#what took forever was cleaning it off the countertops

[sayingyournames]

the good news is that my hair looks great, the bad news is i haven’t used this brand of dye in years and i forgot how badly it stains and i have been scrubbing my kitchen for half an hour 😌

[dewwinchester]

next. | d.w.

request: @rustic-guitar-notes: "can u write a little cutesy piece basically about reader and dean living a very normal life and leaving hunting?? like they have a whole house together and sam visits sometimes and it’s all just soft and NORMAL."

synopsis: this is written as a sequel to done, however, it can also be read as a standalone fic.

pairing: dean winchester x female!reader

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: fluff - she/her pronouns used - no use of 'y/n' - a smidge of angst if you squint - a surprise Sam appearance - Eileen mention! - pet names used (sweetheart)

a/n: this took me FOREVER i'm so sorry!! but I hope this makes up for it <3333 (also eileen is blurry wife confirmed by me)

Why did cooking have to be so difficult?

The instructions stared up at you from your phone screen, mocking your efforts. You had no trouble following directions and were confident you had done everything perfectly. Yet, your kitchen was beginning to fill with smoke, and the burger patties on the stove—the patties you had spent hours putting together—were starting to fall apart and burn.

There was stuff everywhere. Herbs were all over the counter, white flour-handprints covered your shirt, and you were certain some of it was in your hair. Flecks of ground beef were on your tiled walls and floor (which, thankfully, your dog Miracle cleaned up right away). Salad ingredients littered your bench space, leaving you little to no room to move.

You were beginning to feel claustrophobic. This kitchen was a lot smaller than the one you were used to.

You were accustomed to the bunker, with its vast countertop space, where anything you needed was within arm's reach and easily spotted. Currently, what little kitchenware you had was hidden behind cabinet doors, and you were still getting used to the setup.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt your heart rate begin to accelerate. You felt stupid. All you wanted to do was make a nice meal, and cooking was simply reading and following instructions—why couldn't you just do that?

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a shrill beeping rang through your house.

The smoke alarm.

Panicked, you fumbled to turn off the stove and wave away the smoke, desperately trying to silence the alarm before one of your nosy neighbours came knocking at the door. When the beeping finally stopped, you returned to the stove, sighing at the blackened mess that was left.

It didn't look too bad. You were sure that you could fix it simply by scraping off the burnt bits; no one would even know just how badly you messed everything up.

You decided to turn your attention to something that only an idiot could mess up—chopping. You were once quite skilled with a blade—a year ago you would have been using it for something entirely different, like chopping off the heads of vampires or other various creatures that went bump in the night. Today, however, you swapped a machete for a chef's knife. Most of your weapons were carefully packed away, with only a few small trinkets and books to remind you of your old life as a hunter.

You sliced lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, being sure to tuck your fingers away and allow the knife to rock against your knuckles, just like the professionals did on television.

You were so focused on perfecting your chopping technique that you barely noticed the sound of keys turning in the lock or the front door swinging open. The sound of footsteps behind you went unnoticed until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Out of pure instinct, you spun around, knife gripped tightly in your hand as a surge of adrenaline washed over you. You raised the blade towards the potential assailant, holding it a breath's distance away from their neck, your knuckles turning white. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears and your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden movement. Your brain was telling you to strike, to move on the enemy before it was too late, but the gentle hand that curled around your wrist caused your defensive stance to falter.

“You gonna stab me, sweetheart?”

"Dean?" you breathed, immediately pulling the knife away from his throat. Your heart was still thundering away, but the buzz of energy in your system had subsided to a gentle hum. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, I thought I would come home early and surprise you," he said, taking the knife from your hand and placing it on the countertop. "I didn't think you were gonna Long-Kiss-Goodnight-me."

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, anxiety and embarrassment quickly replacing the adrenaline. “Old habits…”

Dean took you by the shoulder and pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He placed a firm kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there. You melted into him and snaked your arms around his middle, feeling every worry melt away. He smelled like work: fuel, oil, and metal, and despite washing his hands copious times, there were still motor oil stains on his skin. Normally, the smell would have had you scrunching your nose up and ordering Dean into the shower, but for the first time, you couldn’t find yourself caring.

“How was work?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him. His hair was scruffy, the ends standing up in a hundred different directions. It was longer than Dean usually allowed it to get, but he told you he wanted to “experiment with the length” (you weren’t going to admit that the thought made you ever so slightly giddy).

"Pretty good," he replied, furrowing his brows for a moment as he wiped a patch of flour off your forehead with his thumb. "Some guy brought in an old Mustang. Got to—"

His eyes tore off you, looking towards the mess you left on the stove.

"What the hell—"

"Don't ask," you grumbled.

"What did you—what even—"

"I thought I said don't ask."

Dean picked the frypan up off the stove, inspecting the charred contents, and you felt like shrinking inside yourself. He looked over to the chopped ingredients on the counter before turning back to you.

"Dinner…?"

"I tried," you gave up. "I really did. I thought I would do something nice and surprise you, but apparently, I'm the world's worst cook."

Dean wasn't going to admit it, but you were right. You could make a mean bowl of cereal and a damn good cup of coffee, but when it came to toasting, baking, or frying, it usually ended with someone needing to get the fire extinguisher.

Your face fell into your hands—the tears were back, and you tried your best to hide them, but your shaky breaths immediately alerted Dean.

"Hey," he said with a light chuckle. He pulled you back towards him, one hand on your back, the other holding the back of your head. "It's all good."

"No it's not," you said, voice muffled by Dean's embrace. "I used to be good at something. Now I'm not good at anything."

"What d'you mean?"

"I used to be good at—at hunting. I used to wake up every day knowing exactly what to do and when. Now I can't even make a meal without messing up. At least you're good at something."

Dean nodded, fully understanding. It had been roughly six months since your last hunt, since you'd both hung up your hats and said goodbye to the life forever.

Surprisingly enough, Dean settled into your new life faster than you both had thought. He had gotten the mechanic job right off the bat and quickly fell into a routine. It was good for him. He had something to look forward to every day. He had new skills that he was able to put to use.

You, on the other hand, were finding things a little more difficult. You had no experience doing anything, making finding a job damn near impossible. You found yourself itching to check for the latest missing persons case or some kind of sign of the next apocalypse. You busied yourself by walking the dog, by cleaning the little house you rented in Kansas, by reading dozens of books.

Dean never pushed you. Instead, he let you adjust at your own pace.

Sure, there were still nights where one of you would wake up from a nightmare a sobbing, shaky mess, where visions of blood, death, and monsters flashed behind your eyelids. But you were always there for each other with comforting touches and words—you were each other's beacons of light when things began to grow dark again.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, hands moving to your shoulders. “You are gonna head out, grab a pizza from down the street. I am gonna stay here and tidy up.”

“But—”

“Then,” he continued, “We’re gonna settle in for the night. Couch. Beer. Movie.”

“Fine,” you sighed, a smile creeping back onto your lips.

Your car smelled like pizza as you pulled into the little cul-de-sac where your house was. Three boxes sat on your passenger seat, and you had to refrain from reaching over and snagging a piece before getting home. Dean would have your head if you started without him.

You passed several houses on your block that looked somewhat similar to your own before your little house came into view. It was smaller than the others, but it made up for it with a massive front and back yard. It had a brown roof, beige-yellow walls, and a wooden door. For most people, it wasn’t much to look at—many of the people who inspected it had turned their noses up and laughed at it.

It wasn’t much, but it was home.

Upon pulling into the driveway, you noticed another car parked on the side of the road up ahead. The sight of it brought a wide smile to your face.

Sam.

It had been days since you last saw him. After spending all day every day in the Winchesters’ pockets, you had felt strange not seeing Sam constantly. After everything, Sam had become one of your closest and dearest friends—he was like an older brother to you. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him. You could talk to each other freely without judgment—he just got you.

You quickly parked your car, grabbed the pizza boxes, and headed inside.

You could hear Sam and Dean before seeing them. After years of hunting, stakeouts, and sneaking around, you were surprised the brothers weren't a little more subtle. Six months ago, you would have assumed they were arguing about something, but as you approached the front door, you actually heard them laugh.

You pushed the door open and headed inside, immediately greeted by Miracle. He sniffed around your feet and tried his best to investigate the pizza boxes in your hand, his tail wagging profusely. Dean took the pizza boxes from your hands, shot you a wink, and took them into the kitchen. Miracle quickly turned his attention away from you and followed the smell of the pizza. Traitor.

"Hey, stranger," Sam said, standing at the end of the entryway, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

You threw your keys on the small bench near the front door and practically ran over to Sam, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him.

"This is a nice surprise! Long time no see," you said, pulling back to take a look at him. He looked well-rested—happy—and there was a glint in his eye that you couldn't quite put your finger on. "How's Eileen?"

"Good," he lowered his head, the look in his eye now spreading to the rest of his face. A smile crept across his lips, the kind that had your brows furrowing in interest. "Yeah, she's real good."

You made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Pizza's gettin' cold!" Dean called, which caused you and Sam to roll your eyes in unison.

After indulging in five slices of pizza and three beers, you were completely stuffed. The boys had spent at least forty-five minutes arguing over which movie to watch, so the film—which should have ended by now—had only just started playing on your TV. You teetered on the edge of post-meal drowsiness, your eyes drooping. You fought hard against it; you wanted to stay awake and catch up with Sam, to hear more about how domestic life was finally treating him.

You felt content in your surroundings, and the knowledge that both your boys were here safe made you feel warm. The couch beneath you was soft, and with your head resting in Dean's lap, you felt even more comfortable. His thumb rubbed against your shoulder in small circles, and the rhythm of his touch eventually sent you off to sleep entirely. You had lost the fight.

“She asleep?” Sam asked in a whisper, gesturing with a nod towards you.

Dean shifted ever so slightly and cast his eyes down to you before nodding. "She wouldn't stop askin' me to invite you over. Thought the surprise would keep her buzzed for hours."

Sam chuckled, "Y'know, she can invite me over whenever she wants?"

"Man, if she had it her way, you'd never leave."

Sam smiled, and the two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until his eyes grew concerned. He sat forward and grabbed the TV remote, turning down the volume until the film playing was barely audible.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

Dean shrugged, "Can't tell. Sometimes she seems okay. Then… I don't know…"

"What do you mean?"

"Came home today and found her in the kitchen. She was freaking out about dinner—"

"She's never been the best cook."

"I know," Dean said, "but she started tellin' me she wasn't good at anythin' anymore."

Sam's brows furrowed, "It'll take her some time to adjust. I mean, we aren’t exactly the best examples of settling into the real world."

“I keep tellin’ her that, but I don’t think she believes me.”

At that moment, Sam wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. He wanted to tell you about the several times he’d attempted a normal life and failed, how the hunting life had an iron-grip hold on him for years until he finally felt the time was right to cut free. But he decided to leave it for another time. You looked too peaceful.

But he knew that you would be fine. You always were. Aside from his brother, you were one of the strongest people Sam knew.

"How're things going with you and Eileen?" Dean asked. "Honeymoon phase over yet?"

A smile tugged on Sam's lips, "Yeah… I uh—I guess it kinda is."

"Dude, already? What did you do?"

"Nothing," Sam defended. "We've just found a routine. Settled in…"

"And…?"

Sam's hands swiped down his face as he sat back on the couch with a huff. His foot bounced against the floor, his eyes drifting from his brother to you and then back again.

"I wanted to tell you guys together."

Confusion flashed across Dean’s face as he sat up, careful not to jostle you around too much. “Wanted to tell us what?”

Sam let out a breath, “Eileen’s pregnant.”

Silence fell over the lounge room—the only sound being that of the soft dialogue coming from the television. The confusion on Dean’s face slowly morphed into shock, then confusion again, before a grin broke out.

“Are you serious?”

Sam nodded.

“You’re—you’re serious?”

Sam chuckled, nodding again.

There was something about it that Dean couldn’t believe. His brother—his baby brother—was having his own baby. It felt like just yesterday that he was picking him up from Stanford. The man next to him was no longer that college kid; he was starting his own family.

The thought made Dean look down at you. He wondered what it would be like to do all of that with you. Sure, the two of you had spoken about it here and there—marriage, family, the whole nine—but it never really went any further than that.

Dean’s brows furrowed as he looked up from you and back to his brother.

“She’s gonna kill you if she finds out she missed this.”

Sam laughed quietly, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “Well then, how ‘bout I stay the night? I’ll tell you guys in the morning… Just—try to act surprised. For our sake.”

“Deal.”

[hxneyhxrts]

Switzerland || James “Bucky” Barnes

warning: smut, unprotected sex, impact play (rough), explicit language, degradation, maybe dacryphilia

“Give me a fucking break, Y/N,” Bucky groaned.

Two hours.

They had been bickering for two hours.

It had started with a mission. A quick rendezvous for some data Sam had requested from a sister agency overseas. Y/N had figured it might be nice to get out and travel a bit.

Wrong.

“Give you a break? James, we are in Sweden! Sweden. The rendezvous was supposed to be in Switzerland. I mean, you have to understand why this is frustrating!”

“I messed up! Would you relax?”

Bucky slid the keycard into their hotel door, shouldering his way in. It was a last minute booking, since they hadn’t meant to be here in the first place. Thanks to James.

Bucky cursed under his breath, and Y/N peeked over his shoulder to see what was wrong.

Sick.

“Oh great. You booked a room with one bed. Awesome,” Y/N snarked. She shook her head in disappointment. “You know, I should’ve probably taken over booking and planning when you landed us in the wrong fucking country, but it seems I haven’t learned my lesson yet.”

“Would you just fucking drop it? I said I was sorry!” Bucky bit out.

Y/N scowled. “Sorry doesn’t fix the fact that we’re in fucking Sweden, James. Someone has to explain this to-”

“Stop calling me that.”

She paused mid-sentence. “Calling you what?”

Bucky heaved a sigh. “James. You can be mad at me, but please just… stop calling me that. You never call me that.”

All the fight left her then. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of quiet to calm down.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Don’t wait up.”

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

The hot water did little to relax Y/N’s nerves, but she was clean. And if she took an extra 15 minutes to just stand there and enjoy the quiet, well that was her business.

But she couldn’t stay there forever. She knew a fight sat unfinished on the other side of the door, and the longer she stayed in the quiet of the bathroom, the longer she pushed off a resolution.

So with a sigh, she pushed back the shower curtain and fumbled for her towel. She spent much longer than necessary drying off, avoiding the inevitable while she could.

Once her skin was thoroughly dry (and beginning to pink in the spots she had rubbed too much), she gave in to the gnawing in her stomach. She reached for her pajamas with a sigh, mentally going over how to diffuse the fight that waited for her.

Her hand met the empty countertop.

Y/N’s brows furrowed. She spun around, surveying the bathroom for her clothes.

Nothing.

Because this was supposed to be a day trip.

You don’t pack pajamas for a day trip.

Y/N wanted to scream. Because of course this would be happening. Her shit show day had reached its dirty grimy claws into the evening.

Her annoyance reared its head again, and she had to keep herself from storming out and shouting at Bucky once more for getting them in this predicament.

But she bit her tongue, and cracked the door just a sliver. “Bucky?”

Shuffling. Then, “Yeah?”

Her cheeks were already burning from embarrassment. “I didn’t bring pajamas. Do you mind calling down to the front desk and asking for a robe or something?”

“Y/N, it’s like nine o’clock. The receptionist has probably gone home by now.”

Her irritation flared. “Can you just check? The only other option is putting on the clothes I wore today and they’re filthy.”

She heard an annoyed curse and more movement. Then a metal hand was sliding in the gap in the door, a t-shirt hanging from its fingers.

“Here,” came a grunt through the wood.

A flush crept down Y/N’s chest. “I don’t-”

“Would you stop fucking arguing for once, and just take it?”

“I still don’t have any pants!”

“It’s a long shirt, you won’t need them! Just put it on and fucking relax.”

The sheer command in his voice would have been enough to make her listen, nevermind the fact that Bucky had always had her wrapped around his finger. So with a huff that sounded more pathetic than grumpy, she snatched the shirt and slammed the door.

The shirt was quintessential Bucky. Plain, dark, simple. It hung just past her hips, a bit too short to be considered decent.

“I knew it,” she growled. But there was no use in pouting about it now. It was clean and comfortable (and warm).

It took every ounce of security (and maybe insanity) to open the door and walk out. She refused to look at Bucky, but she could still feel his eyes like a physical weight on her body. After several rather awkward seconds, he cleared his throat.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. So either you make yourself cozy down there, or we’re splitting the bed.”

Not even two minutes in, and he had found her last nerve. Found it, poked at it, sank his teeth into it, shredded it. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Well I guess that settles it.”

What a shit day.

With a pout, Y/N pushed her way under the duvet, taking notice of how small the bed seemed to feel with Bucky in it. Her thigh brushed his and she bit back her gasp.

“Are you wearing pants?”

“No. Neither are you. Leave me alone and go to sleep.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and curled under the blankets. She had almost dozed off when a sharp tug on the covers disrupted her. “Do you mind?”

“You’re hogging all the blankets. Do you mind?” Bucky hissed.

And just to piss him off more, Y/N yanked the blankets enough to leave him exposed to the chill in the air.

“Are you serious? What are you, 5?”

“Do we really want to start talking about ages, you old fuck?”

Bucky groaned and reached for the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. “Fine. Whatever. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The peace in the room settled and remained for maybe five minutes.

Until…

“Would you stop pouting?”

Y/N threw her hands up incredulously. “I’m not pouting!”

“Yes. You are.”

“How would you even know?”

“I can just tell. It’s irritating me. Now stop,” Bucky spat.

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N’s not sure how it happened, or what set it off exactly. But Bucky had gripped the back of her neck and pulled her face to hover above his too quickly for her to prepare, her hands falling to his chest to balance herself. Bucky’s fingers dug into the nape of her neck with a bruising grip, and he soon brought his metal ones up to grab her jaw.

“Enough,” he growled.

With her head caged between his hands, she had no room to move, let alone reply. It wasn’t necessary though, as Bucky pushed through, his tone turning razor sharp.

“Enough with the pouting. Enough with the disobedience. Enough with the smart ass comments. Enough with calling me ‘James’. Enough. I’ve had enough. You can’t seem to help yourself from being a pain in my ass. I’m over it. Everyone else wants to kiss your ass, I’m not gonna do that. I want-”

He stopped. His teeth bared and gritted.

So it came as a shock when his lips crashed into hers with a force so staggering, she would’ve fell back if not for his hands holding her in place.

The kiss was urgent. Desperate. It was teeth, and tongues, and lips, and spit, and lust. Y/N struggled to catch her breath, but feared breaking away to break whatever spell had fallen over them.

“Such a fucking waste,” Bucky groaned. “A mouth like this, and all you do is pout and whine with it.”

The hand on the back of her neck slid up to her hair, and with a yank he had her throat bared where he sat up to meet it. His teeth nipped at her neck, roughly biting at the skin there. Y/N threw her head back in ecstasy, biting back a moan that threatened to slip.

A warm trickle slid down her neck.

Y/N pushed Bucky off by the shoulders, her hands flying to her neck. “Am I-” she stuttered. “Am I bleeding?”

“That should be the least of your worries right now.”

And before she could protest, he had pinned her on her back. “I am going to fuck you hard enough that you feel me every time you sit down. Every time you mouth off. Every time you touch yourself,” he continued, kissing a trail down her stomach. “I am going to ruin you.”

That didn’t sound so terrible.

The moment Bucky put his mouth on her, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. This had to be some sort of punishment. To be laid out in front of someone she despised and fall apart like this. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, small gasps managing to escape.

“You can do better than that,” Bucky urged.

And yes. She could. When his tongue did a particularly sinful circle around her clit, the whine that left her cut through the air loud enough that she briefly thought of whoever might be in the room next door. But when Bucky repeated the action, drawing another series of whimpers from her, she found she didn’t care.

A groan sounded, and the vibrations from it rang through her core. “Just like that,” Bucky gasped.

His mouth returned with a vengeance, licking and sucking at her like a man starved. She couldn’t have held her mewls and whimpers to herself if she tried, embarrassment be damned.

“Please,” she gasped. “I’m gonna-”

“No.”

Bucky pulled back at once, and her core throbbed at the loss of contact. Y/N sat up on her elbows, poised to protest.

“There’s that pout again.”

And yes, she was pouting.

But who could blame her?

“If I see that pout again, I’m knocking it off your fucking face.”

She immediately sobered and set her mouth straight.

Bucky smiled. “Good girl.”

Fuck.

Y/N keened high in her throat, the sound leaving without her intending it to. A flush crept up her cheeks.

Bucky’s grin looked like it might split his cheeks.

“Oh?” he teased. “Did you like that?”

His hands snaked up her waist, pushing his shirt higher on her torso, inches of skin creeping out bit by bit. His fingers, both flesh and metal burned her skin as they trailed up her sides. She gasped as his hands finally cupped her breasts.

“You like being told how good you are? You like being my good girl?”

Y/N whined, her hands moving to grab at Bucky’s wrists. Something to anchor her, she supposed.

Or just an excuse to touch him.

“You want me to tell you how pretty you look like this? Spread out and whining for me? Wearing my shirt?”

It was becoming too much: the way his hands grabbed at her skin, the way his breath fanned over her face, the words he was speaking.

“Please,” she begged.

“Use your words.”

“Fuck, please,” she tried. “I need you.”

Bucky smirked. “Where? Where do you need me?”

This was torture. She had seen the worst of humanity. She had fought the worst of humanity. But this was pure, unadulterated punishment.

And she loved it.

“Please,” she rasped.

Bucky chuckled, a sound that raked down her nerves. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He plunged two metal fingers deep in her core, the cold biting into the lining of her walls. It stung, but it was wonderful.

“God,” Y/N gasped, a newfound sense of euphoria washing over her.

“You feel so soft,” Bucky rasped, kissing the space between her breasts with a tenderness that was unlike him.

It was too much. The cool steel of his fingers stung and her whimpering was fueled by the way they curled inside her.

“I knew you’d like this,” Bucky rasped. His hand pushed harder, deeper, until he was stroking just out of reach of where she really wanted him. “I always thought you’d be responsive, but this…” Another kiss. “This is better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Bucky,” Y/N moaned.

He paused. His lips hovered just above her nipple and his fingers stilled inside her. “Fuck, say it again.”

And so she did.

“Bucky.”

“Fuck, good girl,” he groaned, plunging back in with a renewed vigor. “You’re getting me all wet, baby. Look how pretty you look taking my fingers. Already whining, and I’ve barely touched you.” He dove in for her mouth this time, lips borderline bruising. He spoke against her mouth in a tone that sent heat rushing through her. “I can’t wait to see what you do with my cock in you.”

“I’m gonna-”

“No you’re not,” he growled, pulling his fingers away. Y/N groaned, but was cut short by a hand at her throat.

“Enough. Whining. I won’t tell you again,” Bucky hissed.

He tightened his grip around her throat, and her vision immediately blurred. Bucky smirked. “Good.”

Then he was inspecting his fingers, watching the way her essence dripped down the metal of his hand. Another groan.

“Open,” he commanded. Y/N’s lips parted, her tongue darting out eagerly. Bucky slid two metal fingers into her waiting mouth, pushing them back far enough to brush the back of her throat. Her eyes watered as she gagged, but she kept her mouth open all the same.

“So pretty.”

It was intoxicating, the taste of herself on the tang of metal, and she greedily lapped at his digits while he thrusted them past her lips. She had just started to lose herself when he pulled his fingers away.

His now spit-slick metal hand dug into the flesh on her ass when he had managed to (easily) manhandle her onto her front, leaving her gasping into the pillow at the sting. Her scorching flesh burned hotter against the cool brush of vibranium. Y/N’s entire body was on fire, made worse by the intensity and heat of Bucky’s gaze sliding over her skin. She was still lost in that feeling when she jumped against the sheets with a whimper, Bucky’s hand soothing over the now sore spot he had left after striking the flesh underneath.

“That one was for snapping at me all day,” he taunted, a smirk evident in his voice as he raised his hand again. Y/N braced herself for the strike, but still cried out when it landed. “And that, is for calling me ‘James’,” he growled out.

She was panting, breath ragged and sharp in her lungs. “You-” she gasped out as his fingers drew lazy circles over the marks he had left on her ass. “You can’t-”

“I can,” he hissed, wrenching her head back by her hair. “And you’re going to take everything I give you.”

Any sane person would’ve refused. Kicked him off of them with a snide comment and gone to bed, maybe even pretending this never happened to salvage any scrap of dignity left after everything that had happened.

“Got it?” Bucky growled with another tug to her hair.

“Yes, sir,” she groaned back.

The older man sighed contentedly, releasing his grip on her hair and dragging both hands down her spine slowly. “I think you’ve had enough spanking for now.”

A small surge of something close to panic roared through her, panic at losing this feeling, and the sting she could still feel on her ass.

“No!” Y/N gasped out before she could stop herself, too far gone to feel the bite of embarrassment at her words. Bucky’s hands stilled on her hips, and his fingers flexed against her skin.

“No?”

“Please,” she nearly whispered. “Please keep going.”

Silence hung, low and heavy around them for several moments. Had it not been for the weight of his hands still on her, Y/N would’ve thought he left.

Then, a groan, low and guttural, like the sound was being punched out of him. Bucky’s hand slid around the front of her neck, the heat of his flesh seeping into her throat. His grip was tight enough to pull her head up, but just barely. Suddenly, his mouth was right next to her ear, tone low and threatening, much like one he used when speaking to their targets.

“This is your last chance to tell me to cool off before I ruin you,” he bit out.

It was as good of a warning as she was gonna get, Y/N knew from their time together on missions, seeing the “Winter Soldier” firsthand. A sick thrill ran through her blood.

“Please,” she insisted.

A resounding ‘smack’ rang through the air as Bucky brought down his other hand against her ass, metal impacting soft skin. Y/N arched back against him, simultaneously running from and chasing the feeling.

More smacks followed, each one worse than the last. Her resolve was crumbling beneath her with each blow. Sensing her drop, Bucky smoothed both hands over her abused cheeks with a smirk.

“What happened to begging? Hm?” he taunted, digging his fingers into her already bruising skin just to see her hiss and try to pull away.

“Please,” she slurred against the pillow.

Bucky laughed, a mean and cruel sound. “Is that all you know how to say now? Have I already fucked you that stupid? I’ve barely touched you sweet girl.”

Y/N’s head was reeling, an emotional whiplash pounding at her temples as he mocked her and soothed the bite all in one breath.

“I need you inside me. Need to feel you,” she whimpered out, writhing as his hands pressed her further into the mattress.

Bucky muttered a sharp ‘fuck’ under his breath, before recomposing himself. She could hear the shuffle of him ridding himself of his pants, and she held her breath when she felt the rigid line of him press against her already sore ass.

Y/N keened high in her throat and pressed her hips back into his harder. Bucky pulled back just barely, teasing her.

“You sure about this?”

And maybe it was the gentle note of sincerity staining his voice that made her head swim, but Y/N found her breath catching once again.

“Please,” she insisted again.

And then Bucky was pressing into her slowly, inch by torturous inch, until he was seated all the way to the hilt with a strangled moan. Words failed Y/N as she felt the head of his cock pressing into the deepest and most intimate part of her, already leaving her aching in his wake.

Bucky dug his fingers into her flesh, pulling her back against him to sink into her even further. It was overwhelming, the way he filled every space within her, leaving her no room to even breathe. He was unlike any other partner she had ever had, and Y/N had the sick feeling she may never be satisfied with anyone else. She wrapped her fingers around the smooth metal of Bucky’s wrist, dragging his hand up to settle around her throat once more. The older man’s grip stayed loose where it rested against the skin of her neck as he let out a shallow breath.

“Don’t,” he panted. “Don’t do that. I don’t think I can be gentle with you if we start that.”

It was sick, so sick, the thrill that thrummed through her veins at the thought of Bucky, the Winter Soldier, stringing her out and using her body in that brutal way that only he could.

It was that same thrill (and slight mania) that sent her over the edge of insanity (and stupidity).

“Is that so?,” she gritted out with as much teasing in her voice as she could. She felt him tense behind her, deadly quiet and still as he waited for her to continue. “Or are you just worried you won’t have enough bite to match your bark?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Bucky’s fingers tightened around her throat to the point of it being painful, her breathing slowing to almost a stand still. His hot breath ran across her ears as he leaned in to whisper, “I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this.”

The pace he set was immediately brutal, leaving no time for her to adjust to the sheer size and force of him. The sharp curve of hip bones dug into her ass almost painfully with every thrust as he filled her to the hilt. Words failed her completely, nothing but wanton moans stuttering out between her ragged breathing. Normally, she’d have the sense to be embarrassed about her volume altogether, but this was not the same run-of-the-mill hookups she was used to. This was untamed and raw and torturous.

Another moan slipped between her rough-bitten lips, and then Bucky was slipping his grip up to her chin and cheeks to grab her face hard and turn her head painfully to meet his wild eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pushing her face away again before dropping his hand against the flesh of her bottom once again, leaving a sting in its wake.

His manhandling only made that pit in her stomach worse, and Y/N clenched her jaw to stifle the whimpers free flowing from her mouth. It only seemed to spur the soldier behind her even more.

His cock was dragging against her walls sinfully, and she wondered if she had ever felt this full before. Or if she’d ever feel this full again.

“You want everyone in this goddamn hotel to hear you?” Bucky ground out when yet another pathetic sound escaped her. He pulled his hips back just enough to slip out of her before yanking her up by the arm to roll her over onto her back. The intimacy of facing him as he dismantled her piece by piece was overwhelming, and Y/N nearly cowered away from the heat of his stare as it roved over exposed form, but Bucky was quickly slipping his cock back into her and she was keening once again.

Bucky’s hand reared back quickly, and Y/N braced herself for the slap to fall against her ass, but gasped when the strike landed across her cheek. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes at the burn, but the moan that tore from her throat betrayed her arousal at the impact.

The older man towering over her laughed, a full and mocking sound that made her want to simultaneously sink back and chase the cadence of it. His tone was nothing short of taunting when he sneered at her. “You’re getting off on this.”

Her cheeks burned again, this time from shame instead of smacking, and she pulled into herself just barely. It was humiliating to be this vulnerable in front of him, but the thrill of him seeing every dirty part of her and fueling all of it gave her a sick sort of satisfaction.

“You like when I get rough with you, pretty girl? You like it when I treat you like the whore you are?” he crooned, a gentle hand smoothing down her cheek as his thrusts picked up even more. That same hand gripped her cheeks hard enough to make her lips pucker, a smile pulling up at his lips as her pupils blew out. “My little whore. All mine.”

Mine.

Y/N whined, that knot tightening even further. “Please,” she gasped out for what felt like the hundredth time.

Bucky smirked. “Please, what? What is it, baby?”

Any other day, his teasing would’ve earned him a lashing from her, but she only found it more and more enticing now. “I need to cum,” she panted, on the verge of tears. “Please let me cum.”

She could see the effect her begging had on him, his eyes darkening considerably. “I don’t know-”

A choked sob broke from her chest, a single tear rolling down her cheek hotly. It was all too much, and she had the feeling she’d combust if he didn’t grant her relief. “Please,” she begged once again, more desperate now.

“Fuck,” Bucky gritted out between clenched teeth, eyes zeroing in on the path of the tear staining her cheek. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

She could have wept as the wave of euphoria swept over her, pulling her under fast and hard and wracking through her body with an intensity she had never felt before. She clenched around Bucky’s shaft like a vice, and she felt him twitch before he was spilling into her with mutters of “all mine”. His thrusting continued as she rode out her high and even long after it had passed, making her whine at the sensitivity. He only pulled out when she weakly shoved at his shoulder, too overstimulated to take much more.

They were both panting as they stared at each other, and Y/N said a silent thank you to whoever could hear her that Bucky looked just as wrecked as she felt. He pulled away from her quicker than she would have liked and retreated to the bathroom. She heard the faucet turn and on and off before he reemerged with a wet rag. Her face flushed as he nudged her knees open and made to wipe at his seed dripping out of her before she stopped him with a hand to the wrist.

He leveled her with a look that made her toes curl, that same bit of dominance she had seen firsthand creeping into the expression. “I was just inside you, and now you’re trying to keep me from cleaning you up?” Y/N swallowed, still too embarrassed to let him take care of her like this. Bucky scoffed, and his voice turned stern. “Move your hand. Now.”

And even though they were done with whatever had just happened between them, Y/N found herself obeying the order. Her partner took care to clean her up gently before tossing the rag aside in the small pile of dirty linens they had accumulated. He slid into bed next to her, lifting the sheets slightly before pulling her into him with a strong, muscle chorded arm. Silence hung around them for a moment.

“Should we talk about this?” she whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would shatter the calm.

“No,” Bucky replied simply, sinking a stone in her heart before he continued. “You need to rest right now. Talking can wait until you’ve slept.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but Y/N didn’t want to leave things unchecked just because she needed rest (even if sleep was tugging at her eyelids heavily). “Are you sure? Maybe we should-”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, you’re going to sleep,” he insisted, pulling her in tighter and tempting her with his warmth.

She gave in with a playful huff, burrowing into his chest with a private smile. It felt natural, to be with him like this.

But Bucky Barnes always has to ruin her good mood.

“Who knew bossing you around was all it took to get you to shut up.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a laugh crept up her throat. “Don’t get used to it.”

Y/N felt the smile he buried in her hair as he pecked the crown of her head.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

note: i’m not aiming for accuracy, im aiming for a good time

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 5 - Ritual: Jushiro Ukitake x Female Reader

Requested by @destery.

Summary: You're officially a home owner! Maybe the home isn't in your ideal place, and maybe it required more fixing up than you wanted, but it's yours! But... why do random medicinal items appear whenever you touch yourself?

TW: MDNI! Use of sex toys, alcohol consumption mention, sexual frustration, spiritual voyeurism.

Word count: 2468

Read on AO3 here.

You let out a sigh of relief after the final coat of paint was left to dry on your newly redesigned living room. You had saved every bit of your money into buying a home for yourself, and sadly, with the economy in shambles, you found yourself looking at abandoned homes that required more elbow grease than anything.

But you were proud of yourself, this was your home! A home you could see yourself living in forever. You had redone some of the sliding paper doors, the light fixtures, cabinets and so forth. This was now the home of your dreams.

Yet, a small part of you doubted you were completely alone.

Your real estate agent disclosed that the home wasn’t occupied in over a hundred years, hence the sad state it was left in, but you were determined to transform it into something worth living in.

And now you got to enjoy the fruits of your labour! After all the sweat, tears (and fistfuls of cash), you deserved to treat yourself to a wonderful bath, in your newly renovated bathroom. You had a new tub and shower fixtures in place and were going to make full use of them.

You closed your eyes, humming to the song playing in the distance as your warm bath soothed your aching body. You treated yourself to some relaxing candles and aromatherapy to ease your joints. You could now enjoy your bath in peace, no roommates banging on your door, no family to scold you over your hot water use.

This was perfect.

You took your time relaxing, enjoying every moment of it. You bit your lip and gently squeezed your breasts, rubbing your thighs under the water. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid you thought. Your fingers were close to your pussy, until you heard a loud “thud” nearby.

You jolted out of the tub and pushed the shower curtain away but saw nothing unusual on the ground. Your shower mat was where it should be, your towel was hanging off the rack, your countertop was clean, save for the bottle of cough syrup.

Wait, what? You got out of the tub, staring at the bottle of cough syrup.

What in the world? Where did this come from? You stared at the bottle; it was completely new. The safety seal was still intact.

You immediately dried yourself and put on your robe. The doors were locked, your items were where they should be, nothing else was out of place. There was absolutely no evidence of anyone entering your home. You even realized that you didn’t see anything, or anyone, in the bathroom.

You checked your phone’s ring camera and saw the same. No one at the door, nothing. But the bottle got there somehow. A chill ran down your spine. You decided to watch one of your favourite comedy movies to put your mind at ease, putting the cough syrup in your medicine cabinet.

Months had passed since the incident with the bottle of cough syrup. You didn’t see or hear any other unusual things in your home. You even were surprised, since a few days after finding the bottle, you developed an itch in your throat. The cough syrup cleared it up.

Now, the weather was getting colder, shorts and flowing summer dresses were packed away, and out came your jackets and wool sweaters. Today was a particularly chilly day, so you opted for a thicker wool knit sweater and pants as you got ready for work. You were almost out the door when you decided to double check your work bag.

You had your work badge, essentials, a few receipts and an unopened pack of honey lemon lozenges.

“What?” You said out loud, pulling out the lozenges. You didn’t buy this. You didn’t recall buying this.

You stared at it, checking it to see if it was tampered, but nothing. It was completely new. You rummaged through your bag to see if anything else was out of the ordinary, but no. Your wallet was intact, toiletries had everything untouched, nothing was out of place.

You were dumbfounded, did a friend give you lozenges recently?

But you had no time to ponder, you were going to be late for work!

“It’s the strangest thing, Ran-chan!” You exclaimed to your friend and co-worker, Rangiku Matsumoto. “First the cough syrup, now the lozenges. I don’t remember buying them at all.”

Rangiku sipped her tea as she listened to you freak out over the mysterious appearances of these items, nodding along to what you were saying.

“Do you think it might be a prank?” She asked, pulling out her phone and typing something.

“I checked my ring camera, and there was no one at my door. Nothing.” You sighed.

“Maybe you’re being haunted.” She said, giving you a gleeful smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous. This will not get me to watch that weird show you keep talking about.”

Rangiku pouted, “you’re no fun sometimes,” she whined. “But you’re still getting drinks with me tonight, right?”

“Yes, yes, that hasn’t change.” You agreed, begrudgingly. While it was fun to drink with Rangiku, the weird occurrences in your home left you a bit unsettled.

“Aw, why the frown?” Rangiku teased, “have a drink to take your mind off your haunted house. Maybe you can find a guy for later.” She snickered, giving you a wink.

“Hm, that’s not such a bad idea.” You said, thinking more about it. You’ve been sexually frustrated as of late, and maybe a drink and a decent lay would take the edge off the home.

Rangiku smiled, but then put her hands on your shoulder, “but if you’re seriously that worried someone’s in your home, we can do a sleepover.” She gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you. It means a lot. But we can stick with our plan today.” You smiled, already counting down the hours to end of the day.

You slammed the door of your house in anger and huffed your way to your bedroom. The drinks with Rangiku were fun, but the decent lay was anything but enjoyable! You thought the man hitting on you was cute, but you felt like you wasted your time. The man was too preoccupied getting himself off, trying to shove his dick in your mouth, rather than making the entire experience pleasurable for the both of you.

You fished for your good and reliable vibrator. If one thing was for certain, you were sure to end the night with an orgasm (or two).

You stripped down and began to touch yourself, circling the vibrator around your clit. You moaned loudly, enjoying the pleasure running through your body. You were so close to your orgasm.

Until a loud thud was heard close to the side of your bed.

You jolted up and looked around, but saw nothing, except a glass of water and a bottle of Advil?

“Who’s there?” You yelled, now your own house wasn’t going to let you orgasm? You were frustrated beyond belief.

“Show yourself right now!” You screamed. You started counting out loud, when someone, started to appear in front of you.

The scream you let out made your own ears ring, and the person in front of you covered their own ears but gave you a sheepish smile. He was a tall man, with sharp features, black eyebrows, but long white hair. You hated to admit it, but he was handsome.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Said the man, his tone apologetic.

“Who are you?” You shrieked, “and what are you doing in my house?!” I must have drank too much tonight. This can’t be real you thought to yourself.

“Let me explain, but could you put on some clothes?” The man asked, a blush forming across his cheeks as he tried to avoid looking at you directly.

You huffed indignantly and grabbed an oversized hoodie. You crossed your arms as you sat on your bed, a displeased frown crossing your face, “ok, let me hear it.”

“I’m Jushiro Ukitake. I lived in this house over a hundred years ago. I was a merchant for my family.” He smiled at you, to which you noticed he had beautiful green eyes.

“Ukitake-san –“

“Call me Jushiro.” He interrupted.

“Ok, Jushiro-san, how did you die?” You bluntly asked, wondering if his death was tied to the house in some way.

“I died of pneumonia. It was rampant in the region.” His eyes fell downcast, “I was the last of my family to go.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. And you haven’t been able to pass on from the house?” You asked, still trying to understand how he appeared in the first place.

“Frankly, I’m not sure of it myself.” He laughed. “I realized I was in the home when you were taking a bath one night. I sensed something and felt an illness spirit nearby.” Jushiro explained.

“That explains the cough syrup…” You murmured, “but what about the lozenges?”

“I felt another illness spirit in your vicinity, so I put that in your bag. I didn’t want to worry you by leaving it around the house, but I think it had the opposite effect.” He laughed again, bowing his head in apology.

“And just now?” You huffed, still a bit angry that your intimate moment was ruined.

“I sensed alcohol around you and didn’t want you to wake up with a headache in the morning.”

“But I was clearly busy!” You cried in frustration.

Jushiro sighed, “I know, I’m sorry. And there’s another reason for that.”

You gave him a glare and a pout. Your sexual frustration didn’t dissipate, and the handsome man was making things worse.

“I think your sexual energy is affecting my spirit. I couldn’t bring or touch things in the house before until you moved in.” He admitted, giving you a serious look.

You burst out into laughter, “you can’t be serious?”

But Jushiro’s face was anything but serious. He gave you a stern look. “I want you to look at me and keep pleasuring yourself. You’ll see.”

Oh I must be completely wasted to think of something like this. You thought, but if this was a dream, you might as well enjoy it with the hot man your brain conjured up.

“Well fine then, but you can only look! No touching.” You remarked, as you took off your hoodie. You pinched your nipples, earning a sigh from you, then rubbed your clit. You leaned into your bed as you turned on your vibrator, pressing it to your clit again.

“Look.” Jushiro said, as you stared with him through half-hooded eyes. He seemed more “visible” to you, more real.

“If you’re so ‘real’” you moaned out, staring at him while pumping the vibrator outside of your dripping hole, “then touch me.”

Jushiro blushed, but didn’t look away, “if that’s what the lady of the house requests, then I must oblige.” He joked.

You spread your legs open and noticed the bed sank as he climbed between you. Jushiro placed his hands on top of your thighs, parting them further. “Is this real enough for you?” He asked, his tone unwavering.

“No,” you smiled, biting your lip.

Jushiro’s hands crept up your body. They were strong and firm, squeezing different parts of you until he reached your breasts. He pinched your nipples then rolled them between his fingers, then without warning, sucked on one, then the other.

Oh this definitely feels real. Your realized, but you were too caught up in the sensations to even care anymore. You gently pulled Jushiro’s head away from your breasts and kissed him deeply. He returned your kiss and pushed you back into the bed.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Jushiro-san.” You whined.

Jushiro gave you another smile and chuckled, undoing his robes. You placed your hand over his firm chest, ran your fingers along it. You cupped his growing erection and gave him a squeeze, earning a moan from him. His presence felt more solid with every kiss, nip and touch you two gave each other.

“This device is amazing.” Jushiro said, as he reached out to your vibrator.

“It is! But sometimes you just want the ‘real’ thing, you know?” You teased, pumping his cock. His cock was heavy in your hands, as you felt ever vein and ridge, to the tip of his cock.

“I can’t say no to the beautiful lady of the house, can I?” He murmured, preparing to enter you. He slightly tapped his cock against your clit, earning a moan from you. He groaned as he entered you slowly, filling you up. You mewled at the stretch, eyes rolling at the sensation. Then you heard the whirl of your vibrator, and looked down, to see Jushiro placing it on your clit. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back as he began to thrust inside you.

Jushiro didn’t know how to work your vibrator like you did and set it to a level where there was barely any vibration, not that you minded, his cock felt amazing inside you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips, his thrusts a bit too slow for your liking.

“Faster, Jushiro, please.” You whined, arching your back to feel him deeper inside you. Jushiro grabbed your hips and slammed himself inside you, as the two of you moaned from the sensation. His pace quickened, earning praises and moans from you. “You feel so good, Jushiro. Your cock is so big inside me.” You moaned, rocking your hips to his pace.

Jushiro let one hand go off your hip to grab your vibrator again, this time, to a much higher setting then before, placing it firmly on your clit. You screamed at the sensation, seeing stars as Jushiro’s thrusts didn’t waver, your juices covering his cock. His groaning grew in intensity, before he pulled out and came over your wet pussy. He rolled off you, catching his breath. You panted next to him, taking in what just happened, but exhaustion hit you faster. Before you knew it, you were fast asleep next to him.

Your head was slightly pounding, and you felt the light film of the drinks you had, covering your tongue. Your lower body was sore, as you remembered what had happened last. You found your vibrator on the ground, and your pussy still wet from last night.

“That was such an intense dream.” You said aloud, as you inspected how wet you were.

“You’re awake!” Jushiro entered your room, a beaming smile on his face. “I made you breakfast.”

You stared at him dumbfounded, “you’re real?”

“Well last night certainly was very real.” He chuckled. You saw the worried look in his face as you fainted from shock.

This was fun to write (albeit maybe not quite ritualistic). I wanted to write something with a horror vibe, but this was too fun to write! I hope you guys had a good chuckle and thanks for reading! :)

The inspo for this song (and title on AO3) is from Andre VII's song "Pseudoesotérico" feat. Andres Caballero.

[lfghughes]

I feel like Andrei is constantly horny and trying to feel you up or have sex so could you write something where you’re trying to get some chores done and he comes up behind you and you’re just so used to it and you let him do what he wants while also getting your tasks done?

a/n: this took me a little while to do just because i feel like im slightly a perfectionist who tries to make this as little cringy as possible

warning: 18++ only, smutty content,

Any day that you were off from work and Andrei was at practice was a day you considered perfect for doing chores around the house. You felt like otherwise things tended to pile up between laundry and putting clean dishes away. Between both of your hectic schedules but also just how distracting your boyfriend could be at times. You had just gotten to the dishes when you heard the door shut in the distance, signaling that he was home already.

It didn’t take long for him to find you in the kitchen, washing the dishes and for his arms to wrap around your waist. He leaned down to press kisses to your neck. “You should stop just for a little.” He whispered into your ear and you knew exactly what he wanted. If there was anything your relationship did not lack, it was the chemistry and the sexual tension. “Babe, I’m in the middle of dishes. Not right now.” You told him.

His fingers went to the band of your sweatpants and you turned your head slightly, raising a brow at him and curious as to his next move. Well you knew his next move because you knew him a little well. “Oh you can keep washing the dishes, I promise to not distract you too much.” His words just made your stomach tighten with anticipation as his fingers slipped into your sweats.

He hadn’t even done anything yet but you were already wet and ready to feel him in some sort of way. His fingers slid inside of your panties and went right where you needed them. You gripped the kitchen countertop as he slowly dragged his fingers across you. “Don’t forget the dishes.” He teased as he leaned down to your ear as he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly. “Mm, you’re so wet, baby.” He mumbled in your ear as he kept moving his fingers inside of you, applying pressure where needed as you turned your attention to the dishes.

It was hard trying to do both, when he was working on you the way that he was and his lips attached themselves to your neck. Your own hands continued with the sponge on the plate you were cleaning and it felt like it took forever for you to finish off the last pieces of silverware that were left over. “Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked as you gripped onto the counter, reaching with one hand to shut the water off from the sink. As his fingers continued working on you, you let out soft moans as released washed over your body. Your body relaxing against him slightly as he pulled his fingers out from you.

He brought his fingers to his lips and you could feel desire pool in your stomach all over again. “So what do you have next on your agenda? Dishes are done.” He pointed out and you just nodded your head to the laundry room to where you were planning on finishing the laundry. “Mm, perfect place to do what I want next.” You could only imagine what he had planned next but you had an idea that the rest of your chores list was going to have an interesting twist to it.

[allmyocsarebritish]

Kiss, Maime, Kill - Chapter 4: A Splendid Evening

Pairing: Alastor X killer! F Reader

Warnings!!!: Not really many on this one actually :0, bit of fluff as calm before the storm

Sorry for a late update, got the flu kicking my ass as well as GCSE exams lololol

Word count: 0.73k

1932

Louisiana, New Orleans

"And I do not care how complicated this gets. I still want you. I always will, Cher."

He opened his arm to you, and you slotted underneath, basking in his warm embrace.

"I love with my soul instead of my heart or mind, in case my mind forgets or my heart stops. But my soul will forever be yours, Mon cœur."

And he kept to his word. The past two years both of you were practically glued at the hip, partners in crime. Literally.

Unsurprisingly it wasn't long before the courtship gave way to marriage.

The stale smell of alcohol permeated the atmosphere. Stains of the liquids splashed over plush couches and barstools, the countertops clean yet permanently discoloured. Clinking of glasses echoed through the bar, accompanied by intoxicated laughter. Your own glass was smooth and clear, barely filled with a golden, shiny liquid and topped off with oversized ice cubes. The alcohol was fiery, scorching your throat as it rushed down, molten like magma. You winced at the harsh sting, coughing and spluttering at the way you knocked back half the glass in one sitting.

A gentle hand patted your back as you regained composure. "Are you alright, Cher?" He asked, a miniscule hint of concern seeping into his voice. Alastor's high tolerance to alcohol left him practically unaffected, even despite the smoldering sensation.

"Yes.. yes I'm fine, Al. Thank you." You squeezed your husband's hand. (hehheeheh)

After that you stuck to nursing your drinks, continuing for another couple of rounds before deciding to call it a night.

"Best of luck, Chums!" Alastor called out to the rest of the bar as you left, arm extended behind him. Some of the patrons hummed in acknowledgement, others were too intoxicated to care or comprehend the dismissal.

The streets of New Orleans were dark and cold, a stark contrast to the warm, fuzzy, golden ambience of the rather scruffy little bar. Cozy, yet not fully safe. Yet even the dingiest alleyway was nothing to fear for prolific serial killers, especially not when you knew Alastor was with you.

Long, drawn out shadows were cast by the moon, darkness enthralling the path you walked on. Yellow street lamps allowed for a slight rest bite in the night, and the crescent moon itself illuminated the inky sky. Night may have been full of secrets and terror for the ordinary person, but for you it was comforting and normal. The whole world slept and slowed as you watched. The monsters lurking in the shadows were yourselves, personified and human.

However, as winter drew in, the evening came with a sharp, chilling bite. You shivered slightly, pulling your thin jacket closer around your body.

"Cold?" Alastor asked, noticing you faulter.

"Only slightly." You breathed out in response, not that he believed that. No, he was already shrugging off his own coat, and, before you knew it, the material was wrapped around your shoulders, engulfing you in his warmth and scent. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, my dear." You shared a smile before continuing on your way back home.

"The world is brighter with you in it."

"What a shame. I should hope my presence brings dreariness and discomfort to those around me." Alastor joked, raising a hand to his forehead in mock distress, drawing a snort from you. You stopped and turned to face him, causing him to do the same.

"Well, I can guarantee it does to some, my love. Particularly those we bump off I'd expect."

"Splendid!" You shook your head in exasperation as he took off, leaving you jogging to catch up to such an unreasonably fast pace. "You're such a goof." His stride lengthened further in challenge and before you knew it, the two of you were practically racing down the path.

By the time you reached home, it was particularly late, 2 in the morning to be exact.

"It's growing rather late." You acknowledged, kicking off your shoes by the door.

"Quite." Alastor agreed, holding out his hand to you before leading the way to your shared bedroom. He tossed you some more comfortable nightwear, leaving you to change. Waves of exhaustion engulfed you, your mind clouded with the alcohol. The last thing you remembered before sleep claimed you was a warm embrace and soft, comforting bedsheets tucked beneath your chin.

A splendid evening, all in all.

Part 5!!

[miraculousficsarchive]

Blueberry Sugar

Chapter 1: Not Exactly a First Meeting

🫐

Marinette busted her ass all day every day and no one could deny that. Having it be your parents diner and all, you'd think that would mean you could slack off sometimes. Marinette? No way. She put 100% of herself into this job regardless of what was thrown at her. She always said, "Being a waitress isn’t for the faint of heart". Between the teenagers that try not to pay, couples who fight, and old people who think they're entitled to free food because she got their order wrong -which she totally didn't do but whatever- it was hard to keep a smile on all day. Mari managed. And truth be told, the only thing that kept her going was her school. Every paycheck she got, most of it went towards her tuition. After all, the best fashion school in Paris wasn't cheap. Sure, balancing classes and shifts at the diner and superhero work is a pain in the ass. But if she could just break into the industry, this would all be worth it. All the disaster tables she had to clean, every child throwing food on the floor, and all the awkward old men hitting on her would all pay off. Don't get her wrong, being Ladybug is a dream come true and all, but it doesn't pay the bills.

So in the meantime, her home is DC's diner.

Her long hair was pulled into a large bun on top of her head, bright red ribbon keeping it in place. She smiled at the young woman in front of her as she paid her bill and left the diner. The second the door closed she dropped her smile and her head, leaning across the counter.

"Alyaaaaaa, I'm dead."

Her friend laughed from across the room.

"You and me both. Look at this mess. What's with kids throwing food everywhere? I think I stepped in macaroni."

Marinette perked up and examined the bottom of her own shoes.

"Gross."

After Alya was done cleaning the floor and Marinette had finished wiping countertops and tables, Alya took off her apron and said goodbye to her friend. Mari always stayed late to close up, partially because she's the only one that her parents trust to do it, and partially because she liked the quiet after a long day of noise.

As she said goodbye to the cooks and started counting the register, she heard the chime of the front door opening. Not looking up from the money, she called to whoever walked in.

"Sorry but our cooks just left. We're closing up."

"Awe man, I heard you guys have the best pie here. I was aching to get my claws on some."

Marinette's eyes whipped up to see big shoulders, blonde hair and cat ears.

"O-oh! Chat Noir!"

She quickly stuffed the money back in the register to count later. Fixing her uniform and hair, she motioned for him to sit at the counter. What was he doing here? Did he find her out? She thought he'd gave that up years ago. They haven't talked about secret identities in forever. Did he follow her here? He's supposed to be on patrol right now.

"We still have some left. What kind would you like?"

His eyes grew as he sat on the stool in front of the pie shelf.

"Blueberry, of course. Gotta start with the classics."

He flashed her his signature smile and she had to force her eyes away before they rolled into the back of her head. She grabbed him a slice and set it in front of him.

"Hope you like it."

He took a bite and looked her in the eyes.

"This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten."

As much as she would try to deny it, her face started to show a hint of pink. She smiled and suddenly found interest in the strings hanging from her apron.

"Thank you. They're made in house every morning. The blueberry is my favorite to make."

He planted both hands on the counter and leaned forward.

"You made this?!"

She laughed and nodded, watching him shovel a big bite into his mouth.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Oh, now I've gotta try them all. How late can you stay open?"

Marinette put a hand on her hip and pointed at the menu on the wall above her. He followed her finger to see a list of prices for the wall of pies behind her.

"Heroes only get one free slice a day. You buying?

He gave a nervous laugh and his ears bent down.

"Oh. I forgot my wallet at home."

She crossed her arms and smiled.

"Sorry, Mr Noir. Our pies get donated to charity every night, and as far as I can tell, you're not needy." She gently poked his chest as she spoke, a little surprised with how firm it was. Was he flexing?

"You donate your pies? That's really nice."

She turned back to counting the money in the cash register to avoid his gaze.

"Yeah. We always have leftovers and it's not right to throw them away. We take them to the nearby community center and they're given to people that are struggling."

He looked at her as she closed the register and then scribbled on a piece of paper. She ripped it off and slid it over to him.

He picked it up to see an address.

"Feel free to swing by sometime. I'm sure they'd love to meet the famous Chat Noir."

He smiled and tucked the paper into his bell.

"I just might take you up on that, Miss-" he leaned in to read her name tag.

"Marinette."

Her heart skipped a beat when her civilian name fell out of his mouth. This was weird. Did she like hearing that? Surely not. He was annoying. A good partner? Yes. But still annoying. Why did she invite him to the community center? They shouldn't have contact as civilians. It's dangerou-

"Are you here every day?"

She realized she'd been standing there silent and nervously flashed him a smile.

"Uh, yeah. Just about."

"Well, it looks like I just found my new favorite pie place."

He walked to the door and waved as he extended his staff. He placed it on the ground and put one foot on the side of it.

"Goodnight Marinette!"

Fully extending it, he launched himself into the night sky.

Mari quickly ran over to the door and locked it, leaning her back on the door as if it would prevent him from returning.

"What was that!?"

🫐

Index | Next

[jerzwriter]

What's forever for?

I apologize in advance for this one... I blame @choicesflashfics lol It's really my fault. I sent in the prompt, so I felt I had to write it, but nothing came to mind. When I rolled out of bed this morning afternoon, this was in my head, and I just went with it. Remember: It's an AU. lol This fic has turned into a little separate universe. You can find more details about it, and associated fics, here.

Book:                   Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:                Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey)

Rating:                 Teen

Category:            Angst/One-Shot/AU

Warnings: Breakup

Summary:   It's their last morning together in the home they had called their own. As Casey goes through a multitude of emotions, she comes to understand what the future can be.

Words: 2,418

A/N: They're kind of above, but this is for @choicesflashfics, prompt: “I didn’t see it then, but you were saying goodbye the entire time.” Also participating in @choicesjanuarychallenge Day 4 - Break-up. Now I'm going to eat ice cream.

Not an inspiration - but this OLD song was in my head non-stop as I wrote. Hence, the title. I'm going to get ice cream.

What's Forever For by Michael Murphy WFF? Universe Info & Masterlist Tobias & Casey Masterlist All Works Masterlist

It was a beautiful day. After a cold and dreary winter, the sun was shining bright, filling the kitchen with an ethereal glow. The air was still crisp, but so much warmer. It was the first time in forever that she didn’t need a coat when she took little Cocoa out for his morning walk. But of all days, it had to be today? Another cruel irony sealed her belief that even mother nature was mocking her. Was it a sadistic sense of humor… or perhaps just one more thing that betrayed her?

She chuckled ruefully as she wiped down the countertop that didn’t need to be cleaned. She had wiped it down at least a hundred times since aborting her attempts at sleep last night. But her hands needed something to do, anything to keep her mind off of her heart. She didn’t think it was breaking anymore… it was already broken into a million pieces. Now, she wondered if it had ceased to exist. So she dragged the rag over it again, staring at the specs of glitter scattered throughout the granite just one last time.

Glitter. In granite. It seemed silly then, and it seemed more foolish now. He thought it was a great idea. Something bright and sparkly on a surface that was normally mundane. It was so much like her… he had said… bright, full of life…sparkling fairy dust wherever she went. And as that memory drifted in, then out of her mind, a gentle snort escaped her. So much for a mindless task whisking her away; there was no escape.

A slow, even hum replaced the deafening silence that had filled the air. Then muffled voices ushered her back to the present. His moving truck had arrived. She poured a tall glass of ice water and gulped it down, hoping the chill would stop the tears from springing from her eyes. But it had no effect. She could still hear his voice, buoyant, almost cheerful… how could it be? The moving men were laughing pleasantly. Of course, they were. He made everyone feel at home. He certainly had that effect on her. In the beginning, in the middle…and even now, if she let him… at the end. But she couldn’t let him.  

How? How she wondered as she stared out the kitchen window, cursing the birds for singing their song. How could he be so bright on this very morning? Even if it was just a façade… and she was sure it was a façade… just like so many things had been. Yet he still found the energy to muster it up, to put on an act so those in his presence would feel comfortable. Anyone looking at her right now would just want to run away. No one likes being near grief. But she couldn’t do it today. It took all of her conviction to will herself to breathe. To keep herself from falling apart and becoming a total mockery. That she could manage. But a smile? A corny joke? Right now, she felt they were years away.

The voices moved upstairs, and she could hear footsteps making their way around the rooms that had been the stage of her life. They went up and down, carrying boxes that contained pieces of a life now gone out the front door until there was nothing left. It wouldn’t be long now. This big old place, so much bigger than they ever needed… but he insisted. And she caved. Like the glitter on the counter, it made him happy, and everything seemed bright. So why would she say no? Now, the rooms were being emptied, just like her heart, and every muffled sound echoed like thunder through the vacant halls. They made a choice together, and he had left long ago, in spirit if not body, so why… why was this so hard.

She shut her eyes tight, and a single, hot tear rolled down her cheek. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it was. Everyone told her she’d be OK. A brighter tomorrow awaited her. This chapter was closed, but a new one was beginning… and she knew it was true…but not today. Today, she cursed the sun, which was doing its best to warm her frozen soul, and wanted to scream to frighten the singing birds and happy movers away. How dare they! How dare they be merry and bright… TODAY! They could do it next month, next week, maybe even tomorrow they could try. But to do it in front of her… today! Today? It was an offense that rattled her soul. But like so many days that preceded it, she had to garner the strength to ignore the world's insensitivity of carrying on while her world had crashed to an end.  

Her cell phone vibrated, skating softly along the shining countertop, and a beautiful picture appeared. Her precious little boy, bundled up in a coat and hat despite the mercury being at 60 degrees. Smiling without a care in the world, he descended the slide in the park by her mother’s home. Then the impossible occurred. A small smile appeared on her lips.

I wanted to let you know I took Kyle to the diner for his favorite pancakes, and now we’re at the park. He’s having a great day. He greeted everyone we met along the street and laughed with joy as the birds scattered when he chased them. They don’t understand he just wants to be their friend. Still, their chirping made him smile. It’s going to be all right, sweetheart. I made your favorite brownies, and we’ll have them tonight. It’s going to be all right.

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the guilty footsteps approaching behind her until it was too late. If she had, she might have rushed out the kitchen door to escape him, but then again, maybe not. She could have stayed at her mother’s last night; she could be with her and Kyle at the park. But she felt like she had to be here. Perhaps it was for closure, or maybe she was a bit of a masochist… or both. But no matter, it was too late to run away.

“That’s the last of my things,” he said in a voice so low it was almost unrecognizable.

“Um-huh,” she managed, wiping a tear away from her eye before he could see.

He looked at the phone on the counter, and she could feel his demeanor change, even though her back still faced him.

“Look at him,” he smiled. “He looks like he’s having a great day.”

“Yeah,” Casey sniffled. “I’m glad he is.”

“I guess someone’s gotta be, right?”

The sadness in his voice was unmistakable, and she didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry. HOW DARE HE! Mr. Sunshine and Bright. Mr. Everything Will Be OK. The man who had lit up her world, warmed her heart, and ignited a passion she never knew before. Mr. Fake it Until You Make It, and never let them see you cry…. Mr. It’s just not going to work for us, Casey. Mr. I didn’t want to break your heart. How dare he show such emotion right now! It was over, mostly by his design, and all she needed for him was to leave, so she could move on. Because she had to move on… if she didn’t… she wasn’t sure she could survive.

“I suppose,” she said, quickly shuffling across the room; his proximity a dagger in her heart.

She hated him. She hated him so much. But not in the way one hates a stranger or those who wish to do us harm. She hated him in the unique way one hates the person we’re destined to love our entire lives, even when they’ve hurt us so. She knew she’d get over him; she knew she’d move on. But she also knew that her heart would always bear his name. That years from now, she’d still wake up a hundred times expecting to find him at her side, and what remained of her heart would still shatter a little more each time it realized he wasn’t there. How could the man she loved… adored… so much deliver her this much pain? She hated him. She hated all right. But she hated herself more… because she couldn’t stop loving him if she tried.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

“No. I’m staying at my Mother’s. My stuff will be out on Monday, but… last night was my last night here. I… I can’t be here anymore.”

“I know,” he sighed, an aching sigh that burned as it escaped his chest. The façade he showed the world was collapsing all at once. Not everyone saw this side of Tobias Carrick, but Casey did. The side that wasn’t jovial and always bright, the side that became angered and showed despair. She once thought it was a blessing… he loved her so much that he could be his true self. But now, how she yearned to go back. Back to the days when he was the smile that brightened her day and the bombastic voice echoing down the hall at work, always bringing a smile to her face. When he was the laughter and the song that filled their favorite spot, drawing every single eye their way. She recalled the envy in them all… they wanted to be her, or him… them… they were everything everyone else wished to be. She wanted to go back to a day when that’s all that they were… when that was all that she knew… but if she did… would she make different choices? Would she trade away the joy for the pain bound to follow? Was a life of heartache too great a price to pay to have experienced a love like theirs had been?

“Casey?” he said tenderly, reaching over to tap her arm when she didn’t reply. She hadn’t heard a word he said.

Shaken, she jolted back and saw the embarrassment and pain on his face when he realized what his touch had brought her now. They both looked away in shame.

“Uhm… I’m sorry… I didn’t hear, you… I….”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said sadly. Hands in his pockets, he rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet… she had never seen him look this uncomfortable, so unsure… not even on that night he told her he had no more left to give. “I guess…. I guess this is it,” his voice cracked. “I hope you know how sorry I am. I never wanted….”

Casey's eyes shut as she shook her head and held up her hand. Silencing him without a word.

“No,” she whispered. “No. Uh-uh. We’ve done this… we’re not doing it again.”

Abashed, he looked to his feet, swallowing the tears that would soon consume him. She was his home no more.  

“It’s not even your fault,” her voice creaked. “I can’t even blame… it’s not even your fault. In so, so many ways… I’m to blame. I loved you, Tobias. I loved you so much that I ignored every sign, and there were always signs. When you told me you couldn’t believe this was you, what we had was never your kind of thing… I knew it then, but I didn’t want to believe it. When you’d say that you didn’t understand what I saw in you when all I saw were the million things that I wanted to see, the million beautiful things that make you you. Oh, I loved those things, Tobias. I still do. I loved them so much that I overlooked the parts that frightened me, the parts that would have made me wonder if we would be standing right here, right now. You told me I deserved better, and I didn’t want to believe that. But… perhaps I did. I didn’t see it then, but you were saying goodbye the entire time. This was never the life you wanted. There was no way it could work for you, so I’m sorry… I’m sorry for trying to make you fit someplace you didn’t belong.”

“No! No,” he interrupted. The ever-present light in his eyes diminished, replaced with a glint of tears as he approached her. “Don’t ever say that. I belonged. Just because it didn’t work doesn’t mean I didn’t want it… or that it shouldn’t have been. You… you and Kyle… you were…” He bit his lip and sniffled, his tears now falling freely as he slumped over the counter. “It was….”

Something switched inside Casey at that moment… seeing him shattered before her, recognizing his heartbreak was different but no less painful than hers. It would take her years before she understood it, but something had changed.

“It was a dream,” she finished, placing her hand on his shoulder. “It was a beautiful dream, and, despite the pain, I’m so glad I got to share it with you. And look,” she grabbed her phone. “Look at what we made together. Kyle is the best of us, the very best, and while we may not be forever… he is, and… well, I guess that means… in some way… we are too. It’s not the way we planned, but….”

He stood up slowly, his sanguine smile encouraging her to create one of her own. “We are,” he said with a graveled voice. “It’s not what we planned, but Kyle… and you…. you are both my forever.”

Neither could tell you how much time had passed. They stood together, clinging to each other as if they were afraid they’d disappear before them. Months of anger, resentment, and fear melted away with each tear they shed. Each knowing it was time to cast the bitterness aside and build a bridge for what was to come. This wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t their dream when they had said vows years before, but they’d be a family forever, and a family they’d remain… even if a new chapter was beginning.

Casey was the first to pull away. Grabbing a wad of paper towels, she handed some to him and kept a bunch for herself.   She blew her nose much louder than anticipated, and their laughter joined the harsh sound, echoing throughout the halls where they created the story of their lives.

“Come on,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I’d like that,” he smiled.

They each peered around one last time, leaving their home the same way they once walked in: arm in arm, to a bright future that was yet unwritten.  

A/N2: Y'all notice I gave them one son. Nothing like their three little girls in their REAL story. Becuase how dare I fucking do this to my babies. Don't talk to me... lol :)

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

OH Only: @annfg8 @binny1985 @coffeeheartaddict2 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @ofmischiefandmedicine @peonierose @youlookappropriate

Tobias Only: @icecoffee90 @kyra75

[blueberryjam1201]

Unexpected

Chapter 5

Genre: drama, comedy

I gave lots of love for this chapter, and even though the view descriptions could be a little boring, but I wanted to give you a full picture of what I see .

Please leave me a comment and heart if you like it❤️

"The double rainbow we saw that day...

...Ah..

You admired the rainbow, and I admired you...

The colorful pictures were taken that day,

I don't need to print them off...

They are engraved in my memory forever...

The strings, plucked by our fingers...

The strings we created...

The life we expected..."

...

It was the evening when he came back from a work trip...

Kyungsoo and YiSeul sat at the table.  YiSeul released her hair from the tight top knot and brushed by fingers so they would lie down nicely on her arms. Then a gentle smile appeared on her face:

- How was your trip? -

- I'm more tired than before the trip. To be honest, I could have been sleeping inside the JJ building. Everyday meetings, and organizational projects. I even worked with a live audio engineering team to make sure the stadium equipment was efficient -

The spark in his eyes shined though, those words didn't sound like a complaint.

- Oh, so Baboo has a new skill! - she joked

- I knew it all! I was the one who was teaching them - touched his full of pride chest while declaring that - and you? Except for the accident with your mom, what have you been doing? - She took a sip of wine and brushed he hair to the back:

- Nothing worth mentioning... Oh! We will probably have a job for Marie Claire! - that made her suddenly jump and point finger at a random place on the sealing, for no reason.

- Wow, that's great. I'm sure you will do a great job! - Kyungsoo comforted her. The atmosphere suddenly became lively.

They spend an hour chatting and sharing a great time.

When the time for cleaning came, they collected all the plates and she started washing dishes while he was cleaning the table. When finished, he stood behind her and hugged tightly. Then brushed her hair to the side and comfortably placed his face on their arm. Then gave her a peck on the ear...slowly going down her neck. She stopped washing, turned around, and with wet fingers she slid down his face gently. Down the forehead and nose, then stopped at the lips. She placed her hand on his back and pressed against her. Both lips touched creating a euphoria running down their bodies. Kyungsoo forgot about all the doubts, from a few minutes ago. It was too late to stop it...

The night was intimidating like a starry night on a clear sky...

.......................................................................................................................................

AUTHOR NOTE: TBC in a special chapter! You can find it here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51266965

...........................................................................................................................................

In the morning Kyungsoo woke up in his bed and groped blindly for YiSeul who was usually sleeping next to him. After still half asleep mind realised she was not there, he opened his eyes to confirm it. There was no one in the room except him. The atmosphere after last night's full swing was still in the air. The grey flat carpet looked like it was part of the gym flooring, if only any gym would use a house carpet. Kyungsoo slowly sat on the bed and moved to the edge. His slippers were nowhere to be found, so he just ignored his barefoot feet and headed to the door.

While walking down the stairs he was focused on listening to any sounds. "Has she gone home?" Thought impatiently and his feet moved faster with every step..."She's here..." he stopped and looked at his girlfriend leaning her back on the kitchen's countertop and scrolling something on her phone. A teethy smile appeared on his face.

- YiSeul, you're up already? -

- Oh, KyungSoo, you woke up? Good - she smiled back when raised her head - I'm going to start work earlier today. Will be sleeping at my mom's tonight. Give me a call later, ok? - and she moved to the door's direction and stopped halfway. Kyungsoo without a second thought jumped down the stairs and walked casually to her side. Hugged gently, staying a little longer in this position than it was needed:

- Eat well and don't forget to wear warm clothes, it's cold outside - he looked into her eyes - Give me a call when you're free OK? -

She gave him a peck on the lips and with a wide smile said: - See you...Baboo - she waved her hand, opened the door, and disappeared behind it in a second.

His mind for some reason went blank, but not because she walked away. He felt like he was carrying a heavy burden on his back for a long time and suddenly it disappeared. He stretched his back without discomfort. What was the reason for this burden? He couldn't understand himself, but it doesn't matter now. He is full of joy and feels like his body is about to float in the air any minute. Nothing will change his mood today. Time to go to work...

KyungSoo's contract states that his work pattern is from Monday to Friday, with office hours from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. In reality, when it's busy he comes earlier to have everything prepared perfectly. Finish time also depends on his own work goals. When it's quiet he can finish earlier and work from home if needed. When it's busy, he is staying till he finishes his job. A job that is usually set up by himself. Even the receptionists are joking that they will apply for creating a living room in this building, especially for him. Because it's a busy period, Kyungsoo arrived at work at 7 a.m

JJ Entertainment was built in JungGu, Seuls Jung district which is in Seuls center and just the northern side of the famous Han River. This district is also famous for its history and reminding historical buildings, these days however mixed with also the modern ones.

The company's large grounds were placed 10 min from the main road, embracing one small street area. The main building's shape was oval from the bottom to approximately the 4th floor, then the shape changed to a regular rectangular office building created from glass walls, just in the center of its round bottom. From the street to the main entrance was a large space filled with nicely shaped bushes on the sides and a few branches placed one after another in rows. The parking lot was placed on the left side. JJE smaller buildings were placed behind the main one, with a substantial park in the middle. It was probably not created for employers to enjoy their break time, but for outsiders and other companies, as well as stockholders, to make an outstanding impression.

Kyungsoo parked his car after approximately 30 minutes of travel. He headed to the main entrance ignoring anyone who just passed by. There's no need to smile at strangers even if they knew who he was. KyungSoo's personality is honest, he can't lie and wear a smiling mask even in this business world full of puppets and those with power. If he meets someone he knows, then he will definitely greet this person. For example, ladies from reception...

- Good morning. Early start today? - one of them just grabbed his attention. They are always doing that, not only to KyungSoo. A smiling young lady with a nicely tied bun and wearing a two-piece skirt suit set in silver color waved to him from the reception desk. Two more ladies were wearing the same style and makeup which was nicely done eyebrows, long lashes, and red lips.

- Good morning, any news? - Kyungsoo stopped to have a chat.

- Nothing much today - then she opened her notebook and double-checked her words - Tempo is coming at 9 am, later new solo artist is looking for advice. The visit was authorized by Kim. The meeting was at 11:30, so we were crossing fingers for the solo artist...- then she raised her crossed fingers and gazed at Kyungsoo with a teethy smile which was giving him the android doll vibe programmed to cheer for buyers, so he ignored it waiting for the rest of today's plan...- around 15:30 Creams will arrive and discuss their new album details -

- Am I fully dealing with them again? - KyungSoo interrupted her because this unpleasant feeling of not knowing what his real tasks were was disturbing. What was the purpose of taking away Creams from him and then sending them from time to time for a consultation or whatever it is? He still hasn’t forgotten what Kim has done at the meeting...

- Apologies sir, I have no details in this matter...- she was upset, but not because of him. She was upset that as a receptionist she should be a better support.

- It's fine, I'll ask them by myself - he shook his hand to calm her down - Thanks, see you later - slightly bowed down and headed to the gates on the right side of the reception.

The gates looked like the airport, just "the doors" were square glass plates that could be opened only by swapping an employee's card. Straight after the gates was a corridor with 2 lifts on the right and left, also further down another path leading to corridors hidden behind the walls. He used the first lift on the left. Then after riding alone, he stopped at the 7th floor. Then, headed to the studio at the very end of this long corridor, doors on the right.

He opened the black, solid doors which were heavy like his garden fence when he just moved in, before applying oil.

The studio consists of two rooms. First, after entering the main door was the control booth. Doors were under the left side wall. Just further down was the lounge area. A black leather couch under the wall and two armchairs standing parallel, forming a U shape with a coffee table just in the center. On their right side was a long control desk with hundreds of recording controls, and a main computer in the middle. Two large screens were placed at the window just above the desk, a keyboard on placed on it and small space for a computer mouse on its right side. The office chair was nicely placed under. The window was as wide as the control desk. At the end of this room on the right side was a bar chair and a high table with a microwave, then under the wall 3 vending machines, each with different products. Sandwiches and noodle soups, cold drinks and hot drinks. Except for them, on this wall, two pairs of doors were seen, probably for machine rooms.

Kyungsoo came near the high table at the end, took out a laptop from his backpack, and placed it in the middle. Then he took out the blue file and black notebook and headed to the chair in the middle of the control booth. When sat down, he lowered under to press the PC power button, and then he sat comfortably and looked behind the window.

The second room was a vocal booth. This was the place for real fun for musicians as after entering by the door from the control booth's right side, there was all kind of different instruments standing and waiting to be used!

Right wall - metal desk with violin and flute case, then large black piano. The back wall was filled with all kinds of guitars and bass guitars hung on the rack like coats in the anteroom. On the left side was a drum set and three hand drums of a different size. Then finally, in the middle was a vocal station with a high chair, microphone, and isolation shield.

Kyungsoo started working on the computer, took out from his pocket a pen-drive, and inserted it into the PC. Time was passing fast when he was working, writing in the notebook, and creating new beats in production software. "A piece of cake," he thought, and after that he opened his eyes and a sudden spark appeared in his gaze. He took a pen, played one of the beats, and went:

"A piece of cake...

Inscribed in significance

I wrote it as I wished

As the author of the novel"

the melody was coming along with the words. He suddenly stood up and started singing:

"Before it gets more difficult

With the words I said

The day... that felt like a dream" then stopped

- no, "an answer" sounds better...- and typed it down. The whispers from the door site woke him up from a trance and he rushed to see who is it. It was four Tempo members secretly watching him from a slightly opened door and giggling with each other. He calmed down:

- You're here? Did I leave the doors open? -

Boys walked in with amused faces and one of them answered " Yes, sorry for eavesdropping" and he folded his hands as if in prayer.

He was quite tall, around 180 cm, with medium-length wavy hair, and a round face.

The member on his right was maybe 173cm tall, with short hair with red colored gelled bangs up. Kyungsoo guessed it was some kind of trend that he was not following, but it would pass soon anyway so no point in thinking about it.

Next, the tallest of them, maybe a 188cm guy with blue hair color, cut in a mushroom hairstyle. Again, for Kyungsoo probably the color was a bigger question than the cut, but he ignored it.

The fourth one was max 170cm and his hair was blond dreadlocks.

- Guys, sorry, I have seen your names but still don't know who is who. Can you enlighten me? - he pressed his hand against his chest - I'm Doh KyungSoo as you probably already know -

- I'm Di! - the one with wavy hair said

- I'm TJ - the one with gelled bangs

- I'm Luke - the tallest said and Kyungsoo commented: "Oh, going by English name?"

- My name is Nakatsu, and I'm Japanese - he made a peace sign and pressed it to his face with a teethy smile.

- Nice to meet you guys - KyungSoo was calm, but it seemed he couldn't wait to start. He prepared many tasks before they started the real thing.

- Sit on a couch, I would like to speak and get to know you - he pointed to the lobby and then headed to his producer's chair under the control desk.

After a while, when they finished talking about themself he went:

- Who is rapping and who is singing, also what kind of vocal range are you? -

They shouted together while raising their hands high like at school. - Sorry, what did you say? Soprano? - he asked Di.

- I can go very high! - shouted with pride, but Kyungsoo, even without changing his impassive facial expression he smirked. Soprano is the highest female range, we will see if he is telling the truth.

- And you? - asked Nakatsu

- I'm on the lower range but I can do runs and adlips! - said that to make Kyungsoo curious about his abilities. Then the producer asked:

- So you both are rapping? For a rap... guys, please do not mumble rap, I will appreciate any effort to be as creative as it is possible, OK? -

Silence...

- We're not mumble rapping, no worries! - The blue-haired Luke laughed out loud.

- I'm glad to hear that because what I have for you will need a specific style and flexibility to make it perfect. Let's check your vocals range first, so I'll know where we are standing -

And the KyungSoo's mini-casting started. Apparently, the vocals were slightly different than what was stated by the members. Also, Kyungsoo helped them to explore their vocal capabilities. This studio suddenly became an amusement park. The laugh and excitement were heard even in the corridor...Where Kim was standing and listening, as the doors were not closed fully.

- Manager Kim...-

He jumped on site after hearing a gentle voice talking from the back. With eyes wide open he tried to catch a breath.

- Director Choi, what brings you to the 7th floor? - asked one question but it seems he had more of them in his head.

- I'm just checking on our new boy group. How are they? -

The person standing there was a middle-aged tall woman with black long hair tied nicely in a twisted low bun. Minimal makeup, just long lashes and mat lipstick in a dark burgundy color. She was wearing a black office suit set with a grey shirt under. She casually came under the door and listened to any sounds coming from the gap.

- Considering Kyungsoo will train and lead them, we can expect something new and satisfying... - he answered a question from a few seconds ago, but his tone sounded like he was not admitting it easily.

Then Choi opened the heavy door without any warning, walked inside, and closed it behind leaving Kim alone in the corridor...

When she entered, the silence fell in the studio. Kyungsoo rose and bowed his back:

- Director Choi -

The rest of the boys did the same. She casually moved to KyungSoo's site and turned to the Tempo members.

- Are you enjoying your time here? Do you find this session helpful? -

"YES!" They shouted together at once while raising clenched fists like they were ready for a battle.

- Good - Director smiled and turned to Kyungsoo - how do you see this? -

For some reason, they both started slowly moving to the vocal booth, without a word like they were sharing the same mind. - Doh Kyungsoo - saying his full name intended to speed up his answer. He smiled gently and while walking inside the vocal booth he started:

- They have talent but no technique. It will take a while, I'm not a vocal couch. Will practice with them the songs and explore their abilities to sound the best as it's possible on recordings, but they should start training now. They don't even know the vocal range...- and stopped because he realized Choi is laughing amused by his words - ...OK? -

- I apologize, it's just I'm still impressed even after many years. You grown tall Kyungsoo-yah - she looked at him in a way mother would look at her son and that made him speechless - I'm glad that I made you stay that day. You are the most irreplaceable person in this building. Come to think about it, do you still have this...trauma?.. - stopped. Is this the best word? Can she ask it directly? A few years ago saying the word "trauma" was like playing with fire. He looked into her eyes with disbelief. Then, calmed down as if this question never happened, looked at the microphone and the chair in the middle and almost whispered:

- I have no idea, to be honest... a lot is going on in my life and I somehow forgot about the past. But I like how I live now, thank you, again, for giving me a chance back then - he then gratefully smiled and bowed slightly.

- I will never forget when I found you on that floor backstage... also, I will never forget when you were the only candidate on casting who came with a Pen-drive, printed off lyrics and sang your own song. I knew I couldn't lose you back then...-

This silent second was long like an hour. Was the sliding in his lower eyelid tear a manifestation of joy or the terrific memories?

- If you ever wish to try again, please let me know. I won't be lying, as a director I wish to use all your capabilities for business purposes, but...as a friend... I just want you to be happy and not limited because of your fears. I'll help you, whenever you feel you are ready - her caring smile gave Kyungsoo comfort. "Thanks" he nodded head.

When she was about to open the door, she stopped and raised her hand:

- I remember! This is something I have learned today *ha ha ha*- laughed suddenly before even revealing the reason - Staff is calling you producer K.O. - and covered her laughing face by hand. Confused KyungSoo wasn't sure if he should laugh too:

- What does that mean? -

- I didn't know either, but apparently, K.O. in games means the final blow, and employees are saying you are always giving the final blow to every work - she still laughed like it's the best joke ever. This was surprising but not unpleasant. Kyungsoo felt like laughing too and they both came back to the control room in a good mood.

The next day, and the day after, and the day after, all were looking the same. Producer K.O. comes to work at 7 a.m. and finishes around 8 p.m. Eating, reading, or watching movies then sleeping and waking up again. On Thursday there was no difference.

This day was long. Kyungsoo had to train Tempo as apparently, no vocal couch was available at that moment because they were in different cities and different branches. JJE was big enough so they could afford to employ additional staff, but it seems the recruitment and planning team missed this one job role in their plans and now they are blaming the low budget for short-staffing.

After this long day, at 5 p.m., Kyungsoo was still in the studio. He was working on the song he came up with 3 days ago, recording his voice, but not in the vocal booth, just sitting comfortably in his chair in the control room.

The doors opened, he didn't even have time to turn around when he heard:

- Kyungsoo-yah! - it was Chanyeol, waving his hand and smiling like a baby.

- How's it going? - at the same time slapped friends back. Then, Kyungsoo swung his elbow just in the center of Chanyeol's belly, but just touched to scare him, and it worked, his friend jumped back and started laughing.

- How are things? All good?-

- Yeah, I think so. Been buckling down for the last 4 days - raised his hands and stretched his back as much as he could.

- What about you? -

- Umm...nothing really, SeoJung and WSS are a pain in my butt, but we're fine with May now, so nothing will destroy my great mood. What about YiSeul? -

Silence...

Kyungsoo just realized he didn't have any contact with her for 3 days. He was so knackered after work that he was managing only to send a Goodnight message...has she replied at all? He grabbed his mobile phone and started searching. She didn't...then he looked at Chanyeol who was standing with folded hands and gazing at his friend with disbelief.

- That's not good, is it? Instead of sitting here pointlessly, you should call her. Maybe she's mad, I would definitely be...- Kyungsoo grabbed the phone and ran to the corridor while pressing CALL.

ONE SIGNAL

TWO SIGNALS

THREE SIGNALS

- Finally, huh? - she answered...

He was in such a shock that couldn't construct the sentences. He didn't believed she answered... And why he didn't think about her in those 3 days? How selfish is he? She's angry, definitely angry...

- Y..YiSeul...apologies, I had loads of work to do...- "It's fine, I knew" she interrupted...

But what is this feeling of disappointment? Why is she not upset? Why is she supportive? He has done wrong! He is the worst boyfriend and yet, she is not angry.

Something seems off.

He knew it but didn't want to let this thought disturb his mind now.

- Are you happy to spend time with me tomorrow? I mean...I will work only 5 hours, most of the job is done. Do you want to go on a trip to an amusement park? -

- Why not? Sure! - she almost shouted into the phone and this made him satisfied. Then he came back to the studio where Chanyeol was waiting impatiently to joke around about this situation.

What a joyful day is waiting for you Kyungsoo-yah...

[syngrafaes09]

Strange Nights | Vampire! Dr Strange x Y/n

Logline: After Y/N gets imprinted by a vampire Dr Strange, living under a fictive identity, they must unravel the cause behind her constant misadventures before their hopes are crushed forever.

Masterlist

Chapter 17 : Lost in Memory

Warnings: Nudity

"I had told you to get her here safely." He stormed into the library. "Were you insane?"

The corners of his lips tipped to a smirk. "After all these years," his ashen fingers, tracing the spines of the book, moved swiftly like his body, "of intimacy, do you really want me to answer that?" He brushed the wayward lock of hair away from his face.

Stephen begrudgingly glared at him. "What did you get out of their minds?"

"If you aren't going to let us use some of our powers, might you wanna clean the dust or let us get out of this place?" The doors and windows rattled to life as the dust made its way out of the lair. 

"Finally," Wanda breathed into the library, "some fresh air. By the way, congratulation, you messed up another spell."

"Oh no, I didn't. It was intentional," Stephen calmly replied as the three of them settled into armchairs.

"Got what you were after?"

"Not precisely." Stephen was annoyed and disappointed. The masters of the sanctums were laying waste to the insurmountable pains he took - to build all those sanctums - to minimize multiversal travels. "They thought it was a random power surge - some uncontrolled witch. Didn't feel serious enough to investigate. They have been briefly documenting such incidents. But I did find out that a similar surge had happened here in 2034 and 2035."

"Y/N was born in 2035," Wanda notes vehemently.

This was getting way more complicated than any of them had imagined. Either the travellers were dead or had returned. The more onus possibility being them still in this universe. 

"They must have come for her then too. That makes sense why Mathew had that fake memory. Y/N's mother, Stephen, she knew what was happening. That's why she left this place with her all those years back."

"Then why didn't she go back to her coven?" Loki pondered. "As far I can remember Jean was a lame witch. And the child then wasn't a woman of power."

"The child we saw was Rachael. Not Y/N," Stephen corrected. "And that lame witch managed to hide her from The Council for all these years. What buried memories does Y/N possess?"

"Loki couldn't get much out of her," Wanda mused. Stephen raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? I thought you were the best." Huffs of laughter whispered over.

"There were numerous barriers. It took some time to get through some of them. Her memories weren't manipulated - except for one from a few weeks back - and she does have a memory of her and Jane leaving but nothing of what led to it."

"And Matt's original memory?"

"It was made up. No alteration or deletion."

"What about Y/N's?"

"It wasn't implanted properly. It kept changing." It was some buoyant optimism in their drowning river of problems. When tried harder to recall, there was a hope of getting the exact memory back.

Y/N blinked her eyes open. She had a murky recollection of last night's events. A part of her believed they were too fanciful to be real but a glance around the room said it wasn't. She shifted her feet off the bed and called out for Wanda. When there was no response, she called out again, louder this time. A prickly sensation of fear crept up her neck after she examined the ominous hallway. There seemed no sound of life save for the hooting of owls. And a burble of water?

Leaving the hall, she walked to the bathroom door and paused to listen. There was no sound coming from beyond, not at the moment at least. "Hello?" she bit her lip, hesitating at the doorknob when silence was the only answer.

The door slid open to reveal the neat, white marble countertop with the sink in it, then a toilet, and finally the tub itself. Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw Stephen lying still in the large tub. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes fanning over the marble-like skin of his cheeks and his face an inch above the water level. 

He couldn't have died, could he? Wanda did mention that they weren't immortals. Alarmed she rushed to his side and dropped to her haunches as she reached instinctively to grab his shoulder, though what she'd intended to do, Y/N couldn't say. There was no way she could lift him out of the water by herself. Fortunately, there was no need. The moment she touched him, Stephen's eyes shot open. He went from all sleepy to sharp in a heartbeat. 

His face was furious and white. She gasped and squirmed as his fingers curled around her throat. She closed her eyes unable to meet his strange, frightening gaze. Her mind went over what had happened. She had startled a vampire - he was the predator and she was his prey.

"Be still," he said in a harsh voice. "I might not be able to control myself if you step away."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her heart still beating in erratic syncopation. His fingers loosened, letting her go. For a moment she had to fight down the revulsion and stay as still as he required. 

He was downplaying his instincts - trying to play her dead so the predator in him lost interest in its prey. Her eyes slowly opened and he knew what she saw. Avid hunger. He saw the fear in her eyes growing by leaps and bounds. He was proud of her bravery to manage remaining still.

"What had happened? And don't startle me like that ever again." His voice was gruff, and his expression dark with concern. 

Y/N stared, suddenly unable to speak as her gaze slid over his wide chest and dropped of its own accord down to where he disappeared below the bubbles that filled the tub. She was surprised that he would have bubbles in his bath, and also a bit disappointed at how it blocked her view of what they hid. The sight of him was filling her mind with images that made her face flush, but not with embarrassment.

"Now, I would have loved to do that but the bath has long grown cold. What went wrong?"

She stood from where she'd been kneeling and abruptly turned her back to him. Then she gave herself a mental slap - vampire and wizard, she ought to be careful around him - and forced herself to speak.

"Nothing's wrong. I called out, but nobody answered. Then came into the bathroom and saw you. I was worried you were dead or something."

"You were worried about me?" She was bemused at his surprise. Surely anyone would be worried. "I assure you, it will take more than that to kill me." 

His amusement faded as he took her form - damp black hair, her flush cheeks, eyes averting once they drift away from his face to more interesting bits, her small torso drowned in the grey shirt - his shirt he noted. She looked so small and lost; he wanted to have her in his arms and make everything right.

"Why were you here?" Her question broke his stupor. "What does it seem to you?" Y/N simply shrugged. "I was taking a bath and then fell asleep." She frowned. "Who sleeps their bath?"

"I was tired," he groaned, massaging his forgotten stiff neck. "Y/N, I want to get out of this bath. If you don't wanna see anything you might want or not... Besides, I can hear Wanda coming up the driveway. You should have your curiosity quenched by her."

"She won't explain to me much about magic and what's happening."

There was a soft splash as he shifted in the tub to reach for the towel lying on the floor, then he said with exasperation, "Then ask her what she will answer."

"So you eat just like normal people? No dietary restrictions?" Y/n asked, in the expanse of which Wanda managed to clear the table and clean the dishes. "We do have restrictions. Very high protein, mostly meat, is off-limits. They are pretty hard to digest and escalate cell aging. Carbos are the best."

"You age?" She had mentioned they weren't immortals but Y/n hadn't expected them to be growing old like other humans.

"Yes though at a very, very slow rate. We are after all a subspecies of the human race. That's what Bruce said. I didn't get most of the scientific stuff those men were discussing."

"No worries, I get it. You are some mutated version of us," Y/N concluded, following Wanda out of the kitchen. "Tell me how it started."

"Remember about the clash between Tony and Steve?" Wanda inquired.

"Yeah, was it over some European accord. I don't remember quite well the stories dad told me about you all." 

"Sokovian Accords. Some of us agreed, others didn't. Then Steve found his long-lost friend Bucky. Turned out he was a brainwashed super-soldier who had killed Tony's parents. Tony was devastated. So we fought each other. I was on Steve's side, we lost."

"Then how come you ended up here?"

"After we lost, we were imprisoned. Once we broke out, we got split up to lay low. It was during this that Hope's father tried to retrieve his wife from a quantum realm. Now don't ask me what it that, 'cause I don't know."Y/n nodded. "His wife had contracted a zombie virus over there. That's how it got spread over our world."

"But you all had fixed it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we did. Vis had this stone on his forehead called the Mind stone. It set out a certain frequency to keep the zombies at bay."

"Wait, he-"

"He isn't like the rest of us. He is a synthezoid, an advanced android who can replicate human form." She continued her tale of Vision finding her after the nonfugitive team of avengers had turned into zombies trying to fight them, how they came across Hope and went to Wakanda to remove the stone from his body to tap into its full potential to reverse the zombie infection.

"The stories can wait, Wanda, try making her remember what's important," Loki announced as they entered the library.

"Vampire senses," Y/N muttered under her breath. "As good as spidey senses, with blood drawing bites," Loki added.

"Then why didn't you hear when I called out?" she snapped.

"As far as all my senses can tell, you were calling out for Wanda not me," he corrected with a smirk. Eyeing him wearily she huffed.  

[nyx22-blogs]

A/N: It's 12:01 in the morning and I'm sick so what am I doing instead of resting like a normal human being? I'm writing fanfiction. Who am I writing for? Bucky. Why am I writing for Bucky? Because my sick ass needs comfort.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The stages of yours and Bucky's relationship:

How you two first met:

You were a new techie that had been called in by Tony Stark. You were really smart, amazing at your job really. So Tony called you in to get some help & advice on a new project he'd been working on. The project was a certain super soldiers arm. After working on it, Tony asked you to give Bucky his new arm, to which you happy obliged. You knocked on Bucky's door, and you were greeted with a very tired looking man. It was safe to say that Bucky was surprised by your presence and you definitely intrigued him. He hoped to see more of you around the compound. That was how you met the supposedly scary, brooding supersoldier.

How you two became friends:

Everyone knew Bucky wasn't the type to have friends, for the exception of Steve. Something everyone else also knew was that Bucky had a soft spot for you, even though he'd never admit it. Bucky had awoken from a nightmare and decided to go to the kitchen and make some coffee for himself. He was surprised to find you there, awkward grin on your face as you said hi to him. You offered him some water, saying it'd be better than coffee. He happily took it and the two of you just spoke for the remainder of the night. You dozed off on the kitchen floor with Bucky after a while and you woke up on your bed. You smiled warmly, knowing it was him who brought you back and tucked you in. You two were definitely closer after that...friends if you dared.

The first date:

Bucky wasn't the kind of guy he used to be in the 40's. Unfortunately he wasn't as bold or flirtatious as he was back then. So when he wanted to ask you out on a date, he was a nervous wreck. He was so desperate he even asked Sam for some advice, very embarrassed may I mention. You were just coming back from a meeting with one of shields head technologists when you found Bucky waiting for you outside the door. "Hey Y/N.." "Hey Bucky..you okay?" "Yea..I was uhm wondering if I could uhmm..ask you something?" "Of course" you smiled at him, trying to ease his nerves. "Could I take you out on a date, Y/N?" "Bucky..I'd love that" you smiled and walked up to him and hugged him.

How you two officially became a couple:

That first date Bucky had asked you out on? It eventually turned into a second date, which turned into the third, and fourth and so on. The fifth date however, is the one you'll remember forever. You and Bucky had decided that a date in your apartment would be nicer than anything else right now. Especially since it was raining profoundly. You two were watching an old horror movie, and you started to doze off a bit. Bucky had noticed your tired eyes and decided to take off the movie and carry you to your bed. He laid you down on your bed and started to make his way out when you called for him. "Wait, please stay." You said drowsily. "You sure doll?" "Yeah I wanna cuddle with my boyfriend." You said. "Your boyfriend?" Bucky said smirking. "Well..would you be..?" "Hmm..I don't know..." He said, now teasing you. He climbed in the bed with you and started to tickle you with butterfly kisses. "I'd love to be your boyfriend." He whispered in your ear.

The first I love you:

You and Bucky were cleaning your now shared house, just a casual Saturday. You were wiping the windows..well trying to. They were too high and you couldn't reach the top. You brought a small stool over to the countertop and started to climb but the window was still too high. "Hey sweetheart have you seen the Lysol spray?" Bucky said as he walked into the kitchen. "Huh?" You said, not quite hearing him as you were still trying to reach the damn window. "Uh doll, you need help?" Bucky asked, trying not to laugh at you. "That'd be nice thanks." You said stepping off the stool. He picked you up from your waist and lifted you so you could reach the window. Afterwards he put you down and you hugged him. "Thanks baby" "Of course sweet girl." "I love you." You said humming into his chest. "I- I love you too Y/N"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

A/N: Yes or no? Personally this made me feel better so enjoy 😂

[canibereborn]

*edited the prompt slightly for story's sake.*

"I'm not going back out there. I was happy here."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"I do."

"I said I'm not going back out there."

"I know. You don't have to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Promise. I'm Matthias."

Her bag instantly hit the floor. A clunk collided with the wood almost in relief that she could even let the bag slip from her finger. She looked like she was about to break down but whatever tears escaped her ducts made their way back into her eyes. Finally.

This was it. She fell to her knees. She was home. It's over. Her shoulder's ached, her legs were tired, her own heart felt like it had been a teenager's favorite shirt dragged through the dirty pond. Home. She kept thinking that in her head. Home. She was finally, finally, home.

"Do you, do you have anything I could maybe. I don't know. Eat?"

The man grabbed her bag from out of the doorway and stepped to the side to let her in. She walked in cautiously, scanning the room. She looked around at the furniture, the sofa, the kitchen, like a stealthy panther that had finally been returned to the wild.

"Do you like fish?"

"Fish?"

"She made some last night. Leftovers. There's no more sides. But if you want it, then it's yours."

"Thank you. Thank you."

He locked the door and set her bag on the sofa. He walked to the fridge as she pulled a chair out and sat at the table. She rubbed her palms into the table and examined the potted plant in the center of it. It looked alive and well.

"Did you get these for her?"

"Yeah. I did. Valentine's Day. We had a date." He closed the fridge.

"That's nice."

"Yeah." He looks at the plates and grabs one from the dish rack. He places it on the countertop and places two pieces of salmon on it before putting it into the microwave. "You didn't know? It was this past Wednesday."

"No, I knew. I just thought it was nice of you."

"She'll be back home late tonight."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind waiting here. If that's okay."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know."

He grabbed her a fork and set it next to her plate. She looked at him and thanked him. He took a seat in the chair in front of her and looked at her as she ate. She ate fast and conscientiously. He placed his hands under his chin, fingers interlocked, and watched her eat.

"You're strong. For finding your way back."

"Maybe."

"You know she told me about you."

"Really? What'd she say?"

"She missed you. A lot."

Her face stayed strong and she picked up her fork and kept eating. But she had heard him. He looked at her worried. She was so small. So skinny. Her hair was dyed a bright and bleached orange. Her eyes were beady and black. Tired. Watery.

"Can I ask you something?" He said.

"Yeah. Sure."

"How'd you know?"

"How'd I know to find my way back?"

"She thought you were gone forever. It was all over the news. God. I thought you were."

"I heard there was a lot of people looking for me. Even after he was arrested. He's dead now though, right?"

"Yeah. And she didn't stop."

"She didn't?"

"She still does. Never slept well."

"I shouldn't have." she trailed off. "I shouldn't have doubted it."

"Hm?"

"It's nothing."

He looked at her as she dropped her fork on the plate. Clean as if it was fresh out of the dishwashing machine. He stood up, picked it up, and threw it into the large double compartment sink. Afterwards he scooted up his chair back underneath the table and walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's just."

"No, you don't have to say anything. I get it."

"What time will she be home?"

"Late. You should shower. I could go and find you some new clothes."

"You sure? I don't want to just. Burden you."

"Ana. This is your home too. You belong here."

After hearing that she got up slowly and walked underneath his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and she fell into him. He led her to the shower and told her he'd get her a change of clothes. He closed the door and left. Ana looked at herself in the mirror, examining her frayed ends and her dirty teeth, smelling herself. Shortly after she began undressing.

Ana was 17 when they took her. It was just them two at the time. Her and her adoptive mother. That was almost 5 years ago. It all looked the same. Exactly how she remembered it. Part of her wondered if her mother was even still here when the policeman dropped her off. She got lucky, she felt. So unbelievably lucky.

After she got out of the shower she wiped the fog in the mirror and looked at herself one more time. Wet orange hair. There was makeup on the counter and she looked at them. It was hers. She picked up a mascara brush. All black. Maybelline. It didn't looked used since she left. She opened it, leaned into the mirror, and put it against her eyelashes. Then a timid knock on the door.

"You okay in there?"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"I left a change of clothes by the door. Your room is still the same as she left it. If you wanted to see it."

"Thank you. I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time." His footsteps receded down the hall into the master bedroom.

She wrapped a towel from the door around her skinny body. She was bony and her cheeks were caving. She hated it. She put on her makeup and she looked at herself after. It was a stranger. The residuals of her life up until this point began to slowly crack and corrode. It wasn't the future she saw anymore. She knew she may never be a normal girl, but she hoped she could go back to living a normal life. It felt both promising and impossible.

After she was done she unlocked the door and stepped outside. Walking down the hallway to the master bedroom, her toes feeling the carpet floors, she noticed the baby blue walls had more photos than before. Photos of her mother and Matthias. But the pictures of her when she was in high school were all still there. Matthias sat on his bed on his phone. Soon as he saw her in the doorway he turned it off and sat up and walked up to her.

"Make up."

"Yeah"

"It looks good."

"Thanks."

"You want me to come with you?"

"You don't mind do you?"

"Never. I want to be here for you. Both of you."

"Thank you. I know it's weird. You heard so much about me but I don't know a thing about you. I'm being kind of awkward. I'm sorry."

Matthias held his hand up above her shoulder. He was waited for approval before he touched her. The solemn look of acceptance on her face was the all the approval he needed. He put his hand on her shoulder. He looked into her eyes. Her lashes spread out like black wings covered in the mascara. They looked wide. Her pupils. And they darted back and forth before looking into his.

"We have all the time for that later. For now, I want you to be selfish. I want you to tell me what you need. I might not be able to be there for you like your mom could, I know that, but I'll be here even then."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay."

"Come on. She hadn't touched a thing since you left." They begin walking down the hall together towards her room. Her name hung on a sign dangling from a protruding nail on her door. "I texted her. I hope you don't mind. I was going to call her but she said she couldn't talk right now. I think she might've left work early to come see you."

"She's coming now?"

"That's okay right?"

"Yeah. That's okay."

He grabbed the knob of her door and twisted it open in front of her. He walked ahead of her to hold it open to the side and allow her to walk in. A second passes. Then a few more. She stood there, awed not by only the bed she used to sleep on or the dressers with her clothes in it, but the flood of memories that stole her. The thought that this was her new home intermingled with the vividity of her captivity. It felt heavy. Profound.

"Well? Go on." He urged her. "It might take a while to get used to. I know. But it's yours."

She walked in and started pacing around the room. The tiniest details stuck out to her like a chrysanthemum surfacing out of a sun-dried street. The rust on the corners of the frame of the bed that shied underneath the edges of the comforter. The scratches on the dresser. They were all still there.

By the time the sun had set in a blood red sky she had been in her room. Her door was closed. Locked. Matthias kept his door open and he was using his computer spending time online looking at articles and watching videos about abduction survivors. His headphones were big and bulky. One ear covered by the cushion of it and the other open. That's when he heard it.

The front door jangled with a vehemence. A rush of copper teeth penetrated the keyhole and the door swung open. When he heard the keyring dancing he jumped up and the house felt ablaze. A voice boomed in the doorway. Desperate and quail, the voice, calling out her name in coarse tears. Ana. Ana. I'm home, it said. Matthias rushed to meet her.

"Tessa. Babe."

"Where is she? I need to see her. I need to see her now."

"Hey, hey, hey, she's okay. She's in her room."

"Ana! Baby!"

She rushed through Matthias who quickly followed her. They stormed down the hall, passing the open bathroom, the pictures on the wall were audience to her frantics, the master bedroom ajar with the computer screen on, all the way to the door with Ana's name hanging loosely in front of it. She stopped for a moment. Then she knocked. Ana opened the door and looked at her. She covered her mouth at the sight of this miracle.

"Oh my god."

"Mom."

"Oh my god. Baby, come here."

She held her head in close to her breasts. She kissed her flaming orange hair. She grabbed her cheeks and held them hostage in her palms. She scalpeled her way into her eyes, looking at the makeup on her face. She called her beautiful. She called her a miracle. Her eyes were welling with an uncontrollable flood. She brought her head back into her breasts.

Her baby. She kept saying it, over and over again. Kept bringing her in closer and closer. And Ana hugged her back. Tessa reached her arms out to Matthias and though it was awkward for him he came in and held them both tightly. She just needed him there. They were going to be okay. They knew it wasn't going to be easy.

After all this time her daughter had become a woman. She may not ever truly comprehend the horrors of what happened but she wanted to. She made plans to visit a therapist with her. She planned to hold her hand every step of the way. And it was finally happening. Long, grueling, dark nights. They seemed to be worth it. Home. Finally. She was home.

"I'm not going back with you. I'm finally happy here. I can't give that up."

"I understand."

[suna-reversed]

Talking to the moon🌙

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

minors DNI‼️

3k+ words

(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)

warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)

Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.

You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.

You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 

You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 

In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.

On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.

You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 

Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.

Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.

Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.

This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 

That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?

The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.

The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.

What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?

That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.

His initials and a crescent moon.

You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.

--------

You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 

The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.

Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 

It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.

His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,

“Who did this to you?”

You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,

“Consider this a warning.”

You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.

Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.

“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”

The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 

“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”

The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.

“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 

His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 

He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 

He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 

“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 

“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.

Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 

“Make it stop please.”

---

Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.

You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 

You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 

“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”

His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 

It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 

You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 

You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.

“...I promise.”

---

When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.

Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 

But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 

In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 

“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 

—-

“At least I kept my promise.” 

It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 

“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”

He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.

-----

“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  

“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 

“What are you two talking about?”

You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 

“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 

“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 

“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”

“I know- I made it!”

A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 

“I-I do actually want to ask for something”

“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”

“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 

“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”

You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 

“You don’t have to if you-”

“Pick me up at 4”

“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 

------

Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 

Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.

You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 

You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.

------

“I’ll be back in just a second.” 

You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 

“Is everything okay?’ 

He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.

You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 

Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 

He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.

He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 

Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 

it didn’t matter now. 

perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[knucklehoagie]

caved

i have to tell you i had a naughty dream about joe and i have never wanted to go back into a dream more than this morning i have never ever had that experience before i am so sad why is he so pretty

TW: it was one of those things where he chose me over someone else we were living with and we kept having to sneak around

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

'you goin’ out?' he looked over to his girlfriend standing in the hallway, her bag was on her shoulder and her sunglasses perched on her head. her shoes were already on. 'joe, i told you yesterday.' she pouted, her manicured fingers brought her sunglasses over her eyes and she opened the door.

you pretended not to listen from around the corner, neck bent slightly as you mindlessly thumbed through your phone, leaning against the white countertop. you felt your heartbeat deepen in your chest.

'ah, that's right,' he smiled back. 'your friend was in town, was it..?' 'she's only here for tonight so i thought we would go to dinner together,' a lucky guess? you bit your lip. 'i knew you would forget.' shit. a beat of awkward silence, and she sighed. 'just don’t wait up, alright? i probably won't be home until late.' he approached her, giving her a puppy-dog expression. 'i'm sorry baby. i'll see you tonight, yeah?' he brushed her hand and brought her fingers to his lips, giving her a sweet, soft kiss. whatever sourness her expression had turned to a small smile, her cheeks flushed. 'i'll see you tonight.'

you swallowed, feeling your heartbeat quicken as from the corner of your eye they exchanged a quick peck on the lips. you could feel the pit in your stomach grow as her heels clicked on the concrete step. he closed the door behind her with a smile and locked the padlock as the sound of her car buzzed off into the distance.

you locked your phone and set it on the counter next to your hip, looking up in time to see him casually walk around the cabinets to look at you. his hands were in his pockets and he took slow, meandering steps toward you with the beginnings of a smirk sliding along his soft, beautiful lips. his hair had gotten longer, the curly blonde mess no longer sat coiled on his head but fell in golden waves along his ears, over the side of his forehead, and twisted its way along his temples. he was close enough now to look down at you, your thighs almost touching.

so, maybe he hadn't actually lied. joe must have been waiting for her to leave, and he had been waiting to get you all to himself. this wasn't the first time he had let his affections be known. a couple weeks ago you got home from working late, the house had been dark when you pulled up and you had tried to be as quiet as possible while you cleaned up and headed for bed. you'd just finished dressing into your pajamas and were brushing the tangles from your hair when he knocked on your bedroom door. you had been roommates with him and his girlfriend for a year or so but just thought he was a really flirty and charismatic person, it never occurred to you he was actually interested in you until that night. you remember opening your door and looking into his gentle, chocolate colored eyes for what seemed like forever before he had leaned in, placed his hand softly under your ear and along your jaw and slowly gave you the sweetest kiss you had ever received on your lips. as he pulled away and looked into your eyes he appeared so serious, but so desperate. you had so many thoughts running through your head you weren't able to say a word. but, you hadn't said no. you didn't want to say no. as his other hand met the other side of your face he pulled you back in for another sweet kiss, followed with another, and another, accelerating in speed and intensity until the both of you were on your bed with the door shut. nothing more had happened. after his lips had tasted yours, your cheeks, your neck, he left your bedroom and closed the door behind him leaving you more confused than before. your vibrator got quite the work out that night.

ever since that experience you struggled to look him in the face for longer than half a second without feeling your whole body tense. you caught him multiple times staring at you from across the room, you could see him watch your mouth as you talked. he would lick his lips, look away, clear his throat, and continue on like nothing was amiss. but this time, things were different. his girlfriend was gone now, for hours, and you had no idea what was going through his mind.

you looked back up at him, right into his deep brown eyes, and your breath caught in your chest. his eyelids were heavy as he looked down at you and studied your face. you felt your cheeks get hot, you felt the heat between your legs. you could see the desire from behind his lips as he smiled, smug. he had been waiting for this moment and you could see it in his expression, drenched in a soft, hungry yearning. he bit his lip and leaned forward against you so your legs were intertwined, standing against the counter. he had you pinned.

'hey,' he said softly. you felt your knees almost buckle, the heat in your cheeks must have turned your whole face red. he still had a sly smirk, the beginnings of a beard etched itself along his jawline and up his cheeks, down onto his strong, broad neck. you felt dizzy taking in his features as the hot light of the late afternoon made him glow like a golden god.

you caved, defeated, and covered your face with your hands, leaning forward and resting your forehead gently down to his chest, groaning with embarrassment. the sensation of his warm, strong body behind the smooth texture of his shirt didn't make this moment any easier for you, there wasn't anything about joe that didn't make you turn completely into putty.

his chest moved slightly with a gentle chuckle and he reached his hands up to your wrists. he placed a single kiss on the top of your head and pulled your hands away from your face, pushing you back against the counter to stand up straight and face him. you wanted to cry, his eyes turned to honey in the sunlight. you watched him look down to your lips and felt your heart absolutely ache with longing, your whole body was hot with the wet agony of desire.

he pulled your hands to the sides of his face and held them on his jawline as he leaned into you, like you were the one bringing him closer. his beard was coarse against your hands, his breath was sweet on your lips, and as you met in a sickeningly tender kiss you couldn't help but let out a whispering moan through your nose.

his energy turned electric after hearing you and he involuntarily pressed his hips against you, you could feel the beginnings of his erection through his jeans. you could tell he was trying to remain sweet with you but his lips quivered against yours and his breathing was suddenly rough and hungry. your head was spinning.

'i can't - control myself - around you,' he said in between cautious kisses, trying to remain composed, holding himself back. 'i thought she would never leave, i have been waiting so long.'

you moaned against his mouth and brought your hand to the back of his head in response, pressing his lips harder against yours. you slid your fingers between his curls and when your teeth clashed together he bucked his hips again, he wanted you so bad and you didn't understand, it all seemed to come from nowhere. you felt drunk, you felt dizzy and like everything was buzzing around you. his tongue ran itself against yours and when he sighed as you licked him back you felt the heat so strong between your legs you could have finished without him even touching you. his voice was an aphrodisiac on its own, but hearing those noises come from him, from just kissing him, was downright pornographic.

then he paused, his nose resting against yours. he was out of breath and his eyes gazed into yours, drowsy, drunk on the taste of you. his erection was pressed tight against your thigh, his arms held his body up against the counter on either side of your torso. you could feel his heartbeat, you could smell his shampoo. he was catching his breath as he apologized.

'its too fast,' he said, almost like he was talking out loud. for a second you thought you had done something wrong, you searched his expression for frustration or anger but found only remorse as he pulled himself away from your lips and to the side of your face. 'oh...but i can't help myself,' you could feel his chest rumble as he spoke low and soft. he placed slow, deliberate kisses along your jawline and started to leave a trail down your neck. his pace was maddening, his lips were velvet against your skin and you stifled a shudder at the sensation of his breath on your throat. his hands made their way up your back, one arm hugged around your torso and the other rested on the back of your neck, hot against your skin, holding you as if to take a bite.

'joe...' you breathed, barely audible, dizzy with desire. 'mmm?' he hummed against your throat in response, like you were interrupting important business. he was being so sweet to you it made you want to cry. his affection was so unprovoked and unexpected, but at the same time he was being so honest and passionate...there had to be something you were missing. there had to be something that went over your head, something you had said to him...what had you done to get so lucky? you realized no one had ever showed you a love like this and your heart suddenly felt incredibly empty, but full at the same time. the tears pooled rapidly and you didn't have time to wipe them away before he noticed. 'hey, hey, hey,' he whispered, standing up to look at your eyes. he searched them for answers, wiping tears away with his thumb as he delicately held your face in his hands. 'did i do something wrong?'

[nyantry]

Forgive me.

If there was one thing angel ears heard, it was prayers. He said nothing, but the words and the emotion behind them reached deep in his soul, right where it mattered the most. It wasn't his place to forgive her; that wasn't what she needed from him. He could, however, keep his promise — the same vow he'd made before Samael: to save Nico. Dmitry was not consciously aware of this calling he'd accepted, but he nonetheless acted on it in everything he did.

Even in suffering. Even in his patience while Nico figured things out. He was patient with Nico and he was gentle, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt.

Nova saw it: he loved Nico.

The way she warned him about Nico was received as approval. Oh, he knew she meant it, he knew it was serious. But it also sounded, to him, like approval. He gave her a soft grin and crossed his heart with his pinky finger in the most serious of promises. "I'll love him forever, no matter what. Forever."

Nova was right; there was conflict. But Dmitry did mean his words seriously, too. It was no idle promise, no joke. He had framed it with the lighthearted demeanor he often kept, but he meant it as seriously as he loved the stars. Whether Nico would be able to understand it in the future, even through his self-exile in Russia, he loved. The anger would come from love, from the refusal to let go; not out of rejection nor hate.

Dmitry tilted his head, listening to her request for the rosary and the Bibles. That made sense, too, though he almost hadn't been expecting it either. He remembered distantly that Nico had once mentioned how she'd tried to teach him. He reached for her hands again, to comfort her, and to get her attention. He felt the turmoil, and he still wasn't sure what sort of withdrawals to expect her to go through, either.

"Let me help you. Please?" His voice was still quiet, still soft. This was for her, but it was also for himself. He couldn't just stand and watch someone suffer if there was anything he could do to help. He was calm enough that hopefully it would help her too. He didn't himself realize, but part of the urge to reach for her hands was that, in the same way he often accidentally bled his own feelings into others through physical touch when overwhelmed, he could do with the calm.

Now, her actual request. He nodded. "I have something for you, gimme a sec."

Just like that, he wandered off to look through his things and pulled out a drawstring pouch. He pulled the top open and took her hand gently, emptying the contents into it. "This is sentimental, don't go using it for rituals or nothing. It's for you; I'd have given it to him but... So I'm giving it to you, so you know I meant what I said earlier. This one's the one I was holding one night after... doing something I needed to do. I was feeling all sorts of ways, and he just... He understood. That night, he kissed me. I'll never forget the way he kissed me. That's why this one matters."

The night on the hill. Even now he still kept the rosary he'd had in his hands then, beads colored with dried blood he'd never dared clean off. It was special. It deserved to be kept.

Then he dug through his pockets and found another rosary, this one less elaborate, more basic. Still blessed, the both of them; he always took care to have them blessed. He gave her the second rosary with a nod. "This one's fair game."

As for the Bibles, he sat on the countertop like she had done earlier and took another drink from the bottle. "Interesting choice in translations. Vulgate, yeah, classic. Gonna take me a while to find but I can get one in print for you." He quickly texted Nico to ask if he was getting Nova a phone, and 'actually just add that to the list if you didn't already'. "Now, mine's in Russian, it's... I figured it would keep Nico from actually reading it by mistake. Told him what it is, of course, but I figured if he can't read it to begin with then it might not be as bad as if it were in English? So I gotta actually get ya the other two. I have to ask, why King James and Douay-Rheims? They're similar. I guess the deuterocanon isn't in the King James, but you can technically get one with it included. I'll get you both though, I'm just curious. Those I can get today. What else do you need?"

And then an afterthought. "Why Niccolo? I mean, his name. Why Niccolo?"

A woman like that- "Behind every strong woman is a story that gave her no other choice."

Dmitry let the silence be. That in of itself was something valuable. Others hound. Others try to force details. Others guilt offended they're not trusted with those details. Nova's not against some of her tale being told, but there's always a parts she keeps to herself. She'd tell her doctors, "That's between me, them, and God now."

When he motioned for the bottle she'd pass it, but not before taking another glug.

Now was a moment to learn about the boy that was purple with her son. She watched his expression carefully. He didn't even hesitate. No. No regrets. He wasn't speaking loud, but it felt big. It made an impression. He didn't just speak about Nico. He opened up about his prior pain. There was a discord in this one. Purple meant happiness not just a step they can't take back. That was a refreshing answer.

The next answer didn't go as smoothly, but it was just as eye opening as his voice lowered than it already was.

He looked so young. His words were wiser than the youth on his face. There was pain there, but it was voluntary pain. Nova would consider it the sort only mothers know. But, as she looked upon him she started to realize even though she had no such person in her life it was also the pain of lovers because it was love. It was the ugly side of love. It was sacrifice.

She realized too just in those few words Dmitry briefed her on she was getting pulled back in in a way she hoped would never happen. But, she could feel it coming. Damage control was going to mean more sacrifice.

She closed her eyes and mouthed silently the words, "Forgive me." It was like a prayer as she projected her thoughts into the future already worried about what she might have to do.

She didn't know what to say to that. She just looked at him and because she loved her son she couldn't focus on the negative in his actions. What good would that do? She ended up with, "Well then, I think you love my son. I think you see it's a door that once opened doesn't close again. That's enough." The Murmur situation was tough.

She thought about Dmitry's words. What he revealed to her was Murmur did have him scared. He was scared enough to not hold his ground. He was scared enough to believe that too push meant it could push Nico away. No. There were worse things that could happen to Dmitry besides getting killed. It was what their lives could become if Nico kept walking that path.

She was so mad at herself for not being there. She was trying to keep the door closed. It was killing her the door got opened. Gates flung wide open. Pandora's box.

What else she found out from this conversation was there was conflict in her son's relationship whether her son would admit it now or not. This wasn't hers to get into. For her purposes as a mother she knew no matter how the relationship unfolded she had to be there for Nico. She truly was liking this Dmitry person so far though. She was clicking with him and in her heart of hearts was hoping it'd work out. All a mother ever wants is for their kid to be happy. That said with being a realist Nova's still couldn't stop herself from saying this.

"I hope it's strong enough to last. I hope you mean that. I do. You just made yourself purple with him, a royal color, and Hell's royalty has vowed him a seat at the table with kings before he was born. I already destroyed his life by getting caught once. His trials have already started. I'm his mother. I was supposed to protect him. Hope you see it through. I don't have time for more set backs. Neither does he. Demons thrive in doubt. I won't fail him again."

She was scared. But if that wasn't the father with a shot gun and hope your intentions are good with my daughter moment only in Nova mode, then one didn't exist. She was glaring, but she was also softer and more kind, still trying to make a point.

"I need a rosarie." Her hands weren't steady. She wasn't sure if it was nerves from the conversation or withdrawls, but she looked down at them and noticed. "C-can you touch them? Nicky can't touch them."

It wasn't something she put on her list for Nico. She knew better. "Ever since he was little. It's how I knew for sure. Please? But, I need one. Maybe more things he can't handle. If you can? I need a Bible. King St James version, Douay-Rheims, and The Latin Vulgate-"

She paused to see his answer while her mind was reeling before she spewed off more of a list. She couldn't leave the grounds. Being dependent on others was starting to feel suffocating. She needed to get up and do.

[marchtothefuckingsea]

Ace of Clubs: Chapter VII

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Word Count:2.1k Warnings: Canon violence (if any).

bit of a filler chapter, but fluffy

Recap:  

 "Yeah." I agreed hesitantly. "Yeah, I guess so. Okay." I took as deep of a breath as my ribs would allow me, reining in the hurricane of emotions running through me. I didn't miss how he said 'we' and not 'you'.

"You're welcome to stay here, as long as you need." He said, opening the door and standing to the side. He motioned for me to enter. I walked in hesitantly, still unsure of this decision. 

"What happened to your apartment?" I asked. As much as I trusted him now, I still would have felt somehow safer with others close by, than isolated out here with him. I shifted my weight from foot to foot nervously. 

"I moved." He answered briskly, not elaborating. He gave me a quick tour around the place, throwing in a "help yourself" when we made it to the kitchen. He finally led me to a room down the hallway, the guest room, which I learned was right across from his room. That made me even more nervous.

I took the opportunity to lean against the doorframe, wincing slightly. I was exhausted. He finally finished speaking, glancing down at me carefully.

"Is there anything I can get you?" He asked in concern.

"No. No, I'm fine." I answered quietly, suddenly feeling very off. I wasn't sure if everything had caught up with me, or if it was the painkillers wearing off. Either way, I could literally feel the energy draining from my body.

Before I could react, he had slipped his arm under my shoulder and led me over to the bed. He gently pushed me down. I didn't protest. My head was pounding.

"I'll get your things. I'll leave them outside the door?" He asked. I nodded tiredly and he left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. I turned onto my side, screwing my face up and letting out a pained breath, an arm wrapping around my torso. I immediately fell asleep.

I woke up, groaning and rolling onto my side. I immediately regretted it. I curled my arm defensively around my ribs, hugging my middle and squeezing my eyes shut.  My bandages had come loose, and every move sent a sharp pain into my sides. I inhaled sharply as I propped myself up, steeling myself to sit up. 

"Let's get this over with." I muttered, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I couldn't help the choked sob that escaped my throat. Everything hurt. I hunched over, gripping my shirt tightly in my balled fists. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to see anything but white. 

After several minutes of recovering, I carefully pushed myself to my feet. My face screwed up in agony and my breathing coming in uneven gasps. I walked to the bathroom on shaky feet, leaning heavily on the wall for support. 

The cool tile on my bare feet was a welcome transition from the wood floor of the bedroom. I leaned down, resting my feverish cheek on the tile countertop. I sighed in relief, taking a few deep breaths. With a groan, I knew I couldn't stay like this forever. I pulled away reluctantly, opening the medicine cabinet and looking for any medical supplies to rebandage my wounds. I found a first aid kit, along with ibuprofen and a bottle of alcohol. 

I carefully shrugged out of my shirt, tossing it up on the counter before pulling the things I needed out of the cupboard. Bandages, medical tape, scissors, antibiotic ointment, alcohol. I set each on the counter in front of me, grimacing at the last one. I slowly unwrapped the bindings on my bicep, hissing in pain when the bandage stuck to my still fresh wound. It appeared clean, but it was warm to the touch and the skin an angry red all around it. I frowned, leaning over the sink on my elbows and popping the cap off of the alcohol. As I poured the disinfectant over the gash, I clenched my teeth. 

A sudden knock at the door startled me. 

"Ace?" Renard's concerned voice came through.

"I'm fine." I replied shortly, afraid my voice would give me away. I splashed another wave of disinfectant over my arm, hissing in pain and gripping the countertop until I heard one of my knuckles crack. My knees were bent now, and I rested my forehead against the tile, breathing heavily.

"Artemis." His voice was much clearer now, causing my head to jerk up. He was leaning against the doorframe, a frown on his face. I set my jaw, turning back and glaring at him in the mirror. He watched as I stuck a gauze pad to the wound and haphazardly wrapped my upper arm, his frown deepening. I winced suddenly when I reached too far with my other shoulder, agitating the pulled muscle. I hung my head in an attempt to hide the pain filled expression on my face. My hands shook ever so slightly.

"Let me help you." 

"I'm fine." I said stubbornly. I brought the gauze roll up to my mouth, cutting it off with my teeth. I tossed it onto the counter before reaching for the medical tape. I wrapped it nearly around my bicep, a sharp contrast to the messy bandaging. I heard Renard sigh in frustration.

I ignored his presence the best I could. I began to unwrap the bandages wound around my waist, unable to stop my sharp intake of breath when the gauze stuck to the wound, partially reopening it as I peeled it off. The sight made me feel nauseated and I gagged slightly, resting my forehead back on the tile and trying to control my breathing. It only made me more sick, the sharp smell of blood assaulting my nostrils. 

"Fine." I said begrudgingly after a moment. He said nothing, standing beside me and gently unwrapping the bandages from my waist with nimble fingers. I straightened up slightly, allowing him better access. 

I saw him wince empathetically in the mirror when my breath hitched in pain as the other bandage did the same as the first. Blood trickled lazily down my side. He wordlessly reached over my shoulder for the alcohol, popping the cap off. I set my jaw, preparing for the sting. 

It was never enough to be prepared though, and I couldn't help the slight whimper that escaped my throat. This was worse than just a surface scratch, or even a gash. I could feel the burning of the disinfectant deep into my side – a strange and terrible feeling.

"Sorry." He apologized softly, resting his hand on the small of my back and tracing careful circles with his thumb. 

"It's okay." I said quietly through clenched teeth. My legs went weak on me, and I leaned heavily against the countertop on my elbows. Renard carefully pressed a damp washcloth to my side, wiping away the blood. I flinched. My entire abdomen had been bruised to some extent, and it was impossible for him to avoid. I was silent as he reached over me a second time, for sterile gauze and medical tape. He was neat and methodical as he bandaged and wrapped my waist. 

"Your ribs?" He questioned once he was done. 

"They hurt." I admitted. 

"I'll help you re-wrap them, then. There's painkillers in the cabinet, too." He added. I shook my head. 

"I'll be fine." 

"Alright." He gave me a skeptical glance, but didn't argue. I carefully unwound the bandages around my ribs, sucking in a sharp, pained breath. I allowed him to wrap new bandages snugly around my ribcage, his soft fingers brushing against my sides and back ever so slightly. 

"There." He finally said, cutting the bandage and pulling away. 

"Thank you." I said quietly, turning and looking up at him. His eyes were soft, and the corners of his lips quirked up slightly in a fond smile. "For all of this, actually." I continued. 

"Of course." He nodded. "Do you want lunch?" 

"Lunch? How long have I been asleep?" 

"About a day and a half." He hummed. "Don't worry about it, you definitely needed it." He reassured me.

"What about your work?" I frowned, slowly following behind him to the kitchen. 

"I took some days off. I don't want to leave you here by yourself while you're still recovering." He told me, setting a pan on the stove and grabbing eggs and a package of bacon from the fridge. 

I watched silently as he cracked the eggs in the pan and laid the bacon out alongside it, covering it with a lid and turning to face me. He leaned against the counter. "You didn't have to do that. I'm fine here myself." I argued.

"I told you I'd stay here with you." I met his gaze appreciatively. We locked eyes for several heartbeats, before smoke began to boil from the pan.

"Shit." He cursed, turning to tend to his cooking. I huffed a laugh, and he glared at me half-heartedly as he transferred the food to two plates.

He set the plates down at the table, sitting across from me. I smiled. "Thanks, Sean." 

"I didn't take you for a cook, actually." I said thoughtfully. 

"Really?" He grimaced slightly as he bit into the bacon.

"Not really." I hummed. "Y'know the whole prince thing and everything. I guess I figured you'd be kind of a dick."

"How did you know about that?" He asked suddenly.

"About you being a prince or being a dick?" I asked jokingly, taking another bite. His face remained serious. I swallowed. "I mean an idiot could put two and two together. Renard? The royal family?" I answered.

"I wasn't aware you knew of the royals." 

"My father told me about them before he died. He told me to avoid them at all costs, and I'm glad I did, too. They approached me not long after, trying to make some kind of deal with me. Seemed like a bunch of pricks, if I'm being honest. No offense." I added. 

"None taken." He assured me. "What kind of offer?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. I turned them down before they could tell me the details." 

"Smart." He commented. We lapsed into silence for a few moments. A small smile began to spread over my face as I pushed the unwanted food around my plate.

"What?" He asked, glancing up and noticing my expression.

"Nothing." I hummed. "Just funny how things work out." He looked at me with a confused expression and I continued. "I'm staying with a royal. It's ironic, I guess, though you certainly don't seem as much of as dick as the others, so you're not that bad." 

He suddenly glanced away. "I wouldn't call myself that." 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, my family doesn't want anything to do with me; and the feeling is very much mutual." 

"That would explain why I never heard of you before." 

"That would explain it." He muttered.

"Sorry about bringing it up." I apologized, noticing the change in his tone.

"No, no that's alright."

"If it's any consolation, I think that makes me feel a little better about trusting you. I was afraid you'd try to pull some shit on me; try to get me to join the royals or something." I admitted.

"Is that why you wouldn't accept my help?" 

"Sort of. I just don't like owing people in general." I frowned, looking away. 

"Hey, I don't want you to feel like you owe me, or anybody. Consider this a friend helping a friend." He reassured me.

"Yeah, I guess." I said. My voice was full of uncertainty. 

"Artemis. Look at me. If you want to repay me, you can do that by staying safe and healing, alright?" I nodded, still unsure. "I need you back out there to help with cases." He stood, collecting the dishes and taking them over to the sink. 

I stood up abruptly, feeling like I could at least do something. I hated feeling useless. "Hey wait I can do tha-" I hissed and doubled over in pain, clutching my middle and dropping back into the chair.  I set my jaw, my breath coming in sharp gasps.

"Ace! Fuck." I heard Renard's voice coming closer. I instinctively shrank away from his touch, pressing myself into the back of the chair. "It's okay."

"I forgot." I gasped out. 

"Be careful." He said sternly, squeezing my shoulder to comfort me. After several heartbeats, as the pain faded my breathing returned back to normal, I looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." I replied, slowly sitting up straighter. 

"I just told you to rest, and then you do the opposite." He scolded me.

"Sorry." I said timidly. I waited until after he washed the dishes to speak. "Thank you, for the food and everything." He turned to me with a glare that made me want to bolt, but his eyes instantaneously softened. 

"Even if it was burnt?" He asked jokingly, clearing the tension and putting me at ease.

"Even if it was burnt."