#press those loverboy lips on MINE

[vampiricgf]

lil drabble of satoru n reader on a cute pottery class date because I haven't been able to stop thinking about them sobs gimme loverboy satoru pls pls (credit @neptuneblue for this sweet idea ilysm)

0.8k. sfw. set in the same universe as this frat boy gojo fic

You drove past the place weeks ago, nearly getting into an accident maneuvering through traffic to pull into the parking lot and furiously take down the info in the little sign on the window.

Now offering couples pottery classes!

It was perfect and that night you'd spent hours giggling on the old futon in Satorus room talking about going in next week to try a class together. It made your chest feel full and tight, like a million bufferflies were fluttering their wings around hearing him chatter excitedly to you about making the cutest bowl for you.

Just watch, mines gonna be the most adorable one!

You can hear it now in the back of your mind as you stare at your forlorn lover with wet clay splattered all over his hands and smeared in odd patches on his nose and cheeks and you try to hold in the building storm of giggles that threatens to burst like the snap of bubblegum popping.

"What's wrong, baby?" You ask, glancing between the thick, wobbly bowl sitting in front of him and those jewel toned eyes.

"Nothin',' he says and you bite your lip as the laughter threatens to spill over once more.

"It's not nothing, tell me what's up, please?" You implore, reaching across the table to grasp one of his hands, feeling the clay smearing against his and your skin.

His eyes look anywhere but at you for a moment, flicking around the studio before he heaves a particularly dramatic sigh and presses the back of your hand to his cheek.

"I was supposed to make the cutest one for you. Look at it, it's awful."

He sounds so morose you can't help the way you want to get up from the table and cradle his face in your hands, press him against your chest and smother him in affection.

What a big baby.

You can feel your eyes softening before you speak. "Toru you know anything you make me is adorable, right?"

"Aw, don't do the mom voice please baby I can't handle it."

That makes the flurry of giggles erupt, which only serves to deepen his pout and he lets go of your hand abruptly with a hmph before playfully looking away from you. That makes it even harder to catch your breath against the stream of laughter but eventually you do, rising to come around to his side of the table and placing a sweet kiss to his cheek that isn't marred by drying clay.

"I'm serious, I love everything you give me or make for me 'Toru. Because it's from you. But-" you cover his mouth with your hand before he can interrupt, ignoring his exaggerated sounds that threaten to derail your thoughts entirely, "what if we finished it together? Then they'd be like a matching set, like me and you."

You smile at him, removing your hand and for a moment you wonder if maybe you said the wrong thing because he looks so... dumbstruck. It only lasts for a second though, quickly replaced by that familiar, comforting smile.

"Yeah, just like me and you."

It's so soft you almost miss it over the din of others around you in the studio but you don't miss the way your heartbeat picks up, pounding against your ribs as he brushes your knuckles against his lips before turning his attention back to the clay in front of him.

You've never felt so gripped by the urge to tackle and kiss anyone like you do with Satoru.

[koulakoukoula2003]

Confession (Levi x Reader)

Pairing: Levi x Reader, Levi x You, Levi x OC

Genre: Fluff, sooooo much fluff

Trigger warning: strong language cuz it's Levi what did you expect lol

Summary: After rushing you all the way from Utgard Castle to a hospital in Trost, Levi finds himself driven in the verge of despair. The thought of losing you -you, the person he grew up with in the Underground. You, the woman who had stood by him for as long as he can remember- it’s just too much to deal with. He has to let you know how he feels, because he may never get the chance again. 

You’re both living in a cruel world, after all. 

A/N: This is the second part from my latest shortfic. If you wanna read the previous part, it’s right here Part 1. But you won’t have to if you’re feeling lazy 🤣 It’s written in 3rd Person’s POV. 

Light slowly penetrated her eyelids as she began to stir. (Y/n) realised her head wasn’t resting back against a soft pillow. She could tell she was covered in blankets, but hands were around her too. Warm fingers were tangled between her own and the weight of a man’s cheek pressed on the top of her forehead. A rhythmic heartbeat thrummed beneath her ear, and she knew her cheek was pressed against his chest.

It was Levi, wasn’t it? She could tell she was in a hospital from the whiteness of the room’s walls. Had he really taken her there? Wasn’t it dangerous to go out in titan territory all on his own and rush his way there with her unconscious body? But she had to remind herself. Nothing was dangerous for Levi.

Levi had saved her life. He risked going out on his own only to take her back to safety, and fast. She was supposed to be dead. There was a time that she might’ve wanted that, but there was something that had brought tears in her eyes the moment she realised she was going to die last night. It was the thought of never seeing him again. It was the thought of never getting to tell him how much she loved him.

But everything was alright now. He had brought her to safety. He had saved her life. She was on a bed, but he was holding her. Her body was resting back against his own, and his hands were keeping both her own warm beneath the blankets. But then the pain returned. It returned and it stung harshly in her stomach, but thankfully, she could say she had stopped losing blood. Still, she let out a wince that she didn’t have enough time to muffle back.

That wince was loud enough to snap his eyes open and look down at her worriedly. “Are you okay? Are you in pain? Wait here. I’ll go get the doc-” Levi’s hands let go of her own, and he tried to stand up and walk away, but she grasped his hands and kept him in place.

“No. Stay,” Having her asking him to stay. It startled him. But he welcomed that request. He laced their fingers together once more, and he watched her as she buried her face in his neck like a kitten, starved of affection. She breathed shakily and she shut her eyes as it all came back to her.

Mike being squeezed to death. Nanaba and Gelgar being torn apart, whilst shouting her name for help. Lynne and Henning being crushed beneath debris, and Ymir being cannibalised alive. (Y/n) was too weak to protect any of them. Too wounded and too weak to do anything. She had given it all after her ODM got useless. She had no choice but to dive into her own death. Accept defeat, and give in. Jump from the tower right into a titan’s mouth. She couldn’t stand back and watch the terrified looks in the faces of those children of the 104th.

“It was… terrifying,” Her voice cracked and tears overflowed her eyes and slipped down her cheeks unexpectedly. She hadn’t realised how much scared she was until she remembered how being safe feels. Her hands let go off his and reached for his shirt, grasping it and bringing him closer. Clutching onto the only man that could bring her relief and reassurance. “I thought I was going to die…” Another tear slipped down her cheek “…I thought I was never going to see you again-”

“It’s alright, now, (y/n),” Levi cut her. A hand found her back, clutching on her shirt, the other, her hair, pressing her face against his chest. He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve got you. I always have,”

“Thank you, Levi,”

Was she really thanking him? “Oi, what the fuck are you even thanking me about?” Levi pulled back to look down at her. He pressed his forehead against her own. A rough thumb found her cheeks and wiped away her tears. “I’d do anything for you,”

Those words drew her mind away from the terrors of last night, and she stared into those silver eyes finally realising how much scared he too must have been last night. She knew she meant a lot to him, and he meant a lot to her, but what were they to each other anymore? They’ve been friends. Best friends. Comrades. What now? Levi didn’t know whether it’d be the wrong choice that would ruin everything. And he didn’t know whether it’d be the right choice that would fix everything. 

But fuck it. He was tired of waiting. He had to grasp the chance for as long as they had left. He had her now, but he could lose her tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Or some other time. He had to grasp the chance whilst she was still there. In his arms. 

And just like that, he stole her first kiss. His lips engulfed her own and it left her wide-eyed for a moment. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. But she melted right away. His tongue penetrated her lips and met her own. He hummed upon her taste and his hands clutched around her bringing her closer. She wasn’t pushing him away. She was kissing him back. Her hand found his face. Her soft thumb stroked his cheek and he realised he couldn’t stop tasting her. It was her first kiss, and it was addicting.

He only pulled back to allow her to breathe. She looked hazed and mesmerised. Her taste was still on his lips and his hands found her face, making sure he had her attention. “Do you understand now why I need you to be safe?” Levi asked. “I love you, (y/n),”

Those words were the words that she never thought she’d hear coming from him. Not like this. She never thought anybody would want her like this. For all she knew, she and Hange were the nerdy, crazy scientists that everybody was scared of. But Levi knew her better than that. No. He knew her better than anyone.

“I love you too, Levi,”

The words flew right out of her mouth before she even had the chance to think. But she couldn’t hold it back. Not now that she knew he felt the same. Not now that she new she didn’t have to debate on why he was holding her when she knew exactly why. He loved her. She couldn’t believe it. She could no longer feel the pain on her wound, and all those terrors from last night seemed to be far behind her.

Levi was still surprised that she felt the same. But he didn’t waste a moment further. He kissed her again and her fingers clutched around his shirt urging him to lean closer. His tongue gently danced with her own, and he couldn’t even begin to realise how much he wanted this. He wanted to keep tasting her. She was his. She had always been and it was now apparent to both of them. His arms tightened around her. He bit gently down on her lip and she let out soft whimper. Mine. Utterly.

“Oh boy, poor girl just woke up and you’re already on top of her!”

No. No, fuckin’, way. It was Hange. Levi’s eyebrow twitched from anger that he was suppressing. He gritted his teeth as he stopped kissing Nathalie and turned shooting a glare towards the entrance where Hange stood. They didn’t look good, but that didn’t stop him from shouting at them.

“Hange!” Levi growled. “Haven’t you learned how to knock?!”

“Section Commander! You’re supposed to be in bed!” Moblit cried out as he followed behind them. And he was right. Hange’s entire face and hands were red to the point that (y/n) could say that something had burned them. They were standing with the help of a crutch. Moblit didn’t look any better.

“Moblit’s right, you look like shit,” Levi agreed.

“I’m fine!” Hange cried out before they turned their attention back at the two. “I need to consult my fellow second in command scientist, provided loverboy here has any intention of getting off of her,”

(Y/n)’s hand reached for her cheek. A failed attempt to cover the blush that had started spreading down her neck. “R- Right-”

“Hange-” Levi growled again, but (y/n) sealed his lips with the palm of her hand and he turned and looked at her.

(Y/n) pulled her hand away and she gave him a smile. “It’s alright. You know how Hange gets,”

“Reiner and Berthold! THEY GOT EREN!” Hange cried out and the couple’s eyes widened. 

Oh shit. 

A/N: There you go!!! Feel free to reblog! Lemme know what you guys think! If you wanna read the continuation, it’s my huge ass Levi x OC fic on ao3. Thank you for reading!! 🥰🥰

[milk-carton-whump]

To celebrate me being back, here is the long overdue last piece of the story, part 7 to Stuck in the Middle!!

Part 1 Part 6

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @sideblogformindtrash @tears-and-lilies @unicornscotty @abitefullofeverything @getyourwhumphere @whumpasaurus101 @lektric-whump @twistedcaretaker @skunkandgrenade @heathenville @freefallingup13 @sunnysunfire @alliecat5594 @whatwasmyprevioususername @redstainedsocks @justabitofwhump

CW: caretaking, blood, bruises, hurt/comfort, apologies, wound cleaning, nap time, cowboyfriends, prior kidnapping, mentions of beating, idiots in love, sunburn

Stuck in the Middle 7

It had been a few hours and Percy had taken a much needed nap under the watchful eye of his sweetheart, Ritz. Of course he had managed to fall asleep in the bandit's lap, his arms wrapped around Ritz's neck and his head on the blonde's shoulder. 

Ritz enjoyed feeling the gentle rise and fall of Percy's body with each breath he took, the bandit did notice a slight shudder with each breath, the ranch hand must've been hit in the chest at some point. Ritz gently combed his fingers through the blood caked brown hair, slowly working tangles and knots out. 

Those few hours were up as Ritz gave his sweetheart a soft shake until he finally awoke. The bandit pressed a butterfly kiss to Percy's lips as he tirefly grumbled about having to wake up. 

"Have a nice rest, lover boy?" Ritz mumbled and kissed him again, "we should probably get ya all cleaned up, hmm?" 

Percy reluctantly nodded and stayed where he was, arms embracing the love of his life. 

"As much as it pains me, ya have to get off my lap." Ritz said with a light laugh and Percy gave an annoyed sigh before climbing off his boyfriend and crossing his arms. The ranch hand watched as his beloved got up and went over to his saddle that sat propped against a rock, he brought a canteen and one of his spare bandanas back over before he sat down again. 

Ritz poured some water onto the bandana and gently began to wipe and scrub blood from his lover's face, he tried to be as careful as he could but there were so many bruises. He saw Percy wince and a few involuntary whimpers came from the boy's throat as Ritz cleaned off the blood and flaking skin from his sunburnt cheeks. 

"I'm sorry Ritz… I think I bit off a lil more than I could chew. But, I knew you'd come back for me, buttercup." 

"Don't apologize, loverboy. If this was anyone's fault, it was mine. Ya suffered cuz of my mistakes." 

Percy let out a quiet hiss of pain as Ritz cleaned the blood from his nose that looked like it was from a bad nosebleed. The bandit gently dabbed the cool damp cloth against Percy's burnt cheeks, he watched the boy nearly sigh in relief. 

"I coulda kicked their asses if they hadn't been cowards and tied my arms behind me. I did manage to beat up that Archie guy." Percy said confidently.

"Sweetheart, ah'm sure ya could've and by the looks of it, ya beat the shit outta him." Ritz said with a laugh as he could finally see the freckles he loved so dearly, peek through the bruises after the blood that had been covering them was wiped away. 

Percy couldn't help but stare at his beloved, the determined look on his face and the clear line on his cheeks from where his hat shaded his face and where the sun hit it. He couldn't help but admire the beautiful whiskey brown eyes that darted around looking for the next scrape or patch of dried blood to clean. Now that he looked closer he could see dark circles under those maple eyes that indicated Ritz had barely slept these past few days, if at all. 

"Have you slept at all, buttercup?" 

"Not yet, ya were my top priority and besides, ah can sleep later." Ritz mumbled and leaned forward to press another kiss to Percy's chapped lips. 

"Ritz, I know you told me not to apologize, but I at least want to thank you for coming back for me…" Percy muttered hesitantly.

"Darling ah would come back for ya everyone, even if the stars above decided ta fall, ah will always come back for ya." Ritz said gently and cupped Percy's face in his hand, being mindful of the purple bruises. 

The ranch hand smiled and wrapped his arms around Ritz's neck and pressed a love soaked kiss to his boyfriend's lips. Ritz wrapped his arms around his beloved's waist and they fell backwards onto the dusty ground. Just loving the way that their bodies seemed to fit perfectly into each other's embrace. The world could wait while their time together seemed to make time slow, they were finally back together and intended to stay that way. 

[dazed-universe]

Now the pain is my pleasure...*

DO NOT REPOST. THE PIECE BELOW WAS WRITTEN BY ME.

"Have you ever been in handcuffs?"

"Yes."

~ handcuffed Harry, blowjob, riding, pain kink, submissive Harry, desperate Harry, slight overstimulation ~

~

Nights out with Harry in London aren't beaten by much except the proposition to try something new in the bedroom. As we're approaching six months together, there's still so much we have to learn, including those dirty little secrets. Instead of sitting in the, albeit comfortable, silence upon returning from dinner with a few of his friends, I turn the tv on as Fifty Shades of Grey pops up on the screen. "Come on, we are not watching this. Let's go to bed," Harry pipes up from behind the sofa and I look up at him, smirking. "Why not?"

He shoots me a questioning look, raising his eyebrows, closing his eyes and sighing before taking a seat next to me, lifting my legs over his lap. "Fine. Continue, let's watch," He sits, staring at the tv, waiting for me to unmute it as I stare at him, amused at how easily he gives in. A smile creeps onto his face as he feels my eyes on him, letting out a light chuckle. "You know, I thought you wanted to watch this, not me," I roll my eyes at him and turn the volume up, resting my head on his shoulder.

As we approach the scene of Christian tying Anna's wrists together, he clears his throat and shifts in his seat diverting his focus to his hands that are resting over my ankles. "My feet are more interesting than BDSM? That's a first," I tease his awkwardness before pausing the film and turning to face him, kneeling and towering above his slouching frame. "Now, why don't you tell me what's going through that pretty, little head of yours?" He swallows the lump in his throat before biting his lip and looking up at me as I twirl a piece of his fallen hair.

"Nothing. Nothing important, anyway," He says with a quiet voice as I lean down, pressing a kiss to his neck as he exhales shakily, trailing my lips just below his ear. "You're always important, now tell me," I whisper, wrapping my arm around the back of his neck and moving to sit across his lap. Harry's lip wobbles as our eyes meet, almost immediately looking away again. "I just realized, we've never really had, you know," He pauses,  swallowing again as I hum, urging him to continue. "You know.. The kinks conversation. What we're into," He finally says.

I look down towards our laps to hide the smirk on my face, recomposing myself and looking at him through my eyelashes. "Let's go to bed," I repeat his earlier request, standing from my seat on top of him, grabbing his hand in the process and gently pulling him up with me. He turns the tv off and follows, his fingers loosely laced with mine as I lead him up the stairs. We get into his room and begin undressing to get into bed as he clears his throat. "Maybe we could, um, try something," His voice softly rattles through the room.

I turn to look at him as his shirt falls over my frame, my underwear just shy of the hem. "What do you have in mind?" I question him as I sit on the edge of the bed. He looks towards a drawer in the bedside table, which, come to think of it, I'd never seen opened. Wrapping his hand around the handle, he looks over at me with softened eyes. "You can say no," He reassures me, lifting the strange tension in the air slightly. He pulls the drawer open before looping something around his finger, the sound of clanging metal following.

My eyebrows raise as he lifts up two pairs of handcuffs, swinging them on one finger in the air whilst giving me a tight-lipped smile. "This is what you were so nervous about? Wanting to put me in handcuffs?" I asked, trying to not laugh. Humour leaving my mind as his head shakes. "I want you to put me in handcuffs." He says, no louder than a heavy breath. Goosebumps covering my body as the words hit me, images of Harry cuffed to the bed, moaning beneath me run throughout my head. "Oh," Being all I can say.

He waits for something else to leave my lips, his brows furrowing as he realizes there's nothing more to come. "Is that "Oh" like "Oh my god, no way" or like," his chest begins to rise and fall quickly. "Oh my god, please," coming out more moan-like than the previous suggestion. I lick my lips before tugging the bottom one between my teeth. "That one," I move from the edge of the bed to standing in front of him, taking the cold accessories from his hand. "Lie down," I tell him as his eyes widen, flicking between mine and the cuffs.

He scoots back into the middle of the bed, resting his head against the pillows and his eyes pour into mine with wild anticipation. I return to my position of being seated across his lap as his hands grab onto my thighs, a newly developed instinct. Harry lets out a deep breath as he removes them and looks into my eyes before placing them above his head, resting them against the four-poster bed frame. I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning at the purely obscene sight in front of me as his lips part. "Cuff me," he breathes out.

I lean over him, placing one cuff around his wrist and then to the, thankfully, sturdy, wooden frame before repeating it to his other one. His fists clench within the freezing cold metal as I move off of his lap and kneel between his legs instead. His head lifts off of the pillows to watch me, his pushed back fringe falling over his face and resting just above his eyes. I hook my fingers below the band of his boxers as his hips rise off the bed, already so needy for my touch.

I look up into his hungry eyes as I start pulling them down, his cock already leaking against his stomach as he lets out a quiet moan at the feeling of final freedom. I throw his boxers to the floor, along with the rest of his clothes from this evening and press a kiss to his hip as I hear the metal rattle a little, my eyes darting up to see his closed and his lips pouted. I run my hands up his thighs, my fingers lightly tracing over his tiger and California tattoos as his face screws up.

I wrap my hand around him as his lips part into a broken moan and his head rests against his arm, refusing to fall back into the pillow to watch me play with him and his emotions. I start moving slowly, watching him get overwhelmed already, the entire situation being more than arousing and his hair beginning to stick to his forehead as his body gets covered in a sheer layer of sweat and desperation. I lean my head down, my eyes watching his face with every move I make, waiting for his attention to return to me instead of the thoughts, or lack thereof, inside his head.

His eyes shoot open as he feels my tongue dance around his tip and he chokes out something between a moan and a sob. "Please. Please give me more. I want your mouth, please," he rambles out as his wrist tugs against one of the cuffs. "It's a shame you can't push my head down to get what you want, isn't it?" I ask as I kiss the base of his cock and his legs thrash around the bed. "Please," He whispers, looking at me with teary eyes, red, bitten lips and need written all over his face.

I look up at him in awe, shocked by this completely submissive side of Harry as his eyes droop and he breathes rapidly before a smirk takes over my face. "Well, if you're that desperate..." I say before wrapping my lips around his tip and moving my hand back around the rest. He lets out a whine and bites into his bicep, stopping any more from filling the room. I take him further into my mouth until my nose is pressed against his stomach and his eyes are closed as tightly as they could possibly be.

I suck him off until a string of broken moans leaves his spit-soaked lips along with hitching breaths and squeaks. "I'm gonna cum. Please don't stop. Please," I pull my mouth off and rest his tip against my tongue, replacing it with my hand once more and bringing him to the first orgasm of the night. His chin is flush against his chest as his mouth lays open, producing noises so soft and beautiful, they could pass as music themselves. His body stills as he releases into my mouth, finishing with a breathy chuckle and a moan of relief before looking down at me with a soft smile and glassy eyes.

"Thank you, for trying this with me," He mumbles out as I make my way back up the bed to straddle him. "But you can uncuff me now, let's do it as normal," I could tell by the way his cock twitches when I put my hands on his stomach and his wrists pull against the cuffs that he's more than happy to stay locked to the bed. "But, we're having so much fun..." I say with a smirk as I grind my hips down onto his naked body. His eyes close briefly before his head leans back, looking up at his now cuff-dented wrists and moaning.

He lifts it back up, resting against his arm and looking at me for a second, letting out a chuckle and biting his lip as he looks my body up and down. "You always do look the sexiest in my shirts, messy hair, on top. Leave it on," He says as my hands start playing with the hem, getting ready to ride him. I get off of the bed to remove my underwear, taking in the view before me and then returning to sit across his waist.  

He grinds his hips into mine at the contact of our skin, his head turning further into his arm out of frustration to not be able to pull me closer to him, messing his sweaty fringe up as he does so. I lean down to kiss him for the first time since we started this, his teeth immediately tugging at my bottom lip followed by a swipe of his tongue. "Please fuck me," His whispers against them, the metal rattling again in the background. "I need you, please. I can't do this anymore. I'm so hard, please fuck me," He wasn't lying.

I sit back against his raised legs, his thighs pushing against my back as his body adjusts to the pressure that me moving put on his cock. "You got it, loverboy," I say before raising my hips and finally wrapping my hand around his cock to line him up with my entrance and slowly sinking down as his wrists pull on the handcuffs, his head slamming back into the pillows, choked up. I press my hands to his stomach to support myself before moving my hips, riding him faster than I normally would, knowing he won't last.

He looks down at me through his eyelashes with a big, blissed-out grin on his face as his hands twist in the cuffs, applying pressure to where they've marked his wrists. "Hurts so good," he quietly moans out as his hips lift up, working against mine. Harry keeps fucking into me the best he can, given the circumstances, as we both approach our orgasms, getting off on each other's desperation. He positions his head against his bicep for the last time, just to watch the finale, his fringe stuck to his forehead whilst the rest of it is thrown around in slight, messy curls.

"I'm so close, please. Just like that," He moans into his arm, his eyes scrunching closed as I roll my hips harder into his, feeling him as deep as he can be. I lean forward, wrapping my arms under his and pressing my head to his shoulder before bouncing myself on his cock as he rests his head against mine. "I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he moans into my hair and that's all it takes. I gently bite down into his neck which, of course, sets him off. His hands grab hold of the bed frame as he releases into me, moaning my name.

We lay there for a minute, listening to the occasional metal clang and shaky breath before I lift myself off of him and press a kiss to his lips. I pick the key up from the bedside table and undo the handcuffs, a little gasp leaving my mouth when I see how red and dented his wrists are but he places his hands upon my cheeks and pulls me in for a kiss. "I'm fine, it's fine. I promise, I loved it," he tells me with a shy smile and rolling us over to sleep for the night.

[ehenyeoongg]

Summer Fling

Pairing: Lee Jeno x reader Word count: 1.8k

Synopsis: Was it really him, or someone who looked like him? You didn’t care, you just needed answers.

“J-Jeno?” you looked at the boy and his gang. He simply gave you a look, but the gaze in his eyes was so cold you shivered. No, it couldn’t be him. The Jeno you knew was a nice, kind and smiley boy. He definitely wasn’t a-

“Y/N” he called out your name and you turned. Was it really him? Did he really remember you?

“You dropped this.” He picked your ID card off the floor and held it out to you. You took it from him and walked away quickly as he turned towards the boys. However, even as you walked away, his eyes stayed on you. He did remember you, but it wasn’t the right time yet. 

“What happened?” Mina saw your disheveled state as you walked into your dorm room. Your face was pale and you had pinched yourself until your forearm became red.

“I think I just saw a ghost, Mina.” you pulled the curtains away to look at the boy who leaned against the blue Audi and joked around with his friends. His eyes formed crescents as he smiled and laughed.  You were reminded of the laughter you had fallen in love with that summer.

“Oh, those boys? They’re big trouble, Y/N. Especially the boy with the white hair. His name is Lee Jeno, and he’s the biggest troublemaker out of all 7 of them, Or was it Zhong Chenle? Either way, don’t go near them. I heard they come from rich families and can basically do whatever they want here.” You fiddled with the necklace around your neck. You hadn’t taken it off since he left, hoping that when he came back and saw it, saw you, he wouldn’t forget. But, he did.

“The cutest and nicest and sweetest out of all of them is Huang Renjun. He’s so adorable and..” her voice trailed off as you wandered deeper into your memories.

Jeno. Lee Je No. The name itself made you feel things you’ve never felt before, all because of that night two years ago. But why was he back in your life now? What did the gods above want? For you to suffer again? For you to feel pain again? You’re over him. ‘He was just a summer fling..’ you reminded yourself.

You pulled away from the window and buried yourself deep in your schoolwork. You still had many assignments to complete and it wasn’t the time for you to be distracted.

---

“Watch out!” You looked up and saw a basketball flying your way. Someone ran in front of you and caught it.

“Thank you.” You looked up. It was Jeno. And his crescent eye smile. You  smiled then walked away as fast as you could.

For the next few days however, it seemed like the gods had planned for Jeno to be your prince charming. Every time you were in trouble, he was always there to save you.

“Yah, I think Lee Jeno has a thing for you. He’s been staring at you since we entered.” you didn’t bother looking up in the boy’s direction as you sat down with your tray of food.

“He’s coming over! Y/N he’s coming over!” Mina hit your arm repeatedly, and you couldn’t eat properly. You gave her a glare and she immediately stopped. You had been skipping mealtimes because of your assignments and she was the one who insisted on having lunch together but also wouldn’t let you eat.

“Hi.” It was Jeno’s voice. You didn’t look up at him and focused on your meal.

“Y/N he’s talking to you.” you nodded then looked up.

“Is there anything you need from me Mr. Lee?” It took you all the courage within you to not run away from him. You had to face him. It was now or never..

“I..” he looked to Mina and she ran off, grinning excitedly as she took Jeno’s seat next to Renjun. They already had everything planned, and your best friend ditched you for a guy. Great.

“What is it?” you had your arms crossed. He looked at you, then looked around. All the attention of the students in the cafeteria were on the both of you.

“If you have nothing to say,” you got up to leave and he did the same. He held your thin wrist tightly but you pulled away from his grip.

“What do you-” he carried you over his shoulder and walked out of the cafeteria. He placed you down in his car and locked the doors.

“Let me out, Jeno. I have no time to be playing games with you.” He sat in the driver’s side. 

He reached across you and you slapped his hand away. “Seatbelt.” he reminded you. As soon as you were buckled up, he drove out of school. You didn’t say a word during the ride, and stared out the window blankly. He stopped the car by the beach and got off. You followed him and sat on the beach beside him.

“What do you want?” He turned and pressed his lips against yours. You tried to push him away, but when your arms landed on his firm biceps, you knew you were going to lose. You let him kiss you and when he was done, your lips were swollen. You slapped him. 

“You disappeared for two years after that night, and you come back and do nice things and kiss me. Who the fuck do you think I am, Lee Jeno?! Your toy? I thought you died, Jeno. I thought you were gone since you didn’t even give me a call.”

“No, Y/N, I.. Let me explain first.” You waited for him to explain. You at least needed to know why he left you without saying goodbye. 

“I didn’t want to drag you into my affairs. That night when I left you alone, I felt so guilty. I wanted to bring you along, I wanted you to be with me but I didn’t want to drag you into my sick and twisted world.” he paused. 

“I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you. I was just.. scared.” he admitted, “ I was scared I would lose you like I lost my parents that night.” he stared at the waves, and the sky as he told you his side of the story. 

“A rival gang was after them, and the goods they were transporting. That night, I received a call and rushed back. I had no time to say goodbye because there were so many things happening all at once and my mind was just.. a mess.” he held his face in his hands and you didn’t know what to do. 

At first, you were worried because you thought he had died. And since the day you met him again, you were angry with him, thinking he had left you that night because he found someone else, someone better and totally forgot you. You reached a hand out and pat his back. How lonely had he been all these years? Even though he had the boys with him, was he able to share all his feelings and thoughts with them? 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to show myself to you.. I should’ve explained everything and come back to you as soon as I could-” You tapped his shoulder and he looked up. You planted a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. I understand now. It would’ve been better if you explained everything to me, but you must’ve been busy..” he was still in shock and hadn’t recovered from the kiss. His hand traveled up to his cheek and he held it there. His eyes were bright again and his lips broke into a smile that spread from ear to ear. 

“Thank you.” he pulled you into his lap and hugged you tight. 

“Yah, yah, I just forgave you. I didn’t say anything about hugging me.” You turned. He ignored you and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel his abs and chest muscles through his thin shirt as he pressed your body into his.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this? How many times I imagined you being in my arms and hugging me. I dreamed of you every night, and now you’re finally right here.”

“Okay loverboy, we need to get back to school. I have a class soon.” he whined and hugged you tighter.

“Tell me the name of your teachers.” he mumbled.

“Why, what are you gonna do? Threaten them to give me prefect attendance or their families would be in danger?” 

“N-No..” he waved behind him at the men, telling them to abort the plan.

“Jeno..” you warned him.

“Fine. I won’t threaten anybody. Let’s get back to school..” he got up and helped you up. As he was driving, his fingers drummed against the steering wheel and that’s when you saw the ring on his finger.

“Jeno?” he hummed and turned to you, “What’s this?” you pointed at the finger on his hand. 

“Oh..” he took the ring off and gave it to you. Your name was engraved on the ring.

“There were many girls trying to hit on me, but as soon as they saw the ring and your name, they backed off.. Do you have a secret that you’re not telling me?” 

“Hmm? What secret?” You gave it back and avoided his gaze.

“I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.” you got off the car and walked towards the cafeteria with your fingers intertwined.

“Wait,” you stopped Jeno, “you have a ring. Where’s mine?”

“Isn’t someone a little too eager to call herself Mrs. Lee?” He gave you a look and you rolled your eyes.

“I want the ring, not your last name.Wait, did you give it to some other girl? Lee Jeno, I swear if I find out you have another girl, I’ll-” he interrupted you with a kiss. 

“Silly girl, you’re the only one in my heart.” He let go of you and you walked to Mina. Renjun looked a little uncomfortable with his fangirl by his side, and you dragged her off to get to class. 

You sat in your seat and she took her place beside you. 

“So, what happened?” you sighed. So much had happened in the past one hour, and you didn’t know what to-

“HE PROPOSED!?” huh? You looked at her then at your hand. On your left ring finger, there was a silver ring with his name engraved on it. How did that get there?

“No, this is..” she squealed, and caught the attention of the other students walking in, one of which was Jeno. He took the seat beside you and held your hand.

“Did you like my present?” 

! image credits to owner !

[thinkyoureholy]

Stow Away [14]

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Pairing : Kim Jongdae / [Fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Pirate! AU

Words : 2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Pt 14. Pt 15.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I slammed the door of the cabin harshly as I walked out, grumbling to myself as I made my way across the dock. Just as I was about to get off this ship and away from Jongdae I heard a thud coming from the other side of the dock. I froze, listening for the sound again but I heard nothing. After awhile I shrugged, going to continue leaving the boat when I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders from behind. I was turned around forcefully and just when I started struggling against the hold around me the point of a sword pressed down on my neck. I looked up to see that an unfamiliar man was now standing  in front of me, a smirk on his face.

“Scream and I’ll drag loverboy out here and gut him right in front of you.” He said, that smirk turning into a grin.

“Who the hell are you?” I said, keeping my voice low, my eyes darting from his to the door of the cabin.

He gave me a devilish smile, lowering his sword and leaned in close to me, “I’m sure you’ve heard about me from Jongdae but let me introduce myself...I’m Byungho. It a pleasure to meet a stunning young lady like yourself,” He said that last bit in a voice barely above a whisper, his hand brushing against my waist ever so softly.

I recoiled from his touch, disgusted at the chuckle that left his lips, “So you’re the bastard that kidnapped Jongdae’s brother.”

“I wouldn’t say kidnapped...just holding him for collateral. I gotta make sure Jongdae gets me my gold.”

I fought against the man holding me, wanting nothing more than to punch that smirk off this asshole’s face. He’s the one that’s been making Jongdae’s life a living hell and for what? Some lousy fucking gold. I’ll kill this bastard myself...if only I could get to him.

“Ah ah ah, calm down now, love. Wouldn’t want Jongdae to hear all the commotion out here now would you?” He said, his eyes shining brightly with ill intent, “I actually came to talk with the boy but it might be better if I make a deal with you instead, he hasn’t been very cooperative lately.”

“What the fuck do you want?”

He smirked at my words, reaching out to grab my chin with his index finger and thumb, “I want my gold. I don’t care how you get it but...I’m willing to make a deal with you. Come with me and I’ll forget about all this, I’ll return the annoying brat to his older brother. I’ll forget about all the gold I asked from Jongdae if you come and be mine.”

I grit my teeth, “Why the hell would you forget about all that gold for me?”

He smirked once more but this smirk sent a chill down my spine, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach when he stepped closer to me. His thumb slipped underneath the him of my shirt as he pressed our bodies close. 

He leaned down so his lips were close to my ear, whispering softly, “It’d hurt him more than anything to not only lose you...but lose you to me. It would absolutely break him.”

“Why--why would you go so far?”

“Because it’s fun.”

I froze, unable to move as he pulled my hair to the side, placing a kiss on the side of my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, waiting for him to pull away but he took his sweet time. I let out a breath of relief when I heard a door slam open, Byungho taking a step away from me, that smirk still on his face. I felt my knees grow weak as he started speaking with Jongdae, their words not processing in my mind. I could only think of one thing and one thing only, Byungho’s offer. If I did as he asked Jongdae would have his brother back and he wouldn’t have to deal with Byungho anymore but if I went when Byungho...then that means my life is practically over...what do I do?

-

I let out a grunt as I swung my sword down with more force than before, Jay stumbling back. He looked at me with wide eyes, shocked at my strength. Truth be told I was only running on fumes but I was so damn angry. I was angry that I had to be placed in the middle of all this. I already had my own problems to deal with but now I gotta carry Jongdae’s as well? I’m more angry at the fact that I can’t simply ignore it. I had grown so unbelievably attached to him that I’m actually considering giving myself up for him. I wanted to clear my name, catch Hera’s killer, I wanted to live for fuck’s sake but now it seems like I won’t be able to do that, no matter what I chose to do.

“This isn’t fair...why can’t I just live in peace?!” I yelled out, hearing Jongdae’s crew murmuring to each other at my words.

With a shout I swung again, tears obstructing my vision, Jay barely managing to dodge the sword at the last second.

“H-Hey take it easy there, little dove. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were actually trying to kill me…” Jay said, putting out a hand in front of him to get me to stop but I wasn’t done yet.

Without thinking I swung my sword once more but before it could make contact I felt a strong hand grip my hand tightly. I looked up to see that it was Jongdae, a frown on his face. He pried the sword out of my hands before grabbing my forearm, dragging me over to his cabin.

“Alright. I’ve been patient about this and I think I’ve given you enough time and space to come tell me on your own but I see you’re not going to do that. So, tell me what the hell Byungho did do to you? Tell me what he said and did before I walked out onto the dock.” Jongdae said sternly, leaning his back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything-”

“Like hell he didn’t! Stop giving me that bullshit and fucking tell me!” He cut me off, his voice booming.

I kept my mouth shut, not wanting him to know. I was already kicking at myself for the decision I’ve made but I know there’s nothing I or anyone can say to change my mind, besides I have a plan up my sleeve but if he knew he’d try to stop me before I even had the chance to go through with it. I turned away from him, closing myself off from him for the hundredth time in just these last few days.

“Oh no you don’t.” He all but growled out, grabbing onto my forearm tightly and spun me around to face him, “You’re not going to shut me out, not again.”

I looked into his eyes defiantly. It’s easier this way, this way he’ll be able to let me go. Once I deal with Byungho I can disappear from his life. He’d have his brother and I’d have my freedom, it’s what we really want isn’t it?

You know you’ll be miserable if you do that.

It’s the only thing I can do. What’s stopping others from hurting me to get to Jongdae? He’s weak with me by his side.

Is he really?

If he wasn’t Byungho would’ve never suggested it, I was never meant to be here in the first place. It’d be better if I just leave after going through with my plan, clearing my name was now out of the question.

Who’s to say your plan will actually work? Do you really think you’ll get out alive?

My shoulders sagged at my own words, it was a slim chance that I’d even get to take a single step out once I’ve done what I have planned.

If by some miracle you succeed...you know you can’t live without him.

I clenched my hands at my sides at the thought floating around in my head, tears blurring my vision. No, I wouldn’t be able to live without him...but I’ll have to manage if it means the both of us can live. 

“Dove...please...don’t--don’t keep me in the dark any longer. It’s killing me to see you like this.” Jongdae said, his voice breaking.

I felt my heart plummet to the pit of my stomach at the look in his eyes. He was practically begging me to open up to him but it was better this way. With a heavy heart I placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away. I lowered my gaze, staring at the floorboards underneath our feet.

“I’m sorry.”

-

-Jongdae’s P.O.V-

I leaned my back against the railing, a frown on my face as I saw her training with Uri now, Jay taking a break.

“What’s going on with the little dove? She hasn’t stopped for the passed few days. Did you two fight or something?” Jay asked, out of breath.

“No. She’s been this way since that encounter with Byungho.” I said, not taking my eyes off of her.

I couldn’t get the look she wore a couple of days ago out of my head. Just as she had let out those two small words I saw nothing but pure terror flash in her eyes before she left me alone in the cabin. I wanted to stop her from leaving but I couldn’t bring myself to actually do it. I wanted to know what Byungho did to her so I could help but she refused to tell me, now hours away from the capital I couldn’t help but think she has a plan that I wouldn’t like up her sleeve.

“Hey maybe she’s just trying to get stronger to fight off the royal guard…” Jay said, trying to encourage me but it sounded like he didn’t even believe his own words.

“It doesn’t seem like they’re the problem anymore.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Just what are you hiding from me?

-

I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head, watching as she did the same. She’s been quiet for the passed few hours, not uttering a word to anyone. I wanted to help carry the heavy burden that she carried around on her shoulder but she wouldn’t even let me get close.

“Alright, stay relatively close to each other and be on the lookout for the royal guard. You all know what to do if you see one right?”

My men let out a chorus of ‘yes sir’ each of them walking off the ship. I looked back over to Y/N, seeing a faraway look in her eyes. I shared a glance with Uri and Jay, receiving a nod from them. I had asked them to stay by her side, trusting them to protect her if anything went wrong. I would’ve loved to do it myself but she didn’t seem to be around me much lately. I sighed heavily, placing a hand on the hilt of my sword under my cloak, turning away from them to leave the ship but before I could I felt a hand grab my arm tightly. Just as I turned to see who it was I felt soft and delicate lips press against my own. I relaxed immediately under her touch, kissing her back. This kiss was so different compared to the ones we had shared prior but it didn’t feel right. I could feel a hint of sadness behind her kiss, frowning when she pulled back, her eyes glazed over with tears.

“I love you.”

And with that she left, Uri and Jay hot on her heels. I stood there a bit stunned, my lips still burning from the kiss but my mind was elsewhere. I felt a pain spread across my chest, a lump forming in my throat.

Why--Why did that sound like a goodbye?

[thedeviltohisangel]

Follow You Through The Dark//1//We Speak By Saying Nothing At All

Musician AU; Michael Langdon is hellbent on achieving his dream of being a musician. Grace Hall is hellbent on surviving her life in the mold her parents have set for her. What happens when the two cross paths on a sidewalk in New York City?

Smut Warning

masterlist in bio!

I want to write this one in the non-chronological way that I have written other ones so if you guys have one shot ideas for the two of them, let me know!

“Lie down, baby,” he whispered against her cheek as her breath began to slowly even out. Now that she was calm, she felt like a tool. Especially compared to Michael. He was in his usual nighttime attire of sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and no shirt.

“No! God, Michael, aren’t you even going to try and fight for me?” Abruptly, the air around them shifted. Her arms pushed outwards from where they had been wrapped around herself and the thrust was enough for Michael to stumble back slightly. “I just threw away everything for you!”

“Your parents will forgive you and take you back in a heartbeat. Their little fucking princess.” Now Michael was getting angry. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight. He had made the decision to not go to her parents charity gala for her own benefit. Anywhere he went with her was accompanied by stares and whispers. Did you see that boy? He’s wearing an earring. Isn’t his hair a bit shaggy for an event like this? Do you think she had to help him with the tie? It was agonizing to know the woman he loved was spoken of so poorly simply because of his presence. “I took a step back for you! If you stopped being a brat long enough to realize-”

“So now you’ve reduced yourself to name calling? Where’s the poetic songwriter now?” she huffed. They stood in silence, holding each other’s gaze for a moment, before she gathered her red skirt in her arms and began to march back towards her car. Stupid Michael Langdon. It was as though every time she interacted with him, he was trying to make her regret the day she had stumbled upon him on the sidewalk. Constantly infuriating is how she would describe him. One minute he was writing love songs and making her see stars and having her believe that life in the back of his van could be everything she ever wanted and more. He had made her believe in love and perhaps that was the worst mistake she made.

“Grace! Stop!” She tried to ignore him. She really did, kept on marching towards her car and the escape from this cycle that it offered. “Don’t...don’t fucking run away from us like that.” He sounded exasperated when he finally reached her.

“You’re the one who has been running, Michael. Every time I take a step forward in your life, you take a step back from mine. It’s breaking my heart.”

“I hear everything those people say about me, about you. It makes me sick to think that people view you like they do just because you showed up to an event with me on your arm. I don’t want that life for you. I thought by stepping away, I was protecting you.”

“You’re not. You’re hurting me.” She took a step closer to him and his hands came to cup her cheeks. “You told me to fuck them all. That the boundaries of that life were too small for a mind like mine. Remember?” Michael smiled. He had a habit of ranting and waxing poetics whenever he was around her. He couldn’t help it. She was his muse.

“Of course I remember. I wrote a song about you that night.”

“Well, now I’m finally following your advice. I’m going to do what makes me happy. Not what makes my parents happy. And, for starters, being with you is what makes me happiest.” Grace didn’t divulge her feelings often or easily. It was hard to when the man you loved and were in a relationship with did so. Michael expressed himself so clearly and eloquently through his music. She could never find the words to explain how much she loved him in the same ways he did for her. It was daunting to try and compare.

“I’m happiest when I’m with you, too.” There were so many words that Michael could use to describe the way he felt when he was with Grace; at peace, alive, elated, but he knew how trying to express himself in that way shut her down. And she was being open and vulnerable with him. He didn’t want her to close that door quite yet.

“Then let’s just focus on being happy together. We can compromise on things like galas and dive bar tours and where to sleep at night. I love you, Michael, I’m in love with you.” He dropped his hands to intertwine them with hers, bringing one to his lips for a kiss.

“Is anything ever that simple with us, Grace?” Michael wishes his mind would let him just embrace this new take on life that she had. That he could just profess his love for her and hold her forever and just live his life in a bubble of her.

“No. But that is precisely what makes it so worth fighting for. I’m not saying it won’t be hard some days but...that last piece of me that was holding onto the life my parents want me to lead, is gone. Shattered the moment I went tonight and felt like half of me was missing. You’re the other half. My other half.” For so long their worlds had kept them apart. Hers was filled with pearls and fake smiles and expectations that could almost never be reached. His was wandering and wondering and writing. They weren’t supposed to work together. Hell, they weren’t even have supposed to cross paths let alone fall in love.

“You love me, Grace Hall?” It was partially teasing, Michael knew she loved him, but he wasn’t used to her saying it. She had been raised to keep her emotions to herself, never let anyone in. It was frustrating for someone like him who found joy and solace in putting his thoughts and feelings out there for the world to see. He had never wanted to ask her to say it more. Never wanted to force her to express herself in a way that wasn’t natural.

“I know I have trouble expressing how I feel to you and I know you deserve better than a girl who-”

“I barely deserve you,” he whispered. “You’re everything to me. The past year, that’s all I’ve been trying to prove. We’ve both made some mistakes along the way. But that’s what a real relationship is. Real love isn’t perfect. It’s jagged and cuts and stings and-” He pulled away while holding his breath.

“Go write your song, loverboy,” she chuckled as he quickly jogged back to his van so he could grab his notebook and a pen.

“Just a couple lines, baby, I promise I’ll be quick.” Grace walked over to where he was sitting on the back bumper, listening to him hum as he tapped a pen against his lips and jotted down some words. “I’ve been having trouble writing recently. I’ll write a verse here and there or a chorus but have nothing to put around it. Then you show up here in your Victoria Beckham gown and it’s like I see the world in color again.” That urged another scribble onto the page.

“It’s kind of daunting to be someone’s muse, you know. What if one day I stop inspiring you?” She sometimes worried that the basis of their relationship was her ability to make the music come out of him. There was no way of knowing if that would happen forever.

“You, my dear Grace, are constantly growing and changing. As any human being does. The love of ours that I write a song about today could be a completely different love when we go to bed tomorrow. Our foot never steps into the same river twice. I think love is the same way.” Another scribble.

“You ease my worries like you were meant to,” she whispered.

“That’s a good line, baby, thank you.”

“Well, give me writing credit if you use it,” she giggled as she crawled in next to him. She peered over his shoulder cautiously. Sometimes he was adamant that she not read anything he had written. That she wait until is was ready to be sung and performed. Michael always wanted her to get the full experience. He also felt that, when he sang, he could really portray the emotions behind the lyrics in a way that just having them on the page couldn’t. “I missed you tonight.” It had been the whole reason that she had sped her way to the beach where his van was currently parked. Had left the gala in a flurry of her red skirt and the gasps of others around her. Grace had always had a reputation of being the perfect daughter. She had been Valedictorian of her boarding school, graduated from an Ivy and was working her way up the corporate ladder in order to inherit her father’s company one day. Running out of galas was not in line with her usual behavior.

“If we mean everything we said tonight, you won’t have to miss me ever again.”

“You mean that?” It felt like they were professing their love for each other all over again. It was a re-commitment of sorts. Up until this point, something invisible had been holding each of them back from truly giving their all to the passion and chemistry and love that was between them. Maybe tonight, all of that could change.

“I would never say something to you that I didn’t mean, Grace. You deserve honesty and validity. I respect you and love you too much to ever speak behind a veil.” She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder, Michael turning his head so he could capture her lips with his own. “I pledge my heart to you,” he whispered as he nose nuzzled against hers. It was the most sacred thing he could ever give her. And he did so willingly. Joyfully.

“I’ll take good care of it,” she smile, “as long as you promise to take good care of mine.”

“Promise.” He returned her smile before he leaned in for another kiss. She held him firmly by the back of his head and slipped her tongue between his lips. Michael groaned in response, it had been a few nights since he had last seen her and his body was letting him know that it had been too long. Gently, he placed his notebook on the side before leaning over her until her back hit the mattress.

“Aren’t you going to the shut the door?” she mumbled against his lips. They chuckled as he quickly removed himself from her to shut the side door to the van, attaching his lips back to hers like there hadn’t even been a pause. His hand fisted the waist of her dress and began to pull up with the aim of exposing more of her skin to him. Once it had gathered around her hips, his hand firmly wrapped around her thigh and pushed it to the right so he could settle in between her legs. Her own arms reveled in the bare skin of his back was already open and available to her. They moved steadily down his back to slip past the waistband of his sweatpants and grab at the supple flesh of his bottom. He moaned against her jaw and the grip on her thighs tightened as lust began to cloud his thoughts.

“Roll over,” he whispered. Grace did as instructed, Michael’s calloused fingers finding the zipper to her gown easily and sliding it down. His lips, tongue and teeth followed it’s path and marked the skin that became exposed to him. A trail of hickey’s was left in his wake. They line up along her spine like a hidden message of his love for her. “Lift your hips.” Once she did so, he was able to shimmy the dress down and toss it to the side.

“Michael! That’s expensive! You can’t just-” A quick slap to her backside quieted her cries of protest.

“The only sounds I wanna hear coming out of you are your pretty little moans, got it?” Grace nodded. “Good. Now let me look at your pretty little pussy.” She went up to her hands and knees so her glistening core was perfectly level with Michael. Many had referred to him as a maestro when he sat behind the piano or began to move his fingers against the strings of his guitar. Grace thinks it’d be more fitting to call him a maestro when he had a wet pussy waiting for him to play it. Michael joked once that the sounds she made whenever his head was between her legs were the melody to his life. He licked slowly, savoring the taste of her. Once her essence hit his tongue it was like a tablet of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in his body was lit on fire and not a thought entered his mind that wasn’t concerned with pleasing her.

“Up a little bit...to the right,” she whispered from where she had rested her cheek against his pillow so she could watch him work between her legs. There was a particular sweet spot on the side of her clit she was hoping he was working towards. He knew exactly where it was, didn’t need her to tell him. It was sweet, he thought, that she thought he didn’t know or that she was trying to ignore the fact that he was hellbent on teasing her.

“I know where it is.” Grace hadn’t known when she first met him but Michael had been somewhat famous within his circle not only for his love songs but for his sexual prowess and knowledge. She had been told that, more than once, he could be found at a dive bar with a cigarette between two fingers having an in depth conversation with a fellow patron about the beauties of pleasing a woman properly. There was always something elusive and intricate about Michael. Grace thinks she’s going to spend the rest of her life trying to figure him out. “Tell me how this harmony sounds.” His lips enclosed around her precious pearl and he began to hum. What a fucker.

“Fuck that feels good.” Her hips began to rock back against his lips, his hands tightening their grip around her thighs as a signal to stop. Be patient. He made sure to keep his eyes locked on hers. Michael thoroughly enjoyed watching her expressions as he feasted on her like he had just come stumbling out of the desert, her wetness an oasis. It was like a fountain of youth. He was constantly in search of the inspiration that flowed from her but found so much thrill in the chase. “I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum.” He knew she was close as her pussy began to flutter around his mouth and her juices flowed faster. Pressing his lips and tongue in deeper, he played her harder and faster until she was falling apart like a symphony before his eyes. Finally, he came up for air and watched Grace absorb and relax into the after effects of the orgasm he had given her.

“You sleepy, baby?”

“Not sleepy enough to let your cock throb in your pants like that.” The bulge straining the fabric of his sweats was too tantalizing to ignore. “Let’s consummate our new beginning,” she teased as he leaned over to peck her lips. Michael quickly ridded himself of his sweatpants and lined up with her entrance.

“To new beginnings and them lasting forever.” And with his toast, he fit inside her perfectly. The last piece of the puzzle put into place.

----

Grace woke up a few hours later to find that the man she had gone to bed with was no longer next to her. And considering she couldn’t see him anywhere else in the small van, she assumed he must’ve left to go sit on the beach. She rummaged through his chest of clothes, tossing on a pair of his boxers and a shirt before she opened to the door to go and join him.

“I thought you were quitting that?” He was sat atop a picnic table smoking a cigarette with his notebook in my lap.

“Snuff it out for me?” He handed her the object which she took and brought to the disposal unit by the garbage.

“We can’t have nearly enough of our forever if you keep smoking,” she pointed out as she sat behind him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders.

“I’ll try harder,” he promised.

“Is the song you’re writing gonna be good enough to warrant me waking up alone in a cold bed?” she teased as she kissed the soft spot behind his ear.

“I think it’ll be for you and you only so…” Sometimes Michael kept his most personal of songs to himself. The vulnerability reflected in them was not for just anyone to hear and interpret. The ones about Grace, the most personal and vulnerable of them all, were sometimes shared with just her. When he couldn’t find the words to tell her how he felt, he would write them down and sing them to her. Through a song was how he had first told her he loved her.

“Is it selfish that those are the ones I love the most?”

“No. I think love is a deeply personal thing. The way I feel about you and how I wish to communicate that isn’t for anyone else to be a part of if we don’t want them to..”

“I like that. Thank you. For writing such beautiful things about me and making me feel as though I deserve them.” Her cheek rested flat against his back and she took a deep breath of the salty air coming off the water. “I love you, Michael Langdon. I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you, Grace Hall, for as long as the music I write is in the universe, our love will live on.”

Tags:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @aveiangdon @ticklish-leafy-plant @and-shes-not-even-pretty

[roemyheart]

Don’t Lose Me

A/N: For all you intellectuals out there who appreciate the masterpiece that is Ross McCall playing Joe Liebgott. No disrespect to the original heroes. 

I can’t hear much above the ringing in my ears and my vision is remarkably blurry, but I know he’s the face leaning over me, repeating my name like it’s the only combination of letters he’s ever known. “For fuck’s sake, where’s the jeep?” Joe barks, leaning over me, impossibly protective. I wonder why the whereabouts of the jeep matter because all I really care about is that he’s next to me. Of course, when I try to tell him this, sharp pain burns through my chest and I wheeze, vision darkening. “Take it easy, damn it.” He growls. “Okay.” I croak. “You have to hold on. Stay with me, don’t lose me.” He bites out. I can’t feel my feet very much, but I can feel the way he squeezes my hand like he’s the one who needs a lifeline. A wave of panic seizes me, and I cough, fire ricocheting in my lungs and up my throat. I squeeze his hand back as hard as I can. Each word is a wave of agony and by the time I finish speaking, a ragged sob erupts from my throat. “Don’t lose me, you asshole! You found me, and I-I can’t breathe when you’re not here.” My head is throbbing with each thought but when he leans down and says my name, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, I feel nothing but his warm breath and soft lips, if only for just a heartbeat. And then, because the blood loss and pain finally get to me, nothing.

When I come to, I keep my eyes shut for a few moments, listening to the startling lack of chaos around me. I can’t remember to last time I woke up to anything but screams, gunshots, and splintering wood. And, occasionally, the clank of plastic and metal as Perconte struggles to brush his teeth in the dark haze of a foxhole. I open my eyes slowly and it takes a bit for my vision to focus. The ceiling above me is tarnished and cracked, shadows dancing against what must have been pristine white paint before the war invaded this home. The candle flames are dim, painting the disheveled room in soft light. When I attempt a deep breath, I hiss in pain, slowly sitting up. I glanced down at my uniform. It was fresh. The utter lack of blood and dirt was almost startling. I peeled up the bottom of my shirt to survey the damage. I barely remember the bullet breaking skin, but the tight bandages wrapped around my abdomen and the twinge of sharp pain with each breath did a good job of reminding me that I’d been shot. I practically jolt with a flash of adrenaline. “Joe.” I whisper, heart thumping. My movements are slow and cautious, but when I stand up and don’t collapse to the ground in agony, I chance a few steps to the doorway. The floorboards groan loudly, as if in more pain than the wounded girl walking across them. I peek out into the dark hallway, met with the murmur of conversation ricocheting off the worn walls, but I can’t see much. “Wanna Hershey’s bar?” I yelp in surprise and whip around to find myself face to face with Luz. “Do you want me dead?” I ask him, voice hoarse. He frowns, sticking the candy in my pocket. “No, absolutely not. Who’d be around to keep Liebgott from punching everyone in the throat and taking all the chocolate?” In spite of myself, I smile sheepishly. “Where’s he at anyways?” “Loverboy has been sulking in the kitchen all night. I’ll help you down there.” Luz looped his arm through mine and gently guided me into the kitchen. The moment we walk through the entrance, we’re met with a chorus of warm greetings. I’m so engrossed in counting all the guys that I don’t notice Joe take several long strides towards me until my nose is practically against his chest. I blink up at him with wide eyes, feeling my cheeks warm. “Hi.” “Hey.” He responds quietly, looking down at me with those twinkling dark eyes. There’s a moment of nothing before he wraps his arms around me and exhales into my hair. He smells like mint and smoke and, somehow, home. I can’t help but lean into his embrace. He pulls away to look at me again, studying my features like he wants to burn them into his memory. “Jesus fucking Christ, please don’t ever do that to me again. Fuck.” He breathes, pulling me into another hug. His arms, lanky and toned, hold me so gently that I can’t even feel the pain buzzing against my ribs. He tends to have that effect on me – my own personal pain killer. All I can really do is smile up at him bashfully because he’s gazing down at me like I’m the best thing he’s known since his first damn chocolate bar. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He nearly coos, grabbing a bowl of grub and some water, guiding the small of my back out of the kitchen. From somewhere in the background, Webster quotes Shakespeare and Luz wants to trade Doc morphine for his fancy Belgian chocolate. When we make it back to the room, Joe stands directly in front of me, pleasantly invading my bubble. He cups my face tenderly, stroking my cheeks with the pad of his thumb. In the way his lips curl upwards into that sweet smile, the one that makes my knees wobbly, there is both sadness and adoration. His voice drops, low and gravelly. “Well, I’m fucked.” “Why’s that?” I nearly squeak in response. “It’s because of you. Because I love you.”   “Fuck, Joe. I love you, too.” I warble, burying my face in his chest. “I can’t lose you.” He murmurs, lips brushing up against my ear as he rubs my back soothingly. Joe pulls away to look down at me and, again, it’s like the whole universe is reflected back in those deep, dark eyes. He hooks his pinky finger around mine. “Promise me that we will always find each other. In every battle, in every city, in every lifetime.” I nod, melting, burning hot and slow like the way he kisses me afterwards – and many nights following.

[romellura-juniberry]

Flower Fields

[Allura’s pov]

I’m watching the paladins as they sit around on a plaid blanket that Romelle had brought with her. I was a little bit away from them, watching as they spoke to one another. I could hear Coran making some joke about how weird the food looked. The paladins all disagreed and said that its what real food looked like. I chuckled and looked around the grass and flowers surrounding me.

I wondered why, out of all places, this planet inhabited the altean flowers that I grew up around. I had picked some of the flowers and was weaving them together in a small crown. I looked away from the paladins for a moment and blocked out the noise, letting the wind blow past me. Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes. I can see Lotor and cringe, opening my eyes. I sigh and look up to see Romelle moving away from the paladins and towards me.

The mice are helping me braid the rest of the flowers together. They all each have their own flower crowns that I made out of small blue flowers. Once they pull the twine together they pull it away from me and carry it up my arm and place it gently on my head. I laugh when they jump from my head to my hands. I look up and see Romelle coming closer.

Past her, I see Lance looking over at Keith while Keith laughs with Pidge. I smile at him and shake my head. He’s so fixated on being with me when he looks at him like that…. Romelle reaches my spot, breathless. She’s smiling down at me as she places her hands on her knees.

“Are you okay?” I ask looking at her. Her hair is wisping in the wind. She laughs lightly and moves around me before falling back next to me, spreading out over the hill. Her stomach slightly shows from her shirt pulling up. I look away abruptly and look back down at the paladins. The space mice look at me and I can hear their thoughts but ignore them. They all move towards the grass, leaving us to fend for themselves.

“I’m great! I was actually wondering if you were…” She says as she looks up at the clouds. I glance at her before looking up at the sky myself.

“I think I am… I just-” I sigh and fall back next to her. The clouds move past slowly, “I think I’m in shock.” I finally say.

Romelle nods, “I think anyone would be. You thought you were giving up your life for the universe,” She turns to me but I avoid her eyes.

“Not just the universe, but everyone. My family, my legacy, it was all to that point. My purpose in this world was to save the universe.” I say and I finally turn to her fully, “I don’t know how to move on with my life.”

Romelle smiles at me before sitting up, “You have the paladins, Coran, the Altean’s,” She grabs my hand, “And you have me.”

I could feel my face heat up, but I didn’t say anything. I squeezed her hand lightly. Unlike Lotor’s hands, hers were small and soft. It made me smile down at them.

“I do have all of those things,” I look up into her eyes. They were the softest color. The purple reflected the sun’s light, making her seem much brighter.

“Allura…” Romelle saying my name felt right. It as real and even though the whisper lingered, I knew then that I knew what I wanted. I hold my breath as I sit up, “Look at that cloud, behind you!” She suddenly said. I blinked for a moment, waking myself up from my daze and turned to look at it.

“Doesn’t it look like Kosmo?” She said, her breath brushing next to my ear. I caught my breath and nodded.

I turned to face her once more, and she’s giving me this soft look. She looks away and down towards the Paladins. “Romelle, why did you come up here?” I asked softly, looking at her. She smiles.

“Look over there,” she says. I glance away and see Keith talking to lance, his smile is gentle and consistent. I smile and shake my head, those boys are too oblivious for their own good. Lance glances up at us suddenly and smiles. He nods, as if knowing what’s going through my mind.

“It’s obvious that they love each other, but they can’t get the guts to ask the other out. They might miss their shot,” I look over at her as she speaks, “I don’t want to miss mine.” She leans in and her hand is guiding me to meet her lips.

I feel a smile start to overcome my face and I kiss her back, relieved. Maybe Lance knew this was going to happen. Maybe he wasn’t telling me, but Romelle that it was okay. She pulls away and presses her forehead to my own, the flower crown I had made before she had come up here. She pulled it off and set it atop of her own head, moving away from me completely.

“Come on, we should go down to the others. They’re waiting for us so that we can all eat together!” She stands and takes my hand, pulling me up to stand with her.

As we stumble down the hill, she keeps ahold of my hand. The paladins watch us come down and I see Shiro smiling at us. He’s already standing, making his way over towards us. The rest follow after him, and I wonder why I had felt so lost before. I look past all of them and see Lotor. He’s not actually there, I know that. But I feel at peace. Maybe he did love me. I look at Romelle next to me as Kosmo licks her and Pidge talks with her and I smile. But she loves me too. I look at Lance and He’s smiling at me, “Congratulations princess, looks like you really did find love.” I laugh and shake my head.

“Well Loverboy, don’t you think you’re next?” I ask as I jerk my head over at Keith as he asks Romelle how she felt. He smiled at the ground and shook his head.

“There’s nothing like a good old fashioned slow burn!” He grins.

“If you don’t hurry it up. Keith is gonna find a boyfriend for himself,” Shiro said looking between us. Lance rubbed his arm and looked over at Keith.

“I just need a little time, okay?” He asked.

I nod and pull him into a hug, “You’ll get your chance, Lance. Don’t rush it.”

He moves away and I turn to get Romelle but Hunk is hugging her, tell her that he’s proud of her and that he’s okay with whatever decision we make. I chuckle and shake my head. The flower crown flies off her head and I watch it float away. I suddenly feel the Mice on my shoulders. They watch the flower crown that we made together drift away, and I have a feeling they want to make another one. I chuckle and move through the paladins, “Let's eat!”

[irndad]

never-b.b.

a/n: THIS IS SO SAD I’M SHAMING MYSELF this is for @violentlybarnes 3k challenge. My prompt was “I never want to see you again.”

summary: Bucky has a nightmare that you find a file of everything he’s done (you already know everything in the waking world) and tell him to get out, and that he’s a monster. when he wakes, she informs him otherwise.

 wc: 1.1k

The apartment is warm, welcoming as always. They’d panted it red and gold and orange, colors that reminded them of warmth and daybreak, and he was always happy to come home to this. To come home to her.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says, dropping his things on the couch and gathering her in his arms from behind, her standing by the stove in a sweater and some jeans.

Normally, she melted into him. Fell into his embrace, maybe would’ve spun around and gotten on her tip-toes to kiss him, and he would’ve smiled at her like he’d been the best gift of his life.

Now, though, she stiffens, Something in him drops, cold running through his veins and a bite at his throat, clawing up through his chest and something in his mind hissing: she knows you’re a monster.

“Is everything okay?” He tries not to let his voice shake, but ever since he met her she’s never flinched at his touch. She’s always leaned into him. Always looked at him like he looks at her, with the same amount of love and affection.

She doesn’t reply, walks away from the shut-off stove, doesn’t meet his gaze as she goes to sit on their couch.

The catch in his throat gets larger.

“Doll, talk to me. Is everything okay?” He lowers his voice to what he hopes is calming sits a measure away from her on the couch, even though she told him yesterday, yesterday, that him being near always helped. Today seemed different.

“Shield came by today.” Her voice is frigid.

Why does it feel like the coldest thing in the world? Like being put under the ice all over again? She keeps him warm and now she’s so cold, so away from him.

The silence acts like a question.

“Dropped off your file.” Her lip curves in disgust and he cracks open, like he’s been punched because those lips kiss him, that face is the one that offers him pretty smiles and sits with him through panic attacks and now she’s looking at him like the thought of touching him disgusts her.

“Did you read-“ he says dumbly, because of course she did, of course she did.

“The Winter Soldier. In my home. In my bed. God, I can’t even look at you!”

Everything they’ve built together, how much he loved her- it all crumbled underneath her scrutinizing gaze. He knew it would kill him when she came to this, when she realized she kept an assassin, a murderer, a monster in her bed. It was inevitable, and the downfall feels like hell.

“You know I’m not that man anymore-“ he tries, grasping at straws to keep her. Anything to get that light back, because the coldness and scorn in her expression is splitting him open.

“I want you out.” She says, and he’s never heard her like this before and he wants to touch her, to reach out for her and he didn’t know when they stood up or when he’d started crying but they both had happened. He’s sobbing in front of the woman he loves, the woman who sees him as a monster.

It was only a matter of time.

“I never want to see you again. Get out. I’ll send Steve for your things, god fucking knows what he sees in you, but he’ll do it-“

“Doll please, you’re my home, I can’t- you can’t- please I don’t have anyone else-“ The nickname sounds empty in his voice but he’s clinging to something, maybe if he says the right thing she could go back to loving him, this would be a blip, he couldn’t give her up, not yet, he wasn’t ready-

“You don’t have anyone at all, Barnes.”

                             ___________________________________

He wakes in her arms, soft hushing in his ear, light pressure of her holding him tight, his head settled by her chest, her heartbeat erratic in apparent worry for him.

“It’s okay, honey, I’ve got you. You’re here, it’s 2018 and you’re with me, in a shitty Brooklyn apartment and I love you so much, Buck.”

Counting his breaths, like she’s taught him to do, he catches up to his reality. He’s in his apartment. Safe. In the arms of the woman who loves him.

He could weep, the safety and home of being in her arms, of meeting her gaze and her gentle eyes having nothing but redemption. He could spend forever chasing that and he’s got it. She never left.

“Flashback?” She asks, after 5 or 50 minutes. He’s not sure. Time’s funny when he’s like that. She grounds him to the place, and that has a funny effect on that.

“Nightmare.” His voice sounds rough. He holds her tighter.

“I got you. Wanna tell me what it was about?”

A spark snapped up his spine like firecrackers and he swallowed, half embarrassed for his subconscious doubting her, and half sure if he told her it would yield the same results.

But she’s looking at him, open and earnest and loving and he can’t deny her anything like this. He’s worried about her hurting him, even as she holds him after his mind wrecks havoc on him.

“You, uh,” she tilts her head at the idea of her being in the nightmare, “Told me to leave. That you wanted me gone, never wanted to see me again. Couldn’t see what Stevie saw in me. Guess that meant you didn’t see anything either.”

Her face crumbles into sympathy and pain, his pain is hers, she’d told him once. When he felt it, she felt it, so that’s why they work through it together.

Dipping her head to his, she presses a lingering kiss to his forehead, the a chaste one to his lips. They feel like home and salvation and forgiveness wrapped in one.

“I could never tell you to go.”

“I don’t think I could leave,” he mutters back.

“Good.” She tightens her hold on him. “If you left-“ he hears tears in her voice. God, that hurts. He expects a joke now, like who would wash the dishes, who would watch TV with her? “If you left, who would keep me safe? Who would keep me loved? I need you, tell your subconscious to fuck off. Stop trying to break us up.”

He smiles, then kisses her own. He’s never going to get tired of that.

“Please don’t go anywhere. Or think I want you to. I want you here. Remember that week you left on that mission?”

He nods, into the crook of her neck. He didn’t know when they’d moved but it happened.

“Couldn’t sleep, missed you too much. Made your favorite dishes instead of mine so I could feel like you were there.”

His heart twists and they don’t say much for the rest of the night but he sleeps, and he’s not scared, because she’s going to be there when he wakes up.

He doesn’t have any more nightmares.

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[sassysweetcollegegirls]

I’ll Love you No Matter What pt3

Breakfast was Lance’s second favorite meal of the day. Second because it required him to get up and there were never any Lucky Charm’s or just straight pancakes anymore. Hunk always did his absolute best to make breakfast as close to the stuff at home as possible. Of course it was always a little off but Lance still appreciated it for all it was worth. 

The door slid open and Lance takes a solid wiff of what Lance thought was waffle and eggy type. 

“HUNK MY MAN. What is on the menu today?” Lance walked toward the kitchen which was literally Hunks Natural habit. Hunk stood in his usual attire his apron tied around his waist a whisk in hand a look of pure concentration on his face.

“Take one more step McClain and you will be served last.” Hunk threatened drawing the whisk up and pointing at him a yellowish goop dripping from the end.

“Woah buddy what’s with the whisk of death?” Lance wasn’t used to Hunk being so well threatening in the morning usually he was humming and swaying offering Lance the opportunity to taste his creations.

Hunk rubbed his face and set the whisk in the bowl. “I was up all morning.” His body turning soft exhausted

“Hunk your up every morning.” Lance grabbed his friends shoulders and started rubbing large circles

“I was up earlier Lance. SOMEONE on this ship was pounding on doors and running and Lions it was a mess.” Hunk waived off Lances touch and went back to his cooking,” Some of us sleep ya know.”

“Maybe we can get the Gremlin to look at the feed from the cameras she never sle—-Aaaaahhhh!” As if brought on by the pure image of her in Lances brain Pidge showed up,” CAN YOU STOP DOING THAT?” Lance shrieked putting a hand to his heart and feigning fainting.

“You realize I have no idea what your talking about right?” She yawned and rover who was snuggled into her arms blipped awkwardly. Her hair was a casual disarray and she still wore the sweats she had been put to bed in,” Also I do sleep. You all just haven’t figured out the cycles yet.”

“Thus you are a Gremlin.” Lance grumbled and she slugged him lightly letting rover go. He began to flutter busily about the room as Hunk began tidying up the kitchen, “ what am I supposed to be doing?”

“Checking the feed for who was waking Hunk up with all the yelling and running in the halls this morning. “ Lance clarified stretching he had managed to dress. Pidge was always the last of them to dress. Shiro had stopped commenting on it a long time ago and Lance had just become so accustomed to her ducking out to get dressed after breakfast it was routine now.

Hunk was busy and he looked focused so he pushed Pidge out to the dining portion of the kitchen and gathered plates on his way.

“Did you hear the yelling and running?” Lance asked?

“Me? No. I was sleeping.” Pidge said stretching her belly showing a little the skin smooth. Lance looked toward the ceiling giving her a moment of privacy. Lance had sisters back home and they had drilled into him time and time again how important the female body was. How precious it was and that you only shared it with those precious or those of the same sex.

“Give me some plates we don’t want Hunk to see us slacking. He’s in a mood.” Pidge said taking the plates from Lances chest and making a neat stack. “ I’ll do the left you do the right.”

“ I’ll bet mines prettier than yours.”

“Your dreaming again Loverboy.”

“I WILL OWN THIS PLATE SETTING COMPETITION GUNDERSON.”

“YOUR ON.”

“I swear to god if either of you break my tableware your getting fed last.” Hunk grumbled as he brought spoons and forks out to the table and rover floated out behind him with a napkin.

The room became a flurry of limbs and plates and napkins and happy sounds that meant fun. Lance was folding corners and dancing, and Pidge was trying to make the perfect angles. While hunk slid steaming plates full of food in the center rolling his eyes at the antics and slapping trying fingers out of the way.

Coran was the first to join them. He had his tablet pressed to his nose reading an article in something Lance figured was probably was Altean. He almost tripped over Rover but Lance caught him with one arm his body was heavier than he expected.

“Coran what do you eat?” Lance teased setting the older man upright.

“I eat my normal squares plus Grandpa Wembeldons additional recommended portions!! If we’re going to complain about size my dear boy aren’t you a string?” He responded quickly straighting and fixing his coat.

“I am a Normal growing boy for your information!” Lance huffed turning.

The door opened and Allura stepped in. She was radiant beautiful and glowing in ways that reminded Lance of his sisters and of his mother. His heart puttered a little thinking about Allura and his family meeting (so maybe that crush wasn’t so over yet) and Pidge snickered next to him reminding him to be human.

“Good Morning Princess!” Lance choked out as she smiled and pressed her hand to Corans shoulder.

“Coran, now is not the time to be critiquing the physique of our Paladins. Have you found anything of importance?”

“As it so happens no. I was looking for brain fuel hopping it would get the old gears cranking.” Coran offered pointing to Hunks beautiful breakfast array.

“Good Morning Lonce. Pidge I hope you slept well? “ Allura greets as everyone begins taking seats at the table trying to relax and Hunk comes out to sit.

“I for one did not sleep this morning. Was anyone else woken up by the running and screaming? Or was that just me?” Hunk heaps his plate full of egg type things and passes the plate to Coran who calmly takes a scoop and passes the plate to Allura who seem to be sharing a look.

Lance watches but doesn’t comment and instead looks to where Keith usually sits across from him,” Hey where’s Keith? He never misses breakfast.” He comments calmly. His mind goes to Keith last night how he had laughed and smiled and had been gentle and carefree and it had felt so much like home it made Lance ache long after he left and he wanted to go back to Keith. Even if it was just to sit on the floor and poke his face while he slept. (That’s fucking weird Lance friends don’t do shit like that).

“Or Shiro!” Pidge remarks looking at his designated place next to her. He seemed to be the only one capable of making her actually eat anything and not start a food fight.

“I’m right here Pidge, Lance please tell me she has at least scooped something onto the plate.” Shiro said he was standing in the door his arms crossed his eyes open a smile on his face and he looked like he was gunna head down the stairs but something was stopping him.

“Have you seen Keith?” Lance asked and he realized he couldn’t help but be hopeful. He wanted to know if he’d washed the face mask off properly or if he’d left green goo in his hair.

Shiro smiles and looked behind him and whispered something and then he looked at the group,” okay let’s do this. Everyone close their eyes.”

Everyone let out a collective groan but obeyed and Lance heard Shiro shuffle quickly into his place next to Pidge. “When I say three everyone open okay?”

“What the hell is this Shiro?” Pidge whispers angrily

“One”

“I’m confused is this someone’s birthday, whose birthday is it?” Hunks asking almost panicked

“Two”

“I’m so excited! There won’t just be two of us anymore!!!” Allura sang and there was a groan from somewhere near the door.

“Three”

Lance is slow to open because he is looking at Shiro first because this was all Shiro’s idea of course. Shiro of course has this wide smile plastered on his face and he’s holding Pidge by the shoulders. Pidge’s eyes are bigger than blues noes and Lance turns to look at the door because the room has wrapped itself in silence.

Standing in the door is probably the most beautiful girl Lance has ever seen. Her hair is jet black and laid gently down her back, she has this porcelain skin that makes him think of dolls. She’s lean but she’s fit Lance doesn’t think she would have any problem lifting against him in a contest. She looks so uncomfortable though in a short yellow dress that’s scooped showing just a bit of her clevage and a lot of legs and (are those Keith’s boots?) and violet eyes that dart around the room uncertain. She tries to hide in her bangs, Lance wants to plead with her to come out and not hide the pretty sharp angles of her face. She’s rubbing her arms like she’s cold and half crossed half not like she’s not sure where to put them her hands are tiny (are those Keith’s gloves?) and Lance wants to draw them into his and blow hot air onto them and warm them up.

“Keith it’s alright it’s just breakfast.” Shiro states as he pushes Pidge into a normal not so shocked kind of state.

“THATS KEITH?!?” Pidge shouts her hands slamming on the table and standing

“KEITH?!?” Hunk drops his fork and looks at Coran for confirmation.

Lance is oblivious he’s stuck on the cherry lips and the violet of her eyes. Would a girl like that even look at a string bean like him?

Allura is smiling,” Keith your stunning now please can you just come sit down for breakfast? And we will explain everything. Yes?”

Then she starts moving her gates a little clumsy like she’s never walked in a dress before and Lance has this urge to rush forward and carry her down the two short steps and too the table. He looks around panicked as to where she’s going to sit. The only open spot is Keith’s (Keith won’t care this one time right?) And he rushes out of his chair to go pull out hers carefully his face red and everyone looks at him funny including her.

But damned Lance if he isn’t chivalrous. Keith takes a moment to stop and look at him. Her hair is so silky up close Lance holds his breath as she slides into the chair in front of him and then he pushes her in to the table stairing at the crown of her head biting his cheek. He carefully seats himself across from her again and everyone looks at him,” What?” Lance asks.

No one says anything and Keith’s cheeks turn pinker and Hunk chokes on a bite of his breakfast at the site. He’d at least tried to return to normality. Everyone waits and Shiro clears his throat,” as you can see Keith has joined us for breakfast....” Shiro is going on about how some kind of tattoo and blah blah blah and Lance is just oblivious.

He’s watching Keith pick apart egg type things with a fork. She has one hand cupped around her cheek and the other on the fork and she’s aggressive like they’ve done a sin and they need to pay for it. Her eyes are sad like they’ve been forgotten somewhere and placed in her perfect little head just for Lance to find. Then they turn to Lance and Lance swallows.

“If a turtle doesn’t have a shell is he homeless or naked?” Lance manages his mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty but those eyes look right into his.

“Lance what the hell are you talking about?” Keith asks, and her voice is like liquid honey that Lance never knew he needed. It’s so smooth and it just drips with sarcasm and so many things Lance can’t even wrap his mind around it hurts.

He leans over to Pidge,” How does she know my name?” he asks but his eyes never leave Keith who hasn’t stopped looking at him.

“Oh. my. god. Lance No. “ Pidge smacks her palm to her face and then wraps her arm around his neck and points at Keith.

“You know that guy you mock?”

“You mean Keith?”

“Mullet, grumpy, throws knives and flies the Red Lion?”

“Don’t tell me this is his sister?”

Pidge smacks him upside the head and points at Keith again,” That’s Him.”

There is silence at the table and Lance looks at the Violet eyed angel across the table and then he peeks under the table. No one stops him. They just let him for a moment look at the legs so slender and perfect and not hairy and not encased in super tight jeans but still wearing Keith’s boots.

He returns tableside to look at Keith who is sitting with the cute little pout across her lips an eyebrow raised in question.

“What?” Lance says and Keith rolls her eyes in the most attractive way possible.

“I told you this was fucking stupid.” The honey voice claims looking to Shiro who is trying not to lose his cool.

“Lonce were you not paying attention?” Allura asked and Lance looks toward her and for some reason she doesn’t look so pretty next to Keith. She’s pretty but she makes him think of moms and soap and laundry and he’s not sure what that means yet.

“I was...”

“No he wasn’t” the honey voice of Keith again. “He was to busy staring. I TOLD YOU TO LET ME STAY IN SHIROS HOODIE BUT NO. I had to wear this stupid...” She grips at the dress angrily as if she can tear it but then she realizes that people are watching and she just sulks deeper into the chair.

“Take my sweatshirt.” Lance offers before he’s even sure what the hell hes doing. He’s got the green thing off and he’s offering it to Keith across the table.

Keith looks at it and snatches it angrily and throws it on zipping it all the way up. She pulls the hood up and then looks at Lance crossing her arms.

“Lance you do realize that is Keith right?” Pidge asks him turning lance to face her.

“Keith is a She now?”

“Yes” everyone at the table goes at once. Everyone but Keith who looks like she would rather hide in a hole than be at this discussion.

Lance takes a moment to think about the girl across from him. The salty behavior the hardcore additidude and the eyes the gloves the boots, the outbursts. It all makes sense. It doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth though ,” About that turtle.” 

“ Lance.” Shiro’s warning voice is present but Keith is chuckling and she’s covering her mouth with one of his sleeves. And it’s the most beautiful thing Lance has ever heard. 

Everyone has stopped to watch Keith now who seems to be trapped in fits of laughter that don’t really make sense in the seriousness of all this. “ Freaking Lance is, asking me about Turtles after we tell him I lost my penis.” 

“This is serious business Keith. IS he NAKED or HOMELESS?” 

Theres a collective groan around the table and Keith just continues laughing and It’s a beautiful thing. It’s airy and soft and full of shit that makes Lance feel like he’s not even real. 

“You two are officially the worst at dealing with news.” Hunk groaned pushing his now empty plate toward the center.  

“I want everyone to agree that this isn’t going to move the team backwards. Until we find a solution Keith will be stuck like this. So Keith, do you prefer us to call you by female or male pronouns?” Shiro asked trying to calm everyone again and find a solution. 

Keith suddenly in the spotlight for a reason other than sharing it with Lance began blushing. “ I feel like me. I know I have boobs and stuff but I feel Like Keith...So can we just do Keith? and whatever works from there?”  There was a softness to the tone of her voice that everyone had to lean forward for. 

“Fair enough.” Pidge claimed swiping her plate and Shiro’s despite the dirty look Shiro passed her. 

“Everyone meet on the training deck in Half an hour.” Allura Sang walking backwards out the door. 

“ LANCE it’s your turn to help with clean up.” Hunk said which meant he wanted to talk to Lance. 

“Keith, I wanna go to your closet and see if I can help you find comfortable stuff to wear. You look like your miserable in that.” Pidge said as she went to Keith and Keith looked grateful from his place in Lance’s hood the ends of his hair poking out cutely. 

“You'd do that for me?” Keith asked the honey voice soft. 

“Yeah I’ll show you how to fix clothes so they fit you.”  And then the two of them were gone leaving Hunk and Lance and Shiro who seemed to be looking at Lance puzzled. 

“What?” Lance asked

Shiro just smiled and rubbed the back of his head before heading outside. Hunk handed Lance a pile of plates,” Dude the staring was weird.” Hunk murmured 

“Do you know how pretty Keith is?” Lance hissed,” I looked at Allura and I thought about Laundry soap! Who does that?” 

“Uhhh- You?” 

“Right but Keith,his skin is like smooth and it looks soft, do you think it’s soft Hunk?” 

“ Dude this is gunna be hard for you isn’t it?” 

“Definatly.” 

“I’m gunna need the first aid kit?” 

“For sure.” 

Hunk just sighs and Lance hands him another dish to be magically washed by the machine that washes dishes one by one. He’s got his head in the clouds thinking about violet eyes and long black hair in a bright yellow dress. 

[smhtaehyung]

don't look 》 chapter 6/9

cr.

• chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

• Pairing 》 taehyung x reader

• Genre 》 angst, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol abuse, domestic violence, saxophonist!tae, jazzsinger!reader

• Word count 》3.8k

• chapter 7 》he’s got bruises of his own too.

It's a horrible feeling. Feeling of getting punched even when you're not actually being punched. You could already feel Ji Sung's cold fists hitting you. You couldn't really process what was going on because you got used to being next to Taehyung all the time for those few days. Chul Soo left you by the door of your apartment and watched you get inside. You closed the door after you and walked towards the living room, scared but expecting to see Ji Sung. Dimmed lights reflecting onto his face was the first thing you saw. He was sitting on his chair, slowly standing up when he saw you. You stood by the couch, your hand instinctively searching for Taehyung's hand that wasn't there.

"Your lover-boy is quite impulsive." Ji Sung said, pressing a cold glass of whiskey against his cheek. He walked over to you, staying tall in front of your fragile and scaredy body. "Ji Sung, don't drag him into this. He's just a friend-" You lied as he cut you off, slapping your right cheek. Sudden sting flashed through your cheek as you cupped it with your hand, trying not to cry. "He didn't seem like he was friend." He said, getting up in your face. "Does he fuck you that good that you thought you could leave me like that?" He whispered. The way he was disrespecting you, made you snap. For the first time in years, you stood tall, making a mistake. But it felt good, it felt so good that you realised why Taehyung did it. You slapped Ji Sung back. He chuckled. "Ah, he's such a bad influence on you." He said and in half a second you felt your whole body clench. He had punched you in the nose, almost breaking it. You froze in shock, feeling the blood cover your upper lip, dripping down to your chin. You tried to move away but he gripped your wrists as you winced in pain. He wiped your lips and forced his lips onto yours, gripping you. Your mouth was shut in a tight line. "You're mine." He gripped you. "I'm not your fucking property." You said and tried to push him but he was much stronger than you.

The thought of Ji Sung touching your lips last made your heart come apart. Now you didn't feel Taehyung on your body at all. You couldn't feel his fingertips pressed against your skin or his soft lips pressed against yours. You couldn't feel his firm hands gently hold your hips. Your body lacked contact with Taehyung. Your body forgot the taste of him and his touch, leaving you alone, naked in the darkness, feeling only the cold stare coming from Ji Sung and his painful grips.

He squeezed your neck, pushing you up against the wall. "You are mine." He said it again, emphasizing his possesivity. "Why do you do this, Ji Sung? What are you gaining from all this?" You asked him, tears streaming down your cheeks as he squeezed your neck. "YOU RUINED ME!" He yelled at you. "What the fuck are you talking about?" You questioned, trying to push away his hands from your neck. "Why did you have to love me? I told you I was fucked up! Now it's all fucking complicated and I can't let you leave." He said and your mind started questioning what he was trying to say. "YOU WERE THE ONLY FUCKING THING LEFT WHEN SHE DIED, AND YOU KEEP EXPECTING I'M GONNA LET GO THE ONLY THING THAT'S LEFT FROM MY OLD LIFE?!" He raised his voice, mentioning his adoption guardian, your mother. "You think beating the fuck out of me is going to bring back your old life? YOU MESSED UP JI SUNG. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO FUCKED YOUR LIFE UP BY MESSING WITH THE MAFIA. NOT ME. NOT HER." You raised your voice too, getting up in his face. For the first time in years, Ji Sung showed emotions. Vulnerable emotions. Something that to your mind, brought back the frustrated and anxious teen you remember. But only a few seconds later, he was back at being posessive and provocating man you knew for years.

"I loved you. And you hurt me. And you keep hurting me. You know Ji Sung, HOW DID I FEEL WHEN SHE DIED? INSTEAD OF HUGS YOU BEAT ME RIGHT AFTER SHE WAS BURIED-" You raised your voice until he started squeezing your neck tighter. "Stop yelling, you whore." After few long seconds he removed his hand accidentaly dragging it down your torso as you felt to the floor, coughing. Few buttons of your blouse ripped apart because of his hand. He stared at you, and your chest, that showed your laced bra in Taehyung's favourite colour, purple. That was something Taehyung was supposed to see. That was supposed to be a surprise for him. All you could think about was how differently things would've turned out tonight if Ji Sung hadn't found you. By now you'd be in Taehyung's arms as he'd probably slowly rocked his hips into you, telling you how pretty you look. But that wasn't how things turned out.

Ji Sung pulled you up against his chest as he held you by your waist, pressing you against him. "I'm gonna give you an option." He spoke in a provocating manner. "Because you look so good right now, you can use that pretty body of yours to pleasure me or I can beat you for what your lover boy did, and for running away, of course. Huh, what do you say?" He asked as tears rolled down your cheeks.

You weren't in a dilemma. You'd rather take hundred hits than to give yourself to him. Your body and mind belonged to Taehyung. And you wouldn't change that for nothing. Fear crept up on you, but you stood tall. You'd rather feel Ji Sung's hands beat you than feel his hands on your hips.

You turned around to face him. "I'd rather fucking die than to sleep with you." You said and pushed him. He grabbed you by your arm, yelling in anger. He twisted your wrist. "After I start beating you up, you're gonna beg for my cock, whore." He said and started kicking your legs. You fell to the floor and felt him crush you with his weight. He threw punches to your face, busting your lip. You felt like your cheekbone was breaking under his hard fists. He dragged you on the floor, pulling your hair. He slammed you against the wall, your back hitting it. You winced in pain, you couldn't run away. All you could think about was Taehyung. How he must be worrying so much right now. What if he is so upset he's punching walls? Or what if he is so upset he would shut it all inside. What if he was calling you right now when you can't pick up. What if he did something bad to himself or others? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ji Sung crushing your weight again, by sitting on you. He grabbed you by your neck as you barely kept your eyes open, feeling like they were swelling.

"This is for you slapping me." He said and threw a punch to your left cheekbone. You groaned in pain. You started coughing up. "And this is for your loverboy." He said and threw two fast punches up the tip of your nose, causing it to bleed again. "And also this." He said and dragged you up, hitting your stomach. He was hitting with all his strength, causing you to cough up blood from your busted lip. You curled your body towards him, not being able to handle the pain. He threw few more fast punches to your stomach and you fell to the floor, hitting your knees. Your cheek was pressed against the hard surface of the floor as you again started coughing with all the remains of strength you carried within you. You felt yourself passing out from all the exhaustion your body went through. From the corner of your barely opened eye, you saw Ji Sung walk to the cabinet, wiping his blood covered hands. You felt yourself fall into a dark hole that had no perception of time or place, and you felt yourself dying once again. Of course this 'dying' wasn't physical, but your body gave up too when you fell asleep, not being able to remember the happy moments you spent with Taehyung. You were naked in the dark once again, this time lying on the floor.

•••

The aching pain woke you up the next morning. Or so you thought. You looked around and noticed you were laying on the couch. You tried to move but you winced loudly, feeling pain pierce through your entire body. You started to cry, choked moans coming out your mouth. Somehow, you held yourself up. You got a hold of the remote control and checked what time it was, but windened your eyes when you realised what day it was. It was Friday. You’ve been asleep for an entire day yesterday and woke up today. In panic you stumbled your way to the front door. You tried to open it but it was completely locked. You noticed Ji Sung took away your keys and your phone, leaving you in panic. You walked a few steps and looked at yourself in the mirror. You gasped in shocked when you saw in what conditon you were. Your lip was busted in three places. Both your cheekbones were bruised and swollen, your right cheekbone slightly shutting your right eye. Your nose was purple and your chin bruised too. You lifted up your blouse and tears started to roll off your cheeks when you stared at the purple bruises that were covering almost all the space of your stomach. You winced in pain when you tried to touch it, sensitivity sending shivers of pain through your entire body. Your knees were purple and your neck had purple bruises in shapes of Ji Sung’s fingers.

There was not a chance you’d be performing anytime soon, or see Taehyung soon. Ji Sung had you locked away, from everything. You slid down the wall, sitting down on the floor. You started to wince and yell in pain and anger you felt. You spent the whole day sitting down, trying to rest. You were trying to cool off your bruises but knew that it would take more than a week for you to look normal again. “Don’t worry, Taehyung-ie, I’ll find a way to get to you.” You whispered to yourself. As the cold night sky carried ugly clouds, you stared outside the window. You breathed in and out, but stopped breathing when you heard the door unlock. You said down and stared at Ji Sung as he got inside. Your look was numb, not feeling anything. Only hatred towards Ji Sung. Ji Sung closed the door as you noticed he forgot to lock them, being half drunk already. You flinched when you realised but soon calmed down, trying not to give yourself away. He plopped down onto the bed and stared at you. “Finally, you’re awake.” He slurred. You just sat in silence, ignoring him. He shook his head and started to chug half the whiskey that was left in the bottle he was holding. Suddendly, your thought drifted off to when Taehyung tried whiskey at that wedding. His face finched so much as he shut his eyes, making you giggle. It really hurt his throat and the hilariously disgusted facial expression he made, made you chuckle so much at that time. You smiled, remembering the though. “What the hell are you smiling about?” he groaned. “I don’t know, might have a concussion.” You said in a serious tone, trying to provocate him. He ignored you and continued drinking, as he talked to himself and you. Your heart stopped when he pulled out your phone and unlocked it, reading your messages.

“Baby. Please. Call me. Pick up the phone please. Are you alright?. Blah Blah Blah. How pathetic.“ He said and you swallowed a hard lump in your throat. You could hear Taehyung’s voice asking you all that and that hurt the most. "This one’s my favorite. ‘I’ll fucking kill him. Please tell me your address, I’ll come for you’." Ji Sung quoted the texts in a very arrogant tone. You felt your eyes water. If only Taehyung could come and get you. “He’s so hotheaded, and young.” Ji Sung spat out. “He’s only a year younger than you.” You spoke, not expecting he’d hear. “Pfft, yet he still doesn’t realise his actions...leave consequences, yes. Pfft. Hotheaded.” He said, sounding completely wasted. You let him mumble things to himself until he finished the whole bottle of whiskey. You stared at him until he fell asleep, just what you wanted. You waited a few minutes and prayed to god that the rain that had just started falling wasn’t going to wake him up. You managed to stand up, biting your hand so you don’t moan in pain. You grabbed a cardigan, dressing yourself over your t-shirt. You tiptoed your way to the front door, putting your shoes on. You slowly opened the door and stared back at Ji Sung who slightly moved. Your eyes shut open in panic but you managed to calm yourself down, stepping outside. That feeling felt so free. The only thing that was keeping you away from Taehyung, your safe place, was distance, and not restriction. 

You closed the door behind yourself with almost no sound. You quietly stepped down the hallway and when you were out of the building you started to speed up your steps, almost running. You groaned in pain but ignored it as you started running. It hurt so much but the more you were away from Ji Sung, you felt safer and you felt yourself heal faster. You ran all the way to Taehyung’s apartment. Panic washed over you along with rain. You were in panic Ji Sung’s friends were following you, but you kept on going. Seeing Taehyung’s apartment complex after 20 minutes of running became a relief for you. You walked up the stairs and opened the main entrance. You walked inside, all soaked from the rain. Your heart was pounding as you made your way up the stairs to his floor. You walked by a very familiar graffiti that you always observed. Your wet hand rang a bell on his door as you knocked softly twice. You were breathing heavily as you heard familiar footsteps on the other end. Tears streamed down your face once Taehyung opened the door.  The look on his face was pure shock, and you couldn’t decide whether it was from the bruises or because he saw you standing in front of him. Then you noticed his eyes, baggier than ever all red and puffy from crying. His hair was messy too, but the most impactful thing was the look on his face. The pained expression that took all the air out of your lungs.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as he held you by your soaked hair and pulled you inside. He closed the door and locked it, leaning against it as he held you. He didn’t know what to say. He started kissing you softly. Your lips hurt but this wasn’t the pain that you’d want to stop. 

“Are you- I don’t know what- are you okay? Baby look at me.“ He looked all worried as he cupped your cheeks, careful not hurt you. You started crying as you held onto his shirt, nuzzling the tip of your nose in his chest. “It’s okay, you’re fine now. I’m here baby. I won’t hurt you.“ He said as he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down. He picked you up and carried you to his room as he carefully sat you down on his purple chair. He brought you a glass of water. You took a few gulps, just so he can calm down a bit too. “Tell me what happened.“ He softly spoke, holding your hands as he kneeled down in front of you. “He did this to me. He was so much more violent than usual. I didn’t know I slept for that lo-long. He took my keys and my phone away from me and locked me inside the apartment. This evening he came back home drunk, he forgot to lock the door so I sneaked out when he fell asleep, so I- I ran. I ran so fast to get here. His people weren’t around so I managed to get away.“ You spoke as he listened to your every word. “Y/N. did he punch you because of me?” He spoke, now hatred plastered on his face. “Taehyung, it’s not-“ You tried to explain but he cut you off. “Did he land a single punch because of what I did?“ He said and stroked your hand as you looked down and noticed his knuckles were purple, and it definitely wasn’t from landing a punch at Ji Sung. “Yes, but he would’ve done it anyway. He gave me a choice-“ You started speaking but stopped yourself, widening your eyes. You looked down. “Choice, what kind of a choice?“ He questioned, lifting your chin up to look at him. You started to cry.

"Did he-did he touch you?" He asked in the most panic was as his breath hitched in his throat. “He wanted to. I pushed him away. It was either letting him touch me or getting beat up.” You softly spoke. Taehyung stood up and walked around with an hateful expression, as he couldn’t control himself. “Taehyung, please, calm down. The most important thing is that I’m here.” You said and stood up, cupping his cheeks as you felt cold even in his warm apartment. He pulled your closer and placed a kiss onto your lips. “I’m not letting you go. I don’t care what you say. We’re gonna figure it out” He said pressing his forehead against yours. “Im not leaving.” You said and nodded. After keeping you close to him for a little while, he spoke again. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’m gonna take care of you.” He said and picked you up as you snuggled close to his chest. “I can do it myself, Taehyung-ah.” You softly said. “Let me do it. Please.” He said, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Thank you.” You whispered. He carried you to the bathroom and sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. He took off your cardigan and kissed your bruised wrists. He tugged at your t-shirt and pulled it off, your neck bruises and stomach bruises appeared, making his soul come apart through his facial expressions. You stood up for a moment as he removed your pants, sliding down your underwear as well. He took off his t-shirt and slid his pajama bottoms down. He turned the warm water on. He took off your bra and took off his underwear. He helped you step into the bath tub as he followed behind you.

You stepped inside the shower, letting warm water slide down both your bodies. He took a sponge and added shampoo and started to wash you. It felt incredibly intimate, even more intimate than when your bodies collide with each other. He was washing you, his soft touch finally grazing your skin. He washed your belly, being really gentle. Everytime you’d let out a wince, he’d place a kiss on the side of your lip that wasn’t bruised. He stepped behind you. You felt that you were healing, relaxing under his touch and that warm water. “Jagi, your back.” Taehyung’s voice cracked, his nose touching your shoulder. You remembered the way Ji Sung threw you against the wall and you didn’t wanna know how bad it looked. He moved the sponge slowly up and down your back and you winced in pain. Taehyung couldn’t stand those noises so he turned you around and kissed your lips, leaning his forehead against yours as water washed over you both.

After he washed you, Taehyung gave you a t-shirt and those same pajama bottoms you always wear. He brushed your hair and applied cooling cream onto your bruises and pressed kissed onto every single one. With every single kiss, you felt safer. He held you close to him, occasionally pecking your lips, just because. You both felt so emotional, you couldn’t get the words out. So you just held each other. “You’re knuckles, Taehyung-ah.“ You said and stroked his bruises, kissing them gently. “I was...upset.” He said and turned his head to a wooden closet that had a hole pierced through the doors. You stared for a bit and turned your face to him, cupping his cheeks. “I missed your beautiful face. And soft hands.” He said, easing his head into your palms. “My face is not beautiful. Especially not now.” You said and looked down. “You’re beautiful, regardless of all that. And you won’t look like that anymore. I made a mistake when I let you leave-” You cut him off. “You didn’t. It was wrong from me to ask you to stay there but Ji Sung left a friend with a gun to bring me home. You couldn’t have done anything so please don’t blame yourself.” You said, stroking his cheeks as you pecked his lips. “Neither you or me should be blamed for this.” You said pointing at your face and body. “It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. And I hope I won’t be seeing anymore of him.”.”I hope that too. I’ll give my everything to keep you safe.” He repeated over and over again. “I know, baby.” You said and continued. “Please, don’t punch closets anymore, okay?” You said and kissed his bruises again. He nodded and managed to smile. You pecked his lips as he laid down next to you. He laid behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You could tell he was so careful to not touch any of your bruises. “Thank you for everything, Taehyung-ah.” You whispered. You felt his warm breath on your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. “Can you sing for me? I missed hearing your voice.”He whispered. “Only if you sing it with me.” You said and he nodded, placing a kiss on your neck. You started singing ‘Gloomy Sunday’ as Taehyung’s heartbeat sped up finally hearing your voice. All you could think about was the time he first heard you sing. This very song. You remembered his innocent face and boxy smile as back then everything seemed so easy.

Taehyung joined you, harmonizing with you as you melted upon hearing his voice that you always adored. You both started to drift to sleep, the longer you sang. You fell asleep like that, mumbling last few notes of the song. You were lucky enough that this wasn’t a dream, and Taehyung was pressed so close against you.

PART 7

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Northern Downpour. (Ryan Ross x Reader)

Note: :)

Listen to- oh, who am I kidding? You all know what to do. ;)

 ‘Hey moon,

Found this little bistro a few blocks down from my apartment block. It’s really cute and homey – kinda like what you would be like, if you were a bistro.

That sounded weird, didn’t it?

I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, as I’m sure you can tell. I hope my ineptness doesn’t scare you away – especially not before I’m able to take you out on a date. A real date. Not these Skype ones we’ve been having.

Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing your face in a freeze-frame during our crappily-connected video calls, but I’m certain that nothing will compare to seeing your beauty in person.

Did I mention that the bistro is Italian? I checked, and they have all of your favorites: lasagne, double-pepperoni pizza, triple-chocolate gelato… You’ll love it.

I know that I’ve said this perhaps a thousand times before, but lately, I’ve found myself thinking of this more and more – in fact, it's been all that has captured my thoughts for a long while now – I want to see you. In person, not through an insufferably small screen.

I want nothing more than to see you standing right in front of me. I know that it’s not the biggest of possibilities at the moment, but I have to keep reminding you of it.

Don’t think that all of these inconsequential barriers keeping us from being together will stop me from seeing you, because I assure you, moon, there is no force in the universe strong enough to keep us apart forever.

I will come for you.

If all our life is but a dream

Fantastic posing greed

Then we should feed our jewellery to the sea

For diamonds do appear to be

Just like broken glass to me

My heart, my soul, my life is yours,

Northern Downpour’

Ryan picked up the dried-out, pressed peony that was lying in wait on the desk next to the paper, and carefully slid it into the folds of the letter before placing the page into a faded yellow envelope.

He placed the piece of stationery safely inside the front pocket of his messenger bag before heading out the door; it reached you the next day, on the first of the month – just like all of his letters would.

~

The hasty manner in which you ripped open the envelope caused a laceration on the tip of your finger, but you paid no notice to the sharp sting as you swiftly removed the letter from the confines of the envelope.

Your heart fluttered as you unfolded the paper and saw the peony flurry out, your hand instinctively reaching out to catch it just like it had tens of times before.

Your eyes devoured his written words at lightning speed and before you knew it, you were sitting on the floor next to your wooden, paint-chipped coffee table, authoring your response.

 ‘Dearest Northern Downpour,

You should know by now that there’s no need to apologise for your adorably awkward mannerisms; I adore all of them. And I can only imagine that I would enjoy them even more if I were able to experience them in person.

The thought of seeing you has consumed my mind too. I want it more than anything in the world. Sadly, you know that it’s not possible, as heart-breaking as that is. A freelance writing job doesn’t exactly pay for the bills and an airplane ticket.

I’ve made lovely progress with my novel, though. So much so, that I’ve piqued the interest of an actual publisher, and I’m meeting with them next week. I’m counting on this to be my big break; I could use whatever they pay me to come and see you, and we can go on that date you were talking about.

You along with Italian food sounds like my perfect night.

How is your music coming along? Have you gotten any gigs yet? I miss hearing you sing to me; it was always the part of our video calls that I looked forward to the most. Try and get that laptop of yours fixed, won’t you? I miss seeing your beautiful face.

And those lyrics! Oh, they’re wonderful! I know that you’ve only sent me a few lines, but I have a strong sense that this is going to be my favourite song you’ve written so far.  

I have no doubt in my mind that we will be together. Whether it be tomorrow, next month, next year, ten years from now… I know that we will eventually find one another.

And that thought is all that’s keeping me going.

Yours. Forever and always,

Moon’

~

‘Hey moon,

The sound of your beautiful voice – breathless and bursting with elation as you relayed the wonderful news to me – made me so dizzy with happiness that I had to sit down for a moment. I’d forgotten how much of a high hearing you speak gave me; nothing in the world could ever compare.

I’m tremendously proud of you, darling. You deserve this more than anyone. I know how many sleepless nights this book has given you, so to hear that it’s all going to be worth it is absolutely wonderful.

Things are looking up on my side too. Brendon said that he knows a guy (I think his name is Pete) that might be able to get us a gig, so that’s good. Granted, it won’t be at the most exalted of places, but it’s a start. We’re actually crafting the setlist at present; I took a bit of a time-out to write this letter.

And because it was a tad overwhelming.

I’m aware that us getting a gig is a huge deal – especially if there’s a chance we could get noticed – but I can’t help but feel anxious about it. What if I mess up? Forget the lyrics or play the wrong chords? I know that this is something I’ve been waiting for my whole life, but now that it’s actually going to happen, I feel…

To be completely honest, I don’t know how I feel. Nervous, concerned, sick, useless, all of the above…

But whatever it is, I need it to stop. I don’t want to screw up and let the guys down.

I don’t want to let you down.

And then she said she can’t believe

Genius only comes along

In storms of fabled foreign tongues

Tripping eyes, and flooded lungs

Northern Downpour sends its love

 Hey moon, please forget to fall down

Hey moon, don’t you go down

 Sugarcane in the easy morning

Weather-vanes my one and lonely

My heart, my soul, my life is yours,

Northern Downpour’

~

Whatever interest you had developed in your friends’ conversation vanished instantaneously when you spotted the mailman walking the front path of your faded-brick duplex.

Your nearly empty coffee mug clanged as it was dropped onto the counter-top, catching both of the other girls’ attention. (Y/B/F) was about to question your sudden lack of grip on the piece of crockery, but once she saw you sprinting out the front door and to the mailbox, a knowing smile played on her lips.

Your other friend was not as enlightened, and she furrowed her brows. “What was that about?”

“Today’s the first,” (Y/B/F) smirked, taking a sip from her mug and pulling a smug face as you re-entered the room, “which means that she got a letter from loverboy. What’s he say?” she jerked her head at you.

Ignoring her comment, you practically ripped the pale envelope open, eager to get to the piece of Ryan’s thoughts that was inside. Per ritual, you stuck your hand out and caught the peony, clutching it to your chest as you began to read the letter.

Barely two minutes later, you were penning your response.

 ‘Dearest Northern Downpour,

Don’t you ever, ever, in a million years think that you could disappoint me – it’s just not possible. My love, I am so terrifically proud of you and everything that you do – everything that you create – because it’s all unconditionally magical. You have a gift, and an extraordinary one at that, to craft masterpieces that are able to evoke emotions in people that they didn’t even know they had. You’re a true genius, and I don’t want you to ever doubt yourself the way that you are right now.

As for the guys… I know that they feel the same way. They respect what you do. They adore what you do. And I know that they are exceptionally grateful to have you.

As am I.

You’ve made my world so much brighter and wonderful just by allowing me to know you, and the fact that I’m privileged enough to be able to call you mine makes me wake up with a huge smile on my face every morning.  

To hear you degrade yourself like that breaks my heart. Honestly. I wish that you were with me right now so that I could smack some sense into you.

You’re utterly remarkable, Ryan. Don’t ever think otherwise.

So you’re going to go to that gig, you’re going to get up on that stage, and you’re going to make everyone fall in love with you through your music.

I believe in you, my love. Stay strong.

Yours. Forever and always,

Moon’

 You’d been so immersed in your writing that you had momentarily forgotten about the presence of your two friends, reminded of it only when one of them spoke up.

“How long have you been together for, again?”

“Almost a year,” you sighed with a small smile, gently folding the paper up.

“And you haven’t seen each other in person yet?”

“Nope.”

She grimaced. “Have you said ‘I love you’?”

“No,” you said softly, retrieving a travel bottle of your perfume from the desk drawer, “No, we haven’t.”

~

Everything around him melted into a noisy haze as he stood backstage, guitar slung around his neck as his eyes scanned the page he held in his hand, re-reading the words for what must have been the thousandth time.

Once his pupils had swiped over your signature, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – both to calm himself down and to inhale the faint scent of your perfume. The fragrance would’ve usually been more potent, but his constant handling of the fragile paper watered it down.

“Two minutes, Ry,” Brendon announced, nudging his friend in the shoulder.

After one last glance over the words on the paper, Ryan folded it up and placed it in the breast pocket of his jacket – right over his heart.

~

‘Hey moon,

I played that gig today. God, I was so nervous; I almost didn’t go through with it. The only thing that got me up on that stage was your words from the last letter. If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve chickened out.

That being said – I need you to be at the next show. The image of your words on paper was enough to keep me going for tonight, but I’m not sure if that will be the case next time. I need you to be here with me. I need to be able to hold you before I go on stage, I need to hear you whisper that it’s all going to be okay, I need to feel your lips on mine as a silent reassurance…

I just need you.

Kinda weird, isn’t it? The fact that I need someone so badly, but I haven’t even met them yet. I have no idea how that works; all I know is that if I don’t see you soon, I’m going to go insane.

The ink is running towards the page

It’s chasing off the days

Look back at both feet

And that winding knee

I missed your skin when you were east

You clicked your heels and wished for me

 Through playful lips made of yarn

That fragile Capricorn

Unravelled words like moths upon old scarves

I know the worlds a broken bone

But melt your headaches, call it home

My heart, my soul, my life is yours,

Northern Downpour’

~

‘Dearest Northern Downpour,

I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am. You did it. I knew you could do it.

Just goes to show that I’m always right.

You know how much I love listening to you sing, and you know that if I could be there for you at every show, every gig that you play, no matter how big or small, I would. But I can’t right now. Believe me, it’s tearing me apart to not be able to be with you in the way that we both so desperately want. Ache for.

They say that money can’t buy happiness, but you are the thing that makes me most happy, and yet money is the only thing keeping me from you.

Cruel, isn’t it? That a couple hundred dollars is all that’s separating us.

I cried today. It wasn’t intentional; I didn’t mean to. I just thought of what it would be like to actually, physically be with you and I got a little bit too emotional.

There’s not much going on with me, otherwise. My book is still being edited – they said it could take up to another five months to finish. But I’m working on another story in the meantime, about long-distance relationships. Bet you’ll never guess where I got the inspiration for that.

Until next time, my love.

Yours. Forever and always,

Moon’

~

Ryan had just about finished reading your letter when the rest of the band barged into his room, panting and out of breath from running but wearing the biggest smiles on their faces. Ryan leaned backwards out of fear.

“What-“

“DUDE, WE WON!”

“Uh, what?” Ryan shook his head, utterly perplexed. “We won? Won what? I don’t remember entering anything.”

“That show we played the other night,” Brendon explained, rushing over to take a seat on the bed as the other two followed him, “Turns out it was actually a competition! They had undercover judges scoring all the bands that played that week in secret, and we came out on top!” Brendon let out a short, triumphant laugh as he threw his hands up in the air.

“Oh wow,” Ryan widened his eyes, looking at each of his bandmates in turn, “that’s awesome. Well done, boys.”

“But wait,” Spencer held up a finger, “there’s more. Tell him, Bren.”

“We made two thousand dollars, baby!” He exclaimed, practically jumping with joy. “That’s five hundred for each of us. Annnnnd, we get to go to the studio with Fall Out Boy and make our own demo!”

Ryan’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You’re kidding,” he chuckled before frowning and turning to the other two, jutting a thumb at Brendon, “He’s kidding, right?”

When no one supported his claim – just stared at him, smiling like idiots – Ryan let out an incredulous laugh before rushing to stand up.

“Did they give the prize money in cash?”

Spencer nodded.

“Good. Cause I’m gonna need my share.”

~

You stood still as a statue as you stared out the window, boring a hole into the mailbox with the intensity your gaze held. Your eyes flicked over to the clock hanging next to you on the wall, and you continued biting the sides of your fingers raw as you acknowledged the time.

The mailman was two hours late, and today was the first, which meant that every second that ticked by was torturous to you. You knew that sometimes things happen, and there could’ve been numerous reasons as to why the mailman was late, but that fact did nothing to ease your anxiety.

You were worried that something was wrong. That Ryan’s letter either didn’t make it to you this time, or that – God forbid – he hadn’t written one at all. It was a totally irrational thought, but it was present nonetheless.

After another thirty minutes or so of waiting, your nerves couldn’t take it anymore and you started out the door and to the mailbox, silently hoping and praying that the mailman had happened to do his deliveries early today.

Your hopes were soon shattered, however, when you opened the hatch and were met by sweet nothingness. The pain resounding in your chest could only be compared to taking a bullet to the heart; it hurt like a bitch.

Slowly and regretfully, you closed the hatch, trying your hardest to contain the emotions coursing through you. Said emotions were so powerful, in fact, that you hadn’t noticed the presence of someone behind you until they spoke.

“Hey moon.”

Your entire body stiffened as a gasp escaped your lips and goosebumps formed all along your skin. You knew that voice. You’d know that voice anywhere. Even when sounding from the deepest, darkest void of the universe, you would recognise that voice.

And you would run to it.

You almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you turned around, but the sight before you was well worth it. There, standing right in front you, looking as adorably awkward as ever as he held a bouquet of peonies and a faded yellow envelope, was Ryan Ross.

Neither of you could repress the enormous grins on your faces, nor could you stop the tears from spilling over. You wanted to move, or say something, but you couldn’t. Fortunately, Ryan did it for you.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I felt the need to hand-deliver this one,” he explained, holding out the envelope to you; you gripped it with shaky hands, “I think it’s the best one I’ve written so far.”

Tearing the envelope open, you retrieved the piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal three little words.

‘I love you’

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Taglist:

@darknessdancing

@raversam

@username-number-01834

@moosesmoose

@underscoredarcy

[kitsumiekat]

Afterlife - Loki x Evangeline (PG)

Pairing: Loki x OC (Evangeline)

Summary: She realizes that without Loki, she may as well have nothing. She would do anything to get him back. 

Setting: Loki’s death had sent Evangeline into a spiral of grief, as she sough to possibly avenge who she thought had been the cause of her beloved’s death. 

A/N: I decided to actually give a name to Loki’s press secretary that I wrote about here. And also because I cannot deal with how thoughtlessly Marvel just murdered Loki without a proper explanation or death scene. Seriously. *seethes* So THIS is my headcanon to what happened to everyone who had died. Because I also mourn Gamora’s death. T_TSo this is a fix-it fic I think all of us are desperately writing now. xD

---

She had always thought of herself as a strong, independent woman. Evangeline Mason grew up in a single-parent family, and started working part-time even before she graduated college to help support her ailing mother and to pay her tuition fees. 

She always thought she never needed a man, that if ever a man appeared in her life, it’d be an accessory, and that if anything happened to him, Evangeline would still be able to go on by herself.

She had never met Loki Laufeyson before then.

When Thor had sent to Earth the news that Loki was now dead by the hands of Thanos, Evangeline felt rage she had never felt before, not even when her mother had passed away from the careless hands of a surgeon who was supposed to cure her. Her Loki, who had came so long in redeeming himself from the pure mischief he used to cause. The Loki who was strong and protective of his loved ones, who swore undying loyalty to her as he made love to her the night before he left to Sakaar after his short visit to her, saying he had to return to his brother, that Thor needed his help.

Her Loki, who she would now never see again because of one stupid Titan’s selfish wish.

“Shuri, how much longer do you need?” T’Challa’s voice crackled over the intercom of the Wakanda research facility.

“I just started, brother!” Shuri retorted.

From where Evangeline stood, she could see Wanda’s worried face as she watched the battle outside, and then back to Shuri working on Vision’s stone embedded in his head. In a way, Evangeline could feel what Wanda probably felt at this point, the whole uncertainty of whether or not she could save a loved one, of losing a loved one.

Of losing him.

Her heart had been in pain since that day Thor had sent the news from the rescue pod he had somehow managed to get on. Bruce and the Captain had insisted Evangeline come with them, stating that they’d be able to protect her better together. Natasha had joked that Loki would probably wage war on Earth even as a ghost if they let anything happened to her, but she all could see the concern they had. She had managed to tame Loki, in a way no one else ever could. Loki would not survive without her.

But can she survive without him?

“I’m going down.” Wanda suddenly announced, no longer able to stand watching by and doing nothing as the rest of their friends got eviscerated on the battlefield.

“Go. I’m almost there.” Shuri muttered, most of her concentration focused on the screen which had a million or more neurons showcased on it.

“I’m coming too.” Evangeline announced, much to Wanda’s surprise. The Scarlet Witch, frowned, and then shook her head. 

“No. Captain wouldn’t agree. You’re defenseless-” Wanda was cut off when Evangeline reached into her boots, and pulled out a small, Asgardian dagger, with a green stone embedded in it’s hilt.

“You know what I’m feeling, Wanda. You, of all people should know.” Evangeline bit out. “I need to be down there.”

Wanda stared, and finally sighed. The Scarlet Witch was no dummy. They all knew Evangeline had been hurting from the news, and had yet to recover. She had yet to even properly mourn, and Bruce was right in saying that the dark haired girl had too much anger and rage pented up in her towards Thanos and his role in bringing death to her lover. Perhaps bringing the headstrong press secretary was the best way to relieve her of her pain.

“Alright, come along then. Stay close.”

---

Not wanting to be a liability in the fight, Evangeline had stolen away the moment Wanda’s attention was taken, her fingers curled around the dagger she held, the one that had Loki’s green emerald embedded in it.

“Why?” she had asked, as he handed her the ornate dagger, an emerald gleaming at its hilt. Oh, Evangeline knew the significance of the emerald. It’s green was a stark reminder of her boyfriend. But the dagger?

“To protect you when I can’t.” he placed it in her palms and closed her fingers around it. “And a promise to you for when I return.”

Frowning, Evangeline held the hilt closer to her, and then her eyes widened upon reading the inscription. ‘Loki Laufeyson, son of Odin, husband to Evangeline Mason’.

Blinking in surprise, she turned curious, shocked and searching eyes on the dark haired god she called her own, only for his smile to reach her eyes as he tilted her chin upwards and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “My brother needs me, angel.”

“Aren’t you on Sakaar?” she asked, placing her hand over his cupping her cheek. “Can’t I come with you?”

“No.” was his immediate answer. “Thor is on his way to Sakaar. I... can sort of feel him.” he said wryly, pressing one last kiss to her forehead. “Wait for me, angel. I’ll be back.”

If you can’t come back to me, I’ll go to you. Evangeline thought fiercely, ducking behind trees and boulders, before finally running towards the forest edge where eventually, she felt the wind stir, as the rest of the Avengers team came running to where Wanda stood with an injured and weak Vision in her arms. The rest of them were frozen still, and when she eventually caught up to them, it was Steve who held an arm out, stopping her from running further by catching her.

“What is it?” 

“He’s here.” he explained.

No one had to explain who ‘he’ was.

---

Her death had been quick. But then again, it always was for those who had nothing to lose.

Evangeline had hoped that by throwing herself at Thanos as he made a beeline for Vision and Wanda, she would be able to help in some way. Never mind the fact that everyone fighting along her was either insanely strong, had some form of super weapon, or was generally a god.

But Evangeline had one power.

Grief.

Grief, and the fact that she had no one else to lose. But it didn’t matter. Grief did not make her immortal. So when Thanos tossed her aside while fending off Rocket and T’Challa, her head had hit a nearby boulder, and the force of his throw cracked her back. An intense pain filled Evangeline, a type of which she had never known in her life, before darkness claimed her.

---

“Angel, Angel sweetheart, wake up.”

Had they managed to defeat Thanos? Or maybe this was a dream, where Loki had never left her in the first place? In that case, Evangeline never wanted to wake up. 

But Loki was presistent. As he always was.

The ground shook beneath her, his voice repeatedly calling her name until eventually, it disturbed her enough for her to pry her eyes open, blearily blinking until she saw the worried look of her beloved, his dark hair combed back and sleek, in his God of Mischief outfit, yet a tender look that was far from his usual smirk as he cradled her head.

“Thank Odin you’re awake.” his voice held a wealth of relief as her eyes opened wider, and as the events came rushing back to her, Evangeline scrambled to sit up.

“Wh- Loki!” Relief overpowered her confusion, and when she launched herself to wrap her arms in a vise grip around his neck, Loki held her tightly to himself, as if he too had had the scare of his life. 

“I’m sorry, angel mine, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t mean?!” The relief slowly melted into anger and frustration. Evangeline leaned back, scowling and slamming a palm on his chest, making him wince. He probably didn’t feel a thing, but she continued slamming her palms on his chest anyway. “I’ve been heartbroken you useless, piece of-”

Before she could finish her sentence, the god had closed his lips over hers, stopping her barrage of words with a kiss that Evangeline had thought she would never be able to feel again. They moulded their lips together, relief and love twining together until someone cleared a throat behind them, making them jump apart.

Evangeline blinked when she saw a red haired, green skinned woman staring at them, hands on her hips with a wry blink. “Are we done here?”

She frowned, her skeptical gaze turning on Loki, who immediately held up his palms in a sign of surrender. “Who is this?”

“I’m Gamora, and don’t worry, I have no designs on your loverboy here. Unless it’s to lop his horns off.” she muttered, a tone of irritation that many associated with Loki familiar in her words.

In an instance, Evangeline’s mild tinge of jealousy subsided, but she still gave a skeptical look at Gamora, before her eyes roamed the dark cavern they were apparently in, and then back at Loki, seeking for answers with her gaze.

“This... is Hel, angel mine.” Pulling her up, he stood next to her, arms remaining on her waist. “This was where my sister was held by Odin... and where souls go after death. Which reminds me,” he frowned, looking at her with a curl of anger sparking in his dark eyes. “What brought you here?” His tone held no lie, and it was obvious that Loki had a simmering anger towards whoever had actually harmed his angel, that she would end up in hell.

“Thanos.” was her simple explanation. “Last I was there, he was going after Vision. The final stone. I don’t know how he-”

“He sacrificed me for the Soul Stone. He must have gotten the Time Stone somehow. Vision’s one is the final one. Did he get it?” Gamora immediately asked, anxiety clear in her voice.

Evangeline frowned, and nodded. “Probably. He was picking everyone else apart in Wakanda when I left.”

“Whatever trick you have up your sleeve, Laufeyson, you better do it now.” Gamora snarled at Loki, who growled right back, holding Evangeline closer to him with wary eyes on the green skinned woman. He didn’t trust Gamora, but they had a common goal, one they had discovered when Gamora had dropped into Hel mere days after Loki arrived. He was incapable of escaping Hell himself, but with help...

“Do you plan on getting out of here?” Evangelne asked, an arm on Loki’s forearm.

He turned down to look at her, and his eyes softened when he saw her features. When he knew of his own death, Loki’s first thought had been to her safety. While he trusted the rest of the Avengers to keep her safe, he wanted to be by her side, and knowing he couldn’t frustrated him. He had dug for days in his own memories to find a way out, and knowing his sister no longer over presided over the final realm of the Nine Worlds made it a tad bit easier, but the task would by no means be simple.

“Of course, and you’ll be coming along.” he murmured, tenderly brushing his finger on her cheek. With a wave of his hand, he summoned his sceptre, but Evangeline gasped when she saw the lack of the tesseract, which had powered up his abilities.

“But-”

“We’ll figure some way out, angel. I’ll get you home.” he promised, hearing the worry in her voice.

He tried to calm her, of course he would. Evangeline knew that in Loki’s head, nothing was worth more then her wellbeing, but she also know that there was more to just her and his safety to return to Earth, but a question of the rest of the world. Looking back, she saw the wistful look on Gamora’s face, mixed with the pain and anger of a life Evangeline could only guess she had lived.

This was more then just them.

“You’ll get us all back, I trust you will.” she assured, lacing her fingers with Loki and just basking in the fact that she could feel his chilled skin next to hers again, a temperature she had almost lost.”For all of us.”

[aslightstep]

Hi, I just saw that you are taking writing prompts. I wonder if you could do number 9. with Tony/T'Challa (preferably post CW)? That would be amazing, thank you.

Oh lights go down in the moment we’re lost and found/I just wanna be by your side/If these wings could fly

Song is:

Wings

Tony took his hand, leading him away from the others. They watched the two pass, some stepping aside when needed, but T’Challa kept his eyes on Tony. “Play a game with me?” Tony asked, and T’Challa replied: “What kind?”

“Stress test for the brain, kitty cat. Can’t let a mind like that go to waste. We’ll call it ‘Remember When?’”

They emerged from the war room that had survived the helicarrier’s crash out into the blood-red evening sky. It was quiet tonight; T’Challa was no longer use to it and he treasured it now. He could hear every breath moving in and out of Tony’s body so clearly. He counted them, every one, held them close and Tony closer as they began the long walk. “Alright,” he agreed after a long moment when Tony seemed to slip a bit on the exposed struts, overbalanced by his burden. “I’ll play.”

Tony grinned, and they both ignored the wobble to it. “That’s my guy. Alright. Remember when….we first met?”

“1997. You were twenty-seven and I was twelve. Shuri and I had traveled with our parents to Germany. You were giving a conference on robotics. I snuck out of my hotel room to see you.” Because Tony Stark had been brilliant, even back then, and T’Challa had been fascinated. “You were half-drunk and still managed to answer every question.” He had been impressed. And mildly disgusted. Tony Stark had glowed so bright.

“He is a candle burning at both ends,” T’Challa had relayed miserably to his father when he and his sister were inevitably tracked down and dragged back to the Embassy. T’Chaka had somehow viewed that lesson enough, and they never spoke of it again.

“That’s the first time you saw me, Lion-O, not when we first met,” Tony admonished him in the present. “Now I’m officially worried. Do I need to send you back to Van Dyne to get your head scanned?”

“I am not leaving you,” T’Challa said firmly, and Tony’s teasing smirk slid away. T’Challa sighed. “2016, Germany. The Accords. Leipzig, with the others. You were still in the red and gold then.” Iron Man had fought brighter and more brilliantly then any one else that day, and when he looked back on those interminable gray days after his father died what he remembered was flashes of red and gold against a too-blue sky.

“Aw. Do I hear nostalgia in your voice?” Tony glanced down at his body, covered up by the sleek, black stealth suit that was Mark 76. Born just two days ago, from blood, smoke, and tears - and a part of T’Challa’s heart. “Can’t blame you. I miss it, too. Your turn, T.”

T’Challa pursed his lips, thinking. A smile - hadn’t he thought just last night that he would never smile again? - curled his lips. “Remember when you first visited Wakanda?”

“Oh, God,” Tony groaned. “On that half-baked mission to bring back Steve and his Merry Men? I was so surprised that you just let me touch down-”

“You didn’t speak the language,” T’Challa remembered with a grin.

“And your delightful countrymen led me on a chase for three days. I just wanted to talk to you but nope! Go wander in the jungle for three days, Stark, maybe the king will deign to rescue you from the panthers.”

“You didn’t need rescuing,” he replied with a chuckle. He began to like this game. It was so Tony. A smile to the last. “Perhaps a lesson.”

“On my overbearing ego. Believe it or not, loverboy, you were not the first one to try to drill that into my head.”

“Patience, Tony. The lesson was patience.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, with a smile that turned salacious. “Well, you figured out better ways to teach me that, didn’t you?”

They came to the end of the broken metal and made the jump down the street below, Tony using his thrusters so the landing would jumble his precious cargo. The streets were littered with craters and parts, machine and alien and human alike. Scott Lang and Wanda Maximoff were down here still, somewhere.

“Remember when we first got to talk? No bullshit, just you and me?” Tony asked, and T’Challa tilted his head, searching out his lover’s face for a clue to this specific memory. They had had many conversations in those early months, and every one carved a new special place for itself in T’Challa’s mind. Tony was grimacing a little, and something clicked.

“You mean the first time we fought?” he asked, near disbelieving. “Only you, Tony…” But it was the first time he had seen Tony Stark drop his masks, his ‘overbearing ego’, and let T’Challa see the vulnerable man underneath.

He had just been so tired of fixing the Accords, tired of running up against Tony as a roadblock when for all intents and purposes they were supposed to working together. Every time mention of Steve’s team came up, Tony would turn away.

“Are you truly so obsessed with your own image, so prideful that you can no longer see what is the greater good?” he had finally snapped after cornering Tony alone in a conference room in Austria.

“I’m fighting for the greater good right here and now, same as you, Panther King, so you can drop the high and mighty act,” Tony had snarled.

“No. You are fighting for yourself.” And Tony had physically jerked back out of his grip. “You know we need the Captain and the others, yet you continued to block their return-”

“No, I’m simply not aiding it! They want to come back then they can damn well come back and speak for themselves because I am done doing the dirty jobs for them.”

“We need them!” T’Challa had insisted, and something in Tony’s eyes had broken. He did not realize how dark the other man’s eyes were until that moment, when cracks of light began to appear as he let loose.

He screamed at T’Challa, about betrayal, and trust, and teamwork. About family, and how the Avengers were not one. That Tony could not forgive them, could not let it be okay, because that would be mean that they got away with it, were even rewarded. That Tony wanted nothing more than to forgive, anyway.

“You told me the choice to end my suffering had always been mine,” Tony whispered, coming to stop in front of Stark Tower, staring up at the ruined remains of the physical embodiment of his legacy. “I needed to hear that. Never thanked you for it.”

“You are welcome,” T’Challa said, dragging Tony’s gauntlet up to press a kiss to it. He managed a smile. “Remember when we kissed for the first time?”

Tony rolled his eyes, playful. His hand trembled in T’Challa’s. “How could I forget? Never had a guy stage a private dinner and a moonlit stroll just for one kiss.”

“You deserved it,” T’Challa said, remember how Tony’s hair had gone oddly silver in the moonlight, how he’d given in to the urge to run his fingers through it. “You were worth it. Always.” He delivered the last word as a whisper to Tony’s palm before dropping it as they both turned towards the Tower. The first few floors were ruined, blocking access, but T’Challa wanted - needed - to take his time.

Tony turned to him with a grin that faded quickly from his eyes. “Remember when I took you flying?”

T’Challa stepped close in response, one foot on Tony’s boot as the suit boosted them up. That first time had been significantly more exciting than this, Tony taking them high above the jungles, twisting and twirling and even dropping T’Challa every once and awhile before catching him. They had kissed at 2000 feet of open air and he had never felt more alive.

Now, Tony touched down at the 18th floor and led T’Challa inside towards the elevator. “Tony, there’s no power-” T’Challa protested, but Tony just smiled, holding one finger to his lips.

“Elevator makes its own electricity,” he confessed as they slid into the box. Indeed, the buttons lit up when Tony’s pressed one and they began their ascent. “Me and…me and Pepper. We. We were gonna market it. Stark’s next billion. Before.”

Before. When the sky was still blue and Japan still existed. When the only alien was Thor and the only thing that hung in the sky was the moon. 

When he and Tony had had the rest of their lives.

“Remember when we first made love?” T’Challa whispered. Tony doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. It had been slick and sweet and as unhurried as it had been unanticipated. A stolen evening with Tony in his palace, shut away from the world. He would give anything-

“Don’t,” Tony said, suddenly there against his lips, before he closed the distance. They kissed artlessly, mindful of the package cradled under one of Tony’s arms. “Remember when,” Tony breathed, kissing him between words. “When I told you I love you?”

“You made everything such a competition,” T’Challa said, pressing closer. Package be damned. They could ruin it now, and then Tony could never use it. “So proud of saying it first. Like I didn’t already know. Like I didn’t already love you. Like I hadn’t always.”

“Sweet talker,” Tony tried to tease, but it came out on a sob.

The elevator beeped. Roof access. The doors slid open. Tony pulled away, eyes remaining closed for a very long moment, before they opened and he stepped back, once more taking T’Challa’s hand, leading them out.

The sky was much lighter here. The atmospheric weapons Thanos’ forces had deployed had destroyed it months ago, not long after the first arrival. Still, it was strangely beautiful. 

“You’re here,” Bruce Banner breathed, coming towards them, eyes glued to Tony. “Tony…”

“Please don’t.”

Banner’s face fell. “I know. I - thank you.” They always said that, in the end. Others had raged and screamed at Tony, together and individually, but in the end, they always thanked him.

He would not send Rhodey. He would not risk Vision. And Thor would never make it to Thanos’ battle station undetected. 

It had to be Tony.

“Dimensional Trap, Tab A, as requested,” Tony said, handing the key piece of machinery he had carved from a Cosmic Cube and hidden these long months from Thanos’ ever expanding reach. “Never did come up with a snazzier name.”

“I’ll get it ready. You two-” Bruce looked between them, then down at their hands. “Take your time.” He walked away, towards where the rest of the parts, the more easily replaced ones, waited for assembly under Erik Selvig’s careful watch.

They turned to each other. “Remember when,” Tony began, but didn’t continue. He raised a hand, manipulating the suit until the gauntlet fell away, and traced T’Challa’s face carefully, as if memorizing it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he answered, voice breaking on every syllable. He wanted to beg, and scream, and cry. And he had. Every day since Tony revealed his plan one week ago to attach a dimensional drive to Thanos’ main ship, half phasing everything within a ten mile radius into another dimension until the sheer pull of reality tore it apart. A device that had to be placed and activated manually. 

This was not the time for that. This was the time to hold his lover close, absorb the trembling in his bones, and kiss his tears away. Later, there would be time for T’Challa’s grief. Now, they mourned Tony’s lost future.

“Remember when you saved the world?” T’Challa asked softly.

“I remember when we did,” Tony answered, and they smiled at each other.

“Tony,” Bruce called after what seemed like only a few seconds. He held up the fully assembled drive, his face lined with grief. “It’s time.” 

Tony nodded, and his helmet was sliding around his face. There was a long pause where T’Challa knew he was informing the Avengers down below of his departure, hearing their last well wishes and goodbyes, and then his hand slid out of T’Challa’s, metal wrapping around the digits, and walked towards Bruce.

Iron Man took the device in his hands. “I’m very scared,” he confessed, his voice sounding almost conversational through the comm line.

“I’m right here with you,” T’Challa promised, and the faceplate turned to him. “I won’t leave you.”

There was a pause, then a nod, then Iron Man blasted into the sky.

He didn’t know how long he had watched, long after Iron Man had disappeared from view, when Tony’s voice came over the line again. “Remember when we got married?”

“Tony, we never-” T’Challa began, before the words caught up to him. Tony’s game. A whimper escaped him as he slowly collapsed to the ground with his head in his hands. “Yes,” he whispered. “I remember.” 

“How did it go again?” Tony asked, a very thin thread of fear in his voice. “I’m getting old you know. Memory’s not what it used to be.”

“We…we had two. We had to. You became my - my consort,” T’Challa gasped. “We had a coronation. Then a smaller, private one in New York. Friends and family. We all came together.”

“Rhodey cried during his best man speech.”

“Peter ruined the cake. We didn’t mind. Vision had made it; we didn’t have the heart to tell him-”

“-how terrible it was,” Tony finished.

The sky above was a red haze through his tears. “Remember when we decided to start a family?”

“I-” Tony sucks in a harsh, surprised breath. “I still can’t believe they let us adopt.”

“We named her Maria.”

“And him T’Chaka. We - I was so scared I was gonna mess up, be a horrible dad, but we made out alright, didn’t we?”

T’Challa nodded, smiling around the cry in his throat. “We did. We did, Tony. We were happy. Content.”

“We grew up,” Tony said, words spilling out of him fast and messy now. “Got old. Raised the kids, the grandkids. We trained - trained new Avengers. Fuck. Fuck. I passed the suit on. You passed the crown. We. We. Jesus Christ - we retired. We were happy. Do you remember that, T’Challa? So happy. I never knew - remember? Remember when-”

The line cut out. Above them, a shock of black erupted in the red for several long seconds before disappearing. 

T’Challa jerked back in shock, then fell forward with a scream. “Tony?” he asked the line when his breath returned. There was no reply. “I remember, Tony,” he answered dead air. “I remember it all.”