#when the heavy words have fallen/and I reconnect to you/that's when I rise up

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Had an epiphany during class that my WIP actually is in an important way, thematically anti-mindfulness.

[shivasdarknight]

WIP Wednesday!! 🎉🎉🎉

WIP Wednesday means it's time to share something from your active draft - no word limit, just whatever you feel is best. No pressure to do this if you're tagged, and feel free to hop on if you haven't been!

tagged by: @mxkelsifer tagging: @starswornoaths @lordguru @sheepwithspecs and anyone who wants to hop in o/

This bit is going under the cut because it's a bit lengthy, but there are also references to pregnancy within it since this is the pre-Endwalker fic in which Surkukteni dips out of Scion work to keep an unplanned pregnancy that leads to the oldest set of twins. Nothing explicit otherwise, just decompressing and Aymeric being a cheeky shithead .o.

also by lengthy i mean "1.7k words is a short snippet since this is a nearly 70k unfinished draft"

That “distraction” turned into a multi-bell talk that proved hard to pull away from.  It went well beyond the point of allowing Surkukteni’s voice to return and fell well into the territory of idle banter and chatter.  But for as much as she enjoyed reconnecting with Heustienne, all else still weighed heavy upon Surkukteni’s shoulders.  Even with promises to meet up again soon and invitations for Heustienne to visit her and Ysayle, it proved hard to ignore the rising dread of what was to come. Surkukteni fell onto Aymeric’s stupidly stiff sofa, draping her arms over her eyes in an attempt to decompress.  Ysayle was in the manor…somewhere, but judging the missing jackets at the door?  Aymeric and Estinien had disappeared whilst she was gone.  Not that it upset her, mind you; she needed the quiet. She needed to be somewhere safe and alone. With a deep and heavy sigh, Surkukteni finally let loose the posturing and masks she had to cobble together to even speak to the Scions.  As each one fell, her body felt more and more like stone rather than flesh.  Her limbs felt like static, her horns ringing with that faint echo of Katsuro’s venomous words haunting her.  Even if she had predicted what he would do, she underestimated how much it would impact her. All she wanted to do was melt into the couch.  Surkukteni lost all feeling in her arms, wishing she could fall asleep as easily as Ysayle did so she’d not have to think.  …How would one deal with a brother that threatened the life of one’s partner?  Especially when said partner was the father of one’s unborn child?  She knew Katsuro hated Estinien, none of this was new; but the spawn comment kept playing back on repeat and served to make her ill. Why couldn’t he just hate someone in a normal way and not have to turn it into a genuine threat of homicide? Katsuro was always so weirdly possessive over Surkukteni and Altan, moreso Surkukteni.  To some degree, she understood: they did have it confirmed that they were the split halves of what once was a whole soul.  But it didn’t matter that Surkukteni was still her own person and not this long-dead bastard, Azem - Katsuro would continue to act as if he held some claim of ownership over her because they were once a whole soul.  One would think that he would have learned his lesson from falling in line with the bloody Emperor and being manipulated by that fascistic bastard, but Katsuro continued to make the worst mistakes known to the Star and likely would never stop. Even if it meant that Surkukteni would have to cut him out just to keep her loved ones safe.

The spiral that Surkukteni had fallen into was thankfully averted - pulled from it by the sound of sabatons against hardwood floors.  Whoever it was paused, somewhere in the hall behind the sofa.  Another few steps, followed by a low hum that rang familiar. “Surkukteni?” was the voice of Aymeric, sounding deeply confused as the walking picked up again. “Living room,” she called, letting her arms drop onto her chest with a heavy sigh.  “It’s just me, though; I’m not sure where Ysayle is.” Aymeric didn’t respond immediately.  His footsteps grew louder, but soon muffled by the carpet as he drew closer.  It was only as he appeared over the back of the sofa - leaning onto it and looking down at her - did he deign to speak.  “She retired early, if I recall correctly.”  He wore such an easy smile, something that chased much of the day’s grief away.  “Her leg was bothering her and she preferred to sleep it off than to stay lucid through it.” “Oh, to be so blessed that you can just fall asleep wherever and whenever,” was Surkukteni’s snide response, her eyes nigh rolling into her skull.  “Truly, the only one of us to actually be blessed by Hydaelyn, as one of the rare few I know with no insomniac tendencies whatsoever.”

“Truly,” he echoed back.  Aymeric wore such a kind yet tired smile, one that reached his eyes in that way of his that drew out endearing laugh lines.  He was within reach, allowing Surkukteni to reach up and trace a callused thumb across the smile; to think she’d been denying herself this tenderness for years.  “I’m going to assume that talks were as stressful as predicted.” “Worse,” Surkukteni corrected with a sigh.  “...I’m glad Estinien wasn’t there.  I fear it might have ended up literally bloody were he.”  She paused.  “Where is he, anyways?” “Shirogane.”  Aymeric took her hand to press his lips into the heel of Surkukteni’s palm.  “He took the opportunity to talk to the girl you’ve taken in - Allie, was it?”  At a hum of confirmation, he continued.  “From what I understand, as he called me on my way back, something triggered her and she doesn’t want to be left alone.  She’s fine, worry not; she merely doesn’t want to leave your apartment nor be alone.” As relieved as she was that Allie was fine, the news did little to ease Surkukteni’s mind as she sat up to better meet Aymeric at eye level.  “Did he specify what it was?” “I’m afraid not.  She had to be convinced to let him use a linkpearl in the first place, so I can only assume.”  The shift in position allowed Aymeric to plant a kiss in her hair, a painfully sweet attempt at reassurance.  “You could call him and ask him yourself.” “If she had to be convinced to let him call you, then I’m worried it would aggravate her.”  Allie knew too well the fallibility of linkpearls, and knew very personally who would take advantage of the frequencies.  “If he’s not back on the morrow, I may.  But until then, I think it best to let him handle this.”

There was such a fond smile on Aymeric’s face, and one that Surkukteni knew all too well.  He shifted to lean on the sofa again, taking her hand with his flesh one and idly toying with her knuckles.  “I hadn’t realized he’d become so keen on aiding troubled teenagers.” “You wouldn’t guess looking at him, but yeah.  This matters a lot to him, especially since her trauma is so similar to his.”  She knew he saw Hamignant in Alphinaud, leading to the brotherly relationship the two had much like herself and Alisaie - but Allie was clearly something different.  While he treated Alphinaud much like a younger brother, she couldn’t help but linger on his comment about what he put Alberic through as a teenager.  “He’s been accusing me of acting like my captain by taking Allie in, but he’s been drawing parallels between himself and his father.  I’m fairly certain we’re of the same mind here in this, in striving to be whatever Allie needs from us, but it’s heartening all the same to see the two get along.” “Aye, that it is.  I only hope she will allow me to extend similar aid, as the both of you clearly care a great deal about her.”  When given a quizzical look, Aymeric just smiled that annoying, knowing smile of hers.  “I understand what you mean clearly, but wouldn’t it be more accurate to call the child you carry your second child with him - your first being the one you two took in?” Surkukteni refused to look at Aymeric, nose scrunching up when she heard him have the gall to laugh.  “Like I said, what we are to Allie is on her.  Even if it’s just temporary housing whilst she recovers, it’s not on me to make those kinds of calls.”

“I know, I know.  I merely tease.”  He pressed his lips to her fingers once more, dropping them and standing with a stiff sigh.  “Regardless, what you’re doing is admirable and I’m more than glad to be of help.  But - for as loath as I am to do this - I’m afraid I must retire for the night.  Bloody exhausted, unfortunately.” “What did that?”  Surkukteni turned back, frowning up at Aymeric.  “I thought you got off from work.” “Briefly.”  Aymeric’s eyes seemed to disappear entirely into the back of his skull.  “The Lords got into a spat and my attention was needed, which naturally lasted bells.  It was so bloody pointless that counting how many times they cut each other off or used the phrase, ‘Were this still a theocracy-!’ was far more interesting than their arguing.  And it was two-hundred-and-thirty-five interruptions, and forty-three ‘Were-this-still-a-theocracy-’s, I’ll have you know.” Surkutkeni whistled lowly.  “New record?” “Hardly.  They’ve still not topped the time they argued from half-a-bell before the usual meeting time ‘til so far into the night that Menphina grew bored of watching us.”  He shook his head, tossing his hair around with him and thoroughly distracting Surkukteni.  “As much as I cherish these talks with you, I want to stop thinking for as long as I can.”  His words were punctuated with a tired laugh, rolling his shoulders back in another distraction. Surkukteni forced herself to look up at his eyes, realizing she’d been caught but trying to not let the smug look he wore distract her for a third time.  “...Then,” she started, her lips folding into a line, “would it be too much trouble to retire with you?” A single eyebrow arched at her. “There’s no other meaning, you horny bastard,” she chided, narrowing her eyes at him and managing to pull a loud laugh from Aymeric.  “I just want to forcibly turn my mind off for a while; preferably with company.”

“Ysayle is in the room you shared the night prior, are you certain you don’t wish to stay with her again?” “I’m certain.”  Surkukteni stood so that she might better look up at him - still a head taller, but at least she wasn’t craning her neck anymore.  “Especially since someone slept alone last night.  And has slept alone for quite some time now.” The coy look melted at that, shifting to something far more…relieved.  “I assume that ‘no’ is not an option?” It was an option, but: “That would be correct.”  Surkukteni moved to stand before him, taking his hands and pulling them in towards her.  “You signed up for this, so don’t you start complaining.  My being clingy and incorrigible was part of the deal, and you just have to deal with it. “So, would you kindly lead the way?”

[douxie-casperan]

When there's no space left between us And all that's left is you When my darkest hours are faded And the light is coming through That's when I rise up

Cause' between us I found myself when I open up to you That's when I rise up And open my eyes up Cause' between us

That's when I rise up When I open my eyes up to you When there's no lies left between us And all that's left is truth When the heavy words have fallen And I reconnected to you That's when I rise up

[wreckofawriter]

better

pairing: regulus black x evans!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, angst, make out scene

request by: @upchurch-funk

summary: being a muggleborn dating Regulus meant you had to keep it a secret. When your older sister finds out she raises fear of heartbreak in both of you

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

    You and your sisters had been born jealous. Petunia turned to envy first as the attention that had been solely given to her was split between two other daughters. She had always been bitter towards you and Lily, never forgiving you for interpreting her perfect young life.  She had taken your things, broken your toys and ripped your clothes trying to punish you for being born and turning her from an only child to the eldest.

    Lily was next when she realised she wasn't the only one who could sprout fire from her fingertips. She had accused you of faking your magic for years, doing everything she could to best you even if she never fully understood her powers herself. Luckily she outgrew this jealous fit and by the time you shared a cabin on your way to Hogwarts she was beaming ear to ear. 

    It was you who was last to realise what the burn in your chest really meant. The feeling came heavy like thick rain drops as you watched your sister fall so effortlessly in love. Each time she gave James a quick hug or leaned onto his shoulder your eyes narrowed, fury irrationally rising in your throat. 

    This wasn’t because you wished James was yours instead. In fact you had considered him an idiot since you met him and would have rather drown yourself than date the loud mouth fool. You were instead jealous of the simplicity of their relationship. Envious of how they could be carefree, how they could dream of picket fences and happy futures. You hated that they could still be stupid kids. How they were given the freedom to make out in hallways and sneak into eachothers dorms with their worst consequence being a slap on the wrist and week of detention. Nothing hurt more than watching your sister live a simple life you knew you never could. 

    You stared across the room locking eyes with Regulus for only a brief moment before his darted away. Charms was dreadfully boring, the lecture practically putting you to sleep, you knew you should have been paying attention, but watching the younger Black perform the spell with ease was far more interesting. The flick of his wrist was an addicting, dull look in his eyes far more attractive than it should have been. He had woken up late that morning, his hair messier than usual. You thought it looked adorable, the way a few strands drooped in front of his lashes. He only got cuter as he blew them from his face with a pout. 

    “You have a staring problem.” Levi muttered from beside you. 

    You rolled your eyes, “Do you ever mind your own business?” 

    “Please, you make your thing for Black everyone's business.” He muttered and you kicked him under the desk. 

    Cussing at you he glared, leaning down to massage his bruising shin. 

    You wondered briefly how he would have reacted to the reveal of your relationship with your “hopeless crush” as he liked to call it. The surprise on his face would have been sweet as honey. 

    Regulus was watching you now as you continued to talk to your desk mate, he had never liked the boy, call it jealousy or anger, something bitter always rose in his throat when he saw you with him. Maybe it was because he knew your life would be so much easier if you had loved him instead. 

    “I don’t get what you see in him anyway.” Levi said, looking across at Regulus whose eyes had quickly retreated back to his parchment. 

    You grew brittle at the statement.

    “I mean I know he's attractive but if it's really about looks why not go for his brother?” He grumbled.

    You scoffed, “Please, Sirius is a piece of work.” 

    “And he isn't? I’m surprised he hasn’t called you a slur yet.” 

    Rage bubbled in your stomach, your chest feeling hot, “Shut up.” 

    Levi was either oblivious to the anger set in your tone or unbothered by it “I mean really y/n, you have a crush on a purist? It's sickening.” 

    You screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the hot tears building behind them. You wanted to scream at him, slap him across the face and shout how Regulus would never do such a thing. You wanted to tell him how wrong he was, make him regret ever speaking such cold words.  But instead you looked away, wiping your tears as they came while your boyfriend sat across the room pretending you didn't exist. 

   

    You were used to it, you knew as a muggleborn dating a pureblood from a family like his would never be easy but the words still stung. That night you sobbed into Regulus’s chest as he held you in your usual hidden courtyard. 

    As your tears soaked through his sweater he felt nothing but the cold grip of guilt. He had never meant to fall in love. He had known it was a mistake the second it had happened. Even now he knew he had been wrong and stupid and naive to let himself feel so deeply for someone he could never truly be with. He would never forgive himself for forcing you into the hellish life he lived with a simple confession. He hated himself every day for it, he didn't deserve to indulge in his emotions knowing it would cause you nothing but pain. He didn't deserve you and he had known that from the start. 

    Yet every night you met, kissing under the pale moon until your lips grew numb. Everynight he found himself falling deeper and deeper into you until you filled his dreams and nightmares alike. So he forced you closer to him, knowing he would cause nothing but hurt. And you were so childishly in love you let him. 

    Later as you lay asleep on his chest, legs tangled beneath a blanket he let his own tears go, silent apologies dripping down his cheek as he tightened his grip on your waist. 

    Lily watched you from where she sat at her table, green eyes narrowed as she tried to read your mind across the dining hall. 

    “Something is definitely off.” She mumbled turning to James who stared at her with a  dopey grin. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said have you?” 

    “How can I when you’re so beautiful?” He murmured back and she scoffed, face darkening.

    Sirius gagged, “You guys are disgusting.” 

    “Christ Black, how old are you?” Lily spoke with the roll of her eyes. 

    He scrunched his nose and pretended to mock her silently only earning a sigh from Remus who sat beside him. 

    “Something is wrong with y/n, I can just feel it.” Lily continued content on ignoring Sirius. 

    “Maybe she's dating that Callahan kid.” James offered. “There’s been tons of rumors.”

    Lily scoffed, “Please, she has told me multiple times she has absolutely no interest in him.” 

    “A few months ago you were telling her you had absolutely no interest in James.” Remus offered not to look up from his book.

    Lily sputtered blushing heavily again, “That is completely different.” 

    “Sure it is.” Remus drawled, eyes peering over the cover at her. 

    Lily furrowed her brow, “But why wouldn’t she tell me? I mean I thought we've always been close.” 

    “Maybe it's not that serious.” Sirius shrugged, “Maybe they’re just fuck buddies or something.”

    Lily pulled back in disgust, “Don’t talk about my little sister like that!” she hissed as Remus kicked him under the table.

    “What? She’s almost 17! It's not like she's 12 or something, Godric.” Sirius complained and James threw a spoon at him. 

    “You know if you’re really that curious we could always just check the map.” James said looking over at Lily who was trying to set Sirius on fire with her glare. 

    She considered it for a moment, “Isn’t that kind of..” she paused “intrusive?” 

    He shrugged, “She's your little sister.” 

    The sky was dark that night as you met with Regulus. The moon was new leaving only the blinking stars to light the ground beneath you. 

    You grinned when you saw Regulus leaning against the small statue in the middle of the courtyard. You quickened your pace pulling him into a brief kiss as you met.

    “Hi.” You whispered against his lips and you felt him smile.

    “Hi.” He responded, hands on your waist pulling you closer once again. 

You tasted sweet like the nectar of the gods, soft and tender in his arms. Your hair smelt of pomegranate, your flowery perfume engulfing him. There was nothing more addicting on this world than your lips. 

You both pulled away breathless and grinning stupidly, “Your hair looks so cute like this.” You mumbled running your hands through it and tugging lightly on a curly lock that had fallen down his forehead. 

Regulus practically purred, melting into your touch. He dipped his head low to hide his blush, lips skimming the skin of your neck. 

You giggled as he mumbled a bashful thank you before nipping slightly below your ear. He was always careful to never leave marks that could be seen the following day. You wished he wasn’t. 

You felt his hands on the back of your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your nose in his hair as he walked until your back hit the wall of the castle. You scratched your nails lightly against his scalp and Regulus groaned. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue on your jaw as he pressed you further into the stone. Your legs now wrapped around his waist as he left sloppy kisses on your collar bone. 

It was then you heard the shuffle of footsteps. 

“Regulus.” You whispered and he broke away to look up at you, his lips red and glossy , “I heard someone.” 

He slowly lowered you to your feet, “You sure?” 

You nodded and you both stood silently, ears craning for another sign of life among you. After a minute you sighed, “Sorry, I must have been hearing things.” 

Regulus just shook his head grinning lightly, “ ‘s fine babe.” words slurring, intoxicated by your taste. 

Your lips reconnected, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as you began to work on the buttons of his shirt, tugging on his tie to loosen its knot. But there it was again the soft sound of feet, closer this time. 

You both paused Regulus pulling away leaving your skin feeling cold in his absence. 

“Who’s there?” He demanded into the darkness, wand lit. 

There was no response and you grabbed his hand to pull him back to you. Regulus stood his ground so you leaned into him, lips ghosting against his ear. 

“It's probably just a mouse or somethin’.” You murmured hands coming back to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt.

Regulus glanced around once more before looking down at you, “You’re probably right.”  he said before he began to untuck your blouse, hands sliding slowly under it. 

It was that which finally broke Lily, her vision going red. She stepped from beneath the invisibility cloak ignoring James' protests. 

You let out a small yelp as your sister appeared from thin air, Regulus who had his back turned to her immediately drew his wand pushing you lightly behind him. His eyes went wide as he found himself inches from your older sister. It was your turn to pull Regulus behind you. 

“Lily, What in bloody hell are you doing here?” 

When James sheepishly appeared as well you gasped, “What is wrong with you both, are you stalking me?” 

Lily looked stern, her arms crossed, “Why are you with him?” she seethed.

Your eyes narrowed, “None of your fucking buissnes. Now take your dog and leave.” 

Regulus almost didn't believe it was you that was talking. He wasn’t accustomed to the harsh tone you used, your anger hardly ever directed at him. 

“This is most certainly my business!” She spoke shrilly. 

“It is most certainly not. Now get out.” You shouted.

“How can you expect me to leave when you're getting all touchy feely with a purist?” She hissed, grabbing at your wrist to pull you away from the boy behind you.    You slapped her away so hard the sound echoed off the walls, “Call him that again around me and you’ll fucking regret it.” You growled. 

Lily stepped back surprised by your sudden aggression but not backing down, “Please y/n, I’m just calling it as it. The sooner you realise that the better.” 

Regulus felt his throat tighten as he listened, teeth biting into his lip as he had nowhere to look but his feet. 

    You stepped closer to your sister inches from her face, “Leave.” your voice struck heavy. 

    Lily responded just as harshly, “No.” 

    James shifted behind his girlfriend feeling like he was intruding on the fight which was taking place. Sensing his awkwardness you looked back at him with a searing gaze. 

    “Get out Potter, you have no place here.” You spat.

    He was planning on shuffling away when Lily turned back to him angrily, “No James stay.” 

You scoffed as he did as he was told, “Fucking pet.” 

“Don’t speak to him like that.” Lily scolded. 

“You're the one who's calling my boyfriend a purist.” You growled your mouth bitter at the taste of hypocrisy.

“Because he is one!” She bit back. “You really think he actually loves you after being raised how he was? With a mother like his?” 

Regulus felt like he had been slapped, his cheek stinging as the older girl spoke. 

 “Don’t you dare bring up his mother.”  You were shaking with rage by now, your face streaked with angry tears, “And how dare you speak ill of Regulus simply because of his upbringing as if his brother isn't one of your closest friends. How do you think Sirius would feel hearing what you just said?” 

This took Lily back a step, her rage cooling a bit as she realised her mistake, “It’s different,” She tried to recover, “He isn't with his family anymore. Sirius has already broken away from them. He made the choice any good person would.” 

Regulus felt her eyes on him as she spoke. She was no longer interested in her sister and instead focused on him. He felt like he was choking under the pressure of her stare. When he glanced up to meet her gaze he inhaled sharply. He hadn’t seen such hatred in a long time.

Your lashes were thick with tears by now, disgust and fury morphing your face, “Go fuck yourself Lily.” You spat.

She ignored you, gaze locked on Regulus, she had no intention of speaking to you anymore, “You stay away from her.” she demanded, “If you truly love her you stay away from her.”

You shouted lunging forwards and shoving your sister backwards. She stumbled back catching herself. 

It was you who fell, your feet tangling, forcing you to the ground. You hit hard, hands and knees scraping against stones and moss which made up the floor. You couldn’t find it in you to stand up simply letting exhaustion and misery take you where you lay. You shook with sobs, voice cracked and raw. Lily immediately dropped beside you, hands circling your neck as she drew you into a hug. You fought her as you always did but she held on, letting you beat her chest with your fists until you stilled.

Regulus took a step forward but was stopped by your sister whose glare told him everything he needed to know. Tears pricking his own eyes he stumbled past the two of you and disappeared into the darkness of the dungeons. He didn't hear James shout for him over the sound of the ring in his ears. He wasn’t sure where he ended up, somewhere deep in the depths of the sprawling castle, dust coated the staircase he collapsed onto. Only there did he let himself cry, choking sobs rubbing his throat raw as he looked for someone to blame. His mother for forcing him into the terrifying world of dark magic? His brother for abandoning him in his abusive home? Or your sister for pointing out the truth he prayed you would never see? Regulus wished he could pass the blame off to anyone but he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had no one to hate but himself. 

Regulus disappeared entirely for three days. Three days you spent desperately avoiding your sister who seemed just as adamant to talk to you again. You skipped meals opting for hunger instead risking meeting her in the hall. She would show up outside your classes forcing you to scramble out the back way or sprint away like a child running from punishment. 

On the fourth day of your boyfriend's absence you felt yourself beginning to panic. Fear of him never returning, filling your head with irrational thoughts. It wasn’t like you could ask around for him, your relationship needed to remain secret despite the difficulties you were facing. It was then Lily cornered you. 

You stared at the redhead as she blocked your only exit. “Lily, move.” You sighed exhausted by the past few days, sleepless nights not improving your condition. 

She didn't listen, “Y/n we need to talk.” 

"About what?" You scoffed, "I have nothing to say to you.” 

“I just want you to understand why I,” She paused, “Why I said what I did.” 

“I don't care why you said it Lily.” You said, “I don’t care if you think you were protecting me or saving me from some hopeless relationship. I honestly don’t care.” 

Her eyes swelled, “How can you say that? How can you not care? I love you y/n I just want you to be safe.” 

You stared at her, “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just let me be happy.”

“He’s dangerous.” 

You shook your head, “No, his family is dangerous. His situation is dangerous. He’s not.” 

“Y/n please.” She begged, for what you did not know. 

“Just stay out of my shit Lily.” you mumbled pushing past her and back into the hallway. 

You spent the night where you always had, the small courtyard hidden between two towers of the castle, a statue of a woman draped in vines and flowers at its center. The moon was a small sliver, a dusting of clouds blocking the stars from your view. The shuffle of footsteps brought your eyes from the ground. 

There stood Regulus, his face shining in the pale light. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, nose pointed at the floor as he refused to meet your gaze. 

You stood quickly throwing your hands around his neck. He leaned into your touch burying his head into your shoulder as his hands found your waist. 

You smelled delightful as always, your lips soft against his cheek and hands in his hair. Regulus hadn’t realized he was crying until you began to comfort him. Sweet words whispered into his ear as you only held him tighter. 

“She’s right, you know.” He croaked, lifting his head to look at you. “You shouldn’t be around me.” 

You shook your head feverishly, “You’re wrong Reggy.”

“I don’t deserve you y/n, I don’t deserve to be with you.” He sobbed, “I could never deserve you.” 

“You’re right, love.” You mumbled, smiling through the tears that coated your cheeks, “You deserve so much better.” 

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist:@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @suseptiable-bur-siriusexual @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @rosieweasleyy @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys

navi

[generallybarzy]

the queen + her good boy. ---m.barzal

inspo: kings & queens, ava max… “you might think I’m weak without a sword, but if i had one it’d be bigger than yours” ……… that’s so hot….

an: here’s that smutty fic that turned out being a loooooot more than a blurb, oops. I literally can’t stop thinking about this cincept and I definitely think its something Mat’d be into. A lot of people see him as a sub and a lot see him as a dom, and I’m pretty much on the “he’s a soft dom”/switch side but now I appreciate both so…. this fic is the outcome. im so so proud of this, i think i used realllllly good descriptions and its really hot but i also don’t like bragging so please tell me if you like it cause i speedwrote this in like 2 days. praise me like the reader praises maty. Reminder that all you girls are 👑queens👑 and you better make any guys treat you as such. Only reciprocate and make him feel like a king if he deserves it 💕.

warning: smut.

word count: 4.3k

The first time you said it, it surprised him.

You weren't unhappy with your sex life in any way. You weren't bored, you weren't looking for a change, you weren't trying to make it more exciting. You were content. It was beautiful, you both gave and received, it was an even back and forth, and you had plenty of different "modes". You communicated and had little important talks about sex, you made it the best it could be. You weren't stuck in a sexual rut, in fact, you couldn't be happier with where you were. Something just felt so right about those words.

The first time you said it, Mat's mouth was between your thighs.

You were spread out on the couch, legs on Mat's shoulders and hands tangled in his hair as he knelt on the floor between your thighs and lapped away at your heat. It felt so good, so fucking perfect that you couldn't control yourself. You were yanking on his dark locks, tugging his face closer, spurred on by the wet noises of his mouth, his chin, his nose all up against your pussy, eating to his heart’s content, his nose bumping against your clit and making your legs squeeze around his head. You felt so in control, being able to push and pull him any way you want, and Mat felt so at your will, letting you guide him and tell him what you wanted most.

And when those two words slipped out in the heat of the moment, Mat realized just how much he loved the position he was in.

"Ohhh, good boy."

The sound that escaped his throat was like a moan, a whine almost, as his pretty eyes shot up to look at you, at the way your chest was rising and falling with each heavy breath, at the way you were looking down at him, a fire in your eyes.

His eyes wide, his jaw slack and his face shiny with your slick as he leaned back from your cunt to gaze up at you, the dumbstruck expression making his pleasure evident.

“Oh, damn.”

“You like that, Maty?” You bit your lip, watching the way his hand moved down to the stirring in his pants and loving the way you affected him. “You like it when I call you that, baby?”

“Hell, yes.” He shuffled around on the floor, tugging his tight jeans down his thighs and pushing them aside to ease the pressure on his straining cock. “Say it again.”

“Only if you get back to your job.”  And with that, you tugged him closer until his mouth reconnected with your clit. “Right there…” He went to work, sucking and kissing and bringing his fingers up to dip at your entrance, pushing and pulling you in all the ways he knew you loved. “Oh yeah, Maty. Just like that.” You stroked his hair, gentler than before, curling your fingers through the fluffy locks and dragging your nails over his scalp just how you knew it comforted him. “You’re so good to me... Always treating me so nicely, making me cum so good. You’re my good boy, aren’t you, baby?”

He moaned again, vibrating against your warmth. “Mhmm. Yeah, princess.”

Your eyes fell shut momentarily, satisfied, and savoring the feeling before an idea struck you. “No,” You pulled his hair and forced his gaze up to you. You “Oh, no, baby, I’m the queen now.”

“Fuck. Fuck yes you are.”

"You like this? You like being so submissive for me?"

"Holy shit." Mat’s hand fell to his cock for a few helpless strokes. "Yes. Fuck yes."

“Now,” You put your foot on the back of Mat’s head and pulled him in again, tired of all the banter and just wanting your release. “Are you gonna be a good boy and make your queen cum?”

“Yes, queen.”

And he got to work.

It didn’t take long after that, and when you were finally spent and panting and Mat had emptied himself all over his own hand, you pulled him up onto the couch with you. His knees were red and lightly carpet burnt from kneeling before you for so long, but you both knew it was just reciprocation for all the times you had bruised your own knees for him. Your fingers stayed knotted securely in his hair, right where they belonged, the two of you curled together on the couch and he kissed at your neck as your breathing steadied down to a normal pace. “Maty…”

“Hmm?”

You touched his cheeks and lifted his face from your neck to get a good look at him. His cheeks were pink, his eyes averted and soft, and the smile on his face was haloed with your stickiness. Baby’s a messy eater… “Maty, I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I didn’t know either.”

“It’s so hot.”

“Mhmm.”

You leaned in to kiss him, still tasting yourself on his tongue. “I’m glad you admitted how much you liked it. A lot of guys wouldn’t be comfortable saying that, I don’t think.”

“I just like hearing that I make you feel good.”

“You do. So good.”

He sighed against your skin and grinned. “You think this is gonna become a regular thing now?”

"I don't know. I like you being in charge." Mat hummed in response and went back to kissing your neck. "But I like this too. I like calling you a good boy. Cause you are."

"Mmm."

"I like both equally."

"Me too." Mat's lips found your own again, more chaste and sweet this time. "We can do both."

The next time it happened, you planned it out.

There had been a long, tiring game that night, and even after they finally won, Mat still didn’t feel like celebrating. The score had been much to close all night, and when Mat finally got home, all he wanted to do was finally sit down and rest and indulge in his girl.

His queen.

“Hey, pretty baby.” You greeted him with a kiss and led him to the bedroom, dropping your robe to reveal your pretty lingerie set, working him out of his tie and suit jacket as he stared in awe. No words needed to be spoken. It was a common occurrence after tough games for you to take good care of him, he knew what he needed to do, even without your soft words. “Lay down for me, baby. Be a good boy.”

He whined at the words, flopping down on the bed and knowing exactly what was coming.

“C’mon, baby.” You worked him out of his dress pants and shirt, kissing up his thighs and up his abdomen and chest and his neck until you were nibbling at his jawline. “You gonna behave for me tonight, Maty?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

He moaned.

"C'mon, baby."

“Yes, my queen.”

A hand came up to his hair and his eyes went wide, watching, waiting for your commands. “Good boy. I know you will.” You straddled his now-naked thighs and leaned into his ear, nibbling gently. “ First I need you to get that pretty cock of yours hard for me. Can you do that?”

He whimpered helplessly, grinding himself up against you, only half hard.

“Yeah, I think you can do it.” You took him in your hand, playing with the weight and stroking in just the way you knew he loved. The way you knew would get him hard. He was practically throbbing, aching for need already, and you could feel him grow harder with each passing moment. It was a tender moment, sitting there together in warm silence, listening to Mat’s breaths, and feeling his growing desire for you, just sharing that moment of intimacy.  “Maty?”

“Hm?” His eyes opened, gazing up at you in awe.

“You want me to take care of you, baby?"

"Yes, please."

"You gotta earn it first, you know that, right? You gotta deserve it. Wanna eat me out? Make me cum first? Earn your orgasm?”

“Yes, yes!” He was eager to respond, nodding his head quickly and shaking around his hair. “Fuck, I promise I’ll make you cum so good-” he was moving to sit up, so you placed a hand right on his chest and gently pushed him back.

“No, baby, stay here. Lie back and be comfy.” You brushed the hair away from his forehead and crawled up his body, watching his jaw drop as he realized what you meant. Your eyes went cautious for a moment, silently asking if this is alright, but he just opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue for you to sit yourself down onto while you steadied yourself with his hair.

Your throne.

“Go ahead baby, do what you do best.”

And he went right on ahead, his tongue lapping at your aching hole, his hands coming up to hold your thighs in place, his nose pressing against your clit, always eager to please his queen, always eager to show you just how good he was, to remind you just how much he worshipped you. You ground your hips down onto his face, a spark of pleasure erupting from the way his nose hit your sensitive clit, and you reached down to tug on his hair, tilting his face up perfectly against your pussy. “Yes, baby. Like that.”

He groaned from beneath you, unable to form coherent noises, settling for groans and whines that sent vibrations straight through your core. The peaks and dips of his face felt so euphoric between your thighs, you wanted to explore and memorize the terrain, and the way your soft skin slid over the scratchy scruff on his cheeks had your legs trembling. If it weren't for your grip in his dark waves, you would have fallen over.

It wasn’t long before his skilled mouth had you shaking, reaching your limit. You leaned back to let him breathe before you could finish, and caught a glimpse of him beneath you, his eyes dark and wide, his tongue swiping over his lips and cleaning himself of your slick. He wasn’t doing a good job, though, as he was stickied and wet from his chin to his nose, his cheeks red and lips swollen from all the work he’d been doing. Messy baby.

“Well,” You ran your fingers across his forehead, pushing dark curls away from the sweat they were sticking to. “Finish the job, pretty boy.”

“Yes, my queen.”

With his eyes still straining up to yours as his mouth connected with your clit and his finger found your hole, it was only seconds before you spasmed around him, your slickness leaking down all over his face. Mat moaned into your flesh- his cock throbbing at the sight of you coming undone atop of him, at the feeling of your hands yanking his face closer, your pussy throbbing around his two fingers and they dipped in and out and curled just how he knew you loved- and you dripped into his mouth, fully spent and satisfied.

When he could finally form words, he whispered, gazing at you in awe: “How was that?”

“Mmm,” You were still trembling from that hell of an orgasm, sliding down to sit on his chest instead, and Mat almost came at the feeling of your wet against his skin. “Mmmm, Mat. that was so good, So perfect baby.”

“Was I good? Did I earn it?”

“What do you think?” After all of that, you almost forgot what he’d done it for.

“But say it.” His eyes were pleading, wide and bright. “Please.”

“Oh,” You leaned down to give his lips a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Oh, baby, you’re such a good boy for me. Good boy, good boy. Made me cum so good. I think you deserve a treat, don't you?”

"Please, my queen."

It wasn’t long before the words made it into your daily life.

It wasn’t a serious dom and sub role like something out of “Fifty Shades” or some gross preteen-written fanfiction, definitely not, but just a cute little tease that you liked to bring up now and then to fluster him. Mat loved to be reminded of how good he was to you, he loved to know he was doing a good job and that you appreciate him, and you loved to dish it out. If it were any other guy, you wouldn’t do this for them, but Mat just… deserved it so bad. He really did treat you like his queen.

He loved to tease you. Many times, he'd catch you in the mirror before dates and his sneaky hands would find their way down to your ass, and you would scold him and swat those hands away. "Oh, come on, baby. My queen looks so delicious tonight." He’d be gazing at you in the mirror, leaving sloppy kisses all the way up your neck, but you just got your hair perfect, you just applied your makeup perfectly, there was no way you were about to ruin it, especially for such a naughty boy.

"Keep behaving like that and you won't get anything tonight, baby. Bad boys don't get rewards, you know that."

"I'm being bad?" He smirked, sending shivers down your spine.

"So bad."

"Oh, I can get a lot worse."

He'd tease you, alright, but you always found ways to tease him right back.

Like the time you were out with his friends, and one of the wags mentioned "Oh yeah, Y/N definitely runs the show in this relationship." and everyone laughed and cheered about how "Barzy's so whipped!" It was all in good nature, everyone knew how much the two of you loved each other, and all his friends laughed at it, but Mat only shrugged and mumbled something like "Sometimes I’m in charge…”, though you knew he wasn’t afraid to admit to his friends just how much he loved his queen. Not that he’d ever tell them… about that.

“I might be in charge, but Maty here is good at following my orders. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Mat’s eyes widened for a moment as you reached up and curled a hand to cradle the back of his neck and play with the dark curls peeking out of his hat. His cheeks went red at the use of his pet name in front of all these friends.  

“Yeah, of course, your majesty.”

The words were spoken sarcastically, and to anyone else, it seemed like playful banter, simply teasing. But both you and Mat- and only the two of you- knew that under the table, something was stirring up in Mat, and when you got home tonight, he was definitely gonna be the one in charge.  

You loved the teasing, but sometimes you weren't in the mood for that. Sometimes you were in the mood to be absolutely cherished and catered to. Treated like the queen you are.  And luckily, Mat was there, willing and ready to dish it out.

After such a long day at work, all you wanted when you came home was to fall onto the couch and lose yourself in your loving boyfriend. You’d called Mat the moment you got off work, practically begged him to come over to your apartment for the night. Not that it was really begging, because he caved immediately at the thought of spending more time with his girl. But the thoughts of the dishes in the sink, the dinner that needed to be prepared, and how your apartment that looked like an absolute wreck when you left this morning plagued your mind as you took the final steps through the hall to your apartment door.

The second you opened the door, you found yourself encased in big arms.

“Hey, baby.”

“Mat. Ugh, I had the worst day.”

“I can tell.” His lips found your cheeks sweetly, and your eyes took a moment to glance around the room.

“Did you… clean?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back from your hug with a proud smile. “I know when you’re stressed you busy yourself with a lot of work, so if I do everything for you, there’s nothing for you to do tonight but cuddle, right?” You didn’t know what to say. Your jaw had literally dropped, and, if you weren’t so dead tired, you would have jumped him. “I did the dishes, cleaned up a little, got our favorite show on, and I’m one click away from ordering some food if you’re down.”

“Mat, you didn’t need to do all this.”

“Nothing’s too much to do for my queen.”

You smiled at the pet name as you felt the familiar heat curling through your stomach. “Thank you for this. So much, baby.”

“No problem, seriously. I guess I’m just… a good boy, for doing all this?” He said the words with a smile, a suggestion. And you were down.

“Maty, baby. You are. You’re such a good boy. What do you want tonight?”

“Whatever you want. I’m all yours for the night. Do whatever you want. Anything. You deserve it.”

Just those words had heat flooding into your panties, as you remembered what it felt like to have his cheeks scratch against the insides of your thighs.

“Eat me out, baby.”

At your words, he dropped to his knees in front of you.

Woah.

His hands quickly unbuttoned your pants and yanked them down to your ankles along with your panties, and his mouth followed, pressing sloppy, wet kisses down your legs. He hooked one of your knees over his shoulder and nibbled up the soft flesh of your inner thigh, leaving tiny love bites all the way. “Mat, Mat.” He glanced up, his eyes fiery and needy. “Mat, take your clothes off. Wanna see you.”

“Fuck, yes, my queen.”

His shirt fell onto the floor, followed quickly by his sweatpants, and finally his boxers. Just like always, the sight of him had you aching for more, your heat pounding with your heartbeat so hard you swore he could hear it from his position. Seeing him naked, vulnerable, submissive at your feet just… stroked something in you. Your confidence, maybe. Seeing such a big, strong, dominant guy so willing and needy for you, willing to do anything just for a taste, it made you feel so powerful. You controlled his pleasure.

He was already half-hard, gripping himself tightly and giving slow, steady strokes.

“Ah, ah, ah, hands off your cock, baby.” His eyes shot up to yours and his hands flattened on his thighs, cock twitching wildly in the air, straining for you. You knotted your fingers through his locks like always and tugged him in.

And he got to work.

His mouth felt heavenly against your heat, his tongue wide and thick and hot and lapping at you as if he was a starved man and you were the most delicious feast he could ever eat. As if what was dripping for him from between your legs was like honey, was like the food of gods, and he had tried his hardest to prove he was worthy of just a taste, just a breath, just your mere presence. And he was taking his precious time savoring the taste because you were the best flavor he could ever imagine. The sweet taste of your skin, where the perfume lingered as he bit down into your shoulder, the taste of whatever chapstick you put on when you kissed him, and now the intoxicating drip drip drip between your legs.

One of your feet was already flat on his back, so when he lifted your other leg over his shoulder, you hesitated.

He glanced up from between your legs with a smile, cocky and sure of himself. “Don’t think I can hold you up, babe?”

“Can you?”

“Trust me.”

And with your back against the wall, Mat hoisted both your legs onto his shoulders and scooted closer to you, until his face was flush with your heat, your feet flat on his back and your hands in his hair pulling him in. You tossed your head back against the wall as his lips closed around your clit, abusing the bundle of nerves just like you loved.

“Fuuuck, yes. Good boy.”

“Ohhh.” There were the words he craved so bad to hear.

The room was full of wet, sloppy noises, the noises of Mat’s tongue and face against your slickness, but through it all, you heard something else. A familiar sound of steady, rhythmic slapping.

“Mathew!” As much as your body complained, your hands tugged Mat’s face away, looking down at the dizzy, dumbstruck look on his face, his hand frozen on his cock. He’d been caught, and he’d be punished. “Bad, bad boy. Hands off.”

“Fuck.”

Your hand cupped his cheek, dragging a thumb along his bottom lip and swiping away some of your slick. “You don’t like listening to me? You like being a nasty, disobedient boy?”

“No, fuck, I’ll be good.” His hands gripped his thighs tight, trying to calm himself and keep his hands away, his cock red and angry and straining for you.

“Hmm. Maybe I’m being too hard on you. Teasing you like this and not giving you any release. Maybe I need to show you a little mercy. You think you deserve it?” He said nothing, not wanting to seem too needy and instead waiting patiently for your answer. Did he deserve it? He didn’t know yet. It was such a privilege to even be in this position with you. Your hand stroked across his cheek again. “I think you do. Poor baby, let’s put your hands at work somewhere else.”

He quickly got the hint, bringing one hand up to grip your thigh tight and trailing the other all the way up the inside of your thigh and gathering your wetness between his fingers and bringing them to his lips to lick them clean.

He was back at work.

You were a drug, and he was addicted. He couldn’t get enough, he’d do anything to prove himself worthy for just one more taste. One more taste of that glorious honey dripping from your legs. And he’d continue to prove himself time after time because you didn’t deserve anything less than his best. You were his queen, and he worshiped you.

“Oh yeah, yes baby.” He’d found the perfect rhythm in you, the perfect beat to have you shaking and moaning and trembling around his head. His grip on your thigh was the only thing keeping you grounded on earth, otherwise, you would have floated away into the euphoria of how it felt to have his tongue against your clit and his long fingers curling just right and grazing against your g-spot with every movement. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning when you’d wake up covered in his fingerprints and lovebites and wear them like little secret trophies. And you couldn’t wait to go about your day with the lingering thought that someone like this awaited you at home to tend to your every need like this. Nobody you talked with throughout the day knew of the little markings of your late-night adventures that were kept hidden away under your clothes. Nobody but Mat. His fingerprints would be embedded in your skin as if your body wanted to remember every crevice of the way he touched you, his teeth would be tattooed on your shoulder, his face and fingers would still taste slightly of you from the night before. His fingers would delicately graze every mark he left, asking if it hurt and asking if it was worth it, smiling and passing compliments and praise back and forth because that’s the kind of love you had. The kind that could go from nasty and wild to soft and delicate, the kind that could be both at once.

“Good, good, good boy. Ohhh, so good for me, baby. You know that? You’re the best. Always treating me so well. Making me feel so good.”

“(Y/N)...”

You swiped your hand over his forehead and brushed his hair away from his sweaty brow, locking eyes in a delicate moment. “Make me cum, baby, please.”

“Of course, my queen.” The words were spoken into soft flesh as he came back for the final stretch, his cock painfully hard and needy for your hand, your mouth, your attention, beading with precum as Mat grinded helplessly at nothing, just looking for any friction. Just a little bit longer, he knew, and he’d get his reward. Just a little bit longer.

He could barely breathe, the further in you pulled him, just surrounded by your scent and your heat and your wetness, but what need did he have for breath when you were gifting him the most valuable thing in existence? Yourself, your heart, the sweet, sweet nectar dripping from your core, the birdsong of moans falling from your lips, the choir of angel’s voices from your lips that cried his name. That was all he needed.

Finally, finally, your grip loosened from his hair and your legs fell limp and weak onto his shoulders. He gave you a moment to breathe, to collect yourself, and rest on him before continuing on. He stood, lifting you with him and helping you settle your feet onto the floor, shaky and off-balance.

“Woah, Maty.”

“Did I do good?”

“Like always, pretty boy.” You tilted your head up to see him finally extended to his full height, once again reminded of how powerful you were to have someone so much bigger than you down on his knees for you. “Good, good boy. Always so amazing for me, so willing, so selfless, so giving. I love you. Mat. You deserve the world for being so good.”

“I love you too.”

“Seriously, thanks for tonight.”

“Mhmm, any day, anything for my queen. Thank you for existing, you fucking goddess.”

“Mmm.” You shared a sweet kiss, dripping with love and adoration and care for one another, your eyes locked together in an intimate embrace before your arms slid from around his shoulder. “Now, baby,” You back him against the wall, slowly dragging your hands down his chest, over the peaks of his nipples and the crevices of his abdomen and bellybutton, and right to where his cock was straining red and angry for attention, dropping to your knees for him. “Lemme make my good boy feel like a king. He deserves it.”  

"Oh, baby."

And when you finally took him in your mouth and his hand tightened in your hair, his whines told you that he was the furthest thing from a good boy. "Let me show you how a queen rewards her most loyal subjects..."

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

You Aren't Fragile

Prompt: After a mission gone wrong y/n is determined to get back into fighting shape, even better than they were before. Bucky notices, and is there when she inevitably wears herself out.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, injury to reader, swearing

Word count: 2K

PART 2 IS UP

Running through the forest, a car, a burst of light and I was on the ground. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think. All I could feel was the blood pooling out of my side. As my vision began to clear, I looked up at the trees, the clouds, snow just beginning to fall gently landed on my face.

“I am going to die”

As my vision began to get hazy again, I could feel someone lifting me from the base of my back, forcing me to sit up slightly. My vision focused and landed on a set of perfect blue eyes. Bucky Barnes. My best friend. My partner in crime. And my long time crush. It was silly, to have a crush with my best friend, so cliché, but as his eyes met mine, a wave of comfort washed over me, I wasn’t alone. He was here with me. I was ok. And then the world went dark.

I shot upwards in bed, causing a pain to temporarily rip up my side, before taking account of my surroundings. I was in my bed back at the compound. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, which read 3:24 AM. I sighed, rolling out of bed and changing into some sweats and a tank top, wincing as my arm raised, causing the wound on my side to flare up.

It had been a month since the explosion. It had left an almost foot long scar running from the middle of my ribs to just above my hip. Bucky had carried me back to the quin-jet, and with the help of Natalie and Steve, were able to stabilize me until I got to a hospital. I was in a coma for three days, and hospitalized for another four, before being ordered to bed rest for at least four weeks. During my time in the hospital, the team visited me as often as they could, but Bucky never left my side, bringing me books, and even reading a few to me when I got too tired. They were all so supportive, but a feeling kept eating away at my brain.

I had failed.

I didn’t have magic powers or a super serum to thank for my skills or to keep me safe. I had trained since I was a child, forced to become a lethal fighting machine, which was a great help to the Avengers, and I was happy to be a part of the team. But I was constantly questioning myself. Was I good enough to be here? Was I strong enough? The explosion only furthered my anxiety, and I knew I had to become better.

I made my way to the gym and made my way to a punching bag. I had gotten a bit out of shape in the month and a half on bed rest, but I was ready to get back on the saddle. I needed to be better.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax my muscles, focusing on the bag in front of me. I jabbed with my right arm, and felt pain shoot from my knuckles down to my injured side. I paused, trying to breath through the pain, before striking again with my left hand finding a very similar pain flow down my body. This continued for a few minutes, me punching and trying to move through the pain, pretending like the pain wasn’t there, all the while chanting in my head 'you've been through worse, you’ve been through worse’. That was until I got carried away, whipping my right leg to strike the bag, and as my shin made contact, the pain in my side radiated throughout my entire body, causing me to collapse with a shocked gasp.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees, my left hand gripping my right side, and tears flowing out of my eyes at the sheer amount of pain. I was only down for a few seconds before I heard footsteps rushing towards me, followed by a hand resting on my back.

“Y/n what happened are you doing”? It was Bucky. Of course it was. The man who always found me at my weakest.

“Go away”! I yelled, shoving him away which only resulted in more pain, resulting in me falling into the same position as before, both arms wrapped around my torso. 

“Please” I sobbed, not nearly as loud as before “Please just leave me alone” For a moment the room was silent, the only sound being me trying to suppress my crying. Then, I felt that same reassuring hand, lifting me to my feet.

“You know I can’t just leave you here doll” Bucky said softly, like he was talking to a wounded animal. He gently helped me to my feet, before I lashed out once again.

“I can do it myself” I said, pushing him away, only to almost fall again, but Bucky was there to catch me, lifting me off my feet and carrying me back to my room. This time I didn’t fight it.

He sat me down on my bed and I dangled my legs over the side, allowing Bucky to sit next to me after he turned on the lamp next to my bed. We sat there for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably only a few seconds. I didn’t want to be here. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and stop existing. But no matter how much I looked at the floor, Bucky continued to look at me.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, doll” He asked suddenly. I caught me off guard, and I didn’t respond right away, so he continued. “You were in a coma not even two months ago. You’ve been on bed rest since last week. You’re not even supposed to lift heavy objects why do you think you can do this”?

“I need to do it,” I said quietly, but this wasn’t a good enough answer.

“You don’t need to do anything, you need time to heal, you’re broken and-” I didn’t let him finish

“I’m not broken!” I screamed standing but Bucky stayed still, afraid that any movement from him would make my reaction worse. “I am not some fragile piece of glass. I was raised to be a killing machine! I’ve killed people Bucky! I’m trying so hard to get my life back, to do better, to help people but I am constantly reminded that I am weak! I don't have super strength, I don't have super healing, I’m just a nobody, and I need to prove that I’m worthy to be on this team!” 

The room was silent after that, Bucky looking at me with an expression that I could only describe as sadness. He slowly stood, walking over to where I stood across from him, gently bringing a hand up to wipe away tears that I hadn’t realized had fallen, before gently cupping my face.

“You aren’t a fragile piece of glass, and you aren't some nobody, not to the team. Not to me” He said, and that was all it took for me to break down completely. I rested my head on his chest, and sobbed, I let out every anxiety, and fear and pain I had been holding onto for all this time, and he just held me until all that was left was me.

“Why are you taking care of me”? I asked finally, being able to catch my breath and wipe my tears away. “I know we are partners and everything, but you came every day while I was in the hospital. You didn’t have to do that”

“Y/n. On that day, when the explosion happened, I saw you get hit, and the whole time I was running to you, I was pleading, praying, begging any otherworldly force just please, don’t let her be dead. But then I got to you, and you were just so still” I could hear Bucky holding back tears. “I couldn’t stand the thought of having to live in this world without you”

It was now Bucky's turn to look at the floor. “When you were in your coma, I never left. I slept in a chair right by your side, I read to you every day. Told you all the things I wish I had told you while you were awake… Please y/n, I need you to be ok” He finished, finally looking back into my eyes, waiting for a reaction.

“What did you say?” I asked after a moment, causing him to look confused. “What did you say that you wish you could have told me while I was awake”?

Bucky let out a breath, moving his hands to gently rest on either side of my face. “I told you how on the first day you walked into the compound, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. How when you made fun of Steve's’ whole  language bit, I knew that I had fallen for you. I told you that I wish I had made you laugh more while you were still awake, because it's my favorite sound and the thought of never hearing your voice again broke my heart. I told you that in the last three years in working together, I have fallen so, terrifyingly in love with you, and that I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t wake up” There was a beat of silence, tears now starting to form in both of our eyes at his confession “You’re not fragile y/n, you're the strongest, most determined, funniest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I need you to take care of yourself, because I don’t know what I’ll do if you get hurt like that again”

I slowly moved my hands up to meet his face, in the same manner his hands were on mine, before finally connecting my lips to his. He seemed to see it coming, because he took no time to respond. It was passionate, but not in a way that is lustful and rushed, but in a way where I was finally able to see him for the first time. It was slow, and kind, and it felt like I had finally come home.

He was the first to pull away, looking into my eyes and smiling, before reconnecting, this time with even more passion than before, moving his hands to my back pressing me closer to him, swiping his tongue along my bottom lip which I gladly accepted. We went like this for a while, before he pulled again once again when he felt my hands move from his face to his chest.

“Sorry, did I do something wrong”? I asked, panicked that I was moving too fast, which caused him to laugh, placing his hands on top of mine.

“No you’re not doing anything wrong, there's nothing I want more than to take this further, I’ve waited literal years to take this further, but you are still hurt, and I don’t want you bleeding all over the place when we get to there” He said, causing heat to rise to my cheeks, but also to cause a laugh to erupt from my chest.

“You do have a point” I laughed, leaning into him again, this time in a hug, allowing the feeling of comfort to come over me.

“I promise as soon as you’re better I’ll help you train and let you beat me up as much as you want until you feel confident, and let me show you how much I’ve been wanting to do this, But for now do you think you can stick to your bed rest? Just for a while longer?” He asked, pulling away to look into my eyes.

“I mean, I’ve waited this long to jump your bones, I guess a few more weeks won't hurt” I stated, causing him to chuckle “But I still want you to come read to me and stuff”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way”

______________________________________________________________

Hope you guys liked it! LMK if you think this should have a part two, or if you have any other feedback. Love you all!

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [7/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their  living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn  found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery.  Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Eren’s first thought was that something was wrong with his taste buds.

He took another bite.

Light and fluffy, with enough crunch to be satisfying, the cookie melted in his mouth with the chocolate chips it was spotted with. Sugary, somehow warm despite living on a table for an hour, and… good. The cookie tasted good. Even with the small scorch marks.

“What do you think?”

Petra was hovering. Almost vibrating with how long she’d held the question back.

“They’re… good,” Eren said. “Really good. What did you do?”

Petra’s face flushed with joy, complete with a happy smile that warmed the whole gym like unfiltered sunshine. “I bought new measuring cups.”

Eren grabbed another cookie. “What was wrong with your old ones?”

She grimaced. “I was using my mom’s measuring cups and spoons. She never told me, but she got them from a bargain bin sale because none of them were labeled right. My father came by for a visit and pointed it out.” Petra sighed sadly and snagged a cookie off the plate, but that smile still shone on through. “That’s what I should have opened today with: the wonders of communication.”

“It’s good you got it sorted out.” Eren hadn’t planned on saying anything about it ever, but Historia had stopped taking the cookies after the last week’s made her throw up.

For him, he had the problem of food starting to taste like food again. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have eaten Petra’s cookies without wanting to rip out his tongue.

Petra held out the entire plate to him. “Consider these your reward for supporting me all this time. No one else here is going to touch them, so you and Historia can take them home with you. Maybe use them as an excuse to drop by those friends you’ve reconnected with. Or that brother of yours,” she added. “He might have a sweet tooth to exploit.”

Eren took the plate and cut off eye contact so he wasn’t actually frowning at Petra. She’d had enough of that from him. “Aren’t you the one who said not to push everything at once? I just started talking to Armin and Mikasa again.” His thumb ran along a chip in the porcelain. “And it isn’t like everything changed anything between me and Zeke. It’s always been like this.”

“That’s not true,” Petra said, and before Eren could point out that she’d never met him so how would she know, she continued. “You used to never bring him up at all. I think you mentioned him five times today. By name.”

Eren hadn’t noticed that.

The corner with its folding table and loud clock he barely heard anymore felt cramped with just him and Petra. Historia was across the gym, suffering through Daz. Him trying to befriend the feral cats who hung out in the same alley his dealer had before their arrest had somehow turned into her problem.

She’d said she was a heroin addict today. Then she sat down and didn’t talk the rest of the hour. Apparently that marked her as accessible.

“It isn’t a recovery thing,” Eren said. Leaving out the shadow of Mikasa that lived in his mind and reminded him that he’d never gone and dealt with the dad part of what happened. People lost parents. Normal, healthy people. They got over it eventually. He didn’t need an extra boost of support just because he’d lost theirs so violently. Thinking he did was how the pills started. “Zeke’s just Zeke.”

Baseball-obsessed, hard to thank, hard to hate, hard to love.

Hard to have a full conversation with.

Their last one had probably been when he was six, and Zeke was explaining what was so great about a game where you spent most of it standing around doing nothing. He’d patted his helmet onto Eren’s head and carried him around the baseball diamond on his shoulders instead of partying with his division champion team.

Dad had offered to drive them. Zeke turned him down.

“You’re never doing nothing. You’re always waiting for the right moment, or creating the right moment. You watch your team and your opponents, and you think about the right pitch to throw, the right out to make—and if you watch them carefully enough, and practice hard enough, when that moment happens, you’re invincible.”

Eren had held on to his big brother’s buzzed head. “Mom says no one’s invincible.”

“Your mother wants you to stop picking fights.” Zeke looked up at him. “If you thought them through a little more carefully, maybe you’d win more.”

Eren remembered sticking out his tongue.

“You can’t win if you don’t fight.”

Years later, Eren glared at the plate he was holding and its chipped rim.

Petra was smiling at him with laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Recovery’s about us, Eren. Not what we did or what we got hooked on. Who we are as people. Just because it never technically broke doesn’t mean you can’t want it fixed.”

Eren didn’t know if he could have asked Mikasa, or Armin. Or Historia, because that answer was obvious and unhelpful. The question was all of the things he never should have let himself turn into, and it curled around his tongue like acid.

But he could ask Petra. He could ask the woman who’d made his mom believe in him a little by giving him the will to stick out every meeting when all he wanted was to burn everything he knew to the ground.

“Don’t you ever get tired of trying to fix things?”

Petra let the laugh out and squeezed Eren’s wrist.

“The secret to that,” Petra said, “is that’s what all those people you’ve already fixed things with are for.”

----

Eren taped a bagged cookie to Zeke’s apartment door.

An hour later, he had a text.

Outsides were a little scorched. You shouldn’t leave them in that long.

---

they weren’t even my cookies. i didn’t cook them, petra did.

what does he know about scorched

the first ones she made tasted like charcoal briquettes

these were so much better

like food

but go off i guess

In retrospect, spitting out a bunch of angry texts during Mikasa’s class hours and expecting it to help wasn’t the smartest thing Eren could have done. When his phone finally told him she saw them, he could practically hear the concerned silence reaching out his way and asking if someone needed to call someone for him.

I’m not on drugs, Eren clarified. Slightly less annoyed and remembering that Mikasa wasn’t used to non sequitur rants. Usually Armin got those. Because usually they weren’t about Zeke.

Mikasa finally type a response. I believe you.

Zeke’s just an asshole

               Yes.

petra worked hard on those cookies she bought new measuring cups

[…] […] Who is Petra?

friend

               Why did you give Zeke one of her cookies?

it was supposed to be therapeutic

               Oh.

Eren had known Mikasa for enough years to see her eyes tracking back to the beginning of the conversation and to know she was hearing all his words in exactly the intonation he’d stamped them out with. That was why he usually texted Armin. Armin’s judgment was in quiet sighs that passed quickly. Mikasa’s stuck around with the reminder that some people had no problem being their best self every second of every day.

               […]                I have time. If there are any cookies left, I could come over and take some for myself and Armin.

No offer of Eren coming over to their place, which used to be his place. He didn’t know if the tightness in his chest was frustration or gratitude.

really?

               Yes.                Your friend’s efforts should be appreciated.

[…] thanks i’ll let her know you love them

A grand total of one personal growth point coming from trying to reach out to Zeke, and it came from bonding with someone else over how badly it was going. Eren held his phone to his forehead and did the breathing exercises that didn’t work.

At least Petra had been right about the secret trick to it. Even if it wasn’t much of a secret. Eren’s friends had always been better than him at getting him out of the holes he dug himself.

----

“Is that real?”

“Pinch me, right?”

“No, I mean is that…”

“Yeah.”

“She’s…”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know she could do that.”

“You’re both assholes,” Ymir said. Doing nothing to change the surreal scene playing out in front of them. Her comment barely touched it. She was still bent over her bike, water bottle still held by nothing but her teeth, phone still in her hands, smiling. Genuinely. Not smirking. Not snarling or cackling or leering. Smiling.

It was one of the most unnerving things Eren had ever seen.

That covered a lot of ground.

“I thought… She’s fighting with Historia?” Eren asked.

He’d called for a break, and the first thing Ymir did after vaulting off her bike and pulling at her phone at the speed of sound was announce to the entire trail, “Eren, your jackass roommate just called me unromantic and shallow.”

Reiner was grinning like a maniac. For a guy who’d almost fallen over getting off his bike, he looked downright perky. Eren had worried he’d pushed things too far, but the bounce in his step when he flipped his water into his hands said otherwise. “She is.”

“But she’s smiling.”

“Yeah.”

“She looks happy.”

“She does.”

Someone Reiner’s size shouldn’t have been capable of giggling, but Ymir was already breaking Eren’s sense of reality. Reiner joining in wasn’t that different, and at least Reiner looking happy was something Eren could appreciate well enough for it to spread.

“What about Historia?” Reiner asked, letting his voice carry with a more direct grin at Eren. “How does her side of the fighting go?”

Eren had trouble thinking about the ongoing argument seriously without remembering tears and track marks. He couldn’t see the lighthearted moment staying if he brought that up. Ymir helped him out for once and didn’t rise to the bait. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of water by bending her entire head back instead of sparing a hand from her phone. “Historia? That’s really her name? Who hates their kid that much?”

Moment ruined anyway. “Don’t message her that,” Eren said sharply.

Ymir’s fingers had been waiting, not typing, but they stopped anyway. Her responding look saw through Eren and any past lives he or anyone in his general vicinity had lived, and Eren hated to admit it but he liked the smile more. He glared steadily back.

Her eyebrow quirked up. She tilted her head back for another drink. “Someday,” she said, “I’ll meet drug addicts who don’t have parental problems.”

“Eren likes his mom,” Reiner said, impervious to the tone shift.

“Sometimes.”

When he’d gone over to the house for dinner, she’d told him his hair was getting too long, and he should do something about it if he planned on running around so much.

“Now watch him not ask about the other times,” Ymir said.

Eren’s hackles rose. “There’s nothing wrong with my mom,” he said. “She’s the best.”

Ymir rolled her eyes so hard they practically landed in the back of her skull, and Eren didn’t know what was going to come out of her mouth next, but he’d probably want to punch her for it, and he needed to find somewhere safe for his helmet if that was how this was going to play—but they were both interrupted.

Her phone buzzed again, and the bizarre, reality-melting snap of joy that flashed over her face made Eren feel weirdly guilty about imagining what it would look like with a bloody nose.

He flopped his damp hair out of his eyes and slumped over his bike, watching a bird hop along the trail in front of them with a deep scowl that was fake enough to only make it through the third hop and the bird pecking at a piece of bread larger than its head.

That was a kind of happiness he could get. Hunger and feasting on things he wasn’t supposed to.

Eren swiped away more of his hair and looked down at the ground underneath his feet instead.

Reiner’s feet, done stretching, padded over the dirt, and his massive shoulder nudged Eren’s.

“You work at Steady Rock, right?”

Eren glanced up, because topic changes with Reiner felt safer with eye contact. “Yeah?”

“We got our hands on some coupons and wanted to know if it’s cool if we drop by during one of your shifts,” Reiner said, leaning further into Eren’s personal space than he was used to when they had somewhere larger than a cell to roam around in. “My little cousin is really into climbing right now, and she’s coming out for a visit in a few months. Scouting out places that might keep her attention is a pretty high priority before she gets here.”

Eren asked the obvious question. “Your family’s letting you watch her?”

Reiner didn’t quite look at him, and Eren wasn’t enough of a bastard to force it. “Her parents are coming along,” he said. “We’re only getting a few hours with her. But we want to show her a good time, you know? Convince them to let her back.”

Eren had spent every moment at work since Hannes’ latest discount series wondering how hard it was not to spend forty minutes of a promised hour falling off things and screaming about it, but Reiner would at least let him get a word in before he sped up a wall and got stuck. He snapped his helmet back on and shrugged. “Customers are customers,” he said.

Reiner chuckled. “Yeah, just… you know.” He cleared his throat and the next words sounded like they came out of one of the countless recovery books they’d both been forced through before their release. “Trying to respect your boundaries.”

They both looked Ymir’s way. She didn’t snipe anything back, too busy glowing.

Eren checked his watch to see how close to ending their break time was, pausing when he saw the clock over the running timer. He looked back up at Ymir, and the glint in her eye that said whatever was putting it there was ongoing.

“Time to head out?” Reiner asked.

It was a little early, but Reiner was breathing easily, and hadn’t gone after his water like the ravenous wolf he’d started out on these expeditions. “Yeah,” Eren said, one more quick, curious frown at his watch before Reiner called out to Ymir to cut her flirting short.

Weird.

He’d figured bad weird, since neither of them really knew how to talk to people and their starting point was all the yelling Eren wasn’t supposed to do anymore.

He slipped out his phone for a fast text, then put it away and got back to work, a little spark of okay beating out the worry and lightening his pedals.

----

i can’t text you during class, but ‘melancholic genius’ crystal wick can?

She doesn’t have my number. […] She was using Twitter.

----

It wasn’t because of what Ymir said.

Not really.

He would have done it anyway, eventually. She just brought it up when he was stable enough to do something with the reminder instead of stew in sad, guilty feelings that planted visions of pills in his head.

Eren scuffed his shoes on the welcome mat.

“The Doctor is Out,” it read, a sad smiley from a waiting room pain scale next to it, “But You Can Come In!”

Zeke had bought it. Eren had whined about how much time their dad spent at the office. The next day, it was on the doorstep, and his mom was telling his dad that they’d get rid of it when it stopped being accurate. Eren had said that wasn’t right, because they never told the people who knocked on their door to come in.

His mom never got rid of it, and it was back to being accurate. The doctor was out.

Before Eren could drown himself too deeply in that and why the mat wasn’t there when he came over for dinner, his mother opened the door.

“Eren,” she said. “This is a surprise.”

She looked worried behind her welcoming smile, but the kind of worried that made him want to stomp off and find a mud puddle to splash in out of spite. That kind of worry he could handle, even if it always ended with her trapping him in the laundry room and explaining how to get stains out of his clothes.

Eren rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Sorry. I can call ahead next time.” His shoes crunched over the welcome mat. “I didn’t know if I had to. I still have my key and I’m not here to…” He sucked at this. Worse than any text to Historia about which chart smiley she’d pick out for her mood of the day. His ears hurt listening to himself.

“I thought I’d patch up my bedroom,” he said. “I was going to do it even if you weren’t here, so I didn’t call.”

His mom raised her eyebrows at him. “You never need a reason to call your mother, Eren.” Before the barb sunk in enough for Eren to come up with a retort, she swung the front door the rest of the way open. “Did you bring tools with you, or are you borrowing?”

Eren followed in, the bag he’d brought along swinging from his shoulder. “Borrowing for anything that needs paint. I thought I’d use what’s left in the garage for that.”

“And this isn’t going to be like the last time you tried to fix the house by yourself?”

Eren’s ears and the rest of him went a very fine red.

He and Armin had lost an action figure down a sink. They knew if Zeke wasn’t the one watching them, there wasn’t a good chance of anyone deciding that the toy’s fate was anything but sealed, so turning up the volume on the movie that had inspired the soldier’s sink dive, they’d searched the house for a saw to crack open the pipe they were sure it was stuck in.

Eren could still feel the weight of his soaked t-shirt as he tried to hide Armin behind him in the puddle they’d created, his mom’s hurried footsteps rushing down the stairs at their yelps of surprise.

The main puddle showed up because they’d tried to fix the first without anyone noticing. Armin had slipped and almost hit his head when he had the idea that they could probably find instructions in a book somewhere, and if they were really fast…

They weren’t fast, and they weren’t quiet, and Eren’s mom had rolled in like thunder.

“Never,” she had said, holding him by the chin while his wrench clattered to the floor and the pipe kept spewing water all over the three of them. “Eren you listen to me. You are never to use tools like this by yourself. You find me, or your father, and if something needs to happen, we will use them, or show you how. You never try something like this on your own.”

Most of his parents’ ‘nevers’ didn’t last long. Loopholes or exceptions followed Eren around like weeds.

That one stuck. For Armin. The first time they’d had a problem in their apartment, they’d called home, just to double-check, before getting to work. It stuck worse when Eren’s mother snatched the phone from his father, who’d picked up, and told them to talk to their landlord before they took another step.

Which had come up before she shouted it into their ears. But then they’d had diagrams, and measuring tape, and Mikasa loaned them a hammer, and they could probably fix it by themselves.

The landlord hadn’t agreed.

Walls weren’t so hard, though. Patch jobs were one of the first home improvement lessons Eren’s dad put him through. He’d thought the house could use fewer holes, and taught Eren early. Eren could tackle walls alone. Even if they were his, and he had to walk by a closed door that made his heartbeat hit deafening and his breathing fall short to get to them.

Five minutes in, standing in the gaping mausoleum of a room that didn’t have any of his stuff but had scars all over, Eren wasn’t alone.

His mother, recently changed into what she called her work clothes, entered the room and went for the spackle.

“Mom,” Eren said. “What are you doing?”

“Putting my house back together,” she said.

“It’s my room.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“Yeah, but it’s my room. My—” damage. Everywhere. The holes from the fist he’d put through the wall, the hole from Zeke’s baseball going through the wall, the cracks from all those holes spiraling out and trying to link together, the tiny bits of plaster on the floor… Eren had stopped remembering his room had ever looked another way, but he knew those things weren’t supposed to be there. That was why he was patching them up.

His mother didn’t seem concerned with any of the emotional progress being waged. “I have a right to participate in my own household chores, Eren,” she said.

“You haven’t done anything about this for months,” Eren said. “You left it out for me to clean up.”

“Because,” she approached a crack by Eren’s elbow that hadn’t come from a punch, just a bad nightmare that felt like it cracked his skull just as badly, “any man I raised should expect to have to come back and clean up his messes.”

She ran her fingers over the mark before taking her putty knife to it. When she looked up at him, Eren realized he’d stopped working to stare. He realized it a second too late to escape the nudge of her hand on his arm, prodding him along.

“I did think you’d be along sooner,” she continued. “Am I that far down your list?”

Eren’s face burned.

He could feel her smiling next to him, and he wasn’t surprised when the next nudge was his mother reaching up to tweak his ear. “Or,” she continued, “am I not on your list because I’m your mother, and you don’t think you have to apologize to me?”

“I know you like apologies,” Eren said defensively.

“And I know how much you love giving them to me,” she said.

The rebuke was as gentle as she bothered with, but it still stung. Eren’s hands stopped again, and he stared into the wall, the crack he’d have to tend after the hole acting like a window into a whole different dimension. One where the only reason he knew he saw his mother that day was because he could remember shouting at her.

“Mom,” he started, all the good intentions and work ethic bleeding out into guilt. “I really—I...”

The words felt as hollow as his room did without pieces of him taking up the space.

“Fix the walls,” his mother instructed. “Then you can stay for dinner and tell me how Armin and Mikasa are doing. They stop by even less often than you do. Or that roommate of yours; we’ve hardly spoken. Frieda seems to be the only one of any of you who can remember her social niceties.”

“Mom.”

----

Petra would tell him that there was nothing wrong with starting out easy.

He didn’t know where to start with his brother? Mother was in the same ballpark, and as long as he kept taking steps forward, he’d get to where he needed to be in the end. There wasn’t anything wrong with baby steps.

There was maybe something wrong with thinking of his mother as one. He’d never been a great son.

Eren, stinking of paint and supposed to be going to wash off before dinner, was stuck in front of the closed door marking the center of the upstairs hallway. The midway point between Eren’s room and his parents’. The office.

Otherwise known as the gateway to most of Eren’s fits when he was younger.

“But why. Dad has two rooms I can’t go in, why does he get two?”

At the funeral after-party, the door had been open. No one had bothered closing it after his dad changed his mind and agreed to come along to the MMA tournament finals. Eren had told him he needed to see it, because he was going to come in first place for the first time, and maybe after he could talk to Mom and change her mind about how rough it was because it wasn’t really that bad…

His dad was the one who decided if the door was open or shut. He’d left in a hurry, so he wouldn’t be late. So the day of the funeral, it was open.

Eren had slammed it shut with his crutches.

Baby steps. Closing up walls. Cutting off some of Ymir’s ammunition.

Eren watched his spackled, paint-covered hand reach out and turn the doorknob.

On slow feet, he took a step in.

He immediately wanted to step back out. The blinds were drawn. They were thick, wooden shades designed to tell the sun its service was not wanted, and the entire room was plunged into night despite it being the middle of the day. Light from the downstairs windows was still bouncing its way upstairs.

None of it touched the office.

It smelled like dust. Eren could feel his shoes leaving prints in the carpet.

He’d never been allowed inside without his father’s permission, so by the time he was five, he knew the ins and outs of the room better than any other place in the house. He knew before he could reach which certificate on the wall stood for which achievement, even with every inch being covered. Whenever his dad received an award, Eren would talk him through which spot of the office had the most room to put it in.

Armin had hidden under the desk with him. Hide and seek. They were willing to risk it when Zeke was sitting for them. Then he’d turned that back on them and found them the second after he was done counting.

Eren wouldn’t fit under the desk anymore. It was big enough for one man and the work in front of him. Plus the piles on either side. There wasn’t much extra space. The picture frames on it were pushed all the way to the edge of the wood.

It might have fitted more if the back of the desk was against the wall, but his dad had liked it in the middle of the room, his chair facing the doorway. Eren had figured out, staying up late and listening to all the different footsteps in the house, that he liked it that way so he could stand up and pace in front of the window.

Baby steps.

Eren breathed in through his nose, exhaling slowly. His legs wobbled like they were trying to go back to the last time he’d entered the room. He was, but not like that.

In, out, dinner.

He passed the desk and went over to the corner, where the largest filing cabinet in the room stood. Without stopping to think about it, he dropped to the floor, cobwebs and dust joining the paint. If it was the other way around he’d have to come back and wash the floors.

Back in the far corner of the shadows, there wasn’t enough light for anything to glint back at him, but he’d always had what his mother called an overactive imagination. Nothing close to Armin’s. That defense had never worked.

He reached his hand into the dark and flicked off whatever bug tried to latch onto his fingers, groping around until his palm connected with a piece of cold, round metal.

Eren almost yanked his hand back out without collecting it. A flinch wracked his body like a shiver.

He grabbed it, and pulled his arm back into his chest, the rapid thump of his heart covering up all of the other sensations that came with it. His forehead was clammy, bangs sticking to it like glue.

He stayed on the floor for a few more minutes than he meant to.

Long enough for his ears to catch a different thump.

The lamp in the opposite corner of the room flicked on, and after an aborted pause that Eren could feel, his mother stepped over the threshold.

“Eren? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” he lied, into the dusty carpet.

She sighed, but didn’t walk any closer. The floorboards creaked under her stationary feet. Eren’s fist clenched around the object in his hand, and he made himself push his body back up, taking a string of cobweb up with him and blinking under the new light.

His mother did step forward when she caught sight of the new collection of dust all over his clothes. “Eren.”

“I already had to change,” he said.

She shook her head and pulled a dust bunny out of his hair. “You really do need to get it cut.”

Eren would blame the environment for why the only thing that he could think to say, and successfully made it out of his mouth, was, “Dad had long hair.”

She fixed him with a look that he had spent his entire childhood rebelling against. “Yes, and your father took care of his,” she said, coaxing strands of his hair apart with the tips of her fingers. “If you don’t know what to do with it, having more is always a mistake. All that exercise you do; doesn’t it get into your eyes?”

Eren crossed his arms and avoided eye contact. Longer bangs helped.

Only the angle he put his head at meant he was staring straight at the photos his father kept on his desk.

The dust blurred the images, but he didn’t have any problem recognizing the candid shot Mikasa had taken at graduation. Of him and Zeke grinning at each other, the summer sun beating down on both of them while Eren wielded his diploma like a relay baton.

Eren’s folded arms fell to his sides, the cold weight in one starting to feel hot enough to burn.

“I wasn’t going to stay in here,” he said. The words rang. He fumbled his grip and held the object out to his mother. “I wanted to grab this. In case you wanted it.”

His mother, full of smiles and competence for him all day, froze. She didn’t need any of the seconds Eren had when he’d raged into the room and found it waiting on the desk. She recognized the polished shine instantly. The watch she’d given her husband for their twentieth anniversary.

The one he’d died wearing, while his son listened to the ticking clock and stopped trying to be sane.

The one his son had picked up and thrown into a dark place no one would ever think to look.

His mom’s hands shook, taking it out of Eren’s hands. He didn’t think she saw the cracks in its face. She couldn’t know to imagine the blood entangling its joints. She just took up the watch, and held it the same way she’d held it out to Eren when she picked it up from the store. Asking for his opinion while Eren shrugged and told her to bother Mikasa with stuff like that, it looked fine.

“It was already broken,” Eren said. “From the accident. I didn’t help, but… it stopped working in…”

She looked away from the watch and up at his face. Eren bit the inside of his jaw, staring at the picture of him and Zeke and thinking about how hot that day had been and how no one except Armin had been interested in a color that wasn’t black for their robes.

Then he wasn’t staring at the picture, because his mother’s hair was in the way, and her arms were wrapped around him. She tugged his head down to meet her shoulder, and she smelled like sweat and paint and mom.

The tears couldn’t make it past his choked throat.

“I told Frieda I couldn’t even miss him,” Eren whispered. “I was too busy thinking about myself.”

His mother’s soft laughter buzzed his ear. “You got that from him.”

Eren would have pulled away if that didn’t mean leaving the hug. He didn’t think he was strong enough to ask for another. “What?”

She laughed again, kissing the side of his head and rocking him slowly back and forth. “Your father,” she said, “was a passionate, driven man, and he’d get so caught up in what he was doing I sometimes think if he didn’t sleep better in his bed he’d never have come home at all. It was always the next step, with no reason to look back.” Her head turned towards the desk. “That’s why he never made things right with your brother. He thought he failed so badly, there was no reason to repeat it all. Instead he tried to move forward with the damaged parts they had left, and…”

She sighed so heavily Eren wished he’d been the one to start hugging her. She pulled away slightly, tenderly smoothing back his hair and curling it around his ears. “I like to think we both had a part in raising that out of you, no matter how little you enjoy apologizing to your mother.”

“Mom,” he said, “I am so—”

“Eren,” she interrupted. “You have never been an easy child.” She cradled his cheek in her hand. “It is always something, even when you’re supposedly a grown man so far above our responsibility.” She sighed at him again, displacing the glinting tears in her eyes and using her thumb to rub away his. “I can’t say I’m happy with how you chose to be difficult this time, but… your father was a wonderful man, and truth be told, I don’t know how to be without him either.”

Eren fell forward, holding her as tight as he knew how and hiding his eyes in her paint-stained shirt. “…You’re doing better than me,” he mumbled.

“I’m your mother,” she said. “That’s my job.”

[next]

[nam-nam-joon]

along the shore

Pairing: yukhei x reader

Genre: meet-cute, summer friendship

Wordcount: 10.3k

Warnings: proceed with caution if large bodies of water/rescue breathing makes you uncomfortable

Summary: the vacation you’ve been waiting for so long is finally here, but the sleepy town by the ocean is holding more secrets than you think

this was written for @kacchand​ ~! i’ve been thinking of dedicating a few fics to the people whose content i’ve been enjoying on here immensely, and you’re first! here is your well-deserved vacation. i hope you like it :)

It was so early that fog still obscured the tips of the cedars lining the shore.

Well, early was relative - 8 am would be late had it been any other day you’d have to get up and prepare for work. But here and now, on vacation, it was fairly early, especially considering you had, naturally, planned to sleep in every other morning. Theoretically at least.

And yet here you were, comfortably toasty in soft, fluffy clothes, stuffed into a big red wetsuit, head topped with a thick beanie and with excitement in your heart.

The little boat, driven by one of the guides knowing the area like their pocket, didn’t look too reassuring; it dipped and swayed in the little waves that licked at the pontons, shortly below the main tourhouse up half a flight of sun-bleached wooden steps.

Half a dozen other people milled around the waiting area as well, all without exception holding cameras.

You felt around one of the outer, non-waterproof pockets of the thick suit - yep, your phone was still there.

Not to think what would happen if you’d take the expensive digital camera out on a boat ride like this, only to have an unexpected little wave knock it out of your hands and plunge it into the bottomless depth…

Your phone was an acceptable substitute, especially considering how you hadn’t come here to take pictures, but to make memories.

“All aboard!” Came the hoarse cry from the driver. Anticipation washed over the group.

You would really do it. All these months of work and saving everything you could, for this vacation, for this boat ride - to drive out to the open ocean, to see wales.

The excitement made your hands quiver.

On your way out of the safe haven, a sound nestled into the embrace of the coast, you caught he guide throw a few questioning glances at the sky.

They only paused minimally in their telling about bald eagles sitting in the trees and how everyone was on watch-duty to spot them.

The fog stayed behind with the trees as soon as the driver turned towards the open ocean, past a formation of rocks that were covered in seals.

One of them lazily lifted one of its flippers and waved.

“Alright folks, so we might have to cut this tour short today - we’ve been getting reports there’s some heavy rain coming in, and we don’t wanna get hit with that on the open waters. But so far it’s looking good, so, eh, we’ll see.”

Someone asked about experiencing a storm in this boat, and the guide gave them a lopsided grin.

“In this old thing? You’d be lucky if you came out alive. Nah, you best sit out a storm safe on the shore. Better, in a warm cabin with someone to keep you company and a good drink in your hand!”

Cheers and laughter.

A little way further out the driver slowed the boat so everyone could take a good look at a sea otter that was just floating between the waves, disappearing now and then before coming back up and cleaning its little head. Not long after that, the walkie-talkie crackled and an almost not-understandable voice spoke something.

“Folks! We just got news of a whale sighting not too far from here. Hang in tight, we might end up seeing some today after all!”

The murmurs and approving words didn’t last too long, after the clouds started to look a little darker grey, hanging a little low. But then another tour-boat came into sight, and you caught a glance of a rounded back with a minimal fin and every doubt you’d had about anything else was swept away.

The salty breeze blew into your face, left a hint of the ocean on your lips as you followed the others and stood from the bench in the middle of the boat.

Two whales were gathering food, the driver narrated, explaining there wouldn’t be sights of a tail fin until one or both decided to dive deep.

For a while everyone took pictures and admired the parts they could catch of the large animals mostly hidden below water.

Then the other boat started to move, the crackling of an incoming message disrupting the otherwise very peaceful mood. Something like the sound of something big rushing over the water, still far away, reached your ears. Confused by its origin you turned in your seat.

In moments the wind picked up. The breeze from before, salty, suddenly smelled like rain, whipped the long hair of a fellow passenger next to you around and had the boat gently swaying from side to side.

“Everybody sit down and hold on to the boat, the rain might have come earlier than expected - if everybody holds on, we should get-”

You momentarily stopped listening as a boy, surely younger and nonetheless taller than you, rudely shoved his elbow into your back.

“Hey, watch it.” You grumbled, annoyed at how disinterested the other was concerning his surroundings. Another shove that brought you to the edge of your seat, literally, and you turned around, ready to raise your voice when a small wave hit the side of the boat, the top of it spraying water on the passengers. Some of it got into your eyes and you blinked at the sudden sting.

Raindrops began to fall, the water like a wall pushing itself over the ocean.

Mind focused on the primary problem at hand - not being able to see without mild irritation in your eyes - you didn’t see the second wave coming, larger and wilder than the first.

It hit, unexpected, and your butt slipped off the seat completely, forcing you to stand to hop back up. In the short moment in which you still tried to find your balance in the swaying, now moving, boat, a third wave collided with the vehicle.

The edge of the boat had seemed quite high.

And then suddenly it wasn’t, and you couldn’t muster as much as a noise of surprise before the sky and the ocean switched places and you plunged into the water.

Everything got very quiet suddenly.

And cold.

It was cold, so, so cold, and you dimly remembered the safety instruction, some hour ago, and how the person had mentioned that the suit would automatically fill with water. What had been the next step in securing your survival in the water…?

You opened your eyes.

The pain was all but forgotten as you looked out through the surprisingly clear water, saw the whales - three, not two - move under the surface.

They turned and twisted, and their songs reached your ears through the water.

Peaceful.

Something glinting on one of their flippers caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes at it, they almost immediately widened again at the sight.

Someone was swimming around the gigantic animal, their hands rubbing over its skin. A silver grey tail shimmering behind them.

The salt began to burn in your nose.

Nothing changed, and yet the person - was it a person? Were you seeing things? - let go of the whale and paused.

Your thoughts started to grow sluggish in the treacherous cold of the sea.

The person was incredibly fast in swimming around its larger friends. Within seconds large hands reached for you and intelligent, dark eyes, found yours.

“Humans…” Mused a voice, so clear in your ears as if they were speaking above water. “You always forget the most important parts when falling into the ocean.”

A broad smile brightened the boy’s - or was he a young man already?- brightened the face in front of you as quick, nimble fingers worked to tighten the loops around your arms and legs that would halt the flow of water into the suit.

You could do nothing but stare.

Short, dull brown hair flowed with every movement; pearls and other small stuff delicately woven into it, shimmering and glinting now and then.

You tried to speak but the boy was quick to press the pad of his finger to your lips.

“Hush, human. Your voices were made for the air, not the water. Save your breath.”

Breathing.

Only then did you realize your chest hurt.

“Hmm? Human, what’s the m-” His wide eyes travelled up to your own gaze after lingering on your lips, where his finger was still mushed against. Then he noticed your hand, weakly clutching at your chest.

“Oh. I see.”

His eyes seemed to search for something above before reconnecting with yours, and for the first time you thought to see something like mild worry in them.

The bewilderment reached through the haze that settled over your oxygen deprived brain as the boy moved forward, one of his hands on your jaw, the other holding you close, and then pressed his own lips to yours.

There was no leverage to hold on to, or to push away the stranger, and your fists weakly connected with his chest.

His hands only held you tighter, your heart beating faster in a rising panic.

With the shock it was easy for him to tilt his head and open both of your mouths together in what turned out to not be a kiss. Instead, he gave you air, and even though your head still swam, the pressure on your temples lessened.

“Let’s get you back up, you don’t belong here.” Were the last words you could hear before you felt the water pulling at you as the boy swam forward.

Shortly before you could break the surface you went limp in his hands.

You came to as the boat docked below the tourhouse, wet to the bones and shivering.

It took three mugs of steaming tea, an abundance of warm blankets and a donated hoodie and pants you were ushered into in favour of your soaked clothes, until you were somewhat clear in the head again and your hands weren’t shaking anymore.

After the head of tours had apologized, along with the rude boy from before that had definitely been a big part of the reason why you’d fallen, you sat on a bench above a heater, overlooking the haven and following the raindrops that raced down the glass.

Outside the storm was fully raging, and the opening through which the boats entered and left the haven was hidden in the rain.

The young man with the fishtail wouldn’t leave your mind.

Had you hallucinated him? The combination of the shock from the cold water, the salt, the lack of air…?

You had almost asked about it, after the guide had helped you ashore, the small team from the tourhouse already waiting to get you inside to dry and get warm as soon as possible.

There had been something like a silent exchange of words between the staff, at least it had seemed so. Or maybe the guide had just quietly accepted their fate of being beheaded later.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

As if sensing your thoughts were circling back to one topic and one topic only, the friendly woman from behind the counter slipped around it and towards you, hand already extended towards your mug in a questioning manner.

You nodded and smiled, politely declining the offer to get another refill.

“Better.” You sighed, then. “Can feel all my toes and fingers again.”

The woman pursed her lips but refrained from apologizing once more.

“You had the unfortunate luck to be our one-in-a-hundred case… Good thing you remembered the safety procedure.” She lifted an eyebrow, and you dipped your nose back into your mug to humm in agreement.

Except you hadn’t, hadn’t remembered, had been frozen in fear and if it hadn’t been for-

“Well, I guess, the kayaking tour this evening will have to be postponed to tomorrow… doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon.”

As if on cue, thunder clapped in the distance. The woman frowned.

“Yikes. Stay as long as you’d like, okay? I threw your clothes into the wash, they should be good in an hour or so.”

You set the mug down on the windowsill quite suddenly as a thought fell into your head.

“The wetsuit… did you find a phone in it? I remember putting it in one of the outer pockets…”

The apologetic look on the woman’s face was saying it all.

“So sorry. There wasn’t anything in your suit after we helped you out of it. It must have slipped out when you fell.”

“Damn.” Your eyes fled outside the window, and resignation tugged at your heart. 

This long awaited trip had, within only its first two days, gone from the dream of your dreams to a very unfortunate collection of mishaps.

“But there’s good news too; The weather’s supposed to get a lot better in the next days. It’s not much, I know, but it’s something, hm?”

After your clothes had come out of the drier, as fluffy and warm as they had been before, the friendly woman from the counter lend you a sturdy, bright yellow wax coat to keep you dry on your way to the hostel, and you took your leave.

On the way there you stopped by one of the many cozy, tiny restaurants.

The salmon soup and the freshly baked bread that came with it somewhat soothed the loss that your missing phone had left in you midst; replaced with food it was bearable for now.

It still sucked, but that was out of question.

The afternoon was spend in the common room of the hostel, overlooking part of the harbour and the sound.

There was a guitar sitting in a corner, and someone picked it up and began plucking calm tunes that mixed with the chatter of the two handful of people milling in the beautiful glass house addition to the main hostel.

Wrapped in a blanket with your book the time passed easily enough. The rain was still pouring and you decided against going out for dinner. Instead you raided the ‘up for grabs’ section of the hostel kitchen, and later slept in with a belly full of noodles and sauce you had cooked up from the bounty of the free shelve.

The next day dawned bright and early, warmer than the ones before and without a single cloud in the sky.

The sunscreen you had packed suddenly didn’t look as obsolete anymore, and you generously applied it before leaving the hostel to finally explore the small town.

It was already past noon when you stumbled through a patch of forest, the trees unkept and the barely there path overgrown. The tote over your shoulder held a sandwich of a respectable size and two cans of lemonade, and your belly had been loudly requesting them for a while.

You had been looking for a good place to sit down and rest for about the same time. As the trees thinned out and gave the view free on an old walkway that reached into the water, you felt relief washing over you.

The place for lunch had been found.

It felt awfully touristy but along with your food you had bought a simple straw hat. Sitting here on the edge of the walkway now, it made the burn of he sun bearable.

Your toes barely touched the water below as you dangled your legs over the edge, leaned back on your hands and just resting after wolving down the sandwich.

The sun was glistening on the surface of the waves. A few seagulls passed by overhead.

It was very quiet here, the trees in your back doing a great job at filtering the noise from the street beyond them and shielding the seclusive lagoon from prying eyes.

Sat here the awful events from yesterday were almost forgotten.

Almost.

Until…

“Hi.”

The voice startled you. There was noone on the wooden planks behind you, noone on the shore; it took your searching eyes a moment to move to the water.

“I’m- I’m down here.”

There was humour swinging in the words but you inched forward on your hastily pulled back legs, wary. You spied over the edge and sighed.

A head was bobbing shortly above the waves; the same wide, brown eyes staring up at you now that had so curiously taken in your face yesterday.

Here, in the sunlight, his skin had nothing of its ghostly paleness from below water anymore. Indeed he was quite tan, although his hair was still much darker. The pearls in it blinked.

“Hi?” You answered, not entirely sure if you had fallen asleep in the sun and were experiencing a very realistic dream.

“Hey. You’re the one from the tour yesterday, aren’t you? I found this after I brought you to the surface, it was just sort of… drifting. This morning it wouldn’t stop making noise, Yuta said it was probably yours?”

His words didn’t make much sense before he lifted a hand out of the water, droplets of the liquid running over the skin that blended into scales on one side of the appendix. Clutched in his fingers, looking almost entirely human, was your phone.

“My phone!” You repeated, hastily taking it from the boy and drying it with your shirt. The screen lit up after you pressed a button, and even though one edge of the display was of a slightly distorted colour, otherwise it seemed to be fine. You looked back at the boy, still floating in the same spot.

“Thank you so much!” You blinked, and lowered the device until it rested on your thigh. “Thank you. Not only for my phone but...you know. Saving my life.”

The previously rather passive expression on the merman’s morphed into a big grin. One hand ran through the wet locks, messed them up a bit. Already they were drying under the sunlight.

“You’re welcome. Taeil was worried when they saw you fall.”

“Taeil…?”

“My friend! One of the whales you saw yesterday.”

“Right.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I-”

“Sorry,” He interrupted you, and you fell silent immediately. “Would you mind if I came up and sit with you? It gets super exhausting to keep talking up to you like that.”

“Um, sure.” You shuffled over to the left until there was more than enough room for one more to sit. After hastily stuffing the sandwich wrapper into your bag, you gave a thumbs-up to the guy below.

In the next breath he was already pulling himself up, arms flexing and tail splashing a fine mist of water over you before he settled down next to you.

You ran both your hands over your face and lifted your hat to brush back a few strands of hair. When you opened your eyes again you suddenly had to look up.

The guy was taller than you while sitting, his friendly face smiling down on you.

It was a fleeting thought in your head before your eyes travelled down and latched onto the same, glimmering, grey tail that had caught your attention yesterday already.

Up this close it was incredibly beautiful.

The scales overlapped, creating a shimmering slick surface that was able to follow every move the strong muscles did below.

It narrowed where it vanished in the water, the end concealed in the depths. The occasional single scale was brighter that the others wich, under a closer look, ranged from dark grey, almost charcoal, to a silverish concrete grey. The ones around the boy’s hips were overall lighter than the ones closer to the water, but the brighter scales dotting the whole tail were more noticeable there.

You realized you were staring and turned your head in the other direction, feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the clear sky entering your cheeks.

“First time seeing a mermaid, huh? I get it, we can be quite breathtaking.”

“Oh jesus christ.” You let out, glaring at the smug grin on the boy’s face. “At least introduce yourself before subjecting me to such horrible… horrible puns.”

The laughter, waiting to boil over beneath the cold surface, finally broke free after looking at the other’s face a little longer.

“You really think it was terrible, hmm?” He grinned, hands folded in his lap. “I’m Yukhei. What’s your name?”

“_______. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh please, the pleasure is all mine.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed again.

“Do you do that often?” You asked, after taking a sip from your drink.

Yukhei made a small noise of question and turned his head. Your eyes were trained on the horizon melting into the ocean in the heat.

“Save people who fall overboard.”

“Oh.” He huffed, following your gaze. “No, not usually. I mean, usually, people don’t fall in, and usually, on the rare occasion they do, they’re busy helping themselves.” He shrugged.

“Guess I owe you big time, then.” Your eyes dropped to where your legs dangled next to Yukhei’s tail.

The other watched you for a moment.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Many people forget everything as soon as they join us in the water. It’s not your fault.”

Your eyes briefly met with his and got stuck on the empathy in them. 

The fingers in your lap, circled around your phone, tightened.

“Still. If there’s something I could do for you - it’d make me feel better.”

Without asking, Yukhei’s hand stole behind you and grabbed the unopened can of lemonade.

“Well, if you put it like that…” He took a sip of the drink, paused, and looked at the label. “Ah, this one’s good. Um. Yeah, if you really want to, I’d love to get some licorice. The good, german one. Think you can get me a pack of those?”

He lifted his eyebrows over his drink, hopeful smile half hidden behind the metal.

“Sure.” You laughed, incredulous at his odd request. “I think I can manage that.”

Yukhei’s smile was a radiant as the sun above. “Great! Thanks.”

A moment of silence in which you both sipped your lemonades in silence. Then he spoke up again.

“So did you get a good photo of my friends? That’s why you were there, right? To take photos of the whales?”

You shook your head, eyes leaving the deep blue of the ocean for the brown of Yukhei’s gaze. “No. I have a good camera but I didn’t take it out to the tour - looking back it proved to be a really good decision because I was- Well I wasn’t anticipating taking a dive but the possibility was there. You know? I mostly went to see whales and make memories.”

“Huh.” The mermaid sipped his drink, lazily swishing his tail through the water below. “That doesn’t happen too often. Mostly it’s just ‘Oh I gotta take a picture of this! Oh I gotta take a picture of that!’.”

“Tell me about it…” You sighed into your can, eyes squinting at the glistening water once more. “This is a super beautiful tiny town, I’m just glad not more people are as crazed to ban everything they get in front of their lense on photos. It’s the worst when they stop in the middle of the walkway and if you don’t pay attention you just smack right into them!”

Exasperated you dropped the hand that had gesticulated wildly back on your leg. Yukhei watched you with interest, taking in every word.

“So you’re not a tourist-tourist?” He asked, tip of his finger running over the top of the can in his hand.

You shook your head.

“I mean, I do take pictures as well, but at least I try to… Not inconvenience anyone else while doing it. I wanna have keepsakes that I won’t just throw away after they gather dust on some shelve.”

“That’s a good approach.”

The time seemed to fly by the longer you sat on the walkway with Yukhei, even after you had both finished your drink. He was a great listener and soaked up everything you told him about the town you usually lived and worked in, about the town just behind the line of trees that the merman had obviously never seen.

Before long you glanced at your watch and had to hurry to excuse yourself because the kayaking tour you’d signed up for would depart soon.

“Kayaking?” Yukhei’s eyes glinted. “Maybe I’ll come.” His smile was mischievous, and you worried your eyebrows.

“But- That means people would see you.”

“You saw me just now?”

“Yeah but-”

“Relax, I won’t swim next to your boat or something.” He grinned, entertained by your exasperation at the prospect of having a mermaid trailing your boat. “But maybe you’ll catch glances of me in the distance - keep an eye out on the horizon, baby.”

He winked, with both eyes, and clicked his tongue suggestively. It had you breaking into a laugh before you shoved him back into the water. He went in with a great splash, hovering in one spot and beaming up at you.

“Meet you back here at sundown? With my licorice?” His eyebrows curved on his forehead in an adorable way, and you weren’t entirely immune to those round, hopeful eyes he gave you.

“Sure.” You laughed again, hoisting the tote higher up your shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You waved with the hand still holding your phone, and then had to run to still make the kayaking trip.

In the evening you went into one of the shops and eventually had to ask one of the clerks there if they had what the mermaid had asked for.

With a small package of ‘Haribo Rotella’ in your sunburned hands you returned to the thick patch of forest you’d been wondering by noon. The store had had a select few packages of other Haribo sweets as well, smurves and something colourful, too, but you’d stuck with the ‘Rotella’ stuff since it was purely licorice.

Another two cans of the lemonade you’d bought before were in your bag now, and as you made your way down the hill to the walkway you could see something bobbing in the water next to it.

Yukhei was waiting already when your feet touched the wood on the construction, hair dripping water on his shoulders and droplets glistening all over him.

He waved enthusiastically as you approached, hopping in place and reminding you very much of an excited puppy.

“Did you get it?” He almost shouted, and wordless you held out the sweets. “Omg yass!”

He tore into the package and fished a coil of the black stuff out, munching on it excitedly.

“Did you just say ‘omg’?” You remarked with a smile as you smoothed down the fluttery fabric of your summer clothes to sit next to the merman. He grinned at you.

“So what if I did?”

“I didn’t know that was something merfolk - do you call it that?” Yukhei nodded patiently. “Didn’t know merfolk used such words.”

He shrugged. “You pick up a lot, you know? I mean, I do speak your language as well, so.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.” You looked at him with new interest. “Where did you learn it? Do merfolk have school as well?”

He was on his third of fourth coil now and not showing any signs of stopping.

“Your parents teach you, mostly. And the human children coming to the sea sometimes.”

At your astonishment he chuckled, plopping another piece into his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Mermaid’s a fairy tale right? Except for the natives living by the coast. They know they’re not. But you can’t really trust anyone else.”

Uncomfortably touched you looked away. The sky was a dusty orange dulling into greyish blue the lower the sun, just out of sight already, sunk. The breeze was still warm, but the freshness of summer nights began to circle on the area.

“But… That means… You trust me not to tell anyone I saw a mermaid.”

You looked back at Yukhei who, after more than half the pack, had seemed to finally slow down. The sweets were momentarily placed aside as he leaned forward, his elbows on his tail and holding your gaze with an unfamiliar intensity you hadn’t seen before.

“It’s less trusting and more desperately hoping. Of course, nobody would really believe you if you told them you’d seen someone like me… The locals who know will say you got a bad sunstroke and the glittering on the light on the water fooled your eyes. Nobody will carry word outside this town except you, maybe, but we hope you don’t. That wouldn’t be very nice. Not only because I saved your life.”

Stunned by the calm sincerity in his voice you just sat next to him for a moment. The bubbly, loud demeanor from before was entirely gone and there was something intense in his eyes the longer you looked into them.

“I won’t say anything. I promise.”

“Good.” He leaned back, smiled, and the tension dissipated.

His broad shoulders relaxed and he sporadically took out another piece of licorice, going back to the somewhat mindless chatter he’d filled your conversation before.

It felt a bit strange, to have the bubbly, open, happy version of himself back so suddenly, and it made you think twice when regarding him.

His looks were easygoing and borderline cheeky again, but now you could see something simmering beneath it.

When you had parted ways that evening, the night sky dotted with stars already, and finally lay in bed, your thoughts wouldn’t let go on how much he had risked in the gamble of not only saving you but also returning your phone.

It was currently charging at the port inside one of the small lockers that had come with the room. The discoloured corner would probably remain, but after a few hours stuck in rice you were positive the rest would work just fine.

Before you knew it, the first week of your vacation ended already.

Almost daily were the visits to the ocean, to the little, hidden walkway. More often than not you could see Yukhei already waiting, swimming between the wooden pollers keeping the walkway up, weaving in and out of them. After a few days he was laying with his arms and upper torso on the wood, baking in the sunlight.

As you approached your meeting space today you found him laying completely out of the water, with only his fluke hanging over the edge.

To see his tail in all its glory  brushed all conscious thoughts from your head.

The boy seemed to sleep, his eyes closed and face relaxed as you crouched next to where his ankles would have been.

The glint of his scales was inviting you to reach out with a hand, to touch it, but you refrained and stuck to only watching how it slowly moved from side to side.

A sheen of moisture sparkled in the sunlight.

When a cloud pushed itself in front of the radiant orb in the sky the temperature went from scalding to bearable, waking Yukhei.

He scooted forward until he was on one height with you, at the edge of the walkway, yawning and pouting a bit.

“Why the long face?” You playfully jabbed an elbow into his side.

“You should have woken me up when you arrived! I don’t want to waste time I could spend in your company.”

It was difficult to suppress the fond smile spreading on your face.

“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you. Sorry.”

He shook his head and placed it on your shoulder.

“You were looking at my tail again, weren’t you?”

Now it was your turn to pull a pout. “Don’t call me out like that. Yes I was. It’s a very pretty tail.”

“You can touch it if you want, you know?”

You lifted your head and turned it to look at him. “You sure?”

He hummed affirmatively, lashes fanning over his cheeks as he watched where his appendix sloshed in the water below.

Hesitation made your hands heavy. But curiosity won.

With a single finger you poked the skin, on the height of where his knee would have been.

He giggled at the way you leaned down to inspect it better. The scales where smooth and covered in a thin film of slick, and it was almost like petting koi. His smile was still wide and the twinkle in his eyes still glinting when you leaned back after your thorough inspection.

The slick rubbed off and stuck to the palm you had hesitantly stroked Yukhei’s tail with and you were a bit grossed out at how it coated your skin.

The water wasn’t too far down and so you switched your legs hanging over the edge for your torso, reaching down to wave your hand around the water, hoping the sheen would dissipate. It didn’t, at first, and you went on to rub the fingers of the hand against each other before outright wiping the palm on the wood of a pillar. Still hanging with around half your body over the edge you collected your strength to pull yourself back up, before-

“Watch out!” Yukhei suddenly called, his hands jerking to your sides as you startled at his voice.

“Wh-!”

The blue came a lot closer and the next moment you were sputtering and coughing, treading water to hold yourself up while attempting to blink the salt out of your eyes.

“Yukhei!”

The merman was cupping the lower half of his face in his palm, trying and obviously failing to hide his laughter.

“You idiot!”

He cackled at that, head tipped back and with an arm wrapped around his middle to hold himself together while you glowered at him from the wetness.

Grumbling you went to the rusted steps of an ancient ladder mounted to the wood meant for this exact occasion.

The water clung to your clothes, dragged you back, and you needed to strain your arms to heave yourself up - were almost out of the water when two strong hands clamped over your hips and pulled you back in.

His name got half swallowed by a mouth full of saltwater and again you were coughing and glaring at the face of one all too happy merman.

He was effortlessly floating by your side, staying out of reach of your moving legs.

“Hm?”

He was giving you the doe eyes again, the fake-i-am-so-sorry-pls-don’t-hurt?-ones, and you shoved water at him. It didn’t yield much result as all it accomplished was soaking his hair, but the smile on his lips widened a little.

“Aww come on!” He circled you once, coming closer and tugging you towards him afterwards. With his arms around your middle it was easier to stay up, and the immediate fear of being pulled underwater by something vanished.

“We always sit on that dumb pier and talk, how about we play a bit now? In the water? Pretty please?”

All by themselves did your arms come to rest on top of his shoulders, after wiping the strands of hair from your face.

“You could’ve just asked instead of shoving me in!”

He was pouting now.

“You were slipping in already! I meant to save you!”

“The hell you were… you’re a really fishy person, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

He released you as you made attempts to get to the ladder, his expression now a little dulled at you continued lack of excitement.

“Don’t pull a face, Mr. Fish, I’ll come back in, I just need to take off my shoes first.”

He was beaming up at you again as you came back from stowing away the shoes, bag and other valuables you’d brought in a shaded spot under a tree, where it was unlikely to be spotted or taken. This place was pretty reclusive as it was already, but better safe than sorry. You’d already lost your phone on this trip once, you weren’t keen on that or worse happening again.

That evening you slept in early, tired as can be.

It had been fun, playing with Yukhei where he was most at home. The shallow water in the hidden lagoon had been a lot warmer than that out on sea, but even with the hot temperatures that had settled in after the first days it was still taxing on your body. Not to mention the exhaustion the physical exercise brought.

The next evening you brought your polaroid camera down to the hidden beach.

Yukhei in the light of the dying sun was something you didn’t want to forget.

It lit up his skin in touches of caramell and gold, caught in the pearls and glittering stones woven into his hair and the droplets of water on his skin.

You made sure not to aim at anything of his lower body, so to anyone who didn’t know, he just looked like a boy fresh from the surf, shirtless and with salt-swept hair.

There were soft scales running along parts of his upper body too, but to anyone who didn’t know what they were, they would just look like a funny reflection.

Yukhei hovered over your shoulder, asking to see the selfies you’d taken on your phone, gasped in amazement as you handed him the polaroid one and told him he’d have to wait until the image showed.

You laughed a little at how he spend the next few minutes sitting hunched forward, the small picture cradled in his palms, eyes fixed on the developing image.

“Look! Look, it showed up! It’s us!”

“I know.” You smiled at him and stabilized the shaking piece of paper and plastic he held out to you. His fingers didn’t let go and together you watched on as the final details showed up.

“You look happy.” You commented, peeling your eyes away from the keepsake and looking up at the merman.

“You too.” He mirrored you, squinting against the last rays of sunlight falling from around your back into his eyes. The smile seemed glued to his face the past days.

“Can I keep one as well?” His voice was a bit smaller than usual, his hands gripping the other in his lap.

“Mhm- Yeah, I think I could print one of the selfies and laminate it, so the water wouldn’t soak it. I’ll see what I can do tomorrow, okay?”

Satisfied, he nodded, slinging an arm around your side and tugging you into a hug.

“Thank you. I’m so glad I pulled you from the water. You’re a great human.”

You smiled and leaned your cheek against his shoulder and hugged him back, but when the sun had vanished completely and the darkness pulled over the sky on your way back to the hostel you were reminded how your vacation would end soon.

It was still several days, and yet…

The end drew closer with each sunkissed day you spend in this sleepy town, with Yukhei by your side.

He picked up on the somewhat gloomy mood you’d fallen into, asked what was wrong with a concerned expression and his head ducking down to meet your line of sight.

You told him, throwing tiny pebbles you’d picked up by the waterline back into the small waves lapping at the wooden structure.

He grew silent after that, and it seemed you weren’t the only one who had temporarily forgotten there was a clock ticking down.

You hadn’t explored nearly as much of the town and the surrounding area as you’d originally planned, and that was okay because there was Yukhei, but part of you knew the people who knew about your trip would nag you endlessly if you came back and told them you’d only seen a fraction of the scenic area.

For a while both of you stewed in silence.

Eventually your thoughts cleared a little again and you were able to focus on nicer things, but when you turned to Yukhei and wanted to ask him something he was already squinting his eyes into the distance, hand shielding his face. Shortly afterwards he turned and met your eyes, an apologetic look on his face.

“-Sorry, whatever you wanted to say, do you think you can keep it ‘till tomorrow? I think I have to go back, I’ve kind of been neglecting my duties these past days to come hang out with you and I think they caught on to me.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

He shrugged, already slipping into the water.

“Don’t know.”

And without saying more, he was gone.

You came back the next day, finally with the laminated selfie he’d asked about. You’d taped off the edges to make it even less likely for water to  get to the image safe between the sheets of plastic, had put it into an envelope, even.

But Yukhei wasn’t there.

You waited, more than an hour. The waves and the gulls overhead were the only things keeping you company.

Back up on the hill you looked down one more time; at the spot on the walkway you knew was the envelope with a stone on top so the wind wouldn’t blow it away. You hoped Yukhei would find it, if he came by later.

The rest of the day was spend walking the town and finally crossing some things off your checklist.

It was nice, to see so many other people, to hear different voices and laughs and bathe in the general, light-hearted mood, but the disappearance of Yukhei yesterday nagged at the back of your head and wouldn’t go away completely.

As the sun lowered and you came by the path through the small forest, familiar for your eyes already, there was a moment in which you hesitated. Should you go look, see if Yukhei had found the photo? -But he hadn’t been there in the morning, he’d said people had caught him slacking off, maybe he would be banished to work extra now.

Your feet hurt and your shoulders too; Forgoing to put on sunscreen just because you wore a light button down with short sleeves over a tank top. But the day had been warmer than expected and so you’d taken the shirt off eventually, forgetting about your unprotected shoulders.

A cool shower and a snack and then bed would be nice.

A bird flew past you, keckering and complaining in the still evening air, and brought you back from your thoughts. No. It’d be best to just head back for now. Tomorrow you could come by again. And the day after, and then another day, and the day after that… Maybe you could say goodbye before catching the bus back. Maybe. Hopefully.

The moon hung over the ocean, big and bright, casting silver light on your path and dipping everything in mystic touches.

There were light clouds coming in from the sea over the following morning. By noon they had thickened, rain beginning to fall.

The earth smelled rich, the scent of the water on hot stones surrounding you.

The hostel had provided an umbrella as you’d mentioned you had forgotten to bring your own, and now you were huddled below it, barefoot and in shorts to get as little of your clothes wet as possible.

The path down the hill was slippery and you had to focus on every step in order to not take a tumble over the rocky patches of grass.

Mud squelched between your toes as you stepped onto the sand finally. The pier was deserted.

Still you walked the length of it, the raindrops washing your feet clean while you moved.

There was the stone you had left behind.

A sigh escaped you as you crouched down, gently lifting the weight. The envelope had turned to off-white mush, the last, dry spot it had had under the cover of the stone quickly soaking.

Among the dissolving paper was the selfie.

“Well, at least I know it’s waterproof now.” You put the stone back, deciding against taking it with you. Maybe if Yukhei would come by, maybe he would find it. There was a lot of maybe and you weren’t ready to accept he might have just left like that.

The inside of the restaurant was warm and dry and nobody gave you dirty looks for coming in like you had.

The sky was still covered in clouds when you went to bed, afternoon spent exploring the local museum and art gallery, but the rain was that of a summer day, not pelting down too harshly.

It trickled down the window in the dorm room and whenever the wind came in just right you could hear the waves crashing in the distance.

It was still dark when you sat up.

Hands reached for the water bottle by themselves until your thirst was quenched and still you didn’t feel like lying back down.

Moonlight shone through the window and painted rectangles on the floor, patterned by the half-drawn blinds.

No sound came through the cracked window, and none came from the people sharing the room with you, either.

For a moment you froze in your place, not daring to breathe.

It was like the world was holding its breath alongside you, was waiting for something. Anything.

The breeze came back, gently carding through the long grass below the window.

Someone turned on their other side in their bed, the wood creaking.

You relaxed, shoulders dropping. Whatever it had been seemed to have passed.

The pillow settled around your face as you lay down, drawing the blanket up higher as a shiver in the still air crept down your back.

Even with eyes closed your ears remained wide open, sensitive to any sound.

Sleep began to reach out its hands towards you once more, until-

The world spun a bit, so fast had you sat up.

There it was again.

Whatever had woken you before, there it was again, and it was… Music?

A song?

On quiet feet you stole towards the window, opening it a little wider.

The wind turned and the singing voice couldn’t be heard anymore.

Your phone proclaimed the time to be one am as you plucked it from its charging place, shrugged into a cardigan and slipped into a pair of shoes.

All the clouds had left the sky and it stretched endless into every direction, littered with stars.

There were so many more than you were used to, empty spaces filled in by more glowing dots than you could count, and every time you had to pause, wait for the wind to carry the song to your ears again, you stared up at the dome with wide eyes and wonder.

The patch of trees came into view and your steps sped up.

You really hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a dream as you pushed through the bushes, eager to get to the other side, stumbling once and only barely regaining your footing as the slope began to dip further.

Next to the walkway floated Yukhei.

With steps as quiet as you could muster you inched over the wood, towards the mermaid drifting close by the edge. A small rectangle on his chest was a ghostly white and you didn’t know what it was until you stood next to him, saw the tape around the edges.

But by then his singing had picked up a note, had won in intensity.

He didn’t need instruments to accompany his voice. It was so rich, so deep and yet so melodious that anything else would have only interferred with the story he wove with the words that you couldn’t understand.

There was an ache in your chest growing as Yukhei’s song went on, his notes becoming more desperate until there were tears in your eyes because you knew Yukhei was calling for something, something out of his reach, but you didn’t know what and it brought pain into your heart.

His voice grew hoarse on the next verse and he broke off, closing his lips and swallowing once.

The silence filled the air around you, made the cool summer night heavy. Breathing was difficult and you hoped, longed Yukhei would continue.

But his eyebrows furrowed, creasing the skin between them, and he stayed silent under the stars, only drawing a slow breath every once in a while.

“What were you singing about, Yukhei?” You asked, crouching on the wood, cardigan wrapped around your legs.

The merman startled so badly he caused a small wave that swept over him, got into the wrong pipe and made him cough.

Bobbing upright in the water his wide eyes stared up at you, as if you were the mythical creature bathed in the light of a million stars and not him.

As if the moonlight didn’t put silver between his strands, place a silver glow over his shoulders.

“You’re here.”

You nodded, still looking down on him in the water.

“You- You came.”

Again you moved your head.

Yukhei seemed at a loss for words.

“You weren’t here yesterday.” You picked at a loose thread on your knitwear, averting your eyes. “I see you found the photo.”

He stilled in fiddling with the rectangle, flattening it to his chest instead.

He remained silent.

It must have been the longest time you hadn’t heard any sound coming from him before he gently laid the photo on the wood and pulled himself up to sit beside you.

His tail was so close to your leg you could feel the coolness that clung to his scales so fresh out of the water.

“Your song,” You continued, as it seemed unlikely he would raise his voice sometime soon. “It was so… full of emotion. What were you singing about?”

His gaze, erratic, fled your face and focused on the water rippling around his tail.

“I lost a friend.” He answered eventually, and although he didn’t whisper, it almost felt like he had. “I was trying to call them, pleading for them to come back to me.”

“I’m sorry.” You held your gaze trained on him until the brown, in the moonlight grey, eyes met yours again. Under your attention he stilled. “You must have liked them a lot if you were this desperate to have them with you again.”

He nodded, not losing the contact. His tongue flicked over his lips and the crease between his eyebrows returned before he spoke again, slowly, like he was picking his words with great care.

“They’re in a place I can’t reach. We don’t sing often. Your kind have made tales and warning stories of those you call Sirens, who lure sea-faring folk to their death by bewitching them. But it’s not like that. We protect what is most dear to us with the only thing more powerful than any weapon your kind could craft. We sing. But we don’t sing for destruction. We sing to make peace, to calm waves and to save those too weak to defend themselves.” He paused, the interruption minimally. “We sing for our loved ones, to heal and to lighten the mood and when they leave for their safe return.”

His face was uncharacteristically somber as he spoke, and you listened intently.

“Your friend,” You looked out over the ocean, thinking about how incredibly it had looked to see him swimming with the whales. “I hope they’ll come back to you soon. Even though that song was so beautiful, if it speaks of loneliness and the wish to see them again, I hope you won’t have to sing it too many times.”

Yukhei had taken the hand that had been lying on the wood between your bodies away, holding it by its wrist with the fingers of the other hand.

His expression was unreadable as you looked up into it, tried to see anything.

“Where is your friend? How far have they gone?”

The tips of his fingers were dry but still cold to the touch when they met with the skin of your own hand. You felt them when he moved his hand up your arm, to your shoulder and then across your back.

Tears collected on the waterline of his eyes as he turned to fully face you, looking down and taking in every detail of your face.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and you didn’t know what for exactly.

He closed his eyes before  leaning forward, his chin on your shoulder and his arms holding your tightly.

With the weight of his arms over yours it wasn’t easy but you did your best to hug him back, waiting if he would explain.

His voice was husky when he drew a shaking breath through the hot liquid running over his cheeks and collecting in your cardigan.

“I don’t know where my friend went, but it was because I left them first, but they’ve come back now and I’m so happy but I’m so sorry.”

He tightened his hug and in the breathless moment in which he squeezed you as close as he could you realized he’d meant you.

He’d been singing about you.

With your hands cupping over his shoulders you pushed him back a little to be able to see his face properly.

He squinted his eyes at you through sniffling a little.

“You were singing for me? To come back to you?” He nodded, biting on his lower lip and covering the hand you’d put on his cheek to wipe away his tears. “You wanted me to come back? But- You were the one who didn’t show up. Who left without saying anything.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he knew exactly what you were saying was true.

“I know. It was rude of me and I hate myself for doing it and- That’s not true, I was there when you put the photo on the pier, but I didn’t show myself which makes it even worse and I’m so sorry but when you said you were going to leave soon I just- I didn’t know what to do. Of course I knew you’d be gone sooner or later, of course I knew it shouldn’t mean anything to save you from drowning, but I still hoped… We would have more time.”

The corners of his mouth drooped down alongside his shoulders.

“In a way, I- I didn’t want the time I could spend with you to end yet, and that’s why I didn’t show- And also you said you wanted to see lots of the village, and I thought I kept you long enough but-”

You sighed deeply. “I understand.”

He closed his mouth and looked up to you ruefully.

“I’m sorry too. For not telling you earlier.”

This time it was him sighing, taking your hand from his cheek to his lap and curling both his palms around yours.

“Can we watch the stars together tonight?” He asked after a bit of silence in which he’d tapped on your skin in what you were pretty sure was morse code for something but you didn’t know morse and so didn’t know what he was saying.

“Yeah.”

Lying side by side, with your pinkies linked, Yukhei pointed at brighter spots overhead with his free hand, telling you about formations and tales he’d been told as a child about those who swam among the stars.

He described a gigantic whale, swimming through the sky, and you told him how humans had been to the moon and how there was no air in space and eternal cold that would freeze anyone who didn’t wear a suit.

“I don’t believe that.” Yukhei said after a moment of consideration. “Your stories are a lot less fun than mine.”

You turned your head to look at him, watch him looking into the endless dark, and laughed at his defiant comment.

There was no point in disagreeing with him or trying to prove what you had said was right and the space-whale he was sung to about wasn’t.

There were many things he wouldn’t believe if you would have told him, but you figured the concept of space was one of the most harmless he could choose to disbelief.

In the grew hours of dawn the day of your departure you sat in front of Yukhei on the walkway again, legs crossed and hands folded.

He had dipped down into the water for a moment before setting himself next to you again, and now your eyes switched between his hands, which he held cupped close, and his face; holding barely contained excitement.

“Okay, close your eyes and open your hands.”

“If this is a fish you caught for me, I told you, I can’t eat raw-”

He rolled his eyes but failed to bite back his grin.

“I promise, it’s not. Not this time.”

Mouth falling open you stared at him. “Wh- Not this time? When did you plan to give me a live fish?!”

“Can you please close your eyes now I want to give you your present.” He pouted, and finally you complied. Closing your eyes against the pastel colours of the coming sunrise in the sky, holding open your hands.

Something was placed into them; thin, with a small roundness to it at one point.

The wetness of Yukhei’s fingers brushed the side of your palms as he retracted his hands and then made a small sound, signalling it was okay for you to look.

Blinking down on your hands you took in what he’d put there.

It was dark with water but it looked like yarn or some other string, twisted and knotted and braided into something that was barely large enough to be a necklace.

Three small pearls were woven into it, a bigger one the size of your pinky finger’s nail flanked by two smaller ones.

You looked up into Yukhei’s nervous face.

“We give pearls or other pretty things as gifts, but my kind doesn’t wear bracelets or anything like that because it can get caught on sharp edges and strangle us; We put everything we get gifted into our hair, because it’ll hold on to it for us, but for you I had to improvise because your hair is dead and won’t be able to hold them.”

Your fingers curled around the gift protectively, but faced with this new information you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Your hair is alive?”

The merman nodded, hands clasped in front of him. “Touch it! You’ll see what I mean.”

Even more careful than when you had first stroked over his tail you now reached out with a hand, two fingertips brushing the darkened strands.

To your bewilderment and elation the hairs pulled away from the skull and wrapped around your fingers for a moment.

Spurred on by the soft giggle of Yukhei and the positive first contact you extended the rest of your hand and ran it over the side of Yukhei’s head.

The strands parted easily for you, reached up and placed themselves around your hand, slipped into the creases on your palm and held you in place for a moment before giving you free again.

“That’s amazing!”

Yukhei’s grin was big and contagious as you gave him his space again.

“Pretty cool right?”

“Yeah!” You sat in front of him for a moment longer, marvelling at him, all of him.

“You want me to help you put the necklace on?” He offered, but you insisted on trying it on your own first before having to relent to his help after not being able to fit the small wooden pearl through the designated clasp.

The necklace sat against your throat like a choker, and even though Yukhei expressed worry at how tight it was you waved it off and told him it was fine.

“Thank you so much.” You held out your hand, waiting for him to put his own into yours.

He did, thumb rubbing over the skin around your wrist.

“Thank you.” He echoed, smile wide and warm. It simmered down a little the longer you held eye-contact, until he looked away and cleared his throat.

“You’ll come back soon, right? I want to introduce you to everyone.”

“I have free time during winter again, but maybe I’ll be able to come by for Autumn break.” Yukhei groaned a the prospect of having to wait that long, pouted at you shamelessly.

“That face won’t get me back to you faster, I still have to earn the money it’ll cost me to come and stay here, you pebble.”

The playful expression replaced the half-hearted sulking, and he nudged your knee.

“Don’t you have a bus to catch?”

You checked the time.

“I think I have enough time for one last hug.”

And even though the saltwater still covered him head to fin, you held on to the other until the sun had almost fully risen above the horizon. Unwilling to let go just yet.

Months later you sat on the bus, face so close to the window the glass fogged over. There was a lot less green outside, and the thick clouds didn’t let through much daylight, but you could make out the rocks in the distance, the roofs of the houses.

In your luggage, safely stored underneath your seat, were gifts for a certain someone, alongside a neoprene suit and diving goggles.

Soon you would check into the hostel, to get rid of the bag. But after that there’d be nothing holding you back from venturing through the path of trees, down the slope of the hill and onto the wooden planks above the water - you’d see how many stones Yukhei had been able to gather and put there, one for each day he’d waited for you. And then you’d put them all into a single heap, a pyramid maybe, and wait.

You had a feeling it wouldn’t be too long before the familiar blinking of the pearls and glittery things in his hair would break through the surface, and you smiled to yourself, looking forward to being able to hug him again.

Soon.

You settled back into your seat and watched the world outside, watched the town by the ocean grow closer every moment.

i hope you liked it! ♥

[beca-mitchell]

Swiped Right (Hey, We Got a Good Thing) (1/1)

Summary: There has to be a rule about mixing Tinder with business. Rated M/E for sex.

A/N: For a donor to my birthday fundraiser. You didn’t send a prompt, but there wasn’t any way I was going to let you off the hook for this. There were rules! I know how much you love your AUs! Sooo, here’s a 3.1k smutty mess of coworkers and Tinder.

Thank you to my beta @cptkrieger.

The title (and maybe a bit of the premise) is inspired by "Digital Love" by Digital Farm Animals, feat. Hailee Steinfeld.

Word count: 3,159

Read on AO3 or below.

– – – – –

Beca wakes up in her bed, cold and alone. It was extremely tempting to take Chloe up on her offer – a very generous offer – to stay over again. She had promised that Beca wouldn’t be late for her first day of work, but Beca had thought of how beautiful Chloe’s apartment had been, compared to the clanging pipes and shoddy handiwork of her own charming little apartment. Nothing like the clean white walls and glass windows of Chloe’s high-rise in midtown.

She never did figure out what Chloe did for a job. There was not really a lot of room for talking. Thank you, Tinder, Beca thinks.

In any case, if she took Chloe up on her offer, it was likely that Beca would have been very late to work, to say the least. So she settled on declining, but promising to call Chloe again – probably over the weekend – so they could schedule another date. Hopefully with more eating food and getting to know each other and less–

Well. It wasn’t like she didn’t get to know Chloe. She vividly recalls the way Chloe’s skin felt beneath her hands, as inch-by-inch, Chloe slowly revealed more and more skin, right down to the gorgeous and likely expensive black lace lingerie set. Beca had fun peeling that off Chloe’s body. She had even more fun figuring out what sounds Chloe could make with Beca’s tongue buried as far as it could go in Chloe’s wet cunt.

Fuck.

Beca jolts, not realizing she had nodded off. She attempts to rid herself of the last vestiges of Chloe’s moans from her brain and fumbles for her phone on the bedside table. Peering at the time, she is relieved to see that she is still “early” by her standards and there is more than enough time to make herself presentable.

Upon catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she is horrified to see the fading hickey on her neck like a reminder of two nights ago. She had hoped it would fade in time, but as persistently as Chloe had been in bringing Beca to orgasm not once, not twice, but three times in one go, her hickeys appear to be equally persistent.

“Damn it,” Beca mutters. She prods at the bruised skin, relieved to note it isn’t particularly tender. She would prefer not to have to waste time on extra make-up, but she figures it wouldn’t be professional if her new boss had to stare at the evidence of Beca’s fun weekend all day. Beca doesn’t really know who her boss is as of yet, just that she is a woman who apparently would prefer if Beca referred to her as “Miss Beale” on the job. The other assistant and HR manager who interviewed Beca all those weeks ago had seemed fairly terrified yet completely in awe of their tyrant boss. Beca enjoys imagining what this woman will be like. On some days, she has slicked back hair and black suits for days. On others, she’s elderly and stern, with glasses persistently perched on the bridge of her nose. Most other days, she’s faceless and Beca resigns herself to her own curiosity. 

This is a job, like any other. Enough to placate her father while she works on her music. The extra money will help even if Beca thinks her YouTube money is more than enough for the moment. Alas, New York is expensive.

Holding up her concealer, she sighs and begins to get ready for her first day of work.

 – – – – – – – – – –

 Chloe Beale is having a Bad Monday Morning. Typically her New York mornings are far from pleasant, especially considering she works in midtown. The short walk from her apartment to the office means that she has to interact with at least ten people. ‘Interact’ is a little loose. Depending on the day, she passes at least four catcallers, at least two people trying to sell her on some cause or another, and at least twenty tourists. For whatever reason, today is even worse.

It likely might be that she had to get herself off the previous night because she had sorely missed her last bedmate. She is not typically one to resign herself to lusting over bed-warmers and Tinder dates, but Beca had been something different. Somebody special, she’s sure of it. Even while she had been steadily fucking Beca from behind, firmly rocking her fingers deeper through Beca’s folds and Beca had been an incoherent sobbing mess, Chloe had somehow wanted nothing more than to curl up with this woman and learn more about her life. Beca had been remarkably interesting over drinks – bright eyed and passionate in a way that sparked something new and something old in Chloe.

She missed passion.

It also didn’t help that Beca had been amenable to sleepy morning sex the next day. As the sunlight peeked through Chloe’s automatic curtains and she had tangled her fingers into Beca’s hair, it had felt like the most stability in a long time. Like warmth that had nothing to do with the way the sunlight began to stream in.

“I’ll see you again, right?” Chloe had asked, trying not to sound desperate. “I...had fun, honestly.”

Beca had softened and pulled her scarf around herself – a beautiful vintage scarf, passed down from her mother – before nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Tonight?” Chloe had tried hopefully. “We can...we can get dinner this time,” she said. She had blushed a little at the way Beca’s eyes track down her barely clothed body. She had tossed on an old t-shirt and tiny shorts to whip up a quick mug of coffee for Beca before she left. “You can uh,” she cleared her throat. “Totally stay over again, if that’s what you want.”

Beca’s face had fallen. “Maybe not tonight. I have work tomorrow.” She wrinkled her nose. “I heard you should be...early for your first day of work at a new job. Something like that anyway.”

Chloe sighs at the memory and tries not to think about the slow heat building in her chest and between her legs. Beca had kissed her goodbye – one of the sweetest and most tender kisses Chloe had ever experienced in her life.

“Good morning to you too,” Aubrey greets when Chloe brushes past her on the way out of the elevator. “We have that big quarterly report due at the end of this week. Don’t forget, Chloe.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Chloe calls back. She makes a beeline for her office, hoping against hope that Gabrielle has remembered to at least get her coffee early today. 

“Here you go, Ms. Beale,” Gabrielle chimes in from her left suddenly, nearly making Chloe drop her handbag. “Soy latte?”

“Thank you,” Chloe murmurs gratefully. She accepts the cup, pleased by the warmth in her hand. “Agenda?”

“Nothing too heavy until around eleven. Harris wants to see you about the campaign we’re going to start up soon for the Superbowl. Oh, and your new assistant starts today.”

Chloe blinks. “Aren’t you my new assistant?”

“Well...another new assistant?” Gabrielle tries. “We need more talented hands on board, I guess.”

Talented hands.

Chloe is thrown into another memory, unbidden. She sighs heavily and settles into her chair. “Okay, just...give me a moment. Can you print out copies of the contract?”

“Sure thing.”

On that ridiculously-chipper-for-a-Monday note, Chloe rests her chin on her palm and slips into her memory more fully, wondering if this is bordering on desperation. Or if she is so past the desperate line that it doesn’t really even matter.

 – – – – – – – – – –

  Beca's hands are everywhere. “Talented hands,” Chloe had joked earlier in the evening over drinks, when Beca had explained that she was a musician and struggling producer.

She is decidedly not laughing now as Beca’s hands slide down her shoulder blades, like determined little caresses. Hands on her hips, her ass, grabbing her thighs. Everywhere all at once, like Beca can’t quite decide which part of Chloe she wants to hold on to, so she pays every inch of skin equal attention.

The sensation makes Chloe’s head spin. She has to gasp for air and pull away from their kiss so she can just take a moment to take in Beca. Beca, lying beneath her, chest heaving. Chloe bites her lip, sitting up more fully astride Beca’s narrow hips. Boldly, she rests her palms on Beca’s nipples, shivering a little when they press back insistently against her hand. Beca whimpers, the sound escaping past kiss-swollen lips.

“Touch me,” Beca rasps. “Please.”

Chloe pouts. “I want you to touch me.”

There is something in the way Beca succumbs to obedience. The way she draws her lower lip between her teeth and runs her hands up Chloe’s thighs in a faux-soothing manner. Her thumbs begin to dip further down, nearing the place where Chloe aches for her. Where she is wet and smearing traces of her own arousal across Beca’s lower belly.

And all because Beca touched her when asked.

Talented hands, indeed. 

– – – – – – – – – –

“Your new assistant is here.”

“Send them in,” Chloe says distractedly. She sighs when the door creaks open again and stands from her desk. Gabrielle moves to sit in the corner of her office while–

Beca ?

Chloe barely stops herself from saying Beca’s name aloud.

Because she’s there. She is literally standing there, wearing a cute scarf and jacket. Her hair is up, which is different, but not unpleasant.

Oh crap, Chloe thinks, as her Monday spirals to new depths.

“Hi,” Beca says, more timid than Chloe remembers her.

(It has nothing to do with how Beca had rigorously chanted her name, back arched and head tilted back.)

“Who are you?” Chloe blurts before her brain can really reconnect with her mouth.

A million images must pass through both their minds. She can see it on Beca’s face.

Beca glances quickly at Gabrielle. “I’m your...new assistant.” She blinks. “Beca. Beca Mitchell.”

Each step Chloe takes towards Beca is another step closer to the person who has been on her mind for the last forty-eight hours at least. Though the blazer isn’t quite the leather jacket Beca had sported over her pretty red dress, this look is equally appealing.

“Nice to meet you, Beca,” Chloe says as steadily as she can. Beca reaches out to shake her hand, her eyes darting around Chloe’s face with a kind of nervous energy. “I can tell we’re going to work so well together.”

 – – – – – – – – – –

 “So,” Chloe says once she has collected herself. She moves to stand by Beca at the counter in the thankfully empty kitchenette area. She watches Beca fumble with the Keurig cup she had been holding and gives her a moment to compose herself. When Beca turns to face her, Chloe is struck by how beautifully blue Beca’s eyes are. “Am I going to see you again?”

“I’ll text you,” Beca replies, but it is light and playful. “Uh, why didn’t you tell me you worked here? I could have asked for a transfer or something if we had, I don’t know. Figured this out earlier.” Her eyes flit everywhere across Chloe’s face, lingering on her eyes, then her lips.

Chloe’s heart races. “Is there a reason why...you would need to transfer?”

Beca’s brow furrows like she is attempting to figure Chloe out. “Uh, because...isn’t this a conflict of interest? Or like. Is there a rule about having fucked your boss?”

“Who was doing the fucking?” Chloe asks before she can help herself.

Beca’s eyes widen almost comically, then she seems to relax. The tiniest of smirks spreads across her lips. “I think it was pretty even.”

Beca looks so smug. Chloe kind of just wants to kiss that smug expression right off her face.

Beca takes her staring as something else. “Oh shit,” she says quickly. “Am I going to be fired? Like, actually fired?”

Chloe shakes her head quickly. “No, just. We’ll figure something out.” She glances down at Beca’s hand and reaches out to graze the back of her hand with her fingers. “I...do want to see you again. And we probably shouldn’t be working so closely together. But I’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Beca relaxes at that. Her entire body softens and sags. It is completely adorable. She adjusts her scarf nervously – the same one she wore on their date, Chloe notes with delight – and nods. “Okay, I trust you. And I do want to have another date. WIth more talking and stuff. But I wouldn’t be opposed to...staying over again,” she mumbles. “If that’s appropriate for me to say, Ms. Beale.”

Chloe’s eyes flash. “Meet me at the bathroom on the fifteenth floor. The one at the end of the West hallway.” She checks her watch. “At around two-thirty.” 

Beca swallows. “Uh, sure.” She tries not to nod too eagerly. “Sure, two-thirty. You got it, boss.”

Chloe straightens and part of her professional mask slips back across her face. “Meanwhile, I’ve got some work for you to do.”

 – – – – – – – – – –

 It ends up being very difficult for Beca to focus on anything, really. Not while Chloe leans over her shoulder. Despite the appropriate distance, Beca still catches a whiff of Chloe’s perfume. She can still feel her body heat radiating against her shoulder.

Chloe’s slender fingers pointing out specific folders and charts on the company server.

A quick glance at the way Chloe’s lips twitch into somewhat of a smirk – an impressive smirk, Beca would know – and Beca knows Chloe is playing with her.

 – – – – – – – – – –

  Beca thinks that Chloe’s laugh – her giggle – is the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. She watches in awe as Chloe slumps against her pillows. Absentmindedly, Beca swipes at the trace of wetness along her chin and climbs up Chloe’s body slowly and surely so that they are pressed together intimately once more.

“Aren’t you tired?” Chloe asks softly. Her fingers run through Beca’s hair. She doesn’t stop smiling.

Beca steals a quick kiss from Chloe’s lips. Quick so she can retreat and look at Chloe’s smile again.

God, she’s cheesy. It’s weird though, Beca doesn’t feel any urge to retreat or run away. She just wants more of it.

She wants to know if it is normal to feel such an intense connection to somebody, despite their seemingly limited communication. The whole premise of matching with each other just to hook up. The whole idea of never seeing Chloe again.

The idea of that makes her heart pound uncomfortably, so she kisses Chloe again, well into the night.

 – – – – – – – – – –

 The good news is, Aubrey finally agrees to take Beca off her hands after an inquisition that lasted at least twenty-five minutes. Maybe thirty.

The bad news is, that means Beca will be working exactly one floor above Chloe and she won’t get to see her often.

The fantastic news is, Chloe won’t feel so guilty about wanting to date Beca because she’s no longer Chloe’s subordinate. And they’re barely considered co-workers – at least not so strictly – because Aubrey runs her team like a tight ship.

There might be additional bad news in that Beca has no idea what’s in for her, when she starts working for Aubrey.

But Aubrey promised a mild pay increase.

 – – – – – – – – – –

 Two-thirty can’t come fast enough. But when it does–

“Fuck,” Beca rasps. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this all day.” 

Chloe lifts her head from Beca’s neck, stilling her hand. “You have?” she asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. She had shared the Great News with Beca earlier, though Beca had been confused as to why Gabrielle and another intern had given her sympathetic looks.

But that’s all for another day (tomorrow).

Now, Beca looks like she might start to cry. “Y-yeah. Yeah,” she grits out. Her hips shift restlessly with some difficulty with how Chloe has her pinned against the wall. “God, don’t stop, Beale.”

Beca hadn’t known her last name before – two nights ago. She hadn’t known anything except “Chloe” or “Chlo” or various, stuttered iterations of Chloe’s name.

So it sends a bolt of arousal straight to Chloe’s core when Beca moans her last name like it’s the last thing she will ever do.

Chloe curls her fingers in a beckoning motion. Beca’s head thumps back against the wall, exposing her neck for Chloe to nibble at playfully. 

“Harder?” she asks innocently, like she’s asking Beca whether she finished her photocopying task. Not like she’s asking if Beca needs her to fuck her into oblivion in the middle of the day in a private bathroom.

“God yes,” Beca moans out. It echoes nicely around the room. Chloe is so grateful that past two-thirty, this floor is basically empty.

“Tell me how much harder,” Chloe orders.

“Chloe,” Beca whimpers.

“Beca,” she responds, leaning in to brush her nose against Beca’s jaw. “Tell me.” A muffled scream sounds from Beca’s throat. Slowly pushing Beca back against the ledge so she is more firmly stabilized, Chloe lifts her now-free hand to Beca’s mouth without really pressing down on her lips. “I want to hear you,” she murmurs.

Instead of responding again, Beca takes her fingers into her mouth and sucks. It makes Chloe jolt hard against Beca’s body and she becomes more cognizant of her growing need between her legs – how her clit seems to ache and pulse with each shift of her fingers inside Beca. Beca, for her part, finally releases Chloe’s fingers from her mouth and gasps out a series of short, steady breaths.

Chloe twists her wrist and thrusts hard, once more. 

Beca falls apart in her arms breathlessly. 

Chloe trails kisses up and down Beca’s neck and jaw. She had been amused to see Beca examining her hickey in the mirror earlier. She doesn’t intend to leave another one, but the fact that she left one at all (“Oops, I really didn’t mean to,” she had said apologetically without any real apology in her voice.) had sent the hottest streak of possession through her body. Now, she just wants to coax Beca down from her orgasm and linger in the moment as long as possible.

“Was that congrats-on-getting-the-job sex?” is the first thing Beca asks when she catches her breath.

“I mean, who’s to say?” Chloe says, backing away so Beca can push herself from the counter ledge. “There should probably be some thank-you-for-getting-me-the-job sex. Maybe.” She raises an eyebrow, waiting to see what Beca will do or say.

Beca raises an eyebrow back – Chloe was always going to lose this battle – and slowly sinks to her knees.

“You know,” Chloe says in a matter-of-fact tone. “This is the cleanest bathroom in our company. Maybe the building.” Words keep spilling out of her as Beca’s hands begin pulling her underwear down. “Don’t ask me why. It just–” her breath hitches. “It just is,” she whispers, the moment Beca’s lips start trailing up her thigh.

Beca, as it turns out, is very grateful for the job.

fin.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 27 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Thanks as always for the likes and comments, loves! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet bonded with Katya so much that she brought her along to Paris.  

This Chapter: Club night wraps up, Violet and Sutan reconnect, and someone makes a big announcement.

***

“I missed you so much-”

Violet had to swallow a giggle, her arms around Sutan’s neck, the man’s hands on her hips.

He had pulled her into a corner the moment they stepped outside on the patio, a heating lamp humming a few steps away.

Violet hadn’t had time for a proper dinner, so the glass of champagne had made her pleasantly tipsy, which was absolutely the only reason that she was giggling, the bubbling happiness in her chest not connected to Sutan’s words at all.

“I missed you too.” Violet could feel a blush rise in her cheeks, and she pulled Sutan down, their lips finally meeting in the kiss she had been craving since arriving. Sutan was such a good kisser, attentive and firm, leading where they were going with absolute confidence, and Violet allowed herself to drown in his arms.

She had no idea how long she had been standing there, when she heard a familiar voice. Violet broke their kiss, only to see that Pearl had made it out on the patio.

“What are you looking at, lovely eyes?”

Pearl was talking to a stranger, leaning in and clearly looking at the woman's tits, but Violet could see that she was drunk, Pearl’s eyes barely open.

“Nothi-” Violet was just to kiss him again when she saw the stranger throw a drink directly in Pearl’s face.

“Oh shit-”

Sutan turned his head, only to see Pearl getting slapped across the face.

***

“Pearl-” Pearl felt something cold touch her cheek. “Pearl look at me please.”

Pearl opened her eyes with a groan. She was drunk, really drunk, her entire world swimming, the only thing clear to her Violet who was standing right in front of her, the other woman holding a bottle of water to her face.

Pearl couldn’t remember exactly how she had gotten there, the edge of a sink digging into her lower back, but Violet had somehow gotten her to a bathroom, her eyes filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” Violet moved the bottle, gently rubbing her thumb over the red skin, and Pearl was torn between running away from the pain and pushing into the touch because it was Violet.

Violet Violet Violet.

“‘M fine, just didn't recognise her.”

“What?”

“She wasn’t a stranger.”

Pearl wasn’t exactly proud of it, but she had completely forgotten that she had hooked up with that particular woman before, her face not registering until Pearl had gotten slapped.

“Oh Pearl-” Violet whispered. She pulled away, running her fingers through Pearl’s hair and putting it behind her ear. “Here.” Violet held the bottle up. “Drink please.”

Pearl nodded, taking a sip. She could probably hold it on her own, but it was nice that Violet was holding it, so nice to be close to her.

“You should really keep better track of who you sleep with.” Violet sighed, taking the bottle away.

“Maybe.” Pearl sighed. She was feeling a bit better, her world no longer spinning as fast, though she had no intention of saying that to the other woman.

“Your makeup is everywhere.” Violet sighed, “did you bring a bag?”

“No.” Pearl snorted. “I’m gay, remember?”

“Gay girls have bags too.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Let’s just- Get up.”

“Up?”

“On the counter.”

“Ah.” Pearl pulled herself up, spreading her legs so Violet could step between them, the other woman going through her clutch.

“Here-” Violet pulled a makeup wipe out. “Lean back.”

Pearl did as she asked, putting her head against the mirror as Violet’s hands returned to her face, her gentle touches carefully removing the traces of alcohol and mascara.

“What were you even thinking?”

The blame was heavy in Violet’s voice, and Pearl felt her stomach clench. She wasn’t normally one to feel bad, wasn’t normally one to give two shits what other people thought, but she liked Violet, really liked her.

“This isn’t some rundown barnyard rave where you can dance around naked.”

“Is that-” Pearl snorted. “That's what you think raves are?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I-” Pearl could hear the blush in Violet’s voice, and she was reminded how much she loved flustering the other woman.

“This is an industry event Pearl.” Violet pulled back. “You’re here as Galactica’s Head of PR and Social Media.”

“You sound like Fame.” Pearl opened her eyes just to roll them. “All behave and no fun, but who’d you feel if you got your heart broken.”

Pearl froze, not even realising what she had actually said until the words left her mouth.

“Whatever-” Violet sounded annoyed, a sigh coming from her. “Whatever you say Pearl, though I hardly think she warrants a broken heart.”

“She?” Pearl couldn’t understand, nothing in Violet’s attitude or how she behaved made any sort of sense.

“The not stranger stranger-”

Pearl wanted to say something, anything, to make Violet understand that she was the one she was talking about, not the girl that didn't even matter.

“-I doubt she’s the only one for you.”

“I love you, Violet.” Pearl sat up straight, desperate for her words to be heard.

“I love you too,” Violet smiled, “and we’ll always be friends.”

***

Bianca sighed, sipping her drink, already bored with this party. And especially with the way Raja and Raven were all over each other; Raven was practically in Raja’s lap, head tilted to the side as Raja layered wet kisses along her neck.

She caught Fame’s eye, gesturing to the overly affectionate couple and making a disgusted grimace. Fame laughed, leaning forward and saying, “I think they’re cute.”

“They’re gross,” Bianca countered, rolling her neck.

“Jealous?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Bianca asked her.

“Well, you did just break up with that Devon girl. Maybe you’re feeling a little lonely.” Fame poked one of her dimples, lashes fluttering.

“Derrick. And no, I’m definitely not feeling lonely. I am, however, feeling tired as fuck and a strong desire to leave this club. Where the hell is Adore?”

As if summoned by magic, that was the moment Adore’s voice sounded from behind her.

“Hey…” she said, sitting down forlornly on the sofa.

“Where have you been?” Bianca asked, as her sister slumped against her shoulder.

“Nowhere,” Adore sighed.

“How to you feel about getting the fuck out of here and heading back to the hotel?” Bianca kissed the top of Adore’s head.

“Can we get room service?”

“Sure.”

“Then yes.”

***

Katya was lying awake, the sun slowly creeping up over the Parisians rooftops. For the first time since in weeks, she wasn’t feeling the pull of the bottle, the minibar in the corner of the room not tempting her at all, but she wasn’t anxiety free, unease humming underneath her skin.

Trixie was asleep next to her, his face buried in her hair, his arm over her. She had no idea how she should think of him, fiance, bethronted, husband to be.

They all sounded right, sounded true, a lifetime with Trixie an absolute dream come true, but the more she said them to herself, the worse she felt.

What if he hadn’t meant the engagement, what if he had only said it because she had accidentally forced him to.

“Morning wifey.”

Katya turned her head, Trixie’s voice surprising her. “Wha-”

“I said-” Trixie grinned, the corners of his blue eyes wrinkled with his smile, “morning wifey.”

“So you meant it?” Katya twisted her body, turning until she was lying face to face with Trixie, their noses almost touching.

“Meant what?” Trixie raised a brow.

“The engagement.” Katya bit her lip. “I didn’t know if-”

“If I was sure?”

“Maybe…” As Katya said the words, she realised how stupid they sounded, but she had to say them, had to know. “Is it too soon? Have we thought it through-”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” Trixie reached out, putting a hand on her hip and pulling her even closer. “I’ve never meant anything more than when I asked if you wanted to be my wife, and I swear to you-” Trixie smiled. “I’ll never regret it.”

***

“Violet?”

“Just five more minutes, please.” Violet was yanked out of her slumber when a warm, deep laugh filled the room. She was lying on Sutan’s chest, and she tried to hide a yawn as she looked up at him. “What’s-”  

“Mornin’, lovely eyes.” Sutan chuckled, and Violet could feel one of his hands gently run through her hair. “Glad to see you joining the land of the living.”

“Don’t tease me-” Violet yawned again, Sutan’s hand feeling so very very good. “Wait… How did I get home last night?”

“How much do you remember?”

“We got in the cab, and-”

“You fell asleep before we had even pulled out from the curb.”

“What?!” Violet was suddenly wide awake. “I- That’s-” She knew she had been exhausted after the flight, and helping Pearl hadn’t exactly made her more alert, but to imaging that she had fallen asleep like that. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“I thought it was cute.”

Violet didn’t even have to look at Sutan’s face to know he had a huge, shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Especially when I had to carry you inside.”

“Oh my god.” Violet groaned, pulling the duvet over her head. She wanted to scream into a pillow, but since she was lying on top of Sutan, the other man essentially acting like one, it would only make things so much worse.

“Come on-” Sutan laughed, “don’t hide under there.”

“I’m not hiding, I’m making a tactical retreat.”

Sutan lifted the duvet, and Violet smiled, crawling up his body until she could dump down in his arms and hide her face in his neck, inhaling deeply as she enjoyed his scent.

“Wait. Why am I naked?”

Sutan laughed again, grabbing Violet’s arm and turning them around so he was lying on top of her. “It didn’t feel right to go through your suitcase”

“Oh.” Violet blushed, her legs falling open so Sutan could slide between them.  Of course he had undressed her last night, the memory vaguely resurfacing if she concentrated. “Right.”

“You didn’t even wake up when I took off your makeup.” Sutan smiled, kissing his way down Violet’s neck, and Violet vaguely remembered the sensation of a wipe on her face. “But I’m glad I at least got to undress you after you tortured me all night.”

“You noticed?” Violet smiled, a moan leaving her as Sutan kissed the sensitive skin of her throat.

“Did I notice?” Sutan huffed. “You come into the club after I haven’t seen you in two weeks, looking like sex on legs? Of course I fucking noticed,” Sutan bit down on her neck, making Violet gasp.

“Don’t leave a mark!” Violet knew his friend knews, knew Fame had caught on, but she wouldn’t be able to live with it if she had to carry the proof front and center, the idea beyond embarrassing.

“I won’t, I won’t.” Sutan hummed as he kissed his way down her chest. “You drive me insane in the best possible way, Violet. I finally had you and then you ran away.”

“I didn’t-”

“I wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but my name.”

Violet moaned and arched up against Sutan, desperately trying to get some friction in between her legs, but the weight of his body was holding her down as he was pinching, sucking and teasing her nipples, making tears gather in her eyes out of frustration and need.

“Please tell me you have a condom…” Violet’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but Sutan heard her and nodded.

“They’re in the drawer.”

“Please…” Violet looked up at him, her cheeks completely red as their eyes locked together. “I want… I want to…”

“Ssh, ssh.” Sutan smiled, their lips locking in a kiss, neither of them caring about the other’s morning breath. Violet was clinging to Sutan, small desperate moans leaving her lips as Sutan reached into the drawer on the side of the bed, holding his weight with one hand, only breaking their kiss to rip the packet open with his teeth.

Violet silently praised God that the man she was fucking was, well, just that, a man and not a fumbling boy who didn’t know what he was doing.

Violet reached between them, not even caring about Sutan’s surprised moan as she grabbed his cock and guided it inside her, the feeling of finally, finally being filled blissful and Violet couldn’t help but whimper as Sutan bottomed out inside of her, all tension leaving her body, her lips parted as she gasped for air.

The rhythm was slow and gentle, the two of them just enjoying each other’s bodies.

“You…” Violet moaned, looking into Sutan’s eyes.

“You feel…” Violet whispered; she could feel her cheeks heat up. “ This, this is really good.”

She had never been one to be vocal in bed, but with Sutan it was different.

Violet knew her embarrassment was worth it though, when Sutan flashed her a smile that was practically blinding.

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

Sutan grabbed her legs and guided them from his hips and over his shoulder, the angle he could thrust at now so much deeper. Violet’s fingers were gripping his biceps, his hair, the sheets, moaning out her pleas as Sutan fucked her good and deep.

Violet didn’t tip over, couldn’t let go, but she whimpered as Sutan came deep inside of her, everything warm and safe and perfect.

***

“Everyone-” Fame groaned, minutes away from stomping her foot in frustration. The lobby was an absolute madhouse, even though Fame did her best to gather the troops before they all went off to various shows.

“Where’s Pearl?”

It was Fashion Week in a nutshell, and while she loved it, she was also beyond grateful to have Violet at her side, the knowledge that she had at least one person there who knew how to listen and execute orders comforting. Sutan was hovering at her side, and if Fame had more time, she would have grilled him for it, but her mind was beyond preoccupied.

“Here- Shit. ‘M here!”

“Pearl!” Fame exclaimed, letting out an exasperated sigh as the blonde wandered up to the group, wrapped in a fur coat, giant sunglasses obscuring her face, clutching a cup of coffee like it was a life preserver. “What in god’s name happened to you? You look like death.”

“Sorry,” was all Pearl managed, and Fame shook her head.

“Pearl Liaison, you get your act together and you better do it quickly. I will not have you wandering around Paris looking like a walking hangover.”

“Okay, okay…” Pearl groaned, pushing her sunglasses into her hair. “I promise, I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.”

Fame paused, knowing that she absolutely wouldn’t tolerate this kind of behavior from anyone else, but of course, it was Pearl.

“One minute.” Fame turned away, attempting to exchange a put-upon look with Raja, but her business partner’s attention was elsewhere, listening intently to Raven yammer away--probably about all the pastries she was planning to binge on after the shows were over. Fame was almost ready to spew her bad mood over them, when she noticed something.

“Wait a minute...where’s Trixie?”

Usually one of her most reliable employees, it was unlike Trixie to be late.

“Do you think he left already?” Fame looked around, scouting for him. She wasn’t asking anyone in particular, but she saw Violet step up, her assistant already on her phone, probably texting Trixie. “I distinctly told everyone to meet here.” Fame crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on her bicep. She was growing more and more annoyed, anger curling in her stomach.

This was unacceptable. Beyond unacceptable.

“Fame,” Bianca said, reaching out and touching her arm. She could feel that Bianca was annoyed, which only made her own mood worse. “We’re late,”

“I know we’re late!” Fame snapped. No one had forced Bianca to wait, her friend staying behind because she had asked, which now that Fame thought about it, actually made this her fault. “Sorry.”

Fame knew it was bad when she was being mean to Bianca.

“Damn, Blondie.”

Nearby, Adore was covering her mouth to muffle her laughter.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to tell Trixie to-”

Fame finally spotted the familiar bald head.

“Trixie!” She waved to him across the lobby, where he was striding from the elevator, Katya’s hand clasped in his. As they approached, her relief melted into confusion, brow creasing. “Are you taking Katya along for the shows? She’s not on the guest lists-”

“No no, that’s alright. She’s got plans. We just had news we wanted to share with you,” Trixie explained, grinning

“Oh?”

Katya looked so excited, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet, clutching Trixie’s hand in one of hers, the other wrapped around his arm. She exchanged a look with him, then they both burst out with their news in unison.

“We’re getting married!”

Fame’s mouth dropped open, eyes widening with delight, squealing happily, her voice echoing through the lobby as she cried, “Oh darlings, that’s wonderful!”

“Isn’t it?” Katya beamed.

By now, the rest of the group was also reacting to the news. Raja and Sutan hugging Trixie and slapping him on the back, Fame squeezing Katya’s shoulders, Violet exclaiming her congratulations, Pearl lowering her shades to blink, dumbfounded, before offering her own hugs, Raven demanding to see Katya’s ring.

Even Bianca and Adore got in on the love fest, Adore throwing her arms around Katya and crying, “Congratulations!”

Katya accepted the hug, slightly confused as to who this strange young woman might be.

“Thank you!...Who are you again?”

“Who cares, you’re getting married!” Adore exclaimed, and Katya laughed.

“Yeah, congrats, love conquers all, wonderful,” Bianca added, before tugging on Fame’s sleeve and informing her for the third time, “Blondie, we’re late!”

“Alright, Bianca, alright,” Fame said, rolling her eyes. “Are the cars ready?”

“Yes, miss!” Violet answered immediately.

“Trixie, my love, let's have a little something tonight to toast you both. Violet will set it up. And then of course a proper engagement party back in New York. Tell Violet what you’d like and she can plan the whole thing as my gift to you.”

Adore stifled another laugh, seemingly the only one who realized how incredibly funny that sentiment was. How generous Fame was with other people’s time and energy. Though most of her thoughts were still fixated on Pearl, getting the distracted blonde’s attention and striking out, it was nice that she could at least be somewhat entertained by the others.

“Thank you so much, miss!”

“Blondie!”

“I’m coming, Bianca, for god’s sake.”

“No, there’s no ring yet. It was a bit of a spur of the moment kind of proposal,” Trixie was explaining to Raven.

“I’ll send you the info for my jewelry designer,” she replied.

“Rave! Come on!” Raja said, giving Trixie one last pat on the shoulder. “Sorry to run off, Trix, this is great! We’ll see you later!”

Everyone began heading out the lobby doors, Trixie giving Katya a gentle kiss goodbye. When they separated, he realized that Pearl, looking hungover as shit and a bit shell-shocked, was still lagging behind the group.

“Hey Pearlie Girl! Can you believe we’re getting married?!” He pulled her into a group hug with Katya.

“I cannot. It’s literally the most grownup thing you’ve ever done.”

“I also run a whole department of a fashion house,” Trixie reminded her.

“So? So do I.”

“Fair,” Trixie laughed, pressing one last kiss to Katya’s cheek. “Bye baby! I love you.”

“Bye sugarbutt!” she called, waving as he and Pearl headed out towards the waiting towncars.

[grandtheftstarship]

Not Yet (Leonard McCoy x Fem!Reader) [Request!]

Prompt 21 with Leonard McCoy! 🖖🏻💙 -Anon

Thank you for your request anon :) Sorry for making you wait! I’ve been really uninspired lately and when I write and I’m uninspired then my work doesn’t have my heart in it. I really want the stories you request to be the best they can be, so I tried to write when my writer’s block was absent there for a minute! I really hope you understand and enjoy! 

also heartbreak but that doesn't matter

IMPORTANT!!!! I am going to be going on a quick hiatus to work on a larger fic on my AO3! It isn’t Star Trek, but let me know if you want to read it anyways. I will be finishing all current requests that I have. You can send in a request but just know that I won’t get to it very quickly!! Thank you!!

The next requests are: 1. Kirk 2.Spock

Prompts Chosen: 21. Just hold on… please

Word Count: 1645 Warnings: graphic descriptions of injury, swearing, A.N.G.S.T, sciencey stuff I made up, ending is a little rushed Posted: Tumblr, Wattpad

Leonard had warned you. He told you he had a bad feeling about the away mission. He told you it was a bad idea, but you went anyway and now you were paying the price. 

You were the only one to survive the malfunction. You were the engineer, designated to keep the shuttle up and running while the science officers recorded their data, but an Ensign you didn’t know the name of had screwed with some wiring and everything was fried. Everything, including the Ensign, and every other officer aboard the vessel. The only reason you survived was because you were conveniently working in the back rubber-sealed room of the shuttle. 

“[y/l/n] to Enterprise!” you shouted into the receiver, frantically trying to steer the shuttle as it plummeted through the atmosphere of Mantilles. “Goddamnit, pick up.”

“[y/n]? What’s wrong?” Jim’s voice came in static and you nearly collapsed in relief. 

“Jim, something fried and killed the whole crew. Engines are gone. I’m going down- ugh!”

The shuttle lurched violently as you re-entered the atmosphere, feeling your ears pop and the cabin’s temperature start to rise. You waited until the hot brightness of the flames and the rushing in your ears died away before opening your eyes again. 

The comm reconnected to the Enterprise and you could hear Leonard trying to reach you from the other side.

“[y/n]! [y/n], can you hear me?” 

“Yes!” you called back, hands flying over the control panel as alarms started blaring. “Shit!”

“[y/n]-”

“Beam me out!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest. “Beam me out! 1,000 meters from the surface!”

Your breathing got faster as you tried in vain to do something, anything to stop the shuttle from falling so quickly. 

“Jim, please!” you heard Leonard begging on the line. “Somebody, please do something!”

“500 meters!”

“I’m trying but there’s something wrong with the shuttle’s hull, I can’t get a lock on her!” you heard someone yell. 

“200 meters,” adrenaline mixed with fear shook your hands violently as the control panel flashed red in warning, the trees getting closer and closer. Your movement stopped slowly as defeat settled into your bones. “Leonard-”

“Don’t you start,” Leonard choked and you could tell he was trying not to cry. 

“100 meters,” you tried not to cry either, knowing all of the crew on the other end about to watch you die. You decided to go down honorably. “50 meters.”

“35. 20. 15.”

You could hear frantic yelling on the other end as the count dipped under 10 and the shuttle started hitting the trees. You quickly activated the safety belt, even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Leonard-!” 

Your line went dead.

Leonard was frozen. He didn’t particularly know what he was supposed to do in this instance. He felt numb as he heard the static coming from your comm and the word TERMINATED taunting him from the screen displaying your zeroed-out vitals. A small part of him pointed out that the tech could be wrong and you weren’t dead but he pushed it away. He knew that it was over. 

When he finally noticed how the bridge had fallen silent besides the klaxon sounding quietly in the background and the computer repeating ‘warning’ in a steady rhythm from his medical station, he tore his eyes from the screen and looked around. Uhura was crying, Jim looked like Captain Pike had died in front of him all over again, Spock was holding Uhura, turned away from the rest of the crew, Sulu’s face was paused in an expression of horror, Chekov’s head was in his hands, and everyone else didn’t seem to understand what had just happened. 

Even though he was already standing, he made a show of pushing his chair away from behind him, the clash of metal on metal as the chair hit the floor slicing through the silence. Leonard’s sad eyes met Jim’s and suddenly he wasn’t sad anymore. Anger welled up inside him and he rushed off the bridge. He could’ve stopped this. Someone could’ve done something. His feet took him to his office and he stopped when he stood in his doorway. Both his eyes and his hands twitched with rage. The door shut behind him and Leonard snapped. He slammed his hands on his desk before moving his arm in one fluid motion and sent everything resting on it tumbling to the floor with a crash. He stared at the papers, padds, pens, pencils, and various other things littered all over the floor before the tears started welling in his eyes. He never thought he would be an angry cryer, but here he was. He collapsed into his desk chair, head down on the desk, and let it out.

You don’t know what woke you. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe the pain, but whatever it was it sent your eyes flying open. You gasped in agony, feeling the weight of whatever piece of the shuttle was crushing your right arm and legs. It was almost too much and you felt the darkness start rushing back into your vision but you blinked rapidly, pushing it away. You were smart enough to know that if you went under again, there was a good chance you would never come back up. 

You tried to survey your surroundings though the pain you were feeling in a multitude of places made it a bit hard. It seemed to be late morning on the planet judging by the way the sun filtered low in the trees, making it a bit easier to see the wreckage of the shuttle around you. From what you could tell, you were under the main control panel and part of your seat. You could feel the belt ripping the skin around your abdomen, and the upper strap had definitely broken your collar bone. You looked around again, eyes settling on a communicator, unharmed and just below where you were stuck. Hope soared through your chest, but only until it suddenly dawned on you that with the destruction of the shuttle, everyone most-likely thought you were dead. 

You decided to focus on trying to get yourself out from underneath the piece of shuttle without permanently losing your legs instead of dwelling on the fact that the people you cared about most had already left you behind. 

You felt around with your free hand, not feeling any blood, so you figured it was internal bleeding. You were somewhat right.

You groaned as you started to lift the piece of metal off of your body, feeling the blood start to pool under your legs.

Shit.

You were able to heave the heavy steel up and off of you, wincing at the loud crash following as it made contact with the ground. You stayed in your position for a minute longer, allowing yourself to breathe before propping yourself up on your good elbow and nearly passed back out. 

Your body was covered in your own blood, left leg bent painfully in an odd direction. When you sucked in a breath, pain seared through your shoulder and you looked down sharply. Yeah, your collar bone was definitely broken. 

You refocused on the communicator. You had been wedged between two shuttle parts until you had freed yourself and now you were elevated several feet off the ground. You tried your best to keep yourself braced as you attempted to slide down the bent piece of metal, crying out in agony as your broken leg hit the reddish dirt. You clutched your knee, letting a few tears slip out from your puffy eyes. Something warm and wet started seeping through your ripped dress again, and you noticed that with the impact you had started bleeding from everywhere again. You glanced back up at the rusty-looking spot you were just laying in, cringing at the fresh red streaking through the white hull. 

You limped for the communicator, ending up in a crawl, and hastily flipped it open. 

“[y/l/n] to Enterprise,” your croaked out, clutching the communicator for dear life. “Please, please...Anyone..?”

                                           __________________

You don’t know how long you lied there, waiting for someone to pick up. Your eyes were bloodshot, cheeks tear-stained, hope slowly dissolving; until your communicator picked up something. 

“[y/n]?” came your static reply. You wanted to cry again you were so happy.

“Yes, yes it’s me!” you cried back, gasping in relief. “Leonard... is that you?”

“We’re coming to get you darlin’,” he said back. Your excitement started to wear off as you noticed the blood pooling around you. 

“Uh, Leonard?” your heart started to race. You couldn’t die now, not when you had just found your family again. 

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’m losing lots of blood...” you trailed off as your eyes started to droop, fatigue settling in your bones. 

“[y/n]! Listen to me, you have to stay awake okay?” Leonard spoke worriedly. 

You fought it, you really did, but the darkness was just enough to force you to succumb. You lazily managed to press the tracking beacon on the communicator before going under, hearing Leonard pleading on the line.

“Just hold on...please.”

                                            __________________

You were hazily pulled out of the empty sleep you were in, cracking your eyes against the harsh lights of what you assumed was the medbay. You stirred, hissing in pain when you moved. 

“[y/n]!” Leonard said in surprise, dropping what he was doing and rushing to your side. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you smiled up at him, never happier to see his smiling face. “Still hurting a little.”

Leonard leaned in for a quick kiss, trying not to hurt you. “I’ll come to check on you in a bit, okay?”

You nodded, sending him a small smile. 

“Also, never do that to me ever again.”

You nodded, smiling wider. “Don’t worry, I don’t particularly like being in shuttle crashes.”

He beamed. “Get some rest. I love you.”

“I will. Love you too.”

[thatscarletflycatcher]

When my darkest hours are faded / and the light is coming through / that's when I rise up / 'Cause between us / I find myself when I open up to you / That's when I rise up / and open my eyes up / 'cause between us

That's when I rise up / When I open my eyes up to you / When there's no lies left between us / And all that's left is truth / When the heavy words have fallen / and I reconnected to you / That's when I rise up

[qwertythepopstarian08]

JSAB Reverse Superhero AU Fanfic: Hero in Training

A gift for @rhyth5 and @aquatic-turquoise!

It’s been a while since I’ve done any Reverse Superhero stuff, and I was in the mood for writing an action scene! 

Description: Squog is excited to finally join the Pink Menace in his superhero work. There’s just one problem... he doesn’t know what his powers will be...

Warning for slight violence.

As always, the period after the battle was silent, full of mourning for those lose and heavy with fear for what was to come. Even the normally bustling streets of Paradise City were dark and dreary, the lights all busted or otherwise lacking power. All was still and solemn as the city’s hero traveled, making his long trek back home to face another day and prepare for his next night of fighting.

All was quiet, save for the tinny, echoing voice of a certain newcomer hero...

“Menace… when can I learn how to shoot lasers from my eye?” Squog’s eager voice echoed through the night, his very presence seeming to brighten the otherwise dull area. Quite literally, given that his body gave off a faint pink glow, his fur shiny and reflective and filled with magic.

The Pink Menace paused, turning to face his energetic companion. His eyes slid partially shut with exhaustion, and he gave a small chuckle, reaching to pat the shape dog on the head. “I’m not sure about that, kiddo.” He internally cringed; he was hardly fourteen and already referring to his sidekick as a kid. “But I think I’ve got an idea of one of your powers.”

Squog lit up like a neon sign, buzzing with excitement. “What is it?” His tail wagged madly, its movements a blur from the speed and light that it gave off. “Flight? Telekinesis? The power to bend magnetic fields with my mind?!”

No response came from his partner in crime-fighting. Squog lowered his head, his glow dimming a bit as he fell back into step with the Menace’s lazy gait.

The very aura seemed to change as they set foot in the more damaged end of town, the area closest to the Treeangle and thus the area home to most of the most brutal battles. The carnage was obvious in the infrastructure, the roads peppered with indentations from misfired cannons, stomping beasts, and crushing impacts.

The pair of heroes slid down the sudden incline that marked the edge of a particularly large, unavoidable crater in the street, kicking up ash and faint cyan dust with the movement. They began to trek across the gap, Squog’s paws hovering just inches off the charred, flattened ground. The two fell into an eerie, placid silence, no words needed to be exchanged as the equal feeling of loss settled in their souls. It sent shivers through Squog, and he found himself freezing up, the cold settling in his bones and making him pause with worry as the other hero slowly came to a stop, right in the center of the crater.

Menace chuckled, stretching until the bones in his arms popped softly. He felt his joints disconnect, loosen, a brief burst of energy rushing through his limbs, before he suddenly pulled his arms back, an orb of volatile energy forming in his claws. His sleeves melted away to reveal the segmented, simplistic nature of his arms in their combat form, and a crooked grin stretched across his face as he brought his cannon to eye level with Squog. 

The canine hero yelped, jumping back just as the Pink Menace fired, further charring the ground where he’d been standing once before. His ears folded down, and he let out a whimper, his core humming with nervousness.

“Menace?” Squog called. He lowered himself a bit, his limbs shaking. “What are you doing? You could’ve fried me!”

The other hero said nothing, firing another round of blasts in a straight line, the lasers chasing after Squog. The dog could do little to escape as the double blasts closed in, cornering him and forcing him to leap. His fur shimmered in the moonlight, and he felt something snap within him, his body shuddering all at once as he screamed, rolling in the air.

A shadow of emotionlessness fell over his mentor’s face, and Squog’s ears twitched, picking up on the unique, lilting melody of beat magic. In time with the Menace’s heart rate eye, the electric beat slammed with heavy bass, menacing undertones ringing through the air as the unfamiliar, boss-worthy music roared.

Squog landed behind the Menace, yelling again, “Snap out of it, buddy!” He slammed his paws against the ground for traction, rearing up and landing a not-so-harsh kick in his partner in crime-fighting’s side. “This isn’t you!”

The Menace was sent flying, through he soon recovered, his claws shooting forth to dig into the ground. He showed no outward signs of infection from the Cursed Tree, though he lacked emotion as well, his movements cold and calculated…

Squog’s heart sank in terror; this wasn’t how his friend normally fought, not in the slightest.

Before he could continue his panicked musings, something burning and sharp connected with his side. He twisted to avoid it, scraping his stomach against the disconnected arm that whizzed by him. His eyes widened, and he hissed in pain, bristling and stumbling back.

The battle was beginning to wear on him, and he could feel the music growing louder, its presence a tickling, nerve wracking sensation at the back of his mind.

The Pink Menace sauntered over to his dislodged arm, picking it up and reconnecting it to his body with a snap. He slowly turned to face Squog… before his body flickered, glitching out of view.

The heroic dog’s pale eyes went wide, and he darted to the center of the “arena”, tense. He cowered, looking around frantically for any sign of the attacking shape’s reappearance. Hackles rising, the canine pulled his magenta cape tighter against his body, halting his shivering in hopes of listening for the Menace’s song. Paranoia crept through his soul, gripping at his mind; the Menace could teleport anywhere around him, could flicker through him and send him flying at a whim. Squog went pallid, glad that he’d been on the antihero’s side for at least this long…

His ears twitched, and his heart clenched, a sudden terror filling him. Something instinctive screamed within him to move, to run from the spot directly in front of him. He leapt backwards, soaring through the air, away from his would-be attacker. The Pink Menace glitched back into existence mere feet away, swiping through the air with wicked claws.

Squog landed directly on his left foreleg, and a pained howl ripped from his throat. He crumpled to the ground, a loud snap ringing out as he felt his ankle snap. Sensing his weakness, the Menace was upon him in an instant, wasting no time picking him up and tossing him in the air, where he’d be vulnerable to attack… Squog’s eyes snapped open fully, glowing harshly. A feral snarl left him, and he sunk his teeth into the Menace’s shoulder just as he was lifted. The inertia sent the Menace flying over Squog’s shoulder, gravity seeming to warp somehow, just enough so that the antihero was sent careening wherever Squog willed him to be.

That seemed to do some damage, and the traitorous hero stayed where he’d fallen. Squog’s sharp gaze caught the smallest twitch of a finger. His eyes narrowed, pupils pulling into slits, and with a mere thought, the glow around his body hardened into powerful, shocking energy, electrocuting and thoroughly stunning the Pink Menace.

The battle was over.

A minute passed with the fallen Menace making no further attempts to move. Squog’s tense posture relaxed, and his eyes filled with fear. He rushed over to his friend’s side, whimpering.

“Menace?” When no response came, he whimpered, pawing at the other hero’s face. “Menace..?”

Slowly, the young shape’s good eye opened, the heart rate monitor in the place of his other eye returning to a steady pulse. He quirked a small grin and hummed, “Gravity, clairvoyance, and electricity.”

Squog stared at him, his eyes full of tears, which glinted in the low light. It took him a moment to fully process what had been said, before his eyes flickered with insight.

A jolt of that fervent energy rushed across his body, from the tip of his tail to his ears, and a tiny, elated grin pulled at his features.

“It was all a test…those are my powers...” he realized, awestruck. Joy bubbled from within him, replacing the previous anxiety, and he let out a gleeful whoop. “I have powers!”

He was so overcome with joy that he failed to notice, even with his limited clairvoyance, the flickering of spatial energy just in his peripheral vision. He glanced back at the Pink Menace to share the joy, but he squeaked upon seeing that the once exhausted shape had vanished.

Squog’s ears folded down, before a chill raced down his spine. The dark pink tones drained from his body as the sun began to rise, depriving him of his otherworldly form and the excess energy that came with it. Just as he began to relax, however, a new terror filled him, a frown twisting his expression as his eyes went wide.

“I MISSED MY DATE WITH STRAWBERRY!”

With that, the shape dog zoomed through the city, mind swimming with apologies and excuses already. In his rush, he didn’t even notice the sharp pink gaze watching him from the shadows…

Deep within the darkness of the city, something very wrong, ancient and twisted grinned; a new hero was in town, and he’d soon be crushed...

[insfirebunny]

When my darkest aisles are fading, and the light is coming through. That's when I rise up, cause between us, I found myself when I open up to you. That's when I rise up, open my eyes up, To you. When there's no lies left between us, And all its left is truth. When the heavy words have fallen, And I reconnect to you. That's when I rise up, cause between us. I found myself when I open up to you. That's when I rise up, when I open my eyes up, To you 💛

[necroarchy]

Father’s Day

   SUMMARY: In the wake of the Second Battle of Light’s Hope, the Lich King contemplates his Deathlord in a strange, rare moment of camaraderie. Except not really.

   OR a conversation that doesn’t end with anyone dead for once, but just barely.

    NOTE: Reposting 'cause we live that life around here and also it’s got lines I needed to find.

   WARNING: This is from Arthas’ perspective, so it’s just all kinds of awful. Mental and emotional abuse, as well as references to past physical abuse. Manipulation, intimidation, victim-blaming, etc. etc.

     “ What’re you doing, Lich King? ”

     The unsettlement of air announced his Wraith just before her voice, the syllables carrying with them the distinctive sensations that made up the patchwork of her presence - the whisper of ice, of shadow, of wolf’s teeth and bottomless hunger. He did not turn to the child as she leaned irreverently against the balustrade that wrapped around the overlook they stood upon, the hollow thunk of saronite striking saronite muffled by the material of her coat. He had forgone his helm for a short while today, and she stood just at the edge of his peripheral vision if he focused on her. ( He didn’t. ) The wolf, cleverly, settled between Lord and King. While the barrier of fur and bone and blood would not be enough to make Arthas so much as hesitate should things edge towards violence, it would stop Zoen in her tracks.

     Idly, he wondered why she was here.

     “ Observing. ” Beneath them, knights-in-training battled furiously against one another while instructors waded fearlessly amidst the fray, shouting threats and criticisms. The din was almost pleasant, yet another form of background noise to join that of the endless clamor of murmuring souls that echoed through Arthas’ skull. “ You could benefit from doing the same. ��

     He heard the shift of metal and leather as she turned to split her attention between him and the knights. “ They’re awful. ”

     “ You were worse. ”

     She scoffed in disdain, and he glanced at her just in time to catch her unconsciously raising a hand to rub at where her throat had been sawed open barely a week following her rebirth. He did not try to suppress his smirk. “ Inaccurate, and not the point. ”

     “ Isn’t it? ” He tilted his attention further to her, both approving and condemning how she rocked back on her heels away from him.

     Wariness of him was smart, was right in a knight of his, no matter their errancy - especially due to their errancy. The Ebon Blade yet had treasons to atone for, sins whose punishments he’d flay from their souls as soon as they had returned, properly, to the heavy fold of his sovereignty. Amusing though it was to watch Acherus’ children scurry around doing his bidding while stubbornly clinging to their delusion of independence, he ached for when they’d kneel in reverent, dutiful loyalty at the foot of his throne, minds reconnected to the grand nexus of the Scourge and the chains of their wills wound firmly around his wrist.

     From beneath came an especially loud shout, followed by a gradual decrease of noise. Arthas looked down and saw a rough circle of acolytes forming around what appeared to be a newly-disarmed initiate who stood clenching his lone fist whilst an instructor shouted at him. At their feet lay a severed, leaking limb. The instructor roared for a few more moments before apparently dismissing the acolyte, who took the chance to snag his arm off the ground before stiffly making his way towards the doors that would lead him to the nearest necromancers’ hall. The clamor from before rose back up, knights fighting knights with renewed vigor.

     “ See? ” Zoen murmured, tone edging irritatingly similar to smug. Was she closer than she’d been before? “ Awful. ”

     “ If any of them surpass you, Deathlord, I’ll replace you. ”

     “ If any of them surpass me, Lich King, I’ll deserve it. ” She twisted around to rest her back fully on the railing, dismissing the knights below with silent contempt. The consequence was that she now no longer had anything to really focus on save Arthas himself, which she seemed to only truly understand at the end of her little rotation. To his entertainment, she seemed incapable of regarding him for any protracted length of time, as though he were the sun and to look directly at him would burn her eyes. No, not the sun, he thought. A god, his divinity too darkly radiant for a creature of such profound imperfection as Zoen Mith to gaze upon without suffering vastly for it. The idea pleased him enough that he magnanimously declined to call out the weakness for what it was.

     The moment extended awkwardly --- for the girl, of course, not Arthas, who really couldn’t care less about her dilemma except the ways it may compliment him --- wherein Zoen shuffled between gazing down at her dozing wolf and sending furtive, disturbed glances at the sculpted skull of his right pauldron. Her eyes dropped to her feet and her hands fell from the railing to inside her coat’s pockets. She pulled out what looked to be an old, brass pocket watch and frowned briefly at it before curling her fist tighter around it and jamming them both back into her coat.

     They fell into silence, leaving one another to their distractions: Zoen her growing unease, Arthas his supervision of his knights’ training. Nothing so gruesomely inconvenient as dismemberment plagued any of the remaining acolytes, though such mercy could not be attributed to hesitancy or consideration on behalf of their brethren; indeed the tide of their ferocity and bloodlust seemed to rise higher in concurrence with the growing length of time that their mock battles stretched on. Except mock began to seem too trite a word, now that he thought about it, its connotations almost too passive for the crashing violence that swept across the floor below - as though it was not a legion of fallen, desecrated heroes pitted in a dozen vicious wars but a pack of squealing children artlessly swinging sticks at one another. Puerile, even - and of course thoughts of puerility inevitably drew his attention (and eyes) toward the child leaning artlessly against the balustrade at his side, one of her hands curling loosely around the hilt of her overhyped stick.

     It dawned, suddenly, that he had never before shared any moment of remarkable length with this child of his that did not involve violence of either a physical or mental capacity. He would not call what they dwelled in currently peace, aware as he was of the literal and proverbial wolf slumbering between them, and the blades they both carried at their sides should the metaphorical beast awaken. But it was not violence, nor teeth-clenched toleration that would only last the very bare minimum of time until they could hastily part ways. It was, temporarily, a state of coexistence.

     Arthas seized the opportunity to really, truly look at Zoen. His child was a mess of poor construction, avian bones wrapped up in lambskin with shark’s teeth jammed into a too-small mouth, her own weak jaw muzzling her better than any man-made contraption. Lordship had settled heavily on her shoulders, rounding them until he wondered for a moment if they had been wrenched from the sockets. He could see the tension in her neck, how the tendons were taut as bowstrings beneath the skin. The dark shadows that clung to her eyes spoke of an exhaustion she could not even experience anymore. Her cheekbone was splattered with the telltale discolorations of a nearly-healed bruise, and below her jaw, just above the line of her coat’s collar, a sloppy row of stitches ran diagonally down her throat.

     “ You look atrocious. ”

     Candid, but he had never been the liar between them. She grinned sardonically, and at the corner of her mouth he could just make out the faint, silvery line of where a blade had broken through the skin long ago, trailing from the edge of her lips to the swell of her chin. The scar was unnotable enough on its own, but compounded with his intimate knowledge of the mutilation that destroyed the other side of her face, its inconsequence was practically insulting. Arthas entertained the thought of taking a blade and digging through that pathetic blemish, turning it into another emblem of ruination. Another lesson.

          Perhaps this time, she would learn it.

     “ Do I? What a shame. ” Her voice was a desert. “ Somewhere between slaughtering demons and leading armies I suppose I let my skincare regimen fall to the wayside. ”

     “ If you crumble, child --- ”

     “ Yes, you said, ” she snapped, and he so dearly desired to reach forward and pluck out those teeth she dared turn against him. Petulance could be amusing, and spite had its charm, but little mitigated such outright disrespect. “ You’ll replace me with one of your pets. I’m very sure they’ll have better luck attacking the paladins than I did. ”

     “ That would not be difficult. ” He rounded on her, paying no heed to the growl building up in the wolf’s chest as it scrabbled to its feet and backed up against his Wraith, its fangs bared uselessly at him. “ Your failure was a spectacular display of the incompetence characteristic of your Ebon Blade. ”

     Below them, the din of battle lessened as distracted knights turn from their combatants to the storm quietly brewing on the overlook. Arthas lashed out at their minds in painful chastisement, disgusted at such a large-scale lapse on their part. He would not allow his loyal servants to succumb to the same weaknesses that crippled his traitors - crippled his daughter, who for all her snarling, sputtering outrage could inspire only a swell of disgust in the Lich King.

     “ We aren’t --- ”

     “ Maxwell Tyrosus and Liadrin were at your mercy, ” he spat viciously, “ and rather than bring them into --- ” my “ --- your fold, you chose to leave them crumpled on the ground, battered but alive. Tirion Fordring rests peacefully in his grave still, because you were too weak to claim him. Time and again, you are given chances to prove yourself, and time and again, you fall short of expectations. You disappoint me. ”

     The effect was immediate; Zoen reeled back, face crumpling in a way that brought to mind Archimonde’s destruction of Dalaran; the experience of watching something vaunted be brought down by a power so totally beyond its scope that resistance was completely inconceivable. She built herself back up, brick by brick --- swept away her horror and dismay behind a curtain of rage and hatred, but he could still see it through the gossamer threads, he still knew how fragile the foundations of her construction were.

     “ I disappoint you, ” she sneered, shaking her head, as though that might bolster the illusion enough that he couldn’t see through it. “ I disappoint you how, Lich King? ‘Cause I didn’t slaughter my way through Light’s Hope? ” And he could kill her for the ghost of guilt he saw cross her face. “ It only took me four knights and a handful of ghouls to reach their Sanctum. You sent ten thousand soldiers and you didn’t even get through the door! ”

     “ Tread lightly, ” he warned softly, taking a step toward her. His Wraith almost tripped over herself in her attempt to not mirror him with a step back, and this was godhood, was sovereignty, was power, this ability to dominate with nothing more than a twitch and a breath. “ Mograine died for you, Deathlord. Don’t throw that sacrifice away out of petulance. ”

     But godhood, sovereignty, power --- none would be nearly so gratifying if the whole world simply rolled over, quavering in fearful submission, meekly accepting his dominion without giving rebellion a fleeting thought. Zoen tilted her chin up, the line of stitches across her throat stretching, and Arthas delighted in the defiance as much as he loathed it. There was incredible satisfaction in possessing something that had once fought tooth and nail against being owned.

     “ I’m right, though, ” she said coldly, hollowly. The lack of arrogance ensured that his loathing did not outweigh his delight for now. “ Other than bringing back Tirion, we’ve done everything right. Got the weapons, got the Horsemen, got a couple mountains’ worth of dead demons behind us, got a… glowy, floaty, singin’ thing hangin’ out in the corner of Acherus that I should probably throw back into the ocean or something ‘cause it’s giving everyone a headache and it clashes with everything and we’ve got a bloody aesthetic to maintain --- ”

     The wolf chuffed, breaking the flow of Zoen’s ramble. She spared it a blank, indecipherable look before returning her gaze to Arthas.

     “ So --- so you could kill me ‘cause I’m petulant, and replace me with one of those --- those unborn brats down there, and see how that goes. Or you could… not kill me, and not replace me, ‘cause so far that seems to be working out pretty well. ”

     “ Is this a plea for mercy, Deathlord? ”

     A laugh tore its way out of her throat. “ Mercy’s a sin. I’m asking you to be practical. ”

     It was not pride that unfurled, sleepy and disoriented, beneath his rib cage, but its precursor. The acknowledgement that pride could exist within him, that one day it might settle in his bones, that looking at his Wraith would not inspire frustration and betrayal and and a sinking, clawing feeling that he could not name. And if she could scrabble her way towards such glory as the Death God’s approval, imagine what the rest of her brethren could accomplish, those whose only disappointments had been betrayal.

     A crooked grin crossed the Lich King’s features, and that precursor must have bled through because Zoen lowered her chin, looking somewhat disturbed. “ Then consider yourself forgiven, Deathlord, ” he said with all proper magnanimity of a god. She wasn’t, really, wouldn’t be for a long while, but if she could offer candor, he could offer lies. “ I’d suggest returning to your knights before you need seek it again. ”

     His Wraith, for all her faults, was not quite foolish enough to dare stay when a clean exit was offered; and thus with a short whistle to her wolf, she lurched away from the balustrade, hands raised and wreathed in shadow as she wrenched open a death gate. The wolf padded obediently through the portal, and she had nearly taken her first step through when:

     “ Though I do wonder, Zoen, why you came here today at all. ”

     With her back to him as she stood before her gate, Arthas could not see what sort of emotion might have twisted her features, but he knew enough from the stiffening of her shoulders, the way her hands curled into fists before she shoved them into her pockets, that it would have been interesting. And as the silence grew between them, festering like an infected wound, he began to consider reaching forward, yanking her around that he might find out.

     “ It’s Father’s Day, ” she said at last, and that strange, sinking feeling clawed at his insides. “ Thought about just sending a card, but I’m pretty sure the postage would’ve bankrupted me. Suffer well, Arthas. ”

     And then she was gone, the gate sealing neatly behind her, nothing left behind to indicate she had ever been there at all. Arthas found himself staring at the space she’d occupied for a moment too long before finally returning his eyes to the knights training below, clashing in their mock battles like a pack of children.

    Father’s Day.

    The claws sunk deeper.

    He should have carved up her face again.

[cashtonhemford]

Truth or Dare

word count: 2.9k

warnings: swearing, and smutty smut

summary: you and the boys are playing truth or dare and Luke gets dared to play Too Hot with you and he gets a little too excited.

The frat house was filled with the slimy scent of cheap alcohol and sweat. Anybody who’d showed up for the actual party left about an hour ago and now it just left you, your best friend and the boys who occupied the house. 

You’d always gotten along with them, especially Calum who you’d known the longest by far but you’d never gotten along with Luke. Ever since you’d met him he’d been nothing but a complete dick to you for no real reason. 

The first day you met Luke he was normal, he didn’t really say anything and seemed shy but he didn’t say anything rude either. It wasn’t until Calum showed up that he had the cold attitude towards you that he still presented to you to this day. 

You and Calum were child hood friends and when you found out you were going to the same college, you met up. Ever since then you’d only grown closer but you both knew you were just friends and you both made that very clear with each other. 

“So Calum, Truth or Dare,” Michael smirked, clearly enjoying the nervousness that arose in Calum. 

“Truth,” he smiled, his confidence slowly rising. You could feel Luke tense next to you on the couch as you sat in the middle of him and your best friend, the rest of the boys lounging around on the floor. 

“Who do you have a crush on?” he smirked and you could feel your best friend, Lily,  fidgeting next to you. She’d had a crush on Calum ever since you’d introduced him to her but despite all of your attempts to set them up, Calum never took the hint. 

“Well, there’s this girl. I’ve known her for a while now,” he smirked and you could feel Luke tense and then move slightly closer to you but you didn’t really think anything of it at the time. “and her name starts with L.”

You glanced over at Lily who was blushing profusely, looking down at her hands. “So, I’m gonna say Lily,” he said finally with a smirk. 

Lily simply looked at him, the biggest grin on her face and it took a nudge from you for her to actually go and sit with him. 

“That was cheesy.” Luke groaned, making you let out a small chuckle. Calum simply rolled his eyes before smirking at Luke with a devilish look in his eyes. 

“Lucas,” he smirked as Luke groaned once again, “Truth or Dare.”

“Since I’m not a wimp like you, dare.” he grinned sarcastically before returning to his usual miserable look. 

“Well then, I dare you to play a game of Too Hot with Y/N.” he smirked, looking over at you with a small wink. 

Your breath was hitched in your throat and you could feel a deep red flood your cheeks. Luke tensed up momentarily but when you looked over at him all he had was a cocky smirk plastered across his face. 

You couldn’t deny how attractive Luke was, with his deep baby blue eyes, his perfectly curly hair and his lip ring just topped everything off. You’d always imagined what it would feel like pressed your lips but you’d never thought it would happen, at least until now. 

You quietly cleared your throat which caught the attention of Luke who until then was starting at Calum silently. His eyes slowly drifted towards you, his smirk turning into more of a grin. 

“Come on then, Princess.” he smiled, your heart skipping a beat at the pet name. It was until then that you’d forgotten about his reputation. 

He was known as the bad boy of the group, constantly sleeping around and despite constantly flunking classes he still had reasonably high grades. Almost every girl had fallen victim to him and as much as you didn’t want to fall for his tricks you were afraid you already had. 

You simply rolled your eyes and stood up in front of him, smiling down at him as the rest of the group squealed behind you. 

He slowly stood up, his lean figure towering over you and you couldn’t help but feel a little threatened. He brushed over his bottom lip with his teeth, slightly toying with his lip ring before giving you flirty wink. 

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” you groaned, clearly irritated with his flirtatious banter. 

Luke simply hummed in response and put his hands to his back before leaning into you. 

His lips pressed against yours and you instantly melted into him but your hands still clung to your sides. His cool lip ring added a pleasant sensation to the warm kiss that was already one of the best you’d ever had. 

His tongue swiped across your bottom lip but you denied him entry, deciding that he would have to try a little harder to gain any extra pleasure out of the kiss. 

“Don’t tease.” he snarled into the kiss making you smirk against his lips. But he took the smirk to his advantage and somehow snaked his tongue into your mouth. 

You groaned in annoyance but also slightly in pleasure and now it was Luke’s turn to smirk but as soon as he did you were quick to turn it back on him. 

You slowly pulled away and he whined at the loss of contact but before the boys behind you could call you out on pulling away, you swiped your tongue across his bottom lip. 

His whole body tensed as you toyed around with his lip ring, desperately trying to win the game but it seemed to him that it wasn’t a game anymore. He was practically writhing beneath you and you were enjoying every second of it. 

“Fuck this shit.” Luke breathed before cupping your face with his hands and smashing his lips into yours. You could’ve sworn that your heart missed a beat and in the moment you completely forgot that there was more than just you and him in the room. 

“Okay, okay. That’s enough.” you heard Michael complain behind you. Luke looked over your shoulder towards the blonde haired boy, letting out a small chuckle before looking back down at you. 

“Meet me in my bedroom in 10,” he whispered quietly as the others carried on their game behind you. You nodded slowly, trying not to look too eager but your rushing heart rate said otherwise. 

It only took a few minutes before Luke took off towards his room, clearly agitated and you couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased that you were the cause.

You spent the next few minutes on your phone before slipping away silently, hoping the others didn’t notice but they were so engrossed in their conversation they paid no attention.

As you slowly approached the hallway you realized you had no idea which room was his. They all had plain white doors with some just having a few scratches and dark stains.

After a few moments of listening out for any noise, you heard movement behind one of the doors and you slowly approached the door before hearing a low groan making you pause just outside. 

“Y/N” he groaned from inside and you couldn’t help but feel a wetness grow between your thighs at the mere sound of his pleasure. 

Almost silently, you pushed the door open to see him palming himself through his skinny jeans. It was a beautiful sight and you could’ve sworn you saw butterflies. 

You slowly stepped into the room, the smell of his cologne overwhelming you completely. It was only then that he noticed your presence and his deep, blue eyes shot up to you. 

They widened for a moment before the familiar smirk spread across his face. He slowly stood up, approaching you with lust filled eyes. 

As soon as he was in reach, he gripped onto your waist and smashed his lips against yours. You could feel him moan into the kiss which only set you off even more. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he moaned, breaking the kiss and leaving open, mouthed kisses down your neck. 

You slung your neck to the side allowing him more access which made him smirk into your neck. Slowly, you trailed your hand down his torso before resting it on his crotch and palming him through his skinny jeans. 

He let out a throaty groan and you could already tell he was already close just from the way his heart was racing. The pool in your panties was growing by the second and you desperately needed something to happen. 

As you started to fiddle with his top button, he reconnected your lips which only made it harder to remove his skin tight jeans. He quickly started to pull you back onto the bed and turned around so you’d fall back onto the bed. 

Before you could continue on removing his jeans he unbuttoned them himself and shimmied them down his waist before moving onto you. 

His lips reconnected with yours, feeling even better than the last few times some how. He fiddled with the hem of your top and you swiftly pulled it over your head, leaving you in your bra and the high waisted jeans you’d worn to the party. 

You slowly pulled down his boxers and his boner sprung out, a small drop of precum dripping from the tip. 

“Someone’s eager,” you giggled, earning an awkward chuckle from Luke before he went back to attack your neck. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he attacked a sweet spot on your neck, making sure to leave a mark. 

You gripped his length as he slowly moved down your chest, quickly removing your bra and moving his way around your nipples. He let out a low groan as you slowly pumped him in your hand which made shivers run through your spine. 

“Faster,” he groaned as you slowly pumped him in your hand, only going slightly faster as he bucked himself into your hand. 

You could feel your breathing become heavy at his reactions which only made him realize how little attention he’d paid to your situation. 

He quickly slid your jeans down your legs, disconnecting your hand from his length. He slowly slid his fingers over the damp material making you involuntarily push yourself onto him. 

“So wet yet I’ve barely touched you.” he smirked, sliding his fingers over the cloth that was separating his fingers and where you needed him most. 

After a while of him teasing you, he slowly slid the lace panties down your legs allowing the cool air to hit your clit. “P-please Luke.” you trembled, barely able to form a sentence. 

Before you could do anything else he plunged a finger into you making your breathing slow to halt. Your eyes fluttered to a close as you desperately tried to get your breathing back to normal but Luke made sure it wasn’t going to happen. 

His finger slowly pumped in and out and the familiar knot formed in your stomach. “I-I,” you started but before you could finish he quickly pulled away, leaving you confused and slightly annoyed.  

“That’s not how it’s going tonight, baby girl.” he winked before reaching into a drawer beside him and pulling out the foil packet. He quickly ripped it open and pushed it over his cock impatiently. 

He rubbed his tip and down your clit before stopping at your entrance, he looked up at you for a moment, waiting for approval which you simply nodded to; knowing any words you would try and form would fail. 

Slowly, he plunged himself into you making you both let out loud moans. Your eyes rolled back as Luke slowly pulled out, allowing you to get used to his size. His strokes were slow which only made the whole experience more pleasurable but you needed more. 

“Harder,” you moaned and with that Luke’s speed grew increasingly fast. Your orgasm was fast approaching and it seemed that his was too. 

“Sorry baby girl but you got me so worked up with that kiss I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last.” he groaned, bucking his hips into yours. 

You took that as an invitation to start pleasuring yourself to the extreme but before you could touch yourself Luke pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own. 

He ran figure of eights over your clit, making his fingers shine from your wetness. His touch only made your orgasm approach faster than ever and the knot in your stomach became tighter with every movement he made. 

“Luke,” you mumbled quietly, hoping he would get the message. His thrusts became faster and his fingers moved faster over your clit as he desperately chased his orgasm as well as pushing you towards your own. 

“Cum for me Princess.” he smirked, which pushed you over the edge. 

White dots clouded your sight and the knot that had so tightly formed inside you slowly faded leaving you a whimpering mess. Your legs were shaky as you tightly gripped onto the soft duvet that was now damp from the mass amount of sweat you’d produced. 

The sight of you whimpering and writhing under him set Luke off almost instantly. You could feel the condom fill with cum inside of you as Luke let out a low groan and threw his head back.

He thrust into you sloppily a few more times to help you both come down from your highs before collapsing down next to you on the bed. You leaned your head against his sweaty torso as he pulled the condom and threw it into the bin next to his bed. 

“Fuck, that was good.” he sighed, his chest still heaving. You simply hummed in response, still reveling in the moment. 

You could feel his gaze on you as you lay there, a thin layer of sweat making your hair stick to your forehead and your neck. 

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, the baby blue eyes you were used to were kinder than you’d seen in a while. Usually, the looks he gave you were cold but this felt different. 

“Are you finally gonna start being nice?” you joked, tracing small shapes across his chest. He rolled his eyes before looking down at you, a small grin creeping across his face. 

“I was only rude to you because I thought you were fucking Calum.” he said plainly, still staring down at you as a small snort escaped your throat. 

“Never,” you scolded playfully, “but even if I was, what was your problem with it?” 

You’d noticed Luke usually tensed up around questions like this, even when it was coming from one of the boys but he seemed so overly confident right now it didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

“Because I wanted it to be me. Ever since you walked through that door I made it my mission to fuck you but when I found out you were there for Calum,” he faded out of his sentence, looking up at the ceiling briefly before returning his gaze back to you. 

“Let's just say, I didn’t overly want his sloppy seconds.” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes and sat up. 

His gaze never left you as you did but he cocked an eyebrow, wondering what you were planning on doing. 

“Do you have any clothes I can borrow?” you sighed, not wanting to have to wriggle your sweaty body into the tight jeans you’d originally come in. 

He slowly stood up, grabbing his sweats from the floor and pulling them on before searching his drawers. He pulled out a plain black shirt and some Calvin Kleins and threw them over to you. 

You quickly pulled the loose boxers up and pulled on the shirt that came down to your mid thighs. The shirt smelt of him and you couldn’t help but bring it up to your face and revel in the scent for a moment. 

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly, unsure whether you were thanking him for the clothes or the experience you’d both just endured. 

Luke had found himself back onto his bed and gave you a small smile as he stared at you silently. 

Just as you were about to leave, assuming you were just a quick fling to Luke, he spoke up after a while of him not speaking. 

“Where do you think you're going?” he smirked from behind you making you halt in your step. You turned around with a cocked eyebrow, butterflies making a slight swarm in your stomach but you were determined to not get too excited. 

“I didn’t give you death stares for that long for you to just leave,” he grinned, scooting over in the bed before patting the space next to him. 

You rolled your eyes and slowly trudged yourself towards his bed before plopping yourself down next to him. He sleepily grinned at you, proud that he managed to get you to stay. 

“Luke Hemmings actually asking a girl to stay after sex, that’s a new one,” you smirked as Luke let out a small chuckle. He pulled you into him by your waist and his scent filled your nostrils once again, making the few butterflies erupt into a dozen. 

“It’s a privilege I saved for a special someone,” he smiled making a crimson blush spread across your face. 

He smiled once again before pulled the soft comforter over the both of you leading you both into a night of spooning and kisses.