#me kicking my feet and resting my chin in my hands looping his lines over and over again

[frecklystars]

This is barely 10 minutes into the movie. Lars was scared because he thought something dangerous was happening with Karin's pregnancy. We don't find out until a few minutes later that Lars' mother died while giving birth to him. Going back and rewatching this scene really adds to just how devastated Lars was when he thought Karin was in danger

[courtingchaos]

Collared

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Freak Like Me

A/N: Just take this. I looked at it for too long and I hate it now. Also, this is for every emo from the early 2000’s who ironically wore a collar in high school and did some real damage to their future selves, aka You Gave Yourself a Kink You Big Idiot.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

You stare into the box of childhood knickknacks at your feet and Eddie leans out of the closet to see what you’ve found. It dangles off of your index finger and your eyebrows raise high on your forehead.

“I had no idea you were into this.”

“Oh shut up, I wore it high school a few times.” He waves a hand at you to dismiss your grin.

“A leather collar?”

“I stole it from the mall.”

“Oh I bet you did.” You spin the black collar around your finger, metal o-ring attached to the front clinking on every go around. “What, from Hot Topic?”

“No, an actual sex shop. Jeff dared me to and then I thought it’d be funny if I put it on myself.” Eddie shrugs and tosses another handful of clothes behind him. “Some kind of stupid message about ‘being my own animal’.” He rolls his eyes and laughs at himself. “God I was real fuckin’ dumb.”

“No, just a kid.”

“I was 19.”

Your lips disappear between your teeth to stifle your laugh and Eddie rolls his wrist at you, telling you to get it over with. Your laugh follows him back into the closet where he also starts giggling at his past fashion choices.

He can hear you playing with it from the bathroom, the soft clinking muffled by the bed sheets. “Having fun with that?”

“Do you think it still fits?”

He spits in the sink and rinses off his toothbrush with a sigh. “Maybe? Why, wanna put me on a leash?”

Your silence is deafening.

“You do, don’t you?” He slowly walks down the short hallway separating the bathroom from the bedroom and leans on the corner of the wall, a slow rise of his hand to point at you accusingly. “Pervert.” He whispers at you through a wide grin.

“Like you’ve never thought about it.” You try it around your own neck for show and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. When you gesture it at him he pretends to be offended and turns on the dramatics.

“You just want to control me, just like The Man!” He hops on the bed and climbs up your legs to hover over you. “Well go on then.” He rests his weight on one hand and pulls his hair up in his fists. “Collar me if you must.” His head hangs while you giggle at his antics. Your fingers are light on his neck while you loop the scratchy leather around and he’s reminded why he stopped wearing it after a few weeks. You do up the small buckle on the back and run two fingers along the inside to make sure it isn’t choking him.

“Good fit?” He says down at your knees that pull together briefly. Those same two fingers lift his chin gently past your eye line so you can look at his neck.

“You look very handsome.”

Eddie pushes your hand away so he can lean in for a kiss. The soft clinking around his neck sounds funny in the quiet of your bedroom but he ignores it, right up until you give it a tug when he tries to sit up.

“Where are you goin’?” You ask against the kiss, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip. You follow him back until he has to kick his legs out from under him and then you’re pressing him against the comforter. You don’t break the kiss even when he laughs at you pulling at his shirt or when he tries to ask you what you’re doing. When the cotton gets bunched up under his chin you huff and pull back and he yanks the thin t-shirt off.

It doesn’t take long to loose the sleep clothes you both just put on, warm skin soft against each other when you straddle his thighs.

“This just gives me something to hang on to.” You use the metal ring as slight leverage when you scoot up to sit against his already hard cock. “Keep you right underneath me.”

“Oh?” He shifts his hips to try and get you to move but you just keep smiling at him.

“I think I’d like you in this more often actually.” A quick peck that he’s trying to chase until you pull on the ring again. “How’d you feel about that?”

“I feel great about that but I’d feel even better if you’d slide back just a bit-“

You were already reaching down to help guide him in, a long ‘oh’ pushing out of his chest when you sit back on his hips.

“Like that?” One quick lift just to land back against him, his eyes closing momentarily.

“Yeah, you like that.” You flex around him and rock lightly enjoying the slight friction you get against your growing ache. He lets his hands fall over his head, leaving you free to roam his torso and pull at the collar. It rubs the back of his neck a little wrong but there’s a twitch of your lips every time he lets out a breathy moan that he doesn’t want going away. Wet kisses fall on his chest and over his collarbones, teeth following to nip at the thin skin along the collar.

Everything you’re doing is in slow motion from the drag of your mouth to the random lifting of your hips. He’s stuck under you, frustrated at your speed but trying to revel in the wet drag of your cunt.

“You should let me be in charge more often.”

“Oh?” It comes out breathier than he intended.

“I think you like it.” Slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. “Just getting to lay there and look pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“Yeah, got a problem with that?”

The rhythmic tugging on the back of his neck when you rock back has him feeling fuzzy, thoughts a little slow and words even slower.

“No.” He sounds tipsy and you grin at him, a groan pushing through your heavy breaths. His hands wander from your hips to your thighs, thick fingers digging into the soft meat of your ass when you pulse around him. Your head falls back as you grind down and catch your clit on the coarse hair just above his cock, a slow spread of warmth creeping up your hips.

“Doing so good for me.” You shudder and roll inward, grip tightening on the ring. “Letting me use you like this.” A smile that turns into a pleasured frown just as your hips start to loose their slow rhythm and Eddie takes his chance.

He needs control, can’t take your slow bouncing and you’re cooing down at him anymore. He grabs you under your thighs and rolls you quick so he can press your knees up almost into your chest. Your surprise is caught in your throat when he lays into you and sets a fast pace, fingers digging into the backs of your knees.

“Oh fuck-“

“Takin’ too long.” He pants. The feeling of the leather against his neck starting to annoy him and he growls at you. “Take it off.”

“No, I like it.” Quickly defiant your hand snakes up between your chests and rehooks on the o-ring, yanking his face closer to yours. His thrusts stutter as your eyes flick between his.

“Be a good boy.”

He pauses for a second, eyes unfocused when he looks down at you. He nods slowly and you mimic him, a smile growing wide on your face. “You like that too?”

“Uh huh.” It’s all breath while he stares at you. You pull again, slight but determined and his hands slip from your slick knees to the mattress.

“You gonna be good Eddie?”

His eyes roll in his skull and he keeps nodding, hips picking up pace against your ass. “So good.”

“Yeah?”

He knows he’s hitting deep when your voice catches on your question and your knees draw up against his sweaty chest. Your fingers tighten around the ring and your mouth hangs open on a gasp.

“You gonna make me cum?” Your other hand is already wedged between you to rub fast circles on your clit and you clench down on his cock, one ripple after another when you hit your stride. He’d like to, really he would, but if you keep this up he isn’t going to last, not with you pulling him around by his neck and holding him deep inside.

“Oh fuckfuckfuck.” A particularly deep roll of his hips has him loosing rhythm that turns into full on rutting and your breath in his ear. You stutter against his cheek and pull him down into your neck, you’re repeated ‘right there!’ making him forget everything but making you feel good. A high whine is his only warning before you tense up and draw his face down into your neck, the constant fluttering of your cunt pushing him into oblivion.

He drops his weight on you, pinning your legs between you two and his open mouth turns to love bites along your juglar while you both ride out your highs. His heavy breaths over your spit slick skin sends a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, another hit against your ebbing orgasm.

“I think,” he reaches up behind his head to undo the collar “if we’re gonna get into this kind of thing, I should invest in something that isn’t almost 20 years old.” There’s a raw spot where the rough edge of the leather scraped against his skin. “I deserve something soft, don’t you think?” He places a kiss on the top of your breast and you laugh lightly. Your hands grasp at the back of his neck to sooth, fingers inching up into his hair to scratch, and he starts to melt into you.

“I do.” You’re still doing that voice that drove him crazy earlier and he entertains another round before you deal your mind melting blow. “Good boys deserve very nice things.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family

I’m Home

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request ^^

Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.

There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.

Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.

“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.

“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.

“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.

“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.

“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.

“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”

“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.

“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”

“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.

The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.

“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”

“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”

“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”

“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”

“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.

“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.

“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.

“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,

“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.

But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”

As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”

To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.

“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”

“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”

“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”

Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.

“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.

The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.

“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”

Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.

Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.

Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.

They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.

“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.

“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.

“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”

“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”

“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”

“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.

“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“

“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.

“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[chattahoochiecoochie]

Before I Go

Summary: Mick and his girlfriend get into it before he leaves for race week. 

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: aggressive male, dirty talk

Authors Notes: I was bored. Uninspired. Looking to make trouble. Thus, I wrote this little number. Not the best. Not the worst. More to follow. The rest of my Mick stuff can be found here.

“How much longer?” Georgia looked up from her place on the couch, tucked behind a stack of pillows she’d been picking at for the last half hour. The photo shoot was supposed to take a while, he’d told her that much, but he hadn’t specified.

“Just a few more, I’m going to change my team polo, and then that's it I think.” He looked at his watch, avoiding her eyes entirely. She watched closely as he took off his race boots, tossing them into the corner with a grunt.  

“I’m bored.” Georgia kicked her feet off the couch, sending the stack of pillows flying to the floor. Mick looked back, letting out a rough sigh before turning his back to her once more.

“I know, my love.”

“I didn’t think it would take this long.” She stood up, ignoring the way he had begun to rub at his jaw, tension visible even from where she was standing behind him.

“I know. Help me get this off.” He tilted slightly, gesturing to the collar of his racing suit.

Georgia touched the collar gently, playing over a set of scenarios in her head. A shiver ran down her spine as one in particular began to stand out, playing on a sped up loop through her mind. She pulled hard at the velcro, taking the quilted fabric in her fists, tugging hard to pull the suit apart at the chest.

“I didn’ realize I’d be stuck in ‘ere all day, all on my own.” It was a weak grasp at subtlety, but she tried to drag out the natural drawl in her voice, letting her voice hang on to every word. Slowly, she stuck her hands under the vest of the suit, placing her palms over his stomach. The corded muscle of his abdomen was practically visible through the tight fitting shirt, it didn’t take much to find a groove to run her fingers across.

Unaware, or uninterested, Mick shrugged off the top of his suit, moving away so he could step out of the rest of it properly. Ignoring her still, he took a shirt off its hanger and shrugged out of the tight fitting Nomex tee. Dipping out of her line of sight he grabbed a pair of athletic shorts from where they lay on the floor and slipped them on, barely peeking at her as he stood up straight.

“You promised—”

“Promised what, my love?” Mick looked up at her, his eyes dark, exhaustion clear in his gaze.

“That you’d spend time with me, before leavin’. I ain’t hardly seen you today.” She knelt to the ground, picking up the suit he’d discarded. Realization hit her quickly, she’d ignored the dip in his mood and now instead of fun, her fussing might be getting her into trouble, and not the kind she wanted to be in.

Picking herself up, she stood slowly, unprepared as she lifted her head. Mick put a hand out quickly, taking her chin in his grasp, the pads of his fingers digging into her skin. It was rougher than she could ever remember him being, she trembled.

“Patience, schatzi. I’m tired too, but it’s almost over.” His lips curled into a faint smile, he didn’t use that pet name unless he had something specific in mind. There was hope she’d still get what she came down to Dallas for.

“I’ll do all the work, baby, I know you’re tired. I’ve jus’ been lonely in here.” Her eyes were wide, her face serious. She’d do anything for him, anything to get something before he left her for race week.

Her boyfriend held her face tightly in his hand, his grip firm as he scanned her face to gauge the weight of her response. “Yeah? Are you going to take care of me when I’m done? You want to take care of me tonight?”

Georgia let her hands roam, reaching out to touch him once more, letting her fingers dip beneath his waistband. She nodded, looking up through her lashes, a smirk threatening to slip onto her lips.

“Anythin’ you want baby, anythin’.” It was practically a purr, her voice impossibly low as she whispered to him. Mick shuddered against her hand, bucking his hips as she put a palm over his cock.

“I want you—”

There was a sharp knock at the door. “Almost done? We’re ready for you.” The sound of Haas’s media woman, Kelly, came through the door, her voice muffled by the wood.

Mick coughed, gagging on his own tongue as he tried to speak. “Tying my shoes, I’ll be right out.”

Georgia giggled, trying to hold back laughter as he shrugged, smirking at the lie he’d come up with. The moment subsided quickly, humor dissolving into seriousness rapidly as they both thought back to what he’d been trying to say seconds earlier.

Taking hold of her face once more, this time in a much more deceivingly gentle way, he pressed a shallow kiss to her mouth, letting his tongue slide across her bottom lip before pulling away. With his mouth inches from her own, his breath hot on her cheek, Georgia could feel him starting to grin, a sly boyish smile slipping onto his face.

“I want you,” His voice hard over the repeated words, “to choke on my fucking cock before I leave for a week without you. Need something to remember that pretty little mouth by, don’t I, my love?”

“Anythin’ for you, baby.”

“That's a good girl. I'll be back soon, my love.” He moved away from her, scooping a pair of sneakers off the floor as he made for the door.

“Hurry up this time!” Georgia whined, a familiar warmth seeping through her body as she watched him pull open the door and disappear behind it. She could use the time she’d have in here alone to get rid of that feeling, or she could be good, and wait. He’ll like it better if I wait.

If you want me to finish this let me know, I was low on inspo at the start but I’ll muster what I can for a part two if anyone’s interested. 

[smallraindrops-blog]

Hi, just a heads up my ask is kinda specific and I apologize in advance. Could you do Hypnos x male reader, but the reader is the adopted son of Achilles and Patroclus. He’s usually dazed thinking about when he was alive and dwells on what happened when he was. Hypnos gets really excited when Hades sends for Thanatos to go get him from Elysium (currently stays in elysium with Patroclus) cause that means he gets to see him and watch him train. If you want to reject this, that’s okay, I get it.

Hey anon, sorry for the long wait and no worries about the specification. I actually found it kinda helpful. I just hope i got close to what you were looking for!

Wake me from this dreaming

Word count: 3.8

Hypnos x male! reader

Warning: violence, no kissing, some sexual/romance tension, flashback to death and war. No beta.

Just as quick extra note, this is not how real life ptsd works and any fighting advice is just off of Google, please understand that every thing is fictional.

It was the screaming that you remembered the most.

Achilles hunched over Patroclus' body, broken and bloodied. Screaming an inhuman sound that echoed in your head.

You knew you would carry that sound with you beyond your dying breath.

You should be screaming too you think but all you can do is tightened the hold on your spear.

Someone had to pay.

~~

You thought Elysium was beautiful. Or at least you did whenever you were able to force yourself out of the memories long enough.

Patroclus' voice was usually enough to pull you out. You blinked down at him, "Forgive me, Pa. I didn't hear you."

He waved a hand to the shade that stood before you, their spear at ready. "Another fool seeking glory."

You looked toward the warrior, "I guess I can't ask you to come back another time, can I?"

You stepped forward and Patroclus called out, "Mind your footwork. You were sloppy last time."

Countless Shades had seeked you out for the chance to earn the glory of beating the son of Achilles and Patroclus.

You slammed the bottom of the spear into the ground and walked to the shade without any weapons.

You smirked slightly at the nervous look the shade gave you.

And this fool before you was another thing to take down. And just like all the ones before them, it took a single hit.

You watched dispassionately as the shade fell apart before your eyes. But for a few moments you didn't see the shade but of the every soul you took laid before your vision. And the roaring of a crowd in your ears. You looked down at your fist and you could have sworn you saw it covered in blood.

"Y/n. Y/n." A hand touched your shoulder and you jerked around only to have your wrist caught by Patroclus.

You blinked, before you remembered exactly where you were. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Silence." Patroclus said gently. "Even after all this time?"

You didn't say anything for a moment. "Not all of it." You told him.

Just the worst of it.

Patroclus frowned and looked like he was about to say something when black smoke appeared.

You stared at the god that floated before you.

"Lord Hades had sent for you, Y/N." The god told you. You tried to remember what his name was.

"Why?" You asked.

The god gave you a disapproving glare. Thanatos, you suddenly remembered. You have seen him before...

"Do you need to know why Lord Hades sent for you?"

"Y/N, the god asked you a question." Patroclus shook you carefully. You blinked and pushed the call of the past away.

"A reason would be nice, yes."

"He wishes to speak to you. That is all the reasons you need."

You looked toward Patroclus, "Are you okay with me going?"

"Go. Tell Achilles I expect an explanation soon."

And with that you nodded, "Very well. Take me to Lord Hades."

~~

You weren't sure what to make of the house as Thanatos led you through a hallway. It felt like You were inside a living thing but none of the walls or floors moved.

What you did notice though was another god following behind you just down the end of the hallway. You turned your head around and saw a head full of white curls peeked around the corner, you couldn't quite see their face. A hand stuck out to waved excitedly at you.

You stared, not quite sure what make of the strange being or day you were having.

Thanatos snapped,"Hypnos, I know you have work to do. Leave now."

Hypnos ducked away, only to peek around again after a few seconds.

What an odd creature.

Thanatos opened the wide double door, "This is Lord Hades' private study so mind your manners." He warned as the door closed behind you.

You walked forward to the looming desk in the dark room. It looked just the one you passed with a long line of shades awaiting for Hades to appear.

Achilles stood before it and you could feel his rage coming off of him. When you saw him this angry when you both were alive, it usually meant some people were going to lose their heads. It was a rare sight now to see him almost shaking in rage.

It was all the warning you needed.

Hades looked up from your father and smiled.

It wasn't a kind one.

"Lord Hades, thank you for welcoming me to your home." You glanced over to Achilles, "Father."

You hoped he heard the unspoken words. His blue eyes met your and you almost frowned at the guilt you saw there.

"Now, Achilles, will you explain the situation to your son or shall I?" Hades asked, sounding pleased with himself.

You kept your face blank, not giving away the worries you felt. Achilles took a deep breath before turning to you.

"Lord Hades wants us to make a decision. To keep Patroclus in Elysium, I will be 'retiring' and you will have my current job."

"Or?" You asked. Achilles's mouth tightens, "Or Patroclus will be kicked out of Elysium along with you, and I will not be allowed again to have any contact."

So no decisions, just threats. What did Achilles do to make Lord Hades change the deal?

You looked at Achilles then to Lord Hades. "It would be an honor to serve the house, Lord Hades but may I make a request?"

"Oh? What request is that?" Hades glowered at you but you kept your blank face even if you wanted to personally slam your spear between his eyes.

"My father, Achilles will have his retirement in Elysium along with my other father, Patroclus." You paused, "And the retirement is permanent."

Achilles whipped his head and hissed, "Lad, what do you think you're doing? That was already part of the deal, don't waste it."

"Done." Hades said, "lucky for you, Achilles. Y/N is more like Patroclus, he is able to actually think ahead. You didn't even ask where I was sending you for your retirement. You are both dismissed."

Achilles opened his mouth to argue but you placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He glared at you but kept his mouth shut.

"Of course, thank you, lord Hades." You tugged your father to follow you out. As you followed your father down the hallways, you looked over to him.

"Pa is going to be furious." You told him mildly. Achilles just groaned.

~~

You met Hypnos, the odd little creature that followed you around, on the first day of your duty. Even if the first hour was Hypnos just peeking around the corner.

"I've heard of you, even all the way down here." Hypnos told you when he finally found his courage. He was floating but you see the excitement in his body, if he was on his feets, he would be rocking on his heels.

With his curls and his big golden eyes, he reminded you of those too pretty boys that rich politicians would bring along to watch fights while leaving the wives at home.

He leaned forward, his hand resting under his chin. His golden eyes watching your face with a curious look.

"Y/N, the Greek hero who took out monsters in a single strike, was able to hold off Ares and is the son of Achilles and Patroclus. Both great warriors in their own right." He smiled. "Is it true by the way?"

For a moment, all you saw was Ares' mad eyes staring down at you and the taste of blood in your mouth. Everything else had faded away, the sand and screaming of dying men echoed and all you knew is blood and blood and blood and blood -

“Y/N?” Hypnos’ voice, confused and almost too soft, pulled you out.

"Yes. I fought him.” And you said nothing else and stared at the wall. You didn’t realize the memories had taken you for a trip. Normally, only your fathers' voices were able to pull you back.

"You must tell me how!" He filled in your vision, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“No.” You said bluntly. "I'm busy." And you're too attractive for someone so irritating, you thought.

“But-“ Hypnos pouted and you had made yourself look away before you got caught staring at his mouth.

"Hypnos, don't bother him. It is still his first day." Prince Zagreus spoke from behind Hypnos.

Hypnos spun away from you and floated around Zagreus. "Oooh, so how did you die this time? Did a chariot run you over again?"

Zagreus gave a strained smile in greeting. "Forgive Hypnos, I think he forgot his manners when he heard you were joining us in the house."

You shook your head, "It's perfectly fine, your highness." You stared at the prince, the whole reason you were even here was because he looped your father into helping with his runaway attempts.

Zagreus nodded, his face polite but nervous. "Achilles told me I should train with you. That you are actually better at fighting than he is."

"Only in hand to hand combat, otherwise, if you give my father a spear he would win every time." You told him, trying to push away the memories but you could already smell the sharp tang of blood.

"He fought a tribe of centaurs when he was a mere child, Zagreus and he won!" Hypnos gushed, "And he took down Ares!"

You shook your head slightly and the smell of blood went away. Hypnos did it again.

How odd.

Hypnos used Zagreus' head as an armrest much to the latter's displeasure. Zagreus shook him off as he asked, "You killed Ares?"

"No, just knock him out long enough to let my men escape." You left it at that. Ares was more monster than god, and you would rather not revisit those nightmares.

"Zagreus if you like, I can train you later. It would be interesting to see how different our training might be." You said, hoping they would take the hint.

Zagreus nodded, "Of course, I will come find you later."

Zagreus moved to leave but upon seeing that Hypnos wasn't going to leave, grabbed Hypnos' by his cape and pulled him away.

"Come on, Hypnos. I think you do even less work than I do, and I don't even work anymore." Zagreus said pleasantly but an undercurrent of a warning.

You didn't hear Hypnos' response beyond an offended gasp.

You shook your head, no wonder Achilles only wanted quiet when he came to see you and Patroclus.

~~

Of course when it was time for Zagreus' training with you, Hypnos followed along. You thought about kicking him out but knew he would sneak back in later. You know because this wasn't the first time you trained Zagreus and nothing else seemed to work.

Also for some reason, this god ended up being a grounding point for you. You didn't want to admit it but it made being in the house bearable and not a daily fight to stay in the presence. Not that you needed his help.

You pointed toward Zagreus to the middle of the room and turned to Hypnos who beamed up at you. "You. Corner. If I hear one peek from you…" You warned.

Hypnos held his hands and floated silently to the corner. You ignored how Hypnos' eyes followed you around the room. Hypnos wasn't the first fan boy you had and as long you don't feed the attention seeking, he will get bored sooner or later.

Zagreus was a good student. Mostly. But you could tell your father was more careful with him than he was with you.

You shook your head and held up an open hand, "Hit me again."

Zagreus swung a fist into your hand, only to hit the side of your palm. "Alright, step back."

You crossed your arms, "You need to be more intentional in your hits. You're creating more work for yourself. And you won't always have that sword on you." 

Zagreus frowned, "I'm fighting monsters down there, not humans. If I don't have a weapon, they're not going down."

"Like I said you won't always have a weapon in you. Lord Hades took away my father, and that was your best tool. What are you going to do if he takes away your weapons and you can't get them back?"

You raised a brow and asked "Are you going to stay down here and obey like a good little boy?"

And you could tell you stuck a nerve at the scowl Zagreus gave you. Hypnos made a mocking sound and Zagreus whipped his head around to glare at Hypnos.

You mentally sighed, your father got soft over the years. Just for arguing back, Achilles would have You running laps from sunup to sundown while carrying bags of feed.

"Here, let's wrap up with a quick brush up for your next lesson." You said, not bothering to comfort him. The sooner you can break Zagreus out of your father's soft training, the better. "Do you know all the weak points of a body?"

Before Zagreus could respond, Hypnos butted in. "Oooh, I do! Eyes and groin!"

You took a breath when suddenly an idea came to you. You turned to the god, "Hypnos, since you're so eager, come on over here."

Hypnos looked at Zagreus who shrugged then back to you. "Okay." He dragged out the word with suspicion in his tone.

"Well?" You asked, keeping your tone friendly with a smile on your face. You waited until Hypnos got close enough to grab his shoulders and forced him to stand on his feet.

You grabbed his face with a hand, squishing his cheeks. He made a squeaky sound and you bit back a smirk. A little humiliation should be enough to get Hypnos to stay away and you can focus on what you came here to do. The only reason you bothered with helping Zagreus was because your father asked you too.

"Pay attention, I expect you to remember this for your next lesson." You told Zagreus.

"Hypnos got two right, but he forgot about the nose and honestly, almost anything you will ever fight will have a weakness here." You tapped Hypnos between his eyes which made him blinked. "Hit here or here if you can get a good upward swing ," you tapped the tip of Hypnos' nose, "With preciseness you won't need much force and you save energy as well."

Next You turned his head toward you and could see the start of a flush. Good, it was working.

You pointed to the area between the ear and jaw, "This won't kill but it will make your opponent dizzy and that could buy the second you need to finish them."

You went on listing other parts of the body for Zagreus and Hypnos obediently went along with it. Moving his arm and lifting a leg up.

"And lastly, the groin like Hypnos said earlier but I doubt I need to go in depth about that area." You finished as you let Hypnos go.

"Got it?" You asked.

"Yes, sir." Zagreus smirked at his friend's misfortune.

`Hypnos just stayed silent, flushed to his hairline.

~~

You were sure you wouldn't see Hypnos for a while but the little god surprised you. Just a day after the training, he seeked you out.

"Achilles didn't teach you how to fight, did he?" Hypnos asked. His dark circles were deeper than normal and you got the feeling he didn't get much rest.

"What makes you say that?" You asked, actually curious about Hypnos' thought process.

"I mean, you're unusually strong and you seem to have, let's say, a more ruthless fighting style than your father does. Not bad, mind you, just different." Hypnos shrugged, "I've seen him train Zagreus. And it's just different."

You thought about bushing him off, but something about how tired he looked made you speak up. "You're right. Kinda. He wasn't my first teacher. I was sold as a child for a fighting ring. And they usually don't let the loser live." You tighten your hold the spear, to ward off the memories.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I couldn't imagine." Hypnos said. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

You blinked several times, "You didn't."

But the look on Hypnos' face told you he didn't believe you.

~~

Screaming. Inhuman mad screaming.

Patroclus' body broken on the ground and Achilles stared past You even as you tried to talk to him.

You felt like you lost both of your fathers as you trailed behind Achilles on his warpath.

Hands wet with blood and you think you should be screaming too but Patroclus was broken and gone and the screaming never stopped-

"Y/N. Hey, Y/N." Hypnos stood in front of you, his big golden eyes concerned. For a moment, you weren't standing in the East wing with Hypnos.

But a burning city and people running and crying. And Hypnos stood in the middle of it.

What was the little god doing here?

“Y/N!”

You blinked and you were back in the east wing, no smoke or no fire or crying followed.

“Hypnos?” You realized you had a tight grip on Hypnos’ arm as if you wanted to yank him out of the memories.

You let go. “I-i my apologies, Hypnos. I-“

“Wowie, that must have been a bad one huh?” Hypnos didn’t look upset and you frowned at him. “Are you not…?” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

“No.” Hypnos said softly. “I know the story about how you… Died and what happened to your head.” Hypnos waved a hand toward his own head, trying to make his point clear. “I guess what I’m saying is no, I’m not upset or mad or whatever. I just wanna know if you’re okay.”

You said nothing for several moments, looking at Hypnos’s kind face and realized to your great shame exactly how little you understood Hypnos and his intentions.

“Yes, thank you.” You told him softly.

~~

You tapped your foot as you waited on Zagreus to show up. You have been in the house for several months now and Zagreus didn't always show up for training especially since he was getting closer to the surface.

Hypnos floated lazily around the room, waiting for you to look away so he could touch one of the weapons.  Normally Skully was here to chase him off but apparently not even Skully wanted to show up.  

After a few more minutes and warning Hypnos off on touching the spear, you got tired of waiting for Zagreus.

"Come on, Hypnos I think his highness must be on one of his attempts." You told him.

"Wait, wait or you could train me!" Hypnos circled you. He gave you the puppy dog eyes and you shook your head.

"Please. I've been so good when you're training Zagreus! Just one time." Hypnos begged.

And of course, you gave in.

"Alright. On your feet."

You chuckled at Hypnos' cheering.

Hypnos was… You didn't know what he was. After the day of failed attempts of embarrassment, Hypnos stuck around. He would follow you around like a lost puppy whenever he could.  

You knew he was lonely, quietly trying to repair the broken bonds with his family. That he had near encyclopedia knowledge about Greek Heroes and monsters, even about your own fathers'. That he loved sweets but would eat raw honey every time if given the chance.

And the fact that just like your fathers, he was able to pull you back into the now.

He was...

Friend, you think firmly, he had become a friend.

~~

“Can I ask you something? Like super personal?” Hypnos said out of the blue one day. You raised an eyebrow, “I have never known a personal question to stop you before but sure, you can ask me.”

“Why haven’t you drunk from the river Lethe? Wouldn’t it help?” Hypnos said, biting a thumbnail.

Oh. No wonder he was nervous.

“I don’t want to forget. I need to remember as much as I can.” You told him gently. Hypnos tilted his head, confusion on his face.

“If I forget, I won’t be the same person. You can’t forget without losing a part of yourself and I want to keep all of me. The bad and good.” You tried to explain, feeling like you sound like a cheesy philosopher.

“Oh. I think I get it.” Hypnos said. His smile was small but warm. Blood and darkness, you had gotten soft. You couldn’t stop the bust of fondness that your chest and you already looked like a fool so why not go farther?

“Like you, I wouldn’t want to forget you, Hypnos.” You said, a blush forming on your cheeks.

Hypnos blinked as if he didn’t understand what you just said but you saw a blush form on his own cheeks.

“I wouldn’t want to forget you too, Y/N.”

Part two

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, drunkenness, some content not warned.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: This is it for Sam and it will give me a chance to start plotting Frank and Peter’s storylines but no promises on when those will be touched. I’m still sorting through ideas.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 7: It’s a shame to leave this masterpiece

💀💀💀

As you came up to The Asp, you felt better than you had in days. The blend of alcohol in your stomach blurred the old brick buildings of the small town and buffed out the peeling paint of the image of the ancient Queen. The girls giggled behind you in a similar state, ready to celebrate the occasion.

You were the first inside as you stumbled past the man smoking at the doors. He was clothed in leather like any of the others within. You hit the table with your hip as you came into the barroom and kicked it as it wobbled.

“Sup, bitches?” you announced your presence as the other girls entered behind you and laughed raucously at the introduction.

Your eyes met Sam’s as you looked around. He sat with those other men, Bucky tilted his head in disbelief at you and Steve stood as his girl came up to lean on your arm and slur, “let’s put some good music on!”

“Yeah!” the rest of you chimed in unison, “and more drinks!”

“Drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks,” Bucky’s girl and the mechanic chanted as the crossed to the bar and you staggered with the third to the old jukebox.

“Jesus, you got anything made in the last three decades?” you chirped as you heard the scrape of chairs and a low mutter.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bucky demanded and you glanced over as you hit a button.  The disco beat rose as the bartender with the dyed hair poured a line of shots, “you are all drunk.”

“No, we’re ready for a good time!” you sang as you bopped to the beat and Steve’s girl began to wiggle oddly. You supposed that was dancing, power to her.

“You,” Bucky turned on you, “this is your fault--”

“It’s a special night,” Sam stepped up, “they’re having fun.”

“They’re making a scene,” Bucky growled.

“There’s hardy anyone here, or anyone sober enough to care,” Sam rolled his eyes as he smirked at you. You stuck out your tongue and brushed by Bucky as the shot glasses stood ready.

“Some for them,” you jabbed your thumb over your shoulder, “buncha tight asses!”

You lifted a dark brown shot and tried not to spill it as you neared Bucky. He was still scary in your tipsy delight but you didn’t care enough to back off.

“Do it,” you leaned towards him, “chill out, bruh.”

Sam snorted as Steve steadied his girl and spoke quietly as she ignored him and mouthed the words to the Donna Summers song. He was failing to hold her attention as her eyes rounded at the drink in your hand then flitted to the bar as another four were added to the row.

“Really,” the slender dark-haired man leaned an elbow on the bar as he peered down his nose at the mechanic, “this is unseemly.”

“Double for him,” you cried out and grabbed Bucky’s hand to wrap around the shot glass, “consider it an apology from me, boss.”

You patted his shoulder and turned away to near the prim man with his stuffy accent.

“Do you prefer a pint? What do they drink in tight-ass-opia?” you snickered and his brows arched. The mechanic slid a shot towards him and nudged you away with her arm.

“Drink,” she challenged him as she took her own, “you bitch.”

Your mouth fell open at her blatant defiance and Loki’s green eyes flickered as he lifted his chin. The song changed but it was another upbeat melody you recognized. The tall man took the shot from the mechanic and drank it smoothly before carefully setting the glass back down.

“This is a birthday party,” you said, “where’s the cake?”

“Yeah, why didn’t I get a cake?” Steve’s girl shoved him, “that’s bullshit.”

“Sweetie,” he warned and she sidled past him to claim a shot.

“It’s my birthdayyyyy,” she drawled, “I’m doing what I want--” she paused to choke down the shot and turned on him again, “and you’re not my daddy so I’m gonna have fun. You’re welcome to join or fuck off.”

There was a silence as you all stared at the usually soft-spoken woman. She pointed to her empty glass and the bartender. 

“Alright, that’s enough--” Bucky began.

“Hey,” a woman with reddish blonde hair stepped up in a leather jacket, “pour me a shot.”

“Wanda,” he warned.

“Jeez, Buck,” she reached forward to take the newly poured liquor, “they’re right. This place is usually dead. What’s one night?”

“Yeah, one night,” Bucky’s girl intoned, “take the shot, take the shot, take the shot…” She neared him and pushed her finger against the bottom of the shot glass, “just do it.”

He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He knocked it back sharply and cleared his throat.

“You guys are cleaning up the mess,” he muttered.

“You’re gonna help us make it,” she threw her arms up as the jukebox got louder and you looked over as Steve’s girl held her finger down on a button, “hey, I love this song!”

💀

The night never quite slowed down so you couldn’t say it took a sharp turn. The bar was a frenzy of music and alcohol. You could tell by the pulsing ring in your vision you would feel it the next morning, even if you didn’t remember any of it.

You were enshrined in the glow of your own intoxication as the bar cleared for a moment. There were bodies all over, talking, moving, dancing. You blinked past Sam who was all too eager to join in, an excuse to have his hands all over you. You leaned on him as a ‘whoo’ stabbed your eardrums.

You blinked as Bucky’s girl came clearer. She was on the pool table, writhing around a cue like a stripper. The man who called himself her keeper reached for her ankle and she kicked him away as Wanda cheered her on.

You giggled and looked over at the cushioned bench against the wall behind the table. You were shocked and yet not as the mechanic had her tongue halfway down the baker’s throat. The two girls were locked together in the din of the room. 

Loki sat on the other side of the table but his head lolled back and his long legs were splayed before him. He was likely passed out. Another figure approached and you tried to move past Sam as he clung to you and turned with to look over at the scene.

Steve grabbed the mechanic’s arm and tugged on her but she kept her other hooked around his girl. She yanked away from him and he did it again.

“Get off her,” he snarled.

“Fuck off, dude,” she parted for one second to utter the deterrent before she started at it again, drawn back hungrily by the other woman.

“Let em do it,” Sam called out, “that’s hot as fuck.”

You hushed him and Steve seized the mechanic again. This time he was met by a fist as she came up swinging, leaving his girl against the bench. She caught him in the chest and then the jaw and swiftly looped her arm around his neck as she bent him over. He jabbed at her side and she grunted drunkenly and stomped his foot.

“Hey!” you rushed forward and Sam’s hand fell away as your holler drew the attention of everyone else.

“Eh!” Bucky’s girl hopped down and drunkenly landed with the cue in hand. She pulled it back but was kept from swinging as Bucky followed her towards the scuffle.

You hopped on Steve’s back as the mechanic kept her arm around his neck and his girl came up with senseless eyes. 

“Why are you doing this?” she grumbled, “we were having fun.” She reached out and pulled his hair so he winced, “you’re always on me! Always controlling me!”

“Get off!” Steve grunted as he clawed at the arm around his neck and you tried to pull him off-balance from behind.

A sudden, deafening noise stilled everyone. Steve’s girl slumped back as the cue clattered from the other woman’s grasp and the mechanic released the man in leather as you slid off his back. Sam caught your arm and stilled you as Bucky stood with his gun in hand.

“Enough,” he was drunk himself but mad enough to rage through the alcohol, “enough. Fun is over.”

You all stared at him as he holstered his gun and huffed. The music continued to blare and he stomped over to the jukebox and shut it off.

“Get them out of here!” he barked as he spun back, “you,” he pointed at his girl, “back office. Now.”

Loki was the only one undisturbed as he remained blacked out on the chair. Steve gritted his jaw and snatched up his girl who could barely stand on her own feet. She pouted as he swiped up her coat and shoved it into her arms. He got a curled lip from the mechanic but she let him go.

Sam chuckled under his breath and shook his head as he took your hand, “better pack up… tomorrow’ll be fun.”

You found your coat on the floor and pulled it on as you peeked around Sam. He swayed slightly himself as he leaned a hand on the bar. The mechanic kicked Loki’s chair but he didn’t flinch. She shrugged and left him there, tramping out without looking back. 

Your eyes met Bucky’s as he stopped at the door on the far side of the bar. His eyes met yours as he scowled and you quickly glanced away. You grasped Sam’s arm and hid your fear.

“Let’s go,” you whispered. 

You knew you were in shit again but you were fairly certain, that would never change. You sealed your fate when you walked in that bar the first time.

💀

You woke up to the harsh glare of sunlight. You shielded your face and groaned as you wriggled under the thick arm across your side. Sam hardly moved as you rolled over and sat up with a wince. There were glimmers of the night before but more pressingly, your stomach boiled and bubbled.

You slid out of bed, eyes half-closed as you made your way to the bathroom. You still had your crop top on and nothing else. You knew he fucked you again but had no recollection of it, nothing but the dullness deep in your core. You flipped open the toilet and leaned on the seat. You heaved until the bile splashed down into the bowl.

You finished spewing out your drunken regrets and rinsed your mouth in the sink. You’d never drank that much before and for the first time, you were feeling it beyond the sunrise. You dragged your feet back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. 

Sam remained face down on the bed, his thick back moving slightly as he breathed rhythmically into the pillow. You sat on the end of the mattress and rubbed your cheeks. You vaguely remembered an argument and dancing. You knew it didn’t end well.

You were jarred by a knock at your door and moaned at the nail in your skull. You stood as your nan’s voice rose from the other side.

“Girly, you get out here right now,” she hammered on the wood, “you have company.”

You went to the door and opened it just a crack. She leaned her hand on the it and grimaced.

“I know he’s in there, no use hiding,” she snarled, “both of you, downstairs.” She didn’t hang around for your confusion or arguments. She sniffed as she descended the stairs and muttered, “need another smoke.”

You shut the door and turned around as Sam grunted and his lashes fluttered in grogginess. You took his shirt from the floor and flung it at him.

“What’s up?” he asked sleepily as he caught it and turned his legs over the side of the bed. He was completely naked.

“Someone’s here,” you shrugged as you pulled on a hoodie, “she didn’t say.”

“Mmm,” he rose and fished his jeans from the floor.

He buttoned them and followed you to the door. You held onto the railing tight as you made your way down and you peeked into the kitchen curiously as your nan’s cigarette smoke tickled your nose. Your chest knotted as you saw Bucky sitting at the table, his own face lined with tension as he drank from a mug.

“There they are,” you nan frowned, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Millie,” Bucky raised the hot mug and leaned it against his forehead, “you understand this is… private business.”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotta find that damn cat anyhow,” she retorted harshly, “you make it quick. This is still my house.”

He cleared his throat and waited for her to go. She sucked on her cigarette as she passed you and tutted. She pulled on her jacket and boots and tramped out without another word, the door slamming behind her.

“Sit,” Bucky said.

Sam nudged you and you neared the table and dropped into a chair. Sam went to the counter and poured himself a coffee from the machine. Bucky stared at you as his jaw gritted and he set down his cup.

“It’s clear to me that after last night, Sam has not made things plain to you,” he sent Sam a pointed look as the other man sat, “or maybe you just choose not to understand.”

“What did I do?” you croaked as you longed for a mug of the brew.

“I keep this town in order. Not the club; me.” He ignored your question, “and I am not in the habit of putting up with this type of bullshit.”

“It was just fun--”

“Enough,” he hit the table, “if my lady didn’t like you so much, I would be done with this. Done with you. But out of respect to her and Sam, I will give you one last warning. You get in line or I put you down. You and the old bitch.”

Your skin crawled as you glanced over at Sam. He was sombre and silent, the usual humour completely gone from his face. He nodded at you and then pushed his shoulders back in defeat.

“She’ll behave,” Sam said.

“It’s not just her head if she doesn’t,” Bucky stood, “I like you Sam but you vouched for her. You knew what that meant.”

“She will,” Sam rose as well.

“I’ll see you at The Asp in ten,” Bucky said, “we have business. Real business,” he let out a long breath and looked at you, “just know, the rest of them will be punished too. Just remember, that’s your fault.”

He left without another word and you lowered your chin. You liked the other girls, they were older but they were nice, and it was easy enough to see they were just like you. Trapped and tortured by these men. You were never very good at reading people or a room, but you knew that. You felt it so you saw it in them.

“Well, gotta go,” Sam said, “I’ll be back. We’ll go over everything.”

“Fine,” you replied like a bratty child, “I didn’t… do anything.”

“You won’t do anything,” he girded firmly, “you’re fun but not that fun.”

He retreated upstairs and you got up to pour yourself the last of the pot. You heard the front door and you turned as your nan entered with Pippen slung over her shoulder. She crinkled her nose as she crossed to the counter and leaned beside you.

“That man’s a right ass,” she said, “reminds me of a few back in my day.”

“Mhmm,” you sipped and avoided her gaze guiltily.

“Girly, I know, it’s not your fault. Those men, they always take it too far,” she kept her voice low.

“No, I went down there, I started all this--”

“Whatever you did, it doesn’t warrant this,” she touched your arm, “and those other girls, they didn’t do anything worse than you.”

“Nan, you can’t--”

“All I want you to do is play along,” she said as her jaw clenched, “and tell those girls, they need anything, they come here; a meal, an ear, a place to sleep… and you tell them I dealt with these men before. They don’t change over the years.”

“Nan?” your mouth fell open and you scoffed in disbelief.

“One day,” she raised a finger, “there’ll be a change and those men don’t know what they got comin’. A woman’s best weapon is patience.”

You eyed your nan as she pet Pippin and went to the fridge to pull out the open can of tuna and feed him a shred. He took it from her fingers as she set it on the counter and he hopped off to eat directly from the tin.

“Don’t look so stupid,” she lifted a brow and paused to look up as you heard Sam above, “you got some smartenin’ up to do. A lot.”

END

[fruitcoops]

ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

[wpdarlingpan]

I have a suggestion! What about pan or jerome valeska kiddnaping the reader/oc? Ik its pretty basic, but maybe pan kidnapps her to obress Emma and Jerome kiddnapps her because he is fond of her appearance yk? Maybe a little bit yandere style.

Thank u I hope you like my suggestions!

Thanks for my first suggestion! I hope it’s good :)

Please let me know if there is something I should fix for later suggestions. Be it my writing style, or if you’d prefer me to make an OC for the story.

Also TW with just a mention of how Greenwood is charged with Rape and Murder. It’s only the mention and will not be brought up further.

Now on with the story.

Background information: Y/N is the daughter of Jim Gordon and Barbara. She isn’t associated with Barbra since she went slightly crazy. She considers Lee like her mom. Her dad is very over protective since he’s seen the dark side of Gotham. She is 18 years old and somewhat shy/innocent from being protected by her dad.

“Bye dad! Love you!” Y/N yelled out as she approached the front door of their apartment. She was hoping to leave before her dad could give her the talk she always got before leaving the house but luck wasn’t on her side. She also felt the teeniest bit of guilt for rushing out so quickly as she and her dad had a good relationship and she knew he was just trying to protect her.

“Wait.” He spoke coming down the hallway into the room. He knew she didn’t like the fact she had to go over rules before she left the house but he’d been even more nervous since there was a breakout at Arkham.

“Yes?” Y/N questioned.

“Got your phone?”

“Yep.”

“Charged?”

“100%.”

“House key?”

“Definitely.”

“Emergency money?”

“Right in my pocket.”

“Pepper spray?”

“Yep and with the safety on so I don’t accidentally spray myself... again.” She spoke while looking down sheepishly.

“All right love you kiddo. Remember what I said about those people who broke out yesterday.”

Jim spoke while lightly kissing the side of her head and let her go to school.

“I remember. Also love you Always and forever dad. Don’t forget you have a date with Lee later!” Y/N reminded before closing the door to make her way to the Gotham High school. Her dad had bought her a car so she would be more safe getting to and from school as he didn’t trust city busses or taxis. She didn’t mind though it was nice and she was able to play some music while she drove.

Once she arrived at the school she saw the cheerleaders loading onto the bus. She was a photographer for the yearbook and it was one of their first football games for the year so they send her to photograph for the team. She was way to shy to actually try out for it. Once double checking if her car was locked she put the keys in her pocket and made her way to the bus with her camera looped around her neck.

She got on first as the rest of the cheerleads were talking outside the bus with the coach. Y/N sat in the very back with her feet up next to her as a sign of ‘do not sit by me’ she was rather short so it was comfortable as well. She then pulled out her phone and began to text her dad that she was safely on the bus. He replied with a quick ‘ok’ and ‘be safe’ then she started to play a game on her phone as the cheerleaders began to load onto the bus. Once everyone was on the bus they drove away from the school at the cheerleaders were practice their cheers. The. Whole. Ride. It was beginning to get on her nerves as she preferred the peace and quiet but she knew that being on a bus with cheerleaders would be anything but. She grabbed one side of her headphones and began to play music. She lightly tapped her fingers to it and looked out the window.

They drove for about 20 more mins before they were stopped. A red truck had pulled in front of them and people approached the truck. She spotted guns in their hands. She quickly dialed her dads phone and begged for him to pick up.

“Y/N? What is it?” He could tell by her erratic breathing that something was wrong.

“There are people with guns on the bus! They just shot the driver. We are on (random Gotham street) please hurry!”

“I’m on my way! Try and stay on the line.” She said a quiet okay she a boy with red hair entered the bus. Jim quickly ordered police officers to make their way towards the scene.

“I want you all to know... this was a very difficult decision for us.” The boy spoke as he waved around his guns as if it was a toy. Y/N had already ducked down in her seat after a different person had handcuffed them to the seats. She wanted to stay out of of the seemingly ringleaders point of view as she watching her phone continue to hold the call with her dad and her headphone was in on low in order for him not to hear the phone. She still listened from her other ear to be aware.

“It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party.

In the end, we decided to skew a little younger.” He spoke while putting the gun to one of the girls heads. He walked towards the back of the bus as he continued his speech. She heard him coming and quickly tucked her phone into her pocket along with the headphones.

“Youth won the day. Sorry.”

He had reached the back to the bus and was about to turn around when he saw her tucked into the seat. She was very small and if he didn’t know this was a high school bus he would have thought she was a kid. She looked up at him with terrified doe eyes and he looked at her with a smile. He liked her. The innocence in her eyes that made him swoon. She clearly wasn’t like his whore of a mother. She would make a good partner.

“And who might you be.” He spoke while he used his charm. He lifted her chin up lightly with his unoccupied hand as the gun still rested in the other. She scooted as far away as she could with the handcuffs keeping her in place.

“Y-Y/N.” She stuttered out in fear. She was trying to hide not stand out. He moved her hand away from the start of the handcuffs and brought up his gun to which she began squirming at as it was raised.

“Shh, just going to get these off.” He attempted to comfort but it was honestly more frighting what was he going to do.

He shot the handcuffs and the bullet got lodged into the seat as she was detached from the seat but still had the cuffs around her wrist.

“You’ll be coming with me Doll.” He spoke while tugging her up from the seat as the cheerleaders continued to cry at the situation.

“No!” She attempted to struggle but she was too small to get away. But he held onto her. He tugged her out of the bus before giving her to Aaron. Since he didn’t trust Greenwood with his girl. Not like he trusted Aaron any more but he wasn’t charged for rape.

Aaron obeyed and tightly held her as Jerome put back on his crazy face and went back onto the bus.

“Give me an "O"!” He shouted to make fun of them.

“I said, give me a "O".” He shot the roof of the bus making the cry harder.

“O!” The cried out through their tears.

“ Give me an "N".” He spoke again with enthusiasm

“N!”

“Give me another "O"!”

“O!”

“What does that spell?” He questioned while greenwood handed him a hose that would spray gasoline out from the truck they had stolen.

"Oh, no!"

He walked up and down the isles of the bus and sprayed each and everyone one of them with gasoline while they all screamed in fear.

He finished and walked out of the bus and grabbed a lighter from his pocket.

“Ready? Okay!” Jerome said as he attempted to make the lighter work. The flame wouldn’t appear and Y/N continued to struggle in Aaron’s arms but for the man it was nothing. Dobkins was bouncing in his place with anticipation.

But it never lit.

“This is so embarrassing.” Jerome spoke harshly. He was making a fool out of himself in front of his girl.

“Anyone got a light?” He requested from the group of cheerleaders. Y/N was questioning if he really expected them to give him one since he was trying to kill them. He walked off after they all cried out a ‘No’ and winked at Y/N as she looked at him making her glance away hoping for her dad to hurry.

“I do. I got...” Dobkins replied while reaching into his own pocket to grab a lighter.

As Dobkins went to hand Jerome the lighter sirens sounded and police pulled onto the scene. She began struggling more as Aaron held her with one hand and shot with the other with little to no aim.

She saw as her dad got out of the car and quickly held up his gun. His heart stopped as he saw his daughter in the hands of one of the Maniax.

“Stand your ground, boys. They can't shoot at a bus.” Jerome smugly told the crew. He glanced at his doll to see her struggling still while eyeing one of the officers.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Jim quickly yelled in fear one something hitting his daughter or the bus.

“Dad!” She yelled out as she attempted to kick Aaron but did little to no damage.

Jeromes eyes widened with surprise. Jim Gordon had a daughter? This would be two birds with one stone. He smirked as Jim looked panicked.

“Aaron, Greenwood, get the truck started. And pass me my girl.” Jerome demanded. Y/N was shoved towards Jerome who caught her with a arm wrapped around her waist. He spotted her phone in her pocket and tossed it onto the pavement so they couldn’t be tracked nor could she call.

The officers had ducked behind their cars as Jerome shot at them.

“We're gonna blow this barbecue stand, huh Doll?” He told her as he tugged her towards the truck as her dad tried to follow before he was shot at again.

Greenwood sat on the outside holding onto the bus with the hose.

“Light 'em up!” Jerome spoke as he turned around and made a round motion with his arm to Dobkins who struggled with a lighter as well.

Jerome laughed manically as he got into the truck with her on his lap to which she blushed making him smirk and they began to drive off leaving Dobkins with the police.

Soon they were out of view and Jim quickly drove the bus away from the flames that had fought when the lighter was dropped. He needed to get his daughter back.

Y/N had a blind fold put on her as they left the scene to head back to Galivants building. Once they arrived Jerome picked her up bridal style and carried her into the building. He was stopped by the man himself as he headed to his room.

“And whose this?” He questioned quite poshly. She couldn’t recognize the voice but it seemed familiar.

“My girl.” He replied looking Galivant in the eye with a murderous look, daring him to say she couldn’t stay.

“Fine. But she stays in your room. Wouldn’t suggest having her out here with Greenwood.” He spoke before walking away to his office. Jerome laughed at even the thought of letting Greenwood anywhere near her. He brought her into his room and sat her on the bed. He quickly locked the door with a key to which he placed in his pocket before removing the blindfold.

Y/N blinked to adjust to the light and when she did she quickly scrambled back on the bed, away from the boy in front of her.

“Oh Y/N your never getting away from me. Not now, not ever.” He spoke before laughing crazily making her whimper and her eyes water. She curled up in a ball in an attempt to shield herself away from the boy.

“Well Doll, welcome to your new home. By the way, the names Jerome. Jerome Valeska.”

Y/N began to shake, her dad had told her about his interview. She should have for the hint from the fact of his unsettling laughter.

She was utterly screwed.

Let me know if you’d like a quick part 2

Also, please suggest things to write 😁

[madaraxwbu]

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✧ pairing: suehiro tetcho x fem!reader

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, rough undertones

✧ a/n: there’s hardly any suehiro smut out there so i thought i’d take it upon myself to write some. so this is just 3k words of pure FILTH. suehiro is my second fave bsd character (after chuuya)🥺✨

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“Why didn’t you tell me you were a Port Mafia executive?” The deadpan tone of Tetcho filled your ears as you were writing down a shopping list on a notepad at your desk.

You crossed one leg over the other as you propped your elbow up on your desk, resting your cheek on your palm, turning slightly to look at Tetcho out of the corner of your eye.

“I refuse to believe that you didn’t know I was in the Port Mafia,” you huffed a laugh, “a man of your status surely does background checks on those he’s sleeping with. After all, I had done one on you, I was well-aware you were a Hunting Dog long before you told me.”

The almost naive expression of shock spread over his handsome features, before his brows creased in confusion.

“You knew I was a PM executive, you just decided that you didn’t mind because you could get your dick wet with me whenever you liked, hm?” You grinned, eyes sparking with tantalisation.

Tetcho almost stuttered, before pulling his lips into a straight line.

“I don’t appreciate secrets being kept from me, and I don’t like people that torture others,” he seriously stated.

Your brows raised before you turned around fully on your chair, gazing at his tall form, standing his ground firmly.

“I don’t torture,” you corrected, outstretching your hand and pulling him towards you with your ability. Just like a magnet, he began to move against the floor without actually moving his feet. His expression didn’t change.

When he stood in front of you, you were level with his stomach. You gazed up at him with a teasing smirk before grabbing his shirt to pull him down to his knees. He was much much stronger than you in terms of physical strength, so you knew that when he dropped to his knees, he went down willingly.

Now, with your form looming over his, you leaned forward and put your hand under his chin, leaning into his personal space, a smug smirk spread on your lips as you looked into his eyes.

His hands settled on the inside of your knees, slowly drifting up the sensitive inside of your thighs whilst he returned the eye contact.

Your smirk turned into a fall grin, a flash of your teeth showing, “I see you put your own sexual desires before your moral compass,” you said with a quick arch of your brows.

You easily spread your legs wider for him, allowing his battle-worn hands more access. His index finger on his right hand disappeared under your skirt, finding your clothed clit easily as adding some pressure.

Even through your panties, he could feel your warmth, “you’re wet.”

“I get a thrill off knowing you’re supposed to take me in yet you just decide to fuck me instead,” you whispered against his lips before you closed the contact, your lips placing on his.

Tetcho sighed through his nose contentedly before slipping his hand under the underside of your panties to find your clit bare. His long and wonderfully talented fingers immediately started drawing tight circles on your centre of pleasure, making you keen as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck to pull him in deeper to the kiss.

He easily demonstrated the difference in your physical strength with his next actions, standing up quicker than you could process before he grabbed you by your upper arms, hard enough to bruise if it kept up for much longer, before spinning you around and slamming you against your desk.

The edge of the desk dug in sharply on your thighs, making your stomach jump with surprise whilst a quick wince seethed through your clenched teeth. You made a thought to protest, but before your mouth could open to speak, his long fingers wound around to grab your jaw, clenching tightly as he ground his hips up against your ass.

You pout, which is made a lot easier by him squishing your face as your brows dropped into a frown. You gyrated back against him, trying to tease him. But no matter how hard you tried in the beginning, Tetcho always proceeded to take control in the end.

The tall man pulled your body against his firmly before his free hand travelled down, disappearing once again under your skirt before this time deciding to take your underwear off you completely. He pulled them until they dropped freely to your ankles.

You took the liberty to step out of them, kicking them away as you spread your legs wider. He hummed in appreciation at the action, before his fingers once again found your clit.

His lips feather gently behind your ear as he uses two fingers against you, rubbing small and lazy circles over it as you whine slowly. He's practically purring in your ear as he plays with your sensitive pearl, bodies flush against one another. You reach back with one hair to thread it through his unruly hair, your ass sticking out as you back arched.

With your other hand, you try to tug on his trousers, opting for the empty belt loops. With just your index finger, you pulled on the material, another meek whine slipping past your lips to express what you what.

His amber eyes glow with lust as a pleased sigh rumbles in his chest.

“A needy little mafioso,” he said flatly against the shell of your ear.

You can’t help the breath of a laugh that slips through your teeth as you rest your head back against him, “when it comes to a cock as good as yours, I can’t help myself.”

His ego seemed to inflate at that, as he immediately became more than willing to comply with your wishes. He removed his hand from your jaw, other hand still strumming steadily at your clit, using his now free hand to undo the button on his slacks. He pulled the zipper down, the rasping of the metal undoing was almost music to your ears.

Pushing his trousers down to his thighs, he opted to remove his boxers next whilst his fingers decided to travel further south, the rough pads of his fingers prodding at your hole. his cock sprung against the small of your back and it's almost humiliating how wet that alone made you. Well, maybe his fingers were helping with that too.

You gasp as his fingers easily slip inside of you, his other hand now coming up to knead at your tits.

You shift your ass, pushing back against him to entice him. You give out those small, little moans that you know he adores. They always drive him wild, always make him like a putty in your hands.

“Fuck, Suehiro, fuck just like that,” you breath out as his fingers work in and out of you, curled at the ends to brush against that spot inside of you that will have you seeing stars in no time.

You bring one hand to grasp loosely around his wrist, to keep him inside of your pussy more than anything.

The heat that his cock was radiating against your lower back was almost unbearable, so you decided to use your other hand to reach back to wrap your hand tightly around it. You started to jerk him off, as best you could in the awkward position.

You felt the muscles in his thighs twitch at the unexpected contact, but he wasn’t displeased with your decision.

His breathing was paced against the shell of your ear, before he bared his teeth just slightly to nibble on it. It sent tingles the whole way down your spine.

“You’re a cruel man, Suehiro,” you whined pathetically.

“Cruel? Are you not enjoying yourself?” He responded seriously. Trust Tetcho to take everything you said at face value, you should’ve known better. His fingers slowed, which you were quick to correct.

“No! Nono, please don’t stop, I’m enjoying myself,” you panted hotly.

His brows creased in confusion, but he decided to believe you when you said you were enjoying yourself to again start up his pace once more. He was quicker this time, more decisive in his movements.

You let out a silent cry as the action made you tug on his cock harder, earning a pleasured wince from him in return.

His fingers pushed and dragged in and out of you as such an agonising pace, you could feel your arousal doubling with each moment that his fingers treated your gummy walls. Your mind was reeling as your fingers started to loosen around his cock.

"Suehiro! Make me cum!" you pleaded, and you fixed your concentration back on tossing him off, with more vigor this time.

"Yes, that's a good girl," he moaned, and you continued with what you were doing - because it encouraged him further to finger you better. Your mind almost short-circuited from hearing him call you a good girl.

His fingers picked up rapidly, fucking into you with the sole purpose to make you lose yourself on his fingers. Your hand released his wrist, instead grasping onto the edge of the desk as you let out repeated moans and cries of pleasure.

Tetcho’s lips find your neck this time, settling on the hollow of the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the smooth flesh.

Your body jolted at the action, squeezing a heavenly moan from your throat as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He felt your walls constrict tighter around his fingers, which told him that he was definitely doing something right.

“I’m- fuck, fuck Suehiro, I’m gonna-” your mouth was practically salivating at this point.

Deciding to take it up a notch, he started to suck on your neck. He was planning to leave marks on your body, so that you could stroll into Port Mafia Headquarters tomorrow to display that you had been royally fucked the night before.

The idea of people seeing his mark on your made your mind frazzle in a frenzy.

“Cum on my fingers,” he demanded, the words alone were enough to push you over the teetering edge that you had found yourself on.

Your body shook with small tremors as your back arched further, your walls pulsing around his fingers before you let the dam break, coating his fingers in your cum, the cry that tried to escape you was bent in your throat, leaving you instead with your mouth hung open and your eyes rolled back.

Your clit twitched as he continued to massage your walls, your knees buckling as you tried to move away from him, but you were trapped firmly between him and the desk, so you had nowhere to go. You were completely at his mercy.

Just how he liked you.

His hand squeezed your tit before he stepped back, his fingers slipping out of you and leaving you feeling awfully empty.

His nimble fingers found the zip of your skirt, saying nothing as he pulled it down to undo it. You gave no sign of resistance, letting him undress you how he wanted.

Your skirt fell to your ankles, leaving your bottom half completely exposed. You had assumed he would reach for the bottom of your top next.

So it came as quite a surprise when instead you felt his entire right hand smack against your ass firmly. So hard that it let your cheek tingling, you let out a yelp of surprise as your head snapped back to look at him.

An awfully bratty pout on your lips with furrowed brows. A cocky smirk graced his lips, before he decided to give your other cheek a firm spank as well.

You huffed out, “I like it when you’re rough with me.”

His eyes flashed with a glint at that. Lord knew that this man could be incredibly rough when he wanted to be. His superhuman strength was ungodly in bed. You thanked the heavens that you were blessed with such a fuck-buddy.

“Then I suppose I have no choice but to be absolutely brutal then, hm?” He tested.

You smiled widely at his words, nodding your head enthusiastically before you reached down for the hem of your top yourself, quickly pulling it up your torso to toss it away, you didn’t have a care in the world as to where it would land. As long as it made it quicker to get his cock stuffed in you.

You stood naked, back still to him as you felt his presence push up against your body once again. He was still dressed, apart from his trousers being shucked down to his mid-thighs. Only his cock was exposed.

It was sort of a shame, considering how absolutely divine his body looked. But you supposed it didn’t matter too much when he decided to push your chest down against the surface of the desk. His right hand coming up to plant on your temple to keep your head down, cheek squished against some papers you were working on.

"You better scream for me, I don't care who hears," he spoke down to you. Your eyes widened at the filth coming from his mouth.

Your immediate cries were caught in your throat as he forced his dick into you. Your cunt swallowed him wholly with a welcoming pleasure, your body attempted to make a jerk reaction to toss your head back, but his strong fingers were holding you firmly down.

The suddenness made you dig your nails into the palms of your hands and choke on air. There was not even a ray of kindness with how he started, pumping into your body with full force and at a hard pace. Your thighs bumped against the edge of the desk, you were more than certain you were going to be littered with bruises by the morning.

Your eyes shook in their sockets as you tried to catch your breathing, but his cock stretched you so obscenely you couldn’t help but feel every inch of him completely ravaging your pussy.

"Suehiro!" you cried out, brain frying from his actions. His hips fucked you against the edge of the desk, your breath and body heat steaming the glossed inanimate object.

His unoccupied hand came down to land another firm span against your ass, making you scream out in a pleasured pain. You clenched your teeth instinctively as you tried to brace yourself for his oncoming treatment.

He could feel your heartbeat pulsing around his cock, it was sending him absolutely feral with lust.

Tetcho was typically a very composed and serious man, but when it came to being buried in your cunt entirely, he couldn’t help the primal instincts that racked his body.

The soft material of his trousers were rubbing against your upper thighs as his cock jackhammered like it was the only thing he was good for.

Your body was being rocked back and forth against the desk as he landed another brutal smack to your ass, in the exact same place as last time. His strength was no joke, the tenderness of your ass was a testament to that.

You were tempted to bite down on your lip to keep your noises to a minimum, but you knew that hearing the effect he had on you only fuelled him more, so you let it all go. You screamed, cried, keened and mewled as he showed your body the best treatment he ever had.

Who would’ve thought that finding out that you were actually supposed to be his enemy only proved to turn him on more?

He was not as innocent as he seemed, apparently.

Your toes curled against your fluffy carpet as his hand perpetually came down to spank you, as if you had misbehaved and he was disciplining you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head once more as you couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that sounded foreign to your own ears. You had never felt pleasure like this.

"Turns out you’re just a whore for pain," he grasped your hip and used it as a leverage to up his pace even more, which you didn't think was possible.

"I can tell how much you liked being stuffed with my cock just by how much you’re creaming on it."

You whined in response, squeezing your eyes shut as your thighs and ass jiggled from his brutal pummelling. Your pussy wrapped tighter around his cock from his words alone.

"I said, didn't you?!" he spoke in a stern tone, the spank following ten times harsher than any other he had given you.

You choked on a cry as you tried to suck in a gulp of air through your trembling lips.

"Admit it! Admit you like being fucked by the enemy!" He continued to provoke you as your ass turned red-raw, the skin tingling but he wouldn't stop his punishment.

"I love being fucked by you! I love having my pussy filled by the enemy!” You moaned lewdly, your brain completely scrambled.

"I’m- I’m cumming again! I’m gonna cum on my enemy’s fat cock!" You cried as your entire body filled with heat, your legs shaking violently as you felt your second orgasm punch you and make your mind go white, your ears ringing slightly as the muscles in your calves tensed.

"That’s it! That’s a good little mafia whore!" he growled, his words reverberating through your ears and shooting down your spine in the most pleasant way. His chest filled with an indescribable sensation as he hardened his expression, focusing entirely on filling you to the brim.

Your pleasured moans become pleasured screams as your oversensitive body was trying its best to accommodate him and withstand what he was dishing out.

Tetcho groaned as his head tipped back, letting his cum fill you with his dick pulsing inside of you as he gradually came to a stop.

He stilled for a few moments, holding you to the desk as he composed himself. His cum started to trickle out of you before he pulled his cock out. His fingers scrunched up in your hair lightly before he sighed, letting go of you so that you could be free of the tension.

You gulped for oxygen as he slowly slid his cock back out, you could’ve sworn that drag out was just as heavenly as when he pushed in.

With shaky arms, you tried to push yourself up and stabilise yourself against the surface of the desk. Your hair hung in front of you like a curtain as you panted, eyes planted to the old wood of the desk.

His cum started to drip into your carpet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were stuffed full.

A gentle touch, so opposite to how he was being just a few moments ago, ghosted up your spine with affection.

“A bath?” He cooly, yet tiredly, suggested.

You swallowed, nodding your head, not trusting your voice to quiver under the highs you were still experiencing.

He kissed your shoulder-blade softly, “I don’t care if you’re in the mafia. I want to make this work.”

You hummed in approval, your eyes falling shut as you nodded, “that sounds nice.”

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.07

Decrepit Old Grump

9/29/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,510

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst

A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky is gutted.

He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.

Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.

In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.

Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.

The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.

You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.

Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.

Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.

Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?

The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?

Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.

He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.

With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.

No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?

How much must that be hurting you now?

Idiot.

Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.

He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.

However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.

When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.

You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.

You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?

You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.

How you must not be able to look at him…

The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.

He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.

However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.

He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.

He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.

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The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.

Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.

That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.

Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?

How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.

You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.

You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.

How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.

“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.

You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?

It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.

You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.

“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.

What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?

He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.

“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.

He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.

“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”

Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.

No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.

You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.

It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.

Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.

“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.

Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.

“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.

“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.

The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.

For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.

Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.

“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.

His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.

“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.

You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.

You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.

You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.

“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.

“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.

“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.

Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”

The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.

He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.

You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.

“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.

“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”

You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.

“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.

“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.

He says nothing.

“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”

There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.

He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.

“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.

“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”

He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.

“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”

You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”

His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.

You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.

He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.

He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.

You nod.

“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.

He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.

You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.

Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.

“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.

“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.

“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”

“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”

You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”

“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.

The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.

The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.

Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.

“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.

You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.

As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.

He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.

“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.

The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.

“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.

You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.

Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.

Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.

Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.

His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.

He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.

It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.

Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.

“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”

He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.

He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.

You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.

The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.

The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.

Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.

He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.

He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.

“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.

“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.

As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.

“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.

“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”

“Let me just finish with this trap.”

“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.

You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.

Ten months.

It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.

You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.

There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.

He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.

You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.

With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.

The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.

You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.

You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.

“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.

“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.

“We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”

He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.

Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.

“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.

“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.

“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”

“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”

Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”

Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.

“We should make plans, just in case.”

“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.

“We need to.”

“Not yet.” He insists.

“Bucky.” You press.

“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”

“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”

“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”

“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.

“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”

“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.

A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.

Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”

Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.

“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.

You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.

A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”

No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…

“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”

“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.

Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.

You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.

Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.

“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.

The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.

Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.

“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.

He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.

“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.

“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”

From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.

“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.

“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.

As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.

“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Leviathan's like this, sea serpent-creature yeah? aND he has a tail?? I feel like Levi could breath underwater with all the gills/scales his demon form has, or he's at least insanely fast in water... so if his darling would misbehave I imagine he'd pull them underwater, in a pool the House of Lamentation surely has, and maybe he let's them swim away from him at first, but in the end he'd pull them underwater for a long time :0

This might be the first and last fic I write for Levi, but considering the recent beach event and the mere /idea/ of his tail, it’d be a waste to skip this one. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good scaley boy.

Title: Riptide.

TW: Drowning, Non-Consensual Touching, and Slight Degradation.

~

To be fair, you’d never claimed to be a strong swimmer.

It’s not that you were uncomfortable in the water, nor did you have anything against the sea or sand or whatever slimy, uninvited creature seemed content to spend its day brushing against your ankle whenever you forgot why you were ever unnerved by the ocean. No, you liked the beach, you liked the idea of it. You considered yourself fairly capable, too. Not the best swimmer, but not the worst, either, and certainly not an inept one. You were alright. You were fine.

This was just Leviathan’s habitat, his area of expertise. He’d make anyone look bad, in comparison.

You weren’t weak, he was just too strong.

You heard him before you saw him, a splash and a light, airy chuckle as he emerged somewhere behind you, prematurely amused by your pathetic attempts to tread water. You were already too far from land for your feet to touch, and yet, your oh-so-talented companion had no problem diving below waves and doing what he pleased, even if that only seemed to involve trailing after you and trying not to laugh whenever you lost your composure. He might’ve thought he was helping, keeping an eye on you like a noncommittal lifeguard, but as a lean arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against his chest in a half-hearted effort to keep you above the surface, you hardly felt helped. Patronized, maybe. Encouraged, but in the way a student is encouraged after their first swimming lesson.

The way a child is, when they’re told they only need a little more practice.

“Do you mind?” You snapped, spitting the words before you think to smooth over your temper. You stopped kicking, but only so you could cross your arms and stiffen, intent on making your discontent known rather than keep yourself afloat. “I’m trying to swim, Levi.”

“Emphasis on ‘trying’,” He countered, the sloppy arrogance in his tone quickly becoming unignorable. That was another thing about Leviathan, today, the water seemed to make him more brazen, more confident. And judging by the fingertips beginning to trail up your thigh and the chin soon resting on the dip of your shoulder, more confident translated seamlessly into more touchy. “You looked like you needed a hand. You were struggling - that only makes it harder to fight the current. You should relax.” Easier said than done, when you could feel his bare skin leeching your warmth, pulling the heat from your body like something more inhumane than you’d like to admit. Again, something brushed against your ankle, and you fought the temptation to shiver. You didn’t need him to think you were any more helpless than he already did. “You’re too tense. I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

You didn’t answer, but Leviathan didn’t seem to care. Comfortable or not, he seemed content to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his smile pressing against your skin, the edges of pointed teeth brushing against your jugular. He pulled you closer, and it took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to shove him away. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you weren’t in the mood to be so friendly, either. “We should start heading back.” You meant to sound confident, but your voice came out low, quiet. Too feeble to have an impact. “The others are probably worried. We drifted out pretty far, they might start to think--”

You never got a chance to finish. Without warning, that cold, slick something took hold of your ankle, a tapered tip taking form as it wrapped around your ankle, all scales and taut muscle. You put a name to the appendage a moment later - a tail, Leviathan’s tail, but awareness hardly made a difference. With a single strong jerk, you were pulled below the surface, the shock only made worse by the fact that he wasn’t letting go. Instinctively, you kicked, flailed, found your makeshift restraint and tried to pry it away, but Leviathan never faltered, never loosened his grip, never moved to help you or pull you down further or hurt you. No, he just held you there, letting you panic away your dwindling air supply until your chest began to ache and your eyes stung, tears attempting to form only to dissolve into the sea, water fading into water. You weren’t drowning, not yet, but you were going to. 

You were going to drown, and he was going to let you.

Just as your lungs began to burn, a hand wrapped around your bicep, taking you by the arm and hauling you upward, his tail never falling away but loosening, preparing to if you fought enough to make holding on inconvenient. You took a ragged breath, almost hitched and broken enough to make the inhale worthless, but your body was quick to right itself, to find its rhythm and soothe the raging part of your mind that still insisted you were about to die. Air came and went, but the fear lingered, adrenaline forcing its way into your veins and refusing to leave until you were shaking, trembling, whether in relief or anger, you couldn’t tell. You chose to assume it was the latter, if only because it was so easy to be mad, right now. You wanted to be mad.

Because Leviathan wasn’t smiling, anymore. No, how could expect him to just be smiling?

Now, he was laughing.

“You should’ve seen your face!” If he noticed your distress, he didn’t bother to comfort you. Rather, you were left to grit your teeth as he barely tried to suppress his smirk, making no effort to hide his satisfaction. His reluctance was gone, too, replaced with loose, careless apathy as he pulled you closer, looping an arm around your waist, never giving you the option to move away. Never giving you the chance to. “You just looked so surprised! Serves you right, honestly. Bringing up my brothers, acting so cold…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he nipped at your collarbone, nearly drawing blood. Trying to draw blood. “It’s starting to feel like want to be with them more than you want to be with me.”

“Let go of me.” It was a weak command, mumbled almost inaudibly, but you forced yourself to shake your head and close your eyes, your palm rising to press against his chest almost involuntarily. His fingers dug into your side, and you took the signal not to go any further, but you had to continue. You couldn’t stop yourself. “You attacked me, you tried to drown me. You don’t get to act like--”

This time, he pushed you. It was just a nudge, a slight tap to your shoulder, but his tail did the rest. You did your best to resist, to go against the force pulling you downward, but resilience just meant your back hit the sand harder, that more air was knocked out of your lungs. It was a warning, this time, little more than a hint at the possibility of something worse, but black still lined the edges of your vision as he dragged you back to the surface, his tail rising, coiling, wrapping around your leg until you could feel its blunt point trace shape against the inside of your thigh. Your head still pounded, and your body still hurt, more than it should’ve for such a short submersion.

And you still bit your tongue when Leviathan’s grin returned, more sleek and more sharp than it should’ve been.

More predatory than it’d ever been before.

“That’s it,” He muttered, letting you fall into his arms against the gentle current. “I just want a few minutes. That’s not so bad, is it? A little more time won’t kill you.”

He was right. It wouldn’t.

But, you were beginning to think Leviathan might.

[lakesandquarries]

oh it’s you (that i lie with)

for Oumota Week Day 2 - Timeloop

warnings: major character death (temporary but graphic)

notes: title from as the world caves in by matt maltese but i just listened to the cover by sarah cothran. happy oumota week everyone!! consider joining my oumota discord maybe!

AO3 Link

Kokichi lazily spins a french fry through his ketchup as Momota takes a seat across from him. The movement makes the table jostle. Kokichi doesn’t move.

“Getting used to it, huh?” Momota asks. “I guess this is just life now. Beats being dead, at least.”

“You failed, then?”

“I think every smoke alarm is busted.”

At 6:15 pm, the cafeteria will explode. A stray spark will hit an errant gas line and the entire place will go up in flames. There will be no survivors. 

Kokichi knows this because he has experienced it eleven times already.

The first time was unexpected. Obviously. When he woke up this morning (eleven mornings ago) in his dorm room he assumed today (eleven todays ago) would be normal. 

That assumption was disproven before he died and the day reset, but that’s unrelated.

The first time he died, the last supposedly normal minutes of his life, he and Momota were at this very same table. They weren’t alone then. Their friends had been with them, and Akamatsu had been in the middle of telling a story about a bird flying into the room during one of her classes, and suddenly there had been the loudest sound Kokichi had ever heard. He’d felt an intense, searing heat for just a moment, and then something large and heavy falling on top of him, and then he didn’t feel anything because he was dead.

When he woke up in his bed again he’d assumed it was a dream. Even when the morning played out much like the morning in his “dream” - well, that wasn’t too strange. Saihara had lost his favourite socks, but he did that often. Yumeno fell asleep in the cafeteria during breakfast, but she did that every day. Amami tripped down the stairs and had to go to the nurse, but he never paid attention to his surroundings. 

And then, right at the end of breakfast, Momota got down on one knee, presented Kokichi with a ring pop, and asked him to go on a date with him after dinner.

The beginning of the day had been typical. It wasn’t strange for his dream to match with reality, because his life was predictable.

That was not something he could have predicted, unless he had suddenly developed a new superpower.

The first time, he’d beamed at Momota, took the ring pop, and said he would be delighted to and that if this was a prank he’d have Momota killed.

The second time, he’d just said “What the fuck,” and then took off running.

The rest of the day went differently, but it was just close enough to make it clear. Kokichi had snuck around unused halls, spying on the classes he was skipping. Chabashira still had a five minute argument with the teacher during math, Hoshi still spilled a beaker in science. This time he got to watch Akamatsu’s unfinished bird story play out.

Just like before, he went to the cafeteria, and just like before he felt his bones flattened and then nothing at all.

In the present, whatever that really means, he tells Momota, “I hope I don’t get crushed again.”

Momota frowns. “At least it’s quick. The fire was the worst.”

“Well, I at least want some variety. It is the spice of life and all.”

Leaning forward, Momota rests his chin on his hand. His eyes keep darting to the clock on the wall. “I’ll toss you into the fire this time, if you want.”

“My hero.” Kokichi folds his arms behind his head and leans back.

They’d really tried, this time. They’d tried every time. This time, Kokichi had barely broken into the kitchen when he was caught. At least it was one of the kinder chefs. They’d given him french fries and instructed him to stay in the cafeteria where they could see him. 

“We still have some time,” Momota argues. “I mean, 6:15 is in like, an hour. We can at least prepare for next time.”

“Hm, would you like to scope out some more interesting places to die? I’m getting bored of the cafeteria. At least maybe something different will crush me.” He’s fairly certain it’s a table that keeps killing him, at least in the last few loops. For a second he’d felt the texture of the wood crushed against his face. 

“We’re gonna figure it out,” Momota says. His voice is full of empty confidence, a thin soap bubble that will pop if looked at for too long.

“Well, of course. You still owe me that date, after all.”

Perhaps it’s his imagination, but the glint in Momota’s eyes gets sharper. “I do. I’m a man of my word, you know.”

“You’ve given me your word more than a few times. I think you might owe me a few dates, my dearest Momota-chan.”

Momota’s eyes dart to the clock again, and Kokichi follows his gaze. 5:25.

“I’ll take you on as many dates as you want, Ouma.”

Momota had asked him out again in the third loop, and the fourth. Kokichi had accepted those, though in the fourth one Momota hadn’t bothered to drop to one knee and hadn’t even offered him a ring pop. He’d just turned to Kokichi and asked, “Will you go out with me?”

“I want a ring first,” Kokichi had said in response. 

“A ring,” Momota repeated. “What kind?”

“Grape.”

Momota had presented the ring pop, and Kokichi said yes.

In the fifth loop, Momota got down on one knee again.

“Ouma,” he started.

“Will you go on a date with me?” Kokichi asked. Momota reeled back, looking around the room in surprise. 

“Uh….yeah.” He stood up, blinking heavily. “How -”

“I have my ways,” Kokichi said with a wink. 

He’d skipped his next classes. That had been the first time he broke into the kitchen. He did a decent job sneaking, and his little recon mission was how he figured out the likely cause. He’d only gotten a brief glimpse before the chef kicked him out.

Momota was waiting for him at that same table. “Ouma,” he’d called out, waving him over, and Kokichi obliged him by taking a seat in the same chair he’d died in four times. “Are you hiding something?”

“Always. Are you?”

“You knew what I was doing this morning.”

“I’ve known you were in love with me for months.” Kokichi leaned back in his chair, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. “Obviously I knew what you were doing.”

“But you didn’t! The first - Uh, I mean...Oh, fuck it. You know what’s happening, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He kicked his chair back, balancing it on two legs. He was not going to be the one to say it first, and it was so fun to get him worked up like this. “I mean, I know everything, but -”

“The loops! You’re the only one acting different! The first loop, you were surprised, the second loop you were - and now you’re stealing my lines!” Momota leaned towards him, hands on the table.

Kokichi raised a single eyebrow. “Your first performance was your best, Momota-chan.”

“So you are aware. How?”

The chair’s legs thudded against the ground. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I…” Momota hesitates, bluster wavering before it comes back full force. “Obviously, the universe knew I was the best person to task with fixing this. I’m gonna save everyone, just you watch.”

“Oh, good. I was worried I’d have to do something.” He stood up abruptly, almost knocking the chair over. “I’ll see you for our date, then.”

A hand grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back down. Momota was reaching across the entire table, gripping Kokichi’s sleeve tightly. His brows were pinched together, face unguarded and open and desperate. There was only a second of hesitation before Kokichi ripped his sleeve away, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him.

“You can’t seriously plan to do nothing,” Momota insisted. “There’s gotta be a reason -”

“Maybe I’m supposed to be working against you,” Kokichi said. His expression fell away to blankness. “You’re so eager to trust, Momota-chan. It’s very stupid of you.”

“That shit stopped working on me last year.” Momota jumped to his feet, hands pressed against the table as he leaned dangerously forward. Kokichi doesn’t need to have time traveled to know he will inevitably topple forward and crash into the table. Perhaps he would be the one to die to it this loop. “Ouma, I know you. Fuck, I asked you out this morning, you really think I’m still gonna fall for your evil bullshit?”

“I mean, it’s worked before. Recently, even.”

“You broke in through my window! Look, you’re missing the point. I know you wanna save everyone as much as I do.” His eyes were alight, grin too sharp for Kokichi’s liking.

“It’s in the kitchen.” 

Momota leaned forward again, and there it was - he fell face first onto the table.

“Idiot. Maybe the universe did choose me to help you. You’re clearly too stupid to figure it out on your own.”

Momota didn’t waste a second. He pushed himself back up as Kokichi spoke, completely ignoring his words. “See! We’re a perfect team, Ouma. What’s in the kitchen?”

A mess was in the kitchen. Every surface had at least five distinct fire hazards, and all together it combined into something unfathomably dangerous. A stray spark ignited a chain, and at the end of that chain was a crater.

Since that loop, they’d tried different ways to fix the kitchen. They’d tried scoping out times where no one was there (there weren’t any), they’d tried convincing the chefs something needed to be fixed (they’d been kicked out), they’d tried fixing it themselves (the explosion happened three hours earlier that loop), they’d tried setting off every smoke detector they could find (none of them worked). 

It’s starting to look a little hopeless.

Students begin filing into the cafeteria, happy and carefree and unconcerned. Akamatsu’s voice carries as she rushes to their table. “Ouma-kun, Momota-kun! I was wondering where you’d gone. The strangest thing happened in math earlier -”

Kokichi lays his head on the table. In his mind, he could only see Akamatsu’s broken body, her flesh beginning to bubble. Her screams were always the loudest.

It‘s always the same. Akamatsu starts her stupid story. Saihara arrives late, feathers in his hair, and Harukawa trails after him and glares at Kokichi. 

She usually survives the longest, from what Kokichi can see. She stays standing until the end. Saihara crumbles quick and quiet.

“Are you alright?” Saihara asks as he takes a seat next to Kokichi. 

Kokichi looks up at him. He’s too tired for expressions. “You’re going to die in twelve minutes.”

“Right,” Saihara says, and then he turns to Akamatsu and asks if she can help him get the feathers out of his hair.

They smile, and laugh, and talk, and at 6:15 exactly, that spark is set off.

Kokchi lives a moment longer than the last few loops, long enough to see Momota crushed by a falling piece of ceiling. 

“Liar,” Kokichi says to him, and then he too is gone.

---

He wakes up in bed.

[kyber-kisses]

Going Under

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, spn level gore, drowning

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Square filled: Drowning

Summary: When the reader and Dean are captured by a nest of vamps, things take a slight turn when the readers life is suddenly put in mortal danger. Will Dean be able to save her in time?

“I can’t believe you.”

“Are you seriously going to bring that up right now?” You hissed, eyes blazing as you leaned forward to look at Dean.

“You’re damn right I am!”

“Dean, look around you. Now is really not the time.” You tried to gesture to the room around you but ultimately failed due to your zip tied hands.

So. . . Things may or may not have gone terribly wrong while you, Sam, and Dean were working a case. The three of you had been expecting a few vamps but somehow it had quickly turned into a full nest. One thing led to another, you and Dean were captured and Sam was yet to be found.

“Oh it never is, is it?” He grumbled, his eyes focused on his own restraints as he tried to figure out how to get out. He couldn’t have been more than four feet in front of you, the two of you facing each other. But it wasn’t the person in front of you that had you worried- it was what lay directly behind you.

The two of you were being held in the natatorium of the high school all the victims had attended, the air humid and filled with the strong scent of chlorine. The only lights that were still on were the ones embedded in the walls of the pool, the reflection of the water dancing turquoise on the tiled walls and ceiling. Your captors had yet to come back, the only sound being the lap of water hitting the edges of the pool.

Unlike Dean, you had your back facing the water. The back legs of your chair resting on the lip of the pool. Apart from your hands being bound together with zip ties you also had to worry about your ankles. Thick rope dug into your skin, binding them together. The other end of the rope had been looped through one of the holes in a cinder block, the piece of concrete partially sticking out over the ledge of the pool. All it would take was one small nudge to send you sinking.

Needless to say; this was not an ideal situation to be in. . . And to top it all off, Dean was still mad at you for the so called “hiccup” on the previous hunt.

“I told you, I’m not gonna apologize!” You snapped, leaning forward once more in your chair.

“Well you should! What you did was reckless and stupid!”

“I was saving your fucking life! You could be a little grateful every once and awhile!”

For a split second you expected steam to come out of Dean ears, his jaw clenching as he glared at you. “You jumped into the line of fire!”

“Yeah, to save your ungrateful ass! If I hadn’t done something you would be dead!”

Dean opened his mouth once more to respond, but was stopped short when the doors leading out into the hallway banged open, revealing what had to be the biggest vampire you had ever seen. It was like looking at a six and a half foot tall pillar of solid muscle.

“Well what do we have here?” He grinned, stalking across the concrete floor and towards you and Dean. “A Winchester tied up all pretty for me? It must be my lucky day.”

“And you must be the big ugly vamp I’m about to kill.” Dean fired back, twisting his hands in his bindings. His words getting a loud chuckle from the vamp, but once his amused expression fell he was driving his fist into the side of Deans face, his head being whipped around by the force.You wriggled in your seat, the instinct to kill growing tenfold.

“Hey big guy, hands off him!” You tried to leap up but didn’t get very far with your ankles and wrists bound, the failed action making you drop back into the seat. You could see Dean giving you one of his warning gazes, silently telling you to back off.

The vampire turned, his back now facing Dean as he took a step forward. “And who’s this?” He grinned, grabbing your chin forcefully with a calloused hand.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

The vampire paused, looking back over his shoulder at the struggling Winchester. “Is she yours?”

“I ain’t nobody’s, you big ass freak.” You spat, taking your opening when he turned back to you,and slamming your head into his full force. He stumbled back with a string of curses, hand leaving your chin to slap over the point of contact.

“Why you little-“

“Bitch? I know. Very original.” You deadpanned.

Lowering his hand from his head, the vampire set his gaze on your before bringing hit hand back and connecting it with your cheek in a harsh slap that echoed across the pool. Head knocked back by the sudden force, you stretched your jaw. You gave yourself a moment before looking back up at him, a bloody grin on your face.

“I know pillows that hit harder than you do.”

He raised his fist again.

“I said don’t fucking touch her!” Dean growled, the plastic chair he was bound to creaking loudly as he tried to free himself.

Where was Sam? Sam needed to find them and quick before this dude did anything to permanently harm either of you.

The vamp smiled, clearly getting a kick out of seeing a Winchester squirm in his seat. “This is mildly entertaining to watch.”

“Fuck you.” You snapped, leaning forward once again. All you wanted to do was keep this guy away from Dean.

“Alright, and that’s enough from you.”

What happened next was so quick neither of you had time to properly process what he was doing. The vamp stepped forward and nudged the cinder block with the toe of his boot. The block disappeared over the edge of the formerly still pool with a loud splash and you were pulled back with it. Deans eyes widened in pure terror as you let out the beginnings of a yell before being swallowed by the water as well. It was as if gasoline was poured onto the spark of fear in his belly. One moment he was frozen in shock and the next he was struggling harder than ever before against his bindings, eyes flicking back to the number on the edge of the pool saying his deep it was.

8 feet.

There’s no way your gonna be able to fight yourself to the surface with your ankles bound to that block.

“You son of a bitch- I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Dean hissed. The adrenaline pumping through him was at an all time high. A sudden idea tumbled into his skull and Dean was suddenly planting his feet on the floor and pushing himself back with all the energy he could muster. The plastic chair careened backwards, and between his weight and the concrete flooring, the flimsy piece of furniture broke, pieces of plastic shrapnel flying out across the floor.

Meanwhile, you were struggling. A lot. Your head was pounding, every cell screaming for oxygen as you struggled at the bottom of the pool, your hair rising upwards like seaweed as you tried to break the zip ties, your body arching in your struggle. You tilted your head in the direction of the cinder block, the one thing keeping you from the oxygen your body so desperately needed. It felt like every inch of you was throbbing, your lungs on fire.

When was the last time you were this scared for your own life? You couldn’t remember.

Blackness slowly began to seep into the corners of your vision after a solid thirty seconds of struggling. You needed to breath. You needed to take a breath. And even though you try and fight it, you suddenly inhale whether it’s air or heavily chlorinated water. Just like that a cold flow of water is thrust up your nostrils, a stream cascading into the back of your throat and nose, sending jets of pain through your body. The steady hum of the water in your ears slowly begins to fade into something softer, gradually muting into silence, one with the darkness. You give up on the fighting and thrashing, allowing the water to hold you in a suspended position beneath the surface as everything goes black, your body giving one last spasm before shutting down. . .

Dean rolled to his feet quickly as the vamp lunged at him, using the plastic handles of his chair to somewhat defend himself as the monster attacked. He blocked the first few blows before he lost the upper hand, the vamp bowling him over and sending him sliding across the floor.

“I would just give up. She’s probably gone by now.”

Dean ignored him, crawling to his feet again before slamming into him. Once again, he only got a few punches in before he was pinned beneath the massive body. Solid hands wound around Deans throat, beginning to squeeze. It only lasted a second though before Dean hears the distinct whistle of a blade moving through the air, and the vamps head is suddenly freed from his shoulders, revealing a very bloody Sam behind him.

The younger Winchester let the machete drop from his hands as he pulls the corpse off of Dean, chest heaving. “Where the hell is Y/N?”

Y/N.

Dean is up and on his feet in seconds, rushing across the concrete floor as he quickly shrugged off his jacket before diving into the lit up water of the massive pool. It’s not hard to find you, but the chlorine burns his eyes as he dives to the bottom. The rope keeping you tethered to the cement block is thick, and Dean is thankful for the blade he keeps stashed in the side of his boot.

He works fast, his adrenaline still pumping as he saws through the rope. His lungs have never burned like this before and everything in him is telling him to go to the surface for more air. . . But he doesn’t. After what feels like an eternity the rope finally snaps and Dean wishes he could let out a sigh of relief. Wrapping his arms around your torso he searches for his last bit of strength and kicks upward.

“Dean!”

That’s the first thing he hears when he breaks the surface, taking in lungfuls of air as he tries to tread water. You are dead weight in his arms, and its difficult to keep the both of you above the waterline. Through the water in his vision, he can just barely make out Sam, his brother on his knees at the edge of the pool.

“Sam- help-“

Dean somehow managed to get close enough to the lip of the pool that before he knows it, Sam has his hands underneath your armpits and is hauling you out of what almost feels like a grave. Dean sucked in a breath before bracing his hands on the edge and pushing himself out of the water. Its only when hes on his knees next to Sam that he almost freezes at the sight of you.

Almost.

You look like a rag doll, your body limp and lips a light shade of blue. Fear runs rabid through his body still and just like that he is back in action.

“Sam, cut the bindings on her hands.” Dean spoke quickly as he pressed his ear to your chest.

Heartbeat. He needed a heartbeat.

After a moment he pulled back again, rolling up his sleeves as he started the compressions on your chest.

“You are not allowed to die on me, you hear? And definitely not like this.” Dean huffed. A small part of him was afraid that he might break your ribs with the amount of pressure he was using, but the desperation to see you breath took over and he ignored it.

“Dammit Y/N-“

Tilting your head back slightly, Dean lifted your chin and pinched your nose shut before placing his mouth over yours to create a seal. He gave you two breaths before pulling back and continuing the compressions.

His eyes stayed glued to your face, hoping beyond anything he would see a sign that you were still with them.

Nothing.

And then his mouth was back on yours as he tried desperately to breathe life back into you. “C’mon sweetheart. I got some things to say to you and I can’t do that if your dead.” He pulled back, hands going back to your chest.

Sam let his brother continue the cycle two more times before he was clamping a hand over Deans shoulder.

“Dean-“

The hunter swatted him away, continuing the compressions. “She’s not dead. She’s alive. She’s alive and she’s staying that way!” He panted,ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes as he leaned back down to give you another set of rescue breaths.

Apparently he was right because barely a second after he pulled away, you coughed. . . Or more like slightly gargled. A spray of water leaving your lips as you choked.

“There we go!”

Dean let out a sigh of relief as his shoulders dropped, the hunter helping to roll you to the side as you emptied an unhealthy amount of water from your lungs. His hand rubbing your back softly. Filled with relief he let out a light chuckle, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Unfortunately your body was still too weak to keep you conscious and once the water was out of your system you were slumping back onto the wet floor, your head coming to rest on Deans thigh.

“Y/N?”

“She’s out. But we need to get out of here Dean, I took down a bunch of them but I don’t know how many vamps are still here.” Sam sighed.

There was silence, Dean too focused on the unconscious Y/N in his arms to hear his brother properly.

“Dean!”

Snapping out of his state, Dean looked up- your head resting on the crook of his elbow. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. Hand me one of those towels.” He pointed behind Sam towards the rack, several towels rolled neatly and stuffed into it.

Sam popped up into his feet, quickly retrieving one before handing it over to his brother- who wrapped in snugly around you and then hoisted you into his arms.

“I got ya. I got ya.” Dean breathed, cheek coming to rest on your wet hairline. “We’re gonna get you back to the motel, and your gonna rest up and everything’s gonna be fine.”

He couldn’t tell if he was saying those words to comfort himself or you. Maybe it was both. Both would be preferred.

With Sam taking the lead, the two of them navigated the empty halls of the high school wanting nothing more than to leave it all behind.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

When you first eased into consciousness the first thing your body registered was that you were breathing. And this time it was actual air and not water. The second thing you noticed was that your body felt like lead, even your eyelids were struggling to open. Your fingers wiggled against the soft sheets as you slowly attempted to opened your eyes, the morning light trickling through the blinds of the motel room to illuminate the space.

You tried shifting your position, your body stiff as you let out a groan. Your sudden movement and noise gaining the attention of the other people in the room.

“Y/N?” Suddenly setting down his glass at the small table, he turned towards you, clearly surprised to see you awake. “Hey, how you feelin?” He spoke softly, sitting down besides you on the bed before reaching for your hand.

“What- what happened?”

Bracing your hands on the mattress as you tried and sit up. Dean was besides you in an instant, sticking a pillow behind you before helping you up to lean against the headboard. Why was Dean suddenly being nice to you? Last time you checked he was mad at you.

“You almost died, that’s what happened.” Dean scolded, sinking back down onto the side of the bed.

“Dean-“ Sam began, quickly being cut off by you.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean; almost died?”

“I mean, you almost drowned to death in a pool.”

Dean watched your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Drown? That didn’t make any sense. You knew how to swim. How the fuck could you possible drown?

“What were we doing at a pool?”

“What were we-“ Dean choked on the words, unable to believe you just asked that. “Y/N we were hunting a vamp nest.”

That’s all he had to say before it slowly came back to you. Bits and pieces falling into place. Some parts were still blank, but you remembered a good portion. Dean and you being caught. That big ass vampire. . . Something having to do with a cinder block?

“Wait Y/N, what all do you remember?” Sam spoke suddenly, worry crossing his features.

“Everything up until getting caught. . . And maybe a little more. But I don’t understand the drowning bit.”

Turning his attention from you to his brother, Dean looked at Sam with wide eyes. “Why doesn’t she remember?”

“I mean in some cases of drowning if there’s a lot of water in the system and depending on how long she was under. . . There might be some brain damage.”

“I’m sorry, brain damage?” You and Dean spoke in unison. You sat up a little straighter, suddenly worried.

“I don’t think it’s too serious, but I can call Cas. See if he can’t stop by to check on you.” Already pulling out his phone, Sam left the room leaving you and Dean to sit in silence. It felt like you sat like that forever before anything was actually said.

“Do you have any idea what I’d have to go through if you’d died last night?”Dean spoke suddenly, looking across the bed towards you.

“What?”

“Years of guilt. Crippling, self loathing guilt.” He continued, eyes darting down to look at his hands. “I know what you were trying to do last night. Antagonizing that vamp to keep him away from me. Putting yourself in harms way like you always do.”

Oh. Oh. That’s what this was about. You may not remember last night clearly, but that didn’t mean you didn’t remember the times before. It was what Dean had been angry about before as well.

“Dean-“

“You’re not supposed to die for me, Y/N.” He added. “And neither is my brother. But no matter what I say, or how hard I try to drill it into your skulls, you’re not gonna stop trying.”

“You’re right. I’m not going to stop trying. I love you too much to.” The second it left your lips, you were slamming a hand over your mouth.

Okay so maybe you did have brain damage. There’s no way a sane person would just let it slip they love someone. Nuh-uh. No way.

You watched Dean with wide eyes, trying to judge his expression. His own eyes widening for a moment before a soft and knowing smile fell across his features and he was reaching across to pull your hand away from your mouth. You didn’t realize until that moment how close he really was.

Dean gently leaned in, giving you more than enough time to pull back. . . But you didn't. His lips eventually pressing against yours softly. And no, it wasn't some sort of powerful, passionate kiss. It was a gentle and close-mouthed kiss like you do when you’re in eighth grade and you’ve never held hands before with a boy. It’s almost as if he’s testing the waters, seeing if you really want this. You do. More than anything.

“You know, I’m falling for you so much that it’s freaking me the hell out.” He paused. “That’s why I got mad. I don’t want you getting hurt, especially for me. Now I know that’s no excuse for me being a dick, i just- don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I lost you last night-”

“I wont. . .wait, You're falling for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you hated me?”

“I could never hate you.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro​​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​ @callmekda​​​ @jordangdelacruz​​ @orphiceseum​​​ @andthatsmyworld​​ @marvelfangirllll​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​ @gladiosamicitias​ @castielsangelsx​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​  @totallyluciferr​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​ @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​ @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​ @greenarrowhead​​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​​ @brebolin​​ @biahblue​​ @noahandthegiraffe​​ @hhiggs​​​ @mila-dans​​​ @mrsmaybankhere​​ @malindacath​​  @littleagxs​

[ao3bronte]

Transience

This is my contribution to @mlwriterzine Once Upon A Season! It was a pleasure to be a part of the project and the finished piece (a gorgeous 260 page paperback) was a treat!

Also on AO3!

Adrien is and always has been a young man of many talents. He excels in sports, outshines in academics, and loves tinkering with the vintage 1962 Ferrari he keeps in a secret garage just up the road from their belle-époque penthouse apartment in Paris. So honestly, Marinette shouldn’t have been surprised upon finding a sailing yacht waiting for them in the luxurious marina of Saint-Tropez.

“Um...” Gobsmacked, Marinette slips off her sandals and follows him over the exquisitely varnished toerail, “... since when do you know how to drive a boat?”

“Since I was eight.” Adrien shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Mère loved to come down every year to watch the annual regatta. She even sailed in a few of them herself.”

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyes grow wide as she gawks at the opulent 16 metre sailboat. She’d never dreamt of setting foot on one, let alone cruising on one through the French Riviera for a week on her honeymoon. Elated, Marinette can hardly keep the stars from her eyes as she drops her shoulder bag and scampers across the deck until she reaches the front of the vessel, splaying her arms out wide.

“I’m the king of the world!” she cries, laughing as Adrien runs along behind her and plants his hands on her hips, holding her steady.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She grins into the salty breeze coming off the Mediterranean and steps onto the first rung of the railings. “Just don’t let me fall overboard.”

“You’ll be flying soon, M’Lady.” Adrien pulls her against his chest and presses a kiss to her temple, his stubble scratching softly against her skin. “But first, we have some fenders to collect.”

Marinette blinks. “Uh... what exactly is a fender?”

Adrien’s indulgent laughter echoes in the headsail. “You’re about to get a crash course in Sailing 101, Buginette. Are you ready to be my first mate?”

Marinette spins around in his arms and bops him on the nose. “Teach me everything you know, Captain Kitty.”

Adrien hums, tipping her chin upwards to kiss her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

~

After a few minutes of acquiring her sea legs, Marinette and Adrien Dupain-Cheng are off amidst the serene waves of la Côte d'Azur for a honeymoon trip of a lifetime. Marinette can’t keep her eyes off of the hill-perched towns dotting the coastline, sun-drenched and prismatic against the turquoise waters of the Med. Beside her, Adrien keeps their vessel steady, his seasoned gaze trained on the horizon as they pull out of port and soar northwards, the wind at their every beck and call.

For centuries, every Parisian worth their salt flocked to the French Riviera to soak up the Mediterranean sun and the Agreste’s were no different, once upon a time. Adrien’s childhood memories aboard the Éphémère remind him of bouillabaisse and happier days spent scampering across deck pretending to be a pirate in search of buried treasure. It’s something he hopes he can share with his own children one day, especially now that he and his wife no longer have to spend every spare moment of their lives fighting Hawk Moth.

Sensing her husband’s pensive mood, Marinette snuggles deeper into his side as the afternoon sun begins to dip towards the horizon. She doesn’t need Adrien to assure her that their evenings onboard together will be positively serene with nothing but the seabirds to obstruct the sunset that will surely steal their breath away. He kisses her forehead and hugs her close, his guiding light within the storm that had been brewing since his childhood. After all those years of rough seas at the hands of his father, things were finally settling into an even keel.

Marinette learns the ins and outs of sailing quickly, securing lines and watching for traffic as they navigate along the seaboard of Saint Raphaël . Jibs and boons soon become a part of her vocabulary, and once they've successfully moored in the neighbouring marina, Marinette feels like she's run a marathon.

"That was exhausting," she groans, slumping into the cushions on the sundeck.

Adrien beams, having barely broken a sweat. "Come on; I'll make it worth your while."

Hauling her back onto her feet, Adrien leads her down into the main cabin. All clean lines and warm teak, Marinette leaves her duffel bag on the sofa and explores the spacious interior with curious eyes, carding her fingers through the decades old fashion magazines stacked in a woven basket resting on the floor. He leaves her to explore and hauls their luggage and a cooler down the ladder, filling the marine fridge with fixings for their first dinner outside of Paris. It's peaceful, with nothing but the sounds of the waves to keep them company.

The lights are warm and low in their galley kitchen, a cozy escape from the endless vistas of rocky crags and pastel-orange buildings whose narrow streets spill into the sea. Their table is just large enough for two wicker placemats and a bottle of Mouton-Cadet; old vases filled with seaglass and shells rest on every side table, their edges wrapped in nautical rope. By the counter, Marinette grates a snowy pile of Pecorino cheese over a mound of steaming spaghetti while beside her Adrien grinds fresh pepper into a ramekin, his stomach growling after an afternoon spent at sea. A comfortable silence ebbs and flows between them as the evening tide laps against the hull, drawing them towards the tangy, indulgent nest of cacio e pepe they made together.

~

Marinette wakes the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and a deftly wrapped gift on the bedside table of their lavish master cabin. Slipping her bare legs across the silk sheets as she sits up, she opens her present and plucks one of her own Chat Noir inspired creations from the tissue paper along with a note attached inside.

Care to go for a dip with me, M’Lady?

Marinette snorts and ties the black and neon green bikini up at the neck and hips, leaving a few very tantalizing strings to pull should Adrien let his feline instincts get the best of him. Goodness knows he wouldn’t be able to resist himself, what with the way he could hardly keep his hands off of her last night while they were trying to find a deck of cards in the saloon. She glances at herself in the mirror to wipe the sleep from her eyes and quickly fastens her hair into a loose ponytail, ready to tease her husband senseless.

“Welcome to Cannes!” he announces as she emerges from below deck, mesmerized by the morning sun illuminating his blond hair like a halo. He’s gorgeous in every sense of the word, thoughtful and generous and unfailingly kind, and even in his darkest moments, he never ceases to steal her breath away.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his chinos, “but not as beautiful as you.”

A ruddy flush blooms across his cheeks, a constant victim to her soft-spoken praises. “I can hardly compete against you, Buginette, especially when you’re wearing that.”

“I don’t know...” She grazes her fingernails against his bare chest and smirks as the familiar rumble in his sternum kicks into low gear. “I think the sun suits you.”

“Enough to consider moving down here for good?”

Marinette shrugs; keeping their lives rooted in Paris has been a point of contention between them since the arrest of his father. “Not permanently, no, but I wouldn’t protest if we vacationed here more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you overwork yourself,” he responds, closing his eyes as she continues to explore the chiseled planes of his abs. She’s always been gifted when it comes to distractions and this morning is no different; like wayfaring on a starless night, she’s always been the beacon to guide his way. “Now, I thought I invited you up here for a swim?”

“You did.” Marinette steps back, giving him the merciful reprieve he’d needed to calm his beating heart. “And it is kind of hot up here.”

His grip on the ship’s wheel tightens. “No thanks to you.”

“Easy there, Captain Kitty.” Marinette smirks, flicking the golden bell sewn to the bridge of her bikini top. “Race you!”

“Hey!” he gapes at her, scandalized. “I still have to drop anchor!”

Marinette giggles as she zooms past him, leaping off the back of the boat with delight. “Last one in the water has to make breakfast!”

~

Meandering through the Medieval streets of the old city, Marinette and Adrien pause to catch a glimpse of Villefranche-sur-Mer ’s idyllic harbour. There’s an enormous cruise ship dominating the horizon and Adrien is thankful that they’d brought their disguises in tow. No one has recognized either of them with the way they’ve camouflaged themselves in their floppy beach hats and oversized sunglasses.

Marinette spends the afternoon popping in and out of boutiques with turquoise shutters, snapping photos and picking up little trinkets along the way. They stop for lunch at a peaches-and-cream couloured bistro nestled against the water’s edge, its open windows basking the sunlit stone walls with salt-scented air. Adrien joyfully devours his meal, a simply grilled loup de mer with fennel and lemon, while Marinette chatters over a bowl of Niçoise octopus salad that she had been eager to try since spotting it on the chalkboard menu outside.

“It feels weird, not having them around.” Adrien balances a piece of julienned fennel between the tines of his fork. “It’s the first time I’ve taken my ring off in ten years.”

“I promise you, Tikki and Plagg are appreciating their vacation too,” Marinette assures him around a mouthful of cherry tomatoes. “They deserve a break after what happened. We both do.”

Adrien nods and is quiet for a while.

~

“When I was a kid, I used to watch the cliff divers jump into that cove,” Adrien mentions as they sail by, pointing towards a sharp craig jutting from the coastline. “I always wanted to do it myself. Maybe I will.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want now.” Marinette smiles into the wind, the skirt of her sundress billowing up passed her thighs. “So chart us a course, Captain Kitty. Where are we going next?”

“First, we’re stopping in Èze .” Adrien brushes his bangs from his eyes and relishes in being at the helm of transience. “There are galleries all over the place that I know you’ll love. And we have a dinner reservation. I thought you’d appreciate the view.”

Marinette lowers her sunglasses. “I like the view here just fine, thanks.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Adrien smirks and snags her by the hips, easily hauling her up onto the dash of the cockpit. She squeals as he savours the salt on her skin as he plants a kiss on her knee in mock apology. “There. Now I have you right where I want you.”

She kicks and he dodges easily, catching her foot with lightning fast reflexes born from being merged with the Black Cat Miraculous for so long. It’s a familiar song and dance between them, a playful contest sparking in their eyes as he peppers kisses along her ankle, her calf, anywhere he can reach. He stops just shy of the constellation of freckles at the hem of her dress and makes eye contact through his lashes, flashing her a mischievous Chat Noir smile. “I wonder if you’re ... ticklish?

Marinette shrieks as Adrien starts tickling her toes, running his fingernails up and down the arches of her feet. She’s tortured him a thousand times by attacking his sides when he least expected it so he figures it’s about time he seeks revenge. “Adrien! Stop!”

He doesn’t, of course, and chooses to memorize each and every facet of her beauty instead; her smile and her pained laughter, her marks and scars from the final battle only a month before their wedding day. “I’m never letting you go!”

“You’re going to— stop it! —have to if we ever want to get to Èze .” Marinette manages to wrench her ankle free and hops down from the ledge, landing easily in his outstretched arms. “That is, unless you want to crash.”

“If we shipwreck,” Adrien bends low and devours that little spot on her neck that makes her weak every time, “promise me you won’t hog the whole door?”

Marinette bursts into laughter. “Are we seriously going to have this debate again?”

“I’m serious! Jack could have totally fit on that— mmpf! ”

Cupping his cheeks, Marinette hurriedly kisses away the space between them and silences his long-winded debate once and for all. It’s an effective way to shut him up—all things considered—and an astonished gasp spirals from his lips as she hoists herself up his body and brackets his hips with her thighs. She claims him, covets him, her tongue sweeping across his lower lip, and he’s helpless to her siren’s song as he braces her against the cockpit’s controls and clings to her like a drowning man.

“Alright, you win.” Breathless and lightheaded, Adrien pulls back after a while just to soak her in, to remind himself that he’s married to the most beautiful woman in the world. He gazes in awe as she recovers, her flushed cheeks and parted lips swollen and wet. Adrien is drawn back in like a magnet, kissing her with every intention of stealing her breath away.

She buries her hands in his hair, her nails gently scraping against his scalp as Adrien all but melts in her embrace, groaning with pleasure. He deepens their kiss, and Adrien feels drunk with his desire to claim, their passion speaking more than words between them ever could. Every gasp and moan conveys their everlasting partnership and the terror of nearly losing one another in the whirlwind. Shell-shocked and injured, they still held their wedding ceremony, even as the fallout had tugged at their ankles, gossip and chaos pooling around their feet. Together, they’d inherited an empire he’d never wanted in the first place, thrusting them into a world unprepared and raw with nothing but each other as a tether in the storm.

“I love you,” she murmurs against his lips, her heartbeat hammering a tattoo inside her chest. He can feel it against his own, fast and strong and wonderfully alive. “We’ll get through this; together.”

Later, as they draw nearer to the charming port town of Èze, Adrien draws her close and hopes she never leaves his side. “Where to, Miss?”

Marinette smiles. “To the stars.”

~

Nothing comes so abundantly as time when you’re sailing through the seemingly endless vistas of the Med. Their honeymoon stretches on for longer than a week simply because it can; he owns their floating home-away-from-home and she’s working remotely, snagging a Wi-Fi signal whenever they’re in port.

Neither of them seem to be in any hurry to leave the solace of the French Riviera behind. It’s where he’s feasted on fresh seafood and felt better than he has in weeks. It’s where they’ve kissed and made love under the stars a thousand times over. It’s where he’s confessed his doubts about living in Paris and where she’s supported his struggle to leave his father behind.

They’re moored in Antibes tonight and the skies are awash in vibrant pinks and apricot. He drizzles balsamic vinegar onto a shimmering pond of Italian olive oil; she wears hair pins with flowers on them and pours wine like an expert, heedless to the way he’s staring at her like she’s his only source of air.

“I love you,” he whispers. It’s enough.

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 01 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 10.4k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

a/n: a repost of my old fic!

There are different types of crushes in the small world of your university; some crush on the most materialistic things like his looks, outfits, and wealth, whereas others crush for the sake of blending in with the rest of their friends whom never seem to stop fawning over him as he walks by without a clue of their batting eyes. And even though you’re just one of the countless girls waiting and watching and hoping for just a mere glimpse of him around campus, you like to think that you’re different from the rest.

Jung Hoseok is one of the very rare few who has managed to capture your heart. He’s the captain of your school’s dance club, the son in law any parent can only dream of in the the sweetest of dreams, and the notorious heartthrob whose mere presence melts any girl into a puddle of unrequited, mushed feelings. And out of all the choices you have in this ever growing community of yours, you just have to fall for him—the most popular one in the market.

From the light jump in his every step which bobs to the inaudible beats echoing in his eardrums both inside and outside of practice to the mysterious dark tint laid hidden beneath his warm, brown eyes which makes you internally scream for help if you’re even lucky enough to meet his gaze, everything he does makes it impossible to deny the overwhelming charisma that just oozes from his very being.

But despite all the unbelievably attractive sides to him which pulls girls at every corner of the school, what truly captivates you isn’t his alluring gaze or his breathtaking dances but rather the subtle, heartwarming sides to him not many know him for. The way he stops in the middle of the hallway to help a stranger gather the dozens of pencils someone else had carelessly knocked out of his hands, the way he welcomes each and every student to the dance club regardless of their popularity or experience, and the way he smiles as bright as the sun from ear to ear even though you just know the burdens that come with being the upcoming dance captain must be gnawing away at his very patience are what makes him different from the others.

A year and a half of crushing on this boy whose league is on an entirely separate level of yours, and you still have no regrets…

...even if to him, you’re just another one of his many fangirls.

Nonetheless, you still remember the exact day you fell for him. The fateful night starts on October 20th, just another usual Friday after class.

-

Striding down the hallways with notebooks in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, you take a deep breath and sigh to release the pent up stress and tension that had crept up into your aching shoulders. You’ve just finished sitting in on a one and a half hour long lecture before gathering your things as you bid your good friend, Junghwa, goodbye and exit the musty classroom. The halls are much dimmer than usual due to the school’s constant delay of fixing the flickering ceiling lights, but luckily the fluorescent light flooding through the clear windows from the rising moon is enough to keep you from heading astray on your way back to the dorms.

If it weren’t for Junghwa, you would’ve dropped out long ago and opted for your daily naps after class, because after all, night lectures have become the bane of your existence—or at least up until the few hours left of tonight. Because at the end of the hall is the dance studio where the renowned dancer of the school practices in every Friday night, and what awaits you at the end of the lengthy hall is a memory which will continue to burn in every second of your conscious for the years to come.

Approaching the light which rushes out of the ajar door of the practice room, you slow down your pace, hide behind the mask of the door, and peek your head out to glimpse at the charming boy you’ve heard of from all corners of the school. You’ve done this countless times before; the blaring, bass heavy music which blasts from the room and into the halls became the first reason to your rising curiosity, and the undeniable force and tug of your heart which pulls you towards the room in anticipation of the closing proximity between you and the boy becomes your second, inexhaustible reason to your growing affections. And usually you’d take a quick peek and gape in awe before departing from your short detour to head home, but tonight, things seem to take an unexpected turn—whether for the better or worse, you still can’t decipher.

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to come in and dance with me?” the boy teases with a light, playful tone to his out of breath voice. 

The swift, unbelievably intricate movements of his manage to strike you silent as you stare on in awe, a few seconds passing by as you failed to register that the dart-like focus of his intense gaze at the mirrors before him had disappeared when he paused his routine to divert his attention to the girl shyly standing behind the doors.

“H-huh?” you stutter with widened eyes.

“Are you here to spectate or dance?” he grins while repeating the question. With cheeks raised and radiance flashing from his award worthy smile, sweat trickles down his forehead to his temples and peaks through the hanging armholes of his muscle tank. And before you knew it, all the air within your lungs are knocked out and any form of coherent words are slipped from your scrambled mind. He gives you a throaty chuckle, his eyes forming elegant crescents as he did so, and walks over towards you to swing the door wide open. His sudden actions catch you off guard as the loss of balance causes you to tumble forward into the room. “Wanna join me?”

His hands are reached out towards you for you to take and an expectant grin adorns his soft, smooth lips, but there is nothing neither you nor him can do to snap you out of your daze. You point at yourself and peer up at him with blankly blinking eyes, knees feeling weak, and butterflies fluttering nonstop in your stomach. “M-me?”

“I don’t see anyone else here,” he chortles, peeking out into the hallway as though to search for your partner in crime. He turns back at you to grin even wider, one hand on his hips and the other running through his dark brown hair. “Yeah, you.”

“I-um-I can’t dance,” you blurt out with the shake of your head. A gulp runs down your knotted throat with every second he gazes down at you with the warm, half lidded eyes of his from above. Now you understand everything everyone had been swooning over; a mere glance of his and you’re already melting onto the floor in awe. He’s simply oozing of charm.

“That’s fine. I can teach you,” he assures you with his velvety voice which only makes your heart flip a thousand times. He grabs your hand and engulfs you with a kind of warmth indescribable by words, pulling you farther into the room and gently kicking the door closed behind the two of you in the empty dance studio. His slender, lengthy fingers intertwine so perfectly with yours and his hold is so firm and unhesitant that you’re forced to convince yourself that he’s either done this a thousand times before or he’s not even a bit as phased by your presence as you are by his.

The boy gently pulls you towards the center of the wooden dance floor before turning the both of you to face the mirrors which surrounds and lines every wall in the room. “The name’s Hoseok,” he chimes, needlessly introducing himself even though over half the students in this damn school knows of him. “You?”

“Huh? Me?” your eyes pop open as you foolishly gawk at him in silence. Is the Jung Hoseok really asking you for your name? Does this mean the two of you are officially acquainted? What will the rest of the girls do if they are to find out about tonight?

“Have you forgotten your name already?” Hoseok laughs raising his brow and stretching his already grinning lips in a gesture to patiently wait for your answer. The longer you lock eyes with him, the hotter your cheeks become. You swear looking into the mirrors will only confirm your suspicion and your heart rate skyrockets just thinking that Hoseok can more than likely notice the burning red tints of your cheeks.

“Oh, um, Y/N,” you bashfully glance down at the ground.

“Well, Y/N,” his gaze never leaves you as he chimes, “let’s learn how to dance, shall we?”

Time passes by quicker than you wished for it to be, albeit the moments when he passes on the spotlight to you and intently observes your very own dance moves manages to drag each second into agonizingly slow ticks of the clock as your cheeks burn brighter than the sun on a clear summer day.

The music continues to loop in the background as he strides around you in circles, the heavy bass vibrating from the blaring speakers in the four corners of the room and making its presence known in your eardrums. With his fingers cupping his chin and his eyes narrowing to scan your still body up and down, he intently observes and pinpoints corrections needed to be made of the pose you’re striking.

“Not bad, not bad,” Hoseok muses with the bob of his head. Taking a step forward, he gently props his fingers under your right elbow to raise your arm an inch higher. “There. Perfect.”

He’s circling around you, poking at your arms and nudging your legs with his feet until finally reaching a satisfactory point in perfecting this split second of a two minutes worth of choreography. Through your peripherals, you can see the crease between his furrowed brows and the dark focus of his eyes gazing down at your straining legs, and you can’t help the blood which rushes to your cheeks and flows from your pumping heart. Something about the way he’s so passionate of his work, so patient in sharing it with others outside of his world of dance, and so focused in perfecting every single second of a routine neither he nor you would be performing in front of others, something about his everything makes your heart hammer against your chest and your lungs struggle for oxygen.

With sweat trickling down his drenched bangs and eyes down at the floor, it’s impossible for you not to succumb to your inner desires as a mysterious force constantly pulls your line of sight towards his. And so being the indiscrete person you are, you take a quick glimpse at Hoseok and it takes everything in you not to burst out in squirms from the overwhelming butterflies which flutter throughout your entire system. You’re averting your eyes between him and the mirror lying a few feet in front of you when they finally lock gazes with his on its fifth round trip back to paradise.

“Is there something on my face?” he quirks a brow, releasing a small chuckle from his crooked smile. He cups your chin with his fingers and turns your head towards the mirror in front of you. “You should be looking there, not here.”

The knot in your constricted throat prevents you from an easy gulp as your widened eyes meet the ones in your reflection. Did Hoseok really just catch you staring at him with ogling eyes? Why on earth are you stupid enough to even consider the possibility of getting away with your more than obvious glances? But before you’re allowed enough time to panic over your idiocy, Hoseok takes a few steps back before breaking the silence held between the two of you.

“Ba, ba, ba,” Hoseok calls out the beats to the track echoing in the enclosed room, swiveling through the choreography like it’s just another one of the routines he can do in his sleep. And so, you follow along with his motions, putting every bit of effort and courage into your movements in an attempt to keep up with him.

Staring at the mirror, it’s impossible for you not to notice the evident gap in skills between you and the soon to be dance captain. And to be quite frank, there’s nothing anyone can do to prevent your confidence from crumbling and your self consciousness from growing regardless of how reassuring and patient Hoseok has been treating you throughout the session.

But even through all that, even through how tightly clamped your lips are and how flared your cheeks are in embarrassment, a part of you manages to convince yourself that this is a once in a lifetime experience. It’s better to be teased down to your very bones than to catch split second long glimpses of this boy for the rest of your duration in school. Not many get to be as close to Hoseok as you are at this point in time; so as much as you’re mentally beating yourself for your major mistake, a larger part of you is grateful enough to have Hoseok’s teasingly lighthearted laughs become soft music to your ears.

Seconds become minutes, minutes become hours, and before you know it, the both of you are sprawled across the dance floor and panting for your life.

“I’m exhausted,” you barely manage to say through countless huffs. Your cheeks are burning red for a different reason now; somehow along the way, Hoseok had managed to pull you out of your shell and convince you to show him everything you’ve got without a trace of worry in your head. Wiping your dry forearm across your forehead drenched with your sweat, you let out a loud sigh along with the tension piled within your chest. “I’m sorry captain, but I don’t think I can move.”

Hoseok turns his head as he lied down next to you on the floor, giving you a throaty chuckle at your remark. “I think you’ve done enough to deserve a break,” he presses his lips into a lopsided smile, “let’s call it a day then.”

“Thank God,” you breathe out, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself to finally rest in peace.

“But in return...” he interrupts your short lived rush of relief, and your eyes pop open with worry. He lightly cackles at your reaction, a smile stretching from ear to ear plastering across his face. “...you have to join the club.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoff, gawking at him despite the batting eyes of his. You cross your arms over your chest and quickly shake your head. “No way. I only agreed to tonight’s session because you literally dragged me into this.”

“Only because you were standing outside and peeking in,” he defends himself with widened eyes, as though he’s being accused of the highest of crimes. “I asked you what you were doing, but you didn’t say anything! So I thought that maybe you were just too shy to ask about the club. It’s happened to lots of girls I see standing outside the room.”

You press your lips into a thin line and internally point out the flaw in his theory; the numerous girls he has spotted in the past weren’t there for club membership, rather they were there for the most clueless boy there could be… unless sightseeing the extravagant view of the upcoming dance captain counts as a club.

“Surely, you don’t actually think they’re here for that, do you?” you frown.

He breaks into a short series of laughs, looking up at the ceiling with wandering eyes before turning back to return home to the gaze of you.

“No, but I like to think it’s for that reason,” he flashes the smile you’ve come to fall head over heels over and something in your chest falls when your heart practically melts into a puddle of indescribable feelings. He reaches out his pinky towards you, an expectant grin pairing up with the sunny expression of his crescent, smiling eyes. “So, is it a promise, Y/N?”

Pursing your lips, you stare at the long, slender pinky just an arm’s length away from you and shift to his glimmering eyes which never leaves yours for even a second. Even with the sweat glistening on every inch of his face and his sweaty hair slicked into narrow bundles of locks, he’s still smiling through it all like there’s no tomorrow. With him, you no longer believe in the cliches of the world. Terms like the calm before the storm are insignificant, because it’s simply inaccurate. Hoseok is the definition, the proof of that very belief; he breezes through the storm like the sun hidden beneath the gray clouds looming over the dark sky, and regardless of the storm’s havoc, the ball of everglowing shine retains its claim to its right of day. He’s practically as beautiful as the sun—no, he is the sun of your small universe.

And you just can’t deny the order of law, the undeniable forces of Mother Nature.

So without another second to waste, you reach your hand out to hook your pinky firmly around his; and it fits perfectly like the gravitational force between the moon and the sun.

“Alright, I promise.”

And just like you promised, you grab your first chance to fulfill your side of the offer on the very next Monday which arrives. Throughout the past few days since that fateful Friday night, you've been praying and jumping and squirming around your dorm with endless jitters that came from reminiscing over the two hours of time frame you had shared with Hoseok. The scene persisted to replay in the back of your mind, most of time making its presence well known when you'd randomly squeal in the middle of class and eliciting worried glares from Junghwa. And even at this very moment when you're walking down the halls and approaching the familiar doors, your heart is still jumping in both fear and hope for Hoseok to be there practicing his usual routines—and maybe just a small part of you wishes he's as hopeful to see you as you are to see him.

Peeking your head from behind the door, your eyes glide throughout the room, roaming around until it easily spots the boy who’s been the only one filling your head with thoughts that make you squeal and roll around in bed from overheating. All the sunlight create a spotlight on him and only him as it pours through the open blinds of the windows lining against the opposing wall and above the tall mirrors. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you like to think that this one boy has gained the attention and admiration of even the sun itself. The sunlight shines against his dark brown hair, highlighting the golden hues underneath, and with his beaming smile which brightens the entire room, you swear he’s practically glowing.

Unfortunately for you, your arrival goes unnoticed as Hoseok’s focus remains unbroken; his eyes are on his own reflection in the mirror, never budging even an inch to glimpse at the newcomer, and his movements never halt for even a second to pay any attention to his surroundings. Instead, another equally famed member of the club approaches you from his side.

“Are you interested in joining our club?” the girl enthusiastically questions with the most welcoming of smiles adorning her lips, her voice as raspy as the dry desert and as sleek as the starless midnight skies.

Your eyes pop as they scan her up and down, gawking when you finally register the fact that the current captain of the dance club is standing right before you. She’s towering over you as she peers down at you with her back upright but her shoulders slightly slouched enough to enforce the aura of her naturally casual aura. The toned muscles of her incredibly long legs are emphasized by her tight black running shorts, a white crop top ending just above her belly button reveals the abs every boy and girl at school continues to ogle over, and her short, black hair paired along with her sharp winged cateye epitomize the very definition of chic. She’s confident in every way possible, and you can’t help but gasp in awe.

There’s no way you can compete with a girl like her. Hoseok must be one of the many boys swooning over the ever so popular dance captain, especially when she’s the very person preparing him for his takeover of her role. You just can’t. You figure you have to give up or this will just end up in even more heartbreak incited by false hopes later down the road.

“U-um, no,” you quickly shake your head after a sudden change of plans, averting your eyes to the ground when you realize just how long she’s been smiling at the more than obvious admiration flickering in your shifty gaze.

“Oh, c’mon. Are you sure you don’t want to? I promise it’ll be fun!” she encourages.

“N-no, I’m good. Thanks though,” you quickly mumble, but the second your refusal slips from your lips, you’re crestfallen by your own conflicting decisions. Contrary to the first few minutes where you had just met Hoseok, now you’re actually dying with utter desire to join the club—especially if it means more chances to catch glimpses of the ethereal allure of Hoseok. And so before you know it, you’re leaning ever so slightly to your right to catch a last, longing glance at the boy who now seems like a distant dream.

The captain cocks her head to the side, the choppy ends of the bangs of her bob cut swaying along the force of gravity as she blinks at you with intently observing eyes. “Ah… you’re here for other reasons, aren’t you? Well, you’re not the first, and you surely won’t be the last. Hobi sure is popular,” she remarks with the purse of her lips.

Your head snaps up to stare at her wide eyed, attempting to convey to her the fallacy of her claim despite just how accurate it actually is. But even though ever part of you is urging your lips to formulate the words to deny her statement, all that runs through your head is a thought which tugs at your heartstrings for a reason unbeknownst to you. 

Ah, she called him Hobi. 

Is that his nickname? Is that what the fellow members of the club calls Hoseok? Or is it a name reserved for the soon to be former captain and her replacement? As guilty as it makes you for believing you’re entitled to even have an opinion on their relationship, you still can’t help the twisting of your guts and the drop in your stomach at the thought of just how fondly they must treat each other.

You’ve never been the jealous type before, but it blows your mind with utter disappointment at no one but yourself for how heartbroken you are over a boy you barely know.

Fortunately for you, the captain points a thumb over her shoulder and back at the boy hard at work dancing in the background in a successful attempt to regather your diverting attention before you can delve into a pitfall of toxic jealousy and yearning for something that never belonged to you in the first place. “I’ve never offered this to any of the other girls before, but you’re special. I’ll let you in here as long as you don’t tell Hoseok your true motive,” she winks at you with the click of her tongue, lowering her voice into a whisper. “It'll be just like a front seat view of a booked concert.”

You gulp at her enticing offer. How can she so easily see right through you? Not only is she exuding of confidence and unreal grace but she's also as charismatic and kindhearted as her pupil. Both you and the rest of the entire University know she's a literal goddess. There's nothing not to like. Pursuing—no, even befriending Hoseok when there's already someone like her by his side is a lost cause bound to an inevitable heartache.

“Oh, I'm alright. Really,” you let out a nervous laugh and shake your hand in refusal before clearing your throat, “I-I have to get to class now.”

She quirks a brow at your sudden departure, an amused grin adorning half of her lips. “Well okay, but if you ever change your mind, feel free to contact me. Just ask around here for Keiko.”

You quickly nod with a timid, pressed smile before giving her a small wave goodbye and scurrying off down the hallway. Ducking your head low with your eyes glued to the ground, you pass by the incoming students actually on their way to class, whereas you retreat back to your dorms. Every step you take only worsens the itch within you to return to find Keiko and take up her tempting offer.

What makes it even worse is the panging guilt which causes a toll on your dragging feet when you recall just how overjoyed and radiant Hoseok had been smiling the other day after convincing you to join him in the club. What would you do if you were to ever face him again? Who are you to entitle yourself to another meeting with the ever so popular boy before countless girls lining up by the dance room? Especially when you can’t even keep your side of the promise? And so without another hesitation in your heavy footsteps, you bury your inner desires into the back of your mind and persist to distance yourself as far as possible from him.

It’s a foolish idea anyways. Joining a club and dancing for the sake of—what? Befriending the boy you’ve been crushing on for a year now? You’re certainly not the first one, and as Keiko said before, you won’t be the last. What exactly are you hoping for anyways? Friendship? Or something beyond that? You ask yourself all these pointless questions despite knowing the answers to them all. 

And as much as you hate to admit it yourself, you know you’ve been dreaming of developing something beyond mere friendship; you've secretly been hoping that somehow you’d be different from the dozens of other girls who wishes for the same dreams. But you aren’t different. Harsh reality reminds you that, no, this isn’t a fairy tale, and you most certainly aren’t the main the character waiting to be swept off of her feet by prince charming.

So instead, you make a vain attempt in convincing yourself that you’re content with admiring from afar. These longing feelings of yours will be buried deep into the past along with the memories of that very night you just can’t seem to throw away despite how much you know they’ll come back to bite you with guilt and regret over a decision you made from insecurity.

You repeatedly tell yourself it’s a minor, temporary flutter of affections that will pass with time, and yet you can still remember every last detail of his imagery in spite of it all. The hairband peeking from underneath his slightly crimped hair which reflects a golden shine off the sunlight, the black and golden sweatshirt and basketball shorts which sway every which way of his movements, and the breathy pants and smiles as he dances to his heart’s content, you remember everything.

And even though you promise yourself that you'll never venture further into these developing affections for the school's heartthrob, the memory of the bright sun still burns in the back of your mind for many more months to come; because at some point in time, he became the sun of your universe, and the sun never strays too far from its galaxy.

-

Keeping to your promise, it's been nearly a year since you last saw Hoseok during dance practice. It was nearly impossible for you not to succumb to the nagging feeling which tugged at every inch of you to pay Hoseok the shortest of visits, even you are surprised by how long you held out in the past months. But luckily for you, other than occasionally seeing him around campus outside of the dance room, the only connection you and the other girls had with him was by word of mouth.

At first, the start of the new school year started off with constant stream of news regarding the new dance captain and his crew’s plans for the upcoming season. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and anticipation for the undeniable talent soon to come. As much as Keiko, the previous captain of the team, was loved, people were looking forward to the fresh ideas Hoseok had been planning for months. And to your relief, he held up to this expectations—in fact, he blew any sort of competition or wariness out of the water, proving he was indeed deserving of the position. You were proud, so incredibly proud of him despite barely even having a connection to the thriving captain. But nonetheless, you were beaming with pride for at least a month long into the school year.

Then came the second half of the year when commotion died down and news of Jung Hoseok dissipated into thin air. Lately, you haven't heard much from Junghwa who always seems to have the latest update on practically everything. The club's activities have been depleting along with the whereabouts of its captain. Heavy bass and catchy beats no longer blare from the now empty dance room. You've never stepped into the room for longer than the duration of your time with Hoseok, but the sudden change of its atmosphere even saddens you at heart.

Some say he's switched majors and others say he's ran out of inspiration, but the most “accurate” or “confirmed” rumor as Junghwa likes to call it is that he's simply taking a break to pick up his pitfall of grades. You know rumors aren't the most reliable sources, but they're the only things which make you feel at ease and relieve you of the constant urge to run up to him to apologize for your year long delay, making sure that reality lines up with rumors. Because even if you wanted to find him for these reasons, you wouldn't know where to start searching.

Fast forward a couple of months to make a full year since that one night which remains lingering in the back of your conscious and you’re now sitting at a cramped up restaurant with drinks in your hands and friends who’ve taken one too many shots surrounding you. Tonight is just another one of the many nights out with your gals, drinking away your worries and heartache until one or the other begins to collapse and you end up having to restrain yourself to bring them home. Nonetheless, nothing stops you from coming out to have a good time with your friends and neither do others, as this is a popular store for nearly bankrupt students at your university.

Clinks of utensils against plates and cups against cups fill the rowdy atmosphere as you and Junghwa join in by doing a round of cheers. With the dim ceiling lights brightening the red wine hues of the four walls and meat constantly sizzling in the background before a metallic cooking pan on each of the six rectangular tables in the store, you and your friends down yet another shot of beverage—some consisting of alcohol and others, like you, absent of said content.

“Cheers for surviving another semester of pure torture!” Junghwa shrills happily in her drunken state, eyes squeezed tight and mouth agape as she raises her cup triumphantly into the air.

“Cheers to Junghwa for not failing school!” Hani squeals, leaning in from across the table to clink her glass cup against yours. Junghwa snaps her head to glare and gawk at Hani, obviously offended by her friend’s remark.

“Oh yeah? Well cheers to Hani for finally getting herself a boy and not dying alone!” Junghwa huffs, roughly tinkling her cup with yours and nearly spilling your soft drink all over your jeans.

“Or how about you two get ahold of yourselves? You almost spilled my drink,” you exasperate, grimacing at the pout on their faces. Sipping what little is left in your cup, you slam it onto the table and loudly sigh. “Are you guys free this weekend? I don’t have anything tomo-”

“-yah, isn’t that Jung Hoseok and his friends?” Junghwa interrupts you with a hiss, her eyes popping open along with Hani’s gaping mouth.

“What?” you knit your brows, turning your head to glare at your friend and avoiding the possibility of locking gazes with the boy you’ve been avoiding for months now.

“Where? Where?” Hani exclaims, leaning into the table.

“Yah, yah, yah, don’t be too obvious-”

“-yahhh, it really is!” Hani gasps in amazement after ignoring Junghwa by doing the exact opposite of what she requested, whirling around to narrow her impaired eyes at the table behind her before hustling back around. Contrary to your spike of panic, Junghwa only rolls her eyes and lets out a series of giggles under her breath.

“Hani! Stop yelling,” you sternly hush through gritted teeth.

Hani clamps her lips shut and lowers her head apologetically, “oops, sorry. But aren’t you going to look?”

“Why would I?”

But contrary to your words, curiosity gets the best of you when you hesitantly turn your head and your eyes slowly trail across the floor, up your table, and across the room where Hoseok and his friends are seated. With his turned head resting on his hands propped up by his elbows leaning against the table, he’s grinning and chatting along with his friends, and like always, he’s completely clueless as to just how many girls must have been staring at him in awe. But that only makes him ever the more attractive.

Because he’s just as breathtaking as you remember; his beautifully tan skin, his choppy, breathy laughs, and his unreal side profile of his dark brown locks and sharpest of jawlines. You’re gazing at him for so long that you can practically feel yourself getting lost in his universe, but you only slip in deeper after every reminder you give yourself to return to reality—or at least until he turns to lock eyes with you.

Nearly jumping out of your seat, your blood runs cold and your entire body turns stiff. He blankly blinks at you, both brows raised questioningly as you fail to look away despite telling every part of your body to do so. Endless streams of questions and panic hit you like a tidal wave at night where the forces are the strongest and coldest that everything within it freezes and nothing seems to make sense anymore.

Does he remember you? Does he actually remember that one girl who reluctantly accepted his open arms only to run off into nonexistence the very next day? Or are you just another one of the many girls whom he has extended a helping hand to? Are you not as special as you’ve always wished to be?

The numerous questions go unanswered when Hoseok simply lets out a small laugh, a lopsided smile adorning his soft lips as he continues to gaze into yours eyes with a look that practically spoke to you with meanings of a greeting. Your eyes widen at his acknowledgement of your presence and attempt to gulp down the knot that had formed in your straining throat.

“Y-yah, did he just smile at you? Jung Hoseok? Your crush since forever?!” Junghwa nearly yells, squealing under her breath as she grips tightly onto your arm and finally snaps you out of your daze.

“I-I don’t know. He must have been looking at someone else.”

“He did?! Where? Why? How? Were you throwing him those looks we’ve been practicing since forever?” Hani exclaims, completely ignoring your rebuttal. “I can’t believe you actually used them. It’s the perfect timing. I’m proud of you, Y/N.”

“Oh, shut up. It’s just the polite thing to do,” you convince Hani while trying to do the same to yourself. But it doesn’t matter how much your subconscious is nagging at you to ditch any foolish ideas formulating in your head right this very moment, because the butterflies in your stomach and the skip of your heartbeats are telling you otherwise. You want to hope, you want to dream, and you want to talk to him, get to know him, and make up for all the lost time you had so stupidly thrown away that night.

“Psh, polite. Jung Hoseok? Polite? I know you like him, Y/N, but flirting with every girl you pass by doesn’t exactly count as just polite,” Junghwa shakes her head.

“He’s not flirting…” you mumble with a frown plastered on your face.

“Aw, Y/N…” Hani sympathizes, placing a hand over yours. “Maybe he wasn’t like this before, or maybe he was, but I think the whole school knows he’s not nice just for ethical reasons…”

“He’s a player, Y/N. Player, play boy, bad boy… whatever you want to call it, but that doesn’t change how much he’s been around. But I guess rumors will be rumors until you confirm it with them themselves,” Junghwa presses her lips and sighs. She pats your back as though to comfort the drop of your stomach when you’re reminded of the rumors regarding Hoseok. Seeing your fallen expression, she bumps your arm with hers and lets out a hopeful giggle. “Cheer up, Y/N! Now that he’s finally noticed you, maybe you can finally confirm it yourself!”

“Yeah, cheers to Y/N!” Hani exclaims, raising her glass cup once again for the hundredth shot in a row.

You’re weakly raise your cup, eyes stripped of its previously blazing excitement and blood absent of adrenaline. Knitting your brows, you press your lips shut and give a last quick glimpse at the group of boys sitting across the room. Thankfully, Hoseok preoccupies himself by leaning into his friend with his hand cupped on one side as the two whisper a conversation which elicits a roaring laugh from his friend. Amidst all of the distractions within the restaurant, you can catch a few whispers of the words “truth or dare.”

“They’re such kids… who still plays that game in college,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head in disapproval and allowing a soft laugh slip from your lips.

Luckily for you, both of your friends fail to pick up your mumbles when Junghwa begins yet another one of her usual hushed squealing. She roughly taps your hand and nudges you with her pointy elbows. “Yah, yah, yah, they’re looking at you, Y/N.”

“Again?” Hani’s eyes pop open before she gets up from her table and grabs Junghwa’s hand. “Come on, let’s give them some time alone. Good luck, Y/N!”

And without another word of explanation, giggles tumble from their lips as the two girls push each other towards the back of the store. The sudden departure leaves you choking on your water, turning your head and hoping with every ounce of you that Hoseok’s friends haven’t noticed whatever just occurred on your side of the room. But the absence of Hoseok’s group leaves you even more baffled, a bewildered expression plastering all over your face as a familiar hammering sensation pounds against your chest.

“Hey,” you hear someone murmur to your right.

“Huh?” you turn to find a lanky boy with the check in his hand. “Oh, I’ll just take that.”

“Yeah,” he gives you a half smile, handing you the check. But instead of leaving you some time alone to calculate your bills, he continues to stand there with intently watching eyes which only gives you the creeps.

“Is there something you need…?”

“Oh, yeah. I-um… your number. I need your number,” he stutters, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh,” you utter, blankly blinking at him. “Sorry. I’m not looking for anyone right now-”

“-it’s okay, I’ll wait! We can just start off as friends, I swear. Are you free tonight?”

“Sorry… I’m just not interested-”

“-how about tomorrow night?”

Pressing your lips into a line, you bite back every word that can possibly offend this ignorant boy standing before you. You’re pondering over all the ways you can turn down his offer without being impolite, but a part of you knows that there’s nothing you can do that wouldn’t fall upon deaf ears. And what makes it even worse is when you remember the situation your friends had placed you in, your head snapping in panic that Hoseok might have been observing the embarrassing situation before you—

“—she’s with me, kid,” a familiarly husky voice vibrates in your left eardrum as a heavy arm slings over your shoulders and envelopes you in warmth.

“H-huh?” the boy stammers, eyes popping open along with yours when you turn around to find Hoseok pulling you into his chest.

“You heard me,” Hoseok coos, pulling you even closer to him. With your head resting on his firm chest, you can hear and feel his heart pumping at the calmest of rates compared to yours. His cologne heavy scent sends a shiver down your spine, and yet finding you a place of solace and serenity amidst it all. “She’s with me.”

The boy frowns, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “That can’t be true… you two were eating at different tables.”

“Our connection is so strong that we’re telepathic. We don’t need to sit together to communicate,” Hoseok retorts all too confidently, nearly making even you believe the two of you are actually together. “It’s true whether you like it or not, boy. So you can go on ahead now.”

The boy only stares at the two of you with discomfort settling in his frown.

“Go on. Shoo,” Hoseok waves the boy off to which the boy reluctantly complies. After a few seconds of silence, his arm continues to rest comfortably over your shoulders and you remain in your seat, snuggly in his embrace. But the longer the two of you sit without a word of acknowledgement, the stiffer you become.

“Thanks for helping, but you really didn’t have to step in…” you nearly choke out under your breath. A ball of flooding energy threatens to burst from inside, your chest filling with flutters that come from your flip flopping stomach. Is Jung Hoseok really sitting next to you right now? The school’s most popular boy? Next to you?

“Well, I couldn’t just sit by and watch the cringefest play out,” he chuckles, leaning back to prop his head up with an elbow against the table. He taps his fingers against your right shoulder and it takes everything in you not to break away from his gaze to glance at the beautifully shaped fingers which remain picture clear in your mind. “Plus, what would it say about me if I were to let such a pretty girl like you slip by for a guy like him?”

“Like him?” you utter with wide eyes, attempting to hide the growing smile dancing on the corners of your lips.

Hoseok only mirrors your action, a lopsided smile forming on his lips as he watches you shuffling nervously in your seat. “He’s probably a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not experienced and he’s just plain rude. You saw how he treated you.”

“I’m sure it’s just his first time asking a girl for her number…” you give him the benefit of the doubt despite agreeing with every little thing he says.

“Maybe,” he quips. His darkened eyes watch you stare down at the ground with your hands fumbling with the holes of your fashionably torn jeans, and despite doing your very best to avoid his piercing gaze, you can’t help but internally scream at how he’s still observing your every move with a calm behavior unlike yours. “Hey, say what, I’ll show him how it’s done.”

“W-what?”

Within the blink of an eye, the weight on your shoulders lift as his hands reach out to grab ahold of your phone laying on the other side of the table. And before you know it, he’s waving your phone in front of you with a teasing smile on his lips.

“I’ll trade your phone for your number,” he offers, voice velvety and sleek as if he’s done this thousands of times before.

Is he really asking for your number? Jung Hoseok? The Jung Hoseok? It takes everything in you not to break down in overwhelming excitement, but after holding your breath and swallowing the churning of your stomach, you somehow manage to produce a steady voice contrary to your internal one.

“That’s not smooth. That’s just blackmail,” you half scoff half laugh.

“Ah, indeed. But it’s much more effective, don’t you think?” he cocks his head with an amused grin.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and snatch your phone back.

“Number?”

Chuckling at your swift movements, Hoseok quirks a brow before nodding in acknowledgement. And so while he recites his number with the most monotonous tone ever, you save it into your phone under the name ‘Jung Captain,’ opting out of adding a small heart emoji at the end. All the while, he watches you with half lidded, darkened eyes, every inch of his alluring expression entices you with tingling sensations running across your body.

Hoseok’s lips curve upwards in an expectant matter when his phone rings, picking it up to glance at the unrecognizable number of yours on his glaring screen. You want to at least make a decent first impression, especially if it turns out he doesn’t recall you from that one night long ago, but the force which tugs at your line of sight overcomes your weak will and causes you to glimpse over at his phone.

But all of your efforts are in vain when your suspicions are confirmed by his next question.

“And your name, love?”

Ah, so he doesn’t remember.

Your chest sinks and you’re forced to take a deep breath in order to exhale your baited breath, allowing yourself time to recuperate from your moment of disappointment. What were you expecting anyways? How would he remember someone like you? Someone who left him and his promise hanging more than a year ago? Maybe it really is just you reminiscing over that one magical night. But it’s alright, as crestfallen as you are over the lost time and memories, the new opportunity which presents itself before you only rekindles new hopes for a one sided reconciliation.

“Y/N,” you say.

Hoseok cocks his head and flashes you a soft, lopsided smile. You know he’s probably said this to countless girls before, but you can’t help it when your heart skips a beat at his next words which will play over and over in your head for the next 24 hours.

“Y/N, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he smirks, and time stops. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven, then?”

-

Junghwa [7:01 pm] I know you’ve had a crush on him since forever, and this is literally a dream come true for you, but just be careful! I don’t want him to play around with my best friend.

Junghwa [7:02 pm] But on that note, have fun! Tell me how it goes, okay?

Junghwa [7:05 pm] Update. Me. Every. Single. Ten. Minutes!!!

You [7:08 pm] Alright, alright. Calm down girl.

Junghwa [7:10 pm] Okay, but where is he?! I can’t believe he’s 10 minutes late... Drop him, Y/N!

Scoffing at your friend’s remarks, you shake your head and bury your phone into your purse. It’s chilly outside tonight, but that didn’t stop you from putting on the flirtiest, most form fitting dress you could find in the depths of your closet. You didn’t want to seem too desperate, but if you’re being completely honest, you are desperate to make a good impression. Maybe he doesn’t remember you, but that might be a good thing; now you can make an even better connection without seeming like a clueless girl staring at a boy with ogling eyes.

Soon enough, a black car drives by to park by the front sidewalks of your house, and you quickly get up from the bench of your front porch.

“Hey, you ready, gorgeous?” Hoseok calls out breathily, stepping out from his car and slamming his door shut before walking over to open the other door for you.

“Yeah, more ready than I’ll ever be,” you give him a small smile.

Walking down the driveway, you can feel Hoseok’s eyes roaming up and down your body, his darkened gaze just drinking in every single inch of you. Sure, you may have planned your outfit for this intent, but the reality of it all still makes you more nervous and self conscious than ever. Plopping down into the seat, Hoseok towers over you as he prepares to close the door. But instead, his brows furrow in confusion before glancing down at the classic analog watch wrapped around his wrist.

“Oh,” his face falls at the time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so late, babe. Tonight’s on me, I guess.”

You’re just about to protest when he slams the door and strides over to the driver’s side, leaving you with the silence and your own thoughts.

...did he just call you babe?

“So where are we headed to?” he chimes, starting up the engine with a roar.

“I’m deciding?”

“Yeah. I want to do whatever you want,” he leans his head against the window, a smug smile plastering all over his expression.

You gulp, “I guess the movies then…?”

“The movies?” Hoseok quirks a brow at your suggestion. “I haven’t gone there since my first date.”

“Oh, that’s okay then. We can go somewhere else,” you blurt out.

“No, it’s fine, I just find it cute of you. Plus, it’s more about who you’re with than where you’re going, right? And I’d go anywhere with you, love,” he smirks, giving you a wink before slamming his foot against the gas pedal and zooming into the streets.

All kinds of jitters vibrate from every inch of your body. In the close vicinity of you and all of his personal belongings including sweaty tees and hoodies, you can catch the scent of him throughout the car. Your hand trails up to clutch at your panging chest, your heart rate accelerating at an all time high, because everything he does somehow manages to wrap you around the tips of his fingers and elicit the skip of your heart, and something in you just knows he knows it too.

-

The date goes by smoothly, much more smoothly than you anticipated your jittery nerves would be able to manage. Of course, there are exceptions when going on a date with someone like Hoseok—exceptions that you’ve never expected from the sweet, cheeky dance captain you met a year ago.

“Wanna watch something boring like Disney animations? Or do you wanna watch something exciting like Fifty Shades of Grey,” he would lean in and whisper into your ear, his lips grazing your earlobes and sending shivers down your spine.

“Disney,” you would blurt out in a panic.

Hoseok would just scoff at you, a smirk dancing on his lips as he nods before paying for the tickets and mumbling, “well that’s no fun. What’re we going to do for two hours then…”

...as if he was planning to do things other than watching the movie.

Then there came other times when you two would reach for the same spot of popcorn, or when your hand would bump into his on your right armrest, and he’d turn his head to quirk a brow at you to question your completely coincidental intentions. But to him, nothing is coincidental. He would then suddenly grab your hands in his, fingers firmly interlocking with yours and a rush of warmth engulfing every bit of you along with your melting heart.

“Girls like you love this kind of stuff, huh?” he would lean in to whisper against your ear, purposely brushing his lips against your ear before tucking a strand of hair behind your right ear.

And by the end of the night, you finally understand what the rumors have been based off of. Maybe Hoseok really has been making the rounds. He knows how to play you in the palm of his hands, and he knows how to make any girl’s heart flutter with joy over his sweet, honey-like voice.

He’s not a bad boy—or at least you don’t think he is. He’s kindhearted in every way—maybe that’s what makes someone a bad boy—but hints of the old him remains hidden in his beaming smiles. And God, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re still searching for that boy from a year ago. You’re not sure if you’ve fallen for the present bad boy, heartthrob Hoseok, but a part of you aches from wondering the whereabouts of the other boy you had fallen for.

Ten minutes before the end of the movie and you’re standing before the restroom sink, heart pumping like crazy and mind scrambling for an excuse or some sort of confidence to bring yourself back to the seat beside Hoseok. All of the moves and trick he’s been playing on you made you so distressed that you excused yourself to the restroom, repeatedly drying your hands with towels when your phone vibrates in your bag and you pick it up to take a quick glance at it.

Junghwa [9:02 pm] Girl. How’s it going???

Junghwa [9:04 pm] Where. Are. You?!?!

Junghwa [9:07 pm] I told you to update me!!!

You disregard the first three texts with the roll of your eye, but the next two texts are what causes you to pause and do a double take.

Junghwa [9:33 pm] Y/N… I need to talk to you… it’s really important.

Junghwa [9:35 pm] I’m guessing you’re busy, so I’ll just tell you now. I don’t know how to say this… but I heard Hoseok… your guys’ date… all of this tonight… I heard he has other motives behind it. Someone told me the guys were playing truth or dare last night, and they dared him to ask you out. Something about rounding the number of girls who’ve fallen for him to 10 or something. It’s dumb. It’s so fucking horrendous. And that’s not even all… I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s not worth it anyways.

What?

Your once scrambled mind only becomes even more hectic when you’re trying to process her words. Hoseok didn’t ask you out because he was interested, but rather, he used you for his own little game? You’re just another one of his toys meant for fulfilling him and his friends’ child play? That can’t be true. Not after all the signs he’s shown you tonight… right?

You [9:36 pm] What’s the other thing?

The twist of your guts and the strange ache, constriction of your chest and lungs are undeniably painful as you wait for her reply. You pace up and down the empty restroom, biting your nails and heaving your chest from long, baited breaths before scrambling back to your phone with a new message awaiting you.

Junghwa [9:38 pm] I heard, I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard he’s trying to use you to get with the last dance captain by making her jealous. I don’t know though, Y/N… I’m sorry.

Turns out, maybe the rumors are right after all. This night was too perfect to be true anyways. Of course things have to end up like this. But it’s alright, you tell yourself, you’ve only been talking to this boy for a day now. The one you truly like is long gone and forgotten in the past now. You tell yourself can get over it soon, but the numbing pain gnawing away at your chest never seems to cease as you wait for him outside of the theater.

Soon enough, Hoseok exits the room along with the relatively few number of audience members, eyes widening when he spots you right away. “Hey, babe, where’d you go?” he asks with a gentle smile, wrapping his arm over your shoulder and guiding you out of the theater and into the parking lot.

The word ‘babe’ only pierces your already fragile state. Why is he putting on a show? Why is he calling you these affectionate names when they mean nothing other than getting him closer to his goals?

You glance up at him from just a feet away, eyes gliding over his ethereal facial features and wondering just where the boy you had fallen heads over heels with had gone. There’s no way he could have changed this much, is there? The Hoseok you know wouldn’t treat girls like another one of his pawns, would he?

He opens the door for you like always, smiling at you with raised brows and plastering on that mask that he’s come to master throughout his time with his now worn out toys. You oblige and seat yourself into the car, but your mind doesn’t stop from wondering why he’s doing all of this in the first place.

Hoseok knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger. He knows everything that he’s done tonight has already won your heart, otherwise why would you be hurting like this? So why is he continuing with this act? Why put so much effort to act like a gentleman, to pull out a chair, to save you from assholes he hypocritically labeled as jerks? Why did someone so sweet turn out to be such a cold hearted, ignorant jerk like him?

“You like to play games, right?” you ask with shaky breath.

Hoseok turns to raise a brow at you. “Sure. Depends on what kinds of games. Games like seven minutes in heaven? Or games like hide and seek? I’m sure you prefer the latter.”

“No,” you straight up ignore his remark, “I mean games like truth or dare.”

“Oh? You like those kinds of games?” he muses, regripping the steering wheel. “Alright, let’s start with you then. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Bah, of course you would,” he teasingly groans. Leaning towards you, Hoseok takes a quick glimpse at you with a smirk on his lips. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

You hate yourself for the way your heart flips at his words.

“No,” you lie through gritted teeth. Hoseok only scoffs at your supposedly evident lie. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth, babe.”

“Do you still dance?” you question.

He pauses, and you notice the darkening of his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “Dance? Why the sudden curiosity?”

“I heard you used to dance,” you spit out yet another lie.

Where is he?

Where is the old Hoseok?

“I did,” he simply says, voice low and filled with an edge of annoyance. You let out a breath of relief, but it’s cut short when he taps his fingers against the wheel. “But I wasn’t great at it.”

A lie.

His phone buzzes and a series of text coming from a contact number simply labeled as ‘from the bar last week’ pops up on his screen. But before you can read it, Hoseok reaches over to turn off the glaring screen of his phone.

“Your turn. Since I already know you’re picking truth, then how was tonight? Genuinely speaking. You’re acting awfully odd right now. Did I mess up?”

“It was great. Amazing. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you deadpan. He only watches you with unamused eyes. Both of you are burning with annoyance at one another, one because you know just exactly what’s going on in his head, and the other because he didn’t know what is going on in your head. “Truth or dare?”

“...truth.”

“Did you ask me out because you liked me?”

Silence.

He clears his throat.

“Yes.”

Another lie.

Gulping the knot in your throat, you attempt to rapidly blink the tears welling up in your eyes away. A sob threatens to escape your lips, but with a deep breath in and out, you finally blurt out your next question.

“Alright, this is getting boring because I’ve been lying this whole time,” you nearly squeak with a shaky breath. “Sorry. Let’s start over, yeah? Ask me your first question.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow at your sudden change in behavior, but nonetheless, he complies with your orders. “Have you slept with anyone before…?”

“Nope. I’m a virgin. As simple as that,” you give him a bittersweet smile in an attempt to hide the quivering of your lips. “Do you still dance? No, have you danced before? Has dancing ever meant anything to you?”

The car comes to a stop, parking in front of your driveway as the engines go silent and time seems to go still. Hoseok reclines in his seat, turning to stare at you with half lidded, dark eyes, because he knows you’re up to something. And so, the pain of your chest becomes even more evident when he remains silent.

“Alright. Next question then. Did you ask me about because you were genuinely interested? Or is there something else I should know?”

His jaw tightens and his body becomes stiffer than ever. He’s glaring at you and you’re glaring at him, both silent and fuming with fury as time ticks by. He’s searching for answers over your 180 degree change in behavior, and you’re searching for answers to the whereabouts, the hidden story behind his change in persona.

After a few seconds of intense silence, he turns away with a sigh, running a hand through his hair before slamming his steering wheel.

“Yeah. I don’t know what else you want me to do, but I’m interested.”

And that’s when you come to a revelation.

This isn’t the Jung Hoseok you love. 

This is just another bygone of the setting sun.