#the rest should probably wait until the first two books are cemented in

[captain-kinda-trash]

Hello love! I hope I’m one of your first asks!!! 😍

Can I order up a new love/confessing feelings with a side of fluff, a la Bayverse Donatello please?! 💜

Sure thing lovely!! Hope you enjoy!!

Truck Repairs (Bayverse! Donatello x Fem! Reader)

"Torque wrench please."

"Got it."

The slap of cool metal against scales resounded from underneath the Turtle Truck (a name Y/N commonly used, much to her companion's distaste), as Donnie was handed yet another tool from the plastic box next to his feet.

"Thank you." He huffed out. The cranking of gears, clinking of iron echoed out from the truck.

"Sure thing, Don," The girl said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the turtle's legs, "How much longer do you think this should take?" Her eyes stole an extensive glance at those toned, long, delicious-looking limbs. Wait. What? That didn't come from her mind again, did it?

Of course, it did. When did it not? Donatello sighed, voice floating out from below the massive machine, and then the wheels of his skateboard rolled against the cement as he uses his feet to pull his body from underneath.

"Uh, I'm not sure. The damage inflicted on the lower regions of the compression body is pretty tremendous. It could take up a few days, weeks even, if not strategically maneuvered-" he pushed the goggles from his eyes to settle comfortably on the top of his head, revealing the glittering hue of those beautiful amber eyes, "But it seems to be going well at the moment."

His mouth cutely curled up into a smile, one that never failed to release a cocoon of uncaged butterflies in Y/N's stomach.

She grinned back, and then shyly turned to study the soles of her shoes, evidently more interesting than looking at his uncannily handsome face.

"That's good to hear. Maybe we should take a break soon. You've been working like crazy since you got back from patrol."

His smile very subtly faded at this suggestion, though he made sure that his friend didn't catch it. Donnie enjoyed this company that she provided working with him on the truck's repairs, much more than he was willing to admit. Though, yes, he could use a nice break, maybe grab a snack or glass of water, the mutant knew surely that nothing fueled his cravings like her sweet presence (incomparably rich to the taste of his beloved pop tarts).

And if the same wasn't in her book about him, then by gods...

I mean sure, he's a mutant. Gross right?

Wrong. So, so very wrong.

"Y-yeah I guess we could take a little break." He responded, then let out a sort of struggled grunt as his body lifted to sit upwards and rest his shell on the side of the garbage truck.

Y/N's eyes wandered once more at the marvelous rolling and extending of his muscles as he did so, draping a single sturdy arm across one knee and using the other to adjust his glasses. She gulped. Her gaze shamelessly traveled to the seemingly endless length of his legs, until she caught the quick movement of his head in her peripheral.

She immediately averted her stare, back down to the laces of her converse, trying to subside the heat crawling quickly over her neck.

"T-tell you what, why don't I go grab you a snack, and you stay here and see if there's anything else we can do." Y/N pushed herself up from the ground and before Donnie could respond, she had already scampered out of the workshop to avoid any further humiliation.

"O-okay!" He called after her, though the likeliness of hearing him was probably far gone since she was already in the kitchen by then.

Y/N grasped the bridge of her nose between her for dinner and thumb, letting out an exasperated sigh as the tap water still poured, pattering against the metal sink.

'He totally caught me staring,' she thought. Though her self-control was usually tempered, easily under restraint, it melted into a helpless puddle when Donatello's presence was made known around her. Hell, even passing up the open doorway of his lab as he worked was a strain, and Y/N found herself peeking in curiously as his eyes fixated carefully, passionately over a project as he worked.

It took every willful ounce in her body not to just snatch the tails of his violet bandana and yank him in for a savory kiss every time he was a few feet away from her.

Her brain, exhausted from such thoughts, tried to focus on her footfalls, the wrinkle of pop-tart wrappers, the clinking of ice against glass cups, a cool contrast against Y/N's warm arms.

She halted directly outside of the workshop, inhaled, exhaled, and then rounded the corner to see-

Nobody? Weird. Perhaps Donnie had gone to his lab to grab more tools or just put them away since the aforementioned bucket of appliances had gone missing right along with their possessor.

"Huh. Weird." Y/N thought aloud, and then after looking over her shoulder and out of the doorway, she decided that she might check out the inside of the truck. After all, it had been some time since she'd seen it and was rarely able to because of the lack of missions she joined in on.

She set the two cups of water and foil packages gently on a nearby bench, before making her way towards the rear entrance. Y/N's hands settled on the large iron handle wrapping their small extent around it and then pulled down with all of her strength.

Man, the brothers made it look so easy, and by the time the lever reached its lowest point with a loud click, she had managed to work up a bit of a sweat.

The door, a huge garage-like lift system on the back end of the truck, began to lift, creaking and groaning as it did so. Y/N smiled, eyes glancing down carefully as her feet made contact with each rising step into the truck.

However, her plan had been spoiled, if you could even call it that. Because, just as she was entering the vehicle, it seemed Donatello would be exciting. As Y/N looked up from the final footstep, and Donnie from his tech pad, their noses and mouths bumped, and all was still. Both of their bright eyes were wide with shock and unbearable mortification at the sensation of petal-soft skin against cool scales, lips awkwardly resting upon one another.

They both pulled away as fast as they had come together, though Y/N had been so caught up in her humiliation, that she forgot about the staircase behind her and lost footing. An abrupt shout escaped her lips, helplessly flailing her arms in the air to grab onto something and a strong pair of arms had quickly caught her.

When the girl hesitantly opened an eye to analyze her seemingly unfortunate position, all she was met with, was the shine of Donnie's lustrous eyes, glinting in the bright lights of the workshop. Both were heaving breaths, adrenaline rushing from the swiftness of this occurrence.

"Thanks..." Y/N managed to squeak, trying to calm the furious blush and racing tempo of her heart at the touch of Donatello's strong arms still wrapped around her, "I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes..."

At her remark, Donnie's expression seemed to relax, and he let out a little giggle of amusement. Y/N smiled softly, and then placed the tip of her finger on the bridge of his snout, accompanied with a small 'boop!' That made him laugh even more and then a snort, something he didn't seem to proud of.

"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" She asked, rather abruptly, and the blunt question caught the turtle off guard. She wanted to smack herself across the face at the spilling of her internal conflicts but figured that doing so would cause her further embarrassment. Instead, Y/N was stuck trying to interpret Donatello's dumbstruck expression.

"E-erm, uh no. No, I don't think you've told me that..." Stupid, stupid stupid! What a response! Donnie's mind quipped, Could have at least said thank you... "Y/N..."

"Yeah, Don?"

His answer was completely wordless, just boring endlessly into her sparkling eyes. Though his next move seemed to be a more suited response.

Before he could stop himself, Donnie closed the short distance between and capturing her mouth in a short kiss, tightening the strong grasp of his forearms around her waist and back.

Y/N blinked once. Twice. And nothing shifted, though seemed completely unreal, like one of the hallucinations that she'd conjured in her mind before.

But this was just so... Real. He pulled away before Y/N could fully process what was going on, leaving her mouth to chase after his momentarily.

"You're really... U-um, Y/N I think you're beautiful. And I have this strangely romantic fascination with you..." Donnie trailed off, realizing how utterly stupid he must sound, however, the girl held tightly in his arms found it extraordinarily romantic.

Her fingers danced around the back of his neck snatched the tails of his silk bandana, and then pulled him in again, this time for a lingering address on the lips, tilting her head just slightly to deepen it. Donnie let out a short squeak of surprise, that faded into a satisfied chirp, bellowing from his throat.

They broke away, heaving puffs of air, and idiot-like grins spread across their faces.

"I really like you too Donnie."

"I'm glad," he breathed, just inches away from her face, "cause now we can work together and you don't have to hide staring at my legs."

Y/N flushed immensely before swatting his chest repeatedly, trying to hide her smile at his amused laughter.

"Donatello I will take away your pop tart privileges!"

fin💜

[imasimpforshanks]

Heyyyyyy hiiiiii hope your having an awesome day drinking that water getting hydrated 😗. I was wondering if you could do a Law Angst alphabet please. But only if you feel up to it and have time. If you don’t feel free to ignore or do it later here now have a cookie 🍪 because your awesome 😊

Angst Alphabet - Trafalgar Law

a/n: HI HI!!! thank you for your kind words!! I hope you are looking after yourself <333 here is the law angst! Please enjoy 🥰

A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)

He would only blame himself if any of his actions led to the accident that caused your death (we’ve seen him blame himself for that very reason about Rosinantes death). If his actions weren’t directly correlated to your death in any way then he would not blame himself, though he would kick himself for not being able to help you in time. Other than that, Law is painfully aware of the harsh reality that is life.

B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)

Law would break up with you in a seemingly emotionless way. He’d mask his true feelings, while telling you a whole bunch of excuses why the two of you could no longer be together. He doesn’t believe any of them, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do.

C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)

I feel like I’ve used this one in a few other character alphabets but it really applies to Law too. He would cause you to stress and panic so much over his health and wellbeing. He’s a literal doctor. He should know to take better care of himself, but he just doesn’t seem to care about himself the same way you do. So it isn’t until you’re crying in front of him, spilling your heart out about how concerned you are for his safety that he realizes his health is important to more than just himself.

D-Death (how would they react to your death?)

My god, if Law was to lose another person that he loved, he literally would never want to let himself get close to anyone ever again. Your death would be it for Law. He’d basically be on the verge of giving up himself. What other reason does he have to go on.

E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)

He tries to hide every emotion. Law doesn’t like to be too open, out of fear of people using it against him or it simply being too much of a sign of weakness. So, very rarely does he let his emotions show. He also tries to divert attention away from himself in hopes that people won’t focus on him or his emotions for too long.

F-Fight (do you two ever fight? How big are the fights? What do you fight about? Etc.)

This was covered in his fluff alphabet! But here it is again:

Your fights tend to be pretty short lived resulting in forgiveness and apologies from both sides relatively quickly. He really doesn’t like to stay mad at you for too long – he’d much rather have you two on the same page.

Most fights are caused by stress and concerns of health and safety, so Law does a lot of eye rolling and using his title as a ‘doctor’ as justification that he knows what he’s doing so you just need to chill – but like I said these fights are very short lived.

G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)

Law will never forgive himself for Rosinantes death. He will forever feel responsible for his death – it was all his fault. If only he hadn’t given that note to Vergo, then Rosinante would still be alive. He died because of Law’s incompetence (at least that’s what he tells himself).

H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)

During a break-up Law would act pretty normal. He wouldn’t behave any differently until he’s left alone. Only then would he let himself go and truly feel that heartbreak.

I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?)

Thanks to the doctor in him, Law is able to remain calm. He can keep his composure until he administers whatever treatment necessary. That’s not to say he isn’t worried though. He’s just capable of focusing on the injury right in front of him.

Only once he is certain that you are stable does he (or potentially his crew) go and hunt down the cause of your beating.

J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)

When Law does get jealous (which is rarely), he gets quiet. His fists clench a little more, and his frown deepens. He also speaks less than usual (which is already pretty hard to beat). He only gives you short snippy replies until he eventually gets over it.

K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)

Law would kill for revenge, yes. He literally wanted to kill Doflamingo as revenge for Rosinante. However, it was in Law’s plan that Kaido would be the one to kill Doflamingo (after they fought) – so I believe that is how he’d kill for revenge as well. He would devise a fool proof plan (okay maybe not fool proof, bc if the straw hats are involved who knows what could go wrong).

In short, yes. Law would kill for revenge.

L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)

This poor man has suffered so much loss in his life that it’s actually really difficult to choose which would be his greatest loss. He lost his entire family as a young boy while also having a shortened lifespan himself. Losing his family, and the realization that he only had a few more years to live, really made him lose his will to live a good remainder of his life. Young Law literally became a pirate.

However, he did meet Rosinante (Corazon) and he gave him another reason to live. Furthermore, Rosinante actively sought out a cure for Law so that he could continue to live a long life. Basically, Rosinante became a father figure/older brother to Law. So, losing him – another ¬person he loved so dearly – would have been beyond devastating.

M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?)

There was one day where he spent the entire day ignoring you. It was completely unintentional. His mind was swarming with plans and all this other information that has just come in. He got so immersed in it that he didn’t talk to you or tell you what was going on for a whole day.

N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?)

Nightmares are one of the many reasons Law hardly ever sleeps. He’s haunted by his family’s and Rosinantes deaths. His nightmares get particularly bad around the same time each year (that is, around the time of year that they died). He wakes up trembling and on the verge of tears (but he never lets them fall). Instead of even trying to go back to sleep, he’ll make himself a nice hot cup of coffee and immerse himself in a book or work of some kind – anything to avoid going back to sleep and risking a re-run of that horrible nightmare.

O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)

Sometimes his exhaustion catches up to him and other times its all the stress building up that finally he snaps and all the emotions are too overwhelming that he just directs it to the nearest outlet, which just so happens to be you.

P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)

You walked in on him absolutely breaking down over Rosinante. One evening Law retreated to his room while you and the rest of the crew were eating and drinking. He didn’t think you had noticed him leave, but soon you were following after him. You opened the door and found him breaking down in the middle of the room. You completely forgot that it was the anniversary of Rosinantes death. It was the first time you had seen him this distraught and it broke your heart.

It really cemented into your brain that no matter how tough he may look, he still suffers (probably more so than anyone). But, you were also grateful that you were able to see him like that, as it allowed him to start relying on you a little more.

Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?)

His inability to openly express his emotions. Sure, now he will share with you how he is feeling, but that is with you and ONLY you. He still insists on keeping everything else bottle away from the rest of the world which is a really unhealthy way to deal with things. It’s not that you dislike being there for him, in fact, you appreciate how trusting he is with you. It’s just, what if there comes a time where you aren’t around and he’s in desperate need of someone to confide in?

R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around)).

Law would wait until he was 100% certain you returned his feelings to confess to you. So, if you were to reject his confession he would be really confused for a while. He’d let it go because well, everyone has their own reasons – its not his place to tell you how you feel. All he can do is tell you how he feels and then the rest is up to you.

S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)

He has no self-inflicted scars, and to my knowledge he has no battle scars either. But, his arm did get cut off and then reattached during the Dressrosa arc, so it actually is likely that there is a remaining scar from that (although I’m not certain).

T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?)

Nope not at all. In fact, the only instance in which he would possibly break your trust, or lie to you, about is when he went to Punk Hazard and sent his crew to Zou. Some would assume that he wouldn’t tell you his plan out of fear of your safety, but that’s not true. He had to tell you. You taught him to be open and honest, and to trust. So that’s exactly what he did.

U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)

Law has gotten so comfortable around you that whenever you aren’t there, he gets unbearably anxious. Your presence is soothing, even if he can’t see you, even if he can only hear your voice echoing throughout the Polar Tang, it’s enough to put his mind at ease. So, if you are separated for a while… oh boy does he want to see you badly.

V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?)

He tends to yell at you. He tells you to “piss off” and that “you’re only being a nuisance right now”, despite you only wanting to help him.

W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?)

Not being able to control things makes Law feel really weak. Weak may not be the right word, but it definitely makes him feel unprepared. He doesn’t like when things are out of his control and he can’t account for things. Which is usually why he always does extensive research and preparation before constructing a well thought out plan.

X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)

Well, I mean other than his obvious hatred of bread, Law also really hates when he works extremely hard on formulating a plan only for it to be completely thrown out of the window by a reckless straw hat wearing captain and his entire crew. (and somehow everything still ends up working out!!! That is the part that frustrates Law the most HAHAH).

Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)

One of the only things he’s ever really wanted was for Doflamingo to be taken down. He’s been partially successful in that sense, seeing as Doflamingo is in prison now. However, he wants more than that. He wants Doflamingo to suffer the same way he has.

Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)

It may seem a little out of character but… I believe Law would be borderline desperate/inconsolable. There would be a lot of clinging on to you, begging you not to leave him like everyone else he’s ever loved. He can’t handle another person leaving him, it’s too much. It’s far too much.

He wouldn’t cry (just yet), but his voice would tremble, and his hands would be shaking. His mind would be racing with all sorts of theories and possible ways he could save you. How could he possibly prevent the inevitable?

[fan-written]

Meet cute Monday

---

"Is that a Crossword?"

---

It wasn't the screech of tires that caught her attention first. That was pretty common around Gotham. The yelling was too. And she had barely glanced at the black van that squealed past her at a speed sure to be unsafe. Even the gun fire was barely a note in her mind after she absently gauged it's distance.

No, by this point Marinette was used to all that.

What she wasn't used to was a boy leaping out of the window of said van and rolling to a stop at her feet. In her civilian form at least.

She blinked down at him in surprise, her mouth slightly agape. Intense, dark eyes blinked back up at her and she noticed he was less of a boy and more of a man. Probably a year older than her at most.

She also noticed he was rather handsome and his lips alone made her want to sketch. She quickly shoved that thought out of her mind, though. After all, he did just jumped out of a vehicle of gun toting probably criminals.

"Is that a crossword book?"

Marinette jerked slightly, shocked that he spoke to her. She blinked once more at him, looked at the puzzle book in her arm, glanced at the direction the van went, and finally returned her gaze to him.

"Yes?" She had to double check that it was, because that really shouldn't be the first question someone asked after jumping out of a moving van. "I, are you alright? You just-" she gestured to the road then down at him. "And now you're here. Should you really be asking about my puzzles?"

A gun shot and an engine roaring interrupted his reply and they both looked up to find the van turing back around the corner, racing towards them.

"Fuck!" The stranger quickly stood. He turned and almost ran into her in his haste to run. She barely caught the flicker of surprise that she was still there before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a sprint. The small alley way he pulled her into already felt safer since the van wouldn't be able to follow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry about this," he called out over his shoulder. "Really. It's just, they saw you and who knows what those shithead's would do to a beautiful girl like you. Especially since they saw you with me."

Marinette stumbled the first few steps, but easily settled into the run after that. She sent a silent apology to Tikki as her bag bounced against her leg. "Why would being seen with you be a problem?" She asked, desperately hoping he wouldn't look back at her. If he did then maybe he'd think her blush was just from the sudden exertion and not him calling her beautiful.

"You don't know?" Unfortunately he did glance back then and Marinette caught the pleased smirk tugging on his lips before he turned back to guide them. "You're holding hands with Bruce Wayne's most recent adopted son. I'm worth big money to some of the criminally minded."

"So you were kidnapped?" She tried to keep her voice normal, but now that he'd pointed it out all she could think about was how his hand wrapped entirely around her wrist. Honestly she wasn't that surprised it came out more like a squeak.

She tried to tug her arm away since she was keeping up fine without it, but the Wayne boy suddenly turned into a small alcove. The harsh yank on her arm that followed pulled her clumsiness to the forefront and she tumbled gracelessly into his hard chest.

Marinette opened her mouth to question him, but he shushed her with a finger to her lips. Instead he pressed her deeper into the corner, behind him. She subtly moved her purse so she wasn't squishing Tikki.

The shadowed corner was small, barely enough for one person, let alone two. It might have just been his body blocking the light, but Marinette felt that it was darker than it had been only seconds before.

Everything was still. She breathed shallowly, matching the Wayne in front of her. Both trying to silence their heaving chests begging for air so the could listen.

Several feet pounded down the cement from the direction they just came. Wayne turned around and lifted his hood up from his black jacket. Marinette could barely make out his eyes in the darkness. Would the goons even see them if they could hardly see each other?

Marinette held her breath, head tilted so she could listen as they ran past their hiding place. Her hands tightened around the shirt and book she held within them. Her body though settled into a relaxed state, ready to attack or defend if necessary.

She didn't notice, but the Wayne had done the same.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was only seconds, the sounds of the kidnappers were gone. Marinette let out a long sigh and rested her head against the chest in front of her. It had been a while since she had to hide like that. Most of the recent Akumas had to be fought head on.

She probably would have stayed as she was to collect herself if she hadn't felt like she was shaking. Marinette couldn't quite figure out why since she'd stopped having panic attacks after every life threatening experience years ago. Then a pair of arms tightened around her and she remembered she's not the only one around.

Marinette jerked her head back, and slammed it into the wall behind her. The muffled laugh escaped for half a second until a hand buried it again. She absently rubbed her new goose egg and glanced up into mirthful eyes. The heavy darkness seemed to have dissipated and she chalked it up to the fear of being caught.

he shouldn't be laughing though. She shouldn't laugh too. None of this was funny. But it kind of was. It's not every day she gets attractive men throwing themselves at her feet.

And that's the thought that got her. Because once an Akuma made all men do just that.

The first giggle escaped and her face matched Wayne's now, with wide eyes and a hand covering her mouth. They both had another staring contest, but this time it was broken by laughter.

"Sh-shhhh! They- they might come back," she whispered.

Wayne nodded but neither of them could stop, especially when they looked at one another. "I know," he said between gasps. "It's not, it's not even that funny."

Marinette shook her head, but couldn't answer because another bout of giggles took over. Finally she gave up and rested her head against him just so she wouldn't look at his face again. She could feel him lean into her, relaxing against the wall, but keeping them safe if the villains returned.

Slowly the laughter died, occasional giggles escaping like hiccups as they calmed down. Marinette sighed again, more out of breath from their laughter than their run.

"Running from life threatening situations usually doesn't make me that giddy." She kept her face down, afraid she'd laugh again if they shared eye contact.

He hummed and she could feel it against her cheek. "Yeah, I don't think I've ever reacted like that. Wait!" He pulled away and she had no choice but to look at him. "How many life threatening situations have you been in if you know what your usual reaction would be?"

She shrugged, hoping he would take the non answer. She doubted it, based on the look he was giving her, like she was a puzzle he needed to solve. "What about you?" She deflected. "You know your usual reaction too."

"I'm a fuckin' Wayne. Of course I've been in these kind of situations before." His deadpan stare told her he wasn't fooled, but she was off the hook for now.

"Oh yes," she snapped her fingers. "The newest Wayne Adoptee. You mentioned that, but I still don't know your name. I mean, you did run off with me, and now you've got me pressed against the wall. That's like first date material right there." She smirked up at him, hoping it would distract him.

Instead he grinned back, happily taking the challenge issued. "Duke Thomas-Wayne. And you, ma'am, must have had some shitty first dates if you think this would count as one." He looked her over as if finally taking in her appearance. His eyes paused on the book in her arm, before returning to her face. "And you definitely deserve something better."

She blushed, begging the shadows to hide it but knowing it was futile. She refused to lose their verbal spar though. "W-well, maybe I haven't found anyone worth better?" She cocked her hip and lifted an eyebrow.

Duke chuckled, just as pleased as her with their banter. "I might be able to change your mind, if you don't mind giving your name?"

"Marinette," she said while holding out her hand. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You've left quite the first impression Monsieur Thomas-Wayne. I don't often have men leaping out of cars to meet me."

This time his smile turned sheepish, but not for long. "Well Miss Dupain-Cheng," he gently took her hand, "it's not every day I find myself staring up at a goddess. One who even shares a favorite hobby of mine." He gestured at the puzzle book. "But maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere." He glanced behind him at the empty ally way. "Hopefully without any villains nearby. Maybe at a coffee shop?"

Marinette nodded, pulling her hand from his. Finally he stepped away and Marinette could breath. Somehow she was genuinely flirting. And it was working!

She grinned up at him, far to happy for the situation they still had to successfully escape from. "It sounds like a date!"

[asexual-abomination]

Plat!Yan!Chrollo x Autistic!Reader x Plat!Yan!PT - Soulmate AU Part 5

The final part is finally here! It did manage to delete itself a couple of times, but I was finally able to recover it! I really hope you can enjoy this end to the series!

As always, this idea was inspired by the lovely @kiame-sama! I have no traditional education in writing, so any and all advice is appreciated!

Requests will be opening shortly after this goes up, I'm just writing up some final rules!

Hope you enjoy reading!

-----

Night had fallen over the city by the time you were left alone.

You could feel your heart pounding through your body, scared beyond reason by the insane situation you found yourself in.

It seemed to have become a theme in the past few days, carefully setting forth a plan only to be thrown into some absolute catastrophe.

Over the course of the day, you had been dragged around to many random people, security workers and police officers all asking you questions and getting irate when you couldn't tell them everything. Some of them had tried to be kinder to you, speaking in lower tones and going slower, but they were all showed that they were upset when you refused certain details.

You couldn't tell them now, but all you wanted was to keep them safe, hoping that your soulmate would take mercy on them if you were found now. Marnie had been kind enough to keep you company through the entire day, though she wasn't the nicest either, and she had been the last one you saw when she dropped you off at this meagre hotel.

It was a large, cement high rise building on a dimly-lit street, with cheap furniture that probably didn't even get washed between visitors. When you first considered trying to sleep, you found that the blankets were made of scratchy, harsh material that made your whole body cringe away in disgust. That wasn't even to note that they were too light and thin to provide you with any comforting weight.

Anyone would think that you had no more tears to spare today, but as you finally sat on the worn-down chair, you began to choke up with stress. You had heard many counselors and friends say that anxiety could be much like droplets in a bucket, slowly building up in the mind until it could burst into tears, but you had never thought that you would feel stress as immense as this.

There was no need to move right now, you could just cry and choke on your breath, and there was almost something comforting about the all of the emotion of the moment.

That peace that you were trying to enjoy as you sobbed was quickly broken by a new voice in the room.

"(Y/N). I'm sorry."

With a sharp gasp, you looked up to find the intruder, only to see Jo leaned against the far wall of your room. They were looking at you, apologetically staring with sadness in their expression.

"I didn't - I didn't predict that there would be an issue with the airship. Now they've found you." They continue to speak with almost ominous tone, voicing their concern with a tired sigh.

They've found you? Your soulmate? Already? Who were these people, and why were they so obsessed with finding you?

As if you hadn't been overwhelmed enough, Jo had truly decided to drop a bombshell on you at this moment. In utter confusion, you looked towards your friend for any explanation.

Jo sighed again, looking away with despair, "They're minutes away as we speak. We can't run or fight." They paused again, contemplating as they look at you with a soft expression, "I - I don't know what to do."

-----

"Alright! This is where (Y/N)'s being held!" Shalnark's cheery voice rang out through the dark street, cutting through the tense atmosphere surrounding the other Troupe members.

"Would you like one of us to accompany you inside?" Pakunoda asked Chrollo, who stood closest to the building's doors.

The Troupe leader sighed as he turned towards his friend, his expression dropping at her question. He could understand the obsession that the rest of his subordinates had for his soulmate, but he knew that he had to be the first one to see his (Y/N) in person.

They had all seen your little friend sneak in through the window of your room, and Chrollo knew that he wanted the joy of getting rid of them himself. Pakunoda watched his expression carefully, and quickly stepped back, as if to give up on her own question, knowing better than to irritate her boss further.

The remaining members on the scene all took a step back, allowing Chrollo the freedom to enter the building, with a silent promise that no one would be leaving or entering while they stood guard.

-----

To both Chrollo and Jo, there was a deafening silence in this moment. Chrollo stood in the doorway of the small hotel room, not even glancing at his rival, as his eyes were immediately fixated on his soulmate, now finally sat before him.

To you, still sat between these two, there was not quite a silence, as you could hear the soft hum of old electrics hidden in the walls of this dingy place, almost comforting in the face of such intimidating auras.

"(Y/N)!" Chrollo's voice cut through the room, overflowing with joy as he stared at you. He had known that he would be happy in this moment when he could finally lay his own eyes on you, but he could have never predicted the way his heart would twist and flip with bliss in your mere presence.

That bliss was quickly cut off by Jo stepping in front of you, though their breath was shaky with fear at the prospect of fighting in your presence. The second that they had stepped out, Chrollo's expression darkened, as he immediately allowed his aura to flash out, quickly met by Jo's in an equal amount.

Not wanting to hesitate for a moment, Chrollo drew his knife and summoned his book, ready to kill at a moment's notice.

"I let you run once, I think you should be grateful for that, you little pest." His voice had a threatening tone, and though he wouldn't admit it, he almost hoped that Jo would run scared, so that he wouldn't have to kill them.

Against his hopes, your valiant guardian stood firm, though they were shaking just slightly. It was no secret that Chrollo would win this fight, Jo was heavily out of practice and stressed from days without sleep, and Chrollo would stop at nothing to reach his treasured soulmate.

"Wait." Your voice was hushed in the tense atmosphere.

-----

The Troupe had begun to worry when there was no sign of their boss for nearly 15 minutes, especially given that there hadn't been any sign of violence from within your room.

"Do you think that the boss got ambushed?" Shizuku wondered aloud, not expressing any real anxiety just yet.

"I do not think boss would get ambush that easy." Feitan was more suspicious of the silence, knowing that Chrollo had been very cautious when entering the hotel.

They continued to wait outside of the building, patiently watching every possible exit. Only a few members of the Troupe were here to see the new soulmate, with the rest searching the city for a decent place to keep you temporarily.

"Oh, look!"

Their heads quickly swiveled to the doorway, watching with a level of shock as Chrollo stepped out of the hotel, holding a new figure very close to his side. This new person was hunched, as if on the verge of pulling away from his touch, and was anxiously tugging at something in their hands.

Most of the members present recognized the sweet face of the sought after soulmate, and those who hadn't seen them before promptly caught on. However, that didn't clear up any confusion among the members.

"What happened to their friend? Did you kill them?" Shizuku was once again the first to break the silence, making you flinch at the bold and brash question.

Chrollo was swift in shutting down further questions, pulling you towards the getaway car, before suddenly telling everyone else to leave.

"Everything has been sorted, I'll tell you the details later. Where are we staying?" Chrollo was incredibly brief, a sharp tone to his voice that most Troupe members only heard after they almost botched a mission.

"There's a hotel in the city center that works for the mafia, we've booked you a couple of rooms!" Shalnark tried to walk over towards the car, wanting answers to this whole situation like the others. However, the quick spike in his boss' aura put him off immediately from that idea.

"Good. Send me the details, and I'll contact one of you tomorrow sometime." Once again, the Troupe leader sounded just slightly angered, a great change from his usual demeanor.

Chrollo quickly stepped into the car, breaking his anger for just a moment to glance at you with a soft smile.

"Don't worry about a thing, dear. Thank you so much for working with me here." He quickly began driving, shooting towards the new hotel and away from your friend's solemn gaze in the window.

"We've got our whole lives ahead of us now. Don't think about them too much."

-----

"Wait." Your voice was hushed in the tense atmosphere.

No amount of breathing exercises could have kept you calm in that moment, but you knew that there was no other option in this situation.

"I'll - I'll go with you. Chrollo." You surrendered yourself with fear, wanting to be careful with how you worded every part of this.

As both of their gazes fell on you, every nerve in your body felt as if it froze up, not wanting to speak another word, but knowing you had to.

"If I can prevent one of you from dying, I'd rather end this situation without a fight."

These two were supposed to be the closest people to your heart in the whole world. Jo, your oldest friend who had always protected you from what you couldn't understand in this world, and Chrollo, your destined soulmate, the one that the universe itself claimed would be the greatest friend that you could ever have.

You had understood since you were young that you wouldn't often be able to truly affect the world around you, always to slow to catch on or say something, but in this moment you could save someone you love, so you had to do something.

"(Y/N), no! Don't be stupid for me!" Jo was quick to interject, evidently trying to drag you back to your senses.

"I think it's their choice to make." Chrollo's deeper voice rang out through the room, reverberating through what felt like your whole body, a soft smirk appearing on his features.

"Look. I..." You trailed off, almost not ready to be so bold in what you were going to say next, "I want to keep both of you safe, and, well, from where I stand, the best way to do that is to end this... peacefully."

"Well then, come here." With his small smirk growing into a wide grin, Chrollo opened his arms just slightly, welcoming you in.

You felt almost to weak to stand, and as you did many times when you felt weak in the past, you looked to Jo.

"I won't stop you, I mean, I can't." They spoke after a brief pause, "But this is the wrong decision."

Although your heart was pained by their words, you knew that you had to take this next step on your own, for their own safety.

So, with shaky strides as Jo stepped to the side, you moved towards Chrollo, right into his waiting arms. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you in tight to his chest, not letting you see the evil grin he sent Jo's way.

"Let's go, dear, everyone's waiting."

With all that had happened, you felt a lot less need to hold back your tears.

-----

Thanks for reading!

[writingdayandnight]

Line Without a Hook - Rafael Barba Imagine

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader (Fem. Pronouns) 

Word Count: 2650

A/N: Inspiration struck, perhaps a little OOC. Will probably go back later and edit. Just a little treat for everyone who misses Barba like I do. 

10:56 PM.

There was not a doubt in Rafael’s mind that he would not be home until after midnight. This case had been excruciating--brutal, really. Everyone had been pushed to their breaking point. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this case.

And here Rafael was with a pen cap fastened between his teeth, struggling to write an opening argument. It all seemed trivial. That words had the power to make or break a month’s worth of hard work. And that all he could think about was going home to his partner. 

He wouldn’t allow himself the privilege of a break until he finished his opening and prepped the summations, which was always his least favorite part. Tying everything together with a neat bow seemed to minimize the effort put into seeking justice. But it was his strong suit. There wasn’t a jury he couldn’t convince if given enough leeway during summations. 

His mind wandered yet again, back to the person that was waiting for him. He knew she would still be waiting for him when he got home, undoubtedly doing work of her own. She found solace in the quiet of the night. She would sit at the dining table with papers scattered across the surface, highlighters uncapped, lukewarm tea cooling unforgotten. 

Then there were her expressions. A furrowed brow while drafting a proposal. A lip bite accompanied by pensive tapping on the table. Her head slowly moving to the beat of the music that was playing from the speaker in the corner of the room. An exasperated sigh escaping as she typed another after-hours email. All of these things were the tiny details that Rafael loved noticing, learning, anticipating.

Finally, Rafael caved and placed a long-awaited phone call.

“Raf,” she answered, voice as tender as kiss goodbye.

“Cariño,” he replied, feeling a million times better just knowing she was on the opposite end of the line.

“When will you be home?” He could hear her trying to hide a yawn behind the scenes.

“Not any time soon.”

“Rafael, please take care of yourself,” she pleaded, yet it was to no avail. She knew this.

“I have to finish this prep, Cariño.” He could hear her eyes roll from across the line, “I bet you’re still doing work, too.”

“That’s none of your business,” she retorted, with a guilty shift in energy. 

“Take care of yourself,” he repeated, “I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up.” 

“I love you.”

His heart grew full, “I love you more.”

Rafael ended the call, reclining in his leather chair. He had been overcome by love, both for his partner and for the way his life had been going lately. Despite the monstrosities he witnessed at work, everything had been going well. Even then, he enjoyed working with his coworkers; they acted as a support system, making the job a little more bearable. 

Then there was his love life. For once, everything was going right. He felt loved, supported, and capable of doing the same for his partner. It had been too long since he had that privilege. He knew too well the outcomes of a loveless life and he was trying desperately to escape them. Deep down, he understood that he didn’t deserve that. 

But there were times where he thought he didn’t deserve the love he had stumbled into. Never in a million years would he have thought that he would have fallen in love with the girl from the bar. 

The rain had finally let up outside, encouraging a few stragglers to clear the bar. Rafael remained, nursing a scotch on the rocks, muttering to himself about the news on the television overhead. It was a bunch of nonsense about the news anchor he and the SVU squad had just charged. He couldn’t listen much longer. 

A gust of wind hit as the door to Forlini’s opened; it sent shivers down Rafael’s back. Inquisitively, Rafael turned to see the person who just waltzed into the bar. Much to his surprise, it was a beautiful woman. He smirked and returned to his drink, secretly hoping that she would find her way to the bar.

She did just that, taking a seat two stools down from Rafael. He continued to watch the television, discreetly listening to her conversation with the bartender. Small talk. Nothing more, nothing less. Aside from her order--a vodka cranberry. 

“Will you get a load of this idiot?” She chirped, scoffing at the story of the news anchor. Her head was tilted in Rafael’s direction. 

He took a moment to answer, pausing to make sure she was directing her remarks towards him. 

“He’s surely a handful,” Rafael replied. 

Just then, his face appeared on the television screen. They had played his interview on the courthouse steps. He had been ambushed by the press, and even though he delivered better than most, it was not his best work. He silently thanked the Lord that the sound was off.

“Is that you?” She asked, spinning in her seat to face Rafael.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s a shame, you look better in person,” she tisked, taking another sip of her drink.

Rafael couldn’t respond out of awe. No, that wasn’t the right word. He couldn’t respond because he was flustered. That was a first. 

“Sorry, it’s the vodka talking,” she retracted, making a face that suggested she was embarrassed. 

“No, I’m flattered. It’s not everyday the pretty girl at the bar tells me how attractive I look while sulking alone.”

“This is your version of sulking? Sitting at a bar surrounded by a bunch of people?”

“Perhaps,” he smirked, “Rafael,” he offered his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was named after a comic book character, please don’t give my parents that kind of credit,” she laughed. It was contagious, infecting Rafael with an affliction that could not be easily cured. Not without an exchange of numbers and a couple of dates.

The memories of their first meeting flooded Rafael’s mind. It further distracted him from the task at hand. But how could he not think of the most impactful night of his life? Screw graduating from law school or getting promoted; nothing could top falling in love with Y/N. 

Nothing could top her love. From the little notes she dropped in Rafael’s briefcase to the silent support she offered when Rafael was not strong enough to ask for it. That’s when his mind wandered even farther, thinking back to the night he decided he was in love with Y/N. 

Rafael sat on the couch in a near-catatonic state. He couldn’t muster enough energy to move. His mind kept circling back to the horrors he had witnessed over the past 24 hours. In his ten years, never once had a case hit him this hard. It just cemented the callousness of man, something he had been trying to deny for so long. There was no such thing as a good person.

There was a knock at the door, a sound that should have startled him. Instead he was too lost in thought to react. He simply got up from the couch and headed to the door, only to be greeted by Y/N on the other side. 

“Rafael,” she mused, before noticing the hurt behind his eyes, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She invited herself in, dropping her overnight bag by the door. Concern washed over her.

Rafael tried to speak but no words came out. He couldn’t find the right thing to say. His choices were to expose Y/N to the horrors of his job or simply keep it bottled up. His choice was the latter; he couldn’t bear the thought of unloading this grief on her. 

“Raf, please talk to me,” she quietly pleaded. 

He did not respond. Instead, he made his way to the couch, taking a seat in the same spot he had been sulking in for the past three hours. 

Y/N followed without command. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her hands gently around his arm. She placed a kiss on his cheek. It made Rafael’s heart jump, yet he still remained silent. 

But that didn’t deter Y/N. She remained glued to his side, occasionally laying a gentle kiss on him or drawing circles on his bicep. She didn’t push; she knew better than that. Still, just her presence brought Rafael to his knees. 

After an hour or so, Rafael could feel her heartbeat slow. He could see her eyes fluttering shut from the corners of his. 

“I love you,” he whispered, hoping that she wouldn’t hear. Rafael felt guilty saying those words for the first time in such a terrible state. 

“I love you more,” she replied, drifting into a slumber in his arms. 

Rafael knew this could never be true. 

The hands on the clock seemed to turn at an unprecedented pace, yet Rafael had gotten little done. It all seemed pointless. There had to be more to life than this. Hours spent in some poorly-lit office drinking dirt flavored coffee, waiting for his mind to stop running a marathon so he could focus. Watching people suffer everyday for some little bit of justice. Doubting the existence of good in the world with every passing moment. 

But the thing he couldn’t stand was being away from the love of his life. For such a pointless endeavor. It was pointless, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Not anymore. Not with the prospect of love sitting right in front of him. In that moment, he decided to be the most spontaneous he had ever been. 

He whipped open the bottom left drawer of his desk, pulled out a copy of his resignation letter, signed it, and placed it in the mailbox of his boss. He grabbed his jacket, briefcase, and cellphone before practically running to the lobby of Hogan Place. By a stroke of sheer luck, a taxi had been idling outside. Rafael got into the taxi without hesitation--or permission--and called out the address to the apartment he had shared with Y/N. Getting to their front door was his only objective. 

As he settled into the taxi, he reached inside of his briefcase and felt a small item lodged at the bottom. Rafael quizzically pulled it out, determining that it was cube-shaped. As it was illuminated by the passing streetlights, he recognized it instantly. And that’s where he decided to make the best decision of his life. 

“Mami, are you going to be okay if I’m gone for two weeks on vacation?” Rafael asked, changing a lightbulb in his mother’s apartment. 

It was a Saturday which meant it was his day to do chores around his mother’s apartment, with much reluctance on behalf of Lucia, while Y/N went through her laminated chore checklist back at their apartment. Rafael had come straight from his office, totally forgetting his to-dos. Until Y/N reminded him--a pretty common occurrence. 

“I promise, Mijo,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him down the step stool, “I’m just happy you’re taking time off.”

“Me too,” he sighed, a wave of bliss flooding his mind as he thought of going to Greece with Y/N. He’s dreamt of her sunburnt cheeks and wine-stained lips since the moment he bought the tickets. 

“It seems like an awfully romantic vacation. Have you thought about asking yet?” Lucia hinted, pointing to her ring finger. 

Rafael didn’t want to say ‘yes.’ He didn’t want to let her know that he had been planning it since their six-month anniversary. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved. 

“I’ve considered it,” he teased, “but Greece is too cliche. She wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“You underestimate her, Rafi. She loves you.” 

“And I love her. More than anything.” 

Lucia scoffed, furrowing her brow in disgust.

“Besides you, Mami,” he sang, pulling her in for a hug,

While in Rafael’s arms, Lucia slyly removed a small box from her pocket and slipped it into Rafael’s briefcase. It was his grandmother’s ring, the one she always talked about leaving for him. The one she made sure to mention everyday she was sick. Lucia would never forget something that important. 

Rafael grabbed his belongings with haste, basically throwing $50 at the cab driver, telling him to keep the tip. He slammed the door behind him, jogging to the apartment elevators. He was too lost in thought to greet the doorman or the security guard at the front desk. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.

The elevator couldn’t come fast enough--Rafael tapped his foot anxiously, cursing the damned thing. As soon as it opened, he pushed the 8th floor button at least ten times. He felt a rush of nausea, excitement, fear run over him. The elevator dinged and Rafael ran, rummaging through his pockets for his keys. 

He opened the door as fast as he could, revealing Y/N calmly making a cup of tea in the kitchen. Lamplight illuminated the living room. Her laptop was opened to a document, purple and yellow sticky notes scattered on the table. 2000s Pop Hits playing in the background. He had captured her in her natural element; he was witnessing the essence of Y/N.

“Baby, it’s midnight,” he spoke, calmer than he had been all day. 

“I know, but I was in the zone. I thought you wouldn’t be home tonight,” she answered, walking over to place a kiss on his lips, before strolling back to the kitchen to stop the whistling kettle. 

Rafael’s heart was beating out of his chest. His hands were shaking, mind racing. This was it. This felt right.

“Y/N?” 

“What’s up, babe?” She gently blew on her tea to cool it down. 

“I quit my job today.” 

Y/N almost did a spit, “I’m sorry, what?” She exclaimed.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. It broke me, Y/N.” He sighed, walking to her side, “There are better things in life than case briefs and court.”

Y/N was shocked but supportive, “Well, I’m glad you’re finally free. Why don’t you get ready for bed and sleep for the first time in a decade?” She laughed, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

“There’s one more thing,” Rafael said, reaching into his pocket and for the emerald box that housed his grandmother’s ring, 

Rafael expected the words to escape him; he hadn’t prepared anything in the taxi. These weren’t summations, he needed guidance.

But that didn’t stop him. 

“Y/N, you made me realize that I don’t want to live my life circling the drain and going through the motions. You have brought color to my black and white life. The joy you bring me everyday is immeasurable. Every second I spend away from you makes me feel like the world is ending. I can’t live without you, Y/N. That’s why I’m asking you-” Rafael began to bend his knee before Y/N cut him off.

“Yes! You don’t even have to ask. Yes, yes, yes!” She exclaimed, a tear already sliding down her cheek.

Rafael pulled out his grandmother’s golden ring from the box and slipped it on Y/N’s finger with extra care, as if she was made of glass. Tears had formed in his eyes as well, seeing the ring that reminded him so much of the other most important lady in his life. The most romantic person he had ever met. 

“I love you, Y/N. I wish I could have given you a better proposal, but I couldn’t wait,” he chuckled, once again admiring how well the ring hugged her fingers. 

“If you waited any longer, I was going to ask you,” she laughed, kissing him again and again. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, placing a kiss on Rafael’s neck.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 25)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6423 Warnings: mention of injuries, fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 24 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Time stands still like the eerie calm of the earth before a storm and in less than the blink of an eye things move all at once. The clouds break open with the downpour of your tears, a tornado sends you in a dizzying frenzy to change your clothes, hellish winds are unleashed that blow you across town so quickly you nearly forgot to take your phone with you as you scrambled out of the Uber that raced you to the hospital.

Sam’s call was brief. Bucky was brought into the emergency room by ambulance, fading in and out of consciousness from a car accident. Sam nearly went into shock himself seeing his friend littered in cuts and scrapes. You didn’t have time to ask much else, barely even changing out of your pajamas. You swapped thin bottoms for leggings, quickly grabbed your bra and threw a hoodie over it all, not thinking about how your hair looked or bothering to pick out the crust that just began to take root in the corner of your eyes. You grabbed a bag tossing in your keys and wallet and clutched your phone in hand to run downstairs.

The fluorescent lights are blinding as you enter the hospital, searching for Sam through the chaos of chatter and noise. The beep beep beep of machinery all around you, coughing, crying, moaning wails from people that want help or attention or just a place to sleep off their drunkenness. The ER was a maze you knew every route of but your mind pushed the knowledge out needing more space to panic.

Where is Bucky? Where is Sam?

You remembered the nurses’ station, sprinting towards it and happy to see a familiar face that does not recognize you right away. You didn’t expect Stacie to; you looked quite different when you were not put together in professional clothes and on the verge of bursting into tears and throwing up at the same time.

Together you quickly found Sam, unable to hold back the dam when you saw him and asked about Bucky.

“He went up into surgery.”

“Surgery!?” you cried out. “Is he going to be okay? Sam what happened?”

He let out a long and heavy sigh. The harsh lights above were unkind, showing the depths of the circles under his eyes.

“His leg is broken and he has some internal bleeding but we stabilized him and…”

You knew how hard Sam works, how everyone in this hospital works, getting an up close experience from your time there so you hated to be this person, frantic and begging for answers that he didn’t have.

“Doctor Palmer is an excellent surgeon. I’m gonna call her assistant now to let them know I’m sending you up.”

You nodded, biting your lip and roughly wiping away fresh tears. Sam pulled you into his chest and you felt your knees buckle. Bucky had to make it through surgery, he had to! A heavy sob wracked through you as you thought of the worst. Sam squeezed tighter, wishing he could stay with you upstairs through the surgery. Hell, he’d scrub in himself if they’d let him just so he could say he’s done everything to help his friend through this.

“I’ll be up when I can,” he promised, walking you towards the elevator.

You forced a worried smile. “Thanks Sam. Do you know… did anyone call his parents?”

Sam clenched his jaw as he thought about it. “It was pretty crazy in there, I’m not sure. I could fi–” He was interrupted by someone calling his name and you knew you had taken too much of his time already.

Your stomach dropped as the elevator went up, bringing you to an unfamiliar floor with unfamiliar faces that made you feel like an unwelcome stranger in someone’s home. You let the staff know you were here for James but a by-the-books nurse wasn’t keen on giving you information. Without thinking straight you had stupidly answered no when they asked if you were family, and when you asked if Bucky’s family was called she wouldn’t tell you.

You exhaled a deep, calming sigh, not wanting to yell at the person that was just doing their job, but as you sink into the uncomfortable chair you can’t help but silently cry to yourself. This woman doesn’t know how badly you need to know if Bucky’s okay. She doesn’t know that you spent the last few months ignoring him and wishing you could take it all back. She doesn’t know how much you miss him, how you love him. Even though he broke your heart you couldn’t help yourself from gluing the pieces back together and you needed to tell him, maybe you couldn’t tell him the truth but Bucky needed to at least know that you didn’t hate him.

The clock ticks away slowly and no one has come to speak with you. You stare at Winifred’s profile. She hasn’t updated her status since late in the afternoon. Does she know? Did anyone call them?

You decide they need to know, they need to be here just in case. A wave of nausea rolls over you at the thought and suddenly you become dizzy in your seat. You’re hot, sweating in the hoodie and yet you push on. Shaky fingers google his parent’s names and hometown in the hopes they are listed. You find a number, hesitant to call at this late of an hour. Rebecca was a few hours behind, and you debated messaging them in hopes of a fast reply. Should you do that? Should you be doing this at all?

Fuck.

If you had some answers you could at least feel a little better about all of this. You messaged Rebecca on Instagram telling them what happened and leaving your number. Your cheeks burn like lava as you rest your palm against them, dialing the number that google provided which may or may not be correct.

The phone rings and rings, and with each unanswered ring your stomach twists a little tighter. Relief comes but only slightly by way of Winnie’s bubbly voice prompting you to leave a message. Your voice shakes as you do, letting out a strangled cry as you leave them the limited details you knew about Bucky. Are they sleeping?

It doesn’t take long before your screen lights up with a number you don’t recognize and you were relieved to hear Winnie’s voice. Someone did call her and George, and they were on their way to the hospital.

“Rebecca sent me your number. I’m so happy you’re there. We’ll see you soon sweetheart,” she said, with sobs in her voice.

After hanging up you saw a message from Rebecca repeating what you already knew. They asked if it was okay to call you and you were thankful for the distraction. Together you tried to comfort each other, worrying about Bucky making it through surgery, about their parents driving with little sleep and so much on their minds.

“They’re here,” you said spotting George first from down the hallway, “I’ll call you back.”

It had been at least a half hour since their call and getting up from the chair was slow, your body ached from sitting for too long but you didn’t care. George and Winnie wrapped you in their arms, tears flowing as you embraced. The tears poured a little harder as you gripped them tightly, realizing how nice it was to see them again but wishing desperately it was under different circumstances.

George withdrew first, going up to the desk to let them know he was there. Winnie cupped your face softly, her hands were cold but it felt good against the heat of your skin. The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile that released more tears down her reddened cheeks, her eyes already swollen and full of spidery veins.

Together you waited. Talking, pacing, crying, waiting, waiting, waiting until a short woman in green scrubs called out for the Barnes family. The three of you jump up and you feel immediately sick, holding on to Winnie’s arm as you try to read the expression of the woman before she said anything.

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes my name is Doctor Palmer, I was the surgeon who worked on your son James.”

Winnie held your hand a little tighter, squeezing as every second went by until Dr. Palmer said he was stable and in recovery.

“He came in with blunt force trauma from a crash. He fractured two ribs and there was some internal bleeding from his spleen which we were able to repair with arterial embolization. However, James had a severe compound fracture of the tibia. We debrided the area and secured the bone with plates and screws. James is in the post op recovery room and he’s awake but not fully lucid.”

A collective sigh of relief filled the waiting room, with mixed tears of happiness flowing freely again. The doctor said a nurse would come by to bring you in to see him shortly and you couldn’t wait. You didn’t know what you would say to Bucky or if he would even be alert enough to hear you but you knew it was time to let him know that the past is in the past and you want to move forward.

A beat fills the room, steady like a metronome to keep the rhythm but the sound is unfamiliar. Too soft for the drums, not high enough for strings. Quick, simple. Piano? No. The sound isn’t broad enough. Keyboard? Yes. Electric, synthy. But it still sounds wrong.

Bucky tries to open his eyes but his lids are too heavy, bolted down by invisible chains. He sees the light of the sun through them. He tries to lift his arm to shut the blinds but even they are too sluggish to move, heavy like they were coated in cement.

He feels the scratch of a rough blanket against his skin, vague thoughts cross his tired mind wondering the whereabouts of his comforter. His toes are cold, feeling like tiny icicles are hanging off them. His right foot drags against the mattress. Was it always this uncomfortable? It’s his left foot that isn’t covered, a sock that probably came off in the night.

In a state of half sleep Bucky tries to wiggle the icicles off and suddenly his whole body feels like it’s been set ablaze. The beat quickens. A terrible pain fires through every nerve. There’s a sharp sensation in his hand when he tries to move it making him wince. His left side has a dull stabbing ache that increases as he takes a deep breath. Bucky feels sore all over like he was just hit by a–

And then he remembers.

His breaths are shallow, the tempo moving rapidly like the hook of an EDM song about to drop the beat as Bucky replayed the scene like a movie. He left the premier’s after party in an Uber never expecting the violent jolt of an SUV t-boning the car into a traffic pole. Everything after was a blur. There were flashing lights, noise, a steady bright light, an angel with the face of Y/N.

Bucky’s eyes fly open in state panic as he looks around wildly at his surroundings. His leg is in a cast, elevated by a sling. Needles in his arm, tubes around his nose, wires everywhere. He felt like a mess, he could only imagine he looked even worse but then all of his worries fade away when he sees Y/N, the angel at his side.

You’re asleep on the chair, elbow propped up on the wooden arm with your head leaning against your palm. It’s not comfortable at all but you didn’t complain, it wasn’t important. It was nearly five in the morning when Bucky was moved to a room. The walls were a dreadful sage green that looked more like dirty money in the dim light of dawn. The room was small but the lack of a second bed for the time being made things seem a little larger.

George went off in search of a third chair for the room as you and Winnie pulled yours up close to Bucky, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Sam came up to visit after his shift ended, introducing himself to Bucky’s parents. The tackling hug Winnie gave him was unexpected by his sleep deprived body but he accepted it all the same, giving her a reassuring hug that everything would be okay. Before he left you whispered a thank you in Sam’s ear, for treating Bucky and giving you a call. You promised to keep him updated as told him to get some rest, he certainly deserved it.

Bucky slept peacefully as you watched over him, your head falling forward and jolting you awake every time you had begun to fall asleep. Winnie had already fallen asleep but you were fighting against your body’s needs. You stared longingly at Bucky, wanting to be awake in case he woke up. George put a gentle hand on your shoulder, nodding with silent permission that it was okay to shut your eyes. A large black cup of coffee aided him in keeping watch and so you blinked slowly, your lids growing heavier with every languid motion until they remained shut for the next few hours. It wasn’t until the sound of rapid beeps that you were alerted into consciousness again.

Your head whipped up quickly with concern at the sound that slowly began to steady, finding Bucky awake with an ever so slight tug of a smile on his lips that grew once you locked eyes. It had been far too long since you looked at Bucky, truly looked at him without anger and heartache clouding your vision.

The scrapes and bruises that littered his face did not hinder any part of his handsomeness. His lips were dull and slightly chapped and yet it didn’t stop you from wanting to press yours against them. You lifted your eyes towards his, feeling blessed to be able to stare at the most beautiful shade of blue once more. They glistened with unshed tears as Bucky gazed back at you.

Your own tears came instantly, falling down the curves of your smile as you leaned over him. Your name fell softly from his lips and hesitantly you lifted your hand, wanting to reach out and caress his face. You pulled it back, dropping your head for a moment, squeezing tears out of your tightly shut eyes. Bucky was a blur when you opened them again but he was there, he was alive and you were more than thankful.

“Hey neighbor,” you sniffled. “It’s good to see you.”

No longer caring if you should or shouldn’t touch his face, you wanted to. Your thumb gently grazed the delicate skin of his cheek, early stubble scratching lightly as you brushed against it.

Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling him smile against your palm. “It’s good to see you too.” His voice was strained, still dry from surgery.

You took Bucky’s hand in your own, careful of the IV sticking out. He asked what happened, knowing he was in an accident but unsure of the details afterwards. It was obvious his leg was broken but you told him the specifics– the emergency surgery to fix his break and stop his internal bleeding, how Sam had treated him when he came into the ER. He smiled at that.

“You broke a few ribs too.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “So that’s why it hurts to breathe.”

Your lips pulled tightly across your face, wishing you could take the pain away from him. The tension released when you felt Bucky squeezing your hand as if he heard your thoughts, offering you comfort when he was the one that really needed it.

“Oh, your parents are here,” you remembered, though you looked around, unsure of where they went. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to contact Claire.” The shock of Bucky’s accident made you forget to text all your friends until the early morning.

His face twists with confusion. “Claire?” Did you really not know? “Claire and I have been broken up for months.”

Your lips move without sound as you try to process what he said. You didn’t know what to say, wondering if Bucky hid his breakup as you had yours. Now you didn’t feel as guilty holding on to the feelings in your heart. You’re about to blurt out the words, to tell Bucky what you couldn’t say back to Peter but the sound of Winnie calling his name stopped you and you turned to see her running up to his bed.

“James, you’re awake. We were so worried,” she cried in his ear, contorting herself around machines while being mindful of Bucky’s injuries.

George walked in with a cup of coffee for you and you thanked him, getting up so he could get closer to Bucky. The warm brew felt good going down even though it wasn’t the best, forgetting to warn them about the cafeteria’s lack of quality. Good thing you weren’t relying on this to keep you awake, not since Bucky shocked every cell of your body into full alertness with his news. Though you were happy to learn he broke up with Claire it still didn’t mean what you wanted it to and you were thankful you hadn’t scared him off with an “I love you.”

Pulling out your phone you saw a text from Wanda, featuring a block of caps locked screaming with question marks and sad emojis. You typed back an update about Bucky, looking over at him with his parents and back down again to the message that was still in the process of sending. It took a few minutes before the message decided not to go through at all.

You excused yourself, letting everyone know you were going to update all your friends about how Bucky was doing. George commented on the terrible service in the room so at least it wasn’t just your phone. You probably could have stood on a chair trying to force better service somehow in different parts of the room but you also wanted to give Bucky and his parents an opportunity for privacy.

“I’ll be right back,” you said with a smile, passing a woman coming in with flowers for the person who had been brought into the other side of the room early in the morning. Your gaze lingered back at Bucky one final time before leaving.

George shared a look with Winnie and staring at her son she said, “Y/N was here all night you know...”

With your phone in hand you follow it like it’s a map with five full bars leading you to treasure. It only took walking around the whole floor to find a good spot on the opposite side of the building near a window for your text to go through. In between sips of coffee you recorded a message for everyone on the group chat, it was so much easier than typing it out and you were still very tired.

You decided to finish your coffee there, giving Bucky and his parents more time as you stared out the window at what looked like a bright and beautiful morning. A slew of notifications came on your phone as half the people responded. Clint was probably still sleeping but Natasha replied asking if Bucky needs anything. Though Peggy was in England she asked if there was anything she could do. Steve wondered if he wanted visitors and asked you to pass along his get well wishes. You typed back that you would find out, promising to keep in touch as the day went on.

When your cup was empty you tossed it into a nearby garbage can and headed back, not expecting to hear your name being called.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You turned to see Elena, concern etched on her face as she held onto your shoulder. Embarrassment washed over you as you remembered how you looked, feeling even worse when you realized that earlier in the week Elena was technically your boss.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay. A friend of mine came in last night, car accident. I’ve…” you took a moment to yawn, covering your mouth, “Excuse me, I’ve been here all night.” You slapped your face lightly to wake up, now wishing the coffee had been stronger. “He’s going to be okay though,” you finished.

“He? Is this Bucky?” she wondered, and you were surprised she recalled his name since the wedding was months ago. You sighed, nodding slowly as your lips pulled into a soft smile. “I hope everything works out.”

Elena hugged you before she turned around to see a patient, reminding you she was here if you needed her. It was really nice to know she was there for you, Elena had become more than a mentor in the time you’ve worked for her.

Heading back in the room you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face when you saw Bucky. The few minutes apart you spent were more than you ever wanted to do again. George moved down a seat so you could sit closer to Bucky, letting him know everyone was asking about him, wondering if he wanted visitors.

Bucky sought your hand again, smiling as your soft touch helped to ease the discomfort he was feeling. It would be nice to see friends but he was more than happy you were here with him. It wasn’t long before a nurse came in to check vitals and Bucky was relieved since he definitely could use more pain medication.

Winnie asked you to join her to get food since no one had really eaten and even though you didn’t want to leave Bucky you weren’t going to say no to his mother. Besides, you needed to steer Winnie away from the cafeteria and the nurse seemed thankful to have less people in the room.

Bucky felt settled after a dose of painkillers, easing the radiating aches from all over his body. George poured a cup of water, handed it to him and set aside the pink plastic pitcher.

“How’re you feeling James?” he asked, forcing a smile when all he wanted to do was cry looking at the state of his son, from the deep purple bruises on his temple to the scrapes that marred his skin.

Bucky gulped down the water, quenching the arid condition of his mouth. “M’okay, a little better I guess.”

“Your head feels okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, no one said I hit it or– ”

“Are you sure about that?”

George leaned in closer, as Bucky squinted in confusion. His smile dropped and his eyes grew stern as he organized his thoughts into a more appropriate lecture despite the disappointing anger that bubbled beneath his skin.

“I really wonder James, because see Y/N, a great girl who clearly loves and cares about you and you let her go.” Bucky tried to interrupt, to fill in all the details he hadn’t told him in the past but George wouldn’t let him. “No son, there has to be something wrong with you if you can’t see it.”

“Dad, it’s… it’s complicated,” Bucky let out with a sorrowful sigh.

“James, real love is complicated. It’s wild and passionate as much as it is frustrating, but when you find someone that loves you as much as you love them it makes overcoming obstacles worthwhile. Love isn’t easy but it is easy loving someone that makes you feel alive, that makes life worth living and when you find that someone you don’t let them go. Don’t let her go, James.”

Bucky sits with the weight of his father’s words heavy on his chest. It had already been hard to breathe and now things felt worse. He doesn’t know the full story, how a stupid mistake ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He wants to make it right, to tell you everything not that it would change anything. Bucky assumed that since you spent all night waiting by his side that you at least don’t hate him anymore like you used to, so maybe your friendship can be salvaged. Still, it’s going to hurt him to see you in Peter’s arms but Bucky would rather have you back in his life because not having you there at all is far worse.

You come walking in with his mom, smiling and laughing and it’s such a beautiful sight. The smile on his face can’t help but grow. Bucky watches as his father wraps an arm around his mom, pressing a kiss to her temple. She smiles looking up at him, pulling out sandwiches from a deli you had come from.

“Ohh and someone wants to say hello,” Winnie said, pulling out her phone, trying her best to connect to Rebecca on FaceTime despite the shitty signal. The connection is spotty and Bucky ends up having a regular phone conversation with them. They were definitely happy to hear he was doing better.

After the call Bucky asked about his phone and his mom found the bag of his personal belongings in the closet. She grimaced at the lack of clothes, realizing whatever he came in with was most likely cut off him in the ER, thoughts of the whole ordeal bringing tears to her eyes. Underneath his shoes were his wallet and phone which she handed him, surprised to see the screen had not cracked.

Bucky attempted to turn it on but it was dead. Normally you carry a charger with you but in the rush to leave your apartment that was the last thing on your mind. Your own battery had just passed half its life but you didn’t really care. There was nothing else you needed to focus on today besides Bucky.

His parents stay into the afternoon, getting a chance to speak with the doctor and meeting Natasha, Clint and Steve who arranged their visit together. They left shortly after since the room had gotten crowded between everyone and visitors for the person in the other bed. You and Winnie hugged, squeezing tight for a lingering moment, fighting the urge to cry again out of exhaustion and relief for the night you went through together. George gave an equally strong hug, one that Bucky watched from his bed, overhearing his parents making sure you had both their numbers.

You looked just as tired as they did and Bucky knows you should probably go home. He wonders if you’ll leave when your friends do but when the time comes and Natasha is shrugging on her jacket you make no move to do the same, only getting up to hug them goodbye.

Alone again, Bucky finds comfort in the silence between you, as the speaker for the TV lays beside him filling the background with noise. He watches as you set up the cards he received on the windowsill, making sure Clint’s it’s going tibia okay card is angled so Bucky can see it and smile.

When dinner arrives he frowns at cold peas and carrots, eats the bland chicken and enjoys the soup more than he thought. Bucky urged you to eat something more than the bags of chips and nuts you had been snacking on since the sandwich you split between breakfast and lunch. You insisted you were fine but he forced you to eat his salad, assuring you he was not in the mood to have it.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Bucky groaned through an exhale, his eyes squeezed shut as hissed an unconvincing “yes” through his teeth.

“I need more pain meds and…” he shifted as much as he could trying to ease his discomfort.

“And what? Bucky, whatever it is I can get the nurse in.”

“I… it’s embarrassing,” he admitted.

You smiled softly, leaning close to remind him, “Whatever it is can’t be more embarrassing than the time I nearly shit myself in front of you. Remember? All my trips running to the bathroom hoping I could make it on time?”

Crinkles formed around his eyes as Bucky smiled, chuckling before he realized how much it hurt to do so, at the memory of your food poisoning and the weekend he spent helping you recover. And now here you were by his side, doing the same.

“It’s uh, my…” He looked away, blushing beet red as he squeaked out, “...my catheter. It’s not great.”

An array of expressions crossed your face. “Yeah… I can imagine.” When you finally locked eyes with Bucky again you couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, offering to go get him a nurse.

It took a few minutes to return as you looked for the nurse, coming back with a surprise, Wanda and Sam. Wanda held back tears as she carefully hugged him and Sam couldn’t help but go into doctor mode and ask how Bucky was doing.

“I’m good. Alive thanks to you.”

Sam grinned. “I can’t take all the credit, but you are lucky. Very lucky.”

The nurse lumbered in, tired from a long shift but his demeanor changed upon seeing Sam, the two of them knowing each other well. Riley had praised Sam’s skills having formerly worked beside him in the ER for a while.

“Riley, this is my boy so please, whatever he needs make sure he’s taken care of, alright?” Sam turned to Bucky, “You good? Do you need a sponge bath?”

Bucky sighed, “No Sam, I don’t need a sponge bath.” He blushed with embarrassment, rolling his eyes at his friend’s teasing. “I would really like to pee on my own though.”

“Riley, call the stream team!” Sam shouted a little too loud.

Bucky instantly regretted his admission, pinching the tender bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “It’s nice they let you out for some fresh air Sam, that padded room must get pretty boring.”

Sam wore a toothy smile, happy to see his friend was still in good enough spirits to rib him back. He and Wanda stayed long enough for the shift change and though Sam didn’t personally know the next nurse he introduced himself and wanted to make sure Bucky was taken care of.

Once again you made no move to leave when Sam and Wanda did, getting up only to stretch. Your bones creaked like old wood, stretching out stiff muscles until you felt the slightest bit of relief. The chairs provided were not the most uncomfortable but after almost a day they definitely took a toll.

Bucky notices the way your eyes grow tired, how every action has slowed. You’ve been in the hospital nearly as long as he has and he doesn’t envy you, even with his injuries.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, stirring you alert. “It’s late, you should go home.” Your head shook before you spoke, opening your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I’m good, I promise. You’ve been here all day and night, go get some sleep in a real bed.”

It would look stupid if you argued at this point, as you tried to fight back a yawn. Bucky asked you for a favor before you left, to grab his keys and bring some clothes and his phone charger tomorrow. “Only if you don’t mind.” Of course you would.

“Oh and one more thing,” he said, his eyes pleading up at you. “Call me when you get home. I need to know you got back safely.”

You nodded, smiling softly, before entering the number from his bedside phone into yours. Leaning down you pressed your lips against Bucky’s forehead, letting them linger against the warmth of his skin. Upon pulling away you shared a moment, smiling back at each other before Bucky took your hand.

“Thank you Y/N,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. There was so much Bucky meant within those words and by the way you looked at him he believed you knew.

With his body on fire Bucky still rested easier than he had in the last few months, knowing at the very least he had you in his life again.

The subway rocks gently as you travel down the familiar route to the hospital, this time not worrying about making it on time to clock in but with excitement fluttering in your belly to be able to see Bucky again.

Last night you called him just before you went into his apartment, grabbing the few things he asked for and not lingering. You were a second away from crashing, having enough energy to plug your phone in before your face hit the pillow.

In the morning you showered, drinking a strong cup of coffee as you got ready. You didn’t bother with much but it felt good to look presentable. You grabbed Bucky’s things, texting people before you lost service underground. Rebecca thanked you for the updates and said they were looking to fly in towards the end of the week. George and Winnie would definitely be happy to see them again. They contacted you this morning as well, saying they would be seeing you at the hospital in a bit.

Bucky tried to keep himself occupied, shutting his eyes and eventually finding sleep for a few hours before the nurse needed to check his vitals. He stared out his window, watching the dark blanket of the sky slowly lift over the buildings, falling asleep once more before the next round of nurses coming in. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to heal if he can’t sleep but the doctor lets him know he should be released tomorrow or the following day.

It lifts his mood but the height of his spirits soar high above the atmosphere when Bucky saw you walking into his room. You look much more rested than he does and he’s happy about it. He savors your arms around him, feasting upon the scent of your floral shampoo, your smile bringing sunshine upon a gloomy world.

You put the clothes he asked for in his closet, taking his phone and plugging it into the nearest outlet, settling down again in the familiar chair beside his bed. You were just as excited to hear about Bucky getting released soon, the thought of him being just beyond your shared wall again was comforting.

After charging for a little bit Bucky asked for his phone, just to check a few quick messages. You got up to unplug it, the screen lighting up and making your mouth fall open. Bucky’s lock screen was you! Well, it was the two of you, from that time Winnie was testing out her new phone. It was a beautiful memory, a candid capture of a moment in time when you gazed into each other’s eyes, the corners of your mouths settled into a smile; two people holding back the feelings that were written so evidently across their faces.

You pretended not to have seen it, handing him the phone with the screen down. Bucky nearly forgot about the picture himself, his eyes flitting quickly your way as he tried not to breathe too hard and have the monitors give away his panicked state.

Your head was turned up towards the TV, watching The Golden Girls through the muffled sound of the speaker resting against the side of the bed. You couldn’t look at Bucky in the moment, not when you felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. No, you needed this time to collect your thoughts, to find the perfect words to express exactly how you felt and right when they were at the tip of your tongue you held them back.

Winnie and George walked in looking a lot better than they had yesterday. They greeted you both and settled in for the next few hours. They too were excited about his impending release, offering Bucky to recover at their home.

“No, ma I’ll be fine. The building has an elevator, I’m good.”

Worry crossed her face. “What about food shopping? What about bathing?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. “Well you’re not gonna bathe me if that’s what you think.”

You swallowed a chuckle, shifting your expression to a serious one offering your help. “For the food shopping,” you nervously added. Learning from the past, you shut your mouth to avoid the risk of digging yourself a deeper, awkward hole.

His parents left to get lunch for everyone since Bucky was sick of cold vegetables, and the two of you were alone again. He cleared his throat, licking his lips before asking, “You really don’t mind helping me?”

Your smile answered him before your words. “Of course not. Plus we still have a lot of pizza to try.”

You bit your lip watching the smile spread across his face, relief washing over him as things seemed to snap back into place as if nothing had changed. But Bucky forgot about Peter. You had been spending so much time with him this weekend he almost convinced himself things were different.

“Peter isn’t mad you’ve been gone all weekend?” Bucky asked, doing a poor job in hiding the uneasiness in his face as he anticipated your answer. He’s a glutton for punishment, reminding himself that things will never truly be the same again and little does he know how right he is.

“I broke up with him weeks ago.”

Your answer takes a moment to register, the realization hitting Bucky more than the impact of the accident. “Why?”

Haloed by the glow of the sun behind you, the words sang like the message of an angel, because there had to be some sort of divine intervention that brought all of Bucky’s dreams true when you answered, “Because he wasn’t you.”

A tear slipped down your face and Bucky lifted his hand, cupping your cheek and brushing it away. You cupped his hand against you, exhaling staccato breaths and smiling down at the man that brought music into a world that felt silent without him.

You leaned down, the tip of your nose grazing against his, your smile matching his as you closed the distance, pressing your lips together once more. The sound of love flooded your soul as you and Bucky found harmony at last.

EPILOGUE

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[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Don’t Feed The Flames - Bucky Barnes x (f)reader, Natasha x platonic (f) reader

Summary: Bucky has made you angry after a tough mission with the crew, why you ask? Apparently he thinks it’s totally fine to run inside a burning building to help you complete the mission in question. 

Warning: bit of angst, mostly a good time with the team, Bucky fluff shoved in ur welcome

-reader has fire powers btw, I don’t wanna confuse anyone lol

Masterlist

The mission was difficult to say the least, successful in its own right, but tough for everyone involved. All the Avengers were needed for this clusterfuck of a mission, minus Bruce and Thor who are elsewhere in the universe, lucky them.

All the team needed to do was infiltrated one of the last highly armed Hydra bases left in existence, get rid of the artillery and boom, slither right on in. Objective? Snatch valuable intel as to where the other bases are hiding, and surprise surprise, you and Wanda had to take care of some very pissed off experimentees who were unfortunately brainwashed beyond the point of helping them recover.

Ending the night in everyone quickly evacuating the premise with the essentials while you stayed back to blow up the base to nothing more then bricks and ash. Although during this, Bucky stayed back to shoot some freelancers who tried to take you the fuck out, with what would you know it; flame throwers.

Apparently Hydra is greatly lacking in weapons and functioning brain cells, among other things. Granted, you understood Bucky’s concern for your well-being when he ran into the fire. But oh dear lord were you not happy with him one goddamn bit.

Luckily Sam was able to pluck him out before anything fell on your idiot boyfriend while you were producing mass destruction in the giant airplane storage area. In the aftermath, you came out unharmed but covered in smudge marks and burnt off cloves yet again.

Bucky? Well he came away with a pissed off girlfriend and his life to say the least. And let’s just say the long four hour ride back was a tad bit awkward, even if you were too damn exhausted to show your irritation with Bucky. The team sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to be spared of your wrath when the jet landed.

It took approximately ten seconds for your man to shuffle out of your line of sight, using Steve as a shield to hide behind while they walked out. You had been distracted when Natasha asked for something picked up, then suddenly your mind was on Bucky. A moment later you stomped out of the Quinjet in pursuit of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes as he awaited your fury.

“James!” You growl fiercely, “You are the most fucking reckless person I’ve ever fucking met and I’m literally friends with Tony!” You snap while the rest of your teammates go about their business, trying to listen yet smartly staying out of everything.

“I know.” Mutters Bucky like a kicked puppy suffering his mother’s wrath, blue eyes looking at you with regret clearly visible on his handsome face.

“You know! You know!? Then why the fuck would you just run into the flames like that!” You shout while throwing your arms into the air in frustration, “You’re not fire proof Bucky!”

“Y/N...”

“Do you have a goddamn death wish!?” You interrupt, giving him a dumbfounded look as he glances from Steve to the floor then back to you again, trying to find something or someone with enough pity to help him. 

He finds none, “Well....no.” Your brows raise yet again at his short and annoyingly blunt answers to make up for his stupidly daring boldness. 

“Then why-ugh, whatever never mind.” You dismiss with a wave of your hand before quickly turning on your heels to walk for the metal doors into the main part of the facility, while the others keep their distance from your heated state.

“Wait Y/N, come back I’m sorry!” Exclaims Bucky desperately while you continue to ignore your reckless man, “You’re right I shouldn’t have....ugh...come on babe....shit...” Mutters Bucky as he watches you leave him in such a heated state.

“Dude just let her cool off, oh uh well....no pun intended.” Jokes Sam with a shrug as Bucky watches you stomp away in frustration, your body almost sizzling with actual flame.

“I didn’t mean to....well...ugh, shit I guess I kind of did.” Admits Bucky with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as you slam the door shut with a loud thud, “Sometimes I forget fire can’t hurt her. I should have just let her handle the burning building herself instead of going inside when she uh, told me not to.”

Steve walks out of the Quinjet with a bag in hand to greet the two, “Y/N seemed a bit...”

“Pissed off.” Adds Sam with a light chuckle as Bucky frowns at the giant glass window.

“Yeah.” Mutters Steve awkwardly as he side eyes Bucky, “Well ugh, see you guys at dinner, I think Wanda and Vision are getting takeout from somewhere.”

“See ya Steve.”

“Bye.”

Sam and Bucky watch as Steve heads for the metal doors, soon he’s gone and the two are the only Avengers left in the giant parking garage of sorts.

“She’s going to hate me for the rest of the day I know it.” Sadly mutters Bucky, already missing your beautiful face no matter what state your in.

“I wouldn’t say it’s hate.”

“She’s going to be very disappointed in me then.”

“Yeah probably.”

Bucky gives him an offended look, “You’re supposed to say something uplifting or positive.”

“Man don’t look at me for relationship advice. This is Y/N we’re talking about, just give her a couple hours she’ll simmer down.” Inquirers Sam with a friendly pat on the back before he starts walking away for the door, as casually and unbothered as ever.

Bucky keeps silent for a moment while his mind swims with what to do next, suddenly he looks up at his retreating friend, “Hey Sam!” Shouts Bucky just as Sam opens up the door, causing him to stop and give his friend a quizzical look.

“What?!”

“Fuck you!”

Sam immediately snorts, “You brought this upon yourself brother!” And with that he shuts the door leaving Bucky alone and full of regret for putting himself in danger today when you specifically told him you could handle yourself.

Why is caring for someone so hard, wonders Bucky.

——

After taking a greatly needed shower and putting on a fresh new pair of comfortable clothing for the evening, you slipped past your friends rooms and away from where Bucky may be hiding.

Until at last you made it to Natasha’s door without being caught by anyone in the hallway and stopped for a needless conversation. Soon enough you slip into Nat’s room and saunter around for a bit as you wait for her to end her shower.

“Oh shit!” Gasps Natasha as soon as she opens the door and notices you poking around her stuff, “Jesus Y/N how’d you get in here!?”

“I opened the door.”

“I thought I locked it?”

“You did.”

Natasha gives you a puzzled look as you wander over to her nightstand, nonchalantly minding your business while picking up her current novel as she watches you curiously, “So uh, how’s it going?” She asks cautiously, well aware of your irritation with Bucky earlier that day.

Flipping through the pages you answer her honestly, “I’m fine now.”

Natasha nods before turning around to search through her drawers for an outfit, “I figured that much, considering if you were still pissed you’d be throwing fireballs into the cement wall downstairs.” She quips with her usual smirk as you gently close the book and set it back in its rightful place.

“That is.....true.” You agree with a shrug, “I’m just sending a message at this point.”

“Oh really?” Laughs Natasha while slipping on a shirt, “Poor Bucky then.”

“Yeah well he was being an idiot tough guy so....it’s what I’m doing.” You add with a lopsided smug grin, “Serves him right for being reckless with no regard for his physical safety. I love him but at what cost?”

“Someone needs to tell Steve that.” Mutters Natasha as she pulls on some sweatpants.

You chuckle, “What? That someone needs to tell Steve they love him? Not a bad idea.”

“That too.” Points Natasha, “I seriously don’t know how he’s not dead yet.”

Your brows furrow in thought for a moment, “He’s built like a stone sentinel with a will greater then many, he fears nothing.” You deadpan, face stoic and serious.

“Just about.” Laughs Natasha as you begin to cackle right along with her, in the middle of your laughing fit does the door suddenly burst open to reveal...

“Hello ladies.” Chirps Tony with an award winning smile, usual old T-shirt on and hair a bit of a mess though somehow managing to keep his Stark charm.

“I really need to get an automatic lock on that thing.” Mutters Nat to no one in particular.

“What’s up Stark.” You add with an acknowledging tilt of your head, “You here to bother us or tell us something interesting?”

“Everything I say is interesting my dear sparky.” Quips Tony with a brow wiggle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, anyways. Foods here.” Chides Tony as he sets a hand on his hip, “Unless you’re both too cool for movie night. More for us then, I’ll have Vision drop off our half eaten tacos.”

“We have tacos?” You ask with an intrigued raise of your brow, just wanting to confirm and make sure he’s not bluffing, you fucking love taco night.

“Yep.”

“How long have they been here?”

“Wanda and Vis just arrived so you’re the first two I found.” Oh, fuck yeah!

Turning your head to a smirking Natasha you smile back before bolting for the door, “Move Stark!” You snap before shoving him to the side and cackling as you and Natasha book it down the hall with Tony trying to keep up in the background. What can you say, Natasha always makes it a competition and its taco night. Sometimes you gotta play dirty.

Soon you and your assassin best friend who you tripped up before reaching the door finally skid into the Avengers giant lounging area. The room is relatively empty with the exception of Wanda and Vision who are seated at the large metal table near the kitchen where all the various paper bags of tacos are seated. And ripe for the taking.

Smelling absolutely delicious all tucked snug in their wrapping and filled with the most divine ingredients, you could just about die of happiness. With a beaming smile upon your face and the surprised expressions from your two friends you belt out loudly, “Tacos FUCK YEAH!” Before racing for the bags and getting tripped by Natasha.

Whipping your head up to watch her snatch a bag you growl half angrily, “You bitch.” While she happily smiles back down at you, taco in hand.

“What are you doing on the floor? Foods here.” She jokes as you quickly walk over to the counter with all the bags.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious now give me that.”

After about ten minutes of eating and shooting the breeze with Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Tony; you’re ears immediately catch the sounds of thundered running down the hallway and other muffled curses from two familiar individuals.

“Fun’s arrived.” Whispers Natasha with a friendly nudge to your arm as it lays on the flat surface of the table while you absentmindedly crumple up a wrapper.

Biting your lip you anticipate the impending commotion, “Fantastic.” And this whole evening could be more enjoyable if your hundred year old boyfriend would have used some common sense.

A second later the door swings open to reveal a panting Sam before Bucky slides in after him, equally as flustered, those two idiots. As they stand there collecting their breaths, Steve casually steps into the room, walking past them and over to the bags of tacos, “Aw sweet, taco night.” He confirms excitedly, hungrily eyeing up a particular bag.

Rolling your eyes, you slouch carelessly into your expensive swivel chair before turning to Wanda who’s seated across from you, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, you’re up.” She turns her attention away from Vision and nods before giving you a sly smirk and using her power to send a balled up piece of taco wrapping straight for your head.

In one calculably swift motion do you incinerate the paper material before its able to reach your face, “Y/N you’re going to set the fire detectors off.” Laughs Tony as he crumbles up a new ball.

“Eh, we could afford a renovation.”

Tony fake scoffs, “Rude.”

“Well Y/N, I thought you did great.” Applauds Wanda with a chuckle as the three other men walk around to the far end where no one is seated, “Alright Tony you next.”

You refrain from making any eye contact with Bucky who steals a few longing glances at your smiling face, instead he follows Sam and Steve to the opposite end and watches as you quickly turn another balled up paper to ash. The sounds of your laughter and the rest of the tables almost enough to drive him insane.

Yet he refrains, Bucky knows he’s essentially in time out, reason for almost getting himself killed today; and you’re not breaking anytime soon, or so he thinks.

Ignoring the three boys hungrily attacking their poor tacos away from the main groups theatrics, Vision suddenly gains your attention, “Well I suppose I should participate with this game or fear feeling left out....uh, what is the objective? Or perhaps the name?”

“They throw wrappers at me and I set them on fire before it hits myself or the ground.” You reply while crumbling up another piece, leaving Vision to process the possible deeper meaning to your brief explanation, though there really isn’t one. It’s just for fun.

“By the way I’ve been able to get her exactly once.” Brags Tony with a shit eating grin, causing you to scoff at that memory. 

“Oh fuck all the way off you flicked water into my face and then threw the paper.”

“And it was very much worth it.” He confirms as you roll your eyes at his cheating from last taco night.

The rest of your friends fill the room with snickers and some louder laughter coming from Sam down at the far end, with a raised brow you snap your head in that direction and stand, “Something funny bird boy?” You quip in a half threatening manner.

Sam’s smirk immediately drops from his face as his expression appears nonchalant, “What nooo. That was Steve.” He mutters before taking another bite out of his taco.

“Y/N that was definitely not me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe it was Bucky.” Jokes Sam as you shift your fiery attention over to a fearful Bucky who quickly shakes his head before smacking Sam on the arm.

“No.” You confirm with a knowing smirk, “He doesn’t have a death wish.”

“Well neither do I please have mercy.” Pleads Sam with hands raised in defeat, “I would like to finish my taco.”

You stare down at them for a brief tension filled moment before casually shrugging, “Yeah alright.” Before sitting back down again.

——

Opening up the trash can you quickly shove down three giant paper bags from dinner with a bit of effort considering how full it is. Natasha and Vision are cleaning up in various areas nearby while Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit in the lounging area discussing if it was necessary that Dobby was killed off in the Deathly Hallows. You know, normal things you discuss with your superpowered friends.

Well Bucky is mostly just listening and stealing glances over to you every couple of minutes, really wishing you would just walk over to him and let him show you how sorry he was with the biggest hug he could possibly muster. Probably never letting you go again, though you wouldn’t mind.

Ignoring your own longing to be cuddled up next to Bucky, you instead fight with the damn trash can to fucking shut its dumb lid already. With one hand forcefully shoving down bags, paper plates, and banana peels you start to think if volunteering for clean up was even worth it.

A blue flame suddenly erupts from your palm and makes a big black hole through the paper bags and plates, your eyes go wide in surprise as you immediately retract your hand from the trash and shut the lid just as quickly.

Taking a single step back you let out a breath before turning your head to find Bucky watching your whole ordeal go down with a drink in hand, guess he must have gotten up to get some juice and stayed for your one on one brawl with the trash can. Rolling your eyes, you wave it off, “Completely under control.” You mutter as he slowly nods.

Well this is awkward.

Shifting your gaze from Bucky to your friends and back to Bucky again, he finally speaks, “Is that why the lid has smoke coming from under it?”

“What?” You wonder in puzzlement before looking back down at the trash can to find smoke indeed rising, “Oh fuck!” Ripping the lid off you’re kindly greeted with a burst of flame and smoke. Well, shit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Asks Bucky with an uncertain chuckle, “You’re positive everything is under control?” Quips your smartass boyfriend.

With more flames rising to an almost alarming level, though not quit yet, you glance at your oblivious friends before racing for the sink, “Yes! Everything is fucking fine!” Wanda skips to the side as you snatch a cup of something from the counter by the sink.

Running back you skid in your tracks and dump the clear liquid onto the flames which causes them to rise even higher and gain the attentions of everyone sitting down and relaxing, “Why is my trash can on fire?” Asks Tony as casually as ever.

“I don’t know maybe it looks better this way?!” You sass before giving the glass a double take, “The hell? What the fuck was in this!” You shout, holding up the glass while fire burns in the trash from behind you.

“Oh that had some Quinjet fuel in it, why do you ask?” Replies Tony, he’s gotta be fucking with you.

Squinting at him in bewilderment, you shake the empty glass in frustration, “Why the fuck would there be a random glass of fuel sitting in a clear unlabeled glass on the fucking sink of all places!”

“What did you think it was?”

“Oh I don’t know!? Water?!” You snap causing the fire to roar even higher at your outburst.

Looking almost like a demon princess standing there with flames rising from behind you, your fists ball up with blue flame, something that you don’t even realize is happening as you give Tony a (what the fuck are you actually stupid) face.

Sensing your obvious irritation and rising anger, Bucky comes to the rescue with a whole bowl full of actual water and promptly dumbs it onto the flames which causes the unless materials to sizzle and whine. Soon the oranges and reds are gone, leaving the contents turned to ash and nothing more then wet soot.

Distinguishing your own flames, you hang your head low, revealing a tired heavy sigh as you mumble, “Shit.” Suddenly you feel admittedly quit drained and annoyed from the events of the day, even if they weren’t all bad.

Your friends keep silent for a moment before Steve quickly stands, “Movie night anyone?” Gaining the attention of everyone in an instant; you bless the blonde for his intuitive ways of helping you out in the smallest of moments. He truly is a great friend.

“Yeah I could watch something.” Adds Sam with a shrug, “I’m thinking Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

“Yeah it’s pretty good I’ll join.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah I’m in.”

Everyone get up and begins walking for the door as you stay standing in your spot near the wet and ash covered metal trash can, everyone exiting for the home theater except for Bucky who’s back is to you while he tells Sam you’ll be there in a minute.

Folding your arms, you suddenly feel like it’s the first time you and Bucky have ever talked one on one with each other, you’re typically a pretty damn confident and fiery person to begin with, it’s just. Being mad at your favorite human in the whole entire world and then embarrassing yourself with accidentally setting the trash can on fire can take its toll.

Also not to mention the mission many hours ago was admittedly hectic and stress inducing and then, Bucky....perhaps a moment to calm down would have been smart if taken earlier. God your life moves to damn fast.

“You are so intense sometimes.”

Breaking out of your self reflective trance, your eyes quickly dart up to see Bucky who’s giving you a soft smile, “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Very funny.” You scoff, “I was actually too busy being mad at you.”

“Ah, right.” Nods Bucky as he mirrors your defensive positioning, deciding to cross his arms and make a pouty face like yourself, “So I guess we’ll just stay here and brood then?”

“I’m trying to make a point.” You mutter, you’re not gonna crack, you’re not gonna do it.

“I’m trying to get my girlfriend to watch a movie with me.” Admits Bucky with an affectionate head tilt as you frown, “I know they’re not going to wait for us so....uh....okay let me start over.....I’m sorry for being reckless and almost dying. And I mean it too, with all of my heart. I love you Y/N.”

Although you’d like to throw his dumb reckless ass some sass and strut away leaving him guessing and begging for more, you just can’t find it in you at this point. He looks at you with those big beautiful blue eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you, how could you possibly resist them?

You know with every ounce of your soul that he means every single word, and you also know that he’s missed you since the second you yelled at him and slammed the facility door, leaving him alone and regretting his past decisions that could have potentially ended him then and there.

“Sometimes James, sometimes.” You mutter, shaking your head in disapproval before a small smirk pulls at your lips and in that moment he knows you’re his, “Come here.”

Heeding to your wonderful command that he’s been waiting to hear all day, he swiftly makes the short distance to gather your smaller body into a giant Bucky bear hug, his strong arms wrap protectively around your back as his head falls into the side of your neck as he quickly steals a small kiss.

You pull him in even tighter and fully enjoy the sensation of himself flush against you, metal arm squeezing your rip cage and long dark hair that falls into your eyes; god you love him so much.

Giving you one last little squeeze of affection, Bucky slowly pulls away and presses his head against yours, “I gotta be honest, I have no idea what this movie is about.” Reveals Bucky as he continues to holds you close.

Chuckling you press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Let’s go before we miss anything else.”

Nodding, he tilts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips one last time before letting you go, so that the two of you can begin walking for the door. Opening up the metal and glass door for you like the gentleman that he is, Bucky quickly jogs over to your side.

“So Sam told me these guys are wizards or something? Like they can teleport and fly I think?” States Bucky in question while walking in step with you.

Looking over at him you smile at how cute he’s being right now, giving him an agreeable nod, “Yeah they can do cool stuff like change form and set things on fire.”

Bucky suddenly starts laughing much to your confusion, “Y/N does that make you a wizard?”

Shoving him to the side you snort as he keeps laughing, “Shut up.” You mutter humorously as he stumbles from your friendly push.

Making quick steps to catch up with you, Bucky pulls you into his side, “Forgive me I didn’t mean it...” Snickers your adorable idiot, “I bet you’d be the best wizard, pointy hat and all.”

Shaking your head you can’t help the smirk that tugs against your better wishes, “I’m gonna set you on fire.” You jokingly threaten him with as he affectionately squeezes your side, causing you to be pressed even closer against him.

“Wizard.” Muses Bucky as he plants a kiss to your cheek as you try and push him away.

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

“But, I love you.”

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Little Witch | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies, I’m finally back with some Mikaleson Brothers content. I’ve had this idea for a while and rewrote it about a thousand times. I’m not sure if I love this but I needed to just finish it. I feel like it’s not that great but regardless I’m giving it to you. It’s super fluffy and a quick burn romance but, hey, who doesn’t like kissing me you just met you know? In all seriousness I hope you’re all doing well. I know life is really off right now and I hope this helps. All my love <3 until next time loves!

Description: Hogwarts and The Originals crossover, disbelief must be suspended for this one as we all know some of this doesn’t add up, soulmate AU

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: there are no warnings

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: FLUFF

Tag List: @activist-af , @hellotvshowtrash , @firebirdsalvatore

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

“There you are, sweetheart,” her gentle voice breaks through you dreams, pulling you from the same scene you’ve grown used to seeing for the last couple weeks, “you’re going to miss dinner sleepyhead.”

You awake to a familiar picture: your books sprawled across a desk in the middle of the library and a fiery redhead with a soft smile holding a semi-crumpled cardigan towards you. Her eyes twinkle with laughter and familiarity. This isn’t the first time Arabella has found you asleep after you told her you were going to be studying. When you look down at your divination textbook you notice a small pink smudge from your cherry lip gloss. You wipe your fingers around your lips, collecting the rest of your smeared makeup.

You stifle a yawn, stretching your limbs out with a soft groan, “shoot, I fell asleep again. What time is it, Ari?”

“Quarter to six, hun,” she reaches out to brush some fallen hair out of your eyes, “we should really get a move on. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, this time the yawn interrupting any intention to answer that you had. Your head buzzes lightly with the remnants of your dream. For weeks you’ve felt something on the horizon, something meant just for you. Three pairs of brown eyes and the warmest feeling in your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve been waking up with every night, if not a touch stronger this evening. You don’t mind it though, it layers a warmth to your bones that this winter in the castle has stripped from you.

“I haven’t been sleeping too well lately is all,” you let Arabella help you slip your cardigan back on, straightening it and your tie, evening the yellow and gray stripes. 

Her hands still against your shoulders, her concerned green eyes meeting your own half open ones, “still having those dreams, sunshine?” 

You nod once more, sagging slightly from the weight of your tote when she loops it over your shoulder. Your skin tingles with slight electricity, lulling your already fuzzy brain into a deeper haze. You tug your sleeves over your hands, scrunching your fingers into a fist to try and regain some awareness.

“Hmm,” Arabella pushes the same strand of hair from your forehead again, removing her headband and putting it on you instead to keep your unruly strands in place, “remind me to make you some tea before bed. I have some herbs from the greenhouse that might help with them. Let’s go get some food into you first though, ok?

She links her arm through yours, pulling you alongside her towards the dining hall. The corridors are mostly empty, spare a few behind students. Much like yourselves, they hurry in the same direction, following the wafting smell of roasted chicken and pumpkin pie. You can’t help but shiver as you watch them rush, feeling like someone forgot to tell you something. As if everyone knows a secret that you very well must have snoozed through.

“Hey Ari,” you tug lightly on her sleeve to get her attention, “why is everyone in such a hurry? Did I miss something?”

She looks confused for a moment, her button nose scrunching tight before her mouth falls open, “oh yes, that’s right! I forgot to tell you! Some seventh year prefects overheard McGonagall talking about some exchange students from Ilvermorny. They’re supposed to be here for dinner!”

Your skin crackles with electricity, the air static with anticipation, “Ilvermorny? They’re from America?”

She nods her head cheerfully as the two of you approach the towering doors of the dining hall, “I know, it’s crazy right?”

You can hear the buzz of activity emitting from the hall before you cross the corridor, a dull roar that lights you with an even mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

“They certainly think so,” you motion to the giggling fourth year girls who scurry past you, their chatter no doubt about the possibility of Hogwarts’ newest additions. 

The current coursing through your body sings when Arabella pulls you through the doors. The dining hall is a flurry of activity, each house no doubt wondering if they’ve gained any new members tonight. The thought of some new Hufflepuffs warms your heart. You haven’t had any new faces around in ages it feels like. You let her lead you to a few seats left open near the front of the hall, next to the small stage.

You fall into your seat with a sigh, graciously accepting the plate of food Arabella hands you. How she made it so quick you aren't sure. Magic probably, that would make the most sense. When you glance over at her she has her wand out, levitating food onto her own plate. She always puts you ahead of herself, something you can't help but feel bad about sometimes. Regardless, it warms your heart immensely to be lucky enough to have such a caring best friend. You catch her eye and she passes you a loving smile and a wink before lowering her plate. 

As you take the first bite of your pumpkin pie, ignoring the nudge you get for eating your dessert first, Headmistress McGonogal taps her wand to the podium in front of her.

“Students,” she clears her throat, waiting for the noise in the great hall to quiet, “as quite a few of you have already heard by now,” she searches you all with a glint in her eye, a small smile on her lips, “we have a few students joining us.”

The great hall buzzes at her admission, a current running through the entirety of the student body and, most of all, you. Your head feels like it’s spinning. Like you’ve just drunk a litre of fire whiskey and that if you stand up there’s a good chance you’ll fall right over. You drop your fork but the clatter it makes doesn’t register with you as much as it should. Arabella looks over at you, clearly worried, and raises her eyebrows, placing a warm hand on your back. 

As you go to shrug your shoulders at her, the doors to the great hall open once more, “ah, and here they are! Please, everyone, show them your warmest welcome. They have come a long way, all the way from Ilvermorny in the United States.”

McGonogal continues to speak about Hogwarts and its connection to Ilvermorny but her speech is drowned out by cheering from all over the great hall. Well, you’re pretty sure it is. Your pulse is thundering so loudly in your ears that you can’t hear much of anything at all. Arabella stares at you still, growing more and more scared as the seconds pass. You think you say something, you open your mouth at least, but whatever words come out of your mouth don’t reach your ears. Arabella tightens her grip.

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, desperately willing your senses to go back to normal. It almost works too but then you breathe in and are hit with three scents so hard that you almost vomit. Not because they’re terrible, though, they’re anything but. No, you almost puke because of how fast you���re swamped in pine and buttery leather and the entire damn sea and how quickly it makes your heart rate spike. Are you having a heart attack? What is going on?

When you open your eyes the great hall is spinning and you know for a fact that you’re the only one experiencing this carousel ride. You have to get out of here. You push away from the table, standing on legs much too shaky for your own good. Arabella calls your name and it sounds like she’s behind a thick sheet of glass, one you can’t break no matter how hard you slam against it. The trees and leather and sea wraps around you again and your knees almost give out. There’s only one thing you can think to do and you don’t hesitate to do it. 

You run like hell. 

No. Scratch that. You run like hell is chasing you and, well, maybe it is. Maybe hell is a person, or people, perhaps even three people, and their footsteps pound down the corridor behind you so loud they echo through your chest. Your kilt whips around your legs, your hair flying behind you as you clear the corners as they come. You can feel them, whoever they are, gaining but slowly. You can make it, you know you can.

It’s midwinter, the thick of February, and yet you feel like you’re wading through lava. The halls should be ice right now but your blood is scorching you from the inside out. You pull the sweater from your chest as you run, not thinking twice before dropping it, never stopping. Your skin is charged with electricity and you want to scream and tear your heart out but you can’t, not now. You feel them like they’re right on your heels, the triplet of scents swirling furiously around you. You need to get outside. Now. 

You make it to the courtyard, practically leaping off the cement steps, but a hand catches your arm midair and you stumble. You see the ground hurtling towards you in slow motion, the cobblestone path laughing at you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the stones to bite into your side but they never do. Instead you’re wrapped in pine, two warm arms pulling you into a firm, hot chest. 

You thought your skin was electrified before but that was nothing compared to what is now. Everywhere your body touches the person holding you prickles with static. You can almost hear your flesh crackle, each one of your veins roaring so loud that all you can hear is your blood rushing through you. It’s like a tsunami, waves of fire and power and fucking pine rolling over you unrelentlessly. You aren’t quite sure if you’re still breathing.

You feel another pair of hands on your back, rubbing up and down, spreading the fire like butter over your shoulder blades. Your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching into whoever it is behind you, your head falling onto a shoulder that smells like summer at the beach. 

A part of you is screaming to run. To jab your elbow into their stomach and fight like hell. However, against all of your better judgement, the feeling is fading and fast. Hands skim down your arms lightly and you fight the delicious shiver that crawls up your spine. You don’t realize you’re still clinging to the first person until your fists squeeze around the cotton of their shirt. Their hands hand loosely off your hips and you don’t even want to acknowledge how much you like it. 

Instead of fighting, you pry your eyes open, only to stare directly into strikingly familiar brown eyes. Your breath catches in your chest, your head still against his shoulder. He leans closer towards you, blonde hair falling down his face slightly. It looks entirely soft and you squeeze your hands tighter, resisting the urge to touch this stranger’s hair. His scent, that overbearing ocean, wraps around you again. He definitely doesn’t feel like a stranger.

“Hi love,” his voice is soft and lulls you deeper into his chest, his nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone, “you’re lucky we’re fast. That could have been quite the fall.”

He chuckles lightly and your cheeks flame, the noise like the wind chimes you hung in the greenhouse your fourth year. His laugh hits you in the gut and radiates to every inch of your skin, cooling the flames but also concentrating them lower. Too low. Your traitorous core sets on fire from the mixture of his musical laugh and mesmerizing eyes. Merlin, you don’t even know his name.

You look away from him but you can’t escape his eyes no matter how hard you try, looking directly into an identical pair of warm, brown eyes. The man in front of you, the one with his hands squeezing your hips, is also frustratingly familiar. He’s tall, his chest, the one underneath your fingertips, is broad and heaves up and down with every breath. Your body, being the wanton force of nature she is, longs to have you wrap your legs, and every other part of you, around the man in front of you. When the blonde behind you wraps his arms around your stomach, reminding you that he’s still there, you want to do the same to him as well.

Memories prickle the edges of your mind, the dreams you’ve been having for weeks now flashing behind your eyelids every time you blink. The warmth in your bones and the molten brown eyes. The same electricity that is burning through your chest and head and core, only now it’s a million times stronger. You shake your head. Not at the man in front of you but at yourself. No way are these the men from your dreams. That’s impossible, Right? And besides, there were three eyes in your dreams.

“There you guys are,” a voice, steadily approaching and as slow and tantalizing as honey, pulls your attention away from the men surrounding you, “I can’t believe you left me to explain what was happening to McGonagall.”

You meet the third pair of eyes with an audible gasp, his sharp leather scent curling around you despite the distance between the two of you. It sinks into your skin and puts you in motion, like the potion you needed to break whatever paralyzing spell you were under. You pull yourself so suddenly from the two men that they don’t have time to catch you, putting some much needed distance between all four of you. You force yourself to ignore the way your heart aches already. Your hand finds the wand in your kilt pocket. Stupid girl, longing for men you don’t even know. 

You find your voice but only enough to mutter hastily, “Were you chasing me? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting, like, the whole school right now? What in Merlin’s name is going on?” 

The newest male takes a step towards you, his eyes drawing up and down your body, reigniting the heat that has been slowly subsiding and lingering on your hand wrapped around your wand. He smirks at you, like he knows something that you don’t and, honestly, he probably does. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hair is dark brown and just as touchable as the previous two. You squeeze your fist tighter.

“One question at a time, darling,” he takes another step and you tense your shoulders instinctively even though your body is fighting the urge to run to him, “we’ll tell you everything. Can we go inside first, though? You look like you’re freezing. Is this yours?”

His question isn’t really a question, in his hands is your cardigan. He picked it up for you? You let your shoulders sag slightly and your grip loosen. He doesn’t know you, why did he bother picking it up?

“I-,” you release the wand slowly, “yeah that’s mine. Thank you.”

He’s right about the cold, now that you aren’t sandwiched between the other two men the chill nips at your fingers and legs. You go to take your sweater from him but he holds it open, beckoning you to turn around and let him put it on you for you. You sigh but oblige, tucking your arms into the soft wool with his help. His hands smooth down your arms once you’re settled, the familiar sparks following their path. You’re head squeezes with confusion and you want to scream if only to release the pressure.

You turn in his hands, meaning to break his hold but only ending up closer to his chest, “what is going on?”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The ache in your heart eases drastically and you breathe in the leather once more. Merlin’s sake, this is exhausting. Even so, your limbs feel lighter in his arms. His eyes burn into yours and you don’t even try to look away, letting him extract whatever information he wants from you. You’re almost sure he can read every thought flashing through your eyes.

“Can’t you feel it?” His hand brushes your cheek, your skin buzzing on cue, “feel us? Like there’s a string pulling you to us, right? We feel warm, don’t we, and you want to be near us. You feel like you know us but you don’t know how or why.”

You find yourself nodding along to the words of a man whose name you don’t even know yet, your hands finding their way to his chest. 

“Who are you,” you turn to meet the other two, your eyes wide, “all of you.” 

The second man, the one who caught you, steps forward, holding out a hand for you to take. You aren’t sure why but you look back to the male in front of you, the one with his arms still tight around you, for approval. He nods, letting his arms fall almost reluctantly. When he releases you, you’re quickly pulled back into the pine scented chest. You don’t like how easily your body moulds to his, how his body seems to have some sort of claim on yours. How all of their bodies do.

“Elijah,” he rests his chin against your head, caging you against a chest that feels too much like home to make any sense, “I’m Elijah. You were just talking to Kol and Klaus-”

The hands, the same ones from before, once again rest on your back, drawing a traitorous sigh from your lips, “is right behind you, love, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart squeezes dangerously at his words, letting them fill you with the warmth of his promise. Even if your rationality doesn't accept it for the immediate truth it is, every other part of you does. You pull out of Elijah’s arms and turn to the ocean of a man behind you, throwing your arms around his neck without a second thought. He, too, feels like coming home. He takes no time squeezing you against him and burying his face in your neck. You feel hands behind you move your hair away from your neck and then a nose drawing up the exposed bumps of your spine. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” you mumble into Klaus’ shoulder, “I don’t understand what any of this means.”

“Of course you do, darling. You can feel it in your bones,” Kol pushes his nose against your temple, his lips skimming your ear before tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Merlin. His teeth on your skin sends heat pooling in the pit of your belly. You tighten your arms around Klaus, biting back an embarrassing moan as he laughs again. This time the sound echos through your chest and wraps around your heart, grabbing on and refusing to let go. Kol’s lips skim down your jaw, nipping lightly at your throat in a way that is completely inappropriate for a man you just met but you don’t care right now. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and you sink back into them, letting Elijah spin you and haul you into his chest. Your head is spinning from how quickly you’re being passed around by men you don’t know. Your heart stings slightly, the comfort you feel in the large male’s arms screaming at you. Perhaps you don’t know them but your body has been waiting centuries for them and is more than ready to reunite. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around him. 

“Baby,” your heart stutters and his pupils expand like he can hear it, “do you mind if we go back to our dorm before anyone sees us?” Elijah glances over your head, searching around the courtyard before landing back on yours, “This is a lot to explain to one person, let alone the whole school.”

Your cheeks flame for the millionth time and your head whips around, searching the courtyard yourself for any prying eyes. You breathe a quick sigh of relief when you don’t see anyone. He’s right and, besides, you really are freezing now, your exposed legs two icicles.

You smile gently at him, savouring the way his eyes draw to your lips, “that’s probably a good idea.”

You go to unwrap your legs from his hips when he stops you, his hands tightening around your back and thighs, “may I?”

Your eyes widen, your hands stilling on his shoulders, “you want to carry me?”

He leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours gently, “very much so, baby.”

Your heart feels like it restarts, kicking your pulse into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself to speak, your entire body engulfed in pine and flames like a forest fire that you never knew could exist. You just nod, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel every breath he takes, closing your eyes when he begins walking. 

The hallways, thankfully, feel empty and you don’t open your eyes, letting yourself sink into Elijah’s chest like you’ve been doing it your whole life and this isn’t your first experience being held by someone as large and strong as him. Your fingers, laying on the back of his neck, can’t resist shuffling through his hair. You’re already in his arms anyway, so what’s the harm. Just as you thought, his hair is soft to the touch and mesmerizing. You tangle your fingers through it, the last dregs of anxiety seeping from your bones. 

When he starts down a staircase that you aren’t anticipating you tighten your fingers, squeezing your thighs to keep from falling out of his arms. In turn Elijah releases a breathy groan, one that hits you directly between your thighs. When you open your eyes you’re met with a coal black instead of the warm brown from minutes ago. Your breath catches in your throat but not from fear, albeit it should be. You know you should be painfully afraid of this man, whom you barely know, whose arms are wrapped around you so tight it almost hurts, but you aren’t. Not even a little bit. 

Not even when he opens his mouth and you see two, very sharp looking fangs poking out of his gums, “Eli?”

You don’t know where the nickname comes from and, honestly, you don’t care. All you can think about is the irrational heat growing between your legs and his hands, once again squeezing your hips. Who is this man and why do you want him to press you against the stairs and do unspeakable things to you? You look over his shoulders at Kol and Klaus, whose eyes aren’t quite the same charcoal as Elijah’s but definitely not the sunshine whiskey that they were before. You have to bite your lip again to keep from squeezing your legs harder around Elijah. 

“Come on,” Klaus steps ahead of you and Elijah, glancing back over his shoulder and smirking teasingly, “I can hear people leaving the Great Hall.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. How can he possibly hear the Great Hall from here? You glance back to Elijah, the sight of his fangs flashing through your mind. You shake your head, not wanting to think about any of this right now. You reach a hand up, cupping his jaw and running your thumb over his cheek like any of this at all is normal.

“Klaus is right, Eli. We need to figure this out before it gets around the school.” More than it already is, you add in your head.

The four of you somehow make it to their dorm and you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s segregated from the rest of the dorms. McGonagall probably gave them their own dorm to make them feel more comfortable. You’re just thankful to be away from the open space. You already know the entire school will be talking about what happened. Merlin why is it always you? You’re just a Hufflepuff, you didn’t sign up for any of this. 

Their dorm is magnificent. The doorway leads into a moody common room, surrounded with cozy browns and greens. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there’s a window looking out into the lake. The waves lap against the glass and you giggle as a few fish swim by, stopping to look into the room and then continue on their way. The room smells like all three of them. Like every plain of earth and sea and air. There are four doors leading to what you can only assume are their bedrooms and bathroom. Compared to your dorm, which you love but also share with five other girls, this place is an oasis.

Elijah sets you on an incredibly soft, brown leather couch and you pull your legs up, tucking them underneath you. Kol settles next to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch, behind your head. Klaus sits on your other side, pulling your legs from under you and over his lap, his hands rubbing circles on your calves. With your back now to Kol, you can’t help but let your head fall to the side against his arm, soaking in the warmth of his skin. The dungeons are colder than you thought they would be. How do the Slytherins do it? He laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to lay against his chest. 

Elijah settles on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at you with a look only slightly less hot than before. You hold a hand out for him, one he quickly takes, threading his fingers between yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips. Klaus’ hands are slowly working up your legs, now wrapped around your knees and steadily moving higher. You squeeze your eyes tight before opening them and staring at the ceiling, avoiding three pairs of brown eyes to the best of your ability.

You sigh gently, leaning into Kol’s hands as his fingers search through your hair, scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you almost keep your thoughts to yourself if only to ensure he doesn’t stop. But you need answers now.

“Okay, I’m serious this time,” your eyes train on a bookshelf, counting the books to keep yourself focussed, “who are you? You clearly aren’t like me, you aren’t witches, but you definitely aren’t regular people,” you suck in a breath, your eyes stalling on a thick book titled The History of Mythical Creatures, “so what, pray tell, are you?”

Your eyes stay focussed on the book but you don’t want to entertain the thoughts flowing through your mind. You had to read that volume in your seventh year myth class. Just because you’re a witch it doesn’t mean you’re used to the creatures you’re taught about. There’s a reason every student at Hogwarts takes eight years of defensive magic.

“You got us, little witch,” Klaus’ hands are above your knees now, kneading your exposed flesh with skilled fingers, “clever and beautiful. The perfect mate.”

Your eyes snap from the bookshelf, from the book that you know holds the answer to their identity, to the blonde lazily licking his own extended fangs. Mate. Did he just say mate? There’s no way he just said mate. Impossible. You’re a witch. As far as being mythical goes, you’re as close to normal as it gets. They, however, are something stronger. You can feel the power rolling off of them. 

“I,” your mouth falls open, your mind spinning, “what?”

Kol laughs from behind you, his chest rumbling under your back. He pulls your hair to the side again before capturing your ear with his mouth again. 

“You heard him, darling,” he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, pulling a tiny gasp from you as, “your ours. And, I hate to break it to you, but we’re pretty hard to get rid of. ”

Klaus’ hands squeeze right below the hem of your kilt, lighting your skin with the delicious sparks. If his hands weren’t there you would be squeezing your legs together for sure.

“He’s right, love, I’ve tried. Many times,” Klaus smirks at Kol in only the way an older brother could and it hits you.

“Oh, Merlin,” you close your eyes again, heat flaring across your face, “you’re brothers. All three of you are brothers. What is going on, Helga help me.”

All three of them laugh and Elijah kisses your knuckles again, “yes baby, we are in fact brothers. It’s been a long millennium.”

“Millenium?” You feel faint.

He laughs again and you wish you could pluck the sound out of the air and hold onto it for the rest of your life. When you look at him all you can do is smile and run a hand down your face. A thousand years, huh? Klaus’ hands trace lazy circles on your inner thighs as Kol’s lips find your neck, his teeth scraping your skin in a way that has you sinking even further into his buttery leather arms. When he bites down a touch harder you can’t help but wonder what kind of experience a thousand years would allow a person. 

A thousand years. Your chest stings unexpectedly as another thought hits you. It must be the day for that.

“I don’t think I’ll live a millenium. I probably have a few hundred years but a thousand? Not even close,” your heart stutters, a cold chill running over you, “You’ll all outlive me.”

Three growls sound in the room and you almost jump out of your skin in shock before you realize that they’re coming from them. Kol tightens his arms around you protectively as Klaus’ hands find your hips under your kilt, squeezing you like you just suggested you’re going to die tomorrow. Elijah drops from the coffee table, sinking to his knees in front of you and throwing an arm over your stomach. 

“You’ll be living a lot longer than that, baby, I assure you of that.”

You reach a hand towards Elijah, curling your fingers through his hair on instinct, “I may be magic, Eli, but I’m not immortal. It’s not the same for me.”

He leans into your palm, rubbing his cheek against your fingertips, “that’s an easy fix.”

Your head spins, the pieces connecting in your head as you stare into his serious eyes. For the first time all night a tinge of fear zaps your chest. Immortality is no joke.

“You want me to become like you?” You look away from him and Klaus, who nods in agreement with his brother, “You want me to become a-”

Kol nips the back of your neck and you try to ignore the pleasure rolling through you in the midst of the most serious conversation of your life, “a vampire, darling. You can say it. We’re vampires.”

The word echoes through you, bouncing around your head and lungs, fluttering in your stomach before finally settling directly between your thighs. Merlin. You sit upright quickly, pulling your legs from Klaus’ dangerously skilled fingers, and all but stumble over Elijah and the coffee table in order to put some distance between you and the brothers. You scrub your hands over your face, your entire body feeling more alive than it ever has in your short lifetime. But you know it can’t last.

You keep your hands over your eyes, letting the open air sooth you for a moment before speaking, “I’m just a witch. Just one witch and not even a good one at that,” you peel your hands from your eyes, opting instead to tug your hair, “I’m more of a farmer, honestly. I spend all my time in the library or the greenhouses. I’m not mate material. I’m definitely not,” you swallow thickly, your throat closing all of a sudden and without your permission, “vampire material. You have the wrong girl.”

As soon as you say the words they feel wrong but they’re already out of your mouth and you have to live with them now. For a long moment nobody says anything. It’s just you standing in front of them, your eyes refusing to open and your hands ripping at your hair. Your legs tremble beneath you and it feels like your heart is trying to crawl out of your throat. If it can’t be with them then it would rather stop beating altogether. The cold air of their dungeon dorm nips at your legs and fingertips painfully and you revel in the feeling of something other than the torrent of emotions that you’ve been battling for the better half of an hour. 

You feel a rush of air in front of you, forcing your eyes open just in time to see Kol standing in front of you. You open your mouth, ready to let even more words that you know you’ll regret out, but you find that you can’t speak. Not because you don’t want to, though, but because Kol’s mouth is now crashing into yours and, gods, does it ever feel like you’re breathing for the first time. Kol’s mouth is oxygen. Like before this moment you were dead and his lips are life. You grip his shoulders, your fingers digging into the taught muscle to keep yourself upright against this force of nature. 

His hands wrap in your hair and he tugs gently, swallowing each moan like it’s candy and he can’t get enough. Your hands crawl from his shoulders to his hair, doing the same to him. He groans, a sound completely different from Elijah but so similar at the same time. When his tongue finds its way between your lips you see stars. Your blood sings like you’ve walked through a magnetic field, your veins buzzing with a foreign kind of power. This time you don’t feel like you’re home, you know you are.

Kol pulls back a fraction, his lips brushing yours while he speaks, “you feel that?” His hands move to your cheeks, your skin like a current where he touches you, “I know you do, I know you feel me in your veins, darling. I don’t have the wrong person. Fate doesn’t make mistakes. You’re perfect for me.”

Your eyes widen and you push back the swell of emotion rising in your chest.

A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, a riptide pulling you into an ocean of a man, “me as well, my little witch. Besides, I quite like farmers. Tell me, can you grow strawberries?”

You try to stop yourself from sagging against his chest but you can’t and you don’t actually want to. His head falls on yours as if he’s been doing it for years.

“Pumpkins,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, knowing full well you aren’t ready to answer the other questions, “I grow the best pumpkins in the school.”

Klaus’ chest rumbles like a cat purring against your back, “pumpkin pie it is then, love.”

You feel a hand close around your arm, pulling you from both Kol and Klaus and into a pair of arms that rival the dark forest. Elijah lifts you against his chest, giving you a moment to wrap your legs around him before he walks the two of you to the window. He looks out in the water and it eases you knowing that you don’t have to answer to his molten brown eyes.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, baby. I know you’re scared and tired, I can feel it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. But just know that we’re here because something stronger than time itself brought us to you. No mistakes were made,” he catches your eyes through the reflection of the glass, “I’m ready for whatever challenges this brings. I’ve been ready for a thousand years, ten lifetimes, and I would wait fifty more for you,” he pulls you further up his chest, pressing his forehead against yours, “just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between yours, “graduation.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide and his eyebrows scrunched together, “what?”

You pull his face back to yours, stealing another kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return, “I just need until graduation. I need to finish my last year here, it’s my home. After that, I’m yours.”

He crushes you against him as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips and you let yourself giggle freely. He looks at you in awe, a smile blooming across his face like he just won the lottery. Kol and Klaus are next to you in an instant, their faces almost mirror images of Elijah’s. Your heart soars at the sight of the three boys you met less than three hours ago who you’ve just promised the rest of your life, and longer, to. It sounds ridiculous still but nothing has ever felt so right.

“Well, brothers,” Klaus’ eyes shine happily, “it looks like we’re going to be here longer than we thought.”

[3mmafr0st]

Remember Me Part 2

Previous Part <——-->Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT and everything that comes with it, Talk of death and murder, violence, guns, brainwashing, sleazy billionaires (eat the rich)

A/N: I have had so much fun with this, give your opinions in the comments

They lied, there was no new mission tomorrow. I stayed locked in that dark little cell that they called my room. It was somewhat comfortable, they had to keep me Poole that so I would be able to keep myself in peak shape. A soldier is no good if they’re sick and in pain. There were sparse books, guides like The Art of War, or the vile words of Mein Kampf. I didn’t like the second one at all. The views were absolutely disgusting, but It made some sort of sense that it was there. I remember vaguely hearing about how Hydra was part of Nazi Germany. Although I couldn’t quite remember what that was, I knew it was bad, because that was what the book itself was about.

The walls were made of cement, the floors lined with corrugated metal. There was a metal bed frame in the corner, with a mattress, pillow, and blanket. Just enough to keep me comfortable. There was a desk in the other corner, simple metal table and chair, but nothing on it or in it. It was simply a place to fill out my mission reports. In the back was a door that lead to a small shower, toilet, and sink. Finally, a punching bag hung from the ceiling on the same side as the bed. I had been in this room for so long that I had memorized every inch of it.

It was difficult to tell how long I had been in here. The only clue to how long was the wall of carved tally marks, at least 20,000, give or take. They never actually gave me a calendar or anything to keep track of time, instead, I tracked it on mealtimes.

It had been about three weeks this time, complete with twenty two new tallies added to the wall. They pulled me out of the room after breakfast, restraining me by walking me with each of my arms held still. I had hope that he would be on this assignment, and as the door opened, a wave of relief hit me. My expression stayed stoic, unreadable. His face was the same, no emotion, no hint of what he did or did not remember. I was pushed into the seat next to him. He didn’t look at me, simply looking forward at the metal desk in front of us.

Pierce finally walked in the door. This must be a high profile mission if he’s here. Two folders were placed in front of us. We each opened our respective files, detailing the mission, even though Pierce began to explain.

“The two of you will be going on and undercover find and kill mission. You will be attending a charity gala for Rosenthal Industries, a former business partner of ours. Caleb Rosenthal will be attending the event. Your job is to get him alone, inject him with the neuro-agent, and make sure he’s dead. Your covers are listed in the file.” I nodded that I understood the mission, and so did Bucky.

The two of us were monitored during the car ride. We were meant to stay in the back while someone else drove the car. The entire ride was silent, the two of us trading glances at each other as we went over our respective files.

We were yet again set up as a couple, but we were meant to have some sort of agreement, an open marriage sort of situation. They were sending me to seduce the young Rosenthal, and get him alone. It was something that I had done millions of times it felt, but this mission was different. There was a more important objective at play, escape.

The minute we were given a room, we looked everywhere, analyzing and checking every item of the room for bugs or cameras. Once we confirmed there were none, I walked over to Bucky.

“What do you remember?” I asked, looking him dead in the eyes. I watched as the facade melted away from his face, the emotionless and cold look being replaced with a smile and adoring eyes.

I pulled his face down to me, pressing my lips to his. I tried to keep control, but it didnt last for long, as an arm snaked around my waist, the cold metal pushing up my shirt slightly to make contact with my skin. I gasped from the sensation, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

I felt the strain in my lungs, and broke the kiss, looking right back up at him.

“I know its been three weeks, but we only have three hours till the charity gala, and we both have to look presentable.” An idea popped into his head evident by the smirk appearing on his face.

“I mean, we definitely should take a shower first,” He said, hands moving up and down my sides.

“It’s probably a bad idea, but you are too good to pass up.” I yelped as my legs were sweeped out under me, Bucky carrying me through the air into the hotel bathroom.

Since we had to have a higher profile for this mission, the hotel room was much nicer than usual. The biggest excitement had to be the massive shower, more than big enough for the two of us. He put me down on the marble sink countertop, practically ripping his suit jacket and shirt off. My hands reached for his chest as he began to undo the buttons on my maroon dress shirt. Once the offending fabric was gone, he moved on to the rest of my clothing, ridding the both of us of any clothing that we had been wearing.

I whined at the cold as he left to go and start the shower, making sure that it was the right temperature. I didn’t want to wait for him to come back over to me, so I walked over to the shower, wrapping my arms around him from behind as he tested the water. I wanted to stay like that forever, simply cuddling myself into his back, the warmth of his body in contact with my cold skin. He began to turn and face me, and i loosened my grip so I could keep my arms around him.

“Doll, are you going to let go or are the two of us going to have to shuffle out way into the shower?” I pouted, but complied as he pulled me into the deliciously hot water.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” His hands grazed their way down and up me like they did before. I tangled my hand into Bucky’s hair, pulling his lips onto mine. I had no patience at this point, and neither did he, the kiss rough and passionate as I was backed into the wall of the shower. His mouth began to move from my mouth, trailing lower and lower. I felt the warmth of his tongue swirling around my nipple, and a gasp broke free from my lips. The smooth of his metal fingers toyed with the other, making me throw my head back into the tile of the shower.    

“Fuck, keep makin those noises, doll.” His mouth moved away, trailing even lower, leaving kisses on my hips. He looked up at me, his eyes once again scanning mine for any hint of hesitation. Even through everything, he was still so kind, so sweet and concerned for me, it made me fall in love with him all over again. I was so distracted by my own sappy thoughts, that Bucky got the jump on me, licking one broad stripe up my pussy, nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs with how much I needed him. My hands flew to his hair, tangling into the long locks and pulling him closer. He moaned, sending vibrations straight to my clit, which only made me cry out and pull harder.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I could feel that knot that continued to tighten in my stomach. My hips began to try and move on their own, but Bucky’s hands pinned me to the tile wall so I couldn’t. I was pulled out of my trance as I felt two cold fingers slip inside of me.

I screamed his name out as his fingers began curling and pressing against the sweet spot inside of me, the combination of both his mouth and his fingers finally pushing me over the edge.

Buck held me down, helping me through my orgasm, holding my hips so I wouldn’t fall, and licking up every drop of my cum until he was satisfied. He finally stood up, making sure to hold me up so my legs wouldn’t give out from under me, his flesh hand pushing my chin up so he could look at me. My hands reached out to grab his cock, wanting him to get something out of this too, but he pushed them away.

“Not today, Doll, we gotta actually shower now, like you said, remember?” I groaned, but I knew that he was right. We had a mission to prepare for, and a plan to enact. Still holding me up, he moved me into the jets of water coming from the shower head. The hot water hit the back of my neck nicely, as Bucky squeezed out some of the soap into my hand. It felt like his hands were everywhere, assisting me with washing every bit and piece of me. Once I was finally able to stand on my own, he moved to get the shampoo, telling me to turn around and step out of the water.

He stood behind me, his hands in my hair, making sure that every single bit had been properly shampooed. I couldn’t help but sigh as his fingers worked the bubbles into the roots of my hair. Once he was finished, I stepped back under the water, as he aided in the washing away of all the shampoo and suds for one last time before the two of us switched places.

Although I knew that we had to go quickly, we, more like I, needed the time to get ready for the gala, but how could I not take the chance that I had been given to enjoy what he looked like, being able to simply move my hands over his chest, spreading the now foamy soap across his body. I moved my hands across every part of him, making sure he was perfectly clean for the gala. Once I got to putting the shampoo in his hair, I noticed a bit of a problem. Although I wasn’t the shortest person in the world, Bucky was still much taller than me, which created a bit of an obstacle when trying to wash his hair. I got up on the balls of my feet in order to reach the top of his head, collecting all of his hair in my hands to make sure everything was washed and clean. I felt as his muscles relax, as if he didn’t even know that they had been tensed, as my fingers worked at his scalp. If I wasn’t allowed to touch him in the way that I wanted, I would make him feel good in any way I could. He turned back around and into the water, rinsing all of the shampoo out of his hair.

I looked in front of the large mirror that lined one side of the bathroom. As I looked at myself, my thoughts wandered away from me. In all the time that I had been a soldier, the only women that I had ever come in contact with were doctors and nurses whenever I would get hurt on the job. They were extra careful with me, maybe it was because my face was valuable, or some bullshit like that. Other than that, I had never once seen a woman in any facility I had been in. I thought about this as I looked at myself, as the supplies and wardrobe given for me for the mission simply could not have been picked out by the type of men that I had met as a soldier. The makeup was high quality, clearly expensive, with perfect matches in color and shade in comparison to both my skin tone and the dress that I was given. The floor length black dress hugged my body in just the right way while also hiding the shiny silver of my leg. My hair was styled and put up and out of my way, both appropriate for the situation and the mission. I smiled at this woman that I did not recognize in the mirror. This was not me, this was Rose Castellan. I liked her, she wasn’t turned into a soldier against her will, experimented on and tortured for as long as she can remember.

I turned around, breaking away from my little pity party to see Bucky behind me, clearly struggling with his hair and tie.

“Help?” He looked so confused, and I smiled. I knew he didn’t tend to go on these types of missions, at least never by himself. He always struggled with his metal arm and trying to tie his tie, as well as never knowing what to do with his hair.

“Sit down, I’ll help with your hair first.” He sat in the chair that I had pulled into the bathroom from the desk. He complied as I began to fix his hair.

“So, any new memories in the last few days?” I asked, picking up the hairbrush and pulling it through his hair to get out all of the knots and tangles.

“There’s this one name that keeps repeating itself in my head, Steve. I know it’s important, I just can’t quite put my finger on who it is or why they are important.” I nodded, noting the information in my head.

“I am having the same situation. There’s a B rattling around, and I can’t quite get the rest of the word, but the B is there.” My hands gathered as much hair as I could in my hands, pulling it up to the top of the back of his head. “I have some parts that are solid progressions of time, but then it simply stops, sometimes for months, other times for years, is that like that for you?”

“Yeah, I can remember some missions that come in order, but then it just stops, and then starts back up later.”

“They really did a number on us the last time it worked when the tried to fry us, I could have sworn that I knew where all that time was going.” I pulled the elastic from my wrist, pulling it over the bundle of hair that I had gathered into a small top knot that kept his hair out of his eyes. His eyes scanned over his reflection in the mirror, clearly not used to the different look.

“Did I do ok”

“Of course, doll, just going to take a bit of getting used to.”

“You know you don’t need to keep it.”

“Yeah, but I liked it when you did it.” My eyes drifted to the ground for a moment as a blush spread over my face.

Bucky stood up from his chair, standing facing towards me. Taking the tie in my hands, I moved the fabric in and out of itself until it formed the knot that it was meant to. Finishing it off, I buttoned the front of his jacket, completing the look.

Glancing over at the clock, I saw that it was almost time to go. Luckily enough, we didn’t have to get into another car with another random driver, the Rosenthal Building was right next to our hotel.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” He asked, as the two of us began to get our things together to leave.

“After we complete the objective, instead of returning to the hotel and checking in with Pierce for extraction, we disappear, find somewhere off the grid that we can hide out for a little while so we can recover more memories,”

“Sounds like a good idea, we can’t plan too far ahead, we weren’t given schematics of the building or anything.” We looked at each other, nodding, before he offered his arm out to me, escorting me out of the hotel room.

I picked up a drink off of the small tray that was held by one of the servers in the ballroom. I thanked him, and Bucky did the same. Swirling my finger in my drink, I looked at the polish on my fingernail to see if it had changed color. It hadn’t. The drinks were clean.

The room was exactly how you would expect, with the fanciest furniture and decorations that money could buy, the guests all in the finest and most up to date fashion, everyone talking about their recent business ventures and lavish trips around the globe. There was an anger burning in me, but I had no idea where it came from. The two of us scanned the room, looking for the target.

I looked over to see the target, Caleb Rosenthal. He was young, maybe in his mid twenties, with a pretty face and a lot of money. It was clear to see that this man had never met any sort of opposition or struggle in his life, always given everything he had ever wanted. I looked at Bucky for a sort of confirmation that I should start, and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the small group that Rosenthal had been talking to. I sauntered over, getting his attention.

“And who might you be?” His voice was unbearable, the entitlement and ego dripping off of his words.

“Rose Castellan of Castellan and Stowe Law, we haven’t met formally.”

“I would have remembered a face like yours, what’s your deal?”

“We mainly work in company lawsuits. We’re the guys that save your ass if you do something everyone will regret.” He laughed at the comment, before shooing the rest of the crowd around him away.

“Would you like to dance?” He offered his hand to me, and I smiled sweetly at him, taking it as he led me to the dance floor. His hands were sweaty and wet, but I suffered through it. The two of us danced for a while as the soft and slow music played in the background. I glanced over to see Bucky watching us with a laser stare.

“So who’s the guy?” Rosenthal asked, gesturing towards Bucky.

“My husband, but don’t worry about him.”

“Oh, and why is that?” His voice had that air of suggestiveness to it that made me want to throw up in my mouth. I leaned into him, getting my face close to his ear.

“Let’s just say the two of us have a bit of an arrangement,” I made the underlying tone of the sentence all the more apparent as I moved his hand lower down my back to rest on my ass. He looked surprised at how forward I was being, but it didn’t take long for him to lean into my ear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Lead the way.” Rosenthal took my hand and began to lead me away from the party.

The two of us walked the hallways, as Caleb tried to find an appropriate room in his own building. I looked behind me, and in the darkness of the hallway, hidden well by the shadows lurked Bucky, watching to make sure that nothing would go too far.

Once he found an office that he deemed suitable, he swung the door open, looking both ways down the hall before opening the door and letting me walk in. He locked the door behind him, and his lips were on mine, pushing me into the desk. I sat myself on the desk as he began to move his gross and sloppy kisses down my neck. I pulled the small patch out of the secret pockets of the dress, perfectly designed. As I moved my hand around his neck, I pressed the patch into his skin, watching as the material disappeared into his flesh.

It only took moments for the toxin to hit him. He stumbled backwards from me, holding his head in pain, uttering a weak “I don’t feel so good,” before hitting the floor. I checked the man’s pulse, confirming his death, before stepping over the body and unlocking the door. Bucky was on the other side, waiting for me.

“He’s dead?”

“Are you really going to question it? I know what I’m doing!” I said, punching him in the shoulder, the attempt at comedy trying to cut the edge of the situation.

“Let’s go.” Bucky began walking down the hallway behind me, as we tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There was always a garage door when it comes to facilities like this, and thats what we were going to go to, getting into the elevator and pressing the buttons for the ground floor.

Once the doors closed, Bucky pulled me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, soft and sweet, a comfort.

“What was that for?”

“I just want to make sure I did that, no matter what happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen, this is the perfect plan.”

That was when the elevator doors opened into the ground floor, and a man was standing there.  He nodded to us, before getting into the elevator as we got out. The two of us looked for some sort of lab, anything labeled as such. I couldn’t believe how lax the security was, but I didn’t say anything, that wasn’t our concern. Finally we found where we needed to be, a large garage, that opened up. I opened the door as Bucky watched for people around us. The entire situation felt off, like this was too easy.

Suddenly, agents began bursting in through the doors, none of which I recognized. I looked to Bucky, and he simply yelled, “Run!”

I did as I was told, sliding underneath the door and running into the street, witnesses everywhere as I ran as far as I could. People looked confused, and understandably so, a girl dressed like a debutante running through the city as fast as she can in heels. My heart pounded in my chest, as I kept looking behind me for Bucky, where was Bucky? He had to have made it out, he was a better soldier than me, he was a stronger soldier than me.

20 blocks, at least, thats how far I ran, before I finally stopped. I took so many turns that they would have had to have lost them, but there was no Bucky. I waited in that spot for a little while , an alleyway occupied by a small population of homeless people.

Bucky had to have gotten out, he had to. He just must have gone a different way, yes, that’s it! He had to have just taken a different route, ended up in a different part of the city. We would find each other later.

I looked down to what I was wearing, the clothing too distinctive. I scanned my surroundings, seeing a girl, roughly my age and size.  I went up to her, surprising her slightly.

“Hey, do you think I could trade clothes with you?” She looked at me funny for a second, but then quickly nodded. The two of us walked into the privacy that the shadows of the alley provided, shucking layers of clothing off of us, trading what one had for the other.

As I zipped up the sweatshirt and jeans given to me, I looked at the girl, still confused and concerned as to why I had asked her to take the clothing.

“You’re gonna be able to get at least 2,000 for this at a pawn shop, don’t let it get damaged before the morning unless you plan on keeping it.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and nodded, going back to the corner that she had come from.

I left the alleyway, and once again began to move, trying to find a different place to camp out for the night. I had no money, so a hotel was out of the question, and it wasn’t as if I knew anyone that I could stay with.

I was lucky that one of the things that I had gotten real good at during my training, was pickpocketing. No one was the wiser, as I moved flawlessly on the streets, anyone who dared walk next to me was subject to the loss of their wallet. I continued like this until I found myself another homeless camp, huddling in with the mass of smelly bodies.

I turned to one of the people huddled around a small fire, warming his hands. “What city is this?”

“We’re in New York, you really must have taken something strong.”

[americasass81]

Because You Loved Me

Warnings:- Mentions of Surgery, Mental and Emotional Exhaustion, Very Brief Mention of Drugging, Fluff, M & F Smut (more implied than outright described).  Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.  Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Synopsis:- Feeling low from the grind of daily life, your man tries his best to bring a little light back to your life.

A/N:- Though not a sequel, in my mind this can take place in the same AU as my other Brock fic, Peeling Back The Layers.  Yet both can be read independently of each other.  Written with @saiyanprincessswanie in mind but at the same time it is still a pretty generic pile of fluff.  Hope you like Missy.

Word Count:- 3,165

You were exhausted . . . mentally, emotionally, physically.  You ached deep down in places you never knew you could and the more you thought about it, the more exhausted you became.  As the night's respite gave way to morning's light, your first thought always seemed to be 'how do I face another day?'  Yet somehow you always found a way.  Despite the knocks life kept sending your way and the weariness weighing down your soul, you were at heart a positive person and was determined to embrace the good things in life no matter how hard that may be.

With that thought in your head, you dragged your feet out of bed and making your way to the bathroom, used the facilities and showered under the warm, refreshing water before returning to your bedroom to get ready for the day ahead.  Heading to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast you ate in silence as you waited for Brock to show up.  Thinking back on the almost six months since that fateful day he came to your rescue, it had been one adventure after another.

Despite all your health issues and the unpleasant grind of daily life, this gruff looking man had become a balm for your slowly fracturing soul.  Taking you places you never thought you'd see, while telling you he loved you every chance he got, you still wondered what you had done in this life or any other to deserve him.

Finishing up your food, you deposited the bowl in the sink and thought about what you might do for the day, but found you couldn't really find the motivation.  Instead, taking the latest mystery novel you were reading, you headed out to the back garden to hopefully relax and catch up on another chapter.  Getting a few pages in however, you suddenly dropped the book in your lap as tears inexplicably cascaded down your cheeks.

Feeling lower than you had in a really long time, you were shocked to open your eyes to discover yourself nestled against a strong chest as two powerful arms wrapped around you.  "My love, why do these tears stain your beautiful cheeks?" Brock asked and you had to smile a bit at the fact that what should have sounded cheesy actually sounded sweet.  "I hate seeing you like this," he added before you could answer, "please tell me what's wrong."

Looking at the man who had come to mean so much to you in such a short space of time, you snuggled deeper into his chest as you thought about all the negative thoughts weighing on your soul.  Looking up at him eventually as he waited patiently for you to speak, you took a deep breath and thought carefully about what you wanted to say.

"I don't really know Brock, I guess I just feel like one raw, emotional nerve.  The world seems so full of needless hate, my upcoming surgery has me scared and exhausted and sometimes I don't know why you're here with me or what I even have to offer this world." you explained and it hurt him deeply that the girl who saw so much good in him and helped awaken and nurture it, was now questioning her own worth.

Taking time to dry your tears, this powerhouse of a man who never thought he would be worthy of anything waited until he was sure you had talked yourself out before speaking.  "Oh my love, please know that while your feelings are valid and you have every right to be exhausted, you are also a shining light in the darkest night."

Gazing down at you with more love than he ever thought he was capable of feeling, he bent forwards and kissed you tenderly, hoping to convey all the emotion his heart held for you.  Continuing to hold you a while longer, he soon found you fast asleep in his arms and so taking you inside, placed you lovingly on the bed before heading to the bathroom to clean up.  Looking at himself in the mirror he hoped with every fiber of his being he would be able to find his sweet, beautiful girl again and bring her home.

Returning to the bedroom to dress quickly and quietly, he placed a soft kiss against your forehead and whispered he loved you before heading to the living room to make good on his plan.  Knowing that you always put everyone before yourself and that you didn't like to put people out, he also knew that a break back in nature was just what you needed.  Arranging everything with an old friend, all he had to worry about now was moving you from a to b without you objecting.

Hearing you stirring around the bedroom some time later, he hurried in and told you that if you were feeling up to it he'd take you to your favorite restaurant, otherwise he'd happily cook for you and come up with some way to help you relax.  Looking at him like he'd suddenly grown two heads, you blurted out the question on your lips before you could stop yourself.  "Are you telling me you know how to cook?  Something other than tea and toast?"

Smirking at your cheek to cast aspersions on his cooking ability, he swiftly traversed the space between you and taking you gently in his arms, kissed you with a passion that all but took your breath away before speaking as he ran his hands along your back.  "How are you doing baby?  Did the rest help any bit?"

Sinking into his warm and loving embrace, you wondered what you had done right to end up with this loving and thoughtful man.  Sure some people still saw him as a gruff outsider, but to you he was your rock.  Someone you knew in the depths of your soul would gladly take on your suffering if it meant you got to live a life free of pain and worry.  Concerned by your non response, he moved a hand to your chin and cupping it gently, gazed into your ethereal features while he waited for you to find your voice.

"Yeah, some bit." you replied meekly, taking his hand and kissing his palm before bringing your fingers together.  "I don't know.  I just wish I could get away from it all for a while.  Somewhere the stress and worry of being me wouldn't follow.  Crazy right?"

"No baby," he said, walking both of you towards the bed before sitting down and placing you in his lap, "that's not crazy at all.  Your battery's probably running on empty.  What you need is a few days away from the world."

"Yeah right Brock and how can that happen?” you laughed, swatting him playfully on the arm.  “I have doctor's appointments out my ass and you have work commitments.  It's a nice dream, but that's all it is." you sighed, resting your head against his shoulder as he hummed some unknown song against your skin.  "By the way, did you mention something about food?" you asked suddenly and you both laughed as a very unladylike sound rumbled through your stomach.

"I did," Brock answered between snickers, "but something tells me even if I didn't, my girl needs rations."  Then releasing you and walking hand in hand to the kitchen he sat you down at the table and went about preparing a glorious meal.  Finally filling you up with wine, pasta and brownies from your favorite bakery, he coaxed you onto the couch with a good book while he began cleaning the kitchen and by the time he was finished you were once again fast asleep and he could begin implementing his plan.

Moving swiftly and stealthily around the house with the skill only someone in his previous profession could master, he packed a bag of essentials for each of you, threw them in the back seat and then lifting you gently, carried you to the car and secured you in place.  While he had thought about drugging you to make sure you slept through the drive, he knew you wouldn't appreciate that and so offered up a silent plea that you wouldn't wake until morning.  Then setting off into the night, he hoped the next few days would recharge your battery and reignite your dimming light.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Waking up the next morning to a warm body at your back, which had become the norm since Brock Rumlow entered your life, you worried you had actually lost your mind as you opened your eyes to be greeted by a room that wasn't your own.  Further cementing your out of body experience, you pulled back the covers to reveal that you were currently wearing your favorite comfy sleepwear when your last conscious memory was falling asleep on the couch after dinner.  Looking now between your surroundings and your boyfriend, you quickly realized some major shenanigans were at play and taking a pillow, proceeded to start whacking the sleeping giant beside you.

"Brock?  Hey Brock?  RUMLOW." you eventually shouted while bringing the pillow down with as much force as you could muster.  "What the hell is going on here?" you asked as he opened his eyes and stared up at you.

"Baby, keep it down.  It's still early." he whined, reaching out to pull you down gently against his waiting body.  Kissing every available inch of skin his lips could find, he carefully and easily rolled over you, removed your shorts as he rested between your legs and proceeded to eat you out twice until you were nothing more than a blissed out mess beneath him.  Then leaving the bed to retrieve a cloth, he cleaned you up while you questioned what was to be done with the prominent bulge hidden within his boxers.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that baby.  This trip is all about helping you unwind.  Now how about we get up, have some breakfast and I can show you around?"

Agreeing half-heartedly as your eyes still lingered on his crotch, he promised he might let you cop a feel at some point.  Laughing at his crass choice of language, having just brought you to two of the most pleasurable orgasms you could ever remember experiencing, he helped you out of bed and handed you a duffle bag before reaching for what you could only assume was his own.  Pulling open the zipper, you were both surprised but not, when you discovered a few days worth of clothes inside.  Taking out some jeans and a t-shirt you dressed in time to see Brock put away his bag and reach out his hand for yours.

Opening up the bedroom door, he explained the bathroom connected to both the bedroom and the living room, while the kitchen made up the rest of the cottage.  Allowing you out the front door while he made a start on breakfast, you discovered the cottage called Daisy Grove, was aptly named given that the cottage was indeed surrounded on either end by the most beautiful patches of wild daisies you had ever seen.

Watching the birds flying and nestling in the trees all around you, you took a few tentative steps off the porch along the scrub lined path and relished the sound of twigs and leaves underfoot as nature sang as far as you could hear.  Totally engrossed in your own world, you were unaware of a keen set of eyes now following you from the door as Brock watched you slip away into a space that brought joy to your heart and a lightness to your spirit.

Hating to drag you away from the one thing that seemed to bring you peace, you turned back sharply towards the door as Brock called your name.  "Breakfast is ready, my love.  Perhaps after we've eaten I can introduce you to the treasures awaiting you out the back door.  Running carefully back to your man, you threw yourself into his strong arms and all but squealed as he picked you up and carried you inside.

Sitting you at the table as he plated up the food, he tried to eat as best he could as you juggled between eating your own breakfast and firing any question you could think of at him.  Enjoying how invested you were in the wonderful property you currently inhabited, you having to take a sip of juice as you nearly choked was enough of a risk for the former soldier.  "Baby please, I say this with the utmost respect, but shut up." he laughed as your breathing returned to normal and you playfully stuck out your tongue at him.  "I promise I'll answer any more questions you have once we finish eating."

Nodding in agreement, the rest of breakfast was eaten in silence until Brock got up to clear the table and your questions began again.  "Where did you find this place?  How long are we staying?  What is there to do around here?"  Oh that last question he answered with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"What we're going to do here is everything and anything that calms your soul, warms your heart and makes your spirit soar.  In short, all the things you've done for me."  Smiling now as he took your hand and led you out the back, your eyes widened when you saw the river waiting before you.  Though totally unsure about the boat Brock pointed to, you placed your trust in him and was pleasantly surprised when a wonderful, relaxing day was had.

Treating you then to a wonderful dinner, the rest of the evening was spent relaxing in front of an open fire with a sappy romantic comedy before Brock carried your tired form back to bed, where allowing his cock to get reacquainted with your pussy, you once again had a gloriously peaceful sleep.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Facing the world anew at sunrise, the next few days were everything Brock had promised and you couldn't remember when you last felt so well rested.  Feeling so carefree at this moment in your life as a result of the routine your wonderful man had set up, waking you up every morning with his mouth attached to your pussy, your days were then spent leisurely walking through the surrounding area, enjoying boating and Brock fishing on the river along with foot rubs, reading or watching various rom coms.

Then once he had you properly fed on spaghetti with wine and brownies or steak with baked potato and chocolate chip cookies after, he would ensure that one way or another your world was rocked before sleep claimed you.  You even remembered the fun that was had on your last day when Brock had tried unsuccessfully to get you to eat some of the fish the river had provided.

Telling him in no uncertain terms that you would not eat anything you had watched him kill while in the middle of baking brownies and cookies together, half an hour later as a glorious smell filled the cottage and Brock's solid shaft filled your pussy, you finally discovered the real fun that could be had baking together.

When he finally had you satisfied and removed the delicious treats out of the oven, Brock informed you he was going to do a quick sweep of the property before you left in the morning.  Snuggling into the couch with a good book, that was exactly where Brock found you an hour later when he finally returned to the cottage.  "Hey baby, you still where I left you?" Brock called out as he closed the door behind him.

Looking into the living room before you had a chance to answer, he was indeed rewarded with you stretched on the couch bathed in the glow of the firelight.  Swearing that he had never in his life seen anything so heavenly, he sauntered into your presence with a sly smirk on his face and his hands hidden behind his back.  "Hey Brock, you were gone quite a bit.  Is everything alright?"

"Everything's perfect baby.  Everything's tied up or put away as it should be, I just had to pick up something for you," and he couldn't hide the grin that graced his features as you suddenly sat up eager to see what he had for you.  "Now keep in mind it's nothing fancy, but it made me smile and think of you." he continued and with that he produced a beautifully woven circle of daisies.

Looking at him as he sat down beside you and placed it over your head, your eyes then fell on the flowers before speaking.  "It's beautiful Brock, but what is it?"

"It's a daisy chain baby.  Stronger than shackles and chains, it ties you to me forever.  Just like mine ties me to you," and with that he removed the t-shirt to reveal the chest you just now realized he had strategically kept covered since before this trip began.  The reason for this soon seared itself into your memory, when there above his heart was a tattoo of the same daisy chain you now wore, but in its center nestled your name.  Trailing his lips along your neck as they made their way towards your ear, his next words brought you to tears.  “Forgive my lips.” he whispered between pecks.  “They find joy . . . in the most unusual places.”

"Oh my god Brock, you are such a dork." you sniffled as you reached out and ran our fingers over the ink.  Kissing your lips passionately once again before resting his forehead against yours, he knew he would do whatever he had to to maintain the light once more shining in your eyes.

Still watching you play with the daisies, he quickly answered your playful statement before laying you down on the rug beside the fire.  "We both know I may be a dork my love, but I'm only your dork." he said, as he then proceeded to spend the night pulling you apart multiple times on his mouth, fingers and cock.  Thoroughly fucked and covered in sweat, cum and various parts of each other's bodies you closed your eyes and drifted off towards the approaching morning.

Rising before you once again, Brock set about loading everything back into the car before walking into the living room to wake you up.  Helping you from the rug and guiding you into the bathroom, a gloriously hot shower and Brock's skillful hands worked out all the knots sleeping on the floor had given you before breakfast filled the void in your stomach.  Then reluctantly driving away from your little retreat knowing he had to take you home so could face what lay ahead, he drew comfort from the fact that for the past few days you had once again been his beautiful north star, burning bright with the energy needed to conquer whatever your illness and life threw at you.

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie

[engagemachine]

How would J react if Taylor swore infront/at him?

May 22nd: New update

Anon, I’ve been thinking about this ask for daaaaays. Had to write a fic. This is just part one (turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be--wrote it in one sitting) and I’ll post part two as soon as it’s done!

FYI: This takes place early on in Burn, probably sometime around chapter two, so Taylor is back in high school. 

---

It’s still snowing outside when Taylor slides into her seat for third period English. She loves the overlarge windows in here, stretching along almost the entire wall of the left-hand side of the classroom. Black windowpanes showcase the little fountain in the courtyard, the stone benches seated around it, and the long, winding sidewalk where each senior from the class of 2002 got to lay down a single handprint in the cement to commemorate their pending graduation. Taylor thinks she would’ve liked that, to immortalize a piece of herself in that way, inscribing her name inside her handprint. Taylor B. It intrigued her, the thought of someone walking over her handprint years later, wondering who Taylor B was, what she was like, where she was now.

The fountain is frozen over, and the courtyard is blanketed in a thick layer of snow, still untouched. She wonders what it says about her that she often fantasizes about being the first one to run out and ruin it, leave her footprints behind, crunch through snow that is knee-deep, that no one else has sullied yet. There’s something about being the first person to disrupt the beauty of nature. Like stepping on a fallen dead leaf, the satisfaction of hearing it crackle beneath your feet. Or jumping into a still lake, watching the ripples that fan out across the water as you break through to the surface. Like leaving footprints in the sand at the beach, only to have them rinsed away by the incoming tide moments later. It’s a temporary disruption—and perhaps that’s the appeal.

Taylor settles into her seat and takes out her books. The classroom is unusually bright, the sky outside milky and pale as the snow piles up, falling softly in great big clumps. Mrs. Herndan leaves the lights off because they don’t need them.  

Everyone is a little more animated than usual. If it keeps snowing like this, they might call it a half day and get to go home early. Taylor hopes that happens, that way she can order take-out and hang out with Mr. J. Maybe they can watch a movie together—something scary, so she has an excuse to cuddle up next to him, if he’ll let her. She’s been testing the boundaries of affection he’s willing to allow her to bestow, and recently she’s been surprised by how much she’s been able to get away with. Just last week she fell asleep next to him on the couch with her head on his shoulder—totally by accident—and he didn’t even move her. Just let her sleep there like that until she woke up, his hand heavy on her thigh, right above her knee, at which point she jumped up, all groggy and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She swore up and down that she was sorry, she’d never do it again. She was so afraid he’d be mad, but he just looked at her kind of funny, like he was trying not to laugh, and she blushed furiously and hurried off to her room.

Class is kind of boring, and it’s hard to focus when everyone seems just as distracted as she is. Mrs. Herndan has to stop her lesson twice just to tell everyone to be quiet and put their phones away. Taylor is snapped to attention each time she does. She didn’t even realize she had been staring at the window.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Herndan shouts out their homework assignment for the weekend, but it’s mostly lost to the din of jostling bodies and excited chatter of weekend plans as everyone fights to get through the door at once. Whatever. She’ll just have check the syllabus when she gets home. They’re reading Romeo and Juliet and it’s really hard to understand. Maybe she can find a way to rent a movie of it from the library—there’s supposed to be a version with Leonardo DiCaprio, she thinks. Maybe that’ll help. Sometimes she wants to ask Mr. J for help—and in the past she has, like when she had to make that volcano for science class, and he knew exactly what to do—but Romeo and Juliet is way too embarrassing. All those thees and thous, the declarations of love. Like she could ever ask Mr. J to interpret that for her, not without dying from embarrassment first.

She gets twenty minutes into her next class before they finally call it on the overhead speakers—school is closed. She smiles to herself as she packs up her books, already imagining herself curled up on the couch with her sketchbook and a cup of hot cocoa. She should still have some marshmallows left over—as long as Mr. J hasn’t eaten them all. He’s always eating her snacks. Sometimes, in a moment of pure frustration upon stumbling onto an empty bag or box of secret snacks she had stashed away specifically for herself, she tells him to buy his own snacks, but he always counters with, I did buy these, giving her a pointed look, and, yeah, he kinda did. It’s his money, after all. Not like she could buy any of this stuff without him.

She’s pulling the rest of her books from her locker and shoving them into her backpack when she feels a tap on her shoulder from behind. She turns around to face Jennifer Bartlett—from her geometry class—who is holds out a pink envelope decked in glitter and little metallic hearts.

“You’re inviiiiited,” she sings, thrusting the card into Taylor’s hands. Taylor blinks at her.

“Me?” she asks. Clearly this is some kind of mistake. Maybe a joke.

“It’s a sleepover, so bring a sleeping bag, okay? And like, don’t tell your mom or whatever, but my parents won’t be there, so make sure you just get dropped off in the driveway and none of your parents try to come inside.”

“Oh,” she says, her mind still swirling from the invite. A sleepover. “Okay.” She forces her gaping mouth shut, quickly nods, tries not to look too overeager. “Okay,” she says again, a little cooler, smiling a little. “I’ll totally be there.”

“Great!”

Jennifer bounds off down the hallway, joining a group of giggling girls waiting for her at the end, and Taylor looks down at the envelope in her hand, her name on it and everything. Taylor B.

She bites her lip and smiles.  

--

Taylor can’t get home fast enough.

The bus takes forever, and they have to divert into South Side because of an accident near Paramount Park.

When she finally hops off the school bus and bounds for home, perhaps she takes off a little faster than she should. One moment her backpack is bouncing behind her as she races down the sidewalk, and the next, she’s spread-eagled and lying flat on her back, staring up at the gray sky as snow drifts down in soft little clumps around her. Oof. That hurt. She didn’t hit her head—thankfully—but she managed to scrape her cheek on the icy pile of snow packed into a miniature wall along the edges of the sidewalk. She thinks her cheek might be bleeding.

She doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing: the fact that she fell, or that the bus driver didn’t stop to help.

She winces as she gets up, wipes the blood from her cheek, brushes the ice and snow from her hands, wipes her palms on her jeans. The bus hisses as it pulls away, and Taylor’s cheeks burn. Maybe no one saw?

Her right leg kind of hurts, and she hobbles the rest of the way home, her excitement not dampened as she crashes through the front door, making it halfway through the kitchen before she remembers to shimmy out of her wet boots. Her socks are wet—there was a lot of slush on the sidewalks the closer she got to home—and her feet leave little wet prints on the kitchen floor before she gets to the carpet. 

“Mr. J!”

He’s not in the living room, and he’s not in his bedroom, either, when she throws open the door and scans the bed, his empty desk. She frowns, pokes her head around the doorframe to her own bedroom. Not there, either.

“Mr. J?” She goes back to the beginning of the hallway, knocks eagerly on the closed bathroom door. She can see yellow light bleeding out from the crack beneath the door, doesn’t know how she missed that before. “Mr. J, you’ll never guess what happened at school today!” She waits a beat for him to say something—a grunt, even, some form of acknowledgement that he hears her, she’d take anything—but when she’s met with silence, she barrels on. “I got invited to a slumber party!” she gushes. She has both palms pressed flat against the door, is bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I ran all the way home to tell you, I can’t believe it!” she squeals. “It’s this Friday so we have to go to the store A-S-A-P so I can get a sleeping bag, okay? I mean—if it’s okay with you that I can go. But I’m sure it will be because I really want to go and I’ve never been to a sleepover before.” She sighs, taking a breath. He still hasn’t said anything, so she turns her back to the door and leans against it. He has to come out eventually. “And you won’t even have to worry about dropping me off because I can just take the bus, okay? I looked up Jennifer’s address at the library at school and I already wrote down how to get there, so I won’t get lost! Oh, and maybe I should get new PJs, too? And do you think that—”

The door is jerked open so suddenly she doesn’t have time to react, and she’s falling backwards before she can catch herself, straight into Mr. J’s chest.

He’s holding her underneath her arms, and she tilts her head back to look up at him—upside down—as he looks down at her. His greasepaint’s bright. Fresh-applied. She can smell its gummy texture.

She smiles up at him, a little unsure. A little frightened. His eyes are so dark. “Jeeze,” she says, lightly, trying to dissolve the tension. “You have to give me a warning, Mr. J.” She tries to laugh a little, but it comes out stilted, and the look he pins her with makes the smile slip right off her face.

“Maybe I would if I could get a word in,” he replies. He gets his arms behind her and pushes her off him. Taylor’s cheeks burn as she stumbles a few feet into the kitchen. She knows she talks a lot when she’s excited. She’s like a faucet that won’t turn off.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. She keeps her head low, a little afraid to meet his eyes. He’s in a bad mood—but she’s determined to go to this party either way, and she won’t stop prodding until he says yes. She glances up for just a second to catch the narrowing of his eyes, and then his hand is reaching out, closing around her jaw in a way that makes her flinch, pulling her towards him.

“What’s this?” he says. His eyes on her skin burn, and it makes the cut on her cheek throb in memory.

“It’s nothing,” she says, annoyed, maybe a little embarrassed. She doesn’t want to have to tell him that she slipped and fell. Also, can they please get back to talking about her slumber party? She impatiently reaches up and pries his hand off her—he lets her. She ventures a few steps back, watching him, and her back hits the counter with a thud. “But about the party—it’s okay if I go, right?”

He ignores her question in favor of taking a few lumbering steps closer—towering over her—and his fingers around her jaw are much softer this time when he takes it in his hand, tilts her head to the side so the cut on her cheek winks at him in the light that streaks out from the bathroom.

He sounds almost curious when he asks, “Did someone hit you?”

His question feels like a gut-punch. She looks up at him, eyes widening in surprise for a moment, and then her gaze narrows, and she’s a little more forceful this time when she pries his hand off her jaw.

“No,” she snaps. She can’t believe he thinks she got bullied. “I’m not a loser. I know how to fight back if I have to,” she scowls.  

He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes hard and calculating, but she makes a point to meet his stare head on. She’s not going to flinch away. After a beat, he grins a little—some secret smile, like he’s in on some joke she’s not privy to.

“Of course you do,” he says.

“So can I go to the slumber party or not?”

Mr. J raises his eyebrows as he thinks about it. “Dunno,” he says, “I seem to recall your last little, uh, party, didn’t end so hot. Maybe you remember,” he muses, leaning down low, so their faces are level, “—or maybe you don’t, since you were high as a fucking kite.”

Taylor balks at him—he never curses, at least not around her—and she can’t help the way her mouth parts in shock. She can feel the threads of hope she’d been clinging to rapidly slipping out of her hands.

Truthfully, there’s not a lot she remembers from that night. Just a bonfire and a stranger’s half-remembered bedroom. The weight of a body she hadn’t wanted, a frisson of fear, electric as it sizzled down her spine, and then fumbling down the stairs, out the front door. Nobody had even cared. And then the frigid moon, the icy bite of wind on her cheeks. She remembers Mr. J, at some point, and waking up in that old airplane hangar, where she’d promptly puked her guts out over the side of the couch. The rest of that night is a blur. It’s probably better that way.

“It’s not—” she stops. Tries to find her footing around the right set of words. She just wants this so badly. It’s her one opportunity to fit in. To make friends. To be somebody. She wants so desperately to try and explain it to him, make him understand how badly she needs this—but somehow she knows he won’t get it. He doesn’t care about fitting in, or being liked—he’s the most unliked person in all of Gotham. Maybe even the whole world.

“It won’t be like that this time,” she assures. “There won’t be any boys there. I promise. It’s just a girl party. And I promise I’ll be really, really good and come straight home after.”

Mr. J’s eyes are dark as he watches her plead her case, and she takes the opportunity to stick out her bottom lip and put on an exaggerated pout. “Pretty please?” she says. “With lots of sugar on top?”

The corner of his mouth curls into a grin. “Okay, baby doll. Since you asked so nicely.”

“Eeep!” She squeals in excitement, immediately perking up, diving forward to throw her arms around his waist. She gives him a squeeze and he surprises her by patting her back. Once. Twice. His display of affection makes her cheeks warm, and she squeezes him a little tighter, happy to bask in the moment. “Thank you, Mr. J.”

--

Taylor buys a new set of jammies and a sleeping bag. She even spends the whole day prior reading about sleepovers, Googling at the library, getting more and more excited. She wonders if they’ll do face masks, or have a pillow fight, or watch a romantic movie, or paint each other’s nails? 

She goes to Mr. J to model her new PJs for him, a yellow top with tiny blue flowers, with little matching shorts and a scalloped hem. She is bouncing around his bedroom—she had a Red Bull earlier for the first time ever, and whoa—and she does a cartwheel on the bed once she has his attention, collapsing into a heap on the floor because she misjudged the distance. She giggles, and then uses the bed to pull herself up while she prances around the room and chatters about her slumber party. She has a little notepad she found in a drawer in the kitchen, and after a few minutes, she flops back on his bed, holding the notepad above her face. She’s making a list of all the stuff she might need to bring. She read online that sometimes you should bring snacks. 

“Hey Mr. J, cookies or chips?” she asks.

She turns to lay on her side, facing him, where he’s seated in his desk chair and has spun around to watch her, his fingers drumming against the armrests. His eyes are dark—but he doesn’t give her an answer. 

She scowls at his lack of participation, and redirects her attention back to her list, tapping her pencil against her lips.

“Hmm… sometimes cookies have peanut butter, even if they say don’t, and I know lots of people have peanut allergies, sooooo… I’ll go with chips,” she decides, resolute. Her tongue pokes out when she makes a careful, neat checkmark next to the word chips.

She crawls off the bed and skips around the room for a little while longer, clutching her notepad, chattering to herself, mostly. She plays with the books on the bookshelf, all the little knickknacks left behind by the previous owner, rearranging them while she talks, musing about how cool this party’s gonna be, how many friends she’s gonna make. It’s gonna be great.

She lays down on the floor to make some snow-angels on the carpet, flapping her arms and legs slowly, staring up at the ceiling, feeling her energy start to wane. She asks Mr. J if he thinks she should wear her regular clothes to the party, or if she should come dressed in her PJs? And doesn’t he think they’re really pretty? And her sleeping bag comes with a built-in pillow, and isn’t that super cool?

She jolts awake when a pair of arms slip underneath her, hoisting her up, off the floor. She must have fallen asleep.

She frantically blinks the sleep back from her eyes. It’s dark, and she can’t see. “What day is it?” she asks, panicked, her voice cracking. “Is it tomorrow yet? Did I miss the party?”

“Shhh.” Mr. J carries her the short distance to his bed, lowers her to the mattress even as she wraps her arms around his neck, refusing to be put down. She doesn’t even have the forethought to marvel over the fact that he’s just put her in his bed, that she’s lying down on his pillow, or that the covers smell like him. 

“But did I miss it? Is it over?”

She thinks she can hear a smirk in his voice when he says, “No, baby doll, you didn’t miss it. Time to sleep.”

He peels her arms away from his neck, and this time she lets him. She sinks into the mattress, and sinks quickly back into sleep. 

[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm(Alastor x Reader) Chapter 1

Daily routine isn't always good

(You call the old couple mom and dad) *Also sorry I didn't mention until now that you have really curly hair and your biracial(so you can decide what your skin color is)* •You were also raised up north and still kind of speak with that dialect• 

June 6, 1915 Age: 20

  The morning sun pushing through the curtains along with the sound of dogs barking slowly woke you up. Forcing yourself up and managing to bear from the comfort of your bed and it's still warm sheets. First, tidying your bed spread neat before mom could scold you.

  Making your way to the wardrobe to gather clothes for today's venture, you grabbed a (f/c) V-neck, short flutter sleeve dress that hits mid thigh. With matching flats to best match your dress. Oncing over the choice for today you thought it was best enough. Setting them on the bed and quickly making your way out of your room and into the hallway.

 Swiftly moving down corridor to the bathroom to freshen up before breakfast. Seeing that your old mom already set a nice bath for you. Letting your gown carelessly fall off your frame and removing your undergarments. Mindlessly going into deep thought about your day.

  You usually go to the library to read or grab a book. Maybe chat with the sweet old lady and her seven year old grandson who run the place. Then, possibly taking a stroll around the fair that just open for the summer. By that time your already bringing your twin something for lunch.

  Later, you either stop by the market to pick up groceries or you help your mom take care of wealthy white kids. Their parents pay mom a great deal to care for their children. She does literally everything for them from making meals to sewing dresses or little suits. But, some clients left after my brother and I showed up I guess they didn't want their children to be near a person of color for too long. The ones that stayed seem nice enough. My personal favorite being a middle aged man, Henry Bourgeois, who always said, 'hello' and gave me small tips for caring for his daughter Sally.

  Your skin started to prune sitting in the water for too long. Stepping out of the tub and snatching a towel from the rack you started to dry off. Starting with hair and slowly making your way down to your toes.

  Wrapping the towel around your womanly frame you crept back to your bedroom and got dressed.

__________________________

Once downstairs the smell of bacon and spices hit your nose and triggering your mouth to salivate. Walking into the kitchen you found your mom just about done with her last plate to place at the table with the two others. You greeted her with a warm hug and a 'Good Morning, Mom'. She smiled back and gave your cheek a quick peck. Then went to sit in your chair and wait for your plate.

"Good Mornin', sweetheart. How'd sleep?" She asked, turning back around to slide the eggs on the plate.

"Better than yesterday I can tell you that for sure. The dream I had was so realistic with the flames of hell melting my flesh. I could of sworn that my eyes busted through my soc-" You were cut off by a plate slamming down in front of. Looking up mom had a stern look to her aged face.

"Now ya need ta stop talking 'bout ya dreams like that. Really unladylike especially in public," She spoke with a slight authoritative tone. Lightly limping to her chair she spoke again, "it's just a dame should stay in her own lane. Not that I don't wancha to get a little fire on me now. Men just don't like that talk ya know."

Nodding to her response she took the answer and went on her to turn up the radio for the daily news.

Good Morning, ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to the radio show.

   Staring your favorite radio host, I Alastor, to brighten up your morning with a few songs, but let me darken your day for just a minute with such sad news. Another body was found by an egg last night floating down the bayou.

  Coppers have yet to capture this Button man. This tallies up to over twenty people in a span of two years.  Now what most of you fine folk want to listen to here we have, Mr. Artie Matthew's play the 'Weary Blues'

The piano playing filled in the silence that would have been forks hitting plates trying to pick up flimsy fried egg.

 The killings haven't been new and have been the norm for awhile. You can hear people talking about it at every street, alleyway and bar.

 The coppers haven't caught the guy yet and it puts lots of people on edge. Especially people with families.

 Nearly shoving food in my face causing mom to tell you to slow down. But, hardly listening you shove the rest of the bacon into your mouth and make your way to the sink to scrub your plate and placed it on the drying rack.

"Bye, mama. I'll be back before you know it!" You yelled from the front door way and before you could venture outside she yelled back.

"Pick up some milk and bread before ya get home, would ya?"

"I will, mama."

"Have a safe trip and the cabbage on the table for ya." She slightly limped over and gave both of your cheeks kisses.

Checking the table you hurriedly snatched the money and skipped out the door. Slamming it shut behind you.

Walking down the curvy road that leads into the city. The walk leads you through a small, little wood patch and into a small clearing that slowly shows small businesses and shops. The library is located near the school which is pretty far off from other buildings.

Reaching your destination, the library stairs are long wide, and white cemented staircase with two pillars on each side with the big doors that lead into the actually building. Pushing pass them you nearly run into a little boy, Joseph Bonnefoy.

"Oh, where are in such a rush to?" Smoothing out your dress asked in a slight taunting tone.

"Granny said I could go out for a short break. I'm getting myself a few chocolates as a snack." The words rushed out of his tiny mouth. Hardly catching his breath when he was finished.

"Well aren't you grown now, Joseph. Next thing you'll tell me your getting old enough to get your own house." Jokingly ruffling his hair, he smiled and waved off vanishing from sight once down the incline.

Sauntering into the building you noticed that Claire Bonnefoy wasn't at the front desk where she usually was. Probably in the back.

Making your way down the aisles of books you traveled around for a good five minutes passing books you didn't find interesting or they didn't have good covers. Coming across a couple of good ones you touched 'The Good Solider' reading the summary you decide to give it a try. °°It's set just before World War I and chronicles the tragedy of Edward Ashburnham, the soldier to whom the title refers, and his seemingly perfect marriage plus that of his two American friends.°°

Strolling around the aisle for a bit more you grace yourself with some dark writing. Traipsing on to some dark fiction you grabbed a fairytale book of the 'Grimm work original fairy tales'. Walking back to the front, Mrs. Claire was already their and ready for me. Smiling I greeted her and handed the books over. Smiling she rung them up and complimented the choice for this week.

" How have you been, Mrs. Claire. Not to intrude on your personal life, but is it true that the last person who died lived close to you." You questioned.

"Sadly, yes 'n I've been thinkin' of sendin' little Joseph up state with his aunt 'n uncle in Arkansas for awhile 'til this calms down." Her shaky hand clenched around the book harshly, "Or if they finally catch the bastard whose doin' all of this maybe mah little boy can stay. 'Til then mah old joints can't move like they use tah."

" Lititle Jo 's gonna feel so sad, he really likes New Orleans."

"Yes, I know dear. But, I'd sleep betta at night if he was somewhere safa." She slide the books in a paper bag and handed them over. A melancholy smile on her sweet face. "Been saving up on a train ticket for some time now. Most folk don't come by tah rent out books anymore. So, it took some time 'n hard work tah earn the money."

The killings have did put everyone at alert. Well, most people still hang out past sun fall just to watch the city come to life. Which I won't lie it is gorgeous to witness the night come to life. But, for old bims like Mrs. Claire she's dang plum tire and could use the time to calm her nerves. Maybe I should visit more once Joseph''s left.

"Thank ya, Miss. (Y/n). I'll see ya next week or so."

"The pleasure's all mine and I'll give these books back in no time."

Waving to the old bim you make your way back out the library and on tour way to your next destination.

    Making your way back to the house to fetch Issacs's lunch you had to maneuver your way through the crowd of busy people scrambling around to get out of the sweltering heat and catching up with friends.

 Your brother works at a boiler repair shop. Fixing cars and getting scraps of cabbage to make up for the bills that weren't paid. He's always been a hard working guy, he's selfless and protective. I still remember when we were kids and father used to hit him, so hard, but came to my defense whenever I was in trouble.

 Traveling down the dusty road you made it to the repair shop where two boobs stood out front. One was always silent and the other was a continuous flirt whenever you came around.

As soon as they could hear your shoes hitting pavement the flirt Clay shot up to welcome you.

"How are doing this afternoon, (y/n)." His hand went out to grab your, which you quickly pulled back, "you know that offer still stands that if you wanna get tonight."

"I would, but I'm pretty sure your wife would raise all hell." Walking past him to look further into the garage. "Where is my brother, is he not here?"

Floyd spoke up, which startled you. His voice is pretty deep and gravely for a man only four years older than yourself. Blowing the smoke from his mouth he tapped the ash upon the ground to stare at you.

"He left early to go out with his dame. Told us to tell ya not to worry too much and that he'll be back home later tonight." He stole another drag from the cigarette.

"He could at least gave me heads up before I came all the way out here. What I'm supposed to do with this now." Dangling the bag of food from side to side.

"I'll take it off ya hands for ya." Clay swooning in to steal the bag and retreat back to standing next to Floyd. "Wish my wife could cook like your ma."

  Huffing you said your good byes to them both with a very excited 'see ya' from Clay and a small wave from Floyd.

  Once far away enough you groaned louder to reduce some irritation of making this heart felt trip. Pulling on your face to stop tears from forming you sighed and kept walking to your next venture.

 The scratch mom gave you was enough for bread and milk. But, she also gave you enough to get something special from you little trip. You decided on a cup of coffee at the nearest restaurant with a beignet. It sounds so good right now and with more pep in your step you made it to the store in no time.

  The corner store was full of people that day bustling around to grab what they need and storm out. You being the small self you are you tried to cram your way in and failed miserably. You tried this process several times and came out with the same results. Someone bumped into your small frame and sent you falling backwards. Gloved hands snatched you up before you could hit the ground.

You were in a state of shock before being knocked out of your stooper by a young man who you realized pulled you off to the side. With eyes wide you tried to make conversation, but no words would come out the only thing you could look at was his face.

"T-Thanks for helping me." You tried to mustard a smile, but it came out weird.

"You look like you were in quite the pickle their, my dear." Hands still on your waist he motioned with his head down the street. "You know there's a nice restaurant around here that serves the best venison. I think you would just adore it. Could possibly calm your nerves my treat."

Mouth still dry you tried to speak, "I don't want to impose on your lunch regimen." Shaking your head and slowly moving backwards.

"Oh, but I insist my dear I did invite you didn't I." Pulling you closer by the hip, your face heated up more than normal. Now following the man who you didn't even pick up the name you two made your way around the corner and down the street.

  Stepping inside the small business you noticed only about six or eight people in here. Nicely decorated with bar stools and five booths along the wall and a bathroom across from the front entrance. But, it did smell really delicious in here maybe it won't be,  so bad to have just a bite to eat. He did say he was paying. He lead us to a small booth in the back and waited for me sit down first before taking his seat across from me.

 "Why did you bring me here I barely know you, sir?" Playing with your fingers to ease your nerves by making your fingers stretch and squeeze together.

 His eyes looked off to the side in deep thought before he shrugged. "You looked interesting, my dear." Reaching over he scratched under your chin and his smiled covered more of his face. "Smile my dear you know your never fully dressed without one."

 Making a smile fall upon your lips you smiled back. His eyes slightly narowed and his smirk stretched a bit. Suddenly, a very curvy and thick lady stood in front of our booth.

"Oh, Al are here to hear me sing again tonight. If you are your way too early, hun." She giggled.

"Oh no my dear, Mimzy. I'm here with a new friend of mine. She's going to have seasoned venison." His arm motion towards me and I froze on the spot.

Sticking your hand out for handshake, "HI, my name's (y/n). Nice to meet you."

She stared you up and down before slowly taking your hand and managing a small smile on her face. "You must be a fan, Al here, right. A lot of dumb dora fall head over heels for this man."

 I guess she read the confused look on your face and answered for you. "Alastor, the radio man of New Orleans."

"Oh, sorry I guess I didn't notice." Turning your attention to Alastor, "sorry I didn't recognize a popular figure like yourself."

"It's fine dear a lot of people don't recognize the voice with the look." I'm guessing he's talking the creole look. To be honest a lot of people don't sound like the ethnicity on the phone until you see their face. But, I can't really judge I get turned down in person more than on the phone looking for a job.

"Well I'll go tell the servers the usual for you, Al." She looked you over, again. "What will you have?"

"She'll be having the same as me, mim." Alastor strong smile had her face painted in a light pink. She straighten her posture and cleared her throat and told us it it'll come out in no time. Once she gone I asked how long they've known each other.

"Mimzy and I go way back when she was a small singer. Know she travels from time to time to spread that lovely voice of hers." You just took noticed he speaks with hands a lot more than most people. But, you seem to like that.

 Smiling back you told him that really amazing. It was you mothers goal before she stated using. He asked you about your occupation.

"Well, I really wanted to be a baker, but no plots are open, too expansive or I'm not the right skin tone for this establishment." Looking up for just a second you could have sworn the smile on his face fell and quickly went back into place.

"Isn't that just dreadful." He focused up at the ceiling for awhile and shot his head down to smirk at me, "How would like to work for me for a fair price a hour?"

"What?"

[bluesfortheredj]

Let your worries float away.

Smut ahead.

Lockdown had been tough on everyone; mentally, physically, and everything in between. It was tough not seeing family, it was tough not seeing friends, and it was really tough not being able to see the person you’d fallen for just before the world decided to go to shit face to face. Ben was everything you could have wanted, he was funny, kind, big hearted, compassionate, very handsome, and now you could only see him in real time through a computer or phone screen. You tried to look on the bright side; you were getting to know each other on a much deeper level than you probably would have if you had continued to meet up in person, but it was also torture when all you wanted to do was hold his hand or slide your arms around his body for a cuddle.

“I really miss you,” he admits out of the blue as soon as your next video call starts on one particularly rough day, “I know it sounds silly, but I wish I could hold you.”

You stare into those beautiful green orbs that shone so brightly when he was sitting on his bed facing the window, “I really miss you too, and it doesn’t sound silly at all. I wish I was in your arms right now.”

“I just…” he pauses to sigh and looks away from the camera for a moment before returning his gaze to the phone, “I know that you’re the one I want to be with. I’ve never opened up to anyone like I have done with you, and it’s not even because of the situation we’re in, I just feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“I feel the same,” you smile, your face beginning to feel hotter by the second.

“Shit, this is so frustrating,” he chuckles softly, “I really want to touch you… hug you… be near you!”

You giggle quietly, “hopefully it won’t be too long until we can see one another.”

“Wait… are you watching the news?” he asks, his eyes flicking from the phone to the TV behind it as a smile begins to spread across his lips, “oh my god, it won’t be long until we can see each other!”

“What do you mean?! I haven’t got the telly on!”

“Bubbles!” Ben laughs triumphantly, “we’re allowed to mix in bubbles!”

“What on earth are you on about?”

“You can create a ‘support bubble’ with another household… so… will you be my bubble?”

“Don’t you want to see your family?!”

“I want to see you,” he says sincerely as he stares directly into the camera, “and we don’t have to social distance if it’s just us we see.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Everyone else I know has someone with them, including family, and we’re both alone, so why not?”

“You make a good point… my mum and dad are together and they are quite far away so making a support bubble with them wouldn’t be as easy...” you pause as you think about it carefully, and you know that soon enough you would be able to see them anyway if restrictions were being eased now, “okay, let’s do it.”

“You have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” he sighs with relief as he drags his hand down from his forehead to his chin, “this couldn’t have come at a better time.”

You rest your head on your hand as you look at the screen and his giddy expression that fills the space, and your stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him in the flesh again. Things seemed to have gotten quite serious between the two of you over the last couple of months even though you couldn’t physically be together and you were hoping these feelings wouldn’t fade once you met again.

The day soon came around; you’d only had to wait a week for these new measures to be put into place and it had gone surprisingly fast which was both good and bad with how anxious you were feeling about him turning up on your doorstep after such a long time apart. The knock at your door made you jump even though you were expecting it, and you practically run to the door yet hesitate when it comes to opening it.

“Hi,” Ben grins breathlessly after having taken the stairs two at a time to get to your flat.

“Hi,” you reply shyly as you run your fingers along the door handle nervously and step aside for him to enter.

“This is weird… being in someone else’s place, I mean… it’s been so long.”

“Yeah, it’s strange having someone enter the flat,” you chuckle as you close the door behind him.

“Can I hug you? I promise I haven’t got it… well, not that I know of, but I-”

You cut him off mid sentence as you throw your body against his and wrap your arms around him tightly, and he laughs as he returns the embrace, burying his face in your neck as he revels in the much needed human contact, especially from you. This was a special moment for both of you; it had been months since you were able to touch anyone else, and the fact that the first contact with another human being was with each other only cemented your relationship.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Ben mumbles into your hair.

“Are you just saying that because I’m the first person you’ve hugged since lockdown?” you laugh.

“No!” he protests, pulling away slightly so he can see your face, “I’m saying it because I genuinely do not want to let you go.”

“I can live with that.”

Every day he visited went the same way; a long embrace followed by cooking together and watching the telly or playing a board game until he went home again. You should never have been worried about feelings fading once you met again, as they only grew stronger the more you saw one another, and you were soon seeing each other almost every day of the week. Ben was kind when you were anxious about the state of the world and would gladly hold you as you sat together on the sofa, stroking your arm until you felt the tension lift from your shoulders and the clouds in your mind part to allow you to think more clearly.

“How about we get away for a few days?” he asks after one particularly bad anxiety attack, “places are starting to open for people to stay, so why don’t we go down to the coast for a while?”

“That would be lovely,” you nod before sighing and melting into his torso.

Ben gets his phone out straight away, scrolling through booking apps to see what’s open to guests, and he soon finds a cottage by the beach with it’s own pool in the garden that’s available for an upcoming weekend. After passing it by you quickly and you promising to pay half he books it, and after months of not leaving the area you’re finally able to become excited about travelling out of the city and into some fresh air.

“So this means we’re serious now, you know that right?” Ben grins as you tilt your head up to look at the smile tugging at his soft lips.

“Well it’s about time,” you smirk.

Lockdown had almost got the better of you but now that you were packing a case ready for a weekend by the sea you were feeling better already, even though you were squeezing in a box of face masks and enough hand sanitiser for ten people. Ben had even bought a novelty swan float for the pool after being swept up in the excitement of it all, and you were looking forward to getting there to try it out and hopefully have your worries float away.

“Ready?!” Ben calls out, hopping from one foot to the other and jingling his keys impatiently.

“Yes!” you laugh as you emerge from the bedroom with your case, “let’s go!”

The journey to the coast was exciting enough as it was, and by the time you arrive at the cottage you’re both buzzing with enthusiasm; falling through the door in fits of giggles with your cases as your stresses have been left way back in the city. You begin to unpack upstairs as Ben runs out to the garden and begins to pump up the float like an excited child.

“(Y/N)! Come on!” he calls out as he begins to strip off next to the pool.

“Don’t tell me you were wearing swim shorts under your clothes the whole way here?!” you laugh as you step out into the modest garden.

“Uh huh,” he nods, sticking his tongue out a little as he tilts his head to the huge float now bobbing along in the water.

“Oh my god! I didn’t expect it to be that big!”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” he winks.

You roll your eyes and tut at him, “I’ll be back in a bit, I’ll just get changed.”

You’re back within a couple of minutes and Ben’s already lounging on the float in the starfish position with a huge smile on his face, and you gently dip yourself into the pool then climb up to join him with some help where you eventually settle in between his thighs with your back resting on his bare chest.

“Now this, this is what I’ve been dreaming of since we got locked down,” Ben sighs happily as his hands run down your sides and land on your hips.

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, “I think this was definitely worth the wait.”

Your hands rest just below his knees as his fingers begin to walk their way across your bikini bottoms and you involuntarily bite down on your lower lip until they stop to ask for permission. Ben holds his breath as you slowly spread your legs wider, giving him the consent he needed, then he exhales while his fingertips slip beneath the fabric and begin to explore a place they’d never been before. He plays, he teases, he runs along your slit so gently that you move your hips forward to try and gain some friction, and you can feel his quiet laugh vibrate against your back when you do so.

“Ben,” you breathe as your fingers tighten on his skin, “please.”

He pushes your bottoms down to your thighs and you wriggle your legs until you’re able to flick them off of one foot and into the pool, then he spreads your lips with one hand so the other has uninterrupted access to your sensitive nub and waiting entrance. He slips two fingers inside you before beginning to pump quickly in and out while his thumb rubs pleasurable circles around your sweet spot, and your grip on his legs is as tight as it can go as you lean your head back on his shoulder and let out a series of short pants.

“Does it feel good?” he whispers hoarsely.

“So good,” you whimper, “oh god, so good.”

Your eyes close as his rhythm gets faster and you’re already unbelievably close to the edge as the float bobs along on the water thanks to the movement you were both making. It was a strange sensation; you were filled with so much pleasure and the fact that your body was floating on water was making you dizzy as you neared your climax, and all too soon you were pulsating around his thick digits, your eyes now wide open as you moan his name.

“Shit, that was hotter than I thought it would be,” Ben says as he removes his fingers to suck them clean, “round two?”

“My turn,” you smile as you manage to move your legs until you’re kneeling up, then turn to face him.

The float wobbles beneath your knees but you steady yourself on his thighs and when it’s stopped moving so much you tug his shorts down and waste no time in taking him in your mouth, much to his surprise judging by his gasped groan.

“Holy shit!”

He looks down to see one of your hands on his thigh as the other moves up and down his stiff length just below your mouth, and he moves your hair to one side so he can see your lips sliding up and down his shaft. His body moves more than yours did and you’re definitely not steady on the dipped part of the float where most of your body weight is pushing it down into the water, but you’re determined to get him off before you sink into the water at least.

“(Y/N), bloody hell,” he whines, his hips bucking up off of the float and shaking you both.

You bravely move your hand from his thigh to slip it underneath his sack and massage it gently in your hand, and you can hear a moan from above you with every breath he takes which only spurs you on; your cheeks being sucked all the way in every time you reach his tip. He’s unable to move his arms after they were shocked into position by your bold move, and he stays gripping onto the sides of the float so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he heard a loud pop. A string of whispered words falls from his lips but you can barely make them out over the sound of the water in the pool lapping up at the plastic of the float, and you soon feel his arousal cover your tongue as his body relaxes beneath your hands, and when it’s disappeared down your throat you finally look up and wipe the back of your hand along your mouth with a chuckle.

“Well that was unexpected,” you smile.

“You’re telling me!” he pants, pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Hello! I have this giant swan pool float and it gave me an idea...Would it be possible for you to do a fic where Ben Hardy and the female reader are dating and they end up doing it on the float since its big enough for 2 people?

@peachllobotomy @lv7867 @aynsleywalker @pink-lemo @painthatiusedto @itisjustmethistime @mamaskillerqueen @queenslandlover-93

[florencewritez]

The cycle

AN: hope yall doing good, i am tired and listenting to kids by mgmt and only kids by mgmt.

WC: 1543 Words 

WARNINGS: lowkey toxic relationship but lowkey the point. alexs jumper gets ruined

"I can't wait to do this again." That's what he'd said the last time we broke up, messing with his hair and casually scrolling through his Instagram. I'd rolled my eyes at the time, saying it was the last time he'd ever see me long enough to say a word to my face. He didn't even look up from a screenshot of a football match, barely even hummed.

At the time, I'd believed my words, pushing past a very confused Alex holding two cups of tea, mumbling an apology before I slammed the front door closed and fell to my knees crying. I hadn't stopped crying till a deliveroo driver had to awkwardly sidestep past me and asked if I was waiting for the food. The taxi drive home had been silent, only noises being my sniffles and incessant typing on my phone.

Y/n: I broke up with George for real this time.

Will: You always say that

Will: By the way did you spill tea on Alex? He's very upset about some expensive hoodie being stained or something

At the time I'd left Will on read, sending Alex a half hearted apology with a few hearts and clicking off my phone. It was then the taxi man turned in his seat and asked if I had had a rough day. I just nodded back, sniffing extra loud for dramatic effect. Yes, I had the worst rough day ever. First, George forgot we had a date, again, and I had to go to his flat to remind him. Then it turned out he'd forgotten to book the damn restaurant and we had to just go back and order takeout. It started with a simple comment of "Maybe we'd be eating actual Italian food and not fucking dominos if someone had remembered to book the restaurant," and spiraled into an extremely heated and quick argument that I can't remember half of. It was just spitting words in each other's faces, not meaning any of them, a crappy movie playing in the back. At one point, Alex came home and attempted to solve things with reason. Of course, such things aren't welcome during stupid fights and he quickly made himself busy with 'editing' in his bedroom.

By the time I'd stumbled in my apartment door, giving a half assed explanation to my very stoned roommate, the idea it was over cemented itself in my head. This time, I'd told myself, biting my lip till it bled, this time I'm not going back.

Easier said than done considering we're in the same friend group and have to consistently film together.

James: Hey y/n, Will wanted me to ask you to come over to his today to film if you're free

Y/n: Yeah I'm free. What's he need me for?

James: Probably a reddit video knowing him though the fact he asked all of us over is a bit suspicious, not to mention he made me text you instead of doing it himself

Y/n: What do you mean he asked everyone over?

James: Haven't you seen the groupchat? Alex, George and Mia said he asked them too. Knowing Will he'll need us for two minutes and then abandon us to edit or something

Y/n: Oh how lovely :)

And now I was here, sitting on Wills couch in between a very scared looking Alex and my ex of two days, listening to Will explain his video idea in great detail. I wish I could lie and say I was listening ever so carefully and definitely not hyper focusing on how George's fingers kept brushing against me accidentally as he moved to drink, wasn't taking notice of ever slight movement of his leg, inching ever so closer to mine. Every so often I'd dare flicker my eyes to his, always at the exact moment he happened to be looking my way. I'd just stick with Mia I told myself, hand curling into a tight fist and gulping, Mia would understand.

"Right so I'm going to film quickly with Mia first because she has to mind her nephew later, can't be late. Shouldn't be too long though so no one get any ideas and leave," Will announced, stating a wiggly Alex down at the last part. Mia stood up, saying she was fine with that. I gave her a pleading look, begging her to stay, to make an excuse and make someone, anyone else, go first. She only gave me a guilty smile back, following Will up the stairs, patting the watch on her wrist. Of course Will chose to film the one day Mia wasn't free for the day.

As soon as they were gone, Alex and James shared a look and quickly excused themselves to the kitchen, Alex nearly tripping over himself as he scurried away. Great friends I have.

For a moment, an awkward silence filled the air, heavier than any scientist thought possible. I gulped and tried to subtly move to where Alex had been sat before but only managed to make a disgustingly loud noise as the leather squelched under me. Curse the summer heat and it's strange sweat noises.

George looked at me properly for the first time, stupidly perfect blue eyes settling carefully on mine. "You look nice."

I squirmed. "Thanks. New skirt."

"Yeah I know, I bought it for you last week." Ouch. I physically cringed and heard George sigh beside me. "Can we talk?"

Crap, the true signal the cycle wasn't over yet. There was always the beginning, crazy and wild and perfect, the pinnacle of a young couple in love in the city. Then came the coziness, nights out turning into nights in and bars turning into movie nights. After that came the fizzle down period, usually lasting for about two weeks before one of us snapped and said it was over. A week later, someone would say can we talk then two minutes later it was back to heavy making out and laughter as the cycle begun again.

Of course this time would be no different, what was two days ago me thinking? This thing with me and George had been going on for nearly three years now, pissing off friends and fans alike with our mysterious relationship status. Still, it suited us pretty well huh?

So, I let out a breathe and nodded, curling my legs under me as I turned to face him.

"Okay fine," I agreed, resting my hand on the couch just near enough his for him to notice. "But only if we take it seriously this time."

He nodded, smiling softly for the first time I'd seen that day, lips turning up at the end and my stomach went all dopey, any hesitation melting away. He'd always have that effect on me it seemed.

"I'm sorry for forgetting about our date, I've just been pretty stressed lately with my upload schedule and stuff and it slipped my mind. It won't happen again." Of course it won't. Every-time we broke up, we never repeated the mistake again. Maybe one day, we'd run out of mistakes to make and things would be the perfect couple we wanted to be.

"And I promise I'll be more reasonable next time something upsets me. We should have mature conversations about stuff like this, like normal couples do." And I would if it meant never feeling that strange tightness that had filled me the past two days without him. One day, we'd get it right, I was sure.

"So does that me-" I cut him off with a quick peck to the lips, laughing when his eyes widened.

"Will you be my boyfriend George?" He didn't reply and only repeated my peck, my hands coming to rest in his hair as I deepened it to something more. "Do you think we'll actually make it to the end?" I asked between kisses, mumbling dangerously close to his lips, having swung my legs over his already.

"Jesus Y/n we haven't even been dating for two minutes yet, might be regretting my decision already." I chuckled, knowing that was his off handed way of saying 'yes of course'. I leaned back in, feeling his hands pull my waist closer before we heard an extremely loud sigh.

"Right next time you break up, wait until I put on something cheap yeah?" Alex groaned, turning back around and walking straight back into the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea again.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing, leaning my for head against George's and relishing in the warmth that came with the contact.

"You know there's a new club open near here. We could go later?" His hands somehow found themselves intertwined with me. It was the same thing over and over again, the same old cycle.

I smiled. "My roommates gone for the night, you can stay at mine after."

It was the same cycle over and over and I lived for it, every part of it. One day, we'll get it right and maybe most of the excitement comes from wondering it this is the time we do everything perfectly. A spark in his eyes reminds me I won't care anyways.

I'm addicted to the cycle as long as it's with him.

[burnedbyshoto]

Weak

anonymous asked: can we get a bakugou fluff based on the song hug all ur friends by cavetwon

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warning: bakugou has high anxiety, cussing, fluff

word count: 4,000

a/n: so I listened to the 1 hour loop to this song when writing it LMAO, I think its one of my better pieces ive written, but I guess that’s also for you to decide!!!!!! enjoy!!!!

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Bakugou Katsuki was someone who had no guilt in admitting that he cared about himself first and foremost. Bakugou Katsuki never imagined a day would come where he would find himself interested in someone-- especially in a romantic setting.

Romance and Bakugou, to him it seemed like mixing oil and water. Impractical and impossible.

Bakugou was hard, rough, and explosive.

Romance was soft, tender, and weakening.

So for the life of him, Bakugou could not understand why on god you were consuming his thoughts. Why did you have him wrapped around your fingers despite you only being his best friend? What the hell was wrong with him?!

Bakugou stared at you from the distance, his eyes were warm, his face soft, and the book in his hands long forgotten.

You were a force, this overwhelming energy that he could not figure out.

You weren’t like Kirishima who gained his friendship through mutual respect and trust in each other’s strengths. You weren’t like Sero or Mina who he came to see as friends after he used them for their quirks two years ago. You weren’t like Kaminari who he saw as a friend because Kirishima came as this unknown package deal.

You were soft, tender, and in no way were you weak, but Bakugou couldn’t think of any other word to describe you but weak.

It made no sense as to how you two became friends. The two of you had spoken once! Then you landed a punch on his jaw so strong that he needed to go to Recovery Girl and you cried for hours afterward. Bakugou thought it was dumb that you were apologizing so he yelled at you for being stupid. Seconds later you two were friends.

“Bakasuki, it’s way past your bedtime!” You screamed as you looked up from your phone. Your eyes red with tiredness and irritation still shone as you made eye contact. The impressed grin on your face as strong as if it was midday. “It’s midnight?!”

Bakugou felt his face cement over again. It was an involuntary action as you rambled off about how the big softie Bakugou Katsuki was awake at 'crackhead' hours. As you got up and walked over to Bakugou, he felt his hardened features melt as you took a stance in front of him.

“I bet you’re staying up because of me, come on, admit that you like me.”

Your words are teasing of course, yet Bakugou’s heart clenches at the truth of your words. Bakugou one year ago had begun staying awake past nine because of you. You were always active at night! You told new stories that Bakugou wanted to hear at a late hour, and Bakugou soon found himself staying up.

Ten at night turned to eleven, eleven became twelve, and then Bakugou was up until two in the morning because of you. He never complained about it, and he never dared to tell you or anyone about it. Bakugou took every teasing you gave, and you teased him about him staying up every night even if it was a year later.

“Trust me, if I was staying up because of you I would fucking hate myself,” Bakugou lies as you laugh. “Don’t think you’re fucking special because I tolerate you.”

His words were harsh to the average ear, but to the trained ear, to your ear, it was as if he nudged you playfully.

“Sure you old grump,” you wink as you stick out your hand. “Iida said it’s my turn with the Disney+, wanna go watch with me?” 

“As long as you don’t make me watch something fucking horrible,” Bakugou grunts as he takes your hand.

He would watch the sappiest of movies and the weirdest of shows if it meant that you’d snuggle into his side. His favorite memories have you at his left. These memories also included you between his legs as you laughed hysterically at the horrible and childish jokes. It also didn’t matter how many times you watched the same movie, you always ramble as if it was your first time viewing it.

“I’m thinking Lilo and Stitch,” you let him into your thoughts as you begin walking towards the staircase. His hand is still locked with yours. “I think I can be Lilo, and you can be Stitch! You two have very similar personalities!”

“Like hell I’m anything like that fucking animal!”

“I didn’t even need to goad you into a reaction!”

“Shut up dumbass…”

“If I ever stopped talking to you, you would go insane! So careful what you wish for!”

“I wish you would shut up…”

Bakugou watched as your lips pressed flat together. A faux annoyed expression on your face and you dropped his hand.

It may have embarrassed Bakugou to admit what he did next, but it took him five seconds to crack under your cold shoulder. He threw you over his shoulder as he walked to your room. Your squealing exclamations were loud as he held your lower thigh.

“See I told you--”

“Shut the fuck up, shitty woman!”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your loud groan rang in Bakugou’s ears and his eyebrow twitched as he once again looked at your slumped figure. It was the second to last set of finals you guys would be taking as hero students. Three years later, you were nearing the final countdown to graduation! But that meant finals.

Bakugou had managed to stay within the top three of his class all three years. So he felt decent in where he was in class ranking right now. He has ranked third right now after all, but you ranked fifteenth. A feat that he had zero idea about how it came to be considering how smart you were. You had a sharp mind, a witty sense of humor, and a deadly tongue! Yet you were barely outperforming the rest of his idiot friends. You were one of the few people who could beat him in a verbal challenge! But when it came to pencil and paper tests, you stumbled hard.

“Would you stop fucking groaning?! You’re not getting anything done except getting on my goddamn nerves!”

“WELL!” You immediately yelled back, your nose stuck to the sky as you tossed your pencil away. “I don’t know actually! I screamed well because I live for the dramatics!" Bakugou groaned as you laugh. "Okay, but this all makes sense to me now! It's... I’ve realized I become an idiot whenever I try doing it on the exams.”

“It’s because you are an idiot.”

“Wow, thanks,” you complain as you slam your forehead against your math textbook. You shot back up gasping loudly. “OH SHIT! Bakugou you solved all my problems! This entire time I’ve been an idiot! I’ll tell Deku to give me some smart people juice tomorrow morning, obviously, I’ve been sipping the idiot juice.”

“Hah? Fucking hell -- do you ever shut up and wait for me to finish what I’m saying?!”

“Bakasuki, there was a period at the end of that sentence! Or let me guess what you’d say next!”

“Don’t fucking guess--”

“‘Oi, shitty woman, I’m Baku-hoe Kat-sucky, and you better get your head outta your asshole! Maybe if you weren’t always on your goddamn phone you wouldn’t be failing’!” Your voice had lowered multiple octaves to the point where you sounded like you smoked every day. Bakugou watched as your face contorted into a mock scowl, your nose stuck into the air as your arms folded across your chest. “‘I’m the alpha nerd here, so you have to fucking listen to me, you damn fucking nerd ass shitty woman!’”

Bakugou remained silent as you erupted in giggles, your eyes beaming with joy as you looked at him.

“I don’t fucking cuss, shitty woman,” Bakugou retorted. He knew it was a lie but the way your eyes expanded four times their size and how you pressed your face into his shoulder was worth the lie.

“You don’t cuss?! Wow, suddenly my name isn’t y/n!”

“Hm, well I was going to point out that you probably have some form of testing anxiety, but since you’re Miss. Fucking-Know-It-All…”

“There’s no way I’m eighteen and don’t know that about me!”

“Well, you didn’t fucking know you loved chocolate caramels until this last month either.”

This launched you into another tangent. Your conversation skills always gave Bakugou whiplash! You talked about everything you could and right now it was about what you loved. It should have annoyed Bakugou, he knew that! But while you rambled about how you loved seeing oversized dogs in bags, he realized that he loved knowing more about you.

How he would kill for the chance to pull you close, he knew that if he did you would hug him without a blink of an eye. Bakugou knew if he attempted to feel your warmth you’d overwhelm him forever and he wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted. Did he want you? Did he actually love you or was it just the chemistry in his brain is dumb. He wasn’t sure what he wanted as you showcased your favorite pencil.

“Do you have something you love, ‘suki?”

You.

“No, I don’t fucking love anything. The hell is love good for?”

“Don’t you worry about what people think about you when you can’t answer a question on something you love?”

The only opinion he cares about is yours.

“They don’t need to fucking care about what I love, how the hell does that make me a reliable pro hero?! Gossip and tabloids and interviews are bullshit. How is me smiling and being nice in front of a camera going to prove anything?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened as you wrapped your arms around him drawing him into a tight embrace. His eyes blinked rapidly as he felt frozen. His hands are frozen at his side as you pressed into him. You were making him dizzy. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he feared you could hear it as you pressed your lips to his ear.

“Sometimes you just have to hug people, let them know that you’re not letting go. Being kind and offering a hand, even if it kills your feral vibes, gives them a reason to love you and trust them. Trust is important, you know that, dummy. Hugging them is a small promise of not letting go.”

His breathing stilled as you pulled away. Your hair fell in your face and you sucked everything out of him as you smiled softly. But who would Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t have something back to say?

“I’m not fucking hugging any of those damn extras out there!”

“It was a FIGURE OF SPEECH, BAKAGOU!”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Rise and shine, grumpy old man!” Your voice rang as bright sunshine shone through Bakugou’s room.

“Fucking hell, y/n! Shut my goddamn shutters!”

“It is past noon, and I am here to make sure you are in fact alive!”

“Shitty woman, please close the damn shutters… I got in three hours ago and I want to fucking sleep in.”

The shutters closed immediately and guilt hung heavy in your voice as you said, “Wait you got in at nine?! You got called out of class early, too!”

Bakugou who had been sitting up now, glowering at your form fell back onto his mattress without a word. Unfortunately, it seemed that you weren’t quite done with him.

“Why the hell are you still in my room?”

“...can I nap with you?”

“Hah?”

“I was out from five in the morning until a few minutes ago! I just… want to cuddle, but if you don’t want to that’s totally cool!”

“You’re so goddamn annoying,” he nearly growls. It wasn’t necessarily directed at you, but instead himself. He was going to let you obviously, but how much longer could he do this uncaring act? How he hadn’t just slammed your oblivious ass against a door to kiss the soul out of you was beyond him. “Get in.”

A loud squeal emitted from your throat as Bakugou felt your figure snuggling into his chest. Your body was cold against his, and he resisted the urge to shiver as you wrapped his arm around you.

“I never fucking said you were allowed to cuddle.”

“Oh please, you were going to latch onto me at some point, might as well do it now instead of waking up to it and freaking out.”

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Shh, I’m trying to nap.”

Bakugou snorted but nonetheless brought you in closer as he too closed his eyes. He ended up falling asleep with you in his arms. It wasn’t until he woke up did he realize that today was to be your friend's date. Something you had been persistent in having. But as you too woke up at half-past seven p.m., the both of you agreed that the nap was way better than going out.

That is until Kaminari sent a picture of Bakugou and you cuddling to the group chat. But then again, Bakugou may or may not have saved it as his home screen.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

4:48 a.m.

Bakugou’s eyes focused on the neon red numbers that illuminated across his bed. His alarm was positioned as such so he would be forced to get up to turn it off in the morning.

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears as everything turned blurry.

4:49 a.m.

His eyes closed and he was suddenly back in Kamino two years ago.

His body felt dirty, sticky, unclean.

His mouth tainted with the taste of copper. His teeth gritting together as he saw All Might fighting in front of him.

It was hard to fight with his sweat-soaked and stiff clothes. All he knew was those bastards turned from wanting to convert him to wanting him dead. He remembers stumbling and seeing your frantic eyes in the corner of his vision. He didn't know you well back then, so it confused him, at least before a yell from Kirishima took his attention away.

It was the first actual memory he had of you, and yet it intertwined with his memory of All Might’s downfall. A downfall that could have been prevented if he had just been fucking better. If he had been a better hero maybe he wouldn’t have been caught. If he had been a better person maybe he would never have been targeted in the first place. It didn’t matter how many different ways he ran through his memories, it always ended up being his fault.

The fight with Deku had helped relieve the surface tension. All Might saying it wasn’t his fault barely made an impact on the guilt demon that ate away at his inner thoughts.

Simply told, tonight was a bad night. Nothing he did could drive away the guilt demon.

You were the one who made him strong but you were out on a mission for your hero work. You were being a hero to people who needed you, yet Bakugou wanted you to be his hero right now…

His anxiety crawled down his spine. His mind swimming back to the image of All Might's defeated form, and it kept reeling in his mind. His palms sweated profusely, but at this point, he had no idea if it was from his anxiety or from his quirk.

It burned to breathe and he wanted to go for a run, but he knew he shouldn’t. So he stood up out of bed choosing to walk down to the kitchen.

4:57 a.m., the clock read as the door shut behind him.

He felt dizzy as he walked down the hallway, his heart racing as he went down the staircase.

The lights were on and it made his eyes hurt as he opened the door for the ground floor.

“‘Suki?” A tired voice whispered as Bakugou stared up.

It was you.

Your uniform looked rumpled and dirty. Your tie wasn’t done and your hair was a mess as you yawn, your hand rubbing your eye as you waved at him. Bakugou saw the bandage on your neck and cheek and he pointed at them.

“Some dumbass with a--” you stifle a yawn as you shake your head. “Fucking vampire quirk! If he bit you, and consumed your blood, you would be entranced with him! Can you believe that!”

Bakugou snorted as you showed him the bruised mark on your neck.

“Thing is, he doesn’t have fangs, his teeth were super dull, so now I look like I had sex!”

“Can’t have people thinking that huh?”

“Nah... now, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

Bakugou knew better than to lie to you, but he couldn’t help it, you needed to sleep.

“Nothing, I needed water.”

“I’m sure you are,” you nod your head as you adjust your backpack. “But that doesn’t explain why there’s tears in your eyes and on your cheeks.”

His eyes widened as he felt the wet stains on his face, he was indeed crying.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” he grumbled as his hands shoved into his sweats.

“That’s okay,” you smile as you take a few steps forward. “Can I give you a hug?”

It takes everything in him not to scream at you to hug him, so instead, he turns his head and nods curtly. Your arms are wrapped around him immediately as he feels himself shrinking into your hold. You were safe, you were warm, and you made him weak.

It was at that moment that Bakugou Katsuki noticed that he completely and utterly was in love with you.

As he went through these thoughts you grabbed his hand and led him upstairs, “I’ll get you your water, but you need to rest.”

“Shitty woman, I can take care of myself,” Bakugou breathed as he didn’t resist you taking him to his room. “Besides we have class tomorrow, you need more sleep than I do.”

He watches as you shrug as you open his room door.

“Maybe so, but I’m a Hero and you’re someone in need of a savior!” you chirped as your lips pressed softly onto his cheek as you sat him in bed. “I’ll be right back, lay down please!”

He nodded dumbly as you left, his cheeks burning as the door closed.

It felt like no time had passed as you soon returned with a cup of water, “Now drink! Crying is good for the soul, but it dehydrates you so much.”

“Tch, idiot, don’t say that like you cry all the time,” Bakugou grumbles as he chugs the water down.

Your fingers take the glass from him and place it onto the desk, your shoulders bouncing as you sigh one last time. “Well, I should go to bed, I may not need beauty sleep, but even three hours of sleep can make me ugly.”

“Sleep here,” Bakugou found himself mumbling as you were by the door. “You can take a shirt, I just… please, just fucking sleep here with me?”

Bakugou expected teasing, he expected you to laugh it off and say he was dumb and crazy. What he didn’t expect was for you to grab his skull t-shirt and strip your clothes off in his bathroom.

He stilled as you crawled into bed with him, your body curling into his as you held him near.

“Goodnight, ‘suki,” you whispered.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, a sharp intake of air went through your nose.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome…”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You smile while wiping away tears that formed in your eyes.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down your face as you taped up the last box with writing that read: Y/N PICTURES.

It was moving out day, you had done it, you graduated.

“Y/l/n-chan!! Stop crying and c-come take a p-p-picture with us!” Mina wailed as she too was crying uncontrollably.

The common room was fill of every one of your classmates, tears were in everyone's eyes as boxes scattered near the entrance. It was over. Three years of heaven and hell were gone and even though everyone would still be seeing everyone again (you all were working in the same general areas after all), tears wouldn’t stop.

Multiple times you brushed away tears as twenty-one of you stood for class pictures.

Class pictures became friend group pictures, friend group pictures became trios and duo pictures.

Everyone was crying and everyone was laughing too. It was as if you were never going to see anyone again and the tears wouldn’t stop.

I love you’s were exchanged, promises of not forgetting who each other were as you would all become stars, and plans on monthly meetups because you were family. It was too much, it was too sentimental, and you were ready to leave.

“I hate to do this to you all, but it’s time to go,” Aizawa lulled over the roar of your classes chatter.

For the first time, his words were useless as you all took a photo with him, much to your homeroom teachers' secret enjoyment.

But now it was time to go.

You gave a one-armed hug to Mineta as he bounded out of the door. He had somewhat had drunk respect-women juice and was now tolerable. But the nightmares forever remained.

Then Koda, Aoyama, Shoji, Ojiro, Tokoyami, and Sato were done swiftly yet deeply. They all said kind words and promises to keep in touch as they left.

Then it was Iida, Todoroki, and Midoriya. The group of boys embraced you tightly as Iida told you and Midoriya to stop crying. It only strengthening your tears as Todoroki patted your back softly.

Then it was Mina, Momo, Jirou, Tsu, Uraraka, and Hagakure. The girl group and the reason why this class felt like family so quickly made you cry harder as you all lost it. Hugs were tight, hugs lasted minutes long as you all shouted over each other. This was not goodbye, just a see you later.

Sero, Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, and Jirou once again met you for a tight embrace. The dubbed Bakusquad because Bakugou was the loudest one in the group, but you all knew that if the group never held Kirishima it would never work. Bakusquad was truly Kirisquad and you excitedly talked about how you were all going to karaoke on Sunday.

A gentle cough broke you from Sero’s embrace and you turned to the last person who you hadn’t hugged yet.

Bakugou didn’t look at you as he sighed, his shoulder slumping as he looked at you. Your lips quirked as your heart raced at his red-tinged eyes, he had cried too.

“We’ll see you guys later!” Kaminari yelled as the boxes in the now empty common room belonged to you.

“We’re still on for tonight?” Bakugou asked as his finger brushed the wet trails that stained your cheeks.

“Have I ever ditched you or stood you up?”

“You could have made plans in your crying hysteria, it’s been done before.”

His words are teasing and you laugh as you launch yourself into his arms. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest around your waist.

“I don’t know why you weren’t interested in having a spa day with the girls!” You teased as you bit your lower lip.

“Too much gossip about dicks,” Bakugou rolled his eyes as he squeezed you tightly.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t go, I wouldn’t have wanted you to see me talking about my dick of a boyfriend,” you whisper as his eyes shine brilliantly.

“Hah? You’re really gonna fucking--”

Bakugou never got to finish that sentence as your lips pressed against his and his mind went weak as he kissed you back.

You were the undoing of Bakugou Katsuki.

You made him weak, yet he’s never felt stronger.

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact (5)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: explicit sex, cursing, unprotected sex, dirty talk, some secondhand embarrassment

word count: 6.8k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: hi loves! thank you as always for your kind and supportive messages regarding the last part! if you didn’t see my post, you can now track the tag #thepactfic in order to keep up with updates and future parts. that being said, i’ve officially decided the story will be a total of 6 parts. one more full part after this! please let me know how you’re liking it and if you have any thoughts, feelings, questions etc don’t be afraid to shoot me a message  ❤️

↳ index here

“I gotta be honest,” Jaebeom said, fingers tapping against the cafe table. “I was surprised to hear from you.” 

“Yeah,” you began, folding your hands on your lap and offering him a kind smile. “I- well, I wanted to apologize for leaving you hanging that night at the club…”

Even though he’d done it to you plenty of times. Texted you, asking what you were up to, until inevitably, he stopped responding a few messages in. Danced with you when you came to one of his DJing gigs only to leave with someone else. Even today, he’d shown up ten minutes late. It was about time somebody did the same to him. Still, you couldn’t help your conscience. 

Jaebeom shrugged. “That’s alright. Although I’m starting to think you’ve been avoiding me.” There was a playfulness to his tone, but you had a feeling it had been a shot to his pride. He wasn’t used to girls standing him up. 

“Maybe… a little. That’s actually why I wanted to meet you today.” 

It had been Sana’s idea, which surprised you both. She’d come home from trivia half an hour later than you the other night, knocking softly on the door to check if you were still awake. 

After a long talk, you finally admitted your feelings for Jinyoung to someone other than yourself. She didn’t reassure you that he felt the same way, because you both knew he probably didn’t. If Jinyoung said he was going to do something, he did it. 

You had no reason to think you were anything more than a friend to him now, with some added bonuses. 

She did say, however, that you needed to talk to Jaebeom. As much as she hated the way he treated you, you needed closure in order to completely close that chapter. You agreed, and here you were. 

You’d picked a very public place during your lunch break from work, just so that you didn’t feel tempted to fall into his trap again. The weird thing was, as he sat in front of you, something had changed. Your feelings for him lingered like an aftertaste, nowhere near as powerful as they had been even a month ago. 

It didn’t compare to the real thing, you realized. 

“I’m sure you know this,” you began, staring down at your fingernails, “but I’ve liked you for a long time. Like, a really long time. Since we were fourteen.”

“I know.” Jaebeom’s words made you finally look up, locking eyes with him. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, Y/N, but subtle is not one of them.” He smiled at you in the way that would’ve normally had your stomach fluttering. “That’s why I was so confused when you started blowing me off.”

“Yeah. I guess I just, I was tired of waiting for you to like me back. Because you never did, right? At least not the way I liked you. So I decided that it was time for me to move on, finally, and now…” you took a deep breath, feeling like you were talking more to yourself than to Jaebeom, “now I think I found someone that I really like. It feels different.” 

You paused to take in Jaebeom’s expression. He wasn’t hurt, but he seemed confused. He had every right to be. He probably thought you were a little bit crazy for sharing all of this, but you needed to get it off of your chest.

“I did like you, Y/N.” 

“You what?” you asked, blinking at him. “When?”

First Jinyoung, now this? You didn’t know how many more confessions you could take. 

Jaebeom shrugged, sipping from his espresso. “In high school. I mean, surely you could tell? I was always asking to borrow a pencil in math class… I figured you didn’t think I was that forgetful.” 

You remembered being tortured in that Calculus class. His seat was diagonally in front of you, allowing you the perfect view to his flawless profile for forty minutes every single day. Whenever he asked you for a pencil, you had to count to ten to stop thinking about his fingers brushing against yours. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know.” 

“Well,” he said, his lips quirking up. “It’s true. But I liked a lot of girls—it was high school. I was going to ask you out after graduation, before you and Jinyoung went off to university. But Jinyoung flipped on me, telling me not to mess around with you, and not to ask you out unless I wanted it to last forever. Scared the shit out of me. So I backed off.” 

Suddenly your throat was bone dry, and the coffee wasn’t helping. It was a lot to digest, finding that Jaebeom had returned your feelings after all, if only for a few years. You and probably a dozen other girls. Still, you’d never thought you had a chance, especially not back then.

“Did Jinyoung ever talk about me?” you found yourself asking. It wouldn’t do you any good to find out just how deep his feelings for you ran, considering they were probably long gone, but the masochist in you wanted to know. For some reason, you cared more about that than Jaebeom’s former crush. 

Jaebeom barked out a laugh. “Did he? Fuck, he barely ever stopped. He had a thing for you, you know? I mean, he never told me outright, but I could tell. It pissed him off whenever he’d catch me staring down your shirt at lunch and he’d give me the cold shoulder for the next day and a half.”

How oblivious had you been in high school? You’d always been so busy reading and studying, maybe if you’d lifted your nose out of those books you would have noticed. You spent more time with Jinyoung than Jaebeom, but both boys were a part of your daily life. It had all been right under your nose. 

“Is it him?” Jaebeom asked after a moment of your silence. “The guy you like? I saw you leave with him that night, kinda figured maybe he’d finally grown some balls and gone for it with you.” 

“Y-yeah, actually.” You rubbed the back of your neck. That hollowness of your missed opportunity was still heavy in your chest. You missed him so much it hurt. 

Jaebeom nodded, tongue running over his teeth. “Well, good for him. It’s about time.” He didn’t seem jealous or bothered by the idea of you with Jinyoung, which just cemented what you already knew—his feelings were never as intense as yours. 

And whatever he had going on with that girl, the one from his bathroom mirror selfies, you just felt bad for her now. You weren’t jealous, you felt pity. Pity because she was probably a lot like you, expecting more from Jaebeom than he was ready to give. 

There was an unspoken tension between the two of you now, but you felt different… like you’d finally cut off that loose end that had been hanging around you for years. You looked at Jaebeom in front of you, the person you’d convinced yourself you were in love with, and all you could think about was Jinyoung. 

Jinyoung wouldn’t have been late. He would’ve been early, sat in a corner booth with coffee and your favorite blueberry muffin waiting. Maybe he would have teased you for making him wait, but he’d still let you have your muffin with a little convincing. 

You missed him so much. 

But you knew if you were going to get over Jinyoung, you at least needed to be finished with Jaebeom first. It was almost comical the way your timing always seemed to be wrong. Why couldn’t your heart just be on time for once?

“I should go,” you said finally, standing up. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“No problem.” Jaebeom stood as well, digging in his pocket for cash to leave a tip on the table. “And Y/N?”

You raised your brows. “Yeah?”

“Tell Jinyoungie I said hi, and if he wants to catch up…” Jaebeom ran his fingers through his hair, one of his nervous habits. 

You smiled. “I will. I’ll see you around, okay? Take care of yourself, Jaebeom.” 

Jaebeom, despite everything, was not a bad man. Deep down, he was good, which was what had always made it so hard for you to leave him behind. You’d always think of the time he walked you home from school when your mom got stuck late at work, the summer he worked at the animal rescue shelter, the way he used to snort when he laughed at Jinyoung’s jokes, and a million more fragments of his soul he’d let you see over the years. 

But at the end of the day, he wasn’t the one for you. You’d spent so many years making excuses, covering your eyes when he showed you the parts that didn’t fit with your idea of him, but you were ready to see him as he was now. You hoped someday he would find happiness, love, and satisfaction. It just wouldn’t be with you. 

As you walked out of the cafe and the door clicked behind you, you felt that door in your heart finally slide closed. And it felt good. 

~~~

Three long days later, and Jinyoung was finally home. 

It killed you that you couldn’t see him right away. Right after he got home on Wednesday night, he’d passed out from jet lag and you’d had to work late the next night. His body was still adjusting and he’d gone to bed right about the same time you got home.

Your schedules lined up, at last, by Friday evening. Jinyoung had the rest of the week off after working through the weekend, but his sleep schedule was so backwards that he ended up sleeping through most of your waking hours. He was mostly adjusted by Friday, though, and you rushed over straight after work without even stopping for dinner. 

You’d decided that you needed to end it with Jinyoung. There had been rules, after all, to this pact you’d made. You’d broken one already, and in doing so, you’d broken another—honesty. But you knew you needed to see him one last time. Just for closure. Then you could move on. 

Jinyoung didn’t suspect anything, as far as you knew. You’d held up your promise to send him a picture every day, with varying degrees of naughtiness, and even FaceTimed a few times. The time difference made it difficult but… you’d managed. 

It was nothing compared to how he looked in the flesh, though. When he opened the door, you felt those damn butterflies wake up, low in your stomach. 

He didn’t look as tired as you thought he would. In fact, he looked pretty damn awake to you. 

You barely got inside before he was pushing you against the closed door, crowding you into the barrier with his own body. With his lips pressing into yours, he effectively had you trapped. 

But you didn’t mind. You’d missed this so much it only took you a split second before you wrapped your arms around him, relishing in the heat that came from his body. 

As soon as he parted from your lips, he trailed kisses down your neck to the collar of your work button-up. “Hi,” you breathed, digging your hands into his shoulder blades where you held him. 

“Hi,” he said into your skin, fingers already working at the buttons of your shirt. 

“How was your-“ your words were cut off by a groan as Jinyoung sucked at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

Jinyoung's response was a frustrated grunt as he fumbled with the plastic holding your shirt together, and all you could do was gasp when he tore the shirt open, buttons clinking to the floor. 

You stared at him with wide eyes, mouth gaping open. 

“I’ll buy you another one.” 

Without another word, he dove back in to your neck, lips nibbling and sucking at your flesh. You completely forgot about your ruined shirt when he began grinding his hips into yours, his hardness already pressing into your thigh. 

“Missed you… so much…” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and inhaling the scent of crisp summer fruit. “You smell so good. Is this shampoo new?”

“Stole some from the hotel,” he replied, punctuated by a bite to your neck that made you shiver. 

“All that…” You slid your hand down his body, fingertips brushing over his belt buckle until you were able to cup your hand over the obvious bulge in his pants, “hard work packing… and you still stole hotel toiletries.”

Jinyoung made a noise deep in his throat, almost a growl as you began massaging your palm against him, his face still buried in your neck. “Don’t tease. I’ve been hard since you said you were coming over.” 

You smirked, running your tongue over your lips. “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment you left, Jinyoung. Trust me, I’m not teasing.” 

Finally, Jinyoung pulled back enough to crush your lips together in a heated, messy kiss. You had missed his taste, the warmth of his mouth colliding with yours, the way he ran his tongue over your lip before he nipped it. 

Your hands quickly undid his belt and zipper, freeing him from his jeans just enough for you to wrap your hand around his member over the fabric of his briefs. He was hard as ever, pulsing slightly in your grip. 

As Jinyoung licked into your mouth, you began a slow pace massaging his cock, fingers following the outline pressed into your hand. You’d barely traced the length of him five times before he was moaning and rutting his hips into your hand. 

“Fuck,” he said, pulling back from your lips but keeping his forehead pressed into yours. 

You squeezed his length once, then twice, and felt Jinyoung’s cock pulse, even through the barrier of cotton. A feeling you usually only felt when he was inside of you. 

“Shit, no, no-“

Jinyoung inhaled sharply, fist coming up to slam into the wall next to your shoulder, trying to pull his hips from the contact of your hand. You barely realized what was happening until you looked at him to find his eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack as an orgasm wracked through him. 

You gulped, your hand slowly falling away once you were sure he’d come down from his high. Though when he opened his eyes, they were filled with regret and shame. 

“God, I’m sorry, I-“ he started, looking down at his crotch, then up at you. “I can’t believe I just…”

“You just came in your pants.”

It took just about everything in you to keep your face straight. He’d never come that fast, at least not with you. Jinyoung dropped his head onto your shoulder with a breathy laugh. 

“I’m so sorry.”

You bit back a giggle, sliding your arms around his waist, fingers sliding up the back of his black tee. “Jinyoung, it’s fine. We have all night, you know.” 

“Let me make it up to you,” he said, deep and low near your ear before he pulled away. His face was flushed from his orgasm, all the way to the tips of his ears. Just from the look in his eyes, you knew he had a plan. 

“Okay… what did you have in mind?” 

Instead of granting you an answer, he slid his hands up the curves of your waist, fingers dragging over the lace of your bra. He kept his eyes on you as he pushed your shirt off of your shoulders, just a useless scrap of fabric now that he’d ripped the buttons off. 

Then he dropped to his knees, fingertips trailing down your skin until they played with the waistband of your pants. You hoped he wouldn’t rip these—they’d been rather expensive. 

He took care with the button and zipper, seemingly reading your mind, then tugged the pants down your thighs to pool at your ankles. He removed one shoe, then the other, so that he could allow you to step out of your bottoms. This left you in just your panties and bra, which of course he’d seen you in before, dozens of times, but he was looking at you like you were brand new to him. 

“Open,” he told you, scooting close until his face was level with your hips. You obeyed easily, earning you a cocky smirk. “Good girl.” 

Your head fell back against the door as you stared down at Jinyoung. He’d gone from bashful and embarrassed to this, heating you from the inside out, all with just his gaze. 

As always, he didn’t give you what you wanted straight away. He brushed his lips over the sensitive skin of your stomach, kissing every curve and line, even those spots you hated to see in the mirror. He’d made you forget all about that, only focused on feeling. 

You shivered as his breath fanned over your skin and goosebumps rose on your arms. His lips traveled down to your thighs, skipping over your center because of course, he needed to keep you on your toes. 

“Jinyoung…” you whined, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Please.”

He looked up, mouth still pressing into your inner thigh, and he smiled. He loved to have you like this, and you couldn’t deny your favorite place to be was wrapped around his finger. 

“Hm.. please what?” he challenged, now teasing the waistband of your panties with his fingers. “What do you want me to do?”

You huffed out a breath. “Jinyoung,“ you complained, “eat me out before I go insane.” 

Jinyoung made you wait only a few more torturous moments before he slid the lacy garment down your thighs to your knees, eyes glued to your center as soon as it was revealed to him. He had the nerve to lick his lips. 

“Pretty,” he muttered, placing his thumbs on either side of your folds to open you up for him. He leaned in, hot breath against your clit just before he latched on.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t touched yourself since he’d been gone—hell, he’d been the one to bring you to orgasm twice thanks to FaceTime—but it wasn’t even in the same league as Jinyoung’s mouth on you. 

One second, you felt like you had all the power, the next, he had you practically melting into the door, grabbing his hair and begging for more. The harder he worked into your clit, the more you arched your hips towards him, desperate and whimpering. 

Jinyoung knew all of your spots and it turned out, he wasn’t the only one that had trouble keeping his orgasm at bay. You felt the familiar waves of heat surging through your body as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit, a quick and powerful pace that sent you barreling towards your climax. 

You cried out as you came. Core clenching around nothing, you jerked your hips into his face, completely overwhelmed with bliss. Jinyoung was good to you, licking and sucking until you calmed under his touch. 

Unable to hold yourself up with shaky knees, you slid down the door until you were sitting, level with Jinyoung. You let him take you into his arms, kissing the side of your face and stroking your back. 

“What are we, teenagers?” you asked once your body stopped twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Jinyoung chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you and smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “Feels like it.”

Now that you weren’t quite so consumed by lust, you were able to appreciate him up close, for the first time since his trip. He must have gotten some sun, judging by the slightly darkened tone of his skin. There were no bags under his eyes, not like you would’ve had if you flew across the world. He looked even better than the last time you’d seen him, which was almost infuriating. 

Just as you were going to scold him for being so handsome, your stomach growled, loud enough for both of you to hear. Jinyoung glanced down, then back up at you, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Hungry?” 

Your cheeks flushed pink and you nodded. “Maybe a little.” 

Jinyoung nodded back at his kitchen and shrugged. “How about takeout? I don’t really have anything in the fridge, still need to hit the store.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you answered. “But we both need new clothes first.” 

----

An hour later, you were dressed in a pair of Jinyoung’s sweatpants and one of his shirts, and he was dressed in a similarly comfortable outfit. He sat next to you on the couch, slurping on ramen. 

You’d ordered enough food for ten people, you realized, after you covered his coffee table with plates and containers that you each picked from. 

“So what you’re saying is everyone loved you,” you said, wiping at your mouth with your napkin. 

Jinyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Not necessarily. But you know, the girls especially were very interested in our company. One of the convention center employees kept fawning over me. Julie, I think her name was…”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, really? Julie?” You pressed your lips together, grumbling to yourself as you reached for the pork belly. “Stupid name.” 

Jinyoung watched you with an amused smile, setting his ramen down on the coffee table to wrap an arm around your waist. “Are you jealous?” 

You ignored him, shoveling a piece of pork into your mouth, looking anywhere but his face. He took the plate out of your hands, setting it down on the table. You whined in protest, mouth full of food. 

“You don’t have any reason to be jealous.” 

He was right--you didn’t. He wasn’t yours, you didn’t have any sort of claim on him. He could’ve taken Julie back to his hotel room if he’d wanted to, and you wouldn’t have had any good reason to be upset. 

“You’re the only one I thought about,” he said, lips brushing the side of your jaw. 

Why did he have to make it so hard, saying things like that? He thought about you, but not like that. He thought about your body, about the sex, but that was all this was. 

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him you wanted to talk about your arrangement, when he beat you to it. 

“That reminds me, actually, I have something for you.” With a quick kiss to your cheek, he stood from the couch and jogged out of the living room towards his room. 

You sighed, head falling back against the couch cushion. You needed to let this go, and you needed to do it now. You could feel yourself falling for him the more that he looked at you, touched you, kissed you. Soon you’d be in a hole you wouldn’t be able to dig yourself out of. 

When Jinyoung came back and sat next to you, he placed a book in your lap. It took you all of three seconds to recognize it, and you were glad you no longer had food in your mouth or you would have choked. 

“You didn’t!” you gasped, grabbing for the book and flipping it back and forth. “This doesn’t come out for another six months!” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “Well, they had some advanced copies lying around and I thought you’d kill me if I didn’t steal one for you.” 

“Yeah, I would have.” 

You’d talked about this book no less than twenty times in Jinyoung’s presence. It wasn’t his cup of tea, but you’d practically been counting down the days for this particular novel, a follow-up to a thriller you’d flown through as soon as it came out last year. 

“Thank you,” you told him, finally looking away from the book in your hands to Jinyoung’s face. He was watching you, corner of his lips quirked. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You stared back down at the book, running your fingers over the cover. Although he hadn’t paid a cent for this, it was one of the best surprises you’d ever received. Your fingers were itching to open it and dive in. 

“You want to start reading it now, don’t you?” 

Giving him a sheepish smile, you nodded. “Yeah.” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “You can. I’ve got plenty that I need to read, I’ll join you.” 

Half an hour later, the two of you were still on the couch, but you were laying with your head at one end and your feet on Jinyoung’s lap at the other end. He had a book resting on top of your ankles and you were already three chapters into your new book. 

You normally hated reading around people, too easily distracted just by the presence of another person, but this felt so natural. You wondered if you’d be able to go back to normal again, after you ended it. 

You’d find a way to live without the affection he’d given you. After all, it hadn’t been real. Your arrangement had served its purpose—you could finally say you were over Jaebeom, and as far as you knew, Jinyoung was over Yeri. He never talked about her, but he didn’t seem particularly torn up over her anymore. 

You wiggled your toes when Jinyoung began running his fingertips over the top of your foot to your ankle, then back again, just a mindless graze over your skin. You looked up over the top of your book, watching the way his eyes followed the words on the page he was reading, brows together in concentration. 

Someday, some other girl would be the one to see him like this, reading on the couch in the evening light while surrounded by greasy takeout. You hoped this girl would love him the way he deserved and wouldn’t take it for granted like Yeri obviously had. 

You stared back down at your book once Jinyoung caught you staring and pretended as if you’d just been spacing out, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. 

“What are you thinking?” Jinyoung asked. 

“Huh?” You looked up, shaking your head. “Nothing. Why?” 

“You look sad.” He set his book down on his lap, resting both of his hands on your shins. “What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing,” you said once more. If this was your last night with Jinyoung, you weren’t going to waste it wallowing and thinking about the end. You could pretend, just for the night, that this was real. “Just a sad part in the book.” 

“Already?” 

You nodded. “Could use a kiss.” 

Jinyoung pressed his lips together, considering it. “Huh... that’s an interesting suggestion. You think it’d make you less sad?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Ah,” he nodded, stroking the exposed skin of your ankle with his thumb, “It’s worth a try, then.” 

In an easy movement, he was shifting your legs off of his lap and crawling over you until he hovered over your body. You’d missed having his weight on you like this—you always felt so safe underneath of him. 

“I missed you,” you admitted, once his lips were only a centimeter from yours. “Not just the sex. I missed you.”

Jinyoung shifted back enough to look at your face, his eyes searching your features for something, you weren’t sure what. “Yeah? I missed you too.” 

You slid your hands up the fabric of his shirt, grazing over the warm skin of his back. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could think about was how somehow, your heart had become entirely his.

You needed to show him, just once, how you felt. 

So you tipped your head up to kiss him, as softly as you ever had. Kissed him with all the love you could muster, as scary as it was to let it pour out. 

Jinyoung was gentle with you in return, his soft, polite lips melting into yours. It was almost tragic how well your lips fit together, knowing you’d never feel it again after tonight. 

Your hands trailed up his back, pushing his tee up to his shoulders in the process. Jinyoung sat up, parting from your lips just long enough to remove his shirt. 

Then he was kissing you again, hand resting on your jaw as his tongue pushed past your lips. You moaned, savoring the taste of him, even if the kiss tasted a little bit like cheap takeout. 

“Wait, wait,” Jinyoung said against your lips as soon as you made a move to push down his sweatpants. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Wanna spread you out.”

You shivered at his words and nodded, letting him pull you up off the couch by the hand and lead you back to the bedroom. 

It was much neater than it was the last time you’d seen it. In fact, it was spotless as ever. No suitcases lying on the ground or shampoo bottles littering the bed. 

Jinyoung removed your shirt the proper way this time, then unclasped your bra a moment later to allow it to fall to the floor. Goosebumps covered your chest but the pure heat in Jinyoung’s gaze got your blood pumping faster, hotter. 

He lifted you without much warning, guiding your legs around his waist as he carried you the rest of the way into his room, falling onto the bed with you trapped underneath of him. You squeezed your legs around his waist, desperate for some contact between your thighs. 

“So… god damn beautiful,” Jinyoung whispered, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before he brushed soft kisses across your face. Your forehead, each cheek, then your nose. It crinkled in response, and you were blessed with a fond smile from Jinyoung. 

The rest of your clothes seemed to fall away, an act that had become as natural as breathing for the two of you. Jinyoung whispered words of praise as he moved down your body, hooking a leg over his shoulder. 

His tongue found your clit naturally, delving deep into your folds to taste the arousal that had gathered there. With each gasp and moan, he worked harder, wanting you needy and wet for him. 

You felt around for his hands, needing something to anchor you to earth while he sucked at your clit for the second time that night, the pressure just enough to drive you mad. 

“Oh, fuck—Jinyoung, right there. Feels so good.” Your hips rolled, matching the rhythm of the heavenly way he was licking into you. 

He moaned into your core, the vibration like a shock of electricity against your clit. Your hips jerked up towards his face and he squeezed your hands, as if telling you to let go. 

Jinyoung brought you over the edge for the second time that night, your thighs clenching around his shoulders as you repeated his name, over and over. 

Your whole body went limp afterwards, only vaguely registering Jinyoung kissing your skin, nuzzling his face into your thighs. 

“Perfect. You don’t even know how stunning you are, like you were made for me,” he spoke against your skin, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands. 

When you recovered enough to open your eyes, you tugged Jinyoung’s hands until he got the hint, crawling back up your body. His lips were on you again in an instant, tongue tasting and exploring like it was the first time. 

Just tonight, you told yourself. Just tonight. 

Jinyoung parted from you after a moment, dipping his head down to leave hot kisses across your chest. Your hands pushed into his hair, moaning out when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.

You arched your back as his tongue drew tight circles around the hardened peak, shameless moans and whimpers falling from your lips. 

“Jinyoung, please,” you begged, tugging at the locks of hair between your fingers. “Need you inside.”

Then he looked at you again in a way that made your heart clench. It was only because he was lost in the moment, nothing more. But it felt like he was looking deeper, right into the center of your heart to see the truth there. 

“Y/N…” he started, bringing a hand to the side of your face. His fingertips ran down your cheek to your chin, where he pressed the pad of his thumb into your lower lip. Something about it made you want to cry. 

So you cut off whatever he wanted to say with a kiss, a bruising pressure that you hoped let him know that this was the only place you wanted to be. Here, underneath of his body, you couldn’t imagine anything better. 

It was easy, automatic, the way he angled your knee so that he could sheathe himself inside of you. Slowly, inch by inch, you accepted him. Your walls were slick and ready for him, but it was still a stretch that you’d missed.

“Shit,” Jinyoung whispered against your lips, finally pulling back and taking a deep inhale. “You feel so perfect.” 

You groaned as he bottomed out, burying your face into his neck. You whispered his name if only because it was the only thing you could think as he started rocking his hips into yours, a deep but unbearably slow pace. But this was what you wanted; you needed it to last. Forever, if it could. 

You felt so vulnerable now, knowing that this was it. Jinyoung didn’t know that, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t keep it up. You couldn’t fall more and more in love with him every day, and only get this part of him. There would come a day where you couldn’t take it anymore, and by that point the damage might be too painful to reverse. 

It was better to end it now. But for tonight, you’d take as much as you could. 

Jinyoung began a consistent but torturous pace, the tip of his cock reaching as deep inside of you as you’d ever felt him each time he pushed inside, past the tight resistance of your walls. His free hand trailed down your body, fingertips ghosting southbound over the center of your chest. 

This was all you wanted, all you needed. 

“Please,” you found yourself pleading. Your nails traced angry marks down his back, marks you wanted to remain there forever if only so that he would think about you when this was all over. “Jinyoung…” 

“I’m right here, angel.” His lips found your ear and he kissed the sensitive spot underneath, letting you hear the breathy pants falling from his lips as he picked up the pace of his hips. His hand drifted over, only a few inches, until it was covering your heart.

“Yours,” you whispered, practically inaudible, half hoping he didn’t hear. It was his, it had been for longer than you knew. 

Something about this egged Jinyoung on, his pace growing stronger inside of you and his hips pinning you into the bed roughly. Without any warning, Jinyoung rolled the two of you over so that he was underneath of you and sat up. 

You maneuvered your legs to allow you to kneel over his lap, your thighs straddling his hips and hardly missing a beat as you began to ride him. When you stole a glance at Jinyoung’s face, you wished you could have taken a photo. 

He was completely blissed out, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. You reached for his hair, guiding his head forward so that you could look at him. You needed to see him. 

Jinyoung held your hips as you placed your hands on his chest, allowing yourself some leverage, especially when he started to buck up against you each time you slid back over him. You dug your nails into his chest and moaned out, louder and louder as he fucked into you. 

“Look at me,” you said, commanding his attention back to your face. You were met with so much lust that it made your walls clench around him. 

The way he looked at you sent heat through your limbs, even as your thighs started to shake from the way you rode him. Jinyoung touched you all over, hands roaming your back and down to your ass, squeezing it within his palms. 

“Oh God, don’t… don’t stop,” you pleaded, head falling forward to rest against his forehead. You looked into his eyes, clouded with desire. Jinyoung reached for your hand on his chest, sliding it over the few inches until it rested over the left side of his chest, right over his heart. 

“Yours,” he whispered, then brought your hand up to his lips to kiss your fingertips. 

You closed your eyes and felt a tear slide down your cheek, so you turned your head to the side so he wouldn’t see. He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know what it meant. Caught up in the ecstacy of the way your bodies moved together, the pleasure it brought the two of you. 

His hips jerked up, hard, forcing his cock deep against your inner walls. He did it again and again until you were squeezing his hand, tight enough to hurt, but you needed your release. You were desperate now. 

The complicated tornado of emotions inside of you was getting to be too much, you wanted it to be over. You needed it to be over, so you could figure out what the hell you were going to do. 

“Need more. Fuck me, Jinyoung. Please,” you whispered, deliberately squeezing your walls around his cock. He groaned low, wrapping his arms around your waist to tip the two of you forward until you were on your back again, knees locked around his waist. 

His hands found yours, lacing your fingers together as he held your arms above your head, pressed deep into the mattress as he drilled into you. “Mine,” he told you, eyes locked onto yours. He didn’t know just how true that was. 

You knew you were close by the way your thighs started trembling, tightening where they rested on either side of his hips. Jinyoung sensed it as well, picking up his pace. His jaw tightened with the effort, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck. 

“Oh fuck, you gonna come for me?” he asked, running his tongue over his lips. “Come on, baby, come for me again. Need to feel you.” 

His words went straight to your center, where his body met yours, sending you tipping over the edge. You arched your back, not caring how loud you cried out. Your hands tightened around his as your entire body pulsed around him, locking your legs around his waist. 

Jinyoung must have been encouraged on by your orgasm, as you felt his thrusts become more and more off rhythm. He let go of your hands and buried his face into your neck as he filled you up, letting out a guttural groan into your collarbone. 

You crossed your ankles behind his back, not ready to let him pull out of you just yet. With your arms and legs wrapped around him, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck and willed yourself not to cry. 

It’d be okay, you knew it would be, but right now you just needed him to hold you. You’d find a way to forget this someday, the perfect way he fit inside of you, the way he made your heart pound without even trying. 

Your efforts were unsuccessful. Once Jinyoung pulled away, he reached up to wipe wetness from your cheeks. “Did you miss me that much, angel?” 

“Shut up,” you said, averting your eyes. “My period must be coming… hormones or whatever…”

“It’s okay,” he told you, lips brushing across your cheek to collect your tears. “You don’t have to explain.”

Jinyoung left you with a hollow feeling as he pulled out of you, falling to lay on his side next to you, feet at the pillows. Propping up on one of his elbows, he brushed your hair away from your face. 

“You’re okay though, right?” 

You nodded, not having the confidence to answer out loud. But he backed off, though you could tell from his expression he didn’t completely believe you. With a kiss to your forehead, he climbed off of the bed to grab a cloth to clean you up. 

“Wait-” you reached out for him. “Stay.” 

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” Jinyoung replied, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile.

“Just-” you sighed, reaching for his arm to tug him back to you. “Just a few minutes. Please?” 

Jinyoung stared down at you, you knew he was trying to read your expression but you prayed that he wouldn’t find the truth there in your features. “Okay.” 

He laid back down, pulling you close as you curled up into him, soaking up all of the warmth he could offer to you. You tucked your head into his chest, eyes closed to keep your emotions trapped behind a wall, however shaky it may have been. 

Just tonight, you told yourself. Just tonight, you could pretend.