#to return to a place that changed so much. changed to prepare for his return home.

[moonsongs-medicine-den]

and then we have it back for a brief, shining moment in the latter half of S2, but they all have changed so much that its no longer the same. just a reminder that they will never be able to have that again.

guard trio is everything to me soooo evil how it only physically exists in the second half of s1

it haunts the three's narrative

[whencyclopedia]

John Brown: The Flame that Ignited Civil War

John Brown (1800-1859) was a militant abolitionist best known for the part he played in the violence of Bleeding Kansas (1854-1859) and his raid on Harpers Ferry, Virginia (now in West Virginia) in October 1859. Brown developed an intense hatred for slavery as a child, and this, coupled with his evangelical Christian upbringing, convinced him that God had called him to end slavery in the United States.

Although there were many factors leading to the American Civil War (1861-1865), Brown's raid on Harpers Ferry was a significant catalyst in the secession of the Southern states, and many abolitionists of the time and historians afterward have claimed John Brown started the Civil War that ended slavery, just as he claimed he was called to do.

Controversy over whether Brown was a hero fighting for human rights or an outlaw and terrorist began while he was waging war against pro-slavery factions in Kansas and escalated after Harpers Ferry and his subsequent execution by hanging on 2 December 1859. This debate continues today but, generally speaking, scholarly and popular opinion has sided with Brown as hero, and he has been celebrated through statuary and place names throughout the USA as well as through books, documentaries, and films, including The Good Lord Bird (2020), starring Ethan Hawke as Brown, and based on the 2013 novel by James McBride.

Early Life & Anti-Slavery Conviction

John Brown was born on 9 May 1800 in Torrington, Connecticut, the fourth child of Owen Brown and his wife Ruth (neé Mills), both staunch abolitionists and participants in the Underground Railroad. In 1805, Owen moved the family to Hudson, Ohio, opened a tannery, and also opened his home as a safe house ('station') on the Underground Railroad, providing fugitive slaves (freedom seekers) with food and supplies before sending them north to the free states or Canada.

In 1808, Ruth Brown died after giving birth to a daughter, and this loss greatly impacted her 8-year-old son. Brown's father was away on business much of the time, and so the loss of his mother left him to find his own path, which would be directed by an incident he witnessed when he was twelve. Scholar Stephen B. Oates explains:

As it happened, John had just completed one of his cattle drives and took lodging with a landlord who owned a slave about John's age. Observing that the Negro was "badly clothed" and "poorly fed," John felt sorry for him. But contrition turned to horror when the master, right in front of John, beat the Negro boy with an iron fire shovel. John returned to Hudson with an unrelenting anguish for the "wretched, hopeless condition" of that "Fatherless and Motherless" slave boy. He insisted later – and there seems no reason to dispute him – that the beating he witnessed made him "a most determined" foe of slavery from then on.

(12)

Brown was initially a poor student and preferred work in his father's tannery to studies at the school run by the abolitionist Elizur Wright. He balked at authority, maintaining he knew best how to live his life, and, as Oates writes, "he was arrogant and contentious, told lies, and acquired other 'bad habits' he would never talk about" (12). At the age of 16, however, Brown changed his ways, made a formal profession of faith, became a member of the Congregational Church of Hudson, Ohio, and enrolled at Moses Hallock's school in Plainfield, Massachusetts, in preparation for seminary and a career as a minister.

He devoted himself to serious study but left Hallock's school for unknown reasons after only a few months, enrolling at the Morris Academy in Litchfield, Connecticut. Difficulties with his eyes (some sort of inflammation) and lack of money caused him to drop out, and he returned to Hudson, Ohio, in 1817.

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⇒ John Brown: The Flame that Ignited Civil War

[rosiereveries]

Part two of the secret Santa with CEO!JohnPrice drabble that I wrote Part one CW: smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, doggy style, little power imbalance, reader is a female

You carefully knock on his office door hoping that he has already left. The whole secret Santa was a stupid idea that your colleagues came up with, and everyone got mediocre gifts except you. Your boss John Price bought you some expensive perfume, you didn’t even know the brand, but you could tell that it cost a fortune, and a pearl necklace that was beautiful. You know that keeping these gifts is not right, he must have bought them for someone else and he had to accidentally change the presents. You were sure he had some socks and coffee mug prepared for you.

Even though you could see how satisfied he was when you open your gift. And the fact that he called you his good girl in front the whole office made your stomach turn. It’s been so long since someone made you blush that much. That is why you went to his office in the first place, to make sure you return the gift.

When you hear quiet “come in” you know that you must face him. You slowly open the door and find him sitting behind his table with a surprised face. He didn’t expect you to come. “Something wrong with your present doll?” he asks, and you start to explain that you can’t keep the gift, that you are sure it was not meant for you. He simply asks if you had a chance to try on the necklace. You shake your head no and he walks behind you taking the necklace from your shaking hands.

It’s been a while since someone touched you so gently and there is something so intimate about the way he gathers your hair and pushes them away, so he has unlimited access to your neck. You can feel his breath next to your ear and you realize he stands too close to you. He turns both of you, so you stand next to the mirror he has in his office, and you see the hunger in his eyes.

One second, he is looking at you and the next he is lightly kissing your neck. “Tell me to stop now or I won’t” he says, and you just nod for approval. “Words honey, I need you to tell me that you want this as much as I.”

“Please Mr. Price” you whimper. That is all he needs to hear. John’s hands are everywhere. He pulls the top of your dress lower so he can touch you breasts while he starts to rub his hard dick in your ass. He sucks at your neck, and you know that you will have hickeys, and you will have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow.

When he is done with your neck, he turns your head, and he kisses you. It is wild, his tongue is immediately in your mouth, and he doesn’t let you have breaks for breaths. John pulls your skirt up pushing his hand in your stockings and he touches you through your panties.

“You’re so wet for me darling, and I barely even touch you” You can hear the ripping of your stockings and suddenly he pushes you onto his desk pushing your legs apart so he can have access to your pussy. He pulls your panties to your knees, and you blush when you remember what pair you put on in the morning. A pink cotton panties with a little bow, you didn’t expect anyone to see them tonight.

“So pretty and just for me,” he says, and you can feel his breath at your clit, “but unfortunately I don’t have time to eat you out, but don’t worry we will make time the next time you see me.” By this point you are needy mess who just want him to fuck you.

You can hear him unzipping his pants and then you finally feel his dick at your opening. He starts to push in slowly, groaning and moaning into your ear. He is thick and long, and you feel so full. You didn’t have a partner for some time now and he fills you up so nicely.

“You’re doing great love, just keep taking me in” he says and when he finally pushes his whole dick inside you, you feel so full. It is so overwhelming and he’s not even moving yet. He sets up a harsh and rough tempo fucking into you with his hips and the whole desk starts to shake.

John is practically laying on you, he has you pinned on the desk, and you can feel his full weight on yourself. “Fuck I am going to cum, be a good girl and let me come inside” You don’t even know if you could tell him no, you are so close chasing your own release.

When his fingers lightly rub your clit, you break. It is one of the most powerful orgasms you have had. You can feel him cumming inside of your pussy and you’re grateful that you are on the pill.

After some time when he just lays on you, he gently pulls out of you and helps you to clean. “Such a good girl for me isn’t you” John makes sure that you look decent before he walks out of the office with you. He helps you to his car and drives your home. He walks you to your door and says, “Just don’t tell HR and we can keep up with the fun.”

The next morning when you walk to your desk you find a small package there. When you open it there are earrings, matching pair to the necklace you got yesterday. There is also a note that says: Be a good girl and come up to my office during my lunch break.

Part three Masterlist You can support my work here : ko-fi

[xjulixred45x]

Imagine an adult Yuu who arrived at Twisted Wonderland PREGNANT.

This could be considered part of the Yuu! Parent variables (?). Perhaps the poor woman was returning from an early ultrasound (at 2 or 3 months old) when the black carriage hit her, scaring her to death upon her appearance in TWST. She must have thought she was about to be sacrificed to a cult.

I can definitely imagine the Squad characters being much more understanding/soft of this Yuu, especially Ace and Deuce. Ace wouldn't be so malicious at the beginning of the game (I'd like to believe that not even he would be capable of laughing in the face of a pregnant woman), and instead feels obvious guilt because Crowley has entrusted her with a mediocre job.

Deuce, my sweet boy, will set off all his alarm bells. He's the most outraged that the headmaster is forcing a pregnant woman to work ALONE, and if his dorm leader hadn't been so strict in the beginning, he definitely wouldn't let Yuu sleep in a dorm that's falling apart. Has Crowley gone crazy? Does he have no shred of decency?!

Grim probably thought at first that Yuu had eaten her baby, haha, and had to receive the wonderful "birds and the bees" lecture (much to Ace's amusement at Grim's horrified reactions). Let's just say Grim now insists on standing sentry in case Yuu decides to do anything too "dangerous for the baby" (humans are fragile even with magic; he has to take care of his minion!).

Jack, bless him, also tries to help make the ramshackle dorm safer alongside Epel, whether by removing the most rotten parts of the structure, helping clean, assisting with Yuu's errands, etc. Especially when she starts showing more of her bump.

GOD, IMAGINE THE DORM LEADERS!

Riddle was probably the only one who didn't realize Yuu was pregnant until the events of the Savanaclaw episode. And when he found out he almost seriously hurt a PREGNANT WOMAN? Trey and Cater practically had to keep him from banging his head against a wall for half an hour out of embarrassment and shame. He also drafted a LONG apology for Yuu, which was delivered with a giant strawberry cake (and one of those exaggerated bows I KNOW Riddle would do).

Thanks to his mom (for once in his life), Riddle is the most knowledgeable about useful pregnancy stuff! Whenever Yuu goes to Heartslabyul, she has access to calcium- and iron-rich meals (prepared by Trey), and teas that boost her immune system and combat morning sickness. Riddle is careful not to give her things like black tea or rosemary tea, knowing they could have negative effects (if it were up to Riddle, Yuu probably wouldn't walk unaided).

Leona is much more respectful to a female Yuu, we know that, but I don't think he has the energy to be rude, or be especially , well, Leona, to a PREGNANT woman. This ends up bringing out a side of Leona no one thought existed: an almost delicate side. Sure, he's still lazy and sarcastic, but he doesn't say no to Yuu when she asks for help with something, whether it's bringing something to her dorm or dealing with a difficult situation. he dosent even COMPLAIN. what did he do to the real Leona??

We all know Crowley doesn't give Yuu and Grim enough money to live comfortably, let alone considering they could soon have a new member on ramshakle. Yuu is now surprised to find extra money in the dorm after certain visits. Not that he'll admit it, but it makes everyone feel more at ease.

Again, I want to believe Azul wouldn't be capable of leaving a pregnant woman homeless, at the very least he offered her a place to stay in Octavinelle. It turns out the twins (especially Floyd) quickly took a liking to Yuu.

A cute scenario I came up with, when Yuu already has a prominent baby bump, is that she tries to joke with the Leechs that the nickname "shrimpy" doesn't suit her anymore, and that maybe they should change it to "whaley."

AND FLOYD IS LIKE, "Why are you saying that, Koebi-chan? :( Is someone calling you that? Come on, tell me :)"

I think the Octavinelle folks genuinely don't know how human pregnancy works, so they're surprisingly gentle and caring with Yuu (even when the baby is born, I can see Monster Lounge having a kids' menu for them).

Kalim, my god, Jamil is going to have to stop him from giving Yuu a completely equipped nursery for both her and the baby. Ironically, the one who's the most normal about pregnancy (the guy has 30 younger siblings, so he KNOWS about these things) and genuinely knows some home tricks that helped his mother when she was pregnant.

offers to organize a baby shower/gender reveal party! The bad thing is that it ends up being a whole festival with all of Scarabia participating. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

There's no way Yuu, who's already 6-7 months along, will wear the school uniform simply for comfort, so if you need help finding comfortable AND cute clothes, Vil will gladly help! Obviously, he's not as strict or harsh with Yuu due to the circumstances, but he still wants the best for her. Who knows, maybe they can pick out some clothes for the baby in advance.

Idia is afraid to get close to Yuu, not only because of social anxiety, but because of the thought that he might "ruin" the baby in some way. He needs a lot of support from Ortho and Yuu to even allow himself to have normal physical contact with Yuu, and just as he does, the baby kicks. Idia's heart is gone (everyone wants to feel the kicks now, especially Ace, Floyd, and Malleus).

They probably use some STYX or Ortho equipment for some of the baby checks, and he even gives an approximate due date, which feels bittersweet. Even if everyone does their best, Yuu still hoped to have his baby at home, but he doesn't complain when the boys do all this for them. It feels like Home.

Malleus is another who doesn't fully understand human pregnancy and is incredibly intrigued. It doesn't help that Lilia's answers to his questions are even more confusing, so he ends up going straight to the source of his intrigue, Yuu. Malleus is completely mesmerized the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat, completely fascinated by what human life is like compared to fairies/dragons.

That said, he proceeds to "scold" the baby when it kicks Yuu for "hurting its mother," not quite understanding the concept, but he has the spirit. Malleus is very scared of the idea of childbirth once he's educated on it (WHERE will the baby come out? HOW!?) and will probably try to improve his healing magic SOLELY because of that.

All I can say is that if the baby is born in Twisted Wonderland, they'll have a wide array of adoptive siblings, father figures, babysitters, and weird and eccentric uncles who will take very good care of them and its mother. So you can rest easy.

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Imagínate una Yuu adulta que llego a Twisted Wonderland estando EMBARAZADA

Esto podría considerarse parte de las variables de Yuu! Parent(?)Talvez la pobre mujer estaba regresando de un ultrasonido de los primeros meses (2 o 3 meses) cuando el carruaje negro le paso por encima, dándole un susto de muerte cuando apareció en TWST. La pobre mujer debio pensar que estaba a punto de ser sacrificada a un culto.

Definitivamente puedo ver a los personajes del Squad mucho mas suaves con esta Yuu, especialmente Ace y Deuce. Ace no sería tan malicioso al principio del juego (digo, quiero creer que incluso el no seria capaz de reírse en la cara de una mujer embarazada) y más bien siente una obvia lastima de que Crowley le haya metido en un trabajo mediocre.

Deuce, mi dulce niño, le disparan todas las alarmas. Es el más obviamente indignado de que el director haga trabajar a una mujer embarazada SOLA, y definitivamente si su líder de dormitorio no fuera tan estricto al principio, no dejaría que Yuu durmiera en un dormitorio que se cae a pedazos ¿¡que acaso Crowley perdió la cabeza, no tiene el mínimo de decencia?!

Grim probablemente al principio pensó que Yuu se había comido a su bebe lol, y le tuvieron que dar la maravillosa charla de las “aves y las abejas” (para diversión de Ace por las reacciones horrorizadas de Grim). Solo digamos que ahora Grim insiste en actuar como centinela en caso de que Yuu se le ocurra hacer algo demasiado “peligroso para él bebe” (los humanos son frágiles aun si magia ¡tiene que cuidar a su secuaz!).

Jack, bendito sea, también trata de ayudar en hacer el dormitorio destartalado mas seguro junto a Epel, ya sea quitando las partes mas podridas de la estructura, ayudando a limpiar, ayudar con los mandados de Yuu, etc. Especialmente cuando empieza a mostrar mas la panza de embarazada.

DIOS, IMAGINENSE LOS LIDERES DE DORMITORIO.

Riddle probablemente fue el único que no llego a darse cuenta que Yuu estaba embarazada hasta los eventos del capítulo de Savanaclaw ¿y cuando se enteró que casi lastimo gravemente a una MUJER EMBARAZADA? Trey y Cater tuvieron que físicamente detenerlo de que se golpeara la cabeza contra la pared por media hora por la vergüenza, también redacto un documento LARGUISIMO de disculpa a Yuu, que fue entregado con una gran tarta de fresa (y una de esas reverencias exageradas que SE que Riddle haría).

¡Gracias a su madre (por una vez en la vida), Riddle es el que sabe más de cosas útiles para el embarazo! Cada vez que Yuu va Heartslabyul, tienen acceso a comidas nutritivas en calcio y hierro (hechas por Trey), Tés beneficiosos para el sistema inmune y para combatir las náuseas matutinas, aparte de que Riddle es cuidadoso de no dar cosas como Te negro o romero, sabiendo que podrían tener malos efectos (si fuera por Riddle, Yuu probablemente no caminaría sin ayuda).

Leona es bastante más respetuoso con una Yuu mujer, eso lo sabemos, pero no creo que tenga la energía para ser grosero o especialmente, bueno, Leona, con una mujer EMBARAZADA. Esto termina sacando un lado que nadie creía que existía de Leona, un lado casi delicado. Claro, sigue siendo perezoso y sarcástico, pero no le dice que no a Yuu cuando le pide ayuda en algo, ya sea llevar algo a su dormitorio o con una situación difícil.

Todos sabemos que Crowley no da ni de lejos el dinero suficiente para que Yuu y Grim vivan bien, mucho menos pensando que PODRIAN TENER UN NUEVO INTEGRANTE PRONTO, por lo que Yuu ahora se sorprende después de ciertas visitas, aparece algo de dinero extra en el dormitorio. No es como que lo vaya a admitir, pero todos están más tranquilos de esa forma.

De nuevo, quiero creer que Azul no sería capaz de dejar sin hogar a una mujer embarazada, aunque sea le ofrecería una estancia en Octaville, ya que, además, resulta que los gemelos (especialmente Floyd) se encariñaron con Yuu muy rápido.

Un escenario lindo que se me ocurrió, ya cuando Yuu tiene una panza de embarazada prominente, es que ella trata de bromear con los Leech de que el apodo “camarón” ya no le queda bien, y que a lo mejor tendrían que cambiarlo a “ballena”

Y FLOYD ESTA COMO “¿Por qué dices eso Koebi-chan?  ¿alguien te está diciendo asi? Vaaaamos, dímelo ”

Creo que genuinamente los de Octaville no saben muy bien cómo funciona el embarazo terrestre, por lo que son sorprendentemente gentiles y cuidadosos con Yuu (incluso cuando nace el bebe, puedo ver el Monstre Louge teniendo un menú infantil para ellos).

Kalim, dios mio, Jamil tendrá que detenerlo de regalarle a Yuu absolutamente toda una guardería completamente equipada tanto para ella como para el bebe. Irónicamente el que es el mas normal al respecto del embarazo (el man tiene 30 hermanos menores, el SABE de estas cosas) y genuinamente sabe algunos trucos caseros que le sirvieron a su madre cuando ella estaba embarazada.

¡ofrece organizar un baby shower/ fiesta de revelación de genero! Lo malo es que termina siendo todo un festival en el que participa todo Scarabia. Pero hey, la intención es lo que cuenta.

No hay forma en la que estando ya en los 6-7 meses Yuu use el uniforme de la escuela por simple cuestión de comodidad, por lo que si necesitan ayuda en encontrar ropa cómoda Y bonita ¡Vil le ayudara con gusto! Obviamente no es tan estricto ni duro con Yuu debido a las circunstancias, pero sigue queriendo lo mejor para ella. Quien sabe, talvez puedan elegir algo de ropa para él bebe de adelantado.

Idia tiene miedo de acercarse a Yuu, no solo por la ansiedad social, sino por la idea de que podría “arruinar” al bebe de alguna forma. Necesita mucho apoyo de Ortho y Yuu para siquiera permitirse tener contacto físico con Yuu de forma normal, y justo cuando lo hace, el bebe patea. A Iidia se le salió el alma del cuerpo (ahora todos quieren sentir las pataditas, sobretodo Ace, Floyd y Malleus).

Probablemente usan algo de equipo de STYX o Ortho para algunos controles del bebe, incluso el da una fecha aproximada de nacimiento, lo cual da una sensación agridulce. Aun si todos hacen su mejor esfuerzo, Yuu esperaba poder tener a su bebe en casa, pero no se queja cuando los chicos hacen todo esto por ellos.

Malleus es otro que no entiende el embarazo humano completamente y esta increíblemente intrigado, no ayuda que as respuestas de Lilia a sus preguntas son aún más confusas, por lo que termina lleno a la fuente de su intriga, Yuu. Malleus se queda completamente hipnotizado la primera vez que escucha los latidos del bebe, totalmente fascinado por cómo es la vida humana en comparación a las hadas/dragones.

Eso sí, procede a “reprender” al bebe cuando patea a Yuu por “lastimar a su madre”, no entendiendo bien el concepto, pero tiene el espíritu. A Malleus le asusta mucho la idea del parto una vez que se educa al respecto (¿Qué el bebe saldrá DE DONDE? ¡¿COMO!?) y probablemente trate de mejorar en magia curativa UNICAMENTE por eso.

Solo puedo decir que si el bebe nace en Twisted Wonderland, tendrá un vasto abanico de hermanos adoptivos, figuras paternas, niñeros, tíos raros y extravagantes que lo cuidaran muy bien a él y su madre. Así que pueden estar tranquilos.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[myheartlovestheview]

@ofbreakingofflimits

{I could see Troy was torn now on what to do with his future... Sure, it was easy enough to give the well-intended advice of "follow you heart and it won't fail you," but when your heart wants two things at the same time, that advice is easier said than done. All that to say, I meant well, but I had a feeling I wasn't really helping Troy at all in him making this decision. With that thought in mind, a soft smile rested on my lips and I nodded in understanding as Troy confirmed that his heart was split between the two opportunities at the moment. As much as I wanted to say or do something to help him making this decision, deep down, I knew I couldn't... Just like the time Troy decided on which college he wanted to attend, he needed to do that on his own... When the time came, he'd know which path to choose} I believe in you, Troy... Whichever path you choose, I know you're going to soar at it. {I said in sincere encouragement since the "follow your heart" advice wasn't going to suffice this time around. In hearing his question to me, though, I was admittedly caught off guard. In fact, my cheeks warmed slightly in response. Not really sure how to answer that since this was one of those answers that could make or break this new attempt we were making at being friends again} Oh wow... Laying it all out there, I see. Way to put me on the spot, Troy. {I aired out softly with a slight chuckle following. Maybe this initial, playful response was my way of buying myself a few seconds before I'd need to actually answer his question} The truth is, though... yes and no... I mean, were you my driving reason behind taking this internship? No. I chose this internship because Albuquerque is the only place that's ever felt like home to me, and after being away from here for so long, I was ready to return home for this next phase of my life. With that thought in mind, though, a large part of why this city feels like home is because of the memories and friends that I've made here, Troy... Specifically, the memories and bond that you and I made together. With that said, though, I'm not returning home with any intentions for something to happen between us. Still, it feels good to be home and to spend time with you while we're both here. {I shared with a soft smile. Fortunately we were at the yogurt shop, so we had an easy subject change card right here in front of us} And on that note, let's go get some yogurt. I've been craving the cookies and cream since my last time home. {I aired out with a soft giggle as I took my keys and purse, exited the driver's side of the vehicle, and prepared for us to head inside the shop. I just hoped my honesty now wouldn't make things uncomfortable or awkward between us now. I mean, did I still love Troy? Yes. Of course I did, and I had a feeling I always would. That sentiment aside though, I knew given the likelihood of him choosing that NFL camp meant the timing would be way off for us currently... You never know what the future may hold for us, though}

@ofbreakingofflimits

{First love. It’s one of those feelings you’ll never forget. People tell you that, no matter how much time passes, that first love will always hold a special place in your heart. I didn’t really know just how true that was, but for me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget mine.

For me, my first, and only love, has been Troy Bolton. He came into my life at a time that I needed him the most, and no matter where life takes us, I’ll never forget how he made me feel, or the person I became simply by having him in my life. It’s funny when you consider I was so mad at my mom when her job transferred her to New Mexico. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have anything against Albuquerque, but it was just the fact that I was tired of moving around. You finally make a few friends, and you get adjusted into a new school, and suddenly you’re packing up and moving again. Needless to say, I became really good at goodbyes. Fortunately for me, my mom made it clear to her bosses that she wouldn’t accept another transfer, after that last one, until I graduated from high school. I was lucky because it was in Albuquerque, or more accurately, at East High that I finally figured out who I am. It was my season of firsts… First love… first kiss… first time singing in front of an audience without passing out… first time in a school musical… first time that I had a whole circle of really great friends… And the list goes on. I loved everything about East High, especially Troy Bolton. Then college happened and I didn’t know where that would leave Troy and I. Sure, just like any high school couple, you make the promise to give it your best shot, but with distance and the busyness of college, it starts to weigh on a relationship. At least that’s what people like Taylor, Chad, Kelsie, and my mom warned me. I don’t know, though… When it came to Troy and me, I knew if anyone could defy the odds and make our relationship last, it was us.

For our parts, we did give it our best shot. We went strong through our first year of college, even the second-year defied expectations, but as it continued, I could feel us starting to drift apart. It made sense, though. I mean, we both made new friendships at college, we both had heavy loads with our classes and assignments, and we were both also involved in extracurriculars at college, too. All that to say, it didn’t leave much time for each other. Our weekend meet ups and dates gradually dwindled to once a month, if we were lucky, and over time, it just became one disappointment and canceled date after another for us. In the end, we decided it was best just to end our relationship. It was nobody’s fault, really. Just reality became a bit too much for us to continue holding on to our “kindergarten fantasies,” you could say.

My senior year was wrapping up at college, and I was still undecided on what I wanted to do next. Sure, I had job offers lining up, but nothing had really stuck out to me yet, regarding which path I wanted to choose. My mom had since been transferred back to Albuquerque and was living in our old house, so I had strongly considered taking a position that I had been offered at a law office in Albuquerque, but I still wasn’t sure. I mean, maybe a change in scenery is what I needed. Still, Albuquerque was the place that still felt most like home, so maybe that was my answer. I silently considered as I left the dining hall and started back toward my dorm room to continue packing up. I had no sooner reached my dorm room when I got a text from Taylor asking me if I was returning for the alumni event being held for our graduating class back at East High. Sure, I recalled reading the email a few times… Going back and forth on whether or not I wanted to do this, but in the end, I was still undecided, at best. Don’t get me wrong, it might be really nostalgic to be back at East High again, and it would be great to see my friends, but I was admittedly nervous about seeing Troy} Maybe… {I texted back in response as I continued packing up my dorm room; stacking my packed bins in the corner of the room, so they would be ready to load into my SUV once I finished finals later this week.

Days passed, graduation happened, and I found myself back in Albuquerque. I was still undecided on which job I was going to take, but for now, I was indefinitely moved back into my mom’s house. After going back and forth for weeks, Taylor managed to convince me to attend the alumni event at East High this weekend, so I now found myself in front of my closet door mirror trying on one outfit after another in search of just the perfect outfit. I was never this indecisive about what to wear, but I don’t know, I guess the possibility of seeing Troy today left me feeling nervous} “The one you’re wearing is perfect. Now put those shoes on, and let’s go.” {I heard Taylor’s bossy voice ringing out from behind me; prompting a bright smile to my face. Squealing softly in excitement while rushing over toward her to greet her with a hug} I didn’t know you were coming here to get me. {I said as we exchanged a long overdue hug with each other. She chuckled lightly and replied} “I figured if we’re both going into that school with the chance of having to face our ex-boyfriends, or worse yet, Sharpay Evans, we’d need each other for moral support.” {I nodded in response and smiled as we broke the hug. I took one last look in the mirror after slipping into the shoes Taylor suggested for me to wear. I still wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that this was the right outfit to go with, but it would do. I thought with a silent nod as I grabbed my purse and keys. Not a moment too soon since I felt Taylor grab my hand; tugging me out of my bedroom, downstairs, and ultimately out to her awaiting vehicle. A nervous sigh leaving my lips as I got situated in the passenger’s side seat of her vehicle} “We’ve got this. I mean, we’re all in this together, right?” {She said with a knowing smile and a giggle as she started up the vehicle and then with an exhaled breath, she pulled away from my house; taking the familiar drive to East High School for what could potentially be an unforgettable weekend for us both}

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect

7.1k words

18+ only

Warnings: brief alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos, oral sex [female receiving]

Summary: A Ravenclaw prefect catches Fred's eye, but she's not as easy to seduce as he had thought (slow burn, jealous ex, jealous Fred)

----

You stepped into the courtyard with your friends, taking in the autumn air. The leaves were finally turning the burning red color that you loved so much. It reminded you of someone.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Cho asked, nudging your arm. You had drifted off into your own thoughts while admiring the scenery.

"Of course, of course. You were talking about your Herbology exam," you replied, linking arms with Cho. She frequently complained about your "dreamy" tendencies, scolding you for having a wandering imagination. 

Your group continued through the courtyard, almost making it across to the next set of doors until a roar of laughter rippled through the students dotted around the courtyard. You turned to the commotion, finding the Weasley twins huddled around something on the ground.

As a prefect, it was your job to investigate things like this. And knowing the Weasley twins, it was best to interrupt whatever prank they had going on. 

The boys heard the clacking of your Oxford shoes on the stone path, turning to you as you approached. Both wore their usual grins, full of mischief and pleasure in whatever they had just done. You looked to the ground, finding a pale blond ferret on the stones by their feet.

"Now, what are you two up to?" you asked, crossing your arms in an attempt to appear intimidating.

This only caused Fred's grin to widen. "We just thought that Hogwarts could use a new pet."

"And who exactly is this pet?" you asked, bending down to pick up the ferret. It looked up at you, and you noticed that it had remarkably blue eyes.

"I think we should call him Mal-ferret. He makes a bloody cute critter, doesn't he?" George replied, tickling at the ferret in your hands.

You gasped, realizing who was in your hands. Draco Malfoy.

"You turned Malfoy into a ferret?! Are you bloody insane?" you asked, your voice raising in frustration and disbelief.

The boys only chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying their prank.

"Turn him back right this instant!" you demanded, placing Malfoy back onto the ground. "Don't make me get Snape, you gits!"

Fred grumbled, the smirk still playing at his lips. He loved when you got angry. And when you bossed him around.

George pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, turning the ferret back into a human. Slowly Malfoy's features returned as he grew back to his normal size. 

"I'm telling my father about this!" he fumed, staring up at Fred. The ginger towered over him, making Draco's threats rather ineffective.

Malfoy stormed off into the castle as the students in the courtyard laughed. The twins laughed along with them, still very pleased with themselves.

"When will you two learn..." you shook your head at them, taking out your notebook. "That's 20 points from Gryffindor."

Fred exhaled, reaching for your elbow as you recorded the point deduction in your notebook.

"Come on, little bird. You don't have to be that harsh," he said, his voice sounding like honey as he tried to convince you to change your mind.

You looked up at him, being sure to make direct eye contact. "Flirting with me won't change your fate, Weasley."

George chuckled behind him, and Fred's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He straightened his shoulders, preparing to respond.

Fred leaned in, his nose almost brushing your ear. "If I were trying to flirt with you, darling, it would be a bit more obvious," he said, his voice low.

His breath tickled your neck, causing goosebumps to form. Your words caught in your throat and you almost choked. Heat rose in your cheeks, and you balled your fists in an attempt to regain control.

"You don't have an effect on me, pretty boy," you replied, spitting out the last two words. Your eyes locked, and you glared at him. Your heart began to pound as you held eye contact. His perfect hazel eyes bore into yours, the corners of his mouth turned up into a grin. The look in his eyes was almost...lustful.

Your jaw locked as your stubbornness kicked in. He was not going to win this. 

Fred took a step back, his hand reaching for the end of your braid and twirling it. "I'll see you at the Quidditch match tomorrow, birdie."

His sickening smile remained on his lips as he turned to George, walking back toward the castle doors. You let out a breath and hustled over to your own group of friends.

It was too late for you. Fred had noticed the color in your cheeks. The way you were fighting for control. It was in that moment that he knew he had to have you.

Fred had always liked you. You had several classes together over the years, and you were kind to him and his brother. You tutored him in Potions during third year, and you weren't as stuck-up as your fellow Ravenclaws.

There was something so tempting about you. Your "good girl" persona mixed with your unshakable attitude. It was like a drug to Fred, and now that he knew that he could make you weak in the knees, he was going to exploit it.

By the time you made it across the courtyard to your friends, your entire face was bright red. "Let's go inside," you insisted, hurrying out the words as you pushed towards the doors.

You had barely made it inside before your friends were asking questions.

"What happened?" Cho asked, sounding genuinely confused. "The way Fred was looking at you was...intense."

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to calm yourself. You had always thought that Fred was cute, but his reputation as a player had kept you away. You'd talked to him before in passing, but never like this. It was an adrenaline rush to stand your ground against him. Holding power over him felt...addicting.

"The twins just...they were just being gits. And Fred is always...you know Fred. He's defiant," you replied, your sentences smashing together as you attempted to compose yourself.

"Hey, are you okay?" Cho asked, running a hand down your arm.

"Yeah, just...didn't expect Fred to talk back to me. It's not usually that difficult to take House points away," you said, attempting to explain away why you were so flustered.

"But the way that he was looking at you..." Beatrice chimed in. "He looked....I don't know. I've never seen him like that."

"He's just being Fred," you said, trying to dismiss it. "Let's go to the library, I have mountains of homework."

Your group headed towards the library, finding your usual table and settling in. You tried to work on an essay for Muggle Studies, but you couldn't focus. Your thoughts kept wandering back to Fred and his hazel eyes burning into yours. The way his breath felt on your neck. His fingers twirling your hair.

You tried to snap yourself out of it. You knew that Fred was a flirt. He had quite the reputation with the girls at Hogwarts, and he did not have a hard time finding a date. He was probably just messing with you. It was nothing, and you scolded yourself for replaying the scene in your head over and over again.

----

Fred and George were lounging in the Common Room, finding anything to do instead of their homework. Fred was sketching in his sketchbook while George conjured and disintegrated flowers over and over again.

"What was your deal earlier today with that prefect?" George blurted out, breaking the silence in the room.

Fred turned to him. "What do you mean?" he asked, acting confused.

"You know exactly what I mean, you git. You were toying with her," George said, disintegrating another clump of flowers with his wand. 

"I wasn't toying with her," Fred said, seeming defensive. "I just...wanted to see if she would actually take the points away."

"Sureeeeeeeeeeee...." George replied, obviously doubtful. "You were flirting with her. In front of the whole courtyard, mind you."

"That was not flirting," Fred scoffed, focused on his sketchbook.

"What are you drawing?" George asked, getting up from his place on the couch to look at Fred's sketchbook.

"Nothing," Fred said, holding the sketchbook tight to his chest. "It's none of your business."

"Oh come on, Fred. Get off it. Show me the bloody sketch," George said, holding out his hand for the sketchbook.

Fred huffed, reluctantly handing it over. George took hold of the sketchbook, turning it so he could see the sketch. On the paper was a replica of your face. Fred had perfectly mimicked the stubborn fire behind your eyes.

"Oh, so you obviously don't fancy her," George mocked, still staring at the sketch.

"I never said that I didn't fancy her," Fred said. "I only said that I wasn't flirting with her."

"Where is this even coming from in the first place?" George asked. "We've known her for years and you just now fancy her?"

Fred shrugged. "I've always thought she was nice. Not as insufferable as some of those other Ravenclaws. But...I don't know. Something is different now. She isn't falling over herself for my attention."

"Oh, so you like her because she's a challenge?" George replied, his voice mocking. "That's endearing."

"Shut it, you prat. I can't explain it. She's just different. She's confident, and she's smart, and she doesn't back down. Most of the girls at Hogwarts aren't like that," Fred explained.

"The only girl here who knows how to talk back is Ang, but she's mine," George chuckled. "Interesting that we both like a strong-willed girl. Must be a twin thing."

Fred socked his twin in the arm, taking his sketchbook back. "You're being an arse."

"Never thought you'd fancy a Ravenclaw. They seem a bit too bookish for you. And how do you even know she fancies you too?" George rambled.

"I'm not sure if she does, but I can change that," Fred said, a smirk crossing his features. "I'm going to get her to come to the match this weekend. She'll be mine before the weekend is over, you'll see."

----

Students were buzzing at breakfast on Saturday morning. It was the day of the big Gryffindor vs. Slytherin quidditch match, and everyone was nervous with anticipation for the face-off. You were somewhat indifferent to quidditch, but you usually went with your friends for something to do on a Saturday afternoon. It gave you a break from doing homework in the library.

You had just taken another bite of toast when someone tapped on your shoulder. You put the toast on your plate, turning around in confusion. Standing behind you was none other than Fred Weasley. A grin was on his lips and his hands were behind his back.

"Yes, Weasley?" you said, slight irritation lacing your voice. You had finally gotten him to stay out of your thoughts, and now here he was again.

"I wanted to make sure that you're coming to the match today," he said, a certain sweetness in his voice. "And I wanted to give you this."

Fred pulled a scarf out from behind his back. It was his Gryffindor scarf, adorned with his house colors, crest, and initials. You stared at it in disbelief as it hung from his hands in front of you.

"Uhm...okay," you replied, sheepishly taking the scarf from him. A blush was starting to form on your cheeks. This was quite the unexpected move from Fred.

"If you're going to cheer for me, you need to be wearing my colors," he said, giving you a wink. This did nothing to calm the redness of your cheeks. You racked your brain for a snide remark to shoot back at him.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Weasley, but if this is you trying to mark your territory, I don't want it," you said, finally regaining your resolve.

His eyes softened, making your stomach flutter. Damn it.

"I'm not marking my territory, birdie. I just wanted a pretty girl to have my scarf. You're my lucky charm today," he replied, cocking his head to the side in a way that gave him a boyish vibe.

You huffed in response, reluctant to accept his answer. Before you could make another snappy reply, Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I don't mark my territory with a scarf, darling," he whispered, his voice low enough to give you chills. "I can show you later if you'd like."

You swallowed hard, clenching your jaw. You were not going to let Fred Weasley know that he could make you flustered. He can make any girl at Hogwarts swoon, but you were determined to not be one of them.

Fred backed away, a devious smirk on his lips. "I'll see you in the stands, birdie."

Fred left the Great Hall as if nothing had happened. You sat there trying to catch your breath, irritated at him for getting you so wound up. He was infuriating. But for some reason, you liked it.

----

You settled into the stands with Cho and Beatrice. Fred's scarf was in your backpack, and you were still debating on whether or not to wear it. 

"Come on, just put it on! It's cute that he gave you his scarf," Beatrice said, nudging your shoulder with hers. "Fred is adorable. All of the other girls are going to be jealous."

"Bea, Fred is a troublemaker," Cho replied. "He doesn't have the best reputation, and I wouldn't want to get mixed up in that if it were me. Wearing that scarf is just going to bring unwanted attention."

You had been stewing over this ever since breakfast. Now you knew that Fred's flirting wasn't just your overactive imagination or wishful thinking. It was real. You had to decide what to do, and you weren't quite sure of his intentions. 

"Wait, I have an idea," you blurted out, getting up from the stands before Beatrice or Cho could reply.

Your feet carried you to a place that you had been many, many times before. The Slytherin quidditch team's locker room. 

You had dated Adrian Pucey for most of last year, and you used the locker room as a place to hook up after hours. The breakup was relatively amicable. Adrian wanted to get more serious, and you were too focused on passing your O.W.L.s. You parted ways on good terms, but you knew he would be willing to get back together if you asked. 

You knocked on the locker room door, and Draco was the one to answer.

"Yes?" he asked, half-dressed in his uniform.

"Can you get Adrian for me?" you asked, crossing your arms as you leaned against the door frame.

Draco shut the door. It opened a few moments later, but this time it was Adrian.

"Hey," he said, taking in your figure in the doorway. He always looked at you like that. A mix of lust and admiration. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," you replied, inching closer to him. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course, love," he said, his eyes soft as he looked at you.

Part of you felt guilty for this. Toying with Adrian was totally unnecessary, but you wanted to get under Fred's skin in the same way that he got under yours.

"Can I wear your scarf today?" you asked sweetly. "For old time's sake? And for good luck. I'm rooting for you."

"Anything for you," he replied. "I'll be back with it in a moment."

You huffed a sigh of relief as he turned back into the locker room to fetch the scarf. You had worn it to all of his matches last year, cheering for him from the stands even though you didn't understand all of the rules of quidditch.

Adrian returned to the door with his scarf, handing it to you.

"Thank you," you said. "I'll give it back after the match. You're going to be great."

You leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled at you in the same way that he always had. It made your heart hurt in a way, but you were motivated by vengeance. 

You made your way back up into the stands to sit with Beatrice and Cho. You sat down, weaving Adrian's scarf around your neck.

Beatrice gasped. "You're a masher! Adrian's scarf!?"

You smirked, pleased with yourself. "Adrian and I are still friends. He deserves to win today."

Cho groaned. "You're digging your own grave. Fred is going to be insufferable when he sees you. And leading Adrian on? That's just dodgy."

"I'm not leading him on," you said, feeling defensive. "I just asked to wear his scarf for good luck. I didn't promise that we were getting back together."

"Whatever," Cho replied. "You're making your own mess."

The conversation came to an end as both teams entered the pitch. The crowd cheered as the players lined up on opposite sides of the pitch, awaiting their introductions. 

As the announcers began, Adrian's eyes found yours. You shot him a thumbs up, and he nodded at you with a small smile on his face. It was just like old times, and a pang of sadness shot through you.

From the moment that he stepped onto the pitch, Fred immediately clocked the scarf that you were wearing. The silver and green. Slytherin crest. The "AP" stitched onto the bottom of it near the fringe. He felt like his blood was boiling. 

He watched the interaction between you and Adrian, noticing the way that Adrian looked at you. You still had Adrian wrapped around your finger, and that pissed Fred off. He loved competition, but he loved winning even more. 

You finally dared to look at Fred and instantly regretted it. His jaw was locked in anger, and his eyes were burning into yours. Your stomach dropped for a moment, taking away the feeling of victory you had. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Before you could process the wave of emotions hitting you, the match had begun. You watched in anticipation, as Fred was now more determined than ever to bring home a win for Gryffindor. 

You chattered with Cho and Beatrice to try to calm your thoughts. What was Fred going to say to you after the match? You were wringing your hands in nervousness, dreading the interaction that you knew was going to come later. 

The crowd erupted into cheers as the announcer declared that Gryffindor had caught the Golden Snitch. You were on your feet in seconds, watching the Gryffindor team fly to the ground and pile onto each other in celebration. 

You felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You were sure that Slytherin was going to win. Everyone was predicting that. This victory was unexpected, and you knew that it would give Fred another reason to gloat.

The teams lined up to congratulate each other, a practice that was required by the school because of past instances of bad sportsmanship between the teams. They high-fived each other, muttering "good game" before moving on to the next player.

Fred had finally reached Adrian. "Good game, Weasley," Adrian conceded through tight lips.

"Thanks Pucey," Fred replied, slapping Adrian's hand in a somewhat friendly high-five. "Is that your girl up there?"

Fred nodded to where you were standing with Beatrice and Cho in the crowd. Adrian's scarf was still wound around your neck, and you were playing with the fringe on the ends.

"Um....not anymore," Adrian admitted.

You were watching Fred and Adrian from your place in the stands. Seeing them converse made you feel uneasy. Especially when Fred began smirking. The look on his face was nothing short of diabolical.

"That's too bad," Fred said. "She looks cracking in that scarf. But I think she'd look even better with my hands around her neck."

You couldn't make out what they were saying, but the next thing you knew, Adrian's fist was connecting with Fred's face. It took only seconds for the other players to begin hollering and beating on each other.

The professors hurried into action, herding the spectating students toward the castle and attempting to break apart the fighting players. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Why would Adrian hit Fred?

The more you thought about it, the more you were able to paint a picture of what likely had happened. Fred has a smart mouth, and Adrian has a quick temper. It's a lethal combination.

----

You were stood in front of your mirror, fiddling with the skirt that Beatrice had lent you. She insisted on going to the Gryffindor victory party tonight. She had her eye on Oliver Wood, and she refused to go alone.

Parties weren't usually your scene. You had gone to a couple of Slytherin parties last year, but you hadn't stayed for long. You were usually only there long enough to take a few shots of firewhiskey, talk to friends, and would leave with Adrian to hook up.

Because of this, your wardrobe was not fit for a Gryffindor victory party. Some girls showed up in not much more than a bra and short skirt, while others opted for tying up their uniform tops and jeans. Beatrice was kind enough to let you borrow an outfit, but it made you self-conscious nonetheless.

It was only a plain black skirt and cropped cami. Nothing fancy, but you felt unlike yourself. Your day to day outfit was your uniform, and even then you paired it with preppy Oxfords and frilly socks. Nothing that screamed "sexy". You grabbed for your oversized flannel that you usually wore on the weekends, deciding that an extra layer would help your comfort level.

"Babe, you need to relax," Beatrice said, peering into the mirror on her desk to put the final touches on her lipgloss. "It's just a Gryffindor party. And you can leave once I have Oliver in my clutches."

"I know," you said, sounding defeated. "I just...Fred is going to be there."

You caught Beatrice's eyebrows raise from the reflection of the mirror. "Oh, so you're getting all worked up over Fred?"

You huffed. "No! I mean...he's just...he's going to be mad about the scarf."

"He's probably too knackered from the match today to care," Beatrice replied. "And from the beating he got from Adrian."

A lightbulb clicked on inside your head. You had forgotten to return Adrian's scarf. It was in your book bag. You reached for it, pulling out the scarf.

"That reminds me that I have to return this to Adrian," you said, turning towards the door. "I'll meet you back here in 15 minutes, I promise."

Before Beatrice could answer, you had already whirled out the door and down the stairs. You were headed for the Dungeons.

You still knew the passcode to the Slytherin dormitories, so getting inside was no problem at all. You made your way into their common room, finding Adrian on the couch with several of his quidditch teammates.

Your cheeks began to burn when he looked at you. It felt like he was devouring you with his eyes. He gulped, sitting up from the couch to greet you.

"Hey, love," he said, walking toward you. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yes, sorry," you said, feeling suddenly sheepish. "I came to return your scarf as promised."

You held it up to hand it to him, and he grabbed the other end, using it to pull you closer.

"You look....I don't even have words," he muttered, sending a lightning bolt down your spine. His hand found its way to your hip, and you felt squirmy under his touch. "Where are you headed?"

"Uhm...I'm going to the Gryffindor party with Bea," you admitted, pulling away from him. "She wanted support in her mission to get with Oliver Wood."

Adrian chuckled and let out a huff. "She's always up to something. Are you planning on spending any time with Weasley?"

"Adrian..." you started.

"No, you need to hear this. What he said about you," Adrian said, anger rising in his voice. "That prat sees you as nothing more than a good shag."

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling nervous. "I can make my own decisions, Adrian," you said softly, feeling small.

"I know, love, but I don't want you to get hurt. He's a prick. He gets bad marks. And the way he talks about girls? Disgusting," Adrian spat out, shaking his head.

"I'm not going to the party for Fred, I'm going for Bea," you said, hoping to soothe his frustration.

"He's just...I don't like the idea of him being anywhere near you. What he said about you today....he deserved that black eye," he grumbled.

"What did he say?" you finally asked, your curiosity getting the best of you.

"He said something about my scarf. How you would look prettier with his hands around your throat," Adrian said, sounding disgusted as the words came out of his mouth.

Your face felt like it was on fire. What was Fred thinking? Anyone who knew Adrian was well aware of his temper. A remark like that about you was a surefire way to get beat up.

"I...you know Fred. He was probably joking," you said, trying to brush it off.

"No. The look on his face...he was dead serious. Nobody gets to talk that way about you," Adrian replied, his fists balling at his sides.

"Adrian," you said, reaching out to touch his arm. "I promise you that I can take care of myself. I can handle Fred. He's just being a git, that's nothing new for him."

"I know, love," he sighed, melting into your touch. "I just worry about you. You know that I care."

You nodded, retracting your hand from its place on his arm. "And I appreciate that. But I can stand my ground. Beatrice will be with me the whole time, and once she's off with Oliver, I'm going to go back to my room. I will be okay."

This seemed to calm him down, as he finally unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Be safe," he said, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

You turned back toward the entrance to the common room, making your way back up to Bea's room. It had definitely been at least 15 minutes by now, and she was likely getting antsy waiting for your return.

----

You and Bea stood on the fringes of the Gryffindor common room. It was packed with students with cups in their hands. The music was loud enough that you thought the lights would start shaking. 

"Let's get some shots," Bea said, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the makeshift bar set up near the fireplace. 

She picked up two shots, handing one to you. "Down the hatch," Bea said, taking her own shot.

You followed suit, grimacing at the burning sensation that followed. You had never enjoyed firewhiskey.

Bea occupied herself by looking for Oliver. You saw a tall ginger mingling with a group of other Gryffindors, and you couldn't quite tell if it was Fred or George from your view of the back of his head. 

"Looking for me, darling?" a voice said from behind you. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his chest.

You turned to face him. His freckled face was marred with a black eye, the bruise extending from underneath his eye to the top of his cheekbone. Adrian must have hit him pretty hard.

You winced as you took in the injury, imagining that it had to hurt. "What, am I really that ugly?" Fred asked in a teasing tone. 

You stared up at him with a tight-lipped expression, crossing your arms. "It sounds like you deserved that black eye," you remarked.

Fred shrugged. "My words had their intended effect. Is Pucey still fuming?"

"You are such a git," you said, irritated at his lack of maturity. "I know what you said."

"Birdie, it's nothing that I wouldn't say to your face," he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

"Stop calling me that," you replied, feeling angrier by the second. "I don't know what you're getting at, but I'm not an object. Now piss off."

Fred was taken aback by your words. His little game had gone too far.

"Darling, I didn't mean--" he started, reaching for your arm.

"I mean it Weasley," you said, your voice raising in volume. You shoved his chest, forcing him away from you. "Piss off."

Before he could get in another word, you had stormed off to find Bea. She had to be here somewhere.

In your mission to find Bea, you stumbled into Angelina. "Sorry, Angelina," you said, nearly knocking her drink out of her hand. "Have you seen Bea?"

She shook her head. "Last I saw her, she was with Wood. I haven't seen them in a bit, though."

You mumbled a thank you and continued your hunt. If she was off somewhere snogging Oliver Wood, you would be pretty impressed. That would be record time for Bea. 

You went up the stairs toward the dormitories, determined to find your friend. You began knocking on doors, hoping that Bea was behind one of them. You didn't want to leave until you knew she was safe.

One of the doors was cracked open, and you knocked. Nobody answered, so you peeked your head in. 

Someone was sitting in the dark, their head in their hands. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized who it was. 

"Fred?" you called into the dark room, your voice soft.

The figure picked up its head. "Yes?" he replied, his voice quiet and full of despair.

You entered the room, closing the door behind you. You pulled out your wand, muttering "lumos" before going any further.

Fred was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees. As you got closer, you noticed his face. It was puffy and red as if he had been crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked, sitting criss cross on the floor in front of him.

He shook his head, clenching and unclenching his jaw. You sat there in silence for a few moments before he swallowed, finally answering. 

"I'm sorry," he said, quiet enough that it sounded like a whisper. "I didn't mean...you're not...I'm just so sorry."

You looked up at Fred. There was a softness in his eyes that you had seen a few times before. It was genuine. He looked absolutely gutted. 

"Why are you sorry?" you asked, carefully prodding at him for answers.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like....like some sort of object," he said, sounding embarrassed. "You're not. I don't see you like that. I've been messing with you, but I took it too far. And I'm sorry."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You had never seen Fred this vulnerable. And you had never heard him apologize before. 

"You're just...I thought we were both toying with each other. I liked it. The way you talk back to me, your stubbornness. I love that about you. But making you feel like I only see you as someone to shag...that's not what I intended. That's not how I feel," he continued. 

"Fred," you said, sitting up on your knees. You reached for his hand, holding it for a second before he pulled away. 

"I really do like you. I am so sorry that I made you upset," Fred said, locking eyes with you again. "You don't have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. You deserve better."

You stood up from your place on the floor. You parted his knees, standing directly in front of him. He looked up at you from his place sitting on the bed, nothing but softness in his gaze. He truly was sorry, and you knew it. 

Your hand found its way to his cheek, your thumb stroking his cheekbone that was bruised purple. You swallowed hard.

You leaned down, your lips meeting his in a whisper of a kiss. It was gentle, it barely even felt like your lips met at all. But you forgave him. This was your way of showing it. 

You pulled apart, but your gaze still held. "I forgive you, Fred," you whispered, your hand still on his cheek.

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Not a mischievous grin like usual, but a genuine, kind smile. One filled with adoration. 

Fred was like putty in your hands. His tough exterior gave way to a person who was sensitive and kind. You had seen glimpses of that before, but never like this.

You finally knew how he felt about you. His feelings were genuine. And you were willing to trust him if he continued to be this vulnerable in front of you.

"I do quite enjoy teasing you," you said, smirking down at him.

"I knew it," he replied with a small chuckle, his hand lightly touching against your hip.

You were still stood between his legs, quite a precarious position. You knew exactly where you were going to go from here.

You shoved him back onto the bed, and he let out a "hmph" of surprise. Before he even got a word in, you were on top of him, straddling his torso.

Fred's eyes were wide with surprise and his brows dipped in confusion. "I thought you were sorry," you said, your voice dropping lower than usual, sounding almost sultry.

"I am," he said, still confused.

"Then prove it," you challenged him, placing a hand firmly on his chest.

Fred grinned up at you. Now you were on the same page. "Are you sure about that, darling?" he asked.

"Did I stutter?" you replied, a slight sharpness to your voice as you looked down at him.

His grin widened. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he teased.

In a matter of seconds, Fred had flipped you onto your back and pinned your hands over your head. He looked down at you, obviously very pleased with himself.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, locking eyes with you.

You gulped. "I don't want you to."

Fred leaned down to kiss you, your hands still pinned firmly above your head. He shifted so he was holding your wrists with only one hand, using the other to trail up your side.

The kisses started off slow at first, but they quickly gained in pace as Fred felt you squirming underneath him. "Impatient, are we?" he said between kisses.

You only groaned in reply, fighting against him to gain control of your hands again. His free hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer into him. You wrapped your legs around his torso, begging him to be as close as possible.

His kisses migrated down to your jaw, then to your neck. He sucked a few love bites into the base of your neck, and you were dreading explaining those to your roommates in the morning. 

Fred was relishing in the tiny moans that were escaping from your mouth. He knew that you were desperate, so he was determined to take his time. 

"Freddie, please," you said, your voice almost sounding like a whine.

"Oh, so I'm Freddie now?" he teased, kissing along your collarbones. He alternated between kissing and nipping at your sensitive skin, and it was driving you insane.

"If this is your way of apologizing, I don't forgive you," you teased back, squeezing your thighs around his midsection. Fred chuckled.

"What would you like then, birdie?" he asked, suddenly sounding sweet and innocent. His eyes found yours, and your voice got caught in your throat. You wished he didn't have that effect on you.

"Let me think..." you replied, trailing off in pretend thought. "Most people I know apologize on their knees."

Fred's eyes changed, the playful glint being replaced by a competitive fire. His trademark smirk crept across his face, and you knew you were in for it.

"Alright then," he said, finally releasing you. He backed off of the bed, standing on the floor in front of you.

Fred grabbed you by the backs of your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed in one fluid motion. You giggled in reply, surprised by his sudden movements.

"I meant to tell you, this outfit is cracking," he said, tracing his hands down your thighs. A bolt of lightning ran down your spine, and you arched off of the bed. "I think you could lose the skirt, though."

Fred looked to you for permission, waiting for you to nod before he drew your legs together and tugged at your skirt. He pulled it all the way off, folding it before putting it on the floor.

"You're folding my clothes at a time like this?" you joked, trying not to feel embarrassed as you lay on his bed in only your top and knickers.

"You don't strike me as someone who likes creases in their clothes," he replied, pulling your legs open and kneeling on the floor. "You're a prefect, for Merlin's sake."

"Don't remind me of that while I'm half naked in your dormitory," you scolded him, playfully knocking at him with your knees.

"You're a good girl, I like that," Fred commented, brushing his hands on the outside of your thighs. He placed a kiss next to your knee, slowly kissing down your inner thighs. 

You tried to even your breathing, frustrated at how worked up you were over just some kisses. You were no stranger to sex, but this was something different altogether. Fred made you feel like your skin was on fire. 

Fred had finally reached your knickers, kissing along the waistband. A whimper escaped from your lips, and he looked up at you.

What a vision. Fred Weasley, cheeks flushed, lips pink, staring up at you with lust-filled eyes from between your legs. Your heart was beating so fast that you knew he could feel it too.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" Fred asked, his fingers playing along your waistband. 

"Freddie....please," was all you could manage to say. Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He pulled at your knickers, bringing your legs together so he could take them off. Instead of folding them like your skirt, he simply tossed them to the side.

"Will you tell me if you want to stop?" Fred asked, becoming serious for a moment. 

"Yes," you replied, reaching down to cup his face. You could still make out his freckles from the glint of your wand light. He was simply perfect.

Fred kissed your wrist, then kissed along your thighs once more. Your breathing became more rapid in anticipation of where his mouth would go next.

You could feel his breath on you. His lips finally made contact with your center, your hands gripping at his ginger locks.

He licked at your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. You moaned, your fingernails digging into his scalp.

It took him only moments to find his groove, causing moans and swears to fall from your lips as he worked you closer to your release.

"Freddie," you breathed out, tugging at his hair. He groaned into you, making your back arch even further off of the bed.

You bit your lip, trying to fight off your orgasm. Finishing this quickly felt like letting him win, and you couldn't have that. 

Fred could feel the tension building within your body. His hand reached up to find your cami, snaking underneath it. He expertly located your nipple, playing with it with his fingers. His mouth never left you for a second.

Your body finally gave in, tired from resisting the pleasure. Your hips bucked lightly off of the bed, a mix of "fuck"s and "Freddie"s leaving your mouth.

Fred worked you down from your orgasm slowly, finally leaving your clit to put a few love bites on your thighs. Your chest was heaving, and you were trying to find the words to say to him.

"So fucking gorgeous, birdie," he said, his eyes burning into yours. 

You moved backwards on the bed, motioning for him to join you. He got up from the floor, laying on the bed next to you.

"Do you forgive me now?" he teased, turning on his side to look at you.

"Hmmm...I'll need to consider it," you replied, grinning at him. 

Fred had been in control, but now it was your turn. You pushed at his shoulders, turning him so he was laying on his back. You straddled him once again, but he looked less surprised this time.

"You really love being in charge of me, huh?" he joked, his hands stroking at your sides. 

"It's only fair, Freddie. I am a prefect, as you so graciously reminded me," you said, propping your hands on his chest. 

"Okay, madam prefect. Are you going to give me detention?" he said, rolling his eyes at you as he grinned.

"You wish. An hour with me in a classroom? Sounds like a scene from your dreams," you teased. 

You leaned down to kiss him, hands still on his chest. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in closer.

A loud knock on the door interrupted your kissing. You and Fred scrambled apart, and you had pulled on your skirt in a matter of seconds.

Fred went to the door, cracking it open. "Is she with you?" a voice asked, sounding a lot like Beatrice.

You came up beside Fred so Beatrice could see you in the room. She looked you up and down, taking in your messy hair and crooked clothing.

"I...um, I was just coming to tell you that I'm going back to the dormitories," Bea said, obviously shocked at the sight in front of her. 

"Okay, I'll come with you," you said. "I'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes."

Bea nodded, turning and heading back toward the common room. Fred shut the door, and you looked for a mirror. You found one, attempting to tame your hair and straighten out your clothes.

"Perfect prefect doesn't like to get caught hooking up with troublemakers, does she?" Fred asked, half teasing and half serious.

"Fred," you said, turning to face him. 

"No, I get it. Not good for your image, or whatever," he said, busying himself with straightening the covers on his bed. 

"Freddie, look at me," you commanded, your voice edging between soft and authoritative.

He turned to you, his face unreadable. 

"I like you Freddie," you said, taking a few steps toward him. "I'm not worried about my image. Yes, I'm a prefect, but I don't have a broom up my arse."

Fred chuckled. You took the last few steps, finally standing in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pulling him into a hug. Your head rested perfectly against his chest, and his hands found their way into your hair. 

"I'm sorry for antagonizing Adrian," Fred said, talking into your hair. "I know that he still loves you. I shouldn't have used that against him."

"Yeah, not your brightest idea," you replied, face still buried in his chest. "Adrian will understand eventually. He won't like it, but it's not up to him."

"Godric, you're sexy," Fred said, squeezing you tighter.

You laughed. "What was that for?"

"You don't let anyone tell you what to do. It's bloody irresistible," he replied. 

"You're included in that, you know," you said.

"Oh, I am very aware," he chuckled. 

"I have to go home with Bea," you said, slowly pulling out of the hug. "See you around?"

"'See you around'? That's the best you've got?" Fred joked, kissing the top of your head. 

"You wouldn't like me if I weren't hard to get," you replied, standing on your tip toes to give him a quick kiss on the lips. 

You turned and opened the door, glancing over your shoulder at him.

"I will never stop pursuing you, birdie."

----

Link to next part

[em1i2a3]

Hole in the Earth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Angst, Smut, Panic Attacks, Mentions of Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Loss and Death, Age Gap (not mentioned but there are assumptions of an age gap if you squint a bit, there’s no full acknowledgment ), Mentions of Blood/Bleeding. The warnings for smut specifically; p in v sex (unprotected, wrap it before you tap it though!), fingering, oral (fem receiving), Praise kink if you squint, light choking (nothing too serious though), Bucky talks you through it (wink wink nudge nudge)

Author's Note: I wanted to do an actual series for this original character, but I didn’t feel like committing to something so big with my job, so I thought I’d stick to a one-shot format for this one. I know some things may not be totally accurate (this is my first time actually putting something out there that is based off of the MCU, I changed things up a bit, but not extremely, at least I hope lol.) Hopefully y’all enjoy though :) .

Word Count: 13,347 (Talk about slow burn eh? Seeing this word count made my jaw drop when I checked it at the end. What an extravaganza lol)

Some people filled silence with noise—small talk, jokes, distractions, awkward anecdotes, laughter even.

But you and Bucky?

You never needed words.

Your partnership had formed without much thought, an unspoken decision, a quiet inevitability. No one ever sat down and said, "You two should work together," but after everything—after the turmoil from the snap, all the loss, all the grief, and the way neither of you truly fit into what remained of the team anymore—it just happened naturally.

You had both come back to a world that had existed without you for five years. It was like a blur to you. It felt like nothing had happened until you saw the people you loved had aged significantly since the last time you had seen them, or you had lost them by that point.

To deviate from you Bucky had spent decades as a ghost, lost in time, fighting to take back something that had been stripped from him, and the five-year disappearance from the world felt like an eternity. You had heard him mention in passing that it was as if he was in a room with nothing but white around him, and he was all alone. Not only that but when he returned it took him a long time to adjust to the new normal.

Steve was gone.

Natasha was gone.

Tony was gone.

And you?

You were still here, stuck in a limbo between mourning and moving forward, existing in a place that didn’t feel like home anymore. Sam tried to make things easier, tried to be a stand-in for Tony, but it was no use, you told him to stop early on in his attempts, and he respected the request.

Bucky somehow understood your loss better than most of the team, even though he had returned to the same ruins you did. He didn’t bother you with the questions everyone else had when you came back to the compound, he gave you a nod of acknowledgement and tiptoed around you like you were a bomb that was going to explode at any moment, which was something that you ended up preferring.

So when the missions started up again, when the world needed something resembling the Avengers to step forward, it was an unspoken agreement—you and him, always paired together. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anyone else other than him.

It worked though.

The both of you kept things mission-focused and ignored whatever was happening outside of that. He never brought up your past, and you never brought up his, and even when there was downtime during the mission you stayed quiet, waiting in silence until you needed to step in.

But now?

Now the most recent mission had gone to hell, and you were stuck alone with him in a safe house, forced into a kind of closeness you had never prepared for.

The mission was supposed to be simple.

A HYDRA facility hidden beneath an abandoned city block, data that needed to be extracted, an easy exfiltration plan. When Sam had explained it you felt like you were having Deja Vu because of how many missions had been like this.

The plan had been clear—

Infiltrate.

Extract the data.

Get out.

You never made it past step two.

The power core in the lower level ruptured, sending a shockwave through the entire structure.

The explosion came too fast, too strong, it wasn’t something you prepared for at all.

You had barely made it to cover before the heat ripped through the walls, short-circuiting everything electronic based in the area—including the Neural Stabilizer locked around your throat.

You had felt it immediately.

The pulse of static in your bones, the electricity surging through your limbs with nowhere to go, the sensation of drowning in yourself. You laid on the cold metal, breathing in through the pain that echoed through your entire body, attempting to calm your nervous system down before things got out of your control.

"You alright?" Bucky called from the level above you.

You had forced yourself to swallow the panic as you raised your head to look up to where he was, only seeing his shadow at that point.

"I’m fine." You replied.

A lie.

Because you could feel the stabilizer glitching, flickering between control and chaos, the red warning light at your throat blinking erratically. It didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky though, even though you wished it had.

“Are you sure?” He asked, watching you struggle to push yourself up from the metal, seeing a pulse of faint blue static running across the floor. You closed your eyes tightly.

”Yes. I’m positive. Just cover me so I can get to you, then we can get the hell out of here.”

You had to push forward.

Because you had no choice.

Because if you didn’t keep moving, neither of you were getting out alive. But if you had a choice you would’ve stayed right where you were.

By the time you had escaped the facility, hot-wired a car, and driven two hours through the backroads to the nearest safe house—your entire body was on fire with unstable currents flowing through your blood. You were in such agony holding everything in that you had almost collapsed onto the ground when you exited the car.

Bucky had watched you run towards the cabin, observed the way you almost broke the doorknob and locked him out all within seconds. By the time he had entered the cabin you were out of his sight, and barricaded inside the washroom.

When you slammed the door closed you immediately turned on the dim light of the enclosed space, stripping off your tactical gear with shaking hands, leaving you in just a pair of shorts and a white tank top. You threw your utility belt onto the counter beside the sink, trying your best to catch your breath, feeling a burning sensation building inside your chest, clawing at the bones. You braced yourself against the porcelain sink, bringing your eyes up to your reflection, looking at the red glow of the Neural Stabilizer flashing on your neck, each pulse more erratic than the last.

Tony had promised it would always work.

Now it was failing as you stood there.

You reached up to touch the fried titanium of the neck plate, feeling the warmth radiating off it, as the light above you glowed brighter for a brief moment before returning to its normal state. That was the only warning sign you needed to kick yourself into high gear. You opened up your gear pouch, fumbling through the various tools you had, until you found what you needed. The tiny utility screwdriver, the one Tony had told you to keep on you at all times. You thanked your past self that they actually listened to him for once.

“It’s just for backup, kid, but if you ever need it, don’t panic. You got this.” You could hear his voice in your head, you could picture the moment he gave it to you and you reluctantly threw it into the gear pouch, making sure he witnessed you do it.

You pushed the memory out of your head and forced yourself to focus, returning your gaze back to your reflection, stretching your neck out so there was enough lighting. Your eyes trailed over the grooves of the metal, finding the space where the first latch would be. You shifted again, turning your head to the side before bringing the screwdriver to the first screw that secured the panel—

———

"Hold still, Sparkplug," Tony muttered, adjusting the metal band around your neck so that it was fitting snugly against your skin, "You fidget more than Peter, and that’s saying something."

You sighed, tilting your chin up, watching him work in the reflection of the mirror.

"Feels like a shock collar." You commented, digging your nails into the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, well, better than the alternative." He replied, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, before returning his gaze to the stabilizer. "Unless you like turning every elevator ride into a death trap." He added.

You scowled.

"It’s not that bad."

"Tell that to the toasters and light bulbs you murdered last week. You know I think I stepped on some of the broken glass you forgot to sweep up." You felt your lips tilt slightly at the joking tone he took.

"That was an accident."

"Yeah, and I’m accidentally a millionaire genius." He tightened the clasp on the metal, sliding his stool back to examine his work. "Alright. Try not to electrocute me when you test it out."

You hesitated, looking at the stabilizer in the mirror, seeing the signature blue glow that Tony had in his chest piece now reflecting off of your very own Stark Industries creation.

"You’re sure this will work?"

Tony’s smirk faded slightly, his expression softening at the worry that laced your voice. You had come a long way since he had taken you under his wing, but he knew you still struggled with keeping the power under wraps, it was evident by the way everything would short circuit even when you were feeling happy, it trapped you. When he designed the stabilizer all he wanted was for you to feel normal, and this was the one thing that he was confident in providing.

"Yeah, kid." His hand rested lightly on your shoulder. "I’m sure.”

“And what if it malfunctions?” You questioned, your hand now tracing the ridges of the titanium.

��I’ll be there to fix it…I promise Y/N. I wouldn’t let it get to that point anyways. Routine maintenance will prevent that I’m sure.”

Back then, you had believed him.

Because Tony always kept his promises.

———

Your hands trembled as you worked on the stabilizer, the screwdriver slipping between your fingers while you twisted it into the second latch. The sharp edge of the tool had sliced against the sensitive skin on your neck three times at this point, and the droplets of blood began to stain your hands. The faint pain began to curl into itself, causing the lights to brighten once again, only this time it remained that way. The tips of your fingers began to veil themselves in the mesh-like glow that slowly stretched along your skin, another bad sign that you needed to get yourself under control.

Your breath came in shallow, panicked gasps, watching the red light blinking faster and faster with each mistake you made, almost as if it was in sync with your pulse.

You couldn’t do this, and there was no doubt that by the end of this, you would have a hazardous explosion waiting to happen. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d take out the whole town.

You were going to—

"Breathe, kid." Tony’s voice warned.

You couldn’t help but remember the video he had left in your inbox, dated the day before his death. You hadn’t looked at it for three weeks, you weren’t ready to see him at that point, you were grieving, but the day that you decided to click on it to listen, and to watch…You knew it was going to be seared into your memory.

———

Tony sat at his workbench, rubbing a hand over his face, scratching at the stubble on his chin almost in frustration. His hair was a little longer, a little messier, and the exhaustion on his face was worse than you’d ever seen it.

"Alright, kid. If you’re watching this, then congratulations. You survived. You came back. And I…Well…I didn’t, unless you are watching this for fun, which is absolutely weird, but whatever.”

A pause, he sighs, licking his dry lips, trying to search for what he was going to say.

"Not that I’d know, obviously, because I made this before all the very bad, end-of-the-world war type stuff went down, but I’d like to think I got to go out in a blaze of glory."

His lips tugged up, but there was no humor behind it.

"Which, by the way, is something I told you not to do a thousand times, so let’s not make this a trend, okay?"

You had let out a choked laugh, tears already stinging at your eyes. He took another pause, shaking his head.

"Five years." He exhaled hard, tapping his fingers against the desk. "You’ve been gone for five whole years, and I gotta tell you, kid, it’s sucked. Like, really sucked. We have this whole ‘Save the World’ initiative going on, and I keep looking around thinking, ‘Where the hell is my electric gremlin when I need her?’ But no. You were gone. Taken just like that."

He snapped his fingers, inhaling deeply through his nose, trying to control his voice.

"And that?" His tone dropped lower, something raw scraping at the edges. "That was a real bitch."

You pressed a hand against your mouth, trying not to break down, trying to keep yourself as composed as you could.

"You left, and everything was just… quieter. Too quiet. No more blowing out the lab’s power grid on purpose because you got pissed at me. No more stealing my coffee and blaming it on Rhodey. No more dumb science debates about whether or not your powers count as a renewable energy source. Just… nothing."

His fingers curled into a fist, hitting his knuckles lightly against the workbench.

"I miss you, kid. And I know I didn’t say it enough when I had the chance, so I’m saying it now."

A sharp inhale. There was a cut in the footage. Now his position had changed, and he was standing.

"You’re back though. And I need you to listen, alright?"

You sat up nodding, even though he couldn’t see you.

"This thing?" He said, tapping a Neural Stabilizer on his own throat.

"Yeah, I made one for myself. No, I don’t need it. But you’re a visual learner—or maybe you just don’t trust me unless I put myself in your shoes. Either way, I made one so I could show you how easy this is to fix."

He sighed.

"Anyways, let’s be real. If this thing is flickering red, that means something bad happened. Maybe you got hit by an EMP. Maybe you took too many hits in a fight, and someone broke it. Maybe the universe just hates us both equally, who knows. But if it’s failing, that means you’re going to short-circuit because your body won’t know what to do with all the excess energy. And when you short-circuit, so does everything else around you. That means streetlights, security systems, Wi-Fi—" he gestures around him with his hands "—you know, everything people actually need to function."

You sniffled, pressing your fingers against your lips.

"So. Let’s fix it before you blackout an entire city block, huh?"

His eyes softened, something warm but worn behind them.

"You got this, kid. You always have."

A pause.

"Alright. First step—pop the latch. Gently put the screwdriver into the large metal coil, it should be bright orange if the stabilizer is malfunctioning due to the overheating. Twist it counterclockwise. And whatever you do, do not—"

——-

You pressed too hard.

The screwdriver slipped, and another sharp sting burned across your neck, the blood now dripping down your neck and soaking into the tank top you wore.

"Shit." You muttered, your fingers flying to your throat, wiping off the blood as much as you could, your pulse hammering throughout your entire body, as the crimson liquid smeared across your skin.

Before you could even process the impending pain, the Neural Stabilizer’s light turned off completely.

Without missing a beat a violent pulse of static erupted outward, a crackling, jagged burst of energy tearing free from your body.

The lightbulbs overhead shattered, raining sparks and broken glass onto the tiles, lightly cutting up some of your exposed flesh. The mirror fractured down the middle, sharp cracks splintering outward, but not fully falling off the surface.

The entire safe house went dark, the fridge cut out, the security system fried, the cell towers blinked offline. In the kitchen, Bucky sat at the rickety dining table, thinking about whether or not it would be a good idea to try to come in and help. Even after the power surge, he was still on the fence about going and intruding on what was happening in there, not out of fear, but out of what he might have to do to get everything under control.

Inside the bathroom, the only light left was coming from you, and now the soapy smell that had once filled the room had been taken over by the crisp smell of ozone, as if a rain storm just occurred.

Your reflection in the mirror flickered, illuminated by the uneven, stuttering glow of electricity crawling over your skin. Tiny spiderweb cracks of raw current slithered up your arms, twisting beneath the surface, licking along your fingertips, wrapping around your body, almost like it was a reunion. The stabilizer narrowed the current down significantly when it was on, without it there was no regulation.

The charge had nowhere to go. It buzzed, and coiled, desperate for an escape, trying to find something to attach to. Your body felt too full, like a live wire wound too tight, ready to snap apart, and now the pain was truly starting to settle in, deep inside your bones, causing your blood to curl.

"No, no, no—"

You repeated, slamming your hand against the countertop. A sharp crack of static arced outward, splitting the porcelain, hairline fractures splintering in front of you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, as every muscle in your body seized.Your heart pounded painfully against your chest, erratic, frantic—

Then the doorknob rattled.

"Hey."

It was Bucky.

"You okay?"

The words barely registered with you, it sounded muffled, drowned beneath the buzzing that rang through your ears. You could feel your pulse spike violently, as panic slammed through your ribs like a live wire.

You couldn’t answer the simple question.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t stop the charge from rising once again.

The electricity under your skin wouldn’t settle, wouldn’t stop expanding, the raw static skittered along your body, flaring out in thin veins of uncontrolled current.

"I—" you croaked, holding onto your chest, trying to stabilize your voice from shaking.

The door creaked open.

And before you could even react, the barricade was removed from between the both of you.

Bucky stood in the dim blue glow, still dressed in the majority of his tactical gear, minus the weapons. The glass crunched under his boots as he stepped into the washroom, his sharp and guarded expression softening when his eyes locked onto the scene in front of him.

His gaze flickered over the shattered bulbs, and the fractured mirror, and when he breathed in the smell of static tickled his nose, almost like someone had taken chlorine and mixed it with metal.

Then his eyes landed on you. Your trembling hands, your shaking shoulders, the way your body twitched with the electric currents still pulsing beneath your skin, his eyes watched the glowing cracks spread along your arms. He could see in the lighting that your neck was bleeding, and that your stabilizer was practically fried. At this point, he concluded that he in fact didn’t know where to start.

”Y/N…” His voice was dripping with concern, trying to piece together what he could do.

You tried to speak, tried to tell him to go away but all that came out was a gut-wrenching sob, the panic and fear sinking its claws deeper into your ribs.

"Hey, you need to breathe," Bucky instructed his voice low, calm, and even. But you couldn’t. Couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t pull yourself back from the static buzzing inside your skull, it was mind-numbing. The only thing that snapped you out of your haze was the crunching of glass beneath Bucky’s boots, as he stepped towards you.

"Don't—" You snapped, desperate to keep him away. "I can’t— I can’t shut it off…Just stay…Stay back Bucky." Your hands trembled, as your arms locked up, the muscles tightening, like a cord was wrapping around them. The crunching noise stopped, but the buzzing in your ears didn’t, as you leaned your body on the sink, moaning through the stinging pain that ran up your spine.

”Listen I can’t just leave you in here like this, what can I do to help?” You could feel your knees go numb while you were trying to contain whatever was building up to release next. You braced yourself against the counter, cushioning the drop to the ground as much as possible. Your bare knees felt the impact of the glass as the sharp edges dug into the thin flesh, a grunt escaping your throat, while you were attempting to shift slightly to the side before putting all your weight on the front portion of the counter.

”Just go away.” Was all you could muster to say through your short sobs of pain, “Please just go.” You begged, tears now streaming down your cheeks, as you put your forehead onto the edge of the porcelain sink, letting the cold temperature even out the heat that was radiating off your skin.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t heed your request to leave, instead he crouched down, and sat on the glass-covered floor, with his arms resting on his knees. He watched you closely, noting how your body would tremble every couple of seconds, or how the static that covered every exposed area of your skin buzzed lightly at any sign of movement.

”Please leave.” You choked out again, barely above a whisper. Bucky sighed, his jaw clenching at the rawness in your voice. The last-ditch effort to push him away before anything worse happened, before you hurt him.

”I’m not going anywhere Y/N…It would go against my better judgment.” He replied, clenching and unclenching his vibranium hand, contemplating. He knew what he needed to do, but had no clue how he would execute the plan without you possibly lashing out at him.

He glanced back up at you, watching as your grip tightened on the edge of the sink, another strangled whimper escaping into the room. You were already so far gone at this point that there was no way you were going to come back without additional help, at least that’s what Bucky was starting to conclude from what was transpiring in front of him.

Another burst of static snapped out from you, slashing against the mirror, fully breaking the reflective pieces, hearing the shattering as it fell into the sink, splintering, leaving small superficial wounds on the tips of your fingers, lines of red blooming across your knuckles. You didn’t even register the pain.

Bucky barely flinched, because at this point he wasn’t going to wait anymore, and now that you were distracted he took the opportunity. Quickly he brought himself forward and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, pulling you against him with more force than he intended. Your back collided against his chest, and immediately you could feel your body locking up in his grip as his other arm wrapped around your waist to try to stabilize you so you weren’t thrashing on the glass-covered ground. You could feel your lungs seize up.

”Let me go!” You twisted violently in his hold, as you dug your nails into his right arm, trying to loosen the restraint he formed around your body. You slammed your back into his chest, attempting to wind him, but it was no use, Bucky was a solid unmoving force at this point, and he remained locked around you. Another fresh stream of tears ran down your cheeks. He could feel your body heating up against his as he adjusted, trying to get you to stop thrashing.

”Bucky, please…” Your voice cracked, a sob tearing from your throat, feeling another burst of static snapping around you, at whatever was near, it was lashing out until it found Bucky’s arm, as the blue static slipped into the limb causing the vibranium to light up. A crackling wave of electricity ran up each plate, filling the thin gaps between each one. This realization only made you thrash against him even harder.

”Y/N I’m fine! Stop it, you’re not hurting me.” He insisted, tightening his arms around you once again as you began to shake against him. “Look,” He murmured. Through the haze of your panic, you forced yourself to focus, your gaze trailing down to the arm that was clenched around you. The shock and static wasn’t building, or lashing outward, it was being absorbed. Bucky could almost feel your body relax at the sight, even though you were still wheezing and breathing too fast.

”It’s not hurting me.” He repeated again, but all you could hear was the buzzing inside your skull, it was deafening. Your vision blurred as you made small attempts to push him away, even though it was of no use, he didn’t budge. He was steady, controlled, and unfazed, as his ears tuned into the way you were breathing, the panicked wheezing.

“Y/N, you have to breathe…Can you feel me breathing?” He asked, trying to hide the urgency behind his voice, adjusting again so now he was able to see the side of your face, and the way your pupils were blown out. His damp hair tickled the side of your face, as he leaned forward trying to make sure you were practically cocooned in him, almost mimicking an emergency blanket in a way. You could feel yourself trembling in his arms, as his right hand came up to intertwine with yours, guiding your palm to rest flat against your chest, right over your heart.

“Y/N, focus on me…If you can hear me, focus on my breathing.” He instructed, holding you closer to him so your back was directly pressed into his chest. You could feel his body rise and fall against you, even, measured…A slow inhale, a gentle exhale.

”Match me.” He whispered, his warm breath sticking to the exposed skin of your shoulder. You attempted to breathe in as deeply as he did, feeling a burning sensation creep up along the sides of your ribs. The exhale came out fast and uneven from you, but Bucky didn’t rush the process, as he took in another breath, his chest expanding against your back. You attempted to take in another breath, but this time it came a little easier, even though it still felt like every bone in your body had its own personal vice grip around it. Black dots began to pebble into your sight, feeling a numbness washing over you.

“Good…Now let it out.” Was the last thing you heard before your vision went dark.

------

The first thing you heard when you regained consciousness was music.

Soft and slow, floating through the air in a smooth jazz melody, rich with nostalgia. The mellow voice of the crooner was claiming he would never smile again, as the lyrics gently carried over the hum of the muted trumpets, the backup singers harmonized the man's sorrow while the serenade continued. It felt like a lullaby that was meant for another time.

Then everything else began to settle in; the bed beneath you, the rough comforter scratching against the backs of your legs. The blanket on top of you pulled up to your neck, enveloping you in its warmth. A dull ache lingered in every area of your body, your hands were sore, your face felt swollen from the crying that you had done, and it felt like if you attempted to move you would throw up. But at least your breathing was finally stable. No longer ragged or filled with panic. It was a relief in a way.

The music continued as your ears caught the sound of a soft tapping in rhythm with the song. A gentle exhale released into the room. Bucky. Slowly, you forced your heavy eyelids open, as the stucco ceiling came into your sight, the dimmed emergency lights providing a soft hue to the space. You tilted your head up so your chin was settled on your chest, noticing that you were still wearing the white tank top that was now stained with your blood. The way you were able to move your neck with such ease also made you realize that you didn’t have your stabilizer on, which brought on another concern, as you laid your eyes on the sight before you.

Bucky sat at the kitchen table, illuminated by his cell phone, which was leaning against one of the salt shakers, the light casting shadows along his jaw and cheeks. His hair looked damp and curled in on itself like he was fresh out of the shower, and you had noticed he wasn’t in his regular combat gear. Instead, he had on a black, form-fitting long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of matching cargo pants. He was so lost in what he was doing that his gaze was practically glued to the table, and you could tell he was fiddling with something that you couldn’t particularly see. You tried to lean up onto your elbows to try and catch a glimpse of what he was doing, only to have your knees scream out in pain when you accidentally bent them. A hiss escaped your throat, automatically breaking Bucky’s concentration on what he was working on, as his head snapped in your direction, putting down whatever he was working on to pay attention to you.

“Take it easy. You still have glass in your knees.” He informed, hesitating to tell you that he hadn’t pulled out the shards when you were passed out. You groaned at the sentence, your body dropping back against the pillow, as you reached up to massage your head, trying to mend an impending migraine.

“I feel like I’ve been through a few rounds with a freight train.” You said, closing your eyes tightly at the sound of the rawness of your voice.

“Well…That’s kind of what happens when you go nuclear on yourself.” He muttered, leaning back in his seat, his gaze locking on you as you dragged your hands down your face. He nervously tapped his fingers on the table, biting the inside of his lip, “You scared me y’know.” The words fell from his mouth before he could even stop himself, the admission causing you to let out a ragged sigh.

“It wasn’t my intention to do that.” He shook his head.

“Intentions don’t mean much when you’re screaming for me to go away and you’ve caused every light bulb in the place to explode.” You could hear the control he had on his voice, the way he took his breaths so that his words didn’t waver. He was bothered by what you had done, there was no doubting that, but you had never heard him speak like this before.

“Are you honestly going to pick a fight with me right now? Could this not wait until the glass gets taken out of my knees?” You snapped, as your body began to slowly heat up. He scoffed at your suggestion, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No. It can’t wait, because the second I come to help you’re going to avoid the conversation.” You rolled your eyes.

“Jesus Christ Bucky. I get it.”

“Do you?” He questioned. You clenched your jaw as you pushed yourself up so you were able to look at him, to hash this out before it killed your partnership. Your knees seared at the quick movement while you settled on the bed, but you shoved the pain aside, keeping the tensity in your eyes.

“I don’t know what the fuck you want me to say. Do you want me to say sorry I didn’t tell you about the stabilizer breaking as I was attempting to not fucking explode around you?!” You shot back, squeezing your hand into a fist, trying to hold in the static that began to line your skin again.

“I want you to say you trust me. Because right now it doesn’t feel like it, and if we’re going to continue working together, I need that reassurance.” You looked up from your hands, catching his hardened gaze, seeing the betrayal in his eyes.

“You know I trust you.” You stated, watching as he shook his head, and stood up from his seat.

“Do I? Because you don’t act like it. Do you remember what just happened an hour and a half ago? You had plenty of opportunity to tell me what the hell was going on and you refused. I had to come in and see you in absolute shambles, do you understand how that felt?” Your eyes followed him as he paced.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, you made a choi-.”

“I chose to take care of you!” He snapped, his voice raising in volume, the reaction making you flinch, not because you were scared, but because he had never yelled at you like that. “That’s what any teammate would do. But you make it impossible unless it’s forced on you, which is what I had to resort to. Do you think that made me feel good?” He asked, looking over at you, his eyes shimmering in the light. The guilt hit you harder than any punch you had taken, truly realizing how much pain you had put him in. You could see the way his hands twitched at his sides, remembering the way he was holding you and restraining your movements, reliving the moment over and over again as you fought against him.

“I-I was afraid I was going to hurt you Bucky, that’s why I was fighting you. I didn’t want to hurt you, or even worse kill you…” The words were heavy when they left your lips, “You may think you’re invincible, but you could’ve died…And then what? I lose another person I care about?” You could immediately see his eyes soften at your words and the way that your voice was shaking and cracking as you attempted to keep it steady. He held your gaze, keeping his spot at the side of the table, but now he was holding the edge of it, leaning on it for support. You could see the frustration in his eyes draining away with every moment that passed as he connected the dots.

“So that’s what this is about?” He asked softly, the sharpness from earlier being replaced with something gentler, caring. He ran his hand through his hair,“...You do know I’m 106 years old and have gone through way worse than a little bit of electricity right?” You were surprised by the sudden change in his tone, detecting the trail of humour that laced his words.

“And that this new arm…” He lifted his vibranium hand into your line of sight, flexing his fingers, letting the dim light catch against the matte black material “Doesn’t allow you to hurt me correct? The material just absorbs it. You saw it when I showed you in the washroom, you even stopped fighting me when you saw it. It doesn’t have a voltage limit or anything so…I don’t think it would’ve been possible for you to kill me. Does that help cure your worries?” He asked, letting the question hang in the air, leaning against the table again. You let out a slow breath and nodded, but you didn’t reply, you just let the intensity of the argument die down. The jazz music faded in again now, filling the silence for a few beats until you absentmindedly replied to him.

“You’re 106?” His lips pressed into a firm line, thrown off by the abrupt shift in conversation.

“That’s all you got from that speech I just gave you? Really?” You shrugged.

“I mean…You carry yourself pretty well, you don’t look a day over 100.” You said, tilting your head to the side to feign consideration “Mmm, actually maybe I would even go as far as saying you could pass for 90.” He shook his head at you, but you could see he was fighting a smile from appearing on his lips, as he reached up to rub the stubble on his face.

“Absolutely ridiculous.” He wasn’t annoyed, nor frustrated, it sounded like he was relieved, because neither of you wanted to admit it, but you didn’t like where the conversation was going, the both of you didn’t want to fight over something like that, you were supposed to be partners. The weight of the argument was settled, and you both were thankful for that. You let some time pass, just to allow each other to come down from the adrenaline until you cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry by the way.” You said quietly, earning a soft sigh from him, he opened his mouth to interrupt, but you held up your hand to stop him, “I didn’t mean to shut you out. You had every right to be angry with me, and I shouldn’t have fought you, I should’ve just allowed you to help me.” Bucky nodded, his blue eyes locking onto yours again.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, I lost my temper…And I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t mad, I was just-.” He paused for a moment, inhaling deeply “I just didn’t like seeing you like that.” Your fingers tightened around the blanket at his admission, but you nodded as well to acknowledge you heard him. You let the moment breathe, still feeling the lingering guilt of how angry he had been just a few minutes prior, but what sat in your chest was how bothered he was by your pain because it wasn’t about the outburst itself, it was about what it meant. The way he snapped was his way of trying to convey that your well-being was important to him, and even the thought of that made something in you seize up. So much for keeping the partnership strictly mission-based I guess, you thought as you shifted on the mattress, only to be reminded of the searing pain coming from your legs.

“Now that we’re done arguing…Do you mind taking the glass out of my knees now?” You asked, cringing at the sharp burning sensation that radiated throughout your kneecaps with each slight movement you made to try and get yourself in a better position to attempt to ease the pain, to no avail.

“Oh Jesus, yeah of course. Sorry.” He replied sheepishly as if he had forgotten about what he had said at the beginning of the argument. Bucky worked with a quiet urgency, collecting the first aid kit, and a basin to put the shards of glass in, stopping for a moment at the table to pause the music on his phone before picking up your stabilizer from where he had been sitting. When he had turned back to you he could see the look of surprise on your face, as your eyes trailed over it, seeing the familiar blue glow that indicated it was fixed.

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to attempt to work on it while you were passed out,” He explained, looking down at the curved titanium while he made his way over to the bed, “Don’t really know if I actually fixed the thing, but it’s not glowing red or anything so I’m assuming I made a bit of progress.” He shrugged, as he sat down in front of you, settling the first aid kit down before handing the stabilizer over to you, feeling your fingers brush against his gently, watching you take it from him with a small smile on your face. You looked at it closely, your fingertips buzzing in anticipation, the cool weight of the titanium almost bringing you a wave of relief. You felt around for the familiar latch at the back of the stabilizer, clicking it open with a gentle hiss, your eyes glancing up to meet Bucky’s blue irises.

“It’s looking promising.” You joked, seeing his lips turn up slightly, before tilting your head back to expose your neck, brushing your hair aside. Carefully you aligned the stabilizer against your throat, settling it into place as the soft hum of the hydraulics pulled the device together, allowing it to lock around your neck. You rested your hands against the edges of it, waiting for a moment, allowing it to calibrate. Bucky watched you, trying to see if there was any sign that he had messed up somehow, thinking about the wires he cut and shifted when he began his attempt on fixing the thing, hoping to god it wasn’t something important. A beat of silence passed over the both of you quickly, being quenched with a soft exhale.

“Seems like you actually did it.” You informed, turning your head from side to side to ensure everything was properly secured.

“You sound surprised,” Bucky replied, feigning offence.

“Hmm. Tony made this thing idiot-proof, so I’m a bit taken aback by your…Skills.” His eyebrows raised at you, shaking his head as he flipped open the first aid kit.

“It’s not like I have an arm that’s state-of-the-art technology or something like that.” He shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word he spoke while he collected a few alcohol pads, tweezers, and gauze from the inside of the container. “Now…Ready to play Operation?” He asked jokingly.

“Just what I need, Bucky Barnes playing surgeon.” You replied, adjusting your position so that your knees were bent between the both of you, pulling the blanket off carefully just in case any of the glass had accidentally caught on any of the fibres. When the damage came into your line of sight you could practically feel your stomach twist and turn into knots. The blood was dry and streaked in the crevices of your knees. Tiny shards of glass embedded themselves like fractured stars in the thin flesh that lined the bone, glinting under the soft light. Some pieces were deep, surrounded by angry red welts where your body had begun trying to reject them. Others sat more superficially, barely hanging on but all of it looked raw, swollen, and painful. You could feel yourself get lightheaded just by looking at it.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You announced, throwing yourself down onto the mattress, the back of your head hitting the pillow, “I can’t look at it.”

“You’re telling me out of all the things you’ve seen, this is the thing that does you in?” He commented, “Now that’s disappointing.” You groaned, putting your arm over your face.

“It’s different when it’s my blood.” He let out a small laugh, the bed shifting under his weight as he adjusted, positioning his vibranium hand between the bend of your left knee to keep it still, the coolness causing you to tense up.

“Alright, I’ll go slow. Ready?” You nodded, keeping your face covered, attempting to hide the blush that began to rise on your cheeks, feeling him pull out one of the smaller pieces of glass, starting easy. He dropped it into the steel bowl, dabbing the blood off your skin with gauze, as he continued his feat, getting close enough that his breath fanned over the wound. You shut your eyes tightly, another sharp jolt of pain shooting up your leg, your other hand digging into the comforter beneath you.

“God damn it Bucky.” You hissed, your knee jerking involuntarily, his grip keeping you steady.

“Almost got it, just hold still.” His voice was soft, focused on grabbing onto the tip of the glass that he had been pulling out seconds before, the slow meticulous movements bringing you to the brink of screaming

“Okay. I need you to talk or something. Distract me before I start destroying the place please.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Bucky asked with hesitation, another piece of glass clanging against the steel bowl.

“Tell me something you liked…Before everything. Something you miss maybe.” He hummed, going for another shard of glass.

“Music…And dancing too I guess.” You took your arm away from your face, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, looking at him with your eyebrows raised.

“You? Dancing?” For a brief moment, he glanced up at you with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“What? You don’t believe me?” You shrugged.

“I just can’t picture Bucky Barnes on the dance floor, were you like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever?” His brow furrowed for a moment, confused at what you were referring to.

“Saturday Night what?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve never seen that movie?” He gave you a flat look, returning his eyes to your knees, taking out another piece of glass and wiping the droplets of blood that slid down your skin.

“I’ve been frozen in ice, brainwashed, and playing assassin for half a century. You think I’ve had time to watch movies?” You leaned back a little, resting your weight on your elbows.

“Fair point, but it’s a classic Bucky. The disco music, the bell bottoms, the gyrating.” You reminisced, watching as his lips pressed tightly together.

“Pretty sure I was not gyrating on the dancefloor.” He commented back, another piece of glass joining the pile as he moved to your other knee, his hand leaving your skin briefly before mirroring the same position with the other leg.

“So what kind of dancing did you do then?” A smirk appeared on his lips, his eyes crinkling, showing off what little wrinkles he had.

“Ballroom, Swing if I was feeling fancy.” You grinned.

“Very nice.” You could see his cheeks dusting red slightly, as he dropped another piece of glass into the bowl, wiping your knee.

“What can I say…I had the moves.”

“Had?” He glanced up at you, his teeth showing slightly now, a genuine smile appearing on his face, something you had not seen before from him.

“Careful, it sounds like you want to find out.” The way his voice dropped made a satisfying shiver shoot up your spine, but you kept your expression neutral, lifting an eyebrow at him.

“Oh yeah? You offering to take me out dancing Bucky?” He shrugged, shifting in his spot to get a bit more comfortable, latching onto another piece of glass.

“Maybe.” Glancing up to see your reaction, noticing that you were blushing as well. You shook your head at him.

“Please, if we ever went out dancing you’d throw me around like a ragdoll and I’d end up concussed.” He laughed deeply, returning his eyes to your knees.

“Nah...You’d be good, I can tell.” You squinted at him.

”Oh yeah? And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?” Bucky smirked, his hand shifting to adjust your leg, the tweezers grabbing on to another glass shard.

”You move well. Quick on your feet, and you can keep up with me.” You scoffed at his comment, your body tensing as the pain from your knee was slowly building up again.

”You make it sound like fighting and dancing are the same thing.” He hummed, distracted from the conversation for a brief moment. You glanced at him, noticing that he was holding his breath as he pulled the large shard of glass out, bringing the cracked and bloodied piece up to your sight, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Well, they’re not all that different. Both are about timing. About knowing your partner.” Bucky replied, his voice low and smooth. Another clang echoed throughout the room while he grabbed a fresh gauze pad to press down onto the weeping wound. You swallowed, shifting against the mattress, trying to ignore the warmth that crept up your back.

”So what, you’re saying we’d make a good dancing pair?” You could feel the way his fingers flexed at the question, his cold vibranium thumb running over the bottom of your knee. He didn’t look up right away, still applying pressure on the wound that continued to slowly bleed.

”I think we already do.” He murmured, lifting his gaze to meet yours. You could see the way his eyes scanned over yours, the way that his jaw clenched just for a split second. An unwavering heat crept up the back of your neck, flushing your chest and the surrounding area of skin red.

“Yeah? What makes you so sure?” His eyes never left yours as he adjusted his grip again, letting his fingers freely brush against your skin, as if he didn’t realize what he was doing.

”I know how you move, and you never have problems following instructions when you’re given them.” Your fingers twitched against the sheets, the words sinking into you. He wasn’t wrong, not one bit, but it was the way he said it, and the way his breath hit your skin, the sensations were crowding you at that point that it was starting to become increasingly difficult to keep yourself cool.

”Sounds a bit cocky if you’d ask me.” He dropped the tweezers into the bowl, throwing the saturated gauze on top of it, as he wet his bottom lip with his tongue.

”Not cocky, just observant, that's all.” His voice was low, sultry, you didn’t know if he meant for it to come out so soft, but it still made you feel motion sickness. Before you could even stop to think about what you were going to do, you reached down, your fingers holding the back of his bicep, gripping onto the cool vibranium through the sleeve of his shirt as you pulled yourself up.

The second you entered his space, his eyes were locked onto yours, wide and searching, like he was surprised you decided to pull that little move. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him now, and you were hyper-aware of how his chest rose and fell now that you were closer to him, the shallowness of his breaths coming to your attention almost immediately.

“What are you doing?” He asked, looking over at your hand sliding up, gliding over the curve of his shoulder. His hand remained behind your knee, as the other one gripped the mattress beside him, unsure if he should reach out to bring you closer. You tilted your head forward, your lips dangerously close to his, as the both of you exchanged breaths.

”Getting comfortable.” You whispered, watching his jaw tense at your words, his fingers twitching against your skin. He tilted his head back slightly, letting out a sigh.

”You don’t want this, Y/N.” Your brows furrowed at the hesitancy in his voice, but before you could protest he continued, “It’s been a long time…Since I’ve…” He paused, looking back at you, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.” You could hear the vulnerability in his voice mixing with embarrassment, as he avoided your eyes still. Slowly, you slid your hands down the front of his shirt, feeling his chest tense up beneath your touch as your fingers gripped the fabric gently.

“You won’t disappoint me Bucky,” His hands flexed at your words like he was battling with himself as he returned his eyes to yours, allowing the both of you to really look at each other. You had never noticed the way his eyes glistened in the light or the way his pupils ate away at the blueness of his irises.

You shifted onto your knees, being mindful of the ache, but ignoring it in favour of attempting to bring yourself closer to him, as you slid your fingers upward, tracing the outline of his collarbone. Carefully, you moved, sliding yourself into his lap, feeling his body stiffen beneath you, his hands coming up to hold your waist out of instinct. Your fingers curled around the chain of his dog tags, feeling the cool metal in your hands, as you leaned in, letting your lips ghost over the rough stubble along his jaw.

”It’s been a long time for me too.” You admitted softly, your breath warm against his skin, his fingers gripping you just a little tighter, feeling your lips press a gentle kiss on his neck. His breath left him slowly, his vibranium hand coming up to cup the side of your face.

”Yeah?” His voice filled with uncertainty, as you pulled back to look down at him, nodding, threading your fingers into his damp hair.

”I also don’t know what I’m doing half the time either,” You replied, tilting yourself forward, bringing your lips close to his, “But I know I want this…And I know I want you.” You admitted, closing the space between the both of you, your lips meeting his. Bucky let out a sound that was a cross between a sharp inhale and a groan, as his arm slid around your waist wrapping around you so your body was flush against his chest. His thumb traced along your cheek as he leaned up, trying to basically crawl into you.

The kiss was tentative at first, slow and meticulous, like he was memorizing the feeling of your lips against his, the way you pulled on his hair, and the small moans that escaped into the air as he kept you pressed against his chest. A soft hum vibrated from your throat when his lips parted just enough to deepen the kiss, your tongue meeting his in a battle for dominance.

Bucky was the first one to break the kiss, overwhelmed by all the sensations that were hitting him at the same time. He rested his forehead against yours, catching his breath, as his arm tightened around you, trying to steady himself. You opened your eyes, your hands coming up to hold his face, pulling back to look at him, seeing the softness in his stare, like he was in a daze.

”You sure it’s been a while since you’ve done this?” He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

”Yeah, I’m positive.” He replied, his eyes scanning over your swollen lips, “It’s muscle memory I guess.” You smirked at him, your thumbs dragging over the stubble on his face.

“I think you just know what you’re doing.” You whispered, your compliment causing him to blush.

”You flatter me…” Before you could respond, Bucky shifted, his arm tightening around your waist as he moved forward. In one fluid motion, he eased you down onto the mattress, his body following closely behind, blanketing you in his warmth, anticipation thrumming beneath your skin, your legs wrapping around his hips. He braced his weight against his vibranium hand, as his eyes traced over every detail of your face. Your fingers curled over the neckline of his shirt, pulling him closer to you so that he could capture your lips with his again, his body pressing against yours in a way that sent a pool of heat into your lower stomach. He savoured every moment, feeling the way your legs tightened around him, pulling him even closer to you, the heat of your body surrounding him like a shield of sorts. It was intoxicating to the point where it made his head spin. You arched into him instinctively, dragging your hands down to the hem of his shirt, slipping them beneath the covering so that your fingers could dance across the muscles of his stomach, feeling them twitch against your touch. He let out a stuttered breath as he broke the kiss, leaning back so that he could pull his shirt off for you, throwing it to the side in one smooth motion.

The dim lighting of the room casted shadows over the hard planes of his chest, accentuating every defined ridge of muscle he had. Your eyes drifted to where flesh met metal, to the seam where his vibranium arm connected to his shoulder. The skin around it was littered with thick scarred tissue, jagged and slightly raised. You couldn’t imagine how many procedures he had been put through to get him to this point, but all you could think about was the pain he must’ve gone through. You continued to look him over, his dog tags catching your eyes for a moment, your hand reaching up to grab it gently.

”You’re staring,” He commented, his hand wrapping around your wrist, feeling your pulse bounding against his fingertips.

”It’s the first time I’m seeing you like this…Give me a little grace.” You joked, running your thumb over his name on the dog tag. He allowed you to take your time with him, knowing that he would probably do something similar when the roles became reversed.

“I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.” He murmured, his voice quieter than before, reserved for such an intimate moment.

”I’m just trying to memorize all of it.” You replied, letting your hand fan out over his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart pulsing against your palm. His lips parted for a moment, almost in disbelief that you liked what you were seeing, as he brought your hand up to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it, keeping his eyes on yours. His vibranium fingers raced absentminded circles along the skin of your exposed hip, his thumb brushing along the hem of your tank top, hesitating to make his next move. You sat up slightly, giving him the go-ahead to pull the shirt off of you, feeling the cool metal graze against the sensitive flesh of your ribs, as you raised your arms above your head allowing him to remove the top with ease, watching him throw it off the side of the bed. His gaze dropped to your body, roaming over every expanse of skin he could see, as you laid back down on the mattress, putting yourself under the spotlight this time.

Just like Bucky, you had your own set of war wounds, only they were caused by your own hands. The marks on your skin were not ordinary bruises, Bucky had never seen anything like them before, and the level of concern behind his eyes made you speak up.

“They’re Lichtenberg figures…People get them when they’re struck by lightning, and well…You can connect the dots as to why I have them of course.” They branched across your torso in breathtaking patterns, thin fractals of darkened reds stretching from the center of your chest and curling down your ribs, sprawling out like frozen lightning, captured in the canvas of your body. Some of the marks ran deeper, more defined, where the energy had burned through your skin with more force. Others faded into the natural warmth of your body, barely there but still visible under the dim light of the room. His eyes roamed over them, committing the patterns to memory, as he reached out with his right hand, hesitating for a moment.

“Do they hurt?” You looked up at him, shaking your head.

“No. There’s so much scarred tissue at this point that the area is pretty much numb.” You explained, feeling his calloused fingers trailing over the patterns on your torso while his vibranium hand remained on your hip, holding you still. He hummed, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss against your collarbone.

“They’re beautiful.” He whispered, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, your heart immediately swelling at his words, feeling his lips pecking along your shoulder, as his hand continued to trace along the etched fractals, moving up towards your breasts. He pulled back for a moment, breathing against the little wet marks he had left on your skin, cooling them down before returning to his exploration, kissing over the swell of your breast, his lips parting against the sensitive flesh, sucking just enough to leave faint red marks behind. You tensed beneath his touch, arching your back towards him, his fingers digging into your hip, pushing you back down against the mattress, his lips turning up into a smile against your skin.

“Stay still.” His voice vibrated against you, feeling his fingers trailing down the side of your rib cage, his lips gently making their descent down your sternum, his teeth grazing down the pathway, sending a shiver up your spine, your fingers finding their way to his hair, carding them through the damp strands.

“You’re making this hard Bucky.” He glanced up at you, his blue eyes darkened with lust.

“That’s the whole point.” He replied, continuing to trail down your stomach, his stubble scraping down your skin, before kissing right above your navel, “I want to take my time with you.” He whispered, bringing his right hand down to hold onto your thigh against him, the rough callouses causing goosebumps to rise beneath his touch. You tugged on his hair, feeling him move even lower so his lips were right just above the waistband of your shorts, his head tilting up to look at you. You held his gaze, your chest rising and falling with each uneven breath you took. A smirk played on his lips, and without breaking eye contact, he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss just above the fabric, his stubble scraping against your skin in a way that sent a delicious ache spreading through you.

“Can I take these off?” He asked gently, his fingers playing lightly with the waistband, teasing you when his thumb dipped below it for a fraction of a second before returning to its spot.

“Yes…Please.” Your voice sounded so desperate, choked up with tension, feeling him hook his fingers around the fabric before slowly pulling them down your hips, then down your thighs, only moving away from you to remove the shorts from your body completely, letting it join the increasing pile of clothes that began to form on the floor. His jaw clenched at the sight of you in front of him, your body laid out beneath his, completely bare except for your underwear. His hands moved slowly, as he grasped the back of your thighs, his thumbs pressing gently into your skin. You reached for him, your fingers tracing up his forearms, craving for him to return to where he had been just moments ago, the anticipation winding tight in your stomach. He leaned back down towards you, bringing your legs up over his broad shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he settled between your thighs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your knee, the warmth of his breath sending a shudder through you. His grip on your thighs was firm but careful, as his mouth moved up towards your underwear, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin, leaving a whisper of friction that only added to the tension that coiled deep in the core of your stomach. Your fingers tangled into his hair again, pulling gently, wordlessly begging him to continue. You could feel him smile against the skin of your inner thighs, enjoying how desperate you were becoming.

“Bucky.” You whispered, your voice breaking with such need that it almost burned through your body. He looked up at you, his darkened eyes gazing into your soul, reading you like you were an open book. His lips parted slightly as his right hand left the top of your thigh, skimming his fingers over the damped fabric of your underwear.

“So impatient.” He murmured, trying to keep his voice from wavering, attempting to keep the dominance in his tone, even though it was becoming harder and harder with every shaky breath you took. His lips brushed over the fabric, breathing out against your arousal as your thighs tightened on his neck, a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Bucky, please…” You begged, your fingers pulling on his hair, the teasing pushing you over the edge. A smirk ghosted across his lips at your pleas, and then with an agonizing slowness he hooked his fingers into the fabric of your underwear, dragging it gently to the side, baring you to him completely. His eyes flicked up to yours, his pupils blown out enough to where you were almost unable to see the ring of blue that surrounded it, and in that moment, you could see that he was as desperate as you were. Then finally, he pressed his mouth against you.

The first touch was barely there, a soft kiss placed deliberately beside where you needed him the most, to tease you, before his lips parted and his tongue dragged up your slit, not wanting to hinder himself any longer. Your head fell back against the pillow, a choked gasp escaping your lips at the sensation and warmth of his mouth wrapping around your clit, humming at the way your thighs flexed against his face, rubbing against his stubble. His tongue continued to circle against the bundle of nerves, his eyes burning into your skin, watching as you arched your back, grinding yourself on his mouth, wordlessly begging that you wanted more. His right hand slid up to your core, coating his fingers in your arousal before slipping two of them in with ease, looking at the way your mouth dropped open as he curled them inside you, finding a pace that matched the way his tongue worked against your clit.

Your fingers continued to tangle deeper into his hair, but before you could pull, his vibranium hand wrapped around one of your wrists, pulling it away gently, feeling him pin your arm down against the mattress beside you, sliding his fingers down to intertwine with yours. The contrast of the heat that was pooling in your stomach and the cold of his hand sent a shiver through you, heightening every moment, every touch, and every movement he made against you, unraveling you piece by piece.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, the pressure in your lower stomach growing unbearable, his increasing pace pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel the way you clenched around his fingers, and how you trembled beneath him, rocking against his mouth.

”Bucky-“ His name left your lips in a strangled breath, your gaze returning to his, realizing that he had been watching you this entire time, enamoured by your body and the way it reacted to him. His grip on your hand tightened, grounding you to the moment, your legs clenching around his head again just as his tongue flattened against you and his fingers curled a little more inside you, picking up the pace. For a split second he took his mouth off you.

“Let go for me sweetheart.” He instructed, his voice laced with such need and devotion that you could feel your entire body tense up, feeling his mouth returning to your clit once again, his tongue working against you with such purpose that all the air in your lungs ceased to exist. Your thighs twitched against the sides of his head, his lips wrapping around your clit with a slow and deliberate pull, which caused the tension in your stomach to snap.

A sharp moan tore through you, as he pressed his face against you even more, allowing himself to feel the way you shuddered beneath him. The air crackled faintly, as static danced along your skin, noticing the way Bucky’s arm plates flickered a light blue for a brief moment. His grip on your hand tightened, and his movements didn’t falter, allowing himself to slow down just enough to guide you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, until your body finally relaxed against the mattress, utterly spent.

Gently he pulled away from your soaked core, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh, before removing his glistening fingers from you and sitting up slightly. His lips were slick with your arousal, and the expression on his face was something between pride and awe, as he crawled back on top of you, caging your body in his warmth.

“You were incredible.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the sweet reminance of you being tasted on his tongue, “You did so good.” He added, bringing his fingers to your mouth, watching as you sucked the rest of your arousal off of them, your tongue carefully flicking against them.

“Christ.” Was all he could manage to say, as he slowly pulled his fingers from your mouth, letting them drag down your swollen lower lip, watching the saliva glisten over the reddened skin where you had been biting. The hard outline of him pressed against your thigh as he shifted above you, bringing his mouth to yours again, wanting to savour every kiss you gave him. His dog tags grazed the middle of your chest, cooling your overheated skin which now had a faint film of sweat forming on it, as you let out a soft moan when he rolled his hips against your aching heat, pressing hard so you could feel him. Bucky pulled away from the kiss, almost with a disappointed look on his face, a moment of realization shining in his eyes.

”Shit…Y/N I don’t have condoms.” He whispered, putting his forehead onto your collarbone, breathing heavily, trying to steady himself. You smirked at his despair, as you laced your fingers into his hair and tugged it so he could look at you.

”I have an implant, Bucky.” You informed, watching the relief wash over his face, a long sigh escaping his lips.

”Thank god.” Was all he could say before sitting back onto his knees, moving quickly to rid you of your underwear and himself of his cargo pants and boxers. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness as he shifted his weight to take everything off all at once, and also just enough to knock the first aid kit and the metal bowl of glass right off the bed.

The sharp clang causes the both of you to freeze, as Bucky’s eyes flicker over to the mess before returning to you, waiting for your reaction, watching your hand come up to cover your mouth to stop a laugh from escaping it.

“Real smooth.” You teased, hearing him let out a breathless chuckle.

”Not my best moment.” He admitted with a crooked grin, rubbing the back of his neck, bringing his hand over to touch your thigh. You reached up to wrap your hand around his forearm, before pulling him towards you.

”I find it kind of endearing that you’re all nervous and flustered.” He let out a quiet laugh, as he settled between your legs once again.

“You make it hard to keep my composure.” Your fingers skimmed up his arm, feeling his bicep twitching beneath your touch, while he adjusted himself against you, bringing his vibranium hand up to your throat to hold it gently, tilting your head up to meet his eyes before his mouth captured yours again in a hunger filled kiss, feeling your hips raising to meet his, in a silent plea. A low groan escaped him as his length grinded against your wet heat, attempting to hold himself back for just a few moments before he got lost in you. He pulls away from your lips again, leaning back so he can line himself up with you. Your eyes trail down to his cock, seeing that it’s already glistening with precum, the tip a light red, practically begging to be seated inside you. He’s way above average, and the way he pumps himself in his hand almost makes you come right then and there. He could see the lust in your eyes, the way your mouth opened just a little at the sight in front of you.

“You sure you can take me sweetheart? You’re already shaking.” He pointed out, a teasing smile coming up on his wet lips.

“I need you Bucky…Please…” The words fell from you in a whimper, as his vibranium hand slid from your throat to cup the side of your face.

“Okay, okay, I won’t tease you anymore…Relax for me.” He whispered, as he aligned himself with your entrance, coating himself in your arousal. You could feel yourself clench around nothing in anticipation for him, feeling as he gently pushed into you, the delicious stretch was just enough to make you gasp, and tighten around him, your eyes closing to take all the sensations in at once. Bucky leaned onto you, his lips brushing against yours.

”Look at me,” He ordered softly, “I want to see those pretty eyes while I’m inside you.” You moaned at his comment, bringing your half-lidded, pleasure hazed gaze up to meet his, as your jaw went slack, feeling him pushing deeper, inch by inch.

“That’s it,” He praised, “You’re taking me in so well, and you’re so fucking tight…All for me.” He was breathless, continuing to move slowly, his pelvis finally meeting yours when he bottomed out. He gave you a gentle kiss, like he was rewarding you for listening to him, a soft moan escaping your throat. Your walls fluttered around him as he drew back a bit before thrusting forward, hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur.

”Oh my god Bucky…” You whimpered, his hand coming up to hold just above your stabilizer, a smile coming up on his lips as he repeated the same motion, pulling the same reaction from you.

“There you go,” He coaxed, “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” You could only nod, your nails digging into his shoulders, dragging them down his back.

”Say it, sweetheart…Tell me how good it feels.” He whispers, his breath hitting your lips as he continues to move, pulling out just a little more, bringing his hips to yours again just a little harder, eliciting another gasp from throat.

”You feel s-so good.” Your words caught on the sheer pleasure of the way he filled you, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back.

”That’s my girl…You were made for this weren’t you?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear, savouring the way you writhed beneath him, reacting to his movements and words. He pressed another kiss to your lips, pulling his hand from your neck, and sliding it down between the both of you to press just above your pubic bone. The added pressure made every movement of his hips feel like explosions throughout your body.

“You feel that hmm? How deep I am inside of you?” Your walls clenched around him, as your eyes closed again, another strangled moan escaping into the room, your nails dragging across his skin again.

”Bucky, o-oh my god.” Was all you could manage to say, your legs locking around his waist, your abdomen tensing beneath his touch. He began to pick up the pace, the both of you exchanging breaths and gasps into each other's mouths, as he nipped at your bottom lip gently.

”You’re so fucking perfect.” He praised, feeling your fingers curl into his hair, trying to ground yourself against the overwhelming heat of his body grinding into yours. His lips traveled along your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, sucking the sensitive skin, putting a mark on a spot that would be visible to everyone, snapping his hips against yours, earning another cry from your lips.

“I love fucking hearing you.” He whispered, devouring every reaction you gave him, your walls clenching around him, throwing off his rhythm for a moment as he brought his face back up to yours. “You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?” He asked, watching you nod frantically, unable to focus on the task at forming words. He removed the pressure he was placing above your pubic bone, only to bring his fingers to your swollen clit, pressing against it. Your body arched against his, as he began to draw tight, slow circles around the bundle of nerves.

”Come for me Y/N…Let me feel it.” His voice cracked, his breath ragged. Before your brain could even register his words the pleasure ripped through you, as your body shook beneath his, your nails now digging into his flesh, causing him to gasp at the sharp sting. Your vision was blurred, and you could’ve sworn you felt a few tears fall out of the corners of your eyes as you clenched down harder on his cock, another static pulse igniting from you, wrapping around Bucky’s arm and fading out quickly. He kissed you again, consuming you completely, bringing his hand back up to your neck just to hold it, feeling your pulse beneath his fingertips, picking up the speed of his thrusts, the pace becoming rougher and more desperate. You grabbed onto his vibranium hand, gasping for air.

”I’m gonna fill you up so much that I’m gonna be dripping out of you for days.” He growled, tightening his grip on your hand, as the burning tension in him finally snapped, the hand on your neck tightening for a brief moment, his body stiffening above you. He let out a long groan against your lips as he spilled into you, bucking his hips towards yours to push the warmth of him deeper inside, fulfilling his promise. The weight of him sank against you as his head dropped to the crook of your neck, kissing any portion of skin that he could reach.

A minute passed, maybe more, as the both of you laid there, catching your breath, while he softened inside you. He kept his hand at your neck, his thumb idly tracing over your pulse, while his vibranium fingers remained intertwined with yours, not wanting to pull away just yet. You tilted your head back against the pillow, as you let out a breathless laugh, breaking the silence that had settled between you. Bucky lifted his head slightly, eyebrows raised, his lips twitching at the corners.

”What’s funny?” He asked, as you turned your head to look at him, amusement dancing within your tired eyes.

”That tone you were using was so fucking hot.” You could see he was amused by your admission.

”Really?” He asked, his smirk growing wider and wider.

”Yeah…I mean I knew you could be confident, but that? Holy shit Bucky.” He laughed at the way you were rambling.

”I didn’t know you liked being talked through it like that, I was just kind of filling the silence.” He responded, watching as your eyebrows raised.

”THAT was filling the silence?!” He shrugged.

”Just got creative. It was really easy too, cause you looked so pretty under me.” He complimented, pressing a kiss against your lips, you hummed.

”Well consider me very appreciative of your sudden creativity.” You murmured.

”I guess I’ll have to add it to my sex repertoire for next time.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”You want there to be a next time?” He laughed at your shock, as his hand tightened around yours.

”Oh Y/N, if you give me a few minutes to recover that next time will come really quickly.” He commented, earning a loud laugh from you.

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

[kleptokure]

Deceit's Favorite 🃏

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN!Reader

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

This is bad, you thought to yourself. The outcome of your arrival in Beast-Yeast is far worse than you would have ever thought.

Yes, you expected to encounter the Beast with Deceit engraved into their essence, but within the hour you stepped foot on the foreign terrain? You were not prepared to reunite with your old friend all of a sudden.

Being one of the first cookies to be given a Soul Jam, you assumed going to Beast-Yeast would not be a challenge for you. Yet current circumstances prove you incorrect. Now you wish you stayed in Crispia, where the air is not so bitter.

As much as you would love to rescue Pure Vanilla from his absolute contrary personified, there is an obstacle surrounding your shelter.

You are well aware that Gingerbrave and the gang are accompanying Pure Vanilla Cookie, and a battle of them versus one mere cookie seems like an easy fight. But Shadow Milk is a special cookie, which is known to most who are aware of his being. The beast knows the trauma his main opponent withholds and would not hesitate to use it against him.

Speaking of Shadow Milk Cookie, you are currently pondering over how he located you in the first place. Your expectations were for his full focus to be on his "Soul Jam thief," but it appears your dough, and crumbs, is much more important in his reality.

Surprisingly, his encounter with you was far from destructive. In all honesty, you will admit it was leaning closer to bittersweet.

Shadow Milk Cookie had a lot to say, of course. His words were laced with jeers, flirts, yet betrayal at the same time. Though he did say something along the lines of forgiving you for not standing by his side eons ago.

It comes as hard to remember the exact words, as your mind is fuzzy with all this information. You might be concentrated on the romantic parts of his speech more than you should be.

Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt stop, hearing knocks on the front door to your hidden hideout. It must not be so hidden if the one cookie you scurry from has managed to locate you. Shadow Milk seemingly possesses eyes all over the place, though you could have predicted that part.

There is no point dragging out the eventual conversation awaiting you pair. With that said, you pick yourself up and walk towards the door.

Having opened the door with a rigid gaze, you find there to be no cookie to return your stare.

Great, another trick. You should have guessed that. Now what? Is he going to be inside your house when you turn around? Candlelight dinner with an empty seat calling your name?

Before you get the chance to close the opening, a piece of paper finds its way slapped onto the middle of your face.

With dread, you tear the sheet off and hold it before your eyes, reading the text it has engraved into itself.

It's... an invitation? To a show, to be exact. The reading says,

"YOU, yes, YOU are invited to a one of a kind show!

Don't be late, as I’d be very upset if you were.

From your dearest jester. XoXo <3"

You feel a warmth in your dough from the heart included at the bottom of the sheet. You almost tore the paper just to rid of a feeling caused by him of all cookiekind. The weather here has to be the cause of your sickly feelings.

In any other situation, you would refuse without a second thought (that's what you tell yourself). But Pure Vanilla is walking a path of danger, and you will do what you can to change that for your friend.

Even so, the candlelight dinner you expected to occur now comes as more preferable.

Looking further down, you notice the time the show host requests you arrive is a few five minutes away. He was kind enough to give you a step-by-step map to the location.

The short notice matters not, as you have nothing better to do. Spending all this time huddled up in a random shack is not what one would call time well spent.

Gathering yourself up, you take you and your crumbs out into the eerie outside of Beast-Yeast. With the map given, you follow the path, each step closer to meeting the volatile cookie of deceit.

It is nothing less of a short trip, arriving at an isolated place hidden by the trees. The wind brushes by to rustle the decaying leaves. There is no more than 10 seats placed in an organized manner in front of a puppet stage, even though you are sure to be the sole cookie watching his upcoming act. Alongside the marionettes he controls, of course.

Finished with taking in the environment, you walk towards your seat before a familiar voice stops you in your tracks.

"Well, well, well. Lookie who finally decided to show up!"

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. If you had fallen to his side long ago, you would say the sight of him takes your breath away. But that would be silly to even think about at the moment.

"...Shadow Milk Cookie."

"I know, I know, saying it never gets boring, amirite?" He chuckles, floating in his casual manner to give a little twirl.

"The STAR of the show has arrived! Oh, but am I talking about you, orrrr am I talking 'bout me?" Shadow Milk sends a small wink your way. It seems like now that reunions have passed, getting comfortable with you comes natural to him.

"We need to talk—"

"Now, now, take a seat. The crowd is trembling with excitement!" A selected puppet appears next to you, hand pushing you to your spot. A front seat right in the middle. Aren't you just the luckiest?

Even though more crucial topics could arise, Shadow Milk Cookie is determined to get his way. You can do nothing but comply.

You should raise your weapon to save cookies from his future plans. But that all comes to a stutter whenever you see his face; his very pretty face. Your gawking gets cut short when a spotlight is directed on the act before you.

"Once upon a time, there were two cookies. Two cookies who were veeeeery in love, might I add!" He stupidly makes the two puppets kiss, creating a few mwas for extra effect. The brainwashed cookies around all "aww."

If it were a cliche romance story between two unknown cookies, you would not have been bothered. Yet shown by the cutouts he made quite well, the two cookies in specifics were no other than you and Shadow Milk Cookie. Must he make this insufferable to sit through by bringing up feelings from the past?

"They were busy cookies, too. Like, all of the gnats around depended on them!" You dislike the use of the word gnats, your iced eyebrow furrowing.

"But oh dear! One day, a certain cookie got tired of those puny creatures, never appreciative of what was given..." The cutout of Shadow Milk Cookie is seen with angry eyebrows. It's almost laughable.

"Soooo, Shadow Milk Cookie stopped helping out the doughbrains. All of those ungrateful cookies deserved to be crumbled instead!" His voice takes on a more passionate tone. Cheers of agreement erupt from the tiny, feigned crowd.

"Shadow Milk Cookie tried to reveal to his beloved partner the deception in reality, but guess what?" You already anticipate his next words.

Your hands clench into fists; the memories of the exact scene he portrays pouring through your head. Shadow Milk is not the lone cookie whose face comes to mind. The other beasts, whom you were close with, make an appearance too. Their faces of shock at your disloyalty still upset you to this day.

"HEY! Eyes up here, silly! I’m not done yet!" Shadow Milk Cookie snaps you back into attention. Making sure he has your full focus, which he adores, he continues on.

"Ehem. But then... [Name] Cookie BETRAYED ME! Yes, ME, out of all cookies! When I was so loving towards them!" The crowd of puppets gasp, mutters heard along themselves.

"Oh, the terror, the drama, the heartbreak—"

"Shadow Milk Cookie!" You interrupted his sob story, which is when you jumped out of your seat. Listening to his narrative for any longer is not what you would describe optimal.

The jester releases giggles, storing away his puppet show with a poof. His dough in the air, Shadow Milk flies over to you.

"Wooow, big reactions from the crowd! Didja love it? I can tell you loved it." He bats his multicolored eyelashes at you, a twinkle of amusement shining in his eyes.

"Stop with your child's play. There are crucial subjects to speak of!"

"Mmmm, like what—Ooooh! Are you talking about that Soul Jam THIEF? Awwwh, are you offering to help me take em down, maybe? You are just the sweetes—"

"No. You need to stop what you plan for Pure Vanilla Cookie." Shadow Milk Cookie rolls his eyes at your heroic words, showing he dismisses your request.

"Ugh! Honey, are you really siding with HIM?" His tone suggests he believes he is in the right.

"Tsk, I know he'll ultimately turn into me, but why not have the original? HELLOOOO, I’m right here!" His hand waves in front of your face, as if trying to rope you back into reality.

"You'll bring Earthbread to ruins! Your Soul Jam was taken due to your own villainy, Shadow Milk. Leave Pure Vanilla alone," you spoke with a stern tone, like it would ever leave an effect on the cookie floating before you.

"Oh, [Name] Cookie, how they've corrupted your sweet mind..." He looks into the gloomy sky, feigning a face of reminiscence.

"Hmmmmm, maybe, just maybe I'll listen to my dearest star if they apolooogizeeeed!" His words are nothing but lies, but fooling you at least once is his on his bucket list. It wouldn't hurt to give it another shot.

"...Apologize? For what?" Seems like your interest is peaked!

"For what?! There are many, many, maaaany things for you to grovel about, ya goof!" His face is just close enough to catch a whiff of his sweetly scented dough.

"But, I suppose for, y'know, not being there when I got out of that stupid tree!" He decided with a tilt of his head.

"What? I am not the one who sealed you in there, even though it was well deserved," you replied. Shadow Milk Cookie decided to ignore that last part.

"No, no, not that! Don'tcha know how sad I was when I got out of there?! I looked for your face between all those pathetic faeries, but you went GHOST!" He places his hand over his chest like the drama queen he is.

"How could my favorite cookie miss my long awaited return!" He cannot be serious, but deep down, you know he speaks with his crumbs included.

A simple sorry is all you have to say, and it isn't like losing a bit more of your dignity would hurt. For your fellow cookies, you tell yourself.

"Fine. I... apologize for missing out on your reappearance." Shadow Milk Cookie's façade of misery is gone in a snap. Instead, a large, toothy grin covers his face.

"Now, you will leave Pure Vanilla Cookie with his Soul Jam intact, yes?"

"Ah, you don't know how long I've awaited to hear that come from your lips!" Ignoring your question entirely, Shadow Milk nuzzles his cheek against yours, similar to a cat. You yourself are unaware of why you failed to pull away.

"Shadow Milk Cookie," you repeated, as he decided to leave you unanswered. He huffs before giving you a proper response.

"Right, right. I'll leave Silly Vanilly alone, all because you're such a good cookie!" Most of you refuses to believe him, but for now, gratitude will be expressed on your side.

"Thank yo—"

"UNDER ONE CONDITION!" Witches. There never fails to be a "condition" with this cookie. You remained silent, waiting for his next words.

"I. Want. A. Kiss!" With each word, he positions himself even closer than he previously was, the blueberry aroma he carries wafting your way.

He is far from surprised when your mouth remains closed. You can get a little shy at times, he would say. In truth, you really are just that incredulous.

"Earthbread to [Name] Cookie! Do I gotta repeat myself?" He laughs, finding your current expression to be hilarious.

Regaining your state of mind, you find yourself unsure of what to say. Of course you should decline without a second thought. THE Shadow Milk of all cookies is asking you for a kiss! Who in their right mind would say yes?

Oh, but as the case may be, you were never in your right mind.

"I..."

"I, I, I." Shadow Milk Cookie mocks you, yet it is endearing in his own way.

"C’mon, you know you love me! After all, I can recall certain events that would deem us a bit more than the rivals you act like we are," he chirped, making your mental state even worse as the warmth of his hand lands atop your shoulder.

You want to rid of those memories, you've attempted! However, it is much simpler to say than to do when trying to erase experiences with the one cookie you have ever cherished.

This is why you keep your identity hidden, why no one is aware of the power you hold underneath. It would only lead to more questions of the beasts back then, and that leads to prying about Shadow Milk Cookie.

You will admit that your relationship with Shadow Milk was very different compared to now. He and you shared many tender memories. A couple instances were slightly too tender to label you pair as mere friends. However, the both of you were put under too many responsibilities to ever have a chance to change close friends into something more.

Although, that never eliminated the love floating in the air, and it surely did not rid of the rushed kisses taking place in empty classrooms.

While memories from the past appear, feelings from back then aren't too far from showing up as well. You are very knowing of what said feelings were in specifics. Arising emotions can go for both you and Shadow Milk Cookie, but facing that is mortifying.

The sudden movement of your hood being pulled away struck you back to life.

"Pssh, what good will this hood do? I want to see your entire lovely face when our lips meet!" Shadow Milk Cookie brought his levitating to a stop while you were distracted, standing right before you.

"Who do ya really think you’re hiding from in this old hood? Me? Hahaha, that's hilarious! Perhaps I ought to dress you in attire matching my own?" Your stomach feels heavy, and you hate the fact that you cannot discern whether it's with butterflies or dread. Maybe a mix of both.

"You must promise to not bring harm upon any cookie." Now you're making conditions, but you know you only say them to ease your conscience regarding your soon betrayal of the others. Asking the Cookie of Deceit to make a promise has a predictable conclusion.

"I've been trapped in that cursed tree for so long, deprived of touch I longed for from you! Must you make your beloved wait any longer?"

You can't. As pathetic as that sounds, you cannot leave the beast to wait. That being mentioned, you press your lips to his smooth ones, your partner squeaking from your bout of boldness.

Perhaps Pure Vanilla Cookie can find it in his dough to forgive you for your greed. He should come to know that Shadow Milk is a very manipulative cookie.

Or maybe you never put up much of a fight to begin with.

Shadow Milk melts into you afterwards, returning your kiss with more power than you gave. It's clear to see just how eager he was to have you back in his grasp.

His arms hold a tight grip around your neck, putting the entirety of his weight onto you, with one leg lifted into the air per usual. Repeatedly giving you small kisses afterward, Shadow Milk can't help but giggle.

Underneath, he's giddy at the fact he managed to slip under the walls you placed for him, which, if you asked him, such barriers should be nonexistent for him, your dear soon-to-be spouse.

Besides that, now he's certain to recruit you towards the livelier side of the beasts! You might've refused to call yourself such a term at first, but it was inevitable.

He can't wait to show you off to every cookie on Earthbread, to flaunt how you discovered the lies of the world and came into his loving embrace willingly. Your duo comeback will shake every crumb without a doubt.

Pure Vanilla Cookie's face will be priceless! With you here now, the finest performance he has ever hosted can only be awaited.

He hopes those doughbrains are prepared for a major plot twist.

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | taking away their food - tiktok trend

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (comment if you'd like to see other drivers or feel free to drop into my inbox!) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested) : taking away their meal while they are still eating to see their reaction...

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 3490

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : when i tell you i love these tiktok trend requests, i love them...! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were on vacation at a beautiful beachside resort. unlike max, who preferred to stay offline, you were chronically online and had seen the recent trend of taking away people’s food while they were eating. what better way to have some fun than to try it on your husband?

max had a relatively short temper, but he was always patient with you. that’s why you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when his food was suddenly taken away…especially in an expensive restaurant.

after placing your orders, you excuse yourself. “i’ll be right back, babe, just have to use the restroom.”

instead, you hurry over to your waiter, who isn’t too busy at the moment. slipping her a generous tip, you ask, “while he’s eating, can you take away his food?”

she laughs, immediately catching on. “i’ve seen the trend! i’d love to do it—especially to max.”

trying to contain your excitement, you make your way back to the table, casually setting up your phone to record. the food arrives, and you both dig in.

as you eat, you casually chat about the upcoming f1 season. “are you excited?” you ask between bites.

“yeah, but testing is gonna be interesting. new regulations could change a lot,” max replies, focused on his food.

then, right in the middle of a bite, the waiter swoops in and takes his plate away.

max freezes. you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“what the hell?” you say, feigning confusion.

max blinks before his expression shifts. “yeah, what the hell? i want to speak to their manager. what are they, fucking idiots?” his voice rises, his irritation clear.

that’s it—you can’t hold it in anymore. not wanting the staff to get in trouble, you call the waiter back, who quickly returns with his dish. “my apologies,” she says, trying to keep a straight face.

before max can get another word out, you burst into laughter. “it was just a prank, my love. an extremely funny one at that.”

max sighs, shaking his head. “you know i was hungry…”

you roll your eyes. “we had a snack before coming here. don’t lie.”

he huffs, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitching. “you’re lucky you’re my wife and not another driver.”

you grin. totally worth it.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

“are you excited to see the family again?” you ask lewis as you adjust your dress, glancing at him through the mirror.

lewis nods, holding out his tie. “always excited,” he says, smiling as you step closer to help him fix it.

you both make your way to the family dinner, where you're greeted warmly. everyone loves lewis so much that they always prepare a vegan-friendly meal just for him—without making a fuss about it.

at the gathering, you and lewis naturally drift apart. he’s with your father and uncles, deep in a discussion about sports, while you join the women in the kitchen, chatting and catching up.

your cousin pulls you aside, giggling. “have you seen that tiktok trend where you take their food mid-meal just to see their reaction?”

you smirk, already plotting. “oh, i have an idea.”

once everyone is seated and eating, conversation flows easily. then, mid-meal, you casually get up, walk over to lewis—who’s completely engrossed in a conversation with your uncle—and, without a word, take his plate away.

you turn on your heel and walk straight to the kitchen, leaving him staring after you, utterly speechless. the entire table falls silent. the women bite their lips, trying not to laugh, while the men exchange confused glances.

lewis clears his throat, placing his napkin down. “if you all will pardon me for just a second.”

he follows you into the kitchen, where he finds you at the sink, rinsing a plate. his brows furrow, but there’s amusement in his voice. “love… what are you doing?”

you don’t turn around just yet, keeping up the act. “what do you mean? i thought you were done.”

lewis tilts his head, his expression both concerned and affectionate. “darling, i’d barely even touched my food.”

you finally turn to face him, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “i know,” you admit, pulling his plate out of the microwave with a grin. “i just wanted to see your reaction.”

lewis exhales a deep sigh, crossing his arms. “and what exactly did you think was going to happen? that i’d sit there, starving, while you pranced around with my dinner?”

you shrug innocently. “honestly, i thought you’d be more dramatic. maybe throw a little fit, demand justice, give a speech about how a man’s meal should never be taken from him.”

lewis raises a brow, lips twitching with amusement. “oh, so you expected a whole performance?”

you nod. “at the very least, i thought you’d stand up on your chair and make a passionate plea for your food’s return.”

lewis chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

you hand him back his plate with a cheeky smile. “and yet, you married me.”

he takes it, setting it down on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “mm, don’t remind me. i think i should’ve put ‘no pranks’ in the vows.”

you gasp in mock offense. “excuse me? that would’ve been a dealbreaker.”

lewis laughs, resting his forehead against yours. “then i guess i really am stuck with you.”

you grin. “lucky you.”

he shakes his head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before picking up his plate. “lucky me, indeed. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’d like to actually eat my food before you come up with another ridiculous idea.”

you smirk, watching as he walks back to the table. “no promises.”

ʚ・george russell

george loves your home-cooked meals. after a long day of racing and testing, he always comes home with an empty stomach, ready to devour whatever you’ve made.

and lucky for him, despite spending most of your day rotting in bed on tiktok, you still managed to cook one of his favorite meals. so, when he walks through the door, you greet him with a warm smile, already setting the table.

“smells amazing,” he sighs, dropping a kiss to your forehead before heading off to freshen up.

once he’s cleaned up and comfortable, you both sit down and start eating. conversation flows easily as he tells you about his day—mostly car talk that you only half understand but love listening to anyway.

then, mid-meal, right when george is in the middle of a big bite, you casually grab his plate and stand up.

“i’ll just be right back,” you say nonchalantly, walking toward the kitchen.

george freezes, fork in midair, watching you disappear with his food. at first, he just blinks, processing what just happened. then, he calls after you.

“love?”

you stay silent, waiting.

another second passes.

“babe?” his voice is a little more confused this time.

still nothing from you.

now you hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up, followed by hurried footsteps coming toward the kitchen. you grab a spoon and take a big, dramatic bite of his food just as he walks in.

he stops in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring at you like you’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“love,” he says, slow and measured, “what are you doing?”

you make a big show of chewing, eyes closing as you hum in satisfaction. “mm. wow. this is really good.”

george blinks, looking between you and his stolen plate. “yeah, i know. that’s why i was eating it.”

you sigh, shaking your head. “honestly, i don’t think you appreciated it enough. i just had to double-check how good it was.”

he folds his arms. “by eating my dinner?”

you nod, taking another bite just to test his patience.

george lets out a long, dramatic sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “after everything i’ve done today—hours of training, media, testing—this is how you treat me?”

you smirk. “think of it as a lesson in patience.”

“oh, i’m very patient,” he argues, stepping closer, eyes narrowing. “but i will be getting my food back.”

before you can react, he lunges for the plate. you try to dodge, but george is quicker. he snatches it back, holding it above his head like a trophy.

“ha!” he exclaims victoriously.

you pout. “that was rude.”

george smirks, taking an exaggerated bite right in front of you. “oh wow. this is really good.”

you gasp. “now you’re just mocking me.”

he winks. “just had to double-check how good it was.”

you groan, swatting at him as he laughs and walks triumphantly back to the table, plate in hand.

“love you,” he calls over his shoulder.

you huff, crossing your arms. “yeah, yeah. enjoy your stolen dinner.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos thought of you as a saint—you could do no wrong in his eyes. and honestly, you could probably count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten mad at you… actually, scratch that. it’s zero.

this man loved, and he loved hard.

one of your favorite things to do together was cooking, but nothing beat grilling outside when the weather was hot. it became a little tradition—firing up the grill, making burgers, and just talking about the most random things.

today’s topic? trying to convince carlos to leave formula one so he could stay home with you every day.

“mi amor, that sounds like a great idea, but…” he gestures dramatically toward your beautiful backyard, “we would not have a home if i did that.”

you sigh dramatically. “we could live a simple life. maybe raise some chickens, grow our own vegetables…”

carlos gives you an amused look as he flips a burger. “you scream when a bug lands on you. you think you’re ready for farm life?”

“fair point.” you nod solemnly, making him laugh.

once the burgers are ready, you both sit outside on the deck, enjoying your food and the warm evening air. conversation flows as usual—lighthearted, full of teasing and laughter.

then, mid-bite, right when carlos is at peak burger enjoyment, you casually reach over and take the burger straight from his hands. not the plate. just the burger.

you don’t even wait for his reaction before standing up and walking into the house, taking a big bite as you go.

carlos blinks, completely caught off guard.

“amor?” his voice is laced with confusion and betrayal.

you don’t answer. you just keep walking.

then he snaps out of it.

“amor!” he calls louder, pushing his chair back as he stands. “come back here!”

you hear his footsteps on the deck as you disappear into the house, stuffing another bite into your mouth just as he reaches the doorway.

“oh, you’re in trouble now.”

you sprint toward the kitchen, but carlos is faster. within seconds, he wraps his arms around you from behind, tackling you onto the couch as you let out a squeal.

“no! carlos! it’s mine now!” you laugh, trying to take another bite, but he pins your arms, shaking his head.

“i trusted you,” he says dramatically, his face hovering inches from yours.

“and you love me,” you counter, mouth half full.

he sighs, looking at the last pathetic remains of his burger in your hand. “that was my best one yet…”

you pat his cheek, swallowing. “it was amazing, really.”

carlos groans before flopping off of you, lying on his back on the couch with a pout. “now what am i supposed to eat?”

you sit up, stretching. “i guess i could make you another one.”

he side-eyes you. “you guess?”

you grin. “fine, fine. i will make you another one.”

carlos huffs but follows you back to the kitchen, watching as you start grilling again. after a moment, he walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles.

you smirk. “i know.”

carlos laughs, kissing your cheek before finally getting his fresh, non-stolen burger.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles leclerc is the definition of polite. he treats everyone with kindness, never raises his voice unnecessarily, and avoids causing a scene at all costs.

so he definitely wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen to his dinner—at his favorite restaurant, no less.

before walking to your table, you quietly slipped the waiter a generous tip and explained your plan. the waiter grinned, fully on board, and assured you they’d pull it off perfectly.

by the time you sat down across from charles, you had to bite back a smile.

as you waited for the food to arrive, conversation flowed easily. you leaned in slightly. “do you think i should start traveling with you during the season?”

charles’ eyes lit up. “of course,” he said immediately. “i would love that. and we could bring leo too—he’d love it.”

you laughed. “leo on a private jet, living the life.”

charles nodded. “exactly. he’s already spoiled, but this would make him impossible to deal with.”

the food finally arrived, and as always, charles looked delighted as he took his first bite. you chatted here and there, but you were mostly just waiting for the moment.

then, just as charles lifted another forkful of food and put it into his mouth, the waiter swooped in and—without hesitation—took his plate away.

charles froze mid-chew, blinking in confusion.

you clenched your jaw to keep from laughing as his brows furrowed, his eyes following his plate as it disappeared.

“amore,” he exhaled, swallowing his bite as he turned to you. “what the hell just happened?”

you shrugged, pretending to be just as confused. “i have no idea.”

charles sighed, rubbing his forehead before muttering something in french. you caught bits of it—something about karma for not finishing his meal last time.

still holding back your laughter, you watched as he looked toward the waiter, debating whether or not to say something. charles wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this? this was testing his patience.

“excuse me?” he finally called out, voice still polite but definitely stressed.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. letting out a laugh, you waved the waiter back over, who immediately returned with his plate.

charles looked between you and the waiter, realization dawning. “no…”

you grinned. “oui.”

the waiter set his plate down. “désolé, monsieur leclerc, but it was a request.”

charles turned to you, eyes narrowing. “baby…”

you beamed. “it’s just a prank!”

he stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. “you…” he pointed his fork at you, squinting. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you leaned forward on your elbows. “i know.”

still mumbling in french about betrayal, charles picked up his fork again and resumed eating while you giggled, already thinking about what prank to pull next.

ʚ・lando norris

lando loves eating out with you—especially at small, lowkey urban spots where no one bothers him and the food is always good.

tonight was no different. after placing your order, you both slid into a booth, and lando immediately started rambling about something completely random.

“so i was thinking,” he said, gesturing animatedly, “if we ever get, like, really lost somewhere—like, no signal, no gps—do you think i’d be able to navigate us out just by looking at the stars?”

you snorted. “lando, you can’t even navigate a grocery store.”

“that’s different,” he argued. “they put all the good stuff at the back on purpose. it’s a scam.”

before you could argue further, your food arrived—a fresh, steaming-hot pizza.

“finally,” lando sighed happily, grabbing a slice immediately.

you both started eating, chatting between bites, until suddenly, just as lando reached for another slice, the cashier you tipped earlier casually walked over, picked up the entire pizza, and walked away.

lando froze, mouth slightly open, staring at the now-empty table.

“hey, i was eat—” he started, but before he could finish, the guy was already gone, disappearing into the back.

his head turned slowly toward you, utterly confused. “what… just happened?”

you glanced down at your own half-eaten slice, pretending to inspect it. “do you think they took it away because the pizza was bad?” you asked, struggling to hold in your laughter.

lando frowned, tilting his head. “i mean… maybe? but we already ate some. wouldn’t they have warned us first?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized it too late—maybe it’s, like, radioactive or something.”

lando blinked, deep in thought. “well… i feel fine. for now.”

then, shaking his head, he pushed his chair back. “i’ll just go talk to them—”

before he could stand, the cashier reappeared, grinning as he placed the pizza right back on the table. “enjoy your food.”

lando just stared at the guy, then at the pizza, then at you.

“were we not already…?” his brows furrowed.

that was it. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as lando continued to sit there, completely lost.

“what?” he asked, blinking. “what’s so funny?”

still laughing, you managed to get out, “i—i told them to do it. it was a prank! for tiktok!”

lando’s jaw dropped. “you set me up?”

you nodded, still giggling.

he exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “wow. betrayal. right in front of my pizza.”

“i had to,” you grinned. “your face was priceless.”

lando grabbed his slice, taking a big bite while still glaring at you playfully. “i hope tiktok enjoys this, because i’m not sharing my pizza with you anymore.”

you gasped. “lando—”

“nope.” he turned away, holding his slice protectively. “find another victim.”

you just kept laughing as he ate, shaking his head at you—but deep down, you knew he’d totally get you back for this.

ʚ・oscar piastri

there’s nothing better than a good pasta, so while you and oscar were in italy, you decided to have some fun. recently, you’d been seeing the tiktok trend where waiters take food away mid-meal, and what better place to pull it off than in the land of pasta itself?

tipping isn’t really the norm in italy, but you still managed to sneak the waiter a little cash. using your very broken high school italian, you did your best to explain the prank. it wasn’t easy—your italian was atrocious—but thankfully, after showing him the tiktok, he got the idea. with a knowing grin, he agreed.

when you and oscar sat down, you could barely contain your excitement. the pasta finally arrived, steaming hot, and you both eagerly dug in.

as always, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. oscar was rambling about something—probably a weird f1 fact or a debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza—when you glanced at the waiter and gave him a small, knowing smile.

that was his cue.

without hesitation, the waiter swooped in, grabbed oscar’s plate, and walked away.

oscar froze, fork still mid-air, a single strand of pasta dangling from it. his eyes followed his plate as it disappeared into the kitchen.

“did… did my food just get stolen?” he asked slowly, turning to you with the most genuinely confused expression you had ever seen.

you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. “maybe… do you think something was wrong with it?”

oscar frowned, looking down at the pasta still on your plate. “but we’re eating the same thing…” he blinked. “was mine poisoned or something?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized too late and saved your life.”

oscar squinted at you. “so they just left yours?”

you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. “maybe they don’t care if i get poisoned.”

his jaw dropped. “that’s messed up.” he started shifting in his seat, glancing toward the kitchen. “i should probably go—”

just as he was about to stand up, the waiter returned, placing his plate back down in front of him with a grin. “buon appetito.”

oscar looked at the waiter, then at you, then back at his pasta. his face was priceless.

“wait, what?” he looked genuinely lost. “was i… not supposed to have it? were we not already eating?”

that was it—you burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

“oscar,” you wheezed between laughs, “it was just a prank! for tiktok!”

he blinked. once. twice. then, realization hit.

“oh, my god.” he groaned, rubbing his face. “you set me up? in italy?”

you wiped a tear from your eye. “yes, and it was so worth it.”

oscar shook his head, sighing dramatically before twirling some pasta onto his fork. “unbelievable. i thought i was actually banned from eating for a second.”

“you should’ve seen your face,” you giggled.

he rolled his eyes, taking a bite. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you smirked. “i know.”

oscar chuckled, pointing his fork at you. “but just so you know, you will pay for this.”

you shrugged, twirling your own pasta. “looking forward to it.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[harmonyrae]

Crimson Intimacy

Synopsis: Ovulation week is intense, but shark week is... something else entirely. When Sylus finds out, he is more than happy to help alleviate those symptoms.

Content Warnings: Mention of menstrual cycle, feminine products, blood/bleeding, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, angst, before & after care, PiV, cream pie, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.8k

You toss the blanket away, the heat overwhelming. You turn to your side, clutching your stomach. Your cramps have been worse this month and the hot flashes were getting on your last nerve. 

You feel your thighs glide against each other, you assume the sweat has built up and you’ll have to take another shower to cool off. You huff a breath, blowing a stand of hair away from your nose - there’s no shot you’re risking a sneeze right now. You hear the door creak open and you squint your eyes against the stream of light pouring in. The light frames his form in the doorway, his silver hair damn near glowing. 

“Still sleeping, sweetie?” 

His voice was so gentle, you wanted to cry. Of course you wanted to cry, everything made you want to fucking cry. God, you hated this. It was your first weekend in two months you had completely off and you were so excited to spend time with Sylus. But here you are, curled up in a ball in his bed, downing pain meds every few hours and biting your tongue to avoid snapping at your patient boyfriend. 

“Not anymore… I’m sweating again…”

Sylus pushes the door open wider before making his way to you, letting the hall light guide his way. He switches on the bedside lamp and leans down to place a kiss to your damp forehead. His eyes trail down your body and stop at your waist. His eyes widen, his calm expression returns just a moment later, but you’d already seen the momentary change. You glance down and your heart drops.

The bedding beneath your hips was stained with blood along with your satin sleep shorts. The comforter was also spotted with blood and damp with sweat. Tears stream down your face and you can’t suppress a sob. You were already boiling, but now your cheeks felt positively molten. 

Sylus lifted a hand to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumb.

“No, stop. Don’t cry.”

“But yo-your mattress and th-the sh-sheets… I’m so-sorry…” You manage to stutter through your sobs.

“It’s not an issue. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” 

He gathers the comforter and tosses it to the floor. He swiftly untucks the bedding and wraps it around your waist before gently placing a hand to your lower back, trying to help you shift off the bed. You squirm against his touch, your skin slick with sweat and, most likely, blood. He doesn’t pull back, helping you to the edge of the bed. You stand and turn and look back at the mattress, but Sylus circles behind you blocking your view. He guides you to the bathroom and closes the door. He leans you against the counter and prepares the shower.

He doesn’t run the water for too long, knowing the steam will only make you warmer. He places a lavender aromatherapy shower tablet on the floor of the shower, the scent already filling the room and making your shoulders relax. He turns to you slowly and starts to peel away the sheet.

“I can do it, you’ve done too much already.”

“Kitten…”

His warning tone shuts you up immediately. You know he isn’t going to leave you alone. He folds the sheet and places it on the counter before kneeling to help you step out of your sleep shorts. 

“I should probably use the…” You don’t look up at him, you don’t want to explain that you were wearing a tampon and an emergency pad that you bled through. You couldn’t believe this was even happening, this hasn’t happened in so long and never at someone else’s house. 

“Okay, come on then.”

He leads you over to the toilet and you finally look up at him with a grimace. He looks at you and smiles sweetly - damn him for being so nice about this. You want him to be upset or disgusted. His gentle demeanor was making your other symptoms worse… 

Defeated, you sigh and wiggle your way out of your bloody underwear. Your emergency pad was soaked and you cleared your throat as you striped it off and folded it. You hover over the toilet and carefully tug your tampon free before sitting. Sylus brings the trash can to you and you toss your products away. 

He goes to the sink and wets a washcloth, returning to clean your hands and wipe some blood off of your legs while you sit. A cramp pinches your side and you double over, groaning quietly. Sylus rubs your back and continues to clean your legs.

When you’re finished, he helps you stand up and moves to lift your satin sleep tank. You grab his wrists suddenly, eyes widening as you look up at him. Your chest tightens and you grit your teeth. He needs to leave and let you deal with this, you will only embarrass yourself further.

“This isn’t the first shower we’ve shared, sweetie. Let me help you.”

You don’t loosen your grip and Sylus leans down slightly to try to meet your gaze. However, you’ve found a very interesting spot on the floor and don’t intend to stop staring at it. 

“I know, I just… I’ve got this. Go.”

Sylus pulls a hand out of your grip and lifts your chin. He puts more force behind his movements sensing your reluctance to work with him. Your eyes flare with defiance and he watches you pout for a moment before leaning closer.

“Why are you pushing me away?”

You let out a frustrated breath, you didn’t want him to think you were pushing him away, but the alternative… You felt your cheeks heat once again as you felt a familiar throb between your legs. You quickly pull your bottom lip between your teeth and pinch your brows together trying to look angry rather than unbelievably horny. 

Sylus tilted his head, analyzing your response. His brows lifted before knitting together in a subtle confusion. He let his fingers drift from your chin down to your collarbone, goosebumps rising beneath his touch, shivering slightly.

“I’m not, I just want to take my shower in peace.”

His fingers don’t stop at your shoulder, he trails them down your arm before placing his hand on your hip. You squeeze your thighs together, the throb getting stronger and harder to ignore. You lift your eyes to meet his eyes once more and notice he is staring at your thighs. Oh great, he noticed. You try to back away, but he grips your hips with both hands and pulls you closer. 

“When were you going to tell me cramps aren’t the only troublesome symptom you deal with?”

You shake your head, frowning at him.

“I just don’t want to bleed all over your bathroom, I’ve already ruined your mattress and sheets and –”

Sylus cradles your head as he leans down to capture your lips with his. His soft lips slide against yours as his tongue presses to urge your lips apart. You gasp as you open your mouth and his tongue slips inside. His tongue dances with your own, pulling a needy moan from you. He pulls back, his smug smile would usually irritate you, but tonight… 

“Sylus, please don’t tease me…”

Sylus tugs at the bottom of your satin top and pulls up slowly. With your willpower dwindling, you don’t stop him. He pulls it over your head and drops it to the floor before tugging his shirt off. He pushes his sweatpants over his hips while he backs you closer to the shower door. Your chest heaves as you take in his naked body.

“First we get you cleaned up, then I’ll take care of you.”

“Sylus! I –” You gasp.

“You what, kitten?”

You place your hands against his stomach, your eyes seemingly unable to stop staring down at his cock. Your chin trembles, he reaches around you to open the shower door. You feel a cool mist coat your back and the lavender overwhelms your senses.

“It isn’t – I’m – I’m bleeding and it’s –”

“You think I’m afraid of a little blood, is that it, kitten?”

“Well obviously it isn’t just 'a little blood’ now is it?”

You couldn’t hide your frustration any longer. He was acting like it wasn’t a big deal and the mess didn’t bother him. You had just bled all over his bed and he knew how embarrassed you were, why was he being so annoying?

“You bleed every month. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. There’s usually not much I can do to help you through this time, but this… This I can help you with.”

You open your mouth to protest, his hands circle your shoulders and he backs you into the shower completely. As the warm water rushes over your skin, you close your eyes and tilt your head back. Sylus runs his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. You meet his eyes again, seeing them glow in the dim light. You knew he was hungry, that he wanted this too. 

You look to the floor and see the water run pink. The dried blood slowly rinsing away from your skin. Sylus lathers soap onto his hand and kneels before you, washing your legs and thighs until the water runs clear. You rested your hands against your stomach, feeling bloated and self-conscious again. Sylus recognized that look, he moves your hands away and places kisses across your stomach and hips. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning against the shower wall and sighing. His hands caressing the backs of your thighs. 

“Sy…”

He stands, turning you around so you lean against his chest, your hands braced against the shower wall. He works the soap over your shoulders and arms before moving to your stomach. He makes his way up your torso until he cups your breasts, his thumbs lightly flicking over your extra sensitive nipples. You moan as he pulls you under the water to rinse before lathering the soap across his own body. You turn back around and run your hands over his chest and arms, the water running down your hands to rinse the soap away. Sylus hums as he feels your hands roam and settle low on his hips. He dips his mouth to your neck as he turns off the water. Your back arching off the tile wall, pressing your chest against him. 

“I’ll make a mess…” You whisper.

He grabs a towel and places kisses along your shoulder while he dries you. 

“I don’t care if I have to buy a whole new bed, you’re not going to sleep tonight frustrated or embarrassed, do you understand me?” 

He scoops you up and carries you to the bed bridal style. He sets you down and walks over to a cabinet across from the bed. He takes out a thick blanket and spreads it out on the mattress. You blush and glance down at your naked body. You hated the idea of ruining his things, even though you knew you couldn’t control it. Sylus immediately caught onto your concern.

“It’s a special blanket I got a few days ago. The tag said it was ‘the most reliable waterproof intimacy blanket on the market.’ I guess we will put it to the test, won’t we?” 

Your eyes widen as you glance between the blanket and Sylus. He bought a sex blanket? 

He presses you back onto the bed, you crawl on your elbows backward, squeezing your thighs already worrying about leaking. Sylus leans down over you, one hand settling by your shoulder while the other rests on your knee.

“I want you to relax. Let your body respond how it needs to.”

Tears pool in your eyes, no one had ever been willing to do this when you were on your period. And he was being so gentle and sweet, wanting you to enjoy yourself without worry. Your clit throbbed, aching for friction. You hated how horny you’d get during your period. Everyone talked about ovulation hormones, but no one talked about period hormones having a similar effect. The simplest thing could make you moan and tremble. 

You lowered yourself to the bed, letting your back settle into the silky blanket. Sylus crawled on top of you before pulling your leg open. You let your hip relax as he looked down and trailed his fingers down your inner thigh. You close your eyes and hold your breath, still worried he would change his mind once he felt your blood on his hand. 

“Breathe, my love…” His warm breath tickles your ear, his voice low and husky. His fingers finally touch you where you need him most. 

His fingers circle your clit, already swollen from being frustrated for the majority of the day. He pinches lightly, your hips lifting off the bed in response. Every part of your body was more sensitive and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding, loudly. You feel one of his fingers circle your entrance and you tense, he lowers himself to his elbow and dips his head to take your swollen nipple in his mouth. A delicious burst of pleasure spirals through your chest. He licks, sucks and nibbles as he works his finger around your entrance. 

You could feel how slick you were and while you knew it was partially your arousal, you knew you were bleeding. But every time Sylus felt your body tense, he would shift his mouth. He took your other nipple between his teeth and circled his tongue over its peak. The tension melts away as you arch your back off the bed to push your breast further into his eager mouth.

Your hips were stretching wider and wider as Sylus worked you, his fingers dipping inside of you finally. He stroked your sensitive walls slowly, feeling your body writhe and your fingernails dig into his shoulders. 

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, his purposeful touch makes your head swim. You start grinding against his hand. He places his hand flush against you and rubs his palm against your clit. You lift your head to look down, expecting to see his hand covered in your blood, but his lips meet yours and your head tilts back onto the mattress. 

“Do you want more?” He mumbles into your mouth.

“God yes… please…”

Your thrusts match your whine as you dig your heels into the bed to push his fingers further inside of you. Your mind is fighting with your hormones, you want to be worried, but it feels so good you can’t focus long enough to visualize the mess you’re making. 

You whimper as he removes his fingers, he doesn’t let you lift your head, his kiss holding your attention. When you feel the tip of his cock slide along your folds you shake and gasp, your eyes flying open. He presses his forehead against yours, keeping you still. 

“Sy, I need…” 

He slowly presses his cock into your entrance, your body tensing.

“What do you need, angel?”

You can’t speak, your body shakes as he pauses, letting your body relax and stretch for him. You reach your hands up to his hair, still damp from the shower and grab a fistful. You yank his head back and he groans.  

“I need you I need y-ou I need you I need ughh fuck…”

You ramble until he pushes into you in one thrust and bottoms out. You cry out feeling him hit your g-spot immediately. Your chest heaves as your walls pulse, damn near vibrating with pleasure. He tucks a hand under your arm sliding up to your neck and lifts you to where you’ve trapped him by pulling his hair.

“Do you want me to be gentle or rough, angel? Speak to me.”

You place kisses over his cheeks, his nose, over his eyelids. Your hands loosen and you let his hair go, locking your arms around his neck and your chest against his.

“Sy… ahh mhm…”

You can tell your body wouldn’t mind if he fucked you so hard you splattered the walls and couldn’t walk tomorrow. But hearing him call you angel, his voice gentle and his attention being solely on you and making sure you don’t get distracted by… wait, what embarrassed you earlier? You just wanted him close to you, touching you, holding you, whispering to you.

Sylus moans and pulls out to slowly push back inside of you. There’s no resistance, he slides in and out with ease, but he keeps his movements slow so you feel everything. In a stark contrast to his cock, his mouth races across your chest. He captures a nipple and suckles before nipping at your collarbone or fully biting at the fullness of your chest. 

Your hips press into the mattress and you work to keep your legs open. You want to wrap your legs around him and thrust, but he’s fucking you so perfectly and you don’t want to ruin it. Yes, you want to flip him over and ride him so hard until he has tears in his eyes. You want to deny his orgasm until he is begging for it and his fingers are digging into your hips leaving instant bruises. You want to get on all fours and tell him to fuck you from behind, wrapping your hair around one of his hands while he chokes you lightly with the other. 

“You want me to be rough, don’t you?” 

Your eyes fly open and you stare at him. He traces your forehead with his nose, his breath tickling your lashes.

“Your tense, restless. Tell me what you fucking need.” 

You bite your lip and moan breathlessly as he rams into you harder and harder.

“Fuck m– ugh… fuck me fuck me until– until I scream…” 

Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He drops you onto the mattress and plants both hands by your head. His knees push your thighs upward. He rises to his knees, his cock still buried inside you. He reaches down and pulls your legs up, holding your legs flush against your chest. His hand wrapping around your thighs, his grip tightening as he pulls out only to ram back into you harder and harder.

“Moan for me, whimper and moan until you can’t stand it and then when you’re about to come, scream. Scream my fucking name. I want to hear you when you come all over my cock, angel.”

He doesn’t talk to you like this in bed normally. But your neediness is different. It’s not desperate, it’s commanding. Maybe it’s the hormones? It doesn’t matter, he is matching your energy and giving you exactly what you need and nothing less. The aggression is mutual and it’s making you feral.

His pace is rapid and you can’t close your eyes. Your gaze locks onto Sylus, his cheeks red, sweat trickling down his forehead, his eyes half-closed, his mouth slightly open as he gasps. Your moans and whimpers turn into grunts and gasps, your body wriggling to get away from the intensity building at your core. 

Finally you scream, you scream so loudly you know Sylus’ neighbors would probably think he is killing someone... again. Sylus doesn’t slow down, he releases your legs and leans down to grip your hip. You come hard, your orgasm intense and overwhelming. You scream his name over and over and then you feel his movements stutter. His hips snap forward and he groans your name just as loudly. You feel the heat of his release spreading and leaking out of you already. He forces himself to continue to move his hips, working you both through the high. 

You lift your arms over your head and grip the edge of the mattress above you. You’re almost tempted to pull yourself away from him as you near the point of over-stimulation. Your swollen clit and tender pussy ache from the exertion. It’s a welcome ache, but you can’t handle much more.

Sylus pulls out and nearly collapses on top of you, letting out a sigh before nuzzling into your neck. You press a sideways kiss to his temple as you rub his back slowly.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m perfect.”

He lifts his head and looks at you. He smiles and shifts his hips, this is when you feel how slick your bodies are against each other. Your stomach tightens. You try to lift your head to look, but Sylus stops you. He hovers over you and looks at you with a stern expression.

“You’re going to close your eyes and I’m going to carry you to the bathroom for another shower, okay? I’ll take care of everything once you’re settled in the living room.”

“The living room? Oh god, I ruin –”

Sylus reaches down to cup your pussy, the sudden touch making you jump and whimper.

“What did I say, kitten?”

“I – you…”

He circles your sore clit with the pad of his finger, pressing harder than he needs to. You pull your hips backwards into the mattress, groaning.

“Okay, okay! I didn’t ruin anything.”

“We are going to the living room to watch a movie with dinner. The bed is fine.”

You sigh as he kneels over you. You stare at the ceiling trying to stifle the temptation to look. You finally close your eyes and feel Sylus pick you up, once again carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. 

“And don’t even think about peaking over my shoulder.”

You giggle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your eyes closed. You hear the bathroom door close but you keep your eyes closed reveling in the tender moment. Sylus walks right into the shower and turns it on, letting the water warm as it spills over your skin. He holds you for a while, twisting from side to side to let the water rinse over your skin. He puts you down and takes care of you, washing your hair and using your favorite soap. 

The rest of the night you are at ease, satisfied and sore. Sylus holds you in his lap after dinner, holding a heating pad to your lower stomach and feeding you chocolate covered strawberries. You lean your head back against his chest and fall asleep. When you wake up the next morning you are in Sylus’ bed with no blood stains in sight. Sylus walks in the bedroom with two cups of coffee and sits down next to you. You smile and sit up to wrap your arms around him.

“What’s this for?” He whispers into your hair, wrapping an arm around you to hug you back.

“I just… Last night… Thank you.” 

“Of course, my love. Now that I know your symptoms, I can better take care of you.”

He leans back and winks at you. You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile. 

“You’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

Sylus chuckles before pulling you into a gentle kiss. You’ve never felt so safe. The embarrassment you felt, a distant memory. Sylus never judged and he loved you no matter how messy you might become. Yeah, he can be insufferable if he wants to. After last night, he’s earned it.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Joker Junior Tim but Tim's afraid of Harley and JJ loves Harley because that's his mom.

When Harley first found out that Tim was JJ and that the bats were the Waynes, she was torn. She wanted so bad to spend time with her son and to apologize, but she couldn't. She felt horrible for what she did.

Reason being is the first time she confronted Red Robin, or Robin at the time, while on patrol. She had found him on a roof and he had been so terrified of her he was shivering. Her heart hurt for Tim, who was scared of her.

She left him alone after that, always choosing to avoid the bird's line of sight and hearing range so he wouldn't be scared. It wasn't until one of the other bats talked to her, Oracle, that she decided to try to get close to Robin.

At first she started by sitting at the farthest end of the building where Tim was perched. She watched him for a few minutes before looking away. This happened several times.

At the point he stopped shivering and looking as tense as he used to be, she moved closer. Day by day, week by week, month by month, she got close to him till she was sitting next to him.

They had started up a friendship then. She would do most the talking, making motherly gestures here and there, till one day, he fell asleep on her. She had taken him to her house that winter night and tucked him into bed, kissing him goodnight and setting out breakfast, hot chocolate, and fresh clothes along with a bag the next morning.

He was scared, of course, this was a villain's anti-hero's house, you couldn't drop your guard too much.

He knew he shouldn't have trusted her.

"Goodmorning, kiddo. I made you some pancakes and hot chocolate. There's some clothes on the bedside and a bag for your costume, Timmy, that way you don't have to go home in that."

He stood frozen as he stared at the large stack of pancakes laid out. He slowly moved forward, taking the fork next to the plate and took a piece off of it.

He hesitated when biting it, but when he did, nothing was wrong with it. It tasted amazing.

He had almost choked several times when he scarfed down the pancakes, the best pancakes he's ever tasted if he does say so himself(sorry Alfred), and thanked her.

He changed and put his stuff in the bag before getting ready to leave, but he stopped himself.

He looked at her, and she looked confusedly at him.

"About the Joker.."

He didn't need to finish his sentence, she already knew.

She sat down and motioned him to sit in the seat next to her, so he did.

She didn't look him in the eye when she spoke. She talked for a while, told him about her relationship with the Joker, about how sorry she was about what she helped do to him, everything.

After that talk, their relationship changed. They became closer, the bats noticed.

Alfred, Bruce, and Barbara seemed indifferent to the change in their relationship, because they knew what happened. They were happy about it, even, about how well their relationship has grown.

At one point, though, things changed again. Red Robin was taken and electrocuted, triggering JJ to cone out. The bats were stuck, unable to do anything without JJ doing something in return, Red Hood was frozen in place despite himself.

It wasn't until Harley entered the scene that JJ ran to her, hugging her, calling her mama that he calmed down enough and started crying.

"Oh Junior, it's okay baby. Mommy's here."

Harley kept saying those comforts until Ivy arrived and swept them away.

"Hey!" Nightwing called out, prepared to go after them. Batman, however, stopped him, stepping up to Ivy.

"Have you got him?" he asked her. "Yes, we'll take care of him until he's better. Tomorrow's your only time I'm allowing you in my place to give him things. Your next visit is when he asks." She warned him. He nodded in return, unphased by her threat.

"B, why did you let them take him."

"There are things you don't know, about the time when Red Robin started out as Robin." Was the simple answer Batman gave them before he left, clearing out the area.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Winter Break | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Sam never considered himself a parent in any capacity. Sure he worked at a school but all that meant was that his clientele were snot-nosed brats, who are the perfect consumers for his on-campus shop. It was a great way to make money and how could he ever be bored when he could be let in on the dramatic inner workings of the student body. Usually he was generally indifferent with the mages he sold to but that was when they were just the selfish mean-spirited boys he dealt with.

“Oh thank you Mister Sam!”

It wasn’t a breath of fresh air to actually have one of the students respect him. It was just weird. Of course, his shadows clearly thought otherwise whispering excitedly about their misadventures to become a new student. It was against his will that he’d heard that they hailed from another world and were sharing the place of a student with a little monster. Now he couldn’t deny it was interesting that they’d united the students without magic. What kind of average human were they to actually force these wild kids to obey without collaring them?

“Do you think (Y/n) will like this? They have been saying how hard it is navigating Ramshackle at night.”

“Hmph do what you want.They should be happy we’re getting them anything.”

“We?”

“Yeah I mean I’m hear anyways I might as well.”

Perhaps it was these first years, that were just opening their horizons to someone new. A lesson he’d seen hundreds of arrogant seniors learn on their internships. That there were plenty of people not proficient in magic and that were prone to be peaceful. Heck, he wondered if they’d act the same with those preppy RSA kids.

“Evening Sam, I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Help you? What a surprise! Usually you’re the one coming to me to offer your help, Azul.”

“Haha very funny. Now what do you think is a good gift for someone you want to like you?”

Nevermind. All of them were losing their minds and it was all over the one they called the prefect. By the time he’d begun to accept that this was a widespread phenomenon he found himself beginning to change as well.

“Hey I just got a shipment of that tuna, Grim likes.”

“Thanks Sam but how did you know he preferred this kind? He always gets so pouty when I guess.”

The Shadows.”A…little bird told me.”

That fact kept him up at night. Specifically because he was wondering why it became a routine for the shadows to return with a full-on report on the prefect’s day before they helped him reload stock. Or why it irked him so much more to know that Crowley had time in the day to spend hours browsing his shop's shelves while the prefect finished a spending sheet the headmaster should be typing. 

Guess that’s why he was so curious about those anticipated weeks.

“Where are you going for the Winter Break?"

You stopped in the middle of the motion of putting the box on it’s shelf. Staring blankly through the opening of the shelf as if you’d find the answer there. Mentally searching you found there was no set answer for this; barely you could recall the time you spent in Epel’s hometown but other than that no one had invited you anywhere. Not yet at least. 

“Yeah hench-(Y/n) where we goin’?” 

Grim’s question reminded you that Sam was waiting. Continuing to put the box in it’s place you stepped away back to the unpacked boxes. 

“I don’t know…I just thought we’d stay here with the faeries like Crowley would want.”

Sam scoffed, “You shouldn’t be worrying about that bird. Is there somewhere you want to go?”

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head; well-aware he was hidden behind a fully stocked shelf. With a nearby box-cutter you opened the box beckoning an annoyed Grim to take it’s contents and put them where they should be. 

“What about you, Sam? Anywhere you want to go?”

The famous redirect. Sam was prepared. While he wasn’t as easy to derail as his older coworkers or as confrontational about it when they did notice he wouldn’t be deterred so easily. 

“Of course once the shop is closed I’m headed back home.”

“Oh where’s that?”

“Porto’bliss, its not the fanciest place but it has it’s moments. If you’d like I wouldn’t mind you coming with.”

The open-ended invitation made your heart swell. A break sounded great but a break without Crowley and his chores sounded lovely. Even better instead of slowly coming to miss your friends on an empty campus you could discover a new place with someone who had your best interests in mind. You’d have to think about it though, wouldn’t want to be hasty in case something really important needed to be done on campus.

“What do you think, Grim?” Sam asked opening a familiar pack of sweets that had the monster beaming.

“That sounds like a great idea! (Y/n) let’s go!”

Peeking from behind your shelf to see Grim dig into the opened bag, Sam mischeviously shrugs when you send him a look.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

_____________________________________________________________

Mozus Trein set a book down with more force then he needed to. His grey eyes daring a glance at the happy facial expression of the prefect lightly petting Lucius. He looks away before you can see where the cat is glaring back at-just as disturbed as his owner. Looking past the professor it’s Grim sleeping on the bookshelf you’d organized minutes ago. Figuring it’s better then him whining about your helping Trein you continue on talking.

“Yeah while I was helping stock with him, he offered we go to Porto’bliss. Have you ever been?”

The professor returned his gaze back to the essay he was grading, lightly coughing into his gloved hand a nice way to hide his grimace.

“Yes my wife and I traveled there for an anniversary. It has a very rustic feel,” he listened to you hum. Quickly adding on,” but we never went back. Mostly on the account that a lot of the…facilities are outdated.”

He fought the triumphant twitch on his small smile practically hearing the disgruntled “Oh” coming from you. The professor felt a slight twinge of guilt exacerbating his experience there. In truth it was only one establishment like that but until you’d go to prove him wrong he’d stand by his experience. 

“But if you’d like a modern, family-filled environment my daughters are joining me at our estate in the Shaftlands. If you’d like to come.”

He adored the unfiltered joy on your face at his offer before it shriveled with that wonderfully loathsome politeness lowering your expectations. “I appreciate that but I wouldn’t want to get in the way. This is the only time your daughters get to see you after all.”

The warm chuckle from the older man had you looking up,” Oh no they’d be overjoyed if you came. They’d adore having someone younger than I around.”

That wast the most polite way he’d thought of masking the real reason they wouldn’t mind. He didn’t dare look at the growing pile of letters from his daughters. Rarely were they inclined to respond to his letters, hoping he’d switch to a more modern medium. But the second his writings started to describe an overworked, otherworldly prefect they began responding in a heartbeat. 

Do they have mother? Have they spoken of one? 

Are you bringing them home? Please say you will! We’d spoil them to bits!

They won’t have to go back will they? A normal school is probably safer then that school!

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPAPA!

PLEASE Papa let’s give (Y/n) a real home!

He was sure he raised his girls right. He really did. He also taught them to be women unafraid of others and determined in every aspect of their life. It begged the question if that determination translated to abducting relocating the prefect in the shoddy abandoned dorm. This was nicer. A peaceful invitation that you could unfortunately decline accept and slowly integrate yourself into the Trein household. 

If he was successful, he’s certain Crewel and now Sam would sneer in his direction. The former would whine argue that his actions would be the opposite of caring for the prefect but he’d disagree. This was caring. Embracing them into a family that not only would be nurturing but would give a support system for their inevitable graduation from Night Raven College. For as much as he…mildly enjoyed teaching such unruly youth a magicless student wouldn’t have many business prospects. Not counting the leering royals you seem to attract. What he was offering was a fall-back, security for you and your cat-like companion. Even Crewel would have to relent this would be much better.

“What do you think Lucius? You okay if we come with?”

“Mrrow.” The purr and fluffy weight leaning into your hand told you exactly what he thought.

Once again you had a lot to think about it. 

“Take your time (Y/n), me and Lucius will be here when the other students leave so you won’t miss saying goodbye to your friends.”

______________________________________________________________

“You’ll be coming with me to the Queendom of Roses of course.”

“What?”

Crewel sighed waiting for the troublesome mutts to leave with the chattery monster turning to you once again.

“I heard you talking about what you’d all be doing during the break. I'm reminding you that I’ll be taking you home…with me.”

Crewel wasn’t embarrassed at all. In face he prided himself on his initiative, earlier in the year he would have broken mirrors with his own bashfullness. Something about expressing any affection to someone who could communicate in the same language as him and return their own form of praise without a wagging tail. It was like highschool all over again. But he was better now, perfect material to guide an overly mature child that needs his guidance. He doesn’t know if he was ready for the ‘f-word’ but if you happened to slip up and call him that after receiving a beautifully wrapped gift with a color scheme that matches the decor. He was just the best wasn’t he.

“Actually Professor Crewel, I’m going to have to decide I’ve gotten a lot of offers and I think it’d be really mean if I didn’t–”

You were still talking but Crewel wasn’t listening. Who in all of Twisted Wonderland would have the gall to overstep the offer only he was worthy enough to give. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes, knowing there quite a few dirty mutts who’d jump at the chance to invite his pure, far-too trusting pup into their dumpheaps…or restricting castles he wasn’t ruling out any of that hungry pack. Still he figured he’d ask.

“Who offered?”

You were cowering a little bit; he must’ve come off incredibly harsh. His bad. 

“Um Sam and Trein—”

“Alright get to lunch and eat this time. I’ll ask your guardpups if you have. If you don't, I'm giving you detention.”

He put his hands on the prefect’s shoulders turning them around to leave the empty classroom.

“But what about your offer? Should we talk about–?”

He pat their head and gave one last shove.

“We’ll decide for you pup. Eat your lunch have a good rest of your day. Pack your bags too I have a feeling a decision will be made by the end of the day.”

He shut the door on your face and you rushed to catch the lunch line.

Guess you wouldn’t have to think at all. Oh well makes things easier for you.

__________________________________________________________

If tension was gasoline Crowley’s office would’ve exploded by now. It just so happened his office was the place Crewel decided to confront his coworkers; the only place private enough to discuss where exactly their prefect was going for this break.

“I asked them first. So they’ll be coming with me.” Trein scowled, “Get your feet off the table and I don’t know if where you’re taking them is family friendly environment.”

Sam joylessly laughed,”Family-friendly? Do you call trying to replace your third child with (Y/n) as a family-friendly environment? Yeah Besides I don’t think they they’ll want to spend anything over a day with people old enough to need a diaper change.”

Lucius swatted a clawful paw into Sam’s exposed ankles, scampering quicker than the chasing  shadows that morphed into talons. Jumping up high and near the window hissing pridefully at the shadows forced to slink nearby. 

His cat’s actions lessened the blow of his words but it didn’t denote what was said. Trein knew that was far from accurate but he knew arguing wouldn’t help. Not with those who needed any kind of evidence for their case but Sam wasn’t who he was most worried about.

“On that note, being with someone so close to their age without any adult supervision would be unwise. Seniority aside I believe I am the best candidate. Not to mention I’d be more than willing to invite their friends a couple towns over.”

Sam’s face was twisted in a snarl, an expression Trein would have used if he couldn’t just glare. 

“You forget I am an adult. I don’t need to be geriatric nanny to know what the kid needs.”

“And I am not aiming to replace them at all. I just know it’d be healthier for them not to be alone in a time like this.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.”

A tense silence took over the room. Trein broke it with the authority who usually held over his fellow teachers,”Then we’ll draw lots.”

Sam and Crewel nodded in agreement, demanding to inspect the elder’s methods–promising there's no chance of cheating.

“Wait!” Vargas had been watching the three of them hurl insults waiting for a good time to remind them he wanted to be counted in the running. 

“What about me? I don’t mind taking them with me!”

Trein didn’t look up from the sticks they chosen and Sam just whistled putting his arms behind his head. Leaving it to Crewel to tell Vargas to ‘quiet down’.

“No one in their right mind is letting you take that pup and force them into some weird training regimen the whole break!”

“But I wasn’t going to–”

Crewel cut him off holding his teaching crop threateningly at the P.E teacher, who dejectedly settled back into his chair. Watching mopily as the three teachers drew lots. Sam pulled first, then Crewel, and finally Trein opened his hand. After comparing the sizes of each of the sticks, the winner was decided. 

The door suddenly burst open in a flur of black feathers and the smell of the cafeteria’s sloppy joe–it was Crowley.

“Halt for I have harrowing news about the prefect!”

They all turned to the headmaster they hardly respected and all looked eagerly for the news. Were they hurt? In another overblot? Abducted by some delusional pup again? They all hurried to the headmaster, eagerly awaiting the crow’s information.

“They-” Sam held the rim of his hat in nervousness.

“--in fact–” Trein had outgrown immature nervous habits, still he allowed his finger to tap impatiently.

“are–” Crewel had enough, easily grabbing Crowley’s collar and shaking him accordingly,”Just say it. CLEARLY.”

The snarl from his already snippy employee made the headmaster gulp. Putting his hands up in defense he stopped dragging it out.

“I’ve already planned to take (Y/n) with me. I wanted them to come on vacation with me.”

Everyone in the room curled their lips in disgust, uncaring that they made the headmaster curl into himself and begin crying into his hands. Sam when looked at by the pouting crow he shrugged, “I’d believe you more if you made up something about forcing them to work off some debt you had.”

Trein huffed,”or forcing them to be your unpaid secretary, full-time.”

Crowley struck a dramatic pose, tears conveniently dried,”But aren’t I so kind? To invite them into my nest and take them under my wings.”

Crewel opened his mouth, planning to insult him once again only to be interrupted by the doors opening once again. Seeing the sweaty and out of breath student of Heartslabyul usually right beside their the prefect.

“Pup? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping (Y/n) pack?”

“That’s what I have to talk to you about–” the student with the spade on his cheek was interrupted by a cacophonous sound of thunder rumbling. A quick glance outside pointed to the growing green storm clouds hovering over Ramshackle–the calling card of an unhappy fae.

“Spade, what’s happened?”

Trein’s question had everyone eagerly waiting for the answer from the anxious looking student.

“That cat-guy from RSA took them!”

“What cat-guy?” 

“...Could you mean Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker?”

Deuce snapped his fingers at the name, “Yeah that guy! He took them, their bags, and told everyone they were taking them for the Winter break!”

Deuce could feel a cold sweat trickle from his forehead as the glares and scowls filled the room with a despairful mood. Not that he wasn’t feeling the same but they had much bigger problems than the teachers being on a warpath.

Vargas stood, taking it on himself to get his coworkers to shape up. Not because he was worried their real personalities were coming out but because he knew when it came to tracking time was of the essence. And maybe the prefect would be willing to just choose him if he's the first to save them!

“Alright everyone let’s begin our search at our rival academy. I’m sure they’ll love to know one of their students has kidnapped one of ours.”

Crowley cackled gleefully,”I’d never let them live it down.”

Deuce was pumped about to voice his joy before looking at the storm clouds rumbling closer.

“I’m all for it but maybe we should deal with…that first.” Pointing at the rapidly growing puff of green clouds.

Turns out they’d have a lot to think about before anyone can take you for the break.

Who knew?

[melliemell]

Pairing: Dazai x f!reader

Contents: NSFW, car sex (unfortunately for Kunikida), breath play, dazai levels of whining, but he always gets what he wants doesn't he, Approx. 1.5k words

“Don’t even think about it,” you breathed, grinding your hips against Dazai’s. His mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut as a moan left his lips before it turned into a strained laugh. Dazai guided your hand to his neck. He bit at your lower lip playfully, languid thrusts drawing out your pleasure with every deep stroke. 

“Pretty please?” Dazai whispered to your ear, his lazy smile widening as your fingers grazed the bandages he always wrapped himself in. “I’ll be a real good boy about it.”

“You’ve been anything but for the last half-hour,” you retorted. “I’ll think about it.”

Dazai pouted, his trademark gaze of innocence returning. He knew how to get what he wanted; even if it required you to play this game of fetch every time. Instead, you ground your hips down, enjoying the friction of him bottoming out in you.

The parking lot was empty this late, keeping your undertakings pleasantly obscured under the roof of your car. 

You weren’t meant to be here, precisely. 

Nor Kunikida’s car– it was supposed to be back hours ago. But then again Dazai was ever the opportunist; why waste a perfectly good vehicle when you’ve already used it the whole day to spy on a client? Might as well give yourself a treat for a job well done.

Dazai brushed your hair to the side, teeth sinking into your soft skin. You couldn’t move much, your hips straddling Dazai’s and the steering wheel digging into your back with his every thrust. He was keeping you in place, not giving much of any opportunity even as you wriggled and panted against his lips. 

Postponing your orgasm was becoming somewhat of a speciality of his, especially with how grumpy it got you the longer he played around. That was what he wanted, more often than not. Predicting your actions was easy, and knowing how far to push to reach your breaking point–

easier.

Then he might get what he wanted. 

Your hands drew him closer, your focus waning as the pressure built up again. You weren’t going to let Dazai ruin this one too. Maybe it counted as giving in or perhaps you felt like you were taking control this time, but…

Delicate fingers trailed around Dazai’s neck, making him shudder the moment he realised what you were up to. He wanted it, of course. As much as it annoyed you how desperate he would get only to have your hands wrap around his throat, the pressure building with every second.

You knew he liked the thrill of it. The suicidal maniac in him was ecstatic–playing with life like that. You on the other hand felt your worry building every time he so much as looked at you with that pleading gaze. It was only a play, no real harm behind it.

Plenty of people were into breath play, and yet…it felt different. 

It scared you, sometimes—just a bit.

“Change of heart?” Dazai’s eyes were hooded. He looked beautiful like this, flush all the way down his chest. His hand trailed up your thigh, gripping tightly.

“We make a deal?” you asked, arching forward. He was easy to bargain with, like this. “I do this, and you give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had? No half-assing here, Osamu.”

Dazai fluttered his lashes and his grin turned vicious. “I do as you please, oh great beauty of mine.” And you could only blink your eyes closed, hands wrapped around his neck in preparation.

Dazai raised you up suddenly, his cock slipping out of you.

“Wh-at?” you asked, grabbing into his shoulders for balance. 

“I’m a fast worker, what can I say?” Dazai smirked. 

His hand went to your entrance, drawing slow steady drags of his fingers against your wet pussy lips. The moment his fingers entered you, a shudder crawled up your spine. 

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. His fingers made quick work, moving within your walls and twisting to your sweet spot often enough to make you dizzy. You almost forgot what you were meant to do with your hands.

“Fuck,” you said, trying to force your attention back into focus. 

Dazai was looking at you, enjoying every second of it. 

A few more strokes and his hand pulled away, only for his cock to enter you again, sudden and filling. Your thighs clenched around him, breath coming ragged. The fingers now covered in your wetness went to skilfully move over your clit, thumb rocking back and forth in time with Dazai’s every thrust.

You had to remind yourself to breathe, eyes back to Dazai’s face. He was watching you, head thrown back as a smirk tilted his lips. You could have been a sight to see for all you knew.

But that didn’t bother you.

You reached up, tracing his jawline with both hands before going lower. Dazai’s whole focus was on you, every detail engraving itself in his mind as you wrapped your hands around his neck. 

Such delicate work under these circumstances wasn’t ideal. You felt Dazai try to swallow under your hands, the pressure barely there to distract him. But he knew this was only a warmup. It takes time for you to ease into it; this wasn’t the first time you were hesitant to do this.

Dazai’s cheeks reddened. Slowly, ever so slowly, your pressure increased, and you marvelled at the way Dazai moaned weakly from the sensation of literary being suffocated. 

Dazai’s eyes fluttered shut, head thrown back as his hold on you waist tightened.

He was beautiful like this, so vulnerable and entirely at your mercy. 

You tried to regulate, watching his every twitch and grunt for the air he lacked. You were bringing him to the brink only to relax just enough to get his bearings back together. 

Your legs were trembling from the strain, seeing as Dazai’s trust became sporadic, trying to force out as much of his strength into fucking you. Your lower belly tingled with your release which was steadily building up. 

Dazai’s thumb didn’t stop, his hand going down to your entrance to gather more of your wetness before coming back to stroke at your clit. You could barely breathe at this point.

Dazai looked at you, choked sounds falling from his open mouth even as his upper teeth bit into his lip. He was having the time of his life.

“Good boy.” You smiled, diving for a kiss as your hands squeezed firmer, swallowing Dazai’s whine as your tongue trailed inside his mouth. Saliva trickled down his chin, making him a bigger mess with every second.

You felt his legs spasm, the tension increasing. Your pussy clenched around him, just the way he liked before he was near.

You held him, not letting go even as his belly fluttered, twitching with every strain to push his orgasm forward. You forced him into the seat, Dazai’s neck bared prettily as you hovered over him, the sound of your kissing filling the air almost as much as his rapid trusts as he struggled to reach you. 

“Come on, pretty boy. I’ve got you,” you panted against Dazai’s lips.

Pleasure seeped in, not suddenly this time, but a steady buildup of more more more–and you were cumming, cunt fluttering around his cock enough to force Dazai’s eyes open, staring wide at the rooftop as a pitiful moan vibrated right from his chest. You felt his cock twitch inside you a moment later, his spent shooting inside you, warm and thick.

You only loosened your hold on him when you were sure he was coming down from the high. Dazai’s head lolled to the side, eyes still closed as he breathed hard between coughs for air. He looked utterly exhausted, his face pale with overstrain. He barely had the strength to move, let alone slip out of you. 

Not that you could help, flopping against his chest to breathe in his musky scent. The air around you was hot, almost foggy. Like in those sappy romance movies where the couple run away to their car to finally have some alone time.

Except this one wasn’t yours.

You pulled yourself back, reaching with a groan for your phone. 

“Whatcha doin’?” Dazai asked, kissing at your shoulder. He looked so pretty as he blinked at you, face serene. 

“Looking for a nearby car wash,” you said, forcing your eyes to the screen. 

A silence before Dazai’s hearty laugh filled the space. You looked at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Were you expecting something else?” 

“Not in the slightest,” Dazai said, clearing a tear from his eye. He still smiled when he said, “Kunikida sure has a great friend in you.”

“In both of us.” You leaned in for a quick peck. “Seeing as we’ll be splitting the bill.”

Dazai groaned but it didn’t sound as sincere as he would’ve liked. He pulled you in close, pouting all the while as you pretended not to notice him. He got his way this time around, it’s not like he had much to complain about. 

[riskylittleturtle]

Tendencies - Dragon Sylus

Dragons sleep on their treasures, it's a way of guarding it, keeping it safe from other's and being sure no one can get to it without waking them up. Sylus is that way too, has a little box of his favourite gems and such tucked away under his bed. His greatest treasure though, is you. He sleeps best with his head in your lap or pinning you under his weight as he lays over you. His favourite place to nap is on you, head on your stomach and arms wrapped around your back, your laptop settled on his back as you type up reports. Will stay there all day if you'd let him.

Dragons rarely share their hoards and treasures, in fact they're known to be very protective and territorial over them. When a dragon allows someone access to their hoard it can be seen as a sign of respect and acceptance, but it is most often a sign of courtship. Sylus gives you his black card and tells you to go crazy. With bank systems it's strange to have cash and change on hand, gems and jewelry aside, and so giving you his black card is his way of sharing his hoard with you.

Dragons view having territory and hoards as a sign of power. The more treasures a dragon has, the more territory that belongs to them, the stronger and more respect worthy the dragon is. Sylus is filthy rich. He's the leader of Onychinus and by extension he rules the N109 zone. On top of the Onychinus base he has safe houses all around, places that belong just to him (and now to you). When he tells you to go crazy with his black card it is not only his start to court you through offering you his hoard, it is his way of showing you that he has plenty and that he'd be a good mate for you.

Dragons present gifts and offerings to please their mates. Sylus pampers you. He offers you new weapons almost constantly. If you've ever played the claw machines with him you know if he fails to get a plushie he refuses to switch with you until he's gotten you one. When you return from showering after working out he's replaced your clothes with newly bought of the same thing. He has his chef prepare a full course meal for you, and buys you breakfast. The list goes on.

Dragons take promises very seriously, the idea of breaking a promise to them is worse than almost any crime. Words are an extension of their existence. Sylus also takes promises really seriously. You say "I'll be done in five, promise." and he stares at you like you've just sold off all of his gems and thrown his black card back in his face when it takes you six. Promises don't have to include the word, you tell him "I'll text you tonight." and he's spending the entire night waiting for his phone to ring with that silly little ringtone you picked out.

To a dragon, falling for lies is one of the worst things that can happen to them. Sylus doesn't realise you're lying to him once, as you tell him you aren't injured after a mission - you really aren't, the only evidence of your pursuit a single tiny scratch on your arm that barely even draw blood - but as he see's the cut later, fingers ghosting over the scratch and expression absolutely wrecked because you were injured and he didn't know, because you lied that you weren't and he couldn't tell you were lying to him.

Dragons have very different morals than humans. They're more focused on instinct and self interest. Their morals are very important to them, though dragons have been known to change their morals to better fit those of their mates. Sylus has no problem killing when he needs to, and he doesn't believe too much in the ideas of redemption or people changing. You however, as a hunter, have at least some belief that people can change - you also know that this doesn't apply to everyone, that multiple things have to be taken into account if someone is trying to redeem themselves. You also believe that some people are better dead, but that for some murder is too easy of a way out of things. Sylus doesn't change outright, he still firmly believes most people aren't worthy of second changes. But he starts considering which of his business partners to kill and which to give other punishments to, starts to leave people he might have killed to prevent future problems be as long as they don't intervene with his own plans.

Dragons are (violently) protective of their hoards, mates, and young. They will do anything to protect what is theirs. Sylus originally only had his gems and money (hoards), but then he took in Luke and Kieran (young), and finally he had you (mate). Any slight against what's his is absolutely unacceptable to him. Someone makes a comment about Luke and Kieran's masks? They're never seen again. A thief breaks in to try and steal his jewels? No one who enters the Onychinus base with bad intentions makes it out. A hunter from a different team made a bad comment about you during a mission? They apologize profusely the next day and aren't part of any future mission collaborations with your team.

Dragons view their scales very highly, for a dragon to give someone it's scale means they trust them wholeheartedly. It's a sign of respect, that they are acknowledging you as worthy. A dragon giving you it's scale can be a sign that they view you as an equal, or even that they view you as one of theirs and that they will protect you and answer their call. Sylus doesn't have scales now, but he's given MC both a brooch (from the main storyline) and a feather (the gift interaction).

[occamstfs]

Twink Turnabout

In desperate need of release, dom daddy Rob hits up the nearest twink he can find on Grindr. Arriving at Mattie's though, the king of the gym and femmest of bottoms find their identities realign as they grind a mile in the other's shoes.

Been a minute since I did a steamy one! Here's a muscle theft/role swap, Twink -> Dom and vice versa, hope you enjoy! -Occam

It had been a long day at work for Rob. Going hard at the gym only riled him up more. Thank GOD there’s always twinks down to fuck clicking on his faceless Grindr profile. Checking his pump and changing into a slightly less sweat stained tank, Rob leaves without showering to an uptown address sent by some easy to please bottom. 

There’s little on his mind besides lust as he walks down the city streets, while one bitch in the hand is worth two in the bush, he can’t help but try and cruise on the way. Never know when an even easier fuck’ll present itself, not like he owes anything to this ‘Mattie.’ Rob’s sure the hole’ll find someone else to fill it before the sun rises. Though, smirking, Rob knows no one who’ll be nearly as good a lay as himself.

Today the streets are quiet. Rob returning to Plan A of getting his much needed release, arrives and waits to be buzzed up to the twink’s third floor studio. Opting for the stairs to work up a little more musk, bitches love that, he sprints up in short order and aggressively knocks on Mattie’s door. Impatiently waiting before knocking even more, he takes a few moments to actually look deeper at the twink’s own profile.

Eyes grow wide at what a prize he seems to have caught, assuming he’s not being catfished. Fuck- man’s so fem he might as well be a chick. The trade’s cock throbs against his gym shorts as he bites his lip to distract from his overwhelming lust. Bitch can’t look this good in person, he tells himself. No way. Shifting in place he makes sure his bulge is obvious to make sure that when the door’s answered that Mattie will have no choice but to notice.

Groaning in impatience as his cock only grows harder, the hot headed stud slams his fist into the door even harder. After a second round of this the door opens and Mattie is revealed to be just as, if not more, alluring than his profile suggests. Seeing his pouty lips and an almost translucent nightgown hanging off his thin figure, Rob has to hold back from tackling him at the threshold. 

Looking him up and down with a hunger few can understand, Rob pushes it down and greets him as he would literally anyone else, with a nod and intensive lowering of his already deep voice, he offers a “Sup.” Rob tells himself the blush painted on the twink’s face is from seeing him rather than the makeup it clearly is.

Mattie’s focussed eyes glitter with something Rob doesn’t even try to understand, the words that spill from his mouth are all that matters, “Come on in daddy~” Stomach turning from how much he needs this twink bouncing on his cock, he has no choice but to oblige. 

Following in his footsteps for but a moment, as soon as he closes the door behind them Rob rushes to grab the fae Mattie. Thick sweaty arms wrapped around his impossibly thin shoulders and a dripping bulge pressed firmly into the twink’s back, Rob has no idea in his mind but to get this done quick and dirty. His plans are promptly shot as Mattie turns in his arms and puts a finger to the brute’s lips. 

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves Rob. Wouldn’t want you to have me at anything but my best~” Directing the dom to sit on his bed and wait while he finishes preparing, Mattie delights as the horny animal groans in impatience. Hearing the man constantly shift from discomfort on the bed, Mattie taunts him as he disrobes and takes in his reflection.

Thin fingers trailing down his pale neck as he allows his ephemeral robe flitter to the floor, Mattie’s sharp eyes drift from appreciating his own porcelain face and perfumed locks to staring at Rob squirming on the bed. “So, DomRob2, I take it as soon as you bust a load in my ass you’re back out the door?” 

Almost drooling as much from his mouth as his cock is dripping pre, the top rolls his eyes. Ugh. He can never just pump and dump these days. These fucking twinks ride his ass, they’re just as bad as chicks. For half a second Rob considers his response before realizing he doesn’t care enough to get in the bitch’s head. Mattie seems like he wants foreplay, being honest’ll probably seem like playing along.

Scratching his pubes through his stained athletic shorts he shrugs, “Yeah, that was the plan.” Finally Mattie turns from basking in his reflection, coyly smiling with a dark look in his eyes that Rob simply assigns to hunger. Finally. Small bulge revealed in tight, white briefs the twink saunters over to join Rob on his bed. 

Gently resting his arms on Rob’s back as the top almost vibrates with need, Mattie leans in close. Gently biting his ear, the twink whispers, ethereal, “All I needed to hear.” Rob’s rough hands find the man’s impossibly thin waist as he begins to grind against the jock’s crotch. Thick fingers race down to free his throbbing cop but Mattie reaches down to keep the hands focused on himself, forcing them to cup his thick ass.

Mattie’s wet lips swiftly shift to Rob’s mouth, scratching his cheek against the man’s beard as he does so. Rob’s own mouth twitches as the twink moves to begin making out. Ugh, he hates kissing his lays, just needless distraction from what really matters. His cock. Nevertheless, when Mattie’s pillowy lips find their way to his own, Rob is immediately beside himself in delight at how much he loses himself in Mattie’s mouth as his deep moans echo in the bedroom.

Fingers tracing against Rob’s muscular back as he pulls off the trade’s top, stuck to him with sweat, Mattie continues grinding against the man’s leaking crotch. Ever possessed with his pleasure alone, Rob doesn’t notice or care as Mattie performs his work in silence, completely buried by selfish lust and his own loud, needy grunts and groans.

Aggressively forcing his tongue into Mattie’s mouth as his thick hands creep into Mattie’s tight briefs, as soon as he feels the smooth ass directly, Rob opens his eyes to find Mattie staring directly at him. Pulling back in shock his moans immmediately stop as he grunts out a “what the fuck?” before his hips flex and he loses control. Mattie pushes him back onto the bed as the dom whines and thrusts into his shorts. All the while Mattie continues to grind into him with a grin.

Rob’s voice cracks as Mattie lies down over top of him, aiming to cover the burly man like a blanket with his own smooth body, feeling his cock twitch between two layers of fabric through two layers of fabric. He interrupts Rob before his cracking voice can form words, “Girlll- Thought you were an alpha not a one-pump chump?” Mattie’s taunts can barely be heard by the man as his mouth falls open as he cums loosely into his shorts. Mattie sits up and grins as the real show is soon to start. 

Struck woozy from just how powerful his release is, Rob struggles to sit up. Groaning, his arms feel weak as he pushes up off the bed. Must’ve gone harder than he thought at the gym? It’s not just that though, it’s like he’s completely drained? His legs under Mattie feel similarly tired despite the total lack of effort involved in his brief session with Mattie. Or no, it’s like, Mattie suddenly feels heavier?

Sitting up his arms almost reflexively go to hug the man sitting on his lap before he grimaces. Ugh, what’s gotten into him? This bitch’s mind games got him feelin’ all types of ways. Ignoring the fact that he wanted to embrace, he tells himself he’s gotta get out of here before the twink catches feelings. And then, Mattie pointedy rests on Rob’s crotch once more. And despite cumming seconds ago, Rob’s eyes cross from how pleasurable it is, his cock still rock hard.

Jaw clenched to avoid losing control again, immediately. He pushes down pleasure and turns his attention to Mattie and his blood runs cold. No wonder he feels heavier, he is. Rob gasps as he sees the man smirking as he scratches at his no longer rail thin chest. Briefly biting his tongue, he winks before taunting Rob, “Something the matter Daddy?” The man sneers before leaning in close to rub his whole form against Rob’s bare torso.

Rob feels delirious as his body reflexively moves underneath the force of Mattie’s assault. Eyes focused on the twink’s face he sees the dyed hair revert to its natural color before restyling itself into something far less fem. He feels the scratch of stubble against his cheek as Mattie rubs his face against his, tongue tickling his beard as he can’t help but grind into the twink. 

Weariness still plagues him as Mattie continues to pressure him further, his voice clearly lower as he continues to taunt the man, “Oh what? Too manly to fuck someone who’s not hairless? Or is all that gerar you’re taking making it hard to get it up? Fat lotta good it’s doing haha!” Rob feels the man’s lower torso begin to prickle with hair, tangling with his own thick sweaty treasure trail. Rob grunts out a denial as he tries to fight back against his lust as his cock only grows needier, precum coursing down its length.

Something’s wrong. Every inch of his exposed skin feels more sensitive than it ever has before. He struggles to push Mattie off of himself. Struggling to think against pangs of pleasure, he throws his all into flipping over and straddling Mattie. He should be stronger than this. His arms burn with effort. Panting, he hears his gasping breaths and cries out as his dick is caught at an uncomfortable angle. 

Stumbling back, away from the man whose touch must be doing this, Rob feels his shorts begin to fall, the elastic waistband somehow sliding off his waist. Stumbling off the bed he turns to see his reflection and almost falls over in shock. He sees a man that is not himself. His hands fly to the chest that he has spent years defining, the same fucking pecs that got this bitch to swipe right on him to begin with, he feels them give under his fingers as they continue to atrophy.

Moving upward across the shrinking peaks of his powerful chest, ignoring his thinning shoulders, his hands instead clutch at his jaw. His fingers feel his beard give way to smooth skin as the beard he has used to project what a man he is since he has been first able to grow one begins to turn patchy and thin. Crying out to Mattie, his voice cracks even higher as he struggles to access the rage that has always been second nature, “whAT are you doing to me!? You- you? Fucking-” 

Tears welling up in his eyes, he doesn’t finish the sentence as Mattie rises from the bed, now standing well taller than he was when he answered the door. Rob clearly remembers being a full foot taller, and yet as he turns to see the lanky twink-no-more standing to his new height they make direct eye contact. Dripping with sweat and fear Rob backs away as his cock continues to throb with need that only grows as he sees what a man Mattie is becoming.

Rolling his eyes Mattie makes it clear the changes are not skin deep as his tone shifts deeper and darker, “Don’t know what you’re on about babe? Actin’ all emotional n’ shit.” Rob tries not to stare at the fingers scratching at pits now laden with a forest of hair. Mattie stretches as he begins to saunter over, a world away from the sashay he did on the way to straddle Rob earlier.

Doing a double bicep pose Mattie smirks as his itchy stubble fills into a full chin beard. Rob shivers and gasps as he backs away and stares at the twunk’s newly bulging biceps. At the same time he begins to feel his own arms atrophy, shrinking into two thin sticks that haven’t a chance in hell to push off the growing man now approaching him.

With each step closer, Matt continues to loom higher over him. The sneer on his face only grows cockier as he paws at his growing crotch. Robbie feels an emptiness within him as his still hard dick suddenly can’t keep his shorts up anymore, when they fall he is revealed to no longer be commando though, instead wearing a patterned jock that frames his perfect ass, the only part of his form that seems to have not lost mass.

“Matthew, please can you just give me a sec? I think something isth seriously wrong!” Hearing Robbie’s voice tinged with a new lisp, Matt groans as his little bitch refers to him as anything but Matt. Stuffing his hand into his tight shorts to readjust. Smirking as he feels his hand quickly coated before as his shorts begin to tear from his bulking thighs and bulging cock, Matt allows Robbie the few seconds demand of him. 

Even as he whinily begs for a break however, Robbie wonders why he even needs one. Mouth watering, almost drooling as he takes in the sight of the new Matt, his eyes keep flickering down to the softball sized bulge in his pants. Robbie wonders why he’d want anything but to feel that cock in his ass.

His waifish fingers feeling his thin waist and hairless chest, Robbie chews on his thicker lips as he rapidly begins to forget being anything but Matt’s cock-hungry slut. Leaning against the cold mirror behind himself, Robbie feels himself change into his final form, turning to present his ass; he sees his reflection as he becomes the exact type of twink he once hated. Barely enough muscle to ambulate, only the hint of a mustache on his face and a single hair on his chest. His pale, smooth face burns with blush as he sees Matt’s reflected sneer, hungry. Behind him, inching closer like a predator to prey, his top grows larger. Legs lengthening as feet push wider. His paltry facial hair hangs lower as it grows into a thick beard that even at his most masc Rob could never pull off. Pecs pushing out as they grow a garden of curls. The idea that his hair was ever some highly styled dyed coif is laughable as it pulls into a shorn caesar cut. 

Finally reaching the twink presenting himself in the bathroom, Matt leans over him and whispers into his ear in a voice so deep it sounds like a growl, “God you’re fucking desperate aren’t you?” Robbie only moans in response, so needy it's a wonder if he’s even able to think. Matt’s underwear tears off completely as his cock grows too large to ever be contained and the pair begin the first fuck in their new forms, of their new lives

Sweaty handprints are left in the steamed mirror as with each thrust the pair are more cemented into who they are, who they must always have been. Feeling Matt’s thick pubes against his bouncing ass, Robbie can’t imagine wanting anything else in the world as it almost seems to feel better with each bounce. 

Manhandling his twink as if he were a doll, there is a part of Matt that knows he did this somehow. Forced this hungry twink to know his place, to become his perfect little bitch. Feeling him fulfill his needs better than any of his toys ever could he figures he might as well keep this one around, seems good for this if nothing else. Taking time to admire his thick new arms and heavy pecs in between thrusts, Matt finally cums and becomes the dom top that Rob wished he was. 

The pair awaken some time later in the bed, something in the back of Matt’s head swears this is his apartment but looking around at the gay decor he can’t imagine that’s the case. Turning to look at the still sleeping Robbie with a beauty mask on his face he scratches his pube and laughs at his ignorance, duh- he lets his bitch decorate, anything to appease the princess. Less work for him that way.

Heading out to start his day, early as it always is, he throws on a hoodie and shorts that fail to hide his massive bulge and starts his jog before the sun can rise. Before he even makes it a block his phone rings with the telltale sound of a Grindr notification. Cock conditioned as well as pavlolv’s dogs, his cock begins to rise. 

Knowing his bitch won’t mind as long as he saves some for him after he gets his beauty sleep, Matt sends a quick selfie and amends his route to head over to the address sent. When he finally returns home, Robbie’s just about done with his morning beauty routine and demands all the deets. 

Before he even gets to the fun part of his retelling, both of the men are already raring to go for another round. And so they go on, dicks at a hair trigger no matter the time of day. Whatever turnabout that occured between them clearly heightened their libidos more than perhaps sustainable. Though neither seems to mind.

In his new form, with his new needs, Robbie finds more fulfillment than he ever did as the twink seeking top he once was. Hearing tell of his alpha’s exploits only make him needier for his cock. On the other hand, from the start Matt was always looking to put people in their place. Now that he stands tall and catches the eye of every bottom, top and vers the new brute is more than happy to share his new self. All in all, the two could ask for no better lives than what they have found after swapping everything that made them, them.