’s strong and handsome and smart and funny and…” she said, holding up her hand and counting on her hand. 

“The hair,” he whispered, a smirk crossing your face.

“Oh and he’s only got a few gray hairs!” she said.

“Oh. Well that is interesting,” you laughed, Jensen smacking himself in the face.

“Great hair, JJ. Not gray. Great,” he said.

“You do have gray whiskers,” she said.

“Like...barely,” he said. “See what I put up with? A few teensy tiny little patches in my beard if it grows out.”

“I don’t know if I can date a man of such frail age,” you said. He cocked his head and you laughed, JJ giggling as she went to get the plates.

“Keep it up you two,” he said. You walked over to him, JJ going past with the plates. “Come to tease some more?”

“I was told you’re quite handsome, thought I’d get a closer look,” you said. 

“You can have as close a look as you want,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Calm yourself, Casanova,” you said, reaching up to the cupboard to get another plate for JJ. “Here sweetie.”

“Thanks,” she said. She set it ran back over, hugging you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

“Good,” she said. You bent down and picked her up, resting her on your hip. 

“Where’d you think I was going?” you asked. She shrugged and Jensen stopped stirring the pot.

“I don’t know. Wherever you were before. Dad’s a lot happier since you live with us now,” she said.

“Well taking care of you three is hard all by yourself,” you said. You set her down and patted her head. “Go get your brother and sister for dinner.”

“You’re good with them,” he said, stirring the pot again.

“They’re people. Small people that don’t know half of what adults do but still people. Sometimes you gotta treat ‘em like it. Most of the time actually,” you said. 

“I talked to her earlier about this whole situation,” he said.

“Besides listing off all your selling points what’d she think?”

“Well apparently she’s in favor of me asking if you’d marry me tonight,” he said.

“Oh. Shotgun wedding. Simple. I like it,” you laughed. He turned his head and smiled, glancing down for a long moment, slowly returning.

“Why doesn’t this situation scare you? The kids, me who has been all over the place lately, not to mention my job, long distance, the shit you get just for-” he said, your hand covering his mouth.

“I didn’t say it’s not a lot, Jensen. It’s scary. Of course it is. Every single one of my relationships has ended badly for one reason or another. Friendships. Family ones. Romantic ones. You’re handsome and you’re so successful and I’m literally a nanny but you said you wouldn’t hurt me. So I’ll trust that you won’t and you trust I won’t hurt you and it’ll work itself out.”

“That simple huh.”

“I’m easy going. Let’s keep it simple,” you said.

“Simple works,” he said as you pulled the pot off the burner before it bubbled over. “Simple definitely works.”

“This is not a good idea,” you said two hours later, the kids in bed, you and Jensen jumping up and down on the trampoline in the yard.

“Oh most certainly not,” he said, landing near you and sending you up. You yelped and landed back down on your bottom, Jensen bouncing again, sending you up again and laughing this time. “Well that’s a cute sound.”

“Boys. Is it taught somewhere that you gotta tease a girl when you like her?” you asked, Jensen pulling you to your feet and bouncing around lightly.

“Right after manly man class, duh,” he said. 

“You would have failed, I can tell you right now,” you said. He scoffed and you shrugged. “That’s kinda a really good thing.”

“That your ex? Tough guy all the time?” he asked.

“Not like, to that extent or anything. I had a bad day and I really needed someone and he let me down. He got mad at me for it actually. He called depression a phase I needed to get over with,” you said. He stopped bouncing and you did the same, glancing down. Next thing you knew he playfully tackled you onto the trampoline, rolling to his side and smiling at you. 

“Some of my friends have it. One of my best friends does. Jared. If he ever knocks on the door late at night or whatever, let him in.”

“You take care of everyone in your life it seems,” you said.

“You take care of the people you care about, not insult them. Hopefully the ex figures that out someday.”

“How’d you figure it out?” 

“I don’t do anything anyone else shouldn’t,” he said.

“Maybe that’s it,” you said. “You’re unapologetically good and you don’t even know how rare that is.”

“It takes up too much energy to be angry or mean or cruel. I’d just rather be happy,” he said.

“You got a lot of friends, don’t you.”

“My fair share,” he said.

“How many would you call close?”

“Maybe ten or so.”

“How many real close?”

“Two or three.”

“How many know what really happened that day? Your wife…” you said. He stared at you and swallowed.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because when we met you said she died in an accident but then you said it was her head. You’re holding onto something, something you don’t talk about.”

“She was driving when the aneurysm happened. I was in the car with her. I almost died. It’s seemed easier to lie about that.”

“Who knows?”

“My parents and Jared. They’re the only ones.”

“You ever talk to anyone about it?” 

“I went to talk to someone a few times. I’m better now,” he said with a smile. “I don’t share a lot if you may have guessed already. Not to too many people. But you it feels so easy to.”

“Must be special,” you said. He smiled and reached a hand over, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. “That why you like me?”

“There’s a lot of stereotypical reasons to like someone and part of that is true in why you choose someone I suppose. But there’s this other part that when you meet someone that you can’t really explain.”

“I get that. I get all of it. My brain always seems to want to go to the bad scenario first I suppose,” you said. You looked up at the black sky, Jensen toying with another strand between two fingers. “I wish it didn’t do that so much.”

“You’re just trying to protect yourself is all,” he said.

“But I come off as pushy and distant,” you said, turning your head. “Like I’m that person that’s cool with everything being casual.”

“Well think of it like this trampoline. It’s the only thing holding us up right now right?” he asked and you hummed. “Well my life, I’ve had thousands of safety nets below me to catch me when I fall so even if I tore through one, there was more to hold me up while the others got fixed. You never had as many to start and I think more of yours broke and there was no way to fix them in time so you kept tumbling through until you got to the ground.”

“Your point?”

“Maybe some people hit the ground and others never do. But the people who hit the ground, as they go back up they can make the best most solid nets in the world to hold them up. One good net beats a thousand flimsy ones.”

“So at what age do I get the wisdom?” you asked, turning your head and smiling over at him.

“You don’t. My job has made me fall through more nets than I wanted to and this year made me realize I might not have a thousand strong nets at the bottom but I just needed one to get by and now I’m working back up. You’re not even close to being down low either. You’ve already had the hardest part of your life. It’s all up from here.”

You leaned over and he lay back on the trampoline, gazing up at you. You lowered your head as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in close until your lips were touching. Part of your mind was reeling from that in itself but the other half knew that was his first kiss since his wife. You inched back but stayed close, Jensen peeling open his eyes. 

“You okay?” you asked.

“Very,” he said. You lay back beside him, Jensen letting you go. His hand reached out for yours though and laced your fingers together. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“Wanted to,” you said.

“Cool. I wanted to kiss you too,” he said. 

“Alright then.” You stared upwards, the trampoline shifting again. He popped into view propped up on one arm, your head turning slightly. He was flush, even in the dim light. He moved slowly but you let him come to you, a barely there gentle kiss that lingered, a thousand gears going in your head, likely a thousand more going off in his. 

“I’m okay,” he said quietly as he pulled back a few inches. Your fingers carded through his hair and he smiled. “I’ll get the hang of this again. I promise.”

“That was more than enough for one night,” you said. “We said slow and we’ll go slow, okay?”

“Sounds good with me.”

Two Days Later

“Y/N, can I have a word with you in my office?” asked Jensen as you were picking up after dinner. You hummed and put the last fork in the dishwasher before following him down to a quieter part of the house. He shut the door behind you and he ran his hand over his face. “This is about work, my work, but it’s going to involve you. Heavily.”

“What’s up?” you asked, taking a seat in a chair. He sat in his by his desk, scrunching up his face.

“My job with that TV show, The Boys, it films in Canada. I’m gonna need to be up there four, maybe five months. The way things used to work with my wife was I would fly back home every weekend or every other weekend. I never went more than 2 weeks seeing the kids. I don’t have to film every day but it’s easier to stay there for the week. But it’s...it’s difficult for me. It’s difficult for them and...they lost one parent this year. I can’t stay away that long for months. I just can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” you said.

“I’d like to temporarily move to Canada while I film. No flying back and forth. The kids can see me everyday and I can see them. JJ’s school still offers remote learning and I’m homeschool certified in a pinch. Twins can do daycare easy. The only issue I have is the same one I originally did. I still need a nanny. Only now in a different country...and it’s gonna be more late nights on the regular.”

“I see,” you said.

“This isn’t what you signed up for so if you don’t want it, that’s okay. I can find a nanny up there and we can try long distance and-” he said before you stood and walked in front of him.

“I’m in.”

“Really? I mean it’s gonna be awhile before we’re back in the states,” he said.

“It sounds like fun.”

“Awesome. I was really hoping you’d say that,” he said.

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“Toronto. Well, near there. I gotta start filming start of February but there’s promo stuff to do in late January,” he said.

“It’s already late January,” you laughed. “When do we have to move?”

“Uh, tomorrow,” he said. “Just got the call a few hours ago. I got a house to rent lined up already.”

“Oh wow. Alright. Uh, what do I need to do exactly?” you asked.

“Keep stuff normal. Don’t worry about cleaning or anything. Maybe box up anything you want to bring and some of the kids stuff. Toys, books, that stuff. I’ll handle their bags. We’ll ship it all up tomorrow and take a flight up at night,” he said.

“Okay, cool,” you said. “Wait I need like, a snow jacket right?”

“We’ll get you set up there with coat and boots and all that,” he said. 

“Gotcha,” you said, starting to leave before you spun around and walked smack into his chest. “Wait. I have a lot more questions actually. Like...I don’t have a passport?”

“I know which is why tomorrow morning first thing you’re gonna go down to the post office, get your passport done up and when it comes in, we’ll get it shipped up to Canada,” he said.

“How do I get into Canada though?”

“We share a border with them so we bring your license and birth certificate, you can go right on in no problem,” he said.

“Oh. Okay,” you said. “Wait. I’ve never been on an airplane before. What-”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Take a hot second and breathe and we’ll go from there. I know it’s last minute but it’ll work out. I promise.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen, tapping your shoulder two days later. You hummed and reluctantly turned your head away from staring out the back sliding doors to the snow covered yard and trees around you. “Have you ever seen snow before?”

“No. Not like this,” you said, head going back to staring outside. “It’s something out of a movie.”

“You had that same look on your face when we took off last night in the plane.”

“What’s that?”

“Those little moments where the years fall off and you get that childish joy, like nothing bad has ever happened,” he said. 

“I suppose there’s hope for me yet,” you said with a smile.

“Oh there was always that,” he chuckled. He threw an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him. “Can I still take you out Friday?”

“Who’s gonna watch the kids?” you asked.

“My buddy.”

“Does he exist?” you said, grinning at him. 

“Cute,” he said, ruffling your bedhead. “Yes he does exist. How’s Friday night sound?”

“Do I need a dress?” you asked.

“Probably. It’s a nice place,” he said. “My favorite place in Toronto actually. Jeans are perfectly acceptable there though.”

“I’ll pick out a dress today too,” you said. You kissed his cheek and watched them turn an ever so light pink. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “Put your boots and coat on the card I gave you alright? That’s a business expense.”

“Whatever you say boss,” you said. “I’m gonna duck out before the little ones get up. I’ll try not to be gone too long.”

“Take your time. Drive slow in the snow until you get the hang of it, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“What the fuck’s the difference between therma heat and therma wear…” you mumbled to yourself, gawking at the glove rack at the store an hour later.

“I think it’s just marketing,” said the guy on the other side. You jumped and managed to knock about five pairs off the hangers. He laughed quietly and peeked his head around. “Didn’t mean to spoke ya.”

“It’s alright. I’m…” you said, the man smiling as you shook your head out. “Um...I…”

“You okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded and he smiled. “You sure cause you were just having a life crisis over gloves a second ago and now you can’t seem to form a sentence.”

“You’re Home…” you said, shutting your eyes. “You’re the actor that plays...I’m having a fucking day.”

“Looks like it,” he said, bending down and picking up some of the gloves. He laughed again and you got the ones closest to you, putting them back. “You know it’s like ten degrees outside right? Not exactly sneaker weather.”

“I know. This place looks pretty but it’s worse than a Texas summer almost with how cold it is.”

“I thought you sounded not from here,” he said with a smile. “I’m not from around here either. I do better with the heat myself.”

“Okay um, listen...uh, what’s your name, not Homelander?” you asked.

“Antony,” he chuckled again.

“I’m Y/N. I’m just gonna get the weird stuff out of the way cause…” you said as he smiled but stepped back a foot. “Yeah. Um I’m a fan but like...do you know Jensen Ackles?”

“Why?” he asked.

“He’s my boss...and my boyfriend but that’s another story. We might run into each other at some point, probably very likely. Just wanted to throw that out there.”

“Your boss?” he asked.

“I nanny his kids. I wouldn’t believe me if I were you either. I should go,” you said. You groaned when you were past him, hearing a pair of feet jog to catch up with you. 

“I know you. You were on his instagram last week right? Yeah okay, that makes sense why a clueless Texas girl is stressing over gloves.”

“Excuse me?” He shook his head and smiled. 

“Get a pair of thick gloves, thinner ones but not too thin, a warm hat, good boots for traction along with some boot spray and go with a longer hooded parka. It’ll be warmer. Throw in a few pairs of wool socks to be sure,” he said.

“Oh. Thank you,” you said. You looked back at the store and then to him. “There’s like five hundred coats in here.”

“How about you buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll help you out. Deal?”

“Why would you help me?” you asked.

“Well I’m gonna be working with Jensen quite a bit and he’s your boyfriend too apparently plus it’s just nice,” he said.

“You’re so not like your character.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. We’ll be out of here in an hour tops.”

Antony turned out to be very helpful since apparently you had an uncanny ability to be attracted to the least warmth rated items in the whole store. But you had your parka and boots on now, other items tucked away in the bags as you browsed through a rack of black dresses at a different store.

“We dress shopping now?” said Antony, sipping on his coffee cup.

“Dude,” you said, jumping again. “You gotta learn to make noise.”

“It’s my natural stealth,” he said. “That one.”

“What?”

“That one,” he said, nodding to a dress on the wall.

“I can’t pull that one off,” you said.

“Try it. I’ll watch your stuff,” he said.

“You’re oddly nice,” you said. “To a stranger.”

“Well this beats my plans of walking around the mall buying crap I don’t need. Besides, I like you.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I’m taken,” he laughed. “Come on. Everybody needs a shopping buddy.”

“Okay but if you’re a weirdo Jensen will kick your ass,” you said, finding your size and taking it off the rack. “Just sayin’.”

“I like the guy more already,” he said. “It’s not like it’s your first date or anything.”

“...Second date.” He stared and looked away. “It’s…complicated.”

“I heard about...you know…the accident,” he said. 

“Let him bring that up,” you said and he nodded. You took the dress into the changing room and smirked at the mirror. “Alright, maybe we give this one a shot.”

You changed back and found Antony on a bench outside. 

“I should take you shopping more often,” you said. “You have good taste.”

“Sounds like a winner,” he said, handing you back your bags. “I gotta head out for work but it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’m sure I’ll see you around very soon.”

“Me too. Thanks for the help today, really.”

“Not a problem at all. See ya later,” he said as he headed out. You gave him a wave and picked out a pair of black heels to go with the dress before you were heading home.

“Hey Jensen,” you said late that night. He’d had to go in for some photos in the afternoon and had taken quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated. “Leftovers are in the container on the top shelf.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. He rubbed his eyes and padded into the kitchen before tossing the container in the microwave.

“Um, Jensen? Can I talk to you about work?” you asked. His ears perked up and he nodded while he looked around for a spoon. “Second drawer to the left.”

“Thanks,” he said. “So what’s up? Something wrong?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking earlier though about a backup plan,” you said. He took out the container and grabbed his spoon sitting across from you at the table.

“What’s a backup plan?” he asked, shoveling a spoonful of too hot pasta into his mouth.

“Well down in Austin, say I was suddenly unable to perform my job duties cause I’m sick or hurt or I’m off on vacation or whatever. Down there I have a network of other nannies that could step in temporarily, they can do a pick up or drop off in a bind, that sort of thing. It’s kind of a support group in way. It’s good for me and for you.”

“They must have one of those things up here?” he asked, taking a slower bite this time. You spun your computer around and he nodded. “Tornanny. That’s cute. You gotta sign up or something?”

“I need to take a four hour class. They have one on Saturday morning. Is it okay if I sign up?” you asked. He chuckled and took another bite of food.

“Weekends are still yours to do as you please. I need a bit more help during weeknights or mornings but weekends are still yours. I’m also compensating your pay for the additional time and no you’re not winning that argument so don’t even try.”

“Okay. I’m gonna sign up,” you said, turning the computer back.

“What was that thing on the side?” he asked.

“Hm?” you said as you started filling in the form.

“Some happy hour thing on the side,” he said. You flicked your eyes over to the side of the page and saw the group posting. “That could be fun.”

“Do I look like the kind of person that goes to happy hours?” you said.

“Well maybe you could meet a nanny friend in this group, one you could maybe get to cover for you if you ever needed it. I did steal you away from everything you know to a different country with a days notice after all. I’d go with you if you want,” he said. 

“What about the kids?”

“Hm?”

“Jensen. I’m starting to see a fatal flaw in me being the nanny and us dating. I’m the person that should be watching the kids when you go out,” you said.

“Hm,” he said, eating for a few moments. “You do have a point. I think we need to renegotiate your contract.”

“Wait you’re firing me?” you said, Jensen shaking his head and laughing. “Okay cause you were about to lose a girlfriend for a second there.”

He smiled to himself and looked down, playing with his dinner. 

“So what are you talking about?” you asked.

“Well, girlfriend,” he chuckled. “How about this? Weekends you don’t work, at all, for any reason. If you watch the kids for an hour while I duck to the store, it’s cause you’re doing it cause of us, not as part of your job. If we want to go out or on a date on the weekend, we’ll get a sitter. I had a go to in Vancouver when I lived there. I’ll give her a call, see if she knows anyone out here that would work. That sound good?”

“I guess that’s alright,” you said. He raised and eyebrow and you shrugged. “I enjoy our alone time, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to take away from them though.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not saying…” he said before he trailed off and ate the last bites of his food. “I moved us so they could see me everyday which is far more than they ever did when I filmed my show. I will still make them breakfast. I will still put them to bed. I will still have lunch with them and play with them and all of it. They’ll always by my first priority. But a relationship with kids doesn’t always mean the kids are around. Sometimes they come with, sometimes they stay home. I’m not talking about ditching them for days on end. A few hours on a Saturday night, most of which they’ll be in bed asleep is all I’m talking about. We have a right to a little bit of time for ourselves. It’s not as easy with them than it was the first time around but we just have to try harder is all.”

“Okay,” you said. “I’m good with that. How was your first day?”

“Good. We did a lot of promotional stuff. I won’t start acting until next week. I heard you met Antony shopping today.”

“Yeah. I didn’t get a chance to tell you when I got home earlier. He seems like a nice guy.”

“He does. He invited us to dinner once we settle into a routine,” he said. “Apparently you two are shopping buddies now.”

“The man does know how to choose a dress.”

“Good thing I packed my lucky suit up here,” he said. 

“Speaking of suits...you wouldn’t happen to have any of you in your Soldier Boy suit from today?” 

“No spoilers,” he said with a smirk. You jutted out your lip and he rolled his eyes, taking out his phone. He tapped and slid it over to you, your eyes wide. You must have stared for a solid minute before you looked over at him, Jensen leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and a huge grin on his face. “You think I’m hot, don’t you.”

“Pft, no,” you said, biting your bottom lip before you licked it. He was still grinning out of the corner of your eye and you gave him the phone back. “Maybe...you’re kinda hot. But it’s totally the suit. Like right now, ugh, horrendous.”

“Nah, I’m hot,” he said, sticking out his stomach and rubbing it.

“I’m impressed you can actually do that,” you said. 

“Everybody’s got a tummy,” he said. “Seriously though, you think the suit is cool?”

“It looks awesome. I’d love to see it in person,” you said.

“Oh you guys will be on set at some point,” he said. “I’m kinda nervous about next week.”

“Really? Why? You’re a great actor.”

“Have you ever seen a single thing I’ve done,” he chuckled.

“I did in fact see that horror movie on a date years ago. Something with like mining?” you asked. 

“That’s what you saw? Like that movie? I hope the date worked out at least,” he said with a big smirk.

“Actually it was the crappy ex,” you said.

“Oh. You guys must have dated for a long time then.”

“Since we were seventeen,” you said. He stared and you shrugged. “I kept waiting for him to grow up and change. Eventually I realized he never would.”

“Did you love him?”

“I loved the idea of him. I liked him. I was with him for close to 12 years so I obviously liked him. But it wasn’t love. I could never be myself all the way around him and that’s not a way to live. There was none of that feeling when you first meet someone, you know?”

“Would I be pushing to ask if you ever thought about marrying the guy?”

“He did propose actually. A few times,” you said. “I turned him down. Things really went downhill from there though.”

“Why’d you say no?”

“I didn’t want to marry someone that made me feel bad about being me. Got tired of him telling me to get over everything that happened as a kid, dress a certain way, should I really have dessert, that kind of crap.”

“It’s part of who you are. I wouldn’t exactly call your past something to get over,” said Jensen. “Why would he even make you feel bad about it? You’re so normal.”

“I don’t think his daddy hugged him enough,” you said.

“No need to be a dick to other people for it,” he said. You smiled as you finished filling out the rest of the form for the class before sending it off. “Hey on the plus side I did get a good recommendation for daycare today. I was gonna check it out tomorrow morning, maybe get the twins in next week. Apparently they’re also hooked up with a school so JJ can go to school with some other American kids too instead of being stuck behind a screen here all day.”

“That’s great news. She can make some new friends that way. You know I was thinking maybe she could get signed up for indoor soccer. When I played the new season normally started right at the beginning of February.”

“Is it safe?” he asked. “I thought that could get pretty dangerous.”

“Adult leagues can be but kids her age it’s just running back and forth mostly. She could make some new friends, give her something fun to look forward to.”

“It’s not a bad idea. I would like her to be involved in something since she’s out of dance and soccer back home right now. I’ll talk it over with her in the morning,” he said. “She say something to you about it?”

“No. I just know what it’s like to be the new kid,” you said. “Soccer helped me make friends at school.”

“You and your mom move after your dad passed?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was little so I don’t remember so much,” you said, an email coming in that your spot in the class was reserved. “Alright. Looks like I’m all set for eight on Saturday.”

“I’ll try not to keep you out too late on Friday night then,” he said.

“I never said that.”

“I like flirty you,” he said, both of you looking up at the ceiling when you heard a loud pair of giggles. “Duty calls. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[emeren]

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk) 

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise. 

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her. 

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features. 

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.” 

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side. 

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.” 

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him. 

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least. 

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?” 

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.” 

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled. 

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.” 

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.” 

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor. 

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school. 

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race. 

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?” 

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off. 

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name. 

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start. 

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.” 

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes. 

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!” 

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly. 

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...” 

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median. 

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him. 

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!” 

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!” 

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare. 

eren lost? 

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right. 

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.” 

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it. 

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls. 

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends. 

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway. 

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean. 

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head. 

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best. 

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch. 

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.” 

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.” 

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.” 

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her. 

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?” 

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain. 

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in. 

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal. 

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes. 

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment. 

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.” 

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.” 

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.” 

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes. 

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet. 

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap. 

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people. 

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you. 

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed. 

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest. 

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing. 

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.” 

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd. 

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you. 

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you. 

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.” 

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.” 

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.” 

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”  

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.” 

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought. 

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.” 

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.” 

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours. 

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.” 

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?” 

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth. 

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach. 

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away. 

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was. 

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.” 

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit. 

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it. 

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders. 

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot? 

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. 

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin. 

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.” 

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?” 

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.  

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.” 

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement. 

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.” 

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic. 

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back. 

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.” 

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you. 

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts. 

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.” 

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off. 

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts. 

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do. 

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin. 

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat. 

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit. 

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side. 

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.” 

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly. 

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure. 

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt. 

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain. 

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady. 

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good. 

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair. 

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself. 

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold. 

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.” 

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours. 

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant. 

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.” 

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off. 

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water. 

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?” 

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra. 

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze. 

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips. 

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt. 

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape. 

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?” 

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.” 

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep. 

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back. 

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center. 

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself. 

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline. 

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.” 

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless. 

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid. 

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.” 

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking. 

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.” 

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.” 

“yes what?” 

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.” 

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation. 

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body. 

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt. 

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence. 

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.” 

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you. 

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep. 

“night, casanova.” 

<3 <3 <3 

[pillage-and-lute]

The Stars Are Not Wanted Now

Was this among my list of WIPs I posted recently? No. Not at all. Because it popped into my head fully formed and hurt my feelings so I decided to make it everyone’s problem.

TW: Believed character death (not real) ,grief, discussions of hallucinations.

Title cheerfully stolen from W. H. Auden’s Funeral Blues

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

It took Geralt almost an hour to realize what he’d done. He’d sat and stewed and wished his tearducts would give him more catharsis than a handful of small drops. He wanted to sob, really cry, eyes red and face wet, but his body let him down. He stared for a while at the dirt. At the footprints in the dirt.

They weren’t his. They were from Jaskier’s stupid shiny boots. Impractical boots that gave him blisters, but he’d only had enough money for one pair and he needed ‘court boots’ apparently. And he was walking down the mountain in those silly boots and a doublet that wouldn’t keep him warm as the mountain air chilled with night and Geralt had just let him go. Geralt had made him go. He didn’t have any gear, they shared gear and Geralt had made him leave.

Geralt’s slow, witcher heart beat double time as he realized he might have murdered his bard. 

Roach huffed at him for being gone so long but he shushed her and loaded her up as quickly as he could. He needed her, and Jaskier needed him.

Geralt followed the footprints like a bloodhound, eyes and senses searching, but his mind wandered behind. Their relationship was such an odd one, Jaskier always traveling ahead or staying behind. Bards needed audiences and witchers needed wilderness, but they were never more than a few days from eachother, and every town Geralt went into he could be sure Jaskier was there. There had been exceptions of course, when bardic festivals or court appointments swayed Jaskier’s path, but he always came back. It was down to the separate nature of Geralt’s Path, with the capital P, and Jaskier’s path. Bards traveled between towns, straight shots, rarely sleeping rough, so his bard didn’t need gear, and it would only slow him down. Witchers wandered, fighting a monster here, collecting potion ingredients there, and coming to towns only for contracts and coin.

Geralt’s eyes scanned every inch of the track, never missing the boot prints, noting the depth of them, the scent of sadness lingering. A human would have missed the single, red thread caught on a bush, the shade of Jaskier’s stupid, too thin doublet. Geralt’s fingers plucked it from a branch. 

He remembered how, in the first years of their acquaintance, he’d watched the bard walk away each time, believing he’d never see him again. But Jaskier had always come back. He’d circle around or wait in the next tiny village, playing ditties for barmaids and he’d greet Geralt with a smile that struck something sensitive and previously well protected in Geralt’s chest. Slowly Geralt had started expecting Jaskier’s presence and those treasured smiles.

It had come with detriments, that was true, Jaskier talked so much Geralt wondered how he found the air and he was foppish and disinclined to wake before noon. It was just that, so slowly that Geralt didn’t know how it had happened, those faults found favor in Geralt’s eyes. 

And now he’d told Jaskier he was a burden. That he wanted him gone. As Geralt had grown to treasure his bard he’d stopped expecting Jaskier would leave him and started fearing he would instead. Geralt had just been the creator of his own nightmares, doing to their friendship what wind, weather, time, and age could not. 

That was the thing, Geralt thought as his eyes scanned the trail, near invisible in the dark. Age. Jaskier was forty at least. Crow’s feet, Yennefer had said. He would have to leave Geralt sooner or later, settle in some city and see him only if Geralt sought him out. The impending end to their precious routine rolled Geralt’s stomach and took over his thoughts. Now, though, well, how weak was a forty year old human? Strong enough to go down the mountain in the dark? It seemed so, which was frustrating. Geralt was going as fast as he could while tracking Jaskier’s every footstep, but even his magical eyes only saw so much in total darkness. Jaskier was hiking blind. 

A new scent drifted to Geralt’s nose. Wolf. A mixture of fur and wilderness and wet dog. 

And blood. 

Geralt let go of Roach’s reigns, sprinting as best he could, letting his nose lead him. He could smell blood. He followed it into the trees, crashing through the brush, careless of the briars that tore at him. He didn’t even smell his own blood, it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. All his senses narrowed down to the smell of Jaskier’s blood and...

and his eyes saw red. a torn doublet,

Geralt lurched forward, hoping, praying that it didn’t mean what he knew it meant. He clutched the rags to him and he stumbled. His foot hit something. 

A boot. A stupid, shiny boot and it reeked of blood. Geralt let it fall from numb fingers. A tiny beam of moonlight struggled down, gleaming dully off of leather. Geralt knelt before the instrument case, smelling blood on the strap, feeling the contours of it. When he lifted it it was heavy. Jaskier had died alone on a vicious mountainside, devoid of his beautiful doublet and his lute. 

Geralt felt a puff of breath on the back of his head. Roach had followed after him, picking her way through the forest in the wake of his mad dash. He pressed his face into her mane and finally felt tears flood his cheeks. She settled beside him when he no longer had enough water to cry and he just stayed there, knelt between tree roots and bushes, cradling the lute and a scrap of doublet that still smelled like chamomile. 

He didn’t move until dawn.

When the runny light of morning came Geralt just moved on. Whatever had happened to Jaskier’s body, he couldn’t see it. Of course the bard deserved a proper burial, and Geralt cursed his weakness all the way down the mountain, but there mightn’t be much of Jaskier left to find. Geralt felt sure that if he saw his friend like that he’d simply lay down next to him and die too. 

He already felt like he might. 

Geralt moved on, physically. He moved around, slinging Jaskier’s lute up with his saddlebags. He wandered between towns and fought monsters, going north in a roundabout way. Going home. 

Kaer Morhen was going to be cold that year, it always was, and Jaskier was never there, but without the hope of Jaskier’s smile in the spring the cold seemed to have taken residence in his soul.

Geralt wasn’t eating well. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than chew a few pieces of dried meat. He drank a lot and didn’t sleep and took too many risks when fighting monsters. It was foolish, he knew, it was how witchers died, getting sloppy like that. He did it anyway. And on the rare nights he did sleep, he clutched the tattered piece of doublet. The chamomile scent was slowly fading and Geralt feared when it left entirely. It and the doublet were all he had.

In light of all of this, Geralt wasn’t that surprised when he finally lost it. He heard music in a tavern and it sounded like Jaskier. Every bard sounded like Jaskier now. There were no instruments, just an achingly familiar voice. Of course, Geralt still had the lute. 

When he walked into the tavern and saw a bard turn, saw Jaskier smile wide at him, Geralt didn’t even flinch. His medallion was still on his chest. This was no ghost, he had simply lost his mind. 

Geralt sat at the bar without looking away from the apparition, and his heart swelled as it sauntered towards him. Jaskier looked so lifelike, so alive. There wasn’t a scratch on him. He was exactly the bard Geralt remebered, no crows feet to be seen. He was dressed in blue, not unlike when they had first met. Geralt’s heart twisted as he remebered all things he’d said, and, even worse, the things he hadn’t. His heart was thundering in his ears, blood rushing, everything else tuned out. It didn’t matter that Geralt had gone crazy, Jaskier was here and so beautiful and Geralt loved him so much that it hurt. 

“Mind if I join you?” The hallucination said. Geralt just stared. He wasn’t going to talk to it, there were enough rumors about witchers without the townsfolk knowing he was crazy.

“C’mon, now, Geralt,” the faux Jaskier said. “You wouldn’t keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.” 

Geralt just stared as the bard pulled a half-eaten roll from his pocket and winked. The hallucination stopped smiling, shoulders slumping. “I’ll go,” it said. 

“Stay,” Geralt whipsered immediately. He was alright with going crazy because this last bit of comfort was so tantalizing, so real Geralt could almost reach out and touch. “Please,” he said, even quieter. “I’m sorry.” 

Jaskier beamed and sat and ate and Geralt wondered idly who the bartender served in place of the man he knew couldn’t be there. 

Geralt had thought the hallucination would be gone in the morning, but the vision of Jaskier was standing by Roach the next day, a travel bag over one shoulder. Okay, Geralt’s brain was in it for the long haul. Fine, but there had to be rules. That momentary weakness last night couldn’t happen again. He needed to get to Kaer Morhen soon if he wanted to beat the snows and there could be no distractions. So, no talking to the bard.

It was very hard not to talk to the hallucination. It traipsed and danced and prodded and teased, but when it got not even a hum in response the exhuberance dimmed. That was horrible. Geralt didn’t need the reminder that he’d hurt Jaskier’s feelings, he’d already killed him. The proof was walking right beside him.

Something in Geralt felt healed, though. It was why he didn’t try to fix this. Having Jaskier, even if it wasn’t real, was nice. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and kissed the bard. It was his hallucination after all. The thought, though, that he would reach out to Jaskier, who looked so real and alive, and feel nothing but air....Geralt would rather go through the trials again. It would be like losing Jaskier all over. 

One night, when the hallucination reached out for the instrument strung on Roach’s saddle Geralt tensed. Some part of him believed that if this shade of Jaskier was reunited with his beloved lute he’d go, dissappear and leave Geralt all alone again. He didn’t, of course. This wasn’t a spirit, Jaskier wasn’t tied to this realm by the lute. He was a figment of Geralt’s tortured mind. 

He played Toss a Coin and Her Sweet Kiss. As far as Geralt knew, Jaskier hadn’t finished the latter, but his imagination finished it anyway. It hurt to hear Jaskier singing about love unrequited, it was obviously about Yennefer but that...that wasn’t Geralt’s love. Geralt’s love had be eaten by a mountain. Red sky at dawning, Geralt had had enough of red. It didn’t put him in mind of Yennefer’s lips or of rubies or harpies or anything else, but Jaskier’s doublet, the scrap still hidden in Geralt’s bags, and some words. “See you around, Geralt”

The apparition continued to play, but Geralt turned his face away. Maybe this was torturing him for killing his only blessing. 

At the crossroads of the northern mountains Geralt paused. He had been walking besde Roach, resting her for the trek up the Killer, with Jaskier’s lute across the saddlebags and his hallucination trailing along behind. This was where Jaskier always parted from him in the autumn, and the hallucination stepped forward, reaching toward the lute on Roach’s back. Geralt felt ice down his spine. 

His hallucination was going to leave, of course it was, Geralt had never brought Jaskier to the keep, but to be there all winter without this small, fake comfort would kill him.  

Geralt wrapped his hand around the lute strap, ready to pull it from the nonexistant fingers of his dead companion. “No,” he said. 

He slung the lute over his shoulder and walked toward the Killer, praying that his failing mind wouldn’t choose now to become sane. To his relief, the hallucination followed. 

On the way to the keep the vision changed into a warmer cloak and gloves and Geralt marveled at the detail. He wondered if he wasn’t dead himself, or asleep and simply dreaming, but he kept going up the trail, hearing the crunch of Jaskier’s shiny boots on frost. The vision talked and Geralt loved its voice and cursed the sound.

Night was falling when they reached the gate of the keep, and Geralt could see three lit lanterns, one for each brother and another for Vesemir. He paused, watching the lights come closer. He drew a breath, in through his nose, smelling pine and chamomile, out through his mouth. He couldn’t let the others know. He had to pretend that the ghost of all his regrets wasn’t doggin his steps. He flexed his fingers on the strap of the lute. 

“Don’t just stand there, idiot, get in here, it’s cold,” Lambert called. Eskel smiled at Geralt and took Roach’s reigns, cooing to her as Geralt followed Vesemir and Lambert into the hall. 

The fire was lit and warmth seeped into Geralt’s numb fingers and toes. Vesemir raised an eyebrow at him.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your guest?”

“What?”

“Vesemir shook his head. “Gods almighty, Geralt, I didn’t raise you boys with much manners but I thought you had some.” Then Vesemir turned to where the vision of Jaskier stood. “You Geralt’s bard?” he asked.

“There’s no one there, Ves,” Geralt hazarded. 

Vesemir scowled at him. “Stupid prank to play on your old teacher. Never get an apprentice, lad, they’ll take your sanity and all your time.” That last part wasn’t aimed at Geralt. It was like someone had poured fire into Geralt’s veins.

“You can see him too?” he asked, quietly. 

“What game are you--” Vesemir began, but Jaskier’s eyes had gone soft with understanding.

“Oh, Geralt,” he whispered. 

Geralt stretched out one shaking hand and caressed his bard’s chilly cheek. Jaskier leaned his face into it and brushed a kiss against the palm. “I’m so sorry, dear heart,” he said, stepping closer to Geralt and wrapping his arms around his neck. “I should have known something was off.”

“You were dead,” Geralt said into the crook of his neck. “There was blood and your doublet was shredded, and you left your lute behind.” 

“You truly thought...all this time? Geralt, I thought you knew,” Jaskier said, warm breath brushing Geralt’s ear. To his surprise, Geralt was crying, tiny, bare tears and shoulders shaking. 

“Knew you were alive?”

“That too, but dearest, I’m a changeling, on the mountain I...I was so sad I just wanted to run away, and I was so tired, so I became a wolf.”

“Changeling...you’re fae?”

“Only half,” Jaskier said. “Or less, I’m not sure, but I can change into all the animal of the forest.”

“You never have.”

“It’s a painful feeling and you can’t play a lute with wings or paws but I was overwhelmed so I just...oh darling I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think--”

“I smelled blood.”

“My boots, you told me to buy the practical ones, but I didn’t listen.”

Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s and felt the warmth of him. “You’re alive,” he said. “You’re real and you’re alive.”

“You thought all this time I was a ghost?”

“A hallucination,” Geralt said. “A good dream, or torture for killing my...”

“Killing your what, darling?” 

“Killing my love. Letting my greatest blessing be taken from my hands. I thought it was penance, my love.”

Jaskier leaned in and kissed Geralt softly. His lips were soft and perfect and too chapped to be a dream. His breath tasted like the jerky they’d eaten on the trail and it was real. When he pulled away Geralt leaned back in and kissed him again. 

“Nothing I said on the mountain was true,” he mumbled against dry lips. “Not a word. I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier said. “And I won’t leave again, not even if you tell me to.”

“I won’t,” Geralt said. “Never again.”

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 6

The eve of race day. You had woken up early as planned. Zemo would be here soon to pick you up. You had packed a little case for the weekend, but you had spent the entire in nervous excitement.

You would be staying with Zemo. At his place. Just the two of you.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Zemo: I'm outside.

You grab your bag and head outside, locking up behind you. Not at all surprised to find another car of his waiting for you. He was leaning against the hood of the car.

You smile as you approach him.

"Miss me?" You asked, teasing him.

"Every day since I left."

You laugh softly, but you could tell he meant his reply. Your poor heart was going crazy.

Zemo takes your bag and puts it safely in the car. You climb in while he does. Once he's in, you settle for the long drive down to the track. The radio plays quietly in the background.

"You can sleep if you like, I promise there won't be any speed racing along the way," he chuckles.

You smile as you get as comfortable as you can in a car. "I think I'll do that, an hour or so."

You're didn't even make an hour before you woke up, but a lot of distance had been covered. Zemo smiles at you as you shift in your seat, waking up fully.

"Coffee?"

You glance down to see two take out cups, steam still rising from them, slotted between you in cup holders. You smile as you take one.

"Thanks. You stopped for coffee?"

"The least I could do for coming to get you so early," he smiles sweetly. "I can pull over at the next stop if you're hungry, but we won't be on the road for too much longer now."

"I'll wait then. Thanks." You open the cup and inhale that delicious scent. A beautiful way to wake up.

Conversation is kept causal for the rest if the trip. Soon Zemo pulls up at a nice house. He wasn't kidding when he said it was bigger than your little apartment.

You climb out of the car and look up at it.

"This is nice."

"Thank you. It's just one of my houses." He comes to stand beside you. You eye him in slight suspicion.

"One of your houses? How many houses do you have?"

"Several. Most of them in Europe."

You continue to look at him with suspicion.

"I figured you had money because of all the cars, but I'm thinking there's more to it than that."

He gives a cheeky grin as he walks up to the front door.

"Perhaps."

Who is this man?

You follow him to the door and then enter as he opens it for you. The inside is super nice. Doesn't exactly looked lived in, but you can tell it's his place.

"Now this suits you," you say, looking around the room.

"Does it? You fit in quite nicely too."

You smile as you make yourself comfortable. Zemo drops your bag by the door and comes over to sit with you.

"I have something I want to ask you. I don't need an answer right away, but I want to ask you now."

"Why is it?" You turn tour body so you're giving him your full attention.

"I have been debating this for days, but what you say if I asked you to work for me?"

Your gaze flickers between his eyes, your brain trying to catch up with what he just said. Work for him? Like... work for him? What would you even do?

"You do realise I'm no mechanic. I make coffee for a living."

"I'm aware."

"What can I possibly do for you?"

"Assist me? Manage me?" He sat their smirking at you.

"Manage you? I don't know what in doing most of the time, and you want me to manage you? Don't you have a manager?"

"Myself."

"You can do that?"

"I can," he chuckles. "If you worked with me, you could be at every race. I would get to see you every day."

"You are honest to God serious?"

"I am."

You gaze down at your lap in thought. He was actually offering you a job. You would have so much to look up before hand, but what if you took it?

You look up to see him looking at you.

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask for," he says, smiling. He gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you breakfast.

You're already pulling out your phone, researching what you may need to help him.

It would be pretty cool to tell people you were the manager of Helmut Zemo. Certainly more exciting than the barista who makes nice coffee.

You eat, Zemo shows you the room he had made up for you, and then you both head out to see the car. You spend all day watching him go up and down the airstrip, beating his own record.

He was ready for tomorrow.

Race day. You're both up early. Zemo talks you through the day and what he has prepared for you. You're on the list for his crew, so you'll have access to the areas he team do. You still get to watch from his stand.

Of course, you arrived together. He parks up and you walk into the stadium. You're keeping your eye out. Zemo knows what for.

It's not until you're outside waiting for Zemo to change when you see them. Stark has arrived, in his gear, your friend under his arm as they wave at the crowds. All cameras on them.

He did it. He made it public.

Your friend was smiling away and waving at people, kissing his jaw and placing her hand on his chest.

Despite the display, it didn't seem real to you. She couldn't see it, but you could.

A hand is placed in your shoulder. You look up to see Zemo standing beside you. His eyes are on you, but you know he saw them.

"She may not forgive me, but I will not forgive him for breaking her heart when the time comes."

Zemo says nothing and nods once.

You turn your eyes away from the 'happy couple' and look at the car. It looked all shiny and new.

"You've got this today," you say, turning to smile at him.

"I know," he replies with a cocky smile.

You find yourself teaching for his hand and smiling softly at him. His fingers curl around yours.

"I'll be right here when you cross that finish line," you tell him.

"And then drinks."

"Ah yes, our date. How can I forget?"

"I have one more request before I go out there."

"Oh?"

Zemo brings you entwined hands to his lips and kisses yours softly.

"Call me Helmut. I want to hear you say my name at least once."

You smile.

"Alright. Then, this is for you, Helmut." You lean in and press a firm kiss to his cheek, caressing the other one with your free hand.

He smiles.

The way you say his name sets alight all those feelings be bad been trying to contain.

You pull away.

"You better go."

You can hear the racers being called to the starting line. He squeezes your hand and reluctantly lets go. You pick up his helmet and give it to him. Once it's on, he climbs into the car and you watch as he follows the other drivers. You quickly climb over the barricade to the stands and watch from up there, wanting to see his car for as long as you could.

You hadn't noticed the way your friend had been looking at you from across the way.

You stand on edge. You had this really good gut feeling in your stomach. Something was telling you this was going to be the day.

The lights change. The engines rev. You close your eyes to listen to the sound. It's the greatest sound in the world. The flag waves, tyres spin. They're off.

You don't even realise you're holding your breath.

The cars are out of sight so quickly, you then your gaze to the screen. Right there in front of you is Stark and Zemo.

They move in perfect sync around the track, not once colliding with the other. It's almost as if they're playing a careful game. Your poor lip will be so sore from your nervous nibbles.

Stark takes the lead for quite some time, but Zemo is right there behind him.

"Please. Please." You're whispering to yourself. You have fingers crossed, you're unable to stand still as you watch, you're pleading with whoever is listening.

The last leg of the race is approaching.

The standard across from you cheer loudly. That's Stark's lot.

You're beginning to doubt that feeling you had.

It all happens so quickly.

Just as you blink, that purple beauty of a car pulls ahead. It's as if it had been saving it's energy for the last hurdle. You gasp sharply as he pulls so far ahead, even Stark is confused. You're not sure if you dreamt it or it as that car speeds across the finish line.

You can't contain how happy you are. You run from the stands, jump the barricade and run as fast as your feet will take you. By the time you get down to the arena, all cars have crossed the line. No casualties on this day.

Zemo is out of his car, helmet taken from him by one of the others. He sees you coming and opens his arms. You're off your feet as soon as your arms around him. He's laughing in your ear.

"You did it! You did it!" You're laughing, smiling, cheering.

He puts you down, but he doesn't let go. You hold onto him tightly. People gather to take photos or to try and interview him, but neither of you care.

You pull back enough to look at him.

He kisses you.

Right there in front of everyone. Cameras are flashing, people are shouting his name.

No one else matters.

You smile against his lips.

You only let go when you have to. He gets taken off for his award, but you're not far behind. You're so proud of him.

Stark looks at him from the second place podium. Your friend on the other side from where you stand.

She doesn't look happy.

Once the formalities are over, Zemo returns to you and puts his arm around your shoudler. You're both smiling like fools as you walk back.

He beat Stark. He did it.

And he kissed you!

You're over the moon. This could honestly be pinned as the best day of your life.

It's not until you're out of sight from the press when he pins you up against the wall and claims your lips again. You melt against him, letting him kiss you over and over.

Neither of you were even bothered about the race anymore. He just wanted you.

You part, but only slightly.

"Zemo-"

"No."

"Helmut," you chuckle, "I'm accepting the job offer."

"That didn't take much convincing," he teases.

You roll your eyes and pull him back to you, kissing him again.

Meanwhile, in Stark's locker, your friend was going crazy. She was looking at her phone which was blowing up with images of you and Zemo kissing.

Today was suppose to be the day she could proudly go public about her and Stark, but even that had been stolen from them.

Tony looked at her from across the room.

"Let me tell you something interesting," he said, not all sounding affected by his loss today.

She goes over to hear what he has to say.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle