#they were mad about it at first but they both eventually embraced it and NAILED the roles down SO WELL/gen

[selfindulgentfandomstuff]

With regards to my last reblog:

These bitches

My brothers were basically forced, by their drama teacher, to play these guys in their drama’s Alice In Wonderland play and my GOD it was SO FUCKING FUNNY I’m not even gonna pretend like I didn’t enjoy the fuck out of it-

and I don’t even mean that in a “haha my siblings are suffering” sorta way. They genuinely did a STELLAR acting job, the both of them !!!

And yknow how the Tweedles are like. Short and round? Well my brothers are comically tall and skinny which actually made their portrayal of the characters WAY funnier than it had any right to be istg I wish I had videos for you guys 😭😭😭

[infernal-general]

Actually I have been thinking about this very specific thing for days because it truly nails the ‘veiled’ side of Rozália's character. And the answer to that rhetorical question is not pretty the slightest.

The short answer: It is her. Although somewhat enhanced by the Hellfire, but at the very core it is HER.

The long answer: The complete explanation is defined by four parts

1. Undeniably, she is possessed by a vicious entity against her will.

2. Rozália has been betrayed, abused, hurt by people (mostly men) in positions of authority

3. She had never known peace as a human, nor in the afterlife. War is a state of existence she got used to.

4. Her last deed which both rewired her mindset and core values also led to her death was to topple an absolutist monarchy.

Her struggle with the Hellfire actually started with her first breath, it only became prominent in the afterlife. In a host, the power gained semi sentience, hellbent on taking over the body by destroying the mind to commit atrocities of how, when, against who It wanted. Rozália only knew she was possessed, crucial why hasn't been revealed, told; as a result she was alone with this violent entity for decades, literally fighting fangs and talons for every ounce of control over her own mind and body. She always prided herself on her perfect physical health and being in tune, harmony with her movements, even if they were gravity defying. She managed to overcome by now and gain control but it doesn't erase the horrors she faced that drove her half mad and still heavily impacts her psyche. From this ordeal stems buried, low burning, the most dangerous anger and feeling of betrayal.

Betrayal is a recurring theme in every stage, part of her life, overall seven in the span of her life, starting with her mother who made deal which filled her with Hellfire, without having a say or a choice in the matter, in her own fate. Betrayed by her father in a form of lack of protection even when she needed it, betrayed by the Vatican after years worth of religious trauma. She quite literally had to fight and kill to escape those situations which eventually led her into the Revolution of 1848.

Rozália had never known peace. She lived to survive, the slaughter often senseless or simple revenge. The revolution gave her a cause, shone light onto what she always desired: freedom. She gained a truly selfless cause to fight for, freedom, equality, brotherhood. The mantra ingrained into her brain, heart and soul yet she was still and always a ruthless fighter, a brilliant tactician. An invaluable ally, a devastating enemy. She found her ultimate purpose and with it came resistance, pride and never ending violence.

Now throw that enlightened hussar general with freshly gained sense of self and taste of freedom down to Hell and tell her she now serves a system she died to destroy. Spice it with demonic possession.

The even longer conclusion: She fought such a long, exhausting battle for the autonomy of her body and mind against a pure demonic entity AND ultimately won the fight. Combined with losing parts of her literal soul as the yearly cleanses went on shows exactly how strong her spirit, her psyche is. That despite all, even to this day Rozália can act perfectly civil, courteous and is still capable of genuine love & care; while others would've long succumbed to unstable madness. She was bent, parts ripped out, twisted, tortured but never broken. Never lost sight of the hussar general she once was, despite embracing the Wielder of the Hellfire title. As her headcanon tag reads in translation: ‘I don't know what I am, but I know who I was.’

Rozália is rebellious and incredibly resilient if we fully acknowledge her human life, her curse and her death combined. Parts of her soul she has lost when wounded by blessed weapons in order to heal were the ‘weaker’ parts, leaving her with her most vicious traits that still fight the process happening within. Her bloodlust, her rage, her vengeful nature, her cruelty, her viciousness, her willingness to cross any boundary -set for a very select few- necessary without regret for her military campaign or personal vendetta to succeed is General Rozália Véghváry.

She is ruthless, sadistic, actually much smarter than most people give her credit for due to fitting into the arrogant military officer stereotype. She takes enjoyment in administering torture (which can last years, in her killer's case 170+ years), especially if her victim was someone previously looked down on her/dismissed her as a threat. She isn't above killing, torturing family members either, if it causes more pain to her victim. Betray her once and she will take you apart piece by piece with utmost pleasure.

Would she be this way without the Hellfire? Yesnt. The circumstances and the semi sentient curse played a large role in how she is now, but she comes from war. Even though it was for a noble cause, that had to protected by every means necessary. What a child accidentally suffocates in her hold while trying to keep their crying muffled so it doesn't cost her whole army's cover blown? A painful necessity, but a necessity nevertheless.

Rozália is a ticking bomb ready to explode. She knows freedom will only be achieved by a second death, so be it. But she will take as many to the grave as she can with her as her curtain call. Resentment, rage, loss, emotional turmoil and trauma has built up an unavoidable scorching tidal wave. That being said and cemented, she isn't gone completely. Too stubborn for that. She's still capable of love, forming genuine bonds, acting purely selflessly because it's the right thing to do. It isn't a cover but also a part of her which hasn't disappeared yet.

send    𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍   𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑   !  for   my   muse   to   tell   your   muse   something   truthful   even   if   it’s   brutal   honestly .

@infernal-general​​ said:  Hard truth for Gabriel & Charlie

“…I love you, Rozy. But sometimes you scare me because of that…thing inside of you. And not many things in this universe actually do frighten me. I know you have no control over it residing within you, but sometimes I wonder when it comes to your bloodlust, whether it’s the Hellfire talking…or if it’s actually you…”

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Her house was flying...

Masterlist, Natasha Romanoff masterlist, latest fic, hit my inbox

When you woke up, she was still here. A rare occasion. Usually by the time the sound of your alarm filled the void of your room, she was already long gone

"Hey, gorgeous." You kissed the red hair that was messily painting your pillow.

Nat yawned and buried herself deeper into your embrace. You were often surprised how strong her grip was even while she was half awake. She didn't allow you to move at all. This morning you belonged to her and this was a new feeling. For both of you.

"Hi." She whispered into your neck and kissed the hickey she left on you yesterday.

You shivered, affection getting right into your heart. Today Romanoff took your soul and she would never let go of it.

Morning sun was caught in her eyelashes. You smiled at her frown. Nat didn't expect to meet those early hours of the day with you.

"How did you sleep?" You were tracing the marks of your nails on her back. As usual it was never enough for her. Her cries of pleasure were still ringing in your ears.

"Good, but nearly not enough."

Soft rustle of fabric reminded you that it was just an ordinary day. Nat needed her coffee. You whined, when she took the sheets with her. Greek goddess not less.

You followed her, brushing the softness of her silk robe that was ignored on the back of the chair.

"I'm getting cold." You pouted.

Nat opened her arms and you didn't waste another second. She was so tender this morning. Your first morning together.

You nuzzled into the crook of her neck. You never knew that she could smell so good.

Somehow you were smaller than her, which only happened when she hugged you. She kissed the top of your head.

"Cappuccino?"

"You know me so well."

Amongst the sounds of cutlery and cups you heard her phone vibrating. She stopped for a second, but eventually managed to fight off a noisy thought. You hoped it was nothing serious. You blinked, Nat's doubt was gone. You hummed an excuse for her. It was work.

She cut the fruits, she offered you your coffee. Woman playing guitar on your cup was smiling as usual.

Nat smiled, you didn't like your coffee too hot. Just the sole fact that she knew such small things about you made her blush. You were important. Her heart was beating a little too fast.

"You need to eat something." You wanted to get up, but Nat was already on your knees.

"Mhm." She moaned into the light kiss. Her tongue once again discovering your obedience. Natasha made you completely hers. "You."

You gasped when her hand almost reached between your thighs, her teeth thinking into your exposed skin.

Air between you was electrifying and you knew this was the only energy that would keep both of you alive. You hoped that sparkles and shooting stars that were now glowing in Nat's spring eyes would become your eternal companions.

Her phone vibrated again, Nat bit you harder in annoyance.

"Shouldn't you..." You timidly looked her in the eyes.

"I'm only with you tonight. Noone else."

Nat's Russian accent appeared out of nowhere. She was serious.

"I don't want anyone to be mad at you."

Nat left you alone. She turned to the window. Of course you were too kind for her, too caring. The sting of guilt. She almost forgot where she belonged. You were too pure for her.

You touched her elbow. She flinched.

''What if..."

"No, no, no" Nat abruptly turned to you and desperately whispering the pleas in her palms. "I want to be with you."

You felt she needed your support, You didn't know what happened, you had no idea why your Nat was breaking in front of you. You couldn't touch the weight and share it with her, but you knew it was breaking her spine.

"You are with me." You placed one of her palms on your heart. "It's beating only for you."

You knew something inside of her changed today, lost it's color. You hoped it wasn't the disappearance of the burning red, but the loss of the rotten black.

"I don't deserve you." Nat sounded defeated, lost in the labyrinth of her hesitations."Not the way I am. Not with what I have."

You kissed her eyes. Salty reminders of her weakness.

"I shouldn't have stayed, I..." She started mumbling. Nat was quick to find her clothes.

"No-no, Nat..." you were following her as if she was the sun. "I'll understand everything, I'll accept."

Suddenly her footsteps froze. One sleeve of the jacket was dangling behind her back. She was pale. She couldn't open the front door.

"Everything?" She echoed.

You nodded, Nat laughed. At least she thought she did. But it was nothing more than a howl. The light that was so foreign to this moment was no making fun of both of you. Tiny shadows of her tears were still on her cheeks.

"And if I'm an awful person." She rasped.

"You are not." For the first time you caught her gaze. You knew where she was looking. You knew what she saw. The wound that was almost bleeding instead of your heart.. it was enough for her only to twist the knife.

"You don't know me," With every word it was becoming colder and colder. You veins were turning into ice, Nat's blood was turning into venom. "Don't know what I leave outside your door."

You were standing in front of her. You were defenseless. What did you know about Nat? 6 months and what? Only now you earned a privilege to meet sunrise with her. You always knew that a shadow was looming near her. You were sure it was her past, you didn't care.

She grimaced at your innocence. You had no idea what was she doing. That you were only a distraction at first but she learned to love you. To forget her real life. The one she was leaving at your door.

"I have to go." She silenced a sob with a fist.

You knew it was past, you hoped it was her past.

___

5 days were empty. 5 days were forever gone. You cried yourself to sleep, you heard every bone in your body melting. Your Natasha was gone. Her phantasm remained. And you were sure, that it was her ghost on the sixth day.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like this." She was different. Made from marble. Another jacket, but same perfume. She bought the one you had.

You were staring at her. She didn't budge. Her fingers slightly trembling.

"I'm fine." You lied to her face.

"We shouldn't see each other again. I..." She shrugged. "I have other priorities."

"I figured." What was the point of arguing. You were numb.

"I don't want you to think that you were not enough." She confessed. "I'm the one who's damaged."

You smiled weakly, your knees were ready to hit the ground. Luckily the couch was near.

"I will never forget you. You were the one who cured me."

___

If only you knew, that Nat was damaged for such a long time. It became difficult for her to breathe. Her every decision was an imitation, Was it a disease of vanity? Was it the fear of heights? She was always alone. And you were always so far away. With you she could breath, and yet there was something that even pencil couldn't catch. Her house was flying and she prayed for the wind not to blow it too far. Nobody knew that her house was filled with screaming children and crying dog.

___

"And what are going to do. Natasha?!" Bruce was terrifying. "Leave us and go to her?"

"You don't care about me." She roared. "I'm talking to you and you're only nodding. Do you even... I'm suffocating here!"

"It's your family, Natasha. Your obligation." He pointed at his ring. "you belong to me. Not to that flirt."

"Shut up, Banner. Or I swear to God even Hulk won't help you."

"Go and tell your kids you're leaving them." He hit the table with his fist. "Go and leave another family of yours."

Nat's jaw clenched. But she was too weak. If only she could see you once again, if only you could give her the courage.

another Nat fic

[starrconch]

READER BRAIDING S/O'S HAIR

★ Includes: Diluc, Zhongli, GN reader, fluff

★ Word Count: 1382

★ Master List

DILUC

★ It took you a while to work up the courage to ask him if you could help assist tie his hair in the mornings. He was very fond of his crimson locks and yet he never really took care of them.

★ His hair would become knotted and tangled throughout his day from the wind blowing and during his fierce battles as the Darknight Hero, only to be sorted a few days later.

★ It made you mad how he wouldn’t take care of his gorgeous hair, and so, you would just have to step up to the task instead.

Occasionally Diluc would wake up before you when he had a lot of work to do, leaving you behind after quickly snuggling into your warmth and pressing a kiss to your forehead. But not today. Your partner awoke to an empty bed with the aroma of breakfast rising from downstairs.

When you heard his footsteps approaching, you called out, “Diluc! Come and get something to eat before you head out!”

He arrived to see you focusing on not burning or bursting the Teyvat Fried Eggs you were preparing for the both of you. Softly smiling and burying his face into your neck, wrapping his hands around your waist. “I’m sorry, my love. I’m afraid I can’t join you for too long as I have matters to attend to.”

You frowned, serving the eggs onto plates. “Is it more Darknight business?” Your voice was a little more stern than intended.

Diluc raised a brow, pulling away from you. “It is. Is that a problem?” It was less of a question and more of a challenge. He’d told you before what his side hobby meant to him. He needed to protect Mondstadt where the Knights of Favonious couldn’t.

“Oh!” You realised what your words implied, a little stunned. “No, no. I don’t mind you doing that, but...” The rest of your sentence couldn’t process into words, embarrassment settling into what felt like its permanent residence. He would never agree to it. Never would he let you braid his hair and you knew it.

“But what?” You two sat down together at the dining table with your food, though neither of you started eating.

“But your hair,” you whispered. “It always gets so messy when you fight.” Why were you saying this? Archons help you now you were too far in to turn back now.

Diluc’s expression softened and he chuckled. “That can’t be helped, but it’s easily fixable.”

“Could I maybe braid it so it doesn’t get tangled in the first place? When all the strands are wrapped together neatly it won’t get knotted and in your way as much.” You played with your egg with a fork instead of meeting his gaze. He was sure to deny you, right?

“I-“ You looked up to see your partner a little shocked, pink dusting his cheeks. “If it’s for practical purposes, I don’t see why not.”

★ The smile that appeared on your lips made Diluc’s chest tighten with happiness. He’d be late for his mission that morning, but the cheerful hums he heard coming from you as you plaited were worthwhile.

★ You didn’t do anything too extravagant, just a simple braid in his ponytail that you were certain would stay in place all day.

★ Once you were done and you’d both finished your breakfast, Diluc checked his new braid in a mirror hung in the entrance of the Dawn Winery.

“It’s wonderful, my love. Thank you.” He pulled you in for a gentle kiss on the lips before he set off the complete his Darknight duties.

★ Now, every morning before he set off, Diluc would have you plait his hair so it wouldn’t get tangled.

★ It wasn’t always necessary as some days he would only tend to matters in the alcohol industry or work at Angel’s Share. But seeing your content smile every time made his day before it even began.

ZHONGLI

★ You loved to run your hands through your partner’s silky hair when he rested his head on your chest. It was incredibly well kept, never really a knot or tangle in sight. Somehow it was always perfectly smooth.

★ Zhongli let you brush it occasionally because he knew it made you happy and, in the contract you two had arranged, that was one of the conditions you had laid out for each other. But never had you thought about braiding it before.

★ His rat-tail hairstyle had always been there ever since you two had met, changing it up felt it was as if you were changing up the laws of the world. It didn’t sit right.

★ That was until you two were out walking around Liyue Harbour and noticed someone passing by with a magnificent plait, all sorts of wondrous flowers weaved in between the strand of hair. There was even a few Cecilias all the way from Mondstadt!

You tugged on the sleeve of Zhongli’s coat, pointing towards the person who had just walked by. “Look how amazing their hair is!”

“It’s very impressive. Such skill and time that has gone into creating it is very admirable.” His golden eyes watched you curiously, noting how you still had something you wanted to say. “Do you not agree, my dear?”

A soft laugh sounded from your mouth. “Of course I agree. But, do you think you’d ever like to try something similar with your hair?” You looked down to fiddle with the loose skin on the sides of your nails. “It likely wouldn’t be as extravagant as you don’t have as much hair, but I think it would suit you.”

After only silence greeting you in answer, you returned your gaze back to Zhongli. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he said no, you told yourself. He wouldn’t like it and that would be okay. Even though you had secretly been planning how you could style it for months now, it would be fine. You’d be sad, but it was hair. You could move on. However, when you looked back up, your partner was nowhere to be seen.

“Zhongli?” You called out in confusion. How had he slipped by unnoticed in a matter of mere seconds?

Eventually, you found him kneeling underneath a tree by an odd teleporting contraption, comparing Glaze Lillies to each other. “Ah! Sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you so suddenly,” he apologised, standing with a bunch of flowers in hand.

“That’s okay.” You smiled, thankful that he hadn’t just deserted you after you asked about braiding his hair. Zhongli wasn’t one to act that way, he’d talk the situation out with you, but there was always a first time for everything. “What are you up to?” You motioned to what he delicately held.

“The usual merchant who sells Cecilias is currently out of them, so I supposed you could also use Glaze Lillies to weave into my hair instead. I spotted some over-” He was unable to continue as you carefully wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, being sure not to knock any of the flowers out of his palms.

“Thank you, Zhongli.” You couldn’t contain the grin that forced its way to the surface of your face.

He freed one of his hands and used it to pull you closer, rubbing your back and pressing kisses into your hairline. “Of course. I think braiding my hair would be quite a good idea. A nice occasional change.”

★ You two went back to your house in Liyue Harbour so you could begin the process of braiding his hair.

★ Zhongli would have you explain every step to him in great detail as you went, specifically wanting to know how you weaved the flowers into his hair, so he could one day return the favour. If you had enough hair, he would love for you to teach him how to give you a matching braid too.

★ For the rest of the day, he would be very mindful of how he touched his hair, not wanting to accidentally pull it apart or make any of the flowers fall out. Once it eventually does unravel, leaving his rat-tail a little curly, he would come straight back to you to ask you to restore it to its full glory.

[peachy-hk]

hello hello let me send an angst req real quick. arranged marriage w sakusa (or akaashi or ushijima, u choose if u dont write for the other ones) where the reader was in love w him and he hates the idea of the marriage so always leashes out on their s/o and by the time he realized that he loves them too etc its too late. or just do wtv u want i need sumn arranged marriage angst rn. like yk extremely angst - 🐰

OH MY GOD??? Pls this request itself made me sad kdjsksks. Forgive me if I don’t do it justice but just know your request is a work of art 🥴🥴 and also?? did I just get my first anon????? AH???? 🐰 anon will forever be engraved in my brain kjsdhkfjk

anymore.- Sakusa Kiyoomi X Reader

in which your husband to be doesn’t realize he loves you until after you’re gone.

Warnings: Fem reader! Cursing. (Reader x Osamu near the end). Manga spoilers! (Sakusa, Osamu, and Atsumu.)

Word Count: 1.4K

Sakusa Kiyoomi had never really put thought into getting married. To him, marriage was something he would probably never do. Not because he hated the idea of it, but because he never thought he’d find the right person to settle down with. Chances were he was never going to get married. He knew that, his parents knew that, hell even his friends knew that. So why was he sitting across from you, in a room with both of your parents, being told that the two of you would be getting married? He didn’t know. 

In all honesty, Kiyoomi had already planned his life out. Getting married to you was not part of that plan. You were just an obstacle in his life plan. A nail when all he had was a screwdriver. He didn’t hate you. To be honest he didn’t even think you were a bad person. But every time he saw you, he was reminded of the fact that he would have to get married to you. The fact that he’d have to settle down and start a family. All of it angered him. Even though he didn’t hate you as a person, he hated that you would get in the way of his future career in volleyball.  

You weren’t marrying him for the money. Your family lived a comfortable life, not extremely rich but not dirt poor either. The reason you were getting married to him was to make both of your parents happy.

You had quickly come to love the curly black haired man. The way he showed such love and dedication for volleyball. How he had his morals and stuck by them. The way he smiled when talking to his teammates (a rare but beautiful sight). All of these things you had managed to pick up by going to a couple of his games. Other things like how he acted around the people he loved, or his cute habits were things you learned from tea afternoons with his mother. You knew he didn’t like you, but you had hoped that he would grow to love you eventually. 

Waiting for him to love you was painful of course. Skipped dinners, dates that he didn’t show up to, nights where he didn’t even come home to the shared house the two of you had moved into. You slept in different rooms, but it hurt to know he was out somewhere and preferred being there than in the same house as you. Then again, it wasn’t like he would talk to you even if he was home. If you had tried to start any type of conversation with him, it would be dry and short. If you kept pushing for a conversation, it would become an argument.

“Why don’t you ever want to talk to me?”

“Why don’t I talk to you?” He spoke sharply, the tone of his voice was harsh and cold. “I don’t talk to you because you’ve basically ruined my life.  All you’ve done since I met you was side track my life. You're useless. I have no reason to get married to you. You don’t help me achieve anything, hell you don’t even support my volleyball career. All you do is ask me stupid questions because you want to talk. TAKE A HINT GOD DAMNIT, HOW FUCKING STUPID ARE YOU?” 

Every fight was the same. It was always “you’re useless”, “you don’t support me.” and “you ruined my life” along with lots of cuss words thrown in the mix. You had gotten used to the arguments. Was arguments even the right word? It was one sided, the constant throwing of insults and harsh words at you, but they were never returned to him. You didn’t have the heart to speak to him like that. You loved him after all.

“I’m calling off the wedding.” You say to him. The two of you are sitting across from each other in the dining room of your rather luxurious house. “What?” He says. Finally looking you in the eyes for the first time in weeks. He sets his tall glass of water on the table, waiting for you to say more. “I’m calling off the wedding.” You say again. You don’t understand the look of confusion on his face, he’s the one that wants this way more than you do. “I’ve spoken to both our parents on our behalf, I told them things weren’t working, they are not pleased, but they understand our decision.” 

“Our decision?”

“Yes Sakusa. Our decision.”

“I supported you and your volleyball career. I chose to love you even when you didn’t love me back. I chose to put up with your childish tantrums because you were mad. And about what? The fact that your parents want you to settle down? The fact that your parents wanted you to have somebody to carry out your volleyball legacy? All you’ve done is push me away. I’m done putting up with your bullshit Kiyoomi.”

It had been three months since you had called off your engagement with Kiyoomi. The first few weeks after it was hell for the two of you. You had gone back and forth from regretting your decision to being glad that you had done it. 

Your relationship with Kiyoomi was horrible. It was bad for me and my mental health. I don’t need him. I’m better off alone. 

but he wasn’t. 

After you left him he started thinking about you. It didn’t make sense to him, the marriage was arranged so how could you just call it off like it was nothing?? How could you spend months trying to get to know him, trying to get him to have the slightest liking in you, to just toss him like a piece of garbage? 

he didn’t understand.

He began to miss the way you would sing in you shower. He wondered if you knew he could hear you, but he never cared to bring it up. He opted to listen to the melodies you’d sing, never getting through a full song before starting to sing a new one. 

When he’d wake up in the morning, he’d be reminded of you. The lack of breakfast in the kitchen, the wilting or already dead flowers in the hallway. He didn’t have the heart to throw the flowers away, remembering how you had rambled to yourself about how they were your favourite when you thought he wasn’t listening. Everything reminded him of you. And yet, he still didn’t know why. 

He was the one that was constantly yelling at you. He was the one that didn’t want to get married to you. He was the one that saw you as an obstacle, one to over come instead of embracing. He was the one who pushed you away, when all you wanted was to get closer to him. 

And he was the one that missed you.  

5 months after you left Kiyoomi, he finds out you’re getting married to a certain silver haired twin from a certain blonde haired twin. According to Atsumu, you and Osamu had been friends for years. Atsumu had mentioned that you were often helping at Onigiri Miya when Osamu needed more people to work. 

He feels conflicted. 

He knows that life isn’t like a romance story. He knows that showing up at your wedding and telling you to marry him instead won’t work. He knew that if he ran into you in the middle of the street you wouldn’t go for coffee with him. Nothing works like that. And yet, he still wants to try.

Life doesn’t work like that. 

There he sits in a black three piece suit, siping on the champaign that was poured for the MSBY table minutes earlier. Tonight is a night of celebration. A night where everyone is supposed to be happy for the bride and groom. 

But all he feels is regret. 

He should be the one dancing with you in the middle of the venue. He should have been the one to put the ring on your finger. The one you say “I do” to, the one the your vows are for. But he isn’t. 

He drowns away his feelings in alcohol. He hopes that he’ll wake up and it’ll all be a nightmare. That he’ll wake up to the smell of you making breakfast and fresh flowers in the vases in the house. He wants you to ask him how his day was. He wants to hear the way “Kiyoomi” rolls off your tongue one last time. But he won’t. 

You’re not his anymore. 

[silky-stories]

Hi!! Maybe headcanons or some kind of literature with either vampire garcello x reader or mermaid garcello x reader?? You could do both or one or the other. You're the one writing it after all. Thanks!

Oh. Ohohohohohohoho, now we’re talking >:)

Anon I am going to let you in on a little secret, so anyone who isn’t anon look away >:(

...okay now that it’s just you and me, one of your suggestions kind of predicted a oneshot I’ve been working on that I’m going to be posting soon. So because of that I’ll be going with the other option. Hope you enjoy ;3

———————————————————————

Parched. {Vampire Garcello/Reader}

Genre: Suggestive

Words: 2027

Related Song: Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know { slowed + reverb}

Summary: When your boyfriend gets home from a long day, it’s only polite to fix him a drink, don’t you think?

Disclaimer/s: Steamy content, swearing, blood

Notes: Garcello speaks in red this time, Reader speaks in blue ;) [Also, monster character x reader or character x monster reader is my absolute jam, feel free to send in requests like this more often-]

———————————————————————

Your boyfriend was, to put it lightly, a little bit on the odd side.

He work dark clothes on hot days, didn’t like the sun very much, had an uncanny sense of smell and hearing, and liked his meat pretty rare. To the outside world he was a weird shut-in that was probably goth, but you knew a hell of a lot more than that.

The two of you had met late at night in a rougher part of the city. You were on your way home from picking up a few essentials at the nearby 24-hour convenience store when you heard some rustling coming from an alleyway. Then some banging. Then some yelling. Then silence.

Well that was ominous as hell.

...

Time to investigate.

You made your way down the dreary alley, groceries in hand, preparing yourself to see a murder scene or something of the like and...

...you honestly weren’t that far off.

You found yourself watching as a man pinned a guy to a wall, his head lowered to his neck. At first you felt yourself getting embarrassed, figuring that you had walked over and unintentionally interrupted a passionate moment. You quickly realized that wasn’t the case when you watched the guy go limp in the arms of the larger man.

After a few moments of you being the quietest you’ve ever been in your life, standing and staring in shock, not knowing what would even be the right course of action for a situation like this, he pulled away. The guy that had previously gone limp slowly slid down the brick wall, deep red trickling down his neck and pooling in the crook of his shoulder. The aqua-haired man let out a sigh as he wiped his mouth with his gloved hands, still unaware of your presence.

Your mind was blank when you spoke up, it had to be for you to do something so bold yet stupid.

“Is he dead?”

The man flinched, hard, and whipped around to lock eyes with you. You were met with two bright red dots staring back at you, stunned, you began to unintentionally study his face.

The dark crimson that you had seen on the possibly-dead man’s neck was also identifiable as a smear on this guy’s face, starting at his lips and trailing off along his cheek where he had tried to wipe it off. His lips were slightly agape, revealing a set of sizeable fangs, as well as other teeth that seemed sharper than a regular human’s teeth should be. Looking down further you noticed that his gloves were fingerless, presumably to allow the sharp claws of nails that he had to stick out.

Other than all of that though he looked like a pretty normal guy. A pretty normal guy with very pale skin, but normal nonetheless.

“I... huh..?”

You were so busy taking in his clearly inhuman appearance that you actually forgot what you had initially asked for a moment, but restated your question when it came back to you.

I mean, what was there to lose at this point? It’s not like running seemed like a very smart option.

“Him. Is... is he dead?”

You pointed at the man that was currently almost falling over in his slump to emphasize your point. The man in front of you took a double take between you and what may have been a dead body before responding, clearly taking in the absurdity of the situation, similar to you.

“He’s... no he’s... passed out I...”

He paused, blinking a few times as he tried to process what was even happening. You took the moment to look at the body a little more critically and, surprise surprise, noticed that he was actually breathing.

“I didn’t... I didn’t take much so he’s just...”

Didn’t take much?

...

Oh.

Oh shit.

Suddenly the whole ordeal just clicked in your brain as you finally understood what it was that you were looking at.

“You’re a vampire!”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, shocked and questioning, almost accusatory as your eyes went wide.

He didn’t seem to like that though. His brows pulling together tightly in sudden concern as he frantically looked around for any other possible witnessess. When he reinitiated eye contact he appeared quite a bit more panicked than before, more like someone that had been caught doing something arguably wrong. He looked threatening for the first time throughout the encounter.

“You... what do you plan on doing..?”

Plan on doing? Like what you were going to do after this? Knowing that vampires did in fact exist and at least one lived in your city?

“Do you... ever kill them?”

He shook his head warily.

“Then... I don’t... think I care?”

He was surprised to hear that, to be fair though, so were you. You figured you would care more about catching a literal vampire in the act but... he wasn’t killing anyone so was it really any of your business?

“You... you don’t care that I just drink some of his blood???”

“I guess not?”

You let out a chuckle of disbelief at your own statement, any ounce of a threatening or intimidating expression had left his face.

“He’s not gonna, like... turn into a vampire or die of disease or something later, right?”

“No that’s uh, not how it works...”

“Then just like... I don’t know, make sure he gets cleaned up and home safe and this stays between us I guess.”

He let you know that that’s what he did on a regular basis and after a few more awkward moments you were on your way.

That definitely wasn’t your last interaction though.

He didn’t trust you to keep your word, you honestly couldn’t really blame him, and you ended up catching glimpses of him watching you from alleyways or tops of buildings at night. It was kind of worrying at first but eventually it got to the point that you would just smile and wave if you saw him.

Eventually he would wave back.

Sometime down the road and you learned his name. Months later and you found an odd friendship forming, starting with you asking him to come in on a particularly rainy night.

Even later and you found yourself developing feelings, getting to know who he really was. His personality, his struggles, his fears. He really wasn’t a bad guy, he just had no other choice since regular food did nothing for him.

After half a year of your strange friendship you found yourselves together, he had happily moved into your apartment and you had started to acquire blood bags for him to use instead of people. That didn’t stop him from drinking straight from the source every now and then... although, the source he used had definitely changed.

“I’m home.”

You leaned out of the kitchen to smile at Garcello, he returned it with a warm grin, shucking off his coat and tossing it to the side to land on your shared couch.

“Welcome back! How was your day?”

You greeted him with open arms as soon as he meandered into the kitchen, he swiftly took up your non-verbal offer and swept you into his strong arms. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled, sighing deeply through his nose as he melted into the embrace.

“It went fine, certainly not my job of choice but I think the interview went alright.”

You hummed in acknowledgment and nuzzled your head against his, pleased to have him back in your arms after half a day without him.

“I made sure to get bread and milk like you asked.”

You chuckled as you spotted the brown paper bag he had set on the counter.

“Thank you.”

He continued to hold you like that, peppering your cheek and jawline with a few kisses as he told you more about his day. Although, there seemed to be a shift in his attitude somewhere along the way. He suddenly went from sweet and giddy to much quieter, giving shorter answers when you asked him a question as he let you lead the conversation.

You decided to bring it up, just in case there was something wrong.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Hmm?”

“You just... you went kinda quiet so I just wanted to make sure.”

He was perfectly silent as he thought over his answer.

“Yes, but... are you... working on anything right now?”

His tone was anticipatory, eagerly awaiting your response. You found yourself suspicious of his intentions.

“Well, no, I was just putting away some dishes that I was washiNG-!”

You were caught off guard by his tongue dragging across your neck in a smooth motion, tightly taking hold of the back of his t-shirt as he did so. You felt him smirk against your neck afterwards.

“That’s good... you see, I have a bit of a problem.”

“Y...y-yeah...?”

“Yeah...”

You flinched as he brushed one of his fangs against the top of your shoulder.

“The thing is, I’ve had a bit of a... craving today.”

One of his claw-like nails came up to trace along your sternum...

“It’s been just... driving me mad.”

Your collarbone...

“Itching the back of my brain...”

Your sternocleidomastoid muscle...

“Funny, right?”

Stopping and hovering just above one of your carotid arteries.

“Yeah... f... funny...”

His smirk grew in response to your reactions, nuzzling your neck affectionately with a huff.

“I guess what I’m trying to ask is...”

He tilted his head up to whisper in your ear.

“...would you mind if I had a little taste?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into him, not even having to speak for him to know what your answer was. He had waited for that cue though, just like usual he would never drink from you unless he was certain that you were fine with it. Even then, you both had a very clear safe word that you had used in the past if anything went wrong or you changed your mind.

You didn’t really have to worry about that though. You knew you were safe in his hands.

He purred in response to your willingness, slowly walking you back and gently pinning you to the wall.

“God you smell good right now...”

He lowered his head back down to your neck, finding the spot that he had traced up to and licking a small stripe along it, pinpointing the location of your pulse.

“...bet you’d... taste even better though...”

He was gentle as always when he bit down, it only felt like a pinch until the aphrodisiac kicked in, immediately erasing any sense of pain you had. Being guided by one of his hands that had tangled itself in your hair, your head lolled to the side as he drank from you. A gentle moan erupted from your lips as your grip on his shirt went slack, your arms falling limp beside you as bliss took hold of your thoughts.

“F... fuck...”

He purred louder as you gave clear indication of your enjoyment. The hand that he had propping himself up against the wall fell and came to rest on your hip, gripping tightly as the hand he had on the back of your head made soft contact with the wall instead.

He cut himself off a little bit sooner than usual, pulling away just enough for you to watch him lick his lips and fangs clean.

He chuckled as the hand that raked through your hair slid down to cup your cheek.

“...I was right, you taste amazing...”

His expression didn’t lose it’s smugness though, usually when he was done he would take a much softer turn and patch you up immediately.

“Although, I think I might have put a little too much aphrodisiac in your system sweetheart...”

He was right, you felt like a rag doll right now, nearly putty in his hands as the only thing keeping you standing at the moment was his grip on your torso. Your eyes had glazed over slightly and you were practically panting at this point.

“...let’s do something about that, hmm~?”

[yandere-sins]

hi hi!! I was wondering if I can get some poly yandere Daichi and Suga from haikyuu with a fem!reader pls! Maybe something where they’re done with her trying to escape and what they do to make her stay? Thank you<3

Oooooh, yesssssssss!!! Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————«« 

“Leave her be,” Daichi’s faint voice revealed the exhaustion but also the relief he was feeling. Suga’s steps made the floor creak beneath him, and you knew he was pacing up and down in front of the door, thinking of what to do. With you barricading yourself in, neither of them wanted to risk hurting you, knowing you sat in front of the wood, and if they broke it down, they’d clash with you inevitably.

“Just... how could she? What did we do wrong?” Koushi churned out from gritted teeth, and you could imagine he was biting his nail in frustration as he prowled the living room. “You know what we did,” Daichi sighed, the leather of the couch squeaking as he moved, probably laying down.

“But...” Suga croaked, frustrated, a long sigh eventually falling off his lips. Subconsciously, you had listened to their words, studied their movements just like you had before. For months now, you had practiced recognizing sounds like how the floorboards ached or how the breathing of your captors echoed in your bedroom at night. It had all been so you could escape. Run away from this nightmare you were trapped in, a situation you would never have expected to be possible aside from in books.

Unfortunately, you were the living proof that these scenarios didn’t only happen in fiction.

Of all people, how could you have known not to trust these two charismatic idiots you’ve been hanging out lots for months now. At first, it had just been a study group, something so minor. But soon, they had invited you to hang out with them and their club, and naive as you were, you believed that you three were really good friends, going to every one of their games and talking openly about your life with them. Too openly.

So openly that one day, they didn’t want to let you go anymore.

It was scary. They were scary. How come that those two loveable guys you grew so familiar with turned out to be a menace to this world - at least, your world? What had YOU done to deserve their treatment of you? That they kept you from something they only ever imagined happening? Maybe you had been a little depressed back then, but that wasn’t a reason to keep you locked in their apartment, right? You had trusted them back when they asked you to stay the night because it was so late. How could they betray you so much?

A small squeal escaped you as you withdrew more into yourself, the doorknob to the room twisting and turning again, gently rattling. It was slow at first, then it became increasingly frustrated and demanding. “Please open the door,” Suga meekly whined. It felt like he stood right behind you when he spoke, and it gave you the shivers. “We can talk about it. We can talk about anything! You know we’re always here for you!”

Yes, but you didn’t want them to anymore

“We love you, [Name]! We want to help you!”

They did. They did, and that was the problem; they loved you too much.

Every second, every breath that those two made, you knew your situation was getting worse. You had slipped from their fingers before; they were just as scared as you were, though for different reasons. Sugawara had been near frantic when they finally found you, breaking down in the next best alleyway with you, choking back the tears of relief that they caught up with you. All while, Sawamura had done nothing but blocking the view from the main street to you until his partner was ready to depart. You thought to see him relax a little as he took deep breaths, hugging both of you tightly in his embrace, but he was the driving force that urged you back to his apartment.

You should have fought back then and there, called for help! But the words were stuck in your throat, unable to leave you as you worked through the shock of being found. You thought you had hidden so well and even gotten far enough to consider it safe. Just how? How had they found you?

“Please!” A loud thump echoed through the bedroom as Suga punched the door with his fist, and you gulped, cupping your ears with your hands, wishing for him to stop. You didn’t want any of it anymore! You just wanted to go home! Biting your lip, you took a few deep breaths. Yes, you had run and hid in this room as the first thing when they pushed you through the entrance door. Yes, you wanted to stay here until they left you alone.

But Sugawara was getting impatient. Worry was fueling and frustration controlling him, and though he wasn’t the man you came to know, you thought you understood him a little better by now. No matter how often Daichi would tell him to stop, he wouldn’t. He never would.

They’d never leave you alone.

His mouth had just opened up, hand ready to drum against the door once more when you opened it. Only a gap at first, but through it, you could see their surprised and flabbergasted expressions, Daichi jumping up from the couch but making no move more than that. Too afraid you’d get scared again and close the door in their face.

“Stop...” you whispered. “Just stop, please. Go away!”

“Oh, [Name]...”

As if your words had no meaning, as if they weren’t true to what you were feeling, Suga didn’t hesitate to push the door out of the way to you. You were back in his embrace, shivering and near tears as he pulled you tightly against him and you face into his shoulder. The embrace of a protector, of a lover. But to you, it was nothing more, nothing less than the torture of a madman.

Just as much was the additional hand you felt against your arm. A warm palm rubbing over your skin, holding you. “We’re not angry,” Daichi assured you, but you had doubts about his truthfulness. “Just let us know how we can make it better!” Suga added, his arm becoming a painful presence in your back, fingers digging into your body as if you were butter and not a being out of flesh and bone.

Was there even one thing that could make it better? Was there just one thing they could have said that would improve this situation? “Let me go,” you whispered, pretty sure only Suga could hear your faint voice in his ear.

“No,” he sighed, almost pleasurable so. As if it made him happy that your heart shattered in your chest, the drumming of it being a declaration of breaking to you. “We love you--” he started, turning his face slightly to kiss your temple tenderly, his hand on the back of your head blocking any way of escape.

“--so we can’t do that,” Daichi finished for him, and you risked looking up from Koushi’s shoulder to face the man. His eyes showed the sweet sight of your disheveled form in your reflection and the admiration both of them had for you when they looked at you. But as he stood there in the door, it was almost like he was saying--

“Never,” Suga sighed. “You can never leave us, do you understand?”

Pushing you away from him by your shoulder, you met Suga’s loving gaze, but beneath the shine in his eyes, the malice hid. The knowledge that this was wrong, but it was all he desired, and the same desire was eating him up alive. You didn’t want to know what happened with his sanity if by now you could see the madness by a mere glance into his face.

“[Name]?” he urged, his fingers digging into your shoulders, and even a helpless glance at Daichi didn’t help you out of this dilemma, for he stood in the doorway unyielding, his lips slowly but surely curling into a reassuring smile. For a moment, you wished they had been angry. Screamed at you, or threatened you, because you had to admit that their silence and care were much scarier now that you knew how the two of them really were. But what could you possibly do? When even running away as far as your legs would carry you didn’t work, what else was there you could do? You gulped before you answered, an exhausted, scared sound escaping your lips.

The two of them relaxed, exchanging a meaningful glance between them before they pushed you further back into the bedroom, and you began to pray for the morning to come soon.

[sharktoothedboys]

Lips Of An Angel, Part 2

Here it is guys!! Part two!! Thank you for being patient with me!! and because you asked nicely I tagging @marshmallow12435 because you wanted to know when I posted!! So here goes! Enjoy everyone!! 

====================================================

Shot ran until he thought his lungs might give out, he was hoping he would catch up to you before you even made it to Katsuki’s, if that was where you were even headed? No he couldn’t think like that, He was going to find you there. 

There is was, just up ahead, Katsuki’s home, The lights were on, that’s a good sign right? It was almost 2am! Surely that had to mean you were there. He reached the door and began to hammer on it, Frantic, but he didn’t care, He needed to explain, or at least try to. 

A very disgruntled Bakugo finally answered the door. 

“She doesn’t wanna see you, Asshole.” He snapped a soon as he opened the door. 

Shoto was trying to catch his breath on the blondes porch.

“I don’t care what you tell me she said, i need to speak to her.” He managed to get out between breaths.

He tried to push his way past the explosive hero, but to no avail, Bakugo stopped him. 

“I said she doesn’t wanna see you.” He said eerily calm.

They angrily stared each other down at the front door, Bakugos grip on Shotos arm tightened, small crackles could be heard and the temperature in the room began to noticeably drop as the two heroes continued their stare down. 

“Katsuki...” Your feeble voice came from behind the mountain of a man, “Its ok, i’ll handle it.”

Shoto looked behind Bakugo, his eyes widened in shock and sadness as he took in your dishevelled hair, red eyes and puffy cheeks, he had caused all this hurt, you let out a sniffle and he thinks he feels his heart break, This was all his fault. He snatches his arm away from Bakugos grip and quickly makes his way over to you, reaching for your hands, only to visibly wince when you retreat them from his reach, not letting him hold your hands in his. 

“Say what you came to say, and leave.” You said, as you stared at you hands, picking at the loose skin around your nails, a habit of yours. “I already know all the important parts, so don’t try and play the victim here”

“No please, YN. I am not here to try and talk my way out of anything, what i have done is awful” He says sadly, “But please here me out.”

Bakugo interrupts. “I’ll be in the kitchen, YN if you need me to kick this guys ass, just shout.” He makes to leave, but not without harshly bumping in to Shotos shoulder first. Making you smirk a little. Petty, but you didn’t care. 

“Thanks Suki.” You mutter, eyes still glued to your hands, still yet to look Shoto in the eye. 

Shoto guides you to the sofa and sits down besides you, feeling the pain when you shuffle away from him being to close. 

“I love you...” He begins but is quickly cut off. 

“Don’t, Just don’t give me that bullshit, I don’t need you to lie to my face as well as behind my back, stop trying to make yourself feel better about doing something shitty. I don’t need your pity and your excuses, If that’s all you have to say then leave.”

“I can’t lie to you anymore, because I truly do love you, Please believe me.”

“WHY SHOULD I?!” You yell, forcing yourself to your feet to pace around, “Give me one good fucking reason as to why I should believe a god damn word that comes out your mouth! You have apparently done nothing but lie to me from the start! Everything you have ever said to me has been a lie, EVERYTHING!” 

“NO Y/N!! I never lied to you, everything i ever said was true, every compliment, every i love you, everything was true, just please let me explain.”

“And what? I am meant to be grateful now?” You spit back. 

“No, just please...” 

you looked down at his desperate facial expression, you could see it in his eyes, sincerity, maybe you should just let him explain himself properly.”

“You have 5 minutes.” You huffed as you sank back down in to the sofa. 

“Thank you.” He said, then silence engulfed the two of you, Where did he even begin? 

“4 minutes left.” You stated.

“Right” He sighed deeply, “Well as you probably gathered from the phonecall, there has been...”

“No shit Sherlock” You snapped, you were beyond sad now, Shoto turning up and taking his sweet time had just made you mad, in fact it made you furious. He blinked back at your bluntness, he wasn’t used to you not being patient with him or swearing so much, he was taken aback. You had never snapped at him before. “Just get on with it Todoroki or I swear.”

That was it, hearing his family name slip from your lips instead of the usual Shoto made him snap, tears threatening to pour down his pink cheeks.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You snapped when you saw the tears.  “You have absolutely no right to cry in front of me right now.”

“I can’t help it, hearing you call me by my surname feels like the final nail in the coffin.”

“If you don’t get on with it we’ll both be in coffins.” You muttered, “Now just tell me what you wanna say.”

“There has always been someone else that has also had my heart.” He said, wiping the tears away, “She shrouded my mind and for a while she was all i could think about, even after we met, I just couldn’t seem to get her off my mind, But the closer we got, the more she faded away, eventually I found myself barely thinking of her, and smiling around you a lot more. Just as a I found myself fully falling for you, she clawed her way back in to my life, and it was like she had never left, like I was under some kind of spell for her. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you, I really was falling hard for you, But I also kept finding myself in her embrace, I am sorry for what I have done, truly, because after tonight’s phone call, I saw you were gone and I just instantly knew, I felt it in my bones that you were the one I needed in my life, the one i wanted and desired the most. The panic that washed over me at the thought of you not being in my life, Imagining not waking up to you every morning, No more loving kisses, no more breakfasts together before going off to work, no more evening cuddles while a forgotten movie played in the background, I couldn’t not have you in my life, and i promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, If you could just find it in your heart to give me one last chance, Just come home with me and forget any of this ever happened, to please, just forgive me and let me hold you again.”

A few tears rolled down your cheeks as you cupped his face with your hands, he automatically leaned in to your touch, he looked in to your eyes and gave you a small smile, which you returned, and he closed his eyes in contentment....

“Is that it?” You sighed

His eyes snapped open as you let go of his face, staring straight in to your stoic eyes that gave nothing away. Emotionless.

“Di you really think something like that pathetic little speech was going to get me to come home and welcome you back with open arms, when our whole relationship was built on a rebound that you didn’t even get over? You want me to just up and forgive you after 3 years of deceit? You think its gonna be all sunshine and rainbows? No, I don’t trust you and you want to follow you home like a loyal puppy and play happy families and pretend like none of this happened!!”

You stop to catch your breath, standing and running your hands through your hair, A speechless Shoto sat staring at you as you continued with your rant.”

“What? Nothing to say? Did you not prepare for the possibility I wasn’t going to return to you, what like I am so lucky in life to be with the great Shoto Todoroki? Well, as it turns out, I am shit outta luck! And so are you!! Tough luck Todoroki! TOUGH FUCKING LUCK! This isn’t some sappy RomCom where you say a few nice things about me and I come running back to you, I’m not some pathetic lonely woman who thinks she will never find love again, who thinks she has nothing else in her life worth living for because some asshole cheated on her, I am not someone who has no other options because some lying cheating scumbag bastard strung her along for 3 years, NO! Not me, I have a life still to live, and I don’t need you in it. But I do want an answer, so give me one. Who is she?” 

He stared open mouthed at your heavily breathing frame, Should he tell you? Would you kill her? What does he do now? Just as he was about to open his mouth the door opened and he suddenly didn’t have to say anything, In walked Camie, Bakugo’s long time girlfriend, and from the shock on her face and the look on Shoto’s as he stared at her presence, It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

“Sh... Todoroki... YLN.. what...what are you guys doing here so late?” She asked, a lump in her throat as she did.

You looked from her to Shoto, and you knew. 

“It’s you...” You said, “Its been you all along..”

Camie just stands there like a dear in the headlights, her gaze flitting from you to Shoto, begging him with her eyes for an ounce of backup. 

“ I....” Tears began to pour freely down her face. 

“KATSUKI!!!” You screamed.

“NO! PLEASE!” She lunges towards you, grabbing your arm.

“What? and just let my best friend continue his life with an unfaithful whore?”

You yelled at her as Bakugo shot in from the kitchen, just in time to witness you thro Camie from your grasp on to the ground.

“Woah!!” He yelled, heading for Camie, but you stopped him, “ What the hell is going on here?”

“It’s her” you said calmly looking down at the girl, who was now her knees, crying at your feet. “It’s her who has been fucking Todoroki for almost my entire relationship with him!”

Bakugo just stared down at her, eyes wide, His gaze turned to Shoto, who was sat on the couch, his face in his hands as his shoulders shook from silently crying. Bakugo saw red. His head lowered, his teeth grinding together, His Palms crackling loudly around his balled up fists, He was about to step forward until he felt your hand on his shoulder. 

“They are not worth it, either of them.” 

He calmed down slightly at your words and touch and looked you in the eye, you smiled and he returned the smile. 

“Just one question,” He stated boldly, looking down at Camie, “Di you ever love me? Or did you just choose me to get closer to this bastard?” 

She looked up at him, her silence speaking volumes, That was all he needed.

“Get the fuck out, both of you.” He fumed

“But where am I meant to go?”

“Do it look like i give a shit about where you go, end up in a ditch for all I care, why don’t you go to lover boys house with him, Whore.”

“She is no longer welcome at my place.” Shoto said as he stood up heading for the door, not without giving you one last apologetic smile.

“Katsuki, please.” Camie begged holding on to the hem of his shirt from he place still on the floor. 

“NO! You don’t get to call me that anymore, Now I aid, get out.”

He bent down grabbing her by the collar of her coat and literally throwing her out the door, Shot still stared at you sadly as the door was slammed in both thier faces. He had really fucked up, and he knew deep down there was nothing he do to fix it. 

He stared longingly at the door, until Camie tried to grab his hand, that he snatched away. 

“Don’t touch me, this is all your fault, I was just getting over you! I had found someone I could love, who I DID love, why did you haver to come back and ruin everything for me!? I am going home, don’t follow me.”

He storms off leaving her in the street alone to sort out her own situation, He was done with her, he wouldn’t let her ruin his life again. 

Back in Bakugo’s house you slumped down on the sofa, your head on your hands, tears wanting to fall but you not quite letting them. 

“He isn’t worth it.” Bakugo said in a calm voice, a hand around your back, drawing small circles along the small of it to calm you down. You look at him smiling and padding your eyes with your hands to stop the tears, “ You know I am right.” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah, you’re always right. Aren’t you?” You giggle back at him.

“You know it, sweetheart.” He laughs, “Now come one we should get some shut eye, we are both on patrol tomorrow. You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Shit, Patrol. My hero uniform and everything is all at that hom... Todorokis place.”

“Don’t worry, make me a list and ill swing by in the morning for your uniform, you have bought the essentials right?” 

You nod at him

“Right well I’ll get you some fresh sheets for the guest room, lets sleep.”

You yawned and followed him to the guest room and he got you the fresh sheets he promised and bid you a goodnight as he went to his room. 

The next morning, Bakugo was true to his word and went to Shoto’s house to collect your hero uniform and a few other things as specified in the list he asked you to write for him. He arrived, ringing the doorbell and waiting for an answer. He eventually opened the door, he looked like shit. 

“Bakugo.” He seethed

“Asshole.” Bakugo replied.

After they exchanged their greetings, Bakugo made his way inside, explaning you had sent him for the bits you needed. 

“Is she okay?” Shoto asked sheepishly.

“You don’t get to know that.” Bakugo spat back as a reply.

“Come on Bakugo, at least let me know she is okay?”

“You threw away the right you had to know anything about her or her life.”

Shoto stared down at the blonde as he packed a few of your belongings into the bag he bought with him. 

“Oh my god...” Shoto realized. “ You’re still in love with her aren’t you?”

“Always was, always will be.” Bakugo replied without missing a beat, he smiled up at the dual haired man, “ Your loss will be my gain.”

He zipped up the bag and stood besides Shoto. Shoto’s left side began to ignite a little out of jealousy and rage. 

“Go ahead IcyHot, do your worst, I’ll just go home and have YN patch me up while i tell her what a monster you are.”

With that said, his flames extinguished, He didn’t want you to think he was a monster, even though it is what he deserved.

“Just treat her better than I ever did.” Shot said quietly.

“That won’t be difficult.”

That stung.

Bakugo stepped past Shoto, leaving him behind with just his thoughts and memories. 

He made it back to his house, he entered only to be hit with the smell of bacon and eggs, a smile creeped on to his face, he could get used to this domestic life bullshit, coming home to a cooked meal everyday sounded great. He decided there and then that he wasn’t going to waste another second of his life with out you. He walked in to the kitchen gaining you attention.

“Hey Kats....” You were cut off by his lips slamming down on to yours, You were still for a few seconds while you figured out what ws happening, and then you melted in to his embrace as you returned the kiss, you felt his smile on your lips as the kiss deepened. 

He begrudgingly broke the contact.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.” He whispered against your lips that were still very close to his own, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Then show me, Suki.” You said as you returned you lips to his and kissed him with all the passion you had. 

You were sure he has the lips of an Angel

===================================================

@marshmallow12435

There we go guys!! Part 2!!! I absolutely LOVED writing this story, so I hope you all enjoy it too. It deffo my new fave! Please like and follow I would be eternally grateful!! 

[storiesforallfandoms]

master plan ~ andrew siwicki

word count: 1721

request?: yes!

@harryskittenxox​ “ Omg thanks so much! I feel honoured lol I was thinking something along the lines of the two of you flirting constantly and Garrett gets his friend to flirt with you to try and make Andrew jealous and finally get him to admit his feelings but after a bit of arguing and angst and all that good stuff please? Totally happy for you to take control of it though, I love your writing concepts so much you just always hit the nail in the head!”

description: when andrew refuses to admit his feelings for the girl of his dreams, garrett enlists the help of a friend to push andrew along

pairing: andrew siwicki x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

“Why is Bruce flirting with me?” I whispered to Garrett as we both went to refill our drink glasses.

A group of us had gotten together at Garrett’s apartment - myself, Andrew, Caleb, and Bruce. Garrett invited us over for some drinks and snacks, not an unusual thing for Garrett to do. What was unusual, however, was for Bruce to be very openly flirting with me in front of everyone.

I was the only girl in our immediate friend group, so everyone assumed that Andrew, Caleb, and Bruce were constantly trying to get with me. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Besides the fact that Caleb already had a girlfriend, both he and Bruce were basically like my brothers and treated me the same way they treated each other and Garrett.

Andrew, however...well I could never tell what was happening with us. I sometimes thought that Andrew was just treating me the way he treated everyone, but I also came to realize that he was much more physically affectionate with me than anyone else. We talked a lot more than I talked to any of the other guys. But we never took it further than just friendship, which just confused me about...everything.

Garrett barley glanced at me as he responded, “Maybe he just likes you.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s definitely not it. If he liked me, why wouldn’t he have flirted with me before now?”

“Maybe he has but you haven’t noticed.”

I gave him a look. “Garrett, for real. Do you know what’s happening with Bruce?”

He looked up at me and passed me a drink. “I swear, I know nothing.”

I didn’t believe him, but I knew I wasn’t about to get any sort of info from him.

We both returned to Garrett’s living room. There were two open spots: one next to Andrew and one next to Bruce. I looked between the two, wondering what my best course of action would be.

Andrew looked up at me first and smiled. My heart fluttered and I knew the right choice almost immediately.

As I started moving towards Andrew, Bruce spoke up, “(Y/N)! Come sit next to me!”

“You’ve been hogging her all night, Bruce,” Andrew said, his glare enough to kill someone. “Maybe let the rest of us have time with her.”

Bruce attempted to glare back, but I could tell it wasn’t as sincere as Andrew’s. “Maybe (Y/N) can decide for herself.”

I looked between the two before inching myself towards Andrew. “I - I’m gonna sit with Andrew.”

The look on Andrew’s face could only be described as triumphant. As I sat next to him, he put an arm around my shoulder, causing my face to burn. Garrett gave me a knowing look before sitting next to Bruce.

“Y-Your drink looks a little low,” I said, trying to think of something - anything - to say. “Want another?”

“I think I’m okay. Feeling a little fuzzy so I should probably slow down.”

He’s drunk, he’s not flirting, I reminded myself.

With his arm around me, I had to stop myself a few times from leaning into Andrew’s embrace. However, my alcohol started to kick in as well, and his smell was just as intoxicating as my nearly empty cup. Eventually I just couldn’t stop myself from letting my head drunkenly roll onto his shoulder. But he didn’t stop me from putting my head on his shoulder, either. He actually wrapped his arm around me, letting me stay there for some time.

Eventually, Andrew did get up to get another drink. I watched him go, immediately missing his warm body next to mine. A slight annoyance rose within me when Bruce quickly stood and sat next to me again.

“Bruce, what is your fucking deal?” I asked, shoving him away from me.

“What? We haven’t hung out in a long time! I’ve missed you!” Bruce argued, although it was a very paper thin argument.

“You don’t have to be all over me though, dude. It’s annoying.”

“You heard her, Bruce,” Andrew said, now coming back from getting his drink, “it’s annoying.”

“Well maybe the rest of us find it annoying the way you’re always stealing her,” Bruce retorted.

The room went silent. I snuck a glance at both Garrett and Caleb, who looked more shocked at Bruce’s statement than in agreement with him. Garrett even looked...worried? He definitely has something to do with this, I know he does.

Andrew’s face went red. I couldn’t tell if it was with anger or embarrassment. I could definitely feel mine ignited with the latter.

“If you guys have a problem with (Y/N) and I hanging out so much, you can tell me,” he said, his voice calmer than I anticipated. “You can tell me, too, (Y/N). You know that.”

I tried to respond but I was so shocked that I couldn’t get any words out. I couldn’t understand what was happening.

“But for real, man,” Andrew said, turning back to address Bruce specifically. “You’re bothering her, so fucking lay off. I’m gonna go get some air.”

The minute Garrett’s front door closed behind Andrew, Garrett was to his feet. “Okay, that was too far, man. This whole thing is over now.”

“What whole thing?” I demanded. “Garrett, what did you do?”

“I’m sorry for being too pushy, (Y/N),” Bruce said, suddenly back to being the Bruce I knew. “I didn’t mean to actually annoy you. I thought...Garrett, why didn’t you tell her about the plan?”

“What plan?” I snapped. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on? Please?”

“Garrett had this plan to try and make you and Andrew admit your feelings for one another,” Bruce explained. “That involved me flirting with you in front of Andrew and making him jealous. I didn’t mean to take it as far as I did, but that last part slipped out before I could think about it.”

“What?!” I turned to face Garrett. “Why would you do that?! Why wouldn’t you tell me?! Poor Andrew...”

“I’m sorry!” Garrett said. “I didn’t expect it to go as far as it did! Fuck, I’ll go after him.”

Before Garrett could even move, I was already out the door. I nearly stumbled over Andrew, who was sat on the front steps of the house. He looked up at me and gave me a small smile as I sat next to him.

“Are you okay?” I asked him. “You know what Bruce said isn’t true, right? About you and me hanging out too much. None of the guys think that at all.”

“I know. I, uh, I heard Bruce and Garrett discussing their little plan just then,” Andrew responded.

“What the fuck were they thinking?” I said, still angry about the situation. “That’s...all of that was so wrong. And then they took it too far and you got hurt. I’m fucking angry.”

“I’m not too mad,” Andrew admitted. “I mean, I’m glad they’re not all annoyed with us hanging out a lot, but I find it awkward that they don’t mind cause they just want us to date.”

I winced at his wording, wondering what he meant by that. Did he mean he didn’t want to date me? Or just he didn’t want the guys meddling in his love life? Or did it even have any meaning?

“Yeah,” I finally managed, forcing a light tone in my voice. “That...that is awkward.”

A silence fell between us. I looked down at the ground for a long time, unsure of what else to say. I debated on just getting up and going back inside. I didn’t even really want to be there anymore now that I knew how Andrew felt about the situation. I knew it was a long shot that he’d have feelings for me, but hearing him actually say it felt like a sharp knife through my heart.

“Were you jealous?” I found myself asking, shocked by the boldness I was feeling in that moment. “Or were you just annoyed with Bruce, too?”

“A bit of both I think,” Andrew responded. “Obviously I was annoyed. He was bothering you and acting like a dude who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. But I was also jealous of the way he was acting around, and the fact that he kept trying to take all your attention.”

“But like...in a friendly way? Like...were you jealous he was taking your friend?”

“Are you trying to ask if I have feelings for you (Y/N)?”

I shook my head and started to get to my feet. It was stupid of me to try and ask him that. Of course he didn’t have feelings for me, he was my best friend. Just my best friend.

Andrew quickly stood, too, grabbing hold of my arm to stop me from going in. “Hey, hey. Don’t run away so fast. I want to know, are you asking me if I have feelings for you?”

“Yes!” I finally responded. “Yes, that’s what I’m asking you. Do you have feelings for me, Andrew? Because I really want to know what’s going on between us. Are we flirting, are we just being really friendly, are we just friends? I wanna know what’s going on in your head when you think about me, and when you see me and hang out with me.”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes, I do.”

The response to my question came in the form of Andrew’s lips against mine. It was so easy to relax into his kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him to me. His hands rested perfectly on my hips, like they were meant to be there. I leaned into him as close as I could be, taking in as much of him as I possibly could.

The sound of cheering broke us apart. We turned to see Garrett, Bruce, and Caleb looking out the living room window at the two of us. Upon realizing they had been caught, the three of them quickly pulled the curtains and backed away from the window.

“Do you wanna go back in there?” Andrew asked.

“No,” I responded.

“Me neither. Wanna go back to my place to finish our night?”

I smiled back at him. “I’d love that.”

[aminiatureworld]

Frustration II

Characters: Albedo, Kaeya, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,820

Premise: Commissions don’t always go as planned, much to your frustration. Luckily there’s someone there to make you feel better.

Author’s Note: Okay I did not predict the first part of this becoming the most successful fic on this blog to date. The people have spoken! So I come to you with more characters, hopefully this will make up for leaving Zhongli in the dust yesterday – that and the fact that his scenario turned out to be the longest to write out of all of them. I also have a few other characters for this prompt in mind, we’ll see. Also wow I don’t know how to title sequels.

Once more my deepest thanks to the 115 people who liked, the 8 people who reblogged, and the one person who commented on the first part. I cannot tell you the joy it brings me to see that people are interested in what I write. It makes me so stupidly happy, so thank you so very much.

Albedo

“I understand that Forsaken Ruins are supposed to hide secrets and all, but honestly how many boxes can one put in the same area before someone tells you it’s time to stop.”

Albedo said nothing in reply, eyes focused intently upon the graduated cylinder and glass pipette in his hands. You watched as he counted the drops under his breath, nodding slightly as the clear water in the cylinder shifted to a rather unimpressive muddied brown. Regardless of the color evidently the alchemist was satisfied, for he stoppered the cylinder and returned the remaining liquid of the pipette into its original container, arranging everything on the shelves, and leaving the rest in the small sink.

“Silver nitrate.” He explained, wiping his hands on a cloth, before going towards where you were sitting cross legged on a stool near the countertop that worked as his desk. “Now tell me about why you’ve been digging up boxes near the Forsaken Ruins.”

“It’s for a commission. You know Bao’er?”

“That suspicious woman from Liyue I keep telling you is probably a bandit?”

“That one.” You nodded curtly, glancing down at your hands. “And bandit or not she keeps commissioning me, I can’t very well not accept. Anyways, she’s been looking for some sort of treasure, but no matter what I give her it’s never what she’s looking for. Do you know how irritating it is to have a passive aggressive customer angry at you about something they did? I mean really.” You huffed in frustration.

“Have you considered the fact that she might just be using you to dig up all the treasure in that area.” There was slight amusement in Albedo’s voice, and your head shot up in response.

“Well forgive me for doing my job.” You shook your head, not truly believing there was any bite behind the alchemist’s words. He was right after all, and you weren’t altogether upset to know that someone else shared your suspicions of this person who kept commissioning you with no end in sight.

“Forgive me love.” Albedo walked over and gave your slightly hunched figure a hug. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning your head into his shoulder. The position you two in wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but there was nowhere proper for you both to sit, and besides Albedo’s embrace was so warm and secure you didn’t mind craning your neck a bit.

“You’ll get there eventually.” Albedo’s voice was steady, confident, as if he’d somehow calculated the fact that eventually this mad goose chase would end, had seen it in one of his many experiments.

“How would you know?” You whispered, still feel a bit contrary, though your frustration had long ebbed away.

“I just do. You can master anything with time you know. That’s the secret of science, the secret of alchemy. In the end it cannot be done without endurance, and I know that your endurance is one to withstand any storm.”

“Only when you’re cheering me on.” You replied, hugging Albedo a bit tighter.

“Oh that’s not true.” Albedo responded in kind, running circles along your back. “You’d do just fine without me. But I’ll be here for you regardless. So don’t forget that every question can be answered and every quest completed. It just takes a little time. We’re all humans in the end, regardless of vision or power. Just humans, and to be human is to sometimes need a little time.”

You nodded, lifting your head to glance into his face, usually passive and clear as ice, now filled with warmth and fondness, smile filled with fondness and love.

“Besides.” Albedo loosened his arms around you, instead reaching to help you off from the stool, laughing slightly as you stumbled, feet having fallen asleep. “I don’t see Bao’er doing any of the digging. How about you remind her of that next time she has an ill word.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” You replied, before leaving the lab, hand pressed firmly into Albedo’s and heart much lighter than before.

 Kaeya

“My darling!” Kaeya leapt down the steps outside the Headquarters of the Knights of Favonius, feet barely seeming to touch the ground, before sweeping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long and I’ve missed you so much.” He declared, ignoring the fact that it’d only been about 8 hours, instead peppering your face with small kisses, before registering the look of frustration clearly being worn by you.

“What’s wrong?” He drew back a bit, though not much, curiosity and worry in his eyes, hands gripping yours. You smiled, shaking your head; Kaeya always seemed to be ready to worry about your happiness, not that you didn’t find that completely charming.

“It’s nothing really important.” You were looking to assure him, but instead Kaeya’s frowned deepend.

“Nonsense. Anything that’s clearly making you so unhappy is of utmost importance. I’d like to know what it is, if you don’t mind. I’d like to help.”

“You’re helpful you being here.” You smiled, giving him a belated peck on the cheek. “But if you must know I’ve got a commission that needs to be done in an hour, and I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish it. You know how there’s a large vein of Crystal in Stormterror’s Lair? Well Wagner asked me to go mine some for him, easy stuff normally. Apparently though the mouth of the vein is situated right in the path of a ruin guard, and I’ve had a terrible time trying to do battle with the thing while being bogged down by mining equipment.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I mean really this shouldn’t be that hard. Why am I struggling so much? Wagner isn’t asking that much, he’s a good person. I’m just… inept.” You finished, by then your nails had begun digging into your palms. Kaeya noticed this and brought your hands up to kiss them, smiling as you reddened slightly and shook your head, a smile nevertheless tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Well I won’t tell you that Wagner is being utterly too demanding and that you have a right to a safe work environment,” you snorted at that, as if an adventurer’s work environment was ever safe, “but I will tell you that, since the best, most handsome, most daring Knight of Favonius has fallen hopelessly in love with you, he is willing to do the mining while you use that ruin guard to blow off some steam. Does that sound like a good deal?”

“I can’t believe you’re sitting out a chance to fight and instead are becoming a miner.” You smirked, placing a kiss on Kaeya’s jaw. “But really how could I ever turn down such an offer from such a gallant knight.”

“You’d run back to Wagner and give his ears a rightful scorching I’d hope.” Kaeya replied, linking his arm in yours.

“Hmm… unlikely.” You replied, leaning into the knight. “But thank you Kaeya. Truly, thank you. I know it’s not your job to fix commissions. It means a great deal to me that you’re willing to do this.”

“Of course I’m willing.” Kaeya smiled softly. “You’ve saved me from failing my job too, in more ways than you think. And even if that weren’t true, which it is, I love you so very dearly, and this is a small way to show it.”

You nearly ran into a lamppost, your face pressed into Kaeya’s shoulder, face warm and heart full of love.

 Zhongli

You really didn’t want to tell Zhongli.

That was the thought running through your mind as you hurried up the steps to the funeral parlor. You really didn’t want to tell him.

It’d been little more than a month since he’d given up his position as god of the city, little more than a month since the citizens of Liyue had begun the arduous task of ruling their own city in earnest. And little more than a month since you and the Geo god had begun your courtship. You relationship was still new, and though you’d thankfully mostly lost the sense of smallness that had initially come with falling in love with someone so powerful and so unending as a deity, though you now longer thought the love between you was something that could shatter at any moment, you still were a bit reticent to throw all your insecurities and mundane frustrations at Zhongli’s feet.

The smell of incense hit you the moment you entered, a bit overwhelming at first, but soon comforting and familiar. You exchanged a few words with Hu Tao, before walking over to Zhongli’s office, pace speeding up despite yourself. You might not have wanted to tell Zhongli about your day, but you desperately wanted to see him, as you always did when all was said and done. There was something about his presence, comforting and sturdy, and always filled with kindness and understanding.

Understanding. Zhongli would understand, of course he would. But you still didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to see his face cloud over with worry as you knew it would. He cared so very deeply, even if he didn’t always express it he truly did. Hidden under layers of politesse, tradition, and decorum there was simply someone who cared so very deeply. And thus someone who was often and easily hurt.

“Hello darling.” You said, entering the office quietly. Zhongli had been reading a scroll, but he quickly set it down, a smile erupting across his face as he stood up and met you halfway, enveloping you in a hug, which you gladly reciprocated. “I’ve missed you.” You said, voice muffled by his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, so very much.” He replied softly, one hand running itself through your hair absentmindedly, the other wrapped around your waist. “The days are terribly slow without you. I never noticed before how an afternoon can stretch so long.”

“Well I’m here now.” You replied, leaning back and bit to cup the archon’s face in your hands. Zhongli placed one of his hands on yours, leaning into your palm, smiling contentedly.

“I’m glad of it.” He said those words often enough, but every time it made your heart speed a bit. You felt so full of happiness you could almost forget the irritation of the earlier hours.

Almost.

“How were your commissions today?” It was early evening by now, and golden light was starting to slant through the windows. Zhongli was cleaning up a bit as you watched, smiling slightly. That smile slipped however once the question was asked, not that you didn’t know it was coming, as you two often asked each other about your days, each being a bit fascinated with the other’s job in some respect.

“It was alright. Fairly ordinary.” You tried keeping your answers brief and your tone light, though you could already hear the sharpness in your voice. Irritation was difficult to hide however, and you could already see skepticism in Zhongli’s gaze as he turned to face you.

“Oh. What were the commissions, if I may ask, the regular spots?”

“Mostly. I had one where I had to deliver a message to the Inn too, and one where, well, it was less of a commission and more of… well honestly I’m not sure what to call it.” You finished, tone by now filled with a mix of irritation an cynical amusement. Zhongli stopped altogether at that and sat at his chair, facing the spot you’d taken on the desk.

“May I ask what happened.” He said once more, tone slightly worried. Shit. Wasn’t this exactly the reason you hadn’t wanted to tell him?

“Well, you see I’m not the only guild member of course. And it’s almost the end of the month. What with everything that’s happened they needed someone to ask after some of the unfinished commissions, the ones that had a time limit. I finished my work early so I went.”

“And?”

“And, well. Well some of these adventurers were honestly hopeless!” You burst out, having shed your worries in your frustration. “I mean I know they mean well, I know they’re trying. Or at least I hope they are, you can’t really tell at some points. Like this one guy, I asked about why he hadn’t done any of the food deliveries he said he would and he made some odd excuse that a coworker was supposed to take care of it while he looked for a text that someone else wanted. Okay, fine. I go to the coworker, and she says that it was a one time thing as far as she was concerned and that she didn’t go to pick up the food after. I go to the restaurants themselves and turns out half the orders never go tthere and the other half have been put on a tab that need to be paid but no one thought to pay it so I do so. That doesn’t even begin with whoever did a hack job at the Wangshu Inn, apparently the boards have caved in again. And I was going to do that, but then I got pulled into some monster hunting so that won’t be done this month and honestly, it’s all just so… so frustrating!” You felt like you were spiraling at that point, all the frustration and shame coming back to you, the feeling of having to smile at someone who you’d much rather scream at.

Your thoughts cleared as Zhongli reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. Bringing his hand up to your face he wiped away a few tears of frustration that you’d shed. Shaking your head you took his hand in yours. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t worry you about these things. I don’t want you to think Liyue is falling apart. I mean this was a thing even before you stepped down, and I know that I’m complaining too much and it’ll be fine it’s just, it’s just a lot.”

“I know.” Zhongli smiled softly. “You shouldn’t feel like hiding these things for my sake. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d rather truly know how you’re feeling. Just like you don’t want to place a burden on me, so do I not want to place a burden by you by making it seem as if you have to carry your cares alone.”

“But, with everything so recent… I just. I worry you’ll regret it.”

Zhongli smiled, and leaned in, kissing your forehead. He smelled of incense and glaze lilies, and you found the knot in your stomach uncoiling despite itself. Smiling you linked your fingers through his, focusing on that as Zhongli kept a hand on your cheek, grounding you.

“Thank you for worrying about me. But just as I trust you’d tell me if Liyue were truly about to burn to the ground, so do I trust that it won’t happen. You’ve taught me that you know.”

“Me? Not the Liyue Qixing or the traveler? I think they’ve done a lot more than my running around will ever do.” You smiled a self-deprecating smile, but Zhongli simply shook his head.

“You have taught me that. How you keep going, how you support those you don’t even know for the sake of your guild and your commission, even if you have a grievance. And, more than that, you’ve shown it to me, simply by letting me have a place in your heart.” He lowered his gaze, face clouding over in the way you knew it did when he was considering the past. You gave his hand a squeeze and he looked up, smiling softly.

“I used to think that humans were delicate, no matter what. That they were destined for the tragedy of death and that made them unable to be depended on, that they’d just break and break and that I’d spend my existence watching it until I couldn’t stand it anymore. But you showed me that ultimately humans are resilient, more resilient than any adepti or magical being, who cannot stand to face time or pain or hard work. You’ve taught me that, and if you’ll let me I’d like to share that with you, your burdens, your frustrations, your anxieties. I’d like to be there to support you, if I cannot fix it then I’d at least like to be there for you. So please, don’t hide your struggles from me, so I may remind you that they’re simply proof of your power.”

You didn’t really know what to say, smiling in a mix of relief, sadness, and adoration. Leaning in to kiss Zhongli you felt the word recede and grow around you. You didn’t know how he did it, how he took all your cares and worries and flaws and morphed them into something beautiful.

But that was what made Zhongli special, and you adored him for it.

[angstysebfan]

Would you mind doing a oneshot where Bucky is proposing to you and as you were about to answer you receive news that your ex whom you presumed to be dead is actually alive and within the vicinity. You rush to him and have a reunion leaving Bucky feeling abandoned and forgotten. Ending is all up to you 💛 your angst is great 💛💛💖

Oh boy this hurts me just reading it! lmao! Thank you for this amazing request! Hope you like it!

--

Who Should I Choose?

Bucky walked with you down the Brooklyn Bridge, your hand in his, feeling nervous. He was going to do it! He was finally going to propose and hopefully spend the rest of his life with you by his side. You both met 2 years ago when you officially joined the team. You had always been a part of SHIELD, but not in New York, so you never worked with the Avengers.

Bucky had heard about you though. You were tough as nails, fought hard, and were one of the nicest people on the planet. He also heard you had lost your long time boyfriend on a mission. You decided to relocate to New York to start over, and the Avengers were more than happy to accommodate. When Bucky met you, he immediately took a liking towards you, and vice versa. You both became confidants for each other, and eventually the feelings shifted into more.

You took awhile to allow yourself to love again, but when you did allow yourself to love Bucky, you never regretted it. You knew Michael brought Bucky to your life so that you wouldn’t be alone. You started slow, but over the last year, you both have been so very happy. Bucky wanted to make sure he never lost you, so a few weeks ago he went out and bought a ring and planned for this very special night.

He brought you back to where you both had your first date, and decided that proposing on the Brooklyn Bridge would be romantic and private from the rest of the team, who was anxious for the engagement news. Once you both got to the middle of the bridge, Bucky pulled your hand to make you stop and look at him.

“Y/N, I love you,” Bucky said, trying to gain the courage to do this.

You smiled warmly at him, “I love you Bubs,” you said leaning in to kiss him softly.

Bucky grabbed onto your waist and pulled you closer, and your arms wrapped around his neck. He continued to kiss you passionately to give himself time to get his thoughts together and do this. When he finally felt he was ready he pulled back and smiled at you.

“I know we have only dated a year, but it’s been the best damn year of my very long life. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You mean everything to me, and--”

Bucky was interrupted by your cellphone ringing. You pulled it out, “I’ll ignore it, sorry,” you said looking down at the phone. However, when you saw the same on the caller ID, your heart stopped and your breathing hitched. It couldn’t be. No way could Michael be calling. He... he was killed on that mission. They never found his body, but plenty of blood.

You looked up at Bucky, your face pale and your eyes filling with tears. “Y/N? What is it?” Bucky asked concerned.

You clicked the button to answer and put the phone to your ear. When you heard the voice, you immediately choked on a sob, “Y/N? Baby... is that you?” Michael’s voice came through the ear piece.

“Michael? Is-is it really you? I...” you can’t speak for fear of your voice cracking.

“Oh baby, I am so sorry. I’m alive! It took me so long to get away, but I’m alive baby! I’m in New York, looking for you!” he said. You look out over the bridge, trying to figure out what you should do.

“Michael, where are you?” you ask, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

When Michael told you where he was, you asked him to wait there and hung up. You looked at the man before you, suddenly feeling sick. “Bucky... Michael is alive,” you say finally letting the tears fall.

Bucky pulls you into a hug, his own heart breaking. There is no way he will ever compete with your first love. He knows he lost, and now he knows he will be alone. He pulls back and kisses your forehead, “Let’s take you to him,” he says quietly.

--

When Bucky pulls up to the destination, you see Michael standing there. You jump out of the car and run into his arms, allowing yourself to cry. Michael holds you close, kissing the top of your head and whispering how sorry he was that he left you.

You couldn’t explain what you were feeling. You were so happy to have Michael in your arms again. Something you never thought possible. After what seemed like forever you pulled away from Michael slowly, but he wouldn’t let you leave his arms. He leaned in to kiss your lips, but you turned away, remembering the man, who you also loved, was sitting in the car watching you.

“Michael? There is someone I want you to meet,” you say, pulling out of Michael’s embrace. 

You walked over the to car and waved for Bucky to come to you. Bucky sighed defeatedly, but exited the car and walked over to you. You grabbed his hand and gave him a squeeze, “Michael, this is Bucky Barnes. We have been seeing each other for a year now,” you say.

Michael looked at Bucky and immediately recognized who he was. He looked back at you in shock, “Wow. I, uh, an Avenger?” Michael said, at a loss for words. 

You nodded, “Yes, I am one now too,” you said.

Michael smiled at that, “Of course. You were the best on the team,” he said with pride. He reached out for Bucky’s hand, and they both shook.

Michael looked back at you, “Do you think we could hang out for a bit? Talk, catch up?” he asked.

You looked up at Bucky, who avoided your eyes. You knew exactly what he was thinking, but you wanted a chance to speak with Michael. See if there was still something there. You didn’t want to lead either man on. Neither of them deserved it. “Sure, just give me a few minutes, okay?” you say to Michael, and pull Bucky back to the car,

Bucky keeps his head down as his heart shatters into a million pieces. Tonight was supposed to be the best night of his life, and it has turned into the worst. You cup Bucky’s cheeks and force him to look at you, “Buck, this does not mean I am breaking up with you. I’m just confused, and I need to talk with him to clarify what I am feeling. But please know I love you,” you say trying hard not to cry.

Bucky pulls you into a hug and kisses your head, “I get it, Doll. Go. Spend time with him. Take some time to figure out your feelings. I’ll be here no matter what you decide,” Bucky says. 

You nod and peck his lips softly, before turning back and walking toward Michael. Bucky gets back in his car and drives away. All he keeps thinking is that he most likely lost you, and he can’t even be mad at you for it. Michael was your first love, and if there was a chance for you both, he was going to sacrifice his happiness for you. Though now he knows he was never meant for love. He was never meant to be happy. This is just another form of punishment for the crimes he committed as the soldier.

--

When Bucky returned to the tower, he immediately went to his room and locked the door, not letting anyone in. He laid in his bed and wondered how he would be able to be near you, once you chose Michael. He knows that’s what will happen. It’s the only thing that would make sense. Even if you did love him, it is nothing compared to Michael. 

Bucky let some tears fall as he looked around his room and saw all things that reminded him of you. As well as some of your things you had scattered about. He grabbed a box and started to pack everything up, not wanting to look at it anymore. Tears continued to pour out of his eyes as he dropped another thing into the box. 

After a few hours, FRIDAY informed him that you wanted entry into the room. Bucky tried to swallow the lump in his throat, and allowed you to enter. When you walked in, you had a bright smile on your face, which made Bucky feel even worse. You smile slipped suddenly when you noticed his room was missing things, mostly yours. You turned and saw the box on the chair and looked back at Bucky in confusion.

“I figured I would get started packing your things now,” he said with a shrug, trying to play off that it didn’t affect him. 

But you knew Bucky better than anyone, even Steve. “Oh. So you know my decision then?” you asked. 

Bucky nodded, “It only makes sense. He was your first love. I can’t compete with that,” Bucky said sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the ground. You walked over and sat next to him, keeping some distance.

“You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?” you ask quietly, looking at him.

Bucky sniffed, “I don’t want to hear you say goodbye. I don’t think I could handle it. I love you, Y/N. More than anything. If I have to give you up so you could be happy, I will. Even though it will kill me inside. I know I don’t deserve you, and he does,” Bucky says, tears again falling.

You stand up, and Bucky waits for the door to close behind you, but instead you kneel in front of him and cup his cheeks again. “You deserve the world and more, Bucky Barnes. You deserve all the happiness life could provide someone. I want to make sure you are so happy that you forget what sadness is. Marry me?” you ask. 

Bucky’s head shoots up and he looks at you, “What?” he asks.

You smile and wipe the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs. “I love you, Bubs. Yes, I still love Michael, but I didn’t know what true love was until you. I know you were going to ask me tonight, and I am so sorry I ruined it, but I hope by me asking you, I saved the night?”

Bucky pulled you into a strong embrace, “God I love you,” he whispered into your hair in disbelief.

You laughed and pulled away slightly before kissing him. After a few moments you ask, “So? Will you make me the happiest person on Earth, and spend the rest of your life with me?”

Bucky takes the blue velvet box out of his pocket and shows you the ring. You offer your left hand, and he slips the ring on your finger, a perfect fit. “Nothing would make me happier, then spending the rest of my life with you, Doll. I love you,” he says.

You both stand and hug each other, slightly swaying. You start to just dance in each other’s arms without music. The beating sounds of your hearts was enough of a rhythm. Bucky looked down at you and smiled before bringing your lips to his for a perfect kiss.

Life together was going to be everything you both wanted and more.

--

Hope you liked it!! I try for the happy endings because Bucky deserves happiness too!! lol

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[secretaryunpaid]

Preparing for Marriage...

TNA Fanfic

Word Count: 1175 approximately

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Triggers: none

I do not own the GIFs, pics, or music used in this fic.

~~~~~ Rehearsal Dinner ~~~~~

Mason, Sr looks to Vivian, who looks to Robin, who simply shrugs.

“I’ll check the men’s room to see if he’s in there. Maybe he’s just ... freshening up... He was running behind leaving the office when I left...”

Robin quickly leaves the table before his mom could force the truth from him. He’d not seen Sam all day, nor spoke to him.

Knowing it was a long shot, because he’d just made the excuse up to avoid further tensions, he reaches the men’s room. As he pushes the door ajar, he feels her nails running against his chest, as she holds him from behind. Already understanding her meaning, he pulls her inside with him.

Checking to make sure they are alone, she turns and jumps into Robin’s embrace. He kisses her with every desire he’s ever had for her, thinking she has decided on him over Sam... finally coming to her senses.

He unzips his pants as she slides her thong aside for his entry, balanced upon the marble top vanity. She holds firmly to his biceps as he leans to give her all that she desires. In his widened stance, he wields her against him relentlessly, their love sounds audible beyond the closed doors.

Just as she’s almost found her release, moaning his name, he lifts her from the sink. Holding her in his embrace, he drives deep within her, increasing his thrust, bringing her to muffled screams of his name as she buries her mouth against his neck.

His accelerating pace brings both of their release simultaneously, both calling on the other’s name, foreheads falling against one another as they try to control their breathing...

“Well, then... I guess that I’m no longer needed... Robin, enjoy this win brother, as you’ve tried for it often enough...” Sam turns and leaves them to their embarrassment.

Both are sharing puzzled looks, trying to understand why the door wasn’t locked, frantically adjusting their clothing.

Catching sight of Sam heading for the doors leading out of the venue, Vivian calls out to him, but it is Mason, Sr. who halts his paced exit.

“What is the meaning of this, son? You haven’t been here, and now that you are, you just turn to leave without explanation... No cold feet now, son!”

“The son having cold feet would be Robin, dad... Seeing as how he was barefoot and tip toed deep into Sofia just now,” he says calmly under a soft baritone, as he greets approaching guests.

As they depart, Mason, Sr. finally belts out, “WHAT ??? YOU JEST ?!!?”

“Here they come now, I’m sure he’s still wearing her scent.” Vivian is making her approach to where Sam stands, but is not quite in earshot of the conversation as of yet.

Mason, Sr. turns on Robin and Sofia barking disdain, as Sam moves to his mom, apologetically kissing her cheek. “I can’t deal with this, mom. Love you, but I’m leaving.”

“Sam, son, surely we can salvage this!” Mason, Sr. says, attempting to gain Sam’s attention, but failing. Vivian looks upon Sofia with pure disgust, before adjusting her facade, not wanting to give clue to disharmony.

Some guests notice the tensions between the hosts of tonight’s dinner. Some notice Sam’s tense exit, and begin to speculate and gossip, as Vivian and Mason, Sr. make their way on stage to offer up some emergent excuse for Sam’s departure.

The next morning when Sam learned that Mason, Sr. had promised that the wedding would continue as planned, he mad his way to the venue. When he arrived, he’d found Sofia at the altar, explaining that they’d planned to reverse roles, allowing Sam to walk down the aisle instead. Murmurs began to arise among the guests, causing Sofia’s usual scowl to form.

The officiant began to question Sofia, who raised her voice in disgust that he would question her words. The doors fly open, and in walks Sam, making his way down the aisle as she’d explained that he would. Her “I told you” face shown proudly, she rushes to pull Sam to the altar. He starts to explain why he’s come... but she cuts him short.

“This is about that Lia person, isn’t it ?!?... You thought you were hiding her in your past, Sam? Is this what this is about? BECAUSE THAT’S JUST LUST SAM !!!... Ha! See, I still have the upper hand!”

Vivian, Mason, Sr. and Paolo look on appalled, but want to hear Sam’s reply. This was no longer up to Mason, Sr.

Sam had completed his end of the bargain as he’d asked, but marrying Sofia wouldn’t occur today... or ever.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Sofia. I was trying to handle this amicably.”

She begins to blurt out Dahlia’s full name, how she used to be a Russo employee, how she’d attended Princeton... and every scandalous fact that she’d uncovered out of her spiteful jealousy.

“Yes, Sam ... She’s the whore that you and Jay had your way with on multiple occasions... And you’d choose her over me, still ???”

Dahlia enters through a side door, making her way over to the altar, standing directly across from her, the place where her groom should be at this moment. She addresses Sofia first.

“YOU BITCH !!!” (SLAP !!! SLAP !!!)

Before Sofia can stop her, Dahlia has front and backhanded her face powerfully.

“How dare you speak of me that way. That was a very private misunderstanding. As for the things of my past, Sam is fully aware.”

Dahlia turns to the crowd, “Sam and I thank you for your attendance today. But, seeing as how we were married on yesterday, there will not be wedding taking place today.”

“The reception has been converted to a friendly gathering for your travel and troubles. Please allow us time to sort this mess before you attack Sam’s character.”

“My husband tried to discuss this last night, but couldn’t find the opportunity between Sofia’s moans of pleasure in the men’s restroom last evening as Sam arrived. Feel free to question HER fully, but as for Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Dalton, we have no comment at this time.”

She walks to Sam, joining arms as they take their exit. Vivian and Mason, Sr. sit flabbergasted by the turn of events. An embarrassed Paolo Russo drops his head momentarily before getting up to drag his hysterical daughter from the cathedral.

Vivian and Mason, Sr. eventually stand to address all in attendance... promising to update them on what this meant in terms of the merger and future business dealings. Many in attendance, well practically all who attended, were business associates and board members of the newly merged Dalton-Russo Enterprises.

As far as the personal outcome, they would make a press announcement of their sons recent marriage. It would be tactful and precise, excluding the indiscretions that occurred among the business heirs.

Robin had long took his exit upon Dahlia slapping Sofia. He’d await his reckoning at the Dalton’s Villa, as he avoided public spectacles at all costs.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 8

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 2696

Author’s Note: Gettin’ close here, folks. Two more chapters after this. Always thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67, and @cracksinthewalls for the fixing of my words. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. And I make no apologies about the end of this chapter.

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 8

They both jerk awake a couple of hours later to the sound of Dean’s cell phone going off on the table. Dean curses and nudges Kimber, who growls her displeasure and pulls his arms tighter against her chest.

“Lemme up, sweetheart, that’s Sam.”

He pads across the room, not bothering with clothes, and answers the phone with a hoarse, “S’goin’ on, Sam?”

Kimber rolls over, losing most of the conversation as she yawns and stretches. She resettles under the covers, drifting in and out of consciousness. She feels steadier than before, less frantic, but still so worn out. 

Just a few more days of sleep, that’s all I need, she thinks as the mattress dips behind her. The covers lift, letting in a chill gust of air, and she shivers as Dean’s considerably cooler skin presses against her back.

She hisses in protest, swatting at his cold fingers as they creep over her hip. Chuckling, Dean ignores her ineffectual slaps as he drags her back against his chest. His flesh warms rapidly, spurred on by his wandering hands and lips. Pacified by his renewed body heat, she snuggles deeper into his embrace, luxuriating in his feather-light kisses down her neck and across her shoulder.

“Mmm, s’nice...warm.”

“If you want me to warm you up, darlin’,” Dean drawls, his hand splaying over the swell of her hip, “all you gotta do is ask.” His nose drags a lazy line behind her ear as he inhales, his breath sending a ripple of heat straight to her belly.

He presses lush, damp kisses along her throat, down her jaw, and she turns her face to aid in his exploration. She smiles as he outlines each of her lips meticulously with his own before finally flicking the barest tip of his tongue against the seam of her mouth. 

She breathes his name out, and if it’s more prayer than request, neither of them bothers to discern the difference. She reaches back, resting her hand for a moment on the curve of his ass, reveling in the simple joy of finally being able to touch him however she wants. 

When she drags her nails forward over his hip, he jerks against her, letting out a stuttered hiss of his own. He snatches at her wrist, bringing the offending appendage up to his mouth, inspecting it with exaggerated annoyance.

“No, ma’am,” he grumbles, glaring sternly down at her. Any menace behind his expression is completely ruined by the kiss he presses against her pulse point. She purrs contentedly as he nips the pads of each of her fingers in turn; the plush of his lips against each bite is balm straight to her soul. 

“Why, Dean Winchester, how in the world did I ever forget that you’re ticklish? I think this rediscovery calls for further examination.” She wiggles the fingers of her free hand playfully, inching towards his armpit. He sighs, sounding utterly put-upon, and lifts the arm her head is pillowed upon. He deftly collects both of her wrists, stretching her arms up just over her head.

“‘Fraid I can’t allow that,” he says, though his soft expression betrays his gruff tone. “This okay?” He squeezes her hands gently, holding them tight above her. She lifts her head, grinning, and bumps her nose against his.

“I promise I’ll tell you if anything isn’t. I trust you.”

His eyes flash in the dim light, his expression going from earnest to keen in the blink of an eye. She freezes under his intent gaze, her mouth arid and lungs empty. His fingers contract around her wrists as he adjusts his grip and leans down to graze her cheek with his own, and her skin tingles in the wake of his scratchy caress. 

“Good,” he says quietly. Her eyes shut involuntarily at the raw, filthy promise in his tone. His right hand ghosts over her shoulder, fingers dancing a titillating trail alongside and underneath her breast, down and down again, before coming to rest on her belly, just below her navel.

He nips at her earlobe, startling her, and she squeaks in surprise. His hand presses against the plain of her abdomen, hot and steady as she twitches in his grasp. His tongue rolls out, soothing the sting of his bite. He ruts against her from behind, and Kimber finds that she’s panting, twisting her hands against his hold, needing something, anything to grab onto.

“Nuh uh,” he warns, squeezing just a touch. She stills, a whine stuck in her constricted throat. “I’m driving here, darlin’. Relax and enjoy the ride.”

He spends the next several minutes demonstrating exactly how skilled a driver he is until she’s strung, taut and pleading, before him. Her fingers are white in his grip, clasped together in both desperation and supplication. Breathy, whispered entreaties spill from her parted lips between quick, shivering breaths. 

“You beg so sweet...you sure you’re ready for me?” His lips brush the shell of her ear with every word as his hips grind hard against her ass, his hand slick between her thighs. She’s so far gone she can’t even answer, can only moan incoherently as her eyes roll back. 

“Good.” 

He enters her steadily, his teeth closing on her shoulder, and every nerve in her body shorts out for a single, white-hot moment. She comes back to herself as he retreats and returns, setting a steady rolling pace. She throbs around him, and he groans, only just managing to keep his rhythm. 

“Fuck, baby, you...can’t...do that to me.” 

“You...started it!” She gulps in air, heart hammering against her ribs. And still he moves, measured and even, infuriating in his constancy. She can feel every inch of him as he presses and withdraws, over and over. Her fingers flex; she needs to hold something, needs an anchor, needs him to just...fucking...go...faster.

“Dean, I...need...can you...faster, please!?”

“Sure I can,” he says. He nuzzles into the crook of her neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach. “But I’m not gonna.”

She doesn’t know how to classify the sound that escapes her, but Dean isn’t exaggerating. He drives her mad one stroke at time, never once varying his speed or rhythm. She can feel the end building, unyielding and inevitable, and she tenses against him.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. He presses a palm, heavy and febrile, against her belly, his fingers torturously close to putting her over the edge. If he would just stretch a little further, another inch or two, then-

“C’mon,” he murmurs. “Come with me.” He releases her wrists, and she immediately pushes his hand lower, plunging his fingers exactly where she needs them. She’s got fingers twisting in his hair, his hand stroking the one spot she wants the most, and then she’s gone. His hips stutter, snapping against hers as he abandons any further attempt at self-control.

He shudders behind her, his breath sharp staccato in her ear, his heart pounding against her back hard enough for her to feel the beat in time with her own. His arms move, engulfing her, and they spiral together through the aftermath.

When she can breathe close to normally again, Kimber turns over, slipping her leg between his and squashing herself fully against him. His hands tangle in her hair, and he tilts her face up toward his. She expects a kiss, but he simply watches her, his eyes moving carefully over her face. She can feel the minute change in his hold, the sudden tension in his arms, the tick in his jaw.

“Dean, what-”

His forehead touches hers, his arms almost vibrating with the abrupt intensity of his grip. Anxiety rips through her gut, shredding through the peace of the last few hours.

“Up on that roof. If I had been a minute later, if I had stayed on the phone with Sam any longer. If I hadn’t spotted you at the end of the hall...If I had tripped, or...If you hadn’t…” He stops, lips pinched white and angry. “You were on the goddamned edge, Kimber, right fucking there. You could have…”

“But I didn’t. And you weren’t late, you didn’t trip, you were right where you needed to be.” She cups his jaw and gives his head a short, gentle shake. Her thumbs smooth over his lower lip, pulling it gently. 

“I’m not always-”

“But you were this time, and that matters,” she insists. “Listen, Dean. Are you listening?” She waits for his grudging nod before continuing. “I didn’t take the step. I fell back, I pulled away, and you caught me. You got to me in time, and we came down from that roof together. And now we’re here. Together.”

She squeezes his face for emphasis. “I’m right here with you. Safe. In your arms. You feel me?”

His eyes close, painful and tight, his expression hardening as he struggles with something she can’t see. Then he exhales, forcing his shaking limbs to relax by increments. 

“That’s it,” she murmurs. “We’re okay. We’re right here. We got off that roof together. Both of us. So come back to me.” He exhales once more, and opens his eyes. The depth of loss that shines from within him humbles her, and she doesn’t bother fighting her instinct to pull him tight, shifting so his head is tucked against her neck this time.

She never had any illusions that the Winchesters led any easy life. She’s heard a lot of stories about them over the years, and she’s pretty sure they barely scratch the surface of what the brothers have gone through. She is intensely glad, for many reasons, not to be another loss for Dean to suffer through.

He doesn’t react for a long, silent moment, but she persists until his arms snake around her waist. She runs her fingers over and over through his hair, massaging circles across his scalp, pressing against the hard tendons of his neck. His hands press, release, press again into her back, and when she feels a faint trickle of moisture run from her shoulder, down between her breasts, she is wise enough to forgo commenting.

She doesn’t know how much time passes, or really what time of night it even is, at this point. Dean taps her gently, pulling back and lifting his face to brush a kiss across her cheek. He clears his throat and rolls away quickly, though not quite fast enough to hide the red, damp rims of his eyes.

“Sam is gonna be gone for a while. Said there was some sort of weird accident in another building on campus today. He heard about it at the rec center and wanted to check it out while the scene was fresh, interview some of the kids that saw it.”

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands up over his face and through his hair as Kimber closes the space between them. She kneels behind him and gently links her arms around his neck. She rubs her cheek against his, and a little more of the tension in his shoulders drops away.

Then she turns, planting her mouth tight against his cheekbone, and blows. He exclaims indignantly at the sudden reverberation, and tugs her down so she has to fall into his arms or tumble off the bed. He stares down at her, his expression very clearly asking, “What the fuck?”

She widens her eyes innocently even as she clutches his shoulders for dear life, suspended awkwardly across his lap. 

“Things were getting a little brooding. You didn’t seem to like the tickling, so I tried a different tactic?”

“You are making me seriously question seventeen-year-old me’s judgment,” he huffs, but his exasperation is tempered by a healthy dose of indulgence as he helps her to her feet. He stands, considering her for a brief moment before kissing her forehead. His hand settles on her hip as if it was meant to be there, and she can’t help the sigh of contentment that escapes her lips.

“I’m going to get a shower, since we’re awake anyway. I know I rinsed the dust off from this morning, but now I’m all sticky and sweaty.” 

“You’re welcome,” he says, winking. She snorts in response, though she has to work hard to keep the smile from her face. He leans over to snag his discarded t-shirt from the other bed, and her face warms as her eyes rove over his bare form. Her hand is nearly to his ass before she returns to her senses, snatching her fingers back just as he straightens.

God, what is wrong with me? she wonders, shocked at herself. He takes in her heightened color and outstretched fingers, and a smirk tugs the corner of his mouth up.

“Excuse me, Dr. Harper. I don’t appreciate your continued objectification of my person. I’m going to have to ask you to keep your hands and eyes to yourself. Didn’t you say something about a shower?”

He locates his boxer briefs and slips them on before turning back to Kimber. She bites her lip against the laugh that threatens to burst out. She rearranges her face into her most professional expression and clears her throat.

“Apologies, Mr. Winchester. I will keep my objectifications of your person to myself. Several times. While in the shower.” The room phone rings then, but she doesn’t miss his pleased smile as he turns to answer. 

She’s just finished rinsing the shampoo from her hair when she hears a tap on the door. She hears the knob turn but doesn’t bother to open her eyes as she revels in the spray of water rushing over her face.

“That was the desk clerk. Says something is wrong with my credit card, started squawking about calling the cops if I didn’t come down and sort it out ‘right now.’ You almost done?”

“No, but the office is a hundred feet away. Lock the door behind you and take your cell phone? Mine’s there on the bathroom counter, and you’ll be back in five minutes.”

He hesitates, and she pauses, wiping her eyes and looking over at him. He frowns, not at her exactly, his fingers clenching on the doorknob. She has a flash of his expression back on the rooftop, the stricken anger in his voice. 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again until we gank this son of a bitch.”

She immediately cuts the water and reaches for her towel. “Grab my clothes for me? I’m coming.”

…

“Fucking waste of time,” Dean spits out the second the glass door closes behind them. Fifteen minutes of arguing has not improved Dean’s impression of the desk clerk, who insisted Dean had given him an invalid credit card.

“It’s the same damn card you ran the first night. Was it invalid then?” 

Kimber reaches over, linking her fingers through his. A sudden gust of night air hits her wet hair, and she shivers, chilled to the bone. 

“At least you got it straightened out. I think I’m gonna finish that hot shower and blow dry my entire body. Maybe a late dinner after that? Check in with Sam?” Dean grunts, refusing to be deterred from his irritation.

“Join me for the rest of my shower?” she offers, half tempting and half hopeful. “I’ll scrub your back.” 

His expression lightens considerably, and he grins. “I mean, if you’re offering.”

Back in the room, Kimber toes off her shoes and immediately heads towards the bathroom. 

“How hot do you like your water?” she asks. She reaches into the bathroom, fingers questing for the light switch as she glances back over her shoulder at Dean. 

A hand closes on her wrist, painful and terribly strong, and yanks her into the bathroom, jerking her from her feet and spinning her around. Her bare feet slip on the damp floor as her back collides with her assailant’s chest, too fast for her to react. Something cold and smooth slides against her throat in a stomach-twisting caress, but it’s the unhinged voice right against her ear that turns her blood to ice.

“Can’t wait to finally hear you scream.”

…

Chapter 9

[iwantutobehapppier]

Nobody Loves No One (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Summary: You know one thing, James Buchanan Barnes was trustworthy and you weren't. When he inserts himself into your family drama and past can you show you're worthy of his trust or deign to hurt him as most of life has?

Word Count: 4,219

Warnings: Eventual Smut, night terrors, angst, canon typical violence, implied child abuse and cursing. 18 and older only

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for coming back for chapter two! 💖 I am trying to get these out weekly and I don’t see that being an issue. Things are still building and the smut is coming. Hahah If you’re holding out hold out just a smidge longer. 😘

The drive should have been short but Bucky got a bit turned around or at least that's what he claimed, blaming the change in road names from his more formative years. Though you doubted that had truly changed.

"Your dad gets into trouble often?" Bucky's casual tone did little to hide his curiosity. He had always prided himself on being shrouded in mystery but you were just a mystery.

"Not lately but the old man seems to think to make deals with the local gang is better than taking money from his Avenger daughter." You miss Bucky's eyebrows raising, you weren’t kidding on having father issues. “Even if they’ll kill him when he fails to pay back.”

"Too much pride?" You remain silent, "too much guilt then?" You feel a stab in your chest, Bucky was too observant and it was impacting your ability to keep your private life just that, private. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset over it, after all, if you trusted anyone to know these parts of you it’s him. However, you weren’t going to be forthcoming.

"Listen Bucky I'm all for team building and such but this isn't a ‘let's get to know the weird father-daughter relationship’ moment." You look out the passenger window making air quotes, the familiar run-down buildings setting you on edge for the second time tonight.

"This is a ‘help your teammate kill a bunch of local thugs from killing her lousy excuse of a father’ moment." When Bucky stops the car he turns his head towards you as you continue. 

"And then maybe," you emphasized by pushing your pointer finger in his chest and he had to hold back the smile that would certainly piss you off, "Maybe we can talk about aforementioned fucked up relationship."

"Annoyed always looks good on you," Bucky steps out of the car missing the way you ground your teeth together at his smart ass response. Stepping out of the car you mutter, "I will not kill my teammate, I will not kill my teammate."

"What was that Toots?" Bucky calls out setting Betsy’s barrel upside down on his shoulder. 

"Nothing," Bucky smirks, able to hear you clear as day but to miss an opportunity to tease you wasn’t in Bucky. 

Rolling the silencer on your handgun you make your way around the corner to the front of a building you had thought left in your past. The double doors had one guy with a bat in his hand guarding. You held back a scoff if they knew you were coming clearly they forgot how you took care of business. Though back then your business was taking care of their issues, not them.

Walking up to the man before he could raise his bat you shot him dead center in the forehead. Bucky whistled as the body slumped to the ground.

Opening the double doors you took out two more mob thugs while Bucky pulls the bat-wielding thug into the building by his metal arm. 

“This is gonna get messy huh?” Bucky trusted you wouldn’t kill an innocent or lure him to do the same but he had to express his concerns.

“Anyone in here would shoot you and your family before you could ask for mercy.” Bucky signaled towards the hallway on your right, his hearing picking up the sound of oncoming footsteps.

“You used to do the killing for us.” A short older man pointed a machine gun at you three others behind him. Without a response, you shot him in the chest and then in the head as Bucky’s gun went off three times in a row taking care of the gentlemen’s back up. 

You didn’t dare look at Bucky, not wanting to answer the questions he probably had until this was all over.

After plenty of bullets, snapped necks and broken limbs you cracked your knuckles at the "final boss" door. This door was familiar though, you had spent a good portion of your youth protecting the people behind it and fighting their battles for them all at the expense of your humanity just to pay your father's debts. 

"I'd rather you stay out here Bucky." He chortled and shook his head in disbelief.

"Not gonna happen." He stepped up next to you bumping his shoulder against yours. You sighed, your shoulders raising at the growing anxiety of what Bucky may hear. Turning your head towards him he looked at you from the corner of his eyes then turns at his waist.

Reaching over with his metal hand he wiped away blood splattered on your cheek once again. If he were being honest with himself he'd tell you he hated seeing that crimson red stain your beautiful face. But he wasn't always good at being honest with himself.

You study his face trying to get a read on him after so much shared carnage. There's a softness in his eyes that's misplaced in a room full of death.

"Just remember I never said I was always a good person." Before Bucky could ask any follow-up questions you kicked the steel-reinforced door in, watching it fall down.

A smile played at the corner of your lip hearing the cry of a man being crushed under the weight of the door and the following crunching coupled with a pain-filled groan as you both stepped on top of the door making your way into the room.

Bucky checked the magazine in Betsy as you survey the remaining five thugs and a weathered senior man sitting at a desk center of the room. His hand resting on a firearm laid on top of the desk. No one appeared to be making the first move.

"Well well." The old man's voice nails on a chalkboard, just like all those years ago. You had to stop yourself from charging at him when he spoke your name with fondness.

"Keep my name out of your mouth!" You command.

"Come on now, you can't be mad at me after everything?" His sun leathered hand patting the handgun still resting on the desk. Your eyes cut to the worn corner where the wood was lighter with indents from your head being slammed against it when you failed as a teenager and young adult.

"After all your father is the one who brought you into this," his other hand waved around the room, "Only fitting this world be the reason for his demise?" You curled your fingers into fists at your side. Bucky glances down with a creased brow, standing up a bit straighter in reaction.

"Whatever he owes, whatever he did isn't worth his life Marco." Marco chuckled. "Either I kill you or you let me pay what he owes, with interest."

Marco stands up slamming both hands on the desk yelling out in Italian, Bucky aims Betsy dead center in Marco’s chest. You catch the movement out of the corner of your eye satisfied at his reflexes. Always nice to have a super-soldier master assassin on your side.

"He is bad man,” his voice thick with broken English with his growing ire “You know better than any.”

“He lives?" Marco raises his hands up as he speaks. "No, no. That's not the code you swore to when you left me." He smiles keeping eye contact. You nod to Bucky and he lowers his gun, confused but trusting you.

"Badman is a dead man, no? Tesoro,” his works eerily soft causing you to flinch, “he deserves to pay for what he made you do."

"What you made me do." You gritted out between clenched teeth. Your hands flexed open and closed along your pant legs.

"A-ah. He brought you to me, a gift, a debt paid. He is just as guilty if not more." His voice was full of the condescension you were much too familiar with. It was like stepping back in time except you knew this old decrepit man held no fear over you and could do nothing in retaliation, nothing long-lasting at least.

"Just think about it, Tesoro.” the nickname rolling off your tongue makes you want to wretch. “I know he is your father but what would your sweet moth-" before he could finish a knife flew from your hand, planting firmly between his eyes. Not missing a moment Bucky fired in quick succession laying waste to remaining thugs in the room before they even knew their boss was dead.

Marco's voice cracks as if still trying to finish the word before going silent and crumpling across the ornate desk chair. Walking up to Marco's corpse you pulled the knife out wiping the blood on his shirt before putting it away.

Pulling out your phone you went to recent and waited for an answer.

"You did it, shithead?" Bucky could hear over the phone, his brow still furrowed. He had to wonder what kind of man was your father? If this was any glimpse, none at all.

"It's done, send the cleanup.” You pause watching the color drain from Macro’s body. “Don't ever call me again." You assert before hanging up still looking at Marco's face. Bucky took a step towards you. He stretches his arm out to place his hand on your shoulder but stilled when you spat in Marco's face.

Bucky caught the small tremors in your hands as you placed your phone back in your pocket. The ragged breath you pulled in left an ache in his chest. He was overwhelmed by the need to hold you in his embrace until you feel safe. Have you ever felt safe?

Even with everything he had done in the war and as a brainwashed HYDRA assassin he could still remember feeling loved and safe. The way his mother would card her fingers through his hair when he couldn't sleep as a child. Or how it felt when his sisters would dogpile on him. He felt safe. 

He had to wonder once more did you ever feel safe? He wasn't so sure.

"Fucking hated this place. Let's go!" You extolled, turning around to face Bucky with a haunting smile. 

This was different than his beloved murder smile. Whatever this was, he knew it was a front. It reminded him of all those smiles Steve would give him after army rejections. A smile to hide the pain.

The ride back to your car in front of your father’s shop was silent. Which between the two of you wasn't uncharacteristic but there was a newfound tension like static in the air.

What could you share with him that could ease his mind? What parts of you were left to give? Your train of thought was halted as Bucky pulled up next to your parked car.

"See you back at the compound." Bucky's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he spoke. You opened the car door, the smell of the incoming dawn wafting into the small confines of the car. You started to leave the car but paused

"I-uh," Bucky watched you from the corner of his eyes. His fingers relax their hold on the steering wheel waiting for what you had to say. "I have a place not far from here," Bucky raises an eyebrow and you grunted.

"After all that happened tonight, I'd much rather lay in bed than drive all the way upstate." Bucky nodded in agreement.

"I'll see you when you get back then Toots." You sighed, rather dramatically Bucky let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm inviting you to join you, idiot." His eyes narrowed at the name-calling. After tonight he didn't want to hear another disparaging word out of your mouth for a while, if ever. It only reminded him of how you have been treated.

"I'll come with but don't talk to me like you do your father." His tone clipped but you simply smiled back at him as you stepped out of the car texting Bucky the address.

"Thought you wanted to be my Daddy, Barnes?" He didn't miss the coquettish tone and smile but failed to reciprocate. 

"From what I can tell that man was no dad." Bucky looked down at his phone surprised how close the address was. "See you there." He finalized and you shut the door making your way to your own vehicle. 

When Bucky entered your fifth-floor apartment he wasn't sure what he'd find in a space that was entirely your own. At the compound you kept things pretty minimal, some jewelry on a dresser, clothes organized, a black and white poster of some European city during the day but no real personal effects. Hell outside of a photo Wanda gave you from a team outing there was nothing in your room that showed who it belonged to.

Bucky found it odd at first however if anyone came into his room he wasn't sure there'd be terribly too much to indicate it was his either outside. Maybe the workout bench and weights he kept when he didn't want to be in the gym with others. There was also that vintage New York Dodgers poster you bought for him, similar to the one you got for Steve. 

Seeing your apartment, it made sense to him now, you kept yourself here. The living room was full of warm tones, throw blankets that looked dangerously soft, two giant filled bookcases and photos all over the place. Soft lighting encasing the room in comfort.

"It's not much," your voice pulling him from his analysis, "but it's mine." The soft ending in your tone warmed him, it was clear you were trusting him with something no one else had seen. 

The pile of mail on the other side of the door you picked up along with dust he could see on the bookcases alluded to it being a place you hadn't seen in a while. Sensing his scrutiny you felt the need to justify yourself.

"I used to stay here more often but the compound is easier for missions," You set the pile of mail on the old writing desk across from a small kitchen. Bucky's eyes caught on a framed photo next to the mail. A young woman is holding a toddler in front of your father's butchery, the building looks newer than it does now and the woman in clothes not of a recent style.

"Who's that?" Bucky looks up to catch you stretching your arms above you with your back facing him. Watching the small of your back slowly be revealed as the shirt rises, he licks his lips rapidly losing interest in the photo. But when you turned around and caught sight of what he was referring to you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

"That's me and Mom," you turn back around. Only then does he realize she does look an awful lot like you or was it you looked like her? The stark difference was her face, it appeared softer. 

Your face often held hard lines that Bucky wanted to soften with his hands. Your edges so jagged, he longed to cut himself on them. Know you intimately, deeper levels you rarely showed. The times your face would soften the most recently have been over the past few months with him. A small part of him hoping it meant you were opening up to him in ways he could burrow inside and never leave.

Bucky set his duffle back containing Betsy and gear on the floor next to the one you had set down before grabbing the mail.

"Where your ma'?" Bucky trailed his fingers on the desk as he followed behind you slowly. You turn your head and he sees your side profile, the soft lights do little to hide the pain in your eyes.

"Same place as yours." He inhales quickly at your response. "Shower down the way there," you gesture towards a cracked open door. "Bed is that way." You gestured to the hallway opposite of bathroom door and make your way down the same hallway as he heads towards the bathroom. A good scrubbing sounded nice.

When Bucky stepped out of the shower he noticed the dark blue sweatpants and a grey shirt laying on the bathroom counter that were certainly not there before. A soft blush covered his cheeks at the thought of you walking in on him showering. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you and the past few hours. Had he been so distracted in the shower that he missed you coming in? That wasn’t like him at all. 

However, he left his guard down around you more so than he should, at least that’s what Steve had expressed concern over. Bucky shook his head, what did that punk know anyway? He couldn’t even talk to women.

After drying his hair until slightly damp he pulled the sweatpants on. They were almost too snug on him but clearly too big for you. The thought that someone else, a guy particularly, leaving them here caused an unsettling burn in his chest. He knew you weren't his but he'd be lying if he didn't relish the thought of you being so one day. Pushing the burning sensation down he made his way to the hallway you had mentioned he could find a bed.

Finding the first door he came across open he felt his jaw slide open. Your hair was down damp, wearing obscenely short sleep shorts and a tank top that strained against pebbled nipples. Swallowing away the dryness in his throat Bucky looked towards the ceiling before clearing his throat. 

"Where's the guest room?" You tilted your head at him in confusion. Turning down the sheets you crawled into the bed.

"What guest room?" Bucky eyes stopped tracing patterns in the ceiling design to look back at you in equal confusion.

"You said a bed was down the hall." Your hand gestured to the bed in reply as you lay on your side. You tried and failed to cover the smile as Bucky became flustered with realization.

"I'll take the couch." You frowned at him and patted the open space next to you.

"Don't be silly, the bed is big enough for both of us," you couldn't help the coquettish smile that pulls on your lips, "Unless you're scared of sleeping next to me."

Bucky swallows the growing lump in his throat. He wasn't scared of you, never had been regardless of some teammates’ concerns. His main concern lay with the ever-growing attraction he felt toward you. 

Bucky felt himself caving, the last time the two of you shared a bed it was after rather traumatic night terror this was different. This wasn’t comfort-based. 

"I won't bite you Bucky," bending your arm and resting the side of your head on the palm of your hand, you watch with growing interest at what the super soldier will do.

Laying down next to you Bucky folds his arms under his head and turns his head towards you with that beautiful smile that took your breath away more often than not.

"That's a shame Toots." You sputter at his response and turn towards the side table under the guise of turning the light off to hide your embarrassment, feeling the warmth in your cheeks and moving down to your chest.

With your back to him, you lay down and close your eyes, trying to push down the desire to curl up to the warmth radiating off his body. Bucky let out a huff hot air pushing against your back, he wraps his metal arm over your stomach, warm flesh arm snaking under you to pull your back to his chest.

Before you can start verbal spar over his actions he locks his arms around you, fingers curling into the softness of your abdomen. The intimacy of the touch taking away any thoughts you tried to voice. There was unfamiliar security in his touch that left you wearisome. Resigning that you wouldn’t be able to stop this, and honestly not wanting to you close your eyes once more. 

Bucky satisfied at your body relaxing into his hold he smiles against the top of your head.

“So is this a get to know the weird father-daughter relationship moment?” Bucky teased into your ear.

You groan a hand flying back to smack him in the head but he grabs it pulling it down to rest on your abdomen encased by his arm. You could practically hear your heartbeat thudding in your chest as his fingers intertwined with yours. Certain his superhuman hearing picking up on it.

“This is a go-to-sleep moment,” you hiss out. Trying to quell the fluttering in your chest.

“I’m not tired though.” Bucky whines in your ear, “Tell me a story,” his fingers curling into your palm between your fingers. Looking down at where he held your hand you could feel yourself giving in. Oh, how easy it would be to just fall for Bucky Barnes.

“There once was a little girl,” Bucky pulls you flush to him, leaning his head down to nuzzle into your neck inhaling deep. You were fairly certain he could feel the increasing pace of your pulse at the touch.

“Things were good for her, for a while,” closing your eyes you continue, letting his embrace soothe your growing unease at opening up. “She had a father who would pat her head sometimes but outside of that he had no love to give her but that was okay because her mother who loved her so much made up for the loss,”

“Sounds like a great mom,” Bucky whispers against your neck, his lips resting against your pulse.

“She was, she tried so hard to make her little girl happy,” you paused “But they knew something was different about their little girl. She broke bottles, toys, and cribs with the slightest grip of her fingers. One time she held a glass too tight and it shattered,” You smirked recalling the panic in your mother and father, time having a way to make the most macabre funny.

“That was the only time the little girl saw her mother cry.”  Though remembering your mother’s fear was not all that funny.

“After that, her mother kept smiling and telling her how special and wonderful she was. Neither of them knew what to do with their child. As the little girl grew her mother taught her to be cautious of pressure, always guiding the little girl’s tiny but powerful hands.” Bucky pulled your hand from against your stomach eyes peering from your neck. He notices the faint scars on the palms of your hand.

“Gentle hands like your holding an egg,” you mused, “That’s what her mom would say.” 

“What happened to her,” Bucky’s face so close to your neck you could feel the heat and moisture.

“She was murdered,” Bucky’s body tensed around you, your monotone recount of her death chilling. “Someone tried to rob the butchery, she stood up against them and paid the ultimate price.” 

“There were no more gentle hands, just the overwhelming drive of vengeance and a cold distant father.” You felt Bucky slowly relax around you, his head nuzzling into your neck once more. “He asked the mob for help in getting the person who did it in exchange for services. I was 11 at the time and Marco was just a business associate of my dad’s to me.”

“Then I killed that man who touched my friend I held worth to my father for once, he made a trade.” You trembled at the memory of being handed off to the mob, you could almost hear your cries at your father’s retreating figure. Bucky cocoons you with his warmth and the feel of his chest even breathing slowly reeling you back to the present.

He turns you in his embrace, laying you flat on the bed as he remains on his side. You didn’t know you had been crying until the cool pad of his metal fingers and warmth of his flesh thumb wipe them from your cheeks.

“You didn’t have a choice Toots, you were their weapon.” You shake your head in his hands.

“No you didn’t have a choice, I did. I could have left,” Bucky’s lips downturn at the omission. “I choose to kill those people for them and I will work until my dying breath to kill the right ones from now on.” Not wanting to talk about it anymore, you bury your face into his chest and sigh with content at the feel of Bucky’s embrace and smell surrounding you. 

“I’m not saying we had the same choices or the same circumstances that led us to do what we did but I will say,” Bucky pauses lifting your chin up but you keep your eyes closed.

“Don't ever tame your demons Toots, they keep you alive.” Opening your eyes you hold your breath at the sight of moonlight illuminating his face. You knew Bucky was handsome but coupled with his words and gentle touch you never believed a human being could be so beautiful to you.  It scared you. 

Burrowing your face back into his chest he lets out a soft chuckle. He wraps his arms around you, dipping his face down into your hair, inhaling deep. The two of you slowly drift to sleep. 

[lennydaisy]

EPIPHANY SERIES // OUTER BANKS // CHAPTER FOUR.

(n.) a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand. or suddenly become conscious of something that is very important to you.

                  “Care to seize the day, my friend?”

Outer Banks                                                                                                                 Season 1-                                                                                                                      FEM OC! and ?

Warnings! This chapter does have mentions of violence and panic attacks.

Here’s the link to Chapter 3 in case you haven’t read it already <3 Check it out!!

The Outer Banks isn't exactly a big island. With a population of 50,000, what do you expect? Everybody knows everybody. Kooks know Kooks. Pogues know Pogues. And unfortunately, Kooks and Pogues know each other too.

They might have tried to divide the island, but they can't divide the people.

There are no secrets in the OBX and if there is, they get found out eventually. That's what tends to happen when you're at each other's throats constantly. Anything can happen, especially when someone's reputation is on the line. Also, when you live in a community where the only thing to do this work, fish, and then work some more, even the most unsuspecting people will begin to buzz with excitement at the chance of an interesting day. Even if what they're talking about isn't true at all.

I learned this first hand when my dad went missing. Anyone and everyone will jump at the chance to start rumours, wanting to be the first one to claim they know for a fact what happened. Shocker, but these people don't know shit.

"I heard he was abducted by aliens."

"No way. Did you not see his beard? He was obviously an addict."

"Maybe he followed the mom. With children like that, I'd jump at the chance to leave too."

"Maybe they did it."

It feels like history is repeating itself.

Irritation rips through my body as I tug off my shoes, hopping in an attempt to see the damage done to my heels. Grimacing at the blister that has found its home on the back of my ankle, blood spotting around the brim of my now white, stained socks.

Pushing forward through the streets of the cut, just wanting to get home, I keep my head ducked down, walking on the balls of my feet in hopes of dodging the small stones that litter the path. The summer sun now at its highest point in the sky, beating down on me overhead as it burns my scalp, leaving a painful tingle at the crown of my head.

It's the start of the sunny season. The best time of the year. Endless nights filled with drunken rushes and hearty emotions. You lose yourself in the blaze and are completely content with never finding your way out. Shopping cart races down the uneven streets. Dancing freely on the dim-lit porch. Getting attacked by an army of mosquitos. And watching the stars twinkle from the comfort of a scratchy hammock. That's summer.

Some residents of The Cut spend their summers fishing and having disorganised garden parties. Others still have the misfortune of having to work through this obnoxious heat and have to deal with even more obnoxious Kooks.

Believe it or not, it's not the teenagers that are the biggest hassle on the island. It the elderly. And we have plenty of them. During the winter they're like hermits, never leaving the comfort of their homes. Delivery services and the postman become their best friend for four months of the year.

When summer arrives it's game over, especially for those Touron families who just wanted to get away from the bustle of the in-country. Only to be welcomed by off-the-rails pensioners.

The cliché for Fireman is to save cats from trees, right? Not at the cut. A few summers ago I had to call the fire services to collect the 83-year-old lady who managed to get herself stuck in the tree just outside the Château.

It was a weird experience. All most cult-like. The old lady laughing her head off as a group of elders cheered her on. I did try to get her to come down, but I got told to 'live a little,' and got a shoe to the face courtesy of the lady in the tree.

Point proved. They're batshit. The tiniest bit of sun drives them insane after being hauled up inside for no one else's fault but their own. Someone should tell the poor dearies that winter in the Outer Banks isn't like the ice age.

That's why what I'm currently looking at is terrifying.

In a freshly mowed lawn, all seated in orderly rows beholds what appears to be the street's resident elderly. Perfectly placed garden tables covered with toppers, bottles of wine fully on display, even though they appear to be drinking out of teacups, and the mouth-watering smell of BBQ meat. It seems like the perfect way to spend the summer afternoon.

Diverting my confused gaze from surprisingly stable elderly, I pick up the pace, limping my way past the garden. Hoping that my grumbling belly doesn't sound as loud as I believe it too.

"Did you hear about Scooter Grubbs?"

"Oh yes. Poor soul. He didn't deserve to die, he was a good man."

"Good man!? If he's a good man then Peter here's a Godsend."

"Hey!"

"I caught him in a Grady White the other day, probably stole it."

Grady White?

"It's just a coincidence. It's just a coincidence. It's just a coincidence." I thought out loud, now practically run back to the Château. My brain working a mile a minute, the conversation that I heard playing on repeat.

'Scotter Grubbs.'

'Die.'

'Grady White.'

'It's just a coincidence!'

Slowing to a walk when I spot my house, lightly as possible I tiptoe down the dirt path, my feet hating me for every stone and stick that I seem to stand on. My hands swinging back and forward, the laces of my shoes slapping against my thighs as I voice my thoughts, "It just some freaky coincidence. Maybe I've been voodooed? Maybe I just heard wrong? Yeah! That's it, I should clean my ears, I'm hearing things wrong-"

My tangent of self-explanations ease to whispers as I catch sight of Pope, alone, at our small dock, appearing to be securing the 'HMS Pogue' from becoming adrift. About to call out to my friend, wanting to tell him about the crazy gossip that I heard on my walk home, but Pope sees me nearing the Château and makes a mad dash back into my house.

'It's just a coincidence?'

Brushing off the boy's odd action, I continue my walk to the front door, wanting nothing more than to just kick my aching feet up and chill.

"Deny, deny, deny."

Pushing open the sheer porch door, the room falls into an abrupt silence. Pope finding interest in his hands. JJ flicking his lighter. John B throwing an empty beer bottle from hand to hand. And Kiara finding interest in her shoes.

Not even standing in the house yet, the door still being held in my hand, I just gaze at my friends in amusement. Licking my dry lips, I toss my trashed shoe's beside the coach that is being occupied by Kie and Pope. Not even blinking an eye, I make my way over to the straw chair, next to the recliner that holds JJ.

The usually satisfying noise of the distressed straw under my weight echos around the room with an unsettling crunch. I wait. Picking my chipped nail posh off my nails, wincing as I place my feet on the small table in front of me.

I finally close my eyes, embracing the silence of the Château. The sound of distant crickets and the odd screaming of the gulls that roam the skies bring me to an oddly calm state. My body seems to sink into the surprisingly comfortable seat despite the uncomfortable looks that I can feel being sent my way.

"JJ stole a gun and money from Scotter Grubbs' motel room!"

There it is.

Pope finally cracking under the pressure of my laidbackness. Slowly opening my eye, I catch the glares been shot in Pope's direction. The boy has never been very good at keeping secrets, I don't know what they expected.

Turning to the blonde beside me, "You have a gun?" I ask warily. Not that I don't trust JJ, I just don't know how to feel about a firearm being in my house.

He doesn't answer me. No one did.

Placing my feet back on the ground with a painful wince, I look bored at my friends, "Is no one going to talk to me? You're going to keep me in the dark?"

I still get no answer, not even a look in my direction. The air suddenly becoming too heavy for my liking, I push myself up from my chair and make my way through the house. I can read the room and clearly whatever happened they don't want me to know so, that's that.

My room hasn't changed since I was four years old. My once pink curtains now faded with the constant sun shining against them. My lopsided wardrobe that is hanging onto its hinges for dear life, overflowing with the unnecessary amount of clothes I have. My oak bedside table stained with coffee cup rings and the head of my bed that is taken over by the herd of stuffed animals that I have accumulated over the years.

Everything in this room has a memory.

Like the glow in the dark stars that I stuck to the ceiling above my bed. JJ and I had a fun time that day. Bouncing on the bed in hopes of getting at least one to stick. From time to time the odd one will fall off and slap me in the face during my slumber, but that's expected when you're roof has been leaking since you were born.

Or the name that is carved onto the windowsill. That was a long time ago. It was a different time back then. I was a different Mason back then. Over the years I've tried to convince myself to cover it up, but I can never follow through. Despite how much I hate the way it stares at me in the dead of the night, they once used to be the reason the sun would always rise the next day.

The stuffy air seeming to follow me into my haven, I push open the window inviting the sound of the rustling trees and subtle waves in my room. Taped to the window is the many memories that I have captured in time.

There's me and John B on our third birthday, with obnoxious party hats with even more obnoxious tassels. Birthday badges that are bigger than our heads, and party horns in our mouths. Our eye sparkled with nothing but innocence back then. Those two had no idea what they'd grow to be. I hope they'd be proud if they saw.

There's one from the day I met Kie. My dad took it without us knowing, both of us to busy squealing and flailing away from the lobster we had just caught. It's not my best picture, my hair blowing in every direction as I wore wellingtons that were two sizes too big. I made a life long friend that day.

My favourite photo, against my better judgment, is one taken from the day of the boat race. My friend and I holding onto each like our lives depended on it. The sides of our faces smushed together with a laughable look of discomfort in our eyes at the idea of being forced to take a picture in front of the honourable boatmen.

I've never moved house. I was born in the Château and I'll probably die in the Château. My point is, I know this house inside out. Like, to get the hot water in the shower to have to tap the back of the showerhead three times. Or how if you want to sneak out and not get caught, there a loud floorboard right in front of the door. I never snuck out though so, I wouldn't know, I've just heard about it.

I know this place like the back of my hand, from every corner to every inch. And also every sound. When the all too familiar scream of the door breaks the beckon of silence I wished upon myself, I make my way to my bed. Getting comfy, my legs in a basket, my back pressed against the headboard as I stare out the window with my floppy elephant teddy placed in between my hands.

The patter of feet entre my room. My bed dipping with the newly added weight. The windowsill humming as it's used as a seat. The subtle strumming of my guitar. And the turning of my rusty, swirly, desk chair. They're all here.

I just frown my eyebrows at each of them, refusing to be the first one to talk. I don't know what happened, that's up to them to explain it to me.

"What do you know about Scooter Grubbs?" John B, being the first to speak up, asks.

"His uh- married to Mrs Grubbs?" I guess, but it has proven that I don't know how to read a room either, my joke falling short, "I've had to kick him out of Save-A-Lot a couple of times. He was creeping out Mrs Adams after she caught him shaking the charity boxes."

Letting my serious reply linger in the air, I ask the question that I need to know the answer to, "What happened to Scooter Grubbs?" What I heard couldn't be true, I had just seen him last week, perfectly healthy.

"His body was found in the marsh this morning," Kie whispers, her fingers still gently plucking the strings of my guitar as she refused to look anywhere else.

Shit.

"It was his boat we found this morning, wasn't it?" My words echoing through the silent room. Everyone minds seeming to be running with the news. What do we do?

"It just doesn't make sense. How does a marine rat get a Grady White?" John B throws the question that everyone is thinking out. It's true, Scooter Grubbs was never seen with more than $40 in his pocket and now he's cruising around with a boat cut out for a Kook. It's odd.

"Prostitution," Pope inhales sharply, not missing a beat to voice his opinion. I click my fingers nodding at the boy who is sitting comfortably beside me on the bed, "Or a sugar daddy?" I reason but then grimace at the thought of Grubbs being a sugar baby.

"Square groupers," John B states like its obvious. Turning to Pope who pretends to understand what John B is talking about, I nudge his shoulder, "I liked ours better."

"What does that mean? JJ?" My brother points at the blonde boy who has occupied himself with my jar of shells, inspecting them closely, "Straight smugglin'," he says, placing the jar back in its place, his attention now on the conversation.

"And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck," John B promises. It makes sense. Who goes out for a boat ride during a hurricane? Someone who knows that there is no aerial surveillance and they could just fly right under the radar. It's a smart plan, but too smart for someone whose smugglin'.

"For the record," Pope starts, pulling out a wad of 100 bills that I can't help but gape at with large eyes. Scooter Grubbs had that kind of money but acted like he was homeless? Each to their own, I guess?

"If that is a smuggling ship, with illegal contraband on the inside of it... It probably belongs to someone else," Pope speaks the truth, waving the money around like its nothing to have this much cash in your hand.

'How much is there?' I thought. Deciding to find out, I snatch the wad from Pope's hand and begin to count it, "I'm glad you're here Pope," I muse, now at $2,000, "You guys have clearly never dealt with smugglers before. They're dirty pigs. Once they find out that..." finishing my counting, I place the notes on my bed, "$10,000 is missing there stash... Sorry to break it to you, but we'll be the prostitutes after that."

The four pairs of eyes on me causes me to shrink back slightly, "What?" I blink, "Did you guys forget about the Komodo Dragons? I can't get caught by smugglers, I'm probably already on a hit list."

"Minor details," Kie chips in, brushing off the hit list comment. "Taking it would be catastrophically stupid," Pope argues, siding with me, not being fond of the idea of being on a smuggler's radar with the way his body shakes at the thought.

"Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time," speaking of catastrophically stupid, JJ throws his pennies worth on the table, reaching forward for the cash, "All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck."

I can't believe we're even considering this. Stealing from a man who was just found dead not even a few hours ago. When did we stoop that low?

"Until then, we just lay low," JJ suggests, sitting comfortably against the windowpane with this dirty boats resting on the foot of my bed,  "Just act normal."

Having enough of the discomfort, I shove his feet off my bed and look him straight in the eye, "As normal as we can with a gun, right?" I ask, referring to the firearm that is just casually hanging out his back pocket.

Nodding my head at the boy, "Promise me you'll use it responsibly?" Smiling tightly at JJ as I hold out my pinky. He just laughs out a breath, looking around for any help from the other three in the room. Each just giving him the eye, all agreeing with what I had asked.

I don't think he understands. He has a gun. A firearm. They're dangerous and it's not that I don't trust JJ, it just makes me uncomfortable and scared that one slip up with that thing and JJ's future could be uncertain. All our futures could be on the line if he doesn't handle it like an adult.

Locking his pinky with mine gently, he looks me dead in the eye, straight-faced, "I promise."

Satisfied with this, I nod my head, getting comfortable on my bed again, "Oh, and before I forget," I start, making sure every one of them is paying close attention to what I have to say, "Don't leave me in the dark again. Do not trust me?"

Jumping up at my question, "No. No, it's not that," John B, now sitting in front of me, quickly shooting down my assumptions, "It's just... we know you'd want us to do the right thing," he spills gently as the other three just nod at what the boy said, heads down in thought.

"At least we acknowledge that we're doing the wrong thing," I laugh lightly at the irony of the situation. It's true, I want us to do the right thing. I was hoping that they would report the wreck to the coast guard and we'd get a finder fee. Fair, it wouldn't have been as much as they found in that motel room, but it would have still been more than we had before.

At the word 'we' their eyes snap in my direction and I can't help the small smile that is creeping its way across my face, "Yes, I said we," I confirm, "I'm not letting you guys take all the glory for our downfall.

Little laughs being shared, seeming content with our resolve. Pope is the first to speak up, "So, what do we do?"

Exchanging glances with Kie, both having the same thought in mind, "Kegger!" we cheer with happiness. Sensing no objection against the idea, especially after the conversation we just had.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

The Boneyard. Misleading name because as far as I know there are no bones in the Boneyard. I think everyone on the island has heard about the boy who broke his jaw because he fell after attempting to climb the dead trees that litter the beach. It's similar to that story your teacher tells you about the boy who swung on his chair and split his head open.

Keggers at the Boneyard are a summer must. Something about an aluminium keg filled with cheap beer is very appealing when you're under the blazing sun and being swept away with the winds of the waves. Chugging away your worries as you dance with someone who you'll most likely never see again.  

You can't fully understand the Outer Banks without understanding the Boneyard, its like a right of passage. If you're in, you're in, and if you're not, well, see you later.

It's like a three-layered burrito. There are me and my friends, the working class who put their blood, sweat, and tears into this island. There's the trust fund babies, the Kooks, who have never seen a hard days work in their life. Mostly likely just been dropped off in their stepdads range after a tough day at a 5-star boarding school.

Lastly, there are the Tourons. Or airheads, if we're being realistic. They come here for a week's vacation with their families and all of a sudden they claim that they want to spend the rest of their lives in the OBX. They're the chum for the sharks, fresh meat that everyone seems to throw themselves at.

"It's kinda weird when on T.V, we see people die, and they just sitting there," I overhear Pope attempting to flirt with a cute, blonde Touron, "but in actuality, they would be shitting and farting up a storm."

My nose begins to burn with the beer that just shot up it, as I hunch over myself coughing up a lung. The Touron boy who I was just casually talking too before, is now patting me on the back, asking if I'm okay, "I'm fine," I croak, my throat stinging as I swallow the rest of my beer.

"If you'll excuse me," I apologise to the boy, still cough as I speed walk over to my friend who fails to see the look of discomfort that is smeared across the girl's face.

Tapping Pope in the shoulder, interrupt his tangent about unrealistic standards of dying in movies, "Can I steal him for a minute, I'm so sorry," I excuse, as the girl nods her head rapidly, running at the chance to getting out of the conversation with Pope.

"What are you doing?" Pope whines, tugging free his arm from my grip that pulled him away from the blonde girl.

"No offence Pope, but we have to teach you how to flirt," I sympathise at the boy's failed attempt to impress the girl. "What's wrong with my flirting?"

Does he really want me to tell him why talking about people shitting after they die is not the best conversation starter? The boy looked genuinely looked confused, his doe eyes not seeing the picture. It's kinda cute.

"Absolutely nothing Pope," I pat him on the shoulder, not having the heart to tell him, so I won't, but I know someone who must definitely will, "Why don't you go talk to Kie about how great of an Aquarius she is?" I suggest, not giving him time to reply, pushing him in the direction of our friend, who too, just scared of a Touron. Fitting.

Empty cup in hand, I make my way over to the keg. Stepping over those lounging on the cold sand and bumping into those who drunkenly dance with their spirits high. Saying the odd 'Hey' and 'How's it going' here and there to the wasted teens that crowd the beach.

Standing patiently behind the person who is filling up their cup, I look around the beach spotting John B and JJ chugging their beers with a small circle cheering them on. I grin at the sight of JJ smashing his cup on the sand in victory, whilst Kie slaps him on the arm, probably ordering him to pick it up.

Turn back to the keg, I see the person just standing there, raising their cup to their mouth as they gaze out at the ocean. Clearing my throat, hoping they would move out the way, but they didn't. So, I try again. Nothing.  

"Excuse me," I say, now standing beside the figure as I grab the streamer that they refuse to move from blocking. Looking up expectingly at the person, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest who it is. Shaking my head, I keep my attention on my cup.

"Good turn out," Topper comments, still not even glancing in my direction as he observes the beach. 

Frowning, not understand why he is trying to even make conversation with me. I just shake my head, "Yeah," my voice laced with uncertainty, spinning around wanting to get away from the boy.

"Hey Mason," he calls out before I could leave, he attention now on me, "I want you to stay away from Sarah, alright?"

Tilting my head, not understanding why he's asking me this, "What?", but then it hit me, "Oh," I can't help but laugh. Toppers face twisting with irritation, jaw locked, as I try to compose myself after my drink spills on my hand.

"You don't have to worry Topper. I don't swing that way," still giggling as I reassure the boy that I don't want in on his 'territory', "Not fully anyway," I shrug, gulping my drink with raised eyebrows.

"I'm serious, Macy," he huffs, moving closer to me as I take a little step back halting his actions. About to question the boy's intentions, I spot the islands princess clad in a flowy summer dress, climbing onto the washed-up buoy.

"And I'm serious when I say you should probably get your girlfriend before she hurts herself," pointing him in the direction of the girl before waltzing past him, not wanting to be in his presence any longer than I need too.

"What did he want?" JJ asks, not even giving me the chance to sit down first, ahead of him spitting his distaste towards the Kook. "Nothing," I say, sliding in next to him on the dead tree, "Just Topper being Topper," my response being enough to ease his mind as he goes back to his beer.

The first Kegger of the summer was going smoothly. Everybody was having a good time, just drinking and getting to know each other. We had many beer chugging competitions, all of which triggered my acid reflux. We played limbo, which Pope surprisingly was an expert at. We even had a bootleg karaoke machine, where everyone had the pleasure of listening to me sing Céline Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'.

The warm, long, summer day just as quickly turned to night. The shining sun saying 'Goodbye' as the full moon said 'Hello', illuminating us with its white light. People were calling it a night, exhausted after a day worth of drinking. The others, however, just seemed to come more alive. The magic of the moonlight fuelling their desires to dance all night long.

"Your hair," I giggle as JJ fills up three cups, his hair sticking out in every direction as the cold breeze blows his mane over his forehead, "What's wrong with my hair?"

The alcohol now running wildly through our bloodstream. JJ has had to practically hold me up after nearly falling at least five times in the last two minutes. I don't care. I was having fun with my friends. I'm letting loose. I deserve it. Not sure my dad would be too happy with the underage drinking, but I know he's glad that I'm having fun.

"Can you at least fix it for me?" JJ asks with the gleam of the moon reflecting in his dilated eyes. Nodding, I reach my free hand up, hesitantly, but gently, beginning to brush my fingers through his knotted hair. The blonde seeming to be closer than before, causing my hand to slow to a stop. I can't help but just take a moment to wonder, 'when did his eyes get so blue?'

My cheeks tinting pink at my thoughts. I blink away from his steady eyes that seemed to call for mine like a two magnets call for each other. Hoping he didn't feel the sudden change that I notice lingering in the cool air, I attempt to act normal as I erratically rub my fingers through his locks, making them messy again, before darting off laughing as I hear him call for me, "Get back here, May!"

Swaying, just like the liquids in my cup, I, not so steadily, making my way over to John B, who had found fascination in staring out at the tides. "Johnny B," I squeal, using his body as a shield from JJ.

The blonde had easily caught up to me, pulling me away from behind my brother, he tucks his arms under mine, spinning us around quickly. My legs flying around wildly as my beer splashes onto the sand, "JJ!" I beg, but can't help the rumble of giggles that pass my lips.

Stumbling as my feet are placed gently back on the sand, I watch as JJ snatches the half-empty cup from my hand, "What is in this?" he grins, pulling an unsure face as he takes a whiff of my drink, going to pass it to John B, "Hey bro, your sisters drinking this shit."

Missing my buzz, I try to grab the cup out of his hand. JJ just moves out of my staggering reach, his eyes seeming to be elsewhere, "Oh, wait. Hey, hey. Hey, Sarah!"

What is he doing?

I watch as JJ calls out to the Kook girl who was trying to walk past us, hand-in-hand with her boyfriend. The girl smiles slightly at the obviously drunk boy, "Hi," she greets and continues to walk away.

JJ is very persistent. It's one of his many traits. Now, when you mix his persistence with a bit of alcohol,  you either end up agreeing to things you usually never would, courtesy of his constant need for adventure and thrill. Or he'll push too far, not knowing to stop when it comes to certain people.

"Sarah, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?" he pitches like a salesman, holding the cup like it's a rare and expensive delicacy. When in reality, it’s just a mix of vodka and sprite that some Touron mixed for me.

"No, thanks," she declines politely, not really for a conversation, noticing herself that the boy was drunk. 'That's probably why he was talking to her,' I reason.

Drunk JJ is unpredictable. It can go one of two ways; He's either extremely attached or extremely disattached. He'll either want to hold you or you have to hold him. It's either you crying or him. There is no in-between when it comes to JJ. He's either on one side of the scale or the other. Even when sober, his emotions still run high, but give him a little bit of happy juice and you've just signed up for a foggy night.

"Is it not fancy enough for you?" he asks, now slightly pushing it as John B subconsciously eggs him on with drunken chuckles. I can't help, but just watch, as Sarah reaches back her hand for Topper to take. The boy has just been standing with his chest puffed up at the fellow blonde who is addressing his girlfriend.

"Hey, you know what? I'll take it," Topper suggests, his voice sounding deeper as the stumbles slightly, placing a friendly hand on JJ's shoulder, "Thank you, man. I appreciate it," he slurs, trying to grab the cup from JJ's hand.

"That's nice of you, Topper, but I didn't ask you," he points out laughing, moving the drink from Toppers reach as he points at him accusingly, "If you said pretty please, maybe?" he pretends like such simple words would change his mind.

"Oh, pretty please?" Topper laughs along, his jaw clenching at the joke.

I can tell Topper is drunk. Topper's a weird drunk. Kinda like JJ, but also completely the opposite. When Topper drinks he gets angry at everything, thinking that everyone wants to pick a fight with him. I don't know if its a guy thing? but it's definitely a Topper thing. He can't handle alcohol, I've told him this before. His emotions won't allow him to just drink and that's it. He always has something to prove when he's drunk, and it frankly ticks me off.

"Sarah," JJ tries again, holding the drink out for the girl to take, "You can have it," completely ignoring her red-faced boyfriend. It’s no surprise that JJ is proud of himself, he struck a nerve in Topper. Pissing off Kooks is what he was born to do and frankly, he does it well.

I've never told JJ this, but Kooks are scared of him. It easy to see. Every fight JJ has had, I've always had to clean up the mess. He always jokes that 'you should see the other guy', but I don't have to. JJ can hold his own and is willing to throw it down anywhere if anyone disrespects him or the people he cares about. They're always unfair though, 4 on 1, 6 on 1, it doesn't matter, because JJ always wins in the end, despite coming out looking the worst sometimes.

Right now Topper is the perfect example of that. Having enough of JJ's persistence, he shoves the cup back making me gasp was the cold liquids splash over my shirt and sticks to my hair. That was enough for JJ. Clenching his fist tightly on the front of Topper shirt, lifting him off the ground slightly with clouded eyes and a set jaw.

John B, Sarah, and I were all watching the scene unfold between the two blondes, being quick to jump in when it gets physical. Placing a firm hand on JJ's shoulder I push him back with John B, who blocks his vision from Topper, who too, is being dragged away by Sarah.

"You're so funny, man" JJ shouts over to Topper. John B trying to calm him down, snapping him out of it.

The tide had made its way closer to land, meaning we're all in close quarters with each other, all seated at the same part of the beach. It was no surprise when the small inconvenience caught the eyes of the party-goers. Pope is one of them, as he quickly rushes over to his friends.

"Diry Pogues!" Topper insults, breaking free from Sarah's grip, just to spit in our faces. John B wastes no time, shoving him harshly away from us, earning more attention.

I didn't see it coming, and I assume neither did John B. Topper marches his way over to my brother, swinging his fist at his face. 

Choking on the cold breeze, I go running for my brother who fell into the waves at the force. Pope being busy holding back the thrashing JJ, Kie quickly jumps in, wrapping her arms around me tightly from behind, stopping me from moving closer.

"We're supposed to be incognito, remember?" I think that plan went straight out the window when we decided to have a kegger and openly allowed our sworn enemies to join. There is nothing incognito about anything that is happening right now.

'Fight!'

I wriggle in Kie's arms as I helplessly watch Topper kick John B in the gut, pushing him into the ice-cold water again.

'Fight!'

The crowd around us seems to be getting bigger and bigger. My ears ringing at the excessive chanting.

'Fight!'

John B tumbles around the waves, trying to get up to his feet again, but Topper won't let him. Kicking him again whilst he's still down.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, alright?"

'Fight!'

Call it blind rage or whatever the hell you want, but I cannot describe to you the way that Topper's words stopped my heart. It felt like I was stabbed. My constant thrashing caused Kie's arms to give in with tiredness.

Maniacally, my wild eyes search the mob as a preditor would their prey. I spot it, grasped between the fingers of a stranger. Pulling the bottle harshly from their hands, my breathing becoming erratic as I stumble my way down to the oceanfront. My sight set on my target.

"Mason!"

"No! Macy stop,"

"May!"

The calling of my name went in one ear and out the other. The only sound I could hear was the smashing of the bottle as it collided with Topper's head. The beach seemed to fall into silence. For a moment all I could hear was my blooding pumping through my veins. I can feel my heart in my throat.

I feel frozen in time. Unable to move as I watch the shards of glass dance under the yellow moonlight. The water rushing past my ankles. My feet sinking into the wet sand. My breath is uneven. The sharp bottle top that I was clutching tightly, slips through my fingers, getting washed away by the tide.

Topper, after a few seconds of blank staring, feels the crown of his head. Turning around, fingers stained red. His dead, black eyes piercing into mine, filled with unwavering bewilderment.

I want to blame the alcohol, or the cold, for the way my knees are chittering, but after seeing my brother get punched, I became stone-cold sober. I refuse to blink, not wanting to look away from the boy that is making his way slowly over to me.

My voice seems to be gone, holding my hands out pathetically, not wanting him to come any closer. My cheeks flushed red at the cold whipping winds. My eyes stinging with moisture as I wait for him to react.

The crashing of the waves and the chanting of the crowd become audible to my ears again. My face being pushed into someone's chest, pulling me away before John B could tackle a distracted Topper to the ground.

Fists smashing with flesh. Grunts, groans, and drunken cheers polluting the air. It was too much.

My lungs struggling to grasp a sliver of air, all in a state of panic. My ear pressed firmly against the person's chest, listening to the drumming of their heartbeat. My hands tucked tightly around the fabric of their shirt, just wanting to feel something.

My vision blurred as I watch Topper push my brothers face into the water, "He's drowning him," I swallow the lump in my throat, whispering in horror, watching my twin thrash around helplessly. It doesn't feel real.

A shiver dances it way up my spine, barely registering that it was JJ that was holding me before he passes my quivering figure over to an accepting Kie.

"Yeah, you know what that is," I hear JJ say, but I had enough for the night. Hiding my face in the crook of Kie's neck, forcing my eyes shut, not wanting to see anymore. But I didn't have to see it. I heard it. The gentle click of the safety seemed to echo across the silent beach, "Your move, broski."

'He's got a gun.'

The sound of pounding footsteps falls into rhythm with my erratic heartbeat. I could hear the blood rushing to my ears. My whole body feels like its on fire. My chest feels like it's going to explode. I can't breathe.

'Don't make me drown you like your old man.'

Something's wrong with me.

I can feel it welling up inside me.

It won't go away.

I didn't realise I was standing on my own again until my knees gave in. My head pounding on beat with the gunshots.

"John B!"

"May!"

Chapter Four: FIN!

A bit of a long chapeter, but I didn’t want to split it.

This was fun to write. Clearly Mason has some insecurities when it comes to being left out, or thinking that people don’t trust her. And this with be explored the further we go. There is a reason behind this fear.

I really struggled to write the fight scene, but I hope I got the general point across.

What did you think?

The next chapter will be the end of episode one. I feel like I’ve been writing for ages, but we still have another 9 episodes to go...

I hope you enjoyed that chapter <3

Also. if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters just let me know and I will for sure do that!

*TAGLIST*

@xshinytrashcanx​ @prejudic3​ @annoylinglyaries​ @obxlife​ @bananasfromtarget​

[sleephyjhs]

You Come Out as Bisexual (Reaction)

[ requested / masterlist ]

a/n :: i’ve watched many coming out videos and have asked people who have come out themselves about their experience, but as this is something i’ve never done, i apologise if it seems unrealistic or reaching at some points.

KSJ

You’d spent the whole week figuring out how you were going to tell Seokjin, your best friend of many years, that you were bisexual. For the first time after months of different partners and experiences, you finally felt comfortable in the identity you had decided for yourself. Now that your parents were out of the way, the next person was Seokjin.

All in all, Jin was a very open and accepting person. No matter what you had to tell him before, he always seemed to take it better than you expected. Despite your certainty he would be just fine with your determined sexuality, a small fragment of you couldn’t help but worry.

You chose the car as the place to break it to him. Although there were thousands of better locations to come out, you worked out that a moving car lowered tb e possibility of him being able to walk out on you.

After a selection of karaoke songs and still a decent half hour to your destination, you turned down the volume to get his attention, “There’s something I want to tell you, Jin,” he raised his eyebrows without saying a thing to let you know he was all ears, “I’m bisexual.”

There was a brief pause between your words and his response; a pause that felt like forever, “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Well, your sexuality doesn’t negatively impact me or anybody else so there’s nothing for me to be mad about. But hopefully, you’re happier knowing more about yourself and your identity than you perhaps did before. And so I’m happy for you.” Seokjin flashed you a smile. Your eyes couldn’t help but become watery at his interesting but accepting reply to your news. Thanking him would never do your relief justice.

MYG

You knew well that Yoongi’s schedule was packed to the brim. He’d hardly come home in the past week. Sleeping at the studio every other night had become his routine.

Tonight, however, he’d assured you that he would be there to spend what little time he had with you. What he didn’t know is that you were preparing to tell him a secret you’d kept to yourself for a while now.

After three years of dating, you should have known you could have told Yoongi anything. But for some reason, announcing your sexuality to him felt a thousand times more difficult. You’d never seen him properly angry and your biggest fear was that tonight would be the first time.

You gave Yoongi a little while to settle down after coming home. Eating together wasn’t something you were able to do often, so you took your time to enjoy it while it lasted, “Can I talk to you about something?”

He nodded aimlessly, still chewing the last few strips of beef, “I’ve been thinking about this for some time, I just hope it doesn’t change anything between us,” You started, which caught his definite attention. Yoongi held your stare as you spluttered, “Yoongi, I’m bisexual.”

You watched with sullen eyes as his face fell to the table. Was he just processing your words, or was he reconsidering your entire relationship? It wasn’t unusual for Yoongi to fall silent at times, but sudden anxiety couldn’t help but fill your mind, “So I’ve got twice the competition now?”

Yoongi raised his eyes again to reveal a gummy smile, “This changes nothing, Jagi. I’m glad you felt able to tell me though.” He reached out for your shaky hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I’m happy you can trust me.”

JHS

Throughout your vacation with Hoseok, you couldn’t help but wonder when the best time to break your news to him was. Actually, you wondered if there was a best time. You had no doubt he would be accepting regardless, but a small part of you couldn’t help but worry.

On the morning of your last day at the villa, you made your way down to the kitchen where Hoseok had already prepared you a breakfast for the day ahead of you, “Good morning lovely, did you sleep well?” His beaming greeting couldn’t lower your anxiety that you awoke with. You simply nodded at his question and slid onto a barstool, “Are you alright?”

“Actually,” you began, fiddling with your nails, “there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Hoseok widened his eyes and slipped onto the seat opposite you, placing the last bowl of fruit in between you.

“I’m all ears, what’s wrong?”

You took a final deep breath, “Hoseok, I think I’m bisexual. I’ve been wondering whether to tell you or not because I’ve been scared of your reaction but-“ Despite your deep breath, you couldn’t stop pent up tears from rolling down your cheeks.

“No, jagi,” Hobi cooed, rushing around the island to comfort you, “you didn’t have to be scared, everything’s alright! How long have you kept it from me?”

He wiped away your tears with his sleeve, “A few months. I just didn’t want you to think I wanted to break up or anything-“

“I don’t think that at all. I’m happy that you’re able to understand yourself better now.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, and handed you the spoon he laid on the counter for you, “Come in, let’s eat something. There’s a long day ahead honey.”

KNJ

Namjoon had always been the person you relied on for your advice. Even the worst situations you had found yourself in could seemingly be answered by him. You texted him to alert him you had a new dilemma, and within minutes he’d invited you to your local coffee shop.

In half an hour, you made your way to the meeting place, only to find Namjoon sat at a table at the back with his order and yours before him. Since you could see a few pale sugar sachets on the table, you made your way over to him, not forgetting to brace yourself to receive his advice.

After a couple minutes of smiley greetings, Namjoon asked you to elaborate on what was playing on your mind, “How would you go about telling your parents something important without being cheesy?”

He stared at you blankly for a few seconds and proceeded to drop his chin slightly, “Oh my, you’re pregnant.”

“What? No, God no. I’ve been meaning to come out as bisexual for a while now-“ you paused mid-sentence, realising swiftly that you hadn’t meant to blurt the last part to him.

Avoiding his eye contact was difficult, so you instead faced your twiddling thumbs which laid softly in your lap, “You didn’t mean to tell me that just now, did you?” All hopes you had that Namjoon hadn’t heard you melted. Now all you had to do was face his criticism.

You shook your head in response to his inference, “I forgot that you didn’t already know. I’m sorry if it’s upset you.”

“Why would it upset me? It’s your love life, not mine. I’m glad you’ve been able to come to terms with it.” A smile spread from dimple to dimple as he took another sip of his americano, “All it means is you’re now officially getting more action than me.”

Regardless of how much of a good friend he was to you, a playful punch to the shoulder couldn’t be helped.

PJM

Ever since you were little, you had considered your twin brother, Jimin, to be your best friend. Eventually, the two of you came to share everything that happened in your person life. This time, however, it took you more time than usual.

Jimin was the last person in your life that you hadn’t opened up to about your sexuality. Many years had been spent coming to terms with a part of you that had caused too many sleepless nights, and now that you’d found your solution, you wanted to share it with him.

The last concert of their Seoul series had come to an end, and the day before, Jimin had provided you with backstage passes to hang out afterwards. To beat the rush of adrenaline-filled fans, you headed out during their ending ments to be able to greet them as they came back.

“You made it!” Your attention was drawn away from your phone by the excited greeting deliver red by your brother. He jogged over to you with the little energy he had left and embraced you tightly, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” you laughed into his ear, before going to congratulate the rest of the members for completing their tour successfully. You tried to distract yourself from what you were really there to do, but it didn’t work, “Is there a place I can talk to you? Alone?”

Jimin guided you into a smaller vanity room and closed the door behind you, “What’s up? Did something happen?”

You shook your head, “No. There’s something I’ve told a lot of other people but I haven’t been able to tell you. I wanted to do it in person-“

Jimin raised his eyebrows as his eyes hollowed in concern for his sibling, “I’m bisexual.” In light of your news, Jimin leaned back and sighed in relief.

“You had me so worried for a second! Ahh I’m so happy for you!” Being the cuddly brother he was, Jimin couldnt resist bouncing from the sofa and embracing you, not forgetting to comfort you meanwhile.

KTH

When you both had enough troubles, you and your boyfriend, Taehyung, would retreat to the bedroom to share with one another and come to your own solutions. His intentive listening and soft spoken easily made you feel at easy, and so you picked this time to tell him your newest trouble.

Sexuality had always been a concern of yours, as you were never able to settle on what fitted you best. Coming to terms with your bisexuality felt like the biggest weight lifted from your shoulders, now all you had to do was open up to those closest to you.

Without your initiation, Taehyung called a ‘duvet meeting’ as you had nicknamed them. You listened closely to his concerns about his upcoming comeback and tried your best to console him as much as you could. The two of you had very different life experiences, but somehow still understood each other perfectly, “Can I tell you something too?”

“Of course you can, what’s up?” Taehyung replied, refusing to pull his eyes away from yours.

You breathed in, praying that he wouldn’t become angry at your news, “I think I’m bisexual. Actually, I know I am.”

His dimples fell from his rosy cheeks as he processed what you had said. You have him the time to think of how to respond, “What does this mean for us? Are you trying to tell me something else too..?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Tae. It’s just a part of me that I wanted to share with you. I just need support, that’s all.” You explained, taking his hand from under the pillow and winding your fingers around his, “I don’t want anything to change.”

“Then it won’t,” He smiled, pulling the covers from your waists up to your shoulders, “You’ve got all my support, lovely.”

JJK

Growing up with Jungkook meant you followed each other everywhere and knew things about the other that nobody else did. When he came to Seoul yo train as an idol, you followed quickly to continue your studies.

When possible, it was difficult to find you separated. Whether you sat in on a dance practice or joined him in the gym, it felt strange when you weren’t together.

Jungkook has always been open-minded, which was one of the many traits you shared. You had to hope that opening up about your sexuality wouldn’t suddenly close his mind.

As soon as your work shift had ended, you headed through to the company, where you soon found Jungkook preparing a cup of ramen in the lounge. Of course he was, when wasn’t he hungry? As he witnessed you enter, he pulled another one down from the cupboard and made it to your liking. As he was the better chef between you, you left it to him.

Jungkook placed it down before you, but didn’t hesitate to start eating before he’d sat down, “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”

You inhaled, praying that this wouldn’t be the end of your longest childhood friendship, “I’ve been thinking a lot recently and.. I think I’m bisexual. Actually, I know I am. I know it’s not really anybody’s business but, it’s still important to me.”

Jungkook let his disposable chopsticks sink to the bottom of the cup as he processed your newest secret, “So, I still have a chance with you?”

You widened your eyes as you stared at his serious expression. Had he really just confessed to you? Jungkook was one of the best pranksters you knew; it was difficult to tell between his genuine and fake seriousness, “I’m kidding!” He giggled, clapping mockingly as he finished another bite of ramen, “No but really, I’m glad you look happier now; miserable doesn’t suit you well. Just eat your ramen before I eat it.”

^ i am genuinely so sorry this took so long! school hit me harder than i thought it would. also thank you for clarifying in a different ask about not having to be romantic, i appreciate it! 💗