#so I need to try and claw myself back to between midnight and one. where I was previously.

[tmae3114]

I cannot go to my usual source of affirmation (my parents) for this because it would require admitting to them just how bad my sleep schedule has been the past several weeks (<- read this in the tone of a person who does not want to admit to being cold after being told to bring a coat) so I am instead coming here, throwing a post into the vague void of the tumblr dashboard

anyways

I got to sleep before three am. please clap.

[artzee-bee]

End of all things [1] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir)

Summary: Y/N had been Chat Noir’s friend and moral support for a long time now. Even though she had magical powers too, she never liked getting involved with akuma attacks, but now, as Hawkmoth’s gotten control of the miraculous of creation, she couldn’t stay indiferent anymore. She had to save her friend and Paris!

Genre: Mostly angst? A little fluff

Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death/dying

A/N: This was requested, but as I was writting it, it got very long and I’ve decided to post it in 2 parts. I’m not gonna post the request just now, so as to not spoil the rest of the story but Part 2 will be coming out on friday!!!

Part 2

~~~

Chat was pacing around the room, waiting for you to be done with your potion. You had heard from your parents that there had been a new akuma attack today, but as the news reported, the two parisian heros took care of the problem in no time. For this reason, Chat’s presence at your house felt unusual. Normally he would stop by when he needed to rant, when he was in need of comfort and reassurance but the fight today went well, so what could possibly be bothering him?

“Ok, I’m done” you said, screwing the cap on the little bottle and placing it on your shelf “Wanna talk?” you asked, to which Chat gave you a shy smile

“Yeah, a little”

You made your way to your bed, motioning for him to follow you. You got under your covers and passed him his favorite plushie, a cat to no one’s surprise

“So what’s up? Is it about the fight today?”

“Well no it’s more like a...personal problem?”

“Oh…”

“Claws out” in a rush of light and electricity, the infamous hero vanished before you, transforming into Adrien Agrest

“Well, what is it?” 

Adrien revealed his identity to you months ago. You first met him as Chat, but when you really got to know each other, he decided you needed to know all of him. Well, he needed you to know all of him.

You listened to him rant until way past midnight. Until you were both too tired to stand up straight, so you laid down in your bed, covers up to your necks, muffled stories told in between yawns. You listened carefully, giving him your full attention. He fidgeted with the collar of the stuffed toy and you used your magic to make 2 hot chocolates. Eventually, everything that needed to be said, was said. You offered Adrien to watch a movie, since that always cheered him up, but he refused

“It’s late and I have a photoshoot early in the morning. My makeup team will be angry with my dark circles anyways, better not make it worse” he joked

Adrien transformed back into Chat and you cast a safety spell on him, which you did every time he left your house late at night. He always teased you about being ‘too protective’, but deep down he found it sweet how much you cared and wanted to know that he would get home in one piece.

“Night Chat” you said, wrapping your arms around the hero

“Good night Y/N!”

The next few days went by quietly. You hadn’t run into Adrien at all, but you texted a bit back and forth. Sunday evening however, things took a toll for the worst. You turned on your tv, ready to catch up with your show when you heard Nadja Chamack’s voice doing the news report

“It seems as though Rena Rouge and Chat Noir are struggling to stay on their feet! They have taken shelter under a fallen bus, leaving Ladybug alone to defeat Hawkmoth'' your pulse skyrocketed. As you watched the screen you could see Chat and Rena off to the side, struggling to catch their breath. Rena seemed to be in pain while Chat was trying to help. Ladybug was using her yoyo the best she could in order to protect herself from the supervillain, who was wielding his cane like a sword over her head. The fight was clearly going in Hawkmoth's favour! You grabbed your jacket and ran out the front door and onto the empty streets of Paris, towards the Eiffel Tower, where the fight was taking place. 

People screamed at you from their balconies to go home, warning you about the fight and the danger you were putting your life in but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how they needed you. Chat needed you! Every late night talk and every inside joke shared between you two replaid in your head like a broken record. Behind Chat’s tough mask, his alter ego of hero and protector, was the fragile figure of Adrien Agreste. The young blonde boy who cried during romantic comedies, who liked to have his hair braided and forgot how to speak when someone complimented him. If you didn’t help, the heros would loose and he would most likely die! Alongside Ladybug and Rena who, even though you didn’t know their real identities, were still young girls. As you ran down the street, you heard kids crying inside one of the homes. You ran past but at the last second you heard Nadia’s voice coming from their tv

“Ladybug was akumatized”

You approached the Eiffel tower from the side, where you could see everything going on. In front of the tower, right next to Hawkmoth, stood Marinette Dupain-Cheng, dressed in a tight, dark red suit, darker than Ladybug’s. Black butterflies replaced the dots of the heroine's suit and the purple butterfly mask of Hawkmoth’s control was shining over her face. Marinette was Ladybug! She did, in fact, get akumatized. On the other side, you saw Rena and Chat, struggling to stay up right. They were obviously in a lot of pain and extremely tired, but Hawkmoth was merely mocking them.

“After all this time” Chat spoke up, but his breaths were shallow and rapid “I thought you’d know one thing about us! We don’t give up without a fight. Never will. Especially not against you” and with that, the two ran at each other.

“It doesn’t have to end like this, you know?” he said “We don’t have to fight to death. I wouldn’t want to have that on my conscience. All you have to do is give me your miraculouses willingly. The town will be safe, you will be safe! It’s the most heroic option you’ve got. You won’t be any good to Paris if you are dead”

You knew this was not just another fight between them. This was it. Either the heros won or everything they’ve worked for would be lost. Hawkmoth would win and get his hands on both miraculous and god knows what kind of destruction that would bring not only upon Paris, but the world. You focused all your energy in one spot in the air, right between where Chat and Hawkmoth were supposed to clash but before they could reach each other, you sent a wave of energy that blew both of them apart, like a bomb. Hawkmoth flew back into the Eiffel tower while Chat hit the pavement with a thud. Confused and certainly disturbed, both of them began looking around for an answer as to what happened when, finally, Hawkmoth’s eyes landed on yours.

“Aha, miss Y/L/N. What a spectacular honor to finally meet you!” you didn’t reply, instead you stood tall, maintaining eye contact

“I know a lot about you. Seen a lot. Felt a lot of your emotions. None of them can compare to the powers I’ll have with the two miraculouses. With Ladybug’s earrings and the guardian under my control, I’d say my mission here is almost over’’

“Y/N get back!’’ Chat screamed but you were too involved now to run. This was your fight too.

“It is time you give up Hawkmoth. Paris is not yours, neither are the miraculouses. We will destroy you, no matter what it takes!”

“Listen to yourself, kid! <<Destroy me>>? The most you can do is pull a rabbit out of your hat…” before he could finish his sentence, you snapped your fingers in his direction and instantly, the ground around beneath Hawkmoth and akumatized Marinette, fractured. From within the cracks, many tangled plants came out, encapsulating the 2 villains. You sprinted towards Chat and Rena, ignoring the signs of struggle coming from the prison of weeds.

 Alongside the two superheros, you hid inside a corner coffee shop, which was now empty.

“Y/N, you need to leave!! You are putting yourself in too much danger!” Rena told you, as she collapsed to the ground from exhaustion

“Stop with that already! I am here and I’m not going anywhere!”

“Yes you are!” Chat looked at you. His voice was calm and yet, his eyes were filled with disappointment “You are not a superhero. This is our job!”

“You need help”

“No we don’t!” Chat had never, in all your years of friendship, raised his voice at you, let alone yell “ You need to stay safe! You could die! Hawkmoth doesn’t care about anything if it helps him get what he wants! I am ready to take that risk. Rena is too” you both turned to the red headed hero, only to see her slowly nod “But I can’t allow you to take it”

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“I don’t want you to die!” he screamed again “I love you and I will never forgive myself if you don’t come out of this alive!”

Before you could say anything, you saw Hawkmoth and his minion, through the cafe window, cutting through the last of the plants and escaping your trap. You grabbed Chat’s arm and pulled him to the floor, from where you could not be seen

“We’re in this together now” you said in a stern voice, looking the blonde kid right in his eyes “Whether you like it or not '' this time, he simply nodded.

You stuffed your hands into the pocket of your jacket and pulled out 3 little bottles, containing a mate, green liquid. You had prepared one for each of the heros, now you’d only need two.

“Here, drink this!” You handed each of them one “Regeneration potion. Should put you back on your feet.” as soon as they finished drinking the brew, you could see color coming back to their faces

“Where’s Marinette’s akuma??” 

“Her necklace” replied Rena “It’s a gift from her kwami”

“Got it. You deal with Hawkmoth. I’ll bring Marinette back!”

Chat and Rena exited through the front door, grabbing Hawkmoth’s attention. He called out to Marinette to attack, but before she could take a single step in your direction, you had snuck up behind her. Using a simple invisibility spell, you managed to exit unnoticed behind the two heros. It finally felt like the fight had truly begun. From the corner of your eye you could see Chat and Rena doging Hawkmoth’s attacks while you, were doing your best to get your hands on the stupid necklace! Even though she couldn’t see you, Marinette seemed to almost always know what your next move was. She would expertly block all your attack and would keep you an arm’s length away at all times. Finally, you had enough and in one swift motion, you pinned her back to your chest, ripping the necklace away. A wave of black and purple took over the both of you and when it vanished, all you were left with was a half unconscious Marinette in your arms. You dropped her to the ground slowly as she was coming back to her senses. You wanted to talk to her but your thoughts were driven away as you heard Chat scream bloody murder.

On the opposite side of the platza, you saw Hawkmoth rip Chat’s ring off his finger, forcing him to detransform. The exhausted figure of Adrien Agreste fell to the ground with a thud. Hawkmoth had, indeed, gotten his hand on both the miraculouses.

[comfortwriting]

Eight is too far away - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Set in OOTP, Umbridge rules that boys and girls cannot be within eight inches of another. Fred and Y/N become touch starved and needy, and they try to sneak around this new rule in order to cope.

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, penetrative sex, sexual letters and nude pictures, masturbation. 

The Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six has made your life and Fred's a living hell, you were forced to stay away from one another - forbidden to be closer than eight inches apart, whilst others were lucky enough to have the stand six inches - which increased to eight inches after Professor Umbridge caught the two of you inching closer and closer to one another during class, at the table, in the halls, and on weekends; you were both driving her up the wall.

This decree stopped you from sitting with Fred at the table, and in class, you weren't able to walk alongside him or have private conversations, everywhere you planned to meet up became flooded with Umbridge's Slytherin Cronies, watching out and waiting to hand you in.

Fred had decided that private conversations were better to be through letters that he would hide in the common room where no one else would think to search because even mail service from the owls was searched before arriving at the table.

Y/N,

I miss you, I really fucking miss you. Being unable to touch you, hold you, kiss you - bloody hell - not being able to smell the scent of your hair and skin is killing me. I just want you in my arms, your lips on mine, my hands on your waist, I want to be full of your scent and it's so frustrating that I cannot be with you.

Once I've figured out where is safe for us to meet, I'll let you know.

Fuck, this is all bullshit, really, isn't it? We're living under the same roof yet we can't even walk beside each other, what kind of life is this? honestly.

I've tried to get out of class with my Snack-boxes but the evil toad confiscated everything and I can't get into her office without those bloody cats watching my every move. My hands are so red, tender, and sore from that quill of hers, I hope that you never have to use it.

I need you, love, I'm hungry and desperate for you, I love you.

- Fred.

You traced Fred's handwriting slowly with your fingers, going over each and every letter, comma, and full stop. You couldn't help but chuckle, blush, and even frown at Fred's letter - feeling nothing but sympathy for his poor hand, but you could also feel your insides flutter at the thought of him needing you so desperately.

Picking up your quill, you wrote back, staring at the camera that sat on your desk, watching and encouraging you to pick them up and take some risqué pictures for Fred.

Freddie,

I miss you too - I miss the feeling of your hand in mine, my fingers lost in your hair, I miss your warmth, your laugh, the sound of your voice low in my ear, your soft lips... I want to be full of you - and your scent too.

We must meet soon, I don't know how much longer I can take, my hands and fingers aren't the same - I need a laugh, a kiss, I need your touch and love. You better find somewhere soon, I'm begging you.

It's so hard seeing you and not running over in your arms, pulling you in for a deep, and passionate kiss - I'm itching really bad, and only you can make it stop.

Please stay out of trouble, Freddie, she'll only make things worse if you don't. Get some Murtlap Essence for the back of your hand, it should help, it helped mine when I, unfortunately, had to use it last night.

I know and feel your hunger, your desperation, and your needs because I'm feeling those too - for the time being - I hope these help, baby.

Let me know, and write back soon,

I love you too.

- Y/N.

Pausing for a moment, you grabbed your camera in one hand, looking around your room to check it was still empty. Undoing the buttons on your sleek and sexy black shirt, your breasts pooling out of the opening. Pushing your arms inwards, pushing your breasts together, you leaned the camera to face down on your breasts, your free hand massaging them and your nipples gently, pleasuring yourself.

Pressing the button, the camera flashed, and a few seconds later, it popped out of the end, you pulled out the first picture and fanned it, you touching your breasts developing and moving as it became clearer and less blurry.

Smiling to yourself, you placed the photo down and continued to take more of you and your body, touching yourself and showing off the parts of you that Fred loves most. Once coming up with quite the collection, you placed the photos in the middle of the parchment and folded it over, placing it into the envelope - creeping into the empty common room, you placed Fred's present in the usual hiding place.  

Fred crept down into the common room during the middle of the night when his roommates were sleeping, he found the chunky and rather heavy envelope with his name on it and took it upstairs, slowly getting into bed, grabbing his wand, pulling the covers over him.

"Lumos!" he whispered, the bright light beaming from the end of his wand.

Fred placed his wand in-between his knees, holding it in place whilst he opened the envelope, pulling out your letter and opening it, his eyes instantly landing on the moving pictures of you. Fred wanted to read your letter first, truly, but the pictures caught and had control over his undivided attention.

Fred's cock became erect in his pyjama trousers as he held up the picture of your breasts, watching you play with your nipples - Fred's other hand trailed down his pyjama bottoms and held the base of his cock, starting to pump gently, picking up the next photo.

You were stroking your clit in circular motions, then you were fingering yourself, biting your lip, your mouth opening in Fred's favourite 'O' shape, your eyes scrunching as you climaxed - Fred now pumping his cock faster and not as gentle, his panting heavy, feeling himself getting closer and closer to cumming at the sight of you pleasuring yourself at the thought of him.

Fred remembered he had a camera too, forcing himself to wait at the edge, he carefully and quietly moved his arm out of the covers, reaching down beside the bed and grasping his camera, pulling it under the covers - thankful that his brother's sores were loud enough to muffle the noises of the camera clicking as he took the pictures of himself.

The aftermath of his orgasm caught up with him, hitting him in the face with drowsiness and no motivation to write back as his hand was worn out from all the pumping, he hid his developed, moving pictures with yours in the envelope and pushed it under his pillow, promising he would reply in the morning.  

After hours of double potions classes, extra study sessions for your N.E.W.Ts and the most uncomfortable, and painful detention with Umbridge and quill, you took a shower, got dressed in your nightwear and went to find the reply to your letter, passing by Fred as you walked down the stairs, his arm brushing against yours, the hair standing up on the back of your neck, your heart skipping beats, a whimper escaping your mouth.

Fred turned around and looked into your hungry eyes with his, searching them, the both of you sharing and exploring one another's fantasies, wants, and needs.

"Soon, love" Fred comforted you from afar, walking away despite how painful his heart clawed through his chest to get to you "I promise."

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, nodded and collected your letter, walking back to bed - wanting nothing more than to run after him, grab him by the hand, drag him to the sofa where you would push him down and fuck him senseless.

Like Fred, the night before, you balanced your wand between your knees, the light beaming from the tip as you ready his letter, your cheeks burning at the stack of pictures he had taken for you.

Y/N,

Those pictures... bloody hell, what are you trying to do, kill me? I can't wait to have my fingers inside of you, my lips against your neck and just having you all to myself. But enough talk of it... I'll be doing it soon enough.

That bitch seriously made you use her quill? I hope your hand clears up sweetheart, the sooner she's gone... the better. I'll get rid of her soon enough.

I've found a place for us to meet, stay up late tomorrow night and head towards the astronomy tower, I'll meet you there - and don't be late, you need to set off at midnight if you're early or late you'll get caught.

Hope these pictures are as good as yours were, never taken these before but fuck, my cock is so hard for you, you've made me cum so hard, you beautiful girl.

Get plenty of sleep, you'll need it.

See you tomorrow,

Freddie.

Beginning to get excited, you picked up the stack of photos again, flicking through them, feeling your crotch flutter and begin to get wet. Fred's large length gripped in his hand that stroked himself up and down slowly, in the next photo, Fred pumped his cock faster - precum spilling out from his tip which he spread across the head, in the third, still pumping, his cock twitched and you witnessed his sudden cum shot - the white liquid shooting out and then flowing down his fingers.

You watched the moving pictures over and over again, but Fred was right - you needed plenty of sleep in preparation for tomorrow night. Blushing wildly, you placed his photos in the envelope and shoved it to the back of your drawers, your head full of what he would do to you, and what you would do to him.

Waiting for one more minute, one more sixty seconds to pass, you gripped onto your coat, hiding your face in the dark, counting down the seconds in your head, finally sneaking out of your bedroom, out the common room and through the portrait hole.

Fred had already managed to get to the astronomy tower undetected, the nerves inside of him flourished - he felt like he was going on a first date all over again, he kept going over what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do, and how he would do it, those pictures still moving in his mind; frustrating him all the more.  

“The view” you panted, finally reaching Fred “is perfect.”

You stared at Fred’s gorgeous hair, illuminated by the moonlight, his gorgeous figure in his best clothes, this is the closest you had been to him in months - yet you weren't even touching, you were slowly inching closer and closer; eight inches, seven, six, five...

“The starry sky is perfect at this time” Fred replied, turning around to face you, closing in on you as he walked over.

four, three...

“I wasn’t talking about the sky” you smirked, biting your lip.

Two, one...

Fred grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, his touch soothing your soul, calming your crying heart as his soft, kissable lips landed on yours, kissing you with intense hunger and desperation - you kissed back with intense want and need for him. Your hands reached to the back of his neck, travelling up into his hair and getting your fingers tangled, Fred’s lips pulling away from yours and slowly planting kisses down your neck before he sucked on it softly, soft moans he missed so much finally being heard as clear as a silver bell.

Fred’s hands travelled up towards the zip on your coat, pulling it down and slowly pushing your coat off your shoulders when you removed your hands from his soft hair, his fingers dived underneath your top, unclipping your bra, your hands worked on removing his belt, pulling his zipper and then his trousers down - your neck now slight sore and bruised from Fred’s sucking.

Laying your coat flat against the cold floor, Fred placed you down on your back, you took your top off, pulling it over your face while Fred unbuttoned his smart shirt, your eyes fixated on the tent that had formed in his boxers, filling your body with excitement and your mouth with drool.

Propping yourself up on your knees, with the cold air tickling your exposed skin, you pulled his boxers down, Fred’s erect cock slapping against his stomach. Looking up at him, into his beautiful, brown eyes, he looked down at you and smiled, nodding his head, his gentle hand resting on the back of your head; he wasn’t going to stop you - he had waited too long for this.

Blushing, you took hold of Fred’s erection at the base and took him into your mouth slowly, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, Fred lowered his head back and closed his eyes, feeling extra sensitive after going months without anything but his own hand down there... his moans and groans wouldn’t stop, and you loved it; you could feel yourself getting wet.

You didn’t want to stop, and you weren't going to - you were so turned on and you wouldn’t mind taking his load into the back of your mouth and swallowing it down your throat. You continued to suck faster, your hand pumping at the same time as you bobbed your head, Fred tightened his grip on your hair, slowly pushing you further down, causing you to choke on his length - your saliva looking like laces as you pulled yourself off him for air.

Fred opened his eyes and looked down at you, he crouched down and wiped the saliva from your lips, his index finger on his other hand now hooking the waistband of your knickers. Pulling them down, Fred pushed you back down on your warm coat - shielding your exposed back from the harsh chills of the night. Fred’s lips attacked yours, you fought back and sucked on his bottom lip, moaning against him - his wet fingers brushing against your sensitive clit.

Your tongue roamed inside of Fred’s mouth, dancing with and then fighting against his tongue, tasting himself in your mouth made Fred’s cock even harder, his fingers abandoned your clit and ducked towards your tight entrance, his index and middle finger circling them teasingly before finally plunging inside of you.

You jolted out of surprise and moaned against his lips and into his mouth, Fred’s fingers pumping in and out, deep inside of you, his fingers starting to collect your juices with each pump and brush against your G-Spot. Fred pulled away from the kiss and grinned, biting his lip, enjoying the sight of you coming undone beneath him. Your walls tightened around his long digits, and your stomach tightening, wanting nothing more than to finally release all over his fingers - knowing this, Fred stopped and withdrew his fingers from your warm cunt.  

You pouted as Fred’s smile widened.

“So unfair” you huffed, pretending to strop.

Fred rolled his eyes and tutted, putting on a condom and applying lube, he towered over you “wrap your legs around me, love.” he said lowly into your ear.

Doing so, your legs wrapped around Fred’s lower half as he lined his length up to your pleading entrance, lowering himself down, he pulled you into a cuddle, his arms across your back and pushed himself slowly inside of you. Fred paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size as your walls tightened around him, when ready, Fred continued to slowly thrust himself inside and out of you, the lube helping him glide in more easily.

“You feel so good Freddie!” you moaned, the cool air no longer making you cold.

Fred panted, picking up his speed and sticking to his rhythm, “I’ve been waiting for so long” he grunted, beads of sweat forming across his forehead “so bloody tight”

The night felt truly magical, the starry sky and gleaming moon out for the perfect viewing, you and the love of your life finally able to touch, kiss, and fuck - you were definitely counting your lucky stars tonight, as you would lay down and cool in Fred’s arms, talking about everything the two of you had missed.

Pulling you closer to him, Fred’s face now rested in the crook of your neck, planting delicate kisses and whispering “I love you” in your ear before finally pulling away from your warmth, Fred grabbed your legs from around him and placed them upon his shoulders, his clock gliding deeper inside of you - the pleasure increasing and travelling throughout your entire body.  

Fred picked up his speed, slamming inside of you, over and over, the beads of sweat now forming across his chest and back, Fred’s grunts and groans getting louder, your fingernails gripping and scratching his lower sides as the pleasure between the two of you continued to rise, getting ready to boil over.

“Fuck!” you wailed, your walls tightening as much as they possibly could around Fred’s throbbing length “Freddie, I’m going to cum!”

This giving Fred the stretch he needed to finish the race, he continued to slam inside of you, deeper, harder and faster until your cum flowed down his length, your legs shaking upon his shoulders and your panting overtaking his. Fred’s cock throbbed and throbbed until he couldn’t hold back anymore, spilling his seed into the condom as he pushed himself deep inside of you one last time.

Slowly pulling out and taking off the condom, Fred laid beside you and pulled you into his loving arms, kissing you on the forehead whilst the two of you caught your breaths and tried to keep up with your racing hearts.

“So” you breathed out “what have I missed?”

Fred grinned, shaking his head, still panting and in a state of bliss.

“You’ve got no idea...”

taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @lucymfer @xmalfoyweasleyx @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @escapingrealitybyreading

[sunmoonandeddie]

‘cause you are, you are

pairing: lumberjack!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,436

summary: Bucky’s found someone out on his front lawn during a snowstorm.  Well, Alpine found her.  If only he knew what he was getting into.

warnings: Bad words!  Violence!  Mention of kidnapping!  Mention of military violence/injury!  Mention of suicidal thoughts!

a/n:  So the song I listened to that kinda really inspired this is ‘Get You the Moon’ by Kina.  Also, this was commissioned by @buckysbunny​ and I really hope you love it, babe!

“Come on, Al,” Bucky said as he led his dog up the front steps of his cabin, carrying all the grocery bags inside.  He had a cigarette between his teeth, keeping it steady as he unlocked the door and let the gorgeous samoyed inside.  “Atta girl.”

The cabin was just as he left it three hours ago when he left to go grocery shopping.  As it should.

And Alpine was already standing at her bowl, wagging her tail.  She knew what time it was.

“You hungry, baby girl?” He asked with a grin as he grabbed the beef he’d been thawing in the sink and opened it up.  “Today’s a beef day.  We both know how much you love cows, yeah?”  He put a cup of beef in her bowl, powdering in her supplements.  “The best girl deserves the best food, yeah?” He asked as he cracked two eggs on top of it, before setting it on the ground.  Bucky couldn’t help but grin at the way that Alpine sat there in front of the bowl, waiting for the go ahead as her tail wagged aggressively.  “Eat.  Good girl.”

Kicking off his boots, he started up a fire in the fireplace.  The clouds were rolling in, the sun already setting.  He’d lived on the mountain long enough to know when the first real snow of the season was setting in.  They’d already had flurries, sure, but…  The first real snow was the first one that had everyone locked inside, unable to go anywhere for weeks.  He could smell it on the air.

Thankfully he was all stocked up on wood, so they’d be warm.  He’d already moved up Alpine’s dinner time so it would still be light outside when she needed to go outside to use the bathroom.  And they had more than enough food in the fridge and in the deep freeze to last them the entire winter, if they needed.  They’d be okay.

Honestly, his biggest worry was losing Alpine in the snow.  She was a big floof of white fur.  She always came when he called, but still.  It was the principle of it.

After she went to the bathroom, the two of them curled up on the couch while he ate and they watched whatever DVD he popped in.  He’d probably binge watch the box set of nature documentaries he’d gotten.

They were… relaxing.  After spending a few tours in Afghanistan, he needed relaxing.

It had been ten years, but… some things don’t fade with time.  Some things stick like gummy bears on a car seat in July.

It was past midnight when Alpine raised her head from his lap, a low whine in the back of her throat.  By then, he’d cracked open a beer and been fully ready to fall asleep there.

“Al?  Come on, baby girl, there’s nothing out there,” he said reassuringly.  It was snowing heavily, and he’d estimate there was already about seven inches deep with no sign of stopping.

But Alpine gets off the couch and runs for the door, barking sharply.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He asked as he watched her.  “Alpine, come.”

For the first time in the four years since he’d gotten her, she didn’t listen.

Instead, she let out another bark as she clawed at the door.

“Al,” he groaned as he forced himself up.  He left the beer on the coffee table before heading to the door.  “There’s nothing out there.  Just snow.  You’re just gonna get cold and get the floors all wet.”

But, alas, he’s a slave to the desires of his puppy.

It’s kinda pathetic, really.  Not that he cared.

He opened up the door to let her out, frigid air blasting him.  The snow crept up onto the porch, and there was so much coming down it looked almost like a curtain.  “See, Al?  Nothing.”

But she ran out into the snow, nudging at what just looked like another pile of fluffy white snow.  She let out a whine, the only parts clearly visible of her being her dark nose and eyes.

And that’s when a head appeared, and his heart stopped.  What the fuck was a woman doing out in the middle of a snow storm?

Despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing shoes and he’d just changed into a fresh pair of sweats, he ran out to where Alpine was still trying to nudge her awake.  The snow was freezing his toes as he reached down and scooped up the girl, woman, whatever, and carried her inside.

“Come on,” he called out to the samoyed, who was following quickly after him, her tail tucked between her legs.  “You’re such a smart puppy,” he cooed as he laid the girl on the couch.  “You knew she was out there and made sure I got to her.  Good puppy.”

From the color of her lips, there was no doubt in his mind that hypothermia was starting to set in.  And from what she was wearing?  Come on.  She didn’t even have shoes on.  Just two pairs of socks.

Fuck.  He’d have to strip her down.  He needed to get her warm, and the clothes she wore weren’t doing anything to help her since they were thin and soaking wet. “You better not kill me when you wake up,” he grumbled as he pulled her clothes off of her, keeping his eyes averted.  She didn’t even have underwear or a bra on.

It wasn’t that he was some kind of creep.  He just felt awkward.  He didn’t know this woman and he wasn’t some kind of life saver.

Bucky was alarmed by the amount of bruises that covered her body, though it looked as though there was a purposeful lack of them on her face.  There were also what looked like fresh scrapes along her hips.

He wrapped her in every blanket he could find after grabbing fresh clothes from the laundry room and redressing her, cocooning her before shoving the couch closer to the fire so that it may warm her easier.  But she still seemed so cold.  He moved to the kitchen, taking a few hot water bottles from the first aid cabinet and warming them up before gently dabbing one at her face, the only part of her still exposed.

Bucky knew that the only thing he could do now was wait for her to wake up.  Pressing two fingers to her neck, he let out a sigh of relief when he felt her pulse.  “You’re not out of the woods yet,” he said as he grabbed his beer and took a swig.  It was going to be a long night.

Alpine was more than happy with the addition of a new person in their home, if not still a little worried.  She climbed up onto the couch and curled up against her, sniffing at her face and giving her a lick before lying her head down beside her.

“She’ll be okay, Al,” Bucky said quietly as he reached out to give her scritches right above her tail.  He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but…  Maybe Alpine would understand and calm down a little.

My first thought when I woke up was that I was warm.  Really warm.

I hadn’t been warm in such a long time.

My eyelids were so heavy, and I had no desire to open them just yet.

What would I find when I woke up?  If I was back in His possession, in his house, I…  I would need to resort to Plan B.

Technically, Plan B had been Plan A a few times, when things had gotten… especially hard.  But He had caught me before I could succeed.

The last thing I could remember was stumbling through the snow.  I’d managed to finally get out after planning it for months.  I waited until He’d gone out for his nightly trip to the bars before pulling on my two pairs of socks and slipping out through the broken basement window.

The broken glass that I had thought would cause me to freeze to death had become my salvation.

I had been going down the mountain, following the road.  But it had started to snow.  I’m not sure how long I had been walking when I could see the path anymore, or when I saw the light.

The first light I had seen in the stifling white.  It had been coming from a window, cutting through the storm like a beacon of hope.

The wave of relief I had felt at the cabin slowly taking shape in front of my very eyes had been euphoric.  I had started to think that if I was going to die, at least I wasn’t going to die in captivity.

But I hadn’t even made it to the porch steps.

Which brought me to where I am now.  Wrapped up in what I was pretty sure was several blankets.  But I could smell… dog?  He didn’t have a dog.  No pets allowed.

He also didn’t have a crackling fireplace, from what I remember of the few times I’d been allowed upstairs.

Yeah.  Definitely no fireplace.

I made sure to stay completely still as I felt two calloused fingertips press against the pulse point in my neck.

“Well, Al, her heart rate has increased…”

So it was definitely a man.

I’d gotten really good at pretending to be asleep over the years.  Like, really, really good.  It wasn’t often that He’d been able to tell that I was awake if I didn’t want him to know.

There was a whimper, and then a rough tongue licked across my face.  The dog.  Which was (hopefully) this ‘Al.’  I didn’t want to deal with more than one man.

The man sighed and walked away.  “You gonna keep watch over her, baby girl?  I gotta go get a shower.”

Did he think the dog was going to answer him?

As soon as I heard his footsteps going up a set of stairs, I took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.  I needed to get out of there.  Immediately.

I just had to slip out without him hearing me or the dog making a scene.

I slowly opened my eyes, even though it still felt like I had washers glued to my lashes.

And there was the fireplace.  It was so nice and warm…  I hadn’t felt this toasty in years.  The basement was always so frigid, and with the lack of blankets provided to me, I was always at least a little cold.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay for a little while…

No.  I shook my head as I forced myself to sit up.  I couldn’t stay.  I had to get out and get down the mountain to civilization.

I gasped as I felt the rough tough on my cheek again, turning to see a huge white dog that looked more like a cloud than an animal.  “Shh…”  I had to work to get my arms out of the blankets to pet it, but it was then that I realized I was not in my original clothing underneath all the swaddling.  My heart sank to my stomach as I felt a wave of panic.

Had he touched me?  Was he no better than Him?

I got most of the blankets off and frowned as I looked down at sweatpants and the long sleeved shirt I was wearing.  They were far too big for me, but they’d have to do.

I kept my steps feather light as I looked around the space I had found myself in.  It was a living room, and rather cozy.  Rustic looking.  I could see the kitchen to my left, and a silent debate with myself started over whether or not I’d have time to grab food for myself before running.  From the way my stomach growled, I knew that I’d have to.

I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, since today was not my scheduled day to eat.

The cloud dog followed me to the fridge, its tail wagging as I grabbed what I could reasonably carry.  It took everything within me to not stop and play with her.  I hadn’t seen a dog in so long, especially not one so sweet.  Its tail kept wagging even as it watched me stealing food.

I was reaching for the jar of pickles when I heard the cocking of a gun, and I turned around to see a large, burly man pointing a handgun at me.  The food in my hands dropped to the ground as I threw my hands up, my heart racing.  The jar of pickles shattered, the glass flying all over the floor.  “I-I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!” I gushed, feeling sweaty under the pressure of the barrel being pointed at me.  “I don’t know where I am.  I j-just woke up and I’m s-so hungry.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he got out of the shower, hearing a commotion downstairs.

His instincts took over, and he didn’t have time to even think things through before pulling on a pair of briefs and grabbing his handgun from his bedside table before slipping down the stairs.

He had the gun in both hands as he peeked around the corner, seeing a girl digging through his fridge.  It was the cocking of the gun that alerted her to his presence, and she whirled around.

She was pretty, he could acknowledge that much.

It was when she was rambling that suddenly he remembered.  The girl in the snow.  But he’d been certain that she wouldn’t wake up for at least a few more hours.

His startling blue eyes stayed locked on her as he flipped the safety back on.  But he still kept it raised.  “Who are you?” He demanded, his voice gruff, deep.

She gave her name, and he frowned.  Just a first name?  No last?

“Where did you come from?”

“U-Up the mountain,” she said quietly, a few tears rolling down her pretty cheeks.  “Please, I…  I mean no h-harm.  Please.  I’ll go.  I swear.”

He shook his head, slowly lowering the gun.  It wasn’t like she was much of a threat.  She clearly had no idea what she was doing.  “Don’t be stupid.  You already almost froze to death once out in the storm.  Leaving would just mean that you wasted my efforts to save your life.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, still not moving from where she was.  It sounded more like a question than a statement.

She was skinny.  Scary skinny.  Of course, he’d seen that when he’d undressed her, but it was even more alarming seeing her in his clothes, seeing how they draped from her frail, bird-like shoulders.

He nodded to the mess around her.  “Stay still.  I don’t want you cutting your feet on the glass.”  Luckily she had the sense to listen as he swept up the glass and pickles, picking up everything around her before mopping.

He didn’t like being close to her, and she clearly didn’t like being close to him either.  Good.  It meant they would be less likely to step on each other’s toes.

Bucky was already very aware that she was going to have to stay until the snow let up enough for her to leave.

“I’m assuming you’re hungry?” He said as he put the mop away.  “You can have food.  I’m not going to starve you after rescuing you.”

She nodded, her stomach grumbling.  “Yes.  Hungry…”

Pointing to the fridge, he leaned back against the kitchen island.  “You can get whatever you want.”  He watched curiously as she reached into the door and grabbed the container of cottage cheese.  “Did you want some warm food?”

“This is fine.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

She was weird.  But he couldn’t really judge considering the fact that he had no idea who she was or where she had come from.

Maybe she was a Russian spy or something.

No, that’s stupid, he reminded himself.  Your military days are over.  No one is looking for you anymore.

He showed her to one of the guest rooms once she finished eating the entire container of cottage cheese, eyeing her in case she vomited.  He had no idea how the hell she did that.  He liked cottage cheese as much as the next person, but still.

“Um…  There’s a shower through there.  And I can… get you some more clothes and stuff,” he said softly.  He stayed far away, out of her reach, and he noticed her doing the same.

She nodded, chewing on her lower lip as she looked around.  “Okay.  Thank you.”

“I’ll let you… get to it then,” he said awkwardly.  A frown settled across his face as he watched Alpine jump up onto the bed as the girl looked into the bathroom.  “Traitor.”

“Can you show me how the shower works?” She asked, poking her head back out.  “And…  What are the… shower rules here?”

A wave of confusion spread over him.  Shower rules?  “Uh…  Just… let me know if you’re gonna shower soon so I know not to use all the hot water?”

“That’s it?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  She glanced over at Alpine, who was lying on her bed.  “Are you…  Are you showering soon?”

Bucky’s head tilted to the side, his brows furrowed.  His dark hair was still wet, and he was still in his briefs.

The girl nodded, letting out a weak laugh as her face flushed.  “Right.  Sorry.”  She pointed to the bathroom.  “The… shower?”

“Right!”  He slipped past her into the bathroom, making sure he didn’t touch her, before showing her how to work the knob and change the temperature.  “There we go…  Uh…  Have a good shower.  And I’m James… by the way…”  He let out a huff of air as he stood there with his hands on his hips.  “Right, um…”  He felt a bit awkward as he left quickly then.

I waited until after James had left to lock the bedroom door, swallowing as I shoved the desk chair under the handle.

There was a low whine, and I turned to see the cloud dog still on the bed.  I had thought it had left with him.  “Hi.  I thought you left.”  I reached out and scratched behind its ear, the fur soft under my fingers.

After taking a few minutes to just pet the puppy, I headed to the bathroom where the shower was still running, the mirror fogged up.

It had been so long since I’d had a hot shower.

After locking the bathroom door, I stripped off the clothes I’d been given and folded them nicely, laying them on the counter.  I could see the scrapes along my hips and cursed, wiping off the mirror so I could attempt to see them better.  I was covered in bruises, and the scrapes were clearly fresh.

But I had no idea what James thought of them or where he thought I got them.  Fuck.

I’d have to come up with some kind of excuse unless I was ready to tell him just where I’d come from.

Which just felt like it’d be so much work.  I wasn’t ready for that yet.

I didn’t come out of my room for the rest of the night.  It was the first time I’d ever been truly alone in years.

Even when He was gone, I was never truly alone.  Not when cameras captured every square inch of the basement.

When I crawled into bed, the cloud dog curled up against me and rested its head on my back.

I slept better than I had in years.  Even if I did end up vomiting up the cottage cheese.

Bucky was still confused by the girl three weeks later.  The snow hadn’t let up, which he was kinda upset about because she’d eaten one of the two containers of cottage cheese her first night.

He liked his cottage cheese.  And she ate it.

Which, okay.  He had been able to tell she was hungry and she clearly needed the food more than he did, but still.  She couldn’t have chosen something else?

Now they were having to ration the cottage cheese.  They had about half a cup left and they were both waiting for the other one to finish it off.

He was about ready to just tell her to take it.

He also didn’t understand how she’d stolen his dog from him.  Alpine had transferred her love and loyalty over to the strange girl within thirty seconds of meeting her, and it appeared that there would be no changing that anytime soon.  The dog was always at her side and wouldn’t even go outside to use the bathroom unless she sat on the porch, bundled in one of Bucky’s coats and wrapped in a blanket, and watched her.  Al didn’t even sleep with Bucky anymore.  She slept with the girl, her head on her back as if she was ensuring that she was still breathing.

On one hand, it was absolutely precious.

On the other, Bucky had lost his cuddle buddy.

But they gave each other a wide berth.  They never touched, which he was grateful for.  He didn’t… like touch.  And he got the implication that she didn’t either.

“You know, you living here kinda reminds me of the 2020 pandemic,” he said nonchalantly as they sat in the living room watching tv.  He was on the recliner, and she was curled up on the couch with Alpine in her lap.

Her head tilted to the side as she tore her attention from the movie playing on the tv.  “The what?”

Bucky blinked.  And then he blinked again.  “The…  The 2020 pandemic?  The pandemic three years ago?” He said slowly, his brows furrowed.  “Covid-19?  Everyone had to wear masks?  America was literally a cesspool of selfish assholes who were so stupid they believed Trump?”

“Trump…  Isn’t he that celebrity show host?  He was on Home Alone?  The Lost in New York one?” She asked.

He was going crazy.  He was sure of it.

“What?” She asked, sitting up a little straighter as she crossed her legs applesauce style, causing Alpine to whine before settling back down in her lap.  “Did I say something wrong?”

Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “Donald Trump became president in the 2016 election.  Then Biden won in 2020.”

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.  “Oh.”

“How did you not know?” He asked.

She shrugged, wrapping her arms around Alpine.  “I… haven’t watched the news… in a while…”

The man could understand that, but the whole ‘not watched the news’ in a bit really only worked when it came to things like… like a celebrity doing something stupid or a law being passed.  Two whole presidential elections?  That was…  That was Amish levels of ignorance.  Even if she didn’t watch tv, there were billboards and signs and merchandise like those stupid Make America Great Again hats.

As if America had ever been great.  And he had a double right to say that, since he’d been a stupid eighteen year old kid that the military had preyed on, getting him to join up and head overseas when America had no reason to be there.

He’d lost his arm because of it.

“How long has it been since you watched the news?” He questioned, his heart racing.  He had a bad feeling about it.  A really, really bad feeling that settled in his gut.

She buried her face in Alpine’s fur, her shoulders rising and falling as she huffed.

She’d put on some weight since getting there, thankfully.  He’d been making sure she got all her protein and started her on vitamins supplements he had.

“Eleven years…”

He paused, blinking slowly.  “Eleven years?  What the hell do you mean ‘eleven years?’”  He took a moment when he saw the way she flinched away from him.  He’d figured out pretty quick that she couldn’t handle any raising of the voice.  She’d shut down.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  But…  I still don’t know anything about you except your name.  Not even your last name.  I don’t know where you came from.  I still don’t know how the hell you ended up in my front lawn, half frozen to death.  I…”  He sighed.  “What happened?”

She was quiet for so long that he was sure she wasn’t going to reply.  He started to get ready to stand up, letting out a huff.

“I was thirteen,” I said quietly, my voice barely audible.  Alpine’s fur was so soft in my fingers and against my cheek.  It kept me grounded, kept me tied down to the Earth so I didn’t float away in the cloudy memories that covered the sky in my head.

Bucky was watching me closely, clearly surprised that I’d actually spoken.

My throat felt so dry.  “Um…  It was a few months after my birthday…  And I had just gotten a new phone.  It was… It was one of those sliding phones with a full keyboard?  It had a touch screen, and it was cherry red.”  I couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh as I remembered that stupid phone.  I’d been utterly obsessed with it, like any thirteen year old would be.  “I was in eighth grade and even though most people I went to school with already had an iPhone, that phone was the coolest thing ever.”

He was watching me in a way that was so intense, so focused.  I hadn’t ever had someone look at me like that.  Like he was actually listening.

“And, uh…  I used to walk to the river in the woods by my house,” I said, my voice growing soft again.  “I would go and sit and read on nice days…  I didn’t really have… friends.  I was a bit of a loner, and new.  We’d just moved there that April.”  My heart ached.  I missed that river.  I missed my parents.  More than anything.  “There was a man that I’d see sometimes at the river fishing…”

Bucky’s breath audibly hitched, and I could see his hands gripping his knees tightly.

“I was lonely,” I said, my voice cracking as I clutched onto Alpine that much tighter.  The puppy let out a whine as my eyes water.  “I didn’t have any friends yet.  I was an o-only child…  So, yeah, I’d talk t-to him.  I didn’t think it was wrong.  I f-figured if he was going to do something, he would’ve done it the f-first eighty times I s-saw him.”

“He took you, didn’t he?” He asked quietly, his voice gravelly.

Avoiding his eyes, I gave a short nod.  “Yeah.”

He stood up, his jaw set as he reached for his phone.  “We have to call the police.  If you were being held in a house on this mountain, then that means whoever took you lives close enough for you to have gotten here in a snowstorm.”

“NO!” I said as I scrambled up.  Alpine flopped to the side with a bark as she watched me scramble to knock his cell phone out of his hand.  “No cops!” I breathed out, eyes feral.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice soothing as he held up his hands in surrender.  “Okay.  No cops.  I won’t call the cops…”

I could see the confusion on his face, but a wave of relief washed over me as he agreed to not call the cops without asking too many questions.  I’d already shared so much.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, casually switching the subject as he sat back down.  He didn’t even grab his phone.

“Yeah.  Yeah, that sounds good,” I said as I took my seat again, swallowing thickly.  “Can we watch that one you were telling me about?” I asked as Alpine licked my face before settling in my lap once again.  “The…  The one about the Day of the Dead?”

An easy smile spread across his lips.  “Coco?  Yeah.  We can watch whatever you want.”

There was a shift in the air after she told Bucky about where she’d come from.  They still kept a generally wide berth, but… they were closer.  He was definitely in no hurry for her to leave.  Not when he could keep her safe in his cabin.

He felt a wave of protectiveness every time he thought of her.  He had someone to take care of now.  Other than Alpine and Steve when they were kids, he’d never had that.  Even Rebecca had been so independent growing up.

He liked having someone to protect, to take care of.  He liked checking in on her when he woke up in the morning and when he went to bed.

Which he’d started doing once she’d stopped locking her door at night.

Bucky liked preparing her breakfast and coffee for her in the morning, slowly helping her increase her food intake without hurting her tummy.  He liked checking in on her and making her laugh with his stupid jokes.

He liked… her.  She was easily the prettiest gal he’d seen, even if it was unassuming at first.

But he wasn’t a creep like the man who took her, whoever he was.  He wasn’t going to pressure her into being with him just because he was providing her shelter and food.

He wouldn’t use her like that.

And besides, it wasn’t as though she would want him.  She had just turned twenty-four that year, and he was forty-one.  There was a good seventeen year age gap, and it felt even wider once he’d realized that her education had effectively stopped at thirteen years old.

Of course, he’d started to remedy that.  He’d found some kind of online learning platform that he’d remembered from the pandemic.  Parents had started the free service in order to make sure that kids were still getting their education as schools shut down and they were pushed into Zoom classes in the autumn of 2020, after America failed and sent them back to school.

She was a lot smarter than she realized, and he made sure to tell her as often as possible.

They had a camaraderie that he hadn’t ever expected to find after he’d pushed Steve away.

Steve had been lucky.  He’d been good enough at drawing that he’d gotten a full ride to art school.  He didn’t have to enlist in order to have a future.

It wasn’t that Bucky was bitter about that.  Steve deserved it.  And now Bucky’s job was taking pictures of the mountains he lived on, and he got paid so much that he really only had to work a few months a year.

“You always talk about Steve,” she said softly one night as they ate dinner in the living room, as per their routine.  “Do you still talk to him?”

“Uh…  No,” he said quietly.  “Lately I’ve been thinking about reaching out, though…  I miss him.”

Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him, her spoon halfway to her mouth.  He’d made chicken tortilla soup, since that had apparently become her favorite.  “What happened?  If you don’t mind me asking…”

Bucky smiled weakly down at his own half empty bowl.  “Well…”  His spoon clinked against the side.  “It was hard after I came home… from overseas…  I’d lost my arm…  I wasn’t the same guy I was…”  He took a deep breath.  “I was angry… at everything… and I took it out on him, even when it wasn’t his fault…  And then one day I just packed up and left.  Found my way here.  I bought this place with the money I had and fixed it up…  It was a real dump.  Basically foreclosed.  But I spent an entire summer fixing it.  Had to get it done before the first snow.  And it also got me to figure out how to use my prosthetic.  It’s some… fancy experimental thing.”

There was a flicker of the lights, and then nothing.  It went completely dark.  The heater stopped, the clock on the top of the stove went off.

“Bucky?” She whimpered, the fear evident in her voice.

“Hey, it’s okay.  It’s okay.  I’m here,” he said as he used his phone flashlight to illuminate the situation a little bit.  “I’m gonna find some flashlights, okay?  You stay right there with Alpine.”

She nodded, setting her bowl to the side and wrapping her arms around the puppy.  “Okay…  H-Hurry back.”

Oh, he definitely would.  He didn’t wanna leave his bear cub alone for too long.

He found two flashlights in the basement before coming back.  “Okay, let’s get all the blankets and stuff together,” he said as he handed her one of them.  “It’s gonna get cold real quick without the heating working.”  There was no way he was gonna be able to get out to look at the generator with how heavy the snow was falling.

They piled all the blankets up on his bed before she crawled under the mountain of them, Alpine curling up next to her like always.

She watched as Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of his back.  She could practically see the steam coming from his ears from how much he was overthinking.  “You can take your arm off, you know,” she said quietly, sitting up on her elbows.  “I’m…  I’m not gonna think it’s weird.”

Bucky let out a weak laugh.  “You sure, bear cub?” He asked, his voice wavering.  “I don’t want to freak you out…”

“Something that’s a part of you could never be bad,” she said quietly.

His heart stuttered inside his chest.  He didn’t know what to say in reply.  He’d never had someone say something like that.  His hand was shaking as he reached up and undid his prosthetic.  It was a whole thing he went through every night and every morning, since it was attached to his nerves.  He hissed as it finally came off, setting it in the open case on the ground as he rolled his shoulders a few times to get the tension out.

“See?” She said as she watched him, her eyes running over his back muscles and the scars that covered his shoulder.  “There’s nothing bad about you.”

Bucky slowly crawled under the blankets, staying on the other side of the bed.  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“You gonna stay over there all night?’

He blinked, and then he blinked again, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.  “I…  What?”

She was still sitting up on her elbows, her lower lip caught between her teeth.  Her eyes were flickering between the blankets and him.  “You don’t have to stay over there…  I’m not… gonna break if we cuddle, you know…”

Bucky’s heart stopped inside his chest as his mind went blank.  He suddenly wasn’t thinking anymore about how he might hurt her.  She wanted him.  Or at least… wanted him to cuddle with her.

Which he was more than happy to comply.

I scooted over a little closer to Bucky when I realized he was frozen staring at me.  He seemed to be in shock over the fact that I wanted to cuddle.

“Jamie?” I said softly, my fingers grabbing onto his arm and tugging him closer.  “Please?”

I watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded.

“I mean…  You don’t have to,” I added quickly, feeling a flash of anxiety.  What if I had imagined everything?  The flirting?  The calling me bear cub?  “Not if…  Not if you don’t want to.”

Maybe my emotional growth was just as stunted as my educational growth.

But then moved closer to the center of the bed, his strong arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.  So close that I was lying on top of his chest.  He was so nice and warm.

And so strong.  He wasn’t like one of those guys in Hollywood or the bodybuilders that were all dehydrated in order to look like they had a twenty pack of abs or something.  He was the real kind of strong.

It was sexy as hell.

And it had been so long since I’d had a gentle touch…  Or had someone hold me just for the sake of holding me.

I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed it until Bucky was holding me close, his lips pressing to my forehead.

“James?  If you don’t mind me asking…  How did you lose your arm?”

I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took in my question.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I…  I want to,” he insisted as he brought me that much closer.  His chin rested on top of my head.  “I was on break…  And these little local kids loved playing hopscotch with us.  We’d draw out the hopscotch on the ground and we would use a little rock and all that…  Then one day, there was a truck out by the road.  One of ours.  We didn’t think anything of it even though it wasn’t where it was supposed to be.  We figured that out later.”  He pressed his lips to my head.  He was trembling, even if he was trying to hide it.  “We were searching for a good rock to use… and when I got close to grab a rock under the wheel… someone set off a bomb.  Blew my arm clean off.  It was all in… all in slow motion.”  Bucky sighed, shaking his head.  “I’d rather it be me then one of those little kids though.”

I sighed, squeezing him tight.  “You’re a good man, James.”  He clearly didn’t wanna think about it anymore, so I quickly changed the subject.  “Have you ever had someone braid your hair?” I asked as I reached up, running my fingers through his long hair.

“Can’t say I have,” he said, a chuckle reverberating through his chest.  “Why?  You wanna braid my hair for me, bear cub?”

I hummed, twirling a strand of his hair around my fingers.  “Mm…  I think it’d look real pretty braided…”

“Pretty?  You calling me pretty?” He snorted.

“Mmhm.”

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause you’re pretty.”

By the blush on his cheeks, I could tell that he hadn’t ever been called pretty again.

And I knew I’d have to start calling him pretty a lot more.

Bucky had a shy smile on his face as he squeezed me closer to him, burying his face in my hair.  “You’re prettier, bear cub.”  He kissed my forehead again, humming.  “Get some sleep.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It was another two months before there was a break in the snow long enough for them to be able to head to town for more groceries.  Plus, they needed to stop and get her some clothing that actually fit her.

Not that Bucky didn’t mind her wearing his clothes.  He liked it a lot, actually.  His little bear cub in his sweaters and such.

But she did want some pants that fit her proper and some underwear, at least.

And she was excited, but clearly anxious.  “Come on, Alpine,” she said happily as they ran out to the truck, Bucky following quickly behind.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

“Shut it,” she said, covering her face in Alpine’s white fur.

He was falling for her.  Hard.  Even after the electric came back on, they hadn’t stopped staying in the same bed.  It just felt natural.  They hadn’t done anything more than cuddle, but he wasn’t exactly in a rush.  Bucky was very happily letting her take the reins when it came to how quick they moved.

But he did wanna talk to her about being together officially at some point.

The one thing he was really worried about was the fact that she still wouldn’t let him call the police.

He just wanted to find the man who had hurt her and wring his neck with his bare hands.

Or at least have him thrown in jail.  At the very least.

The first thing they did was get her some clothes and shoes so she could change into them, even though he was pleased to note that she did keep on his sweater.

She looked really, really good in green.

Like, really good.

“We need at least two containers of cottage cheese,” she said as she grabbed them, grinning.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, coming up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.  He couldn’t help it.  He loved touching her.  Preferred to have at least one hand on her at all times.  “Better make that three containers, bear cub.  From what I remember, someone ate an entire container in one sitting and then promptly threw all of it up.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”  Her cheeks flushed as she nuzzled into him.  “And I only have two hands, James.”

A slow smirk spread over his lips as he looked at her pretty face.  He loved getting her all flustered.  “I didn’t say you had to grab it all at once.”  As if to make a point, he reached over and grabbed a third container, moving to set it in the cart.

It was when he had turned his head away for less than thirty seconds that he heard the sound of plastic hitting the ground, and saw cottage cheese splattered across the marble tiles.

“Bear cub?” He said in confusion as he looked around.  But she’d disappeared.  His brows furrowed as his eyes met Brock Rumlow’s, who was glowering at him for some fucking reason.  His eyes flickered down to his outfit, his heart stopping inside his chest when he saw the badge.

Brock Rumlow was a police officer.

His bear cub hated cops and refused to let him call the cops.

She’d disappeared when she saw him.

Fuck.

He didn’t like the thoughts that were running in his head.

Bucky had to find her before Brock did.

He didn’t even attempt to act nonchalant as he ran through the store, leaving the cart there.  His heart was absolutely racing.

Alpine wasn’t sitting outside the front door where they’d left her.

He rushed to the parking lot, breathing out a sigh of relief when he found her and Alpine in the truck, huddled down on the floor.  “Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed out as he got in the driver’s seat.  He didn’t even buckle before he was peeling out of the parking lot.  “He’s not gonna touch you, baby.  I promise.”

She looked up at him with glassy eyes, tears staining down her soft cheeks.  “H-He…  He’s the one who…”

“I know,” he said quietly as he reached over to take her hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing.  He was flying up the mountain as fast as he could without spinning out, heading for the cabin.  “I know that it’s him.  But he’s not going to touch you, okay?  I’m not gonna let him.  I’m gonna protect you.”  He handed her his phone out of his pocket.  “Bear cub, can you go to my contacts and call Sam?  Tell him we need him as soon as possible.”

She nodded, her hands trembling as she found the name and called.  “H-Hello?  This is Bucky’s friend and w-we need someone at Bucky’s immediately.  Please.”

When they got back to the cabin, he rushed her inside.  “Go upstairs to our bedroom, lock the door, and then go to the bathroom and lock the door,” he said.  “Take the handgun in my bedside table with you.”

“J-Jamie, I’m scared,” she whimpered, her hands shaking.

He rushed forward, his hands holding her face as he pulled her into a kiss.  “It’s all gonna be okay.  But don’t come out for anyone that isn’t me, alright?” He said softly, caressing her cheeks.  “Take Alpine with you.”

She nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief as she went.

He grabbed the gun he had hidden in the living room, quickly loading it.  He knew that Rumlow would be coming up after them, especially if he was the one who had kept his precious girl kidnapped for over a decade.

He had a lot to lose.

But so did Bucky.  He’d just gotten his girl, and he wasn’t losing her anytime soon.

Bucky Barnes would not be losing the one person that made him feel human again.

And if it came down to it, and he died protecting her, he’d be okay with that as long as she was safe.  He’d just have to bring down Brock with him.

He stiffened as he heard the car pull into the drive with a roar and then the slamming of the door.  He knew it wasn’t Sam.  It would take him longer than that to get up there considering when they’d called.

Brock didn’t even bother knocking.  He shot through the lock and threw the door open.

It was all a blur.  Bucky shot at him and managed to catch him in the thigh, but Brock just kept coming.  He was pretty sure he had a bulletproof vest on, too.

“So this is where the little brat’s been?” Brock snarled, glaring as he pointed the gun at him.  “I figured she’d died out in the snow.  Would’ve been better if she had.”

Bucky wasn’t going to dignify it with a response.  He knew Brock was just trying to rile him up to get him to fuck up.  And he couldn’t let that happen when his girl’s life was on the line.

What he did do was aim at Brock’s hand and get him to drop the gun before he rushed forward and pinned him to the ground to wait for Sam.  He shoved him to the ground, glaring at him harshly.  “You will never touch her again,” he hissed, emphasizing each word as his hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed threateningly.  “And I’d fucking kill you now, but you don’t deserve a quick death.”  He spit in his face.  “I want you to get put in prison for life, and I want to hear about how your ass is getting kicked everyday for kidnapping and raping a little girl, and holding her hostage for over a decade.  I’m gonna personally make sure you never see the light of day again.”

As soon as the door opened and Sam came in with two other officers, he lifted his hands in surrender, getting off him once he knew that Brock wouldn’t be able to get out.

Before anyone could stop to question him, he ran upstairs.  “BABY?” He called out as he knocked on the bedroom door.

It took less than thirty seconds for his girl to open the door and throw herself into his arms, Alpine barking excitedly behind her.

“Hey, Alpine,” he said with a laugh as he scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as she buried her face in his neck.  “Did you protect your mama?  Yeah?”

She let out a weak laugh as she nuzzled in further.  “Are you okay?” She asked, her voice cracking as she pulled back to look at him, holding his face as she checked him for injuries.

“Bear cub, he didn’t even touch me,” he said softly, holding her close.  “He’s in cuffs now, being put in the back of a cop car to go to prison…”  He kissed her forehead.  “He can’t ever get near you again.  They’re gonna search his place and it’ll all be over.  You never have to go back there ever again.”

I jerked awake, letting out a broken scream.  Sweat dripped down my back, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Alpine let out a worried whine from where she laid on my feet, keeping them toasty.

“Hey…  Hey, I’m here,” Bucky whispered sleepily as he brought me into his chest with his one arm.  His prosthetic had been taken off earlier.  “I’ve got you, bear cub…  I’m right here…”

I crumbled into tears as I was pulled onto his lap, my nose brushing against his neck.  “J-Jamie…”

“Was it the dream again?”

I nodded, my hands grasping at him to hold him close.  “I wa-was back in that basement…  W-With Him.”

He had gotten to see the basement first hand.  The concrete walls.  The dirty mattress that rested on the ground without any sheets.  The bugs and the rats that I had shared that space with.  The broken window that Brock had covered with a trash bag.  The cameras.

He’d seen me through the whole trial.

It didn’t take long for Brock to be put on trial and found guilty.  Hell, the jury only deliberated for an hour before coming back and giving their verdict.

With all the evidence from his cabin and his own poor defense, I didn’t even have to testify, which was a relief.

The piece of shit actually thought he’d get off easy.  But he got fifty years, and considering he was already over forty, it wasn’t likely that he’d ever get to leave prison again.

There was a bit of… question about what would happen to me after.  Where I would go.

My parents came to see me at Bucky’s, and they started talking about me going home with them and how they still had my room all set up.

But I just couldn’t leave Bucky and Alpine.  Not after everything.

And as much as I knew that me being taken wasn’t their fault, I didn’t feel safe with them like I did with him.

I thought Bucky was going to cry when I said that I wanted to stay with him.  He’d rushed to reassure them that he was going to take care of me and he was already working on helping me get my GED.

They seemed to like him, which was good.

And yeah.  The nightmares still came back sometimes.  I would always be haunted, even with my therapists’ help.

“I’ve got you…  He’s never gonna touch you again.  You’re safe,” Bucky whispered as he kissed my cheek.  He pulled back, his hand cupping my face.  “I love you.  And I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.  And you know Alpine won’t.”

“I know,” I said softly as I rested my head against his chest as he laid us down again.  “I love you, too.”

No, the nightmares didn’t go away.  But that didn’t matter when I had Bucky.

[mmvalentine]

hi!! how are you? I’m the one who sent you that dream prompt lol

I was thinking of this (way less weird) prompt: where feyre and Rhys knew each other since kids and were together, there’s a part of the books that Rhys says he and mor used to be sent to the cabin when they got into trouble (I think?) and here it is: Rhys has got himself in a fight with his dad and is sent there alone, but feyre finds a way to go to him without anyone knowing and they have the cabin all to themselves *insert smut here*

Hello little dreamer! Alright I've done so much prompt work these last couple of days and was trying to work through them chronologically because that's what seems fair but now I am tired and I just want to do one more and then take a break and this one is hands down my FAVOURITE of the ones left in my inbox right now. So you're getting bumped up!! Bit of a long one, fair warning.

A Chink in the Wall

Rhys has been alive for eighteen years, has known Feyre for seventeen, and has loved her for what feels like a thousand. He does not remember a time without Feyre, he has known she is his mate since before he knew what the word meant, and their progression from childhood best friends to lovers was something he does not remembering happening at one particular time, but gradually, the same way his legs had grown longer.

What he does remember is the first time they'd slept together, and how he'd spent so long thinking about it beforehand that he'd thought he'd go mad, only to discover the real madness was once they'd started and then couldn't stop. He'd thought he was hyper-aware of Feyre before- now the scent of her hit him like a brick any time she walked in the room, and once he'd caught her scent he needed to be touching her. Would start to shake and fall apart at the seams until he could pull her into his lap.

Over the years, Rhys's mother always told him that he was too rough with Feyre. Did it when they were kids and did it now, when Feyre would be around their house and he constantly had his hands under her hair or squeezing on her her hip or scratching at her belly.

"You can put her down for one second, for Cauldron's sake," she'd say over dinner.

And Rhys knew why. Had always known that as the High Lord's only son, he had power roiling off him in waves. He figured it was part of the reason why he was always moving, more and more as he got older. Whether it was sparring with the Illyrians or crawling thought the bedroom of Feyre's bedroom window, it felt like he leapt between extremes these days. Felt like he was always thirsty and needing to swallow down violence and pleasure and feeling like water. His father called it the "age of fighting and fucking;" his mother said this is why they couldn't have nice things.

But his mother doesn't know Feyre like he does. Feyre isn't some fragile little girl, she is the strongest person he knows. She is the only one who, when he is throwing all he has at her, can not only contain the energy flooding out of him in uncontrollable torrents, but still loves him all the same for it.

So these days, he does not like to be without her. Does not like to be too far from her, and although they both have curfews, Rhys does not often sleep alone.

Today is a exception.

Today, Rhys is fighting with his father because he stole a fine bottle of brandy from his father's shelf and snuck it between the bars of the cell where Azriel has been locked away. Again.

Rhys yells that what they are doing to Azriel is cruel and if they let it go on they are just as bad. His father yells back that it is not their place to meddle in another family's business and what does this have to do with Rhys being a sneak and a thief? Rhys says it is typical of his father to care more about alcohol than the life of a fae, and his father says and what exactly are you trying to say boy? And then he tells Rhys that he was not so old that Rhys's power is greater than his just yet, and then the fight breaks out.

Rhys does not like to reflect on what happens next too much because he wants to win so badly, wants to best his father just once, but he is eighteen and his father is nine hundred and twenty and the High Lord of the largest court in Prythian.

Suffice to say, the fight is over when Rhys has a black eye and bruised ribs, his father is holding him off the floor by his shirt front, and his mother is pleading with him to put him down.

He drops Rhys with a thud, and Rhys glowers at him.

"The cabin," his father snarls.

"Surely he's had punishment enough," his mother says, but his father does not look at her.

"You come swinging your fists at me?" he says to Rhys. His voice is quiet now, but glitters with rage. "You steal from me, you defy me, and then you come at me with your pathetic little claws out? Well. You can spend three days in isolation."

Rhys looks toward his mother, but there's nothing she can do. He opens his mouth to sling a final insult at his father, but space is already folding around him and he's being sent where no one else can winnow in or out without his father's explicit say so.

Rhys spends the next twenty minutes angrily pacing the cabin. He flings shadows aimlessly at the cabinets, curses his father eight times to sunday, and punches a hole in the wall. It is the latter that gets Feyre's attention.

Ouch, she says through the bond. I felt that one.

Rhys drops onto a couch heavily, the anger washing out of him at the sound of Feyre's voice in his mind.

I'm sorry, he says. I know you hate it when I break things.

Things. Your own knuckles. Yeah it's not my favourite.

Rhys sighs. I'm in the cabin, he tells her.

I know, she says. What did you do this time?

Got into a fight with my dad.

Well did you at least land a couple good ones?

Rhys grins, in spite of himself. I did manage to get a kick into his stomach, this time.

Good, Feyre says. Unlike his mother, she never tells him to try to get along with his father.

I miss you, Rhys says.

You saw me this morning, Feyre points out.

Yes, replied Rhys, but you had way too many clothes on. It didn't count. He can almost feel Feyre shifting in his mind.

You always think I'm wearing too many clothes, she says.

I do, Rhys agrees. Not naked is not good enough.

He slouches back on the couch and closes his eyes. Although he is not yet powerful enough to take down his father, his power is growing. Day by day it stretches and expands uncomfortably, like growing pains, and when he's not in Feyre's bed, sometimes the shadows hound him at night. They claw at him now, rake at his chest like a cat that thinks it's giving affection but leaves you in tatters.

He turns his thoughts back to more pleasant things.

Take it off, he growls at Feyre. Take it all off. I hate it when I can't see your skin.

And what makes you think I've been wearing clothes this whole time? Feyre asks. Rhys freezes, and is rock hard in an instant.

Show me, he shoots down the bond.

Ask nicely, Feyre answers.

Please, Rhys says. Runs his talons down the shields of her mind from top to bottom. Please. Sends her a memory of him kissing her every inch of skin. Please.

Feyre's shudder reaches him like a whisper, and then he's seeing through her eyes.

The interior of her bedroom. Where he spends more time than in his own. Clothes strewn on the floor- boots kicked off in the corner. Illyrian leathers dumped in a pile. Under garments hanging off the end of the bed.

Feyre's bare ankles crossed in front of her on her bed, on top of the covers.

Rhys shivers. He watches Feyre's gaze travel excruciatingly slowly upward, up her shins, past her knees, onto her lovely thighs.

More, Rhys breathes, but Feyre pauses. Her knees bend and the view shifts, as if she has been sitting up and is now laying back down. I need you like I need air, Rhys whimpers, and his hand grabs at the insistent ache in the front of his pants.

Mmm, sighs Feyre. Sometimes I need you. Sometimes I think I could just do it myself. Her gaze finally shifts and watches her own hand slide between her legs.

Oh you cruel thing! Rhys says. He is now practically panting the sight of her starting without him. He loves it. He hates it. It's nowhere near enough.

You know it's not as good by yourself, Rhys tells her.

I don't know, Feyre muses. I'm pretty sure it's faster. Rhys growls.

Who needs faster, he says, when I can be so, so slow. He shows her the image of him settling between her knees. Pressing kisses that start at her knee and travel down her inner thigh. Laying the flat of his tongue on her and licking a lazy stripe up her pussy that ends in a suckling kiss over her clit.

Feyre moans straight down the bond, and it cleaves through Rhys like a arrow shot true. Get over here, he tells her, and Feyre laughs breathlessly.

I can't, lover, she says. Your father has that place warded like a prison, remember? Rhys swears out loud and hurls more shadows uselessly against the walls of magic.

Alright, alright, Feyre says to him. You know just throwing things at it isn't going to work.

Fuck this, Rhys says savagely. You're my mate, he can't keep us apart.

Well, we just need to outsmart him, then, Feyre reasons. He might be stronger, but I've always thought you were smarter. Well, she amends. At least you were when you bothered to use your brain and before you were all... testosterone-y.

Rhys finds himself smiling. Testosterone-y?

Yeah, you know, Feyre says. The old upstairs brain. Remember that guy?

Rhys laughs. He is always in awe of how quickly Feyre calms him down. I thought you liked my downstairs brain, he says in his midnight voice.

Use your upstairs brain to get me through the wards, and I'll show you how much I like your downstairs brain.

And that is more than motivation enough.

Rhys gets up off the couch, and paces around the room again. My dad has always been lazy with spells, he says. He relies on his brute strength, and on everyone being afraid of him more than anything else.

Okay, Feyre says, picking up his train of thought. So... what if there's a weakness in his wards?

A chink in the wall, Rhys agrees.

Yes.

Rhys stands still, and reaches out his mind. Probes against the wards surrounding the cabin, and is aware of Feyre doing the same on the other side. They work their way right around the cabin, when finally, Feyre breathes, here.

And then Rhys gathers every bit of power he has in him, and pushes it all against that one spot. Reaches through it, throws everything he's got until his hand is breaking through, Feyre's grabbing a hold of him, they're folding space and he pulls.

There's a shudder that runs through the cabin, and then an extremely naked Feyre falls right into Rhys's chest and they collapse on the thick carpet together.

For a second, they just blink at each other in surprise.

"It worked," says Feyre. And then Rhys realises holy shit it worked, and smoothly rolls so that Feyre is on her back and he is all over her.

"Great work," is all he says, and then he blinks and his clothes vanish too so they are both naked and the heat of her against his bare cock is absolutely unbearable. He groans, slides his hand under one of her thighs, squeezing gently, and hooks it over his elbow before pushing straight into her, unable to stand not being inside her for one more second.

Feyre moans and lifts her hips to him, barely less eager. Rhys wonders idly if the age of fighting and fucking applies to females, and then as Feyre's nails scratch angry red lines over his shoulders he thinks it might just. He wonders how long this age will go on for, and if his desperate need for Feyre will ever abate. He hopes it doesn't.

"I thought you were going to be slow," Feyre says, breathless but with the most gorgeous light dancing in her eyes. Rhys's body screeches at him but he manages to get control of his movements. To move in and out of her languidly, lazily, tortuously slow. Feyre seems to enjoy it at first, keeps her eyes on his until they're rolling back in her head.

But the longer it goes on the more sensitive she becomes, until she is writhing in his arms seeking more friction, and every time he hits his base she jolts like she's being electrified. The fact that he is tormenting himself, too, seems absolutely worth it for the knowledge that he alone can wring this kind of pleasure from her.

"Still rather play by yourself?" he teases. "Does it feel like this when it's just your own fingers?"

Feyre snaps her eyes open at this, and between jagged breaths, teases him right back.

"Sometimes," she says. "When I'm touching myself and picturing you." A shiver runs through Rhys. "When I've got one hand between my legs and the other squeezing my breast." She demonstrates the last, and Rhys watches with hunger as her hand goes over her own chest.

"Fuck," he bites out, and picks up the pace a little.

"When I've got you curled around my mind and showing me that you're touching yourself too."

Rhys speeds up again.

"But mostly, no," she says, barely able to speak now. "No, nothing feels as good as when you're fucking me senseless."

And Rhys can't argue with that. He forgets his self-control completely and loses himself in her, in her body, in the intoxication of the sounds that she makes when he's inside her. The irony of his sentence to a remote location is that for once, they are able to make as much noise as they want and every time Feyre moans Rhys thinks he gets a little high.

By the time Rhys is close, they have started to breathe in tandem, and he locks his eyes on hers so that seconds later they are coming together. Rhys is breathless with the beauty of her, has always loved the look on her face when she climaxes, and suddenly the prospect of being locked up alone for three days seems mighty appealing.

Feyre sighs, eyes closed and chest moving deeply as she gets her breath back. Rhys draws out of her and then immediately misses her. He kisses her cheeks, her nipples, her stomach, and then without really thinking about it, closes his mouth around her clit and strokes it back and forth with his tongue.

Feyre sighs his name, and the sound of it is so sweet that he redoubles his efforts, until Feyre is rocking her hips to him and before he knows it, they're starting again.

Rhys thinks its going to be a very good three days indeed.

**** Little babies. Sigh I do love them so. Thank you my sweet anon for this lovely prompt.

Bonus: click here to see what Rhys's dark powers look like when they're still growing and trying to figure their shit out.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-Yoongi

This is a continuation of the Bangtan!Family universe that has been created and running throughout my other drabbles. You can find the previous part to this drabble in All About You. 

Warning: Miscarriage and Pregnancy loss

I know this is a difficult and sad topic, but I think it needs to be written about, because 1 in 4 women-myself included-have suffered a miscarriage or pregnancy loss. And my heart is with you all. <3

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Family, Bangtan!Family, BTS as dads, Father AU, dad!bangtan, dad!Yoongi, Yoongi, Min Yoongi, BTS x you, BTS x reader, Husband Au, Family AU, Bangtan!Family Universe, Angst, Miscarriage, Pregnancy Loss, Jag-Eun, Yoongi x you, Min Yoongi x you, Yoongi x reader, Min Yoongi x reader, Suga

Genre: Angst

Soundtrack: Period by Purple K!ss

Title: Always With You

The sudden serious look on the ultrasound tech’s face should have cued you that something was wrong. 

But you were too busy looking at the screen, too busy waiting to see the first picture, too busy squeezing Yoongi’s fingers between your own. 

“I’ll be right back.” The woman says quietly, startling you both as she gives you a quick bow before exiting the room on hushed footsteps. 

“What was that all about?” Yoongi questions, shifting beside you from one foot to the other where he stands next to the exam table. 

“I dunno-” You start to say, still unsure at why the tech hurried off like she had, but before you can posture anymore, the door is opening and your doctor is appearing, followed silently by the absent tech, still just as serious faced as before. 

“Yoongi, (Y/N). Good to see you again.” Your doctor shakes Yoongi’s hand and pats you gently on the shoulder, before turning to the ultrasound and peering over the rim of his glasses at the black and white fuzzy picture. He motions to the tech, who turns off the lights, and places the probe back onto your lower stomach as he offers you the hint of a smile. “Let’s see what we find, hm?” 

There is silence, as you hold your breath, waiting to hear the sound of the rapid, fetal heartbeat echo through the room from the monitor. 

But there is nothing but quiet-for what feels like way longer than there should be-and then your doctor, his face and eyes grim behind his glasses, removes the probe and waves a hand for the tech to flick the lights back on. 

The fluorescent bulbs flash on overhead, blinding you momentarily, and Yoongi squints beside you. 

“Yoongi, why don’t you have a seat.” Your doctor motions for the chairs in the corner, as he hands you a tissue to clean the gel off your belly, and gently helps you sit up with a hand on the small of your back. “There’s a few things we need to discuss.” 

You feel your heart clogging up your throat, and Yoongi’s fingers curl harder around your own. 

The doctor sighs when neither of you move, and adjusts his glasses, before he says, voice full of quiet condolence, “There’s no heartbeat. I’m so sorry.” 

The news hits you like a ton of bricks, leaving your mouth in one, fell swoop in the only word you can think of in the moment, “What?” 

Yoongi lets out a long breath beside you, and his arm snakes around your suddenly trembling shoulders. 

“Your baby has passed away, (Y/N).” Your doctor reaches out to cover your hand, clenched now into a fist in your lap. “I’m sorry for your loss. We can let you have as long as you need-”

Suddenly, the room is stifling and the tears are too hot in the back of your throat and you can’t breathe,and god, you feel like you’re going to suffocate on the spot. 

“Please take me home, Yoongi. Please.” You ignore the doctor, turning to your husband, who has schooled his face into an unreadable expression. “I don’t want to stay here.” 

Your hands claw into the fabric of his shirt-as if you’re desperate to ground yourself-and his dark eyes reflect, just for a moment, the same deep pain that must be contorting your own features. 

You cannot stay here. Not in this sterile room where you have just learned that your baby is gone, that the life inside of you has been snuffed out. 

“Okay, baby.” Yoongi murmurs, his voice hoarse and deep with unsaid emotion, and he helps you down from the exam table without another word. 

*********

Your mother keeps Jag-Eun overnight after hearing the news. 

And when the bleeding and cramping starts around midnight, the one thing you can be thankful for is that your daughter is not here to witness any of it-the loss, the pain, the absolute mess that you dissolve into. 

Yoongi, sitting behind you in the bathtub, holds you the whole time, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, chin resting in the crook between your shoulder and neck. 

And nothing makes it okay-but somehow-the feel of his warm exhales on your skin, and the rhythm of his heart against your back, makes it bearable. 

Just barely. 

Only barely. 

“There’s so much blood.” You whimper out once the cramps have died down, and your fingers have lost some of their tension where they cling onto your husband’s arms. You feel sick to your stomach, seeing the crimson drying on the inside of your thighs. 

“I know.” Yoongi says softly, gently in your ear, as he reaches up to push some hair back from your sticky forehead. “The doctor said there would be. It’s okay, baby.” 

You glance down, and the red rimmed tips of your fingernails against his skin push the tears over the lids of your eyes once more, and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard to silence the sob that wants to rip hard from your chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Yoongi murmurs into your ear, as he presses a kiss carefully against the skin there, his fingers stroking patterns onto your arms in a comforting manner. 

You let out a hoarse, humorless laugh, and reach up to swipe at the tears that just won’t seem to stop falling. “Why? It’s not your fault.” 

There is a beat of silence, and then Yoongi offers back gently, “It’s not your fault either, (Y/N).” 

You don’t answer, because you’re trying to hold back the sobs once more, and you’re afraid that if you look at him or try to loose your lip from between your teeth, that you’ll finally and officially crack all the way open. 

“(Y/N).” Yoongi repeats your name, more seriously this time, his tone firm, and you feel his fingers slip beneath your chin as he pulls your head around to face him. You keep your eyes on the floor of the tub, but he does not go on until you finally look at him, vision still watery with tears. His lips are set into a thin line as he states forcefully, “It’s not your fault.” 

And the floodgates open. 

A sob wrenches from your throat as you bury your face into Yoongi’s shirt, and his arms slip more firmly around your waist as he pulls your body against his and you sit there for a long time-in the bathtub, soaked with each other’s tears-mourning the loss of a life you would never know. 

******

The morning after, you are bundled beneath the blankets on your bed, exhausted from the night before, emotionally drained, wrapped in one of Yoongi’s hoodies, when your husband slides underneath the quilt beside you. 

“You’re done?” You ask, voice husky from crying, throat raw. 

Yoongi nods, scooting closer to you, as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into the warmth of his chest, taking a few deep breaths of his natural scent, feeling calmer already now that he’s back beside you. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs, as his hand goes up to card through your tangled hair, and then trace patterns down your back. “I wrapped the box you made in one of the blankets and buried it beneath the rose bush in the balcony garden.” 

You nod, feeling tears gather once more, before you sniff and whisper out, “Good. Thanks for being here, Yoongs.” 

“Baby.” Yoongi’s fingers find purchase beneath your chin, and he tips your head back to look at you, reaching up to wipe at your tears gently with the pad of his thumb. “You know I’m always with you.” 

You nod, not able to find the words around the lump of emotion in your throat, and bury your face once more back into the comfort and darkness of his chest. 

He pulls you to him and the two of you lie there in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the other breathe. 

“And you know who else is always with you?” 

You glance up at Yoongi’s words, and you can feel the tears starting to dry on your cheeks as he offers you the hint of an affectionate, sad smile, before he gently reaches out to tap the end of your nose with his finger. “Jag-Eun.” He lets his finger drop down to your breastbone, where your heartbeat can be felt through the skin. “In here. And you know who else?” 

You shake your head, though you have a good idea where he going with this. 

His finger hesitates briefly on your skin, and his eyes seem a little more shiny than before, as he forces himself to go on, voice low and soft now, as he holds your gaze. “Angel baby Min. And all the other babies we’re gonna have in the future.” 

You manage the hint of a watery smile, and Yoongi leans over to press a soft kiss to the curve of your lips, and you’re sure he can taste the salt water from your tears when he pulls back, just barely, to look at you once more. 

“Always with you, baby, yeah?” He asks in nothing more than a whisper, and you curl your fingers around his own where they rest at your hip. 

“Always with me.” You reply back fervently before you hug him to you once more. 

[junova]

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?�� He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before,  I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

[quindolyn]

Midnight Walks Part 2 || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 3020

Note: I finally finished part 2, this is horrible, just completely plotless and a lot of fluff but it was stuck in my head and I wanted to get it out before I started working on something else (what will that be? You know what that’s an excellent question). It’s a bit shorter than part 1 but also much longer than necessary. I hope you all enjoy it or at least don’t hate it, constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated.

Warnings: Nonsexual nudity, hair washing, fluff, comma abuse, the Addams Family (I watched it all the time with my dad when I was like 7), lots of fluff, barely proof read and done so at 11:36 pm my time so

Masterlist

Part 1

What you and James hadn’t counted on was for it to start pouring down on you as the two of you laid, splayed out along the playground structure, metal of the bars cutting into your backs. After the kiss in the rain James insisted on having the two of you had stumbled home, wrapped up in each other’s arms, smearing sloppy kisses on any exposed skin you could get your lips on. It probably took you guys a solid 20 minutes longer than it should’ve to get home, you must’ve looked ridiculous meandering down the residential street trying to swallow each other’s tongues, drenched in rain. Eventually you made it home, managing to fall through the front door without breaking anything in the house, yourselves included though there were admittedly a few close calls. “You want a bath doll?” James asked you, cupping your face in his rough, calloused hands, fingertips dripping with rain brushing small, soft circles on your cheekbones. Lifting one of his hands off your face you cradled it in both of yours, tracing a healing callus that sort of looked like a flower, with some very wonky petals, but a flower nonetheless, “Yeah, that sounds good. You’ll take it with me?” Pressing a kiss to your nose he spoke, “Of course, not gonna run a bath for my pretty girl and not take it with her. M’Not an idiot my love.” “Guess not,” You shrugged, a smirk playing at your lips, earning you a playful push against your shoulder. Lifting you into his arms bridal style he carried down the hall to your room where we placed you down on your bed, still being clad in his varsity jacket, you pulled it tightly around yourself to conserve any heat you may’ve had while trying not to shiver from the water that still soaked you. You could feel the comforter beneath you getting wet. “Damn you’re pretty in my clothes baby doll.” He simpered pulling your arms parallel to the floor so he could see how much longer the sleeves of the jacket were than your arms. “They just swallow you whole,” He commented, really more to himself than to you. “Be right back m’love.” He promised before he traipsed out of the room and across the hall to where your bathroom was. You leaned back on your bed as you listened as the water started running when James turned the faucet on, the thrumming sound quickly lulling you to sleep. You awoke in Jamie’s arms but 15 or so minutes later as he carried you into the bathroom once the giant claw foot tub had finally filled to his satisfaction. You smiled dreamily as the sweet scent of your favorite bubble bath flooded your nostrils, you blinked your bleary eyes to see the breathtakingly handsome face of your boyfriend. “Bath ready?” You mewled, your voice weaker than you would’ve thought after such an inconsequential amount of sleep. “Yeah, nice and hot (Y/N/N), just how you like it.” “Great,” Pushing the heel of your hand into your eyes you tried to wipe away the sleep that had so quickly overtaken you. James placed you on the bathroom counter with ridiculous care, as though you were the single most precious thing in the world, handling you with such gentleness you were almost afraid about getting used to it, knowing if you were ever treated with anything less you may just break. “Let’s get this off you.” As he pushed the jacket off your shoulders and down your arms, seeing an opportunity James took it, kissing the delicate skin of your shoulder. “That tickles Jamsie,” You scolded completely unconvincingly as his light, barely there stubble grazed your skin. “Sorry darling,” The shit eating grin on his face said otherwise, “Just couldn’t help myself.” As you reached around to undo your bra James pulled his shirt over his head, leaving it to rest on the closed lid of the toilet, once his pants were pooling on the floor along with his boxers he moved to you, still perched where he first set you in your shorts. You lifted your hips so he could pull down your shorts, still soaking from a mixture of fountain and rain water. Once he sliped them and your panties off your legs his hands were back on you, caressing the your sides as he stared into your eyes, a dazed look you usually equate with post sex washes over his face. “What are you thinking about J?” You asked, tangling your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. “You,” He responded simply, leaning forward so that the two of your foreheads are melded together, his nose bumping yours, “And how much I adore you.” If you didn’t love him as much as you did you probably would’ve complained about how your face hurt from all the smiling you did around him, you knew smile lines were in your distant future but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Because everytime you looked in the mirror you would be reminded of him, almost as if you got to carry around a piece of him with you forever. “I love you too but I’m cold, can we get into the bath?” He nodded, pulling you to the edge of the counter, moving so your legs were linked together at the small of his back, hands clasping together at the back of his neck. “Let’s go, little koala,” He chuckled, one arm on your back, the other supporting your bum, a stray finger stroking your bare skin. You closed your eyes at the nickname, savoring the vibrations of his chest as he spoke and laughed. When the both of you were settled into the tub, him behind you, hands rubbing up and down your arms, his chin rested on your shoulder so that your faces were pressed together, cheek to cheek. “Did you like the walk bub?” “I did!” You smiled, turning to that your nose was prodding against the side of his face, “I don’t think I’ve thanked you-” “You don’t have to,” He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me for spending time with you, I want to be here for you, you don’t need to pay me in ‘thank you’s’. I’m just glad I was able to help you.” “I still want to say thank you,” You murmured, reaching down into the soapy bubbles fishing around for his hand for a moment before he caught on to what you were doing and moved his hand to yours. You smiled gratefully when you felt his much larger fingers brush the back of your hand. His hum tickled your back forcing you to stop yourself from wiggling around so that the nearly overflowing water wouldn’t splash out the sides of the tub. “Can I wash your hair Jamsie?” You asked him, twisting around so that your chest was pressed to his, faces mere inches from each other. “You want to angel?” He let out a small chuckle when you enthusiastically nodded your head, your eyes going wide as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, excitedly gnawing at it. “Okay sure darling, how are we going to do this?

After you both had abandoned any pretense of keeping all of the bath water inside the bath, maneuvering was a lot easier. As you sidled up behind him you ran your hands down his muscled back, relishing in the feeling of his skin against your palms. “So pretty,” You murmured, leaning to gently kiss in between his shoulder blades. “Uh, Jamie?” You asked shyly. “Yeah?” “Could I wash your back once I’m done with your hair?” You asked nervously, as though he wasn’t already sitting in between your legs, the both of you stark naked. “I’d love that (Y/N),” He leaned back into your embrace, forgetting that he was much larger than you, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing yours and his initials onto the skin of his stomach. Your eyes flitted over to the shelf next to the tub where rows of shampoos and conditioners, body washes and scrubs sat. You plucked a bottle from your collection and flipped off the lid, squeezing the eucalyptus scented shampoo into your hand. “Can you scooch down for me baby?” You asked, tapping his shoulder as he wordlessly complied sliding so that his body was submerged in the bubbles and water up to his nipples. Working the soap into his hair you massaged his scalp drinking up the soft whimpers and groans he let out as you cleaned his hair. “Feels so good baby.” He praised reaching a hand back to pet your wrist. “I’m glad you like it,” Your response came with a kiss to his temple. Once 10 or so minutes, give or take, had elapsed you figured his scalp was clean enough, “Alright baby, dunk for me,” You instructed, dipping your hands into water to clean them. “Don’t want to be done though bubs, felt so nice.” He whined like a petulant toddler, reaching back for your hands trying to get them back on his scalp. “I could conditioner it for you if you’d like.” You offered, feeling benevolent. “Yes please Princess.” As you pulled the conditioner bottle from its place on the shelf James rinsed his hair, quickly moving back between your legs. He hummed as you gently yanked at his tresses, fingering in the conditioner into his hair. “I could get used to this (Y/N),” He purred, closing his eyes as waves of pleasure crested over him. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He confirmed. “When do you want to get married?” You wondered aloud to him as the thought swept over your consciousness as you continued to massage his scalp. “(Y/N) (L/N), are you proposing to me?” He quickly turned his head, craning his visage to try to meet your gaze. “Hey, stop it,” You scold, moving his head so he’s facing back forward, “Gonna get soap in your eye if you’re not careful.” “You’re avoiding my question (L/N),” James sang, relaxing back into you as you continued your ministrations on his scalp. “Shove it Potter.” “Calm down Mrs. Potter,” He teased you, “Of course I want to get married, one day. I haven’t thought about it too much though, we’re still so young.” “Oh,” You failed at masking your disappointment, “I guess.” “Baby,” He turned around to face you, hair still soapy with bubbles which ebbed at his hairline, “I am going to marry you one day, trust me, if I have any say in it I’m going to put a ring on your finger but I prefer to live in the moment with you, I need to savor every second we have together, can’t spend too much of my time looking to the future. Don’t want to miss what we have now.” HIs explanation brought a gentle smile to your face, “I get it.” You nodded. “But,” He began. “Yes?” “If I did think about us getting married…” He trailed off. You whined, removing your hands from his hair, “Come on just tell me.” “Don’t stop, why’d you stop?” James groaned going limp. “You’re a literal child, you know that Potter? Keep talking and I’ll keep massaging.” “Hmph,” After a minute he relented, “I wanna wait until we’re done with school, and not just high school, college, grad school, law school, I don’t know, whatever we want to do, wherever life takes us.” “You really want to wait that long?” “I want to wait until we’re stable, I don’t want to start our life together without a solid foundation.” “I understand that, it’s smart.” It was smart, James was a smart person and being captain of the football team and thinking through all of those pranks he and his friends were so partial to playing he had an amazing strategic mind, something you both admired and envied. Which is why you didn’t buy that he hadn’t thought about your wedding, even if he wanted to, you knew James, he couldn’t deny himself. “At our wedding I want a sit down dinner, buffet is too tacky.” You were right, he had thought about it. “Yeah?” “Yeah, and I’ve thought about your dress too.” A truly comically large grin spread across your face. “Obviously you should wear whatever you want but I think you’d look breathtaking in a ballgown. Lots of lace and bling.” “Bling?” “Yes, bling, you should look like a princess on our wedding day. But I’m torn,” “You are?” “Yes,” He exclaimed emphatically, as though he was being forced to make the most important decision in his life and both options were equally appealing. “Because you’d also look gorgeous in a simple dress, nothing too flashy, understated but still elegant, because at the same time I don’t want the dress distracting from your beauty. All eyes should be on you that day.” “You’re a sap James Potter, a sap.” Despite your words you felt a fluttering in your chest, James Potter was many things. An idiot, slightly arrogant, a pain in your ass, the sweetest man alive, and a genuinely good person, even if he was a sap. “I think I’m done darling,” He lifted his arm out of the bath, showing you his pruney fingers, “I’m turning into a raisin bub.” “But what about your back?” “Next time?” “Sure darling, next time.”

James’ shirt hung low around your knees, the soft, warm fabric tickling your damp skin, you laid on your back, your head resting against his chest which was steadily rising and falling, his toned arm wrapped around your waist, inching up the fabric of his shirt to get to your bare stomach. “You wanna watch a movie darling?” “Something stupid please.” After much debate the two of you settled on the Addams Family Values, James argued that it wasn’t stupid though you said it was pure “brain candy”, not anything too engaging or something you had to pay any attention to but still enjoyable. About 20 minutes into the movie neither of you had so much as uttered a single word, settling into the comfortable silence of merely being in each other’s embrace. That was until James spoke, abruptly breaking the silence, “Peonies,” Was all he said. “‘M sorry what?” You grumbled, your voice rough from being half asleep when he spoke. “Peonies, for our wedding, my mom has always grown them in her garden, she grows lots of flowers roses, tulips, carnations, aster, sunflowers too, but peonies have always been my favorite. Sirius and I, when we were little would sit in her garden and pick them, weaving them into little flower crowns for the other to wear, we were her Flower Princes.” “I’m a little offended you haven’t made me a flower crown J, You playfully griped, “Swear to God sometimes I think you’re more in love with Sirius than me.” “Never,” His voice was strong, certain, as he tightened his hold on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he flung one of his legs over both of yours, “Love you most (Y/N), for forever I love you most.” His words became slightly garbled as he babbled, sleep starting to over take him. “I know,” You soothed his wounded ego, stroking his arm, “I’m just playing with you Jamsie.” “Don’t want you to ever think I don’t love you.” “I’m not sure how I could,” You started, the events of the past 3 hours rushing through your brain, the phone call, the hug through the window, him tying your shoes for you, the fountain, his jacket, the bath, the Addams Family. You don’t show up for someone like James did for you unless you really love them, which evidently he did. “You, James Potter, are the most wonderful man and I love you beyond comparison.” “I love you too darling, forever and for always.” It didn’t take you long to fall asleep lying in his arms, he pulled up a blanket around both of your shoulders, both of you being too lazy to get under the actual covers. To the metronome of James’ heart beat, and the rhythm of him moving his leg over your you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Sunday morning you woke up sorely missing the morning prior, waking up in James’ arms was unlike anything you could ever dream of. And instead of sleeping in until 10 like you had with him you were up at the crack of dawn to the sound of the construction going on next door at your neighbor’s house. After much resistance on your part you dragged yourself out of bed and downstairs to fix yourself some breakfast, wishing James was there to make it for the two of you as he had yesterday before going off to work at the local consignment store. Smearing jam over your toast you aimed it for your mouth missing by an inch or two as you were distracted, scrolling through your phone in your opposite hand. Apricot jam smeared across your face in a mess of orange-yellow glory when you jumped at the abrupt sound of the doorbell ringing. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” You murmured, dropping your toast onto your plate before rushing to get the door, not wanting a second ring to wake the other people in your house. “Hi,” You greeted opening the door to a middle aged woman with a worn face in a pair of khakis and a company shirt you didn’t bother taking too close a look at, “How can I help you?” “Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?” She asked, a pleasant smile gracing her lips. “Yes, I am.” You confirmed, puzzled as to why this woman was at your door so early in the morning.” “Someone ordered flowers to your house for you,” She explained patiently, detecting your befuddlement, “There should be a card in the arrangement.” She said as she handed you an extravagant bouquet of brilliant pink flowers. Peonies.

tagging: @randomoutsiders​

[theinkmage]

Heartbreak

hI guysss sO i gave myself a prompt  : The hero and the villain have been tasked with getting close to one another to obtain information for their respective teams, yet both are unaware of the other’s task. And one of them kills the other in the end. 

TW/CW : death mention, stabbing, blood

"Remember, your sole mission tonight is to eliminate the opposition. If you fail, don't even think of coming back here, or else it will be your head on the chopping block."

The hero threw an arm across the villain's shoulders, pulling them closer as a sudden bout of gusty wind blew across the dark street, adding to the sharp biting chill of the night. Winter was close, which meant that the hero's year-long mission was about to come to an end. The hero should be jumping for joy, really, that if they managed to pass this level, they would be promoted. But they couldn't find an ounce of happiness in them.

"Your job was to get close to this particular hero and extract valuable information that will be of utmost importance to us. I assume you have managed to get most of the data that we need to bring down the heroes, given your competence. If that is so, then we have no more use for them."

 The villain swallowed nervously, the cold metal of their dagger nudging uncomfortably against their arm, nestled snugly in its arm wrap, hidden out of plain view by the long sleeves of their coat. The villain might be callous, but only towards those who had wronged them. All that cruelty on the surface masked a deeply hurt and aching soul within, with friendship and love being its only salvation.

 "This villain is smart, too smart. And evil. A threat to society what with the manifestation of their destructive powers that they have chosen to harm people with. For all you know, they might be catching onto our little plan. Or, they might even have a plan of their own."

 The hero tightened their arm around the villain subconsciously as the two strolled through the almost-empty streets. Just ahead lay the park, herded by a small forest of trees and the usual pond. This was where the hero had asked the villain out for the first time. It was where their mission had first failed, considering the fact that they weren't supposed to catch feelings for the villain at any point in time.

 "I hope you haven't gotten too attached to your subject. That simply won't do. You are supposed to kill them tonight before they have the chance to strike, do I make myself clear? And if you were to hesitate, think about who took you in when you were starving and injured on the streets."

 The villain tried to stem the amalgamation of emotions that flooded their soul as their superior's words echoed in their mind. It was true that the villain had been abused and maltreated just because their powers were seen as destructive. The villain had never wanted to hurt anyone in the first place. They had hurt the villain first, and as a form of self-defence, the villain hurt them back. Years of hatred and tears and insults, all jumbled together into a huge roiling ball of anger and violence and revenge, set on destroying those who had made the lives of villains a living hell for something that they could never control.

 "I hope you bear in mind that I do not take failure lightly. I shall be awaiting your success tonight."

 The hero groaned internally, a deep nagging sense of dread coiling deep in their stomach. The air in the park was cooler, supposedly because of the many trees clustered around the area they were currently walking in. It was quiet, with the ducks bobbing silently in the clear blue water, the flies buzzing near the heat of the streetlamps, the slight rustle of rodents searching for food in the undergrowth. Peace settled over the hero as they tugged the villain onto a bench, plopping down onto it and staring up at the night sky. They wouldn't do it.

 "If you want to show those heroes that we are not to be trifled with, then you will do as I see fit tonight."

 The villain gnawed on their lip nervously, fingers sliding inconspicuously towards the dagger tucked in their arm wrap. Guilt sank its claws deep into the recesses of their soul, images of their dying friend and lover running through their mind. No, no, they would not be responsible for another death.

 "Return before midnight."

 The villain's fingers had been dancing nervously along their arm, almost as if trying to satisfy an inner itch that they couldn't reach. The hero leaned over, taking both the villain's hands in theirs, letting a smile appear on their countenance. God, they were so deep in already. Yet they had a duty to fulfil.

 "Return before midnight."

 The villain started as the hero grabbed their hands, rubbing soothing circles over their knuckles. Looking at the smile gracing the hero's lips, the villain couldn't help but let their lips quirk up in a little grin of their own. This was all that they had ever wanted. Yet they had a duty to fulfil.

 When the hero let go of the villain's hands to tug them close for a kiss, the villain's fingers immediately slid to the arm wrap beneath their sleeve, gripping the handle of the knife and yanking it out in one smooth, practiced motion. The hand that was holding the knife was quivering badly, caught in limbo between wanting to slide itself back into its sheath or plunge its blade right into the hero's body. A single tear slid out of their eye and curved a path down their cheek.

 As the villain released the knife, a sharp pain in their side made them yank away from the hero, hand clutched to their lower abdomen. Red seeped through the white shirt and pooled between their fingers, dripping slowly onto their lap. Betrayal and anguish tore through the villain like a hurricane as they gasped out shaking breaths, fingers curled slightly around the knife embedded deep in their stomach.

 Guilt and regret was plastered all over the hero's face as they gently lowered the villain from the bench onto the ground. They were crying, too. These big fat tears that didn't look right on them.

 "I…I'm sorry…" The hero choked out, holding the villain tight in their grip, hands clutching fistfuls of their shirt and hair, trying desperately to hold onto every single part of them.

 The villain shook their head, wrenching out a choked laugh from their throat that morphed into a silent cry of pain. Yes, pain from the inflicted wound on their stomach, but also pain that stemmed from their supposed friend and lover's betrayal. "I c…couldn't ki-kill you, you know?"

 At that, the hero sobbed even harder, tugging the villain closer to them, mumbling apologies over and over again even though there was no turning back. They rocked there, on the spot, for what felt like eternity, feeling the villain's blood drip-drip-dripping onto the floor, seeping into their clothes. Their limp shudders, small but close enough to be felt. Their sharp intakes of air, the grunts and whimpers of pain left unspoken and tears. The tears were the worst.

 The villain had just one last ounce of strength left in their body before they departed for good. Their body felt so cold, so numb, bleeding out on the ground.

 "H…hero." They gasped, panting for their last breath of air. "Th-thank you f…for eve…rything. I l-love you."

 And then, the villain was gone.

 The hero broke.

[the-lady-writes-what]

25. Tamaki Amajiki

          Theme: Lake monster

          Kinks: Outdoor sex, lake sex, A/B/O, biting, marking, breeding, tetraphilia

Masterlist

Signs around the lake said, No Fishing and No Swimming. There didn’t seem to be much rhyme or reason behind it. There were no predators in a freshwater lake unless snapping turtles count. There was no nuclear run-off seeping into the lakebed; if so, why keep the surrounding area open? You snuck away from your friend group camping on the other side of the trees. You could still make out the glowing campfire and hear their laughter. You could always turn back.           

That would have been the smart thing to do if you weren’t so damned curious. Nobody would tell you anything except an old urban legend about a creature who lived at the bottom of the lake. You probably bet somebody owned the lake and didn’t want anyone to use it. There was a streak of ‘just not giving a fuck about rich people’ in you. The fact that someone dared to keep a beautiful lake to themselves and let it sit there was a shameful waste. And you were about to break all those rules posted on the signs stamped around the lake’s shore.           

You crept closer in the dark, armed with nothing but your flashlight. The lake was calling you like a siren. You saw it illuminated by the full moon, a clear crystal lake with nothing to disturb its surface. An island sprouted in the lake’s middle, covered in moss, vines, and a small tree on top of what looked like a cave. You smiled to yourself and thought of nothing better to do than race to that little island. Maybe there you’d find out why the lake was forbidden. On the shore, you left your flashlight on to serve as a miniature lighthouse for when you wanted to leave the water. You took off your sweatshirt, shorts, and soon everything else. Guessing by the position of the moon, you reckoned it to be just past midnight or close to it. Nobody would see you skinny-dipping.           

You stifled a squeal when your feet hit the water. The lake was cold, and it sent a ripple of goosebumps over your skin. You crept in a bit further until the water came up to your knees. You stood there naked as the day you were born as you waited for your body to get used to the temperature. Soon, you were going deeper and deeper then you were forced to swim. You paddled through the water, still unsure of what you should be looking out for. Rumors said that the thing that lived at the bottom of the lake was a fish-man, a science experiment gone horribly wrong. It would cut your skin to taste your blood in the water, then it would decide whether or not to eat you. You couldn’t help but think about what happened if the lake monster chose not to eat a hapless swimmer. What did it do with those it decided not to drag down and gobble up?        

You laughed at such a silly thought. ‘Really? Lake monsters?’

         You swam out to almost halfway when you felt a shift in the water. You kicked your legs and felt nothing. It almost seemed like something had swum past you. You swam a little further ahead. It was probably just a spooked fish. Continuing, you got about halfway to the little island in the middle of the lake when you felt the same shift in the water. You stopped for a moment.           

“That’s not funny! Whoever it is, better show themselves.”           

Something had swum a bit closer this time. You felt the shifting water ripple against you. This was much bigger than a trout. You froze. You turned around in every direction, hoping to see someone from your camp swim towards you with a grin on their face. The lake was quiet and calm except for the distant frogs and cicadas.           

“Come on, guys! This really isn’t funny. Why don’t you—”           

You were silenced by a sharp, stinging pain in your arm. You dragged it out of the water. Your eyes bulged at the streak of blood running down your arm. The blood trickled down back into the lake for a predator to smell it. There was no rationality this time. All you could think about was the urban legend of how the lake monster cut swimmers to make sure their blood tasted good. You squinted into the darkness and found the dim light of our flashlight in the distance. You didn’t need any convincing to start swimming back to the shore.           

Water surged around you as you booked it. You kicked your legs as fast as they could go. Muscles screamed at you, but you must keep swimming. The water shifted next to and beneath you. You paddled harder despite cramps forming in the back of your legs and in your shoulder. Another ripple effect hit you like a load of bricks. Something—whatever it was—that swam in the lake with you was ‘much’ bigger than any trout.           

You’d almost reached wading distance when a pair of cold, clammy hands grabbed your ankle. Your screams were muffled by the water, nearly forced into your lungs. You were seized and dragged towards the island. You kicked your feet only to meet hard yet slimy muscle. You grasped only at the water that surged between your fingers—white foam formed around your eyes before you blacked out of fear.           

When you realized that someone was carrying you, you almost sighed with relief. ‘Almost’ being the operative word here. You would have been relieved if not for the fact that as your senses awakened one by one, you realized too late that the person carrying you had wet, slimy skin like a frog and webbed fingers. The moment you woke up, you fought tooth and nail. Your fingers did little damage as they couldn’t find a purchase. The creature’s skin was so thick and slick that you couldn’t dig your nails in though you tried your damnedest.           

A cavern ceiling loomed over you, blocking out the stars and moon. The creature’s skin began to glow with bio-luminescence. Water splashed around his knees, and you were once again in the lake. The cavern had little ground to speak of, and most of its surface was a lagoon of sorts in the middle of the lake. Strong hands lowered you into the water, where shivers shook up and down your spine. They pushed you towards a boulder crudely shaped into a seat, cushioned with heaps of moss and tattered sails. You tried pushing it away, but its arms were too strong.           

Its hand wrapped around your forearms and forced you down. The boulder had been carved less like a chair and more like a half-reclining bed. Your legs dangled over the edge and sank into the water. The creature planted itself between your legs. Thick muscles pried your legs apart with no effort exerted. You punched, clawed, and kicked. Claws ran down your thighs in a sharp warning. You froze while the blood in your veins quickened. Then, the creature began to speak. It had a voice like a human’s, which made it all the more surreal and horrifying.           

“Just…lay back. Be a good Omega, and accept your position. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have to use force if you’d behave.”           

“O-Omega? What the fuck is an omega?”           

It didn’t answer. At least, not with words. Cold lips kissed your inner thighs before shark teeth clamped down on your flesh. Its hands grabbed hold of yours and pinned them down against the wet stone. Lips and teeth left ghastly bruises along your legs leading up towards your quim. A forked tongue slid up against your folds and coated it with a shiver-induced lubricant.           

“Your blood tasted so good that I couldn’t help myself. It gets so lonely out here,” said the creature.           

It rose a bit out of the water. In the faint outline of its bio-luminescent skin, you made out the shape of its….           

“No, no, no! You are ‘not’ putting that inside of me! It won’t fit.”           

“It will,” the creature grunted.           

The blunt head of its cock pressed against your folds; little by little, the lube allowed it more access into your small cunt. It was like having an iron rod covered in velvet slide into your folds. Your nails dug into the mossy spread as you were forcibly spread open. The creature’s hips rocked into you, pulling and pushing his member while trying to make your body accept it. The beast growled as it bottomed out.           

“It’s in. It’s all the way in. You’re doing so well. You’re going to be such a good mate, won’t you?” The creature’s words ran off his tongue like poison in your ears.           

You couldn’t respond; didn’t have time to. The creature already wrapping one hand on your hip and the other on your throat to keep you in place. Its powerful thrusts bounced you on its smooth cock. The creature had no control over its own strength. Otherwise, it would have realized how much pain it caused you whenever it snapped its hips into yours. You cried out while you were filled with a monstrous cock, which made your body tremble, and your insides squeeze down on it. The invasion was painful, but much to your horror; it gave way to something else. Something you never expected and never wanted in the first place.            

Your cunt grew slick with each thrust. You felt your own juices mixing with the creature’s natural lubricant. The inner walls of your cunt fluttered and expanded to make room. Your head fell back against a mass of sails and moss. Your moans and cries bounced off the cavern walls. A small part of your primitive brain shouted louder and louder.            

More, more, more!

The creature’s hand fell away from your throat.           

“What was that?” It hadn’t paused its thrusting inside you to ask a question.           

Blood drained from your face. That primitive brain wasn’t shouting; you were.           

“Please, give me more!” You hoped that in your desperation that you hoped that the creature would finish soon and not prolong this much longer.           

Webbed hands grabbed your hips and pulled your lower body off the boulder. Your back lack against the moss while you watched your legs be spread open to the point of aching and your cunt speared through. All your moaning accomplished was to have the creature spare no further mercy on your abused nethers. The creature worked faster and harder to give you what you desired.           

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head while you listened to the harsh cant of the creature’s skin slapping against yours and its cock penetrating deep.           

“Such a good, well-b-behaved, Omega. Take all of my seed. I’m going to, I’m going to nestle deep inside. Make you nice and warm down there…”           

You spasmed around him, gushing around his cock. It made it easier for him to push deeper inside your body and brush against your cervix. With a few more thrusts, the creature spilled himself in your walls. His teeth were on your neck and bit down, but this didn’t stifle any of his moans. The creature pumped his hips into you. He kept coming and coming again, letting a lot of it dribble out of your punished hole and mix with the water.           

You felt him deep inside. Warmth spread over your lower belly and then your body. Blood trickled off your shoulder as it ran down your skin. It felt like an eternity before it finished. It stayed that way with its cock buried in your cunt. Slowly, it removed its teeth from your aching shoulder. Its forked tongue ran along the wound with all the delicacy of a cat cleaning off one of her kittens.           

“Omega?” Said the creature.           

You were shaken out of your daze long enough to look the creature in the eye. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and you could make out more of its features. It had a smooth, angular face with pointed ears and a mop of dark, slicked-back hair.           

“You can call me Tamaki, your mate. What do I call you?”

[shaydeoffical]

Glass Slipper Malfunctions: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Summary: Y/n's Halloween Costume Breaks at a party, and they call their best friend to come help them. Thing's don't go as they planned, and now there's something more than friendship brewing. 

Author’s Note: This is part of a collaborative hosted by @pluviophile-imagines for the fall season. I was so happy to be a part of this amazing collection of works. Please go check out the other’s!!! 

Warnings: Mentions of fake blood, riding in a car.

Words: 2.4k

Sweater Weather Collab

Glass Slipper Malfunctions

"(Y/n), if you swirl that cup any faster, there'll be no punch left." Toga flicked my forehead. We were on the second floor of Dabi's house. His father was out of town, and he decided to go all out for Halloween. Smoke machines led lights, streamers, and even some graffiti over the fireplace, no corner was lacking a spooky decoration.

"I'm sorry, I just wish Shinso hadn't bailed", I admitted, downing what was left in the solo cup. Music was blaring all across the house, but I could tell she heard me when her smile faltered.

"You don't need him (Y/n), he's holding you back from having fun. He's always so serious and grumpy." Her costume was a bloody nurse, with rips in tears in all the right places. Leaning into me, she used her stethoscope to listen to my chest, tapping the instrument to the rhythm. "Yup, your heart's working just fine. Don't look so upset, come on, let's dance."

"Toga, don't pull so hard." I dragged my heels behind her, barely keeping up with her pace. Knocking people out of our way, she took the stairs two at a time.

We had been dancing for the last two hours, and I was already low on stamina and bloated from the punch. While running, I tossed my cup into the overflowing trash, missing it by a good few feet. As if my luck could get any worse, the liquid soaked into the floor. Dabi was okay ruining his family home, but I wasn't.

"If you don't smile, I'm going to do something drastic." Toga spun me around and dipped me as the music dropped. Alcohol, sweat, and a faint hint of blood filled the air, making my stomach begin to churn even more.

"I feel kind of woozy," I clutched to her shoulder, but she continued to swirl around the room and rock us back and forth.

"Everybody, gather round! Midnight is almost upon! I'm glad you-" Dabi got everyone's attention, drawing in a crowd around him.

"Come on, you're not being very fun." Toga ignored Dabi, and we moved to the back of the crowd. Still moving to the music, she let me go mild spin. I fell back, my heel snapped as I tried to catch myself. My dress caught on my other shot, ripping the strap holding it up. Landing on my ass, I pushed the hair from my face. My ribbon was lost in the crowd. In a moment of realization, I covered my chest, trying to get to my feet. With my dress pulled back up, no one had seen my trip; I just needed to get fixed back up.

"Toga, I-"She was gone. Clutching my thin paper costume between my hands, I kicked off my shoes, darting through the crowd to the bathroom. I had never been so thankful for a speech, fog machine, and laser lights in my entire life.  

Making it to the bathroom, I locked the door and looked in the mirror. My makeup had slid out of place, my hair was a tangled mess from the bun I initially had it in. The 'glass', slippers were now scuffed, and one heel was missing. My dress straps had broke beyond repair, and I was in desperate need of a backup costume.

Sitting on the toilet, I pulled out my phone, zoning in on my lock screen. It was Shinso holding up his kitten. I could see his head just poking into the frame. His dazzling smile causing one to spread on my own face. I don't know how I got to be in this bathroom to start with.

Everything had been planned down to a T. Shinso, and I would dress as Cinderella and Lucifer for the party. We'd get in the horse-drawn carriage I rented, at eight, and then arrive at the party by eight-thirty. Shinso would find a nice corner to sit and read, while I danced the night away looking for my Princess Charming. Toga and I would drink it up and bask in the full moon. At the end of the party, Shinso would be our D.D and take us home in Toga's car. It was simple enough. Thinking back, I didn't really take into consideration how Shinso felt about it. Well, I kind of knew how he would felt about being Lucifer instead of Prince Charming, but I thought he'd be okay with it. Then there was the other issue...

It wasn't a secrete he didn't like my new friend Toga. He tried to keep that opinion to himself, but it all spilled out last week. I knew changing our Halloween ritual from watching movies to a party with strangers would upset him. I just thought he'd go along with it for me. Or maybe I hoped he'd go along with it. I wanted to respect his boundaries, but he and Toga were so jealous of each other that it was hard to see either of them.

If there was one thing that clear now, Toga was willing to leave me for the wolfs. Pulling up Shinso's contact, I knew I was going to need to grovel a little. He was already waiting to be my D.D, but I needed a little something else now.

Y/n: Heyyyy, I need some help.

Fuzz Ball: Are you okay? I'm on my way

Y/n: I'm fine. My costume broke and I'm stuck in the bathroom.

Fuzz Ball: Can't Toga help you?

Y/n: She sort of, ran off and I'm… I don't know. I'm confused, I can't go back out there like this and I feel really guilty about ditching you.

Fuzz Ball: You are allowed to hang with your other friends without feeling guilty,

Y/n: I know, but I hate that you two don't like each other. I shouldn't have invited you and upset you.

Fuzz Ball: I'm not upset, I was sad. But I agree to be D.D, I shouldn't have back out last minute.

Fuzz Ball: I'll be there, I have a plan.

Y/n: What did I do to deserve you?

Fuzz Ball: You offered to do my history assignment in exchange for me doing your math.

Y/n: Right, seems like a fair trade. Also, don't you dare text and drive.

Fuzz Ball: I'm using the text to speech feature, I'm almost there.

Y/n: Someone's knocking on the door, ahhh. I'm on the first floor and to the right. There's a little hallway, and that's where the bathroom is.

Sinking back onto the commode, I relaxed my shoulders. Shinso was on his way to rescue me. I guess between my two friends, Shinso was the loyal one. Toga did seem flighty, but tonight was ridiculous. She had to see me fall and just walk away...that was an issue for another time.

At least I got all the dancing and drinking done that I wanted too. It was time to go home and convince Shinso to put on some scary movies and call it even.

There was a steady knock on the door, a familiar pattern that Shinso always used when sneaking to my window late a night. I flung the door open, and he dove into the room, carrying an orange trash bag filled with something. His black cat ears were perched on his head, a long fluffy tail wrapped around his waist. So much for us matching now.

"I love you, man," I hugged him tight, unsteady on my feet. He steadied me, and returned my bear hug.

"Thank me later, let's get out of here. There's so much weed in the air, I won't be able to pass a breathalyzer if we don't haul ass." He handed me the bag and pulled flip flops from his back pocket.

"You're telling me. I sobered up after tripping, but it's been a wild night., Anyway, I'm really eternally grateful- Shinso, why are there leaves in this trash bag?"

"It is a costume party, right? I thought you'd want to blend in." He wiggled his brow, the obscene cat makeup adding to his smug idea.

"I take back what I said about loving you." Laughing, I ripped two holes in the bottom of the bag and stepped in. Getting it to my neck, Shinso tied it, and I poked my arms out, the leaves itching my skin. "It works.

"You look cute." He smoothed my hair before opening the door. A line had formed, and we received death glares from the party-goers that were making some assumptions. "Let's get out of here."

"Well, I guess the carriage does turn back into a pumpkin at the end of the night, it's fitting." I sighed; the party was still in full swing. Shinso didn't let go of my hand as he parted the sea of people. My legs crunching the leaves as we walked. No doubt, I was leaving a leaf sprinkle trail in my wake.

"Is that a costume change I see?" Toga caught the other end of my hand. Her friend Twice was right behind her, carrying their drinks.

"I'm glad I ran into you. I'm headed home early. Can you find a D.D?" I asked her, the music-making my ears throb. Through the changing lights, I saw her grip her chin before smiling.

"I can just crash here. And be careful with Mr. Grumpy pants." She leaned around me to lock eyes with Shinso. "Aww, is the kitty cat upset?" She clawed at the air before turning tail to move along.

"She took it better than I thought." He sighed, finally reaching the door.

The cold air wrapped around my legs, sending a chill up my spine. The moon illuminated the street, and all the children had returned home to get a sugar high before bed. If music wasn't spilling out of the house, like a heartbeat in my ears. Shinso's car was in the middle of the street, emergency lights flashing, and the door still agape.

"You really rushed in like my knight in shining armor." Getting in the passenger side, I hugged my bag close as Shinso shut the door. He walked around the front and got in, turning off the emergency lights.

"Why can't I be your Prince Charming?" He took off down the road to my rental house. I hadn't been living on my own for long, but he already knew the road by heart. Even I still had to use my GPS. "Cat got your tongue?"  

"No, yet." I giggled, focusing on his lips. Swallowing hard, tension began to build between us. We both an impeccable communication skills, but there was something neither one of us was willing to outright say.

"Is someone being a bad pumpkin tonight?" He shook the bag, and I smacked his hand away. His smile was enough to make my heart race.  

"Yea, I guess I am a bad pumpkin." I leaned into my knees, trusting Shinso not to break so fast I bump my head.

"You can cry if you need too. Teasing you is one of my favorite past times, but I know you're upset."

"I know you like me." I pushed my hair back. "And the reason I didn't let you dress as Prince Charming is… I don't know. When I was at that party, I just kept thinking about us watching horror movies and eating way too much caramel popcorn. How we'd fall asleep next to year other and wake up for a mid-afternoon bike ride through the town before everyone takes down their decorations. And we can still do one half of that tradition if I avoid a hanger over."

"You didn't want me to be your prince charming because we have basically been dating the past two years, without ever getting into the physical side?" He pulled onto a back road and stopped at a spot that had the perfect view of the moon.

"I knew what you were hinting at when you asked to be Prince Charming. But I was afraid I didn't understand your hint, and then I was afraid someone would ask if we were dating and if you said no… I'd be sad. And it was a mess." I fiddled with the drawstring on the bag, not looking at him.

"I'll just say it. I like you, I like spending time with you. We've been friends for half of our lives, but I know we've had something special going on for a while now. I was afraid to ruin what we had, but I can't play it safe anymore. (Y/n) please look at me." I raised my eyes, his hand cupping my chin. "There's a few more hours left before the sun comes up. How about we go home, watch some movies and make out?" My skin heated up, blood rushing to my brain to keep it in operation.

"Bold of you to assume I don't want a kiss right now." I shifted to face him, a leaf ticking my side.

"I'm sorry, your majesty." He leaned forward, our lips latching onto each other like magnets. A wolf hollowed in the distance, and a cloud pasted at just the right time to illuminate the car. I took fistfuls of his black shirt and held him close. It was slow at first, but it heated up as I inched over the car console. We separated for breath, and I settled into my seat.

"Don't be sorry." I giggled, sitting back in my seat and wiping the black lipstick from my mouth. "Why'd we wait so long?"

"I don't know. But I regret it." He reversed from our spot on the hill and got back on the main road. "Let's get home and makeup time."

"So in the end, the winning combination is a broken plastic shoe, Lucifer, and a magic pumpkin. You know, Prince Charming and Cinderella are so mainstream. This was the better outcome, anyway." I kicked my swollen feet on his dash. "But I could get used to 'Your Majesty"; it has a nice ring to it." I tickled under Hitoshi's chin, his stubble pricking my fingers.

"Out of everything I just said, that's what you're holding on to?" He pulled into my house.

"Yup." I popped the p, and got out. "Race to the couch, let's start with Coraline."

"As you wish." He shook his head, chasing after me anyway. It wasn't what I planned for, but I was happy. I guess having my costume break was the best possible outcome for the night. We curled up on the couch, and a sense of peace washed over me. Nothing had ever felt so right.  

[haloud]

two-body problem

Michael and Alex have been tiptoeing around their new relationship, afraid to break the ice if they step too far too soon, but what starts as a light game--Michael teasing Alex at the bar--turns into something far more.

A malex getting-back-together fic. [rated e]

read on ao3

-

Alex wrapped his lips around the neck of his beer bottle and took a furious swig.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Maria said, slamming two new bottles down in front of him. “I thought you guys were done avoiding each other! Take these over to him already, stop moping all over my nice clean bar.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” Alex protested, only to be silenced by a withering look.

“You’ve been sitting here for over an hour watching him throw himself all over the pool tables trying to get your attention. Either you’re making him wait on purpose, or you’re completely clueless. Either way, I’m putting myself out of your misery.”

“He isn’t—”

“Oh my God, Alex Manes, not only do I have intimate knowledge of Guerin’s flirting tactics, but I am literally psychic. Go!”

The Pony’s dim yellow lights, half halogen half neon, gave the bar a smoky quality, a twilit mystique that swirled and eddied with Michael’s movements. To any other bystander, he may not have been the center of the room, the center of light, the single solid point around which the cosmic symphony pivoted, but to Alex he was all those things and more, and also the bastard who’d spent the better part of two hours draping himself over flat surfaces in soft, well-worn jeans and a t-shirt that kept riding up, smirking at everyone he talked to, running his fingers around the edge of his glass and licking condensation off his thumb.

Bastard.

Alex stalked away from the bar and around the perimeter, staying out of Michael’s line of sight as he lined up his next shot and let it go with the satisfying clack of billiard balls together. He wasn’t wearing his hat, sparing Alex that much of his infuriating cowboy magnetism, but that only meant he had full view of those curls. For the hundredth time that night, Alex raked his eyes over Michael’s body, from his wild hair to the broad shoulders beneath his jacket to the curve of his ass in his old, well-worn jeans—there was a fraying hole right in the crease of his thigh, worn all the way through so the white of his back pocket poked out a little—down his long legs to his boots.

As he watched, Michael stuck his ass out on his next shot, tongue fixed between his teeth. Clack, and then Michael straightened up again, glanced over his shoulder to the bar…then slumped like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Looking for someone?” Alex said, stepping up onto the dais.

Michael whipped around, head and chest pointing Alex’s way faster than his feet could keep up.

“Alex!”

“Well, you found him. Did you…need something?”

Alex dragged his eyes the length of Michael’s body yet again, taking his time, letting Michael feel eyes on him: the thing he’s been baying for so loud and needy all night. And Michael goes still under Alex’s watchful eye, only leaning back against the pool table to give Alex more to look at.

The suggestion is that Alex could step forward, slot a thigh in between Michael’s legs, lean past him to take the cue and take a shot of his own. His heartbeat would pound through his shirt when Alex’s chest pressed to his chest. His hair would tickle Alex’s cheek; his breath would be hot and gentle and quick on Alex’s ear.

“Well?” Alex prompted, leaning away instead, quirking an eyebrow and tilting his head.

“Uh-h, uh…”

He could drag this out. Make Michael squirm the way Alex has been squirming since he dropped in to say hi to Maria and get a drink. But Michael was entirely a tomcat who didn’t know what to do with a bird once he caught it, and his cheeks flushed pink so prettily already, and Alex was tired of waiting.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

There was no need to check behind him to see if Michael was following; his feet clomped clumsy and eager after Alex, close enough to his back to feel the heat radiating from him. They stumbled out into the parking lot, Alex dragging Michael, hand clamped around his wrist, Michael leaning and letting himself be dragged, laughing all the while, a double-ended physical pull on the both of them.

Across the gravel lot, past the pools of streetlight, Michael’s warm body pressed him into the cold metal of his car with a desperation that Alex could only echo back to him, yanking him in as close as possible with grasping hands on his belt, in his jacket pockets; he gasped when his cold fingers hit the bathwater-hot skin of Michael’s neck, scrabbling up into his hair to twist and tug and cling as they kiss. In the midnight cold, he was so hot, scalding every time Alex’s tongue dipped inside his welcoming mouth, branding everywhere their skin touched.

“Unhh-“

Their hips ground together, pushing groans from each of their mouths into the other. Michael had been teasing Alex for hours, but he was the one hard and aching behind his zipper. Alex shoved his hand down between them to rub at the bulge in his jeans

Soaking in him in sips like this wasn’t enough. Alex needed to bathe in him, to breathe him in like steam, to drown.

He tightened his grip on Michael’s hair to pull him back and away from his neck and gasped, “Let’s get out of here.”

Michael scrambled to agree, hauling himself into Alex’s SUV as soon as he pushed off from the door and hurried around to the drivers’ seat, catching Alex’s keys with his TK when he dropped them. By the time they had the car started and Alex peeled out of the parking lot, both of them were cracking up with laughter.

A zipper buzzed from the passenger seat, making Alex jerk his head away from the road for just a second, just long enough to see Michael take his dick in hand and give it a stroke, hissing as the freezing air hit his overheated, sensitive skin.

“What are you doing?” Alex demanded, grabbing his own crotch to relieve the pressure.

“I’ve been aching for hours, I just need…”

“And whose fault is that?”

Michael whined, and Alex whipped a glance at him again long enough to register his eyes going even more blown and black.

Alex seized the moment. “You can hold yourself, but you don’t get to jerk off until I’ve got you where I want you.”

“Aye aye, Captain…”

As strangled as his voice sounded, when they stopped at a light and Alex chanced another look, Michael had his eyes closed, head tipped back in the golden shaft of a streetlight, broad hand gripping his cock, thighs tense but body loose and lax against the seat. In the bare light, his mouth was red and swollen, and his breath steamed the window in even curls as he controlled his breathing.

His zipper buzzed again when they hit Alex’s driveway, and he was out of the car and heading for the door before Alex had the car off. He followed at a more leisurely pace.

They were on his turf now. Michael could claw at the door all he wanted, but he wouldn’t get inside until Alex let him. He’d do whatever Alex wanted—and right now, Alex wanted to kiss him again, walking forward until he couldn’t anymore, Michael’s body trapped against the door, legs falling open as wide and slack as they could and keep him standing.

Once upon a time, Alex wouldn’t have trusted Michael’s trust in him, would have doubted it or doubted himself and turned it away no matter how much Michael twisted and turned and begged. Those days—weren’t past, entirely, everything was a work in progress, but—

“Open the door. With your powers,” Alex said, biting and sucking his way across Michael’s neck.

He dug his fingers into Michael’s ass to hold him steady, bending him back when the door swung open, Michael’s fingers clinging helplessly to the front of Alex’s shirt, soft, hitching cries muffled into his shoulder. Alex nipped sharply at his ear to scold him for the hiding, kneading his ass roughly—Michael’s back bowed to press their bodies together, one of his legs hooked around the back of Alex’s, entwining them—one of Alex’s fingers caught the hole in his jeans, and he slid it inside, hit skin, dug his nail in, and even through two layers of denim felt Michael’s cock twitch at that one bright point of pain.

“Inside,” Alex panted. “Bedroom, now.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Alex didn’t bother turning any lights on until Michael was in his bed and underneath him and he jerked at the lamp-pull to light him up. He was even more gorgeous close-up than he was across a crowded bar; even more gorgeous when Alex had him all to himself than when he was in public, out of reach. Alex shucked off his own jacket and undershirt before attacking Michael’s jacket—and froze when he had it open and recognized what Michael was wearing.

“Is this…my shirt?”

The yellow-and-navy plaid—he hadn’t seen it in a while and figured it was lost in the back of a drawer somewhere. But here it was, on Michael’s body, and Alex—

“Yep.” Michael popped his lips at the word and chased it with a hazy grin. “Don’t know if I can pull it off like you can—” he slid one hand up Alex’s stomach to his chest, and Alex caught it in his own, pressing it against his skin.  “—But what do you think?”

With his other hand, Alex toyed with one of the buttons, all the desperate heat fallen away, nothing but gentle adoration left in its place. It was too easy to imagine the shirt dropped or flung away, fallen down between Michael’s bed and the wall, left and forgotten until Michael fished it out and kept it, wore it.

It was an unforgivably lonely thought. Even if Michael only meant to tease now.

Alex lifted his hand up to his mouth to kiss his fingers, lingering over once-broken knuckles, then cupped it against his cheek and leaned into it, his favorite feeling in the world, those hands so rough but so gentle against his skin. Michael’s face was as impossibly soft as Alex felt.

“I think,” Alex said, “You should take your pants off.”

Michael obeyed quick and easy, popping open his button and fly and shoving his pants down one-handed, but he couldn’t get them all the way off with Alex pinning down his thighs. His cock was still half-hard and bobbed forward, and he gave himself a couple strokes. God, he was a sight. Tousled hair bronzing the pillow, red kiss marks decorating his skin, naked except for Alex’s shirt, cock red and aching, and for the first time it really sank in that all night Michael had been strutting around commando, peacocking for Alex’s pleasure.

Still one-handed, Michael plucked open the buttons of his shirt, but when he lifted his shoulders to shrug it off, Alex let go of his other hand to use both his own to press him back down.

“Leave it on.”

Alex flicked the halves of his shirt open and just drank in the sight of him for a moment before stroking both hands down from his collarbones, over his nipples, over the planes of strong muscle to grip his hips.

“You put on quite the show for me tonight. Do you think you have to work that hard to get my attention?”

“Just wanna give a satisfactory performance,” Michael purred, shimmying his hips as if testing how far Alex would let him go.

To stop his squirming, Alex jerked him closer, hard. He slid across the sheets and between Alex’s legs, shirt rucking up behind his back; Alex raked his nails across his treasure trail—Ah!—and said, “You don’t ever have to perform for me.”

“I—”

“Never.”

Michael’s eyes, wet and gold and dilated-black, looked up at him through clumped-up lashes, under a furrowed brow, and his mouth popped open, then shut again. In place of a response, he arched his hips up to grind against Alex’s still-clothed groin, biting his lip in a way that just begged for more.

And Alex would give it to him.

He swung off straddling Michael to stretch out beside him instead, taking pressure off his knee, then hauled Michael’s leg over his own hip and knocked his hand away from his dick to replace it with his own. Face-to-face, Alex had to kiss him again, licking over his bottom lip, their mouths moving together for long moments before they fell apart again, Alex rolling his thumb over the tip of Michael’s cock and making him gasp.

“What do you need?” Alex rasped into the hot space between them. “What had you putting on a show tonight? What do you need from me?”

“I—I—”

“Anything.”

“Just—you. Everything. Whatever you’ll give me. It’s been…”

“Too long.”

“Y-yeah.”

Their relationship, fragile and new and older and stronger than bedrock, still moved in fits and starts, and they’d been more friends than not for the past few weeks as they tried to work this thing out between them. Too long. How long had it been? How did they make it so long, and why?

Frantic to make up for wasted time, Alex kissed him again, stroking his cock faster. “I need you too,” he gasped, words so simple, base, vital they tore out of him, and he released him on the upstroke to reach back to rub at his hole, see how far Michael wanted to go tonight—

“Michael.”

His fingers hit slick. Michael’s ass was wet with lube, hole slacked like he’d been fingering himself on and off all night—he’d need more, but Alex wanted to torture him with it, suddenly, spend all the remaining hours of the night working his fingers in and out of Michael’s body, slow and quick and hard and gentle until Michael was sobbing and coming dry.

“Wanted to be ready for you,” Michael said, grunting when Alex breached him with a fingertip, rolling his head against the pillow. Alex palmed the scruff of his neck, rubbing the tense muscle there. “I kinda thought I might get you to haul me off to the bathroom of the Pony. Stuff of wet dreams ‘n shit.” He gasped again, hips flexing forward and back like he was already getting fucked, even as Alex just traced the pad of his finger in a circle. “Or maybe I just liked it—open and ready for you in the middle of a crowd—you could just bend me over and mmmnnn…”

He dissolved into a moan as Alex pressed one finger in inch by inch, into his blazing-hot core.

“I like it too,” Alex said. “Fuck, Michael.”

It was hard to breathe, hard to think with the heat and smell of Michael all around him. Alex had no grace left in him as he tried to haul his own pants off; Michael might’ve helped with his powers a little bit, nearly whimpering with need for skin on skin. When he was naked, Alex took both their cocks in hand and stroked them together, devouring Michael’s mouth again and again until they dissolved into sloppy breathing, hearts pounding side-by-side, eyes open to watch each other.

“I want you to fuck me,” Michael blurted.

“Yeah? Good. Good, I want that too,” Alex said, rubbing Michael’s back, pressing them even closer together. “Get the lube out of the nightstand for me.”

He did, and Alex drizzled it over his fingers and reached back to rub at his hole again, two fingers this time, stretching and thrusting and fucking into him. Michael’s eyes finally slipped shut, mouth falling open, losing himself in the sensation, shuddering when Alex stroked his prostate, thighs trembling around Alex’s hips.

“Michael—”

“Ah—ah—ah—ah—”

“So good. You’re so good.”

They shifted together so Alex could line up and push inside him. The angle still wasn’t perfect—Alex rolled his hips and without better positioning or better leverage couldn’t manage more than shallow thrusts—but he wasn’t willing to move, wasn’t willing to be anything other than face-to-face, eyes locked on Michael in rapture, fluttering behind his eyelids, tongue between his teeth, every tiny shiver of muscle.

“What do you want?” Alex said. “Tell me more. Tell me everything. I want to hear it.”

Instinct bound them together from the start—instinct, gravity, with or without intention, the same force that held the stars in their positions in the heavens—but the words were something newer, a muscle that needed working, and all Alex wanted was to work. On this, toward something better.

“I want—I want—”

“That’s it.”

“I want to be yours,” Michael cried, the words clawing their way out of him and latching onto Alex, Michael curling his fingers into Alex’s skin, holding on so tight. “I want to stay here with you; I want you to keep me—”

Alex’s thrusts stuttered, rhythm of his hips broken like the rhythm of his heart, wild and uncontrollable. He wrapped a hand around the back of Michael’s neck again, squeezing tight, pulling him in, burying his face in his shoulder to whisper in his ear.

“I will. I promise you, I will.”

Michael’s voice cracked. “Alex…”

Curling around him, Alex didn’t answer and focused on fucking him, pumping pleasure through his body every way he knew how, Michael’s nails in his back, sweat curling at his temples. Alex brought him off with single-minded focus with his hands and mouth and cock, until Michael broke over his name again and came onto his stomach.

Michael’s muscles clenched around him when he pulled out, his nails tightening in his skin, too, his eyes still desperate when Alex flopped onto his back to breathe the cooler air above them, each exhale punctuated with a little laugh. It took a minute or two before Michael laughed with him.

“Fuck me,” Alex chuckled. He was still rock hard, but he just wrapped his hand around the base and ignored it for now, until he’d made sure Michael was okay.

“Uh, other way around,” Michael laughed, scooting closer to tangle their legs back together. Alex hadn’t even gotten his prosthetic off. More importantly, though, Alex reached for him, massaging his thighs as the aftershocks rolled through him, until the shaking stopped.

“Are you okay? We got a little more intense than I expected.”

Michael nodded, enough to assuage any actual fear Alex felt, but he didn’t elaborate. He rolled onto his back and lifted his knees to his chest and said, “Talk later. We’re not done yet.”

“If you’re too sensitive—”

“I’m not.” Michael reached for Alex’s cock, and Alex hissed when his calloused, warm hand closed around him. “I want you to fuck me. Use me. Come in me. I want you.”

Well-fucked and flushed, he was even more gorgeous than before, Alex’s shirt splayed open, hanging from his shoulders, his hole on display by his lifted hips, red and open and eager. Alex sat up, moved over him, bent to kiss it just to hear Michael yelp. The taste of lube was more than worth it for the high, babbling noises Michael made as Alex laved his tongue against that well-used skin.

Then Alex sat up and pulled Michael’s hips into his lap, legs falling open around him, and fucked back inside, thrusting hard and fast, splaying one hand out across Michael’s vulnerable stomach, pushing up to twist his nipples (--Ahn!--) until he had both hands curled around his shoulders, inches from where his lifeblood pumped in his bared throat.

Michael bit his lip, so “Let me hear you,” Alex gasped, kneading the sweat-slick muscle in his hands. And Michael did, opening his lips and throat on a throbbing whine, a sound of pure pleasure, pure sated need, that more than anything else, more than the tight, hot muscle gripping his cock, more than the beautiful, pliant enthusiasm Michael bled, had him coming deep in Michael’s body with a few more artless pumps of his hips.

When Alex pulled out a second time, Michael let out another groan, grasping for Alex’s hip like he could hold him still, hold him inside even a moment longer, but Alex laid out next to him again instead, cuddling him close, cupping his chin in both hands to kiss him.

Every line, every hair, every pore and freckle on Michael’s face was precious. Alex scattered kisses across his eyelids, across his cheeks and forehead. He had nowhere else to put the love too great to fit inside his body; there was nowhere else it belonged.

Minutes later, when they both could speak again, Alex repeated his earlier question. “Are you okay?”

With postcoital clarity, Alex twinged a bit with doubt at the marks he’d left all over the canvas of Michael’s body. Loving that fiercely, losing control when Michael gave up his own, freeing the thing in his chest he’d spent a lifetime starving and caging…it was new. And not something he’d expected out of tonight when Michael was just being playful at the bar trying to rile him up.

“Never better,” Michael rasped. His lidded eyes glittered every bit like they glittered in the sun in the back of his truck when they were seventeen and Michael made him feel like the only boy in the world who was loved.

“Yeah?”

Alex traced his fingers up and down the line of Michael’s spine. He needed to get a washcloth to clean Michael up, take care of him, but he wasn’t ready to move yet.

“Yeah.”

“It—I—wasn’t…too much?”

“Never.” Michael lifted himself up on one elbow so he could leverage himself even closer; he twined their fingers together and pulled Alex’s in. “I didn’t know the night would end like that either, but, hey, chemicals reacted, baby.”

Snorting at Michael’s sleazy smirk, Alex said, “Okay, dork.”

“You love me.”

And abruptly, Alex was serious again. “I do.”

At that, Michael hesitated, like Alex thought he might. His eyes dropped away to the vicinity of Alex’s chest.

So he repeated, “I do, Michael. So much.”

“I love you too.” His eyes flickered back up to Alex’s and away again.

“And you can trust me,” Alex blurted. “I know I haven’t always been trustworthy in the past—”

“Alex, no.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not torturing myself with it, I just…know. But I-I want to be worthy of the things you want from me. Please don’t be embarrassed for wanting them. Or for saying them out loud. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, actually.”

Michael finally relaxed as Alex babbled, and the visible release of tension from his shoulders loosened the knot in Alex’s chest, too.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Because—it’s all true. Every, uh, every humiliating bit of it.”

“It’s not—”

“Shh.” It was Michael’s turn to interrupt with the reassurance. “It’s kind of embarrassing to tell your not-quite boyfriend that you want to be kept.”

“It’s not. Not to me.”

Alex lowered his eyes, and he slid his hand from the back of Michael’s neck around to the front. Carefully, he watched his own thumb roll little circles against the apple of Michael’s throat, and as he watched he pushed down gently.

“There are so many ways I want to keep you,” he said. He felt Michael gasp, air passing under his touch to reach Michael’s lungs, oxygen to his veins. “You might not like all of them.”

“I would,” Michael spoke, the vibrations buzzing through Alex’s fingertips and up his arm. “I would. I do.”

His hand circled Alex’s wrist, a warm, loose manacle holding his hand steady, not pulling it away. Slowly, Alex fit all his fingers around Michael’s fragile throat, holding him in every vital inch, not squeezing, only applying the slightest pressure so Michael could feel him.

Michael’s head lolled back, weightless, giving all his trust over—it was as heady as the scent of rain and musk soaking off Michael’s skin—Alex drank it in and got drunk on it. Something out of Alex’s worst nightmares turned into something even more powerful in the gentleness it required. Only Michael made him feel like this; only Michael was himself and every hurt he’d ever felt living and shielding and loving outside his body, and vice versa. A binary system.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Alex said, raw. “I don’t want to be a not quite anything, anymore. I want us to figure this out together for real.”

He let up even the tiniest, barest pressure he’d exerted, but he left his hand where it was.

“Not quites are old news,” Michael agreed fervently. “Half-assess and past tense, too. I’m in if you’re in. All in.”

Alex nodded, even though they were so close together it made their foreheads tap, adding a silliness to the gesture that brought a smile to Michael’s face, and Alex fit his thumb into the line beside his mouth it created.

“I’m all in. No more sleeping apart. No more wondering if we should call or text. I never don’t want to hear from you.”

“No more second guessing or avoiding each other at the grocery store so it doesn’t get awkward.”

Alex winced at that, and at himself. “You noticed?”

“Your handsome face can’t hide behind a soda tower, babe.”

“Damn.”

Laughing, Michael said, “And more asking for what I want, no more trying to provoke you in our friend’s bar…”

“I don’t know…” Alex grabbed his ass hard enough to make him yelp. “Maybe we can give that one another go sometime.”

“If Maria doesn’t make my life a living hell laughing at me for it, that is.”

“Only then, for sure.”

Alex rolled Michael onto his back to kiss him again, pinning him to the bed, where they intended to keep each other for a very long time.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Come Over | Elijah Mikaelson

Hey Lovelies! This is my first post on this profile! If you're curious feel free to pop over to my other handle: @sweetpeasgirl where i write for riverdale! However this blog is for all fandoms! It's all very exciting and I am happy to take on a new project. Anyway this is my first time writing for Elijah/TVD/TO so I hope its good! Also my first smut oh no oh god. Lemme know what you think!

Description: Based on the song "Come Over" by Sam Hunt. Y/n finds out Elijah Mikaelson is a vampire in the worst way possible. She freaks out and runs. Elijah follows after. It comes to a crossroads at her apartment.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! NSFW, Smut (oral female receiving), 18+ (I feel obligated to say it ;) )

Word count: 3413

Tags: fluff, some angst, SMUT

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again

Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around

The clock on your nightstand reads 11:34. The remote control is heavy in your hand. Nothing on the TV is interesting to you even slightly right now. Your room is sweltering and dark. Your bed is a mess, the comforter crinkled and shoved to the foot. Messy beds are always more uncomfortable. Any day but today you would care.

You glance down at your phone, not surprised in the slightest to see another missed call. That makes 22. Almost a new record. Two more and he’ll start a new one. That’s just his type. Persistent. It’s why you fell in love with him. He didn’t give up. You sigh and block the call, placing the phone face down on the nightstand. Your whole body feels hot.

Clicking again on the remote, you come across a reality show. It's trashy, the accents are harsh, it screams “daddy’s money”. It’s perfect. Maybe it’ll be enough to take your mind off of the events of this evening. Off of him. The girl on the show runs into the arms of a handsome man. You turn the TV off almost as fast as you had turned it on.

You had been picturing tonight in your head for a week. The Mikaelson Ball. Dining and dancing and elegance. Nothing your usual life regularly allowed. It was supposed to be special. The invitation alone was magnificent enough to make you swoon. The dress had almost made you faint. The necklace did. It was all perfect. He was perfect. And then it wasn’t.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You forgot to turn it off. Or maybe you left it on purpose. Your head feels fuzzy, though, and you don’t want to think about it. You wish his face would get out of your mind. Your eyes drift to the fan above you and you try to count the blades as they go around and around. You lose track easily, and you don’t care. It doesn’t do anything to soothe your molten skin.

Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake

Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

You pick the phone up once more, ready to scream at it. Every part of you feels like it's on fire and seeing his name on the screen pushes you over the edge. You don’t know what you did to get tangled in all of this but you’re ready to claw your throat out. Instead, you throw the phone as hard as you can against the pile of comforters. It stops buzzing but your skin is still sticky. You feel sick to your stomach.

“Why did you pick me, why couldn’t it have been someone else,” your tone is harsh but it’s not like he can hear you, “it hurts Eli. Make it stop. Please!”

Your voice is barely a whisper and it turns to cries quickly as the anger dies out. All you can see, swirling around the depths of your mind, are his fangs. The way his brown eyes died to a blackness. The stark veins against his sculpted cheeks. He had looked every bit as beautiful as ever. Still elegant, still handsome. Still Elijah. But dark. Dangerous. That’s what scared you. Elijah was still Elijah when he was ripping a heart from a chest.

It felt like a blur when you saw it. One minute he had his hand on the small of your back. You had been taking a stroll in the garden. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Beautiful hedge walls and roses of all different colours and a magnolia tree like you had only ever imagined. The moon wasn’t quite full over your heads. He was finally about to kiss you, something you had been silently pleading for for months now. Before his lips could touch yours, though, there was a hand around your throat. It had squeezed to the point of you almost passing out before Elijah had time to rip you away from your attacker. You didn’t see him move, you just saw his hand break through the mans sternum and rip his beating heart out of his chest. As soon as you saw his face, his eyes, you bolted.

“I’m scared, Eli. I miss you. I’m scared that I miss you and a thousand other things. I need you.”

You look at the dress hanging on the back of your door. At one point it was a delicate, pale pink number. It had off the shoulder straps that, really, had no point but were beautiful. There was satin cream ribbon to lace up the back and the sweetest of sweetheart necklines. Now it was splattered in blood, the satin ribbons stained. One of the sleeves had ripped when you ran. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever owned and it was ruined in less than an hour. Fairytales were supposed to end at midnight, not nine o'clock.

“I wish you would come over.” You mean it.

You just want him to explain. To show up and sweep you off your feet and tell you that he won’t hurt you. You shouldn't even need the reassurance. You know him. That's your Elijah. Somewhere deep down you know that. But it's not making you any less afraid right now. He had been protecting you, but no one has ever ripped out a heart for you before. You’re allowed to be afraid of new things. You’re allowed to be afraid of things that are frightening. That’s what being human is. You still feel like a traitor, though, when you feel afraid of Elijah.

Your voice is silent in the darkness, “I wish you could hear me. Come over, Elijah.”

Your phone beeped. You pick it up in time to read the screen. Call ended.

I told you I wouldn't call, I told you I wouldn't care

But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere

Call ended. Call ended 12:43. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds. Elijah had been on the phone with you for almost thirteen minutes. Crap.

You think about how far away the Mikaelson mansion is from your apartment. Twenty minutes tops, and that’s your driving. Elijah’s driving? Ten, if you’re lucky. You could try to reason with yourself. Maybe he hadn't heard you. Maybe he doesn't want to see you. Maybe he hung up because he got tired of hearing you whine. You can’t help the dry laugh that falls from your lips. It’s Elijah. You probably only have five minutes now.

You jump to your feet and begin making your bed, your pulse thumping loud once more in your ears. He’s been in your apartment before, but that was when he was just Elijah. Not the Elijah with fangs and black eyes. Now he’s different. Mysterious. Who knows what he’s seen. What he’s done. You never thought your apparent was shabby by any means but would he? You know your life can’t compare to the wonders he’s most definitely seen.

You move to the kitchen, which is, by default, the living room as well, and begin picking up mugs and newspapers and anything else out of order that you can see. You sneak a quick glance out your kitchen window, into the parking lot below, just in time to see a sleek black car speed into one of the only available spots left. You can hear the engine purr from your fourth floor apartment. You know exactly whose car that is and thus aren't surprised when Elijah Mikaelson steps out from the drivers side and slams the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. You gasp at the bang the metal makes and his head whips up, his eyes locking with yours from the ground.

You close your eyes for just a second. There's no way he could have heard that. When you look back to the ground, he’s gone. Before you can sigh there's a knock at the door.

I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder

Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You move to the door but you don’t open it. You place your palm on the wood trim and try to picture the man on the other side. He’ll look like Elijah. He’ll smell like Elijah and probably talk like Elijah, too. But is he still the same Elijah?

“Y/n, I know you’re there, open the door. Please?” His voice sounds the same, his accent penetrating the barrier between you and tickling your ears.

“Elijah,” your voice is but a whisper and you know you should be the only one who can hear it, “I’m scared.”

“I know, love, that’s ok. I won’t hurt you, though, and I need you to open the door. I just- I need to see you,” his voice cracks, just barely but it’s there.

That’s all it takes for you to slide the lock and open the door. In front of you, for the second time tonight, is a man you don’t recognize. He doesn’t have fangs and his eyes are his usual deep brown but they look shattered. His hair, usually styled to perfection, is a mess, like he had been running his hands through it for the past few hours. His suit jacket is gone, leaving him in slacks and the dress shirt he had been wearing at the ball, only now it’s untucked and the sleeves are rolled haphazardly up his arms. Elijah Mikaleson looks disheveled and you’re terrified again because this Elijah, hurt and upset, looks further from himself than the Elijah from the garden.

“Eli-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice shakes as he stands in your doorway, “please let me explain, baby.”

You swallow at his words. Baby. That's new.

“Eli, you know you can come in whenever you want,” your eyes look to the ground, feigning interest in the knots of your hardwood floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” you can feel his eyes burning into your lowered head, “I need to hear that you want me to come in, Y/n.”

This time it’s your voice that breaks, “of course I want you to come in Elijah.”

He sighs and steps over the threshold, standing mere feet away from you. You feel so small next to him in nothing but a pair of plaid sleep shorts and plain tank top. Your bare feet, for the first time since getting home, are cool against the floor.

He reaches to touch you and you flinch away, “baby, god, no. Please don’t be afraid.”

Your chest aches at the scared look in his eyes and all you want to do is run into his arms but you need answers.

“What happened back there, Elijah?” You feel pathetic at how quiet your voice still is.

“He wanted to hurt me, torture me. And he knew he couldn't. So he went for you, because he knew I would retaliate,” his eyes land on yours and you can see that he still wants to rip that man limb from limb, “he was a werewolf, Y/n. He wanted you dead, I had to do it.”

He sinks to his knees, his voice dropping lower and lower until the last words are just whispers. His words ring in your ears again. Werewolf. A werewolf wanted you dead. You felt faint.

“Why was a,” you say the word carefully, “werewolf trying to hurt you?”

“Because I'm a vampire, Y/n,” his voice breaks fully this time.

You don’t know what to do. Not with the rapid beating of your heart nor the new information you’ve just acquired and especially not with the crying Mikaelson on his knees in your hallway. Your Elijah, the man who pulls your chair out at restaurants and opens your doors and always has a hand on you when you’re around his brothers, is a vampire. You’re not even sure what that means, there are so many questions running through your mind. You want to ask each and every one of them but, seeing the man in front of you, somehow now doesn’t feel like the right time.

Your heart flutters looking at Elijah. His hands are in his hair again, pulling desperately on the strands. Your heart falls into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight. How can you be afraid of someone being so openly vulnerable to you. No man has ever gotten on his knees for you. No one has ever begged on their knees for you. It’s breathtaking, all you need to push yourself into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You should be terrified of me y/n,” he chokes into your chest, “I’m not good for you. I'm a monster, baby.”

His words shred at your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, smoothing the soft locks beneath your fingers.

“No you’re not. You're still my Elijah.”

His head lifts from your chest and he captures your eyes with his serious ones. He looks awestruck.

“Your Elijah?” His accent is even thicker with all the emotion.

You smile for the first time in many hours, “of course, Eli.”

He sweeps you up and into his arms so quickly you get dizzy. Before you know what’s happened, he has you sat on your kitchen island and he’s standing between your legs. Your arms are still clinging tight to his neck while his hands hang dangerously low on your hips.

“And you’re mine, Y/n.”

His words makes your body sing, “All yours.”

He closes his eyes, his hands tightening deliciously on your hips, “say it again. Please, baby.”

“I’m yours Elijah. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash hungrily onto yours. He wraps his arms around your lower back and you tangle your legs around his waist to avoid falling off the countertop. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down harshly before soothing the sting with his tongue. You're enamoured with this side of Elijah. You’ve seen his gentleman side, it was magnificent, but this side of him? It was everything you didn't know you needed.

He pulls back, only putting a fraction of space between your bodies but it feels like too much, “please don’t run from me again.”

Your lips brush his when you speak, “Never, Eli.”

He pulls your mouth back to his, a hand tangled in your hair tugging gently at the roots. You can’t but moan against his lips and squeeze your legs around his waist. You grab blindly at his shirt, trying desperately to undo the buttons. Your fingers fumble and he chuckles into your mouth. He releases you to pull his shirt off, dropping it mindlessly on the floor, his lips never leaving yours.

His chest is sculpted like the finest marble and you can’t resist running your hands over his skin. He feels strong under your fingertips. He lets out a groan as you slide them back to his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His lips move over your jaw, down your neck, kissing and sucking a trail to your throat.

His hands grip the edge of your tank top bunching the material in his fists, “may I?”

Always the gentleman.

You nod your head before the words can leave your mouth, “please.”

He smirks, his eyes shining, as he begins pulling the tank top tantalizingly slow up your chest. You raise your arms over your head with his movements, lowering them back to his torso when he drops your shirt with his. His chocolate eyes meet yours again, seeking permission. You can’t fight the small smile as you nod. His smile that greets yours is breathtaking.

His eyes flick down, taking in your bare chest like a child in a candy store. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, much like he did to yours only moments ago. His hands slide up the curve of your waist, trailing a new kind of fire wherever he touches. His thumbs graze the sides of your breasts and you just barely stop the moan, closing your eyes to regain the little control you have left.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re stunning Y/n. Absolutely beautiful.”

Before you can process it, his mouth is around your breast, pulling your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. It sends a spark of electricity to the deepest part of your stomach, building an ache that you’ve felt before but stronger. Blinding. It’s white hot. You don’t try to stop the moans, you don’t want to. His tongue swirls around your breast, teasingly slow, making you feel every little movement. It’s dangerously addictive.

“Elijah,” you breath his name like oxygen.

His lips let you go, moving down your chest, trailing kisses down your abdomen, pulling praises from your lips as he goes. His eyes find yours when he sinks to his knees for the second time tonight. His hands grasp your shorts, covering your hips easily. You’re a wanton mess in front of him, practically fully undone from the simplest of touches.

“What do you want me to do, baby, you have to tell me what you want.” It's good to know he’s breathless too.

“Eli, I-” you moan as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking gently at the skin, his eyes still locked on yours, “I want you.”

He pulls his lips back, “you want me to do what, baby?”

You groan at the devilish smirk on his handsome face, “I want you to kiss me!”

“As you wish.”

He pulls your shorts off first, slowly dragging them down your legs, kissing all the way down and back up again. When you're left in nothing but your panties he presses the first kiss to you. It’s hot and sends shocks throughout your entire body.

“More, now. Please, Elijah.”

He chuckles but does as told, pulling the remaining material down your legs before hooking your legs over his muscular shoulders. He wastes no time attaching his lips to your sex, sucking delightfully. He swirls his tongue over your clit, stoking the fire building in your stomach. He drags his tongue down your slit for what feels like an eternity before he plunges into you. You throw your head back and close your eyes, mumbling praises into oblivion. You can feel his eyes on you, soaking up every inch of you.

Your hands find his hair again, not seeming to want to be apart from him, “god.”

“That's not my name, baby,” he mumbles against you, stopping his ministrations.

You open your eyes and lock them with his waiting ones, drawing his name out in your best attempt at being seductive, “Elijah.”

His eyes darken but this time you aren't scared. No, this time his eyes make him look dominant. Sexy. His tongue attacks your clit again only this time faster and hungrier. It makes the fire in your stomach white hot. He’s unrelenting, bringing you closer to the edge with every pass of his tongue. He's pouring everything he has into pleasuring you and you can feel it, literally. You squeeze your thighs around him tighter, ready to explode

“Come for me, baby.”

With that you fall into something you’ve heard about but never thought possible. All you can see, all you can feel, is Elijah. He consumes all of your senses as you fall apart, over and over again, under his touch. In the midst of falling apart you catch Elijah’s eyes and fall all over again. He looks like he’s in pure bliss watching you come undone because of him. You know in all your falling you murmur his name more than once. You know that he loves it.

As you come down from your high, you go to unwrap your legs from his neck, only to have him wrap you around his waist and pick you up. You can’t help but giggle at his determined look.

When he starts walking toward your bedroom you ask, “what’s on your mind, Eli?”

“Round two,” you giggle again when he kisses your forehead.

“I'm glad you came over, Elijah.”

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 9

Summary: y/n finally goes to a safe house and lo and behold, still isn’t safe. y/n, like thor, has no regard for lawn maintenance 

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma

Word Count: 3744

A/N: yes i did indulge more sleepy trope, you’re welcome, but there’s a lot of angst right before it

                                                        //////////

Happy was outside of the school with a car, waiting for me, when I got out of my last class. I had to finish my chem test during lunch, but that was fine, because it was sloppy joe’s that day, and I prefer to know the kind of meat I’m putting in my body. I talked to the rest of my teachers about being gone for the week, and with Mr. Morita backing me up, none of them put up a big fuss.

“Hey, Happy.”

“Ready to go?”

“You have my stuff, right?” He nodded. “Then I’m ready.”

“Woah, you're the guy who works for Spider-Man!” Eugene stopped beside me while he was walking to his own car and his jaw dropped to the floor. “Are you taking Y/N so she can be an Avenger?”

I slapped my hand over his mouth and slowly started heating it up. “Eugene?” He looked at me. “Shut up.” I took my hand off before I could do anything more than scare him, but he looked like he was ready to piss himself. “Remember how I turned into a lava monster in London and killed a lot of people?” I whispered. “Now someone is trying to kill me for it. So I’d appreciate it if you would keep all of this to yourself, okay?” He nodded, and I took my hand off his shoulder. He hurried away. “Let’s get out of here before anyone else recognizes you, Happy.”

“Happy? Y/N?”

“Hey, Pete,” Happy called over my shoulder.

He stopped beside me. “Are you going to the compound?”

“The detectives are insisting I go to a safe house, so we compromised.” I leaned close and whispered, “One of the detectives wants Spider-Man’s autograph. Think you can make that happen?”

“I’ll practice my cursive,” he whispered back with a smile. He pulled me into a hug and said, “Take care of yourself, Y/N. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“You too, Pete.” I threw my backpack into the back seat and sat beside Happy in the front, which took him by surprise, but he just started the car and drove away.

“So, you and Peter?”

I looked over at Happy and scowled. “Nothing’s happening, no matter what Sam says otherwise.”

He just shrugged. “Hey, I haven’t heard anything. I just see the way you two look at each other.”

Despite my best efforts to keep my heart under control, it jumped at his words and the butterflies started flapping around in my stomach. Could Happy read minds? The thought had crossed my mind before, but now more than ever I thought it was true.

“Like what?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Y/N, it’s just the look.” He glanced at me again, but I was actively avoiding eye contact. I knew if I did look at him I would just start crying, and I had avoided crying this whole time. But damn it, Happy was going to try. “You doing okay, kid?”

“Fucking peachy.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” He pulled off the road and into a five-minute parking spot, then turned and looked at me head on. “You can’t run away from this, Y/N. Try as you might, this is the real world, and it’s scaring the shit out of everyone. Why didn’t you come to Pepper after your mom disappeared?”

“I never thought to,” I admitted. “Sure, I hang out at the compound and get to pretend that I’m a superhero every other weekend, but I’ve known everyone for maybe two months? I — it just —“ I hung my head, the tears burning the corner of my eyes. “I’m just a kid, Happy. A kid that no one is especially attached to. I still had my dad, and I thought it could be handled.” I gestured at the car and him. “Clearly that isn’t the case.” I quickly wiped away the tears that had spilled over, hoping he didn’t see.

Well, he did. And he surprised me even more by pulling me across the center console into a quick hug. “You mean a lot more to everyone than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. Bucky nearly broke my arm for the keys because he wanted to be the one to pick you up. Pepper started calling private investigators the second you got off the phone last night and had FRIDAY checking cameras. Sam was ready to fly over all of Brooklyn to look for your dad. Don’t sell yourself short.” He pulled the car back onto the road and we slowly made our way to the compound, my chest a little less heavy.

Bucky practically dragged me out of the car and into a bone crushing hug the second Happy put it in park. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“It was a two hour drive, Bucky,” I said back. But I let myself completely relax in his arms. This was probably the safest I had felt in the last three days, and my body was feeling the difference. “Can we go inside?”

“‘Course.” He let go, but kept his metal arm wrapped around my shoulders. He grabbed one of my duffel bags and slowly walked with me into the compound. “Sam has a fat stack of pancakes waiting for you.”

An equally bone-crushing hug came from Captain America, and I almost broke down completely. “You’re okay, Y/N, we won’t let anything else happen to you.”

Anything else. God, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Because he knew what had already happened, but so help him if he wasn’t going to try and stop whatever happened next. “Thank you.”

“Come on, I got pancakes burning on the stove.”

Bucky put the rest of my stuff in my room, and the rest of the evening everyone watched movies and ate popcorn and tried to ignore the mounting terror that was growing in my throat.

It was around midnight when I walked into my own room, too tired to turn the light on. I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed, jeans and all, but I felt something wet and sticky when I laid down completely. This wouldn’t have been the first prank pulled between myself and the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, but this felt different.

“FRIDAY, turn the lights on.”

I almost threw up. The sheets of my bed were covered in blood. I could feel it seeping into my clothes and hair. Who the hell got into the compound? Who the hell knew I was coming?

I started screaming — a perfectly natural response to the situation — and Wanda burst into my room. Her eyes were gleaming red and her magic was dancing on her hands. “Y/N, what the hell?”

I sat up completely and tried (and failed) to keep my voice from quivering as I said, “Wanda, can you call nine-one-one and get the officer from the patrol car in here, please?” She ran away quickly, already shouting out to FRIDAY.

I had seen enough cop shows to know not to move, because even my hair became evidence the second I laid down. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Y/N, what the hell, Wanda just told us —“ Sam and Bucky came crashing in, but stopped short at the sight of me covered in blood.

“Can one of you grab my phone and call ‘Detective Peralta?’”

Sam stepped forward and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, this is Y/N Y/L/N’s phone. She has a couple things she wants to tell you.“ He put the call on speaker and held it close.

At this point, I was moving from my unbelievably-terrified phase to unbelievably-frantic phase. That didn’t make my urge to cry any less potent, but it at least helped me get through the next conversation. “Jake? Can I call you Jake? I feel like you’ve seen so much into my life in the last few days that I’ve earned the right to call you by your first name. Anyways, if you knew who you had just talked to on the phone you’d piss yourself. You’ll never —“

“Breathe, Y/N. Just shut up for a second and breathe.” I inhaled sharply, which was a bad call, because now all I could smell and taste was blood, which almost made me throw up all over again. “Okay, what did you call me about?”

“I’m laying in a pool of blood and I need you and the Nine-Nine to get here and do your fucking jobs because I’m freaking out.”

“Are you still at the safe house?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know where your patrol car officer is, but shouldn’t they be out here protecting me?” I would’ve kept chewing him and his precinct out, but Sam took the phone from my hand and gave Jake the ‘OK’ to come to the compound.

Wanda ran back with the officer behind her, both breathing heavy. “I brought. The officer.”

“About fucking time,” I muttered.

You’re acting like a bitch, Y/N.

Yeah, well, you unknowingly lay down in a pool of blood and tell me how pleasant you’re feeling afterward. ‘Frantic’ had left the building and ‘pissed as hell’ had taken full residence in my attitude. And the brunt of it was directed at the undeserving.

“Can you take some goddamn pictures already so I can get out of these clothes?”

“I, uh, should really wait for forensics.”

I groaned and looked at Bucky. “Do me a favor and give me something to throw.” He just stepped forward and held out his metal arm.

“How ‘bout something to hold onto.”

I ended up getting blood between the grooves of his plating, but Bucky assured me it was easy to clean. It took over an hour — even with all of their sirens — for the Nine-Nine to get to the compound, and another half hour on top of that for all of their pictures to be taken before I could shower and change clothes. Do you know how humiliating it is for a teenage girl to have to change and leave behind blood-soaked clothes for an entire forensics team to investigate and study? I hope you never have to know for yourself, because nothing made me want to claw my own eyes out and burn myself alive more than that.

I used Wanda’s shower, because her room was just across the hall, but I refused to sleep in a closed room anymore. I refused to even close my eyes, because it seemed that every time I blinked some other sort of shit hit the fan.

“Y/N?”

I was so fucking tired of hearing the sound of my own name.

“What’s the message this time, Jake?”

He didn’t bother sugar-coating it. He handed his phone over and I was too tired to stop the panic I felt in my throat as I looked at the barely-legible letters.

I will always find you.

“They are really milking this whole ‘five word message’ thing.” I handed his phone back to him. “It’s my blood, isn’t it?”

“You’re way better at this than you let on. Yeah, it’s your blood. Hopefully we can get something from the video footage, but given all of the connecting evidence, I’m thinking whoever is responsible will reach out in some way.” This was the part where he sighed heavily and looked disappointed in himself. “Unfortunately, because of the current state of the investigation, the FBI is going to be taking over this case. They’re already on their way to start their own investigation.”

“Of fucking course.” I stood up and started pacing, and before I knew it I was throwing pillows across the room. I reached for his glass of water and was ready to throw, but someone came up behind me and pulled my fingers away before I could cause any real damage. “Hey —“

Jess stood behind me and set the glass on the table. “Don’t start pulling that shit, Y/N. You haven’t thrown stuff since you were twelve.” Jake awkwardly stepped out of the living room, but it didn’t matter; you could’ve heard our conversation no matter where you were in the compound

I wiped at the tears on my cheeks. “Well I was twelve last time my parents left me, so, old habits.”

“Don’t go back to that, you’ve come too far.”

“Of course I’m acting like a twelve year old, that’s how I feel!” I groaned and grabbed another pillow, but this time I threw it at her. “I lost both of my parents in less than three days just when we were getting back to a good place! And all I want to do is scream and cry and burst into flame, but I have to be the adult and keep it all together when I feel like I’m dying!”

I didn’t care about how badly I was crying. I didn’t care about much of anything. I just wanted to finally have something as tangible and damaging in front of me as I did inside of me.

“Don’t tell me that I’m moving backwards, because I’m doing everything I can just to stand up straight.” I left her and ran through the front door, all the way to the edge of the property.

In Avatar: The Last Airbender, Iroh says lightning can only be handled by someone who is in balance. Well, that’s not necessarily true. Creating it, sure. But harnessing it from a different source? That’s a lot of emotion that has to be channeled into draining the power from one source and using it for yourself.

And boy did I have plenty of emotion.

I pulled the energy straight out of the sky. (Thor who?) It probably wasn’t the best idea, considering the sprinklers made everything in sight slightly damp, but I didn’t care; I couldn’t get fried, and anyone else stupid enough to follow me out here would soon learn a very important lesson.

My hands were glowing white with electricity. And I just kept pulling more and more of it out of the sky until all I could see was white.

And then I let it all go.

I screamed until my throat was raw. I screamed until I saw red. I screamed until there was nothing left in me, and then I kept screaming. The ground around me caved in and the blackened grass started smoldering and I still screamed.

And then I sobbed. I knelt on the grass and sobbed.

////////////

I was determined to just sleep outside that night, but the adult-ier adults had a different idea. It was Bucky who finally braved coming outside and getting me. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s get you in bed.” He ended up just carrying me back to the compound, but instead of going to Wanda’s room — where I thought he was headed — he skipped that hallway completely and chose the next one.

The one with Peter’s room.

He lightly kicked open the door and gently put me on the bed, but someone sat beside me on the bed. My eyes flew open, ready to attack, but when they adjusted to the darkness, I just gasped and jumped into his arms.

Peter.

“Take care of her,” was all I heard Bucky say, and I felt Peter nod, but I didn’t dare look up. For a girl who’s barely known him for a year, I’ve become strongly attached to Peter Parker, and I was realizing now that he was a constant in my life that I sorely depended on (not so good in the long run, but I could worry about that later).

“How did you get here so fast?” A part of me wanted to look at his face and know it was Peter, but I kept my head in the crook of his neck, listening to his steady heartbeat and reassuring myself that was all I needed.

“Doctor Strange. Sam called him after you ran outside.”

I did finally look up at him, and tears I didn’t even know I had left decided to make an appearance. “Yeah, you never would’ve made it past the police line.”

He smiled softly (I would never get over that smile) and then leaned back. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”

He immediately felt the affect his words had on me. My heart jumped and started racing, my breathing picked up, my fists clenched. “Hey, hey, hey.” But one reassuring hand on my neck and jaw and I calmed down. Slightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” I choked out, “because I can’t lose anyone else I care about.”

I don’t remember falling asleep. I only remember a tangle of legs and Peter’s heartbeat under my ear.

////////////

Quentin Beck was holding me by the throat. “You couldn’t stop me from killing all of those people. You couldn’t stop me from hurting Peter. And now you can’t stop me from taking your parents.” MJ and Ned and Flash and Betty and Peter and Mom and Dad all formed out of the rubble and then disappeared before I could save them. Beck squeezed my neck tighter and tighter —

I gasped awake. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, my lungs refused to fill completely, and it was still dark enough outside that I couldn’t see anything around me. “It wasn��t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.” I rubbed my hands over my eyes, trying to erase the nightmare, but it wouldn’t go away; Beck’s hands around my throat were still there, like a phantom pain.

Then a hand gently grabbed my leg and I heard a yelp as I blew a gust of air at whoever it was.

Peter landed on the ground with a thud.

I crawled to the edge and let my adjusted eyes focus on his outline. “Shit, Peter, I’m so sorry.”

He rubbed his elbow for a second but then looked up at me. “Are you okay?”

“I just airbended you off the bed and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

He stood up and sat beside me, his hand finding mine. “You weren’t breathing, Y/N. You were choking on air and it was scaring the hell out of me.”

“It-“ I wrapped my fingers around his and took a shaky breath, finally feeling like I had enough air. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Okay.” He glanced around and his eyes landed on the alarm clock. 5:13. “Want to go train?”

I was fucking exhausted. But at this point, I was taking Jake’s word and waiting for the next move. So maybe training would do some good. “Yeah, okay.”

We trained well after the sun came up. Peter kept to the higher alcoves of the gym, while I liked to stay on the ground. But we did a couple ‘blindfold rounds’ until we could easily pick each other out amongst the ‘noise.’

“One more blindfold round,” he said through his teeth. One of the bots clipped him in the side and he was leaning heavily, but he insisted. “As hard as you’ve got, FRIDAY.”

We tied our blindfolds around our eyes one more time and took our stances. At this point, we weren’t just practicing our gifts; we were (at least I was) letting go of our inhibitions toward each other. My attention was on him and the bots and nothing else. (If I wasn’t sure how head over heels I was for this guy, I was pretty positive about it now.)

“Three.”

I wiggled my fingers in anticipation.

“Two.”

Peter’s shoes rubbed against the floor.

“One.”

Don’t ask me how the tech worked. I still have no idea how they managed to create simulations that were actually tangible, but I was really grateful, because it meant Peter and I got accurate practice. I rolled forward, a shot barely edging above me, while Peter immediately went for the high ground, dodging the bots that tried to keep up.

I didn’t just try to feel them while they were on the ground, I honed in on the metal surrounding them and the electricity coursing through them. I ripped the bots to shreds and made them collapse in on themselves and caused sparks to flash across the room when I doused others with water.

Peter jumped on top of different bots and used his taser webs to take most of them down, but he threw some my way, and vice versa. The whole point of the training session was to build trust, and we were trying our best to be successful.

I couldn’t feel any more bots with electricity in the room, and Peter came down to the ground, but before either of us took our blindfolds off, I felt someone else step onto the mat. Someone I didn’t recognize.

I formed a water whip and wrapped it around the foreign person, then I ripped off my blindfold, only to see my water whip attached to thin air. Or —

“Who the hell are you?”

They were invisible. But I knew without a doubt that a person was on the other end of my whip. I walked closer and froze the rest of the water around their body with jagged edges leading to their head — at least what I assumed was their head.

“I said,” I reached my hands out and tried to find some purchase, “who the hell are you?” My fingers wrapped around what I assumed was their throat and I squeezed.

His facade gave out quickly. I didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t matter; FRIDAY was always monitoring.

“Hey,” Peter said quietly and put a hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t relent.

“Answer the goddamn question, or you’ll have more to worry about than some slight freezer burn.”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. They’re coming for you, Y/N, and they won’t stop until you’ve paid for what you’ve done.”

My grip lessened, just a bit. “When?”

“Soon.” A haggard cough escaped his lips. “You really shouldn’t have left your friends so vulnerable.”

My eyes went wide, and just as my grip slackened some more, Wanda and Sam barged into the room. Her red magic kept him trapped, and Sam put duct tape over his mouth. “FBI is already on their way. How did you know he was here?”

“I just did.” I let go completely and let the water thaw to a puddle. “How fast can we get to the city?”

Sam’s eyebrows creased. “Strange could have you there in seconds, why?”

“Something else is going to happen, and it’s going to happen there.”

tags: @eridanuswave​ @vampirestrawberries​ @yougottalovefandoms​

[humans4vampires]

Inebriated

Request from my Twilight Squad: “Need. Drunk. Bella.”

Your wish is my command. Cheers! Join Bella in a shot of tequila - if you’re of drinking age, of course. 

Warning: Underage drinking.

Billy chuckled, low and long, and the magic seemed to fade into the glowing embers. Suddenly, it was just a circle of friends again. Jared flicked a small stone at Quil, and everyone laughed when it made him jump. Low conversations murmured around us, teasing and casual. Neither Jacob nor I spoke. He was so still beside me, his breath so deep and even, that I thought he might be close to sleep; I watched the others around me.

The older members of the tribe said their goodbyes and headed toward home. Sue Clearwater left with Billy and Seth, and I wondered why Leah wasn’t going with them. She was still sitting with her eyes closed across from me, the dying fire between us. Embry and Quil walked into the forest and returned with more wood to refuel the flames. Emily and Sam made a quiet exit after Paul. In a matter of a few minutes, only Leah, Jared, Kim, Embry, Quil, Jacob and I were left sitting around the fire.

Embry and Quil exchanged a curious look and Quil took off toward the forest again. Jacob sat up and slapped his palms together in a single clap.

“Good thinking, Quil,” Jacob laughed.

Quil returned with a large paper bag, its contents clinking together; glass bottles?

“Alright,” Quil said, sticking a hand into the bag. “Pick your poison.”

It had been a long time since I’d had a drink, though I’d ever been drunk before. Alcohol had never been very appealing to me, but I had, in the past, participated very sparingly in the cliché underage drinking ritual that Jacob and his friends sometimes engaged in. I’d never seen anyone get out of control; the Quileute boys were big and I thought it would take a lot more than a few bottles to get any of them genuinely drunk. Mostly, they enjoyed the normalcy and comradery. And I could understand why – teen drinking was certainly a much less controversial secret to keep than those they were already keeping. 

Quil pulled each bottle out by its neck and passed them around. Jacob took a large bottle of tequila.

“Bella?” Jacob held out the bottle to me.

I nodded, but my mind was still a thousand years away. I was not thinking of Yaha Uta or the other wolves, or the beautiful Cold Woman – I could picture her only too easily. No, I was thinking of someone outside the magic altogether. I was trying to imagine the face of the unnamed woman who had saved the entire tribe, the third wife.

I wish they’d remembered her name…

Something shook my arm.

“Save some for the rest of us,” Jacob laughed, taking the bottle from me.

I’d only taken a couple of swigs from the bottle’s edge, maybe one… or two? It was revolting and comforting all the same. I shook my head and quivered as the liquid settled in my stomach, making me wrinkle my nose.

Jacob took bigger gulps without wincing before passing the bottle back to me. Jared and Kim were sharing what looked like vodka and Embry and Quil were passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth. Only Leah had a bottle to herself and she stared peacefully into the flicker of the fire as she sipped slowly. She was lost in thought, too.

I was prepping myself for another sip when Jacob patted my leg. “You sure your bloodsucker is going to be okay with this?” Jacob asked.

I gave him a scolding look and took a bigger mouthful in protest. Once I managed to choke it down, I was able to speak. “I can do whatever I want, Jake.”

Jacob shot back a questioning expression.

“What?” I said sternly.

He shook his head. “Nothing,” he chuckled. “Go on.”

I would have stopped drinking if my stubbornness hadn’t spurred me on. Jacob and I passed the bottle between us as the night drew on. I couldn’t tell, at first, that I had passed my usual threshold. I had never had more than a couple of sips before, usually allowing Jacob to polish off whatever we were sharing. In the months I had spent with him here in La Push, we had only spent time with his friends like this a handful of times. In all that time, I was terrified of the backlash I’d get from Charlie if he ever found out.

But for whatever reason, if it was my stubborn nature or the pressure I was drowning under, I kept bringing the tequila back to my lips. After awhile, it was easier to take. I was wincing a lot less and laughing a lot more. I held out my hand in front of me and watched it lag in the shadow of the fire. Everything felt slower somehow and my tongue felt heavy and sloppy against my teeth. My lips were numb and it felt like everything I wanted to say came out wrong. In that moment, I was burden-free, even if only artificially.

It was more intense when I went to stand. Did I offer to help Embry get more firewood?

“Sit down, Bella,” Jacob laughed, pulling me back down next to him, my legs folding under my weight.

“I can help!” I said, too loudly.

Jacob patted my leg again, “Yeah, yeah. We don’t need you tripping over your own feet. Your bloodsucker wouldn’t let you come back if I returned damaged goods.”

I snorted. “I fall all the time!” My eyes felt heavy. How long had we been here? “Edward,” I corrected Jacob. I had forgotten if there was something else I needed to correct him on.

Jacob pulled me into his lap and rested my head against his chest. I wanted to push back, but my awkward hands were no match for his warm strength. I gave up and relaxed; it felt nice to be close to him like that, I thought.

I jerked my head up and looked at Jacob, but the words I was looking for didn’t come out. Suddenly, my mind was back on the third wife. She was just a woman, with no gifts or powers. She was physically weaker and slower than any of the monsters in the story. But she had been the key, the solution. She’d saved her husband, her young sons, her tribe.

“But what was her name?” I managed to choke out.

Jacob jostled me. “C’mon, Bells,” Jacob said in my ear. “We’re here.”

I blinked, confused because the fire seemed to have disappeared. I glared into the unexpected darkness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It took me a minute to realize that I was no longer on the cliff. Jacob and I were alone. I was still in his arms, but we weren’t on the ground anymore. I was losing chunks of time.

He opened the car door and helped me into the passenger seat. How did we get here?

“Oh, crap!” I gasped as I realized that I had fallen asleep. “How late is it? Damn, where’s that stupid phone?” I patted my pockets, frantic and coming up empty.

“Easy. It’s not even midnight yet. And I already called him for you.”

I was moving around, but my body was still slow and even clumsier than usual. I held my hands to my eyes. “Oh, crap,” I whined again.

Jacob was in the driver’s seat, taking me to where Edward was presumably waiting.

“You worried about him coming down on you for being irresponsible?” Jacob chuckled. 

I didn’t reply and Jacob laughed to himself.

“Midnight?” I repeated stupidly, still disoriented. The car began to slow and my heartbeat picked up when my eyes made out the shape of the Volvo, thirty yards away in the headlights. I reached for the door handle as soon as we stopped.

“Here,” Jacob said, and he put a small shape into my other hand. The phone.

“You called Edward for me?”

My eyes were adjusted enough to see the bright gleam of Jacob’s smile. “I figured if I played nice, I’d get more time with you.”

“Thanks, Jake,” I said, the words fumbling together.

There was a movement in the dark distance – something pale ghosting against the black trees. Pacing?

“Yeah, he’s not so patient is he?” Jacob said, noticing my distraction. “Let’s get you back to your bloodsucker.”

I pushed open the door and put my foot on the ground; it felt like my ankle had liquefied. Jacob was there then, pulling me up to stand. Both feet were on the ground, but neither felt usable. Jacob carried my slumped body over the pavement toward Edward, my feet dangling like a ragdoll’s. I tried to object.

“Bella?” Edward sounded frantic. “Bella, are you alright?”

Suddenly, the soft heat was replaced with rigid and cold stone. I was cradled in Edward’s arms, his fingers dancing across my face and neck so quickly I could only feel the lingering touch of ice. He had caught me at the boundary line.

“I’m fine,” I said. I was sure I gave an unconvincing performance. The simplest of words were slurring together.

I could feel Edward’s body tense. His jaw was taught. “How much did she have to drink?” Edward’s voice was cold, too.

Jacob didn’t have to reply; Edward must have been getting the recap of the evening in Jacob’s thoughts. Jacob held his hands up in a faux gesture of surrender.

“She’s a big girl,” Jacob said. “I let her make her own decisions.”

"Child,” Edward hissed through clenched teeth, turning toward the Volvo.

“Come back soon, Bells,” Jacob called out, a laugh rumbling through him.

I was struggling to speak. My tongue still weighed a thousand pounds and my lips were still useless decoration. Was I saying something? There was no use arguing with Edward, but for some reason I continued to try. Every movement felt like a waste of energy. My limbs felt loose, too fluid, like I had no control.

And oh, his skin on mine made me lose my train of thought. My lips were so close to his neck, I couldn’t resist. I wrapped one hand around his neck, clutching at the hair there, as I planted my lips on his cold neck. I inhaled deeply, drowning in his delicious scent as I kissed him there.

Jacob was not laughing anymore. Edward let out a smug laugh, as he swiftly opened my door and lifted me in, buckling my seat belt around me. I complained about the distance between us as bright lights flashed on and swept across us. I waved toward Jacob’s headlights, but I didn’t know if he saw the gesture.

I struggled to sit up straight in my seat so that I could reach Edward as he drove. I clawed at the center console to pull myself closer to him. I was hanging over to the driver’s side, trying to kiss his neck again, as my right hand grabbed at his thigh.

His hand was immediately at my wrist, restraining me.

“Bella,” he scolded. “Can you attempt to control yourself?”

I whispered on his neck between sloppy kisses. What did I say?

“I’m operating a vehicle.”

I shrugged and laughed. “I thought you were the world’s greatest driver?”

“Bella,” he said more sternly. I ran my tongue from his collarbone to his ear.

Suddenly, I was pinned back in my seat, his right arm holding me there. His breathing sounded rough, making my heart race faster.

“Honestly, Bella,” he was looking out the windshield.

I didn’t want to argue now. All I could focus on was his strong arm wrapped over me. I bent my elbows to run my fingers along his cool skin. Edward didn’t react. I was having a hard time remembering what had happened moments ago. Did I say something? Did he say something?

Edward was shaking his head. “It will be a miracle if we can get you past Charlie in this condition.”

I looked out the window and we were whirring onto my street. “No!” I whined. “Take me home with you.”

“Bella, Charlie is expecting you.”

I pouted as he pulled in behind my truck. He cut the engine and removed my restraints, giving me a questioning look.

“What are you looking at?” I managed to sputter.

He gave me a serious look. “Bella, I am going to carry you in. Please contain yourself.”

I tried to mimic his expression. “I don’t need that. I can walk.”

I fumbled for the door handle, but he was already at my door and lifting me into his arms.

“Edwar-“ he cut me off.

“Please, Bella. Charlie is waiting up for you.” Edward begged.

A thought crossed my mind then. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

“This isn’t for my benefit, Bella,” he rationalized.

“Then I won’t do it.”

Edward sighed. He couldn’t resist the unknown. “What do you want?”

I smiled brightly in response.

“I’ll play dead right now –“

“Asleep, Bella.”

“Right,” I continued. “I’ll pretend to be asleep, but when you come back tonight, I don’t have to contain myself.”

“Bella,” he complained.

“Take it or leave it,” I said quietly. I tried to weasel my way out of his arms, but he held me firmly.

Another sigh escaped his lips and his feet began moving toward the house. I grinned widely in triumph.

“The deal is off the table if you don’t hold up your end,” he said under his breath.

I closed my eyes and let the tension fall out of my body. I must not have been very convincing; Edward tilted my head so that my face rested on his shoulder, my hair spilling over my face.

Charlie opened the door as Edward walked up the front steps.

Charlie spoke softly. “She still asleep?”

I felt Edward nod. Jacob must have called Charlie, too. Edward marched almost silently up the stairs. I could hear Charlie’s clunky steps behind us. Edward set me in my bed gently. He kissed my forehead lightly, eliciting a small huff from Charlie. Edward stepped back and Charlie haphazardly removed my shoes and tucked my quilt around me. I snuggled in, hoping my performance was convincing as the two silently left my room. They spoke for a moment, their voices too obscured for me to listen in on.

I had to open my eyes; the room felt like it was spinning, rotating in a choppy motion that made me feel queasy. I sat up to steady myself. I heard the front door shut and the engine of the Volvo as it sped away. Charlie’s footsteps pounded back up the stairs and I threw myself back against the bed before he popped his head through my door. He closed my door silently before going down the hall to his room for the night.

I sat up slowly and stumbled out of the bed. I tripped on my shoes and fell back on the bed on my way to the door. I staggered my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I brushed my teeth vigorously, trying to wash the taste of tequila from my mouth. I lost my balance trying to take off my jeans, getting them stuck on my thick socks. I tumbled slowly to the tile floor and removed the rest of my clothes as quickly as I could manage before crawling my way into the stream of water. Every movement I made felt deliberate, but careless. I was washing myself in a blur. I spilled the entire bottle of shampoo and the bar of soap continued to pop out of my hands every time I tried to pick it up. I felt a little soapy still when I turned the water off and floundered into a towel. It was the fastest I’d ever been in and out of the bathroom.

I was soaking wet as I tried to tip-toe my way back into my room. I had to lean against the wall the entire four feet I struggled to walk. It was a miracle that I managed to get the door shut without much more chaos. I squinted through the darkness, looking for him. Edward wasn’t back yet.

I ran to my dresser, tripping on the shoes again. I stopped to hurl them into my closet; the loud thud made me wince. I stumbled a bit, still completely off balance. The weight of the water in my heavy hair didn’t help, either. I laughed, clapping a hand over my mouth to stifle it. I doubted Charlie was already asleep, but figured he heard the shower and was giving me my privacy.

I pulled out clothes and put them on quickly, not paying attention to what I grabbed. When I was dressed, I lurched toward the open window, leaning out while I waited for Edward to come back. The night was surprisingly cold, almost wintry. I hadn’t noticed it at all on the windy cliffs. Icy droplets spattered against my face as the rain began to fall.

It was too dark to see much besides the black triangles of the spruces leaning and shaking with the wind. But I strained my eyes anyway, searching for other shapes in the storm. A pale silhouette, moving like a ghost through the black… or maybe the shadowy outline of an enormous wolf… My eyes were too weak, my head too foggy. I was beginning to sway when a sudden movement in the night caught my attention. He was right beside me then, sliding through my open window, his hands colder than the rain.

“Is Jacob out there?” I asked, the words blending together, my tongue still a heavy burden.

Edward pulled me into the circle of his arms. “Yes… somewhere. And Esme’s on her way home.”

“Ah, crap,” I muttered against his chest.

Edward chuckled over my head. “She was concerned about you… you were making quite a bit of noise. She almost came inside to make sure you were alright.”

My face was already warm from the alcohol; had I been sober, I would probably have blushed.

“That’s embarrassing.” I pressed my face into his shirt, making the words unintelligible.

Edward stroked my wet hair and I felt a silent laugh roll through him. His hand swept my hair away to rest on the back of my neck. A shiver rolled through me, reminding me of the deal we had made.

I didn’t bother speaking, but the gasp that passed my lips startled him. I jerked back and lunged at him, my arms locking around his neck as I kissed him, unrestrained.

He kissed me back for a minute before he gently removed me from himself.

“Relax, Bella,” he said, struggling to get the words out. His free hand was balled into a fist.

“You promised,” I grumbled, tugging at his shirt.

“I was hoping you’d forget about that,” he admitted, still holding me off.

I sighed, slapping my hands down at my sides. Whatever I said made him laugh. What did I say?

I stumbled backwards, falling onto my back on the mattress. “You promised,” I repeated.

“I made no such deal,” Edward said, a proud grin on his lips.

“That’s cheating,” I whined too loudly. He was suddenly hovering over me, a cold finger at my lips. Just as quickly, he was gone and my bedroom door was opening.

“What’s going on, Bella?” Charlie said as the hall light illuminated me.

“Sorry, Ch-Dad.” I propped myself up. “I tripped getting into my pajamas.”

I sounded coherent enough. I thought my slurring could pass for grogginess, but Charlie looked at me as though he wasn’t buying it.

“Get to bed, Bells.”

I dragged myself up the bed as Charlie went back to his room. My body felt heavy enough to stay down, but I forced it back up when the room started its inconsistent writhing again. Edward was standing in the dim light from the window, watching me with a curious expression.

“What?” I said, too loud again. I repeated it in an exaggerated whisper to prove that I could control myself.

Edward shook his head. “I was hoping that would sober you up.”

“I’m waiting,” I said, patting the bed beside me. My head slumped to the side, the weight dragging on my neck as I snapped it back in an upright position.

Edward’s expression had changed. A smirk was budding on his lips as he crossed his arms slowly, pulling his t-shirt over his head. My expression made him chuckle softly.

He said something low, velvet. I couldn’t catch it. I was too distracted by my own pulse ringing in my ears. My hands were stretched out in front of me towards him, like a child begging for a toy. He dropped his shirt and walked toward the edge of my bed. I scurried towards him, running my hands up his perfect stomach. I was too weak to pull myself up, so I pulled at him to follow me down. He came to hover over me again, his lips inches from mine. I relished in his cold breath, closing my eyes as he gently kissed my jaw and neck, eventually finding my lips. My back arched my body toward him, my hands balled the sheets into my fists.

The sound I made brought Edward’s hand to my mouth, a soft hush falling from his lips. It didn’t make me quieter. He sighed and kissed me firmly. I was surprised when his hands moved to my hips, sending another wave of noise through me.

“Bella.” Edward whispered against my neck.

Words were spilling out of my mouth, I just wasn’t sure what they were. I must have been too loud. Edward had disappeared again and Charlie was at my door.

“Bella,” he said, swinging the door open. “What are you doing?”

I sat up and threw the quilt over myself. “I’m going to bed!”

The frustration I felt came out in my tone. Charlie said something indecipherable, let out a frustrated huff, and closed the door loudly behind him. As Charlie stomped back to his room, I threw myself back down, throwing my arms out so that I covered the entire width of the small bed. The room continued to sputter and spin, so I forced myself back up. My head swayed, spilling my still wet hair around my face. I caught sight of Edward again; he was sitting at the foot of the bed staring at me with questioning eyes.

I felt like I was forgetting chunks of time – or was he just moving too quickly? We were in the bed now, my head on his bare chest, his arms above his head. I sat up again, searching for water. He was gone and back with a glass before I could reach the nightstand. He dropped three ibuprofen pills in my hand and I struggled to get them in my mouth. I was too eager with the glass and felt some water dribble off my chin and onto my shirt. He said something with a gentle smile and I replied; what did I say?

I rested my head on his chest again once we were back in the bed. The coolness of his skin helped to soothe the spinning. I couldn’t keep my eyes closed though; every time I tried, my body felt like it was pulsing. I kept springing my head back up. We continued like that for awhile.

“Bella, close your eyes,” he pleaded again.

“I think we need to do something,” I said. “I’m not ready to sleep.”

“You’re being too loud,” Edward said quietly, trying to coax me back to the bed.

I was making my way toward the window. “Come on,” I urged. “Let’s go see Alice.”

“Bella,” he said, suddenly blocking my path. “It’s late.”

I laughed loudly; how absurd? “You don’t sleep!”

Edward sighed. “Close your eyes.”

I did and my body slumped involuntarily. Edward caught me, of course, and I was in his arms. I didn’t feel like I was spinning so much anymore. Edward wrapped me in my heavy quilt, leaving only my face exposed. He kept me cradled in his arms as he paced around the room. I was like a restless baby, unwilling to sleep. I felt a cold breeze on my face from the open window. I kept my eyes closed, but I continued talking; I didn’t want him to think he was winning. He would answer me from time to time. And suddenly the light turned on and I struggled to adjust my eyes.

“Edward?”

“She refused to sleep,” Edward replied, sounding amused.

Carlisle laughed, “Yes, Esme told me what happened.”

I jerked my head to take in the room. We were in the Cullens’ living room. Had Edward run with me all the way here? Carlisle was standing closer than I thought. He ran a cool hand over my cheek.

“How are you feeling, Bella?” he asked softly with a wide smile.

“Fine,” I was still too loud.

Emmett and Alice came into the room as Edward put me on my feet and unwrapped me from the quilt. He was still holding me steady, like I was just a child learning to walk.

“Alice!” I yelled. “See, I told you she would be up!”

“Hi, Bella,” Alice eyed my outfit with a disapproving look. “Having a fun night?”

The way I answered her made Emmett laugh. “Nice, Bella.”

Edward turned to Alice, “I couldn’t keep her quiet. How long do we have?”

Alice looked into the future, her eyes glossing over. “Charlie will sleep through the night,” she chuckled. “Now that Bella’s out of the house.”

I didn’t like the implication. “Charlie?” I scoffed. “He’s fine.”

Edward helped me to the couch. I collapsed into the soft white fabric and Alice sat beside me. I reached out and grabbed her hands, a sudden rush of thoughts and questions coming to my mind. Edward left the room and returned with more water for me as I continued to blather.

Edward handed me the glass, guiding it towards my lips.

“Water?” Emmett boomed. “Get this girl some more tequila!”

Emmett, Alice, and I continued talking. It felt as though every thought that entered my mind exited my lips. Edward and Carlisle stood in the kitchen, probably discussing ways to sober me up. But I agreed with Emmett; God, how stressful everything around us was. For once, I felt totally free. I felt like someone else entirely and completely unashamed of my behavior. I could tell that my words weren’t making much sense and I could tell that my movements were even sloppier than usual, but I just simply didn’t care.

The Cullens kept me entertained as Edward continued to bring me water and bread. Emmett put me through a few DUI tests; I couldn’t get past X in attempting the alphabet backwards and walking in a straight line while trying to place a finger on my nose with each step was a complete failure. Edward caught me each time I fell. Alice had to take me to the bathroom constantly, and Edward would be waiting with another glass of water each time we returned. I was completely unaware of the timeline of events. Eventually, I made my way up the stairs to Edward’s room. I pulled CD case after CD case out of the shelves and continued to swap them out before one song on the album could even finish.

“Ah,” Edward said over Everything Counts by Depeche Mode. “Jasper.”

I’d never blacked out before, but I figured that’s what happened. The rest of the night vanished from my mind. When I opened my eyes, the blue light of the morning was spilling into my room. Had we even gone to the Cullens’ or had it all been a dream? I moved thoughtlessly, but a nagging pain in my head stopped me. I groaned loudly, holding my head as if it were about to fall apart. It hit me that, it in fact, had not been a dream. I pushed my face into my pillow.

I heard him chuckle then and I moved slowly, turning my head up to look at him. Edward was resting with his arms tucked behind his head. His golden eyes were curious, his voice was low and gentle. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I never want to drink again.”

He laughed. “That’s too bad.”

That surprised me. “Too bad?”

He put a cold hand to the back of my neck, which helped the nausea. “You’re an open book when you’re inebriated,” he smiled. “It’s surprisingly enjoyable.”

The nausea was back. “What did I say?”

Edward shrugged. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and he laughed again.

I didn’t press the question. I wanted him to leave in the event the nausea took a turn for the worst. He brought me more ibuprofen and a cup of coffee leftover in the pot from Charlie. He moved through the house undetected as Charlie prepared himself for work. Edward kissed me, long enough to get my pulse racing —and my head pounding— and then headed home to change and get his car. I dragged myself out of the bed and tried to get myself ready for school.

Oh, how the pain numbed all the other worries I harbored.

___

Read the other parts of this story here:

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

[asleepyraven]

Overthinking

Summary: V tries to figure out how to prepare for a date she’s not even technically going on.

Word Count: 1,742

Warnings: Language

Characters: Female V (Nomad), Johnny

A/n: If I missed any warnings please let me know! In the mean time hope you enjoy! I sat on this one for wayyyyy too long.  Previous Part: Reflections

V’s eyes slowly opened, but the light was too bright and her vision was blurry. She blinked a few times and slowly the tattoo on her arm came into focus. It annoyed her at first- a reminder of what an idiot she’d been, but now it reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Her condition was getting worse. She fell asleep to more nightmares and awoke with stronger headaches. Johnny did- god help her, get under her skin, sometimes, and he may technically be the reason she’s dying, but she was glad she wasn’t going through this by herself. Everything aside, when push came to shove, he had always been there when it mattered most. 

Speak of the devil, she thought as he appeared next to her. “Finally, you’re awake. I know people say they need their beauty sleep, but fuck, doesn’t seem to help in your case.”  “Good morning to you too,” V yawned as she sat up and stretched. 

He glitched and reappeared standing at the window. “Afternoon is more like. Was starting to think you’d sleep right through dinner.” 

“Nah, promised to call Rogue, didn’t I? Can’t exactly go out on a date for a midnight snack.”  Johnny took off his glasses and looked at her. “You’re sure about this?” “Can’t say the idea of handing you the wheel again thrills me, but yeah. Besides, I kind of owe you for the whole lake date with Judy; I know that wasn’t exactly a good time for you.” 

She swore she saw him shiver as he put his glasses back on. “Wasn’t exactly fun for you either, but she batted her eyelashes and you just couldn’t say no.”

V shrugged. “It was important to her, even if it did scare me half to death.” 

“And you’re worried about me having control. Imagine how I feel any time a pretty girl asks you for a favor. Sure, Panam, I’ll raid a Wraith hide out with you. I’ll risk my neck to get your leader back. I’ll help you steal a god-damn tank. Sure, Judy, I’ll fight through two dozen scavs to rescue your ex. I’ll start a war with the Tyger Claws to free some joy toys. I’ll dive to the bottom of a fuckin’ toxic lake, even though I’m terrified of being underwater. You are hopeless when it comes to damsels in distress.” 

“I...fine. Maybe I have an issue with saying no to my friends, but most of it was fun.”  “It’s just tits you can’t say no to. You say no to me just fine.” 

V laughed. “Well, technically you’ve got tits now, so there goes your theory. Besides, I said I’d do it, didn’t I? You know I’m a merc of my word. And I agreed to give you a second chance, so...so there’s no reason not to.”

He sighed. “You don’t owe me anything. If you really don’t trust me then-”

“I...I want to. It’s just...scary, is all. Weird, being trapped in my own body with no control. Felt like I was locked in my own trunk. I guess maybe that’s how you feel all the time, but, I don’t know. It’s my body. I’m supposed to be driving.”  “Yeah, I can kind of understand that. Right now I’m standing here talking to you, completely aware, but the drugs take you out of it. Guess I could see how it’d be scary to only get flashes, but I promise, I’m not gonna make that mistake twice.” 

“I guess we’ll find out,” V sighed and pulled up Rogue’s number. 

She couldn’t believe she was really going to call up the queen of Afterlife and ask her on a date.  

“V, need something?” Rogue’s tone wasn’t exactly encouraging, but the fact that she answered was proof that she was at least somewhat over the whole Grayson/Smasher business. 

“Johnny wants to ask you out on a date,” V replied in a light, almost teasing tone. 

“Johnny does, or you do?”

V was taken aback. “Johnny. You’re the one who said you got no issue tellin’ us apart.” 

“Just not like him. Well, alright. Where would we go?”

“Where would you like to go?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Silver Pixel Cloud.”

“Alright. Sounds good. We’ll pick you up tonight then.” “Sure, come around six-thirty.”

“See you then.” 

V grinned like an idiot at Johnny, who couldn’t help but smirk back a little. 

He shook his head. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“’Cause it’s cute. Johnny has a date! It’s...kinda weird to think about actually.” 

He pushed off the window and stood up straight, crossing his arms. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno, just hard to picture. Not like you ever had to work for your girls; they just lined up for you. Do you even know how to be romantic?” 

He rolled his eyes. “You think Rogue and I hooked up in the first place because I swept her off her feet with roses and open doors?”

“I have no idea why she gave you the time of day, or why she still does for that matter. I mean, what was it, three other women you were sleeping with last time you were dating?”

“Well, she doesn’t have to worry about that now.”

“You see my point though. You have no idea how to even go on a normal date, do you?”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“Just trying to help. Look, we don’t have a lot of time. Make this night count is all I’m saying. Make it special somehow. Maybe be a bit of a gentleman for once in your life.”

“I’m always a gentleman.”  “Riiiiighhhttt. In any case, I better get a move on if I want to get some biz done before I hand over the wheel. First thing’s first, breakfast.”                                      *                         *                          *

V shrugged off her jacket as she entered her apartment.“Can’t believe it’s already five. Time flies when you’re doing merc work.”

Johnny lit up a cigarette. “It also flies when you sleep half the day.”

“Getting up early is overrated.” 

He flopped down on the couch. “Gotta agree with you there.”

“So, excited for tonight?” V asked as she strolled over to her closet. 

“Yeah, jumping up and down like a little girl, just on the inside.”  “This is so weird. What do I even wear? Do I try to look hot, or should I dress more like you?” “Wow okay.” 

“What? Ha, no, I just really don’t know what I should go for here.” 

“Don’t think it matters, V. ‘Sides, you’re not the one actually going on the date, ‘member?”

“Yeah, but my body is.”

“Wear whatever, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Doesn’t matter? Must be nice being you. What’s it like to give actually give zero fucks about what anyone thinks?”

“Fuckin’ preem. You should try it.” 

“Seriously, there’s no part of you that’s self-conscious? I could dress myself in the worst sweats I have and you’d just strut out there and make it work?” 

“I could, yeah.” He sat up and looked at her. “V, what’s really going on? You barely put any thought into how you dress. Why’s this any different?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Like, if I were dressing for a date with Judy this would be so much easier, but I’m not. I’m dressing for a date with Rogue, for you. It’s-”

“You’re thinking about it way too much.” 

“You’re probably right. I’m gonna go take a shower. I’m starting to give myself a headache.”  “You always have headaches.” 

“Funny, I didn’t used to until you showed up.”  “What, no one ever pointed out the dumb shit you do before I showed up?” V smiled sadly. “No, I used to have someone that did the dumb shit with me.”  “Jackie.” 

“Mhm.” 

“You don’t talk about him much.” 

“What was it you said when I said that about you and Alt? There was never the right time?” “Not exactly easy to just spill about your dead chooms, is it?”

“No. Not really.”  They lapsed into silence until V stepped out of the shower. 

“So, decide what you’re going to wear?” Johnny asked appearing behind her in the mirror. 

“Fuck, can you not? You know I hate when you do that.”

“It’s not like I don’t know what you look like.” 

“I know, but it’s a little easier when you’re not... Can you just- You don’t have to be right here.”

He rolled his eyes, but glitched out of view. “Really V, it’s not like there’s any secrets between us. You’ve seen me naked. Is that your issue, that it’s just you? Cause I could-” She toweled off her hair. “Fuck, no. Just, look I know all that, but give a girl her fake privacy, alright? Let me pretend that I have some space in here.”  “Psht, nothin’ but empty space in here, can almost hear the echos.”  “Lucky that means there was enough room for your ego.”  She wrapped her towel around herself and strolled over to her closet. She decided maybe she was putting too much thought into it. She grabbed a pair of distressed jeans and tugged them on. She reached for her Samurai tank top, but stopped.  She turned to Johnny. “T-shirt or tank?”  “For fuck’s sake V, it doesn’t matter!” “But what would you feel more comfortable in? I mean you wear tanks, but it’s different when a girl does it.”  “Why?”

She flexed her arm. “’Cause for guys it’s sun’s out guns out, but for girls,” She drew a hand across her torso. “It’s more about the chest. So I don’t know. It’s that weird for you?” “In case you missed it, this whole thing is weird. Pick whatever.” V grabbed her Samurai T-shirt instead. She went back to the mirror and spiked up her hair and brushed her teeth.  “You done yet? We’re gonna be late. You know, now that I think about it, how are lesbians ever on time for dates?”

“We just add a half hour to whatever time we set,” V responded, tugging on her jacket. She slid Johnny’s shades out of the pocket and put them on. “How do I look?”

He shrugged. “Decent I guess, can we go now?”

“Yeah, let me just find the keys.” 

“We takin’ the Porsche?”

“Well yeah, since my motorcycle doesn’t exactly fit two, besides I’m sure Rogue will get a kick out of it.” 

He smirked. “Oh, she sure will.”