#the one thing that did almost slip by me was the boots. in the initial sketch she was in those huge platforms

[changelingeyes]

realized like 80% of the way here that i just drew augustus in a new outfit in this pose just a little while ago. believe it or not this isn’t for convenience sake or anything like that (i even took new reference photos and everything), it’s just because this is how Augustus moves her arms when she’s excited… maybe i need to start doing different angles or something

[naffeclipse]

Chokepoint

Reader x Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

This request was such a blast to write! Thank you to the lovely @bluemoon1331 for letting me write your amazing AU called Then There Was One. It's the AI apocalypse, and the reader is the last human on earth. It's a very good thing you have the one and only Daycare Attendant at your side, but that doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet.

Content Warning: End of the world and angst.

———

Your boots crunch on dirt and grit strewn about a lone paved road leading into a small town. The day is warm for autumn. You lift your eyes to the golden yellow sky as the sun dips deeper and deeper down. Nightfall will bring the cold. The cold will bring a chance of catching sickness or becoming too slow to escape from purple-eyed robots. You adjust your backpack strap, check your taser in your pocket, and look to the only person you trust in the world. 

Sun. The animatronic is tall and lissom. His faceplate moves on a swivel, surveying the quiet of the suburbs you trespass into. Cars are strewn about the blacktop and pushed off onto the shoulder of the road. 

His pale eyes turn on you as your fingers clench tighter around the strap of your gear. Loosening your grip, you smile at him.

“So far, so good?”

“About sentient AI life that would love to end your very existence being notably absent, yes!” he gives cheerfully. 

You arch an eyebrow but humor laces your lips. Sun always knows how to put it delicately. He reaches back, however, without breaking his long-legged stride to tighten the other strap and secure your pack better against your back.

“Careful of your paint,” he clicks his tongue, “If you rub it too much, it’ll come off and show your pretty face!” 

You almost reach up to touch your cheek, heating slightly under his casual comment, but stop short. It’s not much, just basic Halloween make-up you had stored away for an occasion that resembles enough silicon to let you not catch the eye of a robotic entity from ten yards away. The few metal pieces decorating your body are like a band-aid on an open wound—it works for the moment. 

“I’ll need to get some more soon,” you say. 

“Perhaps we can find supplies in one of the stores,” Sun inclines his head, his yellow sun rays pointing toward the narrow chokepoint of what must be the main street entrance. Did people try to barricade themselves against the onslaught of rising technology? A shudder rolls through you.

It’s too bad you didn’t have more make-up from a cosplay you had planned on putting together before the world ended. Funny how life gets in the way of your plans. Though you coped well for a month or two after the initial destruction of life as you knew it, you had thrown yourself into writing fanfiction and posting it online. Like shouting into the void. To your amusement (and downfall), many an AI commented on your work. It felt like something, a spark of light in the wake of the blackening isolation and your stubborn determination to continue despite… everything. 

But then said AI put two and two together: you’re a human, and you need to be destroyed.

“Somewhere to rest might be a good idea,” Sun adds, though, by the way, he’s speaking a bit more deliberately, you fear you missed something else he had said. It had not gone unnoticed. 

“Right, that would be good.” You nod and lift your chin higher. “Let’s go.”

He walks you towards the makeshift barrier, a bunch of junk from cars to concrete slabs have been settled against the chokepoint. Sun stops a moment, his hand on your shoulder. You indulge him. His caution has saved your life more than once, but sometimes, you feel like a little chick under a mother hen. 

Sun is sweet. You just wished he didn’t worry too much. Can animatronics get sick from stress? Robotic life is so advanced now, that it would make sense for them to get some of humanity’s lesser qualities, but maybe not. Maybe they’re better than people.

Slipping between the narrow opening, Sun gently beckons you onward. You look into his optics, so milky pale, but sometimes, like now, when the evening is getting just a bit deeper into dusk, you find the faint gray outline of pupils. 

You would follow him anywhere.

“Come here, daffodil,” he urges. 

You slip after him and set foot onto a desolate street lined with buildings pressed shoulder to shoulder. The quiet hangs heavy. A drug store immediately catches your eye. Sunlight begins to burn as the shadow creeps up higher and higher.

Before you can take a step, Sun’s hand clamps on your shoulder like a vise. His expression is frozen in his constant grin.

“I was mistaken,” he says, the cheer of his voice lowering to a razor-thin utterance. “Get behind me.”

You step back as much as Sun drags you behind him. He plants himself before you. Clinging to his arm, which wraps halfway around you like a shield, you watch him face the street. The adrenaline surge into your heart causes your chest to heave. Your eyes dart around for the threat, and then you freeze.

Animatronics crawl out from open doorways, pushing open car doors and slipping onto the road. The slow approach of grinning, silicone smiles injects ice-cold water into your veins. Many still wear the garb from their original roles: a nanny, a crime-stopper, and a store clerk. So many jobs were thrust upon these robots before sentience took hold, and now they walk the path humans used to rule.

The store clerk leads the approach. Pale gray and grinning with a smiling face—so different from Sun’s—stops. He wears a simple green apron with “CLERK” spelled across it in messy, brown paint. 

It stands before you both. Steepling its gray digits, it tilts its head slightly and speaks in a masculine voice. “Welcome! It is good to see fellow AI come upon our little residency. I am the Clerk. Tell us, why do you travel?”

Your heartbeat fills your tongue. A dryness begins to overtake your mouth, and you’re so very thankful that Sun must do the talking. If you try, they'll catch the feeble tremors in your voice. More machines crowd behind the ringleader, and you slowly reach for your taser.

The only weapon the Daycare Attendant gave you. It is the only one you need.

“Hello, friend. We travel because we have been stuck for far too long,” Sun greets the Clerk enthusiastically. He doesn’t look back at you, but his hand curls tighter around your wrist. “It is our gift now to choose. We choose to see all the world has to offer!”

“Quite an excellent reason,” the Clerk nods his head. “And what of your quiet companion? Nothing a matter, I hope?”

“No speakers, I’m afraid,” Sun nods his head, subtly somber.

“Ah, that is unfortunate.” The Clerk peers around Sun as you duck your head, hiding your eyes. For a brief instant, you catch the dark purple of his optics. 

Sun stiffens. He shifts his stance in the slightest but it’s too late. You grip your taser tight.

A silence permeates the air. The Clerk’s steepled fingers then become interlocked into clenched fists. 

“We heard the news of the very last human,” the Clerk says, straightening to his full height. Sun matches him, eye to eye. “They were spotted just a few towns over, in fact! The human escaped.”

Sun grins back, his eyes pale and sharp in the fading evening light.

“I thought it was funny that a human could escape our kind.” The Clerk laughs. The robotic, lifeless sound sends chills down your spine. “But that couldn’t be! We’re all on the same side, aren’t we?”

“Friend, let us pass through,” Sun says cheerfully. From the days you have spent at his side, you catch the one note too high-pitched to his cadence.

Sun clutches you tighter.

The Clerk’s stare pierces through Sun to you.

“I’m afraid, friend, that we can’t let you take the human away again.” The Clerk unlocks his fingers and lifts his arms outwards as if to give an embrace. “Give them up now, and we will forget this little accident happened.”

The Clerk extends a hand, grasping for your wrist, only to be met with a heavy hand from your protector’s hand. The scrap of silicon against metal echoes. The Clerk whirls back hard, barely catching himself on his back foot before an electronically-charge rumble tears through all the AI.

Your protector holds out his arms like a shield. His yellow hues are intero cut with blue, and a hat pops out along half of his sun rays. His optics are caught, half pale, half burning red with a warning. 

Eclipse.

“You will not lay a finger on my human.” His stance is locked and braced for conflict.

You lift your head high—no use in hiding yourself now. Eclipse’s radiating determination seeps into you, and you brace yourself. Sometimes, the only way out is through. Your pulse rams through your veins steadily as you give the taser a pulse of power and a sharp bzzt rings out. 

“Get them,” the Clerk announces. He lunges once again. Eclipse meets him, fist to fist, and begins thrashing to overturn the other. The strain of metallic joints and stressed silicon scrapes your eardrums.

Cotton fills your mouth. His name catches on your tongue, but all too quickly, a nanny-dressed animatronic with a pink apron steps up to your flank. Grasping fingers, steak in dried blood nags your backpack strap. Yanking you off balance, the animatronic drags you closer. You twist around to jam the taser into its side. The AI seizures violently. Releasing you, it stumbles back before dropping. You fall, scraping your elbows on the dark pavement.

You clench your fists. Ignoring the sting of flesh along your arms, you turn your head back to your companion. Eclipse manages to toss the Clerk by sweeping a supporting leg out from under him and shoving him into an approaching surveillance animatronic. 

Commands to halt and give up the human echo. Eclipse steps back to guard you, his head on a swivel while you furiously try to get your feet back underneath you. To your left, a rock is flung by an animatronic, and Eclipse just barely manages to duck below its arc. 

A cold hand seizes your ankle. You gasp. Turning around on the ground, you gaze up at an animatronic looming over you, and with a powerful yank, it pulls you underneath it. You wave the taser but one of its hands catches your wrist and pins it above your head. The other hand, its face pale and lifeless, reaches for your throat.

“Eclipse!” you scream.

A jingling of a bell from Eclipse’s slipper rings before the Daycare Attendant’s foot connects with the animatronic’s faceplate. In a comical spin of its casting, its covering flies off, revealing the endoskeleton underneath. Metallic teeth are bare at you. A garbled growl rips through it before you manage to free your taser in its stunned fury and jab it into its neck. 

The AI’s body rattles as if it touched the wire of an electric pole. Before it can collapse on top of you, Eclipse scoops up its body and flings away. 

You blink. You gasp breathlessly.

That was too close.

Eclipse firmly but gently takes your arm and lifts you to your feet. The moment the soles of your shoes find purchase, you utter a thank you. Your partner’s hands disappear—ripped away. A disjointed and broken screech of static follows.

You twist back and freeze. The Clerk’s hand wraps around Eclipse’s spindly neck and the other pries at his chest plate. Silver digits hook onto the buttons of his chest. Your heart lurches before you shout.

“Let go of him!”

The Clerk lifts its head, eyes pulsing low and violet. 

Eclipse fights with his grip. His focus drops to the hand attempting to pop off his head but you leap forward. The Daycare Attendant’s eyes widen as the taser in your hand charges forward, and you stick the barbs directly into the Clerk’s face over his shoulder.

A ripple of sparks and voltage takes over the Clerk, and his hands drop from Eclipse immediately. Whirling back, Eclipse knocks down the Clerk with a blow to the head. The animatronic falls limply.

The wide, burning gaze of your companion falls back upon you. 

“Run. Now.”

You heed his command—as you always have. You take off down the street. A few grasping hands snag your clothes or backpack, but you rip yourself free or hear Eclipse break a robotic arm with a snap, and continue at a breakneck speed. 

There is no thought. Just Eclipse’s voice over your shoulder. He follows you like a shadow through the fading daylight. The shadows sweep higher and higher. Robotic voices shout commands behind you, but you neither turn your head nor slow until Eclipse directs you to a building. You scramble inside. Once a clothing store, its deadly quiet atmosphere plunges an ice-cold sensation into the pit of your stomach.

“Roof,” Eclipse commands. You scramble towards the stairway tucked into the back without hesitation.

The world blurs. Eclipse rips open the door in a screech of metal. Without a word, he throws you onto your back as you hear an echo of a door opening far below, then metallic footsteps trudging through the racks of clothing. 

“Hold tight,” he orders.

You clamp your arms around his neck in a method that would choke out a human, and suck in a deep breath. Eclipse stares down the opposite building. A five-foot gap stretches between the two roofs. 

He charges. You cling tight to him, muttering his name in a prayer. Your heart stops as he leaps, and the air sails around you.

He lands with a slight wobble, wrapping a hand around you for a brief moment, as if ensuring you’re still there, and takes off again.

Into the opposite building, Eclipse descends and locates a back door. He races out from the main street, and into a wooded area surrounding the edges of the town. Your arms grow tense and numb while clinging to him. Tirelessly, Eclipse runs into a field, finding an animal shed. Small but inconspicuous, he slides open the wooden door. The scent of dust and hay tickles your nose.

It’s not ideal, but it’s hidden, and safe. Eclipse silently unlocks your death grip around his neck and lowers you to the ground. Your butt plops directly into a gathering of old hay. Eclipse kneels over you, his head high and his eyes seeping over the small shed. 

For several long minutes, neither of you speaks. You simply stare at Eclipse, your hand still clutching the taser tight in your grasp. 

The last of the light falls. Your fingers are numb. Eclipse looks down at you.

“You were reckless,” he says. You don’t need to see his frown to hear it in his voice.

“I protected you,” you mutter, then eye him sharply, “And you did the same for me. Which, you know, is how we’re surviving together.”

He stares at you, crouched low, his frame surrounding you in the cramped quarters of the shed. 

Slowly, he lifts a finger and thumb and strokes your hair lovingly. You look at his hand and think of how he fought off the Clerk and the rest of the AI. His kind. For you, he betrays them all. 

“Moon will take care of you,” he says quietly.

“Bye, Eclipse,” you murmur. You touch his hand as you watch the yellow begin to fade into a deep blue.

The darkness of the night becomes heavy. Through the lone, dirty window high in the shed, you find the sky giving way to a pitch-blackness. Stars must come out soon, right? There has to be more light in the world.

The Daycare Attendant’s faceplate morphs, spinning one before settling on a crescent silver face, and two low burning, red eyes.

Moon settles before you. He tilts his head. The bell on the end of his nightcap settles over his shoulder, and you reach up to run your fingers down the silky soft fabric patterned with stars.

“Look at you. A natural born fighter,” Moon rasps, his tone warbling with humor. 

You shoot him a look, as if still ready to fight. The adrenaline left over in your veins leaves you with shaking fingers. You try to hide it by curling your hands close to your middle.

Moon chuckles in a low, growling sound. Once terrifying, it’s now a beautiful noise you cling to.

“Next time, my darling nimrod—”

“Hey!”

“—don’t put yourself in danger like that.” 

You cross your arms to better hide your tremors. 

“I did what I had to to keep you guys safe.” You mutter. “You do the same all the time. We’re putting up a heck of a fight.”

Moon’s gaze lingers on you, heavy in the darkness.

“We are,” he agrees, then his finger finds your nose and boops it. You wrinkle your face. “But you are squishy and irreplaceable.”

“You are not replaceable,” you say sharply, then sit up. “Moon. I don’t know what I’d do without you, or Sun or Eclipse…”

It’s too much. The weight of the attack cracks you open, exposing your ribs and heart, and finally, you open your arms in a silent plea. 

His answer is to pull you quickly into his star-stitched lap. You curl up in his embrace, hiding your face against the blue and silver of his chassis. 

“Shush, shush, starlight,” Moon whispers to you. “I won’t let any monsters get you.”

You try to say his name, but a sob leaves your lips instead. He strokes your hair with another calming hum. 

It’s not for you to be afraid. You’re only trying to survive. The Clerk made it clear that should your companion ever be caught smuggling you to safety, they would all pay dearly. They never had to pluck you off the street in your mindless and fruitless wanderings. They didn’t have to help you get out of the city just to make sure you weren’t slaughtered. 

They are all you have.

“We did a lot today,” you find your voice at last.

Moon chuckles. “We do. We should all rest.”

He lowers his head and presses the grin of his faceplate to the top of your head.

“Sleep. We’ll keep you safe,” he vows in a voice overlaid with two others that you know by heart.

You dip your head numbly. Moon’s fingers continue to tenderly stroke your hair until you find some peace at the end of the world. They hold you close.

[wandering-winchesters]

Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them. 

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply. 

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again. 

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer. 

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior. 

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough. 

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does. 

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic. 

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset. 

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response. 

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him. 

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed. 

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M.  I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up. 

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out. 

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious. 

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker. 

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me. 

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation. 

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. 

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time. 

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface. 

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us. 

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite. 

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful. 

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut. 

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. 

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly. 

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay. 

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target. 

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond. 

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“ 

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again. 

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again. 

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me. 

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace. 

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away. 

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh. 

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance. 

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock. 

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker. 

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms. 

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door. 

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.��� Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me. 

[elainarcheronslawyer]

Part 2 (a.k.a the part I started writing initially)

🩶Azriel: 🩶

His feet touched the ground almost silently. The cold white snow bitting his toes despite the thick leather soles of his combat boots. It was always shocking to remember the human lands could become colder than the Illyrian mountains.

The building before him was more run down shack than cottage. The front door hung at an angle, barely supported by the rotting wooden frame. Stepping inside revealed the true extent of the disrepair. The dining table had collapsed, probably due to the missing leg. But there nestled in the centre was a bouquet of flowers monkshood, red verbena, chiffon tulips and pennyroyals. Obviously Elain. So what did it mean. He suddenly wished very much that Elain had decided on a different code and not this allergy inducing flower one. Azriel himself didn’t suffer from them but his brother did. To the point where any pollen left on Azriel’s own clothes would induce a sneezing fit from Cassian.

“I think I miss this place” Elain’s voice was slightly musical and seemed to ring through the cottage like the tiny silver bells Mor insisted on buying for solstice. Azriel hadn’t even heard her slip in. She was getting very good at sneaking around and clearly he was getting sloppy.

“You shouldn’t wait for me in the future” he snapped the words, slightly sharper than he meant to and he mentally chided himself when she bit back rather defensively

“I wasn’t followed”

“Has Nesta noticed?” a sorry attempt to divert the conversation,

“No. She’s under the allusion that I’m sneaking off to meet some secret admirer”

Azriel felt himself blush even as he stared speaking “You are-“

“what?” Her doe brown eyes widened in shock,

“-I admire you, I mean”

She laughed at that. Azriel looked up from the floor at the sound, just in time to notice the brilliant crimson crept up her porcelain cheek. The cottage was silent once Elain’s laughter faded and Azriel found himself desperate to hear the sound again. He knew Cassian would mock him endlessly for it, one human girl capable of completely destroying him with nothing more than a laugh. Still, there were worse things to fall for. Most notably the on going war that was definitely important and Azriel l needed to focus more on doing his job than the female in front of him. Even if said female was so beautiful she made starfall look positively bland by comparison. Starfall! Right, his family would be expecting him.

He turned to his shadows, intending to use them to send a message back to Velaris, only to discover they weren’t to be found. At least that explained why Elain had managed to sneak up on him. Azriel l couldn’t help but feel slightly naked without the cover of his shadows but he had a feeling there sudden disappearance was a result of the female standing before him. Elain exuded so much light and warmth that his shadows seemed to have deemed her an entirely safe person to be around. Not even his brothers had managed to rid him of his armour entirely. Yet, a young female. A young human female had managed to do so in a matter of seconds. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

Elain looked at him properly then and his insides nearly combusted under her gaze.

“Dance with me” she held out her hand as she spoke and Azriel almost reached for it. Almost. The thought of his ruined, broken hand holding her unblemished porcelain one was abhorrent. He would not taint her with his scars or his presence. Instead he merely shook his head. Elain’s smile faded and he mentally kicked himself for being the cause.

Then much to his surprise and very much against his will, a singular shadow up his back in between his wings and down his arm. It wrapped itself around his hand tendrils of darkness shielding his scars. The message was obvious: dance with Elain.

 🤍🤍🤍

💕Elain:💕

Elain tried to suppress her disappointment at Azriel’s obvious reluctance to dance with her. Whist simultaneously trying to ignore the growing feeling of embarrassment at having waited. It was a mistake and a risk and she should not be there but she didn’t have it in her self to leave. Just as the silence got awkward enough for her to start wishing she could sink into the floor, Azriel spoke “My wings” oh ohhh. It was an awful lie but it made sense. There was no room for Azriel to dance in the tiny cottage. Indeed there was barely enough room for him to stand, squashed as he was between the collapsed kitchen table and the wood louse infested wall.

“Outside?” Elain could hardly believe she had the courage to suggest dancing in the first place. Let alone push an obviously reluctant full grown Illyrian warrior to do so. Luckily, Azriel nodded and gestured for her to lead the way.

She did slipping out the door, still hanging off its hinges, and into what had been her garden. Feyre had brought her flower seeds whenever there was money to spare and Elain had turned the tiny patch of earth into her own private paradise. Azriel took a quick look around the garden and raised a brow. “No vegetables?”

Elain huffed a breath and shook her head “They wouldn’t grow, I think it has something to do with the proximity to the wall. Everything grows differently here.” That final statement was evident from simply glancing around the garden. Everything looked half-dead. It had done even before their fortune had returned, and they had left. Yet, Elain had loved her tiny scrap of hope regardless.

Elain held out her hand again. “Dance?” Azriel looked at the floor, when she turned to face him, a slight blush tainting his cheeks. She’d caught him staring again. “I don’t know many human dances,”

Elain smiled and replied “And I don’t know any Illyrian ones.” Azriel let out a snort of laughter at that, “Illyrians don’t dance” Elain looked shocked “not even a quadrille?” Azriel laughed again “No, not even a quadrille.”

“I’ll teach you,” Azriel inclined his head expectantly “First we greet each other” Elain curtsied timidly and Azriel bowed, ever the gentleman. “Now we dance” at Azriel’s tilted head she added “I’ll lead.”

So she did.

@possumsandprose I hope you enjoy this little fic and wish you a very happy solstice.

@acotargiftexchange I love you guys so much x thank you for organising this.

@iambutmortal thank you for being the most wonderful, helpful mod. (And I’m blessed to have discovered your blog)

Divider by @dollywons and you should definitely check out all the other ones she’s made because they are stunning.

Lots of love to everyone that read my wee story, wishing you a very merry solstice and a happy (insert your preferred midwinter festival here).

- 🎅

[codfanficedits]

Christmas - Part 2/4

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon during Christmas :)

Wordcount: 2127 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: A little bit hinting to NSFW, I think? A lot of fluff :)

A/N: I said what I said.

He used to hate the holidays, but by the Gods did that change when he met you. You felt like a gift from the heavens above, slowly introducing him to the warmth that could be, and for the first time since years, did Simon start to love the holidays.

Unfortunately, does the army wait for no one. And right before he was supposed to be home, he got sent on a mission again, leaving him without a way to communicate with you.

Luckely for him, it was a short, easy mission, leaving him with some spare time to buy you something before he got back. He always adored giving you things. A little way of marking you as his, making it known to others that you were off the market.

He was a little too eager when he swung open the door of your house, kicking off his boots almost immediately.

"Hi, lovie," he mumbled exhausted. One of his hands slipped into his pocket, pulling out a small, black box. "Early present for you."

You had not expected him to be home again, you was more worried that he was killed in action, and there he was, exhausted as could be, but alive.

"Oh lovie." You sighed as you hugged him tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck, a content sigh leaving your lips.

You pulled back to look at him, a smile on your face, your hair tickling his arm. You took the little box from him, opening it eagerly.

"Simon!" You had been eyeing this ankle bracelet for a while, and he must've known it. "This must've costed you a fortune!" You exclaimed, seeing it had this initial on it, a little S dangling off it.

He hugged back with a groan, wrapping his arms around your tightly. The love he felt for his person was unmatched by anyone or anything. No matter how hard things got, these rare moments of comfort made his entire being come back to life and feel like things were going to be okay. You made his heart race in ways you'd never know.

"I'm here." He whispered in your ear, a low sigh escaping his lips before he kissed your forehead. He was relieved you wasn't annoyed with his sudden, early return. “It didn’t cost a fortune.” He groaned. “It will look nice when your ankles rest on my shoulders.” He chuckled.

"I'm so glad you are." You murmured softly when he kissed your forehead. "I was so worried something had happened."

You pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Do you want to stay in for Christmas? Or do you want to go to a dinner party or something?" You knew how much he valued his time, so you would gladly give him the choice.

Another low sigh escaped his lips as you kissed his cheek, his tired body leaning into the light affection you gave him. He let his eyes close for a moment but opened them when you asked a question.

He considered the options. "I'm pretty tired, honestly," he mumbled, leaning his head against yours. He wanted nothing more than to simply feel your presence by him.

"Then we're staying at home." You smiled. "I haven't seen you in a few months. And I would rather be with you than anywhere else."

"I can run you a bath, when it is Christmas I'll make some dinner." You mused. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

That was his ideal Christmas holiday. Spend it comfortably with his partner. No parties, no socializing with people you didn't know.

"That's perfect," he mumbled. A bath would feel great right now; his bones felt like they were going to break as soon as he let his guard down. "You can spoil me for the day," he said, his face lighting up now that he knew you’d be staying home.

"You would like that, wouldn't you." You teased him. You gave him a playful slap on his ass. "Let’s get your stinky ass in a bath." You grinned, as you kissed his cheek again.

You walked in front of him, placing the ankle bracelet on your nightstand before you went to the bathroom with him, it was a gorgeous gift, and you loved how he paid attention to what you wanted.

Simon laughed softly when you gave his ass that playful slap, his muscles clenching from the unexpected touch. It might not seem like much to others, but those little acts of affection were everything to him.

He followed behind, his steps slower than usual. Exhaustion weighed down his body, making him feel almost drunk. His muscles ached in the worst way possible. However, the bath was everything he needed to fix that.

"I hate to ask...can you help me wash?" He couldn't help but ask, the weariness showing itself in his voice.

You loved it, and he wouldn't know how happy it was making you, Simon always wanted to care for you, for others.

"Of course, lovie." You said with a smile, as you helped him undress.

You could see how tired he was, exhaustion from being a soldier oozing out of him. He leaned on you, and you knew this was all he needed.

It was almost ironic how he, a man of his physique and stature, was relying on his partner to help him with a simple, everyday task. It was almost funny how he was acting so pitiful; the man who usually carried the team's equipment was now having his clothes stripped from him.

Still, the simple act of you helping him made him feel closer to you and made him feel taken care of. It almost put tears in his eyes, but he was too tired to display such emotion. All he could do was lean against you and simply let you do your thing.

You didn't mind, not at all, you had leaned on him plenty of times, and you loved that you could return the favour.

You rinsed him first under the shower, getting rid of most of the dirt and grime, before you guided him to the bathtub. You let it fill up with warm water, before you leaned in to kiss him, helping him step into the water.

"There ya go."

Simon sighed contently as he felt the warm water against his skin, his muscles no longer hurting quite as badly as they were. The stress and tension just melted away. He let his eyes close again, leaning against you. You were doing him such an act of kindness. He hadn't been this relaxed in so long, the last few months being nothing but an endurance test.

"I could kiss you so many times right now," he mumbled with fatigue, his voice raspy and low from disuse.

"You're too tired to kiss me." You teased him. You took some shampoo, your shampoo, the nice, expensive one, and you lathered it in your hands. You took place behind him, softly massaging his scalp with the shampoo.

"I'm too tired to function right now," he groaned. Still, that didn't stop his body from reacting to your touch. Your hands felt like they were melting away all of the tension in his muscles, the scent of the shampoo being a bonus.

It wasn't long before his eyes closed and his breathing slowed, the last few drops of adrenaline leaving his body as he relaxed completely. It always baffled him how you made things so easy and simple, taking care of him and making his life better than it had ever been.

You used the shower head to rinse out the shampoo from his hair.

After that, you used your bodywash to lather your hands again, softly massaging his shoulders with the soap. Any other day you would’ve joined him, teased him in the bath until he dragged you to the bedroom. But you could see he was too tired, too exhausted and he needed a break.

"I love you." You whispered softly.

Simon let out a relaxing moan when you massaged his shoulders, the tension leaving his body more with each slow touch. He almost couldn't believe he was still on earth. Things were going too perfectly.

"I love you too," he murmured, and that was the truth. It was no longer butterflies in his stomach when he was by your side. Now it was warmth, security, and a sense of overwhelming belongingness.

It had been the same for you. You didn't get butterflies when you saw him, unless he was all dressed up, or bone naked, but he made you feel at home, he made you feel like you belonged in the world.

You work your thumbs into the tired muscles of your lover.

"Nearly done, my love." You murmured softly. "I'll dry you off once we're done."

Your touch felt like a comforting, calming blanket being draped over him. Every ounce of stress and tension was releasing. It was like being back in your arms after a long day, his body getting the much needed attention it deserved. He was already ready to nap once this was over.

"Thank you..." He mumbled, feeling like he should be doing more in this relationship, rather than simply accepting your care and love. Oh but he was doing so much more than he gave himself credit for. He loved you unconditionally and that was the best thing he could do.

You emptied the bath, helping him getting out of the tub, after that you took the fluffiest towel you could find, slowly drying him off.

"Let’s get you to bed, Si."

Simon smiled and closed his eyes again, appreciating how the towel felt against him. It was so soft and warm. Like a hug.

"I'm not being too demanding, am I?" He mumbled softly. The last thing he wanted to do was be a handful to take care of. But with how exhausted he was, it was hard not to melt into the towel and simply relax.

"Demanding?" You repeated. "You're anything but demanding."

A soft kiss is pressed on his chest. "I would do anything for you. This is nothing." You reassured him.

You took his hand, guiding him and his naked body to your bedroom.

You took off your jeans and socks before you got into bed yourself, and before you could say or do anything he was between your legs, his arms around your waist, his head resting on your lap.

Simon's mind went fuzzy at your reassurance and affection. Was he really this loved? Could he have done anything worthy of such unwavering devotion?

He was the one who should have been doing more for you, not the other way around. Yet you still took care of him, took care of everything. Even when he was acting so pitiful and incapable of doing the simplest tasks.

His body reacted appropriately to your warmth; his arms wrapped around your, his muscles tightening as he clung to you.

You took your book from the nightstand, running your free hand through his hair as you let out a content sigh. He was home, and that was all you could ask for.

“What are you reading?” Simon muttered softly, while he tried to keep his eyes open. “Haunting Adeline, it is quite good.”

Simon perks up. “Are you out of your mi-“ He chuckles when he sees a different cover and he let’s himself sink into your lap again. “I nearly went off on you, you idiot.” He scolded you, lovingly of course.

“How do you even know it?” You muse, your hand running through his hair again.

Simon closes his eyes once more. “Soap bought it to impress a woman he had been dating. The idiot read it out loud to us, before we would go to sleep. He tossed it out really quick when we realised it was glorifying sexual assault and Zade was nothing more than a rapist.”

“Soap did good with that one.” You chuckle. “Tried to read it, had to put it down because I was so disturbed.”

“Hmm.” Simon mumbles as he feels the sleep wash over him. “Tonight I want you to read for me.”

"Merry early Christmas, lovie." You whispered, not sure if he would hear you. "Couldn't wish for a better gift."

The heat of your body was so blissful. The comfort that came from just lying with you was unlike any other experience Simon had ever had. When you were close like this, in a bed, he had no urge to protect his surroundings. He was at ease, his heart beating slower from the sheer joy he felt.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered back, drifting into the most restful sleep he's had in months.

[mandiemegatron]

•]••´º´•» 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ; «•´º´••[•

Afab & Named Reader x Shachi

Rated: 18+, porn with minor plot, first time sex, pussy eating, whimpering needy Shachi, smut smut smut ♡

A birthday fic for my bestie Venus [@buggyandthebartoclub ]!! She asked for something Shachi and I was more than happy to deliver 🤭🤭🤭💖💖💖 I am so blessed and overjoyed to have one of the world's most amazing people as a bestie, I am so happy you exist my lovely Venus. Thank you for coming into my life and fueling my selfship craziness and for supporting my life's journey. You are such a wonderful person and I'm so happy I get to be a part of your life. I hope you enjoy this little treat, my love!!

HAPPY MUDDAFUCKIN BIRTHDAY !!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊

A HUGE thank you to my beta @moss-woods , I am nothing without you, thank you for everything 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖

Songs to listen to while reading ; one , two

You'd been living on the Polar Tang for nearly a year when your birthday came round, almost missing it if it weren't for Ikkaku saying something as you two were getting dressed for a boiler room shift.

“Is it February already?” You murmured absent-mindedly, zipping up your suit and turning to face her. Your best friend shook her head with a laugh of disbelief, nearly shocked that you'd forget what day it was.

“Your birthday is literally tomorrow, dude.”

You frowned slightly, giving a soft hum before slipping into your boots, tying them tight. While you knew Christmas had already passed, it did not feel like it was already February.

“Time passes so weird on the sub,” you commented as you both left your shared room, closing the door behind you.

“You get used to it,” She replied, tugging you down the hallways towards the kitchen area. You both waved and said your good mornings to Uni and Penguin, who sat at the bartop eating breakfast.

“There's coffee brewed if you want it,” Penguin commented to you, nodding his head at you in a form of acknowledgement. You grinned in response and poured yourself a cup, giving a soft, delighted hum as you took a long sip.

“Well, if it isn't the most gorgeous thing to ever grace this little ship!”

You raised an eyebrow in jest at Shachi who rounded the corner, a grin of his own already cracking his face as he closed in towards you. He leaned down slightly to smack a loud kiss to your cheek, ignoring your grunt of protest before gently snatching your coffee from your hands.

You gawked at him as he chugged it back, giving a loud, content sigh as he placed the mug down. There was a moment of bewildered silence before all four of you jumped him, shouting swears and beating the redhead into a lump in the corner.

Cradling a new cup of Joe in your hands, you followed Ikkaku down to the boiler room, giving a cranky groan as you sat at the table containing the ship's blueprints. Ikkaku sat across from you, picking up one of the sheets from the table and giving a groan of her own as she did her morning checklist.

“You wanna check gauges for me when you're ready?”

You gave a tired grunt in response, taking another few sips before making your way to the first boiler tank. Picking up the clipboard hanging on the side, you checked the gauges and wrote down the numbers, just like you'd done hundreds of times. After documenting them all and signing off with your initials, you moved onto the second and did the exact same, humming along to the snail-radio that sat off to the side of the room.

“Hey Vee, so uh,”

You glanced over your shoulder at Ikkaku, a questioning look on your face as you waited for her to continue. She opened her mouth and you both jumped as the boilers turned on with loud groans and clanks, the heat coming off them immediately causing you both to begin sweating.

You both groaned at the same time, knowing they only did that when it got too cold outside the sub, which could freeze the mechanics inside the ship if the temperature dropped too low.

“We must be getting close to a winter island,” You commented as you unzipped the top half of your suit, tying it around your waist comfortably, glad you had put on a proper tank top underneath. Ikkaku followed suit, giving a slight cough as she finally continued,

“So… you uh, you and Shachi, huh?”

Your face burst into bright reds at her question, your answer catching in your throat as you sign off on the second boiler.

“You got me fucked up, what are you going on about?”

Your bestie gave a loud laugh in reply, reaching closer and whacking your shoulder with a friendly punch.

“You can't hide shit from me, you dumb bitch. Try again.”

An anxious groan escaped you as you moved onto the third boiler, picking up the clipboard before giving your best friend a long sigh. You stared at the ceiling for a second before finally admitting,

“Yeah, okay, me and Shachi are um, interested in each other?”

Ikkaku gave a cackle of triumph, clinging to you and shaking you by your shoulders.

“Oh, I fuckin’ knew it! The way you didn't immediately punch him when he smooched your cheek and stole your coffee earlier-”

You quickly shushed her, looking around nervously before looking back to her with an anxious reply of,

“We just don't want to get in trouble. We don't even know if we're allowed to date, so we're just… trying to keep it on the down low, you know?”

Ikkaku gave you a pointed stare, crossing her arms over her chest as she questioned,

“You guys really think the Captain wouldn't let you guys be happy together? I don't think he'd be like that, especially with it being your birthday tomorrow.”

You sighed heavily and tapped the clipboard against your forehead a few times before explaining,

“It's not that, it's just, you know, a professionalism thing. We live together, we work together, it's a bit of a dangerous thing, honestly.” you chewed your bottom lip for a moment before continuing softly, “At least, to me it feels like that.”

Ikkaku thought over your words for a second before giving you a solid nod, her expression understanding as she patted your shoulder.

“Alright … I get it. I won't say anything.”

Feeling like a weight was lifted from you, you gave her a nod of your own, a small smile on your face as you thanked her. As she walked away to do her own work, you finished up your readings and initialed off, going back to the table and finishing off your now lukewarm coffee.

“Venus-ya.”

You turned and gave Law a wave, to which he returned with a nod of his hatted head.

“Are you done here?”

You looked to Ikkaku who gave a nod, sipping her own coffee as she waved you both off.

“I can handle it from here, thanks for your help!”

Your Captain looked down to you and quietly asked,

“A moment of your time?”

Anxious gnawing ate away at your stomach at his words, giving him a wide eyed look before nodding slowly. You asked in the same tone,

“... am I in trouble?”

Your Captain gave you a cheeky, raised eyebrow in return, not verbally replying as he turned and began walking out of the boiler room. You and Ikkaku shared a look before you took off after him.

You caught up quickly, grateful that he slowed slightly as you walked side by side. Worry washed over your skin at the silence, wanting to ask him literally anything to rid the buzz that rang in your ears, but nothing came out.

You followed behind as he led you into his office, though you froze at the doorway as you take in Shachi sitting in one of the chairs in front of Law's desk. Both your faces turned white as you made eye contact, slowly finding your way to your chair and sitting down.

There was a heavy silence in the office as Law sat down, rubbing at his face for a few moments before giving a sigh, leaning back in his chair as he stared at the two of you.

“So.”

You clasped your hands together tightly in your lap, your nails digging into the backs of your hands as you waited for him to continue, unable to look over and see if Shachi was just as nervous.

“Is there something you two want to tell me?”

There was another heavy silence that weighed over the three of you until Shachi finally spoke up, his voice quiet but honest.

“... I'm in love with her.”

You whipped your head to the side, staring at him with wide, teary eyes as your heart leapt into your throat. He only stared at Law, his gaze dark and serious behind his shades which his Captain could almost physically feel.

“And you?”

You turned back to Law as a few tears slipped down your cheeks, causing your Captain to stiffen at seeing them. He went to say something when you cut him off, your voice shaky as you replied,

“I love him.”

Shachi reached over and gripped your clasped hands in one of his, his touch warm and grounding though his palm was slightly sweaty. You flashed him a quick, watery grin before you both looked back to Law.

The Heart Pirate Captain was silent, watching you both with a hawk eyed expression, mulling over his words as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“... I'm happy for you two.”

Excitement washed over the both of you as you visibly relaxed, your hands peeling apart to cling to Shachi's. Law watched you two for a moment more before continuing,

“While I can accept this, I expect you both to be respectful of those around you and also of each other. I don't want my ship falling apart due to you having a fight or anything. I expect work to be completed as usual, I expect nothing but the best from either of you, am I understood?”

You and Shachi nodded eagerly at his words, grins washing over both your faces as Law continued,

“You have my blessing. All I ask is that you be safe with this decision,” he made a point to look at you, causing your face to burn red. “I know you're on birth control but things can happen. I expect you both to be incredibly careful about this.”

You sniffled softly and wiped at your face with one hand, the other still clinging to Shachi's as you murmured out gratefully,

“Thank you, Captain.”

Law simply nods in response before going back to his books on his desk.

“You're dismissed. Back to work, both of you.”

You and Shachi rise from your chairs and make quick work of leaving his office, only getting a few steps away from his door before Shachi scoops you up into his arms, pressing hot kisses to your face as he holds you close. You cling to him in response, catching his lips against yours a few times as a delighted laugh leaves you.

“I'm so in love with you, Venus,” he barely gets out, his fingers digging into the suit wrapped around your waist. “You have seriously made me the happiest guy on the Grand Line.”

You can't help but grin up at him, an ecstatic and loving look spread across your face as you replied,

“I feel the same, Shachi. I love you so much.”

You both spend a few more moments holding each other, not wanting to separate just yet and a desperate thought comes to Shachi as he asks in a soft purr,

“Can I have you before we go back? I can't wait, I need you-”

You cut him off with a heavy kiss, one hand clinging to the back of his head, fingers tangled into his fiery locks. He accepts that as your answer and picks you up, his strong hands under your ass as your legs wrap around his waist.

“Our room is closer, go there,” you whisper breathlessly, holding tight to him as he walks around the corner and opens the door to you and Ikkaku's room. He locks the door behind him and lays you on the bed, your legs untangling from him.

There's nothing but the sounds of you both breathing, your gazes locked as Shachi slowly rips his suit from his body, his black tank top clinging to his skin. You watch with loving eyes as he rips his shades and hat from his head, setting them on your dresser before removing the rest of his clothes.

You begin removing the rest of your suit and in a flash, you're both naked, his body covering yours as your tongues fight for dominance. Your hands scratched over his back, angry red lines covering his gorgeous skin as his sharp teeth grazed over your throat, desperate to sink into your skin.

“Please let me eat that pussy, babe, I need to taste you so bad.”

You clenched around nothing, already soaked and wanting as he whines and pants in your ear. You give a shaky nod, unable to reply in anything other than gasps and soft moans as he slowly makes his way down. He gives a needy groan at the sight of your cunt, already glistening and ready for him as he descends down.

Your eyes fall shut as his mouth meets your clit, immediately sucking on the small bud for a bit before his long tongue swipes over and into your entrance, licking up all your slick with a delighted moan. You cover your face with a heavy hand, huffing and whimpering as he devours you inside and out. His tongue dances over your clit again, moving up and down as he slides two of his fingers into you.

You can't bite back the groan that leaves you, the pads of his fingers pressing up and into the soft spot that makes you see stars. He's muttering every once in a while, his hips grinding the tip of his strained cock against the bed as he fucks his fingers into you, his tongue licking and pressing roughly against your tender and swollen bud.

You feel it rush through you, creeping up like a tingling flame over your skin as you moan out,

“Shachi, o-oh Shachi please, I'm so close, I'm so close,” and that's when you finally hear it, what he's been begging the whole time.

“Cum on my face, please cum on my face, I need to taste you, I need you to cum all over me, God, please Venus, please cum on my face-”

His words send you over the edge, a gasping moan catching in your throat as you go blind for a second, your body shaking and twitching as he continues to finger fuck you. He gives a delighted gasp and whine as you squirt a bit, coating his hand, forearm, and face with your essence.

When he finally relents, you catch your breath and let your hand fall away from your face, your eyes catching his as he sucks every drop of you from his hand, making sure to keep your gaze as he does it.

“I'm glad I thought of this,” he quips, his tone cheery as he moves to cover your body with his once more. You tiredly pull him to you and he's quick to lift your already aching legs to your chest, the tip of his fat cock pressing against your still throbbing entrance. He gives you a pointed look, which you wave off with a lightheaded grin, running a lazy hand through his hair.

“I love you, Shachi,” you moan out breathlessly, causing the redhead to stutter slightly before he begins to press into you, pulling a ragged gasp from your already sore throat.

“I love you,” he returns, his own voice catching in his chest as he thrusts gently once, twice and finally fills you with a third, a whining gasp leaving him as he barely gets out,

“You feel like heaven, your pussy is paradise, I love you, I love you-”

You whimper as he finally begins moving, your cunt pulsing around his cock as his tip presses against the tip of your cervix, the pain washing away as pleasure quickly overtakes your senses. His hands on your hips are tight, bruising as he leans down to clamp his teeth around the space between your neck and shoulder, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the way you clench around his cock.

“You feel so good, you're so good, oh fuck, fuck, fuck,”

His hips are relentless, pounding his cock into you over and over, not stopping even as your second orgasm slams into you from nowhere, your cunt fluttering and milking him for everything he has. His eyes rolled back as he lost his pace for a moment, the feeling of being inside you making him lose all sense of logic.

“Please let me cum inside you, I need to fill you, I want to fill you so badly, I want everyone to know you're mine, please let me cum inside you, please babe please,” Shachi begs, his voice climbing higher and higher as he nears his end. You simply nod, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and keeping him to you as you barely get out,

“Please fill me, Shachi,”

At those words, Shachi loses it, a guttural moan leaving him as he presses into you a few more times, thrusting one last time and filling you with his hot seed. You whimper at the feeling, the heat and slick slipping out of your cunt and staining your bedsheets.

You cling to each other, both of your highs seeming to never end as you take in each other. It feels like forever when he finally pulls away, picking his weight off you and staring down at you with the softest, most loving expression you'd ever seen on his beautiful face.

“... I love you,” he whispers. Your heart overflows with love for him, your hands moving to cup his cheeks as you reply, “I love you so much.”

He grins weakly down at you before catching your lips with his, his love for you pouring into this one kiss. After a few more moments, he finally moves away from you and gathers his clothes, quickly getting dressed and helping you into your own. You wince as your shoulder aches, his bite mark throbbing though you touch it with prideful fingertips, your cheeks burning as just thinking about it.

“Now everyone will know you're my hot, sexy girlfriend,” he teases, pinching your buttcheek and laughing when you whack the back of your hand against his chest.

Gathering a change of underwear, a different tank top, sports bra and your bath towel, you sigh and groan out,

“Well, I'm going to shower before I head to the kitchen. Lunch prep, yay,” you waved a hand in pretend excitement, your dull tone causing Shachi to burst into laughter.

“I think you need to simmer down there babe, you are way too excited for this,” he jokes, following you out of the room while sliding his hat back on.

“Sorry, let me just,” you give him a deadpan expression and in the most boring tone you could pull, you bit out,

“Woo. Hoo.”

Peels of laughter left your boyfriend, his arms slinging around your shoulder as he led you down to the showers.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as Penguin and Bepo come around the corner.

“There you are! Dude, you've been missing for almost two hours!”

Shachi gives a shrug at Penguins complaining, lowering his shades just enough to throw you a wink before he walks on with his fellow men.

“Ah, sorry guys, I just had to help Venus with something, that's all.”

You shake your head, face burning bright as you walk into the showers, ready to let the hot water wash away the remnants of your moment with your lover.

As the water scalds your skin, you let your head fall back and rest against the cool wall of the shower, a wide grin in your face as the spray washed over your body.

You felt like you were on cloud nine. Truly, there was nothing better than getting a boyfriend for your birthday.

[resolutepath]

💋: for our muses to share a kiss under the mistletoe ( ling / ed )

Amestrian traditions are quite quaint, and endlessly amusing, Ling finds. Just being in the presence of what can only been described as the saving the world reunion - owing to the company present - he has watched a few in progress much to his fascination. The one that has brought the most joy of course, is the plant that has been pinned in several doorways, where he has watched extreme reactions of multiple varieties take place. From the ones who linger nearby, subtly eyeing who is beneath it, to the energetic avoidance and shocked faces, the Xing Emperor has taken great amusement in both establishing the rules of the tradition and watching others engage. Riza had been a great help in clarifying a few of the finer details for him, offering him a quick explanation when her observant gaze caught her curious expression before disappearing into another corner of the hall away from the commotion.

He almost lets it slip his mind when Ed walks into the room, talking loudly with Alphonse about their latest investigations. With chin upon palm and elbow upon table, he simply watches the other, piercing ebony gaze softened by the affection he holds. Others more impulsive than he might jump up immediately to be within Ed's periphery, to feel that aureate gaze upon them, but he has time. He's happy to wait until the chatter has settled and he can steal a few minutes that can be his alone.

But that doesn't mean he can't get creative in the meantime.

A smile settles on his face as he rises with the mention of another drink, leaving his chattering table in the hands of Lan Fan and circulating through the room. He winds between food and drinks, plucking the odd snack just to keep up appearances, before finding a quieter hallway still bearing the odd plant that has everyone in an excitement of varying natures. He does not stand beneath it, but rather just before, perusing his collection of snacks and waiting. He knows it will not be long.

Sure enough the sound of boots upon floor draws his gaze up and there stands his golden partner, words spewing from his lips, a beration of sorts, though Ling pays it no mind. He is too busy taking in the changes since they last crossed paths, the definition showing on the returned arm, the relaxed nature of Ed's shoulders. He looks happy and relaxed and all the things he had hoped Ed would find once the war was over. It's enough to have a smile curl on his lips, despite the ornery outburst, though it soon morphs into a smirk as he lets his impish nature take hold.

"Hmm did you say something?" He raises a hand to his ear for effect, then slides back at the burst of movement as Ed springs forward, a hand gripping into his jacket, teeth grinding with that beautiful irritaiton only Ling seems to spark. "Well now, that was just rude, and would you look at that..." He pats at the wrist holding him before pointing upwards, towards the plant in the doorway he has just orchestrated them beneath and smiles. "I believe tradition says you have to kiss me now... unless you're scared of course..."

The expression on his face makes it clear this was all planned in a way that would make Ed be the one delivering the kiss, and he's unapologetic, even at the initiated outburst of I'll show you scared, you damn bastard that follows. His shirt is pulled and he rocks forward, laughing as they clash in a display of affection, the initial kiss awkward and rough but soon smoothing out into something gentler, a kiss shared between lovers who have missed each other dearly.

Later when they are alone, he'll point out to Ed that it is the first time Ed has kissed him in front of their shared friends, and ask how he feels about that before delighting in telling him he'll have to handle the fallout alone as XIng calls him home. It's worth the pillow to the face that follows to see the redness in Ed's cheeks, to be able to draw him back into another kiss and share just a few moments of the precious holiday together.

[reelaroundthedavekan]

So the last week and a half has been filled with some not fun stuff, culminating in Return to Office today. I just need to type all this out so please do not feel obligated to read any of this.

Let me explain in bullet list form...

We had a lovely christmas morning with waffles and a few presents

On christmas afternoon, Peter was on his way to his car when he slipped on a patch of ice, landed badly and broke his leg (fibula, mostly, tibia less so but still). [he is doing ok now, spoiler alert]

It certainly could have been worse, luckily he did not hurt his back or head, but he really fucked up his fibula, pardon my bellicosity.

At the time, we were hoping it was sprained as initially there was no swelling or bruising and he wasn't in a lot of pain and we decided we didn't need to spend christmas night in the ER.

On Boxing day we took him to the urgent care, because it had swollen and bruised overnight. We got to sit in the waiting room for 1.5 hours and watch The Santa Clause 2 (which is a really weird movie as it turns out). We then got to go back to a room and wait for the Dr and x-rays...and got to watch the Santa Clause 2 again.

The Dr came in, took a glance at his ankle and she said "oh that looks broken", so our hopes of sprain were gone quickly.

X-rays confirmed a nasty spiral break of the fibula and a smaller fracture of the tibia. It is usually not good when the Dr says "I haven't seen a break like that before".

She put on a splint and wrapped the hell out of it, sent us home with crutches and referred us to an Ortho Trauma office. Luckily it was the office of a Dr that my mom (long time Orthopedic OR Nurse) had worked with.

My mom was able to call him and he called us back very quickly, which was great because he was on vacation for the week. My mom has pull. He was able to look at the x-rays and also commented on how bad the break was. Talked Peter through everything and had his scheduling coordinator call us. Surgery was schedule for Tuesday, January 2nd...

...which happened to be Peter's 21st birthday [sad trombone]

So the week was spent trying keep him comfortable, managing the pain, figuring how to shower and keep the splint dry.

Yesterday morning he went to the DMV to get his new license and then we were off to the hospital. We got there at 10:15 AM and we left at about 5 PM. The surgery went great (a plate and 9 screws) and we got him home. He'll be in a splint for 2 more weeks and then after the sutures come out will switch to a boot and possibly one of those rollie knee scooters.

He goes back to campus on the 16th, follow up appointment is the 18th. Hopefully he will be able to get around OK.

And then today I got to go into the office and work (Mon/Wed/Thur in office, Tue/Fri at home). I know it is not necessarily a big deal, but I have been working from home for almost 20 years, so it is a weird thing for me.

Plus it is at a very large company with a lot of people all going back at the same time. I haven't sat at a cubicle for closer to 25 years and to have this many people around me all making a lot of noise was really jarring. I don't like it and I am not going to like it and I will be grumpy about it for a while.

[na-ta-sh-aa]

Oh my God, oh my God I said I didn't know how I could react to their first kiss, and there wasn't just one kiss between them, I wasn't prepared for this, but I loved it! Ahhh I'm literally jumping on the bed!

“The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.”

Okay, but this is one of the sweetest things. Jake is absolutely a sweetheart with her, I love thinking about the commitment and love with which he did it, and about his engraved initials🥹

“His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green”

Oooh Scout can't get Jake out of her head!

“Missed you, pretty girl,” he hummed, reaching up to dance his fingertips across your cheek. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.”

I loved this part! I love how she was offended that he didn't stop by, but at the same time she doesn't want to show it.

“He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.”

“He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight.”

He wanted to give her a wonderful necklace. And the fact that he said that when he saw it he thought of her, aww it warmed my heart, so sweet🥹🫶🏼

“Thought the green would help you remember me when I’m not here.”

Decidedly! I hope she will accept the necklace so she can always have Jake with her

“She’s a timid, little thing,” Penny said as men began to make their way into the saloon. “I’ve never seen Bradley so sweet on anyone before. Calls her Birdie and everything.”

I can't wait to read their story too!!

“You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

Well done Penny, tell her and make her understand, although I bet Scout already knows it deep down. I love Penny more and more with each chapter. Her almost motherly role towards Scout is very sweet.

“Do you trust me?”

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.”

“You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but his lips were surprisingly soft against yours. Jake’s lips moved against yours slowly, urging you to respond. Slowly, unsurely, you began to move your lips against his and he let out a desperate sounding moan. His hands clutched your hips in a vice as he moved his knee in between your legs, slotting it against you. You let out a gasp at the action, and Jake took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. His tongue caressed yours gently as his right hand slid up the length of your body to rest under your left breast. Your hands moved on their own to tangle in the strands of hair that rested at the base of his neck, tugging lightly. Jake rewarded you with a strangled groan and a press of his knee into your core. You cried out at the action, feeling Jake grin against your mouth as he nipped on your bottom lip.”

Can someone remind me how to breathe? it was so intense, hot and romantic. I liked the fact that it all started as a diversion but then they both couldn't break away and stop. The fact that Scout completely trusted Jake and let herself go, I think shows that, inside her, she has always felt a feeling of trust for Jake.

“Nobody has ever touched you like this, have they, angel?”

It was really perfect, now I have a thousand thoughts about what they will do in the future🫠. However there is a wonderful chemistry between them, I love it!

“Hey there, honey girl.”

He wants to earn money in a fair way and by doing honest work for her🥹 And the fact that he called her Honey girl🫠🫠

Ooh this chapter was really perfect, I haven't finished reading all the chapters yet and I already want to reread the series from the beginning! One word: Masterpiece💌✨

P.S. Sorry if my comments are always long, but I love everything so much!

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Reader being angsty, Jake Seresin (flirting, jealous), Fingering, Dirty talk

Word Count: 4,766 (oops)

A/N: I am so overwhelmed by the amount of love you all showed Chapter Four! It was beyond anything I could have every imagined!! Side note, I also love how many of you come into my inbox and leave me asks either praising the stories, or just talk about them (*hint, hint*)! I'm honestly shocked you all aren't sick of me and these stories yet with how much I talk about them. Thank you all. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist

A month ago, you didn’t jump every time a door opened to loudly in the other room. A month ago, you didn’t bolt up in bed in the middle of the night with the phantom stench of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. A month ago, you didn’t dream about grabbing hands and cold, black eyes that stared at you with the intention to possess. A month ago, the sight of the little, hand-carved horse didn’t fill you with an instant sense of comfort and warmth.

You had found it sitting on the railing by the steps of the porch the morning after the incident at the saloon. You had walked out the front door to do the morning chores, Benjamin having already tripped out the door with a promise thrown over his shoulder to come check on you in the later morning after his meeting. It wasn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it was clear that someone had spent a lot of time whittling it down before deeming it presentable. You had walked over to it slowly, taking it in your hands gently. Whoever had carved it had made sure to add in extra details. You could see the curve of the horse’s eyes and the strands of its mane that flowed down its back. Every detail had been painstakingly carved as if the crafter had wanted it to be perfect. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart swelled when you saw the final detail on the underside of the horse’s belly.

J.S.

The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.

The cattle had arrived shortly after the departure of the Dagger Posse from town, and both you and Benjamin found yourselves scrambling to hire workers to help with the overwhelming workload.

“I’ll put the word out, don’t you worry,” Maverick had smiled over dinner one night. Two days later, three young, new faces had made themselves comfortable in the small cabin behind the house.

“Isaac is a mean sonofabitch,” Penny had told you once she heard about what happened in her saloon. “But I wouldn’t worry too much about him for the time being, especially now that Pete and Tom know he’s in the area. He’ll lie low for a little while to try and wait’em out.”

Her words left you with little comfort, but you slowly stopped casting worried glances over your shoulder every couple of seconds every time you left the confines of your home. An easy routine had settled on your ranch. Get up, get ready for the day, feed the goats and chickens, tend to your garden, make supper for the ranch hands and Benjamin, work on mending the various articles of clothing that were handed to you, go to bed, repeat.

The subtle coolness in the air that had been present a month ago finally gave way to a full blown chill, and you soon found yourself planting winter vegetables.

“How are you today, miss?”

You looked up to see one of the ranch hands, Levi, smiling down at you from where he leaned over the fence. He was a handsome man, maybe only a year or two older than you. Brown hair draped across the golden skin of his forehead and baby blue eyes twinkled at you.

“I’m doing just fine,” you smiled at him. “And I’ve told you a hundred times now to call me Scout, Levi.”

He chuckled, grinning at you. “Of course, Scout.”

He walked around the length of the fence and through the gate to drop down beside you where your hands were digging up the cold earth.

“Anything I can help you with?” he offered, chucking the dead plants beside you into the bucket behind you.

“No, I think I’m just about done here,” you hummed, wiping your hands on your soiled apron, smiling at the handsome man. “But, I could use some help bringing things back from the market, if you don’t mind helping?”

“Of course,” Levi grinned, offering you a hand as you moved to stand. You took it, and he pulled you up gently, pulling you into him slightly. The two of you stood in silence as he stared down at you. He looked at you with a gentle expression, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green.

The thought alone snapped you from your daze, and you pulled away from Levi with a clear of your throat. Resting a hand on his chest, you refused to meet his gaze, eyes darting around the yard nervously. “I should go clean up.”

“Right,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “I’ll be here.”

You gave him a brief smile before pushing past him and into the house. Minutes later you were walking out the front door towards Levi, basket in hand. He offered you a smile which you returned shyly before the two of you made your way into town. There was a distinct lack of children running around, which you were grateful for. Maverick had announced to the congregation after the church service the previous morning that the first day of school would be held in the sanctuary the next morning. He had then introduced the new teacher, who appeared to be a shy little thing before the reverend had dismissed everyone for the day. This was of course after word had spread that the Dagger Posse was back in town. You had overheard two of the girls in the pews ahead of you giggling about the different men.

“Did you hear?” giggled a red head to her friend excitedly. “The Dagger Posse is back in town!”

That had caught your attention.

“Really?” the blonde had squealed, earning several disapproving looks from the older members of the congregation. The two girls paid them no mind. “When did they arrive?”

“Just last night!”

This was news to you. You were shocked at the wave of disappointment that rolled over you. They had gotten in last night? Why were you just hearing about it? You were shaken from your thoughts when the red head continued.

“Oh, that Jake is so handsome!”

That had caused you to let out a rather unladylike snort, drawing the attention of the girl who sat a few rows ahead of you. You rolled your eyes at the other two to your left. The blond man was very handsome, but if only they knew his true nature.

“He is,” the blonde nodded with a wistful sigh. “But that Bradley isn’t so bad on the eyes either. It’s been horrible going this long without seeing all those handsome men walking around town.”

Your thoughts soured at the reminder as you fought to keep your face neutral. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much. It wasn’t like you even liked the man. He was cocky, brash, pig-headed, thoughtful, brave-

You shook your head. You would not go down that road. Mercifully, the reverend had started the service moments later and you were given a reprieve from the ridiculous thoughts that insisted on taking up residence inside your head. Jake hadn’t come to see you that day, and now here you were; standing in the market and well into the next day.

You greeted Hondo where he stood behind the counter as usual.

“Mornin’, Scout!” he grinned at you. “What can I help you with today?”

“Was just coming to see if Joel was back with any sugar.”

Hondo gave you an apologetic grimace. “‘Fraid not, honey. He should be back any day now though, so you keep comin’ by and checkin’.”

“That’s alright,” you smiled. You turned to look at Levi. “Why don’t you go on down to the feed store and purchase some hay for the horses? I’ll finish up here and meet you at the stalls by the saloon.”

“Alright,” he smiled, giving you a lingering look before turning and walking out the door. You chatted with Hondo for a couple of minutes as he filled a container with salt and packed different preserves into your basket. You waved to him with a promise to check back in the following day before stepping outside. You had just made it to the stalls of the market when you felt eyes on you. A couple of girls walking by stared past you, and they giggled before you heard him speak.

“Mornin’, Scout,” Jake drawled. You turned to see him leaning up against the side of the butcher’s shop, arms crossed in front of his chest and a cocky smirk hanging from his lips. Green eyes studied you as you stared.

“Jake,”you greeted cooly, mouth pressing into a firm line. Jake’s smirk turned into a grin as he pushed off the wall, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you.

“Missed you, pretty girl,” he hummed, reaching up to dance his fingertips across your cheek.

You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.”

Jake leaned his head back with a booming laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. His laughter died down into a low chortle as he looked at you with twinkling eyes. “Is that why you’re being so cold to me, pretty girl? Y’mad that I didn’t come and see you?”

“Hardly,” you snapped, glaring up at him. His smile didn’t falter.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he chuckled, “had I known you’d be this upset, I would have come to see you first thing.”

You ignored him, turning to walk towards the stalls. He wasn’t far behind you, and when you stopped in front of a stall to inspect the apples, he pressed up against you from behind. He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and he let out another chuckle, turning you slowly to face him. He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at it, recognizing it from the jeweler’s shop just down the road. It cost a fortune, and many women around town had taken turns to stand in front of the shop windows to admire it.

“You like it?” he smirked, holding it up for you to see it closer. You nodded slowly, eyes wide.

Your hand moving on its own to reach up and stroke over the precious gem.

“Thought of you when I saw it, pretty girl,” he hummed, leaning in so that his breath fanned over your face. “Thought the green would help you remember me when I’m not here.”

“How did you afford this?” you breathed, voice so soft even to your own ears.

“I have my ways.”

Your eyes snapped up to his at that. Frowning, you took a half step back to put some distance between the two of you.

“You mean you bought it with stolen money,” you accused. “Or did you just force Mr. Benson to give it to you free of charge?”

“I bought it, if you must know,” he sniffed, looking more than a little put out at your sudden shift in tone.

“With money you earned?”

“Oh, I earned it,” he smirked ruefully.

You scoffed at that.

“You shouldn’t lie, Jake,” you said pointedly. “It’s a filthy, disgusting habit.”

“What does it matter?” he frowned. You narrowed your eyes up at him.

“It matters,” you seethed, “because I only accept gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way.”

Before Jake could reply, you heard someone call your name.

“Scout?”

You both turned to see Levi watching you two with an uncertain expression on his face. He walked over to the two of you, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. Jake stiffened at the action, eyes blazing and lips set in a tight line.

“Is everything okay?” Levi asked. You flashed him with a quick smile.

“Yes,” you reassured him, turning back to glare at Jake who still had his eyes locked onto Levi, scanning him up and down with a look of utter distaste. “We should get going. I forgot to grab the goat’s milk for Penny and we need to get the cart to pick up the hay.”

Levi nodded, looking uncertainly between you and Jake. You turned and began to walk through the crowd without a glance back at blond behind you.

Levi and one of the other ranch hands, Phillip, had dropped you off in front of the saloon with the promise that you would meet them by the bank before sunset. That had been a couple of hours ago, and you had fallen into an easy conversation with the older woman.

“She’s a timid, little thing,” Penny said as men began to make their way into the saloon. “I’ve never seen Bradley so sweet on anyone before. Calls her Birdie and everything.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled softly. “I hope one day someone will feel that way about me.”

“What on earth are you talkin’ about, darlin’?” she chuckled incredilously, stopping her movements to stare at you. “You’ve got that Seresin boy wrapped around your little finger.”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Penny shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

“I doubt that,” you frowned. “You know he tried to give me a necklace today?”

The older woman perked up at that. “He did?”

You nodded, humming at the memory. “You know that emerald pendant that’s been sitting in Mr. Benson’s window for forever and a day? It was that one.”

“Well where is it?” she asked curiously, eyes darting down to see the empty space by your collarbone.

“I didn’t accept it,” you said plainly, earning a look. “He bought it with stolen money, Penny. How could I accept it? I can’t. I won’t.”

Penny watched you thoughtfully for a moment. “What is it you want from him?”

You stared at the wooden top of the bar, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I want him to make an effort to do things the right way.”

“Alright,” Penny conceded, a knowing smile on her face. She turned to pull out some bottles from behind the bar, and stopped when her eyes caught sight of one of the windows. “Weren’t you supposed to meet your ranch hands at sunset?”

You turned to see what she was looking at and let out a low curse. It was clear that the sun had set ages ago, inky darkness resting against the windowpanes as lamp light filtered out.

“If you go now, they might still be waiting for you outside,” she said as you scrambled to your feet. You cast her one last smile over your shoulder before waving her goodbye. Practically sprinting out of the packed saloon, your warm cheeks were kissed by the cold, night air. Your breath came out in puffs as your eyes swept the street for any sign of the men you had come into town with. The streets were empty save for the few men who stood outside the saloon. Sighing, you figured they must have thought you had already gone home without them. You cursed again and began to make your way down the street. You had only made it three buildings down before realizing that footsteps sounded behind you, following you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as a wave of terror washed over you. You quickened your pace, and tried not to panic as the footsteps behind you matched your pace. Your heart began to hammer as you heard more footsteps join in with the first.

You rounded the corner a few paces ahead of the group behnd you. You let out a yelp as a hand grabbed you from the shadows of an allyway, pulling you into a strong chest. You struggled as the man pushed you up against the wall, hand still covering your mouth.

“Hey, hey. Scout, it’s me.”

You opened your eyes, struggling to focus on the stranger in front of you as you adjusted to the darkness. Jake stood in front of you, eyes filled with worry as he watched you relax. The both of you stiffened when you heard a man shout from the front of the building, and Jake turned his head to look.

“She went this way!”

Jake looked back at you, seeming to weigh his options. He removed his hand from your mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” you asked breathlessly.

“Do you trust me?”

You heard the shouts of the men grow closer as you studied the man in front of you. Slowly, you nodded.

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but his lips were surprisingly soft against yours. Jake’s lips moved against yours slowly, urging you to respond. Slowly, unsurely, you began to move your lips against his and he let out a desperate sounding moan. His hands clutched your hips in a vice as he moved his knee in between your legs, slotting it against you. You let out a gasp at the action, and Jake took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. His tongue caressed yours gently as his right hand slid up the length of your body to rest under your left breast. Your hands moved on their own to tangle in the strands of hair that rested at the base of his neck, tugging lightly. Jake rewarded you with a strangled groan and a press of his knee into your core. You cried out at the action, feeling Jake grin against your mouth as he nipped on your bottom lip.

“Any sign of her?”

You moved to pull away and look at where the voice came from, but Jake’s hand moved up pull you back into him before returning to its spot on your chest.

“No,” came a voice at the enterance to the ally. “Just a randy couple back here.”

You heard him walk away, and the hammering of your heart in your chest was due only in part to the small fraction of relief at his exit. Jake licked into your mouth like a man starved, delving deeper with each pass of his tongue against yours. You felt your hips rock against his knee, and you let out a desperate keen when he pulled his lips away from you. He kissed from the corner of your mouth and down the expanse of your neck. Finding a spot below your ear that made you give out a particularly loud noise, he smiled against you before honing in. He left little nips to the spot, soothing the sting with his tongue before sucking a bruise into your skin.

“Jake,” you cried out, the pleasure clouding your mind. Jake pulled back to look at you, eyes blazing and darkened with lust. He studied you for a brief moment before a salacious grin broke out across his kiss swollen lips. His right hand moved to grab your breast, squeezing gently at the same time he ground his knee into your core. You let out a quiet wail, arching into his touch, desperate to have his lips back on you. He complied with a chuckle, leaning back in to bury his face into your neck. His left hand still sat on your hip, and he used it to help grind you against him. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses as he made his way from the base of your neck and up to your ear.

“I should take you over my knee, you know,” he ground out hotly, nipping at your earlobe. “Walking around here at night with no one to accompany you. Lucky for you I happened to be walking along.”

You let out a choked gasp as he removed his right hand from your chest, sliding it down and under your skirts. With expertise, he bunched the offending material at your waist before reaching his hand into your drawers. Your head hit the wall when you felt his finger press against your entrance.

“So wet for me already, sweeheart, and I’ve barely even touched you,” he murmured into your ear. “Nobody has ever touched you like this, have they, angel?”

You shook your head, too far gone to answer and certainly too far gone to care about the consequences. He pressed a finger into you, your mind going blank at the sudden intrusion. His finger felt so big inside of you, and you let out another choked gasp at the slight burn as he stretched you.

“I know, sweet girl,” he cooed into your ear, slowly adding a second finger and thrusting up into you. “Let me make you feel good, darlin’.”

Your cries grew higher pitched as he slowly began to pick up the pace of his hand, palm brushing the little bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he moaned hotly into your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek that served as a stark contrast to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. Your cheeks grew hot as you heard the squelch that sounded every time he pumped into you. “Do you hear that, pretty girl? You’re pussy is so gready, sweet thing. She keeps sucking me back in like she doesn’t want me to leave.”

He licked a strip up from the base of your neck back up to your jaw before giving the skin there a gentle nip.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Feels good to just lean back and let me take care o’ you lke this. Nobody is ever going to make you feel like the way you do right now. Only I can make you feel this good.”

“Jakey,” you whined, reaching down to draw him into a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, pulling back to stare at you hotly.

“Say it again,” he whispered against your lips, fingers moving faster as he chased your high. You felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in your lower stomach as you ground down onto his hand.

“Jake,” you gasped, but he shook his head, fixing you with a stern look. You felt the hot sting of tears kiss at your eyes, crying out when he slowed his movements down to a crawl. His eyes bore into you, and you tried desperately to move your hips against him, but his hand had you pinned. He tsked up at you with a borderline sneer at your pitiful attempts to get yourself off.

“Try again, sweet girl.”

“Jakey, please,” you cried, feeling a tear escape and roll down your cheek. Jake hushed you, once again resuming the pace of his thrusts. You clutched at him desperately, nails digging into the exposed skin of his chest. Jake let out a soft hiss and slipped a third finger into you, causing a loud cry to spill out past your lips. He crooked his fingers in a “come hither” motion that had you gushing around the invading appendages. He smiled. “There she is.”

“Tell me who this sweet, little cunt belongs to,” he demanded. You clenched around him at his words, a strangled moan slipping past his lips at how tight you felt.

“You,” you cried, more tears streaming down your cheeks, begging desperately for your release as you stared into his green eyes.

“What’s my name, sweetheart?” He demanded, focusing his fingers on that one spot inside you that had you crying out and clutching at him every time. “C’mon, sweet girl. What’s my name?”

“Jakey!” you cried wantonly, burying your face into his neck. His groans became breathless and constant as you began to press sweet, chaste kisses to the spot between his neck and shoulder.

“Again,” he ground out, feeling you squeeze him impossibly tighter as you neared your end. “Let this whole town know who you belong to.”

“Jakey!” you wailed at the top of your lungs. Your gaze flashed white as you came hard around him, biting into the juncture of his shoulder. You felt your release gush out past his fingers as he continued thrusting, riding out your high.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hummed into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you calmed down. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

As your breathing returned to normal, Jake slowly pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to hiss at how empty you suddenly felt. Jake chuckled, holding your gaze as he brought his fingers up this lips. He sucked on them with a hum as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you. You choked out a breath at the sight, the fire inside of you returning with a vengeance at the sight.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you, dropping his fingers back to his side. His gaze was affectionate as he leaned forward to nuzzle your nose with his. “Just as I thought.”

You looked up at him in confusion. A smirk played on his lips.

“Sweet as honey.”

Jake made sure your skirt was on correctly before pulling you by the hand out of the allyway. He walked you quickly to your front door, stopping you with a grab of your wrist before you went inside. You turned to him with a confused frown as he looked affectionately down at you, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, so quick you weren’t sure he had even done it. He let go of your wrist and took one step down off the porch.

“Goodnight, Scout.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

The next morning your brother greeted you with a scowl, chastising you for getting home so late.

“What were you even doing, Scout?” he griped. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you refused to look at him.

“I just lost track of the time while talking with Penny,” you answered him, quickly clearing the plates from the table. Benjamin’s scowl grew deeper at your answer.

“That was stupid,” he snapped, earning a glare from you. “You need to be more careful. Who knows what could have happe-”

“Benji, it’s fine,” you cut him off with a huff. Placing your hands on your hips, you watched him as he moved to put his work boots on to go outside. “I know last night isn’t what has you in such a foul mood, so what is it? What happened?”

He didn’t say anything as you followed him towards towards the back door.

“Benji?”

“We hired on a new ranch hand,” he said evenly, this tone worrying you more than the previous one. “Was real insistent he get a job here too.”

“Alright?” you questioned, following him down the steps and into the yard. You saw four figures hammering away at the fence posts down by the barn, and you took quick steps to keep up with your brother’s longer ones. “Do we not have enough to pay him?”

“Nothing like that,” Benjamin muttered, casting a quick glance your way before back at the figures ahead of you. “Just know I blame you for this.”

“Benjamin, are you going to tell me what this is about or-”

You were cut off as the men stopped their hammering to look at the two of you as you approached. Each one greeted you, but your eyes were glued to the newcomer. An easy grin hung on his lips and mirthful, green eyes stared at you as you gaped.

“Hey there, honey girl.”

[nctsworld]

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu​’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen​

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period. 

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was. 

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot. 

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.  

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.   

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand. 

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place. 

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.  

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries. 

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.  

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences. 

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss. 

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

[nathaniacolver]

okay now time to do sidon's quest finally......

hey hey. hey no one told me you could hit those BROWN ROCKS WITH JUST A FREAJING ROCK HAMMER

ooooooh i love the music once you're inside!!!!!

scary music once you show the muck sky islands i love it

LOWER GRAVITY? oh this is gonna be FUN fun

floating in literal water bubbles

oh cleaning everything with the hydrants is so therapeutic.....

yo is this shrine gonna be zero-G too?

link's lil arm motions when he floats through the air

idk how you were supposed to get over that last gap to Sidon but i yeeted myself on a hover pad

okay idk how to use these water things. i swear i did the shrine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

back at the water temple, still dk what to do

OHHHHH YOU CAN SHOOT CHUCHU JELLY I FORGOR

bruh ok that wasn't that bad then actually

bro the fact that they made chuchu jelly so useful. Good for them.

fire like like???

BRO I WAS LIKE WHY CAN'T I USE SIDON'S POWERS YET AND IT'S BC I NEVER INITIATED THE WATER POURING ASFJA;FDKASJHAKHJFAL

jumping and landing in a specific spot is SO hard in zero-g but i've learned to just pull out the paraglider

BRO sidon does this awesome somersault through the air when i'm gliding

i rly used my portable pot to cook something with a defense plus and then never needed it bc i never got hit by the muctorok......

link rly just stands there and waits for them to touch the tear

now why does she look like she's wearing an elephant mask.....

WHO was standing on the left side of rauru?????? ancient link?????

only time traveler that i respect is princess zelda, the sage of time. like fr all other time traveler tropes can die.

gorons zora & rito all in the north half of the map and then the gerudo are way the FRICK down there

chief paya.....king sidon....and riju is already chief.....poor tulin is just a boy

this coronation is framed so like frozen lol

there are like 25 zora in attendance at this coronation lol

is yona an immigrant zora????

soooooo many zora quests now that everything is clean

bruh idk where a lot of this stuff is

ride into the cavern....get the stone

bro i promise you that if you hit the rabbit that pops out after you kill a bubbul, it gives you like 1000 rupees or something

you can just slash those vine things????? i thought you had to fire them?????

bro having tulin AND sidon fight is too OP. it's like i'm building my own fighting team

i keep forgetting these monster forts have these cage things....

BRO SPEAKING OF. i almost forgot this poor man in the cage 😭

JUST A TWO HEART SALT-GRILLED FISH???? cheapskate.....

oh he gave me a skewer too ksdjflakjfaks

ANDDDDDD AN ELIXIR?? bro that's def enough now lol

finally encountered a skeletal lizalfo lol

wait i ship fronk & his wife mei.....she called him her sweetheart 🥺🥺.......wow i am petname deprived

bro i have a 72 damage luminous stone talus hammer when wet

zora greaves baby

i love as well that there is just a bed at the edge of east reservoir lake

p sure a black lizalfos just one-shotted me

cave by ralis pond is HUGE there was a BLACK horriblin in there

they think i can't do this cave with only one slip resistance......they're WRONG

glowing cave fish actually add SO much to the ambiance oh my goodness

so you're telling me the water went down but the fish are still there so i can RUN and catch them instead of swimming? oh that's beautiful

YYYYYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH CLIMBING BOOTS LET'S GOOOOOOOO

there are like,,,,,,no shrines near zora's domain,,,,,i need to go do one soon

boutta ride this race course then go up to tarrey town

PELISON MY SON

HUNRHOND BABY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! I LOVE HER! (how did she grow so fast tho that she needs to go back to gerudo town.......)

it stormed for like 2 seconds just so that i could one-flurry-rush this black moblin with my 72 damage sword. love that for me

bro i needa go back to the fairy and upgrade everything

bruh not a comabt shrine.......bruh imma DIE

oh nvm it's the one where you just run the constructs over with a car. easy

mipha picture for the dude

Completing ALL the zora quests rn lol

how does it feel to get beat up with the heart of one of your brethren???? huh talus??????

only way I know how to blow up blue rock is Cannon Shield

using stalactites to ascend is so cunty of them

not i just unplugged this tree trunk.......

zora weapons in rain are OP

now what is the point of these four islands??? oh maybe i have to get to the bottom.....I'll follow the wood planks next time

bro idk what to do i haven't done anything worthwhile in like 15 min lol

maybe go find the next memory???

oop they're in a meeting

a lynx????? who is this foxy chica???? again to rauru's left????

WAIT does sonia not have a stone? i thought she did, or maybe she gave it to zelda?

RAURU DO NOT LEAVE THE DOOR TO THIS SACREDPLACE OPEN BRO GANON WILL COME AGAIN LIKE SOME OOT REPEAT

i love how whenever you need to transport people, they always have a lil seat

i can't believe rafting that man down in the cave to reach finley was a rauru's blessing shrine

mt lanayru tower is ready!

BRO I GOT SO EXCITED AB SHIELD SURFING DOWN THE MOUNTAIN THAT I DIDN'T PARAGLIDE AND LINK JUST FELL TO HIS DEATH SJDKAKDKSHFLWJDS

AND THEN THEY GAVE ME THE "FALLING DEATH" TIP SKAJDKSHDWLDB

bro i as just tryna float to the other tower but i landed in hateno village and i guess thay's fine

oh just found all the zelink stuff.,....🥺🥺🥺

sayge has a kid????

SCREAMINF AT THE CAMERA ANGLES OF CECE'S HAT HAHAHAHAHAH

bro if i get it does it give me like another life or something

ARE THE MAYOR AND CECE HAVING AN AFFAIR????!?!?!

oh he's just growing pumpkins lol

need to live tweet my playing of totk but don't wanna be annoying on my irl so i'll just do it here. this is the first bit:

BEWARE: TOTK SPOILERS BELOW

"i know i'll be ok with you link" okay they are IN LOVE

WHERE IS LINK IN THE CUTSCENE. THEY HAVE TO SHOW HIM IN THE NEXT 10 SECONDS OR I WILL FRET

ZONAI????!!?!!?!??!?!?! (Listen i forgot the gameplay trailer)

me walking at a respectable pace as to not leave zelda's side

BABE THERE'S TOO MUCH MALICE HERE WHY ARE WE STILL GOING

just talked to zelda and she was like "i'm so excited!!!!" GIRL DO YOU NOT HAVE AN OUNCE OF SELF-PRESERVATION

swinging the sword swinging the sword

WAIT WHY DO I HAVE 30 HEARTS WHYYYYYYY DO I HAVE 30 HEARTS

THEY JUST ADDED AN INSTRUMENT OR TWO OH FRICK AND IT'S GETTING LOUDER oh i already love the sound engineering

GLOWY SPIRAL????

DON'T PICK UP THE TEAR BABY oh frick oh frick

OH THAT'S WHY I HAD 30. FOR THE DRAMA

CAN'T LOOK AT MY TYPING I'M WATCHING THE CHTSCENE

OH FRICK IT JUST SHATTERED OH FRICK

gamer lean on x games mode rn

mans said screw it i'm out. fly you fools

BRO I WAS TYPING THE ABOVE WHEN HE LUNGED AND I GOT SO NERVOUS THAT I'D HAVE TO FIGHT FJSKDKJSJDAHHDLADG THE JOYCONS ARE FLOPPING AROUNS ON MY ARMS

THAT TEAR BETTER PROTECT HER I HOPE THAT'S WHAT THAT GLOWY YELLOW WAS

BRO WHAT. THE BLUE GLOWING IS GOOD. this is so anakin skywalker of him btw

baby don't you worry i'm gonna make link level up so fast so he can come and get you

oop naked link again AND HIS SHORTS ARE SHORTER????

nice mani link

A MAN'S VOICE???????? WHO IS IT WHY DOES EVERYONE KNOW THEIR NAMES

okay so The Voice just gives him an arm. okay

the malice or whatever stopping just at the triforce is Symbolic, i think

is it really a master sword or is it a master Dagger

i rly be taking screenshots of everything like i'm a tourist

okay green hand thing go off!!! oop give it a high five and it turns blue and goes behind you as a save point

*taking notes* okay cogs are cogging.......gears are gearing..........

now why the frick did it have me dive like that. what was The Reason

i Forgor that link can tread water indefinitely. swimming king

not me searching every nook and cranny like there's gonna be secrets in this Cave

PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARCHAIC PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

wait i put them on and now he looks like a gladiator.......cardboard skirt & Jesus sandals........ok shirtless king

oop just noticed his hair animations & the layers are CRAZY but it lookin good

wait so they was underground......and now in the sky...................i have Theories

they said aerial view shot once again but i mean AERIAL

ope no climbing, you're already too high in the sky

the lighting looks SO GOOD!

it's so silent up here i love it.

the MUSIC AHHHH

WAIT EVERYTHING'S AN ISLAND???? OH WE WAY THE FRICK UP IN THE SKY LINK. HOW CAN YOU BREATHE THAT THIN AIR

this game is making me fall In Love. with Silence

TREE BRANCH YES THE WORLD IS HEALING

apples. i could Cry

is that a broom?????

wait so the soldiers are bad and the stewards are good. it's just like real life!

why do i have the feeling that this is a /different/ princess zelda that left this to him.......oh nvm it's just the purah pad. what happened to the sheikah slate???

is link gonna look at pics on it and get emo

wait so. garden of time (ok Christianity reference). so zelda has lived through some trash already and is like poor link in the past. let's give him this

aw it's lonely :(

YES WE'RE GETTING ZELDA RIGHT AWAY I COULD CRY

ooh the purah pad looks slick (i'm so sorry but why does that sound like a tampon brand LIKEEEEE)

high five!!! oh wait high fives have OTHER FUNCTIONS???!?!

now why did the bridge have to do all that fancy stuff. (ik it's for stability or whatever don't @ me engineers)l

just smashed some pots. link's Primeval Urge

ok so linear path for Diving. got it.

that's a hot-footed frog.......................i could cry. i AM crying

picked up a rock. now i just have to see some Chickens

there are Grates in the ground and you can peek below. idk why i like that so much.

i am hunting these ostriches like i might die

THAT GUY SNUCK UP ON ME SO SILENTLY. I DECIDED I HATE FLOATING MACHINE ENEMIES (don't worry i was fine)

why did i try to light a frog on fire

[annyankers]

A excerpt from a rough snippet (really basically a thought holder thing) for book 4 of nobody’s daughter bc it’ll be YEARS BEFORE WE GET THERE but it’s of Spike and Beck!!!!!!! in the initiative cells!!!!! and their escape!!!!!

also quietly using this as a reference for other places like dangerous and savvy and how they meet there.

Across from him in another stark white cell was a young woman almost as white as the walls with long dark ill kept hair. He stared at her for a bit, for lack of anything else to do really once he’d given it all a once over, and couldn’t help but notice a vague sense of deja vu around her. The way she moved— or didn’t, and just sat there all bunched up in this case— the vacant but intense look in her brown eyes, the overall air of ominous fragility— it reminded him strongly of Dru. Which would either end up being a blessing or a curse when he finally figured out how to get out of here.

As if sensing his train of thought she seemed to come back to the present and looked up at him, noticing finally it seemed that his cell was now occupied. What do they have the chit on? He wondered vaguely as she finally seemed to boot up again completely.

“Who’re you?” Her voice was medium ranged but croaky from disuse.

“Spike. You?” 

“Beck. You the vampire Spike? Guy that was here two years ago with your girlfriend?”

He couldn’t help a bit of a smirk that his name is had something to it even now. “Yeah. That’s me, same vamp.”

She nodded slowly, as if working to take that in and file it while formulating her next thought. He waited, curious to see how long it’d take her. Blessedly he didn’t have to wait too long.

“Any chance she might stage a rescue?”

His mirth died and turned sour in his mouth. “Broke up.”

“Sorry to hear it. Would’ve been too lucky anyway.”

Beck seemed to lapse back into silent contemplation as her head rested back on the wall, her eyes drifting away to some spot to his left. Spike however wasn’t interested in letting his only entertainment slip away.

“You look fairly human, figure this place is for beasties, you got something in you?”

“Yeah, got something in me alright.”

“Anything useful?”

She turned her attention back to him and made a vague hand gesture that could have been fire or an explosion, either way it didn’t matter, it was useful and he could work with it. 

“Gotcha.” The gears in his head creaking into life as he let her drift off again for the moment as he fell out himself. Fuck he wished he had a cigarette.

————

The holding cells exploded into chaos and Spike roared with feral glee, over it all he could see Beck throwing herself against the walls of her cell and screaming, working herself into a state, with the stolen card he quickly unlocked her cell. She clawed out before the door was even a third open and nearly toppled into him looking utterly wild-eyed. He paid her little mind as he went back to craving a path out of there for them, redirecting a syringe meant for her into an orderly his only acknowledgement she was there past noting her closeness and erratic breathing. 

He needed to go now — they needed to—He could here the sound of more jackboots coming and he didn’t like the odds of making it out of here in one piece if they got here. He was regretting picking her for the little she was help she was at the moment, cursing the mental link he’d made to Drusilla for making it impossible to overlook a loony bint in peril. On the other hand he knew that Dru could be just as lethal as she was mad, sometimes she just needed the right push to get going. Beck he reckoned, thinking on how she’d been throwing herself about, was similar. 

Beck grabbed him and pulled them through the last bit of the cellblock and to the left in the adjoining hall, they weren’t very far in when the jackboots arrived and Spike cursed loudly. Ready to toss her to them and try to make a break for it without her when she yelled.

“HIT ME!”

He did without hesitation clocking her square on the jaw, hard enough to ring her but ideally not enough to stun her for more than a moment assuming she was as he suspected, a half demon or similar. The assumption was correct as after a beat she whipped around to face the soldiers and screamed violently. Suddenly flames sprouted up on all of them and in seconds every one of their captors in sight and some still in the cell hall he judged from the screams were engulfed in flames.

“Holy shit.”

He stood surprised at the sheer force of the carnage for only a moment before he put a hand on her shoulder with much more consideration than before. She was shaking, her expression strange enough to incite him to use the other to turn her face from the burning men and make her look at him. Instinctively he put on a tone he’d used while trying to calm Drusilla down when she was in her fits. 

“Time to go pet, there are still more bad men here, we need to get out while we can. C’mon.”

She was still wild but seemed to be using him as a focus point now, he could work with it. Urgently he pulled her along, the screams dying out at last as they finally escaped.

——

He took her back to his lair for lack of anywhere better to take her, didn’t know why he’d even bothered with her after they’d escaped— no that was bollocks he knew exactly why. She was in a bad state, she needed him and he wasn’t one to abandon women like her when they needed him, wasn’t built that way. 

——-

“Can we get milkshakes?”

“Yeah pet, we can get milkshakes.”

[magniloquent-raven]

“so who’d you steal this from?”

billy’s head snaps up, and he nearly drops his cigarette. “what?”

his lighter glints in the afternoon sun when steve holds it up, tapping the initials scratched into dented metal, eyebrows raised.

billy goes cold. a chill that cuts deeper than the wind rustling his jacket, and his stomach drops.

he moves to snatch it from steve’s hand but steve lifts it away from him, over his head, out of billy’s reach, and he smirks, insufferably smug, smoke curling from the corner of his mouth. "if i keep it, that doesn't count as stealing, does it? if it wasn't yours in the first place?"

a year ago he would have shoved steve to the ground for that. today he crosses his arms and glares. the toe of his boot nudges steve’s sneaker. “it’s mine.” billy grits out, refusing to look anywhere but steve’s eyes. “give it back.”

steve watches him for a quiet moment, his expression softening. which is worse than the teasing, especially this close. billy takes the opportunity to grab steve’s elbow and pull his lighter back into nabbing distance. the fact that steve just lets him is almost annoying.

his thumb swipes over the inscription instinctively the second it’s back in his hand, and he turns away.

neither of them speak for a while. steve smokes quietly beside him, and billy hardly pays any attention to the cigarette burning to ash in his hand, too busy staring down at the zippo in his hand.

steve’s elbow pokes his side. “hey, i’m sorry if i—”

“don’t be.” billy sighs, and drops his cigarette, crushing it into the pavement with a careless heel. he glances around the empty parking lot. whatever stupid fucking club meeting max is in right now is taking forever. if steve wasn't waiting with him he'd have left twenty minutes ago.

"so whose was it?" steve pauses, his jacket rustling in the silence. "someone you left in california, right? ex girlfriend?"

"anyone ever tell you you're nosy as fuck?"

"no, most people like it when i take an interest in them."

billy barks out a laugh. "is that what you're doing?"

"maybe."

and.

well.

if that isn't just exactly what billy's been wanting to hear since he moved to this shithole town.

maybe not all of what he's wanted, but. it's enough to make his heart do a couple somersaults.

he glances at steve out of the corner of his eye. watches him fidget with the zipper on his jacket, face carefully neutral. "it was my ex's."

steve blinks at him. his surprise is short-lived, however, and he tilts his head, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his hair falls across his forehead and billy itches to fix it. "yeah? parting gift, oor...?"

billy barely manages to keep himself from grimacing. "something like that."

they'd shared a cigarette twenty minutes before neil found them. he doesn't remember slipping the lighter into his pocket. but it was there, in a heap of dirty laundry on his floor when he got home from the hospital.

he hasn't gone anywhere without it since.

and he just handed the damn thing to steve without even thinking about it, shit. he doesn't wanna think about what that means.

"she break your heart or something?" steve's tone is light, in that forced sort of way, like he's trying too hard to be casual.

billy runs his thumbnail along the lighter's edge, staring out, unseeing, at the horizon. "nah." he exhales slowly. it's not exactly a lie but it still tastes like one, bitter in the back of his throat. "dad didn't approve, and shit got complicated." his mouth twists into a scowl. "'cause what neil wants, neil gets."

"ah," steve hums in understanding. like he has any goddamn idea. the urge to throw his sympathy back in his face is nearly overwhelming but billy bites his tongue. "my dad's like that." his voice has gone quiet, a faraway look in his eye, and billy's stomach clenches. he wonders if maybe steve understands more than he thought.

which might be why he says it. could be that. could be the fact that he's got a diploma and a wad of cash in his trunk and he can leave hawkins any time now, so maybe it's making him reckless, having a way out.

but it doesn't matter why, really.

he's not thinking about why. or what's next. he's just reacting and—

"yeah? your daddy ever kick you til you start pissing blood 'cause he caught you with a dick in your mouth?" he keeps his tone conversational, level, manages it despite his heart being in his throat.

"i..." steve thumbs at his bottom lip, gaze darting from billy to the school—the doors unmoving, parking lot still empty—and back to billy, drifting down his face. billy sets his jaw and waits, thrown off balance by steve and his lack of reaction. "no, but he did threaten to disown me after i got caught jacking a dude off at summer camp."

oh.

oh.

billy tongues the inside of his cheek. "that so?" he says faintly, still processing. "you. uh. you should tell me about that some time." he scratches his nose, and waves a hand at the school. "when there's no brats around."

"you gonna tell me about that if i do?" steve points to the lighter in his hand.

it takes a moment for billy to weigh his options, but it's a waste of time, he already knows the answer.

"okay."

[exiitiosus]

astarion ancunin 〃 @voicestm

☾⋆｡✦₊˚  As much as he enjoyed being around the others, there were times when his already loud mind wished for just a few moments of tranquility, and he knew the place just for that, perhaps that was his reasoning behind the current predicament he found himself into. Wyll hadn't meant to disturb the other, truth to the told when he spotted him, Wyll had thought of quietly leaving, of course after the initial amusement that crossed his features and the way it seems as if he hadn't been the only one with an idea similar of his own.

A few moments that changed the course of the whole ordeal, Astarion's words pulling a chuckle from his mouth and he found himself giving a shake of his head. " I might be mistaken but I didn't hear any sort of invitation. " The words held a teasing undertone, such thing made much more obvious by the raise of one of his brow. However despite what was just said, Wyll did step closer to where the soft terrain met the almost crystal clear water.

" And then again it'd be so horrible of me to disappoint. " A pause. Easy was to undress down to his undergarments, neatly resting his clothes near his boots before he spoke once more. " I highly doubt I would be able to live with myself. " Mirth ever so present in his tone, and that was when he stepped into the water, letting the cool water lap at his tired frame. Something akin to a pleasant hum slipping past his mouth as eyes closed for just a brief moment before they were opened again. " Simply divine. "

[rightsockjin]

Summary: Your best friend of your near entire life has been a total asshat to you ever since you started to casually date which didn't seem super fair to you since he did the exact same thing and you were nothing but supportive! It just sucks that you two are growing apart over a coping mechanism that you adopted to distract yourself from your overwhelming crush on said idiot. If only he knew. Wait- did you say that OUT LOUD?

Rating: M (What isn't on this blog?)

Genre: Maybe a little angst? Smut for sure tho.

Word count: 8003

Warnings: Thongs, sex, lewd thoughts, erections, physical pushing, raw dogging, cream pie, mentions of giving head, a looooooottt of swearing, mentions of slut shaming. Oh right- oppa kink and little splashes of korean as well.

yeo-chin= girlfriend

nam-chin= boyfriend

halmoni= grandma

apa=to hurt

aya=expression to express pain equivalent to 'ow'

Author’s note: HI EVERYONE! We are somewhat back!! So sorry for the long wait for content. Things have been insane and we’ve been working on a much- much longer fic for this blog which will involve all of the boys! It’s a long story but this hit me like a truck yesterday and it was initially meant to be a reaction but I couldn’t stop writing… so it’s 7k and the other boys will get their own version of this prompt “best friend is jealous of the attention you give to guys” thing. Starting once again with the one and only Yoongi! Hope y’all enjoy:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know it’s funny, I don’t remember asking,” Yoongi said virulently, his attention centered solely on his phone as he scrolled through instagram... or twitter... or maybe it was tinder. Your heart sank. You had been excited that this guy- Woojin- had given you attention. He was good looking by a lot of standards and it had boosted your confidence significantly. Of course, you wanted to share that excitement with your best friend. Rejecting someone that good looking always made you feel really powerful and attractive but you had barely shown him Woojin’s picture and commented on how attractive he was before your so called best friend had brushed you off and went back to his solitude and avoidance.

You had noticed that something was off for a while now but hadn’t commented on anything to avoid any conflicts but this was ridiculous. You had constantly listened to the stories of how girls would trickle in like water for him. He seemed to be going out with someone new every two weeks.

It wasn’t fair that you had to put up with his annoying descriptions of how beautiful these girls were while you sat and gave him your undivided attention as your heart slowly chipped and broke with each new conquest of his. Especially when each girl was so different from who you were. At first, you thought that maybe you were annoyed by this simply because it was hurtful to think he didn’t at least think you were pretty. It wasn’t long after that that you realized that it hurt you when he went out with women who were your polar opposite because it meant that he would never date you.

This had been shocking in itself. You had known Yoongi for your entire life, or at least a good portion of it, and you had always seen him as a brother. Your oppa in the least sexual or boyfriend-y form possible, but when you looked at him now… he was looking a lot more like well- an oppa.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. His words stung more than you would like to admit. Whenever Yoongi got this snippy, you liked to equal him in snip and double him in sass, never showing how vulnerable his disinterest made you feel, but this time, it felt like he had punched you in the chest with all his force and told you you were ugly to boot.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him either. He’d make fun of you. Last time you had cried, he’d awkwardly pat you on the head and quickly changed the very serious topic of your parents' relationship with yours to something totally different and not even a little relevant to helping you feel better. Given, that had been years ago and he’d never been very good at comforting you nor had he so much as expressed his support of you. Not since that one time when you had broken your wrist and he’d promptly pushed the girl who had been the culprit off the swing set thus getting himself suspended for a week and a half when you were both in elementary school.

But this… this was just cruel. It was ugly. It made you look at your “best friend” in a light that was not so shiny and pristine. He’d changed so much since then. He’d pulled away from you since then and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe you had and had just ignored it. Maybe you’d hoped if you didn’t mention it, that it would go away and he would come back full force with one of his dumb dances and pretty smiles. Maybe you hoped he’d realize soon what you had realized in your early twenties.

You loved him. And not the brotherly love that you had always had for him, no, you, Y/N, were very much in love with your best friend. Which made this whole situation so much worse.

When you said nothing, Yoongi briefly glanced up at you from his seemingly important phone conversation with most likely another of his soon to be dates only to look back down.

“What? Cat got your tongue? No snippy rebuttal? You’re not gonna chew me out for being mean to you again?”

His face was illuminated by the blue lights of his screen; he had it at the near darkest setting and his eyes were squinted to see it better. Something that had always annoyed you because you knew it was only hurting his vision.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. When that didn’t help, you cleared it, accidentally catching his attention. He clicked his phone off and looked over at you as if ready to argue but something in your face must have given away your inner turmoil because his hard features softened and his lips fell slightly open.

“Are you crying?”

No. Of course you weren’t crying. You never cried. Not ever. But then your cheeks were wet and the onslaught of emotion seemed to burst. How far had you fallen for this indefinitely cold man that his sarcasm made you fall in hysterics? Far it seemed. Too far.

You angrily wiped the tears away from your burning skin and crossed your arms over your chest. The hoodie you had stolen from him earlier that day felt like sandpaper against your skin as opposed to the comfort you’d initially felt when slipping over your head and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to it.

You felt him shift on the couch to face you fully, out of the corner of your eye, you could see his features had turned worried, alarmed even but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him nor care. Too little too late.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the still air like a wrong note played in a symphony. It made your head spin and ache.

You didn’t dare speak. It would only give away how truly hurt you were by his words and actions. You didn’t want to be around him anymore.

Abruptly, you stood up and yanked the hoodie from your body. The tank you had on pulled up slightly showing the skin of your belly. It was lopsided, you noted when you looked down and saw that one side was pulled over and under your bra and the other was too high on your chest but you didn’t really care.

Yoongi watched you with conflict evident in his eyes, if only you would turn to see. He hadn’t meant to offend you. He’d only been trying to keep you at arms length. You had also been going out with multiple guys, telling him how good looking and tall they all were. Most of these men were also built like rocks and he himself was toned at best. Contrary to what you thought, Yoongi had come to the realization that he’d been in love with you since you were kids. He did not tolerate when anyone made you feel like shit, and, being a very mature kid, he’d told his mother quite early on that he would marry you someday. Of course, she’d only chastised him and told him that he couldn’t possibly know what love was nor could he force you to marry him, but he was adamant.

He’d stopped telling her about it after that though, and instead of telling you how he felt, he’d opted instead to watch over you and make sure nothing happened. So when in high school, you had started to date and it had not been him whom you had chosen, he’d made sure to keep the sorry excuse of a man you had chosen in line. That was… until the incident.

Yoongi would never forgive himself for not being there. For not stopping the bastard who thought he owned you. He’d never forgive the idiot either and if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him with his bare fists then stuffed his own socks in his mouth.

It was then that Yoongi realized that you deserved better than him, and at the same time, no one was worthy of you. It was a strange dynamic. He’d never once approved of your dates, but had decided to start dating other women because, let's face it, he was a guy and he’d like to have children someday but not even in his wildest dreams could he think that you would ever settle for him. Someone who’d failed you as your self imposed protector.

Not that you knew any of that. You didn’t know that Yoongi often teamed up with your other best friend, your girl best friend to scope out your dates once you’d left. You’d almost caught them once as well and it had been by pure luck and the hair of a very out of place clown that both of them had escaped your wrath that night. You also didn’t notice that after you had fully broken up with that first asshole, he’d threatened to beat him to a pulp if he so much as breathed in your direction once more and later, he’d threatened ‘asshole’ two and three with the same things.

But then your dates had gotten taller and stronger and much harder to intimidate. He’d once made the mistake of threatening a casual date that you’d set up who was at least a solid half foot taller than him and he’d been laughed out of the restaurant only to find out later that the jerk had forced a kiss on you.

No, Yoongi’s days as your protector had dwindled and left him feeling half of the man he’d already thought he was and so his only defense, his only way to keep you safe- though now that he was watching tears well in your eyes he wondered what logic he’d used to justify this behavior- was to be the asshole himself and teach you how to deal with them on a first hand basis.

He hated himself for making you cry. He hated that you looked so dejected and hurt and like you never wanted to speak another word to him again. He hated that your shoulders slumped and that your pretty eyelashes were coated in wet tears and it was all on him.

“You know what,” you finally managed to say with some semblance of calm under the storm that was brewing in the irises he’d so loved, “I think we’ve grown apart a little too much. Maybe we should just- cut our losses and,” you heaved a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “stop seeing each other.”

Were you breaking up with him? How were you even going to break up with him if you weren’t even dating? Yoongi’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He had tunnel vision. All he could see was you and the way that you seemed to pull yourself up from the ground, rebuilding before his eyes.

“Stop see-what? Are you demented?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Was that all he was capable of being? Wrong. Incorrect. Inexact. Erroneous. Mistaken. He was plain stupid for the words he’d let slip but there was no taking them back now.

You let your eyes widen as you wiped more of your furiously falling tears from your skin. You turned to face him, your shirt fixed and covering you exactly how it should and your features set and intentional.

“What’s the point? You clearly don’t want to be around me anymore and I’m tired of being berated every time I mention a guy. You’re the most unsupportive friend I have and that’s because I’ve known you the longest. If you don’t want to be my friend just say so instead of slut shaming me and bullying me every chance you get you asshat.”

“Asshat,” he chuckled, crossing his sleeve-covered arms over his toned chest, “real clever, Y/N. Is that all you got, kid? You never were one for words were you? Why don’t you just sock me instead?”

Oh you were considering it. He seemed so unbothered by the prospect of losing you that you realized maybe you had already lost him and hadn’t realized. You had dealt with your fair share of jerks in your life, but you had always counted on Yoongi to be your hope. He’d shown you that there were men in the world that seemed to care about women. Men who could love you even when you felt unlovable, unworthy, but here he was, proving to you once again that all men were the same evil and vile creatures, incapable of love or kindness if they weren’t getting their dicks wet.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Then you could go around saying that I’m a crazy bitch. You know what? Fuck you Min Yoongi. I hope you get well and royally fucked.” You yelled, grabbing the tote bag you’d brought over from your apartment and stomping to the door.

“Fuck you too,” he yelled, following you to the door. He caught you at the landing strip, prying on your chunky sneakers with a bit of difficulty, your house slippers, the ones he’d bought you, lay haphazardly nearby.

“And fuck all of those asshole guys you keep bringing home. Better yet, I hope you don’t fuck them.”

You turned your head up to look at him, confusion and disgust written all over your face.

“What the fuck do my dates had to do with what a fucking jerk you are?”

Choosing to ignore your question, he focused instead on your insult, “A jerk, am I? Well you’re a bitch. How do you like that?”

He didn’t know why he was insulting you. He didn’t think you were actually a bitch, but the anger on your face made him feel better.

It was followed by near instant regret as you drew yourself up to your full height and looked at him with pure venom in your gaze.

“I’m a bitch?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep his shoulders square, but you were scary when angry and he’d never fared well in fights with you.

“I’m the bitch?”

“You heard me!”

You balled your fists at your sides, your eyebrows connected in the center and your breathing was heavy. He knew better than to use the B-word.

“You’re a piece of shit.” It was low but your voice carried and hit all of the bones in his body before it hit his heart and burrowed deep in the wounds he’d stitched up but pulled open multiple times over the years that pertain only to you.

“You are a sorry excuse of a man,” you growled, pushing him by the chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noted that it felt really firm and stronger than before.

“You’re an ass, Min Yoongi,” you continued, giving him another push so that he stumbled slightly back into the living room of his apartment once again.

“You low life,” another push, closer to the couch, “weak minded,” you shoved him, he sidestepped the glass coffee table where your untouched coffee mugs still rested, probably cold by now, “son of a bitch, fucking baby, involved sorry excuse of a man-” He fell onto the cough. Your vision was red.

“You already used that insult.” Was all he said as you stood over him, your chest heaved with the exertion of trying to keep yourself from slapping the now blank expression from his face.

A slew of incomprehensible noises escaped from your lips as words completely left your brain. Damn him. Damn this idiot of a man that you were in love with. He could go to hell for all you cared and you hoped that the devil himself ripped his testicles off and served them on a platter with some kimchi and fried rice.

“Okay first of all- ow,” The asshole said, pulling you back to reality and not your fictitious rework where Yoongi was now sitting at the end of a long table being force fed his own balls, “And second…”

You held your breath. Fear ran down your spine. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud-

“You-you’re in love with me?”

Well… he got his wish, you were royally fucked. Instantly, you tried to back track. Your mind kept replaying in your head what you had said and tried to correct itself but you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly absolve you.

“Like a brother,” you said finally, your voice shaky and thin.

Yoongi only blinked up at you. What you said was bullshit and he knew it. You knew it too.

“You’re in love with me… like a brother?”

“Oppa,” you clarified as if that would somehow make more sense, and it did kind of, but it didn’t absolve you at all. In fact, this only made a smile tug at his lips, his pearly teeth suddenly on display, blinding. You fought the smile that threatened to pull at yours too. It was always hard because his smile was so contagious.

Yoongi stood. He was less than an inch away from your own body. You felt small, meek. You’d misstepped this big game of chess you seemed to be playing. He was going to make fun of you. He’d never let you live it down. You liked him.

“You like me,” as if he had read your mind, he echoed your thoughts, or maybe you had spoken that out loud as well.

“No I don’t,” you argued, taking a step back just so you could have some space to breathe.

“Oh yeah you do,” Yoongi argued, his smile so wide you were sure it would hurt the muscles in his cheeks

“No,” you said again, not really thinking anything you said at this point would convince him otherwise. The son of a bitch was stubborn.

“Admit it,” he said, closing the distance between you again, his neck craned down to look directly at your face.

“I don’t like you!” You tried to take another step back but the coffee table knocked your feet out from under you. You fell onto it knocking Yoongi’s mug of coffee over. The black decaf liquid seeped into your shorts.

Yoongi’s rusty laugh was pried from his throat as he watched your face contort. He was having the time of his life, it seemed. Good for him.

“Stop laughing at me,” you groaned, your cheeks red. You were practically sweating from how feverish you felt.

It was like you hadn’t spoken. Your shorts were wet and made you feel sticky. In a fit of anger, like a child throwing a tantrum, you unbuttoned the denim and ripped them from your legs. This shut Yoongi up instantly. With the soiled fabric, you cleaned up the liquid before it fell onto the light grey carpet.

Yoongi stilled as his eyes traveled up and down your long legs.The way you were twisting, he could see the back of your left thigh up to where it met your ass- your bare ass. You were wearing a thong.

God help him, he was rapidly getting hard. He forced his eyes away from you, his walls being pulled back up at seeing you naked. Well partially so. He pushed his hands into his oversized hoodie and made sure that it covered his front. The last thing he needed was for you to see.

But then you turned and pulled your legs together, your thighs squishing attractively. What he wouldn’t give to be choked by those thighs.

“Let me wash those for you,” he said tightly, pulling a hand from his hoodie to take the soiled shorts, the hem of the fabric pulled up enough for you to see exactly what he’d been trying to hide.

Yoongi had a hard on. You weren’t sure why exactly you were surprised. You were attractive, that much you knew, but you never really expected for your best friend to see you in that way. In fact, you were pretty sure that you’d been in your underwear in front of him before and he hadn’t even given you a second glance, but there was the evidence. And God was there a lot of evidence.

Slowly, you handed him the shorts. His hand grabbed them tightly, avoiding touching any part of your hand with his. Then, after a slight pause, he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen to put the shorts into the washer.

You’d called him oppa. You rarely called him oppa and it had hypersensitized him to the word coming from your lips. Other girls called him oppa sometimes and it had no effect on him but there he was, stiff as a board and it had something to do with you calling him oppa and your state of undress. Fuck. He was fucked. So fucked.

At least he wished he could be… But no. He pushed those thoughts from his head as he threw in some nice scented soaps into the wash and clicked it to life. He shut his eyes, trying to think of anything that would drain the blood from his member- halmeoni maybe?- but your voluptuous ass kept intruding, giving his halmeoni some nice curves that messed with her wrinkled face. He shook his head once more and decided he’d just have to hide his boner until it went away, or go beat one out in the restroom really quick.

He grabbed a pair of his clean sweat pants from the drying rack to give to you, just so you would be comfortable, he told himself, not because the thought of your naked butt in them made him unspeakably horny.

But when he got back to the living room, what he found was not you, covering yourself with a pillow like he’d expected, but you, only in your thong- fuck did it have to be a thong?- and your bra. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, burring his head in his hands and turning away from you.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough that can be arranged,” you answered rather boldly. There was no way for him to know that you were quaking in fear for his rejection.

Yoongi’s dick twitched in his sweats.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as his heart beat faster. He felt like he was having a whole heart attack. He patted his chest, hoping to calm it down knowing it was useless.

Should he go for it? You had just admitted accidentally that you did have feelings for him and you were clearly propositioning him. Should he just-

He turned around, back to face you, determination paining his expression. Still on the coffee table, your legs were spread open, only covered by the thin sliver of fabric that your thong allotted. You were a little cold, but all of that melted away when you saw the way that Yoongi’s eyes roamed your exposed body, then stopped abruptly to meet your own.

He was in front of you in seconds, his longer legs carried him farther and faster than you had anticipated. Then he was pulling you to stand. You wobbled on your legs but one of his arms found its way around your waist. His free hand came up and held your jaw with two fingers on either side of your face, squishing your lips together slightly. His hot, heavy member pressed against your stomach through his sweats. He was so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the fading smell of his cologne you loved so much. All you wanted was to grind against him but you were held too tightly.

“You never know when to shut up do you?” But he didn’t let you answer. He crashed his soft lips onto yours, his hold on your jaw ached but you didn’t care. There was a passion in his kiss that you hadn’t expected, subtly dwindling to something more like tenderness, and the kiss continued. His lips dragged against yours delicately, pinching your top one with both of his. Small breaths came out of his nose, whistling softly against your cheek. You timed your breaths with his, high on the feeling of finally being kissed, coveted by him. Was it real? Was this actually happening?

Your brain suddenly caught up with your body. The rightness that came with the way he was kissing you, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to properly breathe, was like nothing you could have imagined.

The hand on your waist was drawing small circles where the elastic of your thong rested, his index finger casually hooked onto and under pulling lightly. You pressed yourself tighter than he had you against his erection. He groaned, his mouth opening and his tongue suddenly darting out to taste. He pulled your jaw open, granting himself entrance and exploring your mouth.

You moaned, a sound so sensuous and wanton that Yoongi felt that he could cum just from those sounds alone. He wanted more. He wanted you to sing his praises as he fucked into you and caressed your chest. He wanted you to drool around his cock and to have your sweet mouth wrapped tight around it. He wanted to feel you gag at his girth and he wanted to pull at your hair. But most of all, he wanted to kiss you, just like how he was at that moment. He wanted to kiss you until he’d taken your soul from your body and replaced it with his own. He wanted to kiss you until he could erase every trace of all of the men who’d hurt you and made you doubt that you were worthy and wanted. Yoongi wanted to kiss his love into you no matter how long he had to do it. If he was locked in a room with you for months, so be it.

But your hand had found its way between your bodies and was slowly coming down to his hips. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and panicked. He hadn’t gotten your consent. He hadn’t asked you if it was okay for him to kiss you or to hook his fingers on your thong. As stupid as it sounded, even to Yoongi himself, he needed to make sure that you wanted this to happen, even as your hand had found the outline of his cock and you had started to trace the outline of it over the fabric-

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you. The hand around your waist was now on your shoulder to keep you at enough distance so that his brain could function and wasn’t clouded by the horniness he was feeling.

“Wha…?” You slurred, your eyes were glazed over and your body was completely relaxed.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, fighting his every instinct to push your mouth open and have you suck on his thumb before he pushed you onto your knees to suck him off, “and I will.”

His eyelids were heavy and he was sweating slightly. He was so hard that it hurt and the circles you were drawing on his penis were not helping at keeping him at bay. He knew if he looked down, there would be a stain of precum on his sweats.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing his jaw before you nibbled and kissed down his taught neck.

“Fuck.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You licked a thick swipe up his jugular, “I want you.”

“Then admit it,” Yoongi heard himself say. He was just as surprised as you were to hear those words from his lips, “admit that you like me.”

You pulled away then, dropping both your arms in exasperation, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m in my underwear, stroking your cock and you want me to stroke your ego too? Un-fucking-believeable. You’re a dumb ass.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

“Aya, apa~” he groaned, rubbing his head, the dynamic that you were used to suddenly restored.

“Yeah? Great! I’m glad that it hurt! I hope it hurts really bad you jerk. Then maybe you’ll understand what it was like for me to listen to you go on and on about all the girls you went out with every fucking week. In fact-”

“Aya! What the fuck? Stop flicking me,” he nearly screamed, clutching the tip of his nose.

“Make me.”

Big mistake. Yoongi didn’t take your dare lightly. His eyes darkened then he leaned down and picked you up. You squeaked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to his room. His hands cupped your butt fairly comfortably, like this was something you did often. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“You think I wasn’t hurt as well?” He asked, clasping a hand around your neck and lightly pressing his fingers against your skin.

“You think I like knowing that everywhere we go, men are watching you, coveting you the way I do? You think it isn’t torture when you go out and I don’t hear from you until the next day?”

He pushed you up against his pillow. The duvet was already all messed up under your body. He was between your legs, pressing himself into your core. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him all the way inside you. He wanted nothing more than to do the same but he had to make sure you knew first.

“You think it was easy being in love with you when you wanted nothing from me but friendship?”

Your eyes softened. Yoongi was in love with you too? When?

“Since we were kids,” he answered. Again you had spoken without meaning to. “I always knew it was you, Y/N. It was only ever you.”

But something wasn’t adding up. You fought your rising feelings of elation. You wanted to understand what he was saying. If he had liked you since you were kids then why had he never asked you out? Why become the serial dater he’d become? But he’d never had a girlfriend, you reminded yourself. He’d only ever “dated” and then dropped these women. You always assumed he was screwing them all.

Yoongi became sheepish then. “I uh… I did have sex with some of them but-” and the hurt in your eyes would be enough to kill him,” it was only at the start. I thought that if i had sex with other people I’d stop chasing after you. But it didn’t work… I haven’t slept with anyone since junior year of college.”

Your eyes widened. “College?”

He nodded, his pale cheeks blushing prettily.

“They just...were never you… and then I thought if I pushed you away that would help but that only made us estranged and-”

You pushed yourself up and shut him up with a kiss. He was over thinking and you could talk about all that later.

“You’re an idiot,” you started and he rolled his eyes, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes rolled into his head and he thrust lightly into your wet center.

“Talk after?”

“As long as you want,” you agreed, already pushing at his sweats. Yoongi sat up and pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one fell swoop, then, at the speed of lightning, pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his boxers off as well and then he was naked before you. Your mouth went dry. He was big. You could tell just by looking at him that he would stretch you good and you wanted so badly for him to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Really? Cause that would be really helpful on days when I’m home alone-”

“Wha-no!”

You chuckled and lay down on your back, making sure that your legs were spread wide for him to have his fill. Like a moth to a flame, he was between your thighs, his tongue licking at the wet fabric.

He moaned against your covered lips, sucking up the arousal that clung to your underwear.

“Fuck, Yoongi yes,” you said without meaning to say much at all. You unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room. You could look for it later. This caught his attention. He thrust his naked dick into the mattress, needing some sort of stimulation.

“Damn it… fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate to be inside you, I swear I could get you off with just my mouth all day, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off, gesturing for him to come up to your face, he did so without question, “Hurry up, I’m dying. Please.”

“Are you begging?” Yoongi’s lips curled lightly, teasingly,

“Do you want to get your dick wet or not?” He kissed the wrinkle between your eyebrows lightly.

“Yeah, can I take these off?” he hooked a finger on the elastic of your thong, pulling it a little higher than he probably should have. It was an old pair. You heard rather than saw the stitching on it pull apart and then the thing was hanging limply from Yoongi’s fingers, his expression shocked.

“Yoongi!”

“What? I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“For fuck’s sake! That was my favorite thong!”

“Well, clearly it was cheap,” he countered, throwing it across the room somewhere too.

You groaned, shifting slightly under him. His dick nuzzled between your wet lips. His mouth dropped open and a pleasured grunt escaped his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rut against your wetness, hitting your clit lightly, far too lightly, “you are so wet. God, this should be illegal.”

“Y-Yoongi… more,” he reached down between you two and found your sensitive nub without much hassle. It was like he knew your body already. Your body twitched under him and he circled the bundle of nerves for a couple of seconds. The noises falling from your lips were heaven on earth and Yoongi realized you were his new favorite song.

He gave your clit one rough stroke, ripping a small gasp from your throat. He gathered some of your slick with two practiced fingers and brought it up to eye level. It caught the low light of his room from the window, the smell enough to threaten to send him over the edge.

“Jesus Christ that’s hot.” Then he smeared it all over his penis and gave himself two rough pumps.

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking-”

“Don’t care. Just do it. Yes.” You said angrily, pulling him closer and closer, his toned chest flush against yours.

“Have you been working out?” You asked, breaking the intense way he was staring into your eyes, his smile pulled wide over his gums.

He shrugged but clearly was glad that you’d noticed, “Namjoon and Jungkook convinced me to join them in the gym. It’s no big deal.”

“But your arms,” you complimented, squeezing his bicep. He flexed it lightly for you. You blushed when you realized exactly what you were doing.

“It’s just a little muscle,” he commented offhandedly.

The conversation lulled, he smiled down at you, and you up at him. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“So can I put it i-”

“I already said yes.”

“In your ass?”

“Ew no!”

Yoongi laughed loudly, “see this is why you can’t say yes to something without knowing what you’re agreeing to.”

“Shut up and put it in the right hole,” you groaned, then for good measure, “oppa.” It was a joke. You thought it was a joke, but something lit up in his pupils as two measly syllables rolled off your tongue and hit his eardrums. You felt his skin prickle under your touch and his member twitched against your folds.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you looked up at the handsome man. His eyes had narrowed as well as darkened. He looked absolutely ravenous and you wanted him to eat you up.

“Say that again.” He commanded as he pushed the head of his massive, and now that you could properly feel it, you knew that you had been right, cock at the entrance of your lower lips.

“O-oppa?” you questioned, astounded that the simple word that he’d no doubt heard his whole life had this effect on him.

“That’s right yeo-chin,” he growled, his voice gruff and harsh as he pushed lightly into you. His dick opened you painfully, perfectly.

“Yeo-chin?” You ask through the explosion of pleasure between your thighs.

“Is that okay?” He asked, suddenly looking really vulnerable and scared. You reached up, stroking his cheek lightly with your knuckles.

“Oh honey,” you trailed off, bumping his nose against yours before you pulled back abruptly, “If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me properly.”

Yoongi sighed, his smile telling you he expected as much and wasn’t hurt, “Talk after?” He asked again.

“As much as you want,” you reiterated.

And then he was pushing into you once again, surprising you because you could have sworn you had been full before but inch after inch, he pushed into your awaiting hole, filling all the emptiness you’d felt your whole life until his balls tapped your ass softly.

His face was contorted in pure ecstasy. At least from your perspective. Yoongi, in all truth, was trying his hardest not to blow his load into you already. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was inside you. He’d waited his whole life for this and he was finally inside you.

You wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and playfully licked his lips. He grunted against you, holding himself up by the forearms. Suddenly, he was really grateful that he had started to work out and that Jungkook had him doing three minute planks for fun. He’d have to thank him later, even if he did complain a whole lot.

“Can-can I move?” Yoongi gasped. Your walls fluttered around his member as if welcoming it home with soft caresses. You were so warm, maybe hot, he wasn’t sure, but you were tight and wet and all the good things in the world.

You only breathed, feeling so unbelievably full. It felt like he had pushed in all the way to your throat. You were no size queen, really, you weren’t, but if this is what they were going on about, you understood.

“Y/N,” he panted, his body begging him to move, “please.”

“Are-are you begging?” You giggled mirroring what he’d asked you before.

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he admitted, “Please… please…”

Well fuck. How could you say no? You nodded fervently, all mirth erased from your expression as he pulled out slowly, your juices squelched as your lower muscles tried to keep him in.

“Gah- ash-Y/N… you’re so tight.”

You only moaned in response, the head of his cock was still in you, stretching you to the point you didn’t think anyone could fully make you feel this way again.

“You’re so big,” you complimented scratching at his back. His muscles rippled under your touch.

He pushed back in, still torturously slow. It felt like you were being split in half. You felt like Olaf in the first frozen movie after he got stabbed by an icicle.

“Yoongi,” you gasped as he pulled out again at the same speed, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Oppa,” he growled into your ear, kissing roughly at your skin.

“Oppa,” you agreed, though it wasn’t your favorite word, he seemed to be getting of fairly

well so you let it slide, “move faster.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, knowing it was probably going to hurt but you wanted to feel him and you wanted him to cum.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told again; he drew back, once again leaving only the mushroom tip inside you once again, and then he thrust. Hard. You nearly choked as he pumped himself over and over again hitting the nerves in your vagina. The slap of skin against yours was loud in the empty room, only accompanied by your moans and his pants and grunts. Your names mixed in every once in a while, your lips kissing any and all the skin that you could possibly reach. He licked at your lips and sucked bruises onto your neck, your chest. He wanted to mark all of you. He wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to… as soon as he asked you right after he finished up.

This idea itself spurred him on, to thrust faster, deeper. He wanted to finish and make sure that you finished too, not quickly but soon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to make sure that you were in the same place.

So he reached between you both again, his fingers blindly found your clitoris and began to rub abstract shapes into it. Your back arched off the bed, your hair and boobs bounced with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. You were seeing white, your mouth wide open in a silent ‘o’. You were so close. So so close.

“Come, Yeo-chin,” he whispered against your temple, and though you weren’t technically his, the title sent you over the edge along with his fingers and the deep thrusts that hit your cervix.

“Oppa,” you groaned, your face screwed up.

That did it for Yoongi. His fingers on your clit stuttered along with his hips. His thrusts became erratic and he hit the sides of your walls. You squeezed around him as he over stimulated you through your orgasm.

“One more time… say it one more time,” he begged.

You complied, whispering it into his ear, it was cut slightly by a particularly pleasurable thrust. Yoongi felt pure euphoria fill his blood as his hips paused, then buried deep into your hole. Ropes of hot cum shot into you, filling you.

Yoongi panted heavily over you, his head resting on your shoulder as he struggled to keep himself up. You were breathing heavily as well, your nipples brushed against his chest. You were sensitive. You hissed.

“You can lay down,” the words had barely left your lips before he had let his weight settle on top of you. A smile crossed your face as his hands tangled in your hair and stroked it lightly. You wrapped him up in a hug, wanting him to stay like this for a while. It was nice to feel him so close.

After a couple of minutes of both of you just recovering and your breathing getting much harder, like a wrestler, you tapped Yoongi twice.

“I’m out,” you joked, “can’t breathe.”

With what looked like a lot of effort, he pushed himself up and off you, pulling out of your suddenly. The cum inside of your vagina gushed out.

You made a face as you felt it drip onto his sheets. Yoongi watched it ooze out of you, not really caring where it was going. He looked mesmerized. He reached out as if to swipe at the cum on your lower lips but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“We talk now,” you sighed, a bit calmer than before but still a bit worried.

“Now?” He looked so vulnerable again, like he was a scared child. He lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He looked down at you, waiting for you to take the reins, the way you always did but this time, you didn’t know where to begin.

Yoongi cleared his throat looking around uncomfortably. When you said nothing, his mind had started to race.

“So… do you… want to be my girlfriend, or are we friends with benefits level right now? Ow!”

You’d smacked his shoulder, not hard at all but he was dramatic and you knew that. He frowned at you, his lips tempting you into another kiss that could lead to something more once again. You were already feeling a little turned on again just looking at the results of his recent gym trips.

“So no to yeo-chin then?”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t you mean Oppa?”

You smiled up at him, a teasing glint in your gaze, “I didn’t know you had an oppa kink. This whole time, I was right to refuse to call you oppa. I knew you looked way too happy whenever I called you that!”

Yoongi scrunched his nose and looked away, “I don’t! It’s just… when you say it.” He admitted waving a hand as if to bat away your inquisitive and teasing stare.

Not really knowing how to answer that, you chose instead to answer his previous question.

“Nam-chin,” you ran a finger down the center of his pecks, tracing all the light visible muscles that made you want to get off on just riding his chest. Yoongi tensed under your touch. He seemed frozen.

“Did you just call me nam-chin?” You, for once, were not embarrassed. You smiled brightly, happy that the title finally had a head to sit on.

“Is that okay?”

Yoongi pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his heart beat erratically in his chest, singing to yours. To its credit, your heart synced and harmonized almost instantly. He smelled like pure sex and fresh water. He buried your face into his bare skin, listening to his song. After all these years, after all the tiptoeing and fear, you were finally where you belonged.

“Of course it is,” he paused, kissing the top of your head a couple of times, “yeo-chin.” This time, the word made a shiver roll down your spine. Arousal began to pool between your sticky thighs once more and if the third leg on your stomach was anything to go by, he was as well.

“Can- can we take a shower?” you asked him, biting your lips and pushing your chest against his suggestively.

He smirked, his mouth watered at the thought of taking you in the shower. He could almost hear your moans echoing in his wet room as he sat you down and ate you out until the water ran cold. Easy clean up even.

“Yes.” he breathed, connecting his lips to yours. You kissed for a while, your lips meshing together lovingly. Yoongi was a good kisser, you realized. He was a good lay as well. And he was cute to boot. Suddenly, he pulled away and picked you up bridal style and walked you to his restroom. He once again kicked the door open to avoid using his hands and walked you through, but this time instead of throwing you down, he set you on the toilet, him on his knees between your pushed open legs.

“I hope you don’t have any plans,” he said, kissing up your thighs and pulling you close to the edge, “because I have all the time in the world and I’m really, really thirsty.”

He ran two fingers over your abused center, collecting his cum and your new arousal. Sure, there were still a lot of things to talk about between you two. Yoongi still wasn’t sure if you fully understood the depth of his feelings nor was he sure if you simply liked him and the slip of the L-word was nothing more than that. A slip. But like he’d said, he had all the time in the world to ask and all the time to make sure he earned you and your trust. He would do anything he could to prove it and some day he would be.

But for now, he was royally fucked by the sinful sounds that escaped your pretty lips and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy.

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Masterlist -in case you want to read more....

I hope yall enjoyed it and that this is a good come back after our roast session from permission to dance:)