#there's a special surprise this chapter!!

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 17

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 16 | Series Masterlist | Part 18

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.9k

Chapter Summary: You take a step further in your relationship with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, dirty talk, thigh riding, tension, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You tried to occupy yourself as you waited for Bucky to pick you up. You made sure you had your outfit for tomorrow and sent Addison a text to confirm when and where you were meeting. God, what if Bucky insisted on dropping you off? He likely would. There was no way he’d let you head over on your own, unless Ray or someone dropped you off.

“What am I doing?” you muttered.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned. You had changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable. He would think you looked sexy no matter what you wore, even if you didn’t try. What was he going to expect or demand from you? There was no way you’d go through the entire evening in his home without him touching you or something.

You weren’t sure if the anticipation was worse or knowing he’d probably make your body enjoy whatever he’d do to you, and use that as a weapon against you.

The knock on your door made you jump. Had two hours passed already? You checked the peephole and saw Bucky on the other side, shifting from one foot to the other. At least he didn’t break his way inside like he could’ve easily done.

“Hi.” You slowly opened the door to let him in. “I-”

Bucky had you against the wall before you could finish, his lips insistently pressing against yours. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours when he pulled away. “Don’t walk home alone again,” he whispered with a brief flash of fear in his eyes.

You nodded after a moment. The conversation from earlier was still on his mind, clearly. “I won’t.”

“You look beautiful by the way.” Taking a breath, he ran both hands through his hair and straightened up. He looked like his normal self again, and you knew it. No matter what he’d find you attractive. “Is this everything?” he asked, picking up the overnight bag and garment bag that you had left by the door.

“Yeah, it should be,” you said, making sure you had your phone and purse, too.

“Was the rest of your day okay?” he asked, watching carefully as you locked the door.

“It was fine,” you replied. You were so busy thinking about Bucky that you hadn’t thought much about Clark. “Was yours?”

“Better now that I’m taking you back to our place,” he said. There was that spring in his step again, like he was allowed to be happy since he knew you were really okay after walking home alone.

“You don’t have to go to the club tonight?” you asked.

“Only if there’s an emergency. There’s no special event tonight, no reason to make an appearance, and my staff knows how to take care of the place,” he assured you. “Time with you is much more important than that.”

When someone like Bucky had the kind of money he did, you imagined he’d drop just about anything to spend time with you and it wouldn’t make a dent in his pocketbook. Even if he lost everything tomorrow, it would be the same. Somehow you’d come first.

Once you were outside, you were surprised to find Steve standing by Bucky’s car instead of Ray. “Hi,” the blonde smiled with a row of perfect teeth.

“Hi,” you replied, stepping a bit closer to Bucky. Steve was his best friend, but you still didn’t know him well. What you did know was that he had his own woman he was stalking.

“Steve insisted on talking to you about that double date.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and refused to let his friend take the bags from his hands. He really didn’t want anyone else carrying your things or opening doors for you. “He’s stubborn, but you get used to it after a while.”

“I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky smiled, helping you into the car.

The interaction between the two of them was so natural and easy. You imagined that in another life they were decent men who fought for others instead of trapping them. “So, what exactly did you want to talk about?” you asked once you took off.

“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased.

“I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?

“Did you want to talk about the double date?” you asked, hoping the topic switch would help.

“Well, my girl likes art and Bucky mentioned how you sometimes like to relax with a glass of wine,” Steve began, smiling at you in the mirror. “So, I was thinking, we could do one of those wine and painting classes. Just the four of us.”

“But if you didn’t want to do a painting, they do something similar with pottery where everyone can pick their own piece to paint,” Bucky said, slipping an arm over your shoulders.

“Dinner before the painting, too. It would be really nice for you two to talk,” Steve continued, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. “She’s a sweet girl with a big heart, but she doesn’t have many friends nearby like you do.”

“I mean, I’m fine with painting a canvas or pottery. I think we should let her choose since art is one of her passions.” Your heart went out to the girl. Was that why Steve set his sights on her? Did he feel like he was rescuing her in some sense? “And does she have a preference on wine? White or red? Sweet or dry? Maybe I can pick a bottle for her while I’m at the vineyard tomorrow.”

Steve glanced at you again in the mirror, impressed. “That’s very considerate of you,” he said, sharing a quick look with Bucky, too. “And she likes sparkling sweet wine.”

“I have a very considerate girl,” Bucky boasted, kissing your temple. “You really are thoughtful.”

“I try to be,” you whispered, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I’m sure Bucky will give me the details once it’s set up,” you said, not finding it in you to argue since you were outnumbered.

“He will,” Steve smiled, clearing his throat. “And now that we have that out of the way…”

“Really, punk?” Bucky asked, tightening his hand on our shoulder.

You sat up a little. All the warmth had left his voice, and he tensed up beside you. “What’s going on?”

“Tell her, Buck,” Steve urged.

You held your breath. Was this about earlier in the day when Ray spoke with Bucky? “Yes, please, tell me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Mrs. Crandle wasn’t at work today, was she?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

“No, she…” Your eyes widened. Kate said she called out for some business reason. “Oh, my god. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Just shut up and drive,” Bucky ordered when you gasped. “The reason she was suddenly out of work today was because of Zemo.”

Your heart sank. What the hell would Zemo want with Mrs. Crandle? “What do you mean?”

“From what we’ve gathered, he met up with her to tell her that she won an all expenses paid trip to a flower expo. She was shocked since she didn’t remember even entering the contest, but he told her someone anonymously registered her,” he explained. “He asked questions about some of her employees in case she wanted to bring anyone from her shop along and your name came up.”

“But why?” you asked. Why would Zemo make a contest just to talk to your boss?

“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.”

“Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Bucky doesn’t have his hand in the shop out of respect for you, and Zemo knows that,” Steve chimed in before Bucky could argue. “So it’s possible that he may be trying to butter Mrs. Crandle up before he makes an offer, whether it’s to offer some kind of protection or to buy out her shop completely.”

The thought of Zemo owning the shop where you worked or having his hand in it made your stomach turn. “She loves her shop, and she’s honest when it comes to business. She wouldn’t want someone stepping in or buying it,” you said, your breathing a bit heavier. “Is she in danger? Is something going to happen to her because of me?”

If something happened to Mrs. Crandle, you’d never forgive yourself.

“It isn’t because of you, Kotyonok. It’s his actions,” Bucky answered. Just like Bucky’s actions put you in the line of fire. “I hesitated telling you because we still need answers, but she’s safe. We also have someone keeping an eye on her, just to exercise caution.”

You exhaled. If Zemo was trying to scare you, it was working. “Please, don’t keep me in the dark,” you said. Even if it scared you, you had to know. “And Mrs. Crandle is one of the most harmless people in the city and the shop is all she has. If he-”

“We won’t let anything happen to her,” Bucky promised. It was a lot to promise. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say something this morning. I just wanted you to have a normal day.”

You understood part of Bucky’s reasoning. Telling you even when she wasn't in immediate danger would've thrown your whole day off. But what was a normal day now? “We deal with ups and downs every day. So just tell me next time something’s going on, especially if it involves someone important to me.” Ignorance isn't bliss in the world Bucky lived in.

He regarded you with a soft smile. “I will.”

You stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride while Bucky and Steve discussed dinner options for the double date night. It would’ve been endearing with how excited they were, had it not been for the fact that you and Steve’s girl didn’t exactly have a choice. What was going to happen at Thor’s party?

And what about your loved ones? Were they safe? You thought being by Bucky’s side would keep them safe from his wrath, but what if Zemo went after them? You had to trust that Bucky and his men wouldn't allow that to happen.

“You two have fun tonight,” Steve winked. “Try not to get too handsy, jerk.”

“What?” you asked, your throat dry once you realized you were at Bucky’s place. God, you were really there. There was no backing out.

“Just get in your car and go, punk,” Bucky chuckled, helping you out and grabbing your things. “He really is excited for you and his girl to become friends.”

“I’ll bet,” you said, giving Steve a small wave for his benefit.

You counted the number of steps from the car to the elevator. This was similar to when he brought you here the first time because you didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse though knowing what you knew now.

“Where’s Ray?” you asked.

“He’s busy,” Bucky answered cryptically, sweeping his gaze over you. “You seem nervous. If you’d rather skip your day out tomorrow, I can help you find a few ways to relax.”

“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested.

“You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”

“Okay,” you breathed, hoping he didn’t notice you trembling as you walked through the place. It felt warmer than the last time you were there, more like the temperature that you kept at your place. And as dangerous as Bucky was, you somehow felt safe being there. Someone like Zemo wasn’t going to get in there. Clark wouldn’t either.

Rubbing your arms, you took a seat on the sofa. It was a beautiful room, but nothing like your living room. It wasn't just the difference in size, but you noticed once again that there were no nicknacks or homey touches. Maybe you could add a pop or color or even some flowers to… Oh, God. You were really thinking of how you’d decorate the place.

“You still look nervous,” Bucky said once he joined you, giving you absolutely no space as he took a seat. “You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lied, biting your lip. “Okay, I am a little.”

He hummed. “Were you expecting me to drag you to bed?”

You nodded slowly. He behaved himself in the car with Steve there, but now the two of you were alone and you had no idea where Ray was. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he thought belonged to him.

“You thought sex would make it up to me because you walked home alone?”

“No,” you said immediately. You shouldn’t have to give him sex to say you’re sorry, especially when he had a much longer list of things he needed to apologize for. “I just thought this was a natural step in a relationship, you know? Spending the night together.”

A natural step would’ve been him staying at your place, too, but he was certain you would live at his place. And having him in your space, it didn’t feel the same. It was something you wanted to keep sacred.

“It is a natural step, but I don’t think you offered to stay here to make it up to me.”

His statement surprised you. That was part of the reason. If you made it up to him, he wouldn’t object to you going out with your friends. You weren’t going to bring up Clark or that the thought of being alone at your place made you nervous. “Then why else do you think I’m here?” you asked.

“Because you like being near me,” he said, your eyes rounding. “You slept beside me last night and you want to experience that again. Either that or being near me makes you feel safer than you want to admit.”

You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-”

He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”

You shook your head again. Admitting that being in his arms wasn’t terrible and that his place did feel safer than yours at the moment would give him another win. “I'm not admitting anything.”

The smile on his face widened. “Is it because I'm right and you don't want me to be right?”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, standing and crossing your arms. “I should just go.”

“No, no, no. I’ll stop teasing. Please stay,” he nearly begged, getting to his feet, too. “How about I run you a bath and you can relax?”

“...A bath?” you asked. It wasn’t fair. He knew how much you loved taking baths.

He nodded. “A warm bath and a glass of wine, too.”

You uncrossed your arms, avoiding his hopeful gaze. It was a bit of a rough day, on top of a rough week. You deserved to relax. “Okay, that actually sounds really nice.”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I have bath bombs or salts if you want those, too. Anything to help you relax.”

“You have bath bombs?” you asked, your curiosity peaked. “What kind?”

“I have honeysuckle, lavender, vanilla,” he smiled softly. Each scent sounded like something that would help make the stress leave your body. “Let me show you.”

You let him lead the way you were pretty sure most of your apartment could fit inside the luxurious bathroom. The inviting tub almost made you burst into happy tears. It was nothing like your builder's grade tub. This was an honest to goodness clawfoot tub of your dreams.

“You like it?” Bucky smiled.

Blinking, you remembered Bucky saying how he wanted to fuck you in his tub. Would it be tonight? “I love it,” you admitted.

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’ll grab a tray and I can bring you a book if you want. Or you can just relax and enjoy your wine.”

“Well.” You thought it over. “I wouldn’t mind a book.”

Bucky nodded and brought the bath bombs out for you to choose from before he ushered you into the bedroom. “Why don't you stay here and pick one out while I'll get everything else you need?”

“Okay,” you said, holding your breath as you stared at the king sized bed. You avoided looking at it when he led you into the bathroom, but now you couldn’t help yourself. That was the bed he expected you to sleep with him in… the bed he’d fuck you and make love to you in. The satin sheets were a dark promise that he’d get everything he wanted and more.

Shaking your head, you carefully picked up each bath bomb and gave them a sniff. Each one smelled better than the last, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the one you selected. You wondered if he had these before you met or if he bought them specifically for you to have available.

Bucky came back after a minute and took your hand, guiding you back into the bathroom. “I’ve got everything all set.” The tub was steaming, candles were lit, and there was a generous glass of wine waiting on the tray with a book. “There's a robe on the back of the door, and I'll make sure fresh pajamas are ready for when you get out.”

You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.”

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”

“Thanks.” What other clothes did he have waiting for you? “What will you do while I'm in the tub?”

“I have a couple of calls to make.” He kissed your forehead. “And there's something else I want to set up for you.”

You shook your head. “I think this is more than enough,” you said honestly. He didn’t have to go to the trouble of setting this up. “But…” You fidgeted a little. “You promise you won’t just… barge in, right?”

This was still his home. He could easily make an excuse to go into his bathroom for whatever reason. And being naked in the bathtub, you’d be more vulnerable than normal.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.”

You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”

With a small smile, he shut the door behind him. You waited a full minute after hearing his footsteps fade before you undressed and added the bath bomb to the tub. The scent brought a smile to your face before you tested the water temperature with your hand. It felt perfect, evident by your sigh once you got in.

You took your time sipping your wine as you began to read. Was this really going to be your bathroom now? Would you relax here after a rough shift or just because you felt like it? How many nights would Bucky insist on joining you?

But the man was, surprisingly, true to his word. He hadn’t disturbed you once. Even after you finished your glass and added more warm water to the tub, he didn’t knock or barge in. Even when you grudgingly got out of the tub and dried off before you pulled the plush robe on, he wasn’t sitting there waiting. Was he actually respecting your boundaries?

Peeking out into the bedroom, Bucky had laid out a pair of soft pajamas like he promised and was still nowhere to be seen. You were still quick to change so he couldn’t sneak a look at you. But where was he?

You thought of calling out when you went to search for him since the lights were dimmed all over the penthouse. Your fingers touched one of the walls. Would he ever hang a picture of his mom up or was it too painful?

Tiptoeing over to the balcony when you saw the door open, you spotted Bucky reading a book, too, and sipping whiskey from a tumbler. He looked completely at ease, lost in his own lonely world, and you weren’t sure if you should disturb him. Turning around, you wondered where you should go. Maybe you could curl up on the couch or something before he could-

“All finished in the bath?”

You froze and turned back toward him, his hair gently blowing in the breeze. “Yeah, sorry. I didn't know what to do when I was done, so I was going to wander around.”

He downed the rest of his glass and smiled. “You're welcome to wander, except into the den which is being redone.” He offered his hand again when he stood. “Did you enjoy your bath?”

“I did. That bath bomb was incredible,” you said. There was no reason to lie. “So was the wine.”

You gulped a little. Oh, god. You didn’t see him pour the glass. Why did you accept that from him? He could’ve put something in it. No, he wouldn’t. He wanted you to want him without that sort of influence.

“I'll get you more. The bath bomb and the wine.” he smiled, leading you back to the living room where he had pillows and blankets set up.

“Bucky, you didn’t have to-”

“I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”

You looked at the lush blankets and fluffy pillows. Like the bathroom, it looked like a dream. Looking back at him, you smiled softly at his once again hopeful expression. He carried himself with such confidence and didn't seem to care if he impressed others except for you. “I do. Thank you.”

He smiled, too, his whole face bright. “I thought it would be another good way to relax.”

The memory of Clark walking you home popped in your mind for some reason before you pushed it away. “This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?”

He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You blinked and nodded. “I’m fine.”

Bucky considered you and you couldn’t help but fidget again when he pinned you with his gaze. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek and closed your eyes. “I just don't understand why you’re doing all of this.”

He could’ve been manipulating you again, but it actually seemed like he was trying to be a doting boyfriend without expecting anything in return. Your guard was down enough for him to worm his way in, and you all too easily accepted the kind gestures. Why were you making it easy for him?

“You mean setting up the blankets and pillows? I thought we could lay together and watch a movie. Or talk.” His fingers touched your cheek again. “Whatever you want.”

You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something.

He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.”

You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.

“And how do you feel being here compared to the first time?”

“Better,” you admitted. You weren’t completely terrified this time, and you also felt like you had some control over. Maybe not much, but some.

“Good. Now, shall we?”

You nodded and allowed Bucky to help you settle into the comfort of the pillows. He pulled you close, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. This felt more gentle. More… right.

It should’ve felt wrong.

The room was so quiet and all you could hear for a minute was the gentle sound of his breathing and his heart beating. “What's your favorite color?” you asked. “I don't think you've told me.”

You weren’t sure if you had taken the time to ask because, well, it hadn’t been a real relationship in your eyes. But you needed to know him. Call it acceptance or ammunition. Maybe both.

“Blue,” he answered, his hand absentmindedly moving along your side.

“And your birthday?”

“March 10th.”

“Wait, you're a Pisces?” you smiled a little. “That explains so much.”

He smiled down at you and chuckled. “Oh, does it now?”

You laughed lightly. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re just… you know…” He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to finish. “Emotional.”

“I can't argue with that,” he smiled, leaning in a bit. “Does it explain anything else?”

“Well, you're…” You were a little distracted as he kept rubbing your side. “Intense. Passionate. You want to be close to the person you fall for.”

He fit that to a tee.

His darkened eyes made you lose your breath. “I can’t argue with that either,” he whispered, pulling you close without hesitation and fusing your mouths together.

Bucky held you tight and rolled you over so you were on top of him, his hands skimming your thighs as he made you straddle him. A small sound escaped when he brushed against you, your heart pounding in your ears. “Bucky-”

“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.”

“No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Please?” he asked, thrusting his hips up. “I’ll make it worth your while if you skip.”

Natasha’s words crossed your mind, reminding you that you had power. But a sinking feeling washed over you because that power had to come from your body, right? You shouldn’t be expected to give him sex, but you could give him something to hold him over. Pushing the dread away, you could hate yourself later for it. “You can spend time with me when I get back,” you offered, grinding your hips against his. “I’ll be all yours.”

The sickening feeling you expected when he moaned didn’t come. “You promise?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, grinding your hips again. “You can even drop me off at Addison’s, and I’ll let you know when I get back to my place. I promise.”

“Okay, Kotyonok,” he groaned, his hands grabbing your waist. Your triumph didn’t last long. “Keep doing that and I’ll pay for all the bottles of wine you want, too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Let me touch you. Please, just let me make you feel good,” he half begged, half demanding between kissing you again. He truly hungered for you. “I'll make you feel amazing if you just let me touch you.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. How far would he take it if he touched you? No, you had to stay in control. “You are touching me.”

“Let me take you to bed. I'll eat your pussy so good you'll cry.”

You tensed and tried to push yourself up, but he grabbed you and situated you over one of his massive thighs. He had a firm hold on you and it made your heart pound. “I don't want you to be scared. I'll take such good care of you.”

“I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control.

“You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”

You made a small sound, trying to get your body to relax. You had never ridden anyone’s thigh before and you hadn’t pictured it like this. But the blissful look on his face, he looked like he was in heaven.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Especially like this,” he praised.

“I…” you whimpered. “I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” he growled, tightening his grip. “And you deserve to feel good. My girl deserves whatever she wants.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders when he flexed his thigh, sending an unexpected shock through your entire body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“That felt good, right?” he asked, watching you with lidded eyes. “You want me to keep going? Make you come all over my pants?”

You whimpered when he held you still, unsure it was his dirty talk or the slight edging that had you trembling. “Bucky…”

“Tell me, Kotyonok,” he ordered, licking his lips and relaxing back into the blankets and pillows. “Tell me you want me to keep going and I will.”

You looked deep into his eyes. There was so much fire in them and it was burning for you. Your breath caught as he flexed his thigh again and you found yourself nodding. “Please, Bucky. Keep going.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I said,” he whispered, sliding his tongue along your lips. “Tell me.”

You swallowed hard, your core throbbing. “I want you to keep going,” you breathed.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, rocking you over his thigh again and sitting up, desperately pressing his lips to your neck. “You'll never have to beg for anything you want. Just ask or tell me and it's yours.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling his thigh getting wetter beneath you. “Please…” you whispered, unsure of what exactly you were asking for. Mercy? To be put out of your misery? You could ask for anything except for freedom.

“Still begging when you don't have to.” He chuckled affectionately. “You’re so sweet.”

The pleasure building inside you was bittersweet. Sexual acts were, in your eyes, something to bring you closer together. What would he want next? What would you want next?

“Fucking yourself on my thigh. Wait ‘til you fuck yourself on my cock,” he gruffly spoke, your walls clenching around nothing when he lightly nipped over your pulse. “Just let go if you want. Make a mess for me.”

You were breathless from how close you were. “Do… that again,” you said, unable to let yourself feel embarrassed in the moment.

Bucky nipped your neck again and smiled when you moaned. “Fuck, that’s my beautiful girl. Doing so good for me, telling me what you want,” he said gruffly, dragging you faster along his thigh. “Now I want you to come for me.”

Your mouth fell open when he rocked you faster and bit down once more, hard enough that something inside you snapped. It didn’t just snap, you shattered. You saw stars. You couldn't stop it.

“There you go. Coming just for me,” he smiled, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you got my thigh all wet. Just ride it out. Good girl.”

Your face burned and you wanted to hide once you slowed down, but he wouldn’t let you when he lifted his head. He looked so happy, like a cat who got the cream. Your release dripped from your pussy and soaked your pajamas and his pants. You let him get you off.

And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him.

He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.

He kept his mouth close to yours when you pulled back. The orgasm surprisingly helped you relax, but it worried you, too. Had you pushed too far with what you just did? Would he want more? You couldn’t let him in, and you weren’t ready to let yourself fall for him after everything. Not yet.

“Um, thanks,” you said, unsure of what to say to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he smiled.

His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement.

“That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “But that’s… No. I…” You just wanted a bit of time with your friends, it wasn’t about trust. Was it? How could you trust this man?

He tucked your head under his chin and wrapped one of the blankets around you. “I know you're still a bit scared and you don’t want to trust me, and that’s okay. It’s scary to let someone like me in after everything.”

You shut your eyes to hold back tears. He had scared you from the moment you met, but you wouldn’t say you were completely scared of him right now. Not really. You didn’t know how you felt.

That was what scared you.

“Will someone keep an eye on my place while I’m out tomorrow?” you asked curiously, hoping the question didn't sound weird. You just didn't want Clark snooping around, and you didn't want Bucky worked up if you mentioned him.

“I have safety measures in place,” he replied. “Do you feel safe here?” he asked above a whisper.

“Yes,” you replied. You felt safe and in danger all at once. It was a strange feeling.

“Good,” he whispered. “Hey. Maybe you can spend the night tomorrow, too? We’ll do a movie night.”

“Maybe,” you whispered, your heart finally starting to slow to a steady rate. “And pizza.”

“Pizza and a movie? It’s a date,” he smiled. “We can talk about redecorating the place, too. Make it a real home for us.”

“A real home,” you whispered, knowing full well you were home for Bucky.

He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted.

And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.

So, that happened. It could've been... worse? He's wearing his girl down, isn't he? How are things going to be in the morning? Will he leave you be when you're with your friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dufferpuffer]

The more I check and analyze this bloody chapter the more it cements for me how distant but NICE Dumbledore is shown to be. Remus Lupin level of being friendly and gentle but not wanting to make attachments.

The only way to make it seem otherwise, that he is being a prick to this 11yr old boy, is to misinterpret quotes out of context. Am I an incorrect silly? I don't think so, but It's not off the table. I'm gonna take points from all the previous posters here and give my reasoning's, so let me know:

1: Albus thinks Tom is unreasonable for saying he was 'special'.

“He believed it much quicker than I did — I mean, when you told him he was a wizard,” said Harry. “I didn’t believe Hagrid at first, when he told me.” "Yes, Riddle was perfectly ready to believe he was - to use his word - 'special,' " said Dumbledore.

Wow. Suddenly, with context, Albus doesn't sound rude anymore! It's highlighting differences between Harry and Tom as people, neutrally - Harry didn't believe he could be special. Tom did. Nobody is giving him shit for that. Why would they? 'Wizard' and 'Special' are basically synonymous.

In fact, Albus called having Magic being 'Special' FIRST:

“I am not from the asylum,” said Dumbledore patiently. “I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you —” “I’d like to see them try,” sneered Riddle. “Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, as though he had not heard Riddle’s last words, “is a school for people with special abilities —” “I’m not mad!” “I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic.”

Either Dumbledore was being a blatant hypocrite in a way Harry didn't pick up on... …Or he wasn't giving Tom shit for thinking himself 'special'.

To forcibly read a sarcastic, negative, judgemental and biting tone: keep in mind this is 60 years later. 60 years he feels partially responsible for, as Tom acted as a murderer under his nose and became Lord Voldemort. Surely he could be excused for being a little salty now.

But how did Albus act towards him when it happened...?

“I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.” His legs were trembling. He stumbled forward and sat down on the bed again, staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer. “I knew I was different,” he whispered to his own quivering fingers. “I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something.” “Well, you were quite right,” said Dumbledore, who was no longer smiling, but watching Riddle intently. “You are a wizard.”

Tom is excited his ability to move things, control animals, do bad things and hurt others makes him different, makes him 'special'. Albus AGREES with him. 'Yes, Tom - you ARE special. You were right to think those things make you a very special boy.'

As I will go through in more detail than this continuing on in the post - Albus was NOT judgemental towards Tom in the past at all. Even Harry is surprised at how trusting and generous he is to Tom.

2. Albus set the wardrobe on fire to punish and instill fear in Tom - a stupid idea, because that will only make Tom hate him.

Alright, lets see how much Tom hated and feared him for that:

The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged. Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. “Where can I get one of them?”

The picture of a traumatized child: Shocked by a magic trick then gleefully wanting his own wand to learn to do it himself.

But - it is true that Dumbledore frightened him:

“All in good time,” said Dumbledore. “I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe.” And sure enough, a faint rattling could be heard from inside it. For the first time, Riddle looked frightened. […] Riddle took down the quaking box. He looked unnerved. “Is there anything in that box that you ought not to have?” asked Dumbledore. Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. “Yes, I suppose so, sir,” he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Oh dear. He is frightened - not of the flames but of consequences to his actions! Why is Albus doing this horrible, terrible thing...?

“You will return them to their owners with your apologies,” said Dumbledore calmly, putting his wand back into his jacket. “I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned: Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts.” […] “At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic — yes, there is a Ministry — will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws.”

Well look at that! It's all been a lesson from the man he has just accepted as a Professor on controlling one's magic! Magic Lesson 1: he has inadvertently been letting his Magic run away with him (like many do) in ways that Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic (both far more powerful than Albus) will punish him for.

Notice that he takes any guilt, shame and blame off of Tom's shoulders? Saying that his behavior is common! Understandable! He isn't accusing him of intentionally doing anything wrong, even when the Matron had suggested he was. He is assuming Tom's innocence - or at the very least giving him an easy way out of guilt into a new life: 'Give the Muggles back their trinkets and wipe your slate clean.'

Following the rules of this new world is a CHOICE - and he will be guided through learning all the rules at school. He is literally saying 'Hogwarts and the Ministry won't be as lenient with his behavior as I am, but it's okay - you will be taught.'

The flames were not meant to frighten - they were part of a lesson on the importance of learning to control ones destructive magic. Tom actually quite liked the flames - and was more worried about being found out and punished for his bad behavior.

Yet he wasn't punished for that, either. Unless you call being asked to give stolen things back punishment, in which case he got the lightest slap on the wrist with a little kiss better afterwards.

3. Albus dangles school attendance in the form of getting Tom to call him Sir - 'if you accept your place at my school you'll have to call me sir'

He doesn't dangle anything - and he doesn't phrase it like that.

“I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school — your new school, if you would like to come.” “You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course — well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!” “I am not from the asylum,” said Dumbledore patiently. “I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you —” “I’d like to see them try,” sneered Riddle. […] “Are you a wizard too?" “Yes, I am.” “Prove it,” said Riddle at once, in the same commanding tone he had used when he had said, “Tell the truth.” Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts —” “Of course I am!” “Then you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir.’

Tom has been yelling at Dumbledore. Sneering at him. Threatening him. Calling him a liar. Talking over him. Commanding him.

Things Albus never tells him off for, never even brings up - things he has simply withstood and been patient with, as Tom is upset. But now that Tom is calming down - now that he is choosing to listen, to believe and to be a student at Hogwarts - he will need to act like one and call him 'Professor' instead of 'Liar' and 'Doctor'.

And it is always phrased as a choice. The place at the school is offered. He can choose to come. If he would like to calm down a little, he can be told more about it - but nobody will force him to do anything. He says, from his own free will, that he would like to be a student. His attendance is accepted: Albus is, from now, his Professor.

4. Albus drops the reassuring facade the moment Tom says he is special.

Reassuring things Albus says/does after Tom says he is Special:

+ “At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you."

+ When he had finished, he turned to Dumbledore and said baldly, “I haven’t got any money.” “That is easily remedied,” said Dumbledore, drawing a leather money-pouch from his pocket.

+ “Where do you buy spellbooks?” interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon. “In Diagon Alley,” said Dumbledore. “I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything —” “You’re coming with me?” asked Riddle, looking up. “Certainly, if you —” “I don’t need you,” said Riddle. (doesn't tell him off for snatching, doesn't insist on politeness, doesn't ask him not to interrupt, offers to come with him…)

+ Harry thought that Dumbledore would insist upon accompanying Riddle, but once again he was surprised. Dumbledore handed Riddle the envelope containing his list of equipment, and after telling Riddle exactly how to get to the Leaky Cauldron from the orphanage, he said, “You will be able to see it, although Muggles around you — non-magical people, that is — will not. Ask for Tom the barman — easy enough to remember, as he shares your name —” (trusts Tom to go by himself, like he wants to do - a strange choice if he was worried about how evil he is. Harry thinks it's surprising.)

+ “Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they’ve told me.” “I’m afraid I don’t know,” said Dumbledore, his voice gentle.

+ “All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope,” said Dumbledore. “You will leave from King’s Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there too.” Riddle nodded. Dumbledore got to his feet and held out his hand again. (Shakes his hand. The hand of an 11yr old 'worthless' orphan, a boy used to having every adult hate and distrust him.)

Definitely the actions of a man who thinks the worst of Tom.

5. Dumbledore shows Tom he is undesirable and will be treated like a future criminal even in the Wizarding World - he has already been catalogued as trouble.

Indeed. By calling him special twice, offering him a place at a special school for special people, being calm and patient when he was upset, casually waving away all his wrongdoings, warning that they are considered illegal actions in the Wizarding World but promising he will be taught how to act in accordance to his new laws, not once commenting on his rude actions, shaking his hand on greeting and goodbye, allowing him to act freely without supervision, trusting him with money when he has a past of theft - Albus is DEFINITELY making sure Tom knows that he is already considered undesirable and a future criminal.

6. Hagrid stood up for Harry against his abusers - Albus didn't do that for Tom.

He didn't do it as overtly as bashing down a door, taking over the room and scaring the shit out of some Muggles. But I would argue he did stand up for him - for his sense of self.

Tom was scared of two things:

Doctors coming to say he is mad.

Being punished for bad behavior.

Straight up: Albus gave him the option for a new life with a clean slate and also confirmed he was special, not mad. He was so SOFT. Understanding. He's had heard 100 horrible things and yet just waves them away, doesn't bring anything up. Traumatized little kids? Killed an animal? Whatever. You're a Wizard.

Tom says he will give back the stolen things, that he wants to go to Hogwarts... so Albus bends over backwards giving him all the forgiveness and freedom he hasn't had before. Trusting him. Albus is acting unlike any adult Tom has likely ever met - from the moment he walked in and shook his hand like a friend.

No, Albus didn't tell off the Matron. He drugged her and used magic on her to get what he wanted - but he didn't tell her off. Does he really need to, though, when the message of 'You will be leaving this awful place behind, Tom. Leave these childish, dull things behind and come be special.' is so clear…?

(Honestly I'm not sure what he would even say, as far as Orphanage Matrons go she was quite good. She cared about Tom's well being and privacy, gives the kids their own rooms, allowed them to have their own toys and books and even pets, knows the kids' names and preferences, cares for their well being enough to drive her ragged. She's hardly perfect, but for the 1930s when Workhouses were still around - she's alright. As all the kids aren't stuffed into big rooms filled with beds and made to work their asses off - her orphanage is far better than most. Harry liked her.)

In Summary:

Nobody thinks Tom was unreasonable for thinking he was special. Albus didn't try to scare him with magic tricks - and any 'punishment' Tom suffered was about as strong as a pat on the head. Rather than give Tom ultimatums or hold promises at arms length he constantly gave him patience and options. The most he asked of Tom was to give back stolen toys to their owners before he left - and to call him 'Professor'. He was friendly and reassuring the entire conversation - and freely gave trust and forgiveness for everything from criminal activities to simple impoliteness, like talking over him and not saying thankyou. While Albus didn't beat anyone up in-front of Tom, he did promise him everything he had ever dreamed of - and delivered.

He acted like a calm, understanding adult in the face of both Tom's defensiveness and his excitement - guiding him gently but understanding the importance of giving the boy what he needs: A bit of freedom from the constant scrutiny he has faced.

I went through in meticulous detail the entire scene here, though I might want to rewrite it sometime, idk.

"Yes, Riddle was perfectly ready to believe he was - to use his word - 'special,' " said Dumbledore.

-- Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

I know that he's trying to imply here that Riddle already had budding megalomaniacal tendencies. But come ON. His powers were highly developed. He could move things with his mind. It's not unreasonable for him to conclude that he is special and can do things others cannot; that's just the literal truth. Also, I'd like to point out that Riddle actually first says "I knew I was different." But I guess Dumbledore wants to skip over that bit.

And over the implications. Riddle is, as far as he knows, the only person who can do what he does. He knows nothing about the magical world or what he is. For all he knows he really is haunted or possessed by a demon or something. Part of him must have wondered if he really was mad and imagining it all. His initial, violently fearful and aggressive reaction to Dumbledore when he thinks he's a doctor certainly is very telling and has a lot of implications about the treatment he's experienced during his first 11 years of life.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 8: unspoken but understood

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: everyone see it, everyone knows it... you're just not resfry to admit it

Welcome to the chapter 8 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The time at home had been everything I needed—warm hugs from Granny, my mom’s home-cooked meals, and the simple comfort of being surrounded by family. It also gave me the chance to step back and see the bigger picture. My final project wasn’t just about basketball anymore; it was about capturing life, connections, and the emotions that come with them.

For the past week, I’d been documenting everything on my personal camera. From my morning walks through the fields to late-night chats with Granny, I wanted to remember it all. Paige had been right by my side, blending seamlessly into my family. It was surprising how easily she fit in, like she was always meant to be there.

One evening, I was in the kitchen baking peach cobbler with Granny. She insisted I follow her exact recipe, even though I’d made it a dozen times before.

“Now, don’t you dare skimp on the cinnamon,” she scolded, wagging a finger at me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied with a grin.

The next day, my mom organized a BBQ, and the whole family came over. My younger cousins adored Paige, dragging her into games of tag and basketball in the driveway.

“Paige! Paige! Show us your moves!” my cousin Jackson, an aspiring point guard, begged.

Paige laughed and spun the ball on her finger. “Alright, but only if y’all promise not to dunk on me later.”

The kids screamed in delight as Paige ran drills with them, pretending to stumble whenever they “crossed” her over. Watching her interact with my family made my chest feel tight in the best way.

That night, Granny and I sat on the porch swing, the crickets chirping softly in the background.

“You’ve got a good one there,” she said, nodding toward the house where Paige was laughing with my mom.

“She’s not mine, Granny,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Granny gave me a knowing look. “Not yet, maybe. But the way she looks at you, and the way you talk about her? It’s only a matter of time.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond.

Granny patted my hand. “Don’t let fear keep you from happiness, baby. You deserve it.”

Paige’s POV

As Y/N and Granny talked on the porch, I found myself in the kitchen with her mom, helping clean up after the BBQ.

“So, what’s Y/N’s favorite thing to do on a night out?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Planning something, are we?”

“Maybe,” I said with a smirk.

Her mom’s face softened. “She loves sunsets, anything strawberry-flavored, and quiet places where she can think. But honestly, she’ll love anything you do, as long as it’s with her. Also something about the water calms her. And if you want to impress her, take her to special place that no one knows about.”

I nodded, filing the information away. “Thanks, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Call me Mom,” she said with a smile.

I smiled, filing away the information. “Thank you.”

“Just take care of her,” she said, her tone serious now. “She’s been through a lot, and she deserves someone who will treat her right.”

“I will, momma” I promised.

Y/n Pov

The week flew by, and soon it was time to head back to Connecticut. At the airport, Paige noticed me shivering and draped her UConn warm-up jacket over my shoulders.

“You didn’t pack warm clothes, did you?” she teased.

“I didn’t think I’d need them,” I replied, clutching the jacket tightly.

As we walked through the terminal, I noticed a few fans snapping pictures. By the time we boarded the plane, Twitter was already buzzing.

At the next practice, Coach Geno wasted no time teasing us.

“Look at the lovebirds, back from their honeymoon,” he said with a grin.

“Not you too, Coach,” I groaned, my cheeks heating up.

Paige just laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “You know they won’t let this go, right?”

“I know,” I muttered.

The teasing didn’t stop there. During warm-ups at the next game, Paige convinced me to let her work the camera.

“Just point and shoot,” I said, handing it to her.

“You act like I’ve never held a camera before,” she said, rolling her eyes.

She ended up taking surprisingly good shots, though she couldn’t resist turning the camera on me a few times.

“Smile, Y/N!” she called, snapping a photo of me blushing.

After the game, a reporter asked Paige about our relationship during a post-game interview.

“Paige, there have been rumors about you and Y/N. Care to comment?”

Paige’s smile didn’t falter, but I could see the tension in her jaw. “Y/N’s a good friend and an incredible photographer. That’s all there is to it.”

The answer stung, but I understood why she said it.

Later that night, as we reviewed footage together, Paige leaned closer and whispered, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” I said, my voice soft.

The truth hung between us, unspoken but understood.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)

[mcrololo]

Bechloe fic recs

(in no particular order)

You Make Me Believe In Magic by @shikariix

In the opening stood a woman with a tiny frame, bending forward slightly and breathing heavily. The light pouring in from behind her made it hard to see just how dirty and scratched up her clothing was. “Hey, uh,” she started loudly, still panting, “not to freak anyone out or whatever, but there's kind of a dragon on the loose. You all gotta evacuate.”

What can I say? It's got magic, it's got dragons, it's got gay flirting AND a kick-ass moodboard that inspired the whole shebang. Exactly up my alley, and if you said 'hell yeah Rolo, me too!' then what are you waiting for!! (nudges the author to write the soft epilogue i so truly desire) (in the meantime also read this new years one-shot & also this incredible piece of writing by my love and heart)

All is fair in Love and War by @pulledpurplecurtains

It's not about having feelings. It's about what you do with them. There's never a choice where the heart is concerned. The mind, however…the mind always comes up with choices. And sometimes life tends to happen as well.

Honestly I'm due for a reread of this but I remember immensely enjoying this fic. I certainly had a blast getting the go ahead to analyze it, almost as much as Ana probably had writing it! They're in high school, they're in gay love & also they are idiots. What else would you need?

"Something angsty, Rolo," you might say. And boy do I have the fic for you by the same author! (read the tags, be mindful of the warnings)

it takes two (to be santa claus) by @becasbelt

With their marriage on the brink of divorce, Beca and Chloe vow to do whatever it takes to give their daughter one last perfect Christmas- even if it means tracking down a rare American Girl doll two weeks before Christmas.

I know I already recommended this the other day but I just... It's so fucking good. I don't have words. Actually I do, go read it y'all (and when you're done then also read the cream in my coffee by the same author because I'm also still thinking about that one.

i think (s)he knows by @pinkpastels113

The Starbucks espresso machine broke again and Chloe is supposed to be taking care of everything, but the mechanic who showed up to fix it is making her job more difficult than it already was.

I forgot how much I love me a coffeeshop AU until I read this one. I don't often see flustered Chloe Beale in fic but here it's so blatant and I adore it so much!! I need more flustered Chloe Beale in my life pls (also go read this one too it's so fun!)

All I Ask of You by @kailoraurelius

From day one, Beca has always been there for her. If Chloe can count on anything, it's Beca. So now, pacing her kitchen anxiously, she waits for Beca to show up. Chloe has something very important to tell her…

Listen, Stained Glass will always have a special place in my heart, but I think AIAOY actually knocked it off its place because the found family characterization in this one just HITS. It's off the charts!! It's got everything; love, humor, and me on the floor crying (positive!) tears because the writing is so so beautifully descriptive.

naked in manhattan by @afh48

"Hi, it's Chloe! I know you just landed, and I know you're probably busy. But I would love to see you! So call me when you can!"

From the first chapter onwards I was HOOKED. I love experimental works and what is a first ever fic if not finding your writers voice? I enjoyed the journey of unlearning internalized homophobia; of characters clearly making decisions that were bad for them because of fear. But the fluff is the sweet, sweet cherry on top!

those days turned into nights by hedaswolf (the baddestwolf)

Beca kisses Chloe in the heat of the moment after winning Worlds. Of course, she proceeds to avoid the topic altogether. You can imagine Chloe’s surprise when Beca suggests they change their flights so they can drive to Stockholm in search of Swedish Princess Cake. But how long can Chloe go without bringing up the kiss? or, the Denmark to Sweden roadtrip fic that no one asked for

I swooned reading this. It's romantic, it's funny, it's angsty because they're pining idiots.... On top of that it's in 2nd pov and I LOVE 2nd pov <3

Life on Shuffle by @yelena-belover

“I know you don’t know me, Beca. But I’ve basically known you my whole life.” Bechloe // The Time Traveler's Wife AU -- Beca Mitchell suffers from Chrono-Impairment, a rare genetic disorder that causes her to spontaneously and uncontrollably time travel. Living life out of order isn't easy for Beca, and it's just as hard for Chloe, who struggles to cope with her frequent, often dangerous absences.

Chapter 8 and 11 shattered me in all possible ways. The way this fic weaves the timeline together so seamlessly... Time fuckery is hard to write, and it needs to be done right in order to feel satisfying; though still an ongoing fic, this one does it so masterfully that it scratched all of my itches as is.

Forgive Me These November Days by @obstinate-questionings

Why Chloe Beale didn’t graduate—and why she finally did—as told through yearly celebrations of Thanksgiving.

This fic made me take the first step into loving myself. imho it's one of the best Chloe Beale character studies out there and I genuinely can not stop thinking about it. If you're having a rainy day and need a pick-me-up, I definitely recommend reading this!

[edward-munson]

i'm right here - E.M. * Chapter Four

Warning: slight mentions of blood, mentions of the Upside Down, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! Harrington reader

Word count: 3.6k

⋆˚✿˖°

After that day, Eddie decided he wouldn't doubt you anymore, or even confront you the way he did. And then, there were days he would sit during the breaks with you and tell you silly jokes just to make you laugh. He would always compliment you and sometimes, when he would feel less nervous, he would also touch your cheekbones with gentleness.

And he also decided trying to ask you out for dinner, or to watch a movie with him. He wanted to be closer to you, feel you surrounding him. He wanted you to be his date whenever he would want to go out. For dinner, Eddie would probably avoid the usual fancy restaurants and take you somewhere quieter, like a diner with a jukebox in the corner, or a local pizza place with a wall full of band posters. Which totally matches his vibes.

He'd slip into the booth across from you, offering you the most random recommendations on the menu,while joking about how he says he’s the “food critic”. You'd get to share greasy fries and a stack of burgers, laughing at his antics. He'd talk about his band, the Hellfire Club adventures, and the books he likes to read.

When it's time for the movies, he would want something that matches his vibe too, maybe a horror one or a classic action movie.  He'd sneak you into the theater or make sure you get the best seats, perhaps even bringing along a bag of his own “special” snacks, like candy from a store he swears no one else knows about. He’d keep constantly commenting throughout the film, making you laugh and cringe with his sarcastic remarks and random trivia.

After the movie, he might take you on a little trip through the town, showing you places that are special to him, showing you the hidden spots where he plays his guitar or cool alleyways with graffiti murals. And then, when you think the night couldn’t get any better, Eddie invites you to join his Dungeons & Dragons campaign. You'd sit with him and his friends, surrounded by dice, snacks, and a bunch of exotic characters. As the Dungeon Master, he would lead you through an epic fantasy world, offering you a chance to create your own character and help him with his quests.

He'd get so into his role that you’d find yourself admired with excitement, laughing at his exaggerated voices for the game or his dramatic descriptions of monster encounters. Between turns, Eddie would glance at you, his eyes sparkling, making sure you’re having a good time, assuring that you’re having a good time with him. And then, he would give you a ride and drop you off your porch, trying to swipe off the feeling of wanting to kiss you like that other day.

The thing is, he was still pretty reluctant, because he still didn’t want to bring you into the mess that was his life. Even though you assured him it wasn’t a problem for you. The inside of the van smells like him, as always. You’ve grown accustomed to his smell and you kinda love it. Eddie's been joking around, you’re both still talking about the campaign you played for the first time and how you actually enjoyed being a part of it, but then, without warning, Eddie pauses mid-sentence.

You look over him, concerned. His hand flies to his nose, his expression shifting from playful to surprised.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?” You ask with concern in your voice. His hand is shaking as he wipes at his nose.

His eyes widen as he pulls his hand away, revealing a stain of blood spread across his fingers.

“Shit” Eddie mutters under his breath, leaning his head back against the seat and blinking in surprise. “It’s nothing. Just a little nosebleed. Happens sometimes”

You’re not convinced, seeing how pale his face became, the way his breath sounds a little heavier. It’s the second time it has happened, ever since he came back from fighting off Vecna. But it’s something he has never shared with anyone, not even to Gareth and Jeff.

“Eddie…” You lean forward, holding his wrist carefully “Let me help you.”

His grin falters as he nods, clearly not wanting to make a big deal of it. You reach over, grabbing a bandana from the glove compartment and gently pressing it against his nose. It might be one of his favorites, but there aren't any options left. Eddie winces at the touch but doesn’t protest. His eyes flicker to you, grateful you're beside him.

“We should probably head inside, okay? I’m not gonna let you sit out here like this” You sound pretty confident, but the worry in your eyes is impossible to miss.

He gives a half-hearted nod, murmuring something about how it's "nothing serious," but he doesn’t argue. You both step out of the van, and you help him toward your house with his arm around your shpulder for balance. His steps are slow, a little unsteady, but you’re there to guide him.

You lead him to the couch, easing him down carefully. He plops down with a sigh with the bandana still pressed against his nose, the bloox soaking it. You kneel in front of him, gently moving it aside to get a better look. You're caught off guard when you notice he lacks confidence.

“You sure you’re okay, Eddie?” You ask again, looking around for a small piece of cloth.

He nods weakly but doesn’t speak, his eyes lowered. Honestly, he's not really quiet, so it bothers you too see him look vulnerable.

“Just… bad day, I guess,” He finally says and shrugs. “It’s just… Stress. Things are fine, but sometimes, they’re not”

You sit down next to him, your concern not just for the nosebleed but for him in general. He’s always been the tough, devil-may-care guy, but you can tell things have been bothering him, which is something deeper than just blood and bruises.

You take his hand gently in yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me, Eddie. I’m here. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to deal with it alone” 

Eddie looks at you, his lips turning into a half smile, but his eyes are tired. He doesn't want to look embarrassed in front of you “Yeah. Just don’t tell the guys, okay? They’d never let me hear the end of it”

You grin, offering him a reassuring glance. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

You take care of him quietly, watching over him until the bleeding finally stops, cleaning him up with care. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t push you away. It’s like the whole world slows down for a moment, and it’s just you and him, sharing something that goes beyond words or jokes.

After a few minutes, Eddie takes a deep breath, looking up at you. His eyes are still soft, still a little dazed, but there's a flicker of gratitude there.

“Thanks for… you know. For not making me feel like a total mess” He says with a tired smile, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. You’ve said it before, he should’ve looked for help, but he thought he could’ve handled it by himself. 

You sit down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “There’s no need to thank me. You’d do the same for me.”

He nods, his hand finding yours again as he leans back, looking at you with a quiet appreciation. He notices the small spark in your eyes, the way they flicker to look at him from a better angle. And it hits him. His stomach churns and he suddenly feels like the floor opened a giant hole right under him. His shoulders are tense, too, like he’s bracing for something.

“Eddie?” You ask softly, noticing how stiff he’s become. He doesn’t respond immediately, his focus still locked on a blank space. You see him tapping the armrest incessantly.

“Hey, you good?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes at first, and you know immediately that something’s wrong. He inhales sharply, his chest rising and falling, and his voice comes out almost too quiet when he finally speaks.

“I... I don’t know. I think... I think I’m seeing him again.”

Your stomach drops. It’s the Upside Down again. The stories he’s shared with you, the trauma that still lingers in his eyes even though he tries to brush it off. He’d never say it out loud, but you know Vecna haunts him in ways words can’t describe it.

“Eddie…” You murmur, your hand moving to his shoulder. “You’re safe here. You’re with me. It’s just us.”

But Eddie shakes his head, his eyes wide with fear. His breath is becoming shallow, quicker. He tugs at his hair, his fingers trembling as if he’s trying to pull himself out of something. “No, no, I… I can see him. I can feel him. He’s watching me again.”

His gaze shifts through the room, and you can see it now, the terror that’s taking a hold of him, the panic tightening his chest. You’re no longer looking at the Eddie you know, the confident, rebellious metalhead. Instead, you’re seeing someone deeply vulnerable, consumed by the horrors that still play in his mind.

“Eddie. Look at me. Look at me, okay?” Your lips quiver as you talk to him.

He finally meets your eyes, but it’s not the same Eddie you’re used to seeing. His pupils are dilated, his face pale, his breath is quick and uneven. His lips tremble, and his hands shake uncontrollably in his lap. The panic is consuming him, and the last thing you want is for him to feel like he’s alone in this. You’re not going to let him spiral.

“You’re safe. You’re not in the Upside Down” You nervously say, trying to pull him back to reality. “This is my house. This is real. You’re here with me.”

Eddie’s hand grips yours tightly, like he’s desperately holding onto something solid in a world that feels like it’s slipping away. “I can hear him, though. His voice… his voice, it’s in my head. It’s everywhere” 

His breath quickens again, and he seems to shrink in on himself, as if he’s trying to make himself smaller, like he can't escape the weight of Vecna’s presence. You can feel the panic in the air now. It’s heavy, suffocating, and you know you need to do something, anything, to help him find his way back from the brink of it. You lean in closer, your voice soft but unwavering.

“Eddie” You say gently, taking his face in both of your hands. His skin is damp, his pulse hammering beneath your fingers. “You’re not alone in this. I’m with you. I’m right here. We’re going to get through this together.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the fear, but it’s still there, gnawing at him. You keep your hands on his face, trying to guide him to breathe with you. You repeat the cycle, keeping your eyes locked on his, your voice calm.

“Breathe in with me. In for four, hold for four, and out for four.”

It takes a moment before he follows, his breath coming in a little slower. His hands are still shaking, but his eyes have softened just slightly, as if he’s focusing on your words, trying to steady himself in the rhythm of your breathing. You guide him through it, over and over again, not rushing, not pushing, just staying present with him.

It’s not immediate, but gradually his breathing begins to even. You see him relaxing his shoulder as his hands loosen their tight grip. The panic that was so suffocating is starting to leave his traces, replaced by the presence of your voice and the safety of your touch. You can see it in his eyes, he’s starting to come back to you, back to reality.

When his breathing finally slows down, Eddie exhales shakily and leans his head back against the couch. His eyes flicker to you, and there’s a mix of relief and fear in them. He’s still trembling, his hands fidgeting restlessly, but he’s no longer trapped in the vision of Vecna.

“You’re okay” You say quietly, your hand resting gently on his arm. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”

Eddie nods slowly, his voice rough as he whispers, “I don’t know how you do it. How you… how you stay so calm when I’m freaking out like this.”

You give him a small smile, your thumb rubbing gentle circles over his wrist. “Me neither. But I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

For a moment, Eddie just sits there, his eyes searching yours, like he’s trying to escape the overwhelming feeling he was having minutes ago. Finally, he exhales a quiet, shaky laugh escaping him.

“Guess I’m lucky you’re here”

You squeeze his hand gently. “Yeah. You are”

You stay beside him, holding him and making sure he’s okay. You don’t intend to leave him alone tonight, even if he denies the invitation. Even if he tells you he doesn’t need to sleep there, you still want him to, because you know he’s still vulnerable and scared. And it’s not like he can’t fight it off, it’s too hard to forget something like that anyway.

As you watched him slouched on your couch, looking up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but hover your finger at the scars near his arm, near his neck. 

You do it for the first time since he had told you about everything. Because that’s the evidence of him fighting for his life out there. It’s not the only one, but it’s the most important one. He looked up at you, his eyes glancing between your hand and your face. There was no protest, no hesitation from him, watching as he slowly exhaled and let you do whatever you wanted to.

One of them was spread through his wrist, and you felt the texture of it, rugged skin underneath your fingertips. Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed at your touch, his breath hitching for a moment. His hand, which had been resting on his knee, relaxed. And then he let his fingers graze yours. It was subtle. He let you touch him.

You didn’t stop. Your touch was slow, gentle, as if you were treating him like something fragile, something precious. Your fingers moved across his skin, tracing its edges, until you reached his neck. He didn’t speak, but his gaze softened. There was something in the quiet between you two, something that made the whole world outside feel small.

He didn’t need to explain, didn’t need to tell you how hard it had been. The scars said it all. But in that moment, you wanted him to know that you saw him. Not the Eddie that everyone laughed at or feared, but the one who had lived through things no one else could even begin to imagine. You let your fingers slide over his neck carefully, feeling the way it pulled tight against his skin.

You felt how he shivered under your your fingertips, but in a good way. He felt himself in a moment of pure bliss, having you like that. Something he had never felt with Chrissy, surprisingly. On the other hand she never went out of her way to actually care about his vulnerability. Because she never intended to anyway.

It was impossible to ignore the weight of it, the weight of everything he had survived. The scars were not just reminders of the Upside Down, but of the battle within himself, the fight to come back, to survive, and to still be here, sitting beside you. Eddie didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch at the touch. Instead, he closed his eyes again, his lips parting in a shallow breath.

For a moment, he was just sitting still, his hand resting on his knee but his fingers moving just enough to touch yours in return. It was a silent understanding between you two, something that needed no words.

Your hand lingered, brushing the scars with tenderness, wishing you could take away the pain that remained buried in them. But all you could offer was this moment. Your touch. Your silence. Your understanding. Eddie’s fingers wrapped lightly around your wrist, not to pull away, but to hold on. It wasn’t a desperate grip, but one of quiet trust, as though he was telling you that he didn’t have to carry it all alone for once. 

Eddie thought he was gonna be restless again, that he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes and sleep. You both lied in your bed in your bedroom. You could hear his quiet breathing, the gentle rhythm of it. It wasn’t like the nights when he would wake up in a cold sweat, trapped in nightmares that left him gasping for air. Tonight, he seemed immune from that darkness, as if the weight of the Upside Down had momentarily loosened its grip on him.

His body relaxed against yours, the warmth of him a comforting presence. His head rested against the pillow, his hair was messy and you couldn't help to reach out instinctively, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, your touch gentle and soothing. He didn’t stir, didn’t wake, but the subtle shift in his breathing told you everything you really needed to know. That he was finally at peace. His face, usually so full of worry or guarded, was softened in his sleep.

The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly, as if he was dreaming of something good, something that wasn’t twisted by fear or sorrow. You could almost imagine that. Eddie was dreaming of something simple, something light. The kind of dreams he deserved but had been denied for so long. For hours, Eddie slept soundly, his body fully relaxed, his face free of the tension that usually weighed him. His breath, steady and slow, was the only sound in the room.

No nightmares. No lingering thoughts of the Upside Down. Just sleep, deep, restful, uninterrupted sleep. You woke up in the morning to find him still beside you, his face soft and content, a quiet smile playing on his lips. He had slept through the night without waking up, without the usual battles of his mind pulling him back into the darkness. For the first time as long as he could remember, Eddie had slept like he was meant to, without fear, without the ghosts of the past.

You woke up again a couple of hours later, feeling the other side of the bed empty. It was cold to the touch and you immediately opened your eyes in desperation. You were scared he left you after what happened the other night, even though he seemed to be having a good night of sleep for the first time in a long time.

As you sat up in a rush, you could smell the coffee. It could be Steve, or it could really be Eddie. You really wished it was Eddie. You slowly walked out of the bed towards your bathroom, doing your morning routine. As you were making your way downstairs, you could see his boots sitting on the living room floor. It's definitely him.

Eddie poured the coffee into two mugs, one of them being his favorite. A Star Wars one with the chipped rim. The one he gave you back when you moved out, even though you'd bought it for him. Turns out it broke during the way to Hawkins, and when he saw it for the first time, he couldn't believe you were still using it.

"Hey, coffee's ready" Eddie called softly as he set the mugs on the table.

Your hair was still a bit messy, and your face was still smushed from sleelping too much. A few strands falling over your face, and you wore one of his old band t-shirts. As you reached for the mug, your fingers brushed against his.

He didn't know if his heart was racing because of the moment, or if it was because of what happened the night before. Tracing the edge of the mug with his thumb, he hesitated for a moment, biting his lower lip casually. He had never been good with words, especially when it came to expressing his feelings. But he needed to tell you how much last night had meant to him.

"You know" Eddie cleared his throat lightly "I- I just wanted to thank you. For… well, for last night. You didn’t have to do what you did, but you did. And I don’t think I could’ve made it through without you."

You glanced up at him softly, extending your arm so you could reach out to his hand and grab it. "You don’t need to thank me, Eddie. I’m just glad I could be there."

As if he was feeling urgent, he shook his head and rubbed circles on your skin with his thumb "No, I do need to thank you. You were calm. You knew exactly what to do when I was completely losing it. It means more to me than I can even explain"

"You don’t have to explain anything. I just… I care about you, Eddie. I always want to be there for you, like no one ever could" You felt your heart thumping against your ribcage and your skin was on fire.

You watched as he lowered his head and chuckled lightly, a gentle smugness washing over his face. Eddie took a long sip of his coffee, feeling the warmth spread through him, both from the drink and the feeling he couldn't quite place yet. It was obviously more than a friendship, it was more than just something casual, this is love with more meanings than he can ever explain.

⋆˚✿˖°

@thegirlthatsfalling @strangemaximoff @readergf @sheneedsrocknroll92

[orieriee]

Chapter 4 ✦ Light or Darkness?

prev | masterlist | next

Sypnosis: Y/N L/N is a special shaman from a jujutsu family. Y/N was sent to Tokyo to go on missions to prove their worth as the next heir. With the ability of 'flow', a cursed technique that allows its user to see and manipulate forces of energy freely. Y/N stumbled across Geto Suguru amidst a dark aura, carrying a weight of chaotic and dark energy. Will Y/N be able to help Geto overcome his turmoil? Will Y/N fulfill the lifelong anticipation and succeed in becoming the next heir?

Time setting: 2007, a year after Amanai Riko's death, before Geto Suguru's breaking point. gn!reader. I use they/them pronounce for neutrality.

Disclaimer: This will be a slight crossover with chainsaw man because I needed a mentor figure who is not known in Jujutsu Kaisen. I do not own any of the characters from Jujutsu Kaisen or Chainsaw Man. The characters belong to Gege Akutami as the creator of Jujutsu Kaisen and Tatsuki Fujimoto as the creator of Chainsaw Man. I only own the story plot of this work of fiction. I will also mix in a written story for the plot so it's not just the SMAU story. Also english isn't my first language so excuse any grammar errors in the story (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

"Good morning." the morning of your mission, you were waiting for Geto in front of the train station, "Ready to depart?"

"Why are you wearing... Such clothes?" Geto looked perplexed at your traditional yet fancy attire. Let's say it's similar as Geto wearing a Gojo-kesa in jjk but it's more inspired by Inuyasha's clothing with modification. Such attire would attract attention in the modern day of jujutsu kaisen.

"It looks more convincing that I'm a traveling monk-shaman, does it not?" you beamed, shaking your staff a bit to show off the ringing sound of the bells.

"At least the villagers will be convinced." Geto sighed.

"By the way, here's your sweets. I got a few types of candies that are popular in the area of my mission." you handed him a bag of sweets and patted him on the back, "Well then, let's go."

Amidst the hurried footsteps of the train station, Geto found myself lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. Depressing thoughts clawed at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to consume him. He's on the brink of darkness, his moral compass has wavered, slowly carrying a malicious intent towards non-sorcerers little by little.

The sound of the train rumbled in the background but you can only notice the silence coming from Geto as you rambled on little things about your previous mission.

"Geto, are you listening?" you realized his gaze wasn't right the whole ride, seemingly just out of it. Just like the time when you two first met at the train on the way back to Tokyo.

"Hm? Yeah what was it again?" he gave a masked smile.

You weren't convinced. With your cursed energy's ability, flow, you are able to sense people's state of cursed energy. Whether they're stable or unstable. And right now, even though Geto smiled, his energy is screaming in agony.

With a soft smile, you reached out a hand. "You don't have to pretend with me," you speak softly. "It's clear to me that your mind is in turmoil. I won't pester you to tell, but you don't have to face your demons alone.".

"... You can tell?" Geto was a bit surprised that you could read his mood, "Well, you did say you can read people like an open book."

"I've been wondering about my existence and goals a lot." Geto opened up a little, "Going on a mission like this, all seemed like a symptomatic treatment rather than a causal treatment to terminate all cursed spirits."

"That's why you've been thinking about creating a world where cursed spirits doesn't exist, right?" you connected the dots.

"... Yes. Sorcerers should be able to live without fear of cursed spirits like non-sorcerers. But all we do is clean up after their mess." he acknowledged his twisted mindset, "It would be better if all non-sorcerers are gone so we wouldn't need to suffer loss."

"..." you looked down at your feet, trying to understand such mindset of someone who's slowly spiraling down the path of evil.

"Say, Geto. Why did you become a sorcerer in the first place?" you asked, curious about the reason why he joined jujutsu high.

"... The strong must protect the weak. Though now I don't know." he admitted with a nonchalant look on his face.

"So in your mind, you think of sorcerers as the strong ones and non-sorcerers are the weak?" you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, finding the idea a bit absurd.

"We simply exist to eliminate curses caused by non-sorcerers and protect them." Geto went poker-faced as he admitted it.

"Then, let me ask you this. Which one is stronger, light or darkness?" you questioned, leaving him a bit dumbfounded by the sudden random question.

"Well, it might depend on the scenario." Geto took a moment to answer the question.

Your smile slipped as his answered succeeded your expectation.

"Right? Just as darkness may seem capable of engulfing a single light, so too can a bright light illuminate even the darkest depths of darkness." you quoted, "But light and dark exist to create balance. Light without darkness would be blinding, overwhelming in its brilliance. Darkness without light would be oppressive, suffocating in its obscurity."

"You understand my analogy, don't you?" you smiled at him. Geto's face expression relaxed a little, trying seemingly understanding the conveyed message.

"Well, I don't know what you've been through but like you said, if the strong must protect the weak, then when you choose to become the strong one then you have chosen to help people in need. You chose to become a jujutsu sorcerer in the end." you reassured him, "You could've chosen to be the 'weak' and turn your backs on the jujutsu world. There are many of those with the ability to become a jujutsu sorcerer but chose to be regular people instead, kid. But you didn't. And you're not alone in this." you gave him a reassuring pat on the back/the head.

"Aren't you about the same age as me?" Geto smiled softly as he finds it funny that you talk like an elderly.

"You may be a special grade sorcerer. But you're still young. Don't shoulder too much burden, it'll only make you look old faster." you laughed, helping Geto to get into a better mood.

"... Somehow I feel a bit better when I'm with you." Geto whispered in a low tone voice that you can only catch a little.

But his cursed energy flow is getting more stable so it's good to know that his mind is more at ease now.

© published on 14/01/24 by orieriee

written and published by orieriee on tumblr. Please do not copy or repost in any other platform.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Vigil 2/6

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Urban Fantasy/Magical Realism!AU (prolly more urban fantasy than magical realism tbh, but I use those pretty interchangeably)

Read on AO3 (current chapter)

Read on AO3 (from beginning)

Yes, there's more chapters now. No, I'm not actually surprised. No, I don't wanna talk about it. You guys know me and worldbuilding :-/

I DO however, want to talk about the AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, BEAUTIFUL cover art that @nephilimeq made for this story. Like...I am again screaming, crying, throwing up that someone made something like this for something I wrote. EEEEEEEEEEEEE

God, people are so talented.

Magic was a rare gift.

Even the most generous studies estimated that only something like ten percent of the human population had the potential to harness it, and to be able to use it effectively took years and years of study and apprenticeship. Many found the process so arduous, the physical and mental discipline that casting required so exhausting, that they abandoned their studies before they could be fully licensed and recognized. A fully trained and licensed wizard could basically write their own ticket in life, with few exceptions. Wizards were forbidden from seeking public office or holding inherited titles, of course. Military service was strictly regulated—although the demand in special forces was high—and government contracting was even more so. That required major political connections, and honestly no small amount of personal wealth…neither of which Tommy Kinard had ever had (or been interested in).

He’d been recruited by the Army straight of high school and signed on for the free schooling and guaranteed apprenticeship. He’d probably have been satisfied to stay in the Army, make a life out of it, but seven years in a bad batch of intelligence on the position of a sand dragon nesting ground had resulted in a medical discharge and three long, thin scars that ran from his collar bone to his upper thigh and still ached when it rained. He’d had vague notions of going the public service route after his discharge—firefighting, maybe, or nursing. Some of his old mentors had encouraged him to go into education, take on apprentices of his own.

Then his mother had gotten sick.

Their relationship was rocky, at best. He never doubted she loved him—but growing up in the family and home she’d chosen for them had not been easy. He knew all the statistics, now. Understood how hard it was for a woman to leave an abusive partner, especially women like his mother, who had given up her own education and career for the whims of a man who had never, ever deserved her devotion. Looking back, he could even point to times when she had almost gotten up the courage to do it, almost gotten them both out of the house where Tommy had always felt like he had to hide the biggest parts of himself, always felt like there was a sword hanging over the back of his neck, waiting to fall like his father’s heavy fists on his body. Almost. Still.

She loved him. He loved her. And she was sick.

Sal had been the one to convince him to start offering his services in the private sector. A licensed wizard could make a good living in the corporate world. A good enough living that it didn’t matter if his dad’s insurance was shit and he’d drank away most of what little savings they’d managed to amass anyway. A good enough living to pay for all the treatments, hospital stays, home aides, and nursing without even blinking. A good enough living to make sure her last few years were as comfortable as they could be with cancer ravaging her body.

He'd stuck with it after she finally died, having spent a few years by that point developing his reputation and professional network. Ironically, now he did have the political connections and personal wealth necessary to get his name considered for government work and contracts. He considered it, briefly, but ultimately decided to keep on as he was—as a freelance wizard, he could pick and choose the people and corporations he worked with, and his skill and power had earned him enough of a reputation that he had no fear of not being able to find a new contract if he chose to leave a position.

After all, it wasn’t like a wizard needed to fear being blacklisted. Someone else would always be happy to pay him for his skills.

Up until he’d crossed paths with the Buckley family, though, he’d never considered contracting his services exclusively.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy or endearing about Buckley Industries to Tommy. As far as he could tell, they weren’t a particularly foul corporation. They did a lot of good charity work for cancer research—especially pediatric cancer—and sponsored multiple programs that assisted low income families with getting sick children treatment. But he wasn’t naïve and they were a generational entity with offices on four continents and a valuation in the billions. He’d worked for them off and on during his mother’s illness, but it wasn’t until nearly five years after she’d died that he’d signed an exclusivity contract and the gnarliest NDA he’d ever encountered.

He'd done it mostly because the money they were offering was literally too good to pass up; at the end of his contract he’d never have to work a day in his life again if he didn’t want to. He wouldn’t even have to nominally worry about finding another job. He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t any other motivation, though.

“Why’s’t s’damn cold in here?” Evan mumbled without opening his eyes. He pushed his face further into the pillow and then groped towards Tommy blindly, reaching under the pile of blankets that covered them and patting up and down Tommy’s body until he could curl his hand possessively over Tommy’s bare hip.

Tommy chuckled, reaching over to run his hand through Evan’s morning-messy curls. “I think your exact words were, ‘quit fucking with the fireplace and get over here so you can fuck me’. Or was I imagining that?”

“Lies and slander,” Evan shot back, finally blinking his eyes open. Tommy didn’t think he would ever get tired of staring into those clear blue eyes, watching the way they immediately softened and sparkled as soon as Evan caught sight of him. Even when there was less than a foot of space between them, even when there had been considerably less than a foot of space between them only a few short hours ago…Evan always looked so damn happy to see him.

Even before they’d gotten together, Evan had always looked so damn happy to see him. He remembered telling himself that he had to be careful; that he shouldn’t let himself get too used to it. That it would be easy to become addicted to that look, that light. He hadn’t taken his own advice.

He couldn’t bring himself to care.

He closed the distance between them, sliding his hand down from Evan’s hair to cup his cheek as he kissed him. Evan’s fingers tightened on his hip, but after a moment he pulled back.

“Okay no, but seriously, why is it so fucking cold in here?” he asked petulantly, giving a dramatic shiver despite the blankets still covering them. He let out a small groan as he hitched himself into a sitting position on the bed, goosebumps instantly breaking out on his skin when the air hit him. “Oh for—babe, I’m telling you, your tower hates me.”

Frowning, Tommy sat up as well. “Evan, don’t be ridi—oh.”

Most of the eastern wall of his bedroom was taken up by a huge set of windows, spelled to look as though they’d been set with leaded glass and wrought iron. Tommy loved the way the early morning sunlight sparkled through them, casting bursts of rainbows all over the room when the angle was just right. A pair of French-style doors in the center opened up onto the wide balcony that he and Evan usually ate on whenever they stayed here, and he’d left the doors standing open last night to let the cool night breeze in. Last night the weather outside had been the ripe, wet warmth of late summer, the air heavy with the scent of thousands of flowers and fruit trees that grew wild on the grounds.

Now it was clearly the dead of winter outside. The balcony was buried in snow, and quite a bit had drifted in through the open doors, already starting to melt on the plush carpets that covered the floors.

“Yeah, oh,” Evan repeated, wrapping himself back up in the blankets with a mulish expression.

“The tower doesn’t hate you,” Tommy said, shivering a little himself now that it really registered how fucking cold it was in the room. “It just…forgets you’re not magic.” He scooted a closer to Evan, tugging at the corner of the blankets until Evan let go his deathgrip on them and he was able to pull some of them back around himself.

“See, if it was just things like forgetting to make sure there’s, you know, light switches and faucet handles whenever I stay here, I’d believe it,” Evan groused, nonetheless not resisting when Tommy slid his arm around him and pulled him closer.

He kissed Evan’s temple and pulled them both back down onto the mattress. He was about to pull the blankets back up over their heads when he hesitated, sitting back up a moment. Pointing at the large stone fireplace on the wall opposite the windows, he snapped his fingers. Instantly, a roaring fire sprung up over the logs he’d laid out the night before, but left unlit when Evan became impatient. Then he shot a significant look over at the doors to the balcony, tilting an eyebrow up expectantly.

The doors creaked shut with a distinctly guilty air. Tommy shook his head and flopped back down on the bed, pulling Evan close again. “The tower doesn’t hate you,” he said for the third time.

“Do you know how much laundry I’ve lost here? Or how many times brand new hallways have just randomly appeared when I’m leaving? Half the time it doesn’t even manifest enough furniture for me to sit on.” Evan shot a mutinous glare at the ceiling, and snuggled closer still, throwing a leg over Tommy’s and tangling their fingers together.

“I’ll talk to it,” Tommy promised. Then he sighed. “What time do we have to get back to LA?” he asked, going back to carding his free hand through Evan’s hair, delighting in the way the slightly rough curls caught around his fingers.

“We’re already in LA,” Evan muttered, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s chest. “Right?”

“Thought the metaphysical shit gave you a headache,” Tommy said teasingly.

Evan shrugged one shoulder. “Only when Albert starts getting all technical. I like listening to you explain things.” He tilted his head so he could peer up into Tommy’s eyes. “I’d listen to you talk about anything.”

Distantly, Tommy wondered if his love had any idea how casually he wielded the power to absolutely crack Tommy open right down to the core. “Good to know,” he said softly. “But I still need a time we have to be out of here.”

Evan’s face was always an open book. Every emotion he felt flickered across his handsome face, bare for all to see. Whenever he was talking about his parents, though, those expressions became…muted. Colder. Harder to parse out. He twisted out of Tommy’s arms to lie on his back, though he didn’t move back onto his side of the bed. Idly, he reached up with one hand to scratch at the skin of his opposite wrist, right over the pulsepoint.

“They’re expecting me at dinner,” he said finally. “They said Danny and Maddie were gonna be there, too, so Dad’ll probably ask you to portal Danny over sometime today.” If such a thing were possible, his face went stonier. “Jonah’s gonna be there, too.”

Tommy pressed his lips together, a dull sort of ache pulsing through him. “We knew it was coming,” he said, his voice soft and careful. Evan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose.

“I still hate it.” He glared down at the skin of his wrist, raking his nails over it again harshly.

“Hey. Hey, don’t,” Tommy said, reaching over to take Evan’s hand and drawing it close to him. He leaned up to kiss the patch of reddened skin. His lips tingled where they touched Evan’s skin, the faint, staticky pulse of magic.

None of Philip and Margaret Buckley’s children had any magical potential.

All three of them felt like magic.

Neither fact was particularly noteworthy or even all that unusual, especially in the societal circle they’d been born into. The ability to harness magic was incredibly rare. It was also not unusual that people born into the wealth and privilege that the Buckleys enjoyed would be drenched in magic. Protective runes, luck spells, little charms and blessings to enhance health, recovery time, reflexes—there were dozens, hundreds, thousands of ways that people who had enough money and access to a wizard could improve their lives. Tommy had not been shocked that the Buckley siblings had magic woven into their bodies.

No, the shock had come later, the first night he and Evan had fallen into bed together and he had the time to really explore the body that had been haunting his fantasies for longer than he cared to admit.

After he’d signed the aforementioned gnarliest NDA he’d ever seen, of course.

He didn’t think it had started as a curse, was the thing. Without knowing the wizard who had first laid it—their magical signature, the shape of their power—he couldn’t read very much in the structure of the spell that was wrapped around Evan’s wrist, right over where the throb of his pulse could be felt. It was a line of dark amber magic that always glowed faintly to Tommy’s senses. The spell was old—several generations old, at least—and decorated Maddie and Daniel Buckley’s wrists as well. A binding.

Probably meant to ensure family loyalty once. Tommy was not naïve. And Buckley Industries was a very wealthy corporation now, but he knew it had started over a hundred years ago as a family-owned investment firm. Such spells were not malicious by nature, but it was easy to turn them that way. It might have been meant to inspire loyalty once…and Tommy thought Philip and Margaret had probably convinced themselves that was all they’d intended when they had bound their children to it, one by one. Daniel, Maddie, and Evan were all very loyal to their parents and the company that they would someday inherit.

They had no choice. Not really.

The binding didn’t grant absolute control. They could still make their own decisions and choices. They could argue and rebel and talk back (and to hear Maddie and Daniel tell it, Evan had made doing all three at once into an Olympic sport when he was young). They just…couldn’t make a decision or choice that would hurt the family. Unfortunately, as the current patriarch, Philip Buckley was the arbiter of what could and could not hurt the family. To his credit, Tommy didn’t believe the man had any ill intentions towards Daniel, Maddie, or Evan. He believed that Philip believed that every time he forced his children to go along with a decision he and Margaret made for them, it was for their own good.

Roads to hell were always paved with the best of intentions.

He pressed his lips to Evan’s wrist again, before drawing him back into the circle of his arms. The spell was too old and set for Tommy to try and unbind it unless it was a matter of life and death for Evan or one of his siblings. Doing so could cause more harm than good, and he wasn’t willing to risk altering the spell in a way that would make Evan even more vulnerable. Once Daniel formally took over the company, the binding would pass to him, and Tommy knew the very first thing he’d do was release Evan and Maddie from it. That was still years away—but the promise kept all three of the siblings going.

In the meantime, though, Evan was still subject to his parents’ whims. One whim in particular, that they had both been dreading.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, though the words rang hollow in the face of what was likely to be happening tonight. “Whatever happens, you’ll still have me Evan. I love you.”

Evan swallowed harshly, closing his eyes and giving a shaky nod. “I know. I love you, too.” He looked over at Tommy, and attempted a smile. “I just wish…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I just wish we could stay here. Forever. Even if your tower hates me.”

Tommy’s heart ached with how much he wanted that. The two of them, here, safe, far away from Evan’s parents’ endless demands of him. Far away from any decision more complicated than what they wanted to have for dinner and whether they wanted to go to Maddie and Howie’s place for Christmas or host everyone here. Evan was wrong…the tower loved him. He was the favorite of anyone else Tommy had ever brought here, and it was constantly trying to find little ways to keep him here longer, nudge him closer to Tommy.

Though Tommy did probably need to have a talk with it about its methods. Tommy certainly wasn’t going to complain when the only available seat in the library for Evan was Tommy’s lap, or when the only thing he had available to wear was Tommy’s clothes, or when it was so cold in the room the only thing that made sense was to stay wrapped around each other in bed. Naked. For warmth, of course.

But yeah, his home needed to learn some subtlety. Especially if it was going to be the only place left where he and Evan could be together.

He sighed, drawing Evan closer still. He kissed him softly, running his hand down the curve of his neck and spine, splaying his hand out over the small of Evan’s back. “Well, nothing I can do about forever at the moment…but we do have at least a couple hours before we have to look presentable. Think we can find something to pass the time?”

Evan huffed a laugh and then rolled to his knees to straddle Tommy’s hips, the blankets slipping down off his shoulders. “I can probably come up with some ideas,” he said with a smirk.

Later. He could worry about what was looming on the horizon later. Right now, he had Evan here, in his arms, right he belonged. Right now, that was all that mattered.

He had no idea how much he would come to regret putting off his concerns for later.

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXX

AND THERE IT WAS. SHE HAD FINALLY SAID IT. 

That phrase she had been so reluctant to say for the past few years, the idea of her loving him had been that difficult to accept and now she finally had and it had even surprised (Name) herself. 

"You..love me..?" William repeated gently, eyes scanning her face in disbelief.

Before she could nod in confirmation, William stood up, removing his hands from hers as he stood up, prompting (Name) to do the same. 

"We can leave now, it shouldn't be too difficult. I can alert the others to be ready by dawn and-" 

"What makes you think I reciprocate your feelings?" He asked, turning to face the window 

(Name)'s jaw was agape in surprise for a moment. How foolish of her to assume that such a simple statement would be enough to convince William to escape and have a new life with her. She should have known he wouldn't feel the same, she was just a foreigner after all, an unlovable harlot with no redeeming qualities. 

"You don't." She stated, affirming the fear she had held within her battle against these feelings. 

"Why would I ever want to love you?" William glanced over his shoulder, giving her a piercing, disgusted glare. (Name) was a woman of normal stature, confident in her size, but under his gaze at that moment, she had felt undeniably small. "You're conceited, arrogant, selfish, rude - need I say more?" 

"I..." her throat felt dry as she tried to come up with a response. The walls she had fought so desperately to keep strong had fallen apart and were being destroyed by her own husband's cold words. 

William continued, still gazing out the window, only able to see (name) through its reflection. "If I must..you are unbelievably self centred, even Narcissus himself would be appalled, not to mention entitled and hypocritical. You're vain, pretentious, self- absorbed, why on earth would I love a woman like that? Even saying 'I hate you' could not accurately describe the feelings of disgust I hold against you. I despise you, and I find it humourus that you've ever loved me."

"So all this..meant nothing to you?" (Name) asked, clutching at the fabric on her dress. 

"Did it mean anything to you?" He spat back. "You've had many other men in your life, even whilst we were married." 

"That was one time!" 

"For five months! Five months I was without you, hoping, foolishly, for your safety!" He exclaimed. This was the first time she had seen him like this, a look of genuine upset on his face. This was the first time he had felt like this too. "And you were lying beneath another man, although I'm sure it wasn't the first time." 

"William!" She almost wailed. "You don't..You don't understand, we never said we couldn't be with other people. And besides, I had only kissed you twice at that point, so it's not as if you were directly affected." 

William practically rolled his eyes "Commitment actually comes with the marriage, contractual or not. But I'm sure you just couldn't help yourself." 

"Oh my god, William," She sighed in exasperation. "I just told you I love you and you react by insulting me?! I suppose I really was wrong about you. You used me for affection and my brain!" 

"As if you didn't do the same." 

"But you were the one insisting upon it!" She yelled "All those times you called me beautiful, that I felt good, that I had a pretty voice, all of that was just fake! And you have the audacity to act as though I'm in the wrong!" 

"The only on here with any sense of audacity is you." William spoke, much calmer than before. "You and I had nothing romantic going on. It was just a mutually beneficial relationship." 

"Well if you aren't going to acknowledge our far from casual relationship, perhaps you could listen to me once more." 

"Oh of course your highness, allow me to listen to your ridiculous voice describe some ridiculous point that I'm sure everyone and their mother already knew, because, of course, you are just so incredibly special." William said sarcastically. 

"I'm pregnant." 

William's eyes widened for a moment. He wanted to smile, to hold her in his arms and kiss her senseless. 

"And how am I to know if that child is mine, considering you have slept with every nobleman over the age of 20," he retorted. "That child isn't mine, regardless of what you may try to persuade me with." 

"William, please," she pleaded. "I haven't slept with anyone but you ever since I've been with you." 

"So that five month long affair didn't happen?" 

"Well, it did," she tried to defend herself "but this is recent..." she sighed "I have my heir. Do you not want to live to see him? To meet him?" 

"Him?" 

"Mother's intuition." 

"Of course." He said sarcastically once more, uncharacteristically. "Like I said, I want nothing to do with you or that child." 

(Name) stated at him in disbelief. She had now retired all methods of keeping him with her. And frankly, she wasn't even sure she wanted him anymore. 

"You're a coward," she stated. "A stupid, pathetic coward who is no longer of any use to me, or to my cause. You will die alone with nobody to love you, and I will forever curse myself for even considering, for entertaining the idea I might be in love with you. Because clearly, I'm not." 

And like that, she had stormed out, in typical (name) fashion, for the last time, not even giving him another glance.

She had left straight afterwards, taking her luggage with her. Initially, she had planned to sleep first, but it seemed she couldn't bear to sleep in the same bed that William had once used a few times. (Name) took the next carriage possible to the docks where so was supposed to board the shop soon after.

Despite the crowds of whispers regarding the Lord of crime, she had managed to board the ship fairly easily and quickly with no interruptions. She sat inside with Romeo in her lap, petting him as she waited for her parents. They followed soon after, spotting her alone. 

"You couldn't.." Her mother started. She shook her head. 

"I tried." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She winced, feeling a sharp pain in her abdomen but brushed it off. 

Once everyone had boarded the ship, and they were ready to set sail, (name) stepped outside, leaving the small kitten to sleep in her bed. It would be a long wait till she and her parents were to arrive at (home country). 

She took in a deep breath, sighing as she bowed her head, clinging to the fences around the ship. She felt that sharp pain again. Her father followed her outside, looking for her. 

"(Name)?" 

"Yes father?" 

"They might have to delay the ship, for a while..a fire's broken out," He averted his gaze, knowing how his daughter likely wanted to leave as soon as possible. "They're waiting for it to clear first.." 

"I see.." (name) hummed absentmindedly "I'll come back inside when they do." 

"It's not your fault." 

"I know." 

Her father soon left, leaving her alone. A bright light appeared along with some smoke. (Name) shut her eyes at the brightness, opening them again to see the  tower bridge, which had been recently constructed. 

She could hear people screaming from afar, and she looked up, spotting two figures, who she could barely make out from where she was standing, but she already knew. 

She felt another sharp pain, this time worst than the last. 

She saw one, who she assumed was William, charge at the other — Sherlock. He discarded his cloak, and then another explosion went off. William jumped, but was unsuccessful as Sherlock caught him by the hand, trying to pull him up as he dangled off the edge of the bridge. 

(Name) couldn't help the lump that formed in her throat, or the tears in her eyes. She wanted to scream out for him, even if he couldn't hear. She knew that was selfish, after what she had said earlier, but she could help that either. 

The pain in her abdomen just kept getting worse, forcing her to clutch her stomach and cling to the railings for support. It kept growing worse, even more so once she had seen William leap from Sherlock's grasp, right down into the Thames. The dam keeping her tears back broke, and they streamed down her cheeks. She could barely see through her tears as Sherlock jumped soon after whilst she fell to the floor, her knees giving out beneath her. 

Her father soon came back to check on her, to remind her they were leaving now as the fire had been put out. 

"(Name), are you alright?" He asked, approaching her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, noticing a pool of blood beneath her as she crouched over. 

"(Name)!"

[invisible-hand]

Chapter 12 of my @thorkibigbang fic, The Serpent's Kiss, is up! In which the couple settles into life on Jotunheim, and Loki makes a startling discovery.

We are down to the final few chapters, folks, and I'm happy to report this is now officially my most popular Thorki fic by every metric. 🥹🥹 Thanks again to @midnottart for being the best damn Bang buddy!

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

The wide corridors and high, vaulted rooms of Utgard’s palace were largely quiet and deserted at such an unreasonable hour, which allowed Loki to track the mysterious voice without the seidr noise created by all living things—and especially people—throwing him off the trail. He dragged Thor by the hand at a brisk pace, into the ever-taxing process of climbing and descending multiple flights of giant-sized stairs, through whole ruined sections of the palace where snow fell deep, until at last they trended down, down, down into rough-hewn rock.

“Do you have any idea where we may be going?” Loki asked.

When Thor gave a noncommittal hum in response, Loki looked back at him. His face was studiously blank.

“If you knew what was singing at me this whole time, I’m going to kill you,” Loki grumbled, picking up his pace down a long passage that would have been utterly black if it weren’t for the numerous witch lights he’d conjured and spelled to follow them, floating at waist height. They cast eerie shadows in the hollows of Thor’s almost glow-in-the-dark red eyes, lending him a true “monster from Asgardian campfire tales” appearance. Irritating, how endearing Loki found that.

“You did not tell me it had continued to bother you until now. And you are welcome to try, again,” Thor replied, earning a withering look.

At last they came to a heavy stone door, the surface carved with runes. 

“Oh! This must be the place, it’s been sealed with magic,” Loki said, rushing forward to sweep his mittened hands over the shapes as he deciphered them. Stopping for even a moment had his body wracked with shivers; it felt almost unnaturally cold in the ominous, black stone passage, colder than anywhere else on Jotunheim Loki had yet been.

[olasketches]

jjk ends in 5 chapters... wow.. :"))

[akkivee]

i’m just sayiiiiiiiin’ bro, there was never a world where rei thought nayuta wouldn’t be by his side as they created their ideal world, with all the struggles that came with that goal

and similarly, just as ichiro had resolved to be alone, to play the bad guy as long as he gets the means to keep his small world safe, he bonded with kuukou, who was determined to not let ichiro be alone thru all their shady shit, and was devastated when he left bc ichiro never considered kuukou wouldn’t be by his side IM JUST SAYIN

[everylevishot]

Levi #2155

Chapter 139.5 - 悪童 (Bad Boy)

What...?

[chaosduckies]

Restoration (Chapter 3)

I have no idea how I keep making the chapters even longer. I just somehow do. But, enjoy!

Word Count: 4,600

CW: Fear, mentions of death, panic attacks, reference to someone as an “it”, overthinking, slight trigger warnings

3-Nathan 

When my mom finally came home from work yesterday, I was expecting her to get her plate of dinner and sit down on the couch putting on The Golden Girls like she usually does. What I wasn’t expecting was that she’d be getting a call from my teacher Mrs. Kay. The worst part about it was that they acted like they were such friends. Joking around and laughing. Had they even met each other? Most likely if my mom had kept it a secret that Mrs. Kay actually knew what happened to us in the past. Was mom the one who put me in that horrid class? No, she wouldn’t do anything against my will. Not unless she knew I would be ready for it. 

They had talked on the phone for what seemed like hours. I was guessing Mrs. Kay was asking questions about me since my mom had mentioned me multiple times in their conversation, but I was raised not to ever eavesdrop. As I would be punished accordingly. But I wasn’t in that hell hole anymore. And I guess my fear was still pretty bad if I still thought I would be tortured for listening in on a conversation. What made anyone think I could even go to school with giants? 

When I had woken up the next morning, it was to the sweet smell of my moms famous pancakes. The one dad always loved before we were kidnapped. I cringed at the thought, but forced myself out of bed and ready for the day, putting on a light purple shirt with a button up, blue sweater my mom bought me last month, and black jeans. I never wear anything that shows my arms. For good reason too. 

I rushed down to the kitchen, where my mom had already place my plate on the very right edge of the kitchen island, giving a happy smile to me, “Morning, Sweetie.” 

“What the occasion mom?” I laughed, taking my seat and staring down the pancake on my plate. She had always made them the best. Incomparable to even IHop’s pancakes. 

“Oh well, I’m sure you can guess why. Last night I was told you were doing a little project with someone. As far as I knew you hadn’t made any friends, so I was getting worried, but now I know you were just embarrassed to tell me.” She giggled. What? Was she talking about Ryker. Oh no. No. Nononono. Not in a million years would I ever trust a giant ever again. Not after what they put my mom and I through. 

“N-No! We’re not f-f-friends.” I stuttered, suddenly feeling bad for saying it out loud. Why? I was only speaking the truth. But that didn’t leave a very satisfying taste in my mouth once the words rolled of my tongue. 

“Nate, your teacher told me some interesting things about that boy. Ryder was it? He really does sound like a nice guy. Maybe give him a chance? I know it’s hard for you honey.” She hugged me, her grip loose and weak, and planted a kiss on my forehead, giving a sad smile before digging into her breakfast. Now even my mom was saying that he was really nice. How was I supposed to believe that? For all I know all of those acts could have been acting. The little incident at lunch, him trying to talk to me, what if he was just trying to gain my trust to eventually backstab me? Just the thought was making my hands sake as I reached for my fork. I’d only have to hope that today doesn’t go wrong. 

Mrs. Kay had told Ryker and I before we left to meet in her room, or more specifically the little office that was in her classroom. It was right by the many newsletters and papers that hung on to the wall presenting various fights and political issues in the city. I try not to pay attention, but we all knew that there was a growing number of riots all around from bother giants and humans. 

I headed into her room, seeing that her room was crowded with what seemed like hundred of other students trying to find their partner. I was almost stepped on a few times had I not been practically running to get to the mini office in the back of the classroom. I guess that was just pure luck. Now I just have to hope that that luck pays off in here. 

Inside, there was a teacher desk where currently my teacher was sitting at, looking at something on her computer. I turned my gaze somewhere else, seeing that there were two student desks, both with the same elevators for a human to get on top of one. Ryker was sitting at the one on the far right. There were piles of paper on the floor that looked like it needed to be read through and put in order and graded, and some magazines with a picture of one of the people from the riots on the front cover. 

A quick glance back to the crowded room, and I was now face first with the elevator I was guessing I was supposed to take. Mrs. Kay nor Ryker even knew I was here, so if I wanted to back out and hide in the bathroom, now would be the time. Let’s see, if I did decide to hide in restrooms, someone is bound to find me and take me to the principal, but at least I wouldn’t be taken around everywhere like some pet, but my mom would hear about it and she would be mad at me. If I didn’t hide, Ryker would most likely try to keep talking to me and eventually forget I was even there. Maybe. If he doesn’t forget I’m there, he might want to mess around with my like I’m some kind of toy or plaything. 

Both options were equally as bad. A tough decision to make, but I don’t exactly want my mother to have gone through all of this trouble for me to have a “normal” life, just for me to quit not even a quarter of the way through. That was cruel. But on the other hand, it would be even more cruel to be subdued to that same torture for who knows how long again. Forget it. Everyone’s going through all of this just for me, so I’ll make sure it’s not in vain. Maybe. If I can get through this. 

I walked into the elevator, hand hovering over the same dreadful button I see everyday. I suck in a deep breath, pressing the buttons before changing my mind, and instantly regretting every single one of my choices. Wouldn’t I just be bothering these people? Ryker wouldn’t be bothered by me? As far as I know he’s already frustrated with me not even talking to him, and now I have to stick with him the entire school day in order for me to make it out alive. Maybe even literally. 

Unconsciously, I pressed my back up against the back elevator wall, sliding down and holding my head between my knees. Everything felt dizzy, and it wasn’t because of my fear of heights. Was I having a panic attack? No, I would be breathing harder and I wouldn’t be able to think. It was just a little breakdown. In front of my teacher and potential kidnapper. Great introduction for the first day, Nathan. I hissed in my head, trying to stand back up, using the railing to hold myself up on shaky legs. There were a pair of eyes on me, and oddly enough it didn’t feel like a stab right to my back. No time to think about that when I was struggling to just keep my balance. 

After struggling to regain my balance, I looked out where the elevator gate was open, revealing a huge black box I’m pretty sure was Ryker’s phone, his hand grabbing it and stuffing it in his pocket. I let out a quiet squeak as his hand moved fast, making me instinctively move back, and once again my back was pressed up against the wall. I made the wrong decision. 

My heart was beating fast, and my thoughts were all jumbled up. Any chance of thinking clearly was gone, and now I was trapped inside the elevator unless they wanted to force me out. How can I become friends with someone who was much, much bigger than I was? Would he even want to? Or was he like those sadistic jerks that just want to mess around and act like we were just toys? 

There were muffled voices outside, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying, more worried about how I would get out of here. I had calmed down enough to somewhat get thoughts through. If I make a run for it they could easily stop me. If I don't’ run they’ll force me out and punish me for not listening. Wait no- It’s a school why would they hurt a student? Were they even allowed to? Oh wait that’s off topic- 

“Hey, um, Nathan? Are you okay?” It was Ryker’s voice. Just as soft as I remember. Too bad I was not in any condition to answer. I most definitely was not okay. Not in the least, and yet I still somehow found myself in this situation. If anything, him knowing I was there only made my heart race faster and my trembling even more severe. 

The room stayed silent for a while as I calmed myself down. The first bell rang, signaling that there were five minutes until first period started, and I immediacy felt regret. I was going to make him late because I couldn’t even make it past this stupid elevator. Great. Even more guilt. But even more of a reason for me to get out. I was calmed down enough, and surprisingly I didn’t have a complete panic attack. Now the only thing I have to get past was how he would be carrying me. 

Taking one step at a time, I made my way to right in front of Ryker, occasionally tripping over my own feet and catching my balance at the last second, but I made it. I never lifted up my head, scared that I would lose any and all confidence that remained in me if we hade made eye contact. Especially when I had the feeling he would know that I was really, really terrified for my life. 

“Ryker? You can handle the rest?” I hear Mrs. Kays ecstatic voice, typing away at her computer. I jumped seeing him move his hand slightly towards me, shutting my eyes tightly and expecting for him to grab me like I used to be, or even dangled in the slightest, but it never came. To my complete and utter shock, he laid his hand palm up on the very edge of the desk, waiting for me to approach. I gulped. I had never done this before. 

I had always been grabbed or dangled around, never given the option of being held. It was either in a tight fist that usually resulted in a few broken ribs, or casually being used as a toy for kids. I shuddered at the memory. 

Still, this was a surprise. I wasn’t expecting this, and now I felt insecure about how to get on. Do I just jump? Walk? Run? I mean the guy from yesterday had just dragged me on, so this is technically my first time. He just jumped right on. Could I do the same? But Ryker knows Lucky. He doesn’t know me. Maybe only people who Ryker knows are allowed to do that. 

Curse my overthinking. 

I waited for Ryker to get impatient with me, but it never happened. His hand stayed still, never once reaching for me in anticipation. Maybe a minute had gone by. Th longest minute of my life, but that’s when he eventually gave a sympathetic look towards me, “Have you done this before?” Not willingly, no. 

I shook my head almost immediately with no hesitation, feeling terrible for making him wait this long. I dug my head in my hands, feeling all the extra wight of guilt on my shoulders. I’m ruining everything. 

“No it’s… it’s fine. Just whatever makes you comfortable.” He told me, a hint of sadness in his tone. What would he sad about?

I took shaky steps to the edge, seeing how I should do this and eventually just walking on. I mean, it worked out, but I fell face first into the fleshy surface. Somehow this wasn’t the first time that I’ve face planted into Ryker’s palm. He let out a chuckle, “You okay?” 

How do I even begin to answer? Words were not enough to express the amount of fear that was building up inside me. Not even enough to describe red my face turned from embarrassment. This was the worst feeling ever, but I still managed a weak nod before settling in the center of his hand, trying to stay away from all possible ways to fall down to my imminent death. Not something I would like to enjoy. 

He slowly stood up, grabbed his backpack and headed down the hall to his next class that really wasn’t even that far from this one. At least it wasn’t far for him. 

There were tons of students in this class, making me feel insecure and tiny. I wasn’t used to being around this many giants. Especially ones that seemed to notice me and give out looks. But they weren’t directed to me. All directed to Ryker, who just sighed and headed to his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world how others looked at him like he was some wild animal. How does he do that? 

I was expecting him to just throw me onto the desk, but he let his palm down, letting me get off safely without spraining an ankle or getting the wind knocked out of me. I would have thanked him had I not been terrified. I stood awkwardly on his desk, my thoughts a jumbled up mess. What do I do? I mean of course I have my own work to do on the computers we were given, but I was talking about what do I do now that I was on the desk. 

Ryker was pulling out a journal and a book from his backpack and placed them near me, but not so close that I jumped in fear of him dropping that onto me. He glanced in my direction, flashed a smile and dug out whatever else he needed for this class. I looked down, noticing that I was pretty much smack in the middle of his desk. I was in his way. 

Before my knees gave out on me, I hurried to the edge of the desk, and forced myself not to look down at the impossible height I was at. I felt stares, but most weren’t directed at me. I groaned to myself, hating the fact that I was being watched. They were just curious, but I’d rather not have to worry about someone constantly having me under their eye. It didn’t feel right. 

The final bell rang, and that’s when class had started. 

I didn’t even realize how shaky I was until Ryker lightly tapped on the desk in front of me, making me flinch and avert my attention to him. He flashed a sad smile, giving a thumb up as if asking if I was okay. I most definitely was not, but I forced myself to give a shaky nod and pulled out my computer. 

Every so often I would jump or react when he had moved to grab something near me or was just flipping a page. I was doing a pretty good job since I haven’t ran off yet. Not that I could without having twenty pairs of eyes on me. Otherwise, everything was going great. 

In all honesty, it really wasn’t too bad if I just did the same things over and over again. Ryker took me to his classes, I had somehow never failed to fall face first the second I took a step onto his palm, resulting in him asking if I was okay. During his classes, I moved out of his way before he ended up getting annoyed with me, which I was expecting but never came. Odd. But there was no way I was going to test his patience. It could all go downhill from there. 

For lunch, I just sat with at the table Ryker usually sits at, trying to make it easier on him. Both of us never ate lunch apparently. He sat on his phone, while I just finished up some notes from my physics class. He didn’t try to make a conversation with me, only the occasional yes or no questions. If I was okay. Did I want to move. Those sorts of things. 

What didn’t sit right with me was how he flashed me sad looks every time I moved away from him or when I jumped. It’s like he felt bad for making me feel scared. Why? It was so weird to see how he cared so much about how I felt when I cared so much about how he felt towards me. Wasn’t he annoyed with having to take care of me? I would be if I had to constantly carry about something that didn’t even look grateful for the help. 

The rest of the day was easy. He had his seventh period off, taking us to the library along with four other people who were currently playing Uno. He let me on the ground where there was an entrance to the human side of the library, telling me that I was probably tired of being around him all day and I could have some time alone if I wanted to. 

So now here I was in a quiet library where two teachers were talking about something and I just sat here trying to stay calm. Only forty more minutes and I was free. Eight more school days and I wouldn’t have to do this ever again hopefully. Good. I could barely keep up with one day, let alone the rest of the school year? Nope. I do not want that on my to-do list. 

It was three minutes before the bell rang, and I decided not to keep Ryker waiting like this morning. It was rude, and I really didn’t want him to be late because I couldn’t even get on his hand without going under a breakdown. I’m just lucky he hasn’t even mentioned anything about this morning. 

I walked back into the library, seeing that the people who were playing Uno already left for class while Ryker was sitting down on the couch reading that same book he took out this morning. He didn’t seem bothered at all. Well, that might change after carrying me around for two weeks. 

I looked around, trying to find a way to get on the table or really anything to stand up on for him to see me, but there was nothing. There were no elevators in this library. Heck. What do I do now though? The bell’s going to ring soon and Ryker doesn’t even realize. Of course everything has to go downhill right when it’s almost the end of the day. Life hates me. 

  Yelling was under no circumstance an option. Getting closer to him wasn’t either. I’d just have to hope he realizes soon enough. And luckily, he closes his book and looks towards the door that leads to the human side and sees me. Good. I was not about to yell for him to notice me. Not at all. 

He shoved the book in his backpack before standing up and walking slowly towards me, but I couldn’t stop the quiet squeak that escaped my mouth. He was tall. Really, really tall. Even for a giant. How did I not realize this sooner? My breath hitched in my throat as I looked down to the ground. Seeing him sitting at a desk was one thing, but him standing up to his full height while I was on the ground? Not something I wanted to see. 

He must have caught on because he crouched down, holding a hand out. Either that or he just wanted to get going. I hurried on, hoping he wouldn’t catch that I was trembling extremely violently. 

“Sorry. Were you waiting long?” He asked me. I bit the side of my cheek, shaking my head. I lied. 

As soon as the last class of the day started, Mrs. Kay walked in looking cheery as always, “How’d everyone’s day go?” She had asked, earning a few answers from students. Apparently they all had a great time. It’s because they were already friends and used to this. 

“I’m glad you all enjoyed it. Today is a free day, so finish up whatever work you have in other classes or talk with your partner. Get to know one another.” 

The whole room was bustling with bright conversation while I still couldn’t even say one word to Ryker. A part of me really wanted to. I mean, I was being rude by not actually giving any effort at all to talk, but at the same time I feel like I would just be more annoying to him. 

Mrs. Kay came over to us, smiling and keeping her posture as she checked on students as she came down the isle. I winced, already knowing what might happen. She’s going to tell us to talk. Ryker has only asked me simple questions today, and I always either nodded my head or shook it. Meaning I haven’t spoken a single word to him for the week and half. Honestly, I was kind of jealous that others could laugh and joke around with their partners while I couldn’t so much as open my mouth to speak. Some great partner, huh?  

“How did today go you two?” 

I didn’t bother looking, too embarrassed to answer. Ryker was about to complain to her about everything that was wrong with me and there was nothing I could do about it. Because he isn’t wrong, even if I don’t know what he’ll say. I was weak, pathetic, scared, my bones were even more breakable than a normal humans because of how many times they’ve been broken in the past, I was a lot shorter than the average human, I wasn’t strong. You’re broken. That last thought hangs in the back of my mind and leaves a sour taste on my tongue. 

Who knew, maybe he would get an actual partner that could keep a conversation with him. Or to entertain him long enough. Just get me out of here already so I can- 

“It was good.” Was all Ryker answered with, and I could somehow hear the smile on his face. 

I didn’t know if this was some kind of trick or not, but if it is, then it’s awful. He has to be lying. There has to be something he can say other than “it’s good.” Seriously. I’m pretty sure Ryker grew tired of my at some point in time. 

“And how about you Nathan?” The question directed to me. 

What do I answer? “I didn’t die?” Or “All my limbs are intact.” Or my body answers for me instead, nodding shakily as I eye the elevator door. Maybe I could get out of here? No one would notice, and as long as Ryker wasn’t looking I could just slip away… No. There’s only about twenty minutes left of class. I can hopefully survive until then. 

“Have you two talked at all?” Mrs. Kay asked, a hint of anxiousness in her tone. It’s because she knows from my mom. That’s what my mom was talking to her about. How I reacted to being around giants. Great. Because I needed more people trying to figure out what was wrong with me. 

I didn’t bother knowing if Ryker nodded or shook his head. I hated my overthinking. So, so much. All terrible possible outcomes, and that’s all I can think about. That I’ll never live the life I used to live ever again. That no one will figure out whatever was wrong with me. That I’ll never be able to trust a person again. I miss the days when dad would just lie down with me on the cold, metal floor of our cage and keep telling me everything was alright when nothing was. 

Wait. 

Why was I talking about that? 

I wish my overthinking would just go away. 

“Hmm. Alright. I said these next two weeks would be fun, and I have the best idea for that.” She giggled, but I could hint that little bit of worry hidden in her words. This wasn’t going to end well for me. 

She walks up to the front of the room, “I really wasn’t planning on everyone getting along so well right away, but this is apparently a faster class, so, here’s a little fun I’ve thought of!” She started off, “I want you to go to to each other’s houses. Or, more specifically your bigger partner.” She joked, and a couple laughed along. 

But this wasn’t funny to me. Apparently not to Ryker either. We both stared wide-eyed at our teacher, probably both wondering the same thing. Why did she do this?

There really was no way out of this. I thought I would pass by these next eight days with just having to deal with school, but now I have to go to his house? What would his parents think of me? I’m literally bothering him afterschool and that’s probably his time to destress and not be bothered by anyone, which was the complete opposite of what I’d be doing. 

“Now, it can be anytime between now and next Friday. You are not required to stay over for the night, but I would like either one of your parents to sign off, proving that it happened. If there are any problems, please take it up with me after class.” 

She smiled, and sat down at her desk, probably making the slips we were now supposed to get signed by either one of our parents. But, as I looked back to Ryker, he didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look happy either. His hands were clenched into fists, he was biting the inside of his cheek, and I did not like how close his hands were to me. 

Soon enough, the class was filled with excited conversation again. I somehow worked up the courage to turn around, and Ryker was staring out the window, and then his eyes met mine, making me jump. Great turn of events. I wasn’t expecting that. 

“How do you feel about being in a house with five other people?” He awkwardly asked, worry encasing every word he said. I quickly shook my head. No. Five people? So him… his parents… does that mean he has two other siblings? Oh heck. No. No this cannot be happening. I can’t even handle one person let alone five? 

Ryker gave a sad smile, “Sorry litt-… Nathan. I’ll just tell her afterschool that you don’t feel comfortable with this. I’m not going to force you.” 

I had no idea what he was going to call me before, but I didn’t care. I was more shocked at how he willingly offered to tell Mrs. Kay for me that I couldn’t do this. Why?

Maybe he wasn’t that bad after all. 

—————————————

Wow. That’s long. But thank you for reading! I hope you’re all enjoying reading this just as much as I am writing it! I promise the next chapter will really explain a lot. For now, enjoy this last-minute drawing I did of Nathan.

[travalerray]

was reading my first ever MDZS fic and pfft.

[nebuladreamz]

hey guys you should go get Indigo Park and support the team to get chapter 2

[nerevarswritingstuff]

TIaF Edits Teaser - Chapter 18

“Assault?” Miss Lihua holds her arm out, stepping to block you further from Red Son. “Little torch, this is the one who you said attacked you?”

Little torch??

“Obviously, Mother Lihua!” He wildly gestures to you. “They must be punished for their wrongdoing!”

Mother Lihua????

“Wait. Can—can someone explain what the hell is going on right now?” You ask suddenly, waving to both of them for their attention. “Why did he just call you ‘Mother Lihua’? And—how do you even know him??”

Miss Lihua looks between you and Red Son, holding her hands in front of her and taking a breath. She says, “An explanation of that caliber will take much too long, I’m afraid. The most I can tell you right now, without needing to sit down and answer all your questions I know you’ll have, is that I helped Lady Iron Fan raise him.”