#men just hate women like the other day getting my car fixed my dad was with me

[elvgreen]

what pisses me off to no end is when guys think you’re the one who’s going to move out of the way when you block each other.

[my-life-literally]

I’m not mad. I’m pissed.

No one is here right now. No one is watching.

When no one is watching, I dream of a love made up of tiny things.

I dream of chopping garlic on a wooden cutting board. I hear the sound of boiling water.

When no one is watching, I dream of someone outside of work who knows my travel schedule.

I exclude my dad and brother from the following for the sole reason that I am related to them. And therefore see them as human.

I used to feel so interested in a man’s life. And his schedule. And his cutting boards. Now I don’t know if I can bring myself to care. I don’t care about their thoughts. I don’t care about how their ex/mom/second grade teacher/baby boomers/the guy who cut them off on the highway hurt them. I don’t care about their stupid crypto dreams. I don’t care about their stupid plans for early retirement. I don’t care about what dumb shit-for-brains man inspired them and the other feeble minded dickheads they know. I don’t care that men these day’s don’t have a public role model. I don’t care about their day, or what watch they want. Or how flannel has featured as the co-star in their dumb lives. I don’t care about what they know about car maintenance, or how much physically stronger men are on average because of women. Or how men have more life experience managing testosterone, a key reason why transwomen shouldn’t compete in professional women’s wrestling. Don’t worry ladies, they’re just looking out for our interests. Or how men are “fixers,” why don’t you fix your fucking attitude you magnificent prick. I don’t want to hear about how much they love their mother. I don’t want to hear how much they hate their mother. I don’t want to hear about how this guy they know is a “good guy.” I don’t want to hear their thoughts on what happens when you die. Or their stupid philosophies on a life well-lived. Or how much they hate dating. Or how much dating is easier for women. Or their half-baked thoughts on anti-vaxers; They’re white supremacists Kyle - and so are you, you fucking dickhead. I don’t want to hear about their irrational moods, or the dumb fucking things that make them happy, or how they went out of their empty-headed way to drive their buddies from one dumb-fucking point A to dumb-fucking point B. Or how they were raised by strong women. Or what makes them feel bad, or sad, or mad or glad. Or where The Art of War ends and their personality begins. I just don’t even care. 

I can’t even imagine talking to one. If I get asked, “have you ever been in a real fight?” one more fucking time ... I am going to set fire to the next Jiu Jitsu studio I see. 

Sir, I am a Woman of colour, living in a white-male centred, Aglo-Saxon apocalyptic fantasy world, have I been in a real fight- have you?

When no one is watching. I am a full person. I fear. I worry. I move. I am still. 

When no one is watching, I can slip into day’s of depression. I fold laundry and then fold in on myself. 

I lay in a ball feeling brown and guilty. Thinking tomorrow will be a better day: I will get up early, I will apply to that job. I will work on that report. 

When I am busier, I am happier. 

These past three days were hard. I mean like really hard. 

Older women are not helpful to talk to either. They are grumpy. I hate to say it. And they think the solution to the existence of having no-problems, is a husband, or random sex. Each articulating her idea of healing or wholeness through their favourite patriarchal lens. They say, “And have you thought about a husband?” “Why don’t you look for a man?” “You’re so very sensitive.” “Take this as an experience in life.” “I thought you would be farther along by now.” “You didn’t have sex yet? Well that’s where you went wrong,” followed by laughter. “I wanted to tell you he wasn’t good, but I didn’t know how to say it.” So let me get this straight: it was easier to say, “he loves you, I can feel it in my body, in my bones honey. Just take a chance. See him as a human. Life is about experiences and taking chances. And learning.” 

Well I don’t want to have fucking experiences. I want to buy a fucking house and die an inaccessible, incomprehensible millionaire. You don’t know the first fucking thing about me. 

“It hurts me that you’re still hurting.” Fuck off. No it doesn’t. And not a shred of curiosity. Just bullshit for days. They’re just like men actually. They’re just the men in their heads talking to each other. And then look over at me with lazy grins of people who mistake possession of horrendous levels of stupidity with Crown Chakra wisdom. And here’s a fun fact: If you have to utter the words that you have ancient womanly wisdom or insight, you don’t. If you try to convince me that when you’ll die you’ll come back to haunt me as a cat, or you and I will connect on a cosmic plain to complete our intergalactic work, I promise you, we won’t. 

I have seen this trick. Older women, seeing someone who is younger, and not loving them, but ready to try and mold and shape a psyche so it looks like theirs. “Look lady, I don’t see spending may days arguing about a 30/70 split over domestic labour in alignment with my life path. So unless you are curious about how a single male mind managed to render Middle Earth as the ultimate supporting character, and who the hell did his laundry, though I think we all know - then fuck off.” Basically, the birds of Middle Earth (who were born on the winds of unpaid labour of a woman so this man could be gifted time to have a think) bring me more fucking peace than trying to look a fucking man in the eye. 

I am conva-fucking-lescing. At least one of you was a nurse. And at one time both of you had husbands whose delicates you washed, hung and folded. Do you not recognize rest when you fucking see it? Or is that special laser-beam insight reserved for men? 

When no one is watching. I drive for miles. I stop in the middle of the sidewalk to re-tie shoe laces. I look at the clock. I boil eggs. I stretch. Spread butter. Wash berries. I watch my hair grow. I chop wood and carry water.

When no one is watching. I still smile at men. I smile at the back of their heads. We all need someone to love.

[hadesoftheladies]

it's like suffocating sometimes. to speak and to not speak are somehow both a sin. i have sat with this anger since i was twelve. this ugly, vicious, rock-solid thing in the middle of my chest.

most women think (as the girls back then thought) that my anger at them is judgemental. that i'm jealous they have boyfriends and i never have. that i think i'm a pure virgin, better than them. that i think them having sex is dirty. they look at me funny when i talk about how much i hate men, and so often i have to keep telling myself to rein it in, rein it in, rein it in, fix my face, give them space to talk because they're my friends. they are adults, and they get to make choices. i'm not their mother. i can't tell them what to do.

but the anger stays. and yes, it is anger at them.

i don't hate women dating men because i'm jealous of them. i hate it happening because so many women are fucking masochists. they use men to harm themselves. they do so intentionally, fully aware.

i let him touch me, my cousin told me the other day. so i asked questions. was she attracted to him? no. was he pleasant to talk to? not really. he took his dick out and i just lay there. did you want it? no. did he ask you? no, we were making out in the car, no one was around. why did you take a man you just met at the bar to the car? she shrugged.

i fixed my face. i reined it in. i watched my tone and said as little as possible. i don't want her to get the idea that i think im the boss of her. i told her i'm glad her brother interrupted an attempted rape (but i could not use the word "rape").

this man i met at the party really wanted to have sex with me and i told him no, my sister told me early in the year. i ask questions. were you attracted to him? no. did he respect your no? while we were kissing he tried to remove his belt and i had to stop him. i had it under control.

i fixed my face and reined it in.

my boyfriend is aloof and stopped talking to me as much unless he wanted sex, an old friend of mine told me. i asked questions. is he kind to you? he's a gentleman. okay but is he kind? not always, he reminds me of my dad. does he put in the same effort as you're putting? to cook him food? take him out? no. he complains about the one time i let him pay for the date though. have you talked to him? yes. has he changed? no, i have been crying for days i love him so much.

i fix my face, i bake her cookies, i rein it in and let her cry on my shoulders. she cries over him for six whole hours.

next i hear she's best friends with my brother. i tell her, do you know he hates women (he's shared her nudes with his friends)? do you know he makes fun of you, him and your ex both, to the others? please stay away from him. she doesn't listen. they still talk and we no longer do. she is now dating her exe's cousin.

it's not my business.

except . . . hold the fucking phone it FUCKING IS. how are you going to ask me to love you, to be there for you, and expect me to feel nonchalant about how easily you debase, devalue and abuse yourself? how do you expect me to just sit there and watch you do it?

i'm not fucking judging you, i'm fucking asking why you can't ever choose yourself. why you'd pick misery over your own happiness. is self-contentment so fucking unfamiliar you would chain yourself to the whipping post just because you'd been there before? just because the unknown of your own freedom scares you?

I HATE THAT YOU MAKE ME WATCH. I HATE WATCHING WOMEN AND GIRLS, LITTLE SISTERS, OLDER SISTERS, DIVORCED AUNTS, ETC. GO THROUGH THIS OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

they wax poetic about the love of their man, clinging to this idea of him, and they never let fucking go because they don't trust themselves. they don't see themselves without him. they see themselves as objects. "at least i'm an object he wants" "i'd take the beating if he was good looking" ass jokes. i go to their houses, i visit them in company, and i watch their men perform. but i'm quiet. i just sit there and watch. listening to men in a room full of more men always reveals how little they actually give a shit.

my mom's constant self-deprecating jokes at her own appearance pissed me off as a little girl and now as a grown woman, i still can't stand to watch women humiliate themselves for the fucking nostalgia of it all.

and then i have to ask myself: should i stay or should i go? does my support or love mean anything to you if the slightest anger at your poodle of a boyfriend makes me your mortal enemy despite everything i've done as a friend? do you hate that i notice that you hate yourself? do you hate that i pity you? is that why you cut me off?

there's older women who've gone through this. they say: "leave those bitches alone. they like it. they enjoy it. stop trying to save them and let them have their dirty ass men. what can we do? they hate women and this is why women can't get along. might as well try get your OWN man because friendships aren't worth anything as a woman." and i can't help but think they sound like men. of course, you wouldn't have sympathy for women like this, but some of them are genuinely, utterly broken hearted, even traumatized, at what they've had to watch their female friends go through. after cleaning up their wounds and patching up their bruises. all for it not to matter in the end. but i can't agree with them regardless, even though there's a pain in me that only they have bothered to understand. how can i be callous to you? i understand you. i don't know how to save you but i don't know how to leave you.

but i'm finite. i'm tired.

i'm tired of going through the same cycle of supporting you and then you using that support as a way to enable your old behavior. you are so lonely and so addicted to the sting because of it. lonely people make the best addicts, after all. and you're taking me with you. except i have to watch, and to me that's an extra layer of suffering. because unlike you, i love you. unlike you, i care when you're in pain. unlike you, i think you deserve better. unlike you, i don't tolerate less for you. unlike you, i think you're what you've been waiting for. unlike you, i think you're enough. unlike you, i think you're beautiful. unlike you, i think you can do it. unlike you, i think you're powerful.

but what do i know? what will saying it bring but more arguments and accusations? now your boyfriend is on to me, and sometimes, he likes to punish you for having a friend like me. sometimes, he'll make you feel so good that all my concerns will seem trivial and wishful. quickly, i become the person that doesn't believe in you, doesn't think you're powerful, doesn't think you're smart, doesn't think you can do this, doesn't think you deserve a good man; deserve better. doesn't think a man can love you because you're unloveable. my distrust of men, the men you have surrounded yourself with, whose track record i've witnessed, is now evidence of my bias and not their true feelings toward women. toward you.

"stop treating me like a baby!" you say and all i can say is "but you're not looking after yourself!" rinse and repeat.

if i speak, i risk isolating you to him. i want to keep the door open in case you need it. i don't want you to shut off from me. but if i don't speak, i risk isolating you to him, feeding into your romanticization of him. i risk being guilty of seeing you walk into danger and saying nothing. of hating you enough to do that.

so i'm saying it now, on this little corner of the internet, because i rarely get to say it: you hate yourself and you punish me when you demonstrate how much you do so by utterly disregarding your well-being.

the same way you feel hated by me because i hate the man you love, is the same way i feel hated by you because i love you, the person you hate.

you use dating the same way you use femininity: to hurt yourself. it is not an innate desire. it is a cope, a culture. your mother taught it to you. maybe your sister. you know nothing else and you are too scared to know anything else.

so i am angry at you, because i am suffocating. because begging you makes it worse. because arguing makes it worse. because bringing out the statistics makes it sound like i'm calling you stupid. because my passion scares you. because you'll always find me condescending.

because all you'll ever fucking let me do is watch. and you don't care that it hurts me.

because we're women and that makes us fucking masochists.

nearly all women who date men do so as a form of ritualized masochism: the lifeblood of female gendered socialization

[semisgroupie]

Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend

Sugar Daddy!Nanami Kento X College Student!Female Reader

Warnings: age gap, dumbification, degredation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), creampie, car sex, hints at a corruption kink, daddy kink, use of a vibrator, mean dom Nanami, dom/sub dynamics, public sex, light spit play, use of the word “cunny”, overstimulation

Word Count: 3.6k words

This is my contribution to the Ditzy n Diamonds collab check out everyone else’s amazing work!! A huge huge huge thank you to @aransangel​ for allowing me to participate. Enjoy!

Kento wasn’t a lonely man. He had his fair share of women in his life but they were always after his money. He would go into a relationship and they expect him to buy them the moon and the night sky after one date. Always wanting to go on shopping sprees and wanting to be spoiled. So he took himself out of the dating scene. 

Until one day his friend offered a sugar daddy website to use. Kento had more money than he could keep track of, being the head of two Fortune 500 companies he had the cash rolling in. So he decided to just join it, not like he was going to find someone worth his time or money until he stumbled across your profile. 

You weren’t like any of the other girls on the website. You looked so innocent, so soft and so pure. He messaged you immediately after going through your profile. You were so open about everything he asked you and you were able to keep a conversation. 

You never thought you’d find yourself looking for a sugar daddy, you were in your second year of college and the little job you had was not enough to pay rent, tuition, buy food and buy textbooks. When telling your roommate you’d be late on paying your half of the rent for the third month in a row she recommended you’d look for a sugar daddy.

She helped set your profile up, putting the right pictures and making the bio perfect for older men looking to spoil a sweet girl like you. It was going well at first then you hit a snag, the men were too old or had too many rules or wanted too much for the first meeting. Then you received a message from Nanami Kento. 

You looked through his profile and he was perfect, being in his late 40s, extremely attractive and his first message wasn’t anything creepy. He genuinely wanted to get to know you. So when he offered to set up your first meeting a week after getting to know each other you jumped at the chance. 

It went amazing and when your allowance started flowing in it was even better. He got you your own penthouse apartment in one of the buildings he bought making it rent free for you. The first night you moved in he fucked you in every room and on every piece of furniture, making you scream and cream around his cock over and over again. 

That was two years ago, that was when you first started the arrangement. A year in he asked to change the title of your relationship wanting you to be his and only his, not like you already weren’t. He still spoiled you senseless, keeping your allowance and when you were a good girl he gave you a little bonus.

Tonight you were his date to a masquerade ball that one of his friends were hosting. Kento was helping you into the corset that went with your dress. A dress he bought for you of course.

“You look so beautiful princess and you haven’t even put the dress on yet. Ready for me to tighten this corset?”

You nodded making Kento tsk.

“What does daddy say about using your words?”

“I’m sorry daddy, I am ready for you to tighten it daddy.”

“Good girl, now breathe in for me and let me know if it’s too tight or hurting you.”

“Yes daddy.”

You inhaled and he tightened the strings on the back of the corset, hugging your curves and making your tits pop out making Kento eye them hungrily. His hands moving up and down your waist and hips moving them back to grab at your ass. 

“Daddy! We can’t do this now, the party will start at 8 and we can’t be late. You hate being late.”

He reached up squishing your face between his fingers bringing you face to face with him.

“Don’t tell daddy what he likes and don’t tell him what he can and can’t do silly little girl.”

“’m showwy daddy” you spoke with your cheeks still being squished. 

“Good, now lets get this dress on you.” 

You pouted because you’d have to redo your makeup. Kento slipping the dress up your body, zipping it and grabbing your tits from behind. You sat down in front of your vanity reapplying your makeup while Kento was fixing his tux. Once you were done you slipped on your heels and grabbed your purse while Kento grabbed your masks. 

He escorted you arm in arm to his car, a black Bugatti Chiron Super Sport 300+ the leather interior, a dark cherry red, matching the dress you were wearing. He helped you inside the vehicle and went to the drivers side. 

“Babygirl do me a favor and look in the glovebox for me?”

He would often get you gifts every time you went out, little surprises under your car seat or the trunk or in the glovebox. He watched you open the glovebox and pull out two boxes. One rectangular box and one small box. You opened the smaller box first, your eyes widened at its contents. 

“Daddy what do you want me to do with this?”

In your hand was a small black egg vibrator.

“Are you that clueless my dumb baby? Open your legs and take that vibrator and put it inside you.”

“But daddy my dress.”

“The dress has a slit so use that to slip your hand to that sweet pussy and insert the vibrator inside you.”

You did as he told you, thankful he bought a dress with a slit high enough for you to do it. You turned to him for his next command but you got nothing, just as you were about to open your mouth the vibrations started. 

“Daddy! H-how did you—ah—do that?”

“Is my little baby so stupid to realize I had the remote for it? Now we’re going to see how many orgasms can be pulled from you until we get there—if we get there.”

“D-daddy w-what do you mean?”

“I-if I don’t end up p-p-pulling over to f-f-fuck you. Now open the other box.” 

His mocking would hurt any other girl but not you. You loved when he treated you like a brainless slut. You opened the rectangular box inside a beautiful ankle bracelet with his initials on it and covered in diamonds. He only bought you diamonds because they signified light and it was fitting for you since you’re the light of his life. He increased the vibrations to the highest setting knowing you would cum immediately.

“This is—fuck—so beautiful t-thank you dad—fuck I’m cumming daddy fuck fuck!”

He lowered the vibrations back to the lowest setting after your orgasm you leaned down and clasped the ankle bracelet on your left ankle. Kento started the car bringing the vibrations up again. 

“Don’t mess up the leather in my car, I just bought this last week. You should remember that since you were beside me as I signed off on it. But you probably forgot since I fucked you brainless afterwards.”

You nodded dumbly not even listening to a word he said. About halfway to the party and many orgasms for you later Kento made a turn into a secluded parking lot. 

“D-daddy what are—shit—what are you d-doing?”

“Use your brain princess.”

You stood silent completely forgetting about what he told you at the start of the ride. His laughter filled the car and he shut off the vibrator, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. 

“My dumb little girl, I am going to fuck you now. Then I am going to take you to one of the hotels I have a share in and fuck you in the president’s suite. Got that?”

“But the party.”

“Fuck the party, with the amount of times you squirted and orgasmed around that toy you ruined the dress. Unless you want to go with soaked panties and your slick running down your legs.”

You shook your head no.

“Now go in the backseat so I could fuck you. Hearing your moans and pleas made me so fucking hard.”

Before moving to the backseat you took a quick look at the bulge he was palming over his pants. He followed you to the backseat and laid you down along the cushions. He scrunched the dress up to your hips and pulled your panties off you throwing it to the side. 

“Fuck baby such a mess. What a dirty dirty girl.”

“Daddy stop, it’s embarrassing!”

You tried closing your legs to cover up but a quick pinch to your thigh made you open back up for him. 

“Don’t tell me what to do and what not to do dumb slut” he grabs your face with one hand bringing it close to his, his breath fanning your face the smell of mint filling your senses, “and don’t fucking dare try to keep me away from what’s mine, got that?”

“Yesh daddy” you spoke with your cheeks still being squished a small tinge of pain beginning but it turned you on even more.

He let go of your face and you went back down, as he undid his belt and pants he just stared at your pussy. Your winking hole made his cock throb. 

“Oh my dumb baby’s cunny is making such a mess. It’s going on my leather seats too” his condescending tone made you clench around nothing again, more of your juices leaking out. To say you loved when he baby talked you would be an understatement, “What did I fucking tell you about my leather seats?”

“I don’t remember daddy.” 

��You’re that fucking dense? Too busy thinking about getting stuffed with daddy’s cock to think about anything else. How fucking selfish. Wow you’re selfish, stupid and a cockslut. How lucky am I?”

Before you could say anything back, apologize for making a mess on his expensive leather seats, he thrusted his length inside you. Your back arched and you felt yourself having another orgasm.

“I haven’t even started fucking you yet and you’re creaming around my cock. Dirty fucking whore, all you’re thinking about is my cock. Look at that facial expression so fucking lewd, you look like a pornstar. Is that what you are? My little pornstar?”

He lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist as he started thrusting into your gummy walls with a newfound speed. You weren’t sure what was turning you on more whether if it was the fact the two of you were in public or the words leaving his mouth or maybe both. 

“Fuck your cunny is so tight baby, I fuck you almost every day but you’re still so tight for me. Like your pussy is molded to my cock.”

“D-daddy feels—ngh—feels—ah fuck daddy!”

“Can’t even finish your fucking sentence, is there even a brain in your head or do you just think with your body? What am I even paying the college for? Obviously not your education, my sweet little dummy.”

“Daddy! Too m-mean!”

Tears were threatening to spill out from a mix of the degradation and how hard and fast he was fucking you. Just using you as his personal toy.

“Oh I’m t-t-too mean? Too fucking bad. Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

You did as he told you and Kento leaned down his face hovering over yours as he collected the spit in his mouth to spit into your own. Once you felt it hit your tongue you clenched around him again.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna fill you up baby.”

“Daddy please need your cum. Need it please please.”

You were babbling pleas as he gripped your hips and relentlessly pounded into you. His heavy balls clapping against your ass over and over, he looked down and the translucent white ring around his cock and it drove him mad. Someone as beautiful as a goddess letting a man like him be with you so intimately.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming—fuck!”

He held your hips close to his as ropes of his cum filled you. He leaned down and kissed you as you both let your bodies relax. He pulled out of you and shoved two of his fingers inside your pussy.

“Don’t want to let any of this leave you, want you to be nice and filled with this load until we get to the hotel. Get your rest because we have a long night ahead of us.”

“Mkay daddy.”

He pulled his fingers out of your pussy and tapped your cheek. You opened your mouth and he shoved his fingers inside feeling your warm tongue swirl around them collecting every drop of cum. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and adjusted his pants.

He looked at you one last time before going back behind the steering wheel. You looked so fucked out and in bliss.

“Remember don’t fuck up my seats any more.”

The drive to the hotel was quick, well since Kento was going double the speed limit. You brought out this side of him that made him feel like a teenager again. He just wanted to fuck you everywhere and as much as he could.

“We’re here now. Let’s see if you listened to me again or if you were too fucked out to acknowledge what I said.”

He got out of the driver's seat and opened the door to the back of the car. He leaned in and looked at your pussy.

“Tch, messy little girl. I should make you clean this shit up. Yeah make you clean it up like the nasty cum slut you are.”

“Daddy I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“Of course, now get out. We’re going to the president's suite and that pretty little anklet I got you is going to be jingling right next to my ear as I pound your sweet pussy.”

You nodded and made your way out of the car. You could barely walk from all the orgasms you had, your legs felt like noodles. Kento made his way next to you wrapping an arm around your waist as you both walked to the front desk.

“Hello Mr. Nanami, here are the room keys and the champagne is in the room on ice. Please enjoy your stay.”

As he took the keys your eyebrows furrowed trying to put everything together but your brain was like mush. As you two made it to the elevator you heard a deep chuckle from Kento.

“I can see the gears turning in your head. Maybe it’s a little more than your brain can comprehend but I planned this beforehand. Satoru throws parties like that all the time so we’ll have another night to party.”

You nodded and went inside the elevator with him. As you two went up the floors his hand on your waist traveled south until he reached the curve of your ass giving it a nice squeeze, leaving it there until you two reached your floor. He led you out the elevator and into the room. 

Once the door shut he was on you, grabbing at the fabric of the dress pulling it down and off of you as he placed sloppy kisses along your lips, jaw and neck. Once your dress was off he untied the corset practically ripping it off your body.

“Oh looks like I forgot your panties in the car. Not like you needed them anyways.”

He took your bra off you and walked you to the king sized bed, gently pushing you on it while he undressed. Your hand roamed on its own down your body to your clit rubbing gentle circles until Kento reached down and pulled your hand away.

“Are you serious? Can’t wait for me to pull my fucking boxers down before touching that messy pussy? If you want pleasure so bad” he pulled your legs putting them on his shoulders as he kneeled on the bed. “I’ll give you all the pleasure you need.”

He lined up with your glistening entrance and thrusted inside you, his cum mixed with your slick acting as lube. He held the backs of your knees and thrusted into you, hitting even deeper than before. Your mewls and whines echoing throughout the room. Your mouth falling open, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth and your eyes roll to the back of your head feeling his cock enter you over and over again.

“Fuck look at you. Like a desperate whore in heat. When I first met you, you were this cute little thing so innocent then once you got a taste of my cock you turned into a braindead slut. I wonder how your friends would react to you fucking a man that’s old enough to be your father. Your little cunny is leaking all over my cock, all my cum leaving you but don’t worry I’ll fill you up more.”

You closed your eyes and opened them again looking at Kento. Your gaze went to the ankle bracelet he got you, the small charm with his initials dangling and moving with each rough thrust. Your gaze turned back to Kento, his lip between his teeth, his normally perfectly styled hair falling out of place, strands of blonde and white hair sticking to his forehead.

Kento brought his thumb to your mouth and you wrapped your lips around it, your tongue swirling around it, getting it slick with your saliva. You let go of his thumb with a soft pop and he brought it down to your clit rubbing small circles on it giving the right amount of pressure.

“Daddy, daddy please gonna cum! Please please please.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust brushing against your g-spot sending you head first into an orgasm. Your back arching and a loud moan leaving your lips. He kept thrusting into you brushing against your g-spot over and over again your sensitive pussy couldn’t handle all the pleasure.

“Daddy p-please slow d-down, too much too much, too sen-sensitive!”

“Too bad, you’re gonna keep cumming on my cock until I fill you up. I don’t care how s-s-sensitive you are.”

His mocking made you clench around him again. His thrusts were keeping their roughness and speed. He pushed your legs further back and looked down to where you two were connected. The burn from the stretch adding to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck baby this slutty little cunny is just swallowing my cock.”

He tapped at your clit a couple of times, the rough pads of his fingers mixed with the continuous brushing of his cock against your g-spot brought you to another orgasm. Your manicured nails running down his arms leaving red scratch marks in their wake. A moan of ‘daddy’ leaving you as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through you.

“Let’s see if we could get you to one more orgasm before I fill you up.”

You nodded the only word you acknowledged being ‘orgasm’. He rode you through your orgasm his grip on your legs getting tighter likely going to leave marks. Kento leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth swirling his tongue around it, nipping and sucking then moving his head to show your other nipple the same attention.

His pelvis rubbing against your clit with each thrust, the roughness of his trimmed pubic hair sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your hands went through his hair scratching at his scalp.

“Gonna cum for me? I’m gonna cum too, cum for me baby and I’ll give you my cum.”

You weakly moved your hips gaining more friction and Kento kept his mouth on your nipples. Your back arched as you hit your peak again that night, the feeling should be familiar with how many you had that night but it just rippled through your body. Your pussy clenching around his cock and your nails running along his scalp sent Kento into his orgasm. He painted your walls white for the second time that night.

Heavy labored breaths filled the room, once Kento finished he pulled out of you some of his cum followed leaking out of you onto the sheets. He laid next to you and held you close to him both of your limbs intertwining with each other. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry about the seats daddy.”

“Don’t worry about the seats princess, I’ll send it to get cleaned tomorrow. Just remember while I say those mean things to you I don’t mean a word, you’re a smart, beautiful young lady and I love you.”

You lifted your head to look at his face, worry was spread across his face, his crows feet and small wrinkles on his face deepened as he looked at you.

“I know daddy! I love you too! Love you so much Kento.”

He leaned down, cupping your face with one of his hands as he placed a kiss to your lips. A small smile on his face as he pulled away.

“Good, now rest up baby we have quite a long weekend ahead of us. This hotel has a private pool and I want to fuck you there.”

“Daddy! I don’t even have a bathing suit and I doubt I’ll be able to move without being sore tomorrow.”

“We’ll worry about your soreness tomorrow and don’t worry about the bathing suit, we’ll go shopping for some and you’ll get whatever you desire, it’s not like you’ll need it anyways.”

Kento traced small shapes on your back as you fell asleep and soon fatigue hit him as he fell asleep right after you.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Howlin’ For You – Drabble

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for months now and decided to just finally give in a write it. 

Some protective Biker!Dad!Bucky and a wee bit of Amelia

Bucky and Amelia were driving back from school.

By some miracle, Bucky knew enough not to pick her up on his motorcycle. He learned the hard way that that his daughter was starting to find it embarrassing. There once was a time – when she was still a kid and not a teenager – that Amelia thought it was cool that her dad drove a motorcycle.

Now she was embarrassed by it. The comments about how hot her dad was didn’t go unnoticed by Amelia and made her want to throw up. She also just hated unwarranted attention of any kind.

Bucky had been asking Amelia about her day when his cell started ringing.

“It’s mom,” Amelia said, seeing the screen before him.

He picked it up right away. “Hey, doll.”

“Are you guys too close to home? I realized I forgot a couple of things for dinner. Would you mind stopping by the store for me real quick?”

“Yep. Just text me what you need. Me and Amelia will grab it.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Y/N answered before hanging up.

“Mom forget to buy ingredients again?” Amelia smirked.

“Yep,” Bucky chuckled. “Mind running in and grabbing it if I give you my card?”

She nodded. 

A few minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot of Whole Foods.

Amelia jumped out.

“Hey,” Bucky grabbed her attention before she could run in. She paused. “Buy some flowers for your ma, too.”

She rolled her eyes. “What kind?”

“The prettiest ones,” Bucky told her with a chuckle.

Amelia scoffed, “That’s helpful…”

She pretended to be grossed out and annoyed by her parent’s loving marriage and partnership. But she also saw how different it was from her friends’ parents, who all seemed to hate each other.

Bucky watched his daughter walk towards the entrance.

But his attention quickly averted to the group of young men that were loitering just outside the entrance. All of their gazes were fixed on Amelia, ogling her body up and down.  

If his window hadn’t been down, Bucky might’ve missed the disgusting catcalling that was aimed at his daughter.

His grip immediately tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white.

If Amelia had heard it, she pretended not to and continued on walking.

Bucky wondered when she learned the womanly skill of ignoring the disgusting behavior of men. 

He hated that she had to. He also hated that she was only 15 and men were already targeting her as if she was a grown woman. They had to be in their early 20s, which only infuriated Bucky even further.

‘Breathe, Bucky. Just breathe.’ That’s what Y/N would tell him if she were here right now. She’d try to calm him down and prevent him from doing anything rash.

But she wasn’t here and Bucky’s anger was getting the best of him.

Before he could change his mind, Bucky shoved his car door open and slammed it shut behind him.

His walk alone was murderous. And it caught the attention of one of the guys. He hit his friends’ chests and nodded toward Bucky, grabbing everyone else’s attention.

“Hey! What did you just say to her?” Bucky asked.

He’d give them a chance to look guilty for their actions, to immediately realize that what they’d just done was wrong.

But they weren’t that smart.

However, they did seem to know what he was talking about and started laughing amongst themselves.

“Why don’t you fuck off, old man?” One of them muttered without looking Bucky in the eye and turned his back on him, bringing his attention back to his friends who were laughing again.

It only made Bucky’s anger worse.

Alright. He’d tried it Y/N’s way. And that didn’t work.

Now it was his way.

Bucky grabbed the one who had talked back to him and slammed him against the car they were all standing near.

“Hey! Hey! Whoa, man! Chill the fuck out!” One of the friends panicked.

They weren’t so tough now, realizing that even though they were outnumbered, this stranger was taller and stronger than they were. It probably didn’t ease their panic that they saw a knife attached to the back of his waist on his jeans. 

“How old do you think that girl was?” Bucky hissed, his grip on the shirt tightening.  

His voice and tone were disturbingly relaxed. Through his military training and being around too many alpha males, Bucky learned that the man with the most control and composure always came out on top.

“I-I-I don’t know, man! 21?” The guy stuttered, eyes wide with fear.

Bucky slammed against the car again. “She’s 15 years old.”

“How was I supposed–”

“It doesn’t matter how old she is,” Bucky snapped. “No girl or woman wants to be catcalled. Do you understand me?”

The guy just stared up at Bucky, hoping that he wasn’t going to get hurt.

“I said, do you understand me?” Bucky repeated, annoyance evident in his voice.

The guy nodded his head quickly, realizing that showing his understanding was the only way he was going to survive this interaction unscathed.

Bucky released him roughly and then turned to acknowledge the boy’s friends.

“You idiots ever heard of the Howling Commandos?”

They all looked at each other and gave one another a reluctant nod. 

Everyone in the area had heard of the biker gang in some way or another. Some people knew they existed and others were convinced they were just an urban legend.

“If I or any one of them ever see you talk to another woman that way again, I think you can imagine what’ll be in store for you.” Bucky tilted his head and raises his eyebrows, offering them the chance to make the mistake of asking him to elaborate. 

With that, he slowly walked back to his car.

As soon as his back was turned to the guys, they all scrambled to get into their car and make a run for it.

A few minutes later, Amelia was practically skipping back to the car.

“I got mom a bouquet of Dahlias. I feel like their weird and creepy, so she’ll like them.”

Bucky chuckled. “Good choice.” He was trying his best to act like nothing happened. 

He knew how much Amelia got freaked out when Bucky turned all biker on the world. 

If Amelia noticed her dad acting more tense, she didn’t comment on it.

But Y/N, however, wasn’t one to let things go unacknowledged.

When Y/N and Bucky were finally alone in their bed at the end of the night, she asked him what was going on.

Bucky reluctantly told her about his little altercation.

“Should I talk to Amelia?” He asked her.

Y/N sighed. “It’s not about talking to Amelia or teaching her anything. It’s about making the world a safer place for her. And you know how you do that?” She asked him gently with an encouraging smile.

“Huh?”

“By raising boys to know better. And I think we did a pretty good job with the twins, don’t you think?”

Bucky shrugged. “If I ever heard the boys say those things to a woman…” he got angry just thinking about it.

“They would never, Bucky. You know that.” Y/N defended.

He knew Y/N was right. But he was grumpy and pissed off, quite frankly. Owen and Grayson were just two young men out of millions. It didn’t really feel like much of an impact to Bucky. It was other people’s sons that he was worried about – not his own.

A moment of silence passed between them.

“You feel helpless, right? Like you can’t control what other people do?” Y/N asked.

Bucky nodded, realizing that’s exactly how he felt.

“What you are experiencing is minuscule to what every woman feels like every day of her life.”

Bucky blinked as he processed what she meant. “I’m sorry, doll.”

She chuckled and laid her head on her husband’s chest. “You don’t have to be sorry, Buck. Plus, ‘sorry’ isn’t going to stop other men from being misogynistic assholes.”

He brushed her hair out of her face and off her neck. His hand then moving to rub her back. 

In minutes, she was fast asleep.

But Bucky couldn’t find rest so easily. All the women in his life taught him different things about the way the world saw and treated women. He just never expected his daughter to be the one to teach him another lesson.

---------

I missed writing for Howlin’ For You, so there ya go. 

[teiasviago]

Bridges and Buffers

AO3 | @today-in-fic | 1,449 words

The airport is loud but the thoughts in Dana’s head drown it out. She hasn’t seen Charlie in three years, since she attended Melissa’s Halloween party and he was in town. Missy isn’t with them anymore; she can’t act as a buffer between them, a bridge. They have to interact on their own now.

Missy and Charlie were always closer, leaving Dana to spend time with Bill, which was akin to spending time with a small replica of their father. Dwelling on the past isn’t going to fix the present, though. Not when Dana can pinpoint Charlie’s shock of red hair from her vantage point on the second floor of the airport, leaning against the railing. Baggage claim is on the first floor, so she takes the escalator down and meets her brother by the entrance to baggage claim.

Dana gives him a tap on the shoulder with a tremulous smile on her lips as he turns around. “Charlie.”

“Dana.” He hugs her, and she replies in kind.

“It’s good to see you,” she says, as if the past twelve years are something other than what they are.

Charlie nods. As long as the next few days don’t go to shit, everything will be alright.

—

Of course, things do go to shit. Dana makes it through her memorial speech without devolving into sobs and hugs Charlie as he makes his way behind Missy’s grave to give his own. Unfortunately, their mother tries to get him alone to talk when the funeral’s over.

“He’s not interested, Mom,” Dana says, one hand on her mother’s forearm.

“He’s my son, Dana. I have the right to talk to him.”

“He’s not interested. Don’t do this.” Both women are in tears. “Let him be.”

“What’s going on here?” Bill comes up and stands next to them, eyes flicking from Dana’s hand on their mother’s arm to his sister’s eyes.

“Nothing, Billy. Dana and I were just having a chat.”

Margaret gazes at Charlie for a moment before she hangs her head and walks away.

“What was that about?” Bill asks, looking over at their brother with mild suspicion. He’s bent down as if they’re going to share secrets between siblings.

“None of your business, Bill,” Dana says, walking around him towards Charlie, who’s been waiting by her car.

The eldest Scully sibling lets out a mirthless laugh and sidesteps her, putting a hand out so that she has to stop. “I think it is my business. I don’t want to be left out of shit that happens in this family again! I have a right to know!”

Dana shakes her head and looks up at her older brother, anger building up inside. “This isn’t about you, Bill!” she eventually exclaims. “You—you always viewed this as a slight against you when it has nothing to fucking do with you! Charlie is who he is and it shouldn’t matter who he loves because what actually matters is family! And—and that is something that, as much as I’ve denied it and hate to admit it, you and Dad and Mom have never truly understood. And for a long time, I didn’t, either. But Missy understood that. She understood that family comes first and that love should be unconditional.”

Bill’s lips are pursed and his eyes look sad, as if he feels regretful, but he doesn’t say anything as he steps away from Dana. She takes a moment to compose herself before heading over to Charlie, head held high. “I want to go to Missy’s place,” he tells her, and she nods, starting the car.

—

Missy’s apartment is barren of all her personal touches now. Dana and Charlie sit on the floor, backs against the couch, and pass a cigarette between them, as well as a bottle of booze. Neither of them bothered to check what it was.

“Can I tell you something, Day?” he starts, blowing out smoke.

“Sure.” Dana takes a swig from the bottle.

“You fucked up.”

To her credit, she doesn’t even look phased. She can’t say she’s surprised that he’s bringing this up. “I know.”

“Well, you continued fucking up, so if you were intending to isolate yourself from your little brother, you sure as hell succeeded.”

Just because she expected it doesn’t mean she’s immune to the sting of Charlie’s words, though.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, trying not to cry. If she cries, it’ll look like she can’t take valid criticism, and their relationship is on the rocks already.

Dana takes the cigarette back and thinks of how Missy stopped dating part of the way through college. She thinks of how Missy cried to an unprepared Dana when they were seventeen and nineteen, respectively, about how she was broken because she didn’t love her boyfriend—or any of the other guys she’d dated. She thinks of the girl in her algebra class with the kind eyes and kissable lips; the guy she sat next to in her  AP Physics class and the notes they passed; the girl she kissed as a freshman in college; and all the girls she’d wanted to kiss but didn’t out of fear.

“Can I tell you something, Charlie?” Dana asks.

“Go for it.”

She takes a drag and blows it out. “I like women,” she says, voice shaking. “I also like men.” She’s ashamed that she’s crying despite her best efforts not to. “I thought there was something wrong with me... And you know how I practically worshipped Daddy...” Dana’s breath hitches as she stares at the wall. “I was scared, Charlie, and I thought, Well, there’s lots of people like you, but I’ve never heard of a person like me.”

He places his hand over hers and takes the cigarette away, putting it out in the tray. “Danes, there’s lots of people like you. I know that you’re gonna say something about knowing that based on statistics but seriously—I know lots of people like you, just like I know lots of people like me, and lots of people who aren’t like either of us. Be proud of who you are. This is D.C.—I’m sure there’s places that’ll appreciate your sexuality, and people who’ll appreciate it, too.”

Dana doesn’t say anything immediately, choosing to lean over and hug Charlie instead. “Thank you.”

“You should visit me in Seattle, meet my fiancé.” He sighs and takes a sip from the bottle. “Missy was so excited when I told her. We’ve got a little pupper named Benjy. You’ll love him. You’ll like Marcus, too.”

She nods, taking the bottle when he passes it to her. “I will. I’ll bunch together some vacation days to take a week off. You can show me around and I’ll tell Marcus embarrassing stories from when we were kids.”

Charlie lets out a chuckle and leans his head on Dana’s shoulder. She leans her head on his and looks out the window at the night sky. “D’you think Daddy’ll accept us up in heaven?” she asks.

“I wouldn’t know. I have my sights set elsewhere.”

“Missy did, too.”

—

She heads into work on Monday feeling hollow now that Charlie’s flown back to Seattle. “Morning, Scully,” Mulder greets. Dana gives him a feeble smile as he vacates his chair with a gesture for her to sit in it. “Boy, do I have a case for us, Scully. We’re going to Kansas tomorrow.”

At her lack of response after she sits down, he drops the cheery act. “Sorry,” she whispers, letting her head fall into her hands. “I don’t—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“My brothers were in town for Missy’s funeral, and...”

“You don’t have to explain. We can stay in town for a while if you’d like.”

“I don’t know...” To Dana’s great shame, she begins to cry. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Dana...” Mulder murmurs, brushing his hand through her hair before pulling her into an awkward hug. She sniffles and tries to calm herself down, letting her tears stain her partner’s shirt. “You should take a day off. It’s fine if you need time to process, to—to find yourself again.”

At his words, Dana peels her face away from his shoulder and makes eye contact for a brief moment. Mulder’s gaze is too intense to hold for long, though, so her own skitters away. “I don’t know if I ever knew myself in the first place, Mulder. I’m not the same person I was when I met you.”

He reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear, tenderly stroking her cheek with his thumb. “And I’m not the man I was when I met you, but that doesn’t mean I lost anything along the way. I’m still a bachelor chasing lights in the sky.”

Dana lets out a watery laugh at that and wipes away her tears. “And I’m still here to make sure you don’t injure yourself along the way,” she tosses back.

“You always are. And, who knows; maybe our sisters are hanging out in the afterlife together. I think they would’ve gotten along nicely.” Mulder shoots her a sad smile and takes her hands in his. “Take some time off. I promise I’ll manage for a few days without you.”

She gives him a small smile and, after a moment of deliberation, leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you, Mulder. I’ll see you in a few days, then.”

They stand up and Mulder steps away so she can walk back to the coat hanger by the door. “Just a few days, Scully,” he repeats, giving her a small wave as she adjusts her coat and leaves the office, bag in hand.

—

Dana sits on her couch, freshly-showered with a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other, holding it to her face. Someone answers from the other end and she starts, setting the wine glass down. “Yes, hi! I’m Dana Scully. I’m looking for Nancy Dasilva? No, no, just give her my number, if you could, and tell her that I asked her to call me. Thank you.” The conversation ends, and Dana replaces the phone in its cradle with an exhale, a small smile on her lips.

Missy was right when she told her little sister to loosen up and have fun. It feels liberating to be acting on her feelings after so adamantly repressing them. She just has to hope that they’re reciprocated, now; but Dana can make an educated guess that they are.

[choco-mark]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (2)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: language, mentions of violence + death, y/n wanting to kill jeno, jeno being an asshole, oppression of women, murder/homicide, jeno wanting to kill y/n

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 4.8k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

18 April

It had been a few days since you blew up on Jeno, and thankfully he found you scary enough to stay away from you for a while. Mark had been visiting your room every now and then to send you messages from your fiancee (one of which had been ‘don’t go to the training room tomorrow,’ which gave you an extra reason to stay there longer than usual).

Today was the day of the mission, or at least, that was what Mark had told you this morning after handing you a box of battle clothing. You took one look at the color of the uniform, repelling it immediately before you realized the expense of the actual fabric and how protective it would really be.

Even the thin overcoat armor was bulletproof, as it was marked on the inner side of the jacket. The boots were heeled, making you a bit annoyed as you would’ve rather stuck with your own classic ones, but you couldn’t pass by the chance to step on someone’s very nice face for being an asshole.

As you were slipping on the last of your clothing, Mark came bursting in, nearly causing you to throw the nearest object at him. His eyes were blown wide open, darting around the room until he focused on you. “Is there anyone else in here?”

“No?” You placed down the glass vase back on the bedside table, walking towards him. “It’s just me. Are we leaving soon?”

Gulping, he nodded. “Yeah—we’re just missing a few people. They’re probably in the training room, or still getting ready. Um, you can come with me, though—Jeno wants to talk to you.”

You scowled at the sound of his name, wanting to do literally anything other than listen to the blond guy boss you around like he needed you to convince himself that he had power. You weren’t sure if he would ever get it; there was no way you were going to listen to anything he said, ever.

You walked down with Mark anyway, making sure to pocket your phone alongside you. Jisung had called you earlier, telling you quietly how he missed you and wanted to see you as soon as he could, and you had just chuckled, saying it would happen soon. It had hurt your heart, hearing your younger brother sound so broken over the call, but there was nothing you could give other than the empty promise of ‘maybe.’

Once you had reached the lobby, you noticed there was a line of Lee fighters, that were all (so surprisingly) male. Almost each and every one of them watched as you walked down the steps beside Mark, looking you up and down like you were some kind of specimen. It made you feel unknowingly self-conscious, having so many men stare at you without an ounce of remorse in their blood.

Jeno was in the corner, sitting next to an elderly but sharp looking man, talking intently with him until the man’s eyes fell on you. You wished you could have spat in his face from the way his eyes skimmed your body, a man who looked old enough to be your father. As you came closer, he stood up, giving you a slight bow, which you returned.

“Thank you for joining us, Y/N,” his voice was raspy, looking from Jeno to you, and then to Mark. “We’re glad to have one of the best soldiers in NCT Park for this mission, who is, I’ve heard, you? It’s an honor.”

Jeno gave an incredulous look to his father, looking at you with huge eyes that you thought they’d better burst from his sockets any moment soon. “Would you take a seat next to my son, miss?”

You cocked your head at the sound of formality, nodding slightly before sitting down stiffly beside Jeno, not feeling the man in front you had good intentions at all. Glancing over at your fiancee, you said, “I appreciate the deal you have fixed with my family; that is why I am here.”

The man nodded, looking up at Mark. “Your brothers are already on their way to the hideout, Mark, there’s no reason to go looking for them any longer. Get the cars ready, and make sure the system is set up before we arrive there. Okay, son?”

You had already found out from Mark that he himself was not a fighter, but a hacker instead. It explained why he always had an electronic device in his hands and why he had a notepad on deck every time he came to visit you; he was always ready, and dedicated to the cause. It reminded you of yourself.

He nodded, scurrying out of the room being followed by a few of the men. Jeno’s father leaned over, completely disregarding his son as he spoke to you. “We’re having you join Jeno’s team for this mission, so please effectively cooperate with him. Proper equipment is supplied in the van you’ll be taking alongside with the team, and if you need any assistance with weapons, my son will help you.” Jeno grumbled softly at the mention of himself, leaning back against the sofa.

“We are infiltrating the hideout for today, so we’ll only be providing blades for this mission. There shouldn’t be many people other than guards outside, and it will be an easy in and out mission for the treasure. Understood?”

You nodded. “And what of the mission? Is there anything I’m required to collect?” Jeno’s dad clicked his tongue at the sound of your voice, almost as if he disapproved of you talking. “Excuse me?”

“I understand you are a Park,” he continued, disregarding your question completely as he looked over to Jeno, who was sitting beside you. “And I am aware that your people raise their women as fighters, and I have nothing against it; any family shall wish to raise their children in any way they please. But in the Lee household, we do not condone any of the sort. You may have already realized that women are of a scarcity to the public eye, we like to keep it that way.”

Explains why your guys look at me like they want to eat me. You raised your eyebrow, scoffing internally at where this was going. What year are we in? Or rather, what century?

“Of course, I am sure my son has already informed you of your duties as his future wife, I believe?” The man pursed his lips, focusing steadily on Jeno. “And how to properly address all men with—well-deserved respect, of course?”

There was a flash behind your eyes, telling you that if you killed this man right now, everything coming out of his disgusting mouth would cease, but you had seen it coming anyway. The misogynistic nature of the palace, the way men looked at you like you were some kind of prey that should kept away like gold, it was very obvious.

But you plastered a smile onto your face, stopping Jeno as he began to speak. “Of course, sir. I am a Park after all, as you mentioned, so I believe it will take me some time before I can become accustomed to their new—expectations. My intention here is—well—to serve as you expect.”

Jeno’s father laid out a bright smile, showing that he believed your obedient antics as he stood up with a clap of acceptance. “I expected a bit of retaliation, as you are a Park, but you seem to have understood your position. I am glad, Miss Park, that you are able to fit our high standards.”

High standards my ass. You stood up shortly after, giving a small bow as he left, walking out of the room, presumably back to his office. With a roll of your eyes, you looked back at Jeno, who was standing next to you. “You assholes really are living in the 19th century, aren’t you?”

He ran a hand through his blond hair, glancing over at you in shock of how you had just spoken to his father versus himself. “You—what the fuck? You literally just said you’d listen!”

“Ignorant Lees,” you scolded, letting out a sound of pure disgust, thinking of the way his father had just spoken to you about women as if they were an object. “No wonder we hate you. Oppression of women like this is something you all should die for.”

But I can’t kill him yet. Jeno sighed at the sight of your defient figure, knowing that you weren’t about to give into the Lee ways. “You’re in our house now, might as well just act like a Lee too. Might make your life a lot easier.”

I need to know what they want from me first. I have to find out what their obsession with me is. “Life isn’t simple, Lee, and especially not mine. I will not ‘act’ like a Lee, and I will not hesitate to slice your ears off for being ignorant.”

“Can’t you just,” he rubbed at his temples, wondering how he was even going to control you during the mission, “act like a lady? Like a girl? Be nice and shit, you know?”

With a soft growl, you jabbed sharply at the man’s stomach, making him fall back into the couch with a loud thud, gaining the attention of the other fighters. You gave them all a little smile, waving them away as you turned back to the man you were supposed to call your fiancee. “You’re fucking crazy—”

You slapped both of his thighs, making all of the others look back at you as you straddled his lap, grabbing his neck between your hands. “Lee,” you said in a hushed tone, pressing a finger to his windpipe as he attempted to speak. “You’re young, you’re handsome, and you’re an absolute idiot. Use that brain of yours to think for a bit, just a little. Think of all the time women treated you so good, listened to you like you were their master.”

Jeno’s breath hitched as your grip on his neck tightened, his surprise turning to anger and then...arousal? “They were all on their knees for you, weren’t they? Giving you exactly what you wanted, when you wanted, making you feel like you were so in control. You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Women are not any less than men,” your tone was so soft now, but harsh in his mind as your hands grew hotter and hotter in his skin. “We never were. You are the same age as me, I am not any less important that you are and most certainly not because I am a woman.”

He didn’t know if he was supposed to be finding all of this so very hot, but he couldn’t help but want the grip around his neck to tighten. Jeno watched you with as steady eyes as possible, but you could see him faltering with your movements, letting you know silently that you had won this time.

“Watch your mouth, Lee,” you spat, a little louder as you got off of him, turning away to where Mark reentered the room, calling everyone out. “It could cause you some trouble in the real world.”

“I don’t really get it either,” Mark said, gaining your attention. “I mean—I heard you talking to Jeno. I don’t really get why my father’s always so—stupid about the whole gender thing.”

You were sitting in the back of the van, beside Mark as he attempted to show you his interesting gadgets that he had set up very intricately. It wasn’t that you were necessarily interested in whatever he was showing you, but rather that there was a less likely chance of you wanting to kill him over the other Lees or Jeno.

You nodded slowly, glad that at least one person had a bit of common sense. “I haven’t—seen any women around other than my servant. Where even—are they?” The question was more to yourself than to him, the curiosity of where they were hidden in the palace intriguing you.

“There are women in the house,” he continued, typing into a laptop that was showing some corrupt-looking software. “I—have sisters. They’re in the east wing, though, away from everyone else. They aren’t allowed out of their rooms unless they want to talk with the others, and there’s an old drawing room where they all gather.”

“Men aren’t really allowed in the east wing,” Mark glanced over at you, shining remorse in his eyes. “Not unless they’re married to them. Or if—it’s their mother. I visit my mom sometimes, but I haven’t seen my sisters since—well, a long time.”

“I mean, I used to sneak up there when I was younger to talk to my sisters—and Jeno actually used to come with me, but our father found us one day and—he wasn’t happy. He gave us a long lecture about how men and women weren’t equals and whatnot, it was basically just bullshit.”

“I still go though,” he let out a short cough, avoiding your gaze. “I see my sisters in my mom’s room all the time, but other than that—I really can’t.”

Your eyes widened at his words. They don’t allow siblings to see each other? What kind of—oppression is this? Isn’t it too much? You thought back to your home, where you had grown up alongside your baby brother your entire life, caring for him so deeply.

It hurt to even think about not having a relationship with Jisung; he was probably the only other person that you truly loved other than your mother. “Are you—serious?”

“Yeah,” his voice was smaller, the clash of the keyboard masking the pain as he gulped. “Um, we’re almost there. There’s—blades in the front, and like—other weapons and stuff. I don’t think you’ll need that many, anyway, we aren’t expecting much resistance anyway.”

“I will slice your arm off,” you hissed at one of Jeno’s teammates, scowling as they eyed you as if you were candy, but then widened their eyes at your harshness. “Which one do you want? I take requests everyday, you know.”

Jeno watched the scene from behind, stepping in to grab your arm and pull you away from them, sheathing the knife you had out back into the safety of your boot. You yanked yourself back, cursing at him for having such a tight grip, wanting to punch this man as well.

You looked so—confident, in Jeno’s point of view. Maybe a little too confident from the way you always stood straight and held yourself up as if you were more powerful than any other one of the Lees in the crowd currently, and he wanted to test it. He wanted to test to see if you, a woman, were just as confident as you portrayed yourself to the people.

“Why doesn’t Park go in first?” Jeno suggested out of nowhere, the sound rattling through everyone’s ears as they looked at him. “Unless, anyone else would like to volunteer themselves? You’re free to go.”

Silence rang through the air, making you look back at the men with an eyebrow raised, surprised that no one offered themselves. Mark scurried over to where Jeno was, whispering a short few words into his ear before his brother pushed him away, scowling. “I don’t really care.”

“—Is your friendly chatter over, Lee?” You asked with an amused expression, titling your head sideways at him as he glanced back over to you. “Shouldn’t you take the lead, as well, the leader of your unit? Or would you rather pass it down to a measly little Park?”

The last word was mockery, allowing a small smirk to break from your face as he stepped closer to you. “No, I’d rather test you. As the leader, I think I’d like to see what kind of skills my future wife supposedly has.”

Future wife. The title burned a fire inside your bones, urging you to move a step forward and stab him. Future wife my ass, fucker.

“If you insist,” you continued, turning around to avoid his stance. “I’ll move in first then, if it’s such a game for you Lees. The rest can follow.”

“Don’t order my men around.”

You clenched your teeth, shooting a sharp gaze to the blond man. “The rest can follow.” Disregarding his want to start another argument, you left him behind, moving past from behind the van to where the hideout was, guarded nicely by large guards.

You wished you had been given another weapon, because the knife inside your boot was not going to kill the two of them without adding suspicion to the other. Fuck Lees and their stupidass policies. They’re gonna get themselves killed.

Well lucky for them, they had you. The blade went soaring straight into the back of the first guard, a pierce to the heart as he fell a silent thud, making the other unaware as he was turned around. You made your move them, whipping your head back once before creeping towards the man, pulling the knife out as quietly as you could.

It didn’t seem to be completely quiet, however, since the other guard had whirled back to see you crouched over the now-dead man. He raised his glock, moving to shoot at you and missing as you sent the blade into the flesh of his shin, making him fall down.

Crawling over to the other man, you wrestled the gun out of his hands slipping it into your belt as you slit his throat with a quick motion, making sure to look away as you did so. As much as you had fought and killed all your life, the one thing you could never get over was the sight of a person loosing their life, no matter how horrible their deed was.

You stood up, looking back to where you had been hiding to see no one, your eyes rolling annoyingly. Jeno has most likely ordered the rest of his fighters to the back of the hideout, giving you absolutely no backup. Eithier he had full confidence in you, or he wanted you to die, and you knew it was the latter.

Moving past the gate, you scanned the area with a quick eye, realizing that there were no other guards to be seen. It was weird, even though Mark had told you before that many weren’t going to be there, but it was odd for a hideout to have less than ten guards. Perhaps, there were more in the back?

As you moved closer to the building, you hid on the side, pressing yourself against the wall as you eased closer to the door. Just as you did so, you felt a hand pulling the glock out of your belt, making your heart jump for moment before you put a hand over the gun and swiped with your other hand, hoping to get the person in the neck.

But a tight grip was met with your wrist instead, your eyes focusing on Jeno’s as he smirked in pride. The motion made you growl, twisting your hand out of his and raising your leg up quickly, giving him a hard blow to the abdomen.

“Fucking asshole,” you watched him collapse, groaning slightly as you stepped closer, and then took a step back. “Trying to play with me? Dangerous game, Lee. Stick to your gun play, maybe, I have better physical skills.”

Just as you turned your head, a hand was on your ankle, yanking you down harshly on top of the man. It was a slight miss, the knife skimming the end of his ear as you took account to what he just did. “Physical skills? Bullshit, Park. You’re weak.”

This wasn’t the place to do any of this, but you sat up hastily anyway, wrapping one hand around his throat as you did so. Judging from the way he liked it so much earlier, you expected that he would go limp when you did that, and the assumption was correct. Your knife pulled up from beside him, coming close to his face instead.

“I’m weak? You’re the one trying to kill me when we’re here for other purposes.” You were tempted to nick his gorgeous face, let just a drop of blood trickle down those sharp features. “All you have is strength, Lee. No brain, no logic, not even a bit of skill.”

Climbing off him, you watched as he shook himself back to his senses, the huge eyes being replaced by his rough ones. “Are you admitting to not having strength then, Park? Because I’ll have to agree with you on that.”

“You’re such a child,” you said for the second time, the words hitting him with a roll of his eyes. “No wonder all you Lees are so competitive, it must be a hereditary disease. The need to be the best, what a joke.”

Jeno’s eyes flashed with your mockery towards his family, his eyes moving quickly to a new guard standing behind you, aiming with a glock towards your head. He wasn’t sure if the guard even noticed him, but he definitely thought he didn’t when a bullet went through his head, marking his death immediately.

“You talk to much but do so little,” he looked over at you, grabbing you by the arm and shoving you forward. “You haven’t proved shit to me yet, then, and I don’t care if you think my family is competitive. We fucking are, and we like to win.”

“Start boasting about skill when you’re the highest family of NCT,” he nudged you towards the entrance. “I haven’t even seen the Parks on the chain, and you know why? Because you cannot win.”

The two of you were now inside the building, pressed against the wall as you tried not to screech back. “Not everything is a game, Lee.”

“Wrong,” the both you were now at the end of the hallway, his breath hot in your ear. “The entire world is a game, Park. We’re all just a bunch of players.”

The last syllable of his word ended with a loud clink to the front of the two of you, a grenade being thrown to end of the hallway. It burst almost immediately, and surprisingly, smoke covered the area instead, the disgusting scent filling up your lungs fully.

Jeno gave out a violent cough, covering his mouth as he attempted to see through the dark colors, his eyes straining as smoke filled his vision. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone inside, it was just the drugs that they were here for, stocked high in the hideout which was barely guarded.

But he knew something was wrong, when he reached forward with his hand to feel nothing but the air, your presence completely gone. “Park? PARK?!” Jeno stretched out both his arms, feeling around him as his heart sped up, his skin only meeting the cool brick of the wall.

Fuck, he had messed up. He had one job, and that one job was to make sure you were safe. It was supposed to be easy, a way to mock you through this whole mini mission, and he had promised his father that he would look after you. You, of course, were the prize after all.

Even Mark’s warning with bright in his head from earlier, the ‘she can’t get hurt, or else you know what’ll happen’ that he had ignored with a thought of ‘nothing will happen.’ “Park?! Fuck, Park! Where the fuck are you?!”

His voice was loud, almost an imitation of himself as he heard it echo through the hallway, not a person in sight or feeling distance. “Jeno!”

Jeno whipped his head back at the sound of his name, the sound being all too familiar as he saw a light at the end of the hallway, the door being wide open as he moved closer, his vision covering him from seeing anything. As he got closer, his knees bucked, almost making him fall before the owner of the voice yanked him out, pulling him back outside.

“Did you see who set it off?” Mark pulled his brother up, his eyes scanning the other’s as he coughed out the rest of the smoke. His mind was going haywire right now, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoke or from the fact that he had completely lost you— “Jeno!”

He pushed off Mark from his body, making the other man stumbled back as he took a seat against the wall, leaning back as he rubbed at his eyes. “I fucking—”

Jeno closed his eyes again, thinking back only seconds ago to where he had just murmured into your ear, the bomb going off right as he finished. There was no way you had gotten out, he would’ve been able to at least see you make your way back.

Your presence had gone almost as quickly as it was there, like you had vanished in a single moment, as if you had never existed in the first place. He grabbed his hair in his hands, letting out a low snarl. “She was fucking—right there! Right there, Mark! She was right, fucking—in front of me. I w-was talking to her, and the bomb went off and she literally vanished.”

“You lost her?”

If only he had been more aware of what they were actually doing there, and the mission they had to finish quickly, maybe he wouldn’t have taken his time to mock you. But it wasn’t true, he would’ve done anything in his power to prove that you were less than what you seemed, and it was exactly what he tried to do, while loosing you in the process.

The smoke had dissipated after a few minutes, and a few of Jeno’s team came out the door, hands full of suitcases and bags. Even when inquired by him, they swore that it wasn’t them that set off the bomb, and that it must’ve been a trap that the owners of the hideout set up. But it didn’t make sense, when they told him that they searched the whole building and found no one; there was no fucking way that you could’ve gone away that easily.

“Maybe she ran away?” One of the men whispered to the other, making Jeno perk up to them. “That’s all girls can do anyway, fucking run away from problems like the filthy sluts they are. She should’ve stayed inside like a good girl.” The sound of degradation going to your name set something off inside of him, making him step closer to the batch of men as they chuckled heartily.

“Watch your mouth, soldier,” he grabbed the first one by the collar, pulling him up to his face. “I’ll make you bleach your tongue clean if I hear words like that coming out of you again, hear? You’re talking about Park Y/N, one of the highest ranked soldiers of NCT, and I expect some respect would go to her. Hear?”

Jeno shook of the guy, pushing him back as he turned to Mark, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. There was no way he had just defended your name, no fucking way he had just told his men to respect a Park. But that was what he did, and it had to be done; there was no denial that you were a better fighter than any of them there, even though he wouldn’t have admitted that only a few minutes ago.

And there was no way that you had run away, and he knew it. A Park never ran away from a fight, and regardless you, you were beyond any of the other Parks that he had met in the past. You sounded like you were of a higher breed, so much pride in your body that you wouldn’t have fled like a lower clan member. It was just all in the matter of where you had gone, or rather, who had taken you.

“Jeno, we have to go back,” Mark finally spoke up, his eyes trailing his brother’s as he looked up at him. “I know, I know, but we have to. Father will get—suspicious.” But he would get more suspicious when the team came back, the prized woman he was supposed to watch, gone from their hands in an instant.

He was right, the entire world was a game play, just filled with every human as tiny pawns that were unknown to the common world. But you weren’t a tiny pawn to the Lees, especially not to Jeno’s father, you were the queen on the large chess board, protecting yourself and everyone you. Yet he was wrong, wrong about your weakness, but his heart was bursting inside of him as he looked towards the ground.

“Let’s go, then.”

previous | next

well, part two!! so jeno’s not a COMPLETE asshole this time, but i think he still fits the POV. this took a while as well, so i hope y’all enjoyed and be rrrready for the next (and maybe final?) part!!

[destiniesfic]

i hate everybody (but maybe i don’t) 1/3

This is my @jurdannet​ & @jurdannetrevels​​ Secret Snusband gift for @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves​​! You tapped into a story I’d been wanting to write for ages, so you get three parts and three POVs (Vivi, Cardan, and Jude). Happy Holidays, I hope you like it. ♥ Thanks to @xdarkofthemoon​ for betaing!

This fic is rated E. Content warnings this chapter for excessive alcohol consumption, references to alcoholism, and (prescribed) antidepressant use.

Read on AO3 or read below:

Bars in Barcelona are not especially different from bars in the US. It’s a discovery Vivi has made over the course of her study abroad tenure: everything is different on the outside, but on the inside, not so much. She does like the outsides, though. She likes the tidy streets, the way the buildings don’t rise to blot out the sun as they have a habit of doing in American downtowns. She likes the cozy sameness of the facades, broken by the whimsical surprise of the odd Gaudí contribution. Like a lot of the European cities she’s visited there seems to be some unifying design principle, some common understanding. At home it’s anyone’s guess what the next office building or apartment complex might look like, a mishmash of styles as the cities clamor to reinvent themselves, modernist or postmodernist or deconstructionist or whatever.

Heather could name them all, if Heather were here.

But Heather isn’t here. Tonight, Vivi is out on the town with her two younger half-sisters, Jude and Taryn. Her twin baby sisters, although they hate it when she calls them that. The twins’ spring breaks overlapped by happy accident, so their adoptive dad, Vivi’s biological father, had sent them off on an all-expenses-paid Barcelona trip for a mini family reunion.

Taryn had been thrilled to go out. “I’m so excited that we can drink here,” she’d exclaimed, as she touched up her makeup in the AirBnB’s living room mirror. It’s a two-bed, two-bath apartment with an updated kitchen and certainly beats the dorms. Vivi was forced to give a silent, resentful thanks, Dad, but not out loud.

“You drink at home,” Jude reminded her from the bathroom, where she was trying to wrangle her hair into some style Taryn had sent her from Pinterest. “We have fake IDs.”

“It’s not the same,” Taryn had huffed, applying another coat of mascara. Vivi got that. It had not been the same when they came to Europe before, either, because they had been with Madoc, Oriana, and little Oak. Somehow parents at the table makes the glass of wine with dinner much less daring.

Jude had eventually settled on a high ponytail, and off they went.

Now they’re out at a bar not far from the AirBnB, with each of the twins perched on stools and Vivi leaning against the bar between them. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t seen them for so long except over FaceTime, but Vivi is shocked to notice that her little sisters aren’t kids anymore. They haven’t been little for a while, not since they overtook Vivi in height when they were twelve, but it’s one thing to not be little and another to be an adult. Taryn, who’s been yearning for adulthood since her tweens, finally looks more at home in the role. And Vivi doesn’t know how Taryn got Jude into that dark purple halter dress, which dips low in the front and lower in the back, but the way she wears that and her lipstick is a stark reminder that Vivi’s sisters are in fact nineteen, and no longer chubby, soft-faced children. It’s weird, and Vivi doesn’t like it.

Vivi gets hit on sometimes—with her undercut and piercings, mostly by “alternative” men and curious women—but the novelty of good-looking twins means Jude and Taryn shouldn’t need to pay for their own drinks. And they wouldn’t, except anytime a guy gets too close to Jude or Taryn, Jude adopts a laser-eyed glare and says, “No,” which is thankfully the same in both languages. Otherwise she might start speaking with fists.

“I don’t know why you won’t let us get free drinks,” Taryn pouts.

“The drinks are on Madoc,” Jude points out, nodding to the credit card Vivi puts back in her pocket. “They’re basically free.”

Taryn mutters, “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“You guys are such sisters,” Vivi says, taking a swig of beer.

“What does that mean?” they demand in unison.

Vivi grins and closes her eyes, shaking her head. For a second she just stands there, between the twins, and lets everything wash over her: the sibling bickering, the pungent smell of beer and whatever syrup is in Jude’s cocktail, and the music. Music is a strange experience in bars here. First there’s a Spanish song Vivi’s never heard, and then there’s Halsey, crooning over a Chainsmokers beat, and then back to Spanish with perennial favorite “Despacito.” It’s total whiplash. Vivi loves it.

It’s only because she’s listening so hard that she hears Taryn give a tiny gasp.

Vivi opens her eyes. Jude has gone very, very still. Her shoulders, which had been hunched up around her ears as she leaned over the bar, roll down her back, and the muscles there tense. Vivi is not sure Jude is remembering to breathe. She and Taryn are both staring at some fixed point across the bar, so Vivi looks too.

“Oh, hell,” she says.

On the other side of the bar—of the small space they are all crammed into—are four familiar figures. Three boys, one girl. Vivi has to blink to place them, because it seems absurd that four kids they went to high school with would show up in Spain while they, the Duarte sisters, are also in Spain, and also because they weren’t in Vivi’s grade. She knows them, though. Everyone knows Cardan Greenbriar and his trio of hot, mean friends, but Vivi knows them particularly well because of how her sisters have tangled with them over the years.

Taryn whispers, “What are they doing here?”

“I can go ask,” Vivi sighs. That group of kids has no quarrel with her. She and Cardan were friendly back in the day, meaning “ten years ago when Vivi would go hang out with Cardan’s older sister.”

“No,” Jude says, voice firm. Without taking her eyes off the interlopers, she picks up her cocktail and downs the rest of it.

Vivi doesn’t know exactly what happened, but Jude shed her fight-or-flight response sometime in high school. Now, she only has a fight response. Maybe Vivi took her flight response, because it was Vivi who was the terror until she turned eighteen, when she got the hell out of dodge. Taryn has always been in the middle, trying to keep the peace.

“We can go somewhere else,” Taryn suggests.

“No,” Jude repeats, setting her glass down on the bar a little too hard. “I’m not going to let those jerks keep me from having a good time.”

“Which I respect, and more power to you, but also, like, there are plenty of bars in Barcelona,” Vivi points out.

Jude glares. “I’m fine.” And then she holds up one finger in the bartender’s direction.

“You know those are really alcoholic, right?” Taryn says. Worry begins to seep into her voice like melting snow through cracks in a sidewalk.

“I know my limits.”

Vivi and Taryn exchange a wary glance. Jude might know her limits, but she has no problem blowing past them. Jude may not think Vivi remembers the tae kwon do tournament she sat through when Jude was eleven and Vivi was thirteen, but oh, Vivi does. Vivi remembers how her sister volunteered to spar until she had tired herself out to the point where she could no longer stand. Vivi also remembers Jude driving to school on a single hour of sleep after staying up to finish an extra credit essay in a class where she already had an A. Jude somehow didn’t crash her car, but she had been unbearable the entire day. Jude is a danger to herself and very occasionally a menace to society.

But Jude is also an adult and it’s not Vivi’s business.

“Suit yourself,” Vivi says, with a shrug. “It’s dear old Dad’s money.”

A few minutes later, Jude is nursing her second cocktail, and Vivi and Taryn are trying to carry on a conversation as though everything is fine. Any normal person would be well loosened up by now, but Jude retains that unnatural stillness like a dog who’s noticed a squirrel on the other side of a yard. Or, more accurately, maybe like a deer who’s spotted a human hunter approaching over the ridge.

Jude is no defenseless herbivore, but Vivi knows half a lifetime of being bullied has made her feel like a target.

“Hey,” Vivi says, jostling Jude with her elbow.

“What?”

“Tell me about your freshman year misadventures. Taryn won’t open up.”

Jude snorts. “What misadventures?”

“You have to have a few,” Vivi says. “I didn’t raise my sisters to be boring.”

“You didn’t raise us at all,” Jude mutters at her cocktail.

Vivi has never seen her sister anywhere near drunk before and is not sure she likes her like this. “What about boys?” she asks, gently elbowing Jude again. Then she raises her eyebrows. “Girls?”

“No. Nobody.” Jude finishes her second drink and, glaring across the bar, apparently makes the decision to switch to shots. “Vivi, is vodka still ‘vodka’ in Spanish?”

“I’m not answering that.” Vivi sighs. “What about you, Taryn? Anybody?”

“Huh? Um, no.” Taryn had been looking at their erstwhile schoolmates too. One of the boys, the redhead, is looking back. Locke. Vivi exhales. Bad news. There’s history there, the kind of history that shouldn’t repeat.

“Reeeeally?” she asks. “Nobody? Not one boy?”

Taryn blinks back to herself. “Vivi, I go to school for fashion design. They’re all gay.”

“Well, that can be fun.” Vivi gestures at herself. God, she wishes her sisters had brought Heather along. The hot lady bartender with the gorgeous tattoo sleeve keeps trying to catch her eye, and Vivi and Heather had established a “what happens in Barcelona stays in Barcelona” policy before she left, but Vivi doesn’t want a hot lady bartender. She wants her girlfriend.

“Yeah, they’re cool.” Taryn glances back across the bar. Now the blue-haired girl—Nicasia, Vivi recalls—is looking back, along with Locke. Not good.

Since Jude is negotiating for a shot of vodka with hot lady bartender in competent enough Spanish, Vivi lowers her voice and asks Taryn, “Are you feeling especially homesick?”

“We’ve kept in touch.” Taryn doesn’t meet her eyes.

Vivi would hold more of a grudge if someone had tried to sleep with her and her sister, but that’s very much not her circus or her monkeys. She asks, “Did you know he’d be here?”

Taryn shakes her head. “He said they were doing a European tour for spring break, but, like, it’s a big continent.”

“Good news,” says Jude, holding up a shot glass. “It’s vodka in both languages. Cheers.”

“You are going to be sick,” Taryn says.

Jude gives her a sarcastic shrug and then downs the shot. She coughs a little, which somewhat ruins the impression she’s trying to make, but swallows it all down.

“Jude,” Vivi says, beginning to worry, “we really can just leave.”

But Jude is looking at her old high school nemeses again. Cardan had been a particular thorn in her side, or he in hers; Vivi never made sense of that conflict, of who had started what. What she does know is that they’ve definitely been spotted now. The blond boy—Vivi doesn’t quite remember his name—seems to make a move to walk over to them, but Cardan reaches out and grabs his arm, shaking his head. Valentine? Valentino? looks sour, but doesn’t approach. Jude stares them both down.

“I have to use the bathroom,” Taryn announces. “El baño.” Taryn had taken French in high school.

“But—” Vivi begins.

Taryn has already vanished into the crowd. Vivi puts her elbows on the bar and cradles her head in her hands. “This is all going great.”

“Not how you pictured our night out on the town?” asks Jude, who has obtained another shot of vodka from God knows where.

“Yeah, not really.”

“Well, I can fix it.” Jude drinks her second shot and does not cough this time. “I’m going to go talk to them.”

Vivi picks up her head. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“So what?”

“Dad’s going to hold me responsible if anything happens to you.”

Jude fixes a level stare on her. “Dad never holds you responsible for anything,” she says. She slips a little when she gets up off her stool. Vivi wonders if she’s really thinking about fighting someone in those heels.

“You’re mean drunk,” Vivi tells her, trying to grab her arm. “Don’t go.”

“I’m mean sober, but nobody notices,” says Jude, which doesn’t make any sense. She shakes Vivi off. “Besides, I have a few things I want to say.”

And for the second time that night, Vivi watches as one of her sisters pushes her way into the crowd of people, unsure if she should follow or not. Maybe it’ll be good for Jude, in the end, to get some of this out of her system.

The guys across the room are watching Jude approach. Cardan especially. The blond guy is sneering, but Cardan watches Jude with the same strange stillness with which she’d watched him. Like he’s holding his breath until she gets there. Unlike Jude, he doesn’t seem that drunk at all, which Vivi notices because, well, it’s a rare day that Cardan Greenbriar isn’t drunk.

But he is too busy watching her and not his blond friend, who decides that he’s going to intercept Jude before she can even reach Cardan. He pushes over to her first and bars her way, and although Vivi is too far away to hear what’s said between them, she notices the squaring of Jude’s shoulders and the widening of the blond guy’s sneer. Because she is watching closely, she sees that Valerian is the one who shoves Jude first.

Valerian. That’s his name.

It clicks right before Jude punches him in the face.

The bar erupts. Cardan springs to his feet and tries to pull his friend away from Jude. A couple of nearby patrons try to save Jude from herself—Vivi could have told them it was a fool’s errand—by holding her back, not knowing Jude has sharp elbows. Valerian struggles hard and manages to break away from Cardan, only to find himself being grabbed by more pairs of hands. There is shouting in Spanish. Even the hot lady bartender is drawn away, trying to signal her coworkers.

The most Vivi-like thing to do would be to leave Jude to it and keep her nose clean. But Vivi remembers asking Madoc on the day of that fateful tae kwon do tournament, while they revived Jude with sips of Gatorade, why Madoc hadn’t stopped Jude when it became clear she was flagging. “Your sister needs to learn for herself when to stop fighting,” he’d said. “If I make those calls for her, she never will.”

Vivi has a lot of qualms with Madoc’s parenting style, and Taryn is nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hell,” Vivi says again, and she dives into the knot of drunk brawlers to pull her sister from the fray.

---

“I can’t believe you got us kicked out,” Vivi says.

Jude, drunk, hapless Jude, is sitting on the curb with her head between her knees, presumably trying not to barf. There’s still enough anger left in her to flip Vivi off.

“Unbelievable.” Vivi folds her arms and looks left, then right. It seems like a good quarter of the bar spilled out onto the sidewalk with them, a crowd of people chattering about what just happened. Forget kicked out, Jude’s lucky she wasn’t arrested. “Do you see Taryn anywhere?”

“What do you think?”

Vivi pinches the bridge of her nose. Taryn will be fine. She has the AirBnB address and a phone she can use on WiFi. Besides, as far as Vivi knows, she ran off with Locke. Vivi hasn’t seen the two of them come out of the bar yet, and she would not be surprised. She knows a bad decision when she sees one.

“You keep sitting down,” Vivi tells Jude. “I’m going to figure out a ride home.”

“Your face should keep sitting down,” Jude mumbles spitefully.

“Hey, guys? Vivi?”

Vivi cringes as soon as she hears the voice, because she knows the voice, and because in this situation the owner of that voice will only make things worse. Vivi doesn’t have any personal grudge against Cardan Greenbriar—they’ve even sometimes been friends—except for how her sister feels about him. Taryn’s always said he was kind of a dick, but Taryn doesn’t hate him like Jude does. Nobody hates anybody the way Jude hates Cardan. Vivi wonders if Jude has something to prove.

Sure enough, Jude’s head swivels at the sound of his voice like the kid’s head turning around in The Exorcist. “You,” she snarls, and then stumbles to her feet.

“Jude,” Vivi says, trying to catch her sister’s dress to pull her back, but Jude is already out of reach. With another sigh, Vivi stands too.

“What are you doing here?” Jude demands of Cardan, openly hostile. It would be funny, because Jude is a full head shorter than him, if Jude was anybody else’s sister. “We were all having a great time until you showed up.”

“It’s anybody’s city,” Cardan says, but he doesn’t seem to be mocking her. He holds up his hands to show her they are empty.

“Go the fuck home!” Jude yells, and shoves him, sending him back a couple of steps.

Vivi shouts, “Woah!”

“It’s okay,” Cardan tells Vivi over Jude’s head. “She’s not hurting me. Let her get it out.”

With a little cry, Jude pushes him again, and this time he only stumbles back a half-step, but he keeps his hands up and his stance somewhat grounded. The next time Jude shoves him he doesn’t budge at all, and Jude lets out a grunt of frustration, fisting her hands in his jacket.

And then she bursts into tears.

“Oh,” says Vivi, but Cardan doesn’t seem that surprised. She wonders if he’s used to people behaving badly while drunk or just being drunk himself.

“You’re so a-awful,” Jude says between sobs. “Everything’s awful all the time.”

“I know, Jude,” Cardan replies. He gently pries the jacket out of her fists so he can remove it and drape it over her bare shoulders. Jude grabs onto his shirt instead.

“Why do you hate me so much?” she asks, with a small hiccup.

“I don’t,” Cardan replies. His hand rubs circles between his shoulder blades. “But I hope you’re too drunk to remember that.” He looks up at Vivi, and Vivi feels a brief flash of embarrassment, like she’s intruded on something intimate, before she remembers that they’re in public and, also, she has no shame. “Were you going to get a taxi? I can keep an eye on her while you do. I don’t think she should walk back.”

“Oh.” Vivi blinks. “Yeah. I’ve got it. Where’s your ‘friend?’”

“Sent him packing. He’s back at the hotel, or he should be.”

“Well… good.”

But Cardan isn’t listening. He’s already looking down at Jude again.

It turns out Vivi has, carelessly, let her phone die. She isn’t anal about things like that. Taryn’s the one who keeps a charger in her purse at all times, but Taryn has vanished, and Jude’s phone only works on WiFi outside of the States.

So they hail one of Barcelona's bumblebee-like taxis the old-fashioned way, and Vivi is the one who climbs into the passenger’s seat and tells the driver where to go in Spanish that’s fluent, if definitely not Spain-Spanish. It is deeply ironic that Vivi, the only sister without a drop of Duarte blood in her veins, is the one who speaks Spanish the best. But Jude and Taryn were only seven when their parents died. Vivi had been nine. Two years makes a big difference with these things, especially because memories are shaping and re-shaping themselves in the minds of children that young. As far as the twins’ brains are concerned, they only had their parents for a short time.

Vivi remembers more. She remembers sitting on the counter in the old kitchen, legs swinging, as her dad cooked on Fridays—the special day, the end of the week day—and pointing at things in the kitchen so Justin could tell her their names in Spanish and she could echo them back. Cebolla, onion. Queso, cheese, of course. Cuchara, spoon. The words had a favor of their own, different from the English words she learned in kindergarten. She remembers the smell of toasting coriander seeds, the bright songs her dad would hum, the vibrant melodies bursting from the CD player Vivi leaned her elbow on. When she got far enough along in school, she threw herself into Spanish, hoping the words would pave a road that would lead her back to the man who shaped her.

Sometimes Jude gets in a sulk about their awful twist of fate, or Taryn gets weepy, and Vivi just wants to yell Justin Duarte was my dad, too! She feels like her throat is raw from screaming it her entire adolescence. It was easier in the end to just move away for college.

She ended up in Spain because Madoc and Oriana weren’t keen on her going to Mexico. Oh, sure, they’d been before on vacation no problemo, but as soon as Vivi wanted to go alone it was game over. No matter how much Vivi told them it was very racist of them and a total double standard. Apparently Oriana didn’t want her getting kidnapped. Vivi, who has in fact seen the movie Taken, knows she can get kidnapped in Europe just as easily, thanks very much. That had not been a persuasive argument with Madoc.

So here she is, in Barcelona, where familiar words can have entirely different flavors, and that’s even before getting to Catalan, which she can now speak a little but not well. Most of the time, she’ll be honest, she does love it here. At this moment she’s not feeling charitable toward anything.

Cardan helps load Jude into the backseat of the taxi. The driver, looking in the rearview mirror, asks, “¿Su novio?”

“¿Qué?” Vivi asks reflexively. She cranes her head around to see Cardan sliding in next to Jude, his arm around her shoulder. She switches to English. “What the hell, dude?”

“She won’t let go,” Cardan says simply. It’s true; Jude is clinging to him like a very weepy barnacle, her shoulders still shaking.

“Alright, well.” Vivi turns back around. It’s good to have the extra pair of hands. She wishes again that Heather was here. “You’re the official Jude wrangler now.”

“Copy that. I just—” He sighs, and in the rearview, Vivi sees him rub his face with his free hand. “It’s my fault.”

“Sure is.” The taxi begins to pull away from the curb, and Vivi checks her anger. She amends, “Actually, no, it’s not your fault that my sister’s a lightweight and an angry drunk. But from what I hear, the years of prior psychological damage are totally your fault. So, credit where credit is due.”

Cardan nods. Jude sniffles forlornly. Vivi is intrigued by how gentle he’s being with her, how tolerant. His shirt looks like a regular cotton tee, but knowing him it probably costs about the same as a single night in their very nice AirBnB. He doesn’t seem to mind that Jude’s getting snot and tears all over it.

“Hate you,” Jude mutters, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Hate this.”

“I know.” He pushes a lock of hair that’s escaped from her ponytail. “What are you on?”

“Huh?” There’s a pause. Vivi is watching the road now, but she can imagine Jude’s confused blinking. “I don’t… drugs.”

“Meds.”

“Oh, um, fuck.” Another pause. “Zoloft. I switched this year.”

“You’re not supposed to drink on that stuff,” Cardan says, but it almost sounds like he’s teasing. “It messes you up. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

Jude sniffs. “It’s not like I’m operating heavy machinery,” she says, slurring slightly.

Cardan chuckles. “I did the Zoloft thing, too. I’m not on it anymore, though.”

“‘Cause you couldn’t drink?”

“Like anything would stop me.” He pauses, and Vivi looks into the rearview mirror to find him biting his lower lip in an exaggerated way, so drunk Jude is sure to get the joke. “No, there were... personal reasons.”

Jude is utterly nonplussed. “What?”

“Ah, you know…” He leans over and whispers something to her. Her eyes widen, and then she lets out a small, nervous chuckle. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I was like ‘If I can’t have sex, won’t that just make me more depressed?’”

To Vivi’s great surprise, Jude giggles. A totally surreal sound. She hasn’t giggled like that in years, if ever.

“There we go,” says Cardan, weirdly indulgent. “No more crying. Or, well—oh, okay,” he adds, as Jude turns her head and begins quietly sobbing into the sleeve of his shirt. “I guess some more crying.”

“You seem very sober,” Vivi remarks.

“Yeah, I’m trying it on. Just club soda for me tonight.” He leans over to rest his head on top of Jude’s. “It, cómo se dice, sucks.”

“Like your accent.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Vivi is beginning to get vaguely suspicious. She says, “But you are handling this well. Just used to dealing with a lot of drunks?”

“Huh? Oh.” Cardan’s dark eyes flick up to meet Vivi’s in the mirror. “This isn’t the first time. Jude got wasted at prom, after the stuff with Locke and Taryn came to light. Completely trashed.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You were finishing up sophomore year, right? In like, Massachusetts? And it’s not like she would have told you. If she’s lucky, she doesn’t remember it. I loaded her into the Uber that took her home.”

Vivi’s stomach twists, but she channels the newfound sister guilt into suspicion and narrows her eyes. “Decent of you.”

“Yeah, I was trying that out, too. Got puked on for the trouble.” Cardan leans his head back against the headrest now. Jude’s sobs have quieted down. “But I still remember the Four Phases of Drunk Jude Duarte.”

“I’m glad somebody does,” Vivi admits. “What are they?”

“Angry, weepy, horny, sick.”

She snorts. “Basically Snow White’s shittiest dwarves.”

“Basically,” Cardan agrees. “But you’re not in danger of her getting sick yet, because we haven’t hit—ah. Um. Well.” He clears his throat. “Never mind.”

Vivi looks up into the mirror again to see Cardan plucking Jude’s hand off of him and returning it to her. “Did we just hit horny?”

“We just hit horny,” he says, his voice strained. Jude has her face buried in his neck again, but this time for entirely different reasons. The hand he had returned to Jude is already sliding back down his shirt. “Okay, hands above the waist. No, above—”

“Oh my God.” Vivi covers her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“Great. Very helpful, Vivienne,” Cardan says, grabbing Jude’s wrist and holding it still. It speaks to their relationship as nearly family friends that he can use her full name without invoking her wrath. “Your sister is outright molesting me and you can’t even tell her to knock it off?”

He doesn’t sound totally panicked, though. “I think you might want my sister to molest you,” Vivi guesses, turning around in her seat to look at him. Somehow, Jude has managed to thoroughly drape herself across him, but Cardan is showing admirable and frankly uncharacteristic self-restraint by keeping her from doing anything that can’t be undone. “Just a little.”

“When she’s sober. Jude, don’t bite my ear. Jude—”

Vivi snickers. The rest of the short ride passes like that, with Cardan deflecting Jude’s advances and Vivi deflecting the taxi driver’s questions about what exactly is happening back there and whether Jude is going to be sick all over his floor mats. They are lucky enough to not hit ���sick” until Jude is out of the car and walking up the five stairs to the door of the apartment building. With Cardan’s warning in mind, Vivi is able to jump back in time.

Cardan, who is nearer to Jude, is not so lucky. She leans against the railing and doubles over it, but his shoes and the bottoms of his jeans are still caught in the splash zone. “Okay, great,” he says, gathering her back up. He does not sound entirely tolerant now, but he also doesn’t sound as angry as Vivi might expect. “That’s over. Feel any better?”

“No,” Jude mutters.

“You might in the morning.” He moves them both so Vivi can pass and open the door. “Man, is this really only the second time this has ever happened to you? I have to say, I’m jealous. Not of you in this moment, of course. Just in general.”

“We can’t all be charming teenage alcoholics,” Vivi says, propping the door open so Cardan can help her through.

“You hear that, Jude?” Cardan asks. “Your sister thinks I’m charming.”

“Uh-huh,” says Jude.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Vivi warns. “She’s almost out. Let’s get her upstairs.”

Jude doesn’t make it into the bedroom she and Taryn are sharing. They put her to bed on the couch, on her side, with Cardan’s jacket draped over her. There’s no laundry machine in the AirBnB, but Vivi finds some detergent in the cabinet and they fill the bathroom sink with lukewarm water so Cardan can wash his jeans. Vivi is not sure the right time for the conversation she should have is now, when Cardan is standing in his boxer briefs and Jude is passed out in the next room, but on the bright side, there probably isn’t a worse time.

“You know, I didn’t think we had this level of friendship,” Cardan remarks, dunking his jeans in the sudsy water. “Dealing with your sister must really be a bonding experience. You always liked Rhyia best.”

“Well, Rhyia’s cool.” Vivi folds her arms and leans in the doorway. She kicked off her boots when they got in the door, so Cardan now looks even taller, although certainly not very intimidating in his underwear. “Calvin Klein. Nice. You always struck me as more of a boxers guy, I have to say.”

“Sometimes. These jeans are pretty tight, though.” He looks over at her. “Do you need something?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, nothing. I just can’t believe you’re trying to fuck my sister.”

“I’m not trying to fuck your sister,” Cardan says, massaging his jeans in the sink in such a way that Vivi is forced to wonder whether he’s ever done his own laundry. “She’s wasted. And she hates me.”

Vivi frowns deeply.

Cardan asks, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Vivienne Leigh—”

“Don’t you pull out my full name for this. You’re playing some game here and I will figure out what it—oh.”

“What now?”

Vivi squints at him. “Are you in love with my sister?”

Cardan lets out an exhausted sigh. “Taryn isn’t really my type.”

They both know they aren’t talking about Taryn. “What the fuck. How long?”

“Like a year. Or maybe my whole life. I’m not sure.”

“Does she know?”

“I really hope not.” Cardan grimaces at his reflection in the mirror, and then looks past himself to see where Jude sleeps on the couch. “She’d never let me live it down.”

“Okay, well…” Vivi pauses. This is more older sibling responsibility than she signed up for. “What are your… intentions?”

“I don’t have any.” Vivi purses her lips, and he adds, “I really don’t. I wasn’t expecting to see her tonight. I kind of thought I’d never see her again after we graduated.” He pauses and looks down at the sink. “I think, someday, I’d like to be a person she likes. That she’s capable of liking.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Huh.” He has it really, really bad. Vivi can’t imagine what Jude said or did to make him feel that way about her. Maybe it was her total lack of regard for him? “Is this why you bullied her for years?”

“I hope not!” Cardan exclaims, in a way that suggests this thought has occurred to him before, and moreover, that it actually bothers him. “I don’t know! I don’t want to be that fucking cliché, Vivi.”

“We’re all cliché in our own special ways,” Vivi says, glancing back at Jude. A vague plot is beginning to take shape in her brain. Jude is the plotter, Taryn the planner—there is a difference—and Vivi the pantser, normally. But there is something here that she thinks she can exploit. “Seeing as you have no pants, you should probably stay over. I don’t think any of our clothes will fit you.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. You can have one of the twin beds.” After a beat, she adds, “I’m not telling you which one is Jude’s.”

“Darn,” Cardan deadpans. “Now I don’t know which one to jerk off in.”

Vivi pulls a face. “That’s the idea.” And then, because Cardan is hopeless, she reaches forward and yanks the plug from the drain. “Rinse off your jeans in clean water. Otherwise they’ll dry all stiff and soapy.”

“Thank you for the advice, oh wise one.”

She rolls her eyes and leaves him to it. After checking on Jude, whose coloring and breathing are both normal, she heads back to her room and looks at her phone. Nothing from Taryn, even though it’s later than Vivi thought, but Vivi isn’t worried. Taryn’s kind of like a cat in that, somehow, she always manages to land on her feet. Vivi fires off a quick text to her, then stares at the glowing screen, thinking about the way Cardan had rested his head on top of Jude’s in the back of the taxi.

She texts Heather: sisters are a lot of work

And:

i wish you were here

It’s much earlier in New England. When the three dots pop up to indicate that Heather is typing a reply, Vivi smiles.

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Part 2 Steven Hyde x Reader

Author’s Note: I hope you really enjoyed Part 1! Here is part 2 and I’ll put a link to access part 1 if it’s your first time being here. Leave a heart and subscribe to my blog if you want more! Thank you and stay safe, folks. 

Warnings: None

Part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/elianamarie-blog

The next morning, Y/N found herself waking up at noon. She cursed at herself because she hated waking up late knowing her day was now gone, but at least it’s Saturday and her day off from work. She dragged herself out of bed and trudged her way down into the kitchen where she was greeted with Red, Kitty, Steven, and Eric eating lunch at the table.

           “Well, good morning, sunshine,” Kitty greeted, looking up from her glass of lemonade. “Or should I say ‘afternoon?’”

           Y/N yawned as she plopped herself in a chair across from her mother. “I was up late last night.”

           “Doing what?” Red questioned like she didn’t have any good excuse.

            Y/N eternally cursed herself as her eyes flitted towards Hyde’s wide ones for a split second. She didn’t think this through. “I-I just couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning.”

           “Again?” Kitty asked. “This has been happening for the last couple months. You might be suffering from insomnia. At first I thought it was because of your finals and looking for colleges, but this has gone longer than that. You might have insomnia.”

           She chuckled to herself, relieved. “Yeah, probably do.” She grabbed a sandwich from the middle of the table and at the bag of chips, dumping it on her plate.

           “Eric, what’s your plan for today?” Red asked.

           “Well, since I’m on my one year of doing nothing, I’m going to answer with nothing,” he responded with no emotion in his voice.

           “Wrong,” Red answered harshly, like he normally does when he spoke to Eric. “You’re going to trim the hedges, sweep the driveway, and fix the dent on the Vista Cruiser.”

           “Dad, that’s like eighty bucks!” Eric cried. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

           “Then it looks like you’re going to have to get a job!” Red said.

           “But that just interferes with my plan!”

           “Exactly,” Red responded slowly. “If you’re going to live in my house you will do as I say. Or you can drive around town with that big ass dent.”

           Eric thought it over for a split second before pointing at Red. “Can’t Y/N pay for it? She has a job.”

           “No!” he said. “She’s not the one who put the dent there.”

           “Neither did I!” Eric argued. “Mr. Fitzgerald ran into me.”

           “And don’t worry, I already talked to him, but unfortunately our insurance won’t cover it. So it falls on you to replace it.”

           “This totally blows, man. I’d rather drive around town with the dent.”

           Red rolled his eyes at his son and turned to face him fully. “Why can’t you be like your sister? She got a job straight out high school working at the bridal store, applied for college in Denver, and has her life planned out. While you sit there eating my food, taking up my heat, taking up space, being a no-good bum.”

           “Red, honey, that’s enough,” Kitty interjected. “Let’s just enjoy our lunch.”

           “Dad, I only stayed because of your heart attack!” He shot back at his ill-tempered father. “You know, to take care of you guys. I could be in Madison right now.”

           “And that’s worked out great so far, hasn’t it?” Red spat.

           “You’re so ungrateful!” Eric said, clearly hurt. “Why can’t you just say ‘thank you’ for once?”

           “I would if you just do something around the house,” he responded, his voice raising. “Pick up on household chores, work and bring a paycheck home, help your mother out, take me to doctors appointments. Anything other than sitting around all day playing you’re your toys.”

           “Red, you’re going to give yourself another heart attack,” Kitty informed him. “You need to calm down.”

           Red put his hands up. “Fine, fine. But I want those chores done today, Eric. And if you half-ass it, I’m going to make you do it all over again, plus cleaning out the gutters and fixing the leak under the bathroom sink.”

           Eric grunted. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

           Red nodded, pleased he won the argument and turned back to his meal. It was silent for a moment, the air thick with tension. Hyde and Y/N just sat there, eating quietly and stiffened. Well, not so much Hyde because it was always amusing seeing Red yell at Eric, but for Y/N it was different. Even though she was used to the constant fighting, their argument had never been this intense.

           “So,” Kitty said, clearing her throat, trying to ease the conversation. “Steven, how’s work going?”

           “Oh, you know, working at the kitchen is great,” he said, taking a chip to his mouth. “Ever since Kelso and Eric left, things have been pretty quiet. We hired a new server so it makes things a little easier.”

           Kitty beamed proudly at him. “I’m glad to hear it. What about you, dear?” she asked turned to Y/N .

           “It’s good,” she responded. “Helping brides pick out their dresses. It’s nice and easy.”

           “Well, good,” Kitty replied and patted her hand. “I’m so proud of you. Although, you’re going to have to leave me to go to Denver.” Her smile turned into a sad one and her voice cracked.

           “Mom, I haven’t even been accepted yet,” Y/N responded, trying to comfort her mother. “Who knows, I might end up going to the college in Kenosha or staying to go to the community college here.”

           Hyde sat up a little straighter, hope filling him.

           “Have you applied to them?” Red asked.

           “Well, I applied to Denver first and then if I didn’t get in, I was going to apply to Kenosha. If that didn’t work out, then the community college here since I can just go sign up.”

           Red beamed at her proudly. “That’s my girl.”

            Y/N smiled up at him. He can be a hard ass, but seeing him smile proudly at her and being the softy he was with her, made it all worth it. “Thanks, Daddy.”      

           “What are you going to study?” Kitty asked and suddenly all eyes were on Y/N . Kitty was hoping she’d follow in her footsteps and become a nurse, but Y/N wasn’t too sure if she even wanted that.

           “Um,” she stumbled, gulping. “I’m not sure. I was thinking either engineering or automotive.”

           “Oh, honey, you don’t want to do that,” Kitty said, handing her another sandwich.

           “Why not?” Red asked before Y/N could. “She’s knowledgeable about that kind of stuff. Hell, I’ve taught her all about cars and the mechanics. Unlike dumbass over here.”

           “Hey!” Eric called out. “We both know that I am not strong enough to hold up a tire.”

           “Yeah,” Red said, dragging it out and glared at him. “I know.”

           “Mom, why shouldn’t I study those?” Y/N asked.

           “Well, you don’t want to work in a man’s place,” she responded. “It’s dirty and hot, and it’s super hard to do. Besides, you’ll just distract the boys from doing their jobs.”

           While Hyde’s mind went to dirty places after hearing the words dirty, hot, and hard, he noticed Y/N getting visible angry.  

           “Really?” she hissed. “You think I can’t handle it because I’m a woman? Or smart enough? If I can do the job, why does it matter? I am not and will not be responsible for the other guys not getting their job done because they’re too stupid to do their job.”

           “C’mon, Y/N , you deserve better,” she said. “You don’t have to work there. Why don’t you work at the hair salon? Or better yet, sell Tupperware?”

           “No, mom!” Y/N said. “I want to do something meaningful with my life. I don’t want to fit into societal norms. I deserve a well paying job just as much men do.”

           “Kitty, let her decide what she wants,” Red spoke up. “We’re not going to be living her life. You didn’t say anything to Laurie when she went to beauty school.”

           “Yeah, well, it’s not like she has many options anyway,” she responded.

           “But I do and you’re trying to limit me?”

           “Oh, honey, don’t take it so personally,” Kitty said, trying to deflate the conversation. “You’re the smart one out of all of us and I just want you to have a better life.”

           “I’m sitting right here,” Eric whined.

           “Yeah, but you don’t what you want to do yet. Figure it out and then come talk to us,” Kitty said and turned back to Y/N . “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

           “Kitty, you can’t limit her just because you don’t want to her get hurt. That’s not fair.”

           Kitty sighed. “Fine, do whatever you want.”

            Y/N rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to go check the mail.” She slammed her plate in the sink and stomped out the swinging door.

           “Way to go, Kitty,” Red said and stood up tp put his plate in the sink. “You had to anger her by telling her that.”

           “What, this is my fault now?” Kitty defended.

           Red looked at her emotionless. “Yes.”

           “Well, excuse me for wanting a better future for my baby girl!” She cried. “I’m relieved that we don’t have another Laurie and all I wanted for her was to be safe! But. I’m just terrible mother who can’t control her kids. Is a peace of mind for a mother really too much to ask?!” She screamed and finished her huge scene by grabbing her emergency bottle of wine and stomped upstairs to her bedroom.

           “Aw, crap,” Red groaned. “Even when she’s wrong, she’s right.”

           “Women, man,” Hyde said and put his plate in the sink as well. “From what I learned about women, they’re always right and we’re always wrong.”

           “Well, I’m glad my Donna isn’t like that,” Eric spoke up, also bringing his plate to the sink. “She will apologize to me if she did wrong. She’s smart like that.”

           “Yeah, but she has you whipped like 99% of the time,” Hyde shot back.

           “Not true!” Eric defended.

           “Man, you so are!” Hyde said, laughing. “What happened last week? You wanted to go watch Star Wars for the billionth time and she wanted to see a chick flick. And what did you end up seeing? The chick flick.”

           “Well, if I hadn’t she wouldn’t have let—” he stopped dead short when he saw Red staring at him. “She wouldn’t have let me kissed her goodnight on the cheek. Like the innocent and responsible adults we are.”

           Red rolled his eyes. “Can it. I’m going to check on your mother and if I don’t see you doing what I asked in five minutes, I’m going to put my foot so far up your ass, I’ll be able to control you like a puppet.” With that, he pushed the swinging door open and exited out to check on Kitty.

           “Forman, you should write a book ‘Things Red Threatened To Put In My ass.’ Chapter one: His foot.”

           Eric could only roll his eyes and exit the kitchen to start on those dreadful chores.

           Hyde decided to go check on Y/N once Eric was out of sight. He took the steps two at time until he came across Y/N’s room. He knocked on the door and gently opened the door.

           “ Y/N?”

           She was sitting at her desk, looking over the college pamphlets. “Hey,” she replied miserably.

           He shut the door and sat on her bed. “You okay, man? That was intense what happened down there.”

           “Yeah” she replied curtly, but not towards him. “It’s so typical of my mother to try to control everything I do. I’m not Laurie so she feels like I’m not good enough to make own decisions.”

           “She just doesn’t want you to be like her,” Hyde defended. “You’re the only child that your parents don’t worry because you have your head screwed on straight.”

           She looked at him with a defeated look. “I know, but there’s other ways about it,” she responded and sat down next to him.

           “Your mom doesn’t want you to leave,” he continued.

           “Well, I need to,” she said without thinking about it. She noticed hurt flash across his face. “I mean, it’s not like I want to, really. I want to explore the world and see what it has to offer me, but staying here is not going to give me that.”

           “I know,” he sighs. “It just sucks hearing you talk about it.”

           “I know, I’m sorry,” she said and grabbed his hand. Right there, she wanted to invite him to come along with her, but she was afraid. Afraid that he would run away. Then what if she doesn’t get accepted? Then she’s going to have to deal with seeing him everyday and make it harder for her to move on., but little did she know he was secretly hoping for the same thing. Just like her, he was terrified to ask her. He didn’t want to show too much vulnerability. After seeing what his mom went through, he doesn’t want to get into a relationship and then move away only for them to break up. And then what? He’d be stuck there, or worse, she’d see him for who he truly is and run away. It was easier for him to keep everything hidden than to spill it.

           “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m going to do whatever I want regardless what my mom says.”

           “Did you check the mail?” he asks, changing the subject.

           “Yeah, nothing yet.”

           He stared down at their entwined hands. “I don’t know why this is so hard for us to talk about,” she said. “It’s not like we’re in a committed relationship. “

           His heart dropped at hearing that, but why? They were both on the same page. It’s not like it meant nothing, but it meant something. It may have even started off that way, but it definitely wasn’t like that now. They wanted to make it official but the sneaking around and hiding it from everyone kind of prevented it from happening. Even if they did, it would be saying goodbye so much harder.

           He knew he was in for it when they started. He had never felt this way about anyone before. And that scared him. He was afraid to lose her which sucked because he never felt that fear with anyone, but she was different. She made him feel at home, at peace. She made him a better man. He was actually happy. Before, he had trouble running in with the law and relatively being a jerk to everyone. Hyde was a good friend, but showed it differently than the average man. When it came to women, he hardly ever got attached. Women would leave anyway once they found out the true him. Or at least, the side that he wanted them to see. She saw his heart, through the wall he built up, and tore it down. With her, he wanted her to tear it down because for once in life, he was able to trust someone that wasn’t within his normal group, but even then this was way different with him. He finally felt safe and didn’t have to be ready to run if he had to.

           She knew that if she stayed here, she would have Steven, but her future would be bleak. She knew if she left the state, she would be able to accomplish so much more. But the thought of leaving him was almost unbearable to her, which confused her. She knew what she was getting into when they started seeing each other. She knew it would be just a fling, but the more they did it, the more they connected; spiritually and physically. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. She wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for him, but she did. Even though they clearly like each other, she didn’t want to suggest anything more in fear of rejection. What if he didn’t feel the same way? It’d be easier to leave, but she doesn’t want to forget him and go without him. If more than anything, she wanted him to join her. The only way she would find out is by asking.

           “Yeah,” he scoffed. “It’d be stupid of us to do that since you might be leaving.”

           “Well, um,” she began, suddenly feeling so nervous that she started shaking. He felt it and held her hand tighter.

           “Are you okay?”

           “Yeah, ‘m fine,” she responded and looked into his shades, even though she was trying to look into his eyes. “Maybe, we…we don’t have to split up.”

           His eyebrows came together which made her more nervous for his answer. “What d’you mean?”

           She took a deep breath. “Maybe…you can come with me.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES {Quarterback AU}

Summary: When his brother forces him to go on a double date with him and with a girl that absolutely hates Grayson, he’s forced to realize that their mutual disdain might have been caused by his own actions.

Warnings: swearing, a lot of banter

Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N - this is sort of a version of This Is War (Ethan frat/soulmate fic), but there are no soulmates here. It’s probably bad since I stress wrote it instead of studying, but it’s also kind of fun? I guess I’m a sucker for enemies trope. Also, I am writing Fix me finale, but it will take me a while because I am back in college for the next month and a half or so and I have back to back exams every 2 or 3 days. Hope you guys understand and I hope you like this one as well. 

*                                    *                                        *

Ethan never thought he'd have to beg his brother to accompany a beautiful woman on a date, but he still found himself in front of his arm-crossed twin and his defiant glare.

„No. Not happening.“ Grayson is adamant, refusing to budge and most definitely not when it's her who they want him to go out with. Why can't they find someone else to be their double date?! He just didn't see the sanity in that decision.

„I'm asking as a brother!“ Ethan pulled his twin card, hoping to see change in Grayson who simply laughed in his face before turning his back on him, still stubbornly refusing to even consider it.

„Bruh, never gonna happen.“

Rolling his eyes, Ethan's annoyance grows as he's forced to walk in front of his brother who seems damn determined to fuck up his night even after he tried to bribe him with chores, cash, even his dear Smooth cat.

„She's Amina's best friend. I am begging you, please, don't make me call mom on you.“ And that's when he played the ultimate card – the mom card. There isn't a woman in the world as important to Grayson as his mother, but then again, there isn't a woman as capable of making him do things he'd never want to do.

„Seriously? Playing the mom card now? What are we, like 10? Plus, why would she even want me as a date?! She fucking hates me and I'm pretty sure she's mental. You're putting your favorite brother in the line of fire.“ Reasoning with Ethan had never been fruitful in the past, but even as he watches Ethan shrug his pleas off his shoulders, Grayson clings to some hope he'd manage to escape this whole ordeal. It's probably the only time he had ever regretted being a playboy instead of having a girlfriend...taken men can't be forced into dates with their worst enemy.

„Favorite? You're my only brother, Grayson. It does not make you necessarily a favorite.“ Ethan retorted with furrowed eyebrows before tossing a white, classy shirt at his brother's chest. „Now get ready and be nice tonight, okay?“

Nostrils flared as he inhales deeply, staring daggers at Ethan's back as he leaves the room, Grayson yells after him: „No promises!“

To say he spent the entire drive over to the restaurant sulking would be an understatement. The last thing, absolutely the last thing, Grayson wanted to do now is to spend a few hours around Y/N Y/L/N.

You know those girls that are always seemingly fun but will cut you down with just a look if you make a single misstep? The girls that may be smaller than guys but cause terror in them whenever they scowl?

Y/N Y/L/N is the queen B of the club Grayson is certain exists as some secret college society of women that learn how to make men's lives miserable.

Sure, she's on good terms with everyone else, but Grayson always found her to be rude and mean-spirited with him. Every time he tried to bridge the distance between them for not only his brother's relationship but his own inner peace, she nearly chewed his head off. 

In time, Grayson learned to avoid her and her mood-swings, but he still found himself getting out of the car on this particular night, finding Amina in front of the restaurant and he could easily recognize Y/N, even from behind. Perhaps he's spent too much time admiring her ass in the past, but she wasn't hard to recognize, besides, who else would be helping Amina fix her hijab?

For a moment there, he just stands there on the curb, watching her as the wind picks up and her hair flies to the side, revealing her face as she steps away from Amina and giggles, the sound carried through the wind and to his unsuspecting ears. He thought her laugh is almost...tolerable...cute even.

Shaking his head vehemently, Grayson felt Ethan's hand on his shoulder and his expecting gaze as well.

„Come on. It might rain soon and I'd rather not worry if Amina will freeze to death when her clothes get wet.“

Sighing, Grayson follows his brother reluctantly, his gaze unwavering and on his enemy. She may be clothed in a beautiful green dress with bare back, but Grayson still remembers she's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

„Hey.“ Ethan smiles sheepishly at his dear Amina, giving her a small wave as she looks down shyly and her cheeks turn a darker shade. Their relationship is pure in Grayson's eyes – they rarely ever touch and when they do it's by accident and yet they seem to be inseparable. In a moment of weakness, he wished for something as simple and pure as they have too.

„Ugh. Grayson fucking Dolan? Seriously Amina?“ Y/N all but growled at her best friend who was forced to look at her instead of Ethan who really captured all her attention moments ago. Frowning, Grayson clears his throat, hoping to speak but Y/N continues.

„I thought I was supposed to be here with you as the third wheel because your dad insisted! Why call...“ She turns to Grayson, gesticulating to his face with slight disgust on her face before she adds: „Him.“

„Excuse me?!“ Grayson exclaims, quite frankly offended by the way she looked at him like he's not worth the dirt off her cheap heels, but she just turns to him with the fakest, fed-up smile she could muster.

„You may be excused.“ Showing him down the road, hoping he'd leave, Y/N looked at the way his face quickly changed from insulted, to angry, to wicked.

„Oh, no. I'm staying. Now that I know you have been blindsided into spending a whole dinner with me, I'd love for a chance to make your meal a little spicy.“ Winking, Grayson opened the door. Waiting for them to enter, Ethan and Amina were fast but Y/N crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the pavement, her eyes narrowed at him with suspicion.

„Waiting for a formal invitations, princess?“ Grayson clicks his tongue as he gestures with a nod for her to get inside, nearly bursting out laughing when she flinches with the thunder echoing in the street.

„You're just waiting for me to walk in order to let the door slam in my face.“ She guesses, looking up at the sky nervously as lightning tears the sky open.

„Maybe, but you'll never know if you don't come in. Or you can test your luck with the thunderstorm.“ Shrugging as if saying he's alright with either or, Grayson raises his eyebrow in challenge and then it crosses his mind – this is the first time since he met her that he has the reigns and it feels really, really good.

Pensive, she looks back up at the sky before shrugging. „I'd rather brave the storm then, quarterback.“

However, as she states her choice, rain starts to drizzle and the lightning illuminates every line of her frustrated face and her pouted lips as she closes her eyes in anticipation of what's to come. Brave...but stupid.

„Come in. I won't slam the door in your face.“ Clearing his throat, he adds. „My mama taught me better, alright?“

„Fine, but if you do, I know who to complain to then. Don't underestimate me, quarterback. I can find her number if I want to!“ Eyes narrower with every step she takes, arms tense as she expects him to go back on his word, she manages to walk into the restaurant without a scratch on her and surprisingly no attempt to even frighten her.

Y/N headed straight for the table next to Ethan and Amina, the only one available with 'reserved' card on it. She sat opposite of Amina so she could pick up on any signal her best friend sends, but also because she had many signals she wanted to send her and a middle finger might be one of them.

Of all the men in the universe, hell, of all the women in the universe, those two chose the quarterback from hell? She never quite understood how he and Ethan could be twins and be so fundamentally different but after the first two years, she just stopped trying to understand it – understand him, at all.

„Alright. What do you want to order?“ Grayson picks up the menu – the only menu on the table and she rolls her eyes at him again. „Might wanna watch the eye-rolls. Don't want your eyes getting stuck like that, do you?“

Glancing at Amina who just mouthed 'Please', Y/N let out a violent huff in utter frustration, even more so when Grayson continued to hog the menu.

„Why are you here? Really? Did they blindside you too?“ Y/N questions, more curious about how calm he seemed when he found her in front of the restaurant than the menu he holds. She can't eat much now when her appetite is for vengeance alone.

„Nope, Ethan played the mom card. I wouldn't be here otherwise, trust me.“ He responds without even looking at her, his eyes still going over the menu and if she didn't know better, she'd think he's confused.

„You have something better to do on a Saturday night? A girl perhaps? Did I cockblock you, quarterback?“ Raising her eyebrows with amusement, she leans in and cocks her head slightly to the left, awaiting for his response.

„Don't flatter yourself. My plans were more important than a girl. I was supposed to run on the treadmill.“

Shaking her head, finding his answer peculiar and she couldn't help herself but question him further. Besides, she had no other form of entertainment but to make steam come out of his ears.

„Running? That's more important? What the hell?“ Flabbergasted, she draws in a shaky breath as she puts a hand on her chest in surprise and Grayson dignifies her with a curious glance.

„Who chooses to spend a Saturday night on a treadmill?“

Putting down the menu, Grayson presses his tongue against his left cheek to reel his usually loud self which was always amplified around her.

„Someone who makes good life choices. Try it sometimes.“ Snarky tone he used made her bite her lower lip, slowly releasing the soft flesh with a little less lipstick than before. Shame – Grayson quite liked the red shade on her lips.

„Oh, quarterback, you're so scandalous. For future reference, if you ever see me running you should run too because I only run for my life...maybe not even then.“ Smacking her lips, she slyly grabbed the menu from his hands and looked it over herself. She noticed Ethan nod at his brother before they exchanged a few words in their weird gibberish language Amina told her about, though she had caught them doing so a few times before too.

„So, you're really into football, huh“, Grayson asks so naively, noticing exactly when she raised her eyes from the menu and up to him with a boy-you-better-run look and he gulps, aware she'd soon say something that would fuck everything up.

„Football? It's literally the last thing on my list of interests...hell, it's not even on the list!“ She exclaims, noticing Grayson's jaw clench and his eyes harden and Ethan facepalmed immediately, all too familiar with what will happen.

„Football is life! What do you mean it's not on the list?“ Shushed by Amina, he presses his lips together but his eyes are wide and wild and Y/N can't help but chuckle.

„It's the dumbest sport there is. All you do is throw hands with men with over-sized pads and helmets. You get concussions for fame? Fuck that.“ Tossing the menu on the center of the table, Y/N leans back in her chair as she notices a vein prominently showing on Grayson's forehead and she can't help but enjoy the view. There is nothing she likes better than a pissed off Grayson. He's got everyone treating him like a deity, but she was never among them. Perhaps it's because he fucked up when they first met, but she tried time and time again to give him the benefit of the doubt and he always proved her opinion of him, while abominable, is very accurate.

„Dumbest sport? Do you know how hard I work to be the very best on that field? The theories and strategies I have to learn? The physical preparations?!“ Whisper shouting, Grayson leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table and his biceps swell up as he moves some of his weight onto his arms and the table under him.

„Oh, wow! You work so hard? A doctor works hard, Grayson. They save lives and they will never earn the money you will earn after college. You're learning how to run zig-zag across the field with a crummy ball in your hands without falling, while doctors, lawyers, teachers, cashiers and many REAL professions are so underfunded and underpaid and you think that's fair?“ Shaking her head, she raises her hands in mock surrender, watching a little bit of Grayson's ego chip away and he shakes his head too, looking away as he keeps his mouth shut.

„Why do you even hate me so much?“ Grayson mumbled sometime during dinner -  a very quiet dinner.

Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she wondered if he really doesn't know. Hell, she always knew why she hates him, but she never knew why he hates her.

„You really don't know?“ She nearly chuckles when he shrugs, oblivious as always.

„Why is that somehow worse than everything you did?“ Talking to herself more than him, she lets out a heavy sigh. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Y/N presses her lips together and Grayson can't help but notice the red lipstick is once again evenly spread across her lips.

She remembered the way they met, the way he treats the girls, the pranks he pulled that left her mortified, or the nickname he started that followed her for a whole semester and most of all, she couldn't forgive him for scaring off a guy she thought she'd be with for a very, very long time.

„You're so smart and sure of yourself, figure it out.“ But then again, she did have an appetite for vengeance and he had no idea how ready she was to satisfy it.

He was clueless until Monday morning, right after practice when he was left last in the locker-rooms after his self-imposed morning practice. He was clueless as he walked out of the shower, confused as to where his towel is. He was clueless when his steam-clad body felt the breeze of the mysteriously open window in the locker-room had made him shiver.

However, when he opened his locker, Grayson was no longer clueless: his clothes – gone, his jersey – gone, his phone, bag and towels gone.

Everything is gone, yet when he looks at the mirror, he finds the cause for the message left in a very familiar shade of red gave him more than just a clue – XOXO next to a clear mark of a particular pair of lips he was admiring on Saturday night.

„Y/N FUCKING Y/L/N!“

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​ @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @dolandolll​ 

PART 2

[jensengirl83]

Regret and Redemption Chapter 7

Dean x reader

Mechanic!AU

Word Count-2264

Warnings-Angst, language, heartbreak

Summary- Reader has left Dean and is trying to move on with her life. Can Dean prove himself and convince her to come back home?

A/N- Thank you to my beta @emoryhemsworth​​​ and all my girls and guy for the encouragement to keep going with this series. I love you all!

Amazing series cover and text dividers courtesy of @talesmaniac89​ 

To say Dean had a bad week was an understatement. Sam had told him that Stacy had filed a lawsuit against him and his business, he still missed his wife, and now he needed to sign his divorce papers. He had been putting off signing them since Sam had been there earlier that week. Signing them meant his marriage was over, that Y/N would no longer be his wife, and he would be alone for good. Alone. That was one of his biggest fears.

Dean always had the tough guy exterior but was actually a very complex man. He never liked to show his emotions, but they were there, and when Dean felt something, he felt it deeply. His Dad had been a hardass man, and Dean had always felt that was how he needed to be. He learned early on to just push down his feelings and be a man, or what people thought a man should be. It wasn’t just his emotions that Dean kept hidden, he also hid what an intelligent man he was. He never felt the need to broadcast it to everyone. He knew what he could do and that was enough.

He also had his fears that he kept to himself. That was one of the reasons he was in the mess he was in now. Dean had never thought highly of himself despite the cocky front he put on. He always thought that he was never good enough. He wasn’t a good enough son, brother, husband, etc. His insecurities fueled his need for the booze and women, seeking gratification any way he could find it. If he could have only curbed his self-loathing and been what Y/N needed and deserved, she would still be there, a fact that made him hate himself more and more every day.

Dean sat on his couch, whiskey in hand, as was his usual routine now. His eyes were drawn to the unsigned papers laying on the coffee table where they had been since he received them. He glared down at them as he clenched his jaw in anger and frustration, thinking on what he should do when his phone broke his train of thought. The face on the screen had made his mind up for him.

“I signed the damn papers Y/N! Your lawyer will have them in the morning!” Dean yelled and hung up the phone. He knew that was the reason why she had called in the first place.

Dean stood and threw his whiskey glass against the wall as he looked around for a pen. If a divorce was what she wanted, then that was what she was going to fucking get. Dean was at the end of his rope and just wanted everything to be over so he could mourn for what he lost in peace. He grabbed the papers from the coffee table and slammed them against the wall, signing his name furiously before throwing them and the pen to the couch. Dean grabbed his jacket and keys before storming out the door. He needed to let his frustration and anger out on someone, and he knew exactly where to go.

Y/N stared at her phone like it had burned her. She called to ask about the papers, but was his reaction really necessary? Her eyes had begun to glisten with unshed tears, her heart aching at the news he had signed the papers. Of course, she wanted him to sign them and get the divorce over with, but it was still painful to think that it was all over now. Her relationship with the man she had loved for so long was now going to be just a memory. Y/N began to pour herself a drink when her phone started to ring. She rushed over to answer and saw it was her editor.

“Hello Steven,” Y/N answered as she went back to pouring her drink.

“Hi Y/N. Are you free for lunch one day this week so we can discuss where you are in your latest novel?” he asked.

“Uh, sure. What day would be good for you?” she asked as she bit down on her bottom lip. She hoped to get a little more time to get caught up with her writing.

“How about tomorrow? I’m in town and could meet you at Harvelle’s,” Steven said, and Y/N could hear something in his voice.

“That’s fine. I can meet you there at one o’clock. Will that be ok?” Y/N asked.

“That’s fine! See you tomorrow Y/N,” he said, hanging up the phone.

Y/N hung her head and groaned. She was so far behind on her writing since all of this happened and she wasn’t looking forward to being bitched at. Everyone at her publishing company knew what had happened thanks to Dean’s stunt at her launch party, but she had been letting it get to her and interfere with her career. She wasn’t on a time limit to finish, but she knew they wouldn’t be happy to know that she had fallen behind.

Y/N made her way back into the kitchen and filled her glass with brandy. She had never been much of a drinker, but she had always appreciated a good strong liquor, especially these last few months. She never imagined this would be her life. If someone had told her two years ago that she and Dean would be in the middle of a divorce, she would’ve laughed at them. She wasn’t laughing now; nothing about her life funny at all. When they got married, she thought she would be a mother by now. Funny how life has a way of flushing your hopes and dreams down the toilet. Y/N threw back her drink, finishing it in one gulp, and decided to go to bed and end this shitty day.

Dean pulled up to the curb and slammed the door to the Impala. He never would’ve done this, but he was too pissed to think about it. He felt the grass give under the weight of his boots as he made his way to his destination. He didn’t come here often, but today he had things to say to the man that helped to make him the way he was. John’s tombstone came into sight and Dean’s legs felt like they were going to buckle beneath him, the weight of the emotion and unsaid words between him and his dead father bearing down on him. Dean collapsed to his knees in front of the stone marker. The words he had always wanted to say began to spill out of him like the tears that were spilling down his cheeks.

“How dare you! How could you do this to me Dad?!” Dean yelled at the tombstone in front of him.

“You always told me to act like a man. No one wants to hear a cry baby. Well, guess what I’ve learned Dad? MEN CAN SHOW EMOTIONS TOO!” he screamed as he furiously wiped the tears from his face.

“I’ve lost the only person who will ever truly love me for who I am because I let you get in my fucking head! I was always your little soldier huh? Always did what dad said, followed orders without question. Look at where that got me!” Dean couldn’t hold anything back as he continued to yell at his dead father.

“Why Dad? Why was I never good enough for you? Mom would love to know some of the things you said to me when I was young, raising me to be a man’s man. Well, that worked out great for you! Your reputation as John Winchester, the great mechanic, husband, and father is still intact while my life and marriage are falling apart!” Dean hung his head and sobbed but continued to speak.

“I can’t blame you for everything, now can I? You didn’t make me fuck those women. I did that on my own, but I can blame you for my low self-esteem and self-worth, and I do! It’s obvious now the only thing I did right that you thought was a good idea was to watch out for Sammy and ask Y/N to marry me,” Dean said as he looked back up to the name engraved on the granite in front of him.

“You’ll never know how much I wish that I would have been the son you wanted, Dad. Maybe you could’ve just been proud of me instead of screwing me up for life! I’ll always love you Dad, but you were a horrible fucking father!” Dean growled as he stood to walk away.

“I will never forgive you for how you made me feel about myself, but I guess I’m partially to blame for that. See you on the other side,” Dean said as he turned his back and walked away.

Dean had been so caught up in his emotions that he hadn’t noticed that someone had walked up during his screaming. Mary had been coming to place new flowers on her husband’s grave when she heard the yelling. Dean’s words had her speechless and she had hidden behind a tree to listen to the rest of what he had to say. She had never known that Dean felt that way about himself and it broke her heart. As she watched her oldest son get in his car and drive away, she knew what she needed to do.

Dean made it back home and took off his jacket when something fell out onto the floor. He looked down to see a piece of paper with something taped to it. He bent down to pick it up and his heart stopped when he realized what it was. Y/N had a charm made for him when they got married to add to the necklace that Sam had given him when they were younger. The charm had gotten lost and he never thought he would see it again. He pulled the perfect replica of the Impala from the paper and opened the letter.

Dean,

I’m not sure when you will see this, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you thought that you would never see this again, but I had it remade for you. I hope you love it! You deserve the world, but I hope this will be enough to show you how much you mean to me! Now that you had the clasp on the necklace fixed, you shouldn’t have to worry about losing it again. I know you love Baby almost as much as you love me, so I wanted her to be close to your heart again where she belongs. I love you, Dean Winchester! Forever and always yours my love.

                                                                                                                   Y/N

Dean held the charm in his hand as the note ripped his heart to shreds. Y/N always dated every note she had written to him, and this one had been dated almost seven months ago. He was so wrapped up in himself and feeding his need for reassurance that he hadn’t even checked his pockets. That was something she always did, left sweet notes in his jacket pockets. If Dean felt like shit about everything before, now it was tenfold. She had replaced something that meant the world to him and he had never even noticed. Dean unclasped his necklace and slid the small silver car where she had once been. Dean made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a big glass of whiskey. He had no intention of even pretending that he was ok.

Y/N woke up the next morning to pour herself her first cup of coffee when her phone vibrated on the counter, getting her attention. She turned to see that she had a text from her uncle. She opened her phone to read it and felt her heart begin to ache with the words on the screen.

Uncle Johnnie: Dean’s brother sent the divorce papers over this morning. They are signed and we have a court date two weeks from now to have it finalized. I pulled some strings and had it pushed up so you can get this over with. I love you, honey.

Y/N felt the tears trying to form in her eyes. This was it,  everything was going to be over in two weeks. It was a bittersweet moment. She was happy that everything would be done so she could move on, but she was sad to see the end of the marriage she thought would last forever. Y/N let herself shed the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She closed her eyes and let the emotions overtake her. She would always grieve for the man and the marriage she had, but now she had to move on and live her own life. Her phone buzzed with another text, and she looked to see what her uncle was saying now. She was shocked to see that it wasn’t her uncle that had texted her this time.

Mary: Y/N, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, and I understand, but Dean is not doing so well, and I hoped we could talk about what exactly happened. He has me very worried and I can’t get him to tell me much of anything. I will always think of you as my daughter, Y/N. I truly hope you will message me back and let me say what I need to tell you.

@flamencodiva​​ @sorenmarie87​​ @foxyjwls007​​ @waywardbeanie​​ @emoryhemsworth​​ @voltage-my2dlove​​ @hardcoresupernatural​​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @lyarr24​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @akshi8278​ @midsummereve1993​ @sutton2001​ @emory91​ @halesandy​ @miss-nerd95​ @ellewritesfix05​ @bxbyizzy​ @winchest09​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @defenderrosetyler​ @hobby27​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @talesmaniac89​ @deanwanddamons​ @atc74​ @superfanficnatural​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @squirrelnotsam​ @tatted-trina6​ @xhannahbananax03​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @nihilismworld​ @winchester-wifey​ @mrsfox79​ @malfoysqueen14​ @moron225​ @deans-baby-momma​ @lovelyrocker​ @fablesrose​ @queenofchaos7​ @maralisa124​ @deangirl93​ @aimee-ginge​ @anathewierdo​ @donnaintx​

[ohokimdumb]

Carlos Oliveira Imagine (Protector) 🛡❤️👑

Request: Can you do a Carlos x reader where the readers ex won’t leave her alone and Carlos has to step in? Btw I love your writing 🥰

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words ♥

Word Count: 1.3k

Gif by: bioshocky

  Grocery shopping was an activity that soothed you to the core. Typically, people hated pushing through the inconsiderate crowd of aggressive shoppers. Shopping late at night was the best time; at that was what you did. Carlos got off work early so he decided to shop with you. After the horrific Raccoon City accident, you had a few broken ribs so movement wasn’t your friend. He wanted to make life easier for you any way he could; it was the least he could do.

           Carlos parked the car at the front of the grocery store. His consideration toward your injuries warmed your heart. He gave you a gentle smile.

           “I’ll get your door.” Carlos had always been a gentleman; a courteous man who knew how to flirt. He opened the door and helped you out of his jet-black Jeep. Instantly, you noticed all the men and women staring at him. You were invisible to all the people who stared and admired his blessed appearance. It didn’t matter, all Carlos saw was you. His arm casually snaked around your waist as he smoothly indicated you were his, and he was yours.

           Your list was excruciatingly long after not shopping for a little over a week due to your injuries. Carlos had no time to shop since his new position at the city’s police department had kept him busy. There were more people shopping than usual. Since when did people believe 10:00PM was the ideal shopping hour? Carlos grabbed a kart and you set your expensive Gucci purse in the seat section of the shopping-kart. It was a birthday present from Carlos; you had begged him for one for the past year prior to your birthday.

           “What’s first on the list?” Carlos asked as he looked down at you. His eyes squinted as he tried to read your handwriting. You noticed and smiled at his humorous struggle.

           “Admit it, you need glasses.” You called him out and Carlos huffed.

           “No, I don’t! I see perfectly fine.” Carlos argued as he playfully snatched your list from your hands.

           “When it comes to your sight, you act like an old man denying he needs a hearing-aid.” You nudged him with glee and he laughed. You weren’t known for your jokes, but Carlos laughed at them all. You snatched the list back.

           “First on the list is chicken.” You informed Carlos and he nodded.

           “It’s across the store. Do you think you’ll be fine on your own for a minute or two?” Carlos lovingly stroked your back.

           “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get everything I need from produce.” Carlos nodded and walked through the crowd of people. Eventually, he disappeared out of your sight. As you made your way to produce, you noticed someone familiar. Your eyebrows furrowed together out of curiosity. It felt like you were punched in the gut after your speculation was confirmed, when the man turned in your direction. What were the odds you moved to the same town as your ex-boyfriend; an abusive and narcissistic ex-boyfriend. It felt like you were suffocating, being strangled by his sadistic grasp once more. You quickly walked to the next isle over where the produce was. As you kept your head down you examined the lemons and grapefruit. A sickeningly familiar scent of cologne filled your nostrils, and a terrifying voice echoed in your eardrums

           “Y/n?” Trevor called out your name. You looked to your right and he was next to you; too close for comfort. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of fear. The day you decided to leave Trevor, you didn’t say a word to him. You just…disappeared. He had a smile on his face, but you read him like a book. Behind his imitation of a soft, caring expression was anger; a man who desired revenge. You wanted to scream for Carlos, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. It wasn’t because you were embarrassed to ruin a bystander’s day, but you were scared to. All the trauma he caused flushed back into your body like a hurricane; you couldn’t breathe.

           Two steps backwards and his hand was tightly wrapped around your wrist. You casually tried to pull away, once again trying not to cause a scene.

           “Don’t do this. It’s not worth it.” You tried to reason with Trevor, but a nasty grin formed on his face. He was still his usual, disgusting self. You never understood how people could be so evil and hate the world so much. Why did others wish to cause innocent people pain?

           “Oh, it’s not? You left me. You didn’t even have the decency to tell me you were leaving.” Trevor’s grip overbearingly tightened around your delicate wrist; you could feel the pressure against your bone.

           From behind, you hear a familiar deep voice that brought you relief.

           “What the hell is going on here?” Carlos said in an extremely hostile tone. The expression plastered on his face was even more terrifying. Trevor was too oblivious to see Carlos’ posture as a warning. Trevor let go of your wrist and you stumbled over to Carlos. Tears filled your eyes as you hid behind him. Your body felt weak from the lack of oxygen intake.

           “This is none of your concern.” Trevor took a step closer towards Carlos; the biggest mistake he ever made. Carlos scowled at Trevor’s filthy audacity to put a hand on you. Carlos’ thoughts went wild; violent. He wanted nothing more than to break every bone in his body. Aggression heated his bloodstream as aggressive memories flashed through his mind like a screenplay.

           “It is my concern. You put your hand on my lady.” Carlos growled. You tugged at his shirt in hopes he would walk away, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, Carlos stepped forward until his face was directly in front of Trevor’s. Trevor didn’t break his stance until Carlos decided to make a move. It was something you didn’t expect from Carlos; especially in public.

           Carlos threw a quick punch that forced Trevor to the ground. People gasped as they crowded around the three of you. An expression of shock covered your face as you watched Trevor crash to the ground; blood ran down from one of his nostrils. You weren’t sure what caused Carlos to act outrageous. It was awful that Trevor grabbed you in such an aggressive manner, but Carlos could have at least tried to talk some sense into him. Carlos didn’t typically confide in immediate violence; it wasn’t who he was. There had to be a deeper meaning.

           “Get the fuck out of here, or stitches won’t fix what I’ll do to you.” Carlos threatened Trevor, and he sprinted out of the store. Little droplets of blood created a trail as he exited the grocery store. You looked up at Carlos and his anger had quickly faded; his happy, innocent smile returned. Everyone around you two seemed to get over the situation as well.

           “Why did you punch him?” You asked, sounding a bit disappointed in him. Carlos frowned at your disapproval.

           “My dad wasn’t the best to my Ma. He would beat her if she didn’t make dinner by seven o’clock.” Carlos hesitantly shared in a quiet whisper. Your disappointment faded as he shockingly opened up to you. You felt it wasn’t right to ask more questions out in public. It was surprising you hadn’t been kicked off the premises.

           “We should bust a move; we have fifteen more items on your list.” Carlos smiled and tossed the packed chicken in the kart. You laughed and playfully punched his lean arm.

                       He was your protector, your man at arms.

[tloujm]

Part XX: Champ de Pâquerette

Author’s Notes: This takes place a day after the previous chapter. This part is dialogue heavy and at 3,365 words. Because there is discussion on Joel’s background, it strays from canon. Is it considered “straying from canon” when certain details were never presented officially in the first place?

Genre: Can I get a McFluffy?

Summary: Just another day during the honeymoon. The two of you flirt and talk more about each other’s background. 

Ship: Joel x Fem!Reader

You woke up the next morning to the sound of hammering. You tossed sluggishly around the bed with the expectation of bumping into Joel. Instead, you’re met with an empty bed. As you pushed away the last bits of sleep, it made sense that he was responsible for the sound that woke you up. You walked up to the window with no more than your hair to cover your breasts. You opened it to let in the fresh morning air. You looked out into the backyard and found your husband off to the right fixing the fence blown down by the storm. It was a beautiful view. The backyard was basically a meadow full of wild flowers, mostly daisies. There were less trees in the back than in the front, however, so it was blanketed by rays of sunlight. You smiled as you watched on and you contemplated greeting him. You imagined his reaction; him turning around at the sound of your voice, a smile breaking across that hard exterior at the sight of your disheveled nudity. 

You decided against it in favor of surprising him. He’s surprised you enough these past couple of days; you figured he deserved a little something. You took a quick bath and went down to the kitchen. The refrigerator was one of the things he stocked before he brought you to the place. It wasn’t running, as the cottage did not have electricity, so half of the space inside was full of ice. Just that detail alone, Joel lugging ice from Jackson to this little house so the two of you could eat something other than canned food on your honeymoon warmed your heart. You didn’t know if he had eaten breakfast yet, but knowing him he probably didn’t, so you decided to make some food and bring it to him. Wanting to enjoy the day and eat outside as well, you put together a little picnic. You packed up one of the empty suitcases that he used to bring things over with plates, cups, cutlery and the food that you packaged up so neatly. 

Joel grunted in frustration after the nail he hammered split a piece of wood. He used the back hook of the hammer to take it out and he placed it between his lips. With the hammer still in his hand, he flipped the wood over and positioned it against the other part of the fence. A drop of sweat fell down the side of his face. He only wiped it off with the collar of his shirt after he successfully got the nail through. He took the baseball cap off that he was wearing to fan himself.

“Working hard, cowboy?” You asked as you walked through the back door.

He squinted his eyes to block the light. “Just fixin’ your fence ma’am. Your husband insisted I get’er done ASAP so the place could look nice when you got up.” He raked his fingers through his short hair and placed the cap back on. 

“Oh did he? Well why don’t you take a break from all this hard work and have brunch with me while my husband is gone. I made enough food for two and I hate eating by myself.” You stopped in front of him and the fence; He was still on his knees. You handed him a glass of iced tea that you brewed. 

Joel stood up and took a sip. “You sure your husband wouldn’t mind, ma’am?”

“Let me ask him.” You replied coyly. He let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you turn away from him then turn back around. “Joel, I’m sorry it’s come to this but I’m leaving you and running away with the handyman, but first I’m having brunch with him and there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”

“Ouch.” Joel playfully grabbed at his chest. “You’re a natural heartbreaker ain’t ya?”

You shrugged playfully. “You started it. I just went with it.”

“Well that’s not where I was going.” Joel responded with a chuckle. “ ‘Sides, it’s never too early to start role playing.” He reached up and gave you a sloppy kiss. 

“Meet me ‘round front. We’re having a picnic.” You said with a smile. 

“A picnic?” He repeated.

“Yeah! Just wait. I’ll bring everything out.” You ran back towards the door.

“You need help with anything, (Y/N)?” Joel shouted.

“Nope, just relax in the shade.”

Joel watched as you struggled to bring everything out in one trip. He got up and rushed over to you, but you insisted that he sit back down. He couldn’t just sit and do nothing, so he compromised and stayed on stand by just in case you dropped something. He watched as you laid a blanket down and opened the suitcase full of picnic things. The first thing you took out was the iced tea that you made in what used to be a bulk pickle jar. You refilled his glass before unpacking everything else. 

The two of you ate in relative silence. “What are you thinking about?” You asked him. 

Joel let out a satisfying sigh after another sip. “You.”

“Oh? What about me has you so enthralled.”

“Everything, but I will admit I’ve had a question on my mind since you came out with the drink in your hand.”

“And what’s that?” You asked innocently.

He sat the cup down and leaned in. “When you broke my heart back there with such ease,” He offered a half smile. “I was wondering if maybe it was because you had a little practice back in the day.”

“Is that your silly way of asking me about all the men I had before you?” You winked. 

“You don’t have to share with me anything you don’t want to, but I do feel like you know more about my life than I do yours.”

“Do I? How many women have you been with between me and Sarah’s mother?”

He made a face as to say ‘touche’. “No more than I can count on my left hand.” He exhaled. “The first woman I’d been with after Sarah’s mom was a blind date. Tommy convinced me that I needed to get back out there. At this point Sarah was in kindergarten---”

“Kindergarten? How young was she when she left?” You asked. 

“Her mom left us without any warning, only a note saying that she dropped her off with Tommy and my dad. She couldn’t have been any older than 2 years old.”

“So, she didn’t grow up with any memories of her mom?” You asked. 

He shook his head. “No, and I was fine with that. It was just me and Tommy in her life.” He cleared his throat. “So, yeah, he called himself helping me out by setting me up on a blind date after I refused to try online dating. She was pretty, I’ll admit that, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that me and her weren’t goin’ anywhere past the first date.” He glanced up at you for a moment. He noticed how you were eating his words up before looking back down at his plate. “Despite that, we went back to her place at the end of the date and we slept together.” He sighed disappointedly at himself. “I don’t know why I agreed to go over. It’d been a while since I had any...fun I guess. Taking care of a baby by yourself is lonely.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” You spoke up. He shook his head.

“After her, I told my brother no more blind dates. On nights that my aunts or cousins would spend with Sarah, I would go on down to the bar. I’d usually just flirt with the women there, buy them drinks if it was going somewhere. One night though, a woman took me into the bathroom and we had sex in a stall. It wasn’t,” He shrugged. “Nothin’ special. It felt good in the moment, but as soon as it was over and we went our separate ways, there was this feeling of...I don’t know how to describe it.” He took another swig. “You know, I used to work in construction. The guys I worked with, most of ‘em weren’t fathers. The ones who were, were much other than me. I lost most of my school friends after I got married. It was hard for me to make more because all of my time was either at work or at home with the baby. The guys at the site were cool but I was never gonna meet up with them after work for a beer. I had to pick Sarah up from daycare. Imagine how hard it was to meet someone to be more than friends with. My loneliness made me crave those few minutes I had in the bathroom stall again, so the next time I had a free night, I went back to the bar. I was more confident because I knew what I wanted. I ended up having sex with another woman in her car in the bar’s parking lot. Sarah ended up catching pneumonia sometime soon after that. Scared and watching over her in the hospital caused me to realign my priorities. I felt guilty for not being there for her. I was away drinking and fucking to make myself feel better. As tough as it was raising a little kid, Sarah was the only thing that truly made me feel joy. So that was the last time until…”

“You’re telling me, no woman has come on to you? A tall, fine, good with his hands, rough-around-the-edges-but-really-a-big-softie like yourself?” You giggled, he smirked.

“Every once in a while a lady has slipped me her number, but nothing ever came of any of them?” He smirked at the confession.

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Mostly ‘cause I convinced myself not to. I would tell myself that giving it a chance was not worth it. I’d only been with one woman after the pandemic. Her name was Tess.” With that sentence alone, you already knew that she meant the most out of all of them based off the fact that he remembered her name. “We met at a quarantine zone years after I left the fireflies. I was by myself after Tommy decided to stay with ‘em. I found myself smuggling things in and out of the zone to earn extra ration cards. That’s how our paths crossed. She was a smuggler too. She was one of my contacts. After a while of building up trust, we decided to team up and work together for bigger payoffs. I suppose it was only a matter of time that we’d get together. We had this silent pact that she wouldn’t ask about my past and I wouldn’t ask about hers. It wasn’t a relationship though, I don’t think, not in the traditional sense. We never talked about what it was before she died.”

“How did---” You began to ask.

“She got bit. She didn’t tell me until we were surrounded by some really bad people. She convinced me to leave her behind when she showed me the bite on her ankle. She said that I still had a chance to get away, that she was gonna hold the other guys off while I ran. I almost died that day, but I kept getting back up because I didn’t want her death to be in vain. After a while of hiding, I snuck into another quarantine zone and began smuggling there. I’d only done one job  before my contact told me that my next job was to smuggle a person. I immediately rejected the offer until I heard it was for the Fireflies. I wanted nothing more to do with them after I left their settlement in Texas, but I couldn't help but think about my brother. That combined with the payoff is why I decided to escort you across the whole damn country to their base in Utah.”

It was silent for a moment before you began to share yourself. “My first time was when I spent a few weeks in Britain. It was my high school graduation gift to myself. I wanted to do something fun and adventurous over the summer before starting college. I had never been anywhere before so I saved up for the plane tickets, booked the accommodations; I did everything myself and I was so excited. I stayed at this hostel in Brighton, a seaside city south of London. A Spanish man named David was staying there as well. We’d become friends off the bat and everyday we’d flirt and spend time together.”

“What did he look like?”

“Why? You jealous?” You teased. “He was a little older than me. I was 18, I think he said he was 25. So I guess I got a type.” You playfully wiggled your eyebrows at Joel. “He was tall and very slender and had long, dark, curly hair. So the night before I checked out, I told him I was leaving. He kissed me for the first time and you know what my response was? I asked him if he wanted to fuck! I wanted to be bold and I did have a crush on him. That’s not how I imagined my first time being. I’d only known him for a week. I mean we got along very well, but I always imagined it being with someone I was in a relationship with first.”

“You’d never dated in high school?” He asked.

“No, I had dates to school dances, but never dated. So I went back up to his hostel room. He rented a private room while the room I stayed in had bunk beds, so I was sharing it with others. I told him I was a virgin before anything happened and he was ok with that. He was gentle and kind and everything I needed that night to trust him. I didn’t expect much for my first time, like I didn’t think there were going to be fireworks. I didn’t ask how experienced he was, but I assumed he wasn’t a virgin. The experience as a whole was good. The guy that I was crushing on my whole stay in Brighton respected my mind and my body. That was more than enough to make me swoon. Still I had to leave in the morning. He invited me to stay the night with him and so I did. I had to leave early, just before dawn, so I planned on slipping out and leaving a note, but he caught me before I left and we hugged and said goodbye and he whispered something in my ear in his native tongue. I didn’t know what he said and to this day, I can’t remember the words, so I guess I never will. I’m glad he woke up though. I’m glad he did that.” Joel didn’t know if you had more stories, but he could tell already that this was the one that stuck with you the most. You took in a deep breath before continuing. “So, spring semester of my freshman year I got into my first relationship. He came up to me in the library. I was just watching videos on my laptop, killing time between classes. What’s funny was that I didn’t want to be bothered that day, and there this man was coming up to me saying that he saw me as I walked into the study quad and thought I was pretty. So I close my laptop and sit with him at his table. We ended up talking until I had to leave for class. He asked for my number before I left and the rest was history with that one.” You shrugged.

“That’s it? What happened there?” Joel asked curiously.

“We grew apart.” You shrugged again, thinking back on it. “He was more into me than I was him and after a while, I didn’t see myself getting serious like I knew he wanted and don’t you dare call me a heartbreaker for that.” A tight lined grin broke onto your face. “I didn’t want to dump him, but stringing him along would have been worse. I know what it’s like to be convinced someone’s into you when they’re really not. He was sad, but I’m sure he got over it. I told him we could be friends, but that never happened. I got into another relationship my junior year of college with a classmate from my photography class. I’d known him since my very first semester. We were in the same financial aid program, which meant we had to take a lot of the same gen ed classes. We were always just acquaintances until he asked me out before class one day. I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t find him physically attractive at first, but after we went on several dates and I got to know him, he was all I could think about. I was infatuated and we fucked everywhere.” You blushed. “We fucked in the dark room more than once, in my car, his car. We got caught by the campus police when it was in his car. We did it in the library stairwell, under a small bridge at a park across the street from campus. Things ended when we graduated. He was from out of state, so he was gonna move back home and look for jobs there. I wanted to travel more before committing to a job. I really tried to convince him to travel with me, at least for the summer, and he really tried to convince me to go move with him to his hometown. Neither one of us compromised so that was that.”

“Did you love him?” He inquired.

“I don’t think so. If we loved each other, I feel like we would have tried harder to find a solution. In the very least try a long distance relationship. We were infatuated, horny young adults. I loved my time with him and I definitely cared for him, like I did for my first boyfriend, but I don’t think I ever loved them. Did you love Sarah’s mom?”

“Tyra?” There it was. Now you knew her name. He looked down as he wrung his hands. “I thought I could, but she never gave me a chance to. We liked each other and I grew to care for her and I think she cared for me back. I grew to respect her a hell of a lot more after I watched her give birth, but she didn’t make the idea of loving her easy. Towards the end, we argued a lot and then not at all. There was just nothing until she left.” You took his hands in yours. He accepted your comfort, but did not want to dwell on it. “So where did you end up going?”

“Hmm?” You hummed in question.

“After you broke up with the second guy because you wanted to travel.”

“I had brought a plane ticket to Italy. Trieste, Italy. That country is like an art student’s mecca so I had to go sooner or later. But it never happened. About a week before I was scheduled to go, the pandemic hit and the borders closed. I only chose that date because the layover time was shorter. It cost me though. Just think If I had purchased an earlier plane ticket, because I almost did since it was cheaper. What if I would have gotten stuck in a foreign country when all this went down. Wouldn’t know anybody, wouldn’t know if my family was ok, wouldn’t know how to get back home.”

“We wouldn’t have met.” Joel commented.

“No, I don’t think we would have.”

“Well, I’m glad you bought the more expensive ticket. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Italy though.”

“I’m sorry too!” You laughed. “I can’t imagine that being the worst country to be stuck in. But I would trade Italy for you any day.”

The two of you laid on the blanket and enjoyed each other’s company until Joel decided it was time to get back to the fence. You asked him if he needed help, but he declined. You settled for sunbathing while you watched him work. After a while, he called it quits for the day and he got cleaned up while you made dinner. 

[imaginesfora3]

It’s About the DRAMA [Sumeragi Tenma] [Pt. 2]

(Second NSFW part to the Tenma commission I did! Please enjoy~)

Even after two entire years Tenma found his heart still beat for you.

When he was around you he could hardly think straight but he was so addicted to the feelings you gave him, the true happiness he felt at seeing you smile or hearing you laugh, he couldn’t pull away. He’s plagued at night by thoughts of you, of thoughts of what could be if he could strike up the courage to ask you on a real date and not just to ‘hang out’. He always went in with the intentions of revealing his feelings, like when he’d invited you out to karaoke that one night and sang a love song that felt reminiscent of this particular situation with you, but everyone and their mother seemed to get in the way. The meaning of the song completely flew over your head and you’d complimented his singing voice, teasing about the next production being a musical starring him.

A few days after the karaoke catastrophe he’d been trying to think of a good way to confess his feelings but could think of nothing that didn’t make him feel pathetic, knowing feeling like this was natural but still hating how soft it made him look. Did women even like men who got this emotional and romantic when it came to him? His naturally abrasive self had been far too used to people fawning over him no matter how he acted but if it was his fame they fell for and not him or his actions, then it wasn’t real love, was it? Just infatuation. It’s the reason why he’d kept his distance in the dating world for so long despite all the interest in him as young handsome actor.

Or at least one of the reasons.

While he was stuck in his thoughts about his sad dating life Banri had entered the kitchen, starting a welcome conversation about clothing styles that served as a distraction for about two minutes. Said distraction quickly fizzled out when you entered the room looking more stunning than Tenma thinks he’d ever seen you, the dress you’re wearing hugging every curve of your body and leaving only the best bits to his imagination. Banri was quietly appreciating you too but was far less obvious about it than Tenma, glancing over at his friend and smirking as Tenma’s eyes drifted down to your ass the moment you’d turned around.

“Keep it together, man.” Banri elbowed him which caused Tenma’s head to snap back up, just in time for you to turn around and face them. “Where are you going lookin’ like that?”

“Out with friends. That okay, dad?” You stuck your tongue out at Banri who fired off some comment about how it was hard to believe you had a life outside the company but Tenma wasn’t listening, not really. Now his thoughts were just plagued with the thoughts of wining and dining you, but the actions that took place after said wining and dining had finished for the night. It’s taking all the will power he had to keep his jaw from hitting the ground when you swung around once more, grabbing a jacket before waving to the two men in the kitchen and being on your way. He wanted desperately to call out your name, to bring you back so he could soak in your beauty for just another second, but you were gone before he’d found his voice again.

“The hell was that about?” Banri was looking at him incredulously, “You stared so hard your eyes could’ve fallen out of your head. You got it that bad for her?”

“…Huh?” Tenma wasn’t listening again, now he was desperately fighting a losing battle against his dick. “Yeah, whatever.”

Banri doesn’t say anything else but it’s clear he’d picked up on all the signals Tenma had been sending your way, not really knowing how to help his friend out if he couldn’t even admit the feelings were there. He simply stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, leaving Tenma standing at the counter for a few more minutes, not even realizing he’s alone. When Tenma finally noticed Banri was gone he didn’t feel so self-conscious about the bulge in his pants, making a mad dash for his room and hoping he didn’t run into any other troupe member on the way there. It was the weekend so most were either holed up in their room getting much needed rest or out and about having fun until it was time to be back to business.

Tenma had never been more grateful that Yuki was a shopaholic as he clambered into his bed, leaving the room empty so that Tenma could handle his business. He hardly found the energy to masturbate but when he did he knew how to be quick about it, something very necessary for living in this dorm with a roommate who was almost always there.

Tenma glanced nervously at the door, worried about someone busting it down though there’d be no reason to do so; he could’ve locked it if he really wanted to but he didn’t feel like answering Yuki’s questions should the younger boy come home and not be able to get into his own room. Tenma’s hands slid down his pants and he rubbed his dick through his underwear, unzipping his jeans to give himself more room to work with and turning away from the door, just in case the whole ‘busting in’ scenario happened. It’s not comfortable enough so he decided on laying on his back, pants fully pulled down as his hand strokes up and down his length. He’s thinking about you, your ass, your mouth, your voice, everything that had to do with you was so incredibly attractive that he knew he’d come sooner rather than later as long as he kept up the pace. Your name slipped from his mouth, an accident, one that he didn’t think would cost him as dearly as it did.

“Tenma…?” The door creaked open but he didn’t process it quick enough, continuing to pump his length, finger stroking over the sensitive head when he realized your voice was no longer just in his head. His head whipped towards the door and he meets your eyes, his heart dropping down to the underworld as he realized you were staring at- “Fuck! I’m sorry!”

You hadn’t realized Yuki wasn’t in. Part of your jacket was ripped and you had simply wanted to come see if he could fix it up for you, having a replacement if need be, but instead you’d walked in on… An oddly attractive and incredibly embarrassing scene. You felt guilt seep into your bones at the horrified expression on Tenma’s face, watching as he rolled onto his side to fix himself quickly while trying to sputter out excuses that just wouldn’t form into full sentences; you couldn’t really blame him, this was probably in his top ten most mortifying moments now. You should’ve knocked, you know you should’ve, but now you knew that the carpet matched the drapes and that his dick was rather sizeable and-

You shouldn’t be thinking these things about him.

But hadn’t he been calling out your name?

Had he been thinking those things about you?

It wasn’t as though there were signs that Tenma might feel some type of way towards you. You’d seen him gaping at you in the kitchen and felt rather proud at his reaction, even turning around again to give him a view of all that you had; you hadn’t even realized you were showing off for him until you’d walked outside and the cool night air brought you back to reality. You weren’t in some sleazy romance novel, Tenma deserved romance and flirting and the whole shebang, not just sexual tension. Azuma had been the first one to bluntly point out that Tenma was clearly in love with you, head over heels, no doubt about it, and since Azuma seemed to be the expert in these you had truly wanted to believe him. You didn’t at first but the longer this tension between you and Tenma continued to grow… After this incident, after definitely hearing your name come from his mouth as he was certainly masturbating… Maybe you had to stop ignoring it.

Maybe you just had to deal with the fact Tenma loved you.

But how?

You don’t find an answer for another year.

Tenma’s career was in full swing meaning you rarely saw him around anymore, something that both broke your heart and brought some type of relief. As much as you wanted to confront him on his feelings you still hardly understood your own, nervous about the concept of dating someone younger than you, worried that you hadn’t interpreted the signs correctly. You had no doubt Tenma would be a good boyfriend but would you be good enough for him? It wasn’t to say you weren’t a good, loving person but would you be enough for Tenma? Popular, famous Tenma who practically had women throwing themselves at him left and right, who worked with gorgeous movie stars and was messaged by famous models daily?

He’d been gone about six months at this point but Summer Troupe’s annual play was coming around and he was ready to come home, to see his friends and live in the dorm once again. He’d contacted you and asked for you to pick him up, almost not bothering to send the text as he was still embarrassed by the entire masturbation situation. He didn’t think the moment would weigh so heavily on him but unless he was completely delusional, he was certain you’d stared at his dick until he’d turned around, not even bothering to look away (the same exact thing he’d done to your ass about ten minutes before). Did it mean something or was it just the shock? There was no easy way to get an answer and he hated that the most about this, about all of this romance crap.

The wind is knocked out of you when you see Tenma in the airport, walking towards you and Sakuya (one of the only free members who happily wanted to accompany you to get his fellow troupe leader) with his sunglasses and hat pulled down over his face. He somehow managed to keep growing even over such a short period of time, looking taller, more mature, more put-together… You realized you’re staring at him too long after he’s greeted you without saying anything in return and you forced a smile to your face.

“H-Hey there, hope that time with all the big wigs can help our play shine!”

“You know I always do my best.” His response was awkward but so was your previous statement so you can’t blame him. The walk back to the car is thankfully silent as it’s clear Tenma is quite exhausted and you wondered if he’d just fall asleep on the ride back, leaving even less room for you to make a fool of yourself.

“You really do seem more mature, Tenma,” You offered up another observation as he packed his bags into the back of the car. As much as you didn’t want to make yourself look stupid you had missed him dearly, those weekly phone calls not being enough to satisfy you. You used to talk to him every day, at least getting to see his face even if he was busy, but being overseas and filming left him too busy to keep that same routine. You understood why and you didn’t blame him but now that he was finally in front of you, you couldn’t just pass up the opportunity to talk or tease him like you used to.

“Ah, thanks…” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, looking away from you, “You… don’t feel like you’ve changed at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“I-It’s not a bad thing.”

‘It’s like coming home,’ Tenma thought with a smile, ‘I am coming home, I guess…’

“You guys must’ve really missed each other, huh?” Sakuya laughed from the back seat as you and Tenma entered the car. “We all missed you but not as much as she did! Whenever we were having trouble figuring out a scene, she’d always say ‘I wish Tenma was here’ or something like that!”

Sakuya, as innocent as he was, was absolutely killing you right now.

“Do you have any stories about being on set? Ooh, what about the places you visited while you were away?” Sakuya interrupted the growing tension, leaning forward into the front seat and looking at Tenma curiously. He might’ve just put you out there but he’d saved you just as quick, successfully distracting Tenma who seemed more than happy to tell Sakuya of all the things he experienced while he was away. You listened in while you drove, enjoying both the sound of his voice and the content of his stories, pleased even more to hear that none of his time was spent with other women.

The dorm was buzzing with energy when Tenma finally arrived.

“Summon the troops up front Muku, a celebrity has finally arrived!”

Tenma smiled weakly at  your attempt at humor but there was still come clear tension left over, something he was quick to blame on jet lag. Why did seeing you again in person leave him breathless? Why did his heart ache even though you were right there in front of him, arm’s length away? The distance had done nothing to placate his feelings, perhaps making it even worse, and he finds himself selfishly wishing he could just have you all to himself for a night.

He’d missed everyone at Mankai without a doubt but you were a special case.

Tenma is bombarded with questions, he’s given gifts and poems and all sorts of things that the others had made for him while he was gone or to welcome him home. He’d never felt more loved in his life and as he accepted these gifts, cheeks red from embarrassment while he also made sure to thank each person who gave an offering, he noticed your were absent from the general hubbub. While Kazunari is rambling on about something or other Tenma scanned the area, eyes landing on the kitchen once he noticed it was where you were. You were casually talking with Omi, something that wasn’t exactly unusual, but today he was just off. Seeing you with Omi made him feel this bitter jealousy towards him, this irritation welling up until it clearly showed on his face.

“You okay?” Kazunari asked, head tilted in confusion.

“He’s probably tired from the trip,” Azuma offered up helpfully, and despite Tenma generally being on edge whenever the silver-haired man was around him, he felt relieved that he didn’t have to come up with an excuse himself. “Why don’t you head to your room to unpack and relax until dinner? One of us will fetch you when everything’s done I’m sure.”

Was being alone with his thoughts really what he needed right now?

Tenma discovered that it was in fact not what he needed or what he wanted, unable to get the image of Omi’s hand on your arm out of his head; it was as if he was being mocked, as if the universe was telling him ‘you missed your chance, buddy’. He wondered how close the two of you had gotten, wondered if you shared any longing looks or if you’d spent a night together and the relationship took off from there, all the things that he wanted to do with you but never got to because his damn pride always got in his way. The feelings of jealousy started to bubble over until he felt genuinely angry over something he knew he had no right to be upset about, pacing in his room, wanting dinner to just be over with so he could come back and brood some more.

Tenma knew something had to be done about his feelings for you.

Being himself wasn’t working, he kept overthinking his words, stumbling over them, not wanting to look as pathetic as he felt. So what if he pretended to be someone else? When he was in character he didn’t get overwhelmed by feelings, when he was in character he kept it together no matter how beautiful the actress acting opposite to him was, so maybe the solution had been dangling in front of his face this entire time. He doesn’t know when he’ll have the chance to enact this plan but the seed had been planted in his brain and he couldn’t get it out of his head. He had to confess to you even if it killed him, even if you rejected him and never looked at him in the same light again.

He had to let you know how he felt.

Practice began the next day and despite being told he could be a bit late, he insisted on being right on time. He had gotten plenty of rest and he was ready to get back to business, with acting being the one thing that always managed to distract him from his feelings. Being with the others again gave him his energy back and he started off the day ready to conquer, flipping through the script Tsuzuru had just barely managed to get into their hands before passing out on the ground. There were plenty of interesting themes, some redemption, two twin flames reuniting, the dialogue really speaking to Tenma’s spark for both drama and comedy. He’s assigned the lead role even as he protested it should go to someone like Misumi or Kazunari who fit the lead character far more but the group was just as stubborn as he was and with a sigh, he accepted that things were getting right back to business as usual.

Tenma was totally in his element, he was more than competent enough to take on the lead role in a stage play, so then why was he constantly obliterating his lines? He stuttered in the first read through, he forget to respond a few times (he was too busy looking at you as you read over the script, looking extra cute as you concentrated), he was thinking about his own confession monologue he’d started to plot out, he was just entirely distracted. And he couldn’t just push it down like he normally did, it kept rising to the top of his thoughts and it was truly beginning to screw him over. He can see the others are getting agitated but are unwilling to call him out, likely just blaming it on him not being used to being around them again, but it was so much more than that. With a frustrated wave of his hand Tenma dismissed himself from the practice.

“W-Where are you going?”

“I’m going to practice alone. I’ll… be back.” Tenma left the room in a hurry but just as he predicted you followed, reaching out to grab his arm and stop him from storming away so quickly. It made his heart jump in his chest, made him shiver at how warm your hand felt against his arm and he had to use all the self-control he had left not to pin you to the wall so he could crush his lips against yours.

“What’s wrong, Tenma? You can’t close yourself off like this. You know you need to talk it out!”

“I was supposed to come back with more experience to make this play a success and now all I can do it… Well, nothing! It feels like I’m back at square one again,” Tenma couldn’t help but be at least partially honest with his feelings, making sure to leave out the fact you were driving him absolutely crazy by just being this close to him. The kind, concerned look on your face squeezed his heart like a vice and when you squeezed his arm reassuringly he thought he might die then and there.

“I can see you need a reminder of the fact that I’m here for you and so is the rest of your troupe! You’ve grown up so much but you can’t just keep bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders without letting us in on how you’re feeling. If you know what’s wrong and it’s a problem you can solve then let us know! And even if we can’t solve it just tell us what it is! It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“You have no idea,” Tenma sighed, trying to subtly move his arm out of your grip. “…Can we go down to the theatre?”

“You missed it that much?” You tried to joke but Tenma was looking a little too serious for you to not feel nervous, simply nodding his head and beginning to walk without your confirmation. You’re worried about what might come next but you’d rather snuff the problem out sooner rather than later; you dipped your head back into the practice room to let the others know they could continue to read their lines and that you’d be back with Tenma soon, not noticing the looks they all exchanged.

Tenma is standing center stage when you find him, pacing back and forth, looking just as pensive as he had when you’d left him. He doesn’t even notice you’re there leaving you a moment to admire his handsome face, a handsome face you’d grown fond of and had missed dearly while he was gone. Seeing him at the airport had made you just want to wrap your arms around him and tell him he was never allowed to leave you like that again, that living daily life without him had just made things feel ‘off’, but you knew you could never say something so selfish. It wasn’t as though the two of you were even dating so what right did you have to even think those things about him? Ever since you’d walked in on him masturbating you’d seen him in an entirely different life, recognizing him not just as a troupe member but as a man, too.

The change left you uncomfortable, with feelings you didn’t know how to handle.

“No one else has ever encouraged me and believed in me like you have,” Tenma began to speak as you walked closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away from him. “My parents want me to go back to daytime drama full time.”

“You know how I feel about your father so let’s not get into that…” Tenma smiled at the memory, never forgetting what it was like to have you so focused on him and doting over his wounds; it was the first time he ever realized he was in love with you, his strong romantic feelings for you truly coming to a head as you expressed your compassion. He was beginning to realize even more how he felt, that it wasn’t simply admiration but true love that he felt for you. You were someone he would be perfectly comfortable calling his soulmate, someone he could easily spend the rest of his life with and never regret it not matter how tough things got. If he was going to put it all on the table and finally address the elephant in the room, now was the time to do it, now when he was feeling so reassured that he’d be able to get his feelings across to you.

You joined him on stage, looking out at the empty seats before glancing over at him again as he began to talk.

“Can I act this thing out for you that I’ve been thinking about for a while?”

“Sure. Are you gonna be our new scriptwriter, too?” You teased.

“Not a chance. Just… give me a sec.” Tenma took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, his nervous energy infecting you as well.

“Y-You remember I’m not really a great actress, right? You didn’t forget that while you were gone?”

“I didn’t forget anything about you. I didn’t ask you to act so just… listen, alright?”

Another deep breath and you saw a switch flip in him, his face and shoulders growing more relaxed as he looked at you.

“The day that we met we fought like cats and dogs. I never thought the two of us would ever get along, never thought that I could ever see the positives or care about a person who only seemed to kick me when I was down. But I realized it was all about perspective. You weren’t kicking me but you were offering your hand, willing to help me figure out what I really needed to. I’ve dated other girls but none of them have ever held a candle to you. I started to realize they were never good enough because they were never you.”

That’s your name that he’s saying and it’s your hands he’s now holding, looking deep into your eyes with a penetrating gaze that left you feeling weak in the knees. You had suspected something was up at first but there was no way for you to refute it now, Tenma was without a doubt confessing feelings that you never knew he had. You have to applaud the bravery but the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel restless, the close proximity with the orange-haired man not helping you untangle the many thoughts you were having. How did you feel about Tenma? He’d managed to so eloquently sum up your relationship and how deeply he felt for you and yet you were still stumbling around in your own head trying to find the proper way to respond.

There’s one moment over these last few months that really stood out to you, the one night you’d been holed up with a few other Mankai members watching an interview Tenma was involved with. You’d seen that romance was one of the topic of discussions and suddenly found yourself even more interested, waiting with bated breath as the question of Tenma’s relationship status is questioned; he scoffed, blushed, and brushed off the question as being an unimportant one, completely irrelevant to the movie he was about to star in. But the interviewer was rather insistent on getting an answer, pressuring poor Tenma into at least giving him a bread crumb.

“I like someone but her and I aren’t together.”

You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, receiving a knowing look from Banri who didn’t offer up anything snarky at the moment, turning back to watch the rest of the interview while you tried to calm your racing heart. That didn’t mean anything, right? He could like the actress he was on the job with, or any other number of women he interacted with on the daily, it didn’t mean he was talking about you but… Part of you hoped it was about you. You’d seen the way he looked at you before, you’d heard about the things he did just to have an excuse to talk to you but you’d always just amounted it to a schoolboy crush. But the Tenma standing before you now wasn’t just some kid, he was a hardworking adult who had matured over the years and who was confessing that his heart belonged to you.

You’re not an actor, you can’t come up with some dramatic dialogue with perfect metaphors for the love you felt for Tenma, but you were someone who shared his feelings and wanted to let him know that. Tenma went to pull away from you but before his hands can escape your grip you squeezed them, taking a step forward into his personal space, something you had always been careful about not doing before. You looked into his eyes, searching for something, hoping that none of this would turn out to just actually be some fake scene he wanted to act out but with the fondness he’s looking at you with now you knew his feelings had to be true. Or he had to be an even more talented actor than you’d originally thought but you were hoping you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself.

Leaning forward your lips brushed against his and Tenma followed through with your movement, quickly releasing your hands to hold either side of your face. He didn’t want you to pull away until he had his feel, his heart beating so loudly he’s sure you can hear it. This is a moment he’d dreamed of for years and you tasted so much sweeter than he ever expected, your lips ridiculously soft and potentially addicting. He could get lost in the feeling of holding you against him, his lungs beginning to burn from how long it’d been since he’d last took a breath, but he couldn’t find it in him to pull away from you. You seemed to feel the same as you made no move to dismiss him, kissing him back with just as much fervor, your hands grabbing onto his shirt and digging into the soft material to anchor him to you.

When you pulled away you were glad to see the cool guy façade he’d had up during his confession had completely disappeared, a dark blush adorned his face and left him looking even cuter than usual. You’re sure your face matches his in more ways than one but what does it matter now that you had him?

“I want… Please, be my girlfriend?” He’s looking away from you, unable to meet your eyes as though that was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done in front of you. You could bring up the masturbation incident but you figured that’d just ruin the mood.

“I think I can do that.” You leaned in to press a few more kisses to his lips, Tenma deepening them each time you attempted to pull away. Finally you block his lips with your hand, sending him a playful smile. “The others are waiting for us! We need to get back to business or we’ll just spend all day in here…”

“I could live with that.”

“Well I can’t! Now let’s get back and smooth out this performance, lover boy.”

~*~

This was riskier than you’d ever taken it but you missed your boyfriend dearly.

Tenma let out a soft groan as you grinded your lower body against his, dick already fighting with the costume he was wearing in an attempt to reach your warmth which seemed so close yet so far away. You couldn’t help but laugh as he started to strip you of your clothes, shaking your head as that would be too dangerous a thing to do while you were trying to get busy in his make-up trailer. Instead, you lower the top part of the dress (thankfully, it was stretchy as well as flowy) to show off your bare chest and slid your underwear down your leg, stuffing them into his pocket before you started to fumble with the zipper.

Tenma cursed as you released his dick from its prison, straddling his lap once more and using his shoulders to slowly lower yourself onto him. You both gasped at the same time, Tenma’s head falling back and brushing against the side of the trailer as he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to come quite yet. He knew it had to move quick as he didn’t know when someone would fetch him for his next scene but he had to savor how wonderful it felt to be inside you, how gorgeous you looked bouncing on his cock, your chest in his face as his hands reached around to grip at your ass. All he can think about is how sexy you are, how lucky he is to see you like this, groaning into your chest before he caught one of your nipples in his mouth. Your moan of approval only fuels him further, with Tenma taking control from under you by thrusting up and changing the rhythm entirely. He’s a bit rougher and more aggressive, hips angling to find that sweet spot inside you, tongue still toying with your hardened nipple when it all comes crashing down around him.

A knock on the trailer door caused you to jump off his lap instantly, his dick aching from the loss of contact even if his brain knew he had to scramble to get it together. He pushed you out of view of the door as he fixed himself, taking a quick glance in the mirror and hastily fixing himself before he opened said door. You did your best to stay out sight, fixing yourself just in case the assistant found their way inside and listening to the conversation your boyfriend was having. He was being rather curt but it was clear he was annoyed at being interrupted, and the only thing you get from him is an apologetic look before he leaves the trailer to go back to set.

You waited a few more minutes until things were truly quiet to get moving, sneaking your way from the trailer and seeing yourself out of the studio without further interruption. You wonder how frightened Tenma was about all of that, trying to think of what might hurt his reputation more; discovering that he was dating his director or them assuming you were just some random girl he’d called into his trailer to have sex with. Neither option seemed to be positive but… You and Tenma hadn’t talked much about the secretive nature of your relationship lately. You’d just recently overcome an issue in the relationship but it seemed like a new one was always willing to pop up when you least expected it. You tried to push this to the back of your mind, knowing Tenma wasn’t ashamed of you and that he did truly love you, but you still had to wonder if he ever thought about what would happen if the two of you really did get caught.

Surprisingly, you’re not the one to bring up the topic.

“I was asked if I had a girlfriend today.” Tenma had been showing clear signs of agitation, playing with the food on his plate instead of eating it. You had been patiently waiting for him to open up knowing if you approached the topic without him being the first one to speak he’d just close himself off and you might never know what was on his mind.

“What did you say?”

“I said… I said that I did.” Tenma looked in your eyes, searching for any sign of emotion; you simply looked surprised but that didn’t tell him if it was a happy surprised or a disappointed one.

He had thought making your relationship a secret was just as beneficial for you as it was him, in fact, he had done this entirely for you. Dating a celebrity was an entirely different world, even if you knew the real him and he wouldn’t suddenly change into a different person having the world prying into your romance might not have made things go as smoothly as they had been. The relationship had bumps in the road but things had always managed to work out, but would that have the same outcome if the tabloids and paparazzi were involved? Would you have been as willing to be patient with him? Would you even find any pleasure in being with him if your relationship was in the public eye? These questions scared him. He knew he should’ve been honest about it from the start but in the end, he continued to run from his feelings and even ignore the fact they existed.

But Tenma had to stop running.

He was tired.

He didn’t want to run anymore.

“We’ve almost been together a year now and I want to… I want to be able to post a picture of us. I want to make an annoying post like all those celebrities who think they have better love lives than the rest of us and I want people to be jealous that I have you all to myself. I know I’m the one who wanted us to be secret but I…” Tenma’s fingers tapped nervously against the table, his plate of food fully pushed away as you quietly listened to him. “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. I hate hiding things from everyone. I hate not being able to hold your hand in public. When we go places together I don’t want to have to be paranoid anymore. You understand how I feel, don’t you?”

“Of course I understand. Don’t you think I want the same things you do?” You stood up from your place across the table, circling around it to stand behind Tenma who’s shoulders were sagging. You could tell this was something he’d thought about more than he let on and if you were being honest, you were proud of him for managing to speak so honestly about his feelings with you. It was hard for him to articulate exactly how he felt much of the time but he’d managed to get his feelings across to you perfectly. “I don’t want to be a secret anymore either, handsome.”

Tenma leaned back into your arms as you hugged him from behind, your chin resting comfortably on his head.

“I’ll post about it then. On our anniversary.”

“I look forward to seeing what the sappy movie star has to say about me!”

You were not at all disappointed to see the post on Instablam the following week, nor were you surprised at the responses it received from some of your Mankai friends. Kazunari posted ‘KNEW IT’ with approximately a million exclamation points, Muku posted a heart emoji, Itaru posted ‘grats’, and you’re sure there are many others buried among the comments from his fans who were both disappointed and excited to see the star they loved in a happy relationship. He had warned you not to get too lost in the comments so you didn’t linger long, re-reading his post over and over again and smiling at the fact he chose to post the very first selfie you’d ever taken together. He might say he’s not good at being romantic but you knew he was a natural when he learned to just listen to what his heart told him.

There might still be many trials and tribulations for the two of you to overcome the longer you were together but you were happy, happier than you’d ever been, and you knew every bit of trouble was worth it.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Dangerous Woman–Mitch Rapp

Dedicated to @alyygx​

Part 2

I looked over my shoulder to see the man still following me. I've been noticing this guy outside all my classes, sitting outside my apartment building, and following me through campus. As I walked the long way back to my apartment to try and get away from him, I pulled out my phone.

"Y/N? Sweetie, you know you aren't supposed to call my Orion phone."

"Daddy?" I said my voice breaking.

"What's wrong, baby?" My dad asked, his voice turning into his famous "Stan Hurley" voice.

"I think. . . All day. . . Someone's following me, daddy. What do I do?"

"Are you on campus?"

"Yes," I said, my voice soft.

"Don't go back to your apartment," he said quickly.

"But," I stuttered. "Where do I go?"

"Walk around campus," he said instantly. "Stay out in public, surrounded by other people. The Barn isn't that far from your campus. Walk around until I can get there."

"But. . . What if this is nothing? What if I'm just being paranoid?"

"You're not, baby. You're my daughter. If you think someone has been following you around all day, then they are." I heard him sigh before he continued, "My team and I are going after a pretty big target. I think he might be following you."

"Oh," I said under my breath.

"Listen to me, baby," my dad said gently. "I'm not going to let him hurt you. Okay? I'll be there soon."

"Okay," I stuttered. "Please hurry."

I hung up the phone and nervously walked over to a bench in the middle of campus. I looked around to see everyone walking around, minding their own business. I pulled out my book and tried to occupy myself.

Even though I sat and read for about ten minutes, I struggled to focus on my book. I jumped every time someone walked by me. I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath.

"Y/N?"

I let out a sigh of relief when I looked up from my book to see my dad walking towards me. I shoved my book in my bag, threw it over my shoulder, and jumped up. I ran over to him, instantly jumping into his arms.

"It's alright," my dad shushed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm here."

"Daddy?" I said as I pulled out of the hug. "I don't. . . I know I need to stay in school, but I don't feel. . . I mean, I haven't. . ."

"Sweetheart, if you don't feel safe, I can fix that."

I smiled as I leaned back into his chest. He sighed as he tightened his arms around me. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's get you back to the Barn. Lucky for you, I've got a house full of assassins who will help me protect you."

He pulled out of the hug and grabbed my backpack from me. I laughed as he grabbed my hand and led me over to his car. He opened the door for me, still smiling at me.

I looked over and sucked in a breath when I saw a guy around my age in the front seat. "Oh," I said under my breath. "Hi."

He looked over his shoulder at me and sighed. I nervously looked at my hands when he turned back around. I bit my lip as I heard my dad get in the front seat.

"Rapp, this is my daughter, Y/N."

"Our special mission was coming all the way to a college campus to pick up your daughter? What? She couldn't walk the one mile back to her apartment?" The boy scoffed.

"For your information, a man was following her all day." Hurley sighed. He looked over his shoulder at me and sent me a smile.

"So?" Rapp scoffed. "It's a college campus. I'm sure a lot of men follow her around. That guy probably just thought she was hot."

"Actually," dad said through his teeth, "I saw him. It was Keller's hitman. He sent his guy to follow Y/N. Keller was going to hurt my daughter because you killed his son. He can't go after you, so he went after me."

Rapp watched as my father reached his hand back to me. I instantly grabbed it, smiling as I intertwined our fingers.

                       * * * * *

I walked into the house, my dad's arm tightly wrapped around my waist. I looked around and smiled.

"It hasn't changed," I said under my breath.

"Yeah well, you left me and I didn't feel like redecorating."

"And it's a good thing you didn't," I laughed.

"Is that Baby Hurley?"

I turned around and smiled when I saw Victor walking into the front room.

"Hi," I smiled as I walked over. I laughed as he pulled me into a hug.

"How you doing, kiddo?" He asked as he pulled out of the hug.

"I'm fine," I said, avoiding his eyes.

"What happened?" Victor asked, glancing at Hurley. "I thought you didn't want her around the guys anymore? That's why she went to college."

He looked back at me before gently grabbing my shoulders. "Y/N, what happened?"

"Keller sent his hitman after her, "my dad explained when I hesitated.

"What?!"

Victor along with the other men in the room looked between Hurley and me. They all started shouting out threats and concerns.

"What did he do?"

"I'm gonna kill him."

"We won't let him get to you."

"That asshole."

"Who goes after an innocent like that?"

"Apparently Keller does."

As the men continued to shout out half-empty threats, Rapp looked around the group with a confused look on his face.

"That's enough!" Hurley yelled over the angry assassins. Once they all calmed down, my dad walked over to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Until we take care of Keller, Y/N is staying here with us. She'll be under protection and supervision at all times."

"Dad," I whispered.

"Y/N," he interrupted me, "I told you we would protect you and we will. At all times. One assassin will be by your side every day and at night, we'll have guards outside your room."

"But, Dad," I sighed.

"No," he interrupted me again. He turned towards me and leaned down, grabbing my hands in his. "I promised that I would protect you. And that's what we're going to do. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm not losing you like we lost your mother."

I sighed as I instantly wrapped my arms around him. He laughed as he wrapped his arms tightly around me, giving me a squeeze.

"We've got your back." We pulled out of our hug to see Victor nodding at us. "Baby Hurley is going to be perfectly safe with us."

                       * * * * *

I've been back at the Barn about a week now and things have gone back to normal. Everyone has already gotten used to me being around. Well, almost everyone.

Mitch Rapp is the only one who has been uneasy about my presence. Then again, he joined Orion after I left for college two years ago. So it's understanding that he isn't used to me yet.

I was sitting at the kitchen table when Mitch walked in. He didn't even look at me as he grabbed a beer out of the fridge. I sighed as he opened it and instantly left.

I stopped writing my paper and leaned back in my chair. I ran my fingers through my hair, sighing in defeat.

Why does he hate me so much? Since the very beginning, he's given me the cold shoulder.

"You okay, kiddo?"

I looked over to see Victor walk over to the fridge and grab a beer. I smiled as he grabbed a second one, opened them both, and walked over to me. He sat down across from me and handed me the second beer.

"Trouble with homework?" He tried to joke. His smile fell when he saw the look on my face. "What's wrong?"

"It's just," I sighed. "Mitch Rapp doesn't like me very much, does he?"

"He doesn't like anyone," Victor laughed as he slightly shook his head. He stopped laughing when he saw the loon on my face. "Don't take it too personally. He's sworn off women since. . ."

"Since what?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Since his fiancé was killed by terrorists 18 months ago," Victor sighed.

"Oh," was all I could say. I looked down at my computer, flooded with guilt.

"Don't worry, kiddo," he sighed. "Give him time and he'll get used to having you around. Remember when you were about 13 and you moved in here from your grandparent's house? All the guys were totally freaked around you. It took us weeks to get used to you."

"That's true," I chuckled as I remembered when I first came here. "I thought the guys were gonna have a heart attack every time I walked into the room."

"Exactly," Victor laughed. "Just give Rapp another week or so and he'll get used to having you around."

I sighed as he stood up and patted me on the shoulder. I bit my lip as he walked out of the kitchen. I slowly went back to doing my homework, partly distracted by the newfound information about Mitch Rapp.

                       * * * * *

A few days later, I was walking across the house when my dad jogged up to me.

"Hi," I laughed as he stopped in front of me. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine," he smirked at me. "I just. . . Come with me."

"Where are we going?" I stuttered as he pulled me down the hallway. He didn't answer as he continued to lead me through the house until we got to his office.

"Dad, what are we. . ." I stopped talking when we walked in and saw Rapp sitting in front of my dad's desk. "What is this?" I asked softly as I turned towards my dad.

"Listen," he started to explain, "I've been thinking and even though you are surrounded by assassins, I would feel more comfortable if you at least learned how to shoot a gun."

"But. . ."

"I know," he sighed as he grabbed my hand and walked me over to the other chair in front of his desk. Still holding my hand, he sat on his desk in front of me.

"I know I used to say I didn't want you to have anything to do with this side of my life, but this is about your safety. In case something does happen, I want you to be able to defend yourself."

"I thought that's why you have an assassin around me 24/7," I laughed. I quickly stopped laughing when I saw the look on my dad's face. I cleared my throat before looking back down at mine and my dad's intertwined hands.

"Are you going to teach me?" I said under my breath, not looking up from our hands.

"Actually, Rapp here is going to help me train you."

I shot my head up and out of the corner of my eye I saw Rapp do the same thing.

"Wait, what?" Rapp scoffed. "You want me to train her how to hold a gun?"

I looked down, my cheeks burning when Rapp let out a sarcastic laugh. His laugh was cut off by my dad glaring at him. "Rapp, need I remind you that she's my daughter? Plus, I'm your boss. If I tell you to train my daughter on how to shoot a gun, then that is exactly what you're going to do."

Rapp took a deep breath before sighing. "When would you like us to start, sir?"

I looked over at him wanting to scoot away from him, but I held my ground.

"Now would be nice." My dad nodded at him before turning towards me. "I'll check in on you two in about an hour. I have a meeting with Irene to talk about a potential plan to finish Keller off once and for all."

I nodded as he stood up and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Before he walked away, he turned towards Rapp and threatened, "You better take care of her, Rapp. And try not to be yourself."

"What does that mean?" Rapp scoffed.

"Try and be a nice person," Hurley sighed. "For my sake and for hers."

We both sat there as Hurley left the room. I sighed, nervously twiddling my fingers as I waited. I wasn't sure if I was waiting for him to say something or for me to gather enough courage to say something.

"I guess we should go," he sighed before standing up.

"Don't get too excited on me," I mumbled. I looked up, biting my lip when the expression on his face clearly told me he had heard me.

"Let's just get this over with," he sighed as he turned on his heel and walked away. I quickly stood up and followed him.

When I finally got to the gun range, I hesitated outside the door. Guns have always made me nervous. I grew up with my dad working for the CIA, but I've never held a gun. My mom always hated them and told me how dangerous they were.

"Are you coming or what?" Rapp said through his teeth.

"Hey!" I looked over to see Victor on the other side of the room. "Stop being such an ass, Rapp. Take it easy on her."

Rapp just rolled his eyes as he roughly grabbed a gun, threw the strap over his head, and aimed the gun at the target. I slightly jumped when he pulled the trigger several times.

He tossed the gun back on the table and turned towards me, crossing his arms over his chest. The way he was smirking at me made me feel uneasy.

Victor jogged over to me, glaring at Rapp as he passed him. "Hey," he whispered. "Take a deep breath, Y/N. He's just being an ass."

"Victor," I said under my breath. "I hate guns."

"I know, kiddo." He sighed, gently rubbing his hands up and down my arms. "But the only reason Hurley wants you trained is just in case. He wants you as safe as possible."

"I know," I sighed. I took a deep breath before standing up straighter. "I am Stan Hurley's daughter. It's about time I embrace that."

"Thatta girl," Victor said sending me a smirk and a wink. "Go get him."

I nodded as I walked over to Rapp. "You ready?" He asked, not trying to hide his annoyance.

"I guess," I stuttered, my nerves jumping as I got closer to him.

"Here," he said. I jumped as he shoved the gun into my hands. "Show me what you've got."

"I've. . . I've never. . ."

Rapp sighed as he took the gun from me and started showing me the different parts and how to hold it. Once I got it down, he pointed at the target without saying a word.

I took a shaky breath as I adjusted my aim. I took another shaky breath before putting my finger on the trigger.

"Would you just shoot already?" Rapp sighed. I glanced over at him to see him leaning against the table with a bored look on his face.

I looked back over at the target and took another deep breath. After a second of hesitation, I pulled the trigger. My eyes widened as I saw I actually hit the target.

"I got it," I said under my breath.

"You didn't just get it," Rapp said. "You hit the bullseye."

I looked over at him to see him already watching me with wide eyes and his jaw practically on the floor.

"Damn," he said under his breath. "Guess you really are Hurley's daughter, Ace."

                       * * * * *

Rapp has been training me for about a week now and my aim has gotten more and more accurate. After I had shooting down, Mitch offered to start training me in hand-to-hand combat. After my dad okayed it, of course.

The more time Rapp and I have spent together, the more comfortable we are around each other. I wasn't as nervous around him as I was at first. And I think he was more comfortable around me.

I walked into the kitchen to get something to drink. I sat down at the island and slowly drank my cup of coffee. I gasped, taken back when I saw Rapp leaning in the kitchen doorway.

"You know you can come in, right?" I laughed when I noticed him not making any move to come in.

"Yeah," he chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair. I watched as he slowly walked in, hesitating before grabbing a beer. We sat in silence, neither one of us saying anything.

"I was talking to Hurley about you," he said, being the first to break the silence. "I told him about your progress. He was impressed. He kept laughing and saying, "That's my girl"."

I couldn't help but blush. I looked back down at my mug of coffee, avoiding his gaze. "Thanks," I said as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"You're getting pretty good," Rapp commented. "Must be in the Hurley blood."

"Must be," I chuckled. The silence returned as we drank our drinks. I was just about to get up and put my mug in the sink but stopped when Rapp broke the silence again.

"Can I ask you something?" Rapp stuttered.

"Sure," I shrugged.

"When we picked you up, Hurley reached his hand back and you took it. Why?"

I laughed, making him look up at me. "When I was younger, my dad traveled a lot for his job with the CIA. He always took my mom and me with him. I didn't mind growing up around the world. The only thing was, I always got car sick. So, my dad would reach behind and hold my hand."

"And that helped?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "It did."

Before he could say something, alarms started going off. Rapp and I both looked at each other, our facial expressions matching.

"What is that?" I stuttered.

"The perimeter alarms," Rapp said as he walked across the kitchen.

"What do they mean?"

I gasped as he pulled out two guns from behind the fridge. "It means someone is breaking in."

"And that someone is. . ."

"Keller."

As soon as that name left his lips, my heart jumped into my throat. "Oh no," I said under my breath. My hands started to shake as Rapp walked over to me.

"Here," he said handing me the gun. When I didn't take it, he sighed. "Y/N, come on. We've gotta go. I know you're scared. Use that."

"Rapp," I stuttered.

He grabbed my hand as he lowered his voice. "Listen, you are in the middle of a house full of assassins. You're going to be fine. I promise."

"But. . ."

"Hey," he said gently. "I'm not going to leave your side, Ace. You can trust me."

I nodded as he tried to hand me the gun again. I hesitated before finally taking it.

"Let's go."

We ran through the house, trying to find my father. Whenever we came across one of Keller's men, Rapp instantly took them out. Me, on the other hand, just tried to stay out of the way.

While Rapp was fighting the hitman Keller sent after me a couple of days ago, I suddenly felt someone walked up behind me. I gasped as I saw Keller smirking at me.

"Where's Daddy Dearest?" He mocked. I looked over my shoulder to see Rapp losing his fight.

"I umm. . . I just. . . He's. . ."

I gasped and took a step back as he took a step closer to me. "Don't be scared of me, honey. I'm just going to bring you with me."

With that, he charged me. Thanks to my training with Rapp, I saw Keller's advancements coming. I instantly dodged him, getting ready to fight back. I noticed that he was taken back by my ability to counteract all his punches. My gun was knocked out of my hands and disappeared somewhere in the middle of our fight.

I gasped as he wrapped his arm around me, starting to drag me down the hallway. I looked up right as Rapp took down his guy. He looked over, his eyes widening when he saw Keller dragging me away.

Before we could get around the corner, Rapp charged us. He tackled both of us to the ground, giving me the chance to get out of Keller's hold. Breathing hard, I backed up as Rapp started fighting him.

When my back was to the wall, I noticed Rapp's discarded gun not far away from me. I carefully made my way over to it, my hands shaking as I grabbed it.

I stood up and aimed the gun, waiting for the right time. When it came, I didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. I watched, my breath stuck in my throat as Keller fell to the ground. Rapp looked down at Keller's body before slowly looking at me.

"Y/N," Rapp said under his breath. Just then, Dad, Victor, and a few other assassins came around the corner.

"Y/N!" My dad ran over and wrapped his arms around my frozen body. He pulled out of the hug and looked over his shoulder at Rapp.

"You killed Keller," he said under his breath. "You saved her."

"Actually," Rapp smirked at me. "It wasn't me. It was your daughter."

Everyone looked at me with wide eyes. "Y/N, baby, is that true?"

"I umm. . . I guess. . . I was just. . . He attacked me and then Rapp came in and. . ." I stuttered, still shaking.

My dad laughed as he pulled me back into the hug. "Good job, baby girl." He whispered, not pulling out of the hug. He rubbed my back as I slowly stopped shaking.

"Nicely done, Baby Hurley." Victor laughed. I leaned out of the hug to see Victor and the other assassins leaving.

Except for Rapp. He stood there with a smile as he watched my father and me. Dad finally pulled out of the hug, looking down at me with soft eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dad whispered, slightly rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

"I'm fine," I stuttered, not even sounding convincing to myself. He sighed before finally letting me go.

"Look, I have to go through and check on my guys. Plus, we've got a mess to clean up. I'll check on you in a little while?"

"Okay," I stuttered. "I'll just. . . I'll be in my room."

"Good." I smiled as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'm proud of you, kid."

"Thanks, Daddy," I said under my breath.

"Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too."

I sighed as he turned around and walked away. I wrapped my arms around myself, my cheeks burning when I looked over to see Rapp still watching us. I tucked my hair behind my ear as Rapp took a few steps closer to me.

"Nice shootin', Ace."

"Thanks," I said under my breath, retucking that same piece of hair behind my ear. I gasped as he took a step closer, gently reaching up and putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his voice soft.

"I'm fine," I sighed, looking down at my hands. I sucked in a breath when Rapp pulled me into his chest, instantly wrapping his arms around me.

"I know you're not," he whispered. "But I'll pretend to believe you anyway."

[soldierallen]

Grief.

Summary: y/n’s grieving the lost of her mom and knowing her best friend watched her mother die, she was going through a lot until he came back.

Warnings ⛔️: DEATH, a lot of grief, pain, anger, hurt, anxiety, BLOOD, wounds, Afterlife. If you can’t deal with grief or death please do not read this! you’re reading at your own risk of being sad or feelings of anxiety

Friend!Bucky x Reader

Evil!Steve x Reader

Based off this quote

“and it wasn’t until i looked around and saw everyone with someone that i realized i never had anyone”

and you were good to me by Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler

I look around this room, at all these people... grieving for my mother at the wake we buried her earlier it was an attack that the avengers should’ve stopped it was suppose to end she got in a line of fire I watched her die in the middle of the street she worked for shield for years the avengers were suppose to prevent this. She sat next to her brother and her father greeting the guests as they gave their condolences, and she seen Steve Rogers walk in, her rage filling her whole body she kissed her teenage brother’s forehead he just lost his mother she felt so sorry for him

“Get out” she walked up to him quietly to not make a scene “y/n I knew your mother” he said “you could’ve fucking stopped it and I don’t want you here Steve leave!” she said in a whisper “just know that I love you like a sister and I wish this would’ve never happened okay” she walked away and steve felt defeated leaving she hugged her brother very tightly “why don’t you go to bed I’ll take care of everything” “I don’t wanna leave you alone” he said she let go of him hugging her again “I’m really sorry” she said crying a little “me and dad we’ll be okay, I wanna see you some days though maybe stay the night if it’s okay with you”

“I think she’ll budge” a very familiar voice was heard, she turned around “bucky” her breath skipping to see how was there she hugged him so tightly “hey buttercup” he smiled smelling her hair and engulfing himself in her “you’re back?” she said he shook his head yes “I heard what happened, I wasn’t gonna stay in wakanda while you two were grieving” he pulled her brother into a hug “hey buddy” he squeezed the younger boy almost as tall as him just a few inches shorter than bucky, time passed as bucky stood by her as she walked people out and he smiled at her every once & awhile or touched her hand to tell her he was there for her, and when the day came to an end her father sent her brother to bed and her father went to bed as well, She and Bucky cleaned the house in silence with a few words here and there

“buttercup” her eyes perked up as she cleaned the last of the dishes and he wiped the tables down “let’s go somewhere” he put the towel on the handle of oven just like her mother did, she shook her head at the moment “where?” “a place where you can scream” she laughed for the first time in a week “you think I need to scream” she asked and he nodded yes “I know you want to scream I’m watching it on your face” he laughed leaning on the counter she finished washing the dishes and held onto him “you know buck I’m glad you’re here...” shook his head like “I know” he hugged her tight kissing her hair, he put his leather jacket on and grabbed her hand they walked out

“I wonder what it like to be loved” she saw a man and women holding hands at night passing by a car with two men one kissing the other as they stopped at a red light

“but I love you?” he says she shakes her head no, he gives her a confused look “not like that, you love nat.. you’ve always loved nat” he understood what she meant “I looked around a room today filled with people who were married, engaged, who had someone they loved next to them I never had anyone like that buck I feel like I never will and it kills me” she said swallowing the ball in her throat she fixed her long boots trying to stop her from crying

“You will find someone who loves you, I promise” he said putting his hand on her thigh squeezing it for a second “I wonder if anyone’s ever looked at me and said I love her I wish I could be with her” , it was like a sign from her mom she heard a song on the radio and both her and Bucky looked at each other... “you did this you put it on!” She yelled at bucky “I didn’t look change the station” and she did...bucky didn’t do it it was an actual sign from her mother.. her mother loved Stevie Wonder the song isn’t she lovely played so loudly in the car she felt like crying “she always thought you were wonderful buttercup” he smiled rubbing her cheek. Tears fell from her eyes his sympathetic look as he kissed the back of her hand “come on sing, she would’ve wanted this” and finally rage filled her again knowing she didn’t have to die if it wasn’t for the avengers, if they fucking did their job she stopped talking looking out the window as the song played it was already twilight “we’re in mountain territory” he said, “mount marcy?” she was a bit suspicious..

they walked up, “okay do it” he said “like right now”

“yeah” he put his sunglasses on rubbing his hands together, he screamed so loudly it echoed it literally took everything in him not to cry, and she joined in with him crying.. she broke down falling down and he held onto her as she broke, the grief the guilt everything finally hitting her at once the crying felt like it wouldn’t stop. “It’s okay buttercup” she was hiccuping at point tears streaming down her face she couldn’t stop she was so tired. “I hate him I fucking hate him” she cried out “he watched her, Steve watched the light go out of her eyes and knew it was over and he walked away HE LEFT ME ALONE WITH HER” she cried into his arms a few tears falling from his eyes “I’ll never talk to him again.” Her mouth becoming so dry her face was red bloodshot eyes and drippy nose it wasn’t just she’s dead it was that Steve left, he didn’t even try to help her he just got up and left.

“I don’t think I can go-go on, knowing the things Steve did to me-me... my family it’s like I saw something in his eyes that changed-changed he-he had a switch that was turned-d off... he wasn’t human” he cradled her in his arms, listening to her word vomit everything she’s had in her head for the past week.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna figure it out.” He kissed her head. after another hour of silence they sat on the mountain top crying with each other and they got in the car it was comfortable silence but it was silent... “your place or home?” “home” he nodded taking her back, he got out the car and opening her car door she hugged him “thank you for tonight, go back to her and love her until your heart gives out bucky” he smiled “I love you too.” She walked up to her door walking in, she did love bucky but never like that. when she walked into the home a single light was on someone sitting on the couch

“dad?” “not even close” ... “steve” she was taken aback “why are you here” “she got in my way” she couldn’t believe the words she was hearing “excuse me?” her anger radiating off of her “you and your family always get in my way” he was angry “Steve whatever this is we can fix this” she started to get scared.. “you killed your mother, because you came with her you aren’t suppose to come with her you were suppose to come alone” she was getting waves of anxiety she felt sick “Steve, please don’t do this”

“it was suppose to be you” he grabbed her swiftly by the throat her breathing wavering as he choked her “Steve” she breathed out gasping for air “you always get in the way and make me look like the bad guy, well it’s over for you” there was a knocking at the door “it’s Bucky” she said gasping “answer the fucking door and make him go away” he let her go she fell to the floor not being able to breathe, “it’s Bucky? You left your sweater in the car” she tried getting up she looked at Steve with a devilish look “you even think about alerting him I’ll fucking kill you” what did she have to lose at this point she thought...her brother her father.

“hey” she smiled rubbing her neck “you okay?” He asked she nodded he handed her the sweater “I’ll call you tomorrow okay?” “yeah, uh and James can you do me favor close the lid for the trash the possums keep getting in” she laughed, he gave her a look, he knew something was wrong. “Yeah I’ll do it now, see you y/n” he said her name instead of buttercup he knew and he gave her a signal. she closed the door and just as she closed the door she pushed back up against the wall “open your eyes I wanna watch the light go out just like your mother” “Steve what happened to you” she choked as her body was shoved up against the wall “wouldn’t you like to know? Ha” he laughed devilishly “this isn’t you” she cried “it’s me don’t worry” and at that moment she felt herself passing out she blacked out when she heard a lot noise break the door alerting her brother and father she woke up a little watching Bucky and Steve start fighting each other “go” she screamed at her father and her brother to leave the house “go now” Bucky’s mouth was bleeding and Steve picked up y/n off the floor “Stevie this isn’t you” bucky screamed

“It’s always been me, I’ve always been a monster” and just then he stabs her in the stomach “fuck” Bucky’s whole body goes into shock watching Steve stab her he grabs him and punches him until he knocks out “help is on the way” he took off his flannel putting pressure on the big wound he left the knife sticking out he didn’t remove it of course “I called Tony and he’s calling the police we’ll be okay come on, stay awake” he yelled holding her body “you were so good to me, you’ve always been so good to me” she coughed “all these years I wanted someone to love me for there to be someone in a room who truly loved me and it was you, all this time” she touched his face and he leaned into “you’re okay you’re gonna make it through this don’t say shit like that to me” Tony bursted in the door with shield swat and an ambulance “TONY SHE HAS TO GET TO A HOSPITAL NOW FLY HER THERE” “bucky” “PLEASE TONY” Tony nodded his head carrying her “hey buttercup let’s get you out of here” she smiled at him “hi tony” tears escaped her eyes he walked out the house and flew up into the air taking her to the nearest hospital, “doctor cho it’s y/n” as they got to the front doors she nodded as they got her on a gurney sending her in the back he called shield swat “what the fuck happened” he said “mr Rogers killed Martha Nelson and tried to kill y/n tonight” he said, he rubbed his face in annoyance “why how when?”

“Hey y/n ” he smiled at her “bucky...where am I” she asked “ICU” “this doesn’t seem right” “I knew you were gonna question it” he laughed “what?” “you’re dead y/n” he got up “so am dead? you’re dead too?” She started to worry “Bucky’s fine, he doesn’t even know you’re dead yet, do you wanna stay” the man who looked like Bucky but wasn’t Bucky sat down on a chair “I..I can’t go back I need to know if my families okay” “that won’t be necessary” he crossed his legs “what?” “you’re brother dies in” he looks at his watch “12 hours? And you’re father dies of a heart attack in...3 days” her eyes open wide “what” she was panicked and in shock “if you let yourself go right now, that’s the outcome. If you go back your brother lives and so does your father” she couldn’t let them die not because of her, I have to go home even tho I’m grieving I can’t lose them too. “Wake me up get me out of here” she said her eyes opened Bucky on her left side and her father and brother on the right.. “you’re all okay?” She said as the first words of her waking up they nodded their heads crying all hugging her “I can’t believe you died and you’re asking everyone if their okay?, you’re not allowed to die” Her brother said crying “I’m not going anywhere bud, I am not.” She cried holding onto him.

She never felt loved in a relationship but she surely was loved by bucky her brother and her father, that’s all she needed.