#she sleeps with her bodyguard sometimes and neither of them really know what to think about it

[magnolia-sunrise]

also also 1, 10, and 16 for thorne !! i feel like i'm ordering from a restaurant sorry dgkfghlkdf

THANK YOU FOR THE HEFTY ORDER!! I AM HAPPY TO SERVE

ask game

1.how do they feel about physical intimacy? how do they feel about sex?

ahhhahah i would describe Thorne with one word and that is "detached". she doesn't really maintain a difference between personal, private or work life which means she is equally detached from almost all aspects of it to protect herself and her interests - being intimate with anyone is a potential weakness, both to her position and to that person. sex without the intimacy is simpler, but its still not something she views as a need.

10.do they prioritize pleasuring others or pleasuring themself?

.. neither f fdhfdk ok not true its just her sense of pleasure is derived from the power plays she can engage in within sex, or order others to engage in, rather than her own physicality if that makes sense. and as much as she enjoys watching others squirm, their pleasure is not her goal, her control over their pleasure is.

16.do they have any secret sexual fantasies? would they be able to tell someone about it?

her most intimate fantasy is touching and brushing the hair of a similarly outwardly cold woman (dont have a design for her finalized yet but she is an android in high position within a human pharma company who also leaks information to Thorne). she would never tell anyone.

[vancilocs]

vampire and wolf vampire and wolf and snake and spirit and snake and spirit and sna

1. Who most initiates PDA?

Silva comes to Makoto when there's a suitable moment, Makoto usually reciprocates

Both, they're always glued to each others' sides

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

Silva's a restless sleeper, Makoto tolerates it now

Mara had a bit of getting used to about Lowri's snakes around him

3. Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

Pretty steamy but there are tender moments too

Both in heaping helpings and also some Stabby and Dangerous

4. How did they first meet?

In an orphanage when Makoto was brought there as a toddler

Lowri was spying on Mara's cult and got caught by him

5. What is their love language?

Physical touch, quality time

All of them except gifts

6. When did they realize they loved each other?

Makoto doesn't do love, Silva accepted it pretty soon after they started hooking up

Pretty quickly, if you ask either of them it was on sight

7. Who is more sentimental?

Neither really is, they do remember the olden times but don't dwell

Lowri, she has a lot of memories and baggage tied to the castle they now live in, but Mara isn't far behind

8. What’s one way their personalities compliment one another?

Both are observers who like to stay out of the thick of it and just watch and follow what people do. They're nonchalant and street-smart.

Both are on the quiet side, but very observant and quick to act when prompted. Both are mistrustful but rely heavily on each other

9. How are their personalities different?

Silva has bravado and wit and a flair for the dramatics on occasion, also is more sarcastic, Makoto doesn't do theatrics like that

Mara thinks highly of himself and doesn't really care deeply about people he doesn't know, Lowri is more humble and sweeter to strangers too

10. What are some non-sexual activities they do together? 

Lay around, practice knives

Cook and eat, lounge and play with hair, try to kill each other, maintain gear, go on walks

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

Silva, but he makes sure it's a good moment and Makoto can reciprocate

Both are pretty equal

12. Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Neither too much, Silva a bit more because he loves it when a well-timed compliment flusters Makoto

Mara, but Lowri isn't far behind

13. Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

Makoto is too protective over his belongings for Silva to permanently keep anything, but he can wear a robe or something for a bit, that's fine

Lowri takes Mara's robes and such to lounge in, he doesn't fit in her clothes

14. Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

Makoto attends enough parties as Konoe's bodyguard so he will stay in. Silva happily keeps company

Fairly introverted, if they can they'll stay in

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Silva makes his decisions, none of Makoto's business

Mara is more willing to do some dangerous shit but Lowri and/or Angharad keep him in check

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

As a vampire Silva tends to go to bed at dawn, again, that's his business, none of Makoto's. He himself goes to bed early bc he also needs to get up early

Lowri tends to stay up late doing her rounds and sometimes Mara encourages her to go to bed

17. Who fell in love first?

Makoto's aromantic ass doesn't love at all

Both fell off a cliff immediately

19. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

Work work work work work, spend time with Kyoko

Maintain gear, practice knives, do reconnaissance, mope around, cry

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

Makoto is a petty bitch who will remember

Mara, won't act on it, will be bitchy

21. Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

Neither is quick to talk, Silva can come up with something to say much faster but it's not really Makoto's thing to talk so he'll listen

Mara is quicker to speak and offer his opinion, Lowri likes to hear others' opinions too before offering hers

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed?

Neither easily but Silva can fluster Makoto easier

Lowri, she's so eager to please that any pushback embarrasses her a bit

23. Who overthinks the most?

Makoto when going through event planning (Vasili has him beat in that though)

Lowri, she mainly just thinks rather than overthinks but sometimes she does that too

24. Which of the two is the most competitive?

Silva if either

Mara

25. Who’s the most stubborn?

Makoto, hands down

Mara also

26. How do they comfort each other?

Hang out, distract

Cuddle, kiss, give food, pet, do hair, anything

27. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

Swords and gear and fur makes Silva think of Makoto, nighttime and dank alleyways and bats and daggers make Makoto think of Silva

Snakes and knives for Mara, fur and knives for Lowri

28. Do they get along with each other’s friends and family?

Neither really has family to speak of, Makoto has his stepmom he's cordial with but Silva probably hasn't even met her. Makoto and Kyoko get along, they have cute banter, otherwise he keeps to himself and isn't familiar with Silva's contacts

Lowri's ancient and blind grandmother met Mara and figured that oh well, if she's happy that's fine. Lowri killed Mara's family members with his help

29. What is their sex life like?

Active enough for them both

Very active, rowdy and dangerous to outsiders

30. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

Neck and mouth for Silva, mouth for Makoto. Also Silva likes any spot where there's a big vein

Everywhere tbh, but Lowri kisses Mara on his neck and jaw and Mara kisses Lowri on her forehead

31. What’s the relationship like? Smooth? Rocky?

Very smooth, they've figured out exactly what fits them

Very smooth despite it looking scary sometimes

32. How do they resolve their arguments?

They agree to disagree and respect each others' opinion

They barely argue, but it's usually Mara being too aggressive at his job and Lowri needs to rein him in

33. Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

It's not something either struggles with, but if there's a bad dream then just snuggle up closer to the other one and cuddle it out, no words needed

Lowri has nightmares and also sleepwalk moments related to them, it used to scare Mara but now he just as gently as possible wakes her up or leads her back to bed until she's calm again

34. Do they give each other nicknames?

Not really

Anything deadly

36. How’d they meet each other’s families?

Most likely Silva saw Makoto exchanging a couple of words with an older woman at a party and casually asked who she was, and Makoto just said oh that's my old man's wife

Lowri brought Mara to her grandma, and Mara swapped bodies with Lowri so she could walk in to kill his family

37. What do they like the least about each other?

When Silva's raring to go after a party night and he's on the bed already naked and Makoto just has to do his long-ass ceremony of putting his swords and armor away. Bro just peel it off and get over here alreadyyyyyyy. Makoto also doesn't like if Silva sneaks up on him, especially if it's the end of the day and he's going home and a bat scares the shit out of him when he opens the door (Silva is welcome to go to Makoto's place, just let him know beforehand or make it clear he's there)

When Lowri is busy doing work and Mara isn't she'd rather he not beam "boobs in my mouth" into her head. Please. Later. Mara is more than willing to help Lowri shed, but would rather she asked than she just scratch her snakes on his horns without warning

40. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

Makoto, Silva's quick to smile around him but has to make some effort to make Makoto smile or god forbid laugh

Both are happy when the other is around.

[legorumii]

" And I am the idiot

with the painted face. "

╰╮SFW Alphabet , Nya Smith.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Nya isn't that affectionate, she tries to be, but she doesn't really do it well. She's more focused on training than actual affection. How she shows her affection is something that can only be described as an odd mix of awkwardness. She kinda likes PDA and she craves for affection behind closed doors.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Oh shit. Being her friend would be so awesome. She'll protect you from any villains or creeps, and she'll make sure you're safe and happy. She's like your bodyguard, she'll take care of you no matter what and you don't even have to do anything for her. How you two met was through her brother. He couldn't stop bragging to his sister about how cool you were that she had to see for herself. It was kind of sweet though. She really thought you were interesting and nice and a cool person. Now she has someone who she can train with :D!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She doesn't admit it openly but she LOVES cuddles. She can feel the warmth of your body pressed against hers as her head rests on your chest, the sound of your heart's steady rhythm lulling her to sleep. She is definitely the little spoon, she just loves when you hold her on one of her hard days. You make her feel protected and cared for like there’s nothing more that could ever go wrong in the world. There’s nothing better than holding her in your arms.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes, of course, she does. Saving Ninjago is stressful enough for her. She is also very good at cooking and cleaning. Coming home from work is like heaven, you come home to a clean house, food on the table, and your gorgeous girlfriend.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It really depends on who she dates. If they were rude to her in the relationship she wouldn't hesitate to break up with them but if they were nice to her. She would sit them down in the living room and calmly tell them that she's breaking up with them. Not after explaining why though. She's the type to still be friends with them after the breakup. Sometimes she'd give them time to think about it.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I'm sorry but she wouldn't do a commitment, she's the type to not do a promise she can't keep. Would take 5 or 4 years if she ever wanted to get married. She has trust issues (like her brother) so just give her time to REALLY open up to you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically she's really gentle and kind of timid. People mistake her as "mean" or "rude" but he's neither of those. She actually means well. Emotionally she's quite the opposite. She tries hard to keep people safe but she knows that no one is invincible. She has seen what happens when someone doesn't care about themselves. It's not pretty. It's heartbreaking. But she keeps trying anyway, even if she doesn't have much hope in herself.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She's kinda not a hugger, she hugs often but not all the time (unless it's Kai.) How she hugs though, that's different. She holds on tight and puts her face right into your shoulder. Her hugs are long some are short. Her hugs are strong and gentle in different ways.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Takes her a while to say I love you, she doesn't say "I love you" straight when you guys start dating. So give her a little time and she'll start saying it often.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

She gets super jealous, really jealous. She can't help but glare at the person who's flirting with her you. What she does when she's jealous is she'll go right up to the two of you and wrap her arms around your waist and tell the person who was flirting with you that you're taken.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Her kisses are gentle and soft like the sun shining on a spring day. She likes to give you those light little pecks, too. She loves kissing you on your cheeks because she thinks it makes your skin softer. Please kiss her on her forehead, she loves it, and reminds her of the time her mom use to kiss her forehead when she was little.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

She doesn't like them but she's really good with children surprisingly. She was always pretty good at it.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings spent with her are the most glorious of your days. You'll wake up with her snuggled up close to you or her giving you light kisses on both cheeks before she makes breakfast for you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights spent with Nya are like rain on the tin roof, always a little bit more than a drop or two at first, but then a torrent of water pouring over them. It's quiet in the house and the only noise is the television as you and Nya cuddle on the couch underneath some warm blankets.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

She waits a while to reveal and open up to you. When she does she tells you in a hushed tone. If she gets too emotional while telling you you'll tell her that everything is ok while kissing her and telling you to breathe. She likes it when people do things like that, so she does them more often. You can feel her smile against your lips as she lets out a shaky breath.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She isn't like her brother but she does get angry pretty fast. Not quite as quick as him though. She can hold a grudge for a little longer but not forever. She's just not good with patience and when someone crosses the line that is deemed unacceptable, she lashes out.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Oh, she remembers everything about you alright. The sound of your voice. The color of your eyes. Every last bit of your face, the curve of your cheeks, and the length of your lashes, every little thing about you. Everything is vivid in her head, like a movie playing out before her eyes. The colors, the sounds, the way you move, the way you laugh… everything about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Her favorite moment in your relationship is when you kiss her passionately. That's it. You'll kiss her and then she will melt into you like butter under the sun. That's how you know for sure that there's something between you two that isn't just a simple case of chemistry… because after all, that's what you're good at making people feel loved and appreciated like there's more than just the barest of strings connecting you two.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She's very protective, she'll protect you no matter what. And she would love it if you did the same. She wouldn't have it any other way, you know.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She puts in her all for dates, she wants them to be perfect. Just like you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Frustration is a bad habit of hers, and it's the last thing she needs.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Doesn't have any concerns with her looks, she knows she looks good. She doesn't care about other people's opinions about her.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Kinda? You were always there for her when no one else (except for Kai) was. So, she'll feel kinda incomplete without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Have none.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I don't think she would dislike anything in a s/o unless they keep her from training. Then she's all about it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

A sleep habit of hers is that she always wakes up early. It’s not like she doesn’t have other things to do. But she always has the urge to get ready for the day.

" In the corner

taking up space. "

all content belongs to @legorumii do not repost or translate on any writing website!

[chokemeanakin]

Misunderstandings - Anakin x fem Reader (angst +fluff)

Masterlist

Thank you for the request @artiza-n ! 💕

Wc: 6.4k

Summary: Anakin and reader get sent to Naboo to guard Padme and Clovis during a debate and some misunderstandings ensue. Mostly jealous angst, some fluff at the end— happy ending bc we all need that right now.

Gif from @swprequels​

“I still don’t understand why they need both of us,” you grumble, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you walk out of the cruiser. The day is hot on Naboo, but grey and cloudy with a promise of rain later. The humidity makes your skin sticky, worsening your irritation.

“Think of it as a vacation,” Anakin pulls the luggage from the transport cubby, setting it on the ground beside him. “You watch over Clovis, and I’ll handle Padme. It should be a breeze.”

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t understand why they need both of us.”

You had just gotten back from a long and grueling siege on Pontoon, another one of those vast, endless desert planets in the Outer Rims. You’d really much rather be sitting in front of an air cooler right now, resting your tired bones and trying to forget the taste of sand.

“These are two very important Senators, Y/n,” Anakin waved off your attempt to help him with the luggage. “If anything happens to them at this debate, the Senate will lose important advocates for peace and the end of this war.”

You knew this, of course you did. Not that you’d completely agree with his statement-- Clovis always seemed a little shady to you, his morals seemingly scattered all over the place. You guessed that’s why the Council sent you, a simple marksman, to guard Clovis while the beloved freedom-fighter Padme Amidala got the most powerful Jedi to ever exist. 

“Besides,” said Jedi nudged you, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

Of course you do. Between the war and separate guild or Council missions you’d both been sent on, neither of you had time to even breathe in the others’ direction for months. The only reason the Council was able to wrangle you onto this cruiser was because Anakin was going to be there. Not that you’d even be able to spend much time with him during the day, although you were aware that you’d be sharing a room in between the Senators you’d be protecting at night…

You and Anakin meet the Senators at the hull of the ship. They walk down the ramp side by side, heads held high and hands clasped in front of them. Their movements are smooth, like they’re gliding on water, and the heat doesn’t seem to bother either of them.

“Master Skywalker. Y/n. Thank you so much for being here, it is so courageous of the both of you to be looking out for us,” Padme stands before you, beautiful as ever in one of her many extravagant, expensive gowns. The headpiece woven through her hair sparkles in the midday light, the warmth of her eyes capturing the rays of the brilliant sun. “However, I must say that I hope your services are not needed. I’d much rather this debate go by smoothly than have any dangerous interruptions.”

“I can assure you, we’ll take care of any problems before they arrive. Leave the dirty work up to us,” Anakin returns her smile, charming as ever. 

Anakin shoots you a glance and then follows her away, carrying multiple bags of luggage in each arm as Padme shows him where to put it. For such a small woman, she seemed to pack heavy. Unfortunately, this leaves you and Clovis to stand alone together, an awkward stillness settling before you.

“Um, Anakin has your luggage,” you yawn into your arm, gesturing to his receding form with the other. “I’m Y/n, and I’ll be your bodyguard for this debate.”

“You?” Clovis doesn’t smile, instead he scans you up and down with hawkish eyes. “You’re such a small thing. What could you possibly be able to do to protect me?”

It’s not said unkindly, but it still irks you. Your eyes narrow and you bite back a nasty retaliation for the sake of diplomacy. “You’ll find I’m pretty good with a blaster. The best, actually, according to the Jedi Council. That’s why they have me work with the Generals in the war.”

“Are you a General yourself?” Clovis begins to walk, heading toward the senate building. You follow at his side.

“Not exactly. They offered me the title, but I declined. I’m more of a freelancer, and once the war ends, I’ll go back to taking odd jobs. Besides, there’s no use in having an army if I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Humble. That’s admirable,” Clovis’s mouth tilts into something of a smile. “I, myself, could never turn down an army. Or the status, for that matter. You could be holding a lot of power if you pushed your way with the Jedi Council, you know.”

“My way?” you questioned. “I just told you, I don’t have a way--”

“And that’s your flaw,” he mused, chin still pointed up, never quite looking at you. “How curious-- your Jedi counterpart seems to have stolen all the ambition.” 

You roll your eyes. You never had a thirst for power, or status, or influence, or any of that. Your power came from behind a blaster, when your focus was trained on a single target and your finger was glued to the trigger. One simple twitch of a muscle, and you could end a life from miles away. That was your power, and it was all you needed.

He is right about Anakin, you have to admit. He was always looking to be better, not just for himself, but for the good of others. You love that about it, in fact it’s one of your favorite qualities about him. Sometimes, though, you wished he could see that he didn’t have to try so hard all the time to believe he was enough.

The blast of cold air that hits you as you enter the senate building wrenches you out of your thoughts. It whisks away the perspiration that had built up on your skin, cooling your body and calming your mood almost magically. The sounds of your collective footsteps tap along the glossy marble floor, echoing throughout the empty chamber.

“Aren’t you going to ask what we’re doing here?” Clovis leans against his podium, marked with a nametag spelling his name. Next to him is your seat, and on Clovis’s other side is Padme, followed by Anakin on the end. A cold dread fills your veins, just now realizing how boring tonight’s debate is going to be.

You sigh inwardly, tracing the engravings of your nametag with the tip of your finger. “My job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to observe.” 

“Well, observe away,” he pushes himself off the podium. “Although I don’t think it will be very entertaining.”

He’s right. You sit in your seat, legs crossed on top of your podium as you inspect your nails. It’s been three hours since you’ve arrived, the sun is setting, and all Clovis has done is stroll around the debate room, muttering to himself and pondering through his position. You’re bored out of your mind. Pulling out your holocom, you wonder if Anakin’s situation is any better.

“Y/n?” he picks up a long moment after you send the call, and his face projects blue before you. It’s loud where he is, and his eyes are looking at something else.

“Where are you?” you question. He sounds like he’s a party, but you know that can’t be true. “Where’s Padme?”

“She’s with me,” Anakin tilts his head, signalling that she’s sitting in front of him. “We’re at a restaurant getting dinner. I was just going to ask-- did you and Clovis go somewhere to eat yet?”

You drop your legs from the podium and lean in close to the com, speaking quiet so Clovis can’t hear. “No, he’s barely said a word to me since we got here. He’s been walking around the debate room all afternoon, just talking to himself.”

“You think he’s nervous for tonight?”

“Maybe,” you spare a glance at him. He’s staring at the domed ceiling, as if he’s counting the pillars coming out of it. “Or maybe he’s just psycho.”

“Oh, Clovis knows what he’s doing,” a femine voice interjects. Anakin’s eyes shoot forward again, immediately smiling as Padme speaks. “His pre-debate ritual is long and gruelling-- I should have warned you. He’s simply getting into his headspace, that’s all.”

“How long does it usually take?” you mumble.

“It shouldn’t be much longer. Make sure he eats beforehand, otherwise he’ll be crabby during the debate. And trust me, you don’t want to have to handle a crabby Clovis.”

Both Padme and Anakin laugh at this, and you force yourself to smile along. “Yeah, I’ll go see what he’s up to now.”

“Good,” Anakin says, momentarily drowned out by an uproar of cheers behind him. “We should get going, too. Padme needs to get dressed for the debate. See you soon.”

Anakin ends the call, and you’re left wondering how exactly the topic of dressing Padme came up. 

Shoving down your irritation and self-pity, you pocket your com and stand from your seat. Clovis’s head whips toward you like you had pulled a blaster on him.

“What?”

“It’s getting late,” you stretch your arms over your head, working out the kinks and aches from sitting so long. “I was wondering if you were hungry at all.”

“I can’t eat before a debate,” Clovis looks almost angry for a second, and then he glances down at his watch. His expression smooths into one of urgency. “Ah, we should head to the apartments. It’s time to get ready.”

The night is still warm, and the sidewalk drips with a rainstorm that you missed while you were in the senate building. The fresh air is nice, though, and you breathe in the smell of sweet flowers and savory restaurant food. The grumble in your stomach is hard to ignore, but you know you’ll manage.

Clovis leads you all the way to his suite, the temporary apartment that sits in conjunction with yours and Anakin’s, and Padme’s on the other side. Staying in this apartment complex made more sense rather than finding separate housing units, as keeping everyone together would aid in ensuring their safety.

Padme’s mansion would have been a nice stay, you think, but these apartment sweets are also quite luxurious. You walk into the master bedroom to find a formal, dark blue gown laid out for you on the bed. Next to it is a rumpled space where you assume Anakin’s suit had been, but instead there’s a note and a box.

Padme wanted to get to the senate building early, so we’re probably going to just miss you. Too bad, I won’t get to help you into this sexy blue dress. Maybe I can help you out of it later.

You laugh softly, smoothing your thumb over the inked-on smiley face before finishing the note.

I’m not sure if you had time to get anything to eat, so I got you something while we were out. See you soon.

A

You don’t need an “I love you” scrawled into the paper in order to know he wanted to add it. That would have been too risky, and there was no way you’d be able to make an excuse if anyone were to find it. Still, you rip up the note and throw it in the trash before opening the box underneath. Your nose is instantly filled with the smell of food, still warm, and you sit next to the blue dress, digging in unceremoniously.

You scarf down as much of the food as you can and then store the rest in the fridge before getting to work on making yourself presentable. You have to look put together, yet not so much that you stand out. You slip a couple of silver clasps into your hair and do your makeup, opting for a bold lip color because you don’t have much time to do anything fancy with your eyes. You’re running short on time-- you know this because of the knock on your door, and then the irritated sound of Clovis:

“Y/n, we have to leave now or we’re going to be late. You know how bad it would be to arrive late to this event?”

You stand in front of the mirror, desperately reaching behind you to grasp at the zipper of your dress. It would be so much easier if Anakin was here to reach it for you, but you make due and quickly pull it up. The dress is form-fitting and flows down into a puddle around your feet. A bit long, as you opted not to wear heels in case something went awry, so you bunch the skirt up in your fists and jog to the door.

“My apologies,” you open the door to find Clovis, now dressed in a pristine black and white suit with his hair gelled back. “I was making sure I had my equipment all in order.”

Clovis ignores your excuse, eyes instantly moving to take in your figure. You could swear they blow open wide for a fraction of a second before he composes himself, clearing his throat and masking his approval with his usual grim expression.

“You clean up quite elegantly. Now, we should head to the lobby, the limousine is waiting for us.”

…

You’re not sure what the point of a limousine is, as the walk from the apartment buildings to the senate building is 10 minutes tops. Probably for formalities, you decide, as Clovis helps you out of the vehicle. The building that had been vacant only a couple hours earlier is now swarming with Senators, all dressed in lavish, extravagant gowns. Everyone is holding a flute of some sort of drink, and they congregate in small groups, making small talk before the debate starts. 

Clovis wastes no time with socializing, and beelines for his seat.

You hang back, searching the crowd for Anakin. Without heels, many people tower over you and it’s hard to focus with the deafening sound of chatter filling your ears. But you’re trained for this, have spent your whole life blocking out the unnecessary, so you hone into your patience and scan the crowd closer. 

There.

You’d recognize that head of golden-brown curls anywhere, even if it was tamed down for this event. He’s standing tall among the Senators, eyes gleaming bright as he engages a whole crowd of them in some wily story. He and Padme look at each other and laugh, his hand on her shoulder and her hand finding his waist. Your blood suddenly turns hot, and you push your way through the crowd to make it to them.

If you could, you would march right up and pull him away from all those greedy stares. They’re practically drooling all over him, and Padme’s hand is still on his waist. But you know better-- you can’t let anyone know you and Anakin are familiar, so you stand at the edge of the crowd, meeting Anakin’s eye.

You glare at his face, then at Padme’s hand, then back to him. His eyes narrow into a warning, extremely fleeting, and then he continues on charming the crowd. You know what he wanted to say-- it means nothing. It doesn’t stop the heat from blossoming in the pit of your stomach, the irritated glare you shoot Padme before looking down.

Way to stay under the radar, you think, slipping away from the crowd and deciding it’s better to keep your eyes on Clovis than get angry over a move on your boyfriend that was probably innocent. 

Clovis is sitting at his seat, still as stone, surveying the crowd before him.

“You nervous?” you take your seat beside him.

“Not at all.”

“Good. You’ve been preparing all afternoon, I think it’d be ridiculous if you still doubted yourself.”

“You… have faith in me.”

“Of course,” your eyes softened at the vulnerability in his statement. “You’re a powerful Senator.”

He huffed, the crack in his green eyes immediately cementing over. “I know.”

And, there he is. Back to being gruff and dismissive. 

It’s quiet for a moment longer, but you’re okay with that. Small talk is not an interest of yours either, and you’d much rather sip on the flute of drink that a servant had given you than join the crowd on the floor. 

Unfortunately, you have trouble wrenching your eyes away from Padme and Anakin, who are still surrounded by drooling Senators. Padme looks like an angel, dressed in a floor length gown spun out of gold thread that you’re pretty sure came directly from the sun. It shimmers and sparkles as she moves, standing out like a beacon of light among the rest of the room. She is radiant, with a matching headpiece that glitters like a chandelier, the jewels braided in and out of her chocolate curls. Even her makeup is minimal yet blindingly beautiful, with a gold shimmer staining her eyelids and cheekbones that reflect the warmth of her topaz eyes.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Clovis murmurs next to you, so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Who? Padme?”

“I believe she’s taking quite a liking to the Jedi.”

Heat sparks in your blood again. The fact that even Clovis notices how handsy Padme is being… then again, it’s a known fact that Clovis and Padme have a history, and he could just be reading too far into things out of jealousy.

“You shouldn’t call him that,” you choose to ignore his concerns. “Anyone could be listening.”

“You see that smile? That’s the smile she only ever gave me. I wonder if she even knows she’s doing it…”

“Clovis, Anakin isn’t allowed to form attachments. You have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not him that bothers me,” he admits. “It’s her. Look. Look at the way she leans into him when she laughs.”

You take his advice and… now that he says it, she does get a little too close for your liking. Every time Anakin finishes a punchline, the crowd erupts in laughter and Padme joins in, bracing herself by gripping onto his arms and grinning into his neck. He catches her, ever the gentlemen, but he’s smiling too.

It’s a little more than innocent, and you can’t tell who’s fault it is. But that doesn’t help the jealousy steadily rising in your chest.

“The debate should be starting soon,” is all you say, leaning back in your seat and scowling into your flute of drink.

The only thing keeping you rooted to the seat instead of launching out of your chair to rip Padme away from Anakin by the hair was the fact that you know you’re the one who’s going to be sharing a bed with him tonight-- not her. 

You’re just hoping he even makes it back to your bed. Or will poor Padme need help with something else that requires Anakin’s doting attention?

A bell rings just on time, signaling for the Senators to take their seats. Anakin leads Padme over, arms hooked around each other, and she smiles at you as she approaches.

“Y/n, you look wonderful,” she whispers, and then slides into the seat between Clovis and Anakin.

Your cheeks burn in shame. How can you harbor such awful feelings toward her when she was so sweet? But the anger is worsened by the compliment she had just given you-- it’s one thing to be drop-dead stunning, why does she have to be so kind, too? What are you to compare? 

After tonight, Anakin’s probably going to think you are so difficult-- always complaining, always tired, never as pretty or gentle or kind. You don’t have a laugh that twinkles like wind-chimes, or eyes that reflect the light like soft glowing pools of honey. If she is the sun, you are just a cold, hard, chunk of ashen moonrock.

The debate goes on for an eternity. You zone out for a lot of it, stewing in your anger and drowning in self-deprecating thoughts. A few times you’re brought to the brink of tears before you remind yourself you’re here on a mission, and throw yourself into scanning every nook and cranny for something that could be amiss. Eventually, a break is ordered.

Senators begin to rise from their podiums to stretch their legs, including Padme. She tells Anakin she’s going to the washroom, and your eyes zero in on the fingers lingering on his arm as she leaves. You stand as well, meaning to walk a little and stretch your legs, and Anakin follows you.

“Padme’s right,” he catches up to you easily. “You do look wonderful. Blue really is your color.”

You stop by the open window, breathing in the fresh air as you search his eyes for truth. Does he truly mean it? Does he look at you with that same light he had looked at Padme with? Or is he only saying it because he has to? Because he’s used to complimenting you because you’re his girlfriend?

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you lower your gaze, picking at the marble stone engravings of the windowsill. 

“Y/n,” Anakin lowers his voice. He’s concerned now, picking up on how upset you are. “I said you look beautiful. What’s the problem?” “No, you said I look wonderful. It’s different than beautiful.” You mean to leave it there, but  can’t help but add, grumbling under your breath, “Padme looks beautiful.”

It’s immature. You know it as soon as you say it, but for some reason you can’t stop yourself. You just want Anakin to take more notice of how strong Padme’s coming on to him, to assure you that it means nothing. You know it means nothing, but you still need that confirmation.

“She does,” he says, and your heart drops. You look up at him, and he’s staring back with an intensity you can’t decipher. “She’s a Senator, Y/n, this is her debate. Of course she has to look beautiful.”

“She’s more beautiful,” the words fall from your lips and taste like poison.

“What’s this about?” Anakin’s voice is dripping in irritation. Once hearing it himself, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he speaks again in a softer tone. “Why are you comparing yourself to Padme?”

Gah, even the sound of her name coming from his mouth is like nails on a chalkboard. But you decide to do the first smart thing you have all evening, and take a lesson from him. You breathe deeply and bite down on your anger before answering.

“I’m not trying to,” you admit, eyes falling from his face to trace the exposed skin of his neck. “I just-- she’s flirting with you.”

“It’s harmless.”

“I-- I know. But…”

“It still bothers you. You’re jealous.”

“I have nothing to be jealous about,” even saying this, you can hear the lie in your voice. You repeat the statement, more to yourself, trying to believe it. He’s yours-- for now. He could just as easily be Padme’s. What if he wants to be Padme’s? 

“Look,” Anakin takes another grounding breath, then fits a finger beneath your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “I can see you’re trying to think rationally, so I’m not going to tell you that you’re being ridiculous. But… you’re being ridiculous.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You have to understand, I do not like Padme like you’re thinking. I--” he cuts himself off, eyes flitting around the room before leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “I love you.”

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin, making you shiver. His lips ghosting over your ear, the whispered promise of his devotion to you… suddenly, you feel very stupid.

“Okay,” you accept, and the bells ring again, signalling everyone to take their seats. You head on over with him, but not before putting as much heart into your next words. “I’m sorry for getting jealous.”

“It’s okay,” he gives you the first warm smile of the night, smoothing your hair down quickly before breaking off to take his own seat.

You sit next to Clovis, considerably calmer, replaying Anakin’s whispered “I love you” over and over in your head, the touch of his gentle hand in your hair. There was no need to make such a fuss, and honestly you were upset with yourself for ruining the night. You decide to make another smart decision for the night, and push away all of the negative thoughts to the deepest corner of your mind. No more, not tonight-- instead, you would focus on a way to make it up to him for being so ridiculous, and to thank him for being so patient with you.

It’s as you’re planning the rest of your night out, that you see Clovis’s knee bouncing under the podium. You know his time to speak is coming up soon, and his actions betray his mind. He’s such a liar. He is nervous.

“You’ve got this,” you tell him, reaching onto the podium to give his hand a squeeze. His palms are clammy, and he looks at you like you’ve struck him.

“I know I do,” he spits, but doesn’t move his hand from underneath yours. “It’s just pre-performance jitters.”

His next words are so quiet, you almost don’t catch them.

“It doesn’t help that I have two gorgeous women sitting next to me to witness this all.”

Now it’s your turn to look like you’ve been struck. You know he means for you to hear it, otherwise he wouldn’t have said it. Anakin seems to be thinking the same thing, as you can see him give Clovis a sidelong glance just as Padme takes the seat between them again.

“I-- um… we’re rooting for you,” you fumble. “No need to get nervous now.”

Clovis blows out a long breath, and then covers your hand that’s squeezing his palm with his other. “Thank you, Y/n. You’ve truly been so patient and accommodating this whole night. I must find a way to pay you back afterwards.”

“Oh, there’s no need--” your words are cut off as the delegates call for order, and then the debate resumes. You don’t miss the way Anakin’s back stiffens in his seat.

Clovis works up a nervous sweat in the minutes leading up to his speech, but when he gets up, he delivers it without a flaw. Everyone claps, and then Padme goes. You clap along once she’s finished, trying not to calculate if Anakin is clapping harder or faster for her than anyone else. He’s not… but you just had to be sure.

There never seemed to be any threat for the entire night, except for one instance. A young man stood by the door, eyes shifting around for a moment too long to be casual, and Clovis seemed to notice as well. 

“Where, exactly, is that equipment you were speaking of earlier?”

“There’s a strap on my thigh, and it holds my blaster to it. Look,” you pull your skirt back to reveal your leg up to your thigh, where the tip of your blaster peaks out. “See, nothing to worry about.”

It doesn’t even cross your mind that Anakin would notice, or that he’d even mind.

Finally, the debate ends, and the senate room is dismissed. You let out a long breath, ready to just get out of this dress and relax in the suite with Anakin now. However, you stand to leave your seat but Clovis is in your way.

“Y/n, like I said before… I must show my gratitude for your services. Please, let me buy you dinner.”

“Oh-- Oh geez… um.... I can’t,” your eyes flit from Clovis to Anakin, who’s standing behind him. He’s got his back turned, bidding farewell to the new friends he made, but you know for sure that he’s listening. “I really need to go to bed, we’re leaving early in the morning.”

“You can come to my suite, we can order room service. They’re right next to each other… besides, you can always just stay over at mine for the night. There’s room.”

That tone. Those eyes. You know what he’s insinuating, and it sure as hell isn’t just dinner. 

“Clovis, I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The green cracks of his eyes are hardening again, the soft daisies growing from them being wrenched out in clenched fists and stomped under a boot. You want to stop them from freezing over in that insufferable ice again, and decide it might be nice to humor him for a job well done tonight. After all, he was a lot kinder to you than you thought he’d ever be, and part of you likes being one of the few people on his good side.

“How about I walk back with you to the apartments? We can do that much.”

Clovis smiles, and holds out an arm. “I’ll take it.”

As Clovis escorts you out of the debate room, you turn to look back at Anakin. He’s ushering Padme out of the crowds, staring after you as you leave. He doesn’t smile, or wave, or do anything really. Except look angry. 

A sudden ball of nervousness forms in the pit of your stomach. Oh no. Offering to do this was a mistake, that much is becoming clear with every step you take with Clovis latched onto your arm. You can feel Anakin’s eyes burning into your back the entire way out of the senate building, until you’re on the streets of Naboo and he’s off in a limousine with Padme. 

Of course he’s going to be angry at you now. You were mad at him for allowing Padme to flirt with him, and now he’s going to think you’re making a move on Clovis to get back at him for it. Even though that’s not at all what’s happening… Oh how the tables have turned. 

You’re jittery the whole walk back. Clovis tries to make conversation, but you only offer him short, clipped answers. Really, you should have shut down his advances in the debate room. No matter that you pitied him for being rejected by Padme and yourself, you should have said no. You didn’t owe him anything. But here you are, and now you are going to suffer the consequences from Anakin when you get back to your room.

“Are you sure you can’t stop in? Not even just for a drink?” Clovis asks as you make it to the top of the stairs. You turn the corner, and Anakin is leaning against your apartment door, arms crossed, clearly waiting for you. 

“Uhh,” you unwind your arm from around Clovis’s. “I really can’t. Sorry.”

Clovis follows your gaze, and sees Anakin. His tone turns steely. “Is it because of that Jedi?”

“No, oh my-- no!” you feign the most incredulous expression you can, nerves growing more frenzied as you grow closer to your apartment door. “I really am just so tired. Please Clovis, I have to go.”

“Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like this--”

“You’re right,” a deep voice cuts in. “It doesn’t.” 

Anakin takes the arm that Clovis refused to let go of, and slips it out of his grasp. Thankfully, for Clovis’s sake, he lets him. Anakin pushes you behind him and stands before Clovis, towering over him by a couple inches. 

“It was a pleasure serving you and Senator Amidala. Hopefully we can work together again soon. Have a good night”

Each word that comes from his lips are dripping with venom. Clovis grows red in the face, and you can tell he’s trying hard not to retaliate. In the end, he decides to turn and stalk back to his own apartment door. 

Once it slams shut, Anakin turns to you. You meet his eyes with the most innocent expression you can put on.

“None of that,” he hisses, and steps past you to walk into the apartment.

“Oh, come on!” you follow close behind, closing the door and jogging to catch up with him. He’s standing before the bed, roughly loosening his tie. “Anakin, please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Really? How am I supposed to believe that after what happened earlier?”

“Yes, okay, I admit I was jealous of you and Padme. But I got over it! I swear I wasn’t trying to get you back for it, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Anakin pulls the buttons off his shirt so hard, you’re afraid they might break. Suddenly, he is shirtless, and so very mad, and so very tall… and muscular… and… wow…

“You can’t even look me in the eye when you say that,” he argues, stopping to stand before you. You wrench your eyes away from his toned midriff and meet his eyes, which are blazing with hurt and anger. A warmth is rising in your veins-- a different kind than earlier-- but it’s beat out with something stronger. Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, trying so desperately to ignore the heat that’s radiating off his chest. “I really am. Clovis was just… kinder than I expected him to be--”

“Was he? Was he kind when he had you sit in silence all afternoon in the senate building? Was he kind when he refused to let you eat? When he guilt-tripped you into spending time with him?”

“That’s not exactly what happened,” you cross your arms and size him up. “And you’re not totally innocent either, you know.”

“Really?” Anakin cocks an eyebrow at you, sitting down on the bed roughly. He leans back on his arms, daring you to continue.

“You let Padme flirt with you, and you never told her to stop. You could have set some boundaries, told her to back off a little...”

“And you could have told me you were leaving with Clovis before gathering your skirts and skipping away,” Anakin bites back. 

“I wasn’t planning to! Anakin, please, both of us made mistakes tonight. Can we just agree on that?”

He frowns, eyes flickering over your still-dressed form. He motions for you to come closer and turn around, so you do. Gentle fingers work at the zip on your back, dragging it down to free you from the constraints. You remember the note he wrote from earlier, how he couldn’t wait to take the dress off of you, and grow disappointed at how the night had gone. This was not the context you had been expecting. 

The way his hands linger on your waist, you know he’s thinking the same thing.

“Okay. We both made mistakes.” You feel his soft curls against the bare skin of your back as rests his forehead against you. You hold your dress up in the front so as not to expose yourself. “I’m sorry for letting Padme flirt with me. I should have put an end to it-- I know it hurt you to watch.”

“It did,” you whisper. “But I’m also sorry. For getting so jealous even though you never accepted her advances, and for making it seem like I was trying to get revenge. It wasn’t my intention.”

A soft “it’s okay” is kissed into your back. His hands grip your waist, turning you in his grasp. He’s looking up at you now, hair mussed up and eyes wary. “You good?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

What were you guys doing? At the end of the day, it’s you and him. Padme is out of the picture, and so is Clovis. Everything is alright, and that fuss you both put up throughout the night was virtually pointless.

Looking into his eyes, the ones you love so much and could never picture yourself ever parting from, suddenly this whole thing seems elementary. How terrible, disastrous, and ironic this night turned out. Replaying the events in your head, you find a smile begin to crack at your lips. Anakin can’t keep a straight face either, the ridiculousness of it all beginning to catch up with you both. You begin to laugh, and he follows, burying his head in your stomach as you hug around his neck.

“We must be back in training school,” you giggle, feeling his shoulders shake beneath you. “How pathetic of us.”

“Ahh,” he groans, suddenly wrenching you off your feet and onto the bed on top of him. He nuzzles his face into your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible. “Let’s just forget this night ever happened. It was dreadful and embarrassing.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I was never even here.”

“Me neither,” he presses a line of warm kisses down your neck, stopping at the strap of your dress. “Let’s get this off. Do you still have your blaster on you?”

You pat the metal strapped onto your thigh. “Locked and loaded.”

“Well, gee, thanks for telling me. I definitely didn’t want to get my head blown off.”

“Safety’s on, wisecrack,” you help him shrug your dress off, kicking it from your legs and off the end of the bed. You unclasp the band from around your thigh and distribute the blaster onto the nightstand. 

“I’m the wisecrack,” you don’t miss the way Anakin’s voice deepens, attention suddenly captured by the bare skin of your body beneath him. His eyes follow the path his fingers are tracing up your leg. “Careful, or I’ll have to report that to the Council.”

“For what? Being right?”

“For creating conflict of interest on the job,” his fingers skim the soft flesh of your upper thighs, tickling their way past the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, up and up and up… “It’s terribly naughty of you.”

His words are teasing and corny, but somehow the deeper insinuation of them still cause your cheeks to burn red. 

“Anakin,” your voice is hoarse, causing your blush to deepen. His long fingers cup your chin, keeping your lips ghost over his as his other hand pulls the silver clasps from your hair. “I need a shower.”

“I can meet you in there?”

You clutch at his shoulders, bringing him forward to close that gap between your lips. His mouth is warm against yours, pliant and soft and generous. It’s everything you’ve been yearning for all night, all this time you’ve been apart. The smell of him, taste of him, feel of him— you could never get enough. 

“I’ll save you a spot.” 

[hueningkoi]

In honor of Murdy's first birthday tomorrow I'm gonna info dump about my oc's. Yolo. Long post ahead lol feel free to scroll past 😅

Oldest sibling on the left is 31 yr old Murdy Pine of course they are a lil wild card energetic and obnoxious pansexual nonbinary he/they and acts like the youngest. Gets into A LOT of trouble. Always seems to have new clothes and buys people things for them but neither Zed or Mo have any idea what Murdy does for a living. He disappears a lot and comes back suspiciously overly cheerful. Has a concerning neck scar and missing part of his left ear and they come up with a different ridiculous story about what happened everytime it comes up. The last story he told he said he he lost his ear during a poker game with one of the k*ardashian's bodyguards. Murdy got "caught cheating" and the guy lost it and "went all mike tyson on my ass." No one believes them.

Murdy's younger brother is Zed Pine in the pic in the middle. He is an Edgelord. Angsty little 26 yr old. He is really athletic and loves to play sports but he is also not social or extroverted at all but for some reason attracts jocky social butterfly dude bros all the time? He goes to the gym and everyone there loves him even tho he barely says anything to them? He has been adopted by his entire local gym and he doesnt know what to do about it Murdy help him please. He also is an insomniac and seems like he never sleeps and is a long suffering younger brother to a ball of chaos named Murdy Pine. He's also asexual or demisexual he doesn't know all he knows is he can't be bothered with all that but sometimes the guys at the gym look sorta nice to him physically? Maybe? Meh. Whatever. *pulls his pokemon game out and ignores you*

Mo Pine in the drawing on the right is their younger cousin she's 17 and she tries hard to be a tough person but is such a cinnamon roll underneath. She is like Murdy and Zeds unnofficial little sister even though she's always the one telling Murdy to drink some freakin water and Zed to go THE HELL TO SLEEP Or she'll kick their asses which they know she never will because she learned that she can't throw a punch to save her life. She's not allowed to cook because she'll set the kitchen on fire. She is clumsy on her feet and can and will trip and fall on literally nothing. The ground loves her. She's tired of skinning her hands from falling so. The gloves. Also she's probably not gay right? Murdy always makes hints about it and she's not dumb she knows what they are getting at but like... Yesterday this girl at the Cafe winked at her and Mo ran into a table and knocked the napkin dispenser off and she was so embarrassed she couldn't look at cafe girl but thats just probably because she's clumsy and embarassed herself and not because that girl had the cutest freckles and made her stomach flip and... well it's whatever.

They all are very close and would die for each other but they all also bug each other so much and would not hesitate to tackle one another to the ground at a moments notice. Classic sibling behavior. Mo and Zed think Murdy is secretly an assassin or a spy or something and they get together once a week and play videos games and talk about what the hell Murdy DOES for a living. There is a folder they've been filling up. It's their project.

Murdy likes to plan surprise birthday parties for Mo and Zed at the most batshit times of the year no where NEAR thier birthdays and even if it's weird and out of nowhere they are always THE BEST PARTIES EVER.

A classmate made fun of Mo for falling going up the stairs at her school and she acted like it didn't hurt her feelings but it did and Murdy was furious. The next day the stairs were missing like completely torn out and the girl who made fun of her was hysterical saying that there was an entire giant pile of destroyed crumbled cement in her living room this morning and her parents were furious and confused and called the police but no one knows how it got there at all still and the school is working on fixing the stairs immediately because they also got an anonymous envelope with a pineapple sticker on it with a donation of money to fix the stairs and a note that said "sorry got a little upset and carried away. Kowabunga brother." Mo is very confused but it kind of made her day.

[barnesandco]

Little Hands (VI)

Series Masterlist

You and Ana cope with the aftermath of Bucky’s arrest.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021. Word count: 1145. Square filled: “Natasha Romanoff”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Sad Child. Mild angst. Discussion of feelings. 

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. That is all. Please enjoy.

Steve’s Brooklyn brownstone is well-equipped and roomy; you suppose it has to be to be accommodate him and his four teenagers, as well as a number of Avengers, what with their mi casa es su casa tendencies. It feels empty right now, though, with just you and Steve and Anastasia in the kitchen, the weight of Bucky’s arrest in the air.

It's quiet in a way a house full of kids never should be, and you know Steve’s sent them away with instructions to give you privacy. Before the last of them left, though – Zoya, pretending there weren’t any tears in her eyes – she left Anastasia a bag of toys. Ana sits on the floor by the counter with the wooden building blocks spread out before her.

You focus your mind back onto what Steve is saying.

“…they’re saying they found Bucky’s fingerprints and hair on the scene. We think Zola is framing him. He would have had access to Bucky’s biometrics and samples of hair from when Zola was with Hydra.” Steve’s perceptive eyes are constantly searching you for any sign that you want to ask for help, for relief, for consolation.

You set your shoulders. “How are you going to prove his innocence? They have pretty solid evidence.”

“He’s innocent. That’s the truth,” Steve says, determined. “That’s going to set him free.”

You don’t say, it has to.

-----

Dinner is a sombre affair. The kids lay the table, quiet as mice, all of them, as Steve brings the lasagne out of the oven. Natasha is visiting in both aunt and bodyguard capacities and has brought tequeños from the small restaurant owned by the Venezuelan-American family on the corner.

You watch her carefully because her situation is so easily comparable to yours. Neither of you have much experience with children, but when thrown into interacting with them, you’ve both improvised well. As has Bucky, you suppose, with a pang of hurt. Natasha’s smiles are rare and bright around her godchildren, and you watch her gaze return repeatedly to Ana where she sits beside you.

At least Ana is safe, you think, as you know Bucky must have repeatedly in the past couple of days, right up to the moment of his arrest.

-----

When you sleep, you dream. And when you dream, you worry. Eventually, you stop twisting and turning on the mattress and leave the bedroom. The bottom step at the stairs creaks dangerously loud. From the windows in the kitchen, it looks like the backyard is empty, but stepping on to the porch finds you company. Redheaded company, and not just the Black Widow kind.

Natasha is sitting with her arm around Hannah, Steve’s second-youngest, a girl with auburn braids the length of her spine and tears tumbling down her round cheeks. You begin to turn and leave them to it, when Hannah calls out, “it’s okay. Please stay.”

“Yeah, join our pity party,” Nat encourages with a sarcastic but sad smile, and so you sit on the steps.

This silence is different from the one in the house earlier today, with Steve or at dinner. This is grief and hope, and faith beyond belief. None of you know what to expect, and how could you? These are thoughts that cannot be expressed, and so you can only sit with them. Sometimes, all there is to do is wait.

The sky is clear tonight, and the stars wink brighter than they have any right to, and you wonder if Bucky can see them from where he is. Probably not. It’s a damn shame. He loves stargazing.

“Uncle Bucky loves astronomy,” Hannah says in a small voice, and you smile. Bucky’s told you a lot about her, and his other godchildren. He’s so proud of them, so happy for them. “But then, you probably know that.” As he should be. Sharp as knives, the lot of them. “You seem close. He talks about you a lot.”

Oh no. Is this the if you hurt him we’ll kill you talk? Are you really having that conversation now? You try not to let the dread show when you look at Hannah, and see the loose smirk on Nat’s mouth. It looks unnatural above her soft, purple sweatshirt. Don’t worry, she mouths behind Hannah’s head. You try not to.

“I hope they’re all good things.”

Hannah laughs. “You might as well have hung the moon and all the stars. He looks at you the way Aunt Nat looks at—mphhh” Nat’s hand covers Hannah’s mouth until Hannah promises – with vague hand gestures – not to tell. When Nat lets go, all three of you laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

“I don’t know about the moon and stars,” you begin, after things have settled down. You look at the moon, think about blue eyes and calm nights on the roof. “I care about him. So much that it scares me. I just want everything to be alright.” It’s a childish confession, and you allow it to yourself knowing that your present company won’t judge you for it. You’re sure that inside, you all feel the same.

The heart has many chambers, but one of them always wants just that one thing: safety. Somewhere to call home. And if you can, you’ll give that to Bucky, and with time, you think you can learn to do the same for Anastasia.

“He has to come back. For Ana,” you say, and Hannah nods solemnly.

Nat looks on, with approval. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”

“And Aunt Nat doesn’t make promises lightly.”

“I am from Russia. We people of our word,” Nat jokes in a heavy accent, before dropping it entirely. “He’s going to be fine. We have a plan, and it’s going to work.”

Again, you think, it has to.

-----

Steve storms into your room with an apologetic expression at odds with the ferocity with which he entered and says, “We need to get you out of here.”

You can only say, “Ana—” before he says Nat’s bringing her down. You have just enough time to put on a dressing gown before you’re unceremoniously escorted out in a rush. The Rogers children are with you, and you’re split into two groups, one in each armored vehicle out of place on a suburban street like this.

In the end, it’s too late. Not too late to get you out, because the tires screech and you’re off. But it’s too late to get you out before you catch a glimpse of what you’re running from. A man in black leather, weaponry everywhere. It’s Bucky, only it’s not Bucky at all.

It's the Winter Soldier, you think, as you leave him in the dust. It isn’t until later that you realize Ana has been weeping silently in fear, and you clutch her as tight as you can. Now what?

[pride-moth]

You got everything that I want

Ao3 Link

Stolas can’t recall a time where “love” wasn’t synonymous with “pain” for him. 

He had loved Stella at some point, in his own weird way. Yes, it was an arranged marriage, but he had been willing to make it work like so many royal couples had made it work before them. He admired her beauty, her strength, her force of personality. He wanted to love her and so he did. He loved her as his wife, his princess, the mother to their daughter. He really… He had tried, at one point.

But after years and years of trying and compromising and acquiescing to your partner’s every wish without ever feeling them try in turn. Getting up every night to care for the child that both of you put into the world but that only one of you really cares to pay any meaningful attention to… It gets tiring and slowly, surely, all the love you once had for your partner slips through your fingers until there’s nothing left. Nothing but regret and screaming and pain.

He loves Octavia so, so fiercely. He would do anything for her, and yet he can hardly seem to be able to make her smile. And that’s the greatest pain. When you want nothing more than to see your child happy and you would do anything to make it happen, but it’s not in your hands anymore. Octavia is still a teenager but she’s growing up, wanting to do her own thing, starting to live her own life and Stolas feels like the only thing that he could do to make her happy would be to stop fighting with Stella, and that is just not within his powers. Stella will always find something to blame him for and he will always find something new to do wrong. 

When Blitzo enters the picture, he and Stella already haven’t been sleeping in the same bed longer than he cares to remember. It’s a night of weakness, that first one, one where all he wants is to not live his own life anymore and Blitzo, that handsome little imp, catches him off guard, pokes right into his vulnerabilities and Stolas can’t help but take him home, sneak him in and let himself be taken apart in a way he has never experienced.  

It’s a magical night, not romantic, but raw and rough and brutal in the best way. Blitzo makes him hurt exactly how he likes to hurt, gives him the kind of pleasure he could never quite convince Stella into giving him. They don’t even know each other at that point, but there is the kind blind understanding between them that Stolas always wanted to happen between him and Stella, but it never did.

Stolas is almost grateful when he realizes Blitzo has taken his grimoire with him. It’s an easy reason to stay in contact, an easy excuse to call him, set meetings, work out an exchange and get more of what Blitzo gave him that first night. 

With Blitzo, it’s not love. So, there’s no pain. Stolas doesn’t let there be pain, at least not emotionally, the physical pain is something he quite enjoys. When Blitzo leaves after their monthly night together, he doesn’t allow himself to feel pain, only anticipation of the next time. He likes that there’s always a next time, even though that’s because of his active incentive more than anything else. But that’s alright, he doesn’t want Blitzo to come see him without an incentive. He deserves favors in turn for what he’s giving Stolas. 

He enjoys Blitzo’s company in general. He’s funny, quick-witted, intelligent and he handles him with an ease that in any other situation would be seen as lèse-majesté for an imp. And maybe that’s what appeals to Stolas about spending time with Blitzo. That he can be himself, doesn’t have to adhere to the vague behavioral standards of royal life. He can be vulgar around him, and a blubbering mess sometimes, Blitzo doesn’t mind him being angry or frustrated or stupid, he can just… Be. 

So, sometimes he’ll find an excuse to spend time with Blitzo outside of the bedroom. To just be. Because it doesn’t affect their normal arrangement and it’s better than spending time alone in that grand, beautiful, empty palace with a wife who wants his head chopped off and a daughter who makes him responsible for it. Maybe he is responsible for it, he thinks, but that doesn’t change anything, does it?

When he takes Octavia to Loo Loo Land, he wants Blitzo there as his bodyguard, not because he necessarily needs protection, but just because… He wants him there. Around. As company. Because Blitzo is good like that. And he likes watching him fully in his element because Blitzo handles his rifle with the same deft touch and confidence as he handles Stolas and that’s beautiful in a way. 

When Octavia tells them to get a room, it throws him off a little because he didn’t mean to get carried away like that. He truly wanted it to be a father-daughter day, Blitzo and his employees and incidental part of the equation, but he can’t really take his eyes off Blitzo when he’s being all professional and handsome and, God, maybe this was a bad idea to begin with. 

That day ends with him finding Octavia crying and she asks if he wants to run off with Blitzo and that’s… Well, he can’t fault her for getting the wrong idea. Obviously she doesn’t know that it’s just sex between them. She’s just met a man who Stolas is very clearly flirting with constantly, so obviously that would look romantic. But he would never run off with him, it’s not like that. There’s no love between them, only a deal, good sex and good company. 

There’s a little thought spinning around in his head after the whole Loo Loo Land incident that he doesn’t dare act upon for a good while, but it persists. All he needed to do to convince Blitzo to come with him was offer him money. So, maybe, just maybe, if he found himself desiring his company outside of their arrangement, he could just… 

“I’m not a hooker,” Blitzo says sharply when he tries it one day during a phone call. 

“But I usually pay you by letting you use the book,” Stolas tries, not entirely sure why he tries breaking through the metaphorical door that has just been quite clearly slammed shut right in front of face. 

“That’s different! That’s-” Blitzo lets out a frustrated sigh at the end of the line. “Just don’t try that.” 

“But-” 

“Shut it, Stolas, I said no. Just because you’re a Prince or whatever doesn’t mean you can get everything you want by waving some money around.” 

It stings a little, that comment. He didn’t mean to… He didn’t attempt to… Maybe he did. Blitzo said no, so that’s that. No reason to get hung up about it. So, he won’t see him before the full moon. That’s okay. No pain, not about Blitzo. And if he needs to exert some force to make a smile appear on his face, that’s just because he can hear Stella throwing utensils in the kitchen again. 

“No trouble at all, I didn’t mean to offend, my dear Blitzy. See you next full moon,” he says then in his usual blib tone. 

Blitzo hangs up on him after mumbling something about offending his asshole. 

Sometime after that, Blitzo starts sharing cigarettes with him. It’s a little thing that he doesn’t think much of the first time it happens. Blitzo just kind of offers it to him one time, wordlessly and Stolas takes it and that’s that. It’s a little gesture of familiarity that neither of them comment on, but they keep doing it from then on. He starts buying the good expensive cigarettes and keeping them in the nightstand just for that little ritual.

Stolas would never admit to himself that he has a little cruel streak. “Friendly” is his default mode of presentation even if that sometimes gets him weird looks, it being hell and all. But he still grew up here, he still knows how the game is played and he still knows how to hit people where it hurts. 

So, when Stella keeps yelling at him not just about how he cheated on her, though that certainly seems to be some part of her grievance with him, not about how he’s brought the false harmony of their home into jeopardy, not about how their daughter feels about the whole thing, but about how it looks bad that he’s having sex with an imp, how that’s undignified. 

“Should I have used one of your fancy dinner party friends instead?!” he yells back at her one day and she just throws another saucer at him.

“At least that would have been a proper magazine scandal instead of the semi-public embarrassment I got!” 

And that’s where he can’t handle it anymore. He leaves her alone in the kitchen to scream at the walls because frankly, what left is there to say? She wants a magazine scandal, huh? Sure. She can have a magazine scandal. 

Stolas feels nervous when he has to ask Blitzo to come over early, but to his surprise, it’s no problem at all. 

“Is that in addition to our regularly scheduled fucking or a substitute?” is the only question he asks and when Stolas answers, “Substitute” he’s happy with it. 

It’s one of their best nights yet, Blitzo ties him up so good he can’t move an inch and he fucks him and he teases him with a passion that feels entirely new. Blitzo usually isn’t one to tease, he likes getting to the point, but tonight is different, tonight he takes his time and Stolas is pudding in his fingers. 

There’s warmth afterwards, just everywhere. His entire body feels warm and muted and content. And for just a moment, there is pain. And normally he can just wish it away, replace it with excitement for the next time they meet, but this time, he feels the distinct pain of not being able to experience this kind of pleasure whenever he wants. He wants to feel exactly like this, warm and exhausted and content, all the time. But he can’t.

It takes real force this time, but he shoves the thought away. He can focus on getting Stella the big scandal she so craves, and he can kill two birds with one stone here. Not literally.

He invites Blitzo to the Harvest Moon Festival. That’s easy enough, get them out together, have him and Blitzo be in one place together in public. That’s both step one of his barely thought out plan and also another way to spend time with Blitzo which is something he needs desperately. Anything to get him out of this palace, out of the endless screaming matches with his wife. 

And then, he makes it his personal goal to be as obnoxious as possible. Blitzo calls him obnoxious all the time, that’s nothing new, but he can do one better, make sure everyone knows what they’re doing, knows exactly that the great Prince of Hell is consorting with an imp. He wants Stella to look at media coverage of the Harvest Moon Festival and be absolutely furious about it. She wanted this. 

And it’s genuinely exciting, too, watching Blitzo compete in the Games, dominating the competition except for that weird snake man who he eventually shares a title with. Truth is, Stolas doesn’t really need to try very hard to cheer Blitzo on, part of him wants to just shout from the mountaintops how cool and powerful and handsome he is and how well he’s doing. 

To his disappointment, he can’t catch Blitzo after the festival. He’s suddenly gone after the trophy ceremony and is nowhere to be seen for the rest of the day. He leaves him a suggestive voicemail, saying he would love to see Blitzo as soon as possible, but if Blitzo doesn’t feel like it, he’s simply looking forward to the next full moon. 

He learns only via Stella’s highly unsubtle phone calls at the dinner table that there was an attempt on life that day. He doesn’t know for sure, Blitzo hasn’t told him, but he suspects that his little imp probably had something to do with it not succeeding and that’s just delicious, isn’t it? That the reason for Stella’s wrath would be the one to thwart her plans? He smiles at himself.  

It’s a week later that Blitzo appears on his balcony without a warning one night, sweating and nervous and completely unlike himself. Stolas practically jumps up from his bed and rushes over to him, pulling him into a hug almost automatically. To his surprise, Blitzo allows it. 

“What’s going on, Blitzy?” he asks softly. 

Blitzo takes a shaky breath and Stolas notices several bruises on his arms. “I just… I needed to… You’re okay.” It comes out shaky and incoherent but Stolas only hugs him tighter. “You’re kind of squeezing me to death,” Blitzo croaks then and lets out a small groan that makes him sound a bit more like himself. 

Stolas lets a bit looser. “Come in, tell me what happened, I’ll call for some tea,” he says as he leads Blitzo inside. 

Blitzo chuckles joylessly. “It’s insane how different shit is for you, you know that? You can just ask for tea and someone will bring it to you. Anything you lift your own finger for, you do of your own volition. Nobody makes you do anything. Unimaginable.” 

Stolas doesn’t have an answer to that. It’s true, kind of self-evidently so. He hasn’t even taken up the house phone yet and a servant is already knocking at the door to offer tea. He takes with a curt “thank you” and hands Blitzo his cup. Slowly they sit down on the bed, arms resting against each other comfortably. 

“You know they’re just like me, right? The servants you order around here all day?” Blitzo’s voice sounds hollow, distant. It’s disconcerting to say the least. 

“Well, I suppose you’re all imps, but you… you’re special.” 

“What if I don’t want to be? What if I want to be just like everyone else and just be… left alone with all the bullshit that comes with being ‘special’? What if I don’t want other assassins to come and try to talk me out of my job and how I do it, what if I don’t want to be the ‘only good one’ for people who’d just trample all over me if they hadn’t randomly decided that I was special, what if…” 

“Blitzy, what’s going on? Do you not want to come here anymore? We can… We can stop if you want to. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to, I can just leave you the book and you give it back when I need it and-” 

“Goddammit, Stolas, that’s not it, I just… Striker just came to my office and he just doesn’t leave me alone and we fought and he… Stolas, he won’t stop before he has your head and I can’t… I can’t guarantee that I can always be there to stop him.” Blitzo doesn’t look up at him, he just keeps staring directly into his tea cup. 

“Oh, Blitzy, it’ll all work itself out, everything will be okay,” Stolas says softly, tenderly caressing Blitzo’s back, but his hand quickly slapped away. 

“Are you actually serious right now?!” Blitzo looks at him now, angry, yes, but also very obviously hurt. “This guy is after you. And he’s good. I’ve stopped him once, I’ll do it again, but what if he comes here while I’m in the living world? What if I’m caught in some argument with Moxxie?”

“You don’t have to look after me, Blitzy, I’ll be okay, I promise.” Stolas takes a deep breath then, unsure of his next words. “Plus, if I wasn’t here anymore, you could just take my grimoire and run, isn’t that what you want?” 

Blitzo just stares at him, one, two, three seconds. “It sure would be easier,” he says then, pensively, “But I- Well. It’s just that… You know how it is, I don’t want to be responsible for the whole power vacuum that would come with your death and it’s not my style… I don’t know, I just don’t want you dead.” 

Stolas can’t help but smile at him. “Oh, Blitzy, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

And finally Bitzo laughs again. Stolas so loves seeing him laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ve also told you that you’re my pretty little bitch and you have a nice dick and beautiful tight little asshole and you’re probably the only really good sub I’ve ever had.” 

Stolas pulls him into his arms, letting Blitzo lean against him and rests his chin on one of his horns. “I’m not going to die, Blitzy, not as long as you’re here. I would never forgive myself if I left you alone. I promise you, I… I can look after myself.” 

Blitzo sighs. He opens his mouth to speak a few times, but ultimately stays silent. 

They just sit there for minutes, silently embracing and Stolas doesn’t know what to do with that. It hurts. It hurts to hold Blitzo like that, to see him vulnerable and worried for him. It feels good to be with him, to have him be here. It’s warm and familiar and it feels natural, but it’s so, so painful. 

“Blitzy?” Stolas breaks the silence finally. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.” 

Blitzo doesn’t look up at him, but he nods. “I know where this is going,” he says, half-ironically but there’s no bite to it tonight. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Stolas whispers, “I’m sorry.” 

“Please, you’ve been head over heels in love with me since we first met,” Blitzo retorts but there’s no bite to it. It’s less a brag or a dig than a simple observation. 

“I didn’t mean to, I just… I don’t want it to be like this, we have a good thing here and I don’t… I don’t want to make it all complicated and painful.” 

Blitzo sighs again, but it’s a soft little sound, punctuated with a little laugh. “Stolas, you’re Goetic royalty doing completely shameless BDSM shit with an imp, it’s already complicated and painful.” 

“No, I mean-” he looks at one of the paintings of him and Stella and Octavia, Blitzo follows his gaze, “I don’t want it to hurt like this again. Love always… It always hurts.” 

 Blitzo shrugs. “I don’t think it does. Fights and drifting apart and break ups hurt. Love itself can be fun. It’s just… hard sometimes.” 

Stolas supposes that’s true. But still, is it really worth starting something when you know the end is inevitably going to be painful? And how would that even work, between them? Sure, teasing the press with an affair is one thing, but he can’t make it official. That would go beyond the realms of gossip and annoying his wife. That could potentially jeopardize his entire position and- 

“Christ, you’re overthinking like crazy right now, I can practically hear you,” Blitzo breaks his train of thought. “Nothing has to change here. We have sex, we hang out sometimes, we do movie nights, I know your daughter, we’re already in more of a relationship than you and your wife.” 

And that strikes Stolas like lightning. “You-? You feel the same?” he asks in utter disbelief. 

“You stupid fucking bird, of course I do: You think I would have passed up and opportunity to get the book without fucking you otherwise?” 

“I mean, yes, you could have just saved my life as a friend, I suppose.”

Blitzo shakes his head and grins at him. “I usually don’t fuck my friends. Nine times out of ten, I would like to, sure, but I still usually don’t. And, I sure as fuck didn’t want that either, but here we are and I literally gunned it from Imp City to here just to make sure you were still alive after I beat up Striker again and I… I think this,” he gestures between them, “is good. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever tolerated anyone that long, so… Count yourself lucky.”

Stolas smiles, as wide as he can and then he kisses him, tenderly, softly, chastely, like they never do and that seals it in a way. And for the first time in centuries, he doesn’t think about the pain that love can bring, he just thinks that holding Blitzo in his arms and kissing him feels good and he wants to keep feeling that good, so all the pain along the way, all the shit they might get into for it, might be worth it, in the end. So he pulls Blitzo a bit closer and deepens their kiss, losing himself completely in the warmth between them. 

[bitterepiphany]

the bodyguard situation

archive of our own

@zuzusexytiems enjoy ;))

ooh also partly inspired by @amy-r-k's aa first kiss hc <3<3

warning: contains spoilers for 139

If somebody had told her during her days in the Southern Training Corps that Armin Arlert would become the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps, Annie would have scoffed in their face. There would be no way in hell that a boy that soft and weak, a boy that struggled to even complete the Training Corps program, would become the leader of by far the most dangerous branch of military here on this island.

But times had changed. Times had changed so drastically, so mind-bendingly, that Annie almost longed for those days, those simple days when the only troubles worrying her mind was the location of the Founder, and the guilt over all the destruction they had wrought on the people within the walls. Funny, how something so enormous could become so simple in hindsight.

Something hadn’t changed, though, in Annie’s world. It surprised her sometimes, how much she had come to rely on that soft and weak boy from training, how just the sound of his voice could ground her, reminding her of all the years she spent in that crystal with only his and Hitch’s words to keep her sane.

Things had happened slowly, softly. There was so much aftermath to deal with, so much death, destruction, and fear to manage, that for at least the first year after Eren’s death, they barely had time for one another. Fragile, temporary stalemates disguised as peace were made between surviving humanity and those of Paradis, and work began to salvage and rebuild what was flattened.

Armin had been forced to take up his role as the new Commander, and for a period of time, stood at a similar rank to Historia as the only surviving military leader after the rest had been turned into titans and subsequently killed. While Historia stayed on Paradis, Armin and their surviving group - Annie, Reiner, Connie, Jean, and Pieck - who were dubbed, ‘The Heroes of Paradis’, stayed in Marley, negotiating with their surviving leaders and helping the cleanup and rebuild effort. Levi remained in Marley to recover from his injuries with their more advanced technology, and Mikasa chose not to go with them, opting to instead retire from military work to instead mourn her loss in peace.

But after things had settled (or as settled as they could be after eighty percent of the world was crushed), the unresolved tension between them couldn’t be ignored through their various distractions anymore. From lingering looks, hands brushing each other for a little longer than it to be accidental, and making constant, see-through excuses - if the looks Pieck and Jean gave were any indication - to spend time with each other, it became almost unbearable for Annie. She began to think about his confession on the boat on a daily basis, thinking it over. What if he didn’t feel that way anymore? What if he realised that she was a monster, and that she didn’t deserve someone as good as he was? What if - and this thought made Annie feel physically sick - he found another girl, and she was everything Annie couldn’t be?

It was only after Pieck had cornered her after she was caught staring openly at him for the umpteenth time that she sucked it up and decided she would confront these feelings. That was, until an incident on Paradis where a group of rogue Jeagerists decided that the current Commander of the Survey Corps needed to be replaced.

Now, it was known to those that knew him through training and the subsequent years that Armin didn’t excel physically. Though he had improved and filled out into himself in the years since he inherited the Colossal Titan, he would never reach the prowess of his other male comrades like Reiner, Jean, Connie, or Eren.

Though this information was never made ‘public’, it must have gotten out somewhere, and during an orientation for some new Scouts that Armin was overseeing, a group of young men broke away from the group and rushed him. Luckily, Armin was quick to react and defended himself until they almost overwhelmed him, but at that point, Jean and Connie reacted and dragged the attackers off him. Annie herself wasn’t with the group when it happened, instead away with Reiner discussing Marley things with Historia, but when she was notified of it, she was furious. Needless to say, the decision to give Armin a constant guard was non-negotiable, and it became clear to everyone else who wasn’t budging on being the one for the job.

Armin tried to protest the decision, saying he didn’t need a ‘babysitter’, but one look from Annie shut him up pretty quickly. He did confide to her later that he was grateful she was doing it, instead of some upstart young Scout, or even one of the boys in their group, claiming that they could become a bit suffocating in their insistence that he couldn’t defend himself at all.

The words left unsaid between them seemed to take a backseat as they now spent basically all their time together. Armin let his guard down around her, and she had to admit to herself that she couldn’t imagine her life without him at this point. There were some realisations within herself that she was scared to look at though. Once, Armin questioned whether she wanted to leave the group to go live with her father, since that seemed to always be her goal ever since she left for Paradis Island all those years ago.

Annie had spent time with her father early on in the months following the Rumbling, but had found herself drawn to working with Armin and the others, though was reluctant to leave her father initially. He assured her it was okay though, and encouraged her to get out and do something she enjoyed with her life. She still visited him regularly in Marley when she could.

They never openly acknowledged it, but the intimacy between Armin and Annie slowly began to increase. Armin had a couch in his study, and sometimes they would sit there together, Armin reading some book too boring for her to be interested in, and Annie would just relax. One afternoon, the sun was falling just right over her body, and she allowed herself to close her eyes. The next thing she knew, she had awoken to her cheek pressed into the fabric of Armin’s shoulder, one of his arms resting loosely around her shoulders. He was still reading in the fading dusk light, and when she shifted, he looked at her, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispered, smirking slightly. “Poor form of you, sleeping on the job, huh?”

He was teasing her. Annie pushed herself upright, fighting a yawn, failing to do so, all while shooting him an icy glare.

Armin just laughed.

Fuck.

Annie couldn’t maintain her icy demeanour at that. That damned laugh of his always broke all of her walls. She just huffed and turned her head, heat creeping up her neck. Armin’s laugh faded, and Annie glanced over at him. She was surprised to see him glancing at her sheepishly too.

“You know,” he mumbled, blushing, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “Uh, I don’t mind if you, you know, do that…”

Annie’s breath caught. Armin blushed harder, eyes averting.

“Uhm,” he continued, still resolutely not looking at her, “Hitch used to always say that you looked scary when you slept? But… you… don’t really, I think you look kinda cute actually and- oh?”

Annie had scooted closer to him during his ramblings, and, without a word, rested her head back onto his shoulder.

“You talk too much,” she grumbled, curling up beside him.

Armin huffed out a laugh, his arm returning to its spot around her shoulders.

They stayed like that until Annie fell asleep again, and the both of them had to be shaken awake by an amused looking Pieck, who smirked at Annie mischievously when the latter discovered Armin had wrapped her up in his arms, his cheek pressed up against her hair.

***

Some invisible barrier had broken between the two of them since that afternoon. Annie found herself sleeping on Armin in various different places whenever they sat together for extended periods of time, and he became more touchy, often grabbing onto her hands to lead her places and show her things, and being quite cuddly when she fell asleep on him, leading Annie to wake up pressed tightly against him, trapped by his arm.

They found themselves in a unique situation, and neither Annie nor Armin were oblivious to the rumours and giggles that followed the two of them around at Scout Headquarters. Their close friends wisely chose not to mention their growing intimacy, but that didn’t save them from the badly disguised stares and whispered speculation that erupted from Junior Scouts as the pair did their daily business around the grounds.

It didn’t help that Armin and Annie did absolutely everything together after the attack. The two didn’t say anything to each other, the only indication Annie got that Armin noticed it at all was his telltale habit of rubbing the back on his neck and hair when he got flustered or nervous when the whispers got a little too loud for comfort.

Things reached a peak one night after a long meeting negotiating new regiment leaders and discussing the rebel Jeagerists that seemed to be grouping up together again.

It was raining hard after a sudden downpour, and Armin and Annie were faced with the newly treacherous task of making their way across the grounds to their adjacent rooms in the Commander’s and Captain’s dorms.

They stood under an awning, peering through the darkness, trying to route a path that would result in the least amount of drenching. It didn’t seem possible.

“Well,” Annie said, “I suppose we can just have a shower after…”

“I guess… let’s go!”

Annie cried out in surprise as Armin grabbed her hand and yanked her along with him, and then they were off, running through the sheets of water and getting thoroughly soaked to the bone. Annie let herself go, and began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, and soon Armin joined her, their laughs getting lost in the roar of the rain.

Just as they reached their barracks, Annie’s foot landed in a particularly slippery patch of mud and she toppled over, gasping. She squeaked in shock as a pair of arms wrapped around her and saved her from a faceful of mud. Armin pulled her into him, and her palms flew up to grip his shirt at his chest. They stood there for a second, staring at each other, far closer than they had ever been before, chests heaving with exertion.

Armin’s arms tightened around her slightly.

“Are… are you okay?” he breathed.

Annie could feel his heart racing beneath her hands, and she suddenly became acutely aware of how fast her heart was going too. She nodded, breathless.

Armin didn’t seem to want to let her go. Annie found that she didn’t want him to either.

All of their interactions since his damned confession on the boat ran through her head. Annie took a breath. She had made up her mind. Enough of this dancing around one another. Just as the words building up in her head for months passed her lips, Armin spoke.

“Annie,” he said, eyes intensely focused on hers. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her chest caught.

“I…”

Feeling as though her entire life had led up to this moment, Annie abandoned any response she might have had on her tongue, gripped his shirt harder, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

She could feel the tension leave Armin’s shoulders, and he almost slumped into her, leaning down so she could stand flat-footed, kissing her back, hands sliding up her body to cradle her face. They broke apart, lost in their own little world, eyes locked.

“Wanna get married?”

Annie let loose an elated giggle, sure that this high she was on was never going to let her down. It was all too incredible to even describe.

“Yeah.”

***

Rumours about the Commander and his female companion had been the hot topic of Scout members for months. A set of questions regarding them circulated.

“Who’s that scary-looking lady who’s always with the Commander?”

“Is she some kind of new captain?”

“I heard she was his bodyguard!”

“No surely not, she’s too small for that, maybe she’s his assistant.”

Another smaller, more knowledgeable section of older Scouts found the pairing to be unbearable.

“She’s the Female Titan!”

“Why haven’t we killed her yet? You know how many Scouts she killed, right?”

“Why on earth does he seem to be friendly with her?”

“They look like some sort of couple! No way am I serving under someone fucking a traitor!”

The Commander and his female companion were very aware of the whispers, but they didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted, they thought.

One afternoon, an amused-looking Reiner was lounging about, supervising some of the younger recruits in their training. He heard some of their whispers, and laughed aloud.

“You guys don’t know?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “She’s no bodyguard. That’s his wife .”

Rumour has it the squeals of shock could be heard from across the grounds.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 25

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut (18+)

A/N: me to me “you shall not write smut. BEHAVE” also me “mILE HIGH CLUB”. 2021 barely started and i already need jesus. also rip me attempting to post this before christmas but hey i refuse to let christmas end bc christmas is my only hope and love and it’s over.

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky was the first one up as the clock struck 5AM. He was anxious for the flight, for everything really. Y/N had assured him she had bought first class tickets so he’d be comfortable with the long trip but he was still reticent about flying. As an Avenger he used to do national missions, preferring not to fly as it brought him some memories he didn’t like to relieve. Sam had suggested he took some sleeping pills while the flight was going but Bucky refused not to be there to support Y/N who’d been getting called by her team 24/7 about her “mishap” as her manager like to refer to. As if a 20-something dating was something weird. Bucky knew Steve did way worse things than that but of course, she had stepped off the line, off the good girl, virgin ‘til marriage, girl next door yet just gorgeously unattainable and if Y/N hadn’t told him to stay out of it, he would’ve threatened everyone.

Anyway, other than flying he kept wondering about her family. Y/N had a big family, at least more family than he had and he wasn’t entirely sure how they would react to him. Bucky knew he wasn’t the type of man you’d like your daughter to bring in. Who’d want to say that their daughter was dating an assassin? No one. He had wanted to say no, he wanted her to have a nice holiday but looking at her there was no denying her. 

Y/N woke up half an hour later, extending her arm towards Bucky’s side only to feel the cold of the sheets on her side. She rose her torso, rubbing the sleep off her eyes before the blurry room became clear. He was sat on the big armchair, staring at the flight tickets.

     - Someone’s an early bird. - she leaned on the bed, hands under her chin as he gave her his charming smile. - Excited?

     - Nervous. - he rose from his chair to kiss her forehead. - Do you need anything, princess?

     - Just need to get dressed. - she lazily got up from her bed. - You’re gonna love it, Buck. There’s snow on the ground, we can get spiced mulled tea and go see the decorations at the West End. 

     - I’m sure I will. Now get dressed unless you plan on going to the airport in your underwear.

     - I don’t see you complaining. - she flirted, hips moving side to side as she opened his wardrobe to grab her burgundy long sleeve dress and pair of black flats. Bucky tried his best not to ogle at her and her figure in a matching black set of star motif bra and panties with garters to see through black stockings. Sometimes he had to slap himself to convince himself the woman standing in front of him actually liked him. - You’re okay with going, right?

      - Of course, princess. Whatever makes you happy.

      - Okay but what makes you happy? We don’t need to go if you don’t feel comfortable. 

      - Just regular meeting the parents nerves. - he pulled her hair away from her face to kiss her forehead. 

      - Based on the photos Rebecca has, I would say you’ve met enough parents not to be nervous anymore. 

      - Come here, you little minx. - he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her in close to him. - I will have you know that I never met any of the girls’ parents. It was not a good thing for a lady to be seen alone with a man in my time, so we had to keep it a secret.

      - Mhm, were you destroying ladies’ reputations in your day, Mr. Barnes? Is that it?

      - Not my fault they couldn’t resist me. - he leaned down to kiss her but she turned her face away, naughty smile on her lips. - Don’t do that to me, princess. It’ll break my tiny heart.

      - Stop playing Romeo and grab your bags before we’re late. - she swung her hips side to side to grab her own cary on, a small matte black suitcase with her initials on the bottom left in a small size. 

Bucky followed her into the airport. He couldn’t seriously remember the last time he had been in an airport, maybe during his youth but right now everything seemed so different yet he didn’t feel scared. He looked to his right and there she was, holding his hand as the other pulled her trolley, dark sunglasses on to hide who she was but still sporting that smile that was truly hers, something he could pick out of a crowd. He never really liked the word or feeling of possession, neither did she, but they didn’t really mind the feeling that a ship’s rope held both their hands together in a nautical strong knot. It was that sort of feeling that disconnected them both from what surrounded them, the sound of echoed and at the same time murmured silence. Y/N didn’t mind, Bucky didn’t mind. The flashlights went by dim and the announcements went mute for both of them.

Y/N however did not like airports. For her, airports signified goodbyes, harmful and painful goodbyes those were you wave goodbye to your loved ones and walk into security checks with tears lodged in her throat, telling herself to put herself together as she approached the beginning of that line. It represented waving goodbye to her comforts to travel somewhere she was not happy, not that her life in the US after she left the UK didn’t made her happy, it did but it was a faux happiness. It was locked inside a bought apartment with people who didn’t or refused to understand her, with friends she loved and cared for but didn’t really check on her them too lost on their own lives, it was yearning for a love that took years to come and everyone told her it would come but never did. It was an odd feeling being at the airport but being with Bucky twisted that. It was no longer leaving loved ones, it was departing with them, it was leaving all the mess that haunted her behind yet she couldn’t help feeling like something lingered in the wind, some cut throating emotions and actions which would return to her. 

She decided not to dwell on it, smiling at Bucky as he picked some snacks to bring inside the plane besides her telling him they probably would have the peanut M&Ms rather than his beloved chocolate only ones. She watched him as someone watched something that reminded them of a childhood memory or something that touched them, with a tinge of sadness, almost knowing it would never happen again. She felt tied to him but she felt at any time this knot could worn out and she feared he would leave. Things fade, nothing lasts forever and she wondered when he would realise that he was dating a ticking time bomb controlled by others. She had control over her own heart but her face, her reputation, that would never be hers to control. 

     - Y/N? - he laid his hand on top of her shoulder. - Are you okay, princess?

     - Yeah, just thinking. - she handed the lady the tickets, holding Bucky’s hand as he led her inside the airplane.

Y/N was lucky to be used to first class, she spent in life in it but for Bucky it was a jarring new experience. His parents used to be well off, better than most however they were never well enough to afford flying anywhere. The closest he’d been to flying was in military helicopters but all his experience to commercial flying had been watching on magazines but even this looked so different. It looked like a perfect first class bedroom in a five star hotel with individual little places for each passenger and some for couples which he guessed was one for the two of them. As they approached their cabin, a polished dressed lady signalled them inside their own seats. She looked at Bucky who had star filled eyes as he noticed all the comfort of his seat.

    - Is this how you travel? - he sat down by the window, looking at the small bottles of water, juices and fun sized treats. - Now I know why you travel so much. It’s like a damn hotel room here. 

    - Peanut M&M’s. - she grabbed one of the snacks from his side. - I believe you’ll be donating those to me. 

    - That’s a travesty, princess. I cannot believe you prefer those with peanuts

    - Peanuts are great. 

    - Unless you’re allergic to them.

    - You’re not allergic to peanuts. Steve would’ve told me if you were and I saw you eat a peanut energy bar yesterday. - she crossed her arms. 

    - First, I hate peanuts so it’s almost as if I were allergic to them. Second, KIND bars don’t count, you know how good they are, they add that little caramel drizzle.

    - I guess we’re gonna have more than my nephews and nieces for a picky eater this Christmas. - she laughed, picking the remote to shuffle through whatever the company offered. Bucky leaned on her shoulder, leaving a kiss on it right before he did. - Thank you for coming with me. 

   - That’s not a problem, princess. Besides, who would guard you if I were not to come?

   - Is this overtime then, Mr. Barnes? - she looked down at him, his childish yet charming smile whenever he meant to tease her which he so easily could do both meanings of the word. - We should prepare for take off. 

It couldn’t be too different from take off in the quinjet. Bucky had done it once after the train incident but it always brought him back to it. He wasn’t like this and it pained him that the slightest of turbulences in any travels now made him feel like a kid. He didn’t use to be like this, he was fearless, going on the Cyclone time and time again and now ... now he was a shell of a man afraid of take off. He shouldn’t be afraid, it was not his role, right? He knew things were different then and were different now but he always wanted to be strong, strong for her as if any insecurity would throw her away. He knew it didn’t, Bucky knew Y/N was there to stick around and didn’t care about what the war and HYDRA had done to him but he cared. Bucky wanted to be her hero, her safe harbour and with this ... 

His mind shattered into snowflakes as she held his hand, the captain’s voice muffled as the plane gathered speech. Y/N never hand cold hands or a cold touch, she was just warm, a little ray of sunshine burning his icy exterior and forcing him to see the beauty of winter. Bucky clearly mostly got distracted by her own beauty but her holding his hand, the rings on her fingers which she had gathered from little shops along the street against his hand, made him want to remove the dagger he had stuck on himself so he could feel pain forevermore. 

The plane move upwards, both of them being pulled against their seats by the laws of physics on an endless climb and he still had his eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness. 

    - Buck. - her finger caressed his jaw. - Look out the window. 

Bucky peaked open one of his eyes, looking out the window near him to see a full blue sky, completely different from the dark skies of the winter filled New York they had just left.

   - We fly above the clouds. Isn’t it beautiful? - she leaned against his shoulder. 

   - You see this everytime?

   - Unless I’m flying at night, yeah. Sunsets and risings are particularly stunning. 

   - Now what?

   - Now we wait for round 6 to 7 hours. We can put a movie on, maybe. Whatever you’d like.

Bucky took to shuffling through the movie catalogue himself. Some of the movies he’d never heard about and some he’d heard from Sam or from Steve’s list of movies he had to watch yet he never did. Capitan America himself stuck to the old classics, the movies they used to sneak through the backdoor of the theatre. He himself liked the classics too and Y/N, as a film/acting major herself, also had a soft spot for them. Bucky’s favourite was the Wizard of Oz, despite later knowing how controversial filming had been, yet he couldn’t help but always remember the wonder on his sister’s face and his own wonder as he watched the vivid colours. He could still feel it now, however the movie ended and soon the food came in and he found himself bored. There wasn’t much he could do on a plane and he found himself jealous of the 5 year old running up and down the cabin, despite most of Y/N’s laughter. 

He covered himself in the company’s blanket and snuggled against the pillow and still he couldn’t sleep. Y/N on the other hand had fallen asleep the moment she pulled the leg rest, wrapped around in her blanket, face facing his which gave Bucky the excuse to look at her while she slept. Bucky always found it wildly amusing how she slept, lips slightly puckered, eyes fluttering until she fell in deep and hands fisting the blanket up to her chin. Eventually, Bucky got frustrated, moving around in his seat to find a comfortable position. How come he couldn’t find a comfortable position on a first class seat?

    - Buck ... - she groaned, opening her eyes. - Stop moving around. 

    - I’m sorry, princess. I’m just ... so bored. How do you do this?

    - I sleep. - she placed the blanket on her lap. - Why don’t you get something else to eat?

    - How many hours left?

    - You don’t wanna know. - she rubbed the sleep of her eyes, Bucky still laid against his seat, blanket on his lap, head against the head rest. Y/N started thinking about how to entertain him until her gaze fell onto his lap. Looking around the cabin was quiet, no cabin crew or passengers on their feet, just a calm cabin. 

She moved closer to him, head against her shoulder, facade of a glistening angel on a renaissance painting. Her fingers traced the soft finish of his blanket, the embodied company name until her fingers were under the soft fabric. She slide her hand under his shirt, feeling his warm skin as her hand travelled downwards towards the Hugo Boss boxers he wore, fingers hooking on the waistband. Bucky swallowed dry, wondering if he had finally gone to sleep and this was finally a good dream or if his sweet, innocent girlfriend was actually about to do what his mind was rushing to as her fingers wrapped around his softened member. He grunted, looking at her like she was a fever dream, hips mindlessly thrusting into her soft warm hand. He would say there was no better feeling, had it not been for the fact he had been inside of her. 

Y/N bite her lip, insecurely swiping her thumb over the tip, his pre cum dripping onto it. She didn’t know what she was doing, mostly going by the erotica she had read and seen before, guiding herself by his low sounds, mumbled by his own hand which laid against his own mouth. She looked up at him, cerulean eyes looking at the ceiling as if all his strength would break loose were he to look at her and she thought that was the most gorgeous he’d look. She straight herself up, pushing his hand away from his mouth to start kissing him, something which would look rather innocent to anyone who passed by. Her kiss was warm, hot and sinful, much more different than the shy ones she would lay on him each morning yet he guessed it matched with her movements, fast and tighter against his cock. He tried to remain still, allow her to do what she wanted to do but his body had a different idea, hips thrusting and gyrating against her hand like some idiot teenager as her mouth lowered to kiss his pulse point. His breathe quickened, coming into staccatto as her movement quickened. The environment was blurry and all he could think about and hear were her movements and his body shuddering until he was spurting thick ropes of white liquid onto her hand and his breathe came out knocked as if he had finished a race. 

She cleaned her palm with a tissue, bringing her fingers up to her cherry tinted lips from her chapstick, disappearing within the plumpness of them. He swore he could cum again just from that sight. As he tried to regain his breathe from the latter event, she gave him a shy smile, pushing her blanket up to her chin. Whatever she did to him, whatever release she had given him had made him comfortable enough on that cloud nine that sent him into sleeping, only awaking once the plane wheels hit British soil. 

It was dark, around 9PM the captain had said and Bucky himself thought the trip was over until both of them disembarked onto the airport which was a completely different world. Had it not been by Y/N’s unwillingness to spend more time in an airport, he would’ve possibly stood behind taking pictures yet once she spotted a man with a sheet with her name written in, she had his hand on hers and dragged him up to it.

Bucky had been in London, he remembered it from the war and some buildings were the same yet everything was brighter. His eyes shone against the decorations, wondering how bigger they could get and Y/N took great pleasure in seeing him so happy. All she wanted was to make him happy, all she wanted was to see him happy. The taxi driver stopped in front of her childhood home which gladly always seemed to look the same with christmas lights and garlands. Both of them step out the car and the nerves finally hit Bucky. How do you meet someone’s parents? How do you meet the person who just gave you a handjob’s parents and make a good impression? How could he make a good impression? He was a hundred year old never aging man with a metal arm dating the little rose that everyone put on an altar. He didn’t belong. Maybe he could stop her, maybe he could convince her not to ring the bell except she was already ringing the bell and the door was opening up.

A short woman in a white jumper and jeans opened the door. She had Y/N’s eyes, the same eyes Bucky would recognise anywhere and based by the tight hug she gave Y/N, he would guess she was his mother.

   - Mum, this is Bucky. - she held Bucky’s hand. What should he do? Should he wave?

   - Oh my, you’re tall. I thought that with a nickname like that you’d be small. Oh, here I am again rambling. We are so happy here, you know, you’re the first man Y/N brings home.

   - Mum!

   - What? It’s true. You’re my oldest child and only now have you brought a man. Aunt Petunia is really proud of you.

   - Mum!

   - Come in, Bucky. Can I call you Bucky? Come meet the family.

taglist: @disasterbii​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @buckyandsebastian​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34​ @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​

[jjfics]

On The Run | 01

ship: Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader 

summary: The Hargreeves have to leave the Academy behind and run away to Dallas, Texas. The Reader is a lot more anxious than Five and thats understandable, but they need to focus.

series: read part 2 here

author: jane jack aka your girl jjfics 

words: 1950

warnings: mentions of blood, death and murder, (feelings of uncertainty and anxiety, flashbacks) and lots of angssst (why do i love writing angst thoughh??)

a/n: there will definitely be a part 2 so keep those notifications in checkk

It felt as if you could read everyone else’s thoughts through the silence. The car kept moving at a fast speed as you passed cities and villages. From time to time you would worry Five was going to lose control of the car, but he never even flinched. 

He just looked at the road before you; stress and worry were clear in his eyes. There was so much he needed to figure out. Who were you going to be from now on? And him? And his siblings? Were you going to hide forever? 

“Five” you whispered. He didn’t hear you. Or maybe he did and he chose to ignore you. “Five” you said again, this time catching his attention. 

He turned to look at you for a moment and then he focused on the road again.“What?” 

“Can we stop for 5 minutes at the next gas station, please? I have to wash my hands.” you said quietly looking down. 

He pursed his lips before he spoke again. “No.” Five was just being direct. The more time it took you to get to Dallas, the more vulnerable you became. 

Dallas…

You fell through the vortex a couple of months before Five arrived. With no idea where the others went or how to find them, it was really just you, all alone. You were the last one Elliot took a picture of before the chaos of the second apocalypse began. The alley was strange, and so were the people. Everything was different here. You were disoriented and scared. According to the confused strangers when you asked them the date, you were somewhere way before your birth.

First thing you realise when you don’t even have a home anymore is that you need money. It can be so crucial. But how will you, a nobody in the 60s, survive if all you knew how to do, was sing? Music was how you met your best friend Vanya for the first time: at an audition. And after that followed the concerts. The public loved the two of you.

So you did what you did best. 

One day, while walking aimlessly on the busy streets, searching for a place selling cheap food, you started singing your favourite song. A song no one around had ever heard, a song you danced to with Five once. People started to gather around you and listen as you went on. This was it, this is where you were in your element. Your father forced you to take singing lessons when you were four. You didn’t enjoy it at first, but you grew up to love it. People clapped and left you money before going on about their day. So you ended up spending the entire day there. By nightfall you had been given enough money for the whole week. 

You were leaning on a cold brick wall and eating a sandwich when you saw someone drop a newspaper. Curiously, you grabbed it and were shocked by the headline. 

“Young woman sings in front of a bakery stealing every Texan’s heart. Who is the mysterious singer to whom many would empty their pockets for a show? 

You had been living in an apartment above The Rosemary Club, the place you worked at now. You sang almost every night and earned a lot of money and visitors for your boss, so he let you stay there. 

One night, you had a special visitor. He wasn’t there to see you specifically; he was working, just like you. Luther went everywhere his boss went, he was his bodyguard. You made eye contact a couple of times but never spoke on that evening. You couldn’t even look at him without cringing away. Not after what he did to Vanya. Five might say that she’s the bomb, but in your mind, that bomb was pretty much activated by Luther.He tried to talk to you but you avoided him as much as possible. 

“y/n! Wait, stop running away, God!” 

“What do you want, Luther?” you gave him a cold look.

“To talk to you? Isn’t that what normal people do after they haven’t seen each other for a long time?” he asks. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” you said and ordered a drink. 

“Jesus, y/n, what's wrong with you?”

“Do I have to remind you that we’re here because of you?”

“Because of me? What do you mean, didn’t you see how Vanya literally destroyed the M-”

“Shut up. I don’t care.” you cut him off. “Have you met anyone else besides me, you stalker?”

“No.” he admitted. ”I tried searching for Allison but they haven’t found her yet.” 

“Right. Amazing. Five? No news about him either?” His expression softens. He knew about your relationship with Five, and how much you two meant for each other. 

“No, I’m really sorry. I don’t know where he is…” his voice only getting smaller when he saw the disappointment in your eyes.

You looked up from your drink and to the big man next you. “Then you can leave. I have to go get dressed.” You put your glass on the counter and left.

Your days in Dallas were easy. Life was always the same and you knew what to expect. Sometimes Luther and his boss would show up at the club and you would ignore each other. You sang, you were introduced to some people and you would make small talk with the bartender. Day after day, always missing your friends. Missing 2019. Missing Five. Your life was easy, but you were alone for the most part. You missed cuddling with Five before you went to sleep together and then waking up in his arms. You missed how he would come and pick you up after practise. How he would kiss you after every concert and tell you how proud he was of you. You missed him truly. 

The bow to the public mixed with a charismatic smile and a wave was how you always ended a good show. Walking off stage you rolled your eyes when you saw who came towards you. 

“There’s someone who would like to talk to you.” he said with a stupid smile planted on his face.

“I’m on break.” you tried to walk away. Luther grabbed your arm and spun you around so you would be facing him again. “Hey! What are you doing? Back off!”

“Believe me, y/n, you really should go talk to him” 

You eyed him suspiciously. “Well alright then.” you said sarcastically. “But keep your hands to yourself.” 

“Yeah, right, sorry.” he said and stepped to the side . “Come with me, he’s waiting outside.” he babbled before leading you to the main entrance of the club, one which neither of you used. This all seemed sketchy. If he was trying to kidnap you, I’d be no surprise. 

The air outside was cooler than usual. You crossed your arms and huffed. 

And then you saw him. Right there, alive and in front of you. He was well. He survived. 

He was still wearing his uniform, which was clean. He must've just arrived. 

You ran to him as fast your red heels allowed you to and he met you with a warm embrace. He still smelled exactly like himself. A day to him, months for you. Is this what it felt like for him when he was stuck in the future? You hugged him tight and inhaled his scent deeply trying to forget all these nights you cried, hoping he would come through the door and hug you. Hoping he would materialize in front of you like he did for his father’s funeral.

The man still looked young, but you knew damn well who he was. He wasn’t someone you’d forget that easily. Finally, he was here, with you. 

He pulled away and it almost pained you. It was crazy, of course, to think that after all this time you’d lose him again, but even as much as moving an inch scared you now that he was right here. 

“y/n.”

“Five”

Your lips melted together in the most awaited kiss of the century. Of all time maybe. His hands glued themselves to your waist again and you saw him perfectly in the dim light of the alley.

Your eyes were empty. You wanted to wipe your hands but the blood on them had dried already. 

“Five, please I need to wash my hands. I need to- I- I have to wash it all away- Please” 

He hated that he had to hear you beg and yet he couldn't stop. It’s for her own safety, it’s for our safety, he would think. 

“y/n we can’t stop now. Even 5 minutes could mean our deaths right now. Please understand” 

And you wanted to understand. You wanted to stay calm just like the rest, but they were trained. They’ve done such things before. You however, didn’t. Everytime you looked at your lap you saw her again. Laying there, lifeless. You saw the knife as it fell from your hands, making an awful sound when it hit the floor. Maybe if you’d wash them, the flashbacks would stop. 

“Please, I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t be like this. This is not- It’s not-” 

Your breath was uncontrolled. Everytime you closed your eyes, you saw her again. Everytime you would inhale, she would exhale for the last time, again, and again, and again. You were fully sobbing now. 

Vanya’s hand softly touched your shoulder from the back seat and you flinched. “Shh, it’s just me” she cooed “It’s just me” 

You tried to relax a bit and then spoke again, hoping to get it right this time.

“I’m a bad person, Five. I just killed an innocent woman and… and I have her blood all over my hands.” you looked at him to find he was already looking at you. Guilt and regret were visible on his face. “I’m a killer, Five.” you wept. 

He reached your cheek with one hand and wiped your tears away. “She wasn’t innocent” he stated. “She’s killed many people.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m any less of a killer” 

“Well, then. I’m a killer too. More or less than my siblings here. So we are all on the same team.” he spoke calmly, as if the Hargreeves discussed murder at the dinner table every evening. Thinking about it twice there’s a big chance they did, when the old man was still alive at least.

“But you killed to survive, Five. You had to. I didn’t but she’s dead now.”

He huffed in annoyance. She’s not used to this. Take it slowly, he thought.

“You had to, too, y/n. It was self defence. If it wasn’t her then… well then let’s not think about it” he finished. Then I would be the one dead, you added, but only in your head because you knew how much he hated thinking about anything bad happening to you. He wanted you safe. You wanted him safe.

“Okay then. But as soon as we’re in Dallas we’ll stop and get new clothes.” you started to come back to your senses again. Right. You need to get to the city and find a way to trick the Commision. Or maybe you needed to hide. Or just freshen up and get on the road again. You didn’t know exactly what you were going to do, but if anyone found the map Diego was holding in his lap right now, they’d know exactly what your first stop was going to be. The Rosemary Club.

[mintwithchoco]

loonathesmut: Dawn

LOOΠΔ Jinsoul x Male Reader

Word Count: 6306 words

Categories: smut, oral, shower sex, stepsister! jinsoul

note; my first smut! i haven't seen anyone do a jinsoul smut so here! i think i focused too much on the plot but i tried my best to incorporate a lot of smut in here! i feel like it's also pretty cringey so bash me all you want lmao

note(05312021); thanks to an ask from an anon, me and @closedafterdark​ have done a few edits and even added a shower sex scene to make the story better.

aff link

12 AM was displayed on the clock.

You were still awake, trying to finish an assignment that has been keeping you up the past three days.

It was raining harshly outside, the droplets pelting your window adding on to your laziness. You wanted to wrap yourself under the covers of your blanket and drink a cup of piping hot chocolate. Instead, you were working on a chemical equation when your attention was moved to the knocking sounds on your front door.

You were a bit confused about who was coming to your apartment this late at night. You suddenly thought about your friend. Maybe he forgot something? Or maybe it’s your mom, making a surprise visit at midnight. Though, that one seemed less likely as she was usually asleep by 8 PM.

You quickly rushed towards the door. To your surprise - it was neither your mom nor your friend. It was your stepsister, Jinsol.

You and Jinsol have been step siblings since you both were kids. She’s only a year older than you, which made it easier for you to bond with her. You still remember the days where you and her were playing hide and seek, beating each other in Super Smash Bros and sharing lunch together at school.

You and her were almost like real siblings, some might even say twins because of the similarities. Both of you had the same interest in food, music, etc. Furthermore, you were always together with Jinsol everywhere you went. If people didn’t know that you are both step siblings, chances are that you would’ve been mistaken as a good-looking couple.

But the truth was, you did have a little crush on her. You knew that it was wrong, but her personality is really similar to your ideal type. Caring, adorable, and a little clumsy at times, you obviously couldn’t say no to her. Adding on the obvious fact that she is really pretty from head to toe, it’s no wonder you were always nervous around her.

Now that you two were grown up, you have taken different paths in life. She has become an idol in a group called Girl of the Month, or more commonly referred to as Loona. The group has been doing well these days and of course, you were happy for her. You, on the other hand, continued your studies at a university in Incheon in the biochemistry field. Even though you and Jinsol were not living together anymore, both of you still kept in contact. It was almost a requirement to message each other almost every day and video calling whenever possible.

“Noona? Why are you-” you asked, blinking your eyes at her. She interrupted you from finishing your sentence by holding up two plastic bags with takeaway food inside. You automatically get them from her hands.

“The company gave me a week of vacation. Haven’t seen you in a while so I decided to pay my lovely brother a visit!” Jinsol said enthusiastically.

“But, why now though? It’s dangerous to be out at night, let alone someone as clumsy as you could get harmed.” You said, teasing her as a way to mask your visible concern.

“There’s less people at midnight. Plus, I had a bodyguard on the way here.” Jinsol answered, kicking off her shoes while entering your apartment.

“Oh really? Where is he?” You asked, peeking outside your door and not seeing anyone else with her.

“I told him to go back home. Which means, you have to take me back tomorrow! Ahh, it’s been a while since I’ve been here!” Jinsol answered while walking around the living room, looking at all of the new trinkets and decorations you have accumulated since her last visit.

You sighed deeply as you watched her pace around. Jinsol then plopped down face first onto your couch and gestured at you to sit beside her. You walked towards the couch, placing the bags of food on the table nearby and sat down beside her while holding in your nervousness.

Why were you nervous, you wondered. Is it because it’s been awhile since you’ve seen her in person? 

She was wearing a black long sleeved crop top with a black sleeveless top underneath, allowing you to see her toned abdomen. Her black shorts made your heart race faster due to how short they were, showing off her extremely long legs. Her creamy thighs looked delicious and the subtle hint of her buttcheeks were making your loins begin to burn with desire. You were thinking of very impure thoughts but did your best to suppress them.

Jinsol reached for the remote and turned on the television. You opened the bags and began taking out the styrofoam boxes of food out.

“By the way, why are you still up at this time? You were always asleep as early as possible.” Jinsol asked.

“As usual, assignments. I’ve worked on them for days now. Seems like they’re impossible to finish.” You said while opening the boxes. Once they were opened, you instantly smiled as the fragrant aroma of the food traveled into your nostrils. 

“Fried chicken? Oh you shouldn’t have!” You quickly ran to the kitchen and grabbed some utensils. Jinsol simply smiled at your actions.

“What do you want to drink?” You asked.

“Do you have any Sprite?” Jinsoul said.

“Yeah, I do.” You opened the refrigerator and took out two green cans of the unmistakable beverage.

With utensils on your right hand and the two cans of Sprite on your left, you went back to the couch and gently put them down. Both of you quickly dig into the food while watching a random movie that Jinsol put on.

The both of you talked a lot while eating, the movie serving as a background afterthought. From the funny moments during her fansigns to your experience working part-time at a daycare, your heart was constantly beating. The nervousness could be heard in your voice with each of your responses. You were quiet whenever she spoke and stuttered when answering her questions, often repeating certain words a few times. Every time you stutter, Jinsol would smile. Sometimes she would giggle for no reason and it only increased the furious rate your heart was pumping at.

Halfway through the movie, Jinsol suddenly asks a question that you’ve been avoiding to answer.

“Hey, baby brother?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Jinsol asked casually.

“Uhh no..I’m too busy with assignments and studies. I barely have enough time for sleep these days, much less a girlfriend.” You answered calmly.

“Ehh..really? How about a crush?”

“Not really. I don’t really know any girls at the university. Most of my interactions with them are about assignments or if they could borrow my notes from the previous lecture.” You felt slightly bad for lying to her, since you knew a handful of pretty girls in your university.

“How about you noona, are you interested in anyone?” You directed her question right back at her, mentally preparing yourself to be heartbroken.

“Yeah, I do actually.” All the color in your face was gone as you felt your heart metaphorically being glass and shattering into a million pieces. But you still held out hope that it was just one of her jokes...

“Oh really? Then tell me how attractive this guy is.” You teased.

“Hmm, let’s see. He’s handsome, pretty athletic, smart, kind but what’s important is that..” Jinsol stops and stares at you.

“..he’s like a little brother to me.” Jinsol ended her statement when your faces were mere centimeters and turned her focus to the movie.

You were visibly confused. Why would she emphasize her crush to be a ‘little brother’? You tried to wrap your head around it by watching the movie as well, occasionally stealing glances at her. But her words still lingered in your mind.

It was around 2 AM when the movie finally ended. You looked towards Jinsol and saw her fast asleep. Being the good brother and host you are, you delicately lifted her into your arms to bring her into your room so that she could sleep on your bed. The impure thoughts reared their ugly head into your mind as you did so.

After gently laying her down on your bed, you grabbed some pillows and blankets to sleep on the couch. You decided it was too risky to share the bed with Jinsol otherwise.

Just as you were about to close the lights and head to the living room, you felt a hand grab your arm. You looked back to see Jinsol who had a sleepy look plastered on her face pulling you back.

“Where are you going?” Jinsol asked with a quiet and raspy voice. Her exhausted voice sounded so seductive, almost causing you to choke on your own saliva.

“I’m s-sleeping on t-the couch. You know, t-to give you privacy…” You said, failing to not stutter that you had just managed to control.

“You’re not gonna feel comfortable sleeping on the couch. Just sleep here.” Jinsol said again.

“But-” You tried to resist but Jinsol pulled your hand even harder.

“F-Fine…” You said as you gave up and sat beside her on the bed. You were hesitant to do so, your king-sized bed feeling like it was too small for the both of you.

“Just lay down! I won’t eat you.” Jinsol teased.

You laid down slowly, feeling like you were going to melt and sink into the bed. Once you got comfortable, Jinsol pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“Goodnight, baby brother.” Jinsoul said, giving you a kiss on the forehead and then turned on her side, facing herself against you.

“G-Goodnight, n-noona..” You said, trying to stop your rapidly hardening erection below from waking up because of the perverted thoughts you were having.

After around twenty minutes, you still couldn’t sleep because of the close proximity between you and Jinsol. You looked to your side and saw her sleeping soundly. You couldn’t deny how pretty she looked while sleeping. After some time and your erection teasing you, you managed to fall asleep.

//timeskip//

It was now 6 AM.

Jinsol felt a weird sensation all over her body.

She was heating up from head to toe, but it was not due to a fever.

Her bottom was where most of the warm and weird sensations were coming from. She felt that something hard was touching her. She tried to move her hips around and suddenly moaned. She quickly stopped, afraid that her moans would wake you up.

She doesn’t know why, but the thing that was touching her clothed vagina felt good. She felt herself getting wet because of it as well. She wanted to get up and inspect what exactly was touching her. But then she thought about you, so she scrapped the plan and decided to just see what was going on.

She slowly opened her eyes. It was dark but she could still see a little bit. She looked at her back and to her surprise, you were hugging her tightly. Your face was close to her neck and your right hand was at her waist. Moreover, the thing that was poking her was coming from you.

Jinsol smiled.

The truth was, Jinsol also has feelings towards you. The person that she described earlier in the evening was you. She always loved how you were nervous around her. Sometimes, she would touch herself after she secretly caught you staring at her body. It was like this for two years until you and she went your separate ways to pursue your own careers.

And now she was here, visiting you with one goal in mind. To actually confess her feelings towards you. She was going to just confess normally. But now, she had an even better idea due to this newfound situation.

She slowly gets off the bed, removing your hand away from her waist. With her off the bed, your body laid flat just how Jinsol wanted. She gets on top of the bed again and crawls in between your legs towards your crotch. Throughout all of this, you were still sleeping heavily.

Now at your crotch, Jinsol licked her lips. She was finally getting ready to do the thing that she had been longing for. Thankfully for her, you were wearing baggy pants so Jinsol had no problem removing them and your underwear in one swift motion.

Your hard cock sprang out, almost hitting her in the face. Jinsol’s pussy was drenched at this point, seeing all the possibilities that she could do with your cock. She slowly strokes it, hoping that it would wake you up. But being the heavy sleeper you were meant Jinsol would have to try harder.

After stroking your cock for some time, Jinsol licked the tip that was already leaking with precum, making you moan a little in your sleep. Jinsol kept licking the drenched tip until she saw you moved slightly. Eventually, she got her wish as you woke up.

“Ugh….huh? Noona what are you-” Jinsol quickly put her finger on your lips.

“Shh, baby. I know you have been wanting this.” Jinsol said in a seductive tone.

Without any hesitation, Jinsol took your shaft into her mouth. You instantly moaned at the contact, pleasure washing over your body as Jinsol kept sucking your cock gently. You couldn’t believe that your step sister was so good at giving you head. She then stopped sucking and stroked you slowly. 

“You know, I have been eyeing you for quite some time, baby. You might not know this, but I have caught you staring at my body a bunch of times.” Jinsol said while teasing your sensitive tip, flicking her tongue against it. You felt like you were in ecstasy as she stroked your cock and teasing your tip.

 “Sorry, n-noona..I can’t- ughh…h-help it..you’re too hot- oh my god..” You tried to answer but failed as the pleasure overwhelmed your senses.

“Tell me, what do you like about my body?” Jinsol said, stroking your cock faster.

“E-everything….” Your cock was twitching at this point when Jinsol suddenly stopped, causing you to whine.

“Come on, baby. Be more specific or else I won’t let you cum.” Jinsol started to stroke your cock again at a delicately slow pace.

“Your t-thighs. I love how delicious they look.” You said. You were getting used to her strokes, causing you to throb in her hand.

“Mmm, more?” Jinsol began to stroke faster.

“Y-your ass. I just wanna spank it every time I see you w-wear shorts.”

“You gotta have to work for that, baby. More.” Jinsol strokes you at an even faster rhythm.

“Your abs. I really like how sexy your a-abs look when you wear crop tops.”

“Thank you, I worked really hard on them. Last one, baby. Don’t stop now, you’re almost there.” Jinsol was now stroking you at max speed.

“Y-your b-breasts. I could suck o-on them all d-day.”

“Good boy. Now, for your reward.” Jinsol took your shaft into her mouth, starting from the tip.

You immediately moaned. Jinsol starts bobbing her head on your cock, taking it inch by inch. She gripped your thighs while you ran your fingers through her blonde hair. Eventually you hold the back of her head with both hands, the two of you are deeply absorbed by the erotic act. You mentally counted the seconds that passed, wanting to see how long she would be able to hold you for. Jinsol shakes her round ass as you force her head deeper. You felt her throat make contact with the tip of your cock, causing you to let out a wordless scream of pleasure. After about twenty seconds, she releases your cock. Gasping for air and a generous amount of saliva dripping from your cock and her mouth, she giggles in satisfaction. Your brain was beginning to overload from the pleasure. 

Jinsol’s panties were drenched with her juices since she started. While she was sucking your cock, her hand slowly went inside her panties. You saw what was happening and took advantage of it.

“Noona..let me help you out.” Jinsol understood what you were trying to do and eased her mouth off your cock, causing you to whimper. She turned around so that her hips would be up against your face. You got to work by pulling her shorts and her panties off in one motion, mirroring what she did to you.

“Impatient aren’t we?” Jinsol said and returned to slobbering on your throbbing cock. Tossing her shorts and panties on the floor, her beautiful pink pussy was glistening with her juices, making you drool. You dive right in, licking her clit like it was your last meal. Jinsol moaned loudly on your cock, adding on another layer of pleasure. You grabbed her thick thighs to get a better grip while eating her out.

Both of you were a moaning mess. Jinsol was bobbing her head on your shaft while you were eating her pussy out. Jinsol started to fondle your warm balls, raising the volume levels of your moans. You weren’t one to be defeated so easily, starting to finger her drenched pussy with two of your fingers. She responds with an even louder moan than before, aroused by how you were giving her pussy your full attention.

Jinsol bobbed her head harder and faster on your cock, causing you to add another finger inside her vagina while licking her clit. You and Jinsol were sweating profusely, but it doesn’t stop the both of you from continuing to pleasure each other. Suddenly, Jinsol stops sucking you off and strokes your shaft hard.

“Baby, you’re so good at that. Don’t you fucking stop.” Her words made you move your fingers even faster into her. She replies in earnest by sucking your cock even harder.

Eventually, both of you can’t hold it any longer. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, baby! I’m gonna cum!” Jinsol said and continued her assault on your dick. 

“Me…too…” You replied back with a breathy voice. 

Jinsol came first, violently. She arches her back as the floodgates opened and you were rewarded handsomely with her sweet nectar. You tried to take it all in but she came so much that it was starting to leak out of your mouth and dripped onto your neck. Meanwhile, your cock twitches and explodes inside Jinsol’s mouth. She lowered her head and tried to take all your cum in but was unsuccessful because of the large volume of your load.

Both of you were struggling to breathe after your intense orgasms. Jinsol looks back at you and stares deeply into your warm brown eyes. She then removes her body off you and plops back on the bed. She kissed you on the lips. Each connection sent small jolts of electricity jolting through your body. The taste of her strawberry lipstick mixed with your cum was amazing. After making out for a period of time, both of you pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva.

“I taste pretty good.” You said.

“Yeah, I love how I taste too. Now, let’s-” You interrupted Jinsol by pinning her down, kissing her again, quickly grabbing her shirt and throwing it off the bed. Jinsol smirked and did the same, except that she ripped your shirt off you.

“You look good.” Jinsol complimented you, biting her lower lip as her eyes hungrily eyed your exposed body.

“You look even better without this.” You removed her black top to reveal her breasts that were being covered with a blue laced bra. Her breasts weren’t the biggest, but were enough for you to fully grab a handful. Your impatience took over your admiration of them and you pulled her bra off, exposing her plentiful breasts. Jinsol moaned over your actions as the cool nighttime air made contact with her exposed skin.

Now the both of you are finally naked together. You start off by kissing her cheeks, creating a trail as you make your way through her neck and eventually, her breasts. You immediately dive into her pink nipples which were already stiff. Jinsoul softly moans into your ear, enjoying what you were doing to her body. You sucked her left nipple, then moved to the right. The breast that wasn’t in your mouth was being fondled by your hand.

Jinsol was shivering with pleasure. She didn’t get relaxed, however. Instead, she reaches for your cock and starts stroking it. You moaned slightly because of her actions. After having fun with her soft flesh, you pepper her stomach with kisses and trace her abdomen by licking it with your tongue.

“Baby, do you love me?” Jinsol suddenly asked.

“Of course, noona. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You answered with no hesitation.

“Then, prove your love by fucking me as hard as you can.” Jinsol’s dirty talk has made your cock throb even harder than before.

Fueled by Jinsol’s dirty talk just now, you turned her body around so her back was facing you and lifted her up so she was on her fours. Before lining your cock with her dripping pussy, you spanked her round ass several times.

“F-Fuck! Slap my ass again, baby.” Jinsol moaned.

You spanked her again and again, gaining a series of loud moans.

Your cock was now in between her dripping heat. It felt so warm, inviting. This was the moment that you have always been dreaming about and you don’t wanna lose this chance. You started by teasing the outside of her folds, collecting her nectar that was dripping. 

“Stop teasing me already, baby...” Jinsol moaned at the feeling of your hard cock nudging her entrance.

You grabbed her wide hips, aiming your cock and started to push into her slick folds. Both of you gasped and moaned. You never felt the feeling of a vagina before in your life and never knew how tight they could really be. You pushed into Jinsol even more, feeling her walls wrapping your shaft. Jinsol was lost in pleasure, leaning her head back and enjoying how you felt inside of her. Eventually, all of your cock went in. You savored the feeling of her plump ass against your crotch.

You slowly pull away from her pussy and stop before your tip comes out. You pushed into her again and repeated the process as the both of you were getting accustomed to it. You found a perfect rhythm and started to thrust into Jinsol. Her pussy walls felt warm with your dick embedded in her. Jinsol was a moaning mess, getting louder with each thrust.

“Fuck baby, you’re so big and hard.”

“You’re so fucking tight, noona.”

Slowly but steadily, you increased the pace of your thrusts. Jinsol’s erotic sounds were being an encouragement for you to keep yourself pumping into her. You love how cute she moaned for your cock and how gorgeous she looks being satisfied with your thrusts.

You fucked Jinsol even harder and harder. You wanted to kiss her, so you grabbed her shoulder and pulled her upright so that she’s leaning against your chest. You kissed her lips passionately. 

“Yes, fuck me harder. Turn me into your little slut, baby!” Jinsol’s words went right in your ear and of course, you followed what she said. Her walls were constricting your shaft even more. Your right hand reached towards her breasts, fondling it to give more pleasure to the woman that you love.

Her walls were becoming even tighter as you touched her breasts. Your pace didn’t slow down however, it was increasing like crazy, to the point where her ass is making clapping sounds with your crotch. Jinsoul was in euphoria, being a cute little mess. 

“Baby, h-harder please. I wanna cum all over your fucking cock.”

You put your left hand on her clit and rubbed it while thrusting even faster into her. Her moans have become music to your ears, giving you the strength to keep thrusting into her.

Jinsol then buried her face into the bed. Spreading her legs apart, you began thrusting inside her. You watched as Jinsol squeezed her tits, pinching her nipples as you fucked her hard. You made sure she could feel each thrust.

“Your cock feels so fucking good, I love it so much!” Jinsol moaned loudly, her walls squeezing the life out of your cock as you fucked her. 

Jinsol closed her eyes while she grabbed onto the sheets tightly, desperately hanging on while chasing her impending orgasm. You roughly fucked her as her body moved in time with your thrusts.

“Oh fuck!” She screamed as you held her body tightly in place, your hands making a deep impression on her hips.

“Baby, I’m cumming!”

Ultimately, she shrieks and came hard on your cock. Her walls tighten around you deliciously as you feel her juices flood your cock and begin to seep out, staining both of your thighs. You watched as Jinsol’s body trembled violently, her breathing becoming erratic as your thrusts gradually began to slow down in order to allow her to ride out her euphoric high. 

“Baby… that was amazing.” she said quietly, her mouth still open. You kept a tight hold on her as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I came so fucking hard...” She then looks back towards you.

“You haven’t cum yet, baby. I want your load deep inside of me, so come fuck me again.” Jinsol’s dirty talk reinvigorated you as you pulled out your cock from her and turned her around so that she was facing you. She was covered in sweat but still as beautiful as always. You were lost in her gaze for a couple of seconds.

“Noona, I love you.” You blurted out unexpectedly.

“I love you too, baby.”

You spread her legs to reveal her still dripping pussy. You put both of your hands beside her and lined up your cock with her vagina. Jinsol wrapped her arms around your neck, ready to receive your shaft.

“Ready?”

“Always.”

You pushed yourself into her slowly until your dick fully disappeared into her folds. Both of you moaned together at the euphoric feeling. You pull out from her pussy, leaving the tip and slamming her with a long thrust. She moans in pleasure of your cock being deep inside of her tight hole.

You started to fuck Jinsol in a slow pace. Words couldn’t describe how good the both of you felt fucking while facing each other. Her mouth was open, filling both of your ears with her lustful moans.

“Ahh, baby, I love how deep your dick is inside of me.” Jinsol moaned, her eyes rolling back because of the intense pleasure you were giving her.

“Your pussy feels amazing, noona. It’s so tight and warm.” You replied as you began to thrust faster into her. Jinsol was moaning even louder, following the rhythm of your thrusts. You lifted her feet up and placed them on your shoulders, allowing your cock to enter her even deeper.

Jinsol’s breasts were jiggling up and down and you couldn't help yourself from grabbing onto them while you fuck her. She was obviously aroused by this as you took her right nipple into your mouth. Your pace was getting even faster as the wet sounds of your crotches hitting each other could be heard.

Jinsol suddenly grabbed onto your back and scratched it with her nails. You moaned at her action and the erotic act caused you to pound her even harder. Her juices were splashing against both of your crotches, allowing you to slide in and out with ease. Her pussy was getting tighter and tighter as you pound into her. The only sounds that were being heard in your room were wet flesh and your bodies clapping together.

You thrusted into her as hard as you could. The room felt cold because of the rain outside, but you and Jinsol were drenched in sweat from the heat your bodies were producing. How Jinsol was moaning because of your dick, how warm and tight she was, how her breasts were jiggling up and down while you thrust into her, all of it was too much for you to handle.

“Harder…” she said, sweat dripping off her body and onto the bed sheets. Her eyes slowly began to droop lazily as she struggled to stay conscious.

“You’re so fucking deep, baby. Oh my god...” She cried out, surprising the both of you as she was still able to form coherent sentences. Eventually, that same sensation in her stomach came to her once more.

“Baby, I’m cumming again!” Jinsol screamed.

“Cum…I’m cumming too, noona!” Your words came out in between each breath.

“Yes, cum inside your noona baby!”

Jinsol’s loud screams and your harsh groans reverberated around the apartment as you fucked her until the pressure building inside you released. You suddenly felt a knot in your stomach, marking your inevitable end. You kissed Jinsol before you exploded all your load into her warm cavern, causing her to have another orgasm. You slowed down your pace and thrust deeper into her so your cum can reach deeper into her cunt. Both of your toes curled from the pleasure as your cock throbbed and released several weaker thrusts inside Jinsol. Her body was still shaking from the aftershocks when her body collapsed on top of yours, your cock still inside her.

After a minute of Jinsol milking everything out from your cock, you pulled out from her, watching how the mixture of your cum and her juices was leaking out from Jinsol’s delicious pussy. You laid down beside her, breathing heavily with your cock glistening in the nighttime light.

“Baby, that was amazing. You fucked me so well.”

“Yeah, it felt great…”

“Uhh, noona? Are you okay? I kinda smacked your ass hard just now.” You asked quickly after, a bit concerned after what you did to her.

“Ahh you’re so silly, baby. Of course I’m okay! I love it when you smack my ass.” Jinsol laughed after her statement. The room went quiet for a moment.

“Noona?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Do you really love me? Not just because I’m good at sex?”

“Baby, I have loved you since the beginning. Not because you have a big dick or you were so good at eating my pussy. It’s because I love your personality and how great of a guy you are. The other things are just a plus.” Jinsol said while staring at you. You were staring at the ceiling to avoid meeting her gaze out of embarrassment.

“…Thanks, noona.” You slowly looked at Jinsol and hugged her. Jinsol reciprocates the hug while smiling. After hugging, you looked into each other's eyes. You both then kissed passionately, not caring what the consequences that the both of you were going to face. After a tender makeout that somehow lasted thirty minutes, Jinsol speaks up.

“Now, let’s clean up, shall we?” You both got off the bed and Jinsol dragged you by the hand into the shower of your room. She turns the shower heads on before stepping into the bathtub and holding onto your hand for you to enter as well.

The warm water calms down your aching muscles from the act earlier, giving you a sense of relaxation. It then becomes scalding hot, making you remember how much Jinsol loved hot showers. Once both of you were fully wet, she grabbed the nearby loofah and poured some body wash onto it. A lightbulb was turned on in Jinsol’s head, and so she decided to put on an erotic show for you by lathering up her deceptively curvy body with the soapy loofah. Her hands went up to her breasts, groping them gently and teasing her nipples until she felt your cock becoming hard again in between her thighs due to the close proximity between you two.

“Baby, you just came two times and you’re already this hard again?” She teased, biting her lower lip.

“I can’t help myself when there’s a beautiful naked woman with me in the shower.” You replied, making Jinsol blush.

“Alright, let’s clean you up.” 

Jinsol took her time in washing you, making sure every inch of your skin is covered in the lavender scented body wash. As she traces the loofah, drawing her name on your chest and down to your stomach, she stops on your lower body. Holding your cock in her hands, she runs the loofah across it, creating a tingling sensation in your body. Jinsol smiled as she slowly began to stroke you while softly biting your nipples. You let out a moan because of the stimulation and slowly move backwards until your legs bump into the edge of the tub, making you sit down on the cold and slippery surface. Then, Jinsol straddles your lap and your hard cock pressed against her stomach as she gave you another passionate, lust-filled kiss.

You finally break the kiss when you both feel too lightheaded and need oxygen. Jinsol does her best to catch her breath, her pink lips slightly puffy and her cheeks flushed. She was the most beautiful woman in the world in your eyes and there was nothing that could change that.

“I thought we were gonna get clean-ahh…” You were cut off by Jinsol’s lips finding their way to the place where your lower jaw and neck meet, nibbling on the skin as she leaves hickeys behind, marking you as hers.

“But I want you so bad, baby.” She murmured just loud enough for you to hear, causing goosebumps to form on your body and your cock to throb against her stomach.

Wrapping her arms around your neck, Jinsol lowers her body as she guides your cock back inside her. The two of you moaned as she slowly lowered herself onto you until she had reached your base completely. Jinsol watched you close your eyes as her tight, velvety walls wrap themselves tightly around you once more. She began bouncing her body up and down, her ass jiggling each time. Her body unconsciously tightens her muscles around you, providing a feeling you couldn’t put into words.

“Noona…do that again.” You breathlessly said.

Jinsol clenched her vaginal muscles around your cock again, tightening you in a firm grip and earning herself your cries of pleasure.

Your hands rested on her cheeks once more, watching Jinsol bounce on your lap. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when you accidentally discovered a certain sensitive spot within her. With each roll of your hips, you make sure to hit that pressure point.

“Fuck, that feels so fucking good.” She moaned when you took her erect nipples inside your mouth, gently biting on them and mirroring what she did to you.

“Yes baby…” She said as her stomach began to feel heavy, the knot inside her twisting. You continue pounding her newfound sensitive spot, feeling Jinsol’s sharp nails raking your back with scratches as her body trembles with an arriving orgasm.

“Baby!” She screamed repeatedly. You continued rocking Jinsol back and forth and side to side as a way to prolong the duration of her impending orgasm.

“Baby, please...” She begged, blowing hot air gently into your ear and encouraging you to keep going. 

Her eyes fully rolled back into her head as your hips crashed against hers. The water was no longer burning hot, but neither of you cared about the temperature change - only focusing on each other. Jinsol felt so comfortable on your lap and in your arms that her eyes began drooping.

“N-Noona, I’m cumming!” You said, the only semblance of a warning as you made a powerful thrust deep inside her pussy. Your cock throbs as her tight, velvety walls clamped onto your dick. You began pouring hot, thick semen inside Jinsol which once again causes her own orgasm to occur. Both of you are moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Ahh fuck baby...” Jinsol moaned as it seemed like her body’s default reaction to her orgasms was for her eyes to roll to the back of her head. Her body wriggles in pleasure as she continues lacing together incoherent moans and explicit syllables that made no sense.

Slowly lifting up her hips, you watched as thick gobs of your semen and her juices slowly dripped out of her freshly fucked pussy. You were surprised you were still able to release such a large amount of cum due to your two orgasms that you had earlier. When the two of you are finished, you both catch your breath as she leaned down and gave you tender, passionate kisses. Jinsol is fully satisfied, happy to be in your arms again. But this time, it had a different, a more special meaning. 

After spending two hours having sex in the shower that ended up being dirtier rather than getting clean, you and Jinsol quickly get dressed to go to Seoul to drop her off because she had planned to go shopping with your mom. She didn’t bring any clothes with her, so she borrowed some of yours. She wore one of your hoodies and a pair of shorts that complimented her figure nicely. When she came out from your room after dressing up, you instantly chuckled at how cute she looked wearing your clothes.

“You look so cute, noona!”

“Of course, your noona looks good in everything. Let’s go now, I don’t wanna be late.”

“Okay Jingolas-nim!” You said to her and opened the front door for her. She just glared cutely at you and went out the door. Meanwhile, you smiled, thinking how your life is complete with the newfound existence of an intimate relationship with your stepsister, Jung Jinsol.

[rsmrymnt-tea]

lia/ oh dear it's been a while. i access tumblr through the browser and i had deleted my account so i couldn't go through in peace without it asking me to login but now it's fine- anyways im doing alright now, what about you?! also, i would also like to know about dola-beel dynamics!!

You deleted blog??? :0 Did you remake? I'm happy to hear that you're doing okay tho! I'm personally like, struggling a little lmao but it'll pass soon.

dhfkghg Beel and Dola! Gosh I think that makes it so that pretty much everyone's been asked about except her two boyfriends (which is exactly how I wanted this to go tbh I need to talk about he relationship with everyone else since 90% of the time I just talk about dola/sol and dola/satan >w<)

So for Beel and Dola, it's another one of the smoother beginnings. She had the fortunately luck of carrying around a few candy bars with her in the bag she'd been whisked to the Devildom with. Remember how Lucifer told him to endure his hunger when he was complaining about it during your first meeting with them? Dola mentally goes "fuck you" to Lucifer and hands Beel her little snacks.

Which makes for a pleasant start! Once Dola's fixed her schedule with Satan's help and picked out her uniform with Asmo's, they both procure all of them out of a seemingly magical storage room with Beel's help. Beel helps Dola take her things to the HoL when Mammon doesn't show up and is also the one to show her to her room. By the time they get there, Barbatos has finished transporting her things, they have a chill chat where she asks questions about the HoL, and then they part ways.

And all that sort of sets up how their relationship pans out for most of the year? They don't really have too much in common and neither of them are very talkative people. It's a lot of pleasant, relaxed small talk and Beel asking her if she has any food on her when he starts getting really hungry (which he usually does, though she's learnt to stagger how much she gives him for emergencies). He's really happy that she shares her human world snacks with him because those are a rarity in the Devildom (tho sometimes Levi orders some for him off of Akuzon)

They grow closer after she ends up becoming temporary roommates with him after he smashes her wall. The bits where he opens up to her mostly follow canon, though she already knows who Belphegor is because she has a brain and can deduce that the one guy who isn't whose portrait is up on the walls. Dola definitely wonders how the hell Belphie's his twin when Beel is so... not like that. But then catches Beel's banter with his brothers and realizes that ah, he's can be cutthroat when he wants to lmao

After that, and after Lucifer nearly kills her for trying to defend both him, he starts getting more protective and more proactive in making sure she's fine, both by making sure nothing happens to her (whenever her usual chaperone of Satan isn't around) and by making sure she actually takes care of herself once he notices that she has a tendency to skip meals and lose out on sleep so that she can cram some more acads into her day. She appreciates the concern, really, but reassures him that she's fine. Beel then eventually teams up with Asmo once he also has a pact with her to get her to relax more.

Dola's honestly very touched that Beel goes through the trouble. She's even more touched when he starts offering her food, though the mood's immediately spoiled by how shocked everyone else is.

Still, they don't really have too much in common up until a few years later when Dola decides she's had enough of being a noodle and starts working out and learning how to fight from Beel. At first he was a bit apprehensive but eventually realized he's really the most qualified out of all of them to teach her how to fight considering his former role as Lucifer's official bodyguard, and after their first session honestly thrilled to do this for her because he'd honestly been looking for some way to repay her for saving his life in the reaper's cave but just couldn't figure out how.

Aside from those training sessions, she usually tries her best to gather him and the other brothers together for some actual family bonding because it's clear to her that he's the most openly family oriented out of all of them. I also feel like they're grocery shopping buddies and tend to go to the last full viewing of a movie together? The former because she can keep him from eating the groceries of their way back and the latter because he can eat as much as he wants without bothering anyone + she likes that there's no one around. The movie night becomes a regular thing that some of the others join in depending on the movie and it makes Beel pretty happy.

Beel's also someone Dola goes to for advice sometimes, surprisingly with relationship advice (and I like to think Satan does the same shddfg and Beel thinks it's cute but never says anything, the little shit). He's emotionally intelligent and doesn't make things complicated (something Asmo sometimes does) and he's straightforward with his answers (something Mammon sometimes struggles with). Actually, Beel's really refreshing when it comes to real talk! Probably the easiest to talk to for Dola, next to Satan, and he's very grounding.

Can't really talk about Beel without addressing Lesson 16 though, which of course takes a toll on Dola's relationship with Beel. The fact that they're twins and are constantly in each others' company has her keeping her distance from Beel as well, and Beel doesn't really know what to do about it or how to process the fact that he felt just how gleeful Belphie was when he murdered Dola both times. But Beel can also feel the heavy guilt weighing down on Belphie, and the frustration he feels at the distance he's wedged between himself and his brothers.

Things are understandably very difficult when Beel goes to apologize to Dola, and it's... A hard conversation that needed to happen several times before it can really go anywhere. Because the moment Beel tries to apologize on Belphie's behalf, Dola's not having it and walks out.

But well. Eventually things do get better between them, it's not like Beel did anything wrong, really. He's honestly part of why Dola eventually does buy that Belphie's sincerely apologetic because while she doesn't trust Belphie, she trusts Beel.

hwsjfdhg This ended up a lot longer than I thought it would but y'know how it is with me >.<

[destiniesfic]

A little dark!Alina for Tumblr user @darkalinas​. Merry Christmas, Maven! I was your Secret “Sankta” for @darklinadaily​’s Darklina Secret Santa. 👼 I had a blast writing this and I hope you like it. ♥

Fandom: Grishaverse (post-Ruin and Rising and King of Scars) Pairings: Darklina & Malina Word Count: 5,000 Rating: T+ Summary: Three years after the end of the Ravkan Civil War, the woman once known as Alina Starkov begins to dream.

Or: he can go anywhere he wants (just not home).

Read on AO3 or read below:

It would have been easy to think the mistress of Keramzin, who saw that the orphans straggling through her door were fed and cared for, little more than a girl herself. Boys of twelve seemed tall beside her, and the more daring among them would ask her to stand back to back with them so they could measure the difference in height and come away whooping at how they’d grown. She wore her hair unbraided and walked the halls with bare feet. Sometimes she would lose herself in a daydream and move to tackle a different section of her latest mural with her brush still wet in her hand, trailing little drips of paint like a line of kisses on the floorboards.

But appearances deceived, for the girl was a woman now, and married. She and her husband took their meals sitting among the teachers and staff, not their charges, although either of them could be tugged away from the table with the slightest excuse. Some of the youngest children, confused by her snow white hair, called her Baba like she was a grandmother. Though she was still a young woman, she sometimes moved stiffly, after she had sat too long or hunched her shoulders up to her ears while she painted, like whatever she had done before coming here siphoned some of her youth away.

When the woman slept at night, it was stretched out beside her husband under a warm duvet, safe. Neither of them dreamed often, and when they did they dreamt mainly of sunlight dancing over skin, of the woods’ silent call. But the other times, the few bad times, he was there when the nightmares reached for her with greedy fingers.

“It’s all right,” he would whisper, gathering her into his arms. “You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Although they were the right words, the things a person should say, her mouth always went dry before she could tell him that she knew.

When one night she arose from their bed in the very early hours, nothing seemed wrong. She had not woken from a nightmare, just suddenly, with no preamble and no cause. Her husband slept on beside her, his brown hair rumpled, one shoulder, sun-kissed from work outdoors, turned toward the ceiling. She thought about kissing it, but she didn’t want to wake him. She left her bed and went to the window, sitting on the bench in front of it and looking out at the pond.

The moon was strong tonight, a silver dish suspended in the sky. Everything she touched—the grass, the sliver of creek—seemed to glow. Her light spilled in through the window, washing the floor and the foot of the bed in desaturated hues, somehow making them both more and less. Where the light did not reach, shadows pooled on the floor like tar.

Most people thought that darkness was the absence of light, its opposite. She knew a different truth. Without light, there could be no shadow. Where one ventured, the other kept close.

And then, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw one of the shadows move.

She spun around, but her room was as she always knew it: sleeping husband, solid oakwood furniture, dead fire in the grate. Across the room, a ghost stared back at her, hollow-cheeked and bright-eyed. She startled, but it was only her reflection in the full-length mirror. Then, in her periphery, motion: darkness like smoke, sliding under the closed door and into the hall.

She followed.

The rebuilt Keramzin was completely dark this time of night, orphans and staff alike asleep, lost to their own dreams of tomorrow. Patches of moonlight glimmered at her feet, but the shadows between them seemed to grow darker, deeper, until she thought she might fall into them if she took a step forward. Yawning chasms, or hungry mouths.

This was like no dream she could remember. As far as she could see there was no one beside her, no one behind her. Yet she could feel a presence, she would swear to it. Something winding around her, working its way up her body. Something with a voice.

Alina, it murmured. A name only her husband called her now, when the fire was dying and they were alone, the children tucked safely in their beds.

“Alina is dead,” she said. “No one here has that name.”

A lie—Ravkans began naming their daughters for the Sun Summoner as soon as they learned of her. There were two little Alinas, both under four, in the nursery where the youngest children slept. But she didn’t think this phantom cared for technicalities.

The voice chuckled. Are you really so eager to forget yourself? She felt the brush of lips against her ear, but when she turned her head there was nothing. She was alone in the darkened hall, and she thought he had left, but then a whisper slithered into her other ear. Are you so eager to forget who you are?

“I am the mistress of Keramzin,” she told the voice. “I am the painter of these walls. I am the guardian of these children. I have made my home here, and if you won’t leave it, I will drive you out myself.”

There was silence. Then:

With what power?

“Darling?”

She turned. Her husband stood in the doorway of their room, his hair sticking up endearingly at odd angles, pajamas slung low on his hips. The shadows reverted to their normal shade, strangely innocent, keeping their secrets.

“What is it?” he asked. “I heard you talking.”

She blinked back to herself and reached for a plausible explanation. “I don’t know. Must have been sleepwalking.”

He nodded, distantly, then walked over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Back to bed,” he said, a yawn stretching the last word wide.

“Back to bed,” she agreed, but not without a last glance over her shoulder.

---

“Have you heard from our friend in Os Alta?” the woman asked her husband over breakfast that morning.

That’s what they called the king, that or sometimes their friend in the palace. They had a handful of friends in Os Alta, of course, the lingering remnants of another life entirely. But those friends—the Grisha Triumvirate, the king’s bodyguards, and others—could be mentioned by name occasionally. Davids and Nadias were common enough. Nikolais were, too, but it was better to be cautious with him. Better to leave nothing to chance.

Her husband frowned. “No,” he said. “Were you expecting something?”

She shrugged. They had briefly housed the king’s escort a few weeks back, sans king; the orphans had crowded the windows to gawk at the gilded carriage. When the riders went on their way to the palace, she sent a letter with them. Nothing serious, for there was nothing serious to report from Keramzin, just well-wishes and a request for news from the court. The king was a lively correspondent and usually quick to reply, happy to unburden himself of gossip or fears which he could not, or would not, share with courtiers.

“I wrote to him,” she said, spooning sugar into her tea. “But I haven’t heard back. He’s probably busy.”

“Busy choosing a wife,” her husband replied, with a hint of a snort and a solemn undercurrent that said he did not envy the king one bit.

The woman looked into the glassy surface of her tea. “I forgot,” she murmured, though that news had reached them even in Keramzin and the staff had been buzzing about it for weeks. A royal betrothal was a rare event, and an important one.

Her husband bumped her knee with his, and teased, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed, and smiled at him. That ship had sailed long ago.

Still, it bothered her that she hadn’t heard from her friend. She knew that court obligations must be keeping him occupied, especially with eligible young women swarming the capital, but she wished she had a letter back so she could reply in kind. He was the only person who understood the way darkness had lodged itself between her ribs like a long thorn, reaching to pierce her heart. If she could just slip in a question about his demons, if she could just have reassurance that all was well with him, then maybe she would cease to worry about the impossible.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent of her tea. It seemed silly to have those fears here. The air was bright with the chatter of children being herded into their first lessons of the day, with cooking smells, with autumn sun. Half the walls were covered in paintings of fantastical scenes, her own doing, and she wondered if she had been trying to create a ward to keep the darkness out.

“I heard there were earthquakes last night,” her husband said, changing the subject. “Maybe that’s what woke you.”

She frowned. “Earthquakes? Here?”

“All over Ravka. As far south as Dva Stolba.”

Dva Stolba. A shiver ran down her spine. “Why do they think it happened?”

“An act of nature,” said her husband, unbothered. “These things happen, beloved.”

The woman nodded and looked back into her tea. Strange things had been happening all year, it seemed—bridges of bone, statues sprouting flowers, forests falling in the night. It might mean nothing.

And yet when she tried to paint that day, her blues kept running into her blacks, and shadows marred her paintings like bruises. She retired to her room early, dreading her dreams.

---

She did not dream that night, nor the next, nor the one after that, and she breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that her husband was right, that things do happen. That sometimes earthquakes were only earthquakes, and dreams only dreams.

The next time she woke unexpectedly it was to the sound of a bright, sustained note, like ringing in her ears. Someone was playing the piano downstairs. One of the kids must have gotten up and decided to wander around in the night.

Her husband slept on next to her, bracketing her back, and she knew it would fall to her to handle this before the playing woke up the rest of the orphanage. She sighed, pushed her hair back from her face, and slipped out of bed, quietly pulling the door to behind her.

The child fooling around with the piano kept playing and holding the same note, as if not sure where to go from the single key they’d discovered. It was in one of the upper octaves, and although she’d begun to learn how to play the piano alongside some of her more gifted charges, she did not have the knack for knowing which note it was.

But when her feet found the cold tile of the foyer and she hurried to the drawing room where the piano stood, she saw the person sitting at the keys was not a child at all.

The phantom had shape now. He wore a long cloak of all black, with the hood pulled up to cast his face in shadow. She knew what he would look like if he drew it down, and it was that terrible knowledge which rooted her to the spot. He sat on the piano bench like there was real weight to him.

“You’re not here,” she said, as if the words alone were a revocation, a shield.

The phantom pressed the piano key again, and the note held, high and wavering, suspended in the air between them. She looked around, thinking it might wake the staff, or maybe some of the children would stumble bleary-eyed from their rooms, but in her heart she knew no one would come.

“You’re not real,” she insisted.

“Come and sit,” he said. His voice was cool like a poisoned spring at the height of summer, the last drink of the desperate.

She refused to slip into the well of him and stayed where she was, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re in my home.”

“Yes, and such work you’ve done, rebuilding it.” He didn’t need to remind her that he had once burnt Keramzin to the ground, slaughtered all those that had a hand in raising her. She could hear the smile in his voice, picture the way his lips curved under that hood. “Sit with me. I’ll be on my way soon enough.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Would you believe a dead man’s word?”

She shook her head. She wouldn’t have believed him when he was alive. “All you’ve ever done is lie, dead or not.”

“I bent the truth to my will, Alina. I omitted.” There it was again, the name that was hers and wasn’t. She hated the tenderness with which he said it, the same her husband’s voice held when he called her beloved, or my heart.

“A lie of omission is still a lie,” she said.

He made a small, skeptical sound, and then began to play in earnest, coaxing sad, strange music from a piano more accustomed to the clumsy fumblings of students. She had never heard a song like this, composed of discordant notes that didn’t quite fit together and made the hair on her arms stand on end. She found herself moving closer to the piano, watching his bone-white fingers move over the ivory keys, trying to figure out how he was doing it.

He softened his playing, gentled his touch, so that he could speak to her with his head still bowed. “How long has it been since you’ve seen my face at night?”

“Years,” she whispered. Another lie. She couldn’t keep him from entering her thoughts, the man she’d almost loved, the man she killed. She would go weeks at a time without thinking of him, and then he’d glide into her last thoughts before sleep, or she’d feel her husband’s callused hands on her skin and think of the one breathless night he’d gripped her thigh and nearly had her, all of the other evenings that weren’t.

“Would you like to see it again?”

“No.”

He chuckled and stopped playing, then reached up to draw back his hood.

At first she saw only what she expected: his familiar, beautiful face, with its high cheekbones, his thick, dark hair, his cruel mouth curving up at the corner. There were the faint scars that marked his survival of the time she stranded him on the Fold. But that was what she wanted to see. The other half of his face was a rotten mess. Mottled grey skin flaked away from bone, a dark hollow gaped where his eye should be. There were no lips to hide his straight white teeth, and no nose at all. How he would have rotted, if he hadn’t burned.

He smiled.

She screamed.

The cook, emerging from her room to set out breakfast, found her asleep at the keys, her forearm slung in front of the music rack, pillowing her forehead.

---

The woman was led to her bed, skin hot, buried in blankets as soft and heavy as the first snow of winter. A doctor from the nearby town was summoned to diagnose her with influenza, told her husband to see to it that she rested and drank her tea. She had always been prone to sickness when the weather changed–except for the one glorious, blazing year that her ill health could not touch her, when the light she wielded kept it at bay.

She gave that up. She was supposed to have her happily-ever-after.

“I saw him, Mal,” she said, clutching at her husband’s sleeve as he pressed a cool compress to her forehead. “I saw him.”

“Your temperature’s still high,” he replied, cupping her cheek in his work-roughened hand. She closed her eyes. “Fever dreams. He’s gone, love. You saw to that.”

Later, she saw her husband standing in the door, speaking in a low voice to the doctor, asking about paranoia, about delusions, about what it meant that his wife saw ghosts. The doctor shook his head, told him she needed to sweat it out, that after a few days she would be right as rain.

She told no one there was a weight on her chest that had nothing to do with her flu.

But her body won its fight eventually. After a few days her skin cooled, and instead of sipping clear broth from a bowl held carefully by one of the orphanage nurses, she was able to join the rest of Keramzin at dinner, seated at her husband’s side. The staff all greeted her warmly and told her how much better she looked, even though she knew they whispered about the circles under her eyes even when she was well.

Sitting there in the dining room, she was struck suddenly by a sense of profound dissatisfaction with her life. Why should she endure gossip and speculation? Why should she have her counsel so easily disregarded by the physician, by her husband, her words of warning dismissed as flights of fancy? She, who had been a saint. She, who was nearly queen. Why—

But then one of the little girls threw her arms around the woman’s legs and said, “Baba, I’m glad you’re better,” and the world righted itself. She let her hand rest on the back of the girl’s silken head, and breathed.

---

“Keep me awake tonight,” she told her husband later, as they turned down the gas lamps and climbed into bed. “I don’t want to dream.”

“You need your rest,” he replied, smoothing a lock of white hair back from her face.

She twined her arms around his shoulders. “I’m not glass,” she murmured. “I won’t break. Keep me up.”

He tried his best, and so did she, but sleep, ever the creditor, claimed its debts in the end. Although at first she did not realize she was asleep, having sild into it sideways; one moment she watched her husband’s chest rise and fall, and the next she blinked, and the waning moon had moved outside the window. The back of her neck prickled with the creeping certainty that she was being watched. There was someone else in the room with them.

She reached for her sleeping husband to wake him, to tell him, to show him, but her hand passed over his shoulder like rain running down a windowpane. She jerked it back, as if she had burned it. Her husband didn’t stir.

“He won’t wake,” said the soft, cool voice from behind her. “You’re in my domain now.”

The woman closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking. “I thought it was ours,” she said after a moment. “Not yours. I could call to you, too.”

“But you haven’t, have you, Alina?”

“There’s no point calling on a dead man.”

“Am I so dead?”

The more fool her, expecting a nightmare to know he was deceased. The more fool her, for thinking him just a nightmare. She turned over, holding her blankets close to her chest, and found a figure standing at her bedside, nearly human, not a shadow, not half corpse.

She blinked up at him. “You’re whole now.”

“I only wanted to remind you of the damage you did,” he said.

How could she forget? She killed both him and her husband that day, so much heart’s blood gouting warm over her hands. If one had returned to her, it didn’t seem so unlikely that the other would as well, even though she’d watched him burn.

But she wondered if that was it, or if he simply had the strength now to appear as he liked. He had been formless at first, just a whisper in her ear. Now he stood at her bedside, lifelike. His hood was pushed back from his face, and the moonlight glimmered on his sharp, elegant cheekbones, haloed his dark hair. His scars, which had appeared after she stranded him on the Fold, were gone. He looked down at her with his pale grey eyes, and she very much wished she were clothed.

“What do you want?” she asked, smoothing her hand over the blankets.

“A word. A walk.”

“And what if I don’t want to give you those things?”

His mouth curved into a smile, but she read sadness in his eyes. “Then I will come again, Alina. The tracker may think he has you in the day, but your nights are mine.”

She closed her eyes again and imagined him eroding her dreams over and over, until he became the only thought left in her head. She imagined sitting up for days, trying to avoid him. It chilled her blood. If they had thought her paranoid before…

“No tricks,” she told him. “Look away. I need to dress.”

He scoffed, “You act as though we’re strangers.”

“Some things belong to me,” she reminded him. “Look away.”

He pursed his lips, but turned his head away from her. She slipped out of bed, careful not to touch him, and gathered up her discarded nightgown, her underwear, dressing as quickly as she could. She stepped into her slippers, determined to make him wait as long as possible, before asking, “Where are we walking?”

“Around your orphanage, to start.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms and tucked her hands under her armpits so he couldn’t take them.

The door to their room had a squeaky hinge, one her husband had been meaning to grease for a couple of weeks now. When the phantom opened it, it made no sound. She listened, hard, for his footfalls on the floor.

“Tell me, does this life suit you?” he asked, as they walked side by side through the darkened hall, the only two awake in a house, or perhaps a world, of sleepers. “Do you enjoy being painter and patroness?”

“I do,” she said. It did not taste like a lie.

He hummed. “Do you enjoy being a mere wife, when you might have been a queen?”

“Men wanted to make me their queen,” she reminded him. “That was never something I chose for myself.”

“All the more reason you would have been a good one,” he said. “Power is wasted by those who crave it. It’s twisted, perverted, misused. You would have made an excellent queen.”

“That’s a rare moment of self-awareness from you.”

An amused glint lit his eyes, a candle flame in a darkened window. “I never wanted power for power’s sake, Alina. I loved my country.”

“Did you?” She paused for a moment to consider a painted vine snaking around a bannister, which was already beginning to flake off. She scratched at a leaf with her index finger; green came away under her nail. “Then why couldn’t you stop destroying it?”

“Ah,” he said.

“Well?”

“So young, so wise, so married,” he mused, “and yet you know nothing of love.”

He took the stairs without waiting for her to follow. She did, of course, determined to chase him down and to explain all the ways that he was wrong, then realizing, partway down, that he would only take her arguments as defensiveness. So she reminded herself of what she knew. She loved her life. She loved the children in her care. She loved her husband. Her love would not destroy them. It would not destroy her.

But she had loved power, too, once. And now her power was dead.

He waited for her by the two grand double doors that stood at Keramzin’s main entrance. She tried to follow the lines of his cloak with her eyes, but it bled into the shadows at his feet. He watched her steadily.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Now we walk.” And he held out his hand.

She stared at him.

“You won’t get to where we’re going if you don’t take it.” He spread his fingers out a little, beckoning her. “Alina.”

She held his gaze as she slipped her hand into his. She half-expected to feel the surge of power, familiar and wild, that used to always manifest when she touched him. She didn’t feel that, but she didn’t feel nothing. Some dark thing fluttered just to the side of her heart, a fledgling raven not quite ready to leave the nest.

“Aleksander,” she said.

He pushed open the door.

They stepped together, and for a moment it was as if the shadows had swallowed them whole. She felt like she had stepped back into the nothingness of the Fold, an all-consuming, weightless darkness. But then it resolved itself, and she saw that she was in a grey, windowless room. She blinked and pressed her hand to one of the walls, feeling cool stone under her palm. With a surge of panic, she looked over her shoulder and saw the only door was metal and sealed tight.

“This is a cell,” she said, her heart sinking. Had she stepped into a trap without knowing? Would she be able to leave? “Why would you bring me here?”

“A glimpse of the future,” he said, ever inscrutable.

And then his mouth was hot and hard on hers, and her back collided with the wall. She was so surprised that for a moment she didn’t react, for a moment her lips parted and she let herself be kissed, and then she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” she cried, as if someone might hear, someone outside. Someone who could intervene.

“What you want.”

That dark thing fluttered behind her ribcage again. “I have a husband.”

“Your husband,” he said, voice heavy with derision. “The tracker. Have you forgotten? You murdered your husband the day you murdered me.”

“Clearly it didn’t take.” She kept her hands firm on his shoulders. He certainly felt real, firm and strong, all lean muscle.

His laugh was low and dangerous. “Are you so deserving of good things? Are you so deserving of kindness? You put a dagger in both of us, Alina. Tell me why I shouldn’t repay you in kind.”

She felt one of his hands slip up her nightdress, settling on her thigh, a strange echo of the position they’d been in years ago, that very different night. Her blood pulsed hot in her ears, and she knew it was not a dagger he was planning to stick her with. “You’re dead,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. She refused to let him rattle her. “I think that would make it difficult. No blood to spare.”

He gave her a narrow, rueful grin. “If I’m truly dead, does it matter what we do?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His other hand traced a half-circle over her collarbones, where Morozova’s antlers once sat, before gently tilting her chin up. She could not look away from him. In life, there was always such intensity in his gaze, and the gaze of this nightmare, this dream, was no different. “I’m going to kiss you again,” he said. “Tell me to stop, if that’s what you want.”

She didn’t tell him to stop. He was gentler this time, his lips ghosting over her cheek before finding hers, molding to her instead of forcing his way in. She shut her eyes tight, but her grip on his shoulders turned into something else, a near embrace, another battle in their war. She could even smell him, cool and crisp like the approach of winter. His hand was warm on her thigh.

“You have something of mine,” he murmured against her mouth. “Do you know how to use it?”

“What?” she asked breathily.

She felt him smile. “I’m not so far away, Alina,” he said. “Come and find me.”

---

When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of Keramzin’s drive in her nightdress and slippers. Although it was late autumn and a breeze brushed her white hair back from her face like a lover’s fingers, she didn’t feel the cold.

Dawn was just beginning to break in the east, a pink tinge illuminating the dark branches of naked trees. She stood there, watching the morning sun rise, and held her hands up to it, hoping to catch the rays in her palms and hold them for a while. But they glided over her skin, indifferent to what she wanted. She tried not to let her disappointment swallow her. She had felt a tug when he touched her. She had hoped...

But maybe that wasn’t the answer.

“There you are,” said a voice from behind her. She turned and found her husband standing in the door, his feet bare. He had dressed in haste, and his shirt didn’t quite sit right on his shoulders. She saw the nurse peeking out behind him.

“Sleepwalking,” she called from the drive. “Don’t worry.”

“You should come in,” he said. “You’ll make yourself sick again.” She could hear his concern warring with his impulse not to frighten her off. If they could only pretend everything was fine, then everything would be.

“In a minute.” She looked toward the trees bordering the drive, their little patch of forest. “There’s something I want to try.”

“Ali—” he began, then stopped, remembered himself. “Just come in.”

She smiled at him like she couldn’t still feel the ghost of another man’s kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Before he could say another word, she walked off into the trees, where the shadows grew thick like underbrush, even at midday. But it was dawn, with the sun’s light slanting at an angle, and the thick trunks of trees sprouted long, dark shadows that blanketed the leaf-covered ground. She walked until she was sure she could no longer be seen. Eventually, someone would come to bring her in. Better to be quick. Better to be sure.

Alina held out her hands.

The shadows greeted her like an old friend.

[ask-breekon-and-hope]

𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗈𝗇

I DON’T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT MYSELF INDIVIDUALLY.

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗇. 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋.

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟤𝟢𝟢𝟣

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌: 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗊𝗉𝗋 𝖻&𝗁

𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗀𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌.

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 | 𝖺𝗈𝟥 | 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍

He spent decades with them. It took as long for him to choose his name, and he did not put as much thought into it as they did.

The entity that was not Breekon and Hope yet traveled. It fed on the Fears it facilitated; it knew which Fear it was part of, but it did not know the name until Robert Smirke labeled the fourteen centuries later. It was still medieval times, and during this time it discovered gender and sexuality and identity. It did not have a name, but it existed. It was building an identity.

He didn’t spend any time away from them. Together, it watched kingdoms rise and fall and kings go to war and princesses be married off and fear ran rampant throughout it all, and it studied the humans. He spent a few years as a delivery man with them, and both relished in the Fear that followed it, curling around its ankles as it walked and spreading outwards as the Fears themselves spread outwards, forming and shaping around human and animal thoughts, following humans as they evolved and discovered things like lies, and false smiles and the shadows hiding the unknown and faces and words twisted into cruelty, into rot and decay and pain and everything else the Fears fed on. It learned human languages; it took part in a few political debates in the medieval ages, when the Stranger pushed at it and the Spiral lay there ripe and waiting to inject itself into the words of kings and queens and embassies and royal ambassadors.

He never left them. He would never leave them, because he was them and they were him. The entity that was not Breekon and Hope yet understood the importance of itself, and understood that it was not alone. Its other half was as important as it as a whole was, for it with only one half was lonely, and it did not want to be alone.

He was not technically the older one. It had been one entity, and then it had been two. The only real difference was that he happened to be the half formed with more of the comprehension it had as a whole - he was made understanding languages already, and the few nuances of Fear and humans that it had learned in its time being. They were formed with only the desire to exist and not be alone; they understood only to not leave him, and that they wanted a form.

So he wasn’t technically the older one, but he acted like he was. He thought as if he was - he looked at them, almost the same as him except that they had a little longer, darker hair, and their features were a little rounder and softer, and he felt protectiveness rise in him. He knew it was because he was them, and he would want to keep something that was part of himself, but it went both ways. They trusted him just as much, and after they had formed on the sheer desire to exist, he knew it was possible that they could just as easily turn him away as to keep him close.

He was a little overwhelmed with all of this new sensation - with the formation of them, and the banishment of loneliness, came all the things associated with company. It did not much like to talk, not even to itself - but that was because it didn’t need to. It shared thoughts between its two halves, and he found that he liked it when they were happy. They smiled for the first time in their new body, and he felt he had done something right. He smiled as well - and that felt nice, too.

Speaking was not the only thing. Now, he looked back - he looked back when he opened doors, to allow them through; he looked back when they stopped to study whatever new things the humans had made; he looked back when he could no longer feel them behind him, close and moving as easily with him as breathing, and for the first time he felt fear.

That was after he chose his name, however - and a story for another time.

He looked back, and he always knew where they were as much as they knew where he was, and he shared thoughts and desires with them and every time he made them happy, their smile set something strange alight in him. He did not know what it was for centuries - at least, he couldn’t put a name to it. He didn’t want to put a name to it, really. It was simply how he was with them. There was no other way to be with them; having a relationship anything other than what it was was something neither he nor they could imagine.

He chose his name partly because of the feelings that came with company, that came with seeing them and wanting to keep them with him. It took the humans years after it split for the first time to come up with the word, and he did not learn of it for another two years, when they went inside a bookstore and read to him a passage.

The book was about a princess and a knight, as all the stories were. But the difference with this was- the princess was a girl, and so was the knight, and they had seen each other before the princess had gone.

They read it to him, and he found himself strangely captivated, in a way most other human inventions and stories didn’t. Then again, it was them reading it. He had found he couldn’t really not pay attention to them.

The princess knew the knight’s habits - she had spent days with her, riding horses, talking, and all manner of other things, when the princess lost her bodyguards and ran away with the knight. He felt the sliver of Fear as they read the words of the princess’ kidnapping, how she was taken, and for the first time, he wanted more.

Not more Fear, no - the story held no more Fear, he could sense that. He wanted more story. He wanted to know what happened to them, to the two girls who were separated and which only one of them had the power to rescue the other. Not for vanity, not for the triumph of marrying the girl, but simply because the knight had known her before and she wanted the princess to stay with her.

The princess lit a beacon, the story read. She lit a beacon into the night, and though her escape attempt failed and she was taken back, the knight knew where she was now. The knight arrived within two days, and in a day she had the princess back with her.

Beacon, he thought. A light to guide another’s way, a light to guide the person it was meant for.

They stopped reading the story, and looked up at him. He simply smiled, nodded, and thought about beacon.

“Beacon?” they asked, sitting in one of the human establishments. It needed to sleep, eventually, and it had discovered beds were quite comfortable. He laid next to them, in the same bed - it wasn’t awkward. Both knew the other was close, and so they slept, and then they woke, and it was simply how things went.

He hummed. “You’ve been thinking about it,” they continued. That wasn’t out of place - the two did share thoughts, and if he thought hard enough about something, it would convey itself automatically to them, and vice versa. Most of the time, though, neither wanted to keep thoughts to themselves, anyway. Their thoughts just flowed between each other, and keeping track of them all was not entirely that important, as long as they were still connected.

“The word sounds nice,” he replied.

They were quiet, but he could feel their thinking - he trusted them enough not to hone in on every thought they had, but he simply satisfied himself with the feeling that they were thinking, considering things.

It was a long few moments. Usually there were long moments, sometimes hours, where neither of them would talk at all, and would simply sit together, feeling the others emotions and thoughts in a vague, comfortable sense of connectedness to the other.

“I think I am Beacon,” he said, just as he felt them feel that thought from him too, the way the word sat in him and was him, the way it felt in his mouth and referring to himself.

It was off, slightly. He was Beacon… but he wasn’t. There was something missing.

“Because it’s a guiding light?” they asked, a slight teasing tone to their voice. “Romantic of you. Like the humans.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I am not human.”

“We aren’t human,” they revised. His mouth twitched in a small smile, as he felt the line of their arm against his as they lay staring at the ceiling, studying the shadows. On nights like this, the low hum and churn of Fear even became background noise, to the small bubble that the two put themselves in, warmth woven around them.

“Not romantic if we’re not human,” he said.

“Thought you didn’t like the philosophers’ debates.”

“I don’t.”

They sighed in warm exasperation. He turned to his side, and they eventually turned to face him, sensing his thoughts running confused, considering, serious.

“Beacon,” they said, and he frowned. That was wrong.

“No.”

They raised one eyebrow, and didn’t try to make conclusions from the thoughts running through his head.

“Still searching, then?” they asked. He shook his head at that, too.

“I am Beacon. I need to… change it. Twist it.”

He furrowed his brows in thought. Beacon was too general a word. He was not a beacon, he was- their beacon. Theirs specifically, and only theirs. And he didn’t know how to convey that, once he found that conclusion.

They didn’t comment on the clear thought that pierced through the confusion, coming from him, that he was their beacon. It was not romantic. They just knew that was how it was. Neither considered it romantic, when thinking that way came so naturally and easily, and romance as the humans put it was something big and bold and new. This was not new; this was old, and like a well-worn cover of a book, or a loved and frayed blanket.

He thought. They said the word weirdly. They still hadn’t learned human speech entirely, and their words came out just slightly off. He always knew what they were saying, because he could feel the intention behind the pronunciation with the stream of shared thoughts, but now he focused on how they said it.

Beacon. There was a slight rumble there, a slip into an r between the b and the e. It was an easier shape than be, he knew, but this was theirs. He was their beacon, and this was theirs.

“Breekon,” he said, at the same time his thoughts were processed by them, and they felt how right it was at the same time he did.

“Bre-rkon,” they said, struggling even with the ee sound in the middle anyway, and he can’t help but smile.

“Yeah,” he said. They hummed as the two went back to laying on their backs, settling into the night, the energy between them mellowing.

“Sounds right,” they said.

Breekon, he repeated in his mind. Breekon. Beacon. Breekon.

It comes out in their voice, in his head. Every time, and he thinks that yeah, this is him. He will keep the sound of them slipping an r between the letters, and the way the name fits in their mouth and how he himself says it.

It doesn’t feel monumental, really. It’s not something life-changing - he’s just found a piece of who he is, and it’s only natural for that piece, such an important part of him, to still be intrinsically linked to them.

𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍

[pikapals16]

Some OTP3 fluff for Anna x Kat x Cathy?

sorry this took so long but here it is!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30790808

here it is in full if u want:

Kat groans in frustration. Of course poly relationships aren't allowed to get married. When will people ever not be jerks? Not anytime soon unfortunately.

And Kat can't wait that long.

In her second chance at life, it was hard for her (not to say the other queens didn't have it hard too) to accept certain things about her past life and subsequently, her character in this life.

It was really Anna and Cathy who helped her with most of that. She never had a significant relationship with either in their first lives, being strictly cordial, but having known presences made her stick to them a little more.

Then a little more into friends. Then a little more into best friends. Then a little more into crushes. Then a little more into 'what actually are we'. Then a little more into girlfriends. Now hopefully a little more into wives, except they actually can't get married.

None of them are actually sure how their crushes on each other developed, only that it happened, and after talking things through, they took that next step. They also choose to ignore the teasing from the first three queens about how oblivious they initially were.

It just....feels right. The three of them together. And Kat wants to make sure they know she feels that way. Which is why she wanted to get married, but laws. Law prevents it.

You know what? That's not gonna stop her from telling her two loves that she wants to spend the rest of eternity with them. She's gonna do it. She's going to propose to them, whether the world likes it or not.

Cathy sneaks out of her bedroom and into the kitchen to sneak in a cup of coffee before going back to work. So much she has to get done in so little time, and curse her mind for getting creative outbursts at night.

She needs to get this done though, so it's coffee to the rescue. Her savior, other than her girlfriends of course. The last queen had just turned on the coffee machine when she hears a cough behind her.

"What're you doing?" Anna's tone is partially humorous as she already know what her girlfriend is up to. And the silence that follows shows that Cathy knows that she knows. "Cathy, what did we say about coffee at night?" The blue queen sighs.

"No coffee at night..." Smirking, Anna walks over and embraces the shorter girl, in which the latter absolutely melts into. Tilting Cathy's head up she connects their lips in a sweet kiss, and maybe stealing an extra in the process.

Then another presence enter the kitchen, who doesn't bother announcing herself and immediately walks over to latch herself to the others. No secret as to who this is...

"Hey Kitten." The pink queens smiles at her girlfriends, before letting out a large yawn. "And what're you doing up?"

"It's cold." Kat simply puts. "I want cuddles." And just like that, Cathy lets out a yawn of her own. "Sleepy cuddles..."

"I'm not...." Yawn. "sleepy..." Anna chuckles at her lovers' sleepiness, but if she doesn't wrangle them up soon, they're going to pass out standing in the kitchen, which would make things more difficult.

"Sure you're not. Come on, to bed with both of you." Kat's a bit more capable of walking, where Cathy is almost fully leaning against Anna as they walk back upstairs, into the blue queen's room. The fifth queen makes it to the bed first, pulling the fourth and sixth queens down with her.

Cathy gets smushed in the middle, Kat and Anna on either side of her. All three are about to fall asleep when they hear Kat mumble.

"I can't wait to marry you girls."

When Kat wakes up the next day, Cathy and Anna are staring at her. So, naturally, she tilts her head in confusion, as if she's done something wrong.

"Is...something wrong?" The red and blue queens share a look, before the former explains.

"Nothing's wrong, just... last night, you said something." Kat's eyes widen for a second, thinking she'd said something embarrassing. "You said 'I can't wait to marry you girls'." Oh god. Of course she had to ruin her surprise.

"Kitten, you're thinking out loud again." Kat mentally slaps herself at the sometimes good, sometimes bad habit of hers. She has to come clean now.

"I was just....okay." She takes a deep breath, and repositions herself so that she's kneeling, no better time like the present--8 am on a Saturday. "You two mean the absolute world to me, and there's so much about both of you I love I can't possibly put it to words, other than perfect. And I really really wanna spend the rest of my life with you two. I don't have rings, but...will you marry me?"

Anna and Cathy stare at the youngest queen, jaws open and eyes wide. Neither of them had expected to be proposed to, and judging from Kitten's thoughts earlier, she didn't expect it either.

"Kit, of course we want to marry you." Cathy finally states before adding on. "But, are we allowed to? I mean, you know how it is." Kat purses her lips before shaking her head.

"Unfortunately, we can't-"

"Legally." Their attention turns to Anna, who had interrupted. Her eyes are trained on the bed, lips slightly open--a sure sign that a plan is brewing. Whether it's chaos or not is the question. "Who says we need the government to get married?" Her head snaps up. "Screw them, we'll have our own wedding."

"Yes! Let's do that." Kat's eyes light up as she starts spitting ideass. "Now, do we want Lina ordaining, us? OOH! And Bessie could be the flower girl? Cathy what do you think?" The blue queen has a goofy grin of admiration spread across her face. She loves seeing her girlfriends getting excited about something. No matter how irrational.

"It sounds great. We'll do what you two want." Once again, Cathy gets squished in between her two energetic girlfriends 'fiancées'. While Kat kisses her cheek and thanks her, Anna smirks, and leans in to Cathy's ear to whisper one word.

"Simp."

"I'M NOT A SIMP-"

Obviously, the queens and ladies were more than ecstatic about the idea, and almost immediately started to throw ideas out, before finding out that the three (really two, with minimal add ins from Cathy) had done the planning already.

So what they really helped with was preparation and actually setting up their 'wedding'. Which turned out to be kind of stressful since the last three queens were impatient and wanted to get married the next day.

But now it's perfect. Or, as perfect as a fake wedding inside your house that you bought minimal things for to not be suspicious and such can get.

Anne's fighting back sleep as she made a point to wake up at exactly midnight to separate the trio from their previous spooning, so that they wouldn't look at each other all day. Meaning she, along with Maggie, acted as bodyguards so no contact was made.

Everyone's clothes are simply the most formal thing they had in their closet, so there's really no set color scheme, other than the white from the tablecloth, culinary, and assorted flowers. Their arch is placed a few steps away from the bottom of the stairs. Lina had tried her best to make it given the materials they had, in other words, cardboard, colors, and a plastic tube.

Jane and Joan had taken care of the cooking and baking, and Maria is leading the wedding--she was already ordained, but obviously that fact isn't that needed in their makeshift wedding.

Now it's time for it to actually start.

Since they ran out of people, they turned to the dogs for some parts. Roxie walks down as the flower...dog, as she is the youngest. Then the presentation of the brides. Bessie walks Anna down, then Anne for Kat, and finally Lina for Cathy.

Once everyone is in position, Maggie calls down Wolfie and Magic, who are playing the part of ring bearers. And with that, Maria begins the 'ceremony'.

[saltlampsasuke]

Unfortunately, You Are Experiencing Symptoms of Falling in Love: Part 3

Having your long-term boyfriend cheat on you is pretty bad, but you're lucky enough to have a rich, pro-hero best friend who lets you move in with him until you get a new apartment. Except lockdown happens. And you can't look for a new apartment anymore, and you can't go anywhere anymore, and neither can your best friend, and you think you might be falling a little bit in love with him. Or maybe you've been in love with him all along.

The story of how it takes a nationwide lockdown for you and Bakugou Katsuki to finally get together, part 3!

warnings: Coronavirus mentions

wordcount: 2,384

I stayed up til like 3 am to finish this chapter because I wanted the first day to be over so bad :/ so please like it. Also I don’t know why that scene with the old lady happened she just wanted to be written. I kinda want to make her a side character oops

Katsuki’s apartment never failed to impress you. You didn’t remember much about it, having only visited a few times, and he was reluctant to allow even his closest friends to explore his living space with wild abandon. You had to admit, you were excited to get to see his entire living space up close and personal. Kirishima was going to be so jealous, you thought to yourself, even cracking a slight smile. Even the lobby of the apartment building was sleek and professional, befitting the number two hero. And it was secure as well.

“Alright, sit tight. I have to get your dumb face a security login so that you can get in and out without me having to escort you everywhere like some fucking bodyguard,” said Bakugou. You smiled and plopped down on one of the plush lobby chairs, enjoying sinking into the luxurious cushions while Katsuki talked to the lady at the front counter. “I need to add her to my room permissions. Can you make her a card?”

The woman at the counter desk seemed sweet, a fact that was confirmed when you heard Katsuki speak to her without a single harsh word. He had always had a soft spot for grandma type. Her wrinkled face lit up as she glanced down to see you.

“Oh Katsuki, you’ve finally brought over a girlfriend! I’m so happy to see it, I knew you had it in you!” the woman exclaimed. Your eyes widened in surprise, and Katsuki choked in surprise loudly for a few seconds before regaining his voice.

“What? No. No. This is my friend. She’s had some apartment trouble, and she needs a place to stay,” Katsuki explained with the patience he typically reserved for rescue missions. The woman’s smile got even wider.

“Oh, I bet she had some apartment trouble all right. Very well, and how long will she be staying?” You couldn’t see Katsuki’s face, but you could feel him rolling his eyes.

“Indefinitely.” The woman at the counter raised her eyebrows sky-high.

“So you mean to say that you are having this gorgeous young lady move in with you for an indefinite period of time, and she’s not your girlfriend?” You giggled to yourself once more. Clearly, this old woman was the type to give Katsuki a run for his money. Back in high school, he already would have been yelling his head off, and while you knew he was still holding it in, he was mature enough to remain calm. Well, as calm as he could be. Watching him try to hold himself back was highly entertaining.

“Old woman, I am telling you she’s not my girlfriend. End of discussion. Now give her a card.” Katsuki folded his arms across his chest. He meant business, and the woman at the counter seemed to realize that he wasn’t in the mood. While part of you wanted to relax in the comfy chair and watch your friend get teased by an old lady while he tried not to blow up at her, the other part just wanted to lie down and go to bed. It wasn’t quite night yet, just around the time you would want to be eating the dinner you had planned to make for Takumi, but the events of the past few hours had you drained. The woman nodded, still smiling brightly.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I’ll just need some form of identification to put her into our system and the card will be in your mailbox by tomorrow morning. Sound good?” Katsuki nodded, while you handed him your driver’s license. She quickly scanned it into the system and handed it back to you, and you stood up, following Katsuki to the elevator. The doors to the elevator closed, and you saw Katsuki swipe his access card and push the button for the top floor. Odd. You could have sworn he lived somewhere in the middle of the building.

“Sorry about the old woman. She means well,” Katsuki said gruffly. “She’s just too nosy for her own damn good, and she’s always trying to set me up with her friend’s granddaughters. Telling me I need to settle down. Fucking ridiculous.” You had to laugh as well. Katsuki had never been the type for long-term relationships, you had always been the one of your duo to peruse that. Takumi had been your third long-term relationship, and there had been many dates and flirting phases with others beforehand, but you could count on one hand the number of women Katsuki had ever mentioned to you. You knew he had hookups sometimes; never taking the women back to his place. And there had been one girl you had actually met, though she hadn’t lasted either. He hadn’t been too sad, though, claiming she had tried to get with him for his hero status. If there was one thing Katsuki wasn’t, it was superficial. He was honest to a fault, and he didn’t respect anyone who didn’t act the same.

“I think she’s nice,” you replied happily.

“Of course you do. Probably going to end up going over to her apartment for tea every fucking week,” grumbled Katsuki. Your face lit up.

“She’ll invite me for tea?”

“Shut up. I’ll make you tea if you want it so goddamn bad, what do you need her for?” The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at the top floor. Confused, you turned to Katsuki.

“I didn’t think you lived on the top floor?” Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah yeah, it’s a bit of a recent thing. I moved in about a month ago. The old owner moved out, and I decided to upgrade. Got the whole floor to myself. I was gonna let you take a peek at the new setup, but you’ve been pretty busy.” You frowned, curling slightly inward on yourself. You had been neglecting your relationships for your work lately, and you had been neglecting Katsuki for Takumi as well.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a small voice.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, don’t care. Just follow me.” Katsuki lead you down a short hallway to another locked door, which he swiped to let you in, holding the door open for you. The first door lead to a small room with a coat and shoe rack, where you carefully placed you’re your shoes. Katsuki handed you a pair of house slippers, which fit surprisingly well. You wondered to yourself why he had them when his feet were so much bigger than your, but you were distracted by the opening of the second door that revealed Katsuki’s new penthouse apartment.

The apartment screamed “bachelor pad” dominated by black and grey tones, with the occasional pop of orange. Katsuki’s colors. It had a very modern, open feel to it, with lots of steel fixtures and open space. The living room was wide, with a large couch placed center in front of an even larger tv. Behind it, visible due to the mostly open-floor plan of the apartment, was the kitchen, decked out with the finest culinary tools. You almost drooled when you saw the solid copper pots. Then again, Katsuki had always been a talented and devoted cook, so it didn’t surprise you to see that he had invested heavily in his kitchen. There was even a loft above the kitchen that looked like another, smaller, lounge area. The full-length windows let in the soft light of the sunset. There were a few doors on the sides that likely lead to the rest of the apartment, and you followed Katsuki as he moved to show them to you.

“There’s a private pool on the second floor, nothing too big, I thought it might be nice for a get-together or something. Been thinking about maybe having more people over to the new place, thought it might be nice. There’s also a workout room, I don’t use it too much because the agency’s got more machines and shit, but it’s nice to have one on hand. There’s two bathrooms, but only one with a bath and everything, so we’ll be sharing. Don’t put your crap everywhere. Your room is on the left, mine is on the right.”

Your room was smaller than Katsuki’s, as he had the master with bathroom attached. Sure it wouldn’t be ideal to have to use a shower that you had to walk through his room to get to, but it wouldn’t be an issue. You were both adults, and hopefully you would be moving out to your own place soon enough. Still, you knew you would be comfortable here.

“Is it ok if I go to sleep soon?” you asked Katsuki. His eyes bugged out.

“Are you stupid? You want to go to bed without eating dinner? If you live in my house, you follow my rules, and one of my rules is making sure you fucking eat,” Katsuki barked. You smiled carefully, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I guess it kind of slipped my mind, but I’m not really that hungry,” you replied. Which was true. Now that you had finally started to settle down again, all of the pain of the day was starting to rush back. You had distracted yourself with the move earlier, but now that you had arrived, you didn’t have anything to focus on. True, you should probably eat. But you weren’t really in the mood to move at all right now. You flopped down on the bed, sprawling across it.

“You have to eat. I don’t care what you want. I’ll make something simple, just eggs on rice. You like that boring shit, don’t you? I’ll do you a favor and make it all gross and tasteless just how you like it,” Katsuki declared.

“You’re the one who makes food that Satan himself would be afraid to eat for fear of burning his mouth off. I’m not the weirdo here, Katsuki.” He laughed brightly.

“No, you’re the coward here. Go jump in the shower, princess, get cleaned up. I’ll get dinner ready. Now you were the one choking in surprise, flustered that he had actually taken your flippant comment in the car at face value.

“Princess? Where did that come from?” you asked with confusion.

“Are you seriously going to tell me you want another new nickname? You said it was fine in the car,” Katsuki said, half teasingly, half seriously. You sputtered, trying to come up with words to defend yourself.

“Well, I didn’t think you were serious. Clearly I wasn’t!” you replied, as Katsuki moved out of your new room towards the kitchen.

“Too fucking bad, picky princess. Now seriously, you need a shower. You’re tracking that bastard’s germs all over my house.” What he said wasn’t scientifically true, but you knew you would feel better after having washed any traces of Takumi off of you, metaphorically and physically scrubbing him out of your life.

You padded behind Katsuki as he grabbed a towel out of a small closet and tossed it at you. It was big and soft, and smelled like his detergent. You couldn’t help but wrap it around you a little. Katsuki’s room was predictably clean, like the neat freak he was, and you were saddened to note the absence of anything to poke fun at him for. The master bathroom was large and fancy like the rest of the house, and Katsuki had to show you how to work the shower before he could leave to start dinner. You were about to have him head out so you could clean up when you realized something.

“Katsuki, what am I going to wear after the shower?” You saw his face fall slightly.

“Shit. Let me grab something.” You heard him rustle around in his drawers, and he pulled out a soft shirt, hoodie, shorts, and boxers, handing them to you. Part of you felt a bit weird about borrowing your friend’s underwear, but it couldn’t be helped. If you had packed, you wouldn’t be in this situation, so you really had nothing to complain about. “You can use these. I’ll wash your stuff so you can wear it when we pack up tomorrow. And you can grab whatever hair and body stuff you need as well, just open something new if you need it. I’ll get dinner. Don’t take a fucking century.” With that, he closed the door and left for the kitchen.

Katsuki’s shower was fantastic. Sure, Takumi had convinced you to splurge on a fancier apartment than you were used to, but this was next level. And all of Katsuki’s products were high-quality as well. You almost wanted to steal them for yourself, though that put you at the risk of permanently smelling like him. You almost thought it would be worth it, you thought to yourself as you slathered on moisturizer.

You pulled on Katsuki’s clothes, which were a bit too big, but manageable. Thank goodness for drawstring pants. He had times dinner perfectly, sliding the fried eggs over the rice right as you stepped into the kitchen. Smelling the food, you realized you were hungrier than you thought you had been. You inhaled the food, thanking him profusely. He shook his head, knowing he had been right. After you finished eating, it was closer to nighttime, and you felt the day beginning to crash over you again, this time inspiring the urge to sleep. Katsuki noticed quickly.

“You aren’t going to be any use at all if you’re tired. Get some sleep, princess. We have a big day tomorrow.” You nodded sleepily in agreement, and walked over to what was now “your” room. Katsuki stood in the doorway as you snuggled into the covers, and reached to turn out the light. You spoke quietly.

“Seriously, Katsuki. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this. It’s too much.” The room went dark, and you heard the door start to swing closed.

“Don’t be stupid. You don’t have to pay my back. Don’t even fucking think about it. I won’t let you. And don’t thank me either,” he said quietly, a slight edge to his voice. “I’m doing this because I want to. So shut up and go to bed. You need to be ready for tomorrow.”