#the shower is outside because I knew there was going to be a challenge trying to fit one in no matter what

[girlygirl14534]

Body Heat - Bucky x Reader

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Snowed In, Only One Bed

Length: 3.7k

Summary: A blizzard knocks out the power in the safehouse where you and Bucky are sharing a bed. Can Bucky keep you warm through the cold night?

Author’s Note: It has been so cold where I live lately and there’s nobody better than Bucky to warm me up. I’m entering this work into @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge. I don’t participate in a lot of fandom events, so this was really fun! I used the Only One Bed trope and the Dialogue Prompts “Take your clothes off. Right now,” and “Are you holding back? Don’t.” Happy reading and stay warm! Divider via @firefly-graphics

Read this work on AO3

“You didn’t even want to get egg rolls,” Bucky whined as you grabbed one off of his plate.

You grinned as you bit into it. He smiled back at you, but his shoulders shifted ever so slightly, tipping you off to his next move. His chopsticks swooped onto your plate in retaliation, but you were ready for him, blocking his attempt on your orange chicken.

He glared at you and you relented. He popped the chicken into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your beer. It was a local brew. A little hoppy but not too bitter, with a surprisingly crisp taste. You loved trying beers at every new little town you ended up at. Nothing beat a cold beer after a long mission, even if it was 20 degrees and dropping outside.

It was warm and cozy inside the little cabin. This safe house was cuter than most. It had a little wood stove and lace tablecloth—definitely grandmother-approved. The place was small, but you’d stayed at smaller ones. Although most had at least a few twin size cots. The bed here looked comfortable, but there was only one.

“It’s picking up out there,” Bucky nodded at the window. Outside you could see the snow swirling in the wind.

“The Winter Soldier scared of a little snow?” you teased.

“Oh, shut up. You wouldn’t last ten seconds out there. Remember Helsinki?”

“That is so unfair! I fell into a frozen pond!”

“I told you not to walk on that patch of ice!”

“You were being a know-it-all.”

“That’s because I actually know it all.”

You threw your half-eaten egg roll at him.

“You didn’t even eat it?!”

You shrugged and he glared at you as he finished it. After dinner, you got ready for bed. It had been a long day. When Bucky came out of the shower, you were already under the paisley-printed covers.

He grinned at you. “That’s my favorite bonnet,” he said, nodding at the silky cap on your head.

“You have favorite bonnets of mine?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen you in enough of them. I love the one with rhinestones on the headband. You look like a queen. The Kirby one is really cute, too.”

“Nice try, Bucky.” You threw a pillow at him. “You’re still sleeping on the floor.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

You knew he was going to jump on the bed a second before he did it, but you didn’t stop him. He looked so satisfied with himself.

“Time for bed,” you said as you started stacking pillows on the bed between you.

“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he teased.

“Don’t think I forgot how you hogged the couch in Bangladesh.”

“I maintain that you rolled off of the couch by yourself.”

“Well then consider it protection from me rolling you off the bed.”

He laughed as you finished the wall of pillows, marking your territory. You were just grateful that the bed was big enough to have your own space and that there were enough blankets that you wouldn’t have to share. You loved Bucky, but in your friendship you were more likely to trade insults than share the covers. Was there something more behind the words you traded? Maybe. Sometimes it felt obvious that he felt the same and other times you were certain that he just saw you as a friend.

If you were just friends, you were friends that lived and worked in very close quarters. You’d had a lot of hands-on moments working the mission with him today. If you had a little more privacy, you’d probably be touching yourself right now thinking about the weight of him on top of you as he tackled you to the ground to protect you, his hair tickling your face as he whispered a new tactical plan into your ear. Instead you were stuck here, close but not close enough. You sighed in frustration.

“Need a bedtime story?” Bucky asked.

“Once upon a time, a former assassin wouldn’t shut up while his teammate tried to sleep.”

“Teammate? That’s all I am to you?” he asked. The hurt and offense in his voice almost sounded real.

“What do you want to be described as?” you asked.

“Just get some sleep, princess.”

You chuckled and rolled over, soon falling asleep. You dreamt of him, of course. Of his hands on you. One warm, one cold. And then it was just his left hand. It was so cold. You let him keep touching you, of course. You didn’t care if you got frostbite. You just wanted him to keep touching you.

You were pissed when you woke up before you could climax. But you quickly realized it wasn’t just cold in your dream. Your teeth were chattering in real life.

“Fuck. It’s freezing,” you said.

“Power’s out,” Bucky said. “Must be the storm.”

“Can we make a fire?”

“I checked. The stove is electric.”

“Are you sure? That thing looks older than you.”

Bucky laughed. “I think I saw a few candles in the cupboard.” He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen. He lit them and placed them around the room.

“Bring one here. Maybe I can warm my hands.”

He laughed as he flopped back onto his side of the bed. “I know it’s cold in here. With the blizzard, there’s no way we’ll make it down the mountain. In the morning, we can—”

“I’m not gonna make it to morning! Feel my fingers!”

Bucky outstretched his right hand toward you, smiling in amusement at what he assumed was exaggeration. When you touched him, his expression changed to one of concern. Maybe things were worse than you thought. Maybe it really was frostbite. Bucky started taking down the pillow barrier.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You’re right,” he said as he threw pillows over his shoulder and onto the floor.

“Oooh, say that again.”

He laughed. “It’s too cold in here. You need body heat.”

You rolled your eyes but he kept moving pillows. “You’re serious?”

He nodded as he got rid of the last pillow. He awkwardly opened his arms. You scooted closer to him. This wasn’t how you wanted his arms around you, but you were too cold to deny him. He wrapped his big, strong arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, and not just because of the warmth. He held you tight to him and you would’ve stayed just like forever, but you were still shivering. It felt like the chill had settled into your bones. The extra warmth from Bucky was only making it more obvious just how cold it was in the tiny cabin.

“We need skin to skin,” Bucky said.

You laughed but he didn’t.

“Take your clothes off. Right now,” he said.

Maybe the frigid air was impacting your decision-making, because instead of denying him, you complied. Tried to, anyway. Your fingers were so numb from the cold that you fumbled with the hem of your shirt. He gently nudged your fingers aside and helped you out of your shirt. You’d imagined the first time he took your clothes off a little differently, but you couldn’t care about that now. Once your shirt was off, he took his off too.

He hugged you again then. Your bare skin felt electrified where it touched his. He held your hands to his chest to warm them. With his hardened pecs beneath your fingers, it took all of your willpower not to squeeze.

“Is that better?” he asked.

You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You stayed like that for a few minutes, afraid to move. Afraid that at some point he’d decide that you were warm enough. You weren’t warm enough. In any sense. You needed him closer for survival, but it became increasingly difficult to tell if you needed him because you were cold or because you were horny.

“You’re not warm enough,” he said finally. You didn’t argue.

When he pulled away, the sudden loss of warmth made your body tense up. He immediately placed his arms around you again.

“I won’t let go of you anymore, okay?”

You hated how pathetic your voice sounded when you responded, “Okay.”

His arm reached between your bodies to pull his pants down. You told yourself that you weren’t going to look, but your eyes had a mind of their own. You watched his fingers grip his waistband and tug down his boxers and his pants. Suddenly he was naked. Even in the dim lighting, you could see how big he was. His eyes went straight to yours to check in, but he found no objection. You looked away to be polite, but felt too awkward to look into his eyes. You turned around so that your back was to his chest. You were grateful that he couldn’t see your face when he started to pull your pants down. If he was hesitant about this plan, his movements didn’t show it. He was smooth and deliberate, quickly ridding you of your pajamas and underwear. When you were both undressed, he pulled you close. When you felt his cock against your ass, you shivered, and it wasn’t because of the freezing temperatures.

“That’s it,” he said. “Turn over.”

He didn’t wait for you to move, effortlessly pulling you onto your back and laying on top of you. Bucky was naked. You were naked. And he was on top of you. You were short of breath just thinking about it.

“Don’t tell me I’m taking your breath away,” he teased.

“You’re heavy,” you retorted. “I think you may need to start laying off the eggrolls.”

As you laughed together, you became hyper aware of how close your bodies were, of just how much physical contact you had. The laughing stopped abruptly.

“Why didn’t you take off my bra?” you whispered. “Afraid that once you see these you’ll be ruined for all other boobs?”

“Yes,” he nodded as he reached under you, large hands rubbing your back and unhooking the clasp. He slowly slid your straps down your arms. He looked into your eyes as he pulled your bra from between your bodies and threw it onto the floor.

Here you were, caged in his warmth, looking deep into his eyes like in one of your fantasies. And yet your instinct was to make a stupid joke, find some way to make this feel less serious. But you couldn’t think straight with his dick resting on your stomach and his warm breath on your face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Eh. Still a little chilly,” you joked breathlessly.

“I can get you warmer,” he said seriously.

You laughed. “I don’t think we could physically be any closer than we are right now.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Well, technically we could be a little closer.”

“Barnes, if I go outside in the morning and find out that you cut the powerlines…”

“I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on my watch. I don’t have to move or anything. Just to keep you warm.”

You wanted to roll your eyes and hit him on the arm, but his sincerity caught you off guard.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’m not a fan of the cold either. I’ve spent too much of my life frozen already. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought…”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “And don’t worry, when I tell Nat this story, I won’t even mention the shrinkage.”

He laughed with you and then shook his head at you.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.

“Stick your dick in me, apparently.”

He swallowed nervously. “Are you…? Are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question how wet you were already. You certainly weren’t going to bring up the fact that you had felt his length slowly hardening against you for the last few minutes.

“I, uh, just gotta…” He reached down to pump himself a few times, looking anywhere but you. You wanted to change that.

“You can look at me, Bucky.”

His eyes found yours. You’d never seen this expression on his face before. He was never this easy to read. Even though he’d beaten the Winter Soldier programming, he usually always kept a part of himself closed off. Those defenses were gone now. In their place was yearning. A desire so deep it was overwhelming. The way he looked at you was the same way you felt about him.

You arched your back, drawing attention to your chest. “You can also look here, if it helps.”

He looked at your breasts for the first time. His mouth fell open in awe. You hoped you really were ruining him for other women. You hoped he would never look at anyone else like this for as long as he lived. His eyes went from your chest back to your face as he shifted between your legs. You bit your lip when you felt the head of his cock prod your entrance. It would take everything in your power not to moan. This was probably a very bad idea. But still you let your legs fall open wider to give him easier access.

When he first pushed in, you drew a shaky breath. He stopped moving, eyes anxiously searching yours. He was terrified you’d ask him to stop. Quite the contrary.

“That all you got?” you asked.

He smirked at you before resuming his progress. Despite your earlier joke, you felt your walls stretch around him as he pushed further into you. You felt every single inch, but it was torture not being able to wrap your legs around his hips or claw at his back like you wanted to.

When he was fully seated, he stilled. You took a few deep breaths. It was dizzying, being this close to him, this full of him. It was his turn to tell you, “You can look at me, ya know.”

You looked at him in the flickering candlelight. His hair obscured your view of his face. You reached up and tucked it behind his ear. He nuzzled his face against your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel his warm cock throbbing inside of you. He was looking at you so romantically that you forgot where you were for a moment. Your body did, too. Your pussy clenched around him. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if he’d felt it. You heard him groan. Right before you felt him thrust.

His eyes darted to you, panicked. You’d seen him panic once before, as he pulled you out of the ice in Finland. That day he’d warmed you up by the fire with plenty of hot drinks and some light teasing. You preferred the current method of warming you up. Which is why you let him hear you. You moaned for him. If you’d been less desperate for him to fuck you, you would’ve been embarassed by how needy you sounded. It was nothing compared to the strangled cry Bucky let out with his second thrust. You expected him to keep moving, but he stopped again. He leaned in, eyes urgent.

“The first time I saw you,” he panted, “I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever—”

Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t have him saying things he didn’t mean. “You don’t have to flatter me, Buck—”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true. And you are so beautiful.”

You placed your hands behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. You weren’t sure what it was going to be like, your first kiss with Bucky. Especially since that first kiss was occurring after he was already inside of you. When your lips touched, you both sighed with relief. His lips were soft. You weren’t expecting that. His tongue probed your lips gently, and you gladly gave it access. He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second. He cupped your breast with his right hand, softly stroking it. His touches were almost reverent. It would’ve been romantic if you weren’t so needy. There’d be time for slow and steady. You hoped so, anyway. Right now you needed fire. You needed his touch to chase away the cold.

“Are you holding back on me, Barnes? Don’t.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He bent his head and attached his lips to your neck. He pulled the delicate flesh between his teeth as the hand on your breast eagerly squeezed. His metal hand tightened its grip on your hip. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d have a bruise in the shape of his handprint tomorrow. Proof that this had actually happened. Proof it wasn’t just the best dream of your life.

Maybe you wanted to mark him, too. Maybe that’s why you tangled your fingers in his hair while you raked the nails of the other hand down his back. He grunted as he drove into you with renewed force, the headboard rattling against the wall.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet. So tight. So perfect. Even better than I—” he stopped himself.

“Better than you imagined?” you suggested.

He nodded.

“You imagine me?” you asked, breathless.

“Every day,” he confessed.

You moved your hips in time with his next stroke, taking him deeper than ever. You both cursed. With each thrust, you knew things would never be the same. With each thrust, you got more and more desperate for him to ruin you. You writhed desperately under him and he only gripped you tighter, forcing you to stay still and accept your pleasure like a good girl. He angled his hips so that he was massaging your g-spot with every thrust. The head of his cock dragged against your center of pleasure over and over again in a relentless pursuit for your climax. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder and faster but you didn’t want this to end yet. Not until he was as ruined as you were.

You took your hands away from him and brought them to your chest. You gripped your breasts tightly and moaned. He was mesmerized. You pinched your nipples and rolled your hips, putting on a show for him. You needed to know that he would never forget this. That he would never forget you. You tugged on your nipples and cried his name.

“That’s my job,” he said. You smirked at him.

You put your fingers in his open mouth and brought them to your clit and started rubbing slow circles. You watched his eyes darken. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he licked your fingers clean. Instead of putting your hand back where he found it, he brought his metal fingers to your clit instead, taking over your ministrations there. The cold, hard metal rhythmically massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves until his name was the only word in your vocabulary.

You wouldn’t last much longer. You’d see to it that neither would he. You attached your lips to his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. His fingers on your clit went from slow circles to frantic figure 8s. Your back arched in pleasure as you felt your walls tighten around Bucky’s cock. His hips stuttered as he flooded you with warmth. Your legs shook when you felt him fill you. You whimpered his name. He whispered yours. Before you could even catch your breath, it happened.

You both knew the second the power turned back on. The hum of the fridge, the rattle of the old radiator, the red “Off” light on the coffee pot. It was like a bomb going off in the bubble you’d built. You looked at each other, startled, as if you were just realizing the extent of what you had done. For a split second, you considered pulling away from him and getting dressed, pretending none of this had ever happened. But you didn’t want that, not while his cum was still warm inside you and aftershocks of your orgasm were still rocking your core. You two spoke at the same time.

“It’ll probably take a while before you’re warm eno—”

“The power could go off again at any mo—”

“Sorry—”

“What were you saying—”

You both chuckled self-consciously.

“You love being inside me, don’t you, Barnes?” you teased with no taunting in your voice. You felt his dick twitch. You rolled your hips. “Is that a yes?”

He bit his lip and looked at you with more than lust. It was devotion.

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Good. Because you’re the only one that can keep me warm.”

“What about me?” he asked.

You looked at him, perplexed.

“I get cold, too.”

“What can I warm up for you, Bucky?”

“My ears are kinda cold,” he said.

Oh. Not exactly what you were thinking about warming up, but ok. You reached out to stroke the side of his face. He smiled and blushed, but nuzzled into your hand.

“Your thighs should be pretty warm now…”

Oh. Your thighs could keep his ears warm. You would happily straddle his face in the name of reciprocity. It was the least you could do, right?

…

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The heat hadn’t gone out again during the night, but you still felt like you needed Bucky’s warmth.

“I didn’t tamper with the generator,” Bucky said. “But I should have. I should’ve warmed you up like that when you fell into the lake.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Would you have let me?”

You nodded.

“You would have?!”

“I bought the Kirby bonnet for you,” you confessed.

“What?”

“I know how much you like playing Mario Kart with Sam. I thought you’d like it. I thought maybe it’d make you like me.”

He scoffed. “Are you kidding? By that point, I was already in lo—I mean, I, uh. I really do love Mario Kart, you’re right.”

“Nice save.”

“Let me take you out on a proper date.”

“One condition.”

“Anything.”

“Has to be somewhere warm.”

You shared a laugh.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked.

Want to read more of my writing? Check out my ongoing Stucky x Reader series.

[ceyanabbiolo]

CONTRACT // C.S [19]

Summary: Christopher Sturniolo, a 26-year-old billionaire CEO, agrees to a strategic marriage with Aurora Devereaux, the 21-year-old daughter of his rival, to save his company during a crisis. Raised in a cold, arrogant environment, Chris is used to control and detachment. Aurora, a final-year fashion student, is forced into the arrangement by her powerful father and struggles with the fear of losing herself. As the two navigate their unexpected marriage, they begin to confront emotional walls and develop a connection that challenges everything they thought they knew about love and trust. But with their families’ influence looming, will their bond be strong enough to survive—or will it fall apart?

Warnings: angst

wc: 4137

Chapter 19: Fashion!

I woke up to the soft light filtering through my curtains, the usual quiet of the early morning pressing in around me. The silence felt heavier these days—like it was filled with things left unsaid, because silence meant thinking about memories I wanted to forget.

It had been more than a month since I last saw him, and the sharp ache in my chest was slowly shifting into something harder to name—something quieter, more distant.

I took a long shower, letting the warm water wash over me, trying to scrub away the restlessness tangled inside. Afterwards, I slipped on a light jacket and went for a walk. The city was waking up, but everything felt muted, as if I were moving through a dream. I wandered without much direction, thinking about the show tonight, about the dresses waiting backstage, about the models who trusted me.

That morning, I passed by the coffee shop I used to love, the one I usually picked up coffee at for Chris and me. I hadn’t been there in weeks. I wanted to go in and get something today, but there wasn’t enough time. 

Chris and I used to stop there on slower mornings. He always remembered my order without asking, even when I didn’t.

Still, walking past it brought back the image of him—of us.

Gosh. I needed to stop thinking about him.

By the time I reached the venue, the afternoon sun was dipping low, casting long shadows over the building. I hadn’t seen him in so long, but the weight of his absence was still there, like a ghost I couldn’t quite outrun. Tonight, that ghost felt closer than ever.

Maybe he had already forgotten me. Part of me pitied him—how easy it must be to erase someone who once meant everything. However, I knew beneath that pity simmered a sharp resentment. How could he move on so fast, while I was left tangled in the memories and the silence? It wasn’t fair, and part of me hated him for it.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope for a message from him over the past month, but there was nothing. It was like he’d disappeared completely.

The clock read 6:04 PM. Two hours until showtime.

Backstage was a whirlwind of noise and movement—heels clicking against the floors, hangers scraping metal racks, the low hum of chatter and laughter, makeup artists blending, curling, pinning. But even through the chaos, I could hear my heartbeat. Steady. Focused.

I stepped into the dressing room for a moment of silence. Just a second to breathe.

The noise of the venue faded behind the thick door, replaced by a rare stillness. I faced the mirror, letting out a slow exhale as I smoothed the lapel of my Chanel blazer. It hugged my frame perfectly, paired with the matching skirt and sharp black heels. Chic. Elegant. Like armor.

My fingers hovered at the edge of the blazer before adjusting it again, absently, nervously. This outfit, I remember the day I bought it. Chris had been with me. We were walking past the boutique when I stopped at the window, staring at the mannequin.

“If you want it,” he had said, barely glancing before pulling me inside, “then it should be yours.”

I had laughed. Called him impulsive. He’d called me stubborn. By the end, the blazer was mine.

I blinked the memory away, adjusted my skirt one last time, and straightened my spine.

Outside, everyone was waiting. 

I stood near the center of it all, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning everything.

I walk over to one of the models I need to help.

“Lena, your hem looks perfect now—just remember to hold your posture on the final turn,” I said, adjusting the flow of fabric near her waist. She smiled nervously and nodded.

“Thanks, Aurora. This one’s my favorite,” she said, smoothing the silk down her hip. “Hey, is your fiancé here tonight? He must be proud.”

My hands froze.

The thread between the needle and fabric slipped from my fingers, and I blinked once, twice, before forcing a small smile. “No,” I said, carefully. “He’s not coming.”

“Oh—sorry, I just thought—” “It’s okay,” I cut in gently, moving to the next model without looking back. My chest ached in a way I didn’t expect. He hadn’t messaged. He hadn’t shown up, and yet, for a split second, part of me wished he had.

I continued making my rounds. Two stylists touched up lips and lashes, someone called out for more safety pins, and the scent of hairspray lingered in the air like perfume. I weaved through racks of my designs—my sketches brought to life in silk, denim, lace, and organza.

My fingerprints were on every stitch. Months of sleepless nights, of self-doubt and pressure, and fighting to prove I was more than my last name—it all came down to this night.

“Did Model Six get her shoes?” I asked without looking up, flipping through the list Jen helped me prep.

“Yep,” one of the assistants called from behind a clothing rack. “She's in hair right now.”

I breathed out slowly, more relief than I wanted to admit. My models looked stunning, confident. The makeup artists were ahead of schedule. Nothing was falling apart yet, which almost felt suspicious.

I had just stepped out into the hallway again, the sound of voices and movement returning like a wave, when I heard my name.

“Aurora,” a familiar voice called gently.

I turned to see my supervisor, my design advisor, walking toward me with a warm smile, a clipboard tucked under one arm.

She looked at me for a moment—really looked—and then said, “You’ve changed a lot since the first time you stepped into my classroom.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “I hope in a good way,” I said with a small, unsure smile.

“In every way,” she replied without hesitation. “You were brilliant back then, but you were quiet. Careful. Like you were asking permission to take up space.” 

Her gaze softened. “Now you lead a room like it’s your runway.”

A pause lingered between us.

“You’ve built something for yourself here, Aurora,” she added. “A name, a style, a voice. No matter what happens outside these walls…don’t forget that.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly. She knew about my failed engagement. 

For a moment, I just nodded. The noise of the backstage chaos blurred around me, and all I could think was—

She was right.

I wasn’t just someone’s fiancée, I wasn’t just Thomas Devereuax’s obedient daughter. I wasn't someone waiting for validation, or love, or permission.

I had become someone entirely my own, with help somewhere along the way. 

I glanced at the mirror where a few of the girls were gathered. They looked happy. Excited.

I should’ve felt that too.

No one was coming to the show. My mom had to catch a last-minute flight to California to visit my grandmother, something about legal paperwork she couldn’t push off. Jen texted me this morning, apologizing over and over—her parents had planned a surprise family trip she couldn’t get out of.

I told them it was fine. I said I understood. But standing here, with everything buzzing around me, I couldn’t help but feel the emptiness settle in my chest.

Only one person had messaged me about coming—Darren. He said he wasn’t about to miss the show and “lose his challenge.”

I wasn’t going to lie, I wasn’t too mad about him coming. 

We’d been texting on and off for the past few days—light, casual conversation. Nothing serious, not even that flirty. However, there was something oddly grounding about it. He’d been nice. Consistent. Present. 

Still, part of me knew...he didn’t know me. Not really. Not the way the person I wanted to see once did, or I thought saw me. 

I turned back to the girls with a smile, pushing that feeling down. “Alright, girls—final run-through in an hour.”

I stepped out into the hallway behind the stage, finally catching a moment to myself. The chaos backstage was relentless—models rushing, makeup artists dashing, and last-minute fixes everywhere. My heart pounded, but this brief pause was a chance to breathe.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Photographer: Just got here. Where should I meet you?

I didn’t hesitate and got up. 

Aurora: I’ll come and get you. Side entrance, wait there.

Pocketing the phone, I smoothed the hem of my skirt and headed toward the door. My boots clicked quickly against the floor as I passed by a model adjusting her dress and a stylist fussing with hairpins.

Outside, the cool evening air hit me. I spotted her immediately—shoulder bag slung casually, camera in hand, eyes flicking between her phone and the building. 

“Daphne?” I called, waving.

She looked up, a bright smile spreading. “Aurora! Hi.”

Daphne Denoire walked toward me, her camera bag slung over one shoulder with practiced ease. A recent graduate from a top arts school in London, freshly back in Boston after four years away. She had that effortless "clean girl" look—glowy skin, subtle makeup, soft features. A little shy, but not awkward. Like she knew who she was and didn’t need to prove it.

I stepped out into the hallway behind the stage, finally catching a moment to myself. The chaos backstage was relentless—models rushing, makeup artists dashing, and last-minute fixes everywhere. My heart pounded, but this brief pause was a chance to breathe.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Photographer: Just got here. Where should I meet you?

I didn’t hesitate and got up. 

Aurora: I’ll come and get you. Side entrance, wait there.

Pocketing the phone, I smoothed the hem of my skirt and headed toward the door. My boots clicked quickly against the floor as I passed by a model adjusting her dress and a stylist fussing with hairpins.

Outside, the cool evening air hit me. I spotted her immediately—shoulder bag slung casually, camera in hand, eyes flicking between her phone and the building. 

“Daphne?” I called, waving.

She looked up, a bright smile spreading. “Aurora! Hi.”

Daphne Denoire walked toward me, her camera bag slung over one shoulder with practiced ease. A recent graduate from a top arts school in London, freshly back in Boston after four years away. She had that effortless "clean girl" look—glowy skin, flowy brunette hair, subtle makeup, soft features. A little shy, but not awkward.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting here,” I said as we made our way back inside, the noise backstage growing louder with each step.

“No, no, it wasn’t hard getting here,” she laughed softly, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, “but it was a little confusing figuring out where the entrance was. I walked past it twice before realizing.”

I smiled. “Yeah, it’s not the easiest venue to navigate. Especially when everything’s buzzing like this.”

She glanced around, taking in the flurry of models, stylists, racks of clothes, makeup kits, and last-minute touches. “It’s really cool back here. Organized chaos.”

“Pretty much,” I said, chuckling. “It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

We kept walking toward the small space I had set aside for her to work. 

“So, how do you know Matt?” I asked casually.

Her expression softened, eyes flicking up to mine with a small, thoughtful smile. “Oh…Well, Matt’s like best friends with my brother, his other brothers are tight with him to. Known all of them since childhood.”

“I see…Matt mentioned something about you two working together?” I asked as we made our way down the hallway.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m his photographer right now. He offered me the job not long after I got back.”

“Well, he made a good call,” I said with a small smile. “I went through your portfolio. It was stunning.”

“Thank you,” Daphne said genuinely, then hesitated for a second before continuing. “By the way…I’m sorry about the whole engagement thing. I didn’t want to bring it up if—”

“It’s okay,” I cut in gently, brushing it off.

She glanced at me, eyes kind. “He seemed like he really cared about you.”

I let out a quiet laugh, dry and sharp. “Girl, the opposite. Trust me.”

Daphne tilted her head, brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

I sighed, adjusting the strap of my bag as we stopped just before reaching the dressing area. “It was an arranged engagement. No strings attached. Just business, really. I was supposed to hold up my end of the deal, and he’d hold up his. Nothing more.”

She blinked, visibly thrown off. “Oh…that’s strange.”

“What is?” I asked, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

Daphne hesitated for a beat, then said slowly, “It’s just—when I saw him a while back, he didn’t look like someone walking away from a business deal. He looked…pretty wrecked.”

I stared at her, the noise around us fading for a moment. “Wrecked?”

She nodded, still a bit unsure. “Yeah. He came over to my brother’s like—two weeks ago? He was drunk and…just didn’t seem okay.”

“Oh…” I hesitated, then shrugged like it meant nothing. “I don’t think that had anything to do with me. He probably just got too drunk. He used to get drunk a lot.”

That was a lie; Chris never got wrecked drinking. 

Daphne didn’t push it, and I was grateful.

“Anyway,” I said quickly, steering us away from the topic. “What about you? You and Matt—anything going on there?”

Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. “What? No, no. Matt’s just…he’s my friend.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, alright.” 

She looked at me, slightly curious now. “Why’d you ask, though?”

I turned to her, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. “I don’t know, girly. He just talks about you a lot. Always says really nice things. Kinda sounds like he cares about you more than just a little.”

A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh…well. I think it’s just ‘cause we’ve known each other forever, you know? Since we were kids. He’s always been like that.” 

“Maybe,” I said with a small grin. “But it doesn’t mean there isn’t something there. Matt's a genuinely nice man”.  Unlike his brother. 

Daphne shook her head with a quiet laugh, but she didn’t deny it this time.

When we got to the back of the stage, just past the chaos of makeup brushes and fabric steamers, I turned to Daphne. 

“Start with some candids,” I told her. “Get the models prepping, the energy, all the little things. Then, when the show starts, you’ll have a seat in the front row to get the real stuff.”

“Got it,” she said with a nod, already adjusting her camera strap and glancing around with a sharp eye.

I watched her slip into work mode, blending into the background like a shadow, her lens already snapping as one of my models laughed while getting her eyeliner touched up. 

I took a deep breath, standing still for just a second as the adrenaline built. This was it. All those late nights, the sketches, the fittings, the reworks—it all led to tonight.

I started slightly daydreaming about the days I’d get to through my actual very own fashion show, that dream seemed far away, though, for now.

By the time 8 PM rolled around, the girl from my year who was opening the show was practically spiraling. Her panic was contagious, and despite my best efforts to stay calm, I could feel my nerves starting to fray, too.

There were thirty of us showcasing tonight, just thirty students selected out of the two hundred graduating. It was an honor to be part of the first show of the season, one of the most anticipated of the year, and I was closing it. The pressure was suffocating, but in the best way.

The lights dimmed slightly as the final checks happened, and I paced behind the curtain, watching as the opening models got into position. Music began to hum through the venue, bass vibrating under my feet.

I couldn’t help the wave of loneliness that crept in, even as I read Darren’s message: “I’m watching from the second row.” This wasn’t how I thought today would look.

My father was in jail, my mother had flown to the other side of the country, Jen was in a different timezone altogether, and Chris…Chris wasn’t in my life anymore.

All I had was Darren—a guy I’d met barely two weeks ago. Somehow, that fact made the silence behind the curtain feel even louder.

The show went on, each collection unfolding like a story on the runway. I stood backstage, hands loosely clasped, watching the girls in my year step forward one by one. Their speeches echoed through the venue—nervous at times, but full of pride. Every design was different—some bold and eccentric, others soft and elegant. You could feel how much of themselves they had poured into their work.

Their creativity filled the room with energy, their voices laced with hope, dreams, and relief that this moment had finally come. I clapped for each one, genuinely moved. It was beautiful to witness. These were the same girls I had studied beside and stressed with. Now they were glowing.

Still, a small part of me twisted with nerves. I was closer. The last to go. Every step, every light cue, every word—I’d rehearsed it all. But standing there, watching their speeches, I couldn’t help but wonder if mine would be enough. If my designs are enough. If I were enough.

“Aurora, you're up,” one of the coordinators whispered, gently tapping my shoulder.

My heart gave a sharp thud. I nodded, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. The room behind me buzzed with soft chatter and footsteps, but everything in me stilled.

I turned to look at my models—each of them dressed in the pieces I had sketched, stitched, cried over, started over, and finally finished. They stood in a line, radiant, like walking poetry.

“You all look amazing,” I said, my voice low but steady. “Seriously. Thank you for bringing my vision to life. You’re gonna be incredible out there.”

They smiled at me—some nervous, some excited, all glowing under the stage lights. I gave them a final nod, then turned and started walking—not toward the audience yet, but toward the side curtain, where I could stand in the shadows and watch.

Then I saw it.

The lights, the full crowd, the music pulsing low beneath the chatter. I saw the silhouettes of heads turning, cameras ready, people leaning forward in anticipation. It hit me all at once—this was real. My stage. My name. My designs.

For a moment, I didn’t move. I just stood there, hidden behind the curtain, taking it all in.

One by one, the models began to step out.

They walked up and down the runway, turning at the end with practiced elegance. The music swelled with every new look that came out. From the backstage shadows, I watched the audience nodding, reacting, smiling—some even whispering. Cameras flashed, phones recorded. But all I could do was stare, frozen between awe and disbelief.

Then, I heard the gentle voice of the coordinator again. “Okay, Aurora. It’s time. You have to go give your speech.”

My stomach twisted.

I glanced down at my notecard again, then back at my models—now lined up at the front of the stage, waiting for me to join them.

With a slow breath, I stepped out. The crowd clapped, the lights were blinding, and for a second, I felt like a stranger in my own body. Then I looked at them—all my girls, standing in my work—and I felt much better.

I took a breath, feeling the heat of the spotlight on my face, the quiet expectation of the room settling around me. I tightened my grip on the mic and began.

“Hello everyone, my name is Aurora Devereaux, a fourth-year graduate. I just want to start by saying thank you. Thank you all for being here tonight.”

I turned slightly, gesturing to the ten beautiful women standing behind me.

“These ten models behind me are wearing pieces that represent more than just fabric and design. Each of these dresses was inspired by the belief that fashion is, and always should be, for everyone. Everybody, every story, every presence deserves to be celebrated. There’s no one type of beauty—and I wanted these looks to reflect that.”

My voice shook slightly, but I steadied myself.

“When I started my final year, I knew I wanted to bring to life the ideas that lived in my head four years ago, when I first walked into this school. Back then, I was scared, unsure, and didn’t know if I belonged here. But tonight, seeing this vision come alive… I know I do.”

I smiled gently, scanning the room.

“I’m endlessly grateful for the girls who volunteered to walk for me, for every makeup artist, every assistant, every member of staff who worked behind the scenes to make this possible. To my fellow students, your talent pushed me to be better. Then to my mom and best friend, who couldn’t be here tonight…I thank them for pushing me as well.”

Another mention lingered quietly in the back of my mind—someone who had once been a constant, who knew me in ways no one else did. For a moment, I felt the ache of it, the absence louder than I wanted to admit. I swallowed it down. This wasn’t about the people who left. It was about the ones who stayed, and the work that brought me here.

I let the words sit for a second, heart full.

“Thank you again. Truly. This night means more than I can say.”

With that, I gave one final smile, nodded politely, and stepped away from the microphone. The sound of loud applause echoed through the auditorium as I made my way off the stage, heart racing but steady now. My models followed, their dresses shimmering beneath the lights, and for a moment, I let myself breathe.

As I moved backstage, my supervisor took the stage, thanking the audience and preparing to close out the evening with a few final words. I stood off to the side, watching him speak, but my thoughts were still scattered—part pride, part emptiness.

The show was over. I had done it. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel like the ending I imagined.

My fellow classmates gathered in small clusters, congratulating one another, complimenting each other's work with excited energy buzzing in the air.

Even Daphne came up to me, eyes wide with awe as she grinned, “I want to wear every single one of your designs.” 

I laughed, touched by her words, but before I could respond, I heard someone call my name—clear and familiar over the post-show chatter.

“Aurora!”

I turned, instantly recognizing Darren weaving through the crowd toward me. A smile tugged at my lips as I walked over to meet him, the tension in my shoulders softening just a little.

“You actually came,” I said, almost surprised despite his earlier message.

“Of course I did,” he grinned. “A challenge is a challenge, but… I think I would’ve come even if there wasn’t one.”

He held my gaze for a second longer, then from behind his back, he pulled out a single white rose.

“For the designer of the night,” he said, offering it with a crooked smile.

I blinked, caught off guard. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he said simply.

I took the rose, fingers brushing his for a moment. The petals were soft, delicate—like the moment itself. I stared at it, then at him, my throat tightening just slightly.

“Thank you, Darren,” I said, quieter than I meant to.

Darren rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little unsure of himself. “I don’t know if this is the best time to ask,” he started, eyes flicking to mine, “but… I’d really like to take you out sometime. Like, a real date.”

I blinked, taken aback—not because I hadn’t thought he might eventually ask, but because he asked now, right after all of this.

I hesitated. My heart still felt bruised, not quite ready to fall again. But something about Darren—the way he showed up, the way he didn’t push, didn’t expect—made the word slip out before I could second-guess it.

“…Okay.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Wait—really?”

I gave a soft smile. “Really.”

A grin spread across his face. “Alright then,” he said, clearly trying—and failing—to hide his surprise. “I’ll message you.”

“Okay.”

And then, without another word, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. I felt my breath catch. He pulled back slightly, eyes searching mine for any sign of discomfort. There wasn’t any. Before I could say anything else, he gently took my hand and lifted it, brushing a kiss to my knuckles.

“I’ll see you soon, Aurora.”

I muttered, barely above a whisper, “Yeah… see you.”

Darren gave me one last smile before slipping back into the crowd, disappearing between groups of lingering guests and students.

I looked at the ground, still smiling. 

It lingered on my lips, soft and surprised, leftover from Darren’s touch and the strange warmth it brought. I fiddled with the flower in my hand. My heart felt a little lighter—lighter than it had in weeks.

I looked back up, scanning the room for my supervisor— Until I saw him. My breath caught. Just a few meters away, standing still amidst the blur of people, was my ex-fiancé.

A bouquet of red roses clutched in one hand, my usual iced coffee in the other.

His eyes locked onto mine—steady, unreadable—then flicked to the single white rose in my hand. I saw his jaw clenched. Face red, knuckles white around the bouquet, his gaze sharp and cutting, brimming with anger.

After more than a month of silence.

He came for me, and he had just seen everything.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS HERE!

[a/n: I'm warning you now. Prepare for major angst next chapter. womp. Also, happy 1 month to Contract!? 19 chapters on the 19! Like and reblog! Mwah] – Ceyana

tags: @loser41ifee @bluestriips @mattsfrenchtoast @slvtf0rchr1s @courta13 @emeraldsturns @mattscore @chriss-slutt @chrissturniolodailysluts @pip4444chris @oopsiedaisydeer @y3sterdaysproblem @sagesturns @prettyingreen4chris @ilovenicksturniolosblog @lm-a-mirrorball @idkwhatimdoinghereeeeeee @kingofeverythingmb @kitty-meow-meow44 @maraschino9 @mattsdemi @chrissturniolobendmeovernow @kenah-sturniolo @le4hsblog @idkwhatthisis2009

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[ibelongtoseverussnape]

Retired!Severus Snape is a menace. To have you as his young little wife? Pfff! Sign him up! He'd come home from doing backyard work without magic because with magic is too easy. And he hates easy things. It makes everyone want to do it and it loses it's sense of uniqueness, you know? That's one of the reasons of why he married you. Saw you with your friends in a bar and he knew you weren't easy. But as we mentioned before, he loves hard things. That man can handle a challenge, and after being a teacher since the beginning of his thirtys...God knows. God knows.

His stamina is truly mesmerizing. His words. The way he carries himself and carries you when you can't...hot. BURNING HOT. We love a man that can be his own and yours fully, if you know what I mean.

And in bed? You know things will get NASTY when the lights turn red. You could be sitting in bed with a book, in your pj's after a long day of house cleaning, sitting with a cup of ice cold water in your night table and the AC on after a shower; but when that man does nothing but lay an eye on you...Sorry, Odysseus. He's going to be the one to make Troy burn and put off the fire in the same night.

Retired!Severus Snape would eat anything you make. And I mean anything. So when he started to gain some weight, he started to hit the gym. You tremble everytime it comes to mind. And he was slowly...developping...a dad bod.

A DAD BOD.

Retired!Severus Snape loves cuddles. Triply adores smex. ✨️smex✨️

Loves to have your attention and will do anything to get it. And in that spicy time, he doesn't let you look away from his two obsidian eyes as he makes you slowly tremble and break with every thrust he makes you take.

Retired!Severus Snape holds your face in his hands as his thrusts become handy, making you look up at him as his lips form a pout and he speaks dirty things to you, knowing you can't handle it for too long.

He loves when you read new things and want to try them out. When you told him to try the leaning thing on the doorframe...?

...

..

.

A moment of silence, please.

Hardcore. All night long. Like animals.

Next question.

Or when you told him the "Think fast, I'm a random girl." And tried to kiss him? He pushed you outside the house and locked you out. That night he had to make it up to you even tho it was your idea, because he knows how girl math works, and even if it was YOUR IDEA, HE locked YOU, OUTSIDE! He didn't use his wand. It was too easy to push you outside. What would you do? Push him? And he also made sure you didn't have your wand with you, so that way, it was easy for him to lock you out, but not easy for you to come in. He does some easy things, but when he does, he'll make sure you won't have it easy to have your way around. Sorry, baby.

Retired!Severus Snape who LOVES sundresses. Not on anyone. But on you. They're too easy to just simply raise up the skirt and pum. Let's go. He doesn't argue with this type of easy. He's a weak man in this element. Don't tempt him, he'll fall. Without thinking twice. And he gets drunk on you easily too.

When your father found out you had married an older man...he didn't take it very well, and after he came to your house, your husband's rest place, to bother the person who is his peace. That will certainly not end well. The next day your father texted you saying he was dissapointed. Saying Severus was probably just a pervert who was taking advantage of you and he would be soon tired of you and you'd return back to your parents home. That morning, Severus had woken up early, and when your phone dinged he saw the message first.

Suffice to say he spent the whole morning between your legs. Just because of that message. "Only weak men give up. Quitting is easy, pumpkin." He muttered and looked you straight in the eye, taking your hand and burrying it in his hair, eating you out like a starved man. "And I," he a long, lewd lick in between your folds "Don't like," another one, pushing a little deeper this time "Easy things."

[vegapvnked]

No Time To Die

One Piece!Various x F!Gojo!Reader - 3,300 words

Synopsis: In a world dominated by warring marines and pirates, a young girl, you, is born with extraordinary abilities causing the power balance of the world to tip and for unlikely friends to be made.

I have this book posted on another site and much longer, this is only the first chapter. Book is linked at the end. Please don’t steal!! ^^

From the moment you were born, everything was handed to you on a silver platter.  Your food, your homework, even your powers.  Yes, it’s no secret that you were born with immense strength.  Constantly being showered in praise about how you were the honored one.

The only known bearer of Six eyed Haki, also known as Limitless Haki.  On the same par, if not above Divine Haki.  Limitless Haki allows the user to manipulate and distort space, along with various other abilities including ‘infinity’.  The ability to slow down anything entering a certain radius of you.  Essentially stopping anything from touching you at all.

You we’re told you were untouchable.  The Honored One.  And you hadn’t even reached your teen years yet.  You truly were a miracle to the world..

Maybe this would be a dream come true for some, not for you.  You were isolated, unpunished, and miserable.  Every day was honing your powers, studying, and manners.  Though, they couldn’t exactly stop you when you wanted to go out.  The first time you ever ventured outside the walls of your mansion was when you were ten years old. 

“[Name]-Sama!” One of your attendants called as you walked through the gates. “You must’ve leave, I beg of you! You-“

A sharp glare from you was all it took to make her shut up. Everyone in the estate respected you.. or would fear be a better word?  After all, such a powerful ability was currently in the hands of a child.  A child who hated her life.

“Try and stop me.” You challenged, your gaze unwavering.  A chill ran down her spine, she felt as if you could see into the very depths of her soul.  In her mind, anyone could crumble under your glare.

She reluctantly backed off.  You knew she would.  No one in this house ever challenged you.  That’s what made it so boring, everything was just given to you.  You’d never felt a sense of accomplishment because your grades were what was expected and you never truly earned anything on your own.  You were sick of it.

”..Please be back soon, [Name]-Sama.. your studies are important-“ 

“I’ll be back tonight.  Don’t come looking for me.”

You turned around and continued walking out of the gate, completely disregarding her words.  No one in town seemed to even know who you were.. people kept walking on by, going about their daily lives.  Children your age were playing around, chasing each other and laughing.  Small shops were set up on the street selling various items from food to souvenirs to clothes. 

To you, everything was dark.  All you picked up on was everyone’s Haki signature, no matter how small.  Everyone had Haki, just very little and unable to use.  Courtesy of the Six eyed Haki.

You turned away from the sight of happy families going about their lives.  Children being free to be children with only the weight of what candy they would like resting on their shoulders.  Something deep within you yearned for that same life.  The life of a normal kid.  But, life is far from fair.  Dealing you a joker card that could be seen as a blessing or a curse depending on who you asked.

You stood at the edge of town, looking down at the harbor below.  Merchant ships were docked at every point they could be with men loading and offloading cargo.  

The sounds of idle chatter filled your ears and the smell of salt invaded your nose.  The cool breeze blowing off the ocean pushed your hair around.  It felt freeing.  You looked out over the ocean, as far as your eyes could see.  For once, it wasn’t all dark.  The view actually was bright and lively, refreshing.

“[Name]-Sama.  Please pay attention.” Your mentor gently chided.  Practically begging for you to give his lesson an ounce of your care.

”This is boring.” You grumbled with a small scowl.  Despite how you felt about everything, you knew you had to do it.  It was your responsibility.  The world was thrown out of balance the moment you were born and it was up to you to keep it in check..

So, begrudgingly, you stayed put and payed attention to the lesson.  Everything he taught was about how Haki worked.  Obviously, he couldn’t teach about your own Haki since only you possessed it.  There were no textbooks to aid him in teaching about your Haki.  He could only do his best in teaching the basics and hope you were clever enough to figure the rest out on your own.. much to his dismay.

-

“That’s excellent, [Name]-Sama!” Another mentor of yours clapped as you displayed your abilities in physical training.

”No one could possibly stand up to you!” She continued clapping and drowning you in compliments.  

You stared her down.  Your six eyes in full effect as you analyzed the small changes in her.  The temperature in her face changed slightly, signaling a changing emotion.  You Tsk’d.  She hated you.  That little change was detest.  Scorn.  Still, you didn’t say a word, going back to your training.  

What she personally thought of you didn’t matter.

-

“[Name]-Sama.. please, you must eat dinner.” An attendant urged you.  You simply scowled at the unappetizing meal on your plate.

It was no secret you were a very picky eater, all the chefs and attendants knew this.  Despite that, they continued trying to convince you to eat things you didn’t find appetizing.  Sure, this may not be a big deal in the big picture, but what 10 year old wants to eat ratatouille and caviar?

You pushed the plate away from you and stood up, leaving.  No one tried to stop you.  No one said a word as you exited the room with a displeased look plastered on your face..

You took a deep breath of the salty air.  Seagulls called from above as they flew around the ships, stealing scraps of food from unsuspecting workers.

You made your way down the stairs that led to the harbor.  Each step was a slightly different height, it didn’t surprise you much since it was carved in stone.  You reached the docks and looked up in awe of the massive ships.  The view from your previous position didn’t do Justice to just how massive the boats were.  Why is this the first time you’ve ever seen this..?

You looked down as you sensed something approach.  A black cat.  It walked between your legs and rubbed on you with a small purr.  You kneeled down and pet it, causing the small animal to purr louder.  After a minute of this, the cat wandered off, it just came and went.  How weird, were all cats like that?

You watched as the cat walked up a ramp into one of the ships and disappeared.  Having nothing else you wanted to check out, you followed the cat up the ramp and into the ship.  It wandered up to the main deck and jumped up on some cargo, you followed in its footsteps.  It felt weird for you to not have to be proper.. but good at the same time.

It meowed and jumped up on top of the cabin, you jumped up after it.  It was a game! You had to catch the cat.  Eventually, the cat took off running, prompting you to do the same.  It jumped off the railing and back into the dock and continuing to run.  You followed close behind, jumping off the railing and landing on the dock before giving chase to the small feline.

The cat jumped onto a box a man was carrying, causing him to lose balance for a moment.  Then you also used the box as a stepping stone and the poor man fell over.  

“Stupid kids—“ He growled as he hit the ground, glaring at your back.

The cat was running all the way to the end of the harbor with no intentions of stopping.  Believe it or not, this was your first experience with a cat.  Within your family’s estate there were no pets.  The most you saw were birds and squirrels.  You silently chased after the cat as it reached the end of the dock.  It stopped and rubbed on your legs again as if it was fully aware you weren’t going to hurt it.

It walks between your legs and hops onto a small boat.. what an odd design.  The actual hull, if you could call it that, resembled a black coffin.  It had a single mast that looked like a massive sword with black sails attached.  

The cat sat down on the chair right in the center of the boat and curled up.  Something about this ship said not to touch it.  So obviously, you touched it.  Hopping onto the boat to pet the cat as it slept.

Your attention was drawn when you picked up on the strongest Haki you’d ever felt coming up behind you.  Whoever was approaching made it very clear that they were on another level.  Sure, you had Haki that no one else in the world had but you were still just a kid.  Anyone with more experience would obviously have an advantage and at the moment… the gap in skill was obvious, even to you who was raised being told she was the strongest.

You whipped your head around to pinpoint where the Haki was coming from and zoned in on a man.  Sharp golden eyes sharp as a blade, a long black coat, and a large sword on his back much like the mast on this boat.  What were the chances that this was his boat?  The closer he got the more that probably solidified.  Who was this man?

He stopped on the dock next to his boat, looking from you to the cat you were petting.  You felt.. small.. under his gaze.  Like you weren’t anything more than an insect to him.  That wasn’t something you were used to.  For a moment that seemed to drag on for ages he didn’t say a word.

”Child, what are you doing?” He broke the silence with a simple question.

”..Petting a cat.” You pushed down your nervousness to answer as you stepped out of the boat.  Shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

“I left for the day.” You kicked a rock.  It wasn’t a lie, and you didn’t wanna say you ran away because you would be going back.

”And you decided to follow a cat on a strangers boat?” He asked with an ever so slight undertone of judgment.  

You nodded.  Your pride prevented you from apologizing to him for jumping on his boat just to pet a cat.  You never tore your eyes away from his as you spoke, trying to look unfazed by his presence.  You had yet to learn who he was, so..

”Who are you?” 

He took a moment to answer.  Looking down at this odd little girl who looked like she held the universe in her eyes. An odd sense of kinship with the small little being in front of him arose.  Why? He doesn’t quite know himself.  But he knows you’re not an ordinary child.

”Dracule Mihawk.” He paused.  “You?”

”[Name] [Lastname].” 

[Lastname].. he’s heard that somewhere before.  Between the hushed whispers of marines and fearful talk among pirates.  The name most assumed was nothing more than an old wives tale made up to scare people.  He couldn’t resist asking.

”Does the phrase ‘Six Eyes’ mean anything to you?” 

Your brow creased by a hair and that was all he needed.  The rumors were true, the legend and the mystery.  The [Lastname] clan wasn’t just some old tale from the grand line, they were real.  And it seemed you were a daughter of it.  Fascinating.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked a bit defensively.  Admittedly, you had little to no experience with people outside of those within your estate, so a situation like this was foreign territory for you.  

“Your surname has quite a reputation.” He stated as he sat down on the chair the cat formerly sat on.  It had ran off when he arrived.  “I’m actually quite curious about the six eyes, would you care to indulge me?”

You found yourself wanting to talk about your ability.  Wanting for some form of validation from him.  Why though?? You get plenty of praise from the attendants and mentors at home.  The reason why was because he was strong.  You could tell from the moment you sensed him that he was on a whole other level.  No one back home was strong in your eyes.  This craving to be acknowledged by someone stronger than yourself grew and grew, causing you to eventually take a seat in front of him and start telling of what the six eyes are.

He listened intently as you explained how it worked.  So much power at such a young age.  No wonder your family was legendary.  His face remained stoic throughout your explanation with subtle changes every now and then when you told him something particularly interesting.

“And that’s how the six eyes work.” You finish, excitedly waiting for what his reply would be.  Was he impressed? Did he think you were cool? Why were you all of a sudden so desperate… maybe the lack of parental figures played a part..

“Enthralling.  You can do so much with Haki at such a young age.  How old are you, child?”

”Ten!” You answered immediately.

Ten years old.. was he even near that level at that age? He couldn’t be sure.  What he did know was that the child in front of him was extraordinary.

”And how have you learned to use these abilities?” He assumed you must have a very skilled teacher in order to develop this much.  

“I have a few mentors.  They just taught me the basics, that’s all.” 

That genuinely shocked the man, though he didn’t show it.  This much power and only having been taught the basics? You were truly a gifted child.  Something in him was inclined to… help..? To train you.  To make you even better than you were.  An out of place emotion for the older man.

So, he took you under his wing.

Over the next few days he stayed docked on your island to train you.  Your attendants noticed they you often disappeared before sunrise and came back after sunset.  Your new training was much more exhilarating.  More on your level! You’d already long since mastered the basics and to finally be trained by someone you viewed as strong was the best training you could ask for.  

Just in those few short days, your power increased.  You could keep infinity up for longer, your stamina increased, and your power output more than doubled.  All because your mentor had real experience and talent.  What a difference that made.  He’d even gotten you a pair of darkened sunglasses when you complained about your eyes making your head hurt.  Admittedly, it helped.

You’d learned that Mihawk was something called a Warlord, meaning he had to leave soon.  He never stayed in one place for too long.  Your makeshift training camp was coming to a close and strangely, you didn’t want it to end.  You’d finally met someone you could actually learn from.  On your end, the farewell was sad.  It was sad on his end too only he kept his stoic facade up.

He patted your head as he boarded his ship during the early morning hours.

”Keep growing, [Name].  I’ve no doubts you’ll become even stronger.  Impress me.” He encouraged as he pushed his boat away from the dock.  With your pride on the line, you tried so hard not to be emotional.  To be strong like he taught you to be.  It’s strange how affected you’d become after only a few days.  Were your daddy issues that bad??

After a few minutes of watching his ship get smaller and smaller, you broke.

”Please, stay safe!” You yelled at the top of your lungs.

He was too far for even your six eyes to see his face clearly, but he smiled.  You’d grown on him quite a lot over the past through days, and he silently prayed for your safety as well.

His ship got smaller and smaller, until you could no longer sense his presence on the horizon.  You stood there for a long while after he departed, staring at where the sky meets the sea.  That became your motivation.  To grow even stronger and surpass him, then to meet again and show him how much you’ve grown.

You couldn’t wait for that day to come.  For the day you could finally say with certainty that you’re the strongest.

Years past, you trained harder and harder.  Your mentors finally let you venture beyond the island, namely, to the marine headquarters.  Such a powerful woman should obviously be working on the side of good!

The higher ups in the marines always had their eyes on the [Lastname] clan.  Only the children directly descended from the main branch of it could inherit the Six Eyed Haki.  They wanted to make you an admiral.. after proper navy training of course.  Sengoku himself expressed his desire to be on good terms with you.  You were treated as an adult despite only being 17.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had no desire to become an admiral or a marine at all.  Mihawk was never an admiral.  Speaking of, you obviously asked about the man when you met Sengoku.  Along with the little lie that you were just curious about the strongest swordsman in the world and nothing more.  You still had your sunglasses gifted by Mihawk.  An item precious to you now, serving as a reminder of your goal.

“I do hope you’ll give due consideration to our proposal.” Sengoku remarked as you walked side by side down the halls of the Marineford building.  

“I will.  After all, with just the admirals you have now it must be hard keeping pirates in check.” You smirked.  Oh, and did you mention you’d gotten a heck of a lot more cocky? 

Sengoku had to bite back a scowl.  Cocky brat.

“You can.. put it that way.” He gritted.  With great power comes great arrogance.  And you were a perfect example of that fact.

”I hope you enjoyed your time here.  As I said, please consider our offer carefully.” He offered his hand to shake to which you begrudgingly took.

”Yeah, sure.” You promptly pulled your hand away and shoved it into your pocket.  “Cya.”

Exiting the building and heading down to the ship your clan owned with a small scowl on your face, you thought about how you would even go about your plan.  You couldn’t exactly continue to get stronger while staying on your island all by your lonesome.. and your attendants but they weren’t important.

You walked up the ramp and stepped onto the main deck of the ship, turning and heading to your cabin.  Ignoring the various workers looking your way as you shut the door.

The ship rocked slowly as it departed from the dock and back out into The Tarai Current.  You were temporarily granted special permission to use this current despite not being a navy vessel due to your, Ahem, power status.  And because there was really no other way to reach Marineford.

You plopped down on your couch next to the window and looked out it absentmindedly.  Your mind going back to formulating a plan on how to get stronger.  You didn’t want to join the marines, that was too boring.  And you didn’t exactly care for the thought of being ordered around all the time..

As your eyes drifted across the horizon you spotted something that made a light go off in your head.  A pirate ship.  You smirked.  What about a pirate? What was his name? Gold Roger? The stories made him out to be crazy strong.  And all the Warlords were pirates hired by the government.  And so, your plan was made.  You were gonna be a pirate.

—

Link to Story

[w2soneshots]

INside -Angry ginge

words: 0.9k+

warnings: none.

summary: you enter the inside house and quickly get along with a particularly attractive ginger boy.

notes: hello loves! I’ve had so many people asking for more angry ginge fics so here’s a one off😉. Enjoy!!💓🫶🏼

Today I'm going into a house with nine other people for a week. No connection with the outside world, no internet and with mostly strangers that I've never met. It's for the sidemen's new reality show. I haven't been told much about it so it will be quite a surprise.

The taxi dropped me off outside and I grabbed my suitcase from the boot. I pushed open the heavy door to reveal what looked like an airport security. I furrowed my brows. "The fuck is this?" I walked through the scanner then read the signs on the mirror. "Smile for the camera." I pulled a face then popped my suitcase onto the conveyor belt. Once I was finished I opened the door on the right.

The house was quiet when I made my way up the stairs. "Hello?!" I shouted out. I walked into the living room. "Hey!" Joe ran towards me. "Hi! I can't believe you're in here!" We shared a quick hug. I've known Joe for years. It was nice to know that someone I knew was in the house. Then another guy stepped forward. "Hello. I'm Morgan." He greeted me with a cute smile. I smiled back. "Hi, I'm y/n."

The next to arrive was Chloe (who I know since I was on her podcast), followed by everyone else. They all seemed nice but I could tell that there was a few people in it just for the money, which I understand but I want to make friends and just have some fun. We picked our beds. I ended up between Morgan and Manrika. We all sat down on the sofa to have a chat. After a little while Miniminter, Vik and KSI walked into the room. Everyone erupted in cheers and claps.

"Welcome to inside!" JJ started dramatically. "You will all be battling it out for a prize fund that starts out at one million pounds." Everyone clapped once again. "As you guys can see, there's not much in this house. That's because everything costs money." Vik said, putting on his best presenter voice. "No Vik no!" Joe joked. Simon began, "We're going to be opening the shop so you can buy whatever you want, but you're going to be paying for it through everyone's prize money." Vik went on to explain all about the shop, the daily challenges and food (we only get basic stuff unless we want to purchase it from the shop).

They left soon after and we continued to chat away. Until the tv screen lit up, reading 'the shop is now open'. Everyone raced downstairs. "Two grand for the pool balls?! You're taking the piss." Ginge stared at the board. "You have to pay for a shower? Are you fucking joking!" My eyes widened. I really didn't want to have cold showers every day.

After a long conversation about the shop and trying not to spend anything we all went upstairs. Then lunch arrived. It was freezing cold rice and chickpeas. I genuinely could not force myself to eat it, it was disgusting. Everyone went to eat their food then me and Ginge slipped away from the group to go downstairs. We giggled as we hurried into the shop. "I'm fucking starving." I ordered a packet of crisps and a fizzy drink. He ordered the same. We sat on the floor and ate in peace.

After the first night I slowly began to catch feelings for Morgan, and Chloe was quick to notice. "But do you find him attractive?" She asked me as we got ready. "I don't know. He's tall and he's cute." I replied, not making eye contact with her. "Oh you definitely like him!" She chuckled.

It started to become a running joke in the house. The way we looked at each other, our banter and the fact we always sat next to each other. Me and Ginge didn't talk about it directly but one day Specs was telling me about the conversation he had had with Morgan and it was very interesting. "He said that he would go on a date with you if he got the chance." "You're joking?" I was slightly surprised and I didn't want to look like a mug if Specs was just having me on. "No seriously. He likes you y/n."

Ginge left the next day and I actually missed him. It felt weird not having him around. I ended up getting into the final three before I left. I was really happy for Chloe and Manrika. I also saw Morgan again, we shared a quick hug then I gave him the rundown on what happened after he had left. We filmed tiktok's, took pictures and then said our goodbyes. I felt as though I had made some really good friends and made some interesting memories.

A few days after the final I got a call from Morgan. "Hey!" I answered in a cheerful voice. "Hi, I just wanted to ask if you were free anytime this week?" He got straight to the point and sounded slightly nervous. "Are you asking me out?" "Uh- well- yeah." He stumbled on his words. "So Specs wasn't joking." I thought out loud. "What?" "I'll explain on our date. You free Friday?" I asked. Unbeknownst to me a huge smile spread across his face. "Yeah I am." "Great see you then."

After I declined the call I quickly rang Chloe. "Babe, you'll never guess who just asked me out!" I began excitedly. "Who? Wait! Ginge?! No way!" She screeched down the phone.

[theus-what-are-you-doing]

DAY 30: COLD

Yet another addition to @cinderellaboyincorectquotes and their anonymous submitter's "Last week of October Challenge". I thank you both for the prompts as always, It was quite fun to work on this one, especially as I had more time to work on it today!

With you guys seemingly liking the prior entry with the fic, I thought it would be good to do a less angsty oneshot to help ease those feelings caused by our poor scared Buddy yesterday. It admittedly has been posted much later than I intended because writers block held my ass in a chokehold midway through. Nevertheless, I made the fic a little longer to try and make it up to you all for the wait. As always, I hope you all enjoy it!~

(If you guys stick around till the end, you might get another art piece linking to the fic too 👀)

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

“Look like you’re Freezing”

Cinderella Boy OneShot || 1988 Words

Tonight was a special night.

It was Buddy’s first night of proper freedom, after all. The first night he had a chance to go outside after spending weeks smuggled away in the attic of the one and only Chase Everett Hollow, the first night he would be able to feel the soft autumn breeze on his skin or hear the soft crunch from stepping on the vibrant leaves that lined the streets. The first night that the chapter of his new life started.

See, a few weeks prior, Buddy and his key companion, Violet, managed to flee from the restrictive grasp of Ex Libris and the cage that they were locked within under his servitude. How? It was quite simple, or at least it was for Buddy. He was just waiting around in his cell for his next orders when he heard the door unlock and braced to see his master, only to see the face of…Deacon? He would soon be pulled from his shackles, encouraged to flee from the room. That's when he would come across Chase in the main hall running circles around the being he had grown to be so terrified of, purple key in hand and laughing. He would always ask how they managed to find the location and get in but it was always a mixed reprise about hunting them down over the last few years and Deacon’s brilliant plan to break in but not to get out.

Nevertheless, Buddy was thankful, even now as he stood by the window of the attic, staring down at the streets below with his breathing heavy and arms shaking. Despite being out of the control of Ex Libris, Buddy couldn't help himself, still having a deep fear rooted within, present within his nightmares. A despair that one day he would wake up and be back in that damned cell, or that he would open his eyes to the figure of Ex Libris looming over him, ready to snatch him and the keys back, to hurt his precious Chase.

Speaking of the devil, footsteps interrupted him from his winding thoughts, just as arms wrapped around him from behind and gave a cheeky but affectionate squeeze. A cheery voice met his ears, pleasant and always managing to calm him.

“What are you doing brooding up here?”

“I’m not brooding”

“Uh huh…~”

Buddy took a deep breath, turning around with his features still shaking. Such a sight caused the owner of the voice, Chase, to stiffen a little, eyes growing clouded with worry as he took his hands. He knew what this was about, It had been like this for the past few weeks and he wasn't an idiot.

“Still worried about them returning, huh..?”

This earned a soft noise and a following nod from Buddy as he sunk his weightless and lanky body into him, giving Chase something akin to a hug, but lacking any arm movement. The blonde’s arms moved up to wrap around his waist to make up for it however, just as his voice hushed down into a barely audible whisper.

“Well… We’re going to head outside together today…We need to get you some clothes. You can do this..”

They both glanced down at the oversized crimson hoodie that Buddy had practically lived in for the past few weeks, A strange phenomenon of never changing out of it unless forced when it needed to be washed or until he was showering, becoming an even stranger cycle as he insisted on staying in his towel until the hoodie had been washed and dried. As cute as the raven looked in it, however, he admitted he needed a change, both of them did. And so, with a moment's hesitation, Buddy nodded to the suggestion of leaving, soon pulling away and moving to slip into some shoes that he had actually borrowed from Deacon.

The two would make their way downstairs passing the keys as they travelled to the door, and Buddy couldn't help but make a note of what was happening with them. See, Chase’s hunt for keys inevitably made its way to Grandad Ralph finding out about their existence. Despite his initial shock, he did allow them to have access to the rest of the house after feeling a little bad that they were stuck in the attic, but only if they agreed not to cause any destruction (which in all honesty, they were quite good at somehow doing the opposite, leaving the rooms cleaner than when they first entered). They made quite a few games with their new found freedom, but they were currently making flower crowns out of origami paper provided by Prunella's mother, yet another person who found out about their existence, even befriending a key herself. 

Buddy made some sort of amused noise as he spotted Violet towards the back of the table, feverishly and methodically making flowers for her sister, Silver. She glanced up after catching sight of him, grinning with her opalesce eyes shining, and soon called him over.

“You're going out?”

“Yeah… I thought it was about time.”

“How brave! What exactly are you doing?”

“I believe getting clothes…”

“That's exciting! Make sure to get yourself something nice! And… oh! Could you get more of these paper things? They're rather fun to play with!”

Buddy nodded, finding it hard to not grin with her infectious excitement. He couldn't deny that ever since Violet had reunited with her siblings under the care of the Hollows, she seemed… So much happier, like the colours in her eyes were brighter and more radiant. It was nice to see such a positive effect. Yet he couldn't dawdle, with Chase watching from the door and unintentionally pressuring him to hurry up. He bid his “See you soons” to her and quickly got to the door.

The next events went by in an overwhelming swirl for the poor raven, all too much as he was pulled out of the house, pestered after meeting up with Deacon and Prunella, and whisked away to the shopping centre. Once there however, he would admit that the seemingly infinite stores were impressive at least, with most of his interest focusing within what Chase described as “Alt shops”. Many of the outfits there reminded him of what Violet was so fond of dressing him in back in their old life… and although such outfits were linked with quite a bit of negativity, he couldn't help but gravitate toward them. Nevertheless, he had managed to collect quite a few things he adored, including but not limited to: band tees, loose jackets, an array of villain themed jumpers and hoodies that he thought Violet might enjoy and boots that he only got because they made him even taller than Chase.

Before he knew it, the trip was over, and the three had made their way through the automatic doors of the shopping centre, leaving to what seemed to be quite the bit of a different environment.

Buddy seemed to stumble, pausing a bit as he exited, finally taking note of the changes around him. The sky had turned a deep orange and the streets were dimly lit by the warm lanterns lining them. But there were so many shadows, things he couldn't quite see.

So… this was night?

Of course, this wasn’t the first time the boy had seen the evening sky, having a tendency to always quietly admire them from the attic window. But to actually be out in it was a completely different story. Every shadow could hold them… he could be dragged in and no one would even know. There were those nerves again from before, causing his fingers to tremble. Deacon and Prunella had seemingly started to walk off, not wanting to get caught with the chill in the air and a little busy talking about a horse top Prunella had forced Deacon to buy.

But Chase paused and lingered beside his frozen friend, approaching quietly and snapping his attention to him as he drew him into a hug. Although the affection wasn't returned immediately, he eventually felt the raven hair tickle his jaw as Buddy began to bury himself into the crook of his neck. They spent a few moments like that before they both pulled away, Buddy's hands slipping to Chase's hips and his own hands resting on the other's chest. Feeling the beating heart under his fingertips, Chase suddenly understood what was happening. But they had come so far! Buddy was enjoying himself up to now, would it have been the best response to point it out? 

That's when Chase had decided, and in not wanting to bring it up and make buddy self conscious after they had come so far, he sweetly smiled before taking a different approach. Taking a brand new striped scarf that Buddy had gotten while out, he took a moment to drape it around both of their shoulders, earning a confused glance from the raven.

“What are you doing?”

Chase let out a giggle

“Just giving you a bit of warmth! You look like you're freezing!”

Buddy took a moment, eyebrows furrowed as some cogs began to turn in his mind. Yet they stopped after a moment, confusion meeting his expression again

“That's not… My shoulders aren't cold..?” 

Chase had to stifle a laugh at the pure adorableness of Buddy not entirely understanding what he was trying to do. He promptly pushed a little further, seeing if that could achieve his goal.

“Then perhaps another part of you is… Your legs, your chest..”

Chase's hands began to glide over his chest area, causing a bob to form in Buddy’s throat. What was that feeling? Like his stomach was flipping and wriggling… it wasn't unpleasant but certainly new. Chase only continued with his suggestions.

“Your face, your ears… maybe even your lips?”

So that was his plan, hoping he could distract him with flirting, strange but not entirely uncredible, that had worked in the past after all.

Buddy went bright red with the suggestion, mind lingering on the lips. He wouldn't deny that he had been wanting to kiss Chase from the moment that he and deacon had saved him. Scratch that, he's wanted to kiss him from the moment he started providing him with food within their book based adventures, ever since he slept in that damn hoodie when Chase first left it behind, way before he was saved. 

For so long now, he had longed to pursue him. But Buddy wasn't entirely sure how to initiate such a relationship, strange since he had seen so many books where the hero kissed the Heroine, so many initiated kisses. But none had ever been the Heroine and the villain... All he could do was try, lips parting as he answered 

“Well… My lips are a little cold… I don't suppose you have a way to warm them up, do you?” 

Chase couldn't help but bite his own lip, looking up with a bit of a starstruck expression, kind of surprised that Buddy was actually entertaining him. He nodded softly, muttering a “Can I?”. Once receiving a nod from Buddy, he took a bit of an anticipating breath before leaning up. This had been the moment that he had waited for, the moment he had… admittedly dreamed more times than he could count.

His eyes closed as he planted a soft kiss upon the others thin and cold lips, pressing into them and receiving a similar motion back. What was meant to be a sweet peck soon would linger, neither boy willing to pull away. Buddy's eyes closed slightly just as drew Chase closer by his waist, a warm and unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest and easing his anxieties and fear. His shaking finally began to stop, and although occupied with what was becoming an admittedly heated kiss, a faint thought crossed his mind. 

Perhaps he was finally safe after all.

[lesbiankimdahyun]

CONTRACT LOVER II

1K words

CW: A/B/O dynamics, G!P

[Implied A!MiSaMo x F!O!Reader] 

MISAMO’s schedule was fast-paced and busy to begin with, but what made it extra challenging was the fact that all three Alphas were presently coming off of their ruts. Their comeback schedule included live performances split between Korea and Japan, but there had been no question that you’d travel with the members to help relieve them. 

When you traveled with TWICE during their last tour, you had been lucky that there was never more than one Alpha member rutting at any given point in time. By contrast, your experience with MISAMO now was borderline grueling because their combined need was so great. Every chance they got this week, they used you. Ferocious quickies before stepping out for a meal, morning facefucking in the shower, and at night, you hardly slept. Each of them had the stamina to fill you up at least once, sometimes twice, before they were sated enough to sleep. You knew all three of the members to be kind, caring and sweet, but as rutting Alphas, you were hardly more than a combination flesh light chew toy to them. Your body was beyond sore, covered in deep purple and blue bruises, bite marks and scratches. 

Now, in the privacy of your hotel room, you and Mina giggled while playing Animal Crossing together. It was an activity the two of you had done before, except this time you were both naked in your bed while playing on your respective Nintendo Switches. Occasionally, Mina’s fingertips would trail absentmindedly over your body, especially near your tummy as a subtle reminder for you both of how she’d bred you just an hour earlier.

Your body ached and you leaned against Mina, receptive to her gentle touch. She nuzzled you lightly, scenting you as well. It wasn’t something she was supposed to do, not when she shared you– sometimes begrudgingly– with Momo and Sana. But without the protective boundary that came with being a mated Omega, greed often clouded their rutting minds when it came to you. 

Just as Mina was about to have you come visit her island to see her new layout, your hotel room door opened. You both startled, turning to see who was there.

“I knew it,” Momo’s voice was icy as she stepped into your room. You backed up a bit, sitting up against the headboard of your bed. “You’ve been keeping her all to yourself this afternoon,” the oldest Alpha said accusingly to Mina. 

“You were the one who wanted to go shop with Sana all day on your day off,” Mina retorted, trying to use her body to block you from view as best she could. “Besides, we’re just relaxing. Y/N needs some rest.” 

Momo huffed. “Rest? Come on, we can practically smell what you did to her from outside.” 

Mina blushed at that. “It was just once,” she said, deflating a bit. 

“That’s perfect actually,” Sana said, breezing into your room behind Momo. “Then she’s all warmed up for us.” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes had no twinkle, no hint of warmth or friendliness. Instead, they wandered over your naked form predatorily, unable to hide her unyielding desire. 

The room quickly started filling with their strong scents, and you found yourself starting to get wet despite the tense energy. 

“I’ll take that, jagi,” Momo said, reaching for your Switch and setting it on the window sill. She then turned to Mina. She leaned in, letting you both get a whiff of her aggressively potent scent. Her voice turned to a growl. “It’s our turn.” 

You held back a whimper, all too familiar by now with what the other Alphas’ turns looked like. Even though every muscle in your body was protesting, the two older Alphas smelled incredible. Your cunt was even wetter now, and Mina’s load threatened to start leaking out of you. 

But Mina clearly didn’t want to share you. Her own scent was becoming a little more potent and she glowered, still not moving. 

Annoyed by Mina’s inaction, Momo’s upper lip curled up intimidatingly, ready to bare her fangs if needed to get her way. “You’re not even fucking her right now Mina, c’mon,” she said, glancing down between her legs. “You know as well as we do how much this hurts. We need her.” 

You followed her gaze down. Sure enough, both Sana and Momo were sporting massive erections beneath their pants. You released a bit of your scent and put your hand lightly on top of Mina’s, trying to bring the room’s escalated energy down a bit. “It’s okay, Minari,” you said softly. “We can play later.”

“Yeah, Minari,” Sana taunted, reaching out with a manicured nail to tap Mina on the nose. “Come back later.” Sana wasn’t normally the type to tease in a cruel way, but her rut could bring out a darker side of her, and it was here now.

Mina’s jaw clenched, but she finally got up, giving you a look you couldn’t quite read before she turned silently to start looking for her clothes. The youngest Alpha was also the most sensitive, and Mina didn’t particularly enjoy tag teaming you with Sana and Momo. You weren’t sure if it was because they usually made her take her turn last or if it was because of how rough Sana and Momo could get, but either way, Mina was gentle, Mina was different– even down to the way she interacted with you outside of sex. Part of you wanted to ask Mina about it, if at least to learn how to make her more comfortable sharing you with the others, but you didn’t dare to. If Sana and Momo didn’t bring it up, you weren’t about to, either. 

“I’m gonna go get something to eat,” Mina said flatly, grabbing the rest of her things now that she was dressed. Her long, jet black hair cascaded over her face, hiding her disgruntled expression from view. “I’ll bring you something,” she said to you.

“Take your time,” Sana said, her eyes never leaving your body. She licked her lips as Mina slid her phone into her pocket. “Don’t hurry back.” 

The tension in your room was thick as Mina looked back at you once more before sulking as she grabbed her own hotel room key and left. 

[rumbelleshowdown]

⭐️

Author: Quorra

Group F: “Don’t you dare!”; one of those nights; panic attack

⭐️

First Steps

When Rumplestiltskin had pictured what he’d do when the curse lifted he had imagined many scenarios, none of which had actually materialised. Instead of the instant, if tense, reunion with Baelfire there was an added complication, and now he was stuck in Storybrooke trying to figure out how to cross the damned town line without losing what he had left of his son: his memories.

And yet, he couldn’t regret the fact that nothing had quite gone according to plan. Because Belle hadn’t been in his plans either. And yet there she had appeared, right after all his carefully-orchestrated plans came to fruition, as if to remind him that he didn’t have absolute control over every outcome and that was okay.

It was easier to focus on the task of coming up with a bit of magic to solve the situation with the town line when he could also bask in the miracle that was Belle. Even pale and malnourished as she was she took his  breath away, the most beautiful woman in all the realms. Beautiful on the inside as on the outside as, miraculously, years of imprisonment had not dimmed her kindness or her spirit.

He had enjoyed it immensely, showing her this new world. She was, as always, bold and curious, eager to learn everything about the world without magic. For weeks after the curse broke they spent most of their time inside his sprawling Queen Anne while Rumplestiltskin taught her everything about washing machines, refrigerators and the more daring fashions of Storybrooke, eager to lavish her with anything and everything she desired. She was brave and took everything in stride. She didn’t back away from any challenge, be it the oven, the hair dryer or his rather luxurious shower, with far too many knobs and levers for her liking. 

But after a few weeks Belle’s enterprising spirit began to pay off, her mind absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He had fallen for a clever lass, so it was to be expected that she would be able to master most aspects of modernity right away. And he was happy, really. He was. Except that he wasn’t. Because the more independent Belle grew the less he was able to spend time with her. No longer could he enjoy making breakfast with her at his side, her eyes riveted to whatever he was doing, asking all manner of questions and rewarding him generously with kisses afterwards. He knew it was selfish, that after so long trapped as she had been he should rejoice in her expanding sense of freedom.

Which is why he had no recourse other than to sulk quietly, hate himself for it and cling to the last few chores Belle had not been able to master and, as a result, he got to do for her. He had thought laundry would stay safely his domain for a few more weeks, given how difficult Belle was finding getting the right settings and properly separating the clothing according to colour and level of delicacy, which is why when he heard the washing machine beep musically to indicate the cycle was finished he volunteered eagerly to shift the clothes to the dryer, getting halfway up from the dinner table before Belle stood up, looking resolute.

“I got it.”

She hurried out of the dining room, unable to see him scowl.

“Are you sure you don’t need help? Let me acc-”

“Don’t you dare! I can do this myself, I promise.”

Five minutes later she was back on her seat, a wide smile on her face, looking exultant. It made his cold, black heart shrivel up inside.

“I did it! The dryer will be finished in half an hour, just after dessert. I’ll onload it, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Wonderful.”

If she caught the sarcasm in his tone she made no mention of it. So gracious, his lady, to a mean old monster who couldn’t even be happy at her accomplishments. Knowing he’d be petty and unreasonable for a while he opted to go down to the basement after dinner, to work on the potion needed to keep his memories past the town line. It was the type of busywork that easily distracted him, allowing him to unwind. Later he’d make it up to Belle somehow, even if he knew she’d never reproach him for being short with her.

He got into the groove of things, preparing and distilling ingredients, checking and correcting instructions, crossing out ideas that did not have the result that he hoped, till a scream broke through his intense concentration. Without even having to think about it, reaching for his magic in an instinctual way that he had yet to regain in this new world, he teleported, willing himself into the bedroom he shared with Belle. The motion unsettled him for the slightest bit, his body still slow to grow accustomed to the immediate displacement. When he recovered he saw Belle, in one of the silk nightgowns he’d procured for her, huddled up in the middle of their bed. Her hands were in her hair and he knew, from previous experience, that she was fighting the urge to yank at it, even though it would be painful. 

“Oh, sweetheart.”

It only took a thought at a sweep of his hands to be clothed in his pajamas so he could climb into the bed and hold her. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to console her, so he knew the routine well. He manoeuvred himself to rest against the pillows, coaxing her to lie down on top of him so he could press her head against his chest. She had told him that the steady sound of his heartbeat was soothing.

Even though he wanted to, he didn't ask any questions. He never did. He simply crooned nonsense at her, holding her as tightly as she would allow, and waited for her to say something. Sometimes she did. Sometimes she described whatever nightmare had gripped her vividly, to the point where he’d have to physically keep himself from teleporting to Regina’s sprawling mansion to rip her black heart from inside her chest and squeeze it in front of her eyes. Only the knowledge that Belle would be hurt if he killed Regina in her name kept the queen alive.

Other times she would not say a word, only huddling as close to him as possible till she stopped shivering and either dozed off or they were chased out of bed by the light of the morning. He would spend the night kissing the crown of her head and murmuring crooning nonsense, bits of modern-world information that might catch her interest and distract her. When minutes passed with her keeping quiet he surmised she was not going to talk, and began to think of a topic to talk about.

“It’s not fair.”

Her voice, thin and reedy as it was, startled him.

“What isn’t, sweetheart?”

Too many things about Belle’s life were unfair, after all.

“I have been doing so well. I thought- I thought the nightmares were over.”

It’s true she hadn’t had a nightmare in a while. Over two weeks if he was remembering correctly. A personal best. 

“Do you know what happened to trigger it?”

“No. I- It was a good day. I was- I was doing alright. Hadn’t thought about the asylum at all. I… I was happy.”

Yes. And he had almost thrown a small fit over it.

“Hush, sweetheart. It doesn’t mean anything. A setback is just that, a setback. It doesn’t negate all the progress you’ve made.”

She nodded, but he knew that, if he let her, she would stew. She would convince herself she had regressed and spiral. She was always so hard on herself. Always pushing her feelings aside, unwilling to give to herself the patience and care she had for others.

“Sometimes I feel like I’ll never be over it. The feeling of still being in that cage.”

He made a flourish with his right hand upwards and, in the blink of an eye, the ceiling disappeared, replaced with the night sky in all its splendour, every twinkling star fully visible the way it wasn’t possible in their modern little town, given the levels of light pollution. Slowly, almost achingly so, Belle turned her head, pushing her hair away from her eyes so she could see. The naked fear etched across her face gave way to curiosity and awe.

“I remember you were reading an astronomy book a few days ago but complained that most constellations were not visible. Fancy a lesson right now?”

She snuggled close to him and he fancied that he could feel her smile bloom against the skin of his shoulder. As a Dark One he had produced magic well beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, and yet he seldom remembered being prouder than he was right then.

“Yes, please.”

[copinghex]

Hell's address is Watery Lane | T.S - part II

Summary: "Once in hell, only the devil can save you"

• You counted three steps: Bratty temper, lowering guard, getting close. Everything had to flow naturally. No one would fall in love so easily in such conditions, both you and Tommy knew. However, with no access to outside, he'd become your world. Three months, you thought it was a good measure. In three months, you'd be free again.

• Most of your time was spent on the bed, you couldn't sleep, so you counted the stripes on the walls, picked your nails, went through his wardrobe (from which he had removed anything useful) and thought of everything you'd say when he visited again. 

• The door unlocked a few hours after the sunrise. Tommy brought another sandwich and tea. He took away the used dishes with a tired look on his face, he also hadn't slept. “How are you today?” He asked, you didn't answer, “You're not gonna talk to me?” 

Your silence seemed to annoy him, just before he left, your plan started. “Are you feeding me sandwiches forever?” 

“...do you intend to stay in this room forever?” He closed the door again.

You knew where he was getting to, if you never reciprocated him, he'd keep you locked. You brought your knees under your chin, he'd get a nice view of your legs that way, you kept staring the plate at the end of the bed, not daring to look the devil in the eyes, “I just want to get a proper meal,” 

“What do you suggest?” 

“Eggs, sausage, bread, don't you know what breakfast is?”

“Oh, I know, but this ain't a teahouse, if you want a five stairs breakfast, earn one.” 

• At night, Tommy brought you dinner (which, as harshly he reacted, wasn't a sandwich). You didn't talk to him, looking out the window instead. He tried to get a reaction mentioning the consequences of trying to jump out, you didn't go along, keeping quiet. The next day, you had more demands to do.

“When will I get a shower? One more day in these clothes and I'll start to scratch like a mangy dog.” You complained. Tommy held back a chuckle not even imagining the humored undertone was purposeful. “I'll get you a change,” 

“I want to shower,” 

You realized you sounded too demanding when Tommy's face closed up. Deep down terrified, you forced your challenging eyes at him. “When you quit the mangy dog attitude, I'll get you a change.” 

• After he left, your eyes went to his wardrobe, he still had some shirts in there. You knew exactly how to fix things. 

Next visit, Tommy was greeted by you sitting on the bed table near the window. Your head rested on the glass, pouting and kicking your legs, you were wearing his shirt and covering your legs with the nightgown. It barely reached your knees. What a delightful view. “Why don't you have a milkman?” 

“...what?” 

• You got him. A nice pair of legs broke down any man. 

“I waited all morning to see him, no one came,” you looked at him with the most innocent gaze you could fake.

“Taxi drivers don't come either,” he locked the door and walked closer, “everyone avoids Small Heath,” 

“Hm,” you nodded and looked away again.

Tommy sighed, sitting on the bed and lighting up a cigarette. “Y/N, I’m not doing this to hurt you.” You didn’t answer. “Look at me,” Tommy insisted, that time you obeyed, “I want what’s best for us, if I can’t trust you, I can’t take you out of here.” You looked down, rubbing your feet together and sucking your bottom lip. Tommy gave up, getting up to leave. “And what do I have to do?” You suddenly asked. “I don’t know, love.”

• He paid you an extra visit in the evening, bringing a plate of biscuits. You ate in front of him, going through the innocent act. Must’ve worked, because he asked, “How exactly do you plan to shower? I can’t leave you alone,”

“Wait by the bathroom’s door, anyway, how far could I go naked and covered in soap?”

“Tonight then,” he agreed, “if you try anything-”

“I won’t.”

• Tommy left soap, shampoo, and rose-scented cold cream and hair oil at your disposal. He must like his woman smelling like roses, you thought. You washed your skin a little more harshly than you should, the whole situation made you feel dirty and often you imagined what it’d have been like if you had taken the opportunity at the factory. It was all gone then. You had to focus on Tommy and how to use him to get out of that house.

• Outside, Tommy sat in front of the bathroom’s door with a cigarette between his lips, he imagined your naked body covered in soap, so soft, so delicate, deprived of any defects, or at least by his sick mind’s standards.  He couldn’t wait until you'd let him touch you again, like in the night you embraced, you clung to him like a child, upset and in need of care. That was all he wanted to offer you, you were blind if you didn’t see.

• Being a man on the run, his take-caring skills weren’t the best. Besides the hygiene products, Tommy didn’t leave you an extra towel for your soaked hair or any clothes to put on. Your blood boiled as you guessed it could’ve been on purpose, all for another peek. Turning off the water, you wrapped yourself in the towel and looked out the tiny window, you didn’t have time to make up any ideas since as soon as Tommy heard the shower off, he got in. 

• At his sudden presence, you gasped and tried to cover yourself the best you could, the towel was too small to properly cover both your breasts and ass. Underneath the shame and anger, you knew it was best to lure Tommy, let him see you, crave you, only then you’d break him down. His staring wasn’t discreet, his eyes went up and down your body, filling up with something you wouldn’t say was lust, seemed to be yearn, purer than carnal desire. “C-can we go?” you asked.

• He led you back to the bedroom, in the bed there was a comb, underwear, a red dress and cologne. Fucking ridiculous, he was playing doll with you. You turned around, catching him dripping over your backside, “Hm, will you excuse me?”

• With him out, you did your best to look beautiful as an angel, the fallen one who’d take him down. Once you were done, you called for him, he didn’t answer, you tried the door’s handle, he had locked you in again. Not trusting him, you sat down and waited. Tommy came back a few minutes later with your dinner. The food looked good, something he probably bought from a restaurant. 

Tommy handed you the plate, staring at you, was he waiting for you to talk? Should you thank him? You kept looking down, pouting, waiting for him to go away again. As he turned around to leave, you called, “Tommy?” 

“Yeah?” there was an ounce of hope in his voice.

“Can I… hm, get a book or something?” 

“A book?” 

“Yes, otherwise I'll die of boredom here,” you explained.

“A book it is.”

• He left. The second part of the plan started.

• You had read Wuthering Heights a thousand times before. It wasn't the type of book you thought Tommy would bring, but it helped nevertheless. The days went by, he brought food and let you shower two or three times a week. He also didn't make any further moves, which worried you.

“Heathcliff and Catherine's love always fascinated me,” you told him in one of his short visits.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I didn't see it at first, it seemed too much like infatuation to me, I had never seen a love like this.” Tommy was leaning on the door while you sat at the corner of the bed, his gaze switched between you and the floor, “Tommy?” 

“Hm?” 

“You never talk to me,” you accused, “how can we ever live like this?”

“What do you mean, love?” 

“You said you wanted this to work, it won't if you don't talk to me,” 

“...you're right.” although he agreed, he kept silent for most of the time.

• Next, Tommy brought you three books from Sherlock's collection. While you were in bed, he sat near the window and confessed, “I don't know what to talk to you,” 

“You used to do,” 

“And it didn't work, look where we are now,” 

You gulped, Tommy sounded very aware of his actions, it was hard to play a game with someone so unpredictable, “You can talk about anything, I liked to talk to you, I thought we were friends,”

“I am your friend,” his tone got lower, there was a hidden threat in his words, as if he was only offering you kindness and you were the one rejecting it.

“How was the betting shop today?” you changed the subject. There was no point arguing with such disturbed mind.

• Another week went by. To your surprise, Tommy was easy to catch in a conversation, he told you harmless stories of his teenage days and attentively listened to yours. You talked about art and you found out he wasn't really into it. Beneath layers of violence, arrogance and ambition, beat the heart of a simple man, Tommy was a man to enjoy the simpler parts of life, the nature, animals, family, everything with a touch of richness he was willing to do anything for.

• You were hesitant to make a fourth request, besides the food, the occasional showers and the books, you wished to go outside. Two great possibilities came with it: If you had the chance, you’d run and scream for help, otherwise, you'd show him you'd never get away, it'd make him trust you.

“And my mum hit me with a fucking frying pan!” he told you, his eyes shone with the excitement of a flirty teenager.

“A pan?! Jesus, at least it wasn't hot, was it? She wasn't using it,” you laughed.

“No, she wasn't using it,” he finished with a smirk. Silence fell on, you guaranteed that was the longest conversation you ever had, Tommy was in his best mood, it couldn't go wrong.

“Hm, Tommy…” you started, “can I ask you something?” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you take me outside?” his face fell, so you were quick to explain, “Like when I shower, I'm in this room for so long! I just want to see the night, feel the breeze!” 

Tommy was hesitant, forcing you to use your best puppy eyes facade, he put his cigarette down on the window’s frame. “Y/N-”

“I know, Tommy,” you interrupted, “I won’t try anything, I swear.”

• He looked at you, the gears working within his head, with a last squint, Tommy agreed. His hand wrapped tightly around your arm. He unlocked the door. Everything felt painfully slow, or perhaps your mind was going too fast, to be honest, you were nervous, outside could be dangerous, it was on the outside you encountered men like Tommy. 

• To your disappointment, he led you to the back of the house, some shirts hung on the clothesline, trembling with the wind, the stars were barely visible, for Small Heath was an industrial town and the only people profiting from that were the factories’ owners. Tommy planned to become one someday, the thought put a smile on your face without you even realizing.

• While you looked to the sky, he looked at you, if you were happy, he was too. Perhaps you weren't as untrustworthy as he imagined. His hand left your arm to brush some rebellious hair locks behind your ear. His fingertips were rough, nice to have on your skin. You turned to him, he kept tracing your face, your eyebrows, nose and lips. Sighing, you closed your eyes, your lips parted in receptive manner, Tommy’s eyes blew out at your sudden invitation. Finally, you finally gave in. 

• He cupped your jaw and stepped closer, his lips were soft, moving gently against yours. Resting your hands on his strong chest, you weren’t able to hold the tiny moans leaving your lungs. Despite the circumstances, you were never treated like that, as if Tommy could put all his sketch of love in a single kiss.

• When he tried to use his tongue, you stepped away, it wasn’t part of the plan, you weren’t ready to go so far. The look in his eyes mirrored a lost boy, a spoiled one not used to not getting what he wanted. You were sure a man like him wasn’t rejected often. Tommy grabbed your waist in an attempt to keep you close, you pushed away, lowering your head, “I think I want to go back inside.” 

• Awkwardly touching his neck, Tommy took you back, the possibility of trying to escape ran through your head, but there was no one in the streets to help you. If Tommy caught you, all your progress was lost. There was only one way out, to get him vulnerable, you knew exactly how.

Back in the bedroom, you shrugged off, “Thanks for taking me out,”

“Good night, Y/N.” he left.

• The next evening, you asked him to go outside again, which he denied, “I’ve work today, I just came to check on you,”

“What work?”

“Business, things weren’t part of,”

“Well, take care then, if something happens to you, who’s going to feed me?” 

• Tommy chuckled, patted your head and left you with an extra pack of biscuits. 

• The worry built in your chest was unfamiliar, a betrayal of all you were fighting for until now, but by then, Tommy would’ve visited you at least four times. You were hungry, worried and exhausted. What would it be of you if he was gone? Did anyone know about you but him? You peeked through the keyhole. Nothing. The house was quiet. The shop was closed. Not a single soul walked in the streets. You didn’t feel alone in the house, you felt alone in the world. With no other option, you went to bed, curling up in a ball of despair, if Tommy was here it wouldn’t be so scary, it was your last thought before exhaustion claimed you. 

• The sound of the door unlocking woke you up, it was still dark, Tommy got in with bandages in his knuckles and hair wet. He had just had a shower. “Tommy,” you gasped. 

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was waiting- I was…worried, where have you been?”

“So this is how it’s going to be, eh? You tracking my every step,”

“...I was worried.” you concluded.

“Me too, thought you’d be sleeping so I didn’t bring food, I will-”

“Don’t do this again,” you demanded. 

“What?”

“Disappearing, you could’ve told this business would take a while,”

• His shoulders fell, the confused look in his face didn’t go unnoticed, that was the perfect moment. Slowly, you got close, wrapping him in a hug he was a bit too excited to get, he held you firmly against him, not letting go until you did. Then, a little shyly, you pressed your lips together, Tommy immediately relaxed, savoring the taste he so much loved.

• His hands worked in locking you close to him, your chests stuck together while his other hand supported your neck. The tightness forming in your stomach made you tense, it was meant to be all an act, but you craved his touch. Tommy guided you to bed, caging you under his body. “Tommy, I’m not very experienced in this,” you said.

• Tommy caressed your cheek, the most delicate, perfect thing he ever touched, “It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.”

• He did. Your mind couldn’t make up any escaping plans through the orgasms he worked out of you. You finished the night trembling and sweaty, cuddled up in his arms. Your hand moved on its own to caress his chest, as if you were a normal couple. You fell asleep before him, the best sleep you had since he locked you in.

• The sunrays lit up the door in the morning. It was the first thing you saw, the passage to freedom. Tommy was still asleep, chest moving in the pace of his breath, You lifted your head, he looked happy, relaxed, vulnerable. The door was unlocked, only a few steps and you could start again, free yourself from the devil sleeping under you. However, your body didn’t move as precisely as you planned. It was your last chance, the world outside would never be as safe as the warmth of Tommy’s arms, all you wanted was:

FREEDOM   TOMMY

[panpanghost]

Part 9 of this au (I think 'Corrupted king' is nice, I've thought about other names but I like this one most.)

Macaque fallowed Wukong, keeping a few steps between them, looking around and studying this palace, searching for the exit. They went up the stairs then to the end of the hall.

Maybe I can try something in the shower- DUMMASS!!! That's Macaque you're thinking about! He'd punsh me if he didn't want to but that's him with powers, so if he didn't want it now, he'll just take with a smile because he thinks I'll kill him then he will never forgive me. So staying neutral is the best thing to do in his condition... Until he falls in love with me again.

Wukong opened the doors, and Macaque could see a swimming pool with hot water falling in it from a hole on the side walls shaped like a lion's face. With a huge glass wall in front to show the beautiful scenery outside.

This place is really nice. My only problem is the king. It's good that it's big, I can keep a distance between us. But... it's like I've been here before.

Macaque was looking around the place, but then he looked back at the king to find him already undressed and staring at him.

Shitshitshitshitshit! I almost forgot about him! That took me completely off guard.

_"Are you ok?" the king asked,

_"I'm fine, go ahead first, I'll undress and go after." Macaque smiled. He won't ask me to serve him, right?

_"It's ok, I'll wait for you... Do you need a hand?"

_"NOPE- I got this." Is he going to watch me all the time?!

Macaque took off the rest of his clothes feeling his heart beating faster and faster, his cheeks burning as the king never took his eyes off him.

Does he need to watch so closely? It's not like I'm going anywhere.

As Macaque finished he glanced at the king, who was looking at him puzzled, like he was trying to read Macaque and the more he read him the more puzzled he got.

This is embarrassing, can he please stop staring.

Then it looked like a light bulb lit in the king's head, he gave Macaque a smile then ran to the water and jumped high yelling, "Cannonball!"

He made a splash as he hit the water.

The Macaque froze for a second then smiled, almost wanted to laugh, what a silly guy.

It worked! He doesn't look so stressed now. I knew it! Acting like myself is the best choice.

_"Try and beat that!" Wukong challenged,

Macaque was shocked for a second, then smiled, he ain't backing off a challenge. Even without powers, he ran to the edge of the pool, jumped high, did a few turns like a professional diver then hit the water gracefully.

Macaque got his head out the water and gave Wukong a smug look,

_"Mine had more splash in it so we'll call it even."

_"Yeh. Sure." Macaque said, still smug. He knows he won. Then it hit him again-

Why did I do that?! He could've felt offended! Damn it! I really need to be more careful. My head could go flying any second now.

Wukong turned and swam to the edge of the pool, then sat on one of the big stairs underwater so only his head was out, he put it back on the edge and relaxed.

Macaque swam to the same edge but kept a distance between them. Sure the king didn't seem mad but it doesn't mean he can relax just yet.

Macaque sat there for a second thinking, then he got colser to the king, almost close enough for Wukong to reach him.

Wukong glanced at him but didn't move, he knows Macaque is more like a cat, he needs to let him get closer on his own or else he'll scratch and bite.

Macaque started grooming his hands.

What the- Not a single entanglement, my furr isn't as silky and thick and I guess that's because I'm sick, but it's clearly well taken care of, my furr's been groomed, maybe yesterday, but I was out for a couple days...

Macaque glanced at the king who looked like he was having a hard time with his own furr.

Was it him? Was he taking care of me while I was out? But he's a king, he could've told someone else to do it, still... I haven't seen another person since I woke up. I can hear others outside but no one in the palace.

_"Doesn't seem like this'll take long." Macaque broke the silence, hinting at the question in his head,

_"Well I've washed you two days ago when you were out, but didn't do it after because I was afraid you'd get a cold. B- But, you know- I'm not saying you're weak, I'm- It's just in this condition it's better not to tempt fate. But don't worry I know how much you love your furr so I groomed all of it and made sure it's good as new." Wukong answered without looking at his moon, still struggling with his own furr.

_"That's.. a lot of work for a king..." that didn't come out as rude, right?

_"We can't help it. You can't use your glamour for now, so I ordered everyone to stay outside. I know how much you hate others seeing your ears. Don't know why though, I think they're cute. But, you know, I respect your decision."

_"Thanks..." Macaque said, glancing back at the king.

Damn it... Every time he opens his mouth, I feel butterflies in my stomach. Stop that! ... So no one's been taking care of him because of me... He must've been having a hard time...

"Come here. I think it's my turn." Macaque said, turning to face the king.

What am I doing?

_"O-oh!" Wukong understood, "Well, it's been your turn for the past two times, but I'll take what I can get." he joked moving closer to his moon.

YES YES YES!

Fluffy...

Macaque started his work and the king relaxed to the touch, his tail swishing happily next to him.

_"Your- Wukong."

_"Yes peaches?"

_"Umm, my eye, is it yours?"

_"Nope, it's yours now."

_"I meant did you give it to me?"

_"Yeh, but don't worry about it. I can regenerate."

_"That's not- Just because you regenerate doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, so thank you, don't know many kings who'd do that."

It's him, it's still him, that's my moon, but...

_"Weeeelll. If you insist on thanking me. Can you stop that?"

_"I'm sorry, stop what exactly?"

_"THAT!" Wukong turned, "Exactly that."

_"What?" Macaque was confused and a little scared,

_"Being so- so.. so, respectful!"

_"You are upset because I'm being respectful?"

_"Yes! It's like you're walking on eggshells around me and it's driving me nuts!"

_"I'm.. sorry?"

_"Noooooo, ugh! See what I'm talking about?! You wouldn't apologise, you'd say 'deal with it, sweetheart' or-or 'Wukong you smell like shit, get your ass in the water' or 'Wake up, I'm hungry' then you'd kick me out of bed to get you something to eat."

_"I said that?" past me I'm gonna kill you!

_"Yes. You did. You'd even say worse but that's not the point."

_"I- I.. Ummm.. I'm sorry, I don't, I-"

_"AAAAGH!" Wukong let out then dived under water, yelling and swearing but all it came was bubbles on the surface.

What is happening right now? Is he telling the truth? He might be. But there's this feeling like he's hiding something. I want to leave but I'm scared. I can't survive on my own, I need his protection, but am I safe with him? I feel trapped. I want to get out! I want my powers back! I want my memories back! GET THIS FUCKING CROWN OFF OF ME!

"aaah... Sorry about that- Macaque?" Wukong got out of the water only to see his moon pulling the crown forcefully, he was pulling hard with all he got,

"Macaque stop, you'll hurt yourself." Wukong said anxiously,

_"Get this thing off of me!" Macaque yelled as he kept pulling, and before he knew it, his tears started falling, his vision blurry and his heart pounding faster, "Get it off of me! Get it off!" Macaque was pulling too hard his claws started ripping his skin, blood falling on his face and dripping into the water,

_"Macaque stop!" Wukong grabbed his hands and forcefully pulled them away, he put them down and hugged him,

_"Let go of me! let go!" Macaque tried to pull away, scratching the other, his claws did little to nothing but that didn't stop him.

Just how weak is he?

_"It's ok. You're ok. I've got you." Wukong whispered into Macaque's ears while stroking his head.

It took a few minutes before Macaque finally calmed down.

I didn't know it'll get to this, I should break the curse and remove the crown. But he'll leave forever. No, no, he wouldn't. He will, he did it before and he'll do it again. It doesn't matter, he's hurting himself. And he'll get himself killed out on his own. You'll find his corpse abodened in the middle of nowhere. He'll die before asking for your help. Is that what you want? To wait all alone until you hear he died because you took off the crown? Because you didn't want to take care of him anymore? Because you got bored of him? No! nononononononononono, what was I thinking?! I can't take off the crown, I have to protect him! Yes. He'll only be safe here, with me. I'll protect you my love, my king.

_"Are you feeling better?" Wukong asked, still hugging/tieing his moon,

_"I don't know..." Macaque muttered, his voice hoarse from all the crying and screaming.

_"Can I clean you up so we could get out of here?"

_"I don't know..."

_"I'm gonna let go now, ok?"

_"mm.."

Wukong let go slowly, looking down at his moon's face, it was painted red with his blood, the sight made his heart beat shards of broken glass into his chest, it was too painful for him.

He looks exhausted...

Wukong started to carefully clean the other's face, he'd already healed him when he was hugging him, but he couldn't help but be gentle.

_"There you are." Wukong said softly as he finished cleaning, holding his love's face in his hands.

Macaque didn't answer, his face blank. Wukong has never seen him like this.

Why? Why does he look so.. broken... I can't see him like this, I have to do something. Think Wukong, think! What would make him happy?

... shit.

"Let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but personally, I'm starving." Wukong spoke cheerfully as he held Macaque up in his arms.

Macaque didn't react, the same blank look on his face, it's like he gave up.

Wukong tried to stay optimistic, he dried himself and Macaque then brushed his love's furr, it was a bummer he didn't get to use all the creams he bought him, but he can do that another time.

He then held Macaque up all the way back to the bedroom. He gave him new clothes, a black hoodie with red marks and cat ears on it and some black sweatpants, Macaque put them on and it messed his hair, still he kept quiet.

Adorable! No! He's depressed, I should cheer him up not think he's cute! Well he's always cute- Damn it! Focus Wukong! Calm down you stupid heart! I'll carry him to the kitchen, he likes being carried around, I don't even think he wants to move. The little ones should be done with our breakfast, so the kitchen should be empty by now.

_"Alright, up you go." Wukong smiled as he held Macaque up once again in his arms,

Macaque didn't react, he just wants this to be over already.

Wukong took him to the kitchen and sat him at the table. The monkeys did finish their job and leave. Good job guys.

The king filled a plate with pancakes and honey and a few grapes, the way Macaque likes it, then he took a few plums, bananas and mangoes and placed them in another plate and put it closer to Macaque.

_"Is there anything else you want?" Wukong asked sitting next to him, it looked like he was about to feed him himself,

_"No, I-" Whatever, I'm dead anyway. "I want to leave."

_"I'm sorry moon, but it's dangerous for you to go out now." When the king finished his sentence, his moon looked even more depressed.

No no no no! I hate this!

"Buuuuuuuut," Wukong said with a big grin, "It's not dangerous for someone to drop by." Macaque looked at him confused,

"How about I call Princess Iron Fan and invite her over? Would that make you happy?" I'll kill her if she tries to take him away.

Macaque finally lit up.

I can see my sister? I last saw her a few weeks ago before I went on with my travels. She can help me!

_"She's coming?!" he missed her, and the fact that the king knows about her means Macaque told him himself, which means he wasn't lying!

_"Maybe, I mean I'm not sure if she has time with her kingdom, and son and husband-"

_"SHE HAS A SON?! AND SHE'S MARRIED?!"

_"Yeh! Her son is Redson, and her husband is Demon Bull King, you've met them before, don't worry. I'm sure she'll come when she knows you're.. umm... cursed."

_"Wow. What else don't I remember?" Macaque sat straight with his head high,

_"Start eating and I'll try my best to tell you. Also a little side note, your sister hates me."

_"She hates all my suitors."

_"WHAT?!" What suitors?! Who dares!!? I'll kill them!

Shit- I guess I never told him about that.

Macaque started eating, shoving pieces of pancakes in his mouth,

_"You know when you hear suitors with an S you'd think there are many, but it's not actually." That's a lie. I could've built an army with them. If I had a golden coin for every proposal, oof!

_"How many? Who are they?" They are dead to even think about taking my Macaque!

_"Awwwyou know, it's not like they proposed because they loved me, most of them just wanted me for my powers and all." This should calm him down, right?

_"Most? What about the rest?"

Damn it!

_"Well, not to brag but I am good looking, at least I used to be."

_"YOU ARE FUCKING GORGEOUS AND SMOKING HOT! Also I want names." I WILL SKIN THEM ALIVE!! HOW DARE THEY?!!

_"Wha- e- hehe- shit," Macaque covered his mouth and couldn't help but blush holding his growing smile, he took a deep breath to calm down then talked again: "They are most likely dead by now. Forget about them."

_"I need to make sure." I'll teach them what happens when they try to take what's mine!

As he heard it Macaque laughed. What kind of mate did I choose?

_"It's ok, I don't think about them, actually I don't even remember their names." Macaque looked at the king, who clearly wasn't satisfied with the answer, then smiled softly, "I'm just glad I made the right choice in the end."

Macaque meant these words, he found someone who'd do anything for him, he gave up his eye, his house, his subjects, maybe more and asked nothing in return, he just wants to see Macaque happy, and that's all he ever wanted, someone to be happy with.

_"Oh.." Wukong felt his face burning red, he couldn't stop it, how could he? His love chose him and him alone of who knows how many others. It healed something in him. He loves me.

"I'm lucky you did." Wukong felt his body relax, like he's flying yet somehow tied up to his heart, he could never explain how he felt being with Macaque. He'd give everything he has just to hear his moon say I love you again, just once, just to know, to know what he's doing isn't wrong, that it's worth it, that he's forgiven.

There was a moment of silence where they just looked into each other's eyes, simply happy to be there.

What was that???!!! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!! At this rate I'm the one who's gonna do something to him.

_"Ehem- At this rate we'll never be done with our breakfast." Macaque joked, turning back to his plate, his face still a little red.

_"Oh right!" Wukong snapped back to reality and grabbed a plum to eat, "We better finish this if we wanna- WAIT-"

_"What?! What is it?!" Macaque asked surprised,

_"You don't know what musicals are!" Wukong was basically about to blow from excitement,

_"By the name I guess it contains music?"

_"OOOOHOHOHOOO! This is gonna be great!!"

_"... o-ok?" Macaque smiled nervously. What did I get myself into?

part 10

(Many of you will hate me after the ending, I just know it.

I'm not a 100% sure that's the ending I want though... We'll see what happens.)

[changingplumbob]

With the pancakes cooked the pair sat down to breakfast.

Silver: Did you sleep well

Glenn: Yeah I did actually. Is that like an old person thing to ask

Silver: I'm not that old

Glenn: You won't tell me your age so in my brain that translates to old

Silver: *chuckling* I'm trying to be mysterious. So you're really okay from the whole bachelor challenge now? You're not just pretending

Glenn: I thought it wasn't good practice to discuss ex's with someone attractive that you can imagine developing feelings for

Silver: You only imagine? I must be doing something wrong

Glenn: No! You're not- I mean... your brother was the first time I properly fell in love so it was a big thing to get over but- I don't want you to think I'm pining for him when I'm not so that's why I'm trying not to mention him

Silver: Good. Because I do like you Glenn. I don't really have any flowery prose to say it in but being around you feels...

Glenn: Amazing? Mind blowing? Like you want to both listen to me prattle on and kiss my mouth to make me shut up?

Silver: I was going to say comforting but sure, let's go with those

Glenn looked down at his plate and felt warm inside. He didn't want Silver to leave tomorrow, but he had to remind himself Silver was still here for now. He was attracted to Silver but saying plainly what his feelings were... he had no experience with that. Relationships were still foreign to him after so much of his life was spent keeping people at arms distance.

Silver: So what do you want to do today then

Stay sitting here talking. Get lost in your eyes. Finally get a glimpse of the abs you claim to have.

Glenn: Well the weathers nice so a run could be good. Then maybe some fishing

Silver: Oh I love fishing! That sounds like a good plan

Glenn: Got any tips you could give me? My fishing skill is still rather low

Silver: I guess you'll just have to wait and see

Glenn: Ah, do you want a proper shower? I need to get changed but I can wait-

Silver: As much as I enjoy your abs I'll let you get changed first. I may have been living outside for decades but I can still be a gentleman

Glenn got changed quickly and left Silver to do what he needed. Trying not to think about what Silver looked like undressed under hot water he headed back downstairs and got startled seeing a visitor at the door.

Glenn: Ophelia! Why didn't you knock

Ophelia: Oh I saw you letting me in so I knew I didn't need to knock for it to happen

Glenn: Right. Well uh... this isn't really a good time for visitors

Ophelia: *quietly* Because of Silver

Glenn: What? How did you know about him? I put extra shields over the house

Ophelia: Ah Glenn... I see the future remember?

Glenn: So... you've seen him sticking around? Staying?

Ophelia: Not exactly. Can I come in?

Glenn let her inside and was filled with an undefinable nervousness.

Ophelia: You know I can't tell you exactly what I see

Glenn: *sighs* Because it's like cheating

Ophelia: You remembered! I wish Drusilla would remember, and Carmine, and-

Glenn: Ophelia?

Ophelia: Hmm? Oh yes, point. Well I've seen enough to know what his name is and that he's here at the moment

Glenn: He told me he's not the best at meeting new people

Ophelia: Oh I don't meet him now, just talk to you. But it's tricky. So I'm telling you this stuff as your friend okay? Not as a fortune

Glenn: Now you're making me nervous

Ophelia: Everyone heals at different speeds from different hurts and running can be a survival method. It doesn't mean someone doesn't care about what they're running from. And just because someone runs doesn't mean they don't want to come back, okay? Sometimes we need to meet people on their terms. Can you get the door for Miranda?

Glenn: *confused* Can I get the door for Miranda?

Ophelia: Yes she'll be here in ten seconds. Nine, eight...

Glenn got up and sure enough when he got to the door he opened it in time to let Miranda and a box in.

Ophelia: You finished it

Miranda: Considering you saw it finished before I did I think it's odd you need to ask

Ophelia: *shrugs* I am odd

Glenn: Is the box for me

Miranda: Yes

Ophelia: No

Miranda: So you wanted me to make it to give to Glenn but it's not for Glenn

Ophelia: Don't worry, he knows who to give it to

Glenn opened the given box. Inside was a cellphone.

Glenn: I already have a phone

Ophelia: That's why it's not for you. Miranda say the stuff you're going to say

Miranda: Ah, right. Well I combined the latest technology and a little bit of magic in this baby. Basically it has satellite reception capabilities combined with magic stability. So wherever the person who has the phone is, they'll always have signal and be able to call and text

Glenn: Reception, anywhere?

Miranda: Mmhmm. Whether they're on a glacier, or deep in a cave, or smack bang in the middle of a forest. This phone will get a signal, the person will be reachable, as per Ophelia's request

Glenn was in shock. He didn't even know if Silver knew what a phone was but... it was so much better than relying on snail mail when he left. Which from this gift it seemed like he would be doing as planned tomorrow. Ophelia got up and pulled him in to a big hug.

Ophelia: Stay strong Glenn

Glenn: Thanks Ophelia

Ophelia: Come on Miranda. Glenn is busy now

Miranda: He's literally just standing in his living room but whatever floats your boat. Later Glenn

Glenn waved them off and steeled himself to go upstairs and talk to Silver.

Previous ... Next

[aayakashii]

Hello! I see you're familiar with both Twisted Wonderland and Tokyo Debunker. May I humbly ask for some headcanons for the Vagastrom boys + Kaito and Luca with a reader that's basically Jack Howl?

Sorry for taking a little while to answer!! But yes of course!!! Some of the headcanons are a bit longer than others, and I'm truly sorry for that ㅠㅡㅠ some of them were just easier to write about dkfhdkdj anyways!!

Vagastrom boys + Kaito and Luca with a reader that's like Jack Howl

Alan Mido

He was absolutely flabbergasted and speechless when he realized how strong you are, after you offered your help in the garage.

At first, he wasn't going to let you help him at all – what if you got hurt?

But after seeing you effortlessly lift a whole tire and bring it to him, his resolve faltered.

You kept insisting you wanted to help him, your face beet red while you tried to explain that it wasn't because you were worried about his health...

Not at all!!

You were just bored and had nothing to do, so why not lend a hand, right? Right??

Sure...

He let out a quiet laugh and patted your head, then asked you to bring him a few tools.

And he surely wasn't going to comment on how your face lit up when he finally accepted your help.

Haizono Sho

It was, probably, 5am.

Sho decided to start pre-preparing a few of the things he needed for his food truck since it was actually very successful!

He worked alone and wanted to keep it that way, but it was almost becoming too overwhelming.

It was after he finished washing and drying all his kitchen tools that he heard the sound of steps coming towards his truck's way.

He looked at the clock: 5:30 AM. Who the hell was awake so early?

He peeked outside and was met with your flushed face as you were jogging fast and waving.

Sho quirked an eyebrow and wondered why the hell were you RUNNING so early in the morning...

And apparently, you were running for a while too, sweat dripping heavily from your face.

He was dumbfounded when you told him that you have a habit of running super early in the morning every day.

You happily offered to assist him with his kitchen, and, in normal conditions, Sho would eagerly accept your help.

You were the one who convinced him to go for his business after all!

At that moment, he had to turn you down though...

Please go take a shower first, and then you can help.

All that sweat could be a health hazard!

Kurosagi Leo

Leo was dragging you to an arcade.

He had the brilliant idea of an arcade date livestream, and he was still using you as his fake s/o, so...

The live comments were eating it up, calling you two adorable, asking you two to go to this or that attraction.

One of the comments caught Leo's eyes, though.

Someone asked him to test his strength against yours.

Leo smirked, knowing all too well that his ghoul strength could probably wipe you out.

But he accepted the "challenge" anyway.

He decided to hold back a lot in order to avoid humiliating you too much.

Just a little bit was enough.

To his surprise, though, as soon as you positioned yourself to punch, you hit the bag with a loud BANG!

His eyes widened as he saw the numbers on the game's screen go up, the people surrounding you two whispering wows and stopping to look at your score as well.

To Leo's despair, you got a score bigger than his.

You turned towards him, smiling victoriously even though you knew he had held back.

Leo's eyes twitched in extreme annoyance as he saw the live comments saying you were his top and that he was your fragile princess...

Next time, he wasn't going to hold back!

Fuji Kaito

He was absolutely distraught.

How was he going to be your knight in shining armor then?? You were probably stronger than him!!

Please don't try to pretend you aren't stronger, it just stings a lot more...

His pride is absolutely shattered, not gonna lie.

But at the same time, he was totally excited after he saw you lunge at a Frostheim student who was talking smack about him behind his back.

Chaos ensued, and Tohma had to intervene, sternly scolding you and Kaito as well.

He didn't even try to stop you, after all. He had the responsibility to do so! He's a ghoul!!

Tohma's scolding went into an ear and out of the other though.

Kaito stared at you, your frown, and the way you rubbed the back of your head in embarrassment, looking extremely endearing to him.

He was suddenly getting very comfortable with the idea of being protected by you instead.

Lucas Errant

Kaito was distraight, now Luca? He's 100% excited.

You must be so disciplined to be so strong! He needs to know your routine! How about you two train together from now on? (Kaito vetoes the idea)

No, wait: what about you two spar?!

Poor Luca was so excited by the idea that he forgot he is still a lot stronger than you since he's a ghoul...

You sheepishly told him that that isn't the best idea, but that you'd be up for jogging with him or keeping him company in the college's gym.

His favorite pastime became going out to eat some hearty meal with you after you two train hard together.

He thinks you'll be an invaluable person to help him with everything from now on (including his personal mission, maybe...)

If you two were already attached to the hip (alongside Kaito), be ready to see him a lot more from now on!

[kinardsevan]

30 day fluff prompt challenge: (welcome to) day four

"messing around in IKEA"

“Look, I just wanted the meatballs, we don’t actually have to stay.” 

Evan turns on his heel towards Tommy as they pass through a bedroom setup into a kitchen display.

“Last I checked, you said the walls are still pretty bare,” he replies. “And we still need to find an option for the kitchen cabinets.” 

Tommy chuckles at him, shakes his head. He’d been secretly putting this trip off for over two weeks because he knew that his husband would want to look at everything. As it was, between the two of them and their interest in building things with their hands, it was fairly unlikely that being in IKEA would do much more than just give them ideas on the build-out they were going to ultimately do themselves in their new house. 

“Babe,” Evan drawls, practically frothing at the mouth as he comes to stand in front of a cooktop. “It’s induction.” 

Tommy leans over, looking at the price tag attached to the appliance. “It’s also thirteen hundred dollars.” 

Evan glances over his shoulder at him, a smirk playing on his lips. “I could make that up in a month’s worth of cooking for our friends.” 

Tommy chuckles again, eyeing up the appliance a bit more. One thing he’s already planned to have extra spending money for is the cooking appliances for their kitchen. He’d never hold his husband back from being his best chef, especially when Tommy gets to reap the benefits. 

“So are we going to look at cabinets or not,” Tommy asks him after a beat. He draws his gaze away from the induction cooktop, expecting Evan to still be in front of him, only to find him standing in the next room over. It’s a bedroom set-up with a nursery tucked off to the side, and the way Evan is running his fingers over the side of the crib makes something in Tommy cause his heart to skip a beat. 

They’ve had a rough go of it lately. They’d had an easy time getting a surrogate—Kameron and Connor had been down to help without so much as a second thought, especially given how often they reminded Evan that they were grateful for their son. However, after trying to go the easy route of at-home insemination, they’d swung for IVF, which hadn’t been cheap for them either. 

They’d also been through three miscarriages. Two had taken place in the early weeks, one before there was even a measureable heartbeat. But the last one had been during the fourth month. They’d already started picking names, and Maddie had been starting the plans for a baby shower. Getting that phone call from Kameron had absolutely wrecked them. After that, Kameron had politely asked them if she could bow out, and neither of them held it against her for needing to. Those losses had been trauma for all four of them—Connor included. 

Initially, Tommy dismissed it to himself as bad DNA. Both he and Evan had contributed to the cause but made it clear to their doctor that they weren’t interested in knowing who the biological father was. He had assumed after the first loss that maybe it was his fault, given that Evan and Kameron had already produced a healthy pregnancy and a live birth. But then the second one happened, and he felt inclined to ask, at which point their doctor had confirmed that both men’s donations had each been given a shot, that it wasn’t either of them causing the issue, just a bad roll of the dice. And then the third pregnancy happened, and things were going well, and Tommy was pretty sure that the baby was probably biologically Evan’s, but he didn’t care because they finally had a baby with a heartbeat outside of the first trimester. 

At least, they had. 

He sighs and pushes their cart forward, across the space into the nursery area that Evan is standing in. 

“Where’s your head at,” he asks, sliding a hand around his husband’s waist, staring down into the empty crib. There’s a teddy bear tucked in the corner. 

“Baby kicks,” Evan replies, running his fingers over the enamel paint. 

Tommy gives a small smile, turning his head and kissing his husband’s birthmark. 

“I hope she has one right here, just like you,” he murmurs. Evan sighs, leaning into the gesture. 

“She’s not even mine biologically,” Evan replies when he pulls away, looks up at Tommy. 

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him for just a tick. “Only because genetic material shouldn’t be mixed between siblings.” 

Evan rolls his eyes and looks back down at the crib, a smile still playing on his features. 

“She’ll still be a Buckley,” he comments. “That’s all I care about.” 

“Mmm. Which means she could still have that birthmark.” 

After Kameron, Evan had been rudderless. They’d talked about adoption, had started the process for foster care and were meeting with some private agencies, but they both knew that even that was going to be a years-long process. Truth be told, Tommy wasn’t entirely sure what convinced him to think that calling Maddie was a good idea, but he’d been willing to do anything to help the situation after seeing the way his husband suffered in silence for months on end. 

At the time, he’d felt bad, mostly because he hadn’t asked Chimney if he’d be okay with the idea first. But Maddie had said yes without a second thought. Granted, there had been a brief period when, after he’d told Evan about Maddie agreeing to try, that Evan had mentioned the option for his sister to provide the other half of the baby’s DNA, given that they’d burned all their embryos with Kameron. That question had been a little out of left field for both Maddie and Chimney. For about thirty-six hours, Tommy had been convinced Maddie would end the entire conversation, not hold any interest at that point in helping. 

But then, by some miracle, she’d said yes. To all of it. 

That had been nearly six months ago. 

“Alright,” Tommy murmurs after a beat. “We still have a few weeks before the shower and we don’t have the time or money to put together an entire nursery right now when we need to make sure the rest of the house is in order in the next three months.” 

Evan lets out another sigh, this one far more contented. 

“Fine,” he murmurs. “But I want some of that chocolate cake they have in the restaurant. Plus, I promised Maddie I’d bring her the strawberry shortcake.” 

Tommy laughs, letting Evan pull him out of the room. 

“You Buckleys and your sugar intake,” he comments. “Here’s hoping Lucy gets my metabolism.” 

Evan turns on his heel, narrows his eyes at his husband. 

“Here’s hoping she doesn’t have your sass.” 

[apocalypseornaw]

Wanna be Yours (Pt 3/5)

Sam Winchester x Reader

You're starting to realize some feelings you're developing

@lacilou idea I'm trying to do justice to

Tuesday night, you hadn't expected the bar to be so crowded. The moment you stepped in the stench of a cheap cigar hit your nose and you could hear the bartender yelling at the culprit the get out. You weren't sure why you were here, you could've gotten a drink from the mini bar at the hotel.

You looked around and spotted Ronnie sitting at the bar, she glanced up and waved when she spotted you "So you can drink with someone besides the Winchesters" she teased when you made it to her side. You rolled your eyes "Normally I want a shower and a bed after a hunt" she grinned "Well lucky me, I got her on a good night"

She was always a bit on the wilder side even for a hunter, you would've described her as Faith from Buffy had Faith not went batshit and killed humans. She was trustworthy to have your back on a hunt but you rarely hung out with her afterwards. Tonight was just a rare night you were craving company and the boys were states away.

You peeled at the label of your beer while you listened to her ramble about her latest one night stand. You missed Dean, his presence was always a comfort at bars because he knew you well enough to know when to back off and when to back someone else off.

You missed Sam too. He'd always be the gentleman to walk you to the bar or to the bathroom and wait outside the door. You smiled thinking of the last time you'd seen the Winchesters a couple weeks before, it was downtime and the three of you had ended up at Bobby's.

You'd needed a part for your challenger and they were just catching a breather. Dean had offered to change the part out for you so that somehow ended with you and Sam having to make a run into town for Bobby.

You were sitting sideways in the passenger seat of the impala while Sam drove. You'd fiddled with the radio enough to get it to a station you liked and you were currently singing along lightly with the radio.

Sam cut his eyes at you twice before you met his gaze "Yes Samuel?" He laughed and shook his head "Nothing, it's just good to see you actually relax now and then. No offense but you remind me of Dean at times, you two take so much guilt in on things that are no where near being your fault"

You smiled "Look who's talking. I think we all share guilt over shit we can't change pretty well. Truthfully things feel easier when I'm with Dean and you, it's like even when things go really bad I can breathe easier because I have backup. I miss Hayley like crazy but I know she'd be happy to know I am fairly happy for a hunter"

If you were being completely truthful things just felt easier when Sam smiled at you the way he currently was. He made you feel human, Dean saw you as his equal in all things and while Sam did too he also seemed to feel the fact that sometimes you needed to have a safe place to land and had slowly become that for you rather he knew it or not. You could fall apart with him and not feel any shame or guilt. He'd comfort you and talk you through it and you'd like to think you did the same for him.

"Y/N! Are you listening to me?" Ronnie laughed and you shook yourself out of your thoughts before admitting "Nope, didn't hear a word Ron" she laughed again and nodded towards the corner of the bar "That guy's eyes haven't left you since you walked in" you followed her line of sight and had to admit the guy was good looking but his hair was too short, eyes weren't the right shade of green and when he smiled at you there wasn't a single dimple to be found. Shit, you were comparing him to Sam.

"Yeah he's alright but I ain't looking for anything like that tonight. Matter of fact I think I'm gonna hit the road" she raised an eyebrow but nodded "I'll pay for your beer since you barely took a sip but can I ask one thing?" You waved your hand to say go ahead and she grinned "Who's wrapped up in that pretty little head of yours?" You rolled your eyes as you stood up "Catch ya down the road Rons. Be safe" she nodded "You too baby. You too"

You were a few miles shy of Kansas when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen to see Dean's name complete with a photo of him and you from years before. You swiped the screen "Well if it isn't my second favorite Winchester" He laughed "Ouch but I'm sure Sam will be glad to hear that"

You grinned before saying "What ya need Dean?" You could hear him and Sam talking in the background before he said "Get your ass to Lebanon. We got something you've got to see" "Well that's ominous but I trust ya, you gonna give me directions or should I call when I hit Lebanon?" "Call I'll send Sam to meet ya" "See ya soon"

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

You followed Sam down the long set of stairs "What is this place?" He smiled over his shoulder at you "It's a men of letters bunker. Long story short? Over the last couple weeks me and Dean met our grandfather and he gave us the key"

"I'm starting to think I need to stick with you too full time" you replied and his smile deepened "I can think of worse things then....having someone else to talk to besides Dean" the hesitation made you think he was going to say something else but changed it.

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

At the bottom of the stairs Sam stopped to make sure you were next to him and called out Dean's name. The elder Winchester came sliding around the corner with a broad grin on his face "Y/N! You got to check this place out. I picked out a room for you already, C'mon" he grabbed your arm and you couldn't help but laugh as you managed to get out "Sam, we'll catch up later" before Dean drug you from the room.

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

Sam watched you disappear behind Dean and mentally kicked himself. He'd nearly said he could think of worse things than seeing you daily but thought better of it. What was he going to do if you moved in? If you and Dean were something like he thought did that mean he'd end up having to listen to you two doing something? Fuck, he hoped not.

He groaned lightly but heard you call his name so he forced a smile on his face to follow the sound of your voice.

@foxyjwls007

@lacilou

@nelachu2423

@nix-rose

[whichuniverseisthis]

I know I haven't said anything lately, but I'm still very much into the season. I just got way too involved with Undertale and Deltarune. I'll just talk about the last two episodes together even if nobody cares. This is veeeeery long.

-First of all, I can't believe they eliminated my two favorite characters back to back, what the fuckkkkk.

-Secondly, the animation especially during the tiebreaker was top tier, animators deserve a lot of praise. Love the way they've started playing with perspective and camera movements.

-For Spencer, on one side it still felt too soon for him to go with everything he still had going on, on the other I get that he was in no position to get any farther anymore.

-For Marissa, God the way I was shaking during the tiebreaker. I knew it was coming because ahah spoilers, but it was still so heartbreaking. I don't care if people find her boring or see her as "Anastasia's extra vote", I've really grown to love her throughout the season, both with Anastasia and on her own.

-This is maybe the only line that actually pissed me off a bit in episode 18, because they're acting as if Spencer wasn't the only guy who was actively trying to do something about the girls' alliance, and as if Zaid himself wasn't one of the main reasons the boys were screwed since the beginning of merge, with him and Benji voting for each other instead of working together.

-I don't know why people found the challenge boring, it had so many funny moments, like Hannah with the sandwich, Isabel with the drink and all of Marissa's comments.

I especially loved the diva-off between Anastasia and Amelie, it was so entertaining to watch, with them doing those cool poses and all.

-Anastasia getting all excited over the shower was so adorable.

-I feel like this scene alone pretty much summerizes Spencer's whole character. Him acting all sure of himself in front of them, then he turns and is insecure about what they're saying, but refuses to show it and quickly goes back to acting cocky when confronting Zaid.

-Jade swooning over Spencer complimenting her is so cute.

-Overall I'm glad Spencer managed to leave on good terms with Jade and Logan, because from what we were shown (if his scenes with Logan are anything to go by) outside of the game he's pretty much a completely different person, and he really doesn't deserve a Yul status of "most hated person ever" just for acting arrogant and playing the fucking game.

I get the other contestants all had good reasons to dislike him, but it almost reached a point where he had to pay for his own mistakes and everyone else's - actually he did, like when Hannah gave him the fault of sneaching Natalia's plan in episode 17 to Anastasia when it was actually Zaid, and Hannah herself wasting money on the sandwich but Spencer got punished without getting the immunity anyway. Like, I get it, but it gets to a point.

In general, I hope he gets to haunt the narrative just as much as Diego did.

Now for episode 19. First of all, once again I want to mention the cool experiments they did with animations and various shots.

For some reason, I particularly like this one.

-Hannah I love you, but I hardly think Diego and Tristan gave two shits about getting avenged.

-...Yeah, I agree with those who said Anastasia screwed herself over getting Spencer out. He was her safeboat as long as he was there, and despite the manipulation It was true that he'd been right about the stuff he told her before.

-Ok but Zaid acting all sarcastic was actually so funny.

-I love her so fucking much, oh my god. I need a Marissa in my life.

-This scene was super good, because they both had their reasons to be so angry. I've seen people say Hannah is acting immature, and yes, she is, but also. She's 19. You don't even need to bring up the fact that she's and orphan or that she didn't know the game. She's barely an adult at all, obviously she's gonna act more immature than the others. Also props to Hannah's va, she did an amazing job with the emotional outburst.

-Logan is... Doing weird Logan stuff. On one side, I get what he's trying to do. I've seen many people say he's the reason Marissa got out, and while that's tecnically true, you also need to be fair and say he didn't know about the idol. He was probably only expecting Isabel to leave and for him and Zaid to bring Jade in. After what Spencer did, it's normal for him not to trust any of his original allies anymore. But on the other side, I really, REALLY hope someone will confront him about his switching tendencies. He needs to be held accountable for his actions just like everybody else. Otherwise he really might be the worst written character of the season.

-Also talking about the idol. If they never bring up the fact that Spencer knew about it, I'll just assume the authors used that conversation with Jade as an excuse to specifically switch Isabel in the team swap, and they never had the intention to make a big deal out of it.

This scene is pretty interesting. Since I mentioned Deltarune, I'll make a little comparison. In this bit, Isabel and Jade felt a lot like Kris and Noelle during a "Snowgrave route". Isabel/Kris forced Jade/Noelle to do something morally bad, and despite not wanting to, Jade/Noelle still does it because of a mix of trust towards her friend Isabel/Kris and of personal insecurity. I'm very curious to see if this will go anywhere.

-Finally, the tiebreaker. I've already said how heartbreaking it was for me. This probably is a new favorite scene, now. I love how playful Marissa is even at a moment like this, and I loved her confession to Ana. And I love how Anastasia was willing to give up just to let Marissa continue, because she knew it was her fault they got in that situation in the first place. Just. Wow.

Overall, despite finding some stuff questionable, I still very much liked both episodes, and I'm now curious to see where the Isabel/Anastasia rivalry will go. I'm still not sure about who might be in the final three. Right now Logan and Hannah feel like two likely choices, but at the same time they're starting to burn quite a few bridges so... I don't know man, I'll just keep enjoying the season.

[heyheydidjaknow]

wake up babe heyheydidja let their creative brain juices flow and posted a fic

And on that note here’s another fic— longer this time— about another character I have written for exactly once. This time for the otome game! It’s been sitting in my drive for 2+ months and now it’s going to see the light of day. We’re breaking down fanfiction author stereotypes this week.

Existential Horror

Luciel had been introduced to horror as a genre fairly early on all things considered. He had never been partial to classic literature— he was not really partial to literature in general once he fell into the rhythm of his new life and allowed himself to enjoy the World Wide Web and all its associated horrors— but in those early days spent waiting on bated breath for instruction from above, he had spent his time— rather, the time that was not spent worrying about his brother— reading whatever books his handler happened to have picked up and tossed aside. Vanderwood’s tastes rubbed off on him to an extent; by the time he had enough regular work to keep himself too busy to sit down and read a book, Seven had a thorough appreciation for the genre. But they did not enjoy their novels in the same way; when Vanderwood would ask Seven about them to break the suffocating silence that hung around him like a heavy fog back then, he was completely unable to engage in meaningful conversation with him about books they had both read. Luciel attributed this to Vanderwood’s lack of connection to the text. Vanderwood enjoyed the books, as far as he could tell, because he got a kick out of interacting with stories about people losing their minds to things beyond their control. Luciel was too close to it, the words too intimate and personal for him to see as anything but a perfectly rational articulation of a feeling he had always felt, would always feel. It was comforting, knowing that someone else— fictional as they may be— understood him.

It was still a challenge, years later, to articulate how he had been informed of his position. He imagined it would be a bit like a child trying to explain gravity; the mechanics were beyond him, but the truth of the matter was indubitable. He supposed it was in his programming to understand only in this most basic sense. He supposed it would be problematic if he understood more than he did. He doubted knowing beyond what he did would do him much good.

Your arrival— your avatar’s arrival— made things make sense. He knew as soon as he saw her face what her role was, and understood intrinsically who she was to him, to the world. A remarkably unremarkable yet decidedly beautiful woman so naive as to follow the words of a stranger on the internet to Rika’s apartment: she played her role as a stand-in beautifully and shined in all her hazy glory. Her words were perfectly intelligible yet decidedly lacked character, her visage was without distinguishable quality and was yet undeniably appealing, her voice stuck in the mind only in the same way the characters in books’ voices did and she did very little outside of sit, answer emails and make simple conversation. As she was destined to do, she caught the attention of every single member of the RFA— himself included. She would shower the members in praise and affection for the eleven days they had together, enter a relationship with them, enjoy domestic bliss for a nebulous period of time— he had given up trying to nail down numbers a long time ago— before the memories they had formed together gently disintegrated. All traces of her would be scrubbed from their lives and she would be reintroduced as a fresh face for the group to fawn over once again. When she was with Seven there would occasionally be a longer grace period in which he was allowed to reunite with his brother for a time before the cycle repeated itself but the ending stayed the same regardless of who she attached herself to.

Oddly enough, he did not mind the routine itself. It was hard to hate something so inherently sweet, something that felt— despite the objective reality of the situation— so simple and innocent. You— the nebulous you he knew to exist— were not acting maliciously. You were playing a game that he and everyone else happened to be a part of, and you had not, in your play, acted maliciously. You had made mistakes and encouraged behaviors that he and the other members of the RFA should not have engaged in, but you were never cruel. It was hard to hate you not only because of his position but also because you were genuinely hard to dislike, and while that was sometimes more frustrating than just hating you outright he could not help but continue to be drawn to you and your replacement by proxy.

He had memories of you. They were distant, but he swore had them. They were near indistinguishable from his memories of your proxy– which, themselves, were hardly concrete– but if he stayed up until his eyes could barely take it he could swear to know the echo of your smile, your voice, your fingers.

He tried not to think of you much. He liked to think he had more important things to worry about.

The night it started was normal enough. Everyone was in the RFA chat room late at night— odd in general but standard for the beginning of a route— and a stranger entered the chat room. There was general distress around the stranger’s arrival, Seven pretended to do a background check on the stranger— he had stopped bothering the third time through— and everyone else introduced themselves. The beats played themselves out, words flying by at the same pace they always did as the stranger explained their position and what they were doing in an allegedly dead woman’s apartment. Jokes were made, hits replayed, and everyone went to bed or back to whatever it was they had been doing before the stranger appeared. He had seen every single combination of words that she could send in response to the various threats and propositions you received; he barely bothered to read the wall of text that flew by. Nothing happened on the first day; no need to reread events already decidedly set in stone.

His first tip that something was up was when he went to text her. After her admission into the RFA, she was always a bit nervous– understandable, given the circumstances– so he always made the move to message her, to make her feel more comfortable even though it did not matter much in practice.

He introduced himself. He asked for any updates regarding the hacker. He welcomed her.

Her response was new.

‘It’s a pleasure, Seven. Sorry for freaking everyone out; hope I haven’t given you too much work lol’

He took his glasses off, wiping them on his shirt. He took a deep breath, put them back on, and reread the text.

It was the same as it had been a second ago. He reread it again.

Again.

The text did not change.

“You planning on staring at your phone all night?”

He sat straight up as though shaken awake, head snapping back to look at an otherwise undisturbed Vanderwood.

He did not bother to look up from the file on his lap. “If you’ve got time to dick around on your phone you have time to work. You know the deadline you were given wasn’t a suggestion, right?”

The laugh that came from Seven sounded forced even to him. “What, seriously?” He set his phone down on his desk face down, wiping his shaky hands off on his jeans. “I could have sworn I read somewhere time is relative.”

“For as high as you seem to be half the time you’re not orbiting the Earth yet.” He crossed one of his legs over the other. “Your tone isn't inspiring confidence either. Something happen?”

His heart was pounding in his throat. “Nothing,” he smiled brightly. “RFA got hacked is all.”

Vanderwood whistled.

“Right?” He swallowed. “I guess it serves me right not checking my work; guess that’s what I get for not having a good work-life balance!” He shrugged. “But it’s nothing serious; I’ll find who did it after I’m done with this.”

He reached down to grab his coffee. “You’re awfully chipper.”

Seven looked back at his computer. “You sound surprised.”

“For as much as you freak out about that server, I am.” He took a sip, setting it back down by his feet. “You lose your mind over the emotes not working but a security breach is no big deal?”

“Security breach, shemcurity breach.” He waved it off, fingers typing away at the keyboard. “If you stress everything that goes wrong you’ll never have time to live.”

“Those would be wise words coming from someone else’s mouth.”

Seven leaned back in his chair, beaming at his handler. “I have my moments.” He sat back up straight, grabbing his phone from the desk and shoving it into his pocket. “I’m going on a soda run. Want anything?”

“Bought some earlier.”

He stood up, kicking his chair back into place. “Then I’m grabbing dinner. Do you want anything?”

“You don’t eat dinner.”

He grabbed his keys. “Then I’m going to an undisclosed location for an undisclosed amount of time where snacks and food will be available, my true intentions known only to me. Do you want anything?”

Vanderwood looked up at him, giving him the same once-over he supposed most parents gave their older children. It had been a while since he had that look on his face, mild concern mixed with justified suspicion; the last time had been when he was still a kid.

Seven broke eye contact first. “I won’t be long,” he promised begrudgingly. “Three hours, tops. Just been inside too long is all.”

There was a long pause.

He sighed, looking back down at his file. “Bring back cream; I forgot some while I was out.”

Luciel was on the main road. The nearest gas station was an hour out. Luciel was not going to the nearest gas station. Luciel was going to the little grocery store an hour or so out from where she was. Luciel was also taking the long way and following all posted and implied traffic laws. Luciel wanted this to be a long trip. Luciel wanted it to be light out by the time he got back.

Twenty minutes in, he pulled over. Alone on a dark road in his silent cat, he pulled out his phone again and reread the message.

It had not changed. It was real.

Saeyoung knew she knew her position. He did not know if she knew the same way that he did what her role was, but he knew that she knew at least what she was meant to do. She acted the way she was meant to every time like clockwork, had said the same two things every time he had sent that first message. It had felt right every time. He knew in his bones that she had said exactly what she had been meant to every time from the very first reset. He knew how she texted. That was not her.

The original chatroom had been deleted. For whatever reason the first one always was. The profile of the new member was the same as it always was. A quick review of the CCTV footage— the same brief, unbothered look he always gave the footage at the beginning— showed that she was at Rika’s apartment. The person on the other end of the line, in theory, was her. All the same, he knew she was not.

He was meant to call now, at this time. He always did after she was done talking with Yoosung about LOLOL and his barely disguised predator-prey kink. He was never nervous to make the call— it was a stupid call, a joke call that did not and should not matter— but the thought of it going to you— not the woman sitting in his apartment but you, the real you— made him lightheaded. He barely knew how to process the idea that you might have access to the messenger. He could not even begin to comprehend how you could access the messenger directly considering your position; the idea was so far-fetched it bordered on unbelievable. But if you had…

He let his head fall against the steering wheel. The issue had gone from an abstract, quiet horror to a pressing matter of real consequence. You were not God, but you were closer to it than he was; you may not have created the universe, but your proxy and her presence did have a profound impact on their world. It was hard not to be taken aback by the prospect of interacting with a higher power. He barely knew how to process the confirmation of your existence— if this was a confirmation— let alone wrap his head around the mechanics of someone like you interacting with someone like him. You operated on a completely different plane than him. None of this should have been possible in the first place. How could he possibly—

Your profile picture showed up on his phone. You were calling him.

His thumb hovered over the accept button, fingers tingling. It was late. You should have been asleep. He should have been able to call you and not have you pick up. He should have been able to think this through further, to come up with a game plan.

He sank in his seat, pulling his headphones over his ears. He held his breath. He answered the call.

“Hello?”

Saeyoung had received his first pair of glasses eight years before. For most of his life, he had been largely unable to see anything further than his hand stretched out in front of him. He had been reluctant to see an optometrist when V had suggested it, had barely even noticed that he was unable to see because he had no other frame of reference. His brother, he had insisted, just had exceptionally good eyes; he could function perfectly fine without going through the trouble. V had insisted and had offered to pay for a sturdy pair out of pocket, and after much resistance, Saeyoung had agreed to it. Getting medical confirmation that he could not see was something of a shock, but not totally surprising. To see the world the way it was in pictures, on the other hand, to really know— to know in the basic sense as opposed to the intrinsic one— that trees were composed of intertwining limbs and leaves you could count as opposed to big masses of color had been revelatory. He had known what things looked like. He could point at a tree before he got glasses and identify it as such. But that was nothing compared to what he had when he could finally see.

It was about the same with you. He had known intrinsically what your voice was in the same way he knew that trees had leaves and branches: common sense mixed with grounded assumptions. He assumed— correctly— that your voice vaguely sounded like hers, that there was some element of you in her that attracted him. Your voice was not hers, though. It was similar in the way that all sweets taste sweet; her voice was so indistinct that your voice was similar by default. Your voice, to him, was what he had liked about her voice in a concentrated form, distinctly you and decided in its identity, and this concentrated dose of you— not the watered-down shit he got through her, but you, the person he was born to be in love with— was almost more than he could take.

You were talking. You were speaking English, mumbling obscenities about a button not working and how he must not be able to understand you because of the linguistic difference. “Maybe if I hang up—“

The words were out of his mouth before he could think what he was saying. “I speak English.”

Your laugh— nervous as it was— was yours and it was perfect. He had never really heard her laugh so he had little to compare it to, but the sound seemed to soothe an ache he had not known existed. “Holy— wow, that is good.” You cleared your throat. “You know, I wasn’t sure what you’d sound like, but you sound almost the same as you did before. It’s totally cool.”

A grin spread across his face. You liked his voice. You had told him that you liked his voice. “Thank you,” he said lamely. “I’m glad you like it.”

“That’s good. That you like that I like it, I mean.” You were cute. “I would be a bit bummed if you— well, not bummed, but I don’t know how I’d react if you disliked that I like your voice.”

At least you were nervous too. He had no idea why you of all people were nervous, but it made him feel less pathetic for being so on edge. “I don't know that I’ve ever been complimented on my voice before,” he admitted, trying to fall back into his usual rhythm. “But I don’t think many people would mind someone saying they like their voice.”

“I hope not.” There’s a cracking sound on your end. “It would be totally awkward if I called you something out of left field.”

He relaxed in his seat. As the shock of the situation wore off his brain kicked back into gear, the gaps in his mind beginning to fill themselves with this new information. He had never really considered the idea of meeting you, but he was unsurprised to find himself more comfortable like this– talking to you– than he had been speaking with the woman he had asked to be his wife in some distant memory. “Don’t worry; Vanderwood’s given me a thick skin over the years.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, not pointing out his slip up to his relief. “How long have you known her?”

He considered it. “Five, six years?”

“That’s a while.”

“Sort of.” He shrugged. “That’s twenty-five-point-two percent of my life give or take; in the grand scheme of things, that isn’t all that long.”

“In all fairness,” you point out, “it’s a bit unfair to count a few of those years; nobody remembers the first couple.”

He tutted. “Gotta disagree with you there. Just because I don’t have very many memories from when I was little doesn’t mean they shouldn’t count in the total.”

“Why not?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” He fiddled with the string of his hoodie. “I mean, just because someone gets blackout drunk doesn’t mean the time they spent blackout drunk didn't happen, right? And even if I don’t remember some stuff that’s happened,” he continued, a lump forming in his throat, “or I don’t have a good grasp of when things happened, they still happened, didn’t they? My memory can’t be the only thing that determines whether something’s happened, right?”

“Sure it is.” You did not seem to catch onto his mood switch; he was thankful for that. “I mean, photos can be doctored and videos can be faked and records altered; not to get philosophical on you, but what else can we trust besides our memories?” You sighed. “But then again, memories aren’t tangible and the human brain is famously unreliable, so maybe we’re all fucked and doomed to try to hold onto false memories and will them into being.”

He took a slow, deep breath. “Fair point.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I wish I took more photos; I should ask V to show me how.” His eyes softened as he tried to swallow the bad taste in his mouth. “At least if I have physical photos they’d be harder to alter, right? It’d be nice to have confirmation that my memories are trustworthy.”

“I guess if you have a place to keep them safe.”

He had tried taking pictures a few reboots in on a polaroid camera he ordered online. He had taken a photo of her and Jaehee and kept it in his phone case. It had disappeared when she reintroduced herself a while later.

You cleared your throat. “What do I call you? Seven? Luciel? Or would you rather something else?”

‘Do you remember?’ That was the question you meant to ask, whether you and he held the same bond as he did with her. In truth, the memories he had of his time with her were only a bit more tangible than you had been. They were recollections of dreams he knew to be true, fantasies played out by another version of himself. He had little idea of what their relationship– the one between him and her and her and you– meant to you, but he felt as strange about her calling him Saeyoung as he did about you doing the same.

“Seven’s fine.” He forced himself to relax, smiling into the receiver. “Or Seven O’ Seven. Or Supreme Defender of Justice Seven Zero Seven if you want to show your reverence.”

Your smile sounded more natural than his. “How humble of you.”

“One of my many virtues.” He twisted his headphone cord around his finger, stopped. “What should I call you?”

You told him your name.

He tried to compare it to her name in his head. He did not know if he had forgotten it or if he had never known it in the first place. He repeated it back to you, committing it to memory.

You moved your mouth closer to the receiver, signing heavily into it. “How’d you come up with your name? Seven Zero Seven, I mean; what’s its significance?”

“Oh, loads of things.” He looked out the windshield into the night sky. “It’s an area code, an error code, an angel number, a pop culture reference– it’s got layers.”

It sounded like you were on a bed. “Walk me through them.”

He sat up a bit in his seat. “Seven Zero Seven is the area code for the northwesternmost part of California, which was where I stayed to learn English before I started school. Seven Zero Seven is also an uncommon error code that I struggled to get down, which I thought was funny because the code itself is an error code for partial data retrieval.” He swallowed. “Seven Zero Seven in numerology is supposed to be symbolic of spiritual awakening– you can guess why I liked that– and seeing it a lot means you’re supposed to take time to focus on yourself instead of your relationships with other people, which was…” He trailed off. “Well, you can guess.” He cleared his throat. “And Seven O’ Seven is a play on Double O Seven, aka James Bond, which is also pretty cool.”

Your voice was soft. “You thought of all that?”

“I had a very long car ride.”

You snorted.

“It’s true!” He crisscrossed his legs on the seat. “I was in a ‘93 Oldsmobile Cutlass with a broken air conditioner in late September; I was going nuts sitting in the car so long so I told myself to finally decide on a name before we got to San Mateo for something to do and all the pieces just sort of fell together.”

“I’m not doubting that it happened,” you insisted. “I’m just– it’s really in character, you know? Like, it’s such a you thing to do.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Not at all.” You sounded sincere. “I really like you; I like learning more about you.”

His cheeks warmed. “Don’t get too used to it,” he warned, half joking. “I’m a very secretive person.”

You were a dream. “It’s funny; I feel like I know you so well already.”

“Maybe you did in a past life.” He closed his eyes, trying and failing to picture you, to make you real in his head. “Maybe you do know me and I just don’t know you.”

“Do you want to know me?”

His heart ached. “More than anything.”

“You have my permission, if you’re looking for it.” You swallowed. “I don’t know if I’m worth knowing, but you’re more than welcome to if you want.”

“You are.” He hoped he did not sound as earnest as he was. “I promise, you are.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am.”

Your answer was polite, if nervous. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”

His sighed. “You don’t believe me.”

“Not because I don’t trust you,” you insisted quickly. “I just don’t know how you’d make that call, you know?”

“I have good intuition,” he insisted.

You laughed. “Nobody’s intuition’s that good.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do. Besides–” You caught yourself, scrambled to recover. “Well, in any case, I don’t know how well your intuition can work if you can only talk to someone through a phone.”

“You’d be surprised.” He sat up straighter. “I bet I can tell loads about you from your online presence.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Lay it on me, then.”

He took a deep breath. “You’re… lonely,” he decided. “That’s why you showed up in our lives, why you haven’t left yet. Maybe not all the time, maybe not around people, but in some capacity, you feel alone or felt alone and you feel better being here than dealing with your own loneliness.” He swallowed. “But you’re kind. You care about things and people even when their problems don’t directly affect you. You have a good sense of right and wrong and try to make do with the choices you’re given, even if they aren’t great.”

A pause, then, “You make me sound like a better person than I am.”

He smiled. “I have a feeling you’ll have more options than you’re used to this time around,” he teased. “If I’m right– which, not to brag, but I usually am– that means you’ll have plenty of opportunity to prove me wrong if you want.”

“I guess so.” Your voice sounded softer now. “I hope I’m not too much of a disappointment.”

“You won’t. You aren’t.” He checked the time. “Are you falling asleep?”

“A little.” You yawned. “But I’ve got to pay every time I make a phone call so I want to keep this going as long as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep,” he urged. “If it’s that much trouble, I’ll call you, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“But then you need to pay for the call.”

“I could stop working today and never have to work a day in my life; I can afford to call you.”

It was hard to tell if the worry he heard was real or not. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He fixed his glasses. “Before I leave, though, can you understand what we type alright? I think I might have installed a translator a while ago for Yoosung to use to study but I don’t remember if it actually worked all that well.”

You hummed contentedly. “Works like a dream,” you promised sleepily. “Google Translate can eat its heart out.”

He chuckled. “Good, good.” He picked his phone back up, thumb hovering over the call button. “Well,” he supposed, “this is where I leave you.”

“So it is.”

A pause. His finger stayed where it was.

You snorted. “You are so you.” There was a rustling of blankets on your end. “Goodnight, Seven.”

“You too. Oh,” he started, “and one last thing?”

“Yeah?”

His face flushed. “Thank you,” he said. “For showing up, I mean. It means a lot.”

He hoped he did not imagine the affection he heard in your voice. “It means more to me, I promise.”

You hung up.

It took him a second to get back on the road.

A while ago, Luciel had taken the time to sit down and really, objectively consider his situation. He had come to the conclusion that if he were to assign a genre to his life he would call it an existential horror. You were an entity greater than himself whose whims he was held victim and whose intentions were barely understood. His limited understanding nearly crippled him, leaving him alone and stuck in a constant haze of half-formed memories he had no way of grounding. In any other life, he would have hated you. In any other circumstance, with any other person, he probably would wished for your death so he could at least have the chance to hold onto something permanent.

But he was not alone anymore.

You remembered. He had you.

And if the price of having you in any capacity was for him to live the way he did, he would.