#to be clear: I love my inhaler I would never diminish it’s place in my life

[asterdeer]

being an asthmatic is weird occasionally despite it being a common thing because all anyone knows is “weird kid has to use inhaler when he gets panicked or overexerts physically” which, sure, that’s the life threatening part of it, but no one ever talks about laughing for longer than ten seconds and giving yourself a cough, a gallon of loose mucus in the throat, and a sore chest for the next two hours afterward

[vee-vee-writes]

Request: Opening the flood gates (Alucard x reader)

Request: "Hi! if it’s not to much, can you do an Alucard x fem! reader who tends to ball up her emotions? whenever she’s sad or frustrated she just keeps it all in. and then Alucard decides to ask her what's wrong and that’s her breaking point. idk if this makes sense but I hope it does! <3"

A/N: my apologies that this took me so long, things have been a bit hectic lately! I also made this gender neutral, I hope you don't mind.

(Y/N) had never been the most vocal when it came to expressing emotions and yet in the past weeks, Adrian had felt his partner drifting further and further from him. It had all begun with the shifting of the villagers into their newly established Țepeș-Belmont estate. Adrian had left (Y/N) behind to protect the knowledge stored in the vaults below the castle while he travelled to help the nearby village. When he returned, he did so with at least fifty villagers in tow.

Initially (Y/N) had seemed excited by the prospect of new people but this excitement had soon diminished. A sulky and stormy gloom had taken over (Y/N's) once sweet and beaming smile whenever Adrian spoke to them about matters pertaining to the villagers perhaps permanent residency. It had taken Adrian aback, (Y/N) were not one to turn away from helping those in need so to see them in such a state was unusual.

Naturally, Adrian decided the most logical decision was to simply ask (Y/N) what was wrong. So, on a warm afternoon not long into the stay of the villagers, Adrian plucked up the courage to lead (Y/N) away into the privacy of the castle. They had followed silently as he led them by the hand to his office and upon reaching the premise, had simply cocked an eyebrow at the dhampir. Adrian cleared his throat, "What's wrong? Ever since I came back with the villagers you’ve been distant."

(Y/N's) nostrils flared and they sharply inhaled as they rolled their shoulders back. "What's wrong? What's wrong! What do you think is wrong Adrian?" (Y/N) snapped fiercely at their partner. Adrian stepped back slightly, shocked by (Y/N's) sudden outburst. "This place was supposed to be our home, but you brought a bunch of strangers into without consulting me! It's not even the fact that you brought them here but that the two of you have excluded me from any decision made. Not to mention ever since you came back from the village you've spent all your time with that godforsaken woman! The only time I see you is when we go to bed!" (Y/N) angrily snarked. The flood gates had burst, and they would not be closed anytime soon.

Adrian opened his mouth to calmly retort before trailing off to think about what they had said. In this time a few stray tears of frustration had begun to trek down his love’s cheeks. "You're right. We decided to make this place our home; a center of knowledge from which we could teach the masses in Wallachia the knowledge of science. Instead, I invited the village to stay here, and Greta and I have made all of the decisions" Adrian conceded, "I know you've grown to care about the villagers, especially the children, and this is your home as much as mine. You have just as much right to make decisions about them staying here too. I do wish you had told me this sooner though, instead of bottling it all up" Adrian carefully stroked the tears away from their eyes before cupping their cheek in a comforting gesture. "And you don't have to be jealous of Greta. She's simply in charge in the village which is why I have spent so much time with her recently " Adrian assured, "after all we've been through together, you're the only one for me."

Taglist: @awkwardspontaneity

[rumblelibrary]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a Zemo or Laszlo x reader where he comes home early to find his significant other laying on the couch in their room feeling lonely or depressed and him finding out they felt like this for a while they just kept it hidden form him?

To Stay [Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader]

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: mention of depression

Author’s note: Not me going through a rough patch and using this request as a catalyst. Thank you for allowing me to write for you, if anyone is on a rough moment too, hold on, I hope I can give you some solace through Helmut.

When Helmut entered your apartment, holding a white little box in his gloved hand he tried hard to make sure to be extra quiet. He was out for some meetings trip, knowing both the politics and the underground ways of the world made him extremely dangerous, but also extremely busy to keep the reins of all his businesses, forcing him to leave you alone more than he wanted.

Lately you have been growing distant, but you worked a lot, you were always onto some personal or work project, so he imagined you were just tired. When he called you, you always sounded tired, sleepy or at least that’s what you said to him.

He looked down at the white box in his hand proudly as he wanted indeed to give you a little treat, he left it on side taking off his coat and gloves before noticing a soft light in the living room.

He moved instinctively, the left hand on his side grasping his gun, the fear that somebody could ever hurt you, no matter all the precautions he took, always hunting him.

He moved quickly along the wall, peaking in only to see your leg hanging out of the couch, the tv turned on but with no sound.

He frowned, it was the middle of the night, maybe you fell asleep. Not sure about his own intuition he moved along the couch finding you awake, your eyes looking puffy but, more than that, empty.

“Y/N”

You jolted up seeing him

“Helmut”

Your words died in your mouth, you wanted to say something, anything, you smiled but your smile was empty, you could feel it but you couldn’t force it more than that.

“Welcome back”

You said as a new wave of hatred for yourself hit on you. He was back from his business travel, he could have never come back, you could at least show some more passion, excitement, anything, But it all died on you as soon as you tried, you felt numb inside, heavy.

You parted your lips, you felt your mouth dry as you opened it a bit mimicking the presence of words that were not there and resulted in just a “I am sorry”

To see you like this was pure torture to his eyes, who dared to reduce you in this way? The confusion and part of anger took over in his chest, but he sat down beside you.

“My love, what happened? “ he asked without many twirls of words, his hand touching onto your ankle as you sat on your side, facing you.

You were stiff under his touch, something was pushing him away within you.

“I… I don’t know, I mean it feels all too much”

A thorn dipped inside his stomach as you said that, his eyes scanning yours silently urging you to continue, to try make him understand

“It is not today” you admitted “it is not you, it is just, it is too much, I have this sense of emptiness, of loss inside, and it keeps growing and I can’t enjoy anything” you continued, tears teasing your eyes as you looked on your right trying to avoid his gaze. Maybe if you avoided it long enough the tears would disappear or maybe he won’t at least not notice how hard it was for you to hod them back.

“I feel like I am grazing through the surface, like there’s something forbidden, something I can’t grasp and it hurts and no matter how much I do, how much I work, how much I study, buy new things, pamper myself, I feel like there’s a void in me that can’t be filled, a flaw that I can’t reach, that I can’t hide or cure and everyday it grows through me and it is so strong and visible, and I feel like..”

You stopped as tears were now rolling down your cheeks, the saddest smile of acceptance adorning your beautiful features in such a cruel way, your tongue slipping out looking for words, words to make him understand. With that little gesture you capture a mean tear that slipped too close to your lips, the salty taste bringing you to realise that for the first time you’re admitting it.

“… like it will become all that I am, and that I won’t ever feel like before ever again but this” you stopped again, shaking your head lightly as your thoughts twirled in your head like a vortex and yet that hole in your stomach was growing more painful and present “this failure”.

Helmut could swear his heart broke, to see you like this, to see you suffer so visibly, so evidently and the way your bust bowed forward like the pain in your mind was damaging your body. The fact he couldn’t just stand up and shot in the face whoever made you feel like this.

His lips pressed hard against each other, his hands moving to reach for yours.

You hesitated, he could see you didn’t want that much of contact, you didn’t want him to hold you, not now.

“Y/N” he begun, he took a deep breath in as in all his life he was a master of words, but he never felt that something he would say could matter so much, not even when he was at the mercy of the very Captain America he felt doubt into choosing his words.

“This feeling that you have, it is the most terrible somebody can feel, I see it, I see your pain” he said softly, he wasn’t going to deny it or diminishing it, he danced the tango with depression for years and he cured it with vengeance and loneliness until you brought a new light on him. He knew that feeling and he knew nothing he could give would be enough to make it disappear.

“Give me the chance to be by your side” he offered then “I love you, I love you no matter how big you feel the flaw is”

“No Helmut, you don’t understand, it won’t ever be over, you will get tired of me and my bullshit. This thing, this doesn’t make me feel you, I feel apart from you”

“No, my love, you don’t understand now” he murmured looking at you, his dark eyes looking warm and lightly teary, your pain going through him as you talked, but his voice tone wasn’t allowing any come back.

“I know how it feels. I know how it feels to lose your path. And that flaw you feel, that creeping feeling of failure, of loneliness, of exclusion, it will be over and it will come back, it will bite you hard and then disappear or linger for days and make you feel like there’s no way out. But I will be with you. I will be with you for the days it leaves and the day it comes. I will be with you to remind you every time you can’t even think of yourself in any positive light, how any feeling of worthlessness you might behold are just due to unbalance, but not reality. To shake, draga mea, it is not to fall, it is instead to find stability. To search for it is no crime, the only crime would be only to listen to it long enough to believe it”

He looked at you in a way that words felt like failing you, the determined love surging through him also adorned with trust enveloped you in a sense of determination, a sense of something that was about to come, to happen, which felt already a lot compared to the sense of an ending you had I the last times.

He trusted you.

The sense of acceptance but also responsibility that he created in you. He was there for you, he was ready to share that strangling demon.

“You won’t disappoint me, you can’t, not even if you try”

He seemed to know what you were about to say before you could say it, you let out a little sigh as his smile opened and you just mimicked him.

His warm hand moved on your cheek caressing it, moving away every trace of tears before leaning his forehead against yours “Breathe in”

You obeyed and as you inhaled he placed your hand on his chest so you could feel how it filled up with air, with life.

“Out slow”

You obeyed after holding that air a bit, his warm presence calling for you.

You didn’t know even if you wanted cuddles or not, he could sense that tension in you as he rested a kiss over your temple

“I love you”

He smiled, it was simple, a statement said so clear and simple that could sound like ‘ the sky is blue’. It was obvious and yet precious. He stood up slowly kissing the back of your hand “Just a moment”

You stared at him as he left but he was back in a second welcomed by the blue light on the screen.

“There” he said holding that same white box he held while coming inside. You took it giving him the chance to rest his weapon on the coffee table.

“Go on” he urged you kindly as he noticed your hesitation, so you did, you opened it and smiled finding ten pastel coloured macaroons in it along with a perfectly laid down bracelet. It was simple, white gold.

“Allow me” he said picking it from the box as he slowly wrapped it around your wrist “The woman from the macaroons shop thought it was a weird request to put the bracelet and the sweets in the same box”

“It is a bit peculiar as a request” you admitted and he smirked like you just complimented him.

“There” he said triumphantly, the bracelet fitting you like it was made to be on your wrist, for just your shape and skin colour. A little reminder for this moment, maybe now every time the demon will knock at your door that bracelet will tell bring the memory of Helmut’s words back to you.

“Now, I have the feeling you’d like to try the mint and chocolate one”

He suggested to you pointing to a green macaroon .

You looked at him, a surprised smile and a soft chuckle leaving your lips.

“It is the middle of the night”

“Well? There’s a time for macaroons?” You chuckled as you just couldn’t win against him, against his knowing smile and chocolate eyes, his warm hands, comforting presence and undying love.

You shifted your legs on the other side as he sat comfortably, legs spread and slightly slouched on the couch, you balanced the box of the sweets on his thigh finding the perfect position by his side, head resting on his chest, his warm arm wrapping around you securely as he picked the remote trying to find something to put on instead of the random program you left the tv on.

Your gaze moved up on him as he did some comment about late night programming, admiration and comfort surging in your chest as his eyes diverted from the screen to you one more time. A loving smile welcomed you and everything felt numb now, but not in the same way as before, like if somebody was pouring disinfectant over a wound and now the wound tickles, but it is healing. It is numb, but now you know it will pass.

Helmut was a true Baron to your eyes, a royal, a knight fighting your inner demons with his sword, banishing them away. Today, tomorrow and every time you needed it.

Tagged @cazzyimagines​ @lieutenantn​ @handmaiden-of-mischief​ @thesunflowersutra​ @zemomybeloved​​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @charistory​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @apparrio​ @hb8301​ @whatawildone​ @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

[yanderesleepybutwriting]

Pain Without Love || UshiTen x Reader

_____

Pairing: Ushijima x Reader  |  Tendou x Reader

Summary: Soulmates meant to find each other with a link, bound by pain.  Tendou and Ushijima thought they had it easy when they found out they were each other's soulmates. Until they started finding injuries not caused by either of them. It turned out a piece was missing from their puzzle. You.

Notes: This started off so small and I just couldn’t stop. I have no explanation. Just poly yandere Ushijima and Tendou here for you.

[Part Two] 

_____

When Wakatoshi and Tendou first met, they thought the search for their soulmate was over. It wasn’t hard to figure out. The pain they shared constantly lined up. The stinging on their arms and hands from constant blocking and receiving. Whenever Tendou got hurt, Ushijima felt it, and vice versa. It couldn’t have been easier. Until one day, Tendou skipped out on practice to take a test after school, while Ushijima stayed and worked with the rest of the team in the gym.

Ushijima was mid serve when suddenly he felt a random pain on both his hands and knees, causing him to swing too late and miss the ball completely. While his teammates poked fun and teased him, Ushijima’s thoughts went to his other half. 

He must have fallen. 

There was no more pain after that, so Ushijima assumed he was fine and returned his attention back to the court. It wasn’t until he met up with Tendou after practice, that he brought it up.

“Tendou, you should be more careful. I can’t focus on practicing if you keep getting hurt. It’s distracting.”

Tendou looked up at his partner confused. “What do you mean? I thought that was you.”

And then it clicked. The boy’s eyes shot up to one another, sharing the same shocked, yet knowing expression. They weren’t done. Not by a long shot. There was a piece missing from their otherwise perfect puzzle.

You.

“How could we not realize sooner!? We’re the worst soulmates ever. They’re out there right now, Waka!”

“I’m sure they’re fine. We’ll find them.” Ushijima tried to reason with his frantic partner. This news was definitely a shock to the both of them, and while Tendou grew more agitated, wanting to find you as soon as possible, Ushijima remained calm and collected, going for a more reasonable approach. “We just have to wait. They’re our soulmate after all. They’ll come into our lives sooner or later.”

What they hoped would be sooner, turned out to be later. Much later. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months, and eventually months turned into years, with still no sign of you. The only reassurance they got were random pains brought on throughout the day. A small reminder that you were still out there. That you were still waiting. And it was driving them both crazy.

The older they grew, the more desperate they grew. While Ushijima remained calm, knowing one day they would find you, Tendou grew angrier, unsatisfied until he had you. It wasn’t until a few years after they knew you were out there that they found you when they were least expecting it.

There was a competition for a few of the schools in the area. Boys teams, girls teams, high schools to colleges. If you played volleyball, you were welcome to compete and improve your skills. And while their school wasn’t participating, they thought it was a good idea to watch and scope out the competition.

The boys watched intently at the matches before them, making small comments of improvement as the players went on. Neither was a school that either of them had ever heard of, but they still watched with interest.

“Next up, we have a boys vs girls match-” The announcer began, but Tendou didn’t wait to listen. Already starting to get bored he began leaning over to Ushijima.

“Wanna head out after this match? It’s getting kind of late.”

Ushijima said nothing. Only nodded before turning his attention back onto the court. Both teams showed promise. Giving it their all to throw back every ball hit their way.

“Hey, their wing spiker’s not half bad,” Tendou praised.

“He has power, yes. But no control. Only about 20% of his spikes actually make it within the boundaries.”

As if to prove Ushijima’s point, the spiker hit another ball, this time right into one of the opposing players’ faces. While most of the crowd cried out in shock and worry. Ushijima and Tendou cried out for a completely different reason. They cried out in pain. As soon as the ball made contact with your face, the two boys felt it, as if they had gotten hit as well.

“Ow, ow, ow… fuck! That hurts.” Tendou cried out, palm placed over the side of his face where you got hit. Ushijima was more silent, while still in just as much pain, he was less vocal and just groaned. Wincing and hoping the stinging would die down a bit as the seconds passed. As realization sunk in, both of their heads shot up to make sure you were okay.

They panicked slightly seeing you curled up on the floor, your teammates and coaches gathered around to make sure you were okay. When you finally stood up, they released a breath they didn’t even realize they were holding as relief flooded through their bodies. You were okay, they reassured themselves. After a short huddle with your team, and what looked like a lot of arguing on your end, you walked back onto the court as if nothing had happened, and continued on with your match. 

“They’re not going to check in with the nurse before continuing?” Tendou shouted out, confused by your rash actions. “Why is their coach letting them continue? They need to be checked out. They could have serious injuries.”

“Maybe, they’re okay to continue.”

“You and I both know they’re not okay. Fuck, it still hurts. How can you even focus on a game when you’re in this much pain? It’s obvious they don’t know when to quit, Waka.”

Ushijima was never one to laugh as often as others, but he had to admit it was slightly amusing to him, watching Tendou worry about you so early on. They hadn’t even met you yet, but he was already scolding you for not taking better care of yourself. He’s not going to lie, Ushijima is also concerned, just not as vocal about it as Tendou is. He couldn’t help but worry at the thought of you being hurt, it wasn’t his fault. The three of your soul connections were strong. He was certain that you were the one. They both were, and they couldn’t wait to finally meet you.

As soon as your match ended. Both men made their way to the gym doors to greet you upon your exit. For a second they thought they were too late. Finding no sign of you, or your team. Luckily their height had its advantages as they were easily able to look over everyone until they spotted you stopped at a water fountain further down the hall.

You continued drinking, completely oblivious to the two giants that stood towering behind you. Patiently waiting for you to finish up. When you did finish, taking a deep inhale to catch your breath, and quickly wiping the spare liquid off of your lips, you were more than surprised when you turned around. Being caught completely off guard, by the two intimidating strangers.

Ushijima was the first of them to speak up. Probably picking up on your slight confusion and looking to calm your nerves.

“That was a great game you played. My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He spoke up, extending his arm. You smiled, giving his hand a quick shake and responding with your own name. His hand was much larger in comparison to your own. After introducing himself, he motioned to the redheaded man next to him, “This is-”

“Satori Tendou,” the man cut in, “That was one nasty hit you took out there, shorty,” Tendou smirked, leaning down a bit so you were making direct eye contact. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Oh, it didn’t hurt as bad as it looked,” you laughed, embarrassingly rubbing at the back of your neck. Both men gave each other a quick glance, each one thinking the same thing. Liar.

“Thank you for your concern,” You bowed, “but if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to my team. Our next match will be starting soon.” As you went to dash off in the direction of your court, you were pulled to a halt when Ushijima’s hand wrapped around your arm, holding you firmly in place.

“You shouldn’t jump back into the game so soon. You need time to heal and make sure you don’t have a concussion. Let us walk you to the nurse’s office.”

You were caught off guard by this stranger’s interest in your well being but ignored it. Chopping it up to him just being a nice guy. “I really am okay. Thank you. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

Again with the lies. They knew it still hurt. Fuck, they still felt the pain from where the ball made contact with your face. It slightly diminished from the beginning, but it was definitely still there.

“Listen. If you get checked out, and the nurse gives you the green light, then we promise to let it go. Plus, you won’t do your team any good if you play with a head injury. You’ll only hold them back, so it would be better for everyone if you just play it safe. The faster you get checked out, the faster you’ll get to jump back onto the court. You can trust us. We’ve been in the game for a while, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t gotten a few balls to the head myself,” Tendou joked.

You stood quiet, glancing at the ground as the two men stood patiently awaiting your response. You sure were a stubborn one.

“Okay.” You nodded, allowing the two to lead you in the direction of the nurse’s office.

“Wasn’t really a choice, but we appreciate your cooperation nonetheless.”

The office wasn’t too filled, so you actually got helped faster than you thought you would. Which was great since you were eager to get back on the court.

“Any head pain?” The nurse asked sweetly. To which you shook your head.

You heard the sound of someone clearing their throat and looked over to see Ushijima and Tendou looking over at you sternly from the corner.

“Umm… maybe a little.” You corrected, sheepishly.

The old lady smiled. “Okay, hun. Can you do me a favor and hop up and try to walk in a straight line for me?”

You got up. Following her directions and trying your best to walk as straight as possible, but found yourself losing your balance ever so slightly.

“Alright, go ahead and take a seat for me again, and I’m going to check your pupils real quick.” The second the light met your eyes you felt yourself flinching away, finding the small flashlight to be almost blinding.

“Well, I think that settles it, my dear.” The woman frowned. “It seems you have a slight concussion, but don’t stress too much. Nothing some over the counter pain meds and rest can’t fix. Unfortunately, that does mean no volleyball for at least a few days. Your brain is going to need some time to recover and we can’t have you worsening your injuries.”

You didn’t even look over at the two boys, already knowing a look of ‘I told you so,’ would be clear across their faces. It really sucked that one good hit would take you out of the game. Especially since you were really hoping to get the practice in with competitions starting up again soon. You hung your head low, making your way out of the office, and heading back to the gym.

“Where are you going?” A deep voice questioned from close behind.

“Back to the gym. Even if I can’t participate. I still want to cheer them on.”

“Did you even listen to what the nurse said?” Tendou sighed, clearly frustrated by your lack of ability to follow directions.

“I did, but I’ll be fine! I don’t even feel the pain anymore,” You argued.

“Why do you keep on lying to us? We know it still hurts. We feel it.”

You froze. Looking back and forth between the two men as the weight of their words slowly began sinking in. “...you both...the two of you…”

“Yes, we know this must be a shock Y/N, and your concussion probably isn’t making this any easier for you,” Ushijima began, before Tendou came in. Abruptly cutting him off.

 “But we are your soulmates. So there’s no point in trying to cover up your pain because we know how you feel.”

You definitely weren’t expecting this when you woke up. You knew you would find your soulmate eventually, but you weren’t expecting to have two. Sure it’s not unheard of. In fact, you’ve seen quite a few people with more than one soulmate, but that being said, you never thought that you would be one of them as well. Especially not now. 

You didn’t have time for a relationship. Not when you're gaining such a steady momentum in your volleyball progress. Plus you were never a big believer in soulmates, to begin with. When you were younger, sure. Who didn’t dream of getting swept away by their future love? But as you grew older, reality started coming more into light, and you learned that however bright one's love can glow, it can also go completely dark just as quickly. 

You’ve even seen it happen to one of your friend’s first hand. They were so happy when they found their soulmate, they looked like they were on top of the world. But as time progressed, their soulmate fell in love with someone else, and their once unbreakable love for one another slowly began getting chipped away at with every small fight. Until both of their hearts completely shattered. It hurt you to see them go through that, and you never wanted it to happen to you.

“Y/N?” Ushijima questioned

“I-I’m sorry. Did you say something? I spaced out there for a second.”

“Umm,” Your soulmates shared a look of concern as they glanced over at you, “I think it would be best if we took you home. You don’t look too well.”

Of course, you didn’t look well. Your head was pounding and you just found out that these two men you thought were strangers are actually your soulmates. You were surprised that you were still managing to stand considering how badly your head was spinning with this new information.

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t feel comfortable going home with two strange men, I’ve only just met.”

“Strange men?” Tendou repeated, sounding shocked and slightly offended, by the use of your words, “Were not just some strange men. We’re your soulmates!”

Tendou was starting to get frustrated. While he and Ushijima were in a panic trying to find you, you seemed completely unfazed by the arrival of your soulmates. Were you ever even looking for them?

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I’m not looking to find my soulmates. The main focus in my life right now is volleyball, and school, so I have no interest in, or the time for forming a relationship at the moment. I think it would be best if you just forget you ever met me. I’m sorry, but at least you have each other, right? Isn’t that enough?”

Your words felt like a punch to the gut. How could you brush them aside so casually? Did they really mean so little to you?

...No, this wasn’t you. You weren’t thinking straight after that hit to the head. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know what you need.

“You’re right. We understand.” Ushijima lied, gripping Tendou’s shoulder so he would play along. “However, with your concussion, it would be far safer if you let us take you home,” Ushijima tried to reason.

“I’m telling you, I’m okay!” You tried to explain, turning to head back to your team, but you barely made it a few steps before losing your balance. You didn’t connect with the floor. Ushijima and Tendou not even giving you the chance before they were each at your side. Holding you upright.

“I’m sorry,” Tendou teased, the smirk he wore, obvious in his tone, even without looking at him. “You were saying what exactly?”

“Y/N, we just want to make sure you get home safely. We won’t even go inside if that’s what you’re afraid of. We’ll just walk you to your porch.”

You felt hesitant, but at the same time maybe it was for the best. Your teammates we’re already in the middle of a game, and there was no way you would feel okay with stealing one of them away to take you home. You also wouldn’t feel comfortable taking the train or bus home this late. Especially with your concussion leaving you extra vulnerable. Maybe letting them take you home was the best option.

“Okay.” Your soulmates grinned, and after you shot your teammates a text, saying you’d be going home early, you headed in the direction of the parking lot. Ushijima started the car up, while Tendou opened the back door for you, making sure to close it after you were settled. 

Maybe this was a dream. A weird long dream. Maybe that ball knocked you unconscious and you're really in the hospital right now. That would somehow make a lot more sense.

“Seatbelt.” Ushijima’s deep voice cut in, snapping your attention back to reality. “You need to put on your seatbelt.”

You obeyed, clicking the belt in place, then giving your address to Tendou so he could type it into his phone.

“Try to get some rest. We’ll wake you when we’re close.”

You didn’t know if it was the concussion or the fact that you played three volleyball matches in a row, but you felt exhausted. Already feeling yourself dozing off as you placed your head against the car door.

As you slept soundly in the back seat, Ushijima and Tendou stayed silent in the front seat so as not to wake you. Your words from earlier echoing through their brain like a broken record stuck on a constant loop.

‘I think it would be best if you just forget you ever met me. I’m sorry, but at least you have each other, right? Isn’t that enough?’

Did you even hear the words coming out of your mouth? Of course, it wasn’t enough. How could they go on with their lives as if they had never found you? They already felt such a strong connection to you, that it would be nearly impossible for the two of them to just forget about you completely. Yet, you say it so casually. As if it would be so simple to just walk away. But what you were asking for was just not in the cards. They needed you. And you needed them. You just didn’t know it yet. But that’s okay. They could help you realize just how much you needed them too.

[thesquidkid]

I guess it's been a long way home, trying to face the world alone

Kind of a coda to 3x07 where Alex spends some time in the barn without really knowing what happened in Roswell, studying the Lockhart machine. The machine activates and a man with a sword shows up.

(basically my thoughts on Alex meeting Jones in 1.8k words)

Alex had been at the Gunther farm for 27 hours now, Ramos occasionally bringing him food, both of them sitting by Kyle’s bed, waiting for him to wake up. Ramos would go back and forth between the Deep Sky facility and the farm, but had told Alex to not do the same, to stay with people, have company, in hopes to not lose his mind like Trevor Gunther once had.

The Lockhart machine had been moved to the farm too, per Alex’s request, wanting to stay near Kyle in case he woke up. He barely slept in those 27 hours, closing his eyes only a few times, sitting on the chair, holding one sided conversations with Kyle.

He also barely looked at his phone, putting his whole attention on the machine, on the Caufield files. In hindsight, he probably should’ve been more in touch with his friends in Roswell. That way he maybe could’ve avoided what happened.

He was fiddling with the Lockhart machine, his computer opened on the side looking through the deep web, one had on the top of the machine observing the signals. Suddenly, the machine activated, the soundwave resonating through his entire body, shaking the walls of the barn. Before he could even process what was happening, he found himself pinned against a wall, held by a force that was both familiar yet unknown, facing a man whose face he knew quite well, holding a purple sword that looked very much alien.

“Well, well, well,” said the man with a dark smile that seemed out of place on that face, usually sweet and awkward, taking a few steps forwards in the direction of Alex, getting closer to the machine. “We meet at last, Alex Manes,” he continued, looking at him up and down, examining Alex from all angles, making him feel like an animal in a zoo.

“Jones,” Alex said as a greeting, knowing very well that the Max he knew would never act this way. His mind was racing, thinking of the best plan to follow, trying to predict Jones’ intentions. However, he quickly realised that he didn’t know that much about the man, other than he was a clone of Max (or Max was a clone of him) and that he knew more about the alien’s home planet than his friends did. Which wasn’t much to base a plan off, even with his gut telling him not to trust him. So instead of doing anything, he just stared back at Jones, who just smiled at him.

“Before we do anything, M Manes,” Jones said, his eyes circling between Alex and the machine, taking a few steps towards the latter, so that he could touch it with his hands. Alex opened his eyes in shock - the machine was reacting to Jones, the metal seemingly changing color. “I want to thank you,” he continued after a long exhale as his hand came into contact with the machine, “for bringing me exactly to where I wanted to be.” He pointed his last words by looking back at Alex, smiling in a way that was so un-Max it creeped Alex out.

He swallowed his saliva hard and frowned, how did Jones find him? Jones must’ve felt Alex’s confusion, since he continued, waving his sword around and finally settling it on his shoulder. “Oh Alex,” he said, shaking his head, “I wish I could answer all your questions, but you see I am a bit in a hurry and you are the final link I need to break.”

With that, he took the final steps towards Alex, and swung his sword down. Alex closed his eyes, knowing what was coming, having been close to death before. He waited for the sharp pain to come, already calculating his chance of survival, knowing he couldn’t move and was at Jones’ mercy. But the blow never came. He opened his eyes slowly, hesitantly, to see Jones frozen in motion, his eyebrows frowned, clearly using his force but being blocked by an invisible force. The sword was a few millimetres from Alex’s chest, touching the fabric of his jumper, so close that he could feel the heat coming from it.

“Don’t touch him!” came a shout from the entrance of the barn, making Alex raise his head in its direction, even though he already knew who it was from. Jones hadn’t moved, couldn’t probably, and was thrown away to the left of the barn, his sword flying into Michael’ hand as he ran towards Alex. Alex could feel his feet touching the ground, but didn’t have to balance to steady himself and fell, making Michael lean to him.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I’m gonna-” he rambled as is eyes searched Alex’s body for any sign of injury, the furry clear in his eyes, making Alex chuckle, “I’m fine, Michael,” he interrupted, “Thank you,” he added sincerely, raising Michael’s head with his right hand so they eyes could meet. The furry in Michael melted for a bit, but regained it’s amplitude as Jones laughed on the side.

“Oh isn’t it so cute, saving each other's lives.” He stood up, brushing his trousers with his hands before using his telekinesis to bring the sword back to him. “Anyway, I think some formal introductions are needed, don’t you think, son?”

Alex raised an eyebrow at this. Son? He looked back and forth between Michael and Jones, the latter smiling and the former avoiding him. “Oh my god,” he groaned, his head falling back against the wood panel he was earlier pinned against.

Michael stayed silent, his eyes looking at the floor, his body slightly shaking from what Alex assumed was anger mixed with a bit of fear. Fear of what it meant, fear of what he might become. It was one thing knowing the horrors of your father, another to actually see them. And Alex knew that very well. He stood up, using the wall to balance himself, and stepped in front of Michael, facing Jones. He crossed his arms against his chest and lifted his chin, defying Jones. He knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea, but he also knew very well that all his rational thoughts flew out the window when it came to Michael. And in this moment, he wanted nothing more than to protect him.

“I have an offer for you, Michael,” Jones breathed out, as if tired of this nonsense. What nonsense exactly, Alex didn’t know, but he didn’t want to find out what Jones would do to speed things up. At the mention of his name, Michael looked up, Alex still feeling the anger and fear off of him. “I have a plan, you see. One that involves coming back home,” he smiled at Michael, who unconsciously took a step forward at the mention of home. Jones must’ve noticed it too, as he continued, “I could take you with me, if you wanted. You could see where you are from, the family you have that stayed, the life you so desperately wanted, a life where you are loved, my son.”

As he spoke, Michael took a few steps forward, until he was now the one in front of Alex. Alex looked at him move, his mind racing through all the possibilities. As Michael turned his head towards him, however, all fears about being left alone disappeared. The look Michael gave him was a look he had once described as ‘making him seventeen again’, and he couldn’t agree more with that statement. It was a look of hope and love, but not directed towards Michael’s father or home planet, no. It was directed to the one person who had made him belong on earth. Alex.

The look didn’t last long, though, as Michael turned his head towards Jones. Alex couldn’t see his face, but if he based himself on Jones’ reaction, he could see it satisfied him. His eyes stared at the back of Michael’s skull, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and keep Michael’s look burned into his mind. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bare himself to not watch, wanting more than anything to trust Michael. For Michael to have the same hope that he had, in them.

Michael walked forwards until he was face to face with Jones, feeling each other’s breaths on their faces. He whispered something that Alex couldn’t hear and the reaction was immediate. Jones, who was previously smiling like the evil mastermind that he was, became instantly furious, a fire burning in his eyes. Alex wanted to shout, tell Michael to take cover, but he didn’t have time as it all happened in a matter of seconds.

Jones went flying against the closest wall but not through it - which Alex found strange with the force that was used against him. His sword went to Michael’s right hand, holding it firmly. He could see Michael’s shoulders raise as he inhaled deeply. And then, just as fast as Michael threw Jones and took his sword, he pushed a bit harder and Jones vanished towards the desert.

Michael turned around finally walking slowly towards Alex, letting Alex fully see him. His hair was a mess, and had been since before he walked into the barn, anger still clear on his face. It was different, though, thought Alex as Michael waked until stopping a few feet in front of him, it was like it had diminished a bit. So had the fear, he realised, it was still there, probably would always be there, but it felt more like a background emotion, not at the forefront of Michael’s thoughts.

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like forever, Jones forgotten. “You stayed,” Alex said, echoing Michael’s words from the first morning he woke up in the airstream. Michael smiled at him, taking a deep, shallow breath, “My family is here on earth,” he said weakly, nearly a whisper. He swallowed and continued, his eyes never leaving Alex’s, “You are,” he whispered this time, so quietly that Alex nearly didn’t hear him.

Except he heard the whisper. Loud and clear. Resonating through his body bringing tears to his eyes and smile to his lips. He closed the distance between them and hugged Michael, hard. The hug was awkward, neither properly used to them, especially with each other, but they both clung hard, not wanting to let go.

“I’m not going anywhere, Alex,” whispered Michael in Alex’s ear, “Neither am I, Michael,” answered Alex in the same tone. They leaned out of the hug, their foreheads touching, the outside world a problem for another time. Right now, they needed to reassure each other, hold each other, the rest could be figured out later. They had time.

Eventually they came out of the barn, and were met with Isobel, Liz and Rosa who had put Jones back in a pod. The three women looked at both of them, smiling as they saw how closely they were walking, but distant enough that everyone knew they still had some distance to go, conversations to be had, lost time to be caught. And that would happen, in its own time, now that they were both on earth and planning to stay.

[thran-duils]

The Hard Way (P.2)

Title: The Hard Way (P.2) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark x Fem OC. The reader is Tony’s side piece and tries to run away from him. She’s brought back to him and he thinks of a new way to teach her a lesson that she belongs to him. Words: 2,567 Warnings: PWP, smut, threesome (F/F/M), manipulation, possessive behavior, implied forced pregnancy Author’s Note: I have other fics to be writing but my gremlin brain is like “NOPE”. So, here you go.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile)

Your kiss was deep, her tongue slipping past your lips to swirl around your own. You smiled against it, loving the taste of her soft lips. She was a great kisser. You ran your hand down her abdomen, teasing at the hem of her thong.

Overlooking the crowd at the club less than a half hour ago, you had picked her out. You were immediately drawn to the blue mixed in her dark hair, tattoos, and her curves. One of Tony’s men had gone downstairs to proposition her, and she had looked upstairs, locking eyes with you standing there, leaning against the railing by the window. She liked what she saw and agreed, you saw her nod, before sending a sultry look your way.

When you turned away from the window, you caught Steve watching you intently. You hid your scowl, keeping a neutral face. He wanted another taste, and you were determined to make sure that never happened again. You knew he had told Bucky because Bucky had been tracking you with the same lewdness. Good luck, you thought to yourself annoyed. Tony had been right about his form of punishment; you had been an angel for him ever since, wearing whatever he asked and doing whatever he asked, worshipping at his feet like he craved.

But you were still thinking of an exit. Maybe if you got his eyes to stray…

The woman came upstairs to sit with you on the couch in Tony’s office. He had a huge kink for voyeurism, and you were going to capitalize on it. You had her laid out on the chaise of the sectional couch, ready to get her good and wet for Tony whenever he was able to get off the fucking phone across his office.

The two of you had lost your dresses already, enjoying the other in their underwear. You tugged now at her underwear though, giving her a hint. She took her bottoms off and sprawled her legs. You inhaled deeply at the sight of her bare pussy and your hand came to the apex of her sex. She took her mesh top off leaving her in just her bra and you kissed her again, slowly.

Gaze sliding across the room, you were met with a hungry stare from Tony. He was sitting at his desk, phone up to his ear. He hated being on hold – who put him on hold? – and you were trying to help your daddy pass the time with a good show.

The girl was tight, a wonderful view for him. Not wanting to move too quickly though, your hand left her sex coming up to her mouth, running your fingers across her lips. She sucked your fingers in and you felt a twinge in your stomach. She was sexy as all hell and you wanted to be going down on her or vise versa immediately. But you knew you needed to draw it out in case Tony was on the phone for a while.

Your fingers wet from her mouth, you moved back down to her sex, rubbing slowly. Your mouth met hers again, your fingers slowly sliding past her lips to stroke at her wetness. Why your old man loved watching this while doing business was beyond you. You would not be able to control yourself if you were in his place, but he seemed to get off on it; keeping it together while he spoke business when he had two – or more, sometimes – perfectly good pussys in front of him to bury himself in.

“Bend over the couch,” you whispered in her ear.

She followed your order, bending over the back of the couch on her knees. You locked eyes with Tony and slipped your underwear down your legs slowly before tossing them aside. His eyes tracked your movements with precision, and you saw his breathing uptick. You came up on the chaise behind her, getting on all fours, presenting your bare sex in his direction.

Your tongue flicked at her pussy and she keened, causing you to smile. At least you were having fun with this; she really was a treat. Sucking in gently, you ran your tongue through her folds. She pressed back on your face slightly and your hand came up to catch her hip, keeping her in place.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you heard Tony sound from behind you. His voice was even, like he was not watching two women go to town on each other in front of him.

Pulling away, you slipped your fingers in, toying with her, drawing low moans.

“Quiet, daddy is on the phone,” you reminded her, and she softened her moans.

You looked over your shoulder at him sitting at his desk. His teeth were grinding as he watched you work her up. You bit your bottom lip as she moaned again, spreading your knees apart a little more just to give him a better view.

“I agreed to a bigger cut than that. Don’t fuck with me,” Tony said into the phone, his eyes locked on you. He made a flip over motion with his hand as he spoke – his voice hitching only slightly – and you smiled. He wanted to see her.

You came up and whispered in her ear to switch positions. Lying back, you watched her approach you timidly. Her tongue stuck out, giving you a short lick. You nodded in encouragement and she came back, flattening her tongue and running it top to bottom. Maybe she was not new to this.

“Yeah, more of that,” you whispered, aroused.

Whining and keening, your hand ran over her head, pressing her closer to your sex. Her tongue flicked, dove, and drug. Yeah, she definitely knew what she was doing and you were loving it. And you loved that Tony had a full view of her pussy now, hopefully filling him with lust.

You barely heard him end the call over the blood pumping in your ears over her out of this world head. She jerked and your eyes opened, seeing Tony’s hand brushing her backside.

“Now that that bullshit is over, which one of you is going to suck me off first?” Tony asked crudely, freeing himself from his slacks. “You’ve been teasing me for long enough.”

The two of you moved, coming off the couch to kneel on the ground at his feet. You did the first honors, your tongue running up the bottom of his cock before your lips slipped over his head.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised lowly, as you took him to the back of your throat.

Your tongue swirled around him as you came back up, sucking roughly at his head. He let out a strangled laugh; you knew that got underneath his skin. He did not like you moving too quickly, and he was sensitive. He gripped the back of your head and held you in place as he ran his wet cock up the side of your face slowly. He shifted, pushing it at your lips, watching them slide down his length.

Your hand reached out, grabbing her, pulling her back into his sights. His cock left your face, his hand leaving the back of your head, but his eyes were still boring into you, a dark cloud swimming in that look.

She came up on his other side, both of you running your tongues up the sides of his length in tandem. You moved though at the end of his tip, letting her take him now.

Leaning back against the couch, you watched her work. She was good at licking pussy and sucking dick. You had chosen well, just on sight.

Tony’s eyes slid to you and you felt he just knew. Knew about the hope blossoming in your chest that he would find a new favorite in her the way she was trying to make eye contact with him, trying to suck him dry. There was a glint in his eye. He was not watching her; he was watching you.

“Baby,” he warned, his voice rumbling deep, his chin jerking towards the couch.

You swallowed the disappointment, masking it well enough. You crawled back up onto the couch, leaning back, letting your legs fall to the side so he got a clear view. Your fingers slipped into your sex, playing with yourself, the other hand coming up to knead your breasts. He looked satisfied now, thrusting faster into her mouth.

When he pulled away from her mouth with an audible pop, he told her, “Why don’t you switch places with my lovely girl and let her go down on you.”

Hope diminished realizing he was not going to bury himself in her as you saw her follow his order. Even more so that you realized he was not going to put a condom on. He snapped his finger, pointing at the end of the chaise where his cock was waiting. You slipped off the couch coming to crawl to the chaise. You positioned yourself again on all fours, ass in the air though not for viewing this time; ready to receive him. You bit at your bottom lip as he slid inside your wet cunt and you pressed your mouth to her, trying to keep yourself steady as he fucked you from behind. Her eyes were for him, trying to seduce him. You could not tell if he was watching her or reciprocating the look with the position you were in. All you could do was brace yourself for his thrusts and rub at her clit. Threesomes were hot and you were loving it despite the situation; there was so much stimulation. You gave a rough suck and she gasped, her eyes finally falling on you. You at least got a smile out of her with that one as your thumb came to stroke her pearl.

She came down first, her legs shaking. You tasted her, lapping up. She was sweet. Tony was missing out on something special by ignoring her like he was.

You keened when Tony brushed your g-spot, no doubt seeing you bring her down around your tongue. He was speeding it up now. He knew exactly where your sweet spot was; he had ravaged you too many times that it would be criminal if he did not know. He was going to make sure you enjoyed this and you hated him for it but god, all you wanted was release. Even if it was on his cock.

She had collapsed against the couch and your mouth was free of her sex, your eyes squeezing closed as Tony slammed into you. Your breath was fast, your arms quivering as you tried to keep yourself up, your stomach tightening.

You cried out when you felt it, the waves rushing through you. Tony was waiting for it and he seemed to have been holding out until you clenched around him because he came shortly after, groaning as he filled you up.

Eyes locking with her, you gave a weak smile. She looked pleased with the scene and you could only imagine she was imagining herself in your place. If only you could tell her the grass really was greener on the other side.

Tony pulled out of you and you felt his cum leaking down your thighs.

“You can go,” Tony dismissed her without care.

You turned your head to look at him in shock. He was not looking at you though, he had turned back around, walking towards his mini bar. You turned back to her and saw she looked kicked and you felt sorry for her. And even more so for yourself. Why was he kicking her out so soon? At least offer her a shower like he had to other girls that the two of you had taken to bed before. Was he not pleased with her? Fuck.

She did not move fast enough, and Tony looked over his shoulder as he poured his bourbon. He cocked an eyebrow and asked harshly, “Are you deaf?”

Uncomfortably, she slid past you off the couch, gathering up her clothes. You straightened up, wiping at your inner thighs to try to clean yourself up just as clumsily as she was moving to get her things. Your hand was sticky with his release and all you wanted to do was go take a shower. But you felt that if you left the room that would be a mistake. You instead settled on the edge of the couch, trying not to mess up his upholstery.

His eyes were piercing watching her as she quickly put her clothes back on, trying to rush out. She no doubt did not want to piss off this powerful man by extending her welcome in his office.

When she left, the door closing behind her, his eyes slid to you.

Tony took a long drink, his eyes not leaving you.

After a few moments of silence, Tony smacked his lips.

“Y/N, baby. How did that feel?”

You forced what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Good.”

“’Good’,” he repeated your word. You nodded and he smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “That’s the fifth one you’ve brought up here this month.”

Swallowing sharply, you feigned innocence. “Do… do you not like it?”

“Oh, I like it plenty. I love gorgeous women’s mouths wrapped around my dick. Don’t be stupid, baby,” Tony told you, coming closer. He stood in front of you and held out his glass, gesturing for you to take a drink. You took it from him and did as he requested, looking at him for approval. He smiled, tight lipped again. His hand came up to caress underneath your jawline. “She was exquisite, just like the others. I commend you for that choice.” Suddenly his hand was around your throat and you choked on the second drink you had just taken. He leaned forward, glaring daggers through you as you looked up at him worriedly. “But no one is going to replace you. So, get that fucking pipe dream out of your head. I’m gonna lose my patience sooner rather than later if I keep catching you playing games. You might think you’re smart, but I can guarantee, my little scheming bitch, I am smarter.”

He released your throat, plucking his drink from your hand, bringing it back up to his lips.

“I’ll make sure to send one of the guys to get you some Plan B in the morning. Don’t want your stupid games to end up with stupid prizes.” He stopped and looked back at you, a wicked smirk coming across his face. “Or maybe… I do want that stupid prize.” Your stomach sank and he noticed. “Now that would be the ultimate lesson wouldn’t it? Hmm. You would serve as a lovely trophy wife.” Your mouth formed an o, unable to form words and he chuckled darkly. “I’m gonna have to sit on that one. I’ll revisit it in the morning.

You let out a small, strangled noise as he turned around to go back to his desk.

He waved at you over his shoulder. “Go on and shower, baby. I’ll be out here waiting for you so we can go home and get in a proper bed. Maybe have round two so you have the opportunity to apologize to me for trying to manipulate me.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 15

Bucky

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: Tony throws a party, bucky returns

Warnings: kissing, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It's been nearly six months since I escaped HYDRA a second time, and since then all me and Steve have done is have sex. It's glorious, the freedom (and the pleasure) that comes with being with Steve, and I love him more and more every day. He told me he loved me about a months ago, over a candle-lit dinner and a bunch of roses. It was so sweet, but I am yet to say the words back to him. Well, not that I've been talking much, per say.

My voice was slowly returning, yet I still couldn't string together more than two words and my voice was far from being strong or sounding like it used to.

Bruce had miraculous found some medication that helped, and abashedly admitted that if the sex was helping me make any noise, it should continue.

One of the main issues, is that almost everyone except my dad had been walking on eggshells around me for months. And in new exactly why. It's because they're yet to bring him the soldier.

And if I'm being a hundred percent honest, I'm slightly happy they haven't yet. After all, I don't know if I could bury my feelings towards him and that wouldn't be fair to Steve. And yet in being fair to Steve, I was being cruel to the soldier. After all, to make Steve comfortable, I'm mentally condemning the soldier to continue the horrid and violent lifestyle that comes with HYDRA.

I shake the overcrowding thoughts off, resetting my stance before landing a pinch to the bag.

"Good." Steve praises, stood beside the swinging bag with his arms crossed over his chest. I continue to punch it hard, focusing more on the strength than the technique as I try and will away the flurries thoughts in my mind. "Why don't we try that thing you always get wrong?" Steve asks, almost mockingly. I shoot him a glare. He chuckled, unwrapping my fists for my before bringing me over to the table where our water sat. I took a big pull of the refreshing liquid, barely paying attention as Steve readies the targets.

When I saunter over, he hands me a set of small, but agile, blades before stepping away. I clear my throat, putting myself into the correct stance before giving my boyfriend a nod. Steve nods back, pressing the button before the human-shaped targets begin to move. They're staggered, the last one so far back I can never seem to hit the bullseye. No matter how many times a I try - which is at least once a day - I can never hit it.

The aim is to hit the targets in order of closest to furthest, burying the blade in the mannequins' chests where the red dots it. I take a deep breath, letting my wrist fall loose. I release the blade of my exhale, watching with narrowed eyes as it sinks itself into the black dummy's chest. I let out a breath I was holding, moving onto the next one. Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye. Onto the last target, my vision focused, my mind centred on the farther and the target only.

Inhale. Focus. Exhale. Throw.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, before my hand quickly flys to my mouth, slapping over my lips in shock. It was almost cartoonish, the way Steve's eyes widened like a deer in headlights before the brightest, wolfish grin became his lips.

The knife had wizzed through the air, breezing past the other targets before the tip was piercing smoothly through the little red dot at its heart. Bullseye.

"Holy shit." I repeat, a smile pulling the corners of my mouth up. Steve rushed forward, engulfing my knees a bone-crushing hug before lifting me from the ground and spinning around with me in his arms.

"You spoke!" He rejoiced.

"I can talk! My voice - it's back!" I was starstruck, completely and utterly speechless. I can talk.

"Holy shit indeed." A voice came from behind us.

"Tony." Steve greeted as he let me down, my feet already carrying me across the room until I was enveloped in my dad's arms too.

"We should celebrate. I'm throwing you a party." Tony decided, placing a kiss to my hair. "Tonight. Wear something nice, both of you." He pulled away, looking pointedly at me and Steve before retreating with a smile.

...

I stood before my mirror, hands smoothing over the dark blue fabric laying over my hips. I breathed deeply, head tilting to the side as I studied myself. I wore a silky blue dress that cling to my waist and fell elegantly down from my hips, hitting my ankles and presenting a thigh-high slit on one side. The dress barely had a back, the front showing just enough cleavage to be considered teasing. Around my neck I wore a necklace steve had given me the night he told me he loved me, and I couldn't help but breath out a laugh at the small silver Captain America shield charm hanging from it. I wore some shoes I new I'd regret - trainers. Plain, white canvas shoes that totally ruined the look. But I'd never worn heels before, and I didn't feel like embarrassing myself at my own party.

My hair fell over my shoulders in loose curls, make up simple as I never tended to wear any anyway.

I took a deep breath, opening my room door to be greeted by Steve. He was dashing, clad in a navy blue suit and tie, his hair slightly messy bit in a hot way, and his blue eyes gleaming.

"You look breathtaking, doll." He commented, eyes scanning over my body, clearly lingering on the slit in my dress. I smirked slightly, looping my arm with his outstretched one.

"You look rather handsome yourself." I smiled sweetly, not missing the way steve held back a laugh when he finally noticed my choice of footwear. "Hey!" I laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

"I'm sorry, doll. I just didn't quite expect it." He sniggered, making me scoff and roll my eyes.

"And what did you expect? Three foot tall, strappy heels? When have you even seen me in anything besides trainers or tactical boots, Rogers?" I asked pointedly, shutting Steve up. When we reached the main room when my part was already in full swing, Steve pulled my close to him, coaxing a gasp from my lips.

"And where would you be hiding your knives tonight?" Steve murmured in my ear, nibbling on the lob as his arm kept me firmly pressed against him. It was a little joke we'd formed, as every time I was out in public steve managed to find a knife on me somewhere - in a pocket, down my bra, tucked into the waistband of whatever I was wearing, you name it. To anyone else, we simple looked to be having a normal conversation like any couple would've, but it was much more than that. I assumed in his question Steve was referring to my backless dress that hung so low there's no way I'd even find a way to wear underwear with it. So I went without.

"If tonight goes how I'm planning, you'll have plenty of time to find out for yourself." I whispered against his neck, smirking when his adam's apple bobbed. I sauntered away slowly, making sure my hips swayed as I walked.

The party flew by, people I could hardly remember greeting me and telling me how much they'd missed me as if they'd been some kind of surrogate mother or something to me.

That's where I currently found myself, a fake smile so big it was probably obvious plastered over my face as I nodded along whenever May said something. Peter stood beside her, champagne flute that I just new was filled with appletiser clutched in his hand, smirk hidden behind the rim of the glass at my pained expression.

"So how long have you been home?" May asked, smile so genuine it was embarrassing how fake my own was.

"Only about six months." I smiled back, eyes darting around the room nervously looking for an escape.

"Six months?! You should've met up with Peter sooner! You would've hung out with her, right Peter?" May exclaimed, turning to her nephew who was clearly trying to hold back a snigger as he answered with a quick 'of course'. I sent him a glare that briskly morphed back into a smile the second May was turned my way again.

The smile turned much more real the second I saw my dad climb up onto the table across the room, glass and spoon in his hands. May and Peter spun to look at him along with everyone else in the room when the captivating sound of the metal clanging gracefully against the champagne flue echoed in the room.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone!" Tony called, chatter diminishing in the crowd at his voice. A smile - an actual smile - graced my lips when I realised he was making a speech about me being home. "I'm just here tonight, talking to you all, about my daughter!" Tony began, a small applause following as many pairs of eyes sought for me in the crown.

"You know, the day I found you laying on my doorstep," he stated, taking a swig of his drink, "I thought: how the hell am I gonna raise this stupid ass kid that's been dumped on my like some sort of...animal." I gasped, tears bubbling in my eyes. I thought we were past this- this hate. "This fucking bastard that's come from the filthy streets."

"Tony, that's enough." Nat says from where she stood beside the table, tugging the man's ankle in an attempt to get him down.

"You're drunk." Steve stated from beside him, anger written over his usually perfect features.

"It's all you! It's you, y/n!" He shouted.

"Dad.." I mumbled through my tears, every head in the room locked on my as my bottom lips wobbled aggressively.

"You killed me the day you showed up, and ever day I see you I realise how much I regret taking you in, raising you as my own." He spat with a venom I'd never heard in my dad's voice before.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, but he merely pushed the super soldier's words aside.

"You're not special, y/n! And you never were! Just a Thorne in my side," he explained, climbing down from the table with a slight drunken wobble. "That's why I picked Peter. Smart, agile, unique." He rambled on, making his was through the sea of people that parted instantly for him until he was right in front of me, Peter and May. "So why don't you make this easy, and don't make me chose between you a second time." Tony claimed.

"What? Because you'd chose him?" I sobbed, hand covering my mouth as I bit back the tears.

"Tony, don't!" Steve snapped, now at my side and holding his hands on my hips possessively.

"If you chose him over you're own daughter, Tony...I swear to god somebody better hide you in the time it takes me to find a gun." Nat glared, standing to my side with a wicked look in her eyes.

"Y/n is your daughter." Bruce tried to reason, flinching away when Tony shot him a look that could kill.

"Yeah, I'd chose him." Tony finally settles, silence ensuing after the piercing shatter of a glass broke the room. May stood there, broken glass at her feet and mouth open so wide her jaw must've physically hurt.

"Y/n, I- I am so sorry.." Peter barely whispered from beside May, his own face red from a mixture of threatening tears and embarrassment. I have Tony a dirty look, leaning forward slightly and spitting at the ground in front of him.

"Fuck you." I bit like a viper, spinning harshly on my heel and storming from the room, trying so hard to hide my tears until I was out of sight.

Once I'd reached the stairs, I was kicking my heels off and springing up the steps, two at a time. Reaching the top, I clutched the railing for a second as if to ground myself as a sob ripped through me, my palm covering my mouth again as if it could stop the sounds. I padded quickly across the carpeted floor, fumbling with the handle of my door before pushing it open blindly, stumbling inside.

A sharp gasp was stolen from me when I walked in, more tears clouding my eyes. I hastily swiped them away with my palms, desperate to get a good look of the man before me. His cerulean eyes, long and thick dark hair, his undeniably visible metal arm...

Then his lips met mine. Not desperate or hard like usual, but gentle and slow, as if I would shatter to a thousand pieces if he even held my soft face with too much pressure. "Y/n." he said seriously, but a small smile still glistening in his deep blue eyes. "Soldier." I responded, reflecting his playful seriousness. He pulled me in for another passionate kiss, my whole body relishing in its tenderness. The soldier bought his mouth next to my ear, leaning over me and holding my waist carefully. My thoughts raced one another over and over, but there was always a clear winner: I had him back.

His compassionate whisper floated past my ear, dancing around the loose curls of hair that were tucked messily behind my ear, a whirlwind of emotions tunnelling through me, allowing the butterflies to roam free as he murmured "It's Bucky, by the way."

"We're done."

A frown settled across my face, my head snapping the the side to see Steve stood gobsmacked and clearly hurt in the door. He must've followed me, to make sure I was alright and now he's seen this, and - how long had he been standing there?

"Steve, it's not what it looks like." Bucky tried, now also looking at the Super Soldier.

"So it's not my best friend kissing my girl? Hm?" Steve almost whimpered, as if the words physically hurt him to say.

"Well, yes, but-"

"No. No buts. I don't give a shit what you have to say." Steve interjected me, the harshness of his voice cutting through me like a knife. "Have a nice fucking life." He spat, before turning and retreating out of the door. I started wistfully after him, before glancing back to Bucky and opening my mouth to speak.

"Go. I'll talk to you later." He answered for me, a reassuring glint in his blue-grey eyes. I gave him a small nod and a grateful smile before instantly running after Steve.

"Steve! Steve, wait!" I called after him, but the man's strides were so damn long I couldn't catch up to him even whilst running. "Please, let me explain!" He turned around at that, my body colliding with the wall of muscle that was his torso.

"What's there to explain, y/n?" He said, defeated.

"I- I don't really know. I just don't want to lose you." I murmured, placing my hands of his chest and looking up at the man through my lashes. He wrapped his hands around my wrists before yanking them away from his chest, tears stinging in my eyes. "I love you, Steve." I whispered, for the first time. Steve averted his gaze with a frustrated sigh.

"It's a little too late for that. You can tell Bucky he won't be hearing from me either." Steve spoke, dropping my wrists and turning to leave again. I didn't follow him this time, I didn't call after him, I just sunk to my knees, head in my hands, and cried.

[talkfastromance4]

something--calum hood oneshot

erm, hi! I wrote this in one go last night, I couldn’t get it out of my head and I wanted to share it with you all. I hope you like it🥺

(also shortened my taglist because of inactivity of previous tags)

word count: 2.4k+

warnings: casual drinking, smoking of weed, sexual situations and angst.

****

Calum stares at the blades of the fan turning lazily above him, birds are chirping outside, and he brings his joint to his lips. He takes a sharp inhale keeping his eyes steady on the moving blades, a familiar tune rolling through his head from The Beatles. He’s been awake for a few hours, the sharp ache in his head has turned into a dull throb.

His mouth is dry as sandpaper and he should probably chug a gallon of water and eat something.

There’s movement to his left and he glances over as he exhales the smoke. Through the haze he sees her face but when it clears he realizes it isn’t her. It’s another in the place where she should be. The woman next to him sighs in her sleep, his shirt she’s wearing rises and falls with her breath.

Calum sighs and rolls out of bed. He sticks the joint in an ashtray (a gift from her) and pulls on a hoodie. His feet pad on the wooden floor as he sees the cluster of remnants from the night before. He and Roy held a little soiree that turned into a bigger party than they anticipated. He should clean it up but he might just hire a cleaning crew, he knows he’d be the only one doing the cleaning anyway.

There were cups everywhere, empty bottles turned over on the stairs. Some of his closest friends were still asleep on the couches in the living room. He hears Duke’s collar jangle outside, and Calum is transported to the night before in the exact spot where Duke is sniffing by the pool. Calum stood there as well.

He’s chatting with Ryan and Andy when people around them chorus her name. He looks up just as she steps onto the patio, her hand holding onto another man’s. They aren’t in a relationship, her and the guy, just like he’s never in relationships with the women he sees. Relationships have done them both dirty in the past, but he always feels a certain pull to her. Something he can’t shake.

Her eyes meet his over the shoulder of Crystal, something flickers in those pretty eyes and then it’s gone. Calum watches her for a moment longer, the way she smiles and how her laugh meets his ears. Throughout the party they were so close to each other yet so far apart.

People were in between them, but Calum was very aware of her presence, he could sense her. She could sense him, too.

It wasn’t until he was heading upstairs to use the bathroom did he see her escape into his room. Creasing his eyebrows together he follows her. The sounds of the party diminish greatly the further he gets away from it. The closer he gets to her his breath hitches, his heart accelerates.

When he turns the corner his bathroom door opens and she’s there. And he’s there. Both of them standing a mere six feet apart but he can see the beauty mark at the corner of her right eye. A mark he’s always wanted to kiss.

“Cal,” she says in surprise and he loves how his name sounds from her lips. “Sorry, the line to the main bathroom was too long and I know you said I could use it so I—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s…it’s great,” she nods. “Are you liking it?”

“It got better when I saw you walk in,” he confesses. The small amount of alcohol he’s consumed is making him feel bold. He takes a step forward. “Who’s the guy you brought?”

“Max. He works with me.”

“Mixing business with pleasure, yeah?” Calum takes another step forward, but she remains in the doorway of his bathroom.

“Hardly,” she scoffs then narrows her eyes at him. “You’re being very…forward tonight.”

“Can’t help it,” he takes another step and shakes his head. “You make me feel very…unwound.”

“I’m sorry?”

Calum chuckles and takes two more steps forward. He’s so close to her now he can smell her perfume. It makes his head dizzy.

“You really don’t know what you do to me, do you?”

She searches around his room as if she’d find the answer to his question painted on his walls then sighs. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Do you know what you do to me?”

That caught him off guard. He does something to her?

“I didn’t—”

“Really, Calum? Are you that daft? You drive me crazy. Crazy in a way where I need to…need to do something about it later. The way you look at me isn’t how friends look at each other.”

“How do I look at you?”

“The way I look at you I’d imagine,” she sighs.

“Wait…what do you mean you need to do something?” he takes another step. He’s so close now he can see the slight shimmer in her lip gloss.

“Really, Calum?” she nearly whines and hides her face before rubbing her temples. Her eyes meet his. “You really want me to tell you how I go home and think about you in my bed? How I…how I touch myself wishing it were you?”

He’s stunned and his mind is racing a mile a minute. She thinks about him, too? He’s tried to stop his own fantasies forming as he lays in bed thinking of her. Thinking of the sounds she’d make and where her sweet spots are. Calum cups her cheek in his hand tilting her face upward. He cocks his head until her eyes are looking into his.

“Now who’s being forward?”

She lets out a grunt of frustration. “Seriously?! I’m sorry for using your bathroom, I’ll head back downstairs—why are you laughing?”

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he coos moving even closer to her. He’s so close now he can see the color of her eyeshadow, the glittering shine on her cheeks from her highlighter. “I think about you, too.”

She swallows harshly. “You do?”

He brings his other hand to her other cheek; his hold forces her lips to purse together tempting him even more. Lips he’s always wanted to taste. Lips he’s wanted to nibble on. He takes a leap, flying on this boldness in his bloodstream and leans forward to kiss her.

Her lips are soft and taste of strawberries. He hums tracing her lower lip with his tongue and she opens up to him willingly. Their tongues meet and she gasps softly. He continues to kiss her a bit longer then pulls away, nudging his nose against hers.

“I think about you in a way that would make you blush, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his thumbs stroke the apples of her cheeks.

“Like how?” her voice shakes but her hands are steady as she grabs onto his belt buckle and pulls him forward. Her fingers dip below the waistband of his jeans and he groans at the near contact to a part of him that twitches at her touch.

“You really want to know?” he pecks her lips softly.

“Now you’re suddenly shy?” she teases, and he laughs before kissing her again.

He pauses and pulls back to look at her, laughs again and kisses her once more before pushing her into the bathroom. He kicks the door shut, dropping his hands from her face so he can lift her onto the counter. She pulls him towards her by his belt again, her legs opening to accommodate him between her thighs. Thighs that are more on display because her dress has hiked up.

Calum leans on the countertop, his hands bracing onto the edge as he stares at her.

“You want to know all the dirty thoughts I have of you?” he kisses her twice.

“Mhm…” she hums running her finger on his skin above his belt. He shivers at the touch, silently begging her to move her finger lower. “Talk dirty to me.”

“I think of how I want to make you scream my name because my tongue and lips won’t let up on your pussy,” he starts and it’s her turn to shiver at his words. Calum smirks and presses himself against her. “How I want your thighs wrapped around my head, your fingers in my hair as I take you over the edge again and again. You’re dripping on my mouth and after your eighth orgasm I’ll slide my aching, throbbing, swollen cock inside you.”

She whimpers and Calum can’t help but kiss her again. She arches her body against his, her soft parts touching the hard parts of him and his head spins.

“What do you think of?” he presses against her, lips tumbling over hers.

“You’re pinning my wrists above my head as you fuck me. Your lips all over me while your fingers take me over the edge,” she grinds herself against him and whines. “Please, Cal.”

She removes her hand from his stomach and grabs his wrist, she drags it onto her thigh. His fingers splay on her soft thigh rubbing soft circles on her flesh. Each arch widens and his finger gets closer to her heat, a heat he can already feel.

“You want me to touch you?” he asks knocking his forehead against hers. She nods. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Touch me, Cal, please,” she says breathlessly.

He twists his wrist moving his hand under her dress and touches her. His fingers rub against a wet patch and she moans as he drags his nail up her clothed slit. On her second moan he slips his tongue inside her mouth, his finger presses harder. They’re making out when he pushes aside the fabric and feels her arousal coat his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he groans stroking her up and down. Her body jerks at the tease and his words. He moves his lips to her jaw as he inserts a finger slowly. She’s warm and slick and his cock twitches when he thinks of being inside her completely.

She hums when he starts pumping in and out of her slowly. Her body reacts to his motions, her breath shortening in his ear as he sucks on her neck. Soon, he picks up the pace and she starts to rock with his movements.

“Ride my fingers, baby,” he encourages, and she moves faster when he slips in another finger. “Just like that…”

He feels her clench around him, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, her lips connecting to his neck. He thrusts in her faster, his arm straining but she’s so close and he’d be damned if he didn’t finish her off. His bicep is tightening when she is, her breath hot on his skin then she bites down hard but Calum loves it.

He continues to pump in and out of her as she comes around him. It’s so much sweeter than his fantasy. When her body relaxes, Calum drags her face from his neck so he can kiss her, his fingers still moving lazily in and out of her. She whimpers when he pulls them out completely.

He brings his hand between them, keeping his eyes on hers he takes them in his mouth to suck her juices off him. She wraps her hand around his and pulls one of his fingers into her own mouth. Their eyes are locked as they both suck her orgasm off his fingers. The whole ordeal is so hot he can’t stand it, so he removes his fingers from their mouths and gives her a sloppy kiss.

Calum rubs at his neck; his tension and anger have taken root there because he wishes he was back in his bathroom with her in front of him. With her legs wrapped around him and her moans in his ear. Something broke their bubble of ecstasy and he had to take care of some problem downstairs that Mitchy drunkenly shouted through the door.

But he promised her they’d continue this after the party.

The universe decided to place him on the unlucky side of the coin though. When he returned to the party downstairs people were freaking out because a couple of people hopped the gate and were somewhere on his property. The cops were already called, and he had to make sure whoever they were didn’t wander somewhere they really shouldn’t be. Like upstairs where she was.

For the rest of the evening, he had to speak with the cops on his front step, his irritation at the party crashers intensifying because they took him away from her. When the cops finally left with the trespassers in the back of their car, Calum headed inside on a mission to find her.

He was stopped for shots and a pass of a joint and a pipe. His head started to swim even deeper but at the forefront was still her. He finally found her by the fireplace, that Max guy talking to her with wild arm motions. Calum made a very lopsided beeline towards her then was stopped by Missy.

Missy decided to stop him by shoving her tongue down his throat and alarms went off in his head. She didn’t taste like strawberries. Her perfume was too strong it burned his nose. When he finally managed to push her away from him, Y/N’s eyes were full of hurt and shame as she watched the whole thing.

“No, Y/N—”

She pulled Max to her, lips locked on his and Calum felt like he got hit by a truck.

What happened next was a blur. Faces and voices and bodies morphed together. Calum’s head hurt. Missy felt sick so he took her upstairs where she retched in the toilet then passed out on his tile. Calum offered her his clothes to sleep in and she curled up in his bed.

He went downstairs to find Y/N, to explain that Missy was just drunk, and it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean what happened between them in his bathroom, it didn’t come close. But he discovered she left with Max and his heart fell into his stomach.

And now here he is, surveying the aftermath of what could have been the best night of his life with her. But something always got in the way and this time, she saw it with her own eyes.

The melody from upstairs is back in his head and he finds the words that suddenly make sense in this stupid situation of bad timing.

“Something in the way she moves…. something in the way she woos me,” he sings quietly in the silent house. He’s missing a few words, but these are what’s floating in his head. “Something in the way she knows…and all I have to do is think of her—”

“Calum?”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash  @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh  @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth  @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt  @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @sanrioluke @mayve-hems  @haikucal @thatscooibaby  @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor  @dead-and-golden @mymindwide  @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @superbloomed-c @littledrummeraussie

[julyarchives]

Don’t You Hear Me Howling? || (M) || 08

Finding out you are a female Alpha sparkled some rivalry inside your pack, and resulted in you losing your best friend and your life turning upsidedown, so leaving for college was the fresh start you needed. Years later, you are about to finish your degree and suddenly this past comes back to mess with your head.

→ Pairing: Yeo One x Female Reader | Kino x Female Reader

→ Genre: A/B/O AU; Omegaverse; College AU.

→ Words:  3.8K

→ Contains: mentions of alcohol; wolf shifting; some Alpha-Alpha tension; Y/N making out with a special guest 👀; smut; Jealousy

→ A/n: Thus was supposed to be posted yesterday, but we sort of got lost in the calendar, so here it is now (oops?) we hope it isn't too lame and you guys like it! Also, as mentioned in the warning, there is a special appearance heheh.

→ Index: 01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • 06 • 07 • 08

As much fun and easygoing as things were for you, you felt glad for the holidays break. You got out of the cab and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of the reservation forest that boarded the neighborhood.

Every year your pack has their own ritual to celebrate your ancestors during the holiday, and you were actually looking forward to participating this year, after missing it since you started college, for many personal reasons - and one of them included a very difficult talk with your parents. Also, so much has happened this semester that being in the small city allowed you to breathe some fresh air and organize your thoughts.

Your parent’s received you immediately as you went through the front door, with big hugs and wide smiles.

“It’s so good to have you home” your mom patted your head, her small frame making her reach high to do so.

“Let me take your stuff to your room” Your dad grabbed your luggage and turned around to take them upstairs

“Oh, it’s fine, I can take them” You tried to stop him, but he pretended he didn’t listen. But you knew he loved feeling like the man of the house. You redirected yourself to your mom “I think I could use a shower and a nap, the trip was too long.”

“Of course, honey, I’ll call you for lunch.”

You crossed paths with your dad in the doorway, who offered a small smile. He wasn’t very fond of small talk, so that was usual of him. You closed the door behind you and sat on the edge of the twin bed centered on the room. You looked around and took in the scent of your old home, which immediately brought back so many memories.

Before you left for college, you and Changgu were on bad terms, so there weren't pictures of you together anymore, but you could still see the tape marks on where they used to be glued on your old vanity mirror. You also remembered perfectly which drawer you have tucked them away, the one that you were currently staring at, contemplating taking a look at them. In the end, you just shook the idea off of you and followed what you’ve told your mom.

The day was rather quiet and peaceful, the big event being held in the night, and the talk you were dreading could wait after the celebrations. Your parents had visited you in college a couple of times, and you have visited them too, but it was rare, never for the holidays, so they prepared a special family lunch and you couldn’t deny that you had a good time being around them.

All the pack had gathered in a big clearing at night to celebrate, and the bonfire already burned high. You could feel all the attention shifting to you as you arrived, your dominant scent overpowering everyone else's, and you held yourself high.

The day you left the city you promised yourself to never get close to this pack again. They’ve ignored you and diminished you as an Alpha, and you knew this place wasn’t for you. They were all surprised to see you back, they could barely hide it, but every time you made eye contact with someone, they quickly turned away avoiding you.

You didn’t hide, not ashamed of you or your choices, but it was rather uncomfortable, the tension almost palpable in the air. You quickly grabbed your phone and texted Wooseok.

“ Please tell me you headed back town for the holidays”

To which he quickly replied

“I actually came to a friend’s house, I’m not there, sorry :(“

You sighed. The cold weather wasn’t so bad, the cool breeze was blowing softly and the fire kept the place warm if you got close enough. Your parents stopped along the way to say hi to their friends, but you followed closer to the bonfire, where your eyes quickly met the current Alpha.

For a moment you had forgotten he was Changgu’s father, but seeing him immediately brought the information back to you. They looked alike so much, the same eyes full of expression and sharp jawline. He was staring at you, not so happily, and nodded when you looked at him. Your expression could be sour, you weren’t sure how much you were holding back, but you respectfully nodded back.

He sustained the stare a couple more seconds, so did you, but soon he was calling everyone’s attention. Everyone gathered close and his wife stood by his side. That’s when you saw Changgu, getting close to his father with a stoic expression on his face.

You shoved your hands in the pocket of your jacket and offered a half-smile when he noticed you. At first, he seemed confused but returned the gesture

“Brothers and sisters” The senior Alpha called “tonight we celebrate the ones who have left us. Our ancestors passed us their wisdom,” He spoke firmly and slowly, looking around at everyone. “Their strength lives in us, and so we honor them with our nature.”

There was a long speech about union and tradition that to you it sounded too much like hypocrisy since the traditions would include you, supposedly the next Alpha of the pack, to be standing there as a successor. You did not bother, because you expected nothing else.

The leader of the pack was the first to turn. His skin shredded, giving space for the long dark brown and silver fur to grow as a howl echoed loudly, bringing out everyone’s instinct, but especially your Alpha ones, and soon you had shifted.

This was one of the reasons you wanted to come. Being in university has you taking suppressants daily, so letting yourself run free was like getting rid of tight clothes that restricted your movements. You howled loudly to follow the collective chant, an ode to the departed ones, a hymn for the pack, the freedom of instinct.

The pack’s Alpha ran in the front, leading everyone with his big frame. Changgu followed him, and it’s been so many years since you’ve seen his wolf form that you felt surprised. He was bulky and big, his posture very imponent, and you stopped to admire it for a second.

The run was freeing. The wind hiding your wolf nozzle, pushing your fur back, your paws hitting the dirt. You needed that, and just letting yourself act on your instincts was the best thing you could grant yourself at that moment.

Reaching the highest point of the forest, the collective howling restarted. You stopped right next to Changgu, whose wolf eyes watched you intently, and in wordless communication, you howled together, allowing the instinct to speak for yourselves.

…

After the traditional pack run, a feast was hosted by the Alpha, usually in his house, which was big enough to fit everyone comfortably in the large backyard.

Everyone happily celebrated what was the closest to a wolf Christmas, with an abundance of food for everyone. You sat with your parents at the assigned table, attending the event quietly, holding yourself back just enough to not drag any more attention than you were already getting. Mr. Yeo, the Alpha, customarily greeted every individual, and when he approached you and your family, you stood up and bowed respectfully.

"Thank you for having us" your father shook his hands

"It's my pleasure," Mr. Yeo politely answered, "I didn't expect your daughter to come."

He talked about you like you weren't there, and you were pretty sure that was purposefully meant to challenge your position.

"I came to pay respects to the tradition, sir" you opened a forced smile. A damn good one. "Can't let that behind me."

His eyes snapped in your direction with intensity, letting the impassive expression on his face falter for a second.

"Of course" he smoldered, masking it with a smile probably just as fake as yours.

To him, you represented a threat to his family's legacy, so it wasn't a big secret that he isn't very fond of you.

"I hope you enjoy the party," he said to you and your parents altogether, but redirected the last sentence at you "if there's anything you need, just tell me and I can provide."

"Of course, thank you so much" your mom answered gladly. She followed her leader with passion and always tried to be in good graces with him, so she's always been strict in the sense of community tradition and formalities.

"No need to thank me, ma'am" he smirked "that's just an Alpha job"

The provocation was like a punch in the gut. Ever since you were revealed an Alpha, Mr. Yeo tried to do everything in his power to deprive you of your given rights inside the pack. He raised Changgu to take his place and hated your guts for ruining his plans. He was a man of power and didn't appreciate when someone threatened that position.

"Y/N…" your mom called you with a warning tone to her voice.

You didn't notice how you were instinctively growling, low enough for only people close to the table to hear, but your Alpha emotion was strong enough to cause some heads to turn in your direction.

Mr. Yeo, of course, smiled in victory from a distance, happy to make you look bad in front of the community.

"You really don't care that he does everything to undermine me, do you?" You said to both of your parents.

"Honey, he's the Alpha." Your mom said calmly "everything he does is to protect you. Is the best for everyone."

"You do know I'm an Alpha too, right?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

They both stayed quiet. You looked at your dad, hoping he would say something in your favor, but he just complies with your mom's orderly silence.

"Yeah, thanks," you said, standing up and leaving.

Growing up you used to love being with your pack these kinds of celebrations were your favorite time of the year.  But now everything changed and suddenly you felt so misplaced that you felt like you didn't know anyone anymore. You knew all your neighbors, and their kids who went to school with you, but now they were almost complete strangers to you.

You grabbed a bottle of beer and looked around for the only familiar face you could find there. Changgu was not running Alpha errands with his dad, so when you found him he was surrounded by a group of girls, apparently younger than you, swooning at every charming smile of his, and you could just see how much he adored all the attention. You chuckled at his fuckboy attitude and the poor deluded girls who had a crush on him, hoping to get the son of the Alpha in love with them.

"Y/n?" You heard your name being called, taking you always from your thoughts.

The boy who called you was tall and slim, a long-ish hair half up in a ponytail and he looked happy to see you.

"Hey…?" You said with uncertainty, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar, but you just couldn't remember his name

"Hyunjin" he chuckled "I don't know if you remember me, but we went to school together."

"Right, Hyunjin, of course, I remember!" It finally clicked to you. Hyunjin was an omega, a few years younger than you but you two used to share some clubs in high school, but he didn't look so… hot. "You look so different, sorry it took me a while to recognize you."

"Yeah," he laughed shyly, scratching the back of his head. "I haven't seen you since you left for college. You look great"

His flirtatious half-smirk was very obvious and you actually thought he looked quite cute.

"You look great yourself" you bit your bottom lip, looking him up and down "But yeah, I kind of focused on graduating rather than coming here."

"I'm glad you're here now." He fully smirked this time "wanna go somewhere quieter? I'd love to catch up with you"

You felt hesitant at first, and you looked back to find Changgu again, and this time one of the girls was grabbing his arm, running his hand all over it. You wanted company for the party, and since Changgu was busy flirting, why shouldn't you do the same?

"Of course, let's do it." You took one last sip of your beer and linked arms with him.

He guided you around the house to the front porch, where you rested your elbows and watched the quiet street. Hyunjin had his back against it, looking at you.

You two actually did some catching up, and even exchanged numbers. You found out Hyunjin also went away for college, but he always came back for the holidays and breaks, and stuff like that, but nothing you were really paying attention to.

"You know, I have to confess something." He said, straightening his posture "I sort of had a crush on you, back in the days"

"Really?" You laughed softly, amused at the sudden confession. "Why didn't you say something, then?"

"Ah," he clicked his tongue. "Everyone knew you only had eyes for Changgu."

You rolled your eyes involuntarily.

"C'mon, everyone knew that, and Changgu didn't let anyone get close to you"

You were actually surprised to hear that since this wasn't something he ever told you but explained why you weren't popular with boys in high school.

"Well," you stood up and stopped directly in front of him "I don't see Changgu anywhere now, do you?"

Hyunjin grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, and your hands held the collar of his jacket.

"I guess I should shoot my shot, then" he licked his lips, alternating looks between your eyes and lips.

"What are you waiting for, big boy?" You challenged him.

He reached forward, kissing you rather urgently. His plumpy lips felt soft against yours, and he was a really good kisser. He pulled you against him, and you intertwined your fingers on the loose hair behind his neck. He gasped when you tugged on it, and you grinned into the kiss for getting a good reaction out of him. His hands sneaked down your waist, boldly squeezing your ass as the kiss got more intense, and he earned a shy hum of satisfaction out of you.

The noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted you two, making both of your heads snap in its direction, but neither of you really letting go of each other.

"Y/N" Changgu called you rather sternly, with a matching frown on his face. "I need you to help me deal with some stuff"

You sighed.

"Looks like some things didn't change, did they?" Hyunjin whispered just for you to hear,

"I'm not done with you yet." You whispered back, nibbling his earlobe.

"Now." Changgu interrupted again.

You pecked Hyunjin's lips before detangling from him, only then noticing that his hands were still in your ass.

"Text me, ok?" You said to him loudly as you followed Changgu inside the house.

He walked large steps and didn't bother looking behind to see if you were following.

"You couldn't have picked a worse moment to need me to deal with some bullshit, could you?" You whined, but he still paid no attention to you "all night, I was there doing absolutely nothing, and when I finally started to have some fun you decided I was important enough to attend whatever this is."

You babbled but still, he didn't respond, and you just kept following him around corridors in the big house, finally entering a dark room

"What is so important anyway that you had to call me so urgently-"

Changgu interrupted you when he pushed you against the door, making it slam loudly, his lips crashing against yours with a certain vigor.

At first, your eyes widened in surprise, and you pushed him back to look at him, but his hold on you didn't loosen up.

"What the fuck, Changgu?"

"Just," he stopped to think, breath already heavy in anticipation "shut up"

He resumed kissing you, and this time you rolled with it because, you couldn't deny, kissing him was something you ever saw yourself getting tired of. He pressed his whole body against yours, grinding on you making you gasp every time his thigh in between your legs rubbed against your clothed core.

"Fuck, Changgu" you said when he attacked your neck.

You pull the hair on his nape, making him look at you

"Is that what this is about?" You asked, forcing yourself to think straight "you can't bear the thought of me fucking someone else?"

Rather than answering, Changgu just growled, making you laugh ironically

"So you can flirt with all those pretty girls out there," you raised your eyebrows, "but I can not hook up with people? As if, Changgu"

You weren't as mad as much as you were enjoying taunting him for being so desperate to have you his.

"Just shut up, for fucks sake" he rolled his eyes and picked you, only to throw you on the bed behind him.

You finally recognized Changgu's old bedroom, with the light that came from the window above it. It was different, with no more posters taped to the wall or the action figures he liked to collect. It was a simple room with minimal decoration now.

"Gonna break another bed, wolfie?" You teased "I don't think daddy would be very happy to know you're fooling around with the Alpha"

He growled loudly, hooking his hands around your legs and pulling you closer to him, your bottom hitting his knees, which were pressed against the mattress. He leaned down and viciously kissed you, nibbling and ducking your bottom lip.

"You know, you're way hotter when your mouth is shut" he panted in between kisses.

Having turned into wolves mere hours ago had all your instincts right under the skin. The dominance, the connection between you and your Beta, the lust. Everything was on edge and you guessed that's why Changgu was so desperate.

He unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down with your underwear in one swift motion while you took off your shirt, revealing your bare breasts underneath it. Changgu licked his lips and chuckled cockly when he ran a finger down your slit, showing you how wet you already were.

He took his shirt off, but didn't bother with his pants, and leaned back down to lick a long stripe of your juices, brushing softly on your clit on the way.

You moaned weakly.

"I'll show you why you're better here than with the what's-his-name out there." He said in a low husky voice.

He kept his hand around your legs and captured your sensitive nub in between his lips, making you buck your hips and grab his hair in response.

His back muscles were on display for you and it was hot to watch it contract and relax as he moved in between your legs.

"You're so eager for me, aren't you?" You teased him again and he hummed, sending vibrations down your core. "Do your worst, let me see if you're worth my time"

He leaned back up and you hated the loss of contact, but he quickly spun you around and pulled your hips up exposing your ass to him, and a harsh slap sting on your skin, accompanied by his deep growling that he didn't seem to have control over, and you yelped at the burning pain.

You heard him fumbling with his belt and soon he was entering you with no warning, making you bury your head in the pillow to muffle a loud moan. He didn't give you any time to adjust as he pounded into you fast, showing his desperation. He angled his hips just right to hit the perfect spot inside you to make you scream.

For a second you were afraid someone would hear you, but the backyard was not that close to the bedroom, and you tried to suppress your noises the best you could. Changgu seemed to be out of control with the way he hissed and moaned, your name falling out of his lips here and there.

A sloppy rushed fuck was not on your plans tonight but, fuck, it felt good. Changgu was getting sloppier by the minute and you just knew he wouldn't last long. You reached in between your legs and circled around your glistening clit, realizing you were in no better state than he was.

The closer you felt to your high, the more you squeezed your walls around Changgu's member, and the louder he moaned.

"Are you trying to get us caught?" You managed to say "such a loud wolf."

He didn't respond, too focused on fucking you, but he didn't get quieter.

You fastened your movements and had again your head buried in the pillow, moaning freely as you reached your orgasm, your whole body vibrating in pleasure. Changgu started thrusting faster, gripping your hips harder and pulling you against him to meet his thrust, and soon enough you felt his seed dripping down your thighs, strangled noises caught in his throat as he rode his high.

You relaxed your body when he pulled out of you, laying down with your stomach against the mattress, crossing your arms under your head for support. Changgu threw himself by your side, facing the ceiling and panting, looking fucked out already.

"Jealous wolf, aren't we?" You tapped his chest, provoking him

"Shut up" he chuckled

"How many girls did you fuck in this bedroom anyway? You were quite popular with the ladies back in high school. I bet they all died to be in Yeo Changgu's bedroom" you mocked a dreamy-girly voice.

"Do you really want to talk about who I fucked in high school?" He chuckled.

"Well, someone had to get laid, right? Since I couldn't because someone told boys to stay away from me." You smirked at his embarrassed expression

"Hyunjin is such a snitch, he was never good enough for you" he rolled his eyes and looked away.

"And who is? You?" You scoffed

"I didn't hear you complaining when you were screaming against the pillow just now"

You slapped his chest and he laughed loudly

"Jerk" you mumbled.

"Guess you can go back to your pretty boy out there", he said in a teasing voice, "if you're still interested, that is".

"So cocky, aren't you?", he laughed at your mocking expression.

"Maybe. But we still have festivities to attend".

"Unfortunately".

You got dressed in comfortable silence and after a few minutes, you were good to go. Changgu stood by the door and smiled at you before opening it and waving for you to walk by him. As you walked out, a satisfied smile took over your face and you only hoped people wouldn't notice the smell of sex on you too much. You and Changgu parted ways and for a second you let the whole tension of your body relax during the holiday. Just for a while.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Better Now

A Bla/ck Tap/es podcast sickfic.

I have so many wonderful prompts in my inbox but the only thing I  wanted to write was this wildly self-indulgent and overly long fic that's jam-packed with all my favorite tropes. I blame @matilda3948 for her recent amazing Dr. Strand sickfics for inspiration and @sanquintina for getting me into the podcast in the first place

This is technically Bl/ack Ta/pes fanfic, but you don't need to know anything about the series other than Dr. Strand is a persnickety, serious, stoic, skeptic with a very deep voice and troubled past. 

Set after the end of the series as it stands currently and written in 1st person from the perspective of Strand's unnamed female partner. Could be Alex if you want, could be someone else with whom Strand finally found happiness and contentment. I kept that part generic on purpose.

Richard Strand is many things, but clumsy isn't one of them. So naturally I had to go investigate when early one morning I was startled by the sound of a tea mug shattering on the floor followed by a hastily bitten-off swear word.

In the kitchen I found my husband, the world renowned Dr. Strand, kneeling on the floor mopping up spilled tea. He glanced up with a sniffle as he heard me approach.

"Had it too close to the edge. At least it missed my pants. I think I got all the ceramic bits, but be careful."

His voice was even deeper than usual, low and gravelly from the cold he'd been developing over the past few days. That, paired with his heavy, reddened eyes and generally haggard appearance, gave me concern.

"You look like you hardly slept. How are you feeling?"

"I tossed and turned a bit last night. Couldn't get comfortable."

"Couldn't breathe I think would be more accurate. You were snoring and breathing through your mouth all night."

He sat back on his heels and frowned. "Sorry if I kept you up."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you," I added as he winced when he stood, massaging the space between his eyebrows.

He shot me another irritated glance. "I'm fine. I just have a bit of a cold." I couldn't help but notice the weary slump of his shoulders, however. Even his suit looked less crisp than usual. 

I summoned all my wifely tact and tried to make my voice persuasive: "Maybe you should stay home. You don't look like you'll be much use to anyone today."

He made an annoyed sound. "That's very unnecessary. I'm not staying home for a cold."

I looked pointedly out the window where a chilly November rain was pouring down steadily. "You really want to go out into that when you have a perfectly valid excuse not to?"

He too glanced out the window. After a moment he shook his head and cleared his throat, meeting my eyes again. "I'll be fine. It's just a little rain."

He headed toward the door, massaging his forehead once more.

"Don't you want your tea?"

"Oh, right." He whirled around quickly, grabbed the thermos, and headed toward the door again with a wet sniffle. I could only roll my eyes and sigh as the door closed behind him.

Most workdays I left after him and returned before him, and this Thursday was no exception. The rain was still pouring down when I arrived home from work that evening. I decided dinner was going to be vegetable stew and biscuits, not only for his cold, but also because I wanted some rainy November comfort food. Everything was nearly ready when I heard him coming up the steps. He opened the door, bringing with him a chilly gust, and I turned to greet him, but instead my mouth dropped open a bit at the sight of him. 

His hair and clothes were completely soaked with rain, to the point of dripping puddles onto the floor as I watched, and he was visibly shivering, something I'd never seen him do before. Inexplicably, he was also shaking the loose drops off of his soaked umbrella, his expression drawn and miserable. I was noticing how diminished he seemed when suddenly his breath hitched violently:

"HehZIHH'shiew! HrrUUHHZchoo! HehhGIHH'nkkchoo!"

I rushed to his side, relieving him of his umbrella and briefcase and pulling his sodden coat off of him as he slumped down onto the nearby stool. Beneath the coat, his suit was nearly just as wet and cold.

"Oh, Richard, bless you! You're soaked to the skin. Ugh, and your hands are freezing. How did you manage to get so drenched?"

"A w-woman and her ch-children were w-waiting for the b-bus without c-coats. I held my umbrella f-for them until it c-came," he said, his teeth chattering and his lips blue with cold. 

I toweled off his hair and clothes as best as I could before helping him undress. Any other day he would have brushed me off, saying he was perfectly capable of doing that himself. The fact that he allowed me to assist him spoke volumes to how poorly he felt. 

I was behind him, trying to peel off his sodden linen shirt when he lurched forward for another volley of sneezes:

"HrrUUSCHH! HnnxXT! HHGGTchh!"

"Bless you again, poor love. You've made your cold worse going out in this," I gently chastised.

"I'm f-fine," he sniffled, still barely able to speak around his shivering. Yet he leaned back against me wearily as I removed his undershirt and replaced it with a blanket, and I thought I heard the softest hint of a groan.

I used my fingers to comb his disheveled hair, but frowned when I felt his forehead. "You're running a fever. You weren't feverish this morning."

He merely shrugged, wordlessly asking me to continue massaging his scalp, which I did. Slowly his shivers subsided, but he was clearly exhausted, and sniffled wetly every few moments. 

"You look like you could use a hot drink and a warm bed," I said eventually.

"I'd start with a hot shower," came the mumbled reply.

"Hmm… what about a hot bath? I was thinking of taking one myself tonight, and I'm willing to share. No reason to waste the hot water. Dinner will keep for a bit longer."

He turned slightly, giving me a curious look. It wasn't that we had never bathed together before, but it was usually under very different circumstances. However, I happened to know my husband craved physical touch when he wasn't feeling well, though he would never ask for it. I was simply making life easier on both of us by preemptively offering it. 

"I suppose that might be nice," he finally said. "But I'm very tired…."

I kissed his cheek. "No strings attached. Bath only. Then dinner and sleep. No funny business, I promise."

He relaxed slightly. "That's fine then."

"Good. Let me go run the water." I kissed his hair once more, then headed to the bathroom. He joined me there with a cup of tea after a few minutes. While the oversized tub finished filling, he leaned in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and looking distant and hazy, not to mention sick.

I shimmied off my clothes and slid into the water, gesturing for him to join me. He sluggishly obeyed, hampered in finishing his own undressing by his dripping nose. He set his mug of tea and a handkerchief on the little table beside the tub, then slid into the water in front of me.

His sigh of ecstasy as the hot water surrounded him was exactly what I hoped to hear, and he leaned back against me readily with a satisfied groan.

"Better?" I murmured in his ear.

"Much," came the rumbling reply, followed of course by a sniffle. 

I pressed my lips into his hair again and again. He hardly moved as the heat soaked into him. I let my nails trail all over his skin and gave him a gentle massage, trying to help him relax, a feat he was rarely able to accomplish on his own

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" I murmured after a while.

He gave the barest nod in reply. Wordlessly I did just that, something else he would never consider allowing in any other circumstance.

I kept the soap far from his face, but the fragrance still had its way with him. I had nearly all the suds rinsed out when he suddenly jerked forward and leaned over the edge of the tub.

GihhIIISSHH'UH! Hhigg'CHUH! HihYEHSH'ooo!" He directed the spray as far away from me as he could, grabbing for the handkerchief to catch as much of the mess as possible. He mopped his face with a growl as he slid back into the water, but the spell was broken. He fidgeted against me, sniffling in irritation again and again as I finished rinsing his hair. 

I suppressed a disappointed sigh. "You might feel better if you went and laid down now that you're warmed up. Get yourself a bowl of soup while I finish up here."

He grunted his assent, lifting himself out of the water and quickly toweling off as he began to shiver again right away. He donned his robe, took his tea, and went to get his supper.

The evening came to a quick close after that. Richard ate a small portion of soup, drank two mugs of tea, and refused any medication, but did little else. He wouldn't be described as loquacious on his best day, but he spoke even less than usual. The only noise he made was the occasional soft cough or explosive trio of sneezes and his perpetual sniffles as he attempted his usual evening reading. His eyes never lost their weary, hazy look though, and he was constantly shaking his head or wiping a knuckle under his nose, so I wondered how much he was actually absorbing.

When I suggested we go to bed, he didn't argue though, which was very unlike him. He fell into bed wearily, and it seemed he was asleep even before his head hit the pillow. I silently wished to myself as I drifted to sleep that he would either be recovered in the morning, or else have the sense to stay home if he was worse.

~~~~~~~~~~

Richard's alarm went off at the usual hour the next morning, and he shut it off right away. Normally he was out of bed in moments, but today he lingered, pulling the blankets closer around himself with a little groan.

I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but he continued to shift restlessly. After a moment, I heard him take a wheezy inhale and then break into a coughing fit, wet and hoarse. I turned to look at him again. He was on his back now, with an arm flung over his eyes.

"Aww, love," I murmured. "You ok?"

"I'm not feeling quite like myself," came the mumbled reply.

I reached out to stroke his cheek, letting my hand rest on his neck where I could feel his hugely swollen lymph nodes. He was well and truly sick now, and he needed to stay home from work. However, I couldn't be the one to suggest that, or else he would turn me down immediately and insist he was fine, as he had the day before. It needed to be his idea. I went with a different approach.

I nestled close to his side, kissing his shoulder softly. I could tell he was still feverish even through his clothes. "Busy day today?" I murmured.

He grunted wearily. I couldn't tell if it was affirmative or negative.

"I packed a big bowl of soup for your lunch. I hope it's enough to keep you full through the whole day. And don't forget, I'll meet you at your coworker's reception tonight. Was there anything I needed to bring to that?"

He slowly uncovered his face. "I was… actually considering staying home from work. It shouldn't be busy today, I can afford to miss. And… I'm really not feeling well at all. I'll make our excuses to John about his reception. 

I did a silent victory dance in my head. "Oh, are you sure? I thought you had some important meetings."

"Nothing that can't be rescheduled." He cracked a red eye open, glancing at me suspiciously. "Why? Do you want me to go in?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, kissing him again. "I want you to do what you think is best. If you're not feeling well, you ought to stay home so you don't risk getting other people sick though."

"I suppose." He coughed hoarsely again, rubbing his chest with a grimace. "Yes, I'll stay home today. Let me call Carol and John."

He slowly stood and made his unsteady way to his phone, sniffling and coughing the whole way. The two phone conversations were very brief, for he hardly had to try to make a case for his illness, congested and hoarse as he clearly was. After he finished the calls, he shuffled back to bed immediately, heaping the blankets back over himself with a shuddering cough. I rubbed his back as he got settled.

"Can I get you anything, hon? Water, medicine?"

He shook his head. "Going to try to sleep this off," he mumbled, sleep already (or still?) heavy in his voice.

I knew medicine would almost certainly help his endeavors at sleeping. At minimum it would improve the quality of his sleep. However, I also knew he was stubborn about such things, so I didn't press the issue yet. "Alright." I kissed his hot cheek gently. "Then I'll leave you be for now. Let me know if you need anything. Sleep well."

I made the bed around him, straightening my side and tucking him in, then quietly left. The sound of his deep snores followed me out. So much for me sleeping in today.

He emerged again later that morning. I didn't notice him at first when he did, though. I had my headphones in and was dancing around while dusting. Turning around, I almost bumped into him, scaring us both. I yanked my headphones off right away, taking in his disheveled, sickly, blanket-wrapped appearance.

"You're awake! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out."

"Clearly," he rasped with the tiniest ghost of a smile. "You stayed home too?"

"It's my normal Friday off."

"Right, right," he sniffled. He then shuffled to the couch, collapsing onto it with a yawn. I went to sit beside him, unable to keep the concern from my face. I felt his forehead again, noting how he wearily leaned into the touch. I was forced to jump back though as he erupted into a volley of thick, chesty coughs. 

I sighed, surveying him with worry. "You're running quite the fever, love. And the cold has obviously settled into your chest now too."

He nodded limply with another sniffle.

"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, I'm giving you medicine and you're going to take it."

He managed to fix me with a condescending look. "Medication for a cold is essentially pointless. It just treats the symptoms."

"You think making yourself more comfortable is pointless?"

He opened his mouth to answer, or so I thought, but instead he lurched forward into a trio of wet, spraying sneezes:

"Heh'YEISSHH'oo! YEEIISH'uuh! Gih'HIH-shoo! --ugh…" The forceful snapping motion of his head when he sneezed looked incredibly painful, so much so that he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead with a groan in the aftermath.

"Bless you, hon!" I waited a beat as he composed himself. "So… what was it again you were saying about the futility of treating the symptoms?" I asked, admittedly snidely.

He only grunted softly. I couldn't keep the smug look from my face when he met my eyes once more. However, seeing how thoroughly miserable he was reawakened my sympathy immediately. I reached out to caress his hair and cheek yet again.

"How about I make you some tea, yeah? And maybe a bowl of soup?"

"Please," he mumbled.

"Coming right up."

Another round of his thick, exhausting coughs followed me into the kitchen, and I couldn't help but wince in sympathy, even though he couldn't see me.

In a matter of minutes I had his meal ready. When I brought it back out to him, I placed the soup on the table and dropped a handful of pills and a capful of medication beside the bowl with a meaningful look. His only reply was a small frown. I resumed my seat beside him and was about to hand him the steaming mug when an idea occurred to me.

"Is your throat hurting badly?"

He nodded heavily with a little scowl, as if he hated being reminded of it.

"Here, this may help a bit." I raised the mug to the level of his neck, pressing it against his visibly enlarged lymph node.

His eyes widened and he half-jumped back from the initial sensation. 

"Trust me for a sec," I said gently, placing it against the swelling once more.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but allowed it. After a moment though he visibly loosened. Making a sound between a whimper and a groan, he leaned harder against the heat. 

"Better?"

"Mhmmmm," he sighed.

After another moment I switched to the other side of his neck and repeated the process. He angled himself here and there to get the most heat coverage over the tender areas. Finally I slid the mug into his hands, kissing his forehead.

"Thank you," he breathed. "That was… relieving."

"You're very welcome. Now, can I do anything else for you at the moment?" 

"I'm fine. You don't need to fuss."

"I may not have to, but I want to, first because you're my husband and second because I know you're not 'fine.' But if you're going to insist you are, I'm going to go fold some laundry. Holler if you need anything. Or cough loudly if that's easier."

That earned me a Dr. Strand signature, the 'amused huff.' "I will. Thank you again."

"No thanks necessary." He received another kiss to the temple before I stood and headed to the laundry room with a last pointed look at the medicine. It occurred to me as I walked away that I was likely giving him an overabundance of kisses considering how contagious he clearly was, but he was just so darn pitiful.

Twenty minutes later, I returned to check on him, bringing a glass of water as well. The tea mug and soup bowl sat empty on the coffee table, surrounded by a few scattered tissues. The medicine was untouched. The doctor was huddled to one side of the couch with another tissue held loosely in his hand and one pajama-clad leg tucked under him, staring listlessly at the wall. However, at the sound of my footsteps he stirred with a sickly sniffle, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. I smiled in greeting, and though he didn't return the smile, he did brighten a bit upon seeing me.

"What were you contemplating so deeply just now? You looked very lost in thought," I asked, handing him the water, then tidying up his little mess on the coffee table, leaving the pills.

He huffed a humorless laugh, looking self-conscious as he fiddled with the glass. "I was actually imagining how extensive the trial and error process must have been to determine how best to brew tea versus brewing coffee versus, for example, brewing beer. Roasting the ingredients versus drying versus fresh versus ground and boiling versus steeping versus fermenting. The amount of time that must have been necessary to perfect something so simple is rather astounding," he rasped, with many sniffles and throat-clearings thrown in.

I raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Aimless ramblings about random topics were not the norm for my painfully disciplined husband. "It is astounding I guess. I'd never thought about that before. Anyway, how are you feeling after eating?" 

"I'm fine," he said, finally setting down the untouched water, though the nasty cough that immediately followed his statement contradicted him.

This time I audibly sighed. "You do realize that you saying you're fine all the time is very counterproductive to helping me assess your needs? You don't have to be fine, love."

He gave me an odd look. "Conceptually, I know that. But you have to remember, for a long time I *did* have to be 'fine.' I didn't have the option to be otherwise. You, all of this… still feels like a new development or a dream at times. Old habits die hard, I suppose."

I sat on the arm of the couch beside him. He wordlessly leaned in toward me so I could lightly run my fingernails over his scalp. He softly groaned in pleasure.

"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you that I'm not going anywhere and I'm here for you, because you already know that. So I suppose I'll just have to keep showing you." 

I went to press a kiss to his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face and changed my mind when I saw he was about to sneeze.

"Gihh'chuuh! Hehh'choof! Ghnxt'choo!"

The sneezes were brisk and wet and left him breathless. He blew his nose with a wince before he spoke. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I missed most of it," he said, sounding stuffy and a little peeved.

I chuckled and complied, going for the kiss this time. He had no reply, but instead leaned against me wearily as I massaged his neck, yawning deeply. 

"You should rest again, love. Take a nap if you can. It's either that or watch TV, which you'll never do. I'm not sure you should attempt much else."

He wrinkled his nose. "I hate being so unproductive. I don't want to sleep the day away."

"Sleeping when you're sick isn't being unproductive, it's being wise."

"HehhGIH'choo! HEHHH-choo! Hihhh'YESSHH'uuhh!"

I was quite sure he didn't hear most of my statement, since he sneezed right in the middle of it. With a pitiful sound he tended to his nose yet again as I blessed him earnestly. Eventually his watery, heavy lidded eyes met mine. I couldn't help but notice yet again how flushed and disheveled he was and how utterly pathetic he looked, quite the opposite of his usual cool, collected self. 

"Guh. Sorry. What was that?" he asked with a pathetic sniffle, sounding very annoyed now.

"Aww, your nose. You really are sick, huh? Poor guy," I said, continuing to stroke his hair. 

He looked slightly offended. "You were having doubts about that?" 

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "It's just something you say, dear. 

"I'm aware of the colloquialism," he grumped. "But I find it a very odd one. And it's never been directed at me before."

"There's a first time for everything, then."

I was rubbing his back now. He yawned again, grimacing after, I assumed due to the sore throat. I also noticed he was starting to shiver.

"Ok, now seriously, tell me what I need to do to convince you to nap."

"I'm not sure," he said with a chesty cough, nestling deeper into the couch.

"Hmm. I accept that challenge." 

"And what challenge is that?"

"You won't tell me what I can do to help you, and perhaps you don't even know yourself, so I have to figure that out for both of us."

"I don't think there's anything I need though."

"You need to sleep."

He rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff, but I could tell he knew I was right.

I stood and went to put some smooth jazz on the record player in the room. Sitting down again, this time on the couch on the other side of him, I gestured to my lap.

"Come lie down."

"Wait-- lie down… right there?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"Because you love hair scratches and neck rubs, so I'm making it easier to give them to you. Also you're apparently freezing and need to share some body heat."

He frowned, suppressing his shivers as best he could. Still, I knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long, tired and miserable as he was. Sure enough, after a moment he slowly levered himself down with a resigned sigh. 

I quickly threw a blanket over him, and then began the hair scratches. He made a tiny, appreciative sound. 

"Better?"

"Mm," he grunted.

"Good. But you're sweating, love," I murmured.

"I'm not sure how since I'm freezing," he mumbled with a cough.

"Your fever is higher. I can feel it just by touching you."

He groaned, snuggling deeper against me.

I massaged his neck for a while longer, trying to ease the tension from his muscles. He continued to be restless though, and apparently unable to regulate his body temperature. One moment he would be shaking with chills pulling the blanket closer, and then the next kicking it away from his legs with a moan of discomfort. 

The final straw for me was when he was overcome with yet another hacking coughing fit, curling in on himself miserably, trying to muffle it into his arm, the other hand clutching his chest.

Before he settled again, I leaned forward to grab the untouched pile of medication and glass of water from the coffee table. When he was again lying against me, I wordlessly held it out to him. He of course made a sound of irritation.

"Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep, and you can't sleep in the state you're in, at least not well. This will help your headache, fever, sore throat, everything so you can rest. I can tell you're exhausted."

After a final moment of consideration, he held out a reluctant hand. I handed him the items and he swallowed them without comment.

Neither of us spoke again for a long time, and didn't move from our places. I soothingly stroked his hair or rubbed his back, putting myself in a trance almost as much as him. 

I could see the medication talking effect. His restlessness slowly eased along with his coughing. It seemed I could even feel his body temperature decreasing.

"Hnnkkt'CHUH! Hehgg'CHUHH! EHHG'choo!"

Just as I thought he was asleep, his body twitched with a trio of sneezes, the quality of which could only be described as lazy--slow, thick, and dulled. They hardly seemed to stir him from his stupor.

"Bless you. Are you ok?"

" 'm fine," he croaked tiredly. We were both quiet for a while, then he spoke up again. "You know, one of the reasons I keep saying I'm fine is because I can't begin to describe what an improvement it is to be with you while being sick compared to being sick in bed alone. The difference is as drastic as night and day--better doesn't begin to describe it. Asking for anything more than what I already have just by your being here feels selfish."

Richard would never express such sentiments under normal circumstances, and hearing it said so plainly overwhelmed me with emotion. Yet I knew he wouldn't want me to reply in kind. He would prefer to state his piece and let it be. And indeed, I saw his eyes drooping heavier by the second, so I kept my thoughts to myself for now, but leaned over to plant a series of kisses all over his hot face. 

He hardly moved and didn't respond even when I finally stopped, but I couldn't help but notice the tiny smile playing around his lips as he drifted off to sleep.

[mae-gi-writes]

Last Minute Love | Eric (The Boyz)

Requested by anon! It’s only on the eve of Eric’s departure that you realize you have feelings for him.

genre: friends to lovers au, fluff

-----

It was somewhat of a miracle that you'd managed to catch Eric just before his flight to Los Angeles. With his busy schedule going back and forth between places, he had accustomed himself to life on the road, to a home that moved each and every single time depending on which country he was touring.

And seeing him happy had never made you happier.

When he'd called you up a few weeks ago to announce - in his flurry of excitement - that he was finally visiting home, you couldn't help the squeal that fell out of your mouth, excitement bubbling up from your throat as your mind races to the countless amount of time you'e have to spend with him. A few special days that you'd hold on to in his absence.

The weeks had flown. It was impossible to discern where the time had gone, but every day since Eric's arrival had been complete bliss. Small trips to the bubble tea shop by the corner, chatting too loudly in the movie theatre, pillow fights amidst video game competitions... you had appreciated them all and yet, it didn't feel enough. It never felt enough where Eric was concerned.

Needless to say, the eve of his departure had done nothing to mend the slow tear of stitches holding your heart together. As you sat together with your group of friends on the beach where you had built a small campfire, your shoulders gently brushing Eric's every time he moved, you were greatly aware of the incessant tingling up and down your arms and his scent -- a mixture of freshly washed sheets tinged with a sweeter indescribable smell -- that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. It was one that you'd miss dearly once he was gone and almost out of instinct, you couldn't help yourself from snuggling a little closer.

He probably felt your inner turmoil, for he laid a hand behind your back, leaning into you so that his chest pressed against your shoulder blade. You pinked, hoping that the darkness wouldn't give way to the rush of heat spreading across your cheeks, before you felt the softest caress down your backside.

In truth, Eric had been a little flirtier than usual this time. His teasing had been a little more playful, his grin a little more charming, the look in his eyes filled with a tenderness that wasn't there before. Though you were confused at his intentions, you had allowed yourself to ease into the banter, flirting back and forth until it was clear that there was something between you two.

"Do you know when's your next break?" One of your friends asked as he tipped back his beer.

Eric shook his head, "can't say. I'll be completely swamped with promotions and prepping our comeback when I return."

"Don't forget us once you make a name for yourself," another friend joked.

"I might if you keep pestering me to hook you up with celebrities," Eric shoots back with a grin.

"Seriously Ryan, you gotta play within your own league..."

You couldn't, for the life of you, focus as the conversation moved away to another topic, suddenly overwhelmed by a clog of emotion in your throat. Not knowing when you'll see Eric next was a thought that made something in your heart squeeze in pain.

"Y/N?" Eric's soft alto brought you out of your bubble, fluttering your eyes up to meet his, "you okay?"

"Fine," you muttered and looked down so that you could blink away the tears rapidly accumulating at the corner of your eyes.

His hand, warm and big and soothing, rubbed at your back comfortingly.

Clamping your teeth down onto your lower lip, you only nestled a little closer to him in response. He shifted then, turning his head until his lips brushed against your temple as goosebumps ran along your arms at his touch. It wasn't a kiss per se, just a tentative brush or skin against skin. You shivered though, not used to Eric being so affectionate.

Maybe it was something to do with the night itself, you somehow felt a little more comfortable to show him that you were going to miss him deeply.

"I'm going to miss you," your words were softer than a whisper itself. You were surprised that they reached Eric's ears, who curled his arm around your waist to hug you close.

"I'm never too far," he mumbled against your temple, before leaning away slightly to catch your gaze, "you know that, right?"

"It's not the same."

"I know," and then he tugged you closer still, not caring about the curious eyes following his every move, the diminishing distance between your bodies that would probably entice a few rounds of mischievous comments the day after.

The walk back to your house had been different. It had felt different, even when you were usually so comfortable in his presence. His hand would keep brushing against yours as you chatted quietly into the night, until his fingers finally laced themselves with yours before squeezing softly, a tender reminder that he was still here, right now at this very moment.

Your head tilted up towards his, a silent question swimming in your dark pupils that he answered with a question of his own as he held your gaze with an intensity that rendered you weak at the knees.

"What time's your flight tomorrow?" You asked once you had reached your front door.

Eric's eyes were darker than night, the moon dancing across the planes of his face as he murmured, "seven in the evening."

"I'll be there."

"You better," he chuckled while playing with your fingers. Silence enveloped you soon after, broken only by the hum of cicadas and the gentle howl of a cooling breeze.

"So, I guess that's my cue to go to bed," you tried joking, except that your chuckles came out empty, almost like someone had just gutted you in the stomach.

"Y/N, I--" Eric's hand suddenly latched onto your wrist, pulling you into him and gazing at you with soft orbs, "I'm glad we got to hang out a lot."

"Me too," a smile graces your face, "me too, Eric."

"I wish I could've stayed longer."

"Then stay," you stepped closer to him.

Eric laughed, breaths intermingling as he dipped his head to gaze at you, "I wish."

Though you weren't sure who moved first, no sooner were you thinking of ways to make this last longer that his arms had already woven around your middle, caging you in a hug that you didn't hesitate to reciprocate for fear that he might just disappear at any given moment. His nose brushed along your cheek and as you tilted your head upwards, your breath stilled at the closeness between your bodies, time stopping on its axis as you spared a glance at his lips before quickly flitting your eyes back up to his face.

You wondered briefly what it would feel like, to kiss him.

But as far as friendship went, your cowardliness had made you retract from his hold with a promise that you'd see him off tomorrow at the edge of your mouth. Regret sat in the pit of your stomach as scenarios vividly haunted your mind that night, but you did your best to bat them away as you knew that it wouldn't bring you anything to dwell on what hadn’t happened.

"Got everything?" You asked once you'd arrived at the security gates, eyes scanning his belongings one last time so as to ignore the quench of tension in your abdomen.

"Think so," Eric threw you a small smile and your insides tingled. A knot formed in your stomach. 

Your other friends were already taking turns bidding him a goodbye, hugs and laughter being shared as they made Eric promise to come back as soon as he possibly could. And then it was your turn, the moment that you'd claimed to be mentally prepared for no matter what happened. 

As Eric turned to you, your friends backed away to give you some privacy after sending you mischievous smirks, and it reassured you that they understood the inner turmoil bubbling in your stomach even when you were bound to get an earful from them as soon as you'd leave the airport.

"Well, I guess this is it," Eric's words were enough to bring tears to the corner of your eyes. You looked away, fisting your hands on your shirt to grasp for some kind of emotional restraint. 

He probably saw it, for his face softened. He reached for your arm, "come here."

And you did. You allowed yourself to get a whiff of him and allowed yourself to feel his warmth, his heartbeat against yours one last time while tears gently fell down your cheeks and stained his shirt wet.

"Keep in touch, okay?" Your words came out choked, lips trembling when you tilted your face up to look at him while trying to trace his features into memory.

He nodded and leaned down to press the softest of kisses on your cheek. Your heart stuttered, your body reacting on its own as you returned the kiss to his cheek but only reaching his jaw.

Eric's inhale was poignant. A few beats of silence passed as your gazes locked. His hand unconsciously reached up to cup your cheek, thumb tracing over your lower lip.

Swallowing hard, you were about to break away before it got too intimate when he dipped his head so that his mouth was a hair's distance away from yours.

Time stopped. Warm chocolate met dark maroon. You bit onto your lower lip, heard Eric swallow.

Oh fuck it, your mind screamed. 

Your body closed the distance between your lips to kiss him fully on the mouth.

It was short, a mere peck, and when you pulled away Eric didn't waste time to press a hand to your back to tug you in once more. His mouth pressed another kiss and almost instantly you turned as pliant as a leaf in his arms, lips moving against his as though it was the most natural thing to do with someone you had never even considered more than a friend.

Only when you parted did he allow himself to murmur out a soft, "wow."

A soft trickle of laughter erupted from your chest despite the serious situation, "what?"

He answered by cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for another kiss that caused butterflies to flutter through your stomach and tickle your heart with ecstasy.

"Wait for me?" He whispered against your mouth. His thumb traced patterns along your cheek. Yours bunched onto his shirt, desperate for this moment to last forever.

You dipped your head into a nod, "I will," you bit your lip, "if you'll come back to me."

"I'll always come back for you," Eric murmured before giving you one last final hug as another kiss imprinted on your forehead, a final goodbye with the promise that you would see more of him in the coming future.

You knew he'd come back. And one day, it would be for good.

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 2.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings for this chapter: Angsty Babies Fight

TagList- @ayyyocee​​, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner​​, @yeonkiminnie​​​, @stories1907​​​, @ppersonna​​​, @brilee64​​​, @gooplibrary​​​, @vivpurple7​​, @xjoonchildx​​, @brightwingr5​​, @yaniposts22​​, @rjsmochii​​, @taeslittletiger​​, @pjmcth​​, @bts-chub​​, @kpoppingthempills​

Sequel to The Bird Cage

You stand on the balcony overlooking the casino as the night begins to drag on. There were men and women as far as the eye could see. “Madam.” Your head turns to the voice before smiling at Kirsoon.

He hands you a glass of champagne and you thank him quietly before turning your attention back to the game floor. Your eyes have been on a man, sitting at the blackjack table for quite some time. He was in a Tom Ford suit, classically styled as he sips on his brandy. He hasn’t moved from the table in two hours and the chips in front of him indicate just how good at blackjack he is. Good at blackjack is not a sentence to be said. Unless, you’re counting. Your eyes narrow at him as he flicks at the corners of the cards leisurely. He has on sunglasses so you can’t tell how shifty his eyes are. You can’t ask him to take them off, it’s not against the casino policy to wear shades. But, something is off.

Then your eyes catch it. When he flicks the corner, the man opposite him does so as well. “Kirsoon.” You call to the man behind you and he steps forward as you lean back calmly. “I have counters at blackjack four.” 

He stands up straighter before nodding his head and taking off. “Counters at black four.” He mumbles into his wrist before he descends the stairs. Your ankles cross in front of you before leaning your chin on your hand.

“Counting?” You hear from behind you, before arms wrap around your waist. You hum as lips drift over the back of your neck. “I missed you, baby.”

You smirk before turning your head to your husband. You kiss his plush lips gently before hearing commotion downstairs. You turn your attention back to the floor as Kirsoon grabs the chips and places them in a velvet bag. The Tom Ford clad man gets hauled up before being dragged towards the staircase and you click your teeth as innocent patrons jump nervously. “Idiots.” You mumble as your husband’s grip on you tightens. 

His hands run over your sides before kissing down your exposed shoulder. “Come home, I miss you.” 

You don’t want to go home, though. To go home would mean to have sex with him. Which would lead to another heartbreak when you don’t get pregnant for him. “Soon.” You mumble before kissing his cheek and squeezing out of his grip. 

“Kitten?” He whispers confused, you turn your head to him before running your fingers through his hair. 

“I have to go take care of this. See you at home?” You ask him gently, but your feet are already walking towards your grandiose office. You hear his hands slap his thighs but you don’t dare turn around to face him. You have guilt just like he does.

You hold out your two fingers before a cigarette is placed within them. Kirsoon lights your cigarette and you smile at the man now tied to the chair in front of you.

“Hi. Good evening.” You whisper to him as he looks around the office. He seems nervous. Looks nervous more like, as you watch sweat begin to bead on his forehead. “Take off your sunglasses.” You tell him before ashing your cigarette into the glass tray on your desk. 

You look at his bound hands before clicking your teeth. “Nevermind, Kirsoon will do it for you.” 

The tall, stocky man rounds the desk before taking them off of his face and looking at the lenses. He snorts before handing you the glasses and you hold them daintily between your fingers. The lenses were a shade of blue, something that could be seen in the bright lighting of your office compared to the dim lighting downstairs. “You have ink on your fingers?” You ask quietly to the man in the chair in front of you.

He stays silent before showing you his hand. It was free of any ink and you rolled your eyes before putting the glasses to your face. Through the blue lenses you can see faint light blue streaks on his fingers and you hum to him. You break the glasses before Kirsoon holds out his hand beside you. They get discarded into his palm before shrugging your shoulders. You watch as the beads of sweat begin to run down his temples.

“Very nervous for someone who was so confident at my tables not too long ago.” He grunts gently and you lean back in your chair before inhaling some of your cigarette. “You had a partner downstairs. I saw.”

His eyes shift to his lap and you tilt your head before crossing your legs. With an exhale you burn out the cigarette in the glass ashtray and fold your hands in your lap. “You must be very smart to count cards.”

“It’s not hard.” He murmurs and you nod to him as he turns his head to look back at two security as they stand at the double doors. “Where’d you learn to count?”

His eyes flicker back to yours and before clearing his throat. “Princeton. In America.” 

“Very good.” You say in English before leaning forward. “I’ll be speaking with you in English then since you can handle it.” 

His eyes squeeze shut before his form turns smaller under your piercing gaze. “How much money can you win? If you have all night to do so?” 

He bites nervously at the skin on his lip before opening his mouth, “If I can do it and do it without getting caught I can turn over about one hundred thousand a night.”

You whistle, the sharp noise making him shiver before you nod to him. “And can you do this without getting caught?”

He sighs gently before straining his arms against the confines of the rope he is in. “You’re the only person who’s caught me so far. I’m usually pretty good at it.” 

You tilt your head before looking him over, if he can do it without getting caught it would be very profitable to the Lions. “Interesting.” You whisper before leaning back. 

“What’s your name?” 

“People call me Shownu.” You click your teeth before sipping your champagne. 

“Well, Shownu. You’ll be working for me from now on.” He cringes before sitting up straighter. “Look, ma’am. I don’t- don’t do this all the time. Just y’know, my brothers need some extra cash so-”

“So you’ll steal from me? That’s what this is, you’ll just take money from my casino?” He bows his head in defeat and you stand up drawing his attention.

“You will work for me and repay everything you have tried to steal, and then some. You’ve been to the Mad Hatters Casino?” He gives a stiff nod before you look at Kirsoon.

“You’ll be taking their money from now on. What’s your real name?” 

“Hyunwoo.” He whispers as you round the desk.

“Hyunwoo.” You let the name roll off of your tongue before nodding. “Welcome to the Lions Den.” 

He curses gently before you look over at Kirsoon, “Guess someone will be getting the money you so easily lost.” 

You pat Hyunwoo on the shoulder before walking towards the doors. “Make sure he doesn’t run anywhere. We have a lot of money to collect.”

“Yes Madam!”

Arriving home, there was little to no noise besides crickets chirping as the sky became an onyx black littered with small dots of stars. You could only hope Jimin had gone to bed by now so that you didn’t have to beat around the bush as to why you didn’t come home with him. Kirsoon was very capable of dealing with things on his own and the both of you know this. You take off your heels before stepping up the left staircase silently. Your eyes straining to see anything in the darkness but it’s welcoming to have this time to yourself. 

You step up to the third floor before sighing gently, eyes lingering on the three metal doors to your right before anything else. Feet padding gently against the wooden floor you stop before the kids room which used to be yours. With a gentle push the room comes into view illuminated by the Tinkerbell night light that is plugged into the wall. Hawon sleeps soundly, arms over her face in her small bed and you find the corners of your lips turning upwards as she rolls over in her sleep. Minseok sleeps in his crib, on his stomach as per usual and you sigh gently. 

The love you have for your two children could never diminish, never compare to anything else. You find yourself so immensely grateful for the both of them and your lips press into a straight line as you lean on the door frame. You and Jimin work hard to make sure they know how loved they are amidst your busy schedules. And, although you try to hide what you do from them you know they’ll discover it as they become older. It’s only a matter of time. 

Your hand comes to your mouth as you stare at the both of them. There’s something tugging at your heart in this early hours of the morning, something akin to being empty. Your heart was full and your womb was empty. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards to have another one, maybe God was punishing you both for killing men and doing the jobs you’ve created for yourselves. Maybe just maybe you were fated with two and no more.

You shut the door to the kids room before looking over at the intricate wooden doors of the master bedroom. The lion so diligently carved into the wood makes you sigh. You remember a time when you stayed in the kids room and would open the door to look at Jimin’s doors with curiosity and burning passion. There was a sort of mysticality and longing when you first got together, he was something new and different for you and it brought a fire to your veins like nothing you had ever felt before. There was passion and ardor still, but there was also guilt and worry. Two emotions that sit in the pit of your stomach, roiling your nerves to no end. 

You can only look forward to getting the Im’s and giving them payback. It’s something that keeps you going, keeps you moving. Because if you stop, that’s when the guilt and worry really settles in.

You open the door to the bedroom quietly, eyes scanning the moonlit room before seeing your husband in bed. You breathe a sigh of relief as he lays beneath the covers, one arm under his head and the other on the spot where you lay. His lips are parted as he lays still and your heart feels lighter just looking at his handsome face. That’s something you always find yourself grateful for. How being with him can change your mood like whiplash. Your worry is never at the forefront of your brain when you're with him. But, when you're alone that's a different story.

Climbing into bed you feel him shift, eyes opening blearily before smirking. “Hi Kitten.” 

You hum to him as you lay down on your back, eyes on the canopy above you. He shifts closer to you, wrapping his arm around your body before putting his head on your shoulder. “Missed you.” 

You kiss his forehead before closing your eyes, fingertips traipsing over the skin of his arm. “Missed you too.” 

“I love you.” He mumbles sleepily and you smirk before getting comfortable beneath him, “I love you, too.”

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do.” Jimin mumbles with a mouth full of food before pointing his chopsticks in your direction. You sip your screwdriver before putting the spoon up to Minseok’s lips. You watch as he eats greedily before smiling at him and wiping his chin with your thumb. “And, what do you think I’m going to do?”

Jimin swallows before picking up his cup of coffee, “You’re going to send this Hyunwoo to steal from the Ims casino.” You look over at him before smiling. He scoffs gently as you pick up another spoon full of the scrambled eggs for your son. “Kitten.” Jimin mumbles before putting his hand on your knee. 

You look down at his hand before crossing your legs, effectively knocking it off of you. He sighs loudly as you kiss Minseok’s forehead. “What if he gets caught?”

“He won’t.” You say before handing Minseok to Mirae as she sits at the breakfast nook. “But, what if he does? Isn’t the Casino Night enough? Shouldn’t we be worrying about that then having him take their money from counting cards?” 

You hum to him before standing, you finish your screwdriver before kissing his forehead. “I want it all.” You flick your finger underneath his chin and he puts his hands over his face with a groan.

“Mirae watch the kids.” Jimin mumbles before chasing you.

“Hey, hey. Baby.” Your husband whispers, hands running over your bare arms as he stops you in the sitting room. Your arms fold before you look up at your husband. “Can we talk?” He begs of you and you clear your throat before walking past him. You cannot stop, you will not let the guilty set in.

“I have to go count the safe at the casino before it opens for the day.” Jimin’s tongue licks at his lips before he’s following behind you. “Please, Y/N. Give me five minutes.”

You enter your bedroom before walking into the closet and your husband closes the door behind you both. Locking it shut and pressing his back to it so you can’t leave even if you wanted too. “Very mature Jimin.” You mumble before rifling through your clothes. 

“Are you angry with me?” He asks quietly and you raise your eyebrow before grabbing a Chanel dress you had bought not too long ago. “Angry? For what?”

His hands rub together and he stares at the floor. “You didn’t come home with me last night… I waited for you for hours.”

Oh God. Here we go. “I told you, I had Hyunwoo and the card counting to deal with.” 

He nods thoughtfully before his head lolls back against the clouded glass door. “Kirsoon can take care of that stuff, too y’know.” You know this.

You take off your nightgown before sitting on the bench in your walk in closet. “I wanted to take care of it myself.” You whisper, guilt starting to set into your bones. 

“That’s it? That’s the only reason why you didn’t come home with me?” You hesitate before nodding to your husband. “It’s not because we aren’t pregnant yet?” 

Your jaw flexes in annoyance before you’re standing up. “Get out of my way. I have to take a shower and go.” You mumble stepping towards the door. He makes no move and you scoff before putting your hands through your hair.

“Baby.” His voice is gentle and it only makes you more upset. “Get out of my way Jimin.”

His hands reach for you and you take a step back, “Move. Before I make you.” You whisper to him. He swallows thickly before his mocha irises meet yours. “I know it must be really painful for you to not be pregnant yet and I’m really so-”

“Stop!” You cut him off before shoving him out of the way and unlocking the door. “Y/N. I know it’s probably taking a toll on you and I just want to make sure you know how much I love you.” He says as he follows you towards the bathroom.

“Leave me alone, Jimin.” You mumble before kicking open the bathroom door. You go to slam the door in his face, but he’s too quick and strong for that. He shoves the door open before following you inside and you groan loudly. 

“What?! What do you want from me?!” You yell to your husband as you throw your dress onto the marble bench of the bathroom. 

His eyes show sorrow as he looks at you and it only makes your heart clench tighter as you turn away from him. “Leave me be.” You tell him before turning on the shower. 

He walks towards you before hugging you tightly and you shove at his body as your cheeks become inflamed with embarrassment and guilt. “Get off!” You yell to him before he tightens his grip. 

He buries his face into the crook of your neck and you sigh impatiently as the bathroom begins to fog up with steam from the hot shower. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin.

“I love you, too.” You mutter out before he loosens his grip. 

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it. I don’t want to fucking think about it. So just leave me the fuck alone.” You tell your husband, perfectly manicured finger pointing in his direction. 

He picks up your dress before sitting down on the marble bench. His legs cross and he watches you enter the steaming hot shower. He can feel his eyes begin to sting as you put your forehead to the white tiled wall. “Kitten, I think you’re projecting your anger about not being pregnant towards the Ims.” He whispers as his hands run over the expensive fabric of your dress.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?! Didn’t I?!” You yell before sitting down in the shower. With a heavy heart he continues on, knowing you need to hear this. “I know they killed your parents. I know there’s anger there that boils you like it does to me. But, you’re becoming aggressive. Like Jeongguk, you’re going about it in an unhealthy way. And, I think the reason is because you’re feeling guilty and hurt that we haven’t gotten pregnant again yet. I know that-”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! GET OUT!” You scream at the top of your lungs as water begins to berate your head as you lean forward. Jimin bites his bottom lip as you turn your face away from him.

“I love you so much, baby. Another baby will come. I know it.” You scoff before putting your hands to your face, your foot kicks at the porcelain tub. “We just have to keep trying.” He mumbles before rubbing his hands on his suit pants.

Jimin has never been one to just let things lie. It’s what you loved about him, if you’re being honest. He always takes time to talk to you about things that might be troubling you or him so you never have to tiptoe around each other. After the first fight you had when you were pregnant with Hawon, he never kept anything inside after that. You just wish for once he would leave you alone. “We have been trying. Trying and failing.” You find yourself saying, your voice cracks and his head hangs lower at the raw emotion behind it.

“I know, Kitten. I know it’s really hard for you right now. But, I’m your other half, you need to talk to me.” God, he’s so annoying and so right. 

He takes off his clothes, folding them neatly onto the bench before climbing into the shower behind you. He sits down, legs sprawling out beside yours before hugging you tightly from behind. It’s then that a sob rips from you unexpectedly. Your arms fold over your knees before your face is pressed to them. Jimin kisses over your shoulder, letting the hot water soak his body as you begin to cry. “You’re the strongest woman I know. But, it’s okay to not be strong sometimes. That’s why I’m here. To be your other half for you to lean on.” 

Your tears that fall blend in with the water as it runs down the porcelain tub and down the drain. You don’t cry, you don’t break down. You’re Park Y/N, the vixen. And yet…

Your husband sits with you for a while, just letting you cry and even that makes you feel worse. “I feel so empty.” You whimper to him and he looks up at the ceiling as his eyes fill with tears. Trembling lips caress your wet skin and he blinks out a few tears before nodding. 

“We’ll get pregnant again. I know it. My heart bleeds for you, you know that. I see the way you look at yourself in the mirror these days when you think I’m not paying attention. I see it all, everything.” You bury your face into your legs at his admission.

“We’ll get through this just like anything we’ve done before. Alright?” You nod weakly as he runs a hand over your soaked head. “I love you, Kitten.”

A cigarette dangles from Hyunah’s lips as you lean back into your chair. “So what? I’m uninvited to Casino Night then?” She says to you before lighting her cigarette.

“Yes, you’re uninvited.” You tell your friend as you sit in her office. She scoffs before rubbing her hand over her forehead. “Why is that?” 

“Because it’s not a party. It’s a death sentence and you are not invited to die.” You tell her before lighting your own cigarette. She frowns at you before folding her arms. “That’s when I have fun though. I love a good death sentence.”

You giggle gently before ashing your cigarette into the ashtray. “Why do you look like shit?” She questions as her butler places two glasses of wine on the desk.

You look down at your Chanel dress before raising an eyebrow. “I look like shit?” She hums as she pulls from her cigarette. 

“You look all strung out and miserable. Not like a lioness at all, in fact.” You frown before pulling from your cigarette. “Hyunah. I’m really not in the mood to feel more shitty about myself today. Okay?”

She raises an eyebrow before leaning across the desk and wiping her thumb under your eye taking off some of your concealer. “Why’d you cry? Do I have to go kill that little boy?” 

You roll your eyes before pulling away from her and grabbing your glass of red wine. “No. This isn’t about him. It’s about me.” 

She tilts her head before clicking her teeth. “You want another baby?” 

“Oh my God, can you not do that fucking shit for like three seconds?!” You whine to her before standing up. She watches you pace in front of the fireplace before looking at her butler. “Brew some tea, with the tea leaves still inside.”

“No!” You whine to her as her butler leaves. “Yes.”

“I don’t want that shit! I just want to forget about it!” She shakes her head before grabbing her glass of wine. “Tough shit, lioness. We’ll see what the spirits say.”

You stare at Hyunah as the tea pot is set in front of the both of you. She pours you a cup before holding it out. You fold your arms and she shakes her hand gently. “Drink the fucking tea and then swirl the sediment. You’ve done this before when you were pregnant with Minseok and everything I said was correct. Yes or no?”

You grunt gently before nodding, “Then drink the fucking tea.”

You grab the cup before sneering at your older friend. She sips her wine before smirking at you. Good old Lee Hyunah. You chug the tea, the bitterness making you wince before you swirl the cup and hand it back to her. She clears her throat before setting the cup onto the table.

“Let’s see.” She mumbles and you lean forward without a second thought. It’s not that you didn’t believe the tea leaves. It’s that you don’t want to hear bad news from her that you’re suddenly infertile or some shit.

“Interesting.” She whispers to herself and you find yourself rolling your eyes. “Hyunah!” 

The leaves just look like blobs and dashes to you and you find your tongue roaming over your teeth afraid any had gotten stuck in the crevices. “I see many things here, lioness.”

“Like?” You mumble feeling nervous now. 

She points to four circles in a row before looking up at you, “That’s a chain, symbolizes a string of events coming your way.” 

“An anchor is also apparent, meaning things are going to become difficult to change. Maybe within the string of events.”

You tilt your head as her eyes widen, “There is something like a basket which usually symbolizes fertility and a new addition.”

Your breath catches in your throat before you’re leaning your elbows onto the desk for more information. “What else?” You whisper as you peer into the cup of sediment. 

“A bouquet. Symbol of a happy marriage.” You begin to smile before she takes a sharp breath between her teeth before picking up the cup. 

“Oh, lioness.” You can hear the concern in her voice and it makes you shrink in form. “What?” You mumble uneasily.

She points at a black smudge of leaves before swallowing thickly. “That’s a beast, it means misfortune. And right next to it is a skull.” 

She looks up at you before closing her eyes, “The one next to it is a raven.”

She opens her eyes before exhaling long and slow, “It means you’re going to die.” 

[stardancerluv]

When You Take Care of Each Other

Part One of Three: You had a crappy day...started bad...but Roman helped end it much better.

Arthor’s Note: Roman taking care if his girl after her bad day. Wanted to show he could be tender. In the next one you will see how she takes care of him. In third one you will what happens when their moods clash and they are both are in bad places. All the pieces will have moments will have sex. This one was more intimate.

Warning: depressed feelings, angst, softdaddy!kink, fingering, kissing & mentioning of male arousal.

Sometimes, you would come back to the penthouse and you would be so tired, you would just climb into bed and cry. Sure your world had gotten much better for since you became Roman’s girl but stress and deadlines had not ceased to exist.

Today was one of those days, where your stress consumed you. After leaving the elevator, you had managed to stop and pull off your shoes, your coat. Life was feeling particularly heavy that day.

You continued down the hall. You didn’t pop your head into Roman’s office to see if he was there or let him know you were home. You just kept on shuffling to the bedroom, the two of you shared.

You shed the last of your clothes. Without a stitch on, you walked into the bathroom. A quick shiver overcame you when your feet touched the cold dark marble. You managed to place a towel and your robe near the warmer. Then you drew yourself a bath.

You were so raw from your day that you didn’t have the energy to put soap or even relaxing bath salts into the water. Sitting on the edge of the tub, you turning the knobs you turned off the water. Reaching up, you unpinned your hair then stepping in, you sighed. Drawing your knees close to your chest and wrapping your arms around them, laying your head down you let yourself begin to relax.

Tears filled and fell from your tired eyes. Soft ragged breathes came from you. As you continued to rest your cheek on your knee your sadness and your frustration finally began to melt away. Though a sense of tiredness and feelings of being worn out remained. Some sleep and perhaps a drink later would help.

It was times like this that you would shy away from Roman. You never wanted to be the one who would bring a dark, gray cloud over him. His struggle with his own demons were dark and bad enough.

Since becoming an item an interesting development unraveled. There were times when you felt like this and he’d not be far from his own darkness. The two of you would spiral into a cyclone of drinking and dark almost angry lustful hours, on occasion It would last a few days But that was rare. Those were the days, when you would be closest to the darker side of how he maintained his power. His mask, his knives and you’d completely submit to him and his whims. Eventually, you both would emerge with clearer hearts and minds.

There were other times when he would pull you and free you from your darkness. When he did, he always had uncanny ability to know just what you needed.

Mostly, you were not ruffled by the tribulations of life. You wouldn’t allow any of them to take a hold. In those days, you pulled Roman free.

Right now however, all you wanted to do was sleep.

*******

Roman was on the phone with Falcone when he saw a shadow lurch by his door.

“Listen, I have to go.”

He knew by how that shadow moved, you were not having a good day. Shedding his suit jacket, he left it at his desk and he headed down to the kitchen. On the way there, he straightened your shoes and the belt on your coat.

Once in the kitchen, he grabbed the sweets he had bought earlier for the two of you to enjoy. Now was a good as time as any.

When he arrived in the bedroom he didn’t smell the sweet oils or calming bath salts either of you would buy so he that told him just how much you needed him. Taking off his shoes, he peered into the bathroom and saw you huddled in the water. “Aw, baby.” He said softly.

You barely looked over. Going over to you he knelt near you and gently ran his hand on your back.

“Did you have a bad day?” He cooed softly.

You nodded. He continued rub your back, he could feel you relax under his touch. “Would you like daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes.” You finally managed to say.

“Ok, good.” He hated seeing you like this.

Before you, Victor would try and help him but would only tell him what he thought he wanted to hear. Sometimes, that made his darker moments longer.

You were the only one who made them really see them for what they were and try to get him out of them. So when he could help you and he was in a good enough place, he liked doing it.

Getting up, he went over to the towel warmer. At least you had done that for yourself, he mused. He brought over your towel and robe. He put the robe down. “Alright, lets get you out of there before you get all wrinkly.”

He helped you out, reached down he pulled the stopper. After wrapping the the towel around your curvy frame, his arms wrapped around you, holding the towel in place.

You stiffened, though he knew it was because of your mood. It was some moments but eventually you softened. Tossing the towel away, he then with your help, you slipped your robe on. It was your big fluffy one. He knotted it just so. As he looked you up and down, he was reminded of how you looked especially cute in it.

He drew your face up, you fought him a little and your kept your eyes down cast. “Baby, if you were feeling this down you could have grabbed daddy’s. I know how much you like disappearing in it.” He tried to catch your eye.

You lip quivered. “I didn’t want to get it wet from my bath.” You said in a small voice.

His thumb caressed your chin. “Next time grab it. Daddy wants you to feel loved and cared for, he knows you get alot of comfort from it.”

“Ok.” You replied.

“My beautiful sad girl, we have to make her feel better.” Very easily then, he picked you up, after short hesitation he felt as you wrapped your arms around him. He smiled as he felt you nestle in close and melt against him.

Walking back out to the bedroom, kneeling on the bed he placed you in the middle of it. Leaving, you only a moment, he went and dimmed the lights.

Returning to you, he laid on his side beside you. “Baby, do you want to tell me what made your day bad?”

You turned your head to look at him. “Was just a...a bad day.” You sighed.

He nodded. “Ok. Sometimes, those can be the worst.”

You nodded and looked away again, as you did for a little while he just rested his forehead on your shoulder closest to him. Deeply he inhaled you and the sweet scents that lingered on the robe.

A little later, he tested the waters to see how you were feelings. He pressed some soft kisses on you. When you didn’t resist or tell him no he continued.

Reaching down he gently undid the belt. Slowly, he let his hand slip under the soft warmth of it. He caressed your stomach and your hip. He heard and felt as you inhaled.

Moving his hand higher, he cupped one of your breasts. With his hand he nudged the robe away, in doing so he saw that even though he had barely began to touch you, that you were as taunt as a little bud.

He rose an eyebrow and looked at you. “Is baby, already happy with daddy wanting you to feel better?”

“Yes, please daddy don’t stop.”

He smiled gently. “I couldn’t even imagine stopping.” Roman let his hand move just so between your breasts. He loved how your curves and softness were just open for him. His lips and tongue followed his fingers.

He could feel as your heart had begun to pick up speed, it made his lips curl into a smile as he continued to kiss and touch you.

As your breathing grew shallower, he looked up and saw how good you felt with how your face was awash with pleasure it made him happy. It looked like whatever had bothered you was finally diminishing.

He inwardly groaned with his own pleasure as he felt one of your hands find him, as your hand rested on him outside his slacks, he stopped your hand as moved to his belt. “Baby,“ He said softly. “No, no right now is about you.” He brought your hand back to where it was. “But if you want to keep your hand there you can but that’s all I will allow right now.”

He bit back the chuckle of the small pout that had formed on your lips. “You can help me feel better later. But not right now.”

He knew you would make him feel amazing but right now it was your time. He could wait. Not always but right now he could.

The pout vanished as his hand cupped you, your softest spot. “I love that you share this with daddy.” He squeezed it gently, letting his fingers begin to caress you. “So wet and welcoming, such good girl.” He said softly by your ear, he kissed your throat there and even nibbled a little. Loving that as he did so, he pulled such passionate sounds from you.

“Daddy hates seeing you so sad. He is glad you are beginning to feel better.” A deep sound from his chest came as your hand moved on him. “Baby,” he couldn’t swallow down the one sound, it felt too good. “Focus on what I’m doing, this is your time.” He cooed, he nuzzled at you again quickening his pace.

As he did he smiled. He felt yourself abandon yourself to what he was doing. Soon, the robe hung from you as your arched and writhed. Right now was not the time for you to ask and he was glad you knew. Distantly, he knew in the end it would be too much to count. Yet, he would continue to touch and caress you.

“Daddy, daddy” you said later, breathless. Your eyes were vibrant and clear, when they met his. “Please...please.”

“Please, what?” He quickened him fingers.

“I can’t...I can’t what?”

“Cum sweetly for me one more time?” He asked eyebrows raised.

“Yes, I will be a mess, I’ve already cum so much.”

He smiled and drew closer, his lips brushed yours as he spoke. “One more then.” He slowed his fingers now. Your lips found his and the two of you finally shared a kiss but your broke it as you arched sharply as he made you came a final time. You were breathless as you looked at him. He let you watch as he licked his fingers clean of your soft delicate tangy self.

He finally let his fingers leave you. “Feel good baby?”

“Yes.” Your eyes were heavy from it.

“Good, now sleep.” Gently he held your hand against him still very hard in his slacks. “Maybe later you can make daddy feel good too.”

A soft groan came from you. “I would like that.” You whispered.

You moved and gave him a kiss before curling into his side. He held you there as he let his arm wrap around and hold you there. Despite being so out of breath, it soon evened out and he knew you had fallen asleep. Eyeing the clock on the nightstand behind you, he smiled. Enough time before the club opened. He closed eyes, letting himself drift off.

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @saphic-susperia @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @lemairepstuff

[a-dorin]

sorrow | fives

word count: 978

warnings: angst (lots of it and i am not sorry), ptsd, dealing with grief, mentions of loss, mentions of death, mentions of violence 

prompt:  “You gave me the ok so here we go: Fives comes back from Umbarra and just needs to be held because he almost died and so many of his brothers did and just some really soft fluff. I really don’t care how long you make it but I am a whore for soft fives”

one hand rested on the transparisteel, speeders zooming by, the lights glittering. coruscant at this time was enchanting, a sprawling ecumenopolis bustling with the chatter of civilians, advertisements flashing, neon lights twinkling and glowing. 

the other hand clutched your heart, your mind racing as your eyes scanned the skyline, desperate to witness that shuttle descend, to watch as it docked, promising of soldiers. 

soldiers returning home. 

“miss,” your advisor cleared his throat, his cerulean skin a silvery hue in the light, “i received word that your fiance has returned from umbara.”

your heart fluttered, a sliver of joy bubbling in your stomach.

“linus, will you inform him to come visit?”

“dully noted miss,” linus dipped his head, “although, from text inscribed in the transmission, you may want to prepare yourself, (y/n).”

“what do you mean?”

linus’ eyes scanned the datapad, shaking his head slightly, “it appears as if the clone army suffered from heavy losses-”

“that is all i need to hear,” you exhaled, crossing over to your desk, “please, linus, if you see fives, just send him in, will you?”

“always,” linus responded coolly, his head tails swinging behind him as he turned, padding towards the grand doors, “the second i am aware of his presence in the senate building, i will fetch him.”

“thank you,” bringing your fingers to your temple, you inhaled deeply, in a vain attempt to keep your composure.

“anything for you.”

settling into your chair, you absentmindedly sift through some paperwork. yet, it was no use. 

there was no distracting from the inevitable. 

it was almost as if you could sense his presence as he approached the doors. the temperature of the air decreased, the space crackling as three soft knocks echoed. 

springing from your chair, you smoothed out your gown, running a hand through your hair, “come in.”

the soldier who stood before you was no where near the man you once knew.

eyes that were once glimmering chestnut pools, bursting with joy and amusement were now hollow and vacant. 

two obsidian canyons, deepened and carved by grief, hardened by loss.

new wrinkles etched into his forehead, his lips curved into a frown. 

yet, the moment his gaze fell on you.

the corners of his lips tugged into a weary, broken smile. 

“i never thought i would have lived to see that gorgeous face again.”

“oh fives-” your lower lip quivered, tears blurring your vision. 

there was a flurry of arms, bodies tangling together as you held onto him, clinging to his blacks. his head burrowed into your chest, his shoulders shaking as he wept. wails rang through the office, bouncing off the walls and back into your ears.

the cries were far more horrid the second time.

“i-i-” fives sputtered, but you were quick to hush him.

“my love,” you murmured, your voice faltering, “you don’t have to-”

“we lost so many,” the words were barely strung together, “we lost so -- i lost so many of my brothers.”

squeezing your eyes shut, you inhaled sharply, “fives, i am-”

“i wish i could forget. baby, their faces are permanently ingrained in my head. they won’t fuckin’ leave. every time i close my eyes, i see their faces. i see us all in the mess hall together, sharing a meal. i remember the jokes we shared and the nights where we’d disobey orders, just to sneak out and watch the stars as we floated in space. but then, oh gods. i can’t shake it away. i remember how they died, and how i just watched.”

“fives,” his name was firm as it rolled off your tongue, an attempt to soothe him, yet your fiance continued, his voice eerily quiet as his head rested on your collarbone. 

“how come it was them but not me? how come i got to live while my brothers perished?”

a hand laced into his dark hair, fingers running through the locks, “fives, i want you to listen to me. i was not there at umbara, so i cannot even fathom how awful it was. i know how much you adore your brothers. not only do you fight for the republic, but you fight for your brothers too. i can promise you that their deaths were not your fault, fives. i know that you fought hard for them.”

“but i failed to protect--”

“you did not fail,” you whispered, “fives, you did not fail.”

“i love you,” fives let out a shaky breath, his breathing more steady as the cries ceased, “i couldn't even fathom of any other woman in my life, cyar'ika. you know when the timing is right and you always say the right things.”

“i need you,” you murmured, your voice delicate, “i love you too, fives.”

“i need you, cyar'ika,” his gaze drifted upwards, “i’ll always need you. especially during times like this.”

“i won’t ever stray from your side,” leaning in, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “i won’t ever leave you, fives.”

“do you promise?” the words were a content sigh as your fingers began to roam, tracing his back.

the soldier’s grief dissolved for a moment, his features softening as fingertips danced, drawing lazy circles and shapes. 

for a moment, the memory of umbara disappeared from fives’ mind, his thoughts replaced by the sheer bliss of being in your embrace. the arms of the love of his life. his soul mate. 

for a moment, the sorrow was diminished. 

yet, in your heart, you knew that there would be more instances like this. more moments in which you would bring the soldier comfort as he wept, promising that there was always a new dawn. that there would always be a light at the end of the tunnel. that there would always be light in the darkness. 

that there would always be joy to come after the sorrow. 

“i promise.”

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

1998

Summary: Once your brother left for college, it became clear to you that Rami was going to make you Scott’s replacement. And as his replacement, you could expect two things.

One: Rami would continue spending more time at your house than his own.

Two: It was only a matter of time before Rami Malek talked you into doing something that could get you grounded for the rest of your life.

A/N: This fic is basically porn for the best decade EVER: the 90s. @the-real-ramimalekpeen​ I hope this does your request justice 💛

Wordcount: 7106

Warnings: All the characters are underage (17) so I will warn for drinking, smoking cigarettes, and PG-13 making out. Honestly though, by today’s standards, this fic is wholesome as fuck—welcome (back) to the 90s, bebes 💛

Considering it was after 9:00 pm on a school night, Rami Malek had no business being in your bedroom.

 Except that Rami Malek, one half of the legendary Malek Twins, was always at your house.

 His best friend, who also happened to be your brother, had just gone off to college. At first, you thought Rami still hung around so much because he was scared about doing the same next fall, but then, a part of you began to wonder if he really did miss your brother that much.

 Scott was the first real friend Rami made when he and Sami came to your school as freshmen. At first, they didn’t appear to have a thing in common, but after a few months, Rami and Scott were inseparable. By the end of Rami’s first year at Notre Dame, everyone joked that Scott was actually Rami’s twin, not Sami.

 One thing all three of the boys had in common, though, was their penchant for mischief. It wasn’t that they were bad. They were energetic, charming, and had decided to dedicate most of their high school experience to testing the limits placed upon them by authority figures.

 After Scott had left and the time Rami spent at your house did not diminish, it became clear that to Rami, you were now your brother’s replacement. And as his replacement, you could expect two things.

 One: Rami would continue his tradition of eating dinner more times a week at your house than his own.

 This didn’t bother you because your parents loved Rami—they loved him so much they didn’t protest when he insisted on doing the dishes on the nights he ate with you. That was a win in your book because it meant you had one less chore.

 However, Rami’s new focus on you did prompt a rather uncomfortable conversation with your mother.

 One night after he had gone home, she knocked on your bedroom door and fixed you with that look as she took a seat on the edge of your bed. She sharply inhaled then asked if you and Rami were dating. Because if so, she and your father needed to set some boundaries about the times Rami could and could not be at the house.

 The mixed look of shock and horror on your face made her laugh, but that initial reaction was quickly replaced with anger. Scott had girls at the house all the time and your parents had never said a word. In that moment, it became clear that your brother was afforded more freedom just because he was a boy. It was total garbage!

 So, for the next few weeks, you stewed in quiet rebellion, outraged by the clear gender discrimination being doled upon you by your OWN parents, and when you confessed as much to Rami, he flashed you the famous Malek grin and you knew you were in for expectation number two: It was only a matter of time before Rami talked you into doing something that would get you grounded for the rest of your life.

 A few nights later, you were watching TV in the living room and doing homework (you were doing homework while Rami seemed to be practicing his origami skills) when a paper airplane flew directly into your face and bounced off your forehead.  

 “Hey!” you yelled, glaring at Rami while you rubbed at the spot where the point hit.

 He was already leaning forward, an apology tumbling from his lips which seemed pretty insincere considering he was also trying to stifle his laughter.

 “What is this?” you asked as you picked up his paper airplane from the spot where it had landed, the bright colors of the paper catching your eye.

 After you unfolded it and realized it was a flyer for a local band, your stomach began to flutter.

 You looked up at Rami who looked like the cat that ate the canary. He nodded vigorously at the question on your face, then began to talk in a low, rapid voice.

 “Got it all worked out. I’ll come over for dinner. Sami will meet us with the car after your parents are in bed. You don’t have to do anything other than follow my lead—and not get caught.”

At 17, music was everything.

 You loved listening to live music, and as long as the concert was at an all-ages venue, you were allowed to go unchaperoned. That was great, if you wanted to see mainstream music, but since focusing his attention on you, Rami had turned you on to the joys of underground rock bands.

 Instead of listening to another shitty recording, Rami was presenting you with the opportunity to see a live show.

 Feeling giddy, you slammed your notebook shut and you and Rami spent the rest of the evening ironing out your plan. By the time he left to go home, you felt like it was foolproof.

 * * * * *

 The band was playing at a dive bar just outside of West Hollywood. Rami said the crowd would be fun—mostly college kids, partying it up on Thirsty Thursday. The plan was to hang out, watch TV until your dad gave you the look that meant it was time to kick Rami out, but instead of him leaving, you would call out your goodnights and he would sneak upstairs to your room and hide in your closet.

 After you had said goodnight to Rami, you went back into the living room and tried to swallow all of your excitement. After fifteen minutes of fidgeting, you told your parents you had a big test in the morning and wanted to go to bed early.

 They smiled and said goodnight, your mom following you up the stairs to take a bath and settle in with her book.

 You went into the bathroom and followed your nightly routine, making sure not to rouse any suspicion, and when you finally climbed into your bed and turned off your lamp, Rami popped out of the closet.

 “Are they asleep yet?”  

 “Shhh,” you hissed, clambering to the end of your bed and knocking into him as you stood. “Dad just shut off the TV.” “Sami’s waiting,” Rami said glancing at his watch even though it was too dark to see anything more than a blob of black on his wrist.

 “I’m aware of the plan,” you whispered as you ignored his fretting and flipped on the closet light to pick up the outfit you had set aside earlier.

 You paused in your movement and hurriedly flicked off the light. Straining your ears, you heard your dad walk by your room and you only released the breath you had been holding when you heard his door click shut.

 You flicked on the closet light again, and almost pulled your pajama top off in your haste before realizing that Rami was staring at you. When you turned to look at him, he motioned for you to hurry up, his eyes growing larger as if the bigger they got the more hurried your movements would become.

 You threw up your hands and harshly whispered, “Turn around!”

 Rami blinked stupidly, his mouth popping open as he realized you needed to change. If you could have seen his cheeks, you would have seen that they were the same color of red as the squares of plaid on his shirt.

 “S-sorry,” he stuttered as he turned away, his head hanging down as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his oversized jeans.

 With a tsk of dismissal, you shimmied into your favorite LEI jeans with the flared bottoms tattered perfectly from dragging on the ground. You had opted for a fitted, light blue, long-sleeved tee that just showed off a bit of your stomach because the v-neck also showed off your cleavage. You thought about grabbing the flannel you had stolen from your brother, but it was still warm enough out not to need it. Besides, there was sure to be something in the boys’ car if you needed it.

Sitting on the floor, you pushed down the top of your thong, knowing it was peeking out as you settled in to do your makeup.

 “I’m dressed,” you said as you began to swipe on some frosted blue eye shadow.

 As you pumped your mascara, Rami whined, “Can’t you do that in the car.”

 “In the pitch-black car?” you bit back as you scraped a bit of the eye shadow into one of your empty make up containers before dribbling clear lip gloss in to mix it up. As you dabbed it on your lips, you smiled at the perfectly muted but still-frosty compliment to your eye makeup.  

 Smacking your lips together with a pop, you quickly wrapped two small chunks of your hair up in two messy knots and secured them with tight, clear gumbands. You adjusted your chocker, then slipped into a pair of black, chunky shoes.

 You grabbed your wide, black belt and looped it through your jeans as Rami paced, the swishing of his jeans starting to drive you a little crazy as you rushed over to fix up your bed so it looked like a lump of a human was still in it.

 After situating your colorful hemp purse across your torso, you softly said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

 Rami stopped pacing and looked you over before giving you a half smile. “You look good.”

 “Until my parents catch us doing this and skin me alive,” you countered as you flicked off the light.

 Rami grinned, his teeth flashing in the dark. “They won’t—promise.”

 “Your promises have, like, an 83% failure rate,” you argued as you pushed past him and opened the window as quietly as possible.

 “Fine—I swear on Sami’s life we won’t get caught,” he whispered before he scrambled out of the window and on to the roof.

 He held out his hand and you took it while you climbed out after him. Your eyes looked toward your parents’ room, and your heart hammered as you were sure their light was going to flick on at any second.

 “That mayyybe gives us odds in the ballpark of 70 - 30,” you whispered when you turned your eyes back to Rami, quickly pulling away as you realized you were still holding his hand.

 He stifled a chuckle as he crept toward the farthest edge of the roof, and when a ladder appeared, you knew Sami was below.

 “Go ahead,” Rami rasped, holding on to the top of the ladder as you swung your legs over and began to cautiously climb down.

 When you got closer to the ground, you felt Sami’s hand on your calf as he whispered, “Hey, Y/N—you good?”

 “Yeah,” you whispered back, a wave of ease sweeping through you when you finally touched the ground.

 “Cute,” Sami smiled as he gave one of the twists in your hair a little tap.

 You smiled back before turning your attention to Rami as he hopped off the second to last rung. With a practiced ease, he pulled the ladder from the roof without making a sound and laid it flat behind your mother’s rose bushes. The ladder was completely hidden, and you quickly realized that the boys had done this many times before.

 The three of you jogged to where Sami had parked the car, and since you had followed him to the driver’s side, he opened up the back door so you could climb in. When Rami settled into the passenger seat, he let out a whoop of success. The three of you laughed, and you knew you had to ask, “How many times did you two sneak Scottie out of the house?”

Sami snorted and started the engine, while Rami shrugged his shoulders and turned his hands over, feigning ignorance.

 “I see how it is,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Rami’s profile until he quickly turned and shot you a wink that was more like a blink.

 You giggled, “One eye is a wink, you dork!”

 Sami’s shoulders shook with a silent chuckle as he turned up the radio and you settled back in your seat to bask in the joy of being with your friends; it was well worth the trepidation you had felt about sneaking out on a school night, and as you watched Rami’s smiling profile, lit up by each street lamp you sped past, you felt a sudden flush of pleasure that he had gone through so much trouble to give you this night.

 As soon as you were on the 101 heading out of the Valley, the boys both lit up. Rami offered you a cigarette, expecting you to decline, so when you said, “Why not?” he choked as he was inhaling and Sami’s eyes flashed up at you from the rearview.

 “Um, this is my night of rebellion, okay? I may as well do it right,” you explained as Rami put your cigarette between his lips, lit it, then passed it back to you.

 He watched with interest as you smoothly inhaled, then blew a stream of smoke out in his direction.

 “What? You think Scott and I never partied together when mom and dad went outta town? Who do you think got me drunk for the first time?”

 “How old?” Sami asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled, his cigarette dangling from his lips as he relaxed back into the driver’s seat having just switched lanes.

 “14. Got me fucked up on screwdrivers of all things. I couldn’t drink OJ for a month.”

 The boys burst into laughter, then Rami explained that Scott had done the same thing to them.

 “Sami was so hungover mom thought he had the flu.”

 “And you weren’t hungover because you puked your guts out in dad’s hedges. I still don’t think he knows why that one turned brown and died.”

 “Shut up,” Rami grinned as he lightly punched his brother’s shoulder.

 “I’m driving asshole,” Sami murmured around his cigarette.

 “At least I don’t look like one,” Rami countered, making you roll your eyes and take another long drag of your cigarette.

 Because you didn’t smoke often, you already felt the sweet lightheadedness that came after a few pulls. You ashed out of the crack in your window and breathed in the cool air that was flowing from the boys’ open windows, contrasting deliciously with the heat of the smoke as it trailed down your throat.

 “Fight nice, boys,” you called up to the front, before immediately regretting your interruption because they both teamed up to rag on you.

Twins, you thought as you countered their attacks as best you could.

 Maybe it was the effect of the nicotine, or the natural high of sneaking out with the Malek brothers, but watching Rami from the back seat, you began to think of him as more than just your brother’s friend, and now, your friend. There was something about him, something about the way he made you feel that didn’t feel like any of your other friends.

 And speaking of other friends, you looked at the back of Sami’s head and watched his eyes in the rearview mirror, but that thing, that chemical pull of attraction wasn’t there. When you glanced over at Rami, you felt it.

 You let your gaze ping-pong between them, testing out your fledgling feelings. With a frown, you turned away from both of them and watched the cars in the parallel lanes, wondering if it was even worth figuring out.

 “Helloooo,” Rami called, squeezing your knee to pull you out of your thoughts.

 “Huh? What did you say?”

 “I asked what you thought of Stacy.”

 “Stacy Browning?”

 “Duh. She’s like the only Stacy in our English class.”

 “What about her?”

 “She’s supposed to be here tonight.”

 “Rami’s got the hots for Staaacyyy,” Sami sing-songed as he signaled and took the exit for West Hollywood.

 Rami didn’t refute his brother and something mean bubbled out of you as an image of Stacy, laughing and pushing into Rami’s side as he wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers just resting above the pocket on the ass of her jeans, flashed through your mind.

 “Sami has a better shot than you any day of the week. Isn’t that how it usually works, Ram?”

 You watched as the hurt twisted across Rami’s face, but your attention was drawn to Sami’s laughter as he guffawed, “Ooooh—harsh!”

 You laughed, looking anywhere but at Rami, who half-heartedly joined in.  

 What you said made you feel sick, like an aftereffect of a violent action.

 What the fuck, Y/N? you scolded yourself.

 “Is this the turn?” Sami asked, growing serious as he navigated the crowded streets and started looking for parking.

 “Yeah—park anywhere you find a spot. The bar’s like a block, maybe two that way.”

After a few more minutes, Sami found a spot and parallel parked with an easy precision.

 “Good thing Rami didn’t drive,” you teased, trying to get him to look at you like he had before you’d hurt him.

 Instead, he hopped out of the passenger side and slammed the door shut.

 Sami opened your door, and chuckled as he said, “Fuck—there are at least three trashcans that have unclaimed relatives lying in the morgue thanks to him.”

 You laughed and looked over at Rami who had a soft smile on his face. He shook his head, “Fuck you guys.”

 You skipped over to him and poked at his ribs. “Come ooon—we know you didn’t mean to destroy the entire trashcan-family on Woodbridge Street. It was an honest massacre because you forgot which pedal was the break.”

 “Like the first time I drove EVER!” Rami defended, finally turning to smile at you.

 “And who doesn’t even have their license?” he shot back, his face coming dangerously close to yours as he picked on you.

 “Like, excuuuse me for having an older brother! How keen do you think mom and dad were to let me drive after Scottie nearly got arrested for speeding—twice?”

 “Oh, shit,” Sami said. “I remember that second time—”

 The twins launched into a retelling of the story, one you’d heard a thousand times, but it made Rami laugh, his face back to its normal, jovial disposition. As you walked, your head turning between the boys as they spoke, you relaxed knowing it wasn’t in Rami’s nature to dwell on something negative. By now, he had probably dismissed your comment as a joke.

 The bar came into view and there was no mistaking it for a nice place. The neon signs made it look more sinister than hip, and the trashcans outside were overflowing. However, the crowd queued at the entrance was just as Rami had described—college-aged kids, smoking, talking, and laughing as they paid their cover and ducked inside, the noise spilling into the street each time the bouncer opened the door.

 Instead of joining the line at the entrance, Rami led you and Sami down an alley that was a little too dark for your liking.

 “Rami?” you questioned, and he reached back for your hand, linking his fingers with yours.

 After a few more steps, Rami stopped and released your hand. He reached up and banged loudly on the unmarked, steel door.

 An older man, probably in his 50s, pushed open the door and flooded the backstreet with light. You squinted as you were assaulted with the brightness and the smoke that wafted out.

 “Malek. My man,” he rasped as he fist-bumped Rami. “And Malek Número Dos. What’s up bros?”  

 Sami greeted the man in the same fashion as his brother, and then the man noticed you.

“Switchin’ it up tonight, huh? Bringin’ a girl ‘stead of leavin’ with one?”

 You raised your brow and crossed your arms, that same feeling from earlier creeping through your chest and into your gut.

 “Scott’s little sister,” Rami explained, and the older man chortled and gave you a full, lingering look.

 He nodded with what you deemed to be approval and he fished out three paper bracelets from his pocket.

 “Keep her outta trouble, yeah?” he said with a slow, lecherous grin.

 “You can count on it,” Rami answered, giving him a tight, but still friendly smile as he turned to you, instructing you to hold out your wrist.

 You watched as he positioned the neon orange band, then peeled back the tape.

 “Too tight?”

 “Nah. It’s good.”

 Maybe it was nothing, but Rami’s thumb lightly stroked the spot where he had just stuck the band in place and when you looked up, he was watching your face.

 You smiled at him, a slow, sincere grin and when he returned your look, it felt like you were swallowing honey—sticky and sweet, the warm feeling slid down your throat and made your cheeks feel hot.

 Sami cleared his throat.

 “Someone wanna do me?” he asked as he waved his bracelet in front of your faces.

 Rami shot him a vicious look, but Sami just stuck out his wrist and waited.

 “We meet right out front after the show. Not in the alley.”

 You and Rami both just looked at him, and Sami prompted, “Okay?” as if he were dealing with two teenaged idiots instead of also being one himself.

 “Yeah—meet out front,” Rami said dismissively, his eyes willing Sami to get lost, but he was already slipping away down the hall and out into the bar.

 “You ready for this?”

 “Just—just don’t leave me alone, okay?” you said, thinking about the way Rami’s guy had looked at you.

 “Of course not,” Rami said with a reassuring smile. He lowered his voice and continued, “Let’s put some distance between us and Crazy Carlos.

 “Crazy Carlos?” you hissed.

 “No one calls him that to his face,” Rami assured you, then laughed at the way your eyes widened.

Once you were mixing into the crowd, the noise level ratcheted up and you were forced to yell into each other’s ears.

 Rami’s eyes scanned the bar, once, twice, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking for Stacy.

“Wanna get a drink?” you asked loudly, leaning into his body to get closer to his ear.

 “Yeah! What do you want?”

 “Just a beer!”

 Rami nodded and led you to the bar. You tried to take up as little space as possible and when you spotted a couple leaving their hightop along the wall, you tugged on Rami’s flannel to get his attention. He turned back to look at you and you pointed to the table. He nodded and watched as you darted over and took a seat.

 Instantly, your hand landed in the waste of someone’s spilled drink and you huffed in disgust as you wiped your hand on your jeans. You looked around for Sami, but it was impossible to see through the throng of drinkers and the haze of smoke.

 “You okay?” Rami yelled, taking the seat across from you and sliding your bottle toward you.

 “Stop treating me like a baby! I’m the same age as you!”

 Rami rolled his eyes, but his lips were drawn into a smirk as he took a swig of his beer.

 You took a drink, too, and watched him comfortably lean back into the wall so he could face the room and check out the crowd, your mind immediately flashing back to that image of Rami and Stacy, laughing, touching.

 “She’s not good enough for you,” you said through gritted teeth.

 “What?” Rami asked, leaning forward as much as the table allowed.

 “She’s not good enough for you!”

 Rami shook his head, still unable to hear you. With a huff, you slid off your chair and rounded the table to stand between his spread legs. You rested one hand on his thigh as you leaned into his ear and yelled, “Stacy! She’s not good enough for you!”

 Rami moved back, raising his eyebrows, as he sat up straighter on his stool.

 “Not exactly what you said in the car,” he answered, your eyes watching his lips so you could make out what he said.  

 Scanning his face, you wondered if he could see that you were sorry.

 Just as you leaned in to apologize, the lead singer whistled into the mike and made you jump. Rami’s eyes danced with laughter as he took another swig of his beer, and both of you turned your attention to the band.

 “Hey, you drunk motherfuckers—you ready to put a little shimmy in your jimmy? A little rock in your cock?”

 The crowd cheered, and you felt Rami stand, his front pressing into your back as he lightly pushed you into the crowd. He kept moving until you could see the stage, then he moved to stand beside you, his arm resting against yours.

 The first two songs were great, and you knew that sneaking out had been completely worth it. The band was good, really good, and you expected you’d be able to say you’d seen them live before they made it big.

 As the songs played, you and Rami both moved along to the music, heads bobbing and bodies shifting as much as the limited space allowed. Every now and then, you’d shoot a grin at each other, and when the third song began, you realized your beer was long gone.

 You thought about shoving the empty bottle in your pocket, but Rami read your mild distress and leaned in to tell you to save his spot.

 He shuffled through the crowd to get rid of your empties, and you widened your stance to save his spot, then refocused on the band.

 Before the third song was over, Rami was back, and you mouthed thanks. He gave your hair twist a tap, just as Sami had done earlier, making you smile and shake your head.

 After the next song, the bassist and lead guitar put their instruments down and the drummer disappeared.

 “You’re fuckin’ animals and I love it! But those guys need a drink so I’m gonna slow shit down with a song I wrote a few years back.”

 When the acoustic number began, you were shocked the lead singer’s gruff voice was so low and smooth. As he crooned, people swayed lightly with their faces trained on the stage. You don’t know whether it was you who moved closer to Rami or Rami who moved closer to you, but somehow, you found yourself standing partially in front of him, just close enough for his hand to creep around your waist. You smiled without looking at him and stepped into his touch, pulling his other arm to wrap around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. He laced his fingers across your stomach and leaned into your hair, both of you swaying in time to the soft music.

 As you stood together, like a couple, your mind began to race. Everything became too much and not enough at the same time. Rami’s grip was too loose and too tight. The singer’s words were too soft and his guitar was too loud. The shadows cast on the stage were too dark and the spotlight was too bright.

 And when you felt Rami’s chest vibrate into your back as he sang along under his breath, it felt too harsh, but when his pinky lightly stroked the exposed flesh on your stomach, it felt too sensitive. Your body was a tingling mess at his touch, so you took back some control. Your arms were already resting over Rami’s, but your thumb found his and you touched him gently, back and forth, in a mirror of the way his little finger was still sliding over the exposed skin of your midriff.

 Rami’s mouth crept closer to your ear and you shivered as his breath rustled your hair. You wanted to crane your neck, turn into his body and give him the angle he needed to kiss you, but you were still at war with feeling too much and not enough at the same time.  

 When the song ended, the singer thanked everyone, then encouraged you all to grab another beer while he took a piss. You felt a profound loss when Rami relaxed his grip and let his arms slide away from your waist and to your hips.  

 “Want another beer?” he asked into your ear as he gave your hips a squeeze before he dropped his hands.

 “Sure—yeah,” you lied.

 You turned to watch him disappear into the crowd and almost immediately, Rami’s warmth against your back was replaced with a new but identical one.

 “Having fun?”

 You whirled around, your mouth popping open slightly before snapping shut.

 “Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Sam—are you drinking?” you asked, bending slightly to sniff at his cup.

 “It’s water, dumbass. They only have two more songs.”

 You narrowed your eyes at Rami’s twin as he continued to look at you, clearly waiting for you to confess your secret. You didn’t know if he had seen the two of you during the last song or if he was just acting on a hunch, but you were not about to confess your feelings to Sami before you told Rami.

 Even though that was exactly what Sami wanted.

 The same blueish eyes as Rami’s bored into yours, but neither of you spoke.

 You decided to answer Sami’s original question in a breezy tone, “By the way, yeah, I’m having fun. Are you having fun?”

 He narrowed his eyes in response.

 “Because I think this is the most fun I’ve ever—"

 “Just tell him!” Sami interrupted with a huff.  

 “There’s nothing to tell,” you insisted, crossing your arms and stepping toward him as someone bumped into you.

 “Stop lying.”  

 “There isn’t,” you insisted, hating the way Sami was smirking at you over the rim of his water cup.

 He took a drink, then said, “Guess I’ll let Stacy know she’s free to come ov—”

 “She’s here?!?” you panicked, your eyes darting in the direction Sami had been looking.

 His laughter rang out over the din and you whipped your eyes back to his.

 “Nothing to tell, huh?”

 Your nostrils flared as you pinched at his side, knowing he was ticklish. He jumped away from your fingers, chuckling as he made his way back to his friends. You watched him go, making sure he was lying about Stacy.  

 Right before the band packed back onto the tiny stage, Rami shuffled back into his spot beside you and handed you a beer.

 You greedily drank, thirsty from the smoke and eager to unwind your nerves after Sami’s taunts.

 Rami watched you drink and smiled at you over the lip of his bottle in an identical grin to his brother’s earlier teasing smirk.

 “Easy, killer.”

 Swallowing, you reminded him, “This is still my night to let loose, right?”

 Rami pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bobbed his head in a slow nod, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t read.

The band started up again, actually playing three more songs so you got to bask in a silent satisfaction that Sami had been wrong about one thing. As the band bid goodnight, you were wired.

 The set had been incredible, and you wanted to say so to Rami, but he was already nodding his head toward the exit. As you navigated through the crowd, you grabbed on to the edge of his flannel. It was last call, and as you passed by the bar, it was almost too crowded to toss your empty bottles on to.

 When you were finally outside, you couldn’t stop babbling to Rami about how great the music was, even though your ears were severely ringing. He punctuated your excitement with several toldja sos, his eyes watching the crowd for Sami.

 “I just love this feeling, ya know?” you exclaimed, bouncing on your toes and taking a cigarette when Rami offered.

 “Imagine how it feels for them—the performers.”

 You looked at Rami through the haze of his exhaling smoke and your eyes danced over his familiar, yet altogether new face. How could you have never seen just how attractive he was?

 “Rami. I . . .” you dropped your gaze and flicked your cigarette nervously, wondering if you should just confess like Sami told you to do.

 “Wanna thank me for draggin’ you out on a school night? Making sure you had a great time? Being the perfect friend? I assure you, all this I know,” Rami finished with a smug look, his round cheeks hollowing as he pulled on his cigarette.  

 “That’s just it. Are we . . . friends? I mean,” you floundered for a moment, your eyes landing anywhere but on his. “Don’t you just hang with me because you miss Scott?”

 Rami laughed.

 “Are you for real? In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like your fuckin’ brother.”  

 Your eyes landed on Rami’s just in time to catch the way they dragged over your body, top-knots to toes and back again.

 “You like the way I look?” you asked, your voice so low you almost couldn’t hear it over the ringing in your ears.

 Flicking your cigarette to the ground, you stepped toward Rami, wetting your suddenly dry lips.

 “Yeah. Thought that was obvious,” he said, his eyes half-lidded but still commanding as his blue-grey irises darkened when his pupils grew just a bit wider.

 “Not to me,” you answered, shaking your head slightly as Rami’s hands came up to your waist, his ring and pinky fingers settling against your bare skin.

 His eyes were almost shut. Your faces moved closer and Rami’s tilted slightly to the right—

 “Ready to go?” Sami asked, jangling the car keys obnoxiously next to your ears, startling you and Rami apart.

 “Jesus Sam you fucking cocksucker,” Rami cursed, running a hand through his curly hair as he glared at his brother.

 “Not interrupting, am I? Because there’s nothing to interrupt, right?” he questioned you with an arrogant lilt.  

 “Nope! Nothing at all!” you shot over your shoulder as you stalked off in the direction of the car.

 The boys quickly followed, and Sami snickered, catching you and slinging his arm around your shoulders.

 “Have a good night, Y/N?”

 “For the most part,” you grumbled.

 Sami released you and you fell into step next to Rami.

 His hands were buried in the pockets of his jeans and he kept his eyes to the ground as you walked. You kept checking your peripheral to see if he was looking at you, but he wasn’t.

 The drive back was relatively quiet, Sami turning up the radio to drown out the ringing in his own ears. As you leaned back in the seat and watched the blurry skyline, Sex and Candy came on the radio and you tried not to think about Rami as John Wozniak’s deep voice reverberated through the car; you tried not to think about how close you’d come to kissing him and about how badly you didn’t want this night to end before you did.  

Mama this surely is a dream Yeah mama this surely is a dream

 * * * * *

 “Need help with the ladder?” Sami asked as he put the car in park.

 “Nah. We’ll manage,” Rami answered as he got out.

 “Goodnight, shithead. Thank you for driving,” you snapped before you opened your door.

 “Better kiss him goodnight before Stacy does,” Sami said, looking at you in the rearview, puckering his lips so he could make a loud smooching noise.

 “Stacy doesn’t live on my roof!”

 “You ne-ever knooow,” he sang.

 “Oh my god,” you said, smiling in spite of wanting to slap him.

 Sami cackled as you opened the door, his lighter hissing as he lit another cigarette.

 “I hate your brother,” you muttered on the walk back to your house.

 “What did he say?”

 “It’s not the what. It’s the way. Like he knows every fucking thing there is to know in the world.”

 “Well . . . usually he does.”

 “I know,” you sighed in defeat. “So can I hate him for that?”

 “Absolutely,” Rami chuckled.

 The streetlamps lit your way, but once you reached the edge of your lawn, Rami made sure you stayed on the perimeter of the dusk-to-dawn light. He wedged the ladder out from behind the roses, then set it up, stepping on the bottom rung to make sure it was steady.

 “Go ahead. I’ll follow to make sure you can get your window open.”

 Climbing steadily, you had to stifle a laugh thinking about how often your brother had done this, and done it stinking drunk. The effect of the two beers you had drank were long gone, but the thrill of what you were about to get away with still hummed beneath the surface of your skin.

 That . . . and Rami’s presence.

 As he stood up when he stepped off the ladder, your eyes locked and sent a fresh wave of butterflies to assault your stomach. Clearing your throat, you shuffled to your window. Rami followed, slowly and quietly working it open. As you waited, you were overwhelmed by the scent of him—the remnants of the bar, his fading cologne, the shampoo he used in his hair—all of it swirled together into something that was more intoxicating than a hundred beers.

You ducked into your room as soon as the window was open, and the sleeve of Rami’s shirt brushed against your arm as he helped you, his fingers featherlight on your shoulder before trailing down to the exposed skin of your lower back as you moved away.

 You kicked your discarded pajamas from earlier toward the gap at the bottom of your bedroom door, made sure it was locked, then flicked on the light in your closet, pulling the door mostly shut so there was just enough brightness to see Rami as he stood in front of your window, hands back in his pockets as he crossed and uncrossed his feet while leaning against the window sill.

 “Thanks for tonight,” you whispered, closing the distance and letting the last energy of the band spur you on to make your move.

 “Yeah. Of course,” Rami murmured, his eyes finally meeting yours.

 You were so close now, all one of you had to do was lean into the other’s lips, and somehow, you just knew it had to be you.

 Your hands shaking slightly, you rested them on the top of his chest, the smooth fabric of his black long sleeve shirt warm under your touch.

He shuffled, awkwardly pulling his hands from his pockets so he could rest them on your waist, his fingers nervously ticking over the skin on your lower back.

 You glanced from his lips to eyes, and when your eyes flicked back to his lips, he sucked in a breath.

 Then, you kissed him.

 He was stiff and uncertain at first, but as you leaned into him, your body flush with his, he relaxed, opening to exhale as he kissed you back, his tongue the first to swipe over your lips. You opened for him and when your tongues twined, it was electric—a culmination of everything that had been building between the two of you.

 Moaning into his mouth, you grabbed the sides of his flannel and pulled him toward your bed, backing up until your legs hit against the mattress. You broke free from the kiss with a smacking sound before you pulled Rami on top of you.

 You both silently giggled as he settled between your legs, his weight heavy, warm, and so fucking welcome on top of you.

 Rami’s lips pressed into yours again, and soon you were exploring each other’s mouths with fervor. One of your hands had snaked around his torso while the other was thrust into his thick curls, urging his mouth to keep moving against yours.

 He held himself up with one arm, but his other hand was roaming—sliding under your shirt to clutch at the soft skin of your side, then moving up to cup your breast over your bra.

 With a sighing moan, you wrapped your legs around his waist and slid your own hands under his shirt to clutch at his hot skin. You rubbed across his abdomen and over his chest before moving around to lightly scratch across his back.

 Only when you felt the hardness underneath his jeans grinding into your crotch did you regain some semblance of what the hell you were doing.

 With one final buck of your hips that drew an obscene, entirely too loud moan from the back of Rami’s throat, you gently pushed him away.

 Both of you were panting, swiping at your mouths to clear away the excess saliva.

 Rami sat back and slid off your bed, adjusting himself as he stood.

 “Holy shit,” he breathed.

 “I think we better say goodnight,” you said as you scrambled up.

 Rami moved back to your open window and turned before he ducked out.

 “Goodnight,” he said with a megawatt grin that lit up his entire face.

 “Goodnight,” you said, your face split into the same grin.

 He leaned in and sweetly kissed the smile from your face.

 Your eyes had only just barely opened again, and he was on the roof, ducking down to whisper, “See you at school,” his face lit by that grin again as you watched him shuffle to the edge of the roof and down the ladder.

 When the top of the ladder disappeared, you shut your window then dove onto your bed and gurgled with excitement into your pillow.

 Senior year was definitely going to be a year to remember.

[lesbian-deadpool]

"Soulmates”

Part Three Of Three: The Truth Of The Matter

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1,825

Warnings: Angst. Death. Canon Endgame. I’m so sorry.

Request: For the anon who donated to the Australian Bushfires, who wanted angst. Well, you got it, buddy.

Summary: She loved you. Always.

A/N: Again, thanks to @missmonsters2 for helping me out with this idea.’ It’s shorter than the others. I know. But I tried my best lol.

(Not my GIF)

***

Your eyes fluttered open, showing you the bright blue sky of Wakanda above you, the treetops a beautiful green against the warm sun. Birds were chirping, bringing peace to your otherwise fuzzy body.

You were disorientated. That much was for sure. But you were forgetting something. Something important. You just knew you were. But what was it?

Leaves rustling and twigs shaping in half brought your attention to behind you. Moving your still laying head to peer above you, you saw a disgruntled looking Bucky, his hair matted with the battle that you had just lost.

Lost.

You had lost.

As Bucky whispered for Steve, you sat up, chest heaving.

Where the hell was Natasha?

Your eyes were wild as you looked around for her. Finding T’challa, a crouching Wanda, your eyes snapping to Sam rushing out from the trees. Along with the countless other Wakanda soldiers scattered around.

“Natasha?!” you yelled, fingers weaving through leaves, twigs, and dirt. Anything to hold you onto reality.

Where the fuck was everyone?

Hastily, you moved to stand.

“NATASHA?!” you roared. You had to find her. You needed to find her. God. You had to tell her how stupid you were. You had to tell her. You had to tell her.

“She’s not here.”

You looked up to find a strange man wearing a cape, and a goatee that he had looked like he had stolen from Tony, standing before you.

“Where the fuck is she?” you growled. You didn't know who this man was. But if he knew where Natasha was, you would stop at nothing to find her.

“I don’t know.” You were about to call bullshit when he spoke again. “But we are needed.” That’s when you noticed Peter, three others, and that weird tree dude that Thor had brought along with the raccoon guy, who was also nowhere to be seen, standing behind the cape-wearing Tony Stark wannabe. “It’s been five years. And there's a battle that is in dire need of our assistance.”

“It’s been how long now?”

***

You were looking around everywhere you could for Natasha when you had exited the portal from Wakanda. Because apparently the goatee guy was a wizard Named Stephen Strange, or Doctor Strange as his alias, and could also create portals.

Oh well, you've seen crazier things.

And this might count as one of them.

The compound, the very same one you had left not even a few days ago -in your time- was destroyed. Crumbling down into the crater where most of it had assumedly blown up, parts of the building still smoking and on fire.

You stood, wide-eyed and breathing heavy, looking at Thanos and his large army, along with the people and beings in yours.

Great. So you had to do this shit all over again.

Not even ten minutes break.

Fucking- A!

“Avengers-”

Hey, you knew that voice. Looking to your side you spotted Steve, not even third feet away from you. How you hadn’t noticed him before was beyond you. But then again, you were well-intended on finding Natasha before you could even imagine noticing anyone else.

God, you wished she was alright.

She had to be.

“Assemble.”

You scoffed humouredly to yourself. Well, at least he finally finished his sentence, and after years of you waiting on him. Not even a second later, you were racing off towards Thanos’s incoming army. If it really had been five years. They you were gonna give your all, to make sure that this would well-and-truly be the final battle that the purple titan, and all of his followers, would ever see.

Gasping for air as you glanced around, watching out for any incoming aliens, while you took a much-needed breather, when you spotted someone else you knew.

“Clint?” you asked, almost sceptically because of the man's appearance.

“Y/N?” he asked breathlessly, and you could tell he was so happy to see you.

Shaking your head to regain your thoughts, you remembered what you were originally going to ask the blonde man.

“Where’s Nat?” His jaw ticked and his eyes welled with tears. “Clint?” you asked slowly, but still no reply, “Clint, where’s Nat?”

He looked to the ground below your feet, steadily shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“No.” You took a step back, your gun dropping from your hand and onto the battle-worn ground, as tears begin to well in your own eyes. “No, she can’t- Clint. It- It’s Nat. She’s strong. She’s so strong. She’s a fighter, Clint. She can’t have-”

“Y/N.” Salty tears rolled down his cheeks. “It’s true.”

Your second tear rolled down your face, falling to splatter upon the dirt beside your boots when the fire began to blase within you.

“Why?”

Clint inhaled a deep breath like he was about to tell you exactly what happened to the red-head. But instead, he looked off into the distance, where the battle was still raging, and where the purple titan Thanos stood.

Then it all clicked.

“Him,” you seethed, causing the tattooed man to look your way once again, not that you gave him the same treatment. Your eyes fixated on the giant who thought of himself as a god. “He’s the reason. He’s the reason that Natasha’s dead.”

Finally, you snapped your attention towards Clint. “Right?” you hissed, to which you only received a nod in return.

At Clint’s confirmation, you growled, picking up your gun and racing off into battle, once again. Swearing to deal out as much damage as you could, before you reach Thanos, fully intending for him to pay for all that he has caused. For everything, he has taken away. For Natasha.

***

It felt like you had blinked, and suddenly you were watching Tony Stark die in front of you.

You hadn't blinked. Of course, you hadn't. Blood coating your hands and all the way up your bare forearms, as you panted. The rage within you diminishing with every intake of stale, death-filled air.

Dropping to your knees, squeezing Tony’s shoulder lightly as he took his last breath. You allowed your tears to fall along with the others falling to their knee, finally letting yourself cry for Natasha. And now Tony.

How did life change so much in such a small amount of time? Was it even possible? It had to be. Because it was happening to you right now.

Your heart was slowly tearing into two, you could feel every tiny rip with each ragged gasp of breath, and tear that dropped. Quiet sobs racked through your body, you just couldn’t hold any of it in anymore, not the heartbreak, the hate for all that has happened, the rage you felt for that purple fuck. Noe of it. It was all pouring out of you, like a broken tap, the tears soaking your cheeks a clear indication of that.

Something- Or rather someone, bound into your side. Holding you tightly. Letting tears of their own drip onto your shoulder.

Wanda.

You could tell that much from the dirty hair brushing against your cheek.

You won.

But you, along with others lost so much.

***

“About, ...”

“What about her?”

“She-” A deep sigh, as if to control their emotions. “She found someone else. She’s happy.”

“Right,” you noted, struggling to find any emotions to react to it. “I don’t care.”

“Of course you do, Y/N,” Wanda said, “You loved her. Still do probably. You both believed you were soulmates, or as close as we can get in this world.”

“People are wrong all the time,” you said, never once taking your eyes away from the lake before you, “I know I was. And I was too blind to see what was in front of me, the whole time.”

“She loved you, y’know?” Clint asked, before clarifying who, “Natasha.”

“I do. I know that now.”

There was a long pause, filled only with you watching the ripples glide along the lake, the crunching of leaves and twigs, as people walked away from you, and breathing in the fresh nature air. You still weren't used to it, from all of the smoke-filled heavy air, from the battle two days prior. It was clean. Too clean for how dull and dirty the world felt to you now.

“She was with me not even three days ago... she lived five years without me- us. But, I had only seen her a few days ago. And now she’s gone,” you were in a daze as you spoke. You didn't even know who you were speaking to anymore. Or hell, if anyone was still there to hear you.

But the hand that was suddenly placed on your back, rubbing soft circles into it, let you know that you were, in fact, not alone.

Glancing to your side, you saw Wanda. She was one of the people who were the closest to knowing how you felt. How that lost feels. And you could see it in her sad tear-filled eyes, and understanding tight-lipped smile.

“She knows,” she told you, “She knows how you feel about her.”

It may have been stupid. It may have just been your mind. But you felt a strange wave of temporary hope, brightness, warmth. Her. You felt her presence. And you just couldn’t let that go without saying something. No matter how strange, and crazy it may seem.

“You mean everything to me, Nat.”

And with that. The feeling was gone.

***

“Y/N?” You looked over your shoulder to see Stephen Strange, standing not so far behind you. You turned your head to face the lake before you, Stephen taking that as his queue to approach you further, placing a hand on your shoulder. Almost everyone had left long ago, ready to begin living there lives again.

Lucky bastards.

What were you meant to do now?

Suddenly you had an inkling of how Natasha had felt. Even when you had still been around. The sadness that rested against the centre of your chest, making itself a home there. One that you knew you would have an extremely hard time getting it to leave.

“I saw fourteen-million-six-hundred and five different futures-” he informed you.

“I know. And we only won one.”

“Yes. We did.” He nodded solemnly, eyes moving to the side so that he could look at you, while still facing the lake with you. “But, she loved you in every one of them.”

With a pat to your shoulder, he left you alone.

Tears blurred your vision, sobs pounding against your chest, begging to be let out, but you held them in. You vaguely saw the dirt ground, green patches of what you assumed to be grass, along with a multitude of different browns, probably sticks, and other woodland objects, as your head moved on its own accord, to face the floor.

Your voice wavered as you spoke, threatening to crack with the pressure of your emotions.

“So did I.”

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