#I guess I should order a metal one instead of the glass one I bought for $6 from a boutique at the beach

[e77y]

DROPPED MY ACE RING AND IT SHATTERED. I AM HEARTBROKEN :(

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

semicolon, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: He knew you. You knew him. Or rather, you both had an idea of the other, only to find that perhaps you connected on a much more carnal, animalistic level. It only took a hotel bar, New Year’s Eve, and the words, “Nice tattoo.”

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alludes to attempted suicide; intense smut (fem reader, BDSM themes, semi-public exposure, restraints, nipple play, tit slapping, m-receiving oral, pussy spanking, doggy); non-idol!AU; rich heir, dom!Yoongi x tattooed, sub!reader; shifts back and forth between Yoongi’s POV and your POV

–

He was sure it was you.

You had tattoos now. A geometric lotus in your right inner forearm and a filled-in circle with a four-sided starburst around it on your inner left forearm. He observed you turning your head and there was a semicolon tattoo under your left ear. You moved your hair to cover it and nursed your rum and coke, alone. The tight black dress you were wearing was sinful at best. Closer to positively illegal with the way it clung to your breasts and squeezed them together. No one was approaching your table in this hotel bar. It was impossible to approach you when you looked that good.

You tapped at your phone, frowning.

He picked up his glass of whiskey and glided to you.  

“Nice tattoo.”

You froze. Your eyes followed his finger, to your left forearm.

“It’s the symbol of the Sith Order,” you replied coolly.

“Star Wars?”

You lifted your head, raising an eyebrow. Beautiful makeup. Smokey eyes, red lips, your beauty marks visible. You hadn’t hidden them with foundation. He appreciated that.

“Yes.”

He set his glass on your table and slid into a chair. “Aren’t the Sith evil?”

You didn’t respond to that. Merely smiled at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Do I know you?” you asked, tapping your nails on your glass. Matte black. Interesting.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure. You had attended to the same university. He could guess why you had the semicolon tattoo, because he had been in the hallway, witnessing the event when the ambulance took you to the hospital. He had been sleeping with a girl on your dorm floor.

Admittedly, not one of his proudest moments.

He cocked his chin to your right forearm. “And the lotus tattoo?”

You shrugged. “Just a recommendation from my tattoo artist.”

He took a slow, even sip of his whiskey. “Any more?”

You rested your chin on your fingers, placing your elbow on the table.

“You’d have to take me home to find out.”

Somehow, he did not think you were referring to your under-ear tattoo. He raised an eyebrow. “A woman like you, unclaimed? I can’t imagine why.”

You chuckled, lowering your hand to sip your rum and coke. “Perhaps it’s just personal preference.” You frowned, wincing, as if you remembered something unpleasant. “And perhaps it’s society who doesn’t like women who have their tattoos exposed.”

He thought about his fair skin. The many times he had thought about getting inked, but chickening out because he couldn’t think of committing to one specific image or words for that long. Perhaps he was fickle in that sense.

“Min Yoongi.”

He didn’t extend his hand, just stated his name. You paused, holding your glass over your cleavage, blocking it from his view. A moment of silence, a beat passing between your eyes. And then you gave him your name. Yes, it was you. The name had seen in the school newspaper the next day. The name that left the school, disappearing after the incident. He often wondered if you were okay. You seemed okay, looking at him with discerning eyes.

“You are the son of the owner of this hotel.”

Yoongi paused. He placed his glass on the table.

“Something like that.”

You raised a brow and placed your drink on your table. Expression pensive for a moment before you spoke again, tone light and playful.

“Well, perhaps you’ll be interested to know I just had a very unsatisfying one-night stand on the fifteenth floor, so I’ve come to drink the memory away.”

His lips curled into an entertained smile. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You sighed and licked your teeth sharply. “On New Year’s Eve, too, no less.” You tapped your cheek with your index finger. “I suppose that means this year is off to a bad start.”

He looked at his Rolex watch. And then at you and your cleavage, breasts violently pushed together by your tight black dress. His eyes flickered back to yours. You were watching him carefully, aware of his traveling gaze. He smirked.

“There’s still time to remedy that.”

-

There was something about those eyes that haunted you.

You weren’t sure why, because you were quite sure you had never meant this man before. But maybe in a haze, in a dream? You tilted your head. Black hair, half-pushed back to reveal his forehead, dark eyes, pale skin. The kind of handsome that reminded you of midnights and moonlight, with a raspy voice to match. Expensive black suit with ironed lapels, black silk handkerchief in his breast pocket, patterned with the logo of a high-end fashion designer. Crisp white dress shirt, with a platinum tie clip on his slim black tie. 

Well-dressed. Sophisticated. Dangerous.

You did not know Min Yoongi, but it felt like you knew him.

The entire time he was talking, you were watching his movements. For some reason, the heir to this hotel chain was speaking to you. You weren’t that special. That’s how you wanted it. The more anonymous you were, the less people questioned your actions. There’s no way Min Yoongi would know you. And why wasn’t he in the hotel club instead of this quieter, more low-profile hotel bar? Most people wanted to party on New Year’s Eve. The hotel was hosting a huge one at the moment.

You?

You just wanted a good fuck, honestly.

So when he offered, it surprised you. A lot of people would tell you that it was dangerous to have sex with a stranger. A rich man, no less.

But you were also the one with the Sith Order symbol tattooed to your arm.

Your lips curved to match his smirk.

“You got a room?”

He licked his lips.

“They’re all my rooms.”

-

It started the instant the two of you stepped into the elevator. Your long black fur coat was around your arms, shoulders exposed. No purse, because you had sewed pockets into the coat for your belongings. Less to lose this way. Yoongi had taken you to the back of the hotel, through dark hallways and shadows.

“Service elevator. Less people.”

You cocked your head as he pressed the up button, speaking again.

“Less paparazzi.”

You shrugged. “Someone has probably already caught you and posted it on Twitter.”

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. You stepped inside and he shoved you into the wall, pressing his expensive suit into your body as the doors slid closed. Eyes on yours, hot breath in your face.

“No cameras,” he growled softly.

The numbers were climbing up, up. 

Your tongue slid out as you tilted your head. You pressed it against his lower lip. His eyes were so dark they looked black in this lighting. So close to him that you were breathing in his exhale mixed with his pine-scented cologne.

“What are you waiting for?” you whispered. “Give me a taste of your power.”

Should you have provoked Min Yoongi? Maybe not, because his kiss sucked your breath away, his large hands coming up and holding you in place as he teased your lips, nipping at the thin skin, making you gasp into his mouth. He had you pressed into the metal wall of the elevator, one of his legs slipping between yours, thigh pressed into the hem of your short dress. Lips to lips, working you, teasing you with his tongue, not giving it to you.

He backed up a little, breathing down on you and your panting mouth.

“You bought this dress for someone else to take off, hm?” he purred, lips dark pink from kissing you.

“I brought it for the sole purpose of being taken off.” Your chest was heaving, ribcage constricted by the boning of your dress. “It’s not attached to a particular person.”

His hands slid down your head, trailing on your bare shoulders. Sliding into the fur, staring at your face the entire time. Drumming against the slinky fabric of your tight dress as if you were the grand piano and he was the pianist.

“It could be.”

Yoongi tilted his head, lips brushing against yours.

“It could be for me.”

One by one, his fingertips hooked under the hem of your dress, nails pressed against your bare thighs. His hands were cold, sending tingling shivers all over your nerves. Eyes half-lidded, smokey orbs locked with yours. Your lips curved into a succubus’s smile.

“It’s yours now.”

He chuckled, yanking the hem up and over your ass. Chilled air rushed to your naked thighs, your black lace, French-cut panties out in the open. He looked down at your quivering legs and then his eyes immediately fixated onto it. Another tattoo. You watched as Yoongi took it in, able to see it because the boldly printed script was on the space were your right leg and crotch connected, that dip of flesh right above your pussy. His eyes flickered back to you.

He raised his eyebrows.

“’Good luck’, huh?”

You grinned.

“Good luck.”

The elevator dinged.

A housekeeping worker with their cart craned above the supplies to look at you two and then immediately looked away, closing their eyes. Unmoving like a statue. Didn’t try to roll the cart into the elevator, didn’t say anything. They knew exactly who Yoongi was and it seemed like they knew exactly why you were there.

“Come.”

He didn’t take your hand. He simply removed his heat from you and glided through the doors like an elegant ghost. You followed, heels clicking on the floor before touching the carpet. Like your dress, your slim heels were the slightest bit uncomfortable. It kept you at attention and highly aware of your surroundings, even though you had a few drinks.

Your eyes traveled over the lavish wallpaper, the plush red carpet. Over-the-top intricate and extravagant that bordered on gaudy. This was the top floor. The penthouse. You didn’t have to go far. The entire wing was the room.

You wondered why he took you here just for a simple fuck.

Yoongi unlocked the door.

-

“There’s only one stipulation.”

“Tell me.”

You held up the condoms from your pocket.

Yoongi smiled.

-

He was going to tie you up.

You watched as he pressed a button and the metal bar descended from the ceiling, complete with leather straps. You raised your eyebrows. Yoongi watched your expression carefully. The bedroom was dark, only lit by moody red LED lights from behind the bed and low sconces. The color reflected off his pale skin, casting half of his face in shadow.

The button had been behind a locked panel. He was probably the sole owner of that key.

“You are welcome to leave at any time.”

He said the words without emotion. You removed your fur coat, placing it on the oversized black velvet armchair. Everything in the room was in various shades of black and navy, in plush fabrics or luxurious leather.

“You spend a lot on your hobbies,” you commented.

Yoongi smirked.

“Sex is a performance.”

Your eyes connected. He removed his blazer. Like all of his movements, it was a swift and practiced manner, with two fingers hooked around the collar as he walked towards you. He tossed it on top of your coat. Now Yoongi was right next to you, your black dress still bunched around your waist. He did not have a particularly oppressive presence, but it was more like the company of the ocean. Expansive with unreachable depth, strikingly beautiful, and would have absolutely no qualms in drowning you.

Yoongi made sure your eyes were on him.

His long fingers deftly removed his cufflinks, sliding them into his pants pocket before slowly rolling up his sleeves. He was wearing multiple silver bracelets on each wrist, no rings. He folded the crisp white fabric up to his elbows, revealing his lean forearms. He had nice hands. Pampered ones.

“Scared?” he asked casually.

You reached up to the hook-and-eyes at the front of your dress. His eyes followed your movement. One. Two. Your words complimenting the removal of each one. Your breasts slowly relaxed from their prison, held in place by your free hand holding the top of your dress so you could travel downwards.

“Fear is natural,” you whispered quietly. “It is merely a tool in the realm of the strong.”

Yoongi’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Do you intend to speak like that the entire time?”

You chuckled as the last one was undone. “No. I’m only informing you I’m a bit of a masochist.”

And then you released your hand holding up the dress, causing it to unfurl and slide down, stopping at your hips and flaring out like a flower.

-

Yoongi wondered if you did this all the time.

He wondered if this was a product of your life experiences or your instinctual nature. He watched as you slid the dress down your thighs, letting it fall to the floor. You stepped out of it, only in your heels and panties. His teeth sunk into his lower lip.

Yoongi had taken a lot of people to this room. All strangers. Never one he knew from the past, no matter how insignificant. That made you the exception, even if you didn’t remember. His memory was still so vivid to this day.

He let his eyes roam over your body. As he predicted, you had great tits. The dress accentuated them after all. There was another tattoo. Script on the left side of your ribcage. You noticed him looking and turned slightly so he could read it. He had to think. It was in English, like your crotch tattoo, although that one was easier to translate.

“’The world is quiet here’?” he echoed.

the world was written so it was only visible from the front, is visible from the side, and quiet here visible from the back. Printed a typewriter’s font, no punctuation, the placement deliberate and thought-out.

You smiled. “Book quote.”

Yoongi liked it when you smiled. He reminded him of his own, a little hesitant but self-aware of your own quiet confidence. He lifted his hand and placed it behind your head, guiding you to him.

“You are very interesting,” he murmured into your mouth before he kissed you again. Tasting like rum and coke mixed with oceanic blackberry. He had smelled that scent before, although not on skin. He recalled the counter of cologne, the glass bottles with the unisex design. High-end.

On your skin, it smelled like sex itself.

He slid his tongue in between your soft lips, running it over your teeth. Drinking in your gasps, taking it all. He liked it when you breathed into his mouth too. You let it out like smoke, drifting into him. Your hands came up to hold onto his upper arms, steadying yourself. He liked the feeling of your hands as well, the way each finger curled around to grip him tightly. His thrust his tongue in and out, slowly, each moan chaining to the last. His hands in your hair, tangling it up, making a mess.

Yoongi opened his eyes just a crack. They landed on the tattoo in your left forearm, the filled-in circle with the four-sided starburst.

What had made you get a symbol like that tattooed to you?

He pulled you along, still kissing you, towards the metal bar. Turned you around, kissing down your jaw to the back of your neck. His hands slid down your hair, tracing your spine. Fuck. Such a beautiful back, with a lovely curve, so perfect to bend over. He dug his nails into it and you whined under him.

Yoongi didn’t bother asking you if you wanted it. You had a mouth; you could use it.

And you were grinding your ass into his crotch so, clearly, he didn’t have to ask.

He folded your arms behind you, forearm above forearm, tying you to the metal bar with the leather straps. One on each of your wrists, one tucked in the inside your elbows, binding them to each other and then all to the metal. He did not want to cover your tattoos but he had to. The position had you bent over, ass sticking out, tits hanging down, back slightly arched.

“Do I need to secure your waist or can you hold it?”

You turned your head back and raised an eyebrow. The curve of your profile, so perfect against the red light.

“What you need to do is fuck me already.”

He grinned.

-

Yoongi pulled up a chair and sat down right in the front of you.

You gave him a slightly annoyed expression. He smirked at you, placing his fingers on your chin, lifting it slightly.

“I thought you wanted a satisfying fuck?” he drawled.

“And yet nothing is happening.”

“Foreplay is just as important as pounding your pussy.”

You suddenly felt his other hand ghost under your nipple, palm barely grazing it. You tried to drop your body into it but were stopped by your restraints. Yoongi cocked an eyebrow amusedly. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

His thumb slid up your chin. He pressed it into your lips, forcing it open, rubbing your tongue with the pad of his finger. You made a disgruntled noise, saliva collecting where he touched you. You tried to close your lips but he held your jaw down, grip strong and immovable. Spit was trickling down your chin, covering his fingers and dripping onto the floor.

“Waiting for you to give in to me,” Yoongi murmured huskily.

Your heartrate accelerated disconcertingly in your chest. His dark eyes on yours, consuming you, keeping you in this slightly uncomfortable position. And you wanted it. You could feel it, the heat inside you, stroked from embers to full-blown fire, because somehow Min Yoongi could see right through you and knew you wanted what he was composing.

This midnight was his.

He seemed to know that you came to this conclusion. Maybe your pupils were dilated. Maybe it was your shallowed breathing. Maybe it was your trembling body, shaking at his touch. He removed his wet finger and slid it down your collarbones, smearing your own spit on you, before cupping your breast, squeezing it. You sucked in a breath, moaning his name softly as his other hand matched the first, kneading your breasts, rubbing your nipples with his palms.

“Y-Yoongi…”

You gasped as you felt his wrists slide up and the chains of his bracelets scrape your sensitive nipples, blooming pinpricks of pain over your chest. His palms came back, soothing you, his dark eyes intensely focused on your face, not looking away. His fingers pressed into your skin and he closed them in on your nipples, pinching them hard enough so that you could feel it, but not so hard that it was unbearable. He held you there like that. Seconds ticked past. Long, grueling seconds that felt like hours.

Yoongi was very calm about it as you slowly unraveled in his hands.

You body began to move involuntarily, raising your chest so his fingers pulled on your nipples a little. He still did not move his hands. You couldn’t go far with the metal bar digging into your back. He watched you try different things to get more stimulation, fingers motionless. If you moved too much, you were afraid he was going to let go and not give you more. You craved more. Needed it.

“Yoongi, please… Harder…”

His dark eyes were hypnotizing you.

The position of his fingers changed. He clamped your nipples between the joints of his index and middle fingers. You yelped, back banging against the metal. He pressed his thumbs against the hardened nubs, rubbing them harshly. Expression unchanging, forever on you.

“I thought you wanted it harder.”

His voice was deep, calm, with a hint of raspy delight. The sensation was a stark contrast to what he was doing before, shooting sparks of pleasure through your body. You shuddered, bucking into it, knees collapsing a bit as he stimulated your nipples.

“Hold.”

A single command and your knees locked to obey, entire body shaking. Yoongi pulled your nipples towards him, pushing your breasts together as he did so. Your back had to curve abruptly against the cold metal bar at his action. He lowered his head, trailing kisses along your collarbone. You whined, his touch hard and lips soft, eyelids fluttering as your nipples slipped out from his fingers. His large hands quickly twisted to cup your tits, keeping them up and pushed together as he kissed down the curve, nipping sharply at your skin. Leaving small red marks all over, sucking at some points to bruise you.

He didn’t need to speak. His lips told you everything, travelling all over your breasts hungrily, your swollen and abused nipples waiting, patterning your skin before his tongue snaked out.

“F-fuck, Yoongi…”

The pink tip pressed against the inflamed nub, pushing it around delicately. Strands of black hair framed his sculpted brows and those dark eyes were on you again. He closed his lips around it. Your eyelids slid closed, feeling the softness of his mouth and his tongue swiping all over, swift circles.

Then he sucked, hard.

Your eyes flew open, jutting your chest into his face. Yoongi chuckled in his throat and continued to suck, pulsating around your nipple, scraping his teeth against it. One of his hands came up and matched the rhythm of his mouth, tweaking and assaulting your other nipple forcefully. Your core throbbed with need, soaking your panties so much that they stuck to your folds. The scent of your arousal was getting stronger and stronger, a heavy sweetness.

He released your nipples abruptly and you gasped, feeling him lick a fat stripe possessively over your tits. Saliva dripping down, coating them all over. He removed his hand. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

“What’s my name?” he whispered quietly.

You lifted your trembling head, hair covering half your face. Your knees felt like jelly.

“Y-Yoongi.”

He slapped your tits.

You yelped, his open palm creating hot friction on your abused nipples. It wasn’t a hard hit, but an expansive one that covered a lot of surface area. It was obvious he knew what he was doing. Pain trickled throughout your body, pussy throbbing with need.

“Again.”

“Yoongi.”

He slapped you again, from the other side. You shuddered, sucking in your stomach at the sudden pain that seemed to swallow you up, but somehow it didn’t really hurt, instantly morphing into tinges of arousal. It was probably the way he was looking at you. His appearance was bored, but his eyes were trained onto your body, ink-black pupils shimmering with power in his dark brown irises.  

“Again.”

Your eyes dropped down. He spread his legs. It was like he knew what you wanted. His erection strained against his tailored black slacks. It was impossible to hide with how closely fitted they were to his body. Your eyes went back up to his face. His expression was still unbothered.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, the clearest you’ve sounded yet.

Smack! You whined at the force, back against the cold metal. Smack! A half-moan, a half-sob as you felt his bracelets scrape against your skin. Smack! Your breasts banged together, softness against stinging softness, and it just felt so good as the pain crawled through your nervous system, devastating you. Your head was arched back, staring at the ceiling, mouth open and panting.

Yoongi reached up and pushed your head back down. He used his other hand to trace your lips, smeared with lipstick and saliva.

“I’m going to fuck this hole now.”

There was a short silence. He was waiting for you to say no.

You didn’t say anything.

Yoongi stood up and unbuttoned his pants right in front of your face. Your eyes followed his fingers as he unzipped them. The flaps opened and his cock fought against the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs, swelling as it was released from the confines of his pants. He pressed it into your nose and you inhaled his scent, oppressive and erotic, making you moan hotly against it.

You wanted it in you so bad that your juices were leaking down your thighs.

You felt his palm caress your head, smoothing your hair. He rocked his hips into your face, humping your open mouth. You pressed your tongue against his clothed cock, whimpering at how close it was and yet so far. His words drifted down to you in a low growl, teasing and domineering.

“Good luck.”

He removed his hardness from your face. Your eyes flickered up to him, a smirk on your lips. Yoongi matched your devious expression, pushing down his underwear. His cock sprung up into your vision, overtaking it. Oh, fuck. The head already dark red, leaking pre-cum. Veins standing out along the length, waiting to be stroked by your tongue. It was the hottest image you had ever seen, Yoongi’s smug face above you, his stiff cock so close to your lips that you could feel the heat. And fuck, he smelled so good, as if his pine cologne, his skin, and his arousal made an unholy pheromone combination that made you open your mouth, exhaling hotly over the glistening head.

Yoongi shoved it into your lips with one swift stroke.

You reeled, expanding your throat as he buried himself into it, sucking in a tight breath. It was a skillful, deliberate movement, one that didn’t jar your gag reflex immediately. You had plenty of practice from former encounters to not gag at first instinct, but Yoongi also seemed practiced, as if he had shoved his dick down many throats before.

His large hand fitted around the back of your head. Not moving.

His taste overwhelmed your mouth. Your tongue slid around expertly, running down the length, moaning around him. His eyes were closed but you could see his pink lips curve upward. You closed your own eyes, squeezing him in your throat as your tongue rubbed along the veins, pressing him into the roof of your mouth.

“You do not disappoint,” Yoongi sighed in satisfaction.

He pulled out a little and your tongue instantly went to the head, licking slow circles all over, teasing the opening with your tongue, spreading it out before sliding under to stimulate the thin skin between the head and length. Yoongi moaned above you, your name finally falling from his lips. You did not realize it would have such an effect on you until he said it. It made your thighs clench and pussy throb, agonizingly forced to wait until he was done with your mouth.

He began to thrust into your face, slow but forceful, tipping your head back a little so the head stroked against the roof of your mouth before hitting the back of your throat. You took it, helpless, bent over, knees aching as he fucked your mouth, almost lazily. His hand had a firm grip on your head, pushing himself in over and over.

“Keep it tight for me,” he murmured. “You’re doing so good.”

You closed your lips around him, meeting the base of his cock, your cries muffled and vibrating along his hard length, adding stimulation. You looked up, seeing his tensed jaw, pleasure painting his features, eyes closed. Yoongi wasn’t trying to get off fast; he was trying to build it to a crescendo, and your mouth was his tool to do it. In, out, in, out, each time a little rougher, a little more force. Rubbing your throat raw, jaw aching, but you were so focused on the soft pants coming from his lips that you didn’t notice.

“Your mouth is so perfect,” Yoongi gritted out, rocking his hips a little faster. “So soft and tight.”

His eyes opened halfway and he noticed you staring at him as he fucked your mouth. He inhaled sharply at the sight.

“So fucking sexy,” he mumbled. “You want to swallow me?”

You hummed needily in response, gazing imploringly at him. He smirked.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He rolled his hips, faster, harder. You noticed the muscles in his neck tense, his hand gripping you tighter as he chased his release, fingers digging into your scalp, his cock trembling in your wetness as you sucked your cheeks in. Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes closing again. His hips smacked into your face repeatedly, your name a low hiss as he thrust particularly roughly into your throat, the head being choked by your wet vise.

“Fuck...”

Sudden, jerking strings of cum shot down your throat, painting it white, pumping straight into your mouth. You swallowed hard, barely able to take a breath before his cock violently shuddered, filling you up with more of his salty, thick taste. He held your head as you gulped around him, groaning as he felt your throat close in on the sensitive head continually.

“That’s it…”

His fingers curled into your hair, lifting it away from your neck and collecting it behind you so he could look down at you drinking his orgasm.

“What a pretty picture and all for me.”

-

His eyes honed in on the semicolon tattoo under your left ear.

It flexed and moved as you swallowed, flickering in and out of vision as the small dangling black gems on your ear hid it. His eyes slid back to your fucked-out face, struggling for breath but being denied by his hold on you.

You might have a personal preference when it came to being single, but Yoongi was a rapacious man, and he wanted to own your mouth. He doubted he could buy it with money, but perhaps he could make you addicted to him. He pulled out of your lips and you whined deliciously.

Inwardly, he grinned like a devil.

Yoongi leaned down and lifted your head, kissing your swollen lips. You kissed him back, starved and hungry for his softness, his gentle touches that were matched by his roughness. Did you always look this good? He wanted you beside him so he could study you, so he could push you to your knees whenever he wanted, so you could resist him and so he could teach you a lesson.

But you deserved the fuck you had asked for. He could smell how turned on you were and he had promised after all. His tongue slid into your mouth and he tasted himself, a familiar taste that somehow tasted better when it was mixed with your saliva.

Yoongi did not think he was going to invite any more strangers into this room after this.

He broke the kiss. Your eyes on him, burning him to the core. He removed his shoes and socks, standing up. Stepped out of his pants, still wearing his shirt and tie. He kept them on as a sign of his power over you. You looked so perfectly submissive, just like this. He had to move out of your line of vision.

There was no way you knew what he was thinking, but he still didn’t trust himself. He did not want to get carried away. He had a job to do.

And that was to fuck you.

He moved around to your quivering legs, seeing your soaked panties. Not commenting, but his cock twitched seeing it, knowing it was him that made you this way. His fingers closed in on the top of them, yanking up. You jerked you head back, moaning hotly at the action. The black lace dug into your skin, seeping into your slick folds. He kept his voice measured despite his desperate need to shove himself into you right now.

“Count to four.”

He dug your panties into you as he spoke and made you whine as he pulled from side to side. The delicate fabric was ripping a little.

“One.”

He spanked your pussy with his large palm. The sound was loud and wet, traveling throughout the entire wing, along with your scream of pleasure. Yoongi was getting hard already listening to you. Even in the low light, he could tell your pussy lips were becoming puffy, reddening. His hand was smeared with your juices and he resisted the urge to lick it.

“Keep going,” he nudged gently.

He heard you panting. “Two.”

Smack! The sound, the sound, it turned him on so much as the lustful moan was torn out of you, your raw throat turning it almost feral. He twisted your panties in your slit, watching the fabric tear slowly against your inflamed skin, drinking in your squeals and whines as he tortured you.

“T-three.”

Slap! His fingers were coated in slickness, watching the wetness splatter between your legs as he hit you. Your ass was backing up into your panties, trying to get more, stopped by the metal bar. If you wanted him to stop, you wouldn’t have uttered the final number, gasping it out hurriedly.

“Four.”

Smack! Yoongi slapped the hardest yet and your knees buckled, almost sobbing. He shoved your kneecaps with his, locking them back in place. Your legs were shuddering hard, barely holding up, but your mouth was telling him a different story, choked gasps of pleasure.

“Fuck, Yoongi, yes…”

He pulled your panties down. They were practically ruined by his grip. That was too bad; they were quite beautiful. He intended on buying you new ones. Perhaps he could come with you to select them.

He paused for a moment to grab a condom, holding it in his hand before returning to you.

“Yoongi, p-please fuck me…”

You craned your head to look at him, the perfect profile. He raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck me with your pretty cock, p-please…”

He stared down at your gorgeous back, the peeks of your tattoos in his restraints, your ass stuck up in the air, pussy lips swollen and leaking from his spanking. He couldn’t see it right now, but he knew the ‘GOOD LUCK’ tattoo was there, right next to your pussy. Yoongi wondered who the artist was.

Perhaps they had been lucky like him.

He felt a surge of annoyance.

Yoongi stepped up to your ass, lifting his cock and pressing the length against your wetness. You started, almost moving away.

“It’s not in you.” He kept his voice even. “You will know if it was in you.”

He exhaled quietly as he rubbed his length and his balls against your wet slit, keeping the head away from you. You were warm, soft, and so, so slick. He was semi-hard, but he could feel himself getting harder as he pressed your ass around his cock, fucking the crevice between your cheeks. He knew it would be better inside you, but for some reason he needed to punish you a little. Needed to let you know that he was irate that there were others before him, that somehow fate cheated him by not having your paths cross sooner.

There was nothing you could do about that, but Yoongi didn’t care.

You were moaning under him, hips pushing back to meet his thrusts, your pussy smacking his balls, coating them with your lubrication. He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy it. Fuck, you had a nice ass, malleable and lush in his hands. He wanted to own this ass too. You mouth, your tits, your ass.

He knew he would want your pussy too once he was in it.

“Yoongi, please…”

He pressed his fingers into your skin, sliding them inward. Held his cock carefully so it wouldn’t leak on you as he retreated.

“Ah, you’re right,” he purred. “You’ve earned it.”

He opened the condom, sliding it on. His cock jerked in his hands, already desperate for what was to come. He was the kind of man who lived under so much discipline that he knew nothing else. Although life could not be controlled, he could control himself and his emotions.

Yoongi pressed the head against your entrance. Sucked in a breath.

Sank in slowly.

Oh.

God.

Yoongi was not religious, but he swore he saw glimpses of heaven the second his cock was fully enveloped by your pussy. It was tight, it was soft, and each ridge clenched around him, roughly stimulating the head after he had mildly edged himself with your ass moments earlier. You pulsed around him, constricting him inside you as the base of his crotch touched your abused pussy lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

He needed to own this pussy.

Yoongi pulled back and shoved himself back in, gasping at the tightness. It was not because you weren’t turned on. It was because you were clenching around him, pressing your walls inward to choke his cock and, if possible, his cock became harder knowing this, harder as he heard you cry out in satisfaction.

“Yes, Yoongi, yes…”

He began to fuck you, rolling his hips into yours, trying to keep it slow and steady to drive you crazy, but to be honest, he was done for, because Yoongi had never experienced such power, never had a body fuck him back with such force, never heard such delicious, desperate mewls of need as he thrusted into you, slamming your hips together with loud squelches. It was probably a lot, his cock hitting you deep and your pussy already sensitive from his spanking, and yet you told him to hold you tighter, fuck you harder.

“Use me, Yoongi,” you gasped. “You feel so good, fuck, Yoongi, your cock is so fucking good…”

How did you know all the words that made him weak? How did you know exactly how to sound to make him want you more? And you took it all despite your shivering legs, despite your tits violently bouncing with every thrust, despite him pressing down on your lower back to hit you deeper. He watched you throw your head back, a long sinful wail slipping from your lips, hair flaring out like fire and you came all over his cock, pussy spasming and clenching around him.

Yoongi’s eyes widened, hips ramming into you. The head smacked against your tightest spot and he saw stars, the pleasure hitting its peak and plummeting into him, taking his breath away. He shot aggressively into the condom, pumped out by your pussy clamping down around his length, sucking it all out. His eyes rolled back into his head with how good it felt. This had never happened to him before. The moans of his name rang in his ears, encompassing him as his cock twitched inside you, the perfect combination of sound and sensation.

If Yoongi ever heard your voice again, it would be synesthetic experience for him, because he would remember this sound and this feeling for the rest of his life.

Outside, the clock stuck midnight, and fireworks overtook the sky in thundering booms.

-

“Was that a satisfying fuck?”

“Very.”

Yoongi reached over and tucked a spare strand of hair behind your left ear. You sat in his lap, in the armchair with the windows wide open, revealing a perfect view of all the fireworks overtaking the moonlight. It was a bit wasteful for your taste. Not that good for the environment. Yoongi informed you that he would look into more sustainable alternatives.

He pressed his lips into your neck.

“The next time you want to stay at one of my hotels, I will make myself available.”

You chuckled. “Can you afford a pause in your schedule?”

You could feel him sucking a red mark into your skin.

“What else can I do when a member of the Sith Order visits?”

You laughed and he smirked against your newly-made hickey.

-

same au as exclamation mark !

punctuation au dom!myg and jjk | period . | comma , | question mark ? | apostrophe ‘

--

masterpost

[gentlemancrow]

idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

[thiswasinevitableid]

98. I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned???

Super/vigilante/mercenary au? I feel like it would be really cool if one of them has known the other’s secret identity for a while but doesn’t have anything against them. The two have also been becoming /close/ friends with mutual pining, so the hit is actually just a good excuse to reveal their identity before asking them out. Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I tried to work in as much of this as I could

Content warning for mentions of guns and mentions of death

It’s a dark and stormy night, because of course it fucking is.

Indrid steers the borrowed car down the street, rain hammering the car while his heart tries chiseling it’s way from his chest. He doesn’t want to be here, circling the block like a shark on a reef, the light from the top floor, left corner of the apartment building telling him there’s no pretending his prey isn’t home. He doesn’t want to think about the instructions he burned, the lethal object hidden in his clothes.

He doesn’t want to kill Duck Newton.

“Excuse me, but I have a rather odd question; which of these trails is the least traveled?”

The ranger looks up from the map between them, grin friendly and a little lopsided, “Lookin to do some birdwatchin or somethin?”

“I like to draw but I, ah, I also get easily overwhelmed by crowds.”

“Try this one” The man circles a trailhead, “not super popular this time of year. Watch out for mud.”

“I shall, thank you.”

He didn’t.

Which is why he’s back in the visitor center, trying to get enough of the mud off so that driving home isn’t miserable. Worse, the ranger from earlier walks in, takes one look at him, and snickers.

“I tried! Truly, I was careful, but there was this-”

“Patch of stones in the trail?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

“Fell flat on my ass two days ago thanks to them. Wait here a sec.” The door swings shut, then opens again while Indrid is rinsing mud from his glasses. The ranger holds out a packet of body wipes, “this’ll get the worst of it.”

“Thank you ranger...Newton.”

That same smile, reaching a pair of mismatched eyes, “Just call me Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid parks in a spot far from any streetlights or cameras, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and starts towards the apartment complex.

“These are fascinating.” Indrid peers over the edge of the dock at the early blooming bulbs.

“Glad you like ‘em, thought they might be alley after you showed me those drawings of the marsh.”

He imagines Duck seeing the flowers on his rounds and thinking not of the seasons, the weather, the way their petals look near the water, but of him. It’s the sweetest thought anyone’s ever spared for him.

The lobby door opens easily, courtesy of the copy of the keycard left in his mailbox. He knows he should take the stairs; fewer people use them.

He calls the elevator.

“Duck? The sign on the door is, that’s just temporary right?”

“Nope.” Duck sets his hat on the counter, runs a hand right through the grey streak in his hair, “they’re closin the whole park until further notice, which is probably gonna be never. Laid all of us off.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Even Indrid could tell it wasn’t. That from their occasional conversations, Duck’s work was akin to his heart, kept life flowing through him on even the roughest days. The assignment had told him not to worry, that he was almost doing his target a favor, ending a life he wanted over anyway.

Indrid knocks on the door, tossing his options about in his mind as slow footsteps approach. He could do what he was sent here for. Or he could offer Duck Newton something to brighten his days.

The door opens, Duck standing there in boxers, a plain white t-shirt, and a confused expression.

“Indrid? Jesus, come in, you're fuckin soaked. This is some storm.”

“At least it will help with the drought.” Indrid closes the door, slips off his shoes, lets Duck take his sweatshirt to hang near the heater, angling his body so he won’t see or feel the handgun tucked in his waistband.

“Yeah. Assumin it don’t just mudslide all the hills that lost their cover durin fire season.” Duck sighs, plops down on the couch, “sorry, ain’t exactly in a chipper mood.”

“That’s sort of why I came to see you. I, ah, I wanted to see how you were getting on after the park closing.”

Duck gestures to the messy apartment, then at himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you got enough money to reopen the park indefinitely.”

He chuckles, “I wish I did.” He picks up a small, wooden ship, “goodness, did you make this?”

“Yep. Know it’s an old man hobby but, uh, I dunno. I just like makin stuff. Putting things into the world, even if it’s just a model ship on the shelf or a mint plant on the windowsill.” His smile is tired, but there’s a determination to it that makes up Indrid’s mind for him. He’s about to make his offer when Duck adds, “mind grabbin me some water since you’re closer to the kitchen? Cups are in the middle cabinet.”

“Of course.” Indrid crosses into the small kitchen, mind wandering to what their first date will entail as he sets his hands on two glasses.

The cold metal at the base of his neck hurtles him back to earth.

“Someone set you up, slim.”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Duck’s hand goes instantly to Indrid’s gun, pulling it free and tossing it away before roughly patting him up and down. The barrel on his skin never wavers.

“Duck, please, I, I can explain.”

“No need to. Thought you seemed familiar, went diggin and found out who you work for. Bet you thought I hadn’t seen your nine mil, but I ain’t lived this long by bein careless.”

“I don’t understand. The file they gave me didn’t say anything about this.”

A bitter chuckle, “Wasn’t always a ranger, slim. The fact they didn’t tell you that makes me think they’re hopin I off you, not the other way around.”

“But, but I didn’t do anything.” The crack in his voice is why he was never cut out for this, he told them that, over and over again.

“And you ain’t gonna.”

“Duck please I, I wasn’t going to do what they told me.”

“If your bosses are who I think, then helpin me would be a goddamn death wish on your part.”

“It would have been worth it. One date with you would have been worth whatever they did to me if they caught me after I ran.”

“That’s mighty funny” the barrel disappears, and the ghost of a kiss takes it’s place, “I was busy weighing whether askin you out was worth the risk of gettin shot.”

Duck sets the Glock on the counter as Indrid slumps against it, turning to find the ranger watching him carefully.

“What do we do now?” He sort of wants him to kiss him, sort of wants to storm out and find whoever thought he could be gotten rid of so easily.

“I say we-” Duck freezes as three, sharp knocks come from the door. He crouches to the floor, Indrid following him. The ranger grabs Indrid’s gun from the floor, whispers, “stay put, follow my lead.” Then he calls, “who is it?”

“I have a package for you to sign for, Mr. Newton.”

“Be right there. Actually” he lowers his voice slightly, “uh, Indrid, you’re right by the door, could you-”

The shot breaks the wood right where Indrid’s head would be. Duck fires two shots, both of them sighing when there’s a tell-tale thump of body meeting carpet.

“Glad yours had the silencer. Buys us some time, but someone is bound to come outta their apartment eventually and find the fucker.”

“Our hitmen also have to report completion within a certain time frame or back-up is sent. And no, I can’t do it for him, it has to be voice contact.” Indrid stands, calmer than a moment ago; this part he knows.

“Good to know. In that case, slim,” he raises an eyebrow, “think it’s time you and I take a vacation.”

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

“You really got no clue what they’re after you for?” Duck winds them along highway 50 as the sun peers anxiously over the horizon.

“None.” Indrid fishes out the roll of mini doughnuts he bought near Donner Lake, the first place Duck had deemed safe to stop since they left the coast. They’re in his car, Indrid knowing full well the one he borrowed has a tracking device installed, “I’m mostly a numbers man; they give me scenarios and I give them likely outcomes. I, ah, I also helped with clean up, but I suspect they did that when they were annoyed I’d given them what they thought was an inaccurate prediction. I don’t like the aftermath of disasters, even if they’re small. And I was never, ever assigned a hit until last night” He worries a hangnail, “I thought they were satisfied with my work. Even if they weren’t, they could easily do away with me. There was no point in sending me on a fake mission and hoping you’d kill me instead.”

“Unless they got something against me too, which they could.” Duck drums on the wheel, “I, uh, I joined a, uh, guess you’d call ‘em a vigilante group when I was younger. I was eighteen and they recruited me, sayin how there were certain folks who were chosen to protect the world from evil. I avoided it for a few years, but they were persistent, and honestly I thought I could make a difference. That we were just protectin folks who the system didn’t. And we did. Kinda.”

Indrid offers him a doughnut, which he takes and chews before continuing

“Trouble was, not everyone agreed on who needed protectin. It got so convoluted and so goddamn dangerous that I decided I wanted out. Wanted to spend the rest of my life makin things grow, lookin out for the woods, that kinda thing. It almost worked. But if I could go back in time to talk to that kid, I’d tell ‘im there are enemies you can’t unmake, things you can’t undo.”

“Very true.” Indrid murmurs, “I suppose I’d tell myself I did not blame him for throwing in with who he had to in order to survive.”

“Pretty sure that’s what you’re doin’ now, too.”

“No.” Indrid shakes his head, “right now I am on the run with someone I like a great deal.”

Duck flashes him a smile, flips the blinker to turn them into the only sign of civilization for miles; a cluster of buildings calling itself Cold Springs Station. The groggy teen at the counter gives them the key to a cramped cabin.

Indrid tosses his bag--the one he hid in the trunk of the borrowed car, knowing the likely outcome of his visit would involve flight of some kind--down on the right side of the bed, Duck doing the same on the left. It’s only when they’re under the covers, both half-asleep, that he notices he forgot something.

“Drat. I meant to stick something plush in my bag. I, ah” he blushes, “I sleep much better with something to cuddle.”

A strong arm drapes over his waist while Duck tucks his head under Indrid’s head, “how’s that?”

Indrid winds his limbs around him, feeling like a little kid who’s just had his favorite teddy bear returned to him after hours of tearful searching, “perfect.”

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

The plan is to weave through the Southwest like a drunk bee before turning North; they need to put off visiting any places with friends or family for as long as they can. They spent a morning on the floor of a run down motel with a map and some pens, marking off the safest routes and places they’d like to visit. Duck picks state parks, Indrid any place likely to have lots of sweet food.

Whenever they stop for the night, they never bother asking for two beds. While they’ve yet to go further, Indrid delights in waking Duck with a kiss on the cheek each morning.

On the Nevada border Indrid spends two hours playing Blackjack, counting cards enough to win several thousand dollars but not enough to get caught. In a pizza place outside of Salt Lake, Duck wins Indrid a stuffed mothman from a claw machine (“just in case you gotta sleep alone some time”).

And fifty miles from Alamogordo, they get into trouble.

Indrid carries his weapon near constantly, but he really didn’t think he needed it at the Motel 6 Breakfast Buffet. When the man waiting for the waffle maker next to him says “outside, Cold, let’s get this over with” he goes still, wishing they’d at least given him time to eat.

Then he hurls his scalding mocha into the man’s face, striking him in the ribs and breaking his nose before he even hits the floor. Orange and red liquid splashes his face, two shots hitting the juice dispenser behind him. The other two assassins don’t get a second chance to fire; Duck takes out one with a chair, jabs the other with the splintered leg, and gathers both their guns with an ease that Indrid admires.

As they’re sprinting for the parking lot, Indrid slapping an extra two hundred dollars on the lobby desk in apology, he realizes admiration doesn’t quite capture his feelings. Duck is so calm in the face of danger, so commanding, and so very, very...hot.

The moment he allows himself that thought is the moment he dooms his focus for the remainder of the day. He contributes to the planning of their next stop, to driving and watching the mirror for cars that follow for too long, but his mind is back in the dining room, hoping Duck will turn the fire in his eyes onto Indrid, bend him over the beige table and take him while the people who tried to hurt them whimper and bleed on the floor.

“‘Drid? I’m gonna go shower, didn’t get a chance this mornin. You wanna scope out dinner?”

“Of course, but I fear it might be the vending machine special again.”

“Eh, I can live with that, especially if they got those Oreo packets.” Duck blows him a kiss and shuts the bathroom door.

Duck’s showers are between five and six minutes in length; Indrid’s certain he can get himself off in that time. He slips his pajama pants down, spits in his hand, and pretends the fingers pressing on his neck are not his own. That Duck’s voice is in his ear the same way it was that first night, low and so firm Indrid has no choice but to bend.

“You droppin hints, slim?” Duck leans in the bathroom doorway, towel around his waist.

He bolts upright, pants tangled around his knees, “Nono, I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you were going to be a few minutes more.”

“Wanted to shave and forgot my dop kit. Now I’m kinda disappointed that I was gonna miss the show.”

“I, ah, I, it doesn’t bother you?”

“Thought we established we were into each other.” Duck’s smile falters, “wait, fuck, if you decided you ain’t I’ll back the fuck off.”

“No!” Indrid crawls to the edge of the bed nearest Duck, not caring how silly he must look, “it’s the opposite, I want you even more now than I did when we started this trip. After this morning I--ah, never mind. The point is, I would very much like to get you into bed sooner rather than later.”

“How about now?”

“Only if you…” Indrid’s brain screeches to a stop as Duck drops his towel. Now he understands where the urge to create phallic sculptures comes from; he wants to preserve this sight for all time.

“Glad you approve.” Duck chuckles, joins him on the bed, “gotta say the, uh, feelin’s mutual.” He slides a hand along Indrid’s dick, gone soft from his alarm, and lets out an approving groan as it hardens against his palm, “that’s it, sugar, get excited for me.”

“If I get any more excited I will explode.”

“Can’t have that, it’s a pain to clean blood off of walls by yourself” a kiss finds his cheek, “you got a preference for how we do this?”

“I, I’d like to, ah, receive. At least for tonight. Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah.” Duck growls, abandoning him on the bed and laughing when he whines, “gimme two seconds, slim, then I’ll take care of you.” Two condoms and a small bottle of lube bonk into Indrid’s foot, “packed those just in case. You’re gonna get one of ‘em out and open yourself up for me while tellin me just what got you so riled up. Shirt off, c’mon, get to it.”

The gruff tone means Indrid is blushing on every inch of skin by the time he’s fully naked. As Duck’s gaze moves over him, all traces of dominance wash away, leaving expression tender when their eyes finally meet.

“Christ, ‘Drid, you look better than ever coulda pictured. Shoulda been bookin more places with pools just to get you shirtless.”

“It’s January, dear.”

“Hot tubs, then.” Duck nudges him onto his back by kissing his shoulder, and the sight of the ranger above him reminds Indrid’s fingers what they should be doing. He fumbles the condom open, gasps when one digit feels like a massive intrusion.

“Easy slim, easy, you’re probably still tense from this mornin.”

“I thought that much was obvious.” Indrid grins as Duck bends to kiss his collarbone.

“It is, so start tellin me what got you so horny you jerked off the first free second you had.”

“It’s a, a bit embarrassing OH, ohthat'snice” he sighs as Duck kisses a slow trail towards his hips, “but I find the moments when you demonstrate a certain...ruthlessness in-incredibly arousing.” He wiggles his hips happily as Duck drags his lips across his belly.

“Keep goin.”

“You’re brave, and calm even when things are awful, and that makes me feel so very safe with you. But then there are those times when I remember how dangerous you could be, AHnnn” the second finger goes in easier than the first, “that when it, it comes down to it you are more seasoned in lethal matters than I am and I, you could render me utterly helpless, have me, use me, hurt me, but instead you offer me more tenderness than I deserve.” He glances down to where Duck’s chin rests on his chest, the ranger’s eyes overflowing with affection.

“You want the gentle me or the rough one tonight?” Duck tucks a strand of Indrid’s silver hair behind his ear.

“Rough.” It’s so quiet he’s amazed Duck hears it.

“Okay. In that case-”

“AHgod!” Indrid’s hand is pulled free as Duck first flips him over and then hauls him onto his knees.

“Hands on the wall. Now.”

Indrid sets his palms on peeling grey paint as foil crinkles behind him. When the head of Duck’s cock rubs his entrance he whimpers, hoping the prep was enough.

“Here’s how this is gonna go; I’m gonna use this cute little ass however long and however hard I want, and you;re gonna keep your hands there the whole fuckin time. You move, or you mouth off, and I shove some fingers in along with my dick just to remind you who’s boss.”

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid rests his forehead on the wall.

“It gets to be too much, say stop.” A kiss to his neck, “much as I wanna ruin you, wanna be good to you even more.”

“Understood. Now please, please fuck meEEEh, ohgoodnessAH, ahhhgod.” He scratches the wall as Duck stretches him open, the prep proving enough but only just and tears pricking his eyes by the time Duck bottoms out.

One hand stays on his hip while Duck’s right arm wraps around his chest, keeping them close, “Fuuuck, now I see what your job was; ass this nice, you were the fuckin cocksleeve for the entire Organization, weren’t you?”

“Not at all” Indrid rolls his hips at the taunt in Duck’s voice, “I was a very valuable asset.”

“Yeah, I’ll say you’re an asset.” A sharp thrust, the menace of which is broken by Duck giggling at his own joke, Indrid hiding his face in his arm to do the same.

“I say in, ahgod, an office all day, no one saw me, I was not h-hired for my looks, I promise you.”

“If you say so. I say it’s their. Fuckin. Loss.” Three thrusts and Indrid’s cock is dripping onto the pillows, and he moans as Duck settles into a demanding rhythm.

“Got another theory for you, slim.”

“D-do tell.” Whether the stammering is from his teeth clacking together or his thoughts being bounced around his brain from the force of Duck pounding into him, he can’t say.

“I think you stuck around as long as you did because you get off on it danger.”

Indrid sucks in a breath, whimpers, “No. I, I was there because I was apprenticed out and, as you knowOH it’s, it’s hard to leave such places.”

Fingers on his throat, pressing but not squeezing, “Liar. Bet you got off at least once a day, let everyone from the hired hits to higher ups cum in you as long as they made you think they could off someone. Oh fuck, heh, you like that?” Duck smirks as Indrid tries to fuck himself in time with the pumps of his hips.

“Yes, goodness, I’d never want it, only want you, but, but the idea is divine.”

“Too bad, because now you’re all mine and anyone who tries to take you is gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

His climax curls in his stomach, begging him to touch himself and free it, but he’s determined to be good.

“Duck, please let me cum, please, it’s so good but I can’t-”

“I’ll help you out sugar, don’t worry. But you gotta do one thing first.” Duck nips his ear, “say you’re my personal toy from now on. C’mon” the fingers on his throat tighten, “say i-”

“I’m yours, I’m your toy, only you can have me, you can do whatever you wish to me and I’ll take it with a smile, anything, sweetheart, please, pleasepleasepleaseAHhhhn.” His cum splatters on the wall, Duck’s hand leaving his dick the instant it does to dig his fingers into both hips and fuck up into him with ecstatic groans.

“That’s it sugar, take it, be good for me and lemme fuck you until you can’t move, ohfuck, fuck, ‘Drid, yes, fuckyes.” He holds him tight as he cums, breath warm against his back. Then he’s pulling out and slumping forward as Indrid falls back into his arms.

“Ooops” he snickers, spotting the cum, “still easier to clean than blood.”

“Indeed.” Indrid bites his lip, “I, that was wonderful but there’s one thing more I would like. Will you kiss me.” He looks over his shoulder to say it. Duck cups his face, turns it so he can bring their lips together. It’s far slower and twice as tender as anything else they’ve done together.

“Can’t believe I forgot to do that until now. Gonna kiss you silly.” Duck kisses him again as Indrid turns in his lap. When he pulls back, his face is serious, “Y’know, it’s easy to be brave and calm when I’m doin’ it for you. You make me feel like I can face any goddamn thing, long as it’s for your sake. That make sense?”

Indrid studies his face in the half-shaded light from the bedside lamp, sees the curves and colors, sees the man he was willing to run away for.

“Yes, sweetheart, it does.”

[tintinwrites]

forgive me, please forgive me | Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: I wrote this in a few hours hope y’all don’t hate it

Rating: T

Warning: Naughty words. Sexual references. Canon typical violence?

Word count: 1,600, apparently!!

Summary: There’s a bounty on your head and Poe is there to help protect you as you hide out on a planet no one should guess you’re on.

GIF credit: I have no idea, but it’s not mine.

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

“Poe.”

“Don’t ask me to go outside again.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Then what?”

“—may I please leave this tiny house to take a short walk—”

“Wording it differently is the same thing.”

“Damn you, Dameron.”

“Maybe you’ll think next time you decide to kick General Hux in the balls...as funny as it kinda was.”

The whole reason you were on this little planet with its few people, in a little house with its few rooms, was a little kick and a few thousand credit bounty on your head.

Who knew the First Order general would send skilled bounty hunters to find you instead of tracking you down himself?

He was apparently smart enough to realize it would be a much quicker route to have you brought in.

Bounty hunters were trained for this and plenty of the best were aligned with the First Order, and you were pretty sure most people would turn into dark hunters for the high amount of credits they’d receive for bringing you in alive.

Leia made arrangements for you to hide out on a nowhere planet and assigned Poe to be there for assistance until the heat died down.

The First Order was pretty busy, she reasoned, and would probably forget about your small slight against Hux and then drop your bounty.

“I’m going crazy, Poe,” you whined, putting your elbows on the circular table you were sitting at and then your chin in your hands.

“You think I’m enjoying being cooped up here with nothing to do and listening to you beg me to go outside where you could be seen?”

“If anyone knew where I am, they’d probably come into the house and shoot you point blank.”

“You’re not going outside.”

You huffed, gaze roaming the room. “I’m bored.”

He cocked his blaster once he finished cleaning it as he’d been doing, eyeing the shiny sparkling metal instead of you. “Would you rather be dead then?”

“Maybe.” You watched him roll his eyes, then tilted your head at the gleam in them.

“You know.”

“What?”

“There is a bed.”

“You did force me to sleep in it while you slept on the floor like some chivalrous—” You gasped, moving back as far as your chair would allow you to when he leaned across the table.

“You’ve been whining to me since we kriffing got here that there isn’t anything to do, but I can think of one thing.”

“I...I...I…”

“I always thought you were pretty.”

“—you’re trying to shock me into shutting up.”

“Sure, Y/N.” It had been seventy percent genuinely propositioning you and thirty percent hoping you would shut up, but he decided to pretend it was only what you assumed since it seemed like sleeping with him wasn’t something you considered.

“Fine, then I won’t speak ever again.”

“People say I’m dramatic.”

You were quiet then, looking around the room again like it was interesting to you.

But Poe knew you long enough to know that you were a lot like him sometimes; you didn’t appreciate being told to shut up and there was no way you’d stop talking for very long.

One, two, three, four…

He smirked in victory when you tapped your fingers on the table.

“I’m hungry.”

“There are ration bars in my pack.”

You left the table to root through the bag Poe brought with supplies, sifting through weaponry and his under things. “There aren’t ration bars.”

“Check the one pocket.”

“None in there either.”

“Let me see it.”

“I’m not stupid, Poe.”

He looked at you with a silent I know as he tugged the pack out of your grip, searching through it himself.

Then he paused and you raised an eyebrow.

“Find those ration bars?”

“We must’ve eaten ‘em all already. Go check the kitchen for something.”

“Oh, I’m sure the kitchen that no one occupied has only the richest foods.”

“It’s a wonder Hugs didn’t kill you himself.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and he stuck his out as well, and you walked over to look through the two cabinets that comprised most of the kitchen.

They were obviously empty.

“Are you really, seriously that hungry?” He asked in response to the sad look you gave over your shoulder.

“I’m a little hungry, but we’re stuck here until Leia tells us I’m not on wanted posters everywhere anymore and we’re probably going to need food.”

“—I’m going into the village to find us some food. Stay inside and don’t open the door for anyone but me, okay? I’m gonna be a few minutes at most.”

“You’re the best.”

Poe grunted, digging a few credits out of the pack and stopping as he opened the door to look at you. Your look told him that, yes, you heard him, and he stepped out.

He really did take no more than a few minutes, you noted as you heard shuffling outside the door.

You didn’t look up to the opening of the door nor did you look up to reach your hand out for whatever food he’d purchased.

A vice wrapped around your wrist and you turned with wide eyes to find you had willingly offered yourself up to be put in a set of stuncuffs.

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

Poe was at the local market, gathering random foods and tapping his foot impatiently in the long line for the stall that he needed to wait in to pay.

It was rude of him to pelt the credits at the alien and race back to the tiny house, but he was pretty sure it had already been ten minutes away from you and it was probably fine but he wanted to be sure you were safe.

Not only was it his responsibility to help protect you from any bounty hunters wanting the generous reward for capturing you; you were his friend.

His friend that he wouldn’t hate being more with and therefore he cared for you way more than the retorts he often fired back at you showed.

“I don’t know what I bought, but if you whine—” The fruits and treats he’d been holding dropped on a table with soft thuds in the house he realized was very quiet, and not at all set up in the way it’d been when he left.

The chair you’d been sitting in was tipped on its side, the table moved like someone dragged it, the pack fallen on the floor, the other basic furniture turned or moved.

“—Y/N?” He didn’t think you would dare to make a joke like this when you were in danger, a bit of broken glass crunching beneath his boot from a drinking cup he’d left as he moved into the kitchen.

The back door to the house was wide open and swinging in a breeze, and he didn’t need to look closely to see that there were distinct nail marks raking across the wall by it.

Of course there was a split moment of stupidity where it didn’t sink in and he stood there like an idiot, then pulled his blaster out and ran out the door in search of you.

I shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have left.

He berated himself as he ran to the nearby village, eyes searching wildly for any sight of you.

There, there, cuffed in a landspeeder with your terrified eyes meeting his as you called out for him; the bounty hunter driving it looked over his shoulder and only moved faster.

You were on a planet that didn’t have very many inhabitants, but Poe was sure a crowd of hundreds of people was suddenly in his way.

“Y/N!” He shoved and pushed, trying to peer over people’s heads to keep his gaze on you and he broke into a full on sprint the moment he was able to push through them.

Any shot he made with his blaster missed the fast landspeeder, missed the stupid bounty hunter who didn’t even look at him again.

Poe ran.

Until his side hurt, until his lungs were screaming at him to sit down and breathe, until the muscles in his legs twitched, until the landspeeder was out of sight and he could do nothing but fall to his knees and attempt to shoot it.

“Y/N! No!” He watched helplessly as your look of terror disappeared beyond a small hill, digging his fingers into the dirt beneath him with a sob of defeat.

He was responsible for you and he was supposed to protect you from these people, and now you were being taken right to a man who would surely kill you.

And he knew in the back of his mind that he needed to go to where your nondescript ship was hidden, beat you to the First Order base and wait there to kick some bounty hunter ass.

But he couldn’t think.

He failed his responsibility. He let someone take a person he cared very much about to their probable death.

Did you know he cared about you or was he too busy sticking his tongue out and matching your wit for you to have any idea?

You’re trying to shock me into shutting up.

You had no idea.

And now you’d probably die thinking of how he failed to protect you.

He closed his eyes for only a moment, then forced himself onto his feet with a new determination in his eyes to save you from them even if it meant all he managed to do was be killed by them.

Hopeless determination.

[trillian-anders]

grilled cheese

pairing: chef!bucky x plus!reader

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, a little self-depreciation. mostly fluff.

word count: 2746

Description: chef!au; you can tell a good chef by how he makes his grilled cheese.

for @captainscanadian​;; the cbc 1k writing challenge 

just a taste masterlist

“May I have the… king burger and a side of the Parmesan truffle fries please?” This food truck was your favorite in the city, it just so happened to be parked right outside of your job, and definitely served up some spicy creole flavors. It had gumbo and jambalaya by the cup, a burger that shouldn’t work as an ode to kings bread but it did and fresh beignets straight from the fryer if you had a sweet tooth. 

“Would you like something to drink?” The men who worked it were just a plus, the two of them both terribly handsome, the one currently taking your order was smooth. Impossibly smooth. The gap in his front teeth was incredibly endearing, but the wedding band on his finger and the sweet tone he usually used with you led to you believe his marriage was a happy one. 

“We’ve got the Big Shot Pineapple back in,” A sweaty bottle placed on the ledge, “I know that’s your favorite.” And you did love some pineapple soda, but you’d been trying to eat healthier, and ignoring the fact that you were ordering a burger and fries you fought yourself for a moment on whether or not this soda would be too much. 

“Stop pressuring her, Sam.” The man behind him joked, “She’ll get the soda if she wants it.” A smirk on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat. It was no secret to your coworker behind you, Nat, that you had a crush on Bucky Barnes. His strong jaw and bright blue eyes, that tight bun on the back of his head and his fucking biceps. Those strong arms that were wrapped in colorful tattoos. You’d sat near the food truck every Friday since it’d started parking here two months ago and watched him work. 

The kind smile he’d give people, the funny remarks as he cooked their food. The sweat dripping down his face as he lifted the lid off the pot of jambalaya to spoon out a portion. You’d drool over whatever you’d ordered that day watching him work. 

“You should ask him out,” Nat popped a fry into her mouth. “He likes you.” You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the cheap pineapple soda that was just so fucking good. 

“He’s nice to me because I tip well,” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, watching him powder beignets and hand them to a sweet little boy, icing sugar still on his fingers. You sighed, looking down at your burger. “Maybe once I lose some weight.” The burger was half eaten as you stare at it with despair. You had been doing so well today, but the sign on the side of the truck said they were only making it the week of Mardi Gras so they wouldn’t have it next week so you HAD TO get it. 

It was a very good reason. 

“What’s wrong with you right now?” The red headed goddess asked, being someone who hadn’t been a pound overweight her entire life. You rolled your eyes, “No seriously, you’re the same person whether you’re overweight or not. And I can tell when someone likes you and he likes you.” 

“I know I’m the same person,” You took another sip of soda, “I’m just….” How do you say it? “Guys have to be into my body type, I guess. I can’t just go out and approach anyone for a date.” You popped a fry in your mouth, “They have to like fat girls.” 

“I hate when you say that.” Nat shook her head.

“Say what?” You licked the parmesan truffle flavoring off your finger. 

“Fat.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I’m ugly.” You took a glance over at the subject of the conversation, Sam must have said something funny to him because he was laughing. That head thrown back, grab your belly laugh. Fuck he was so hot. His eyes met yours across the pavilion. And he winked. He fucking winked. 

“Just go ask him.” Nat stole another fry. “He always gives you extra fries, he practically pays for your lunch,” There was always something they ‘forgot’ to charge you for after they swiped your card. 

“No big deal.” Sam would say, he would elbow his buddy, “It’s on the house.” It happened more often than would be normal. 

“I’m just saying, instead of thirsting over him, at least go give him your number.” Maybe next week. This week you’d spilled some juice from your burger all over your blouse. 

“Next week.” You agreed, “New week I’ll give him my number.” 

You’d been on track with your diet all week, the salads, protein smoothies, healthy snacks. That way, you reasoned, on Friday when the ‘Connect Nola’ food truck parked on the pavillion you’d be able to treat yourself with something good. 

And something better than good. 

He was wearing a black t-shirt today, his hair in a high bun on his head, strands framing his face. A clear plastic poked out of the back of his shirt on what looked like fresh ink he’d gotten since last time you’d seen him. The special was a boneless fried chicken breast and red pepper jam on a biscuit. 

“That’s what you should get.” Bucky said from his place over the flat top. Two fryers working hard next to him. “It’s my recipe, so it’s good.” 

“As opposed to mine?” Sam smacked his friend, scooting himself around him to pluck the pineapple soda from the cooler. Bucky laughed. 

“I’ve got some fried green tomatoes for you too if you want them.” He winked. Your mouth watered. 

“You’re going to kill me.” You sighed, “Of course I want them.” Bucky smirked, 

“Good cause they’re almost done.” He was stirring some kind of sauce in a metal bowl that after he placed the four thick slices of fried tomato in the paper container he poured over top. The two paper containers were placed on the counter, pineapple soda sweating next to them. You pulled out your card, flipping it between your fingers when Bucky stepped in front of Sam to hand you your food. 

“How much do I owe you?” Your voice was breathy, heart racing at the sight of him so close. He leaned over the side, crossing his arms on the counter. 

“Dinner, tonight maybe?” A charming smile, almost bashful. Your heart skipped a beat. 

“I was going to ask you out.” You laughed. His smile widened. 

“Well now you don’t have to… so?” His number had already been scribbled on the take out container next to him. “I’ll see you later.” Nat elbowed you to respond. 

“Yeah… yes!” You took the warm containers from him, his fingers brushing yours. “Yes, later. Okay.” You bumped into Nat as you stepped backwards. “Bye.” 

He smirked in response, “Bye.” 

“I have nothing to wear.” You groaned over the phone. Nat laughed from the other side, 

“What about that black dress with the flowers?” The one you’d bought from the flea market in the summer. “Wear that.” 

The doorbell rang and your heart dropped. “Fuck, he’s here. Hold on.” You quickly shifted through your closet finding the dress she was talking about. “Just a minute!” You called to the man behind the door. “I’m so fucking disorganized.” You said to your friend on the phone, “Where are those heels?” 

“The black ones with the thick strap? They’re under your bed. You kicked them off when we got back from brunch last week. I’m sure.” She was right. The dress was soon slipped over your head, heels buckled. “Use protection, be safe, and if you need anything call me.” Your face flushed with the thought. 

“Hey,” You panted, opening the door. Bucky stood on the other side, nice slacks and a dark blue button down. “Sorry, I was just…” You gestured behind yourself, catching your breath. 

“It’s okay,” He laughed, “I uhh…” He raised a brown paper bag he’d been holding. “I figured I’d cook you dinner, if that’s okay?” So you put on the shoes for nothing, he laughed, “I’m sorry, but yeah, you put on the shoes for nothing.” 

“Shit,” You covered your face with your hand, not realizing you’d said it out loud, “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Bucky lowered the bag, “Can I come in?” You stepped to the side,

“Of course, I’m sorry.” Being an adult you’ve taken a lot of time perfecting your living space enough that you didn’t need to go out if you didn’t want to. You were fairly proud of your home, the apartment you’d spent the last couple years in slowly collecting items to finally make it yours. From the soft velvety throw down to the little knick knacks that didn’t make it too minimalistic. 

“You’ve got a really nice place here,” He put the bag down on the kitchen counter, he pulled out a bottle of wine and what looked like the ingredients to, “Grilled cheese,” He shrugged sheepishly, “You can always tell a good chef by his grilled cheese. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” You dug through the silverware drawer, pulling out the wine key. “I love grilled cheese.” Two stemless glasses joined you on the counter as you poured the red wine, Bucky opening two different cabinets before finding your pans. 

“We’ve got to get you better pans than this.” He joked, waving your cheap Walmart nonstick pan in the air. 

“That pan does exactly what I need it to do,” You laughed, “Sit and gather dust.” He rolled his eyes, quickly rinsing the pan out and drying it. You took a sip of your wine as he started. 

“Have you always wanted to be a chef?” You asked, stealing a piece of cheese off the cutting board. It was a sharp cheese, tangy on your tongue. He cut another slice. Three different cheeses he had for this sandwich. Along with sun dried tomatoes and a slab of uncut bacon. 

“My Ma was a really good cook,” He begins, “When I was a kid I would always be in the kitchen with her, cooking and baking.” A thick bar of chocolate, eggs and other baking ingredients had been set off to the side for later. A dessert he was going to make that he said would be a surprise. 

“Cooking has always been love for me. It’s a good way to bring people together and a good way to show someone you love them.” His fingers stopped slicing the cheese, looking up at you through his lashes he backtracks, “Not that I love you, not that I don’t care about you because I care about you, but I don’t love you, but not like—“

“I get it.” You laughed, taking another sip of wine, the red in his cheeks in a full flush. He took a steady sip of wine, 

“Have you always wanted to work for Stark?” The cheese was set aside, the thick crust bread sliced, he lay the slab of bacon on the cutting board, working your knife that he’d very expertly sharpened, down the slab, cutting thick slices. 

“Not always,” You mused, “I kind of just fell into this job. My roommate from college, Natasha, had done an internship there during our last year and I originally wanted to go to graduate school, but I haven’t quite decided if I wanted to stick with my major or not, so she helped me get a job just doing clerical work and overtime I’ve just worked my way up a bit. Now I run my own department. So I guess I’m not going anywhere.” He nodded, laying the thick pieces of bacon on a baking sheet, the oven already preheated. 

“What did you want to do?” He asked, placing the bacon in the oven. You sighed, 

“It’s dumb,” He turned to you with an incredulous look, 

“Try me.” He started making a batter for the dessert. 

“I wanted to be a writer.” You shrugged, “Like books.” You gestured to the small library you’d collected for yourself. Stacks of books in your living room next to the shelves of books on your walls. “I have drafts of things, but nothing serious.” 

“You should pursue that.” He poured batter into two medium size ramekins he’d brought himself, tapping the bottom against the counter. “You seem like you’d be an amazing writer.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Not good enough.” To tell the truth you’d sent out a couple chapters to some publishers and had nothing but rejection letters, you’d all but given up on it. 

He told you more about his family, his sisters, how his parents were still very much in love. “Sam and I with our buddy Steve had all enlisted at the same time.” He flipped the grilled cheese revealing a perfectly crisped brown bread. “Steve decided to have a military career so he’s working in DC right now, Sam and I decided to own our own restaurant, right now we’re going the food truck thing until we have enough to buy our spot in the city, then hopefully we will have the truck and the home store.” 

The grilled cheese was fragrant, the three cheeses melted together on a spread of the sun dried tomatoes, thick cut bacon in between. He took his chefs knife and cut the sandwiches down the middle, plating them with ease. “This is so fucking good.” You moaned, the first bite, the crunch, the cheese, the tang from the tomatoes, the bacon perfectly cooked and melty in the middle. Bucky smirked at you from across the table, finishing off his first half. 

“I’m honestly surprised you asked me out.” You popped a piece of crust that had fallen onto the side of the plate. Bucky looked at you confused. 

“Why do you say that?” Fuck it was the wine, making you feel a little shitty. You were a little drunk to be fair. 

“You’re just…. You.” You gestured towards him, “So fit and handsome and like… I don’t know.” Bucky shook his head. 

“You’re gorgeous,” He scoffed, “You’re literally the whole reason we even started coming to the pavilion every week. I don’t want to hear that shit.” You sat back in your chair watching him take another sip of his wine, stunned. “Guys really fuck me up because someone probably treated you like you needed to be a certain way to be loved and it’s just not true. I’m attracted to you, you’re kind and funny and smart.” He wiped his fingers on his napkin, “Doesn’t matter to me either way.” Your weight. Didn’t matter. “I like you.” 

His eyes were intense and sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m sorry.” You said quietly, “I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t.” His hand gently grasped yours, pulling it up to his lips. “I just wanted you to know I like you, no matter what.” Okay. Okay. He leaned in, shifting in his chair to lay an arm over the back of yours, taking the hand he held and placing it on his cheek he softly pressed his lips to yours. 

Your lips parted and met again. And again. And the timer went off on the counter. His phone shrill and loud letting you know dessert was done. “Hold please.” He whispered against your lips. You felt cold when he removed himself from you, puttering around in the kitchen you heard the stove being turned off and he returned a moment later. “Careful they’re hot.” Two perfect chocolate molten cakes, icing sugar and white chocolate sauce drizzled on top. 

“Thank you for tonight.” The two of you stood in front of your open door, his shoes had been slipped back on, hair no longer in a messy bun it hung loose around his shoulders. You were sure it had been your fingers that had worked it loose, but you couldn’t be sure. 

The hot and intense make-out session you’d just had on your couch, tongues mixing and tasting of chocolate. Heavy breaths and soft moans melding together, and just the appropriate amount of wandering hands. 

“No,” He said, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers, “Thank you.” A breath away he pressed his lips to yours again, slowly. Savoring it. “Breakfast tomorrow?” He breathed, resting his forehead against yours in your doorway. You grinned, running a hand down his arm, 

“Same place?” He grinned before taking your lips once more,

“It’s a date.” 

.

.

.

taglist//  @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @the-soulofdevil​ @tinmunky​ @captainscanadian​ @albinotigerpython​

[hellishvu]

Imagine BTS: when you propose to them

— this is clownery. fkskdk i really love the ideas and i tried to not make it like every marriage imagine but so many wonderful writers !! i probably have a similar idea with someone but me posting constantly ??? everyday?? getting REQUESTS DONE??? im a whole new person, i will open requests soon so get those juices flowing with ideas if you want to request something.

a/n: once again!! will edit in the morning, i should really stop writing at midnight (｀・ω・´)

Kim Namjoon: ˚✧₊⁎

The beach has been Namjoon’a secret favorite spots. Places that he’s shared with you, the many trails, beaches, forests, parks, or rivers. He’s shown you all of them.

You had noticed that he comes often to a beach. You believe that it was his favorite plac eojt of all of them. Playing with the crabs and always telling you watch your step so you don’t step on one. If you did he would kneel down to it and say in a small voice “sorry”. Taking photos of him unaware seeing his pure care of the creatures of the planet. Always texting you asking you watered the plants at home you two share.

So planning this was difficult because you wanted to place the ring on a crab and put it on his chest while he is a asleep so he wakes up to it but there is so many variables that could wrong. Like if the crab decides to steal the expensive ring and walk into the ocean for its shiny collection or the crab just pinches Namjoon instead.

The blanket was set while Namjoon explores his backpack looking for the snacks and the soft nap blanket that was made for the outside. Him yawning due to the drive here was long, kissing you a little while you were in his arms. The smiles and giggles you two exchanged while all your mind was filled wirh is “I want to be with this man for the rest of my life.”

Namjoon soon fell asleep with the sunscreen barely rubbed onto his skin due to him being so sleepy. You place the blanket on top of him making sure the sun doesn’t crisp him to death. Soon finding a crab that was big enough and friendly enough to hold in your hand.

“Hello little guy.” You coo at it seeing it walk a little around your hand, pulling out the ring box seeing it the shell was flat enough and big enough for it.

The set up was different trying to place a crab on Namjoon’s chest while trying not to wake him up nor let the ring fall off the crab. Scene was set and you waited till you grew the guts to wake him up.

“Hmm.. what?” Namjoon almost rolls over you widening your eyes to keep him in place. He looks at you seeing you basically sweat bullets wondering when he would feel that weight.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks while you feel your heart beating faster looking at the crab trying to signal him to look at it! Rubbing his eyes he looks down, seeing the ring box open with the shiny simple band of metal displayed on the crab.

“You can not be serious.” Namjoon in utter shock of how you got a crab to be this calm and that you were proposing. He felt the cheeks rise up in heat feeling those moments of love rush back to him.

“You did not!” Namjoon picks up the crab slowly seeing it look around having no clue what it’s got itself into. Namjoon picking up the ring box observing the ring. You trying to read his facial expression.

“Namjoon will you do me the honor of a lifetime, to marry me?”

Kim Seokjin: ˚✧₊⁎

Seokjin loves going on vlive because well, it was a chance to connect to army all over the world. That he gets to read their sweet messages and questions that they get the opportunity to get to know him better.

Currently tonight all the members were asleep or too tired from all the recent shows so it was just him. He couldn’t help but feel nervous almost but it soon washed over him when he was talking or rambling about his day. Tonight was the last day you both had time to hang out before the next few weeks would be full of busy hours.

You had asked the members before if they could pretend to be asleep or tired so it was just him. Him and you with the audience of millions but you knew all that you would be too busy staring at was him. While Seokjin was busy reading the comments you walked in unnoticed shushing the camera so the army wouldn’t say anything.

Kneeling on one leg you heard Seokjin let out a “huh” but you noticed he didn’t realize you were there. From the distance you could make out thecomments that were being spammed in the chat “Will you marry him?” Seokjin tilted his head till he looked in the camera seeing not only himself but you.

“No way. No you-” Seokjin turns his chair around seeing you grin happily, you seeing the comments with love emojis.

“Kim Seokjin, you have changed me in so many ways. You made me into a man that is blessed for you to be mine. You always say your jokes for me that I will never get tired of listening to. You’ve shown me the world of places I never knew existed. Please let me become your forever faithful lover, will you marry me?” You say seeing Seokjin hold your hand squeezing it while he tries to keep himself together. Wiping your own tears while he nods.

You place the ring on his finger, Seokjin raises his head when he heard all the members walking in with a cake. The happy cheers and songs being sung while they jump up and down. You were sure that the near by hotel rooms would complain but you saw Seokjin smile grow 10x more. Kissing you showing off his now filled with love ring finger.

“I can not believe you did that.” Seokjin chuckles on your chest. You looking at his finger that is glistening in the light him still not being able to stop staring at it.

“Well I want the world to see that love exists, between all genders. The little representation.” You say seeing the box for the ring sitting on his drawer with the photo of you two. Seokjin turning around pecking your lips whispering a “thank you”.

Min Yoongi: ˚✧₊⁎

Yoongi is always down to try new things with you, but you might’ve taken it too far when you suggested a karaoke night. He came out of the room seeing you all dressed up, thinking you meant to stay home and watch those karaoke youtube videos.

“What are you doing? Get ready!” You pout seeing Yoongi turn right back around to the bedroom. Finding an outfit, the classic black bucket hat and a vline shirt that you gave him one christmas.

“Look at my beautiful boy.” You twirled him around, grumbling something that you’re cheesy. Kissing on his lips gently.

Once you two arrived at the karaoke bar, you ordered a special private room so Yoongi isn’t paranoid that someone will recognize him or worst reveal you two’s location. Walking in seeing the alcohol freshly opened by one of the workers.

“Why don’t I go first.” Suggesting you poured some alcohol in your glass drinking it before getting up to sing. This was part of the plan, you went to the karaoke room checked out the songs and begged them to insert some of you and Yoongi’s songs.

You heard shocking comments of the songs that Yoongi knows, the songs that you two connected to. Clicking on the first song it played getting the sweats seeing Yoongi raise up his glass cheering you on.

Singing closing your eyes because you were honestly scared of seeing Yoongi’s reaction. Afraid that you’ll sound like a dying goose or something. You slowly opened your eyes seeing Yoongi in trance of your singing, knowing it coming from deep in your heart. That you sang this song when you were alone missing him.

Before Yoongi can say anything the next song played, him sensing that these songs were too aligned. The first song was the first date song that played while you kissed him goodbye on his front door and now the second song was him asking you to be his boyfriend at a concert. The favorite artist you two shared, it was connecting too much.

His suspension was right when the next song was you jumping around singing the moving in song, the one that played while you two unpacked and bought furniture, feeling tired from the trips you blasted he song jumping around with him.

The last song was put, Yoongi is ready for anything but the last thing he expected was you proposing. That was the goal at the end of the night, singing your heart out earning giggles from him. The last lyric came to a stop, you singing it softly kneeling down on one knee.

“Yoongi will you marry me and connect our beats to one song?” Very cheesy you know, but it didn’t stop Yoongi from grinning widely his gums showing.

Jung Hoseok: ˚✧₊⁎

Hoseok has been loving the stage, ever since he first stepped on it he has adored it. To be able to show his talent, his love, and his passion for music and dance it was a dream come true that he got that as his full time job.

The charmisa he holds on stage makes any stranger or army completely in love with the show. With the thrills of the stage you decided that is where you would propose. It took a lot of convincing to security and staff to get approved and the fan project that you got organized from the loveliest people on this earth.

It was the end of the show almost, the members coming back stage for once more getting their outfits ready and make up. The rush of getting ready never stopped Hoseok from him kissing you and thanking you for coming. You always did come and always felt proud seeing him on stage no matter how many times you’ve seen it.

“Honey, after show we could get take out? Eat in your room. So the members don’t complain of me giggling like a school girl.” Hoseok asks while he changes into the fancy outfit. The metal belts and buttons seeing it looked like a prince.

“I would love to, now go back out there.” You kissed him, you wrap your hand around his waist pulling him closer to you. Missing his warmth and touch.

“I love you!” Hoseok yells out while he speed walks waving at you. You saw the entire staff look at you, thanking yourself he didn’t touch your butt or else he would’ve felt a box.

“I guess it’s show time.” You said soon enough you heard the loud blasting music come back on hearing the army scream once more.

Honestly you were terrified being in front of that many people anyone would be nervous and you didn’t want to get a no. You could get ran over and it still wouldn’t hurt more than getting rejected by Hoseok. You love him so much that you would go beyond to just see him smile.

They qued you to go and you felt pressure in your chest seeing your hand shake. The entire time you got on the steps walking you felt your knees wobble but you kept it together. The army screamed louder when the camera pan to you showing the “Spring Love Time” on the large monitor. Hoseok having no clue what was happening till the music cut the members all looking at him, they knew what was going on.

The instrumental of Spring Day starting, Hoseok looking behind him seeing you walk. Obviously not knowing where to stare till you landed your eyes on him. The eye contact was strong but he had no clue what was happening. Army started singing and the rest of bts sang the voices of the people he loves to death.

“What is happening?” Hoseok asks Jungkook trying to laugh his way out of this. He didn’t know about this staff never told him this was part of the plan.

You took his hand reaching behind your pocket pulling the ring out seeing his face. His laughs slowly turned into sobs seeing all the wonderful voices and you being in front of him. His mic was cut so you two could have some privacy, Hoseok full blown sobs.

“Hoseok will you—” Hoseok intruptped you hugging you, you lifting him off the air while he cries on your shoulder. You took it as a yes smiling seeing the army light bombs switch to pastel colors. The lights of support.

Park Jimin: ˚✧₊⁎

Jimin spent his absolute hardest to not break the secret of him wanting to propose to you, buying the ring on tour. Trying to sneak by all the people and cameras to get the privacy he needs to buy a ring and keep it a secret from you.

Of course he asked all of the members, knowing he can count on them for any advice espically if it was life changing advice. They all asked what his idea to propse and he was kinda out of focus, that he just wanted to do it! Jimin wants to make it official that you’re his soulmate and lover for the rest of his life.

At first Jimin couldn’t decide on the ring, he went to multiple shops all over the world. Sometimes saying no to saying he’ll contact them if he agrees with them. Sighing once he got back to the hotel seeing the photo frame he took everywhere of you two.

“I’ll find you something perfect just like you.”

On one of the many ring looking days you decided that mid day of him looking through rings you wanted to face-time him. Panicking he answers.

“Where are you?” You ask when he turns around away from the rings, only seeing a fancy dark room with special painting. “Is that a jewelry store?” Again you pushed it seeing Jimin look around.

“Yeah just buying some jewelry for myself.” Lying Jimin hopes you buy it. He never lies to you but this was for the greater good.

The last day, the last tour date Jimin finds that one. The one that screams you, the perfect shiny metal ring he bought it in a instant once he laid his eyes on it. The velvet box softly placed in his palm once he bought it.

The day you two got back together, face to face finally. Kissing him at the private section of the airport. You saw many people pass by such as security and the members, but they stopped wrapping around you two like a circle. It was go time for you, you two being protected from the swarms of people.

You got down on your knees and before you could say a thing Jimin laughs throwing his head back, no way this was happening. You were not proposing at the same time he was.

“Funny you said that.” Jimin pulls the velvet box from his bag, you looking up still on your knees in utter complete shock.

“Is that a yes?” You ask. Him dumbfounded that you ever think he wouldn’t say yes.

“Of course!” Jimin and you exchange rings almost like you two were already married. Feeling like home seeing Jimin’s chuckles and just his face.

Kim Taehyung: ˚✧₊⁎

Taehyung and you two went out just a casual dinner but fancy enough you two dressed for. Taehyung doing his hair while you took your chance of his distraction to check everything. The ring? Check. Breath fresh? Check. Looked nice? Check.

Walking in at the restaurant, sitting at the usual spot sharing and catching up. The funny stories while he was on tour and you sharing what you did when he was gone. Sharing your hobbies and their progress.

“You’re wearing the scarf I gave you.” Taehyung presses his hand on the warm fabric around your neck. Taehyung always shared his fashion discovers with you, always wanting to try new things.

“Of course of course.” You repeat yourself, when the main meal was served you felt the heat rise up. Didn’t know if it was the restaurant or the sudden realization that you’re going to propose in a few minutes. Drinking the cold water trying to cool off, seeing Taehyung enjoying his meal.

Once he was done, you walked around to his side. Him wondering what you were doing till you spoke to him, the loving eyes. The eyes that first spoke to him, the spark so great it could produce electricity. Kneeling down Taehyung was seconds from answering your question.

“Water?” A watior obviously new to the job asks.

“No.” Taehyung blurts out, you looking at him and then the waiter wondering who he is saying no to.

“What are you saying no to me? Or him?” Once again asking, thinking this couldn’t get worse.

“Water?”

“I said ‘No’” Taehyung said again, your knees starting to hurt from still kneeling while this was happening. Finally the waitor gets the memo to let you two have a moment.

“I’m sorry sir, I thought you were tying your shoe.” The waitor gets flustered, not trying to get fired on his week of this new job. Taehyung couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“You get a yes from me. Why would you ever think I wouldn’t say anything else?” Pressing his lips against yours. This was the story for the books, to share with generations.

Jeon Jungkook: ˚✧₊⁎

When you knew you wanted to marry this beautiful gorgeous man your mind went completely blank because you didn’t want to overboard him with a jazzy dancing group that is singing Bruno Mars but you also didn’t want to just take him out. You wanted to make it special. Somehow.. you could make it something unforgettable.

So when you were brainstorming with the rest of the members because well they know him just as much as you do maybe more. They gathered in a circle spilling ideas back and forth others were interesting like scuba diving with sharks while the sharks mouth would have the ring. That was quickly put off the table. Trying to grab each element of each idea that the members shared.

The idea came together, to bring the love of sweets that Jungkook had and combined it with the ring. Somehow you arranged it with the bakery the one that has known you two for years that have seen the relationship grow.

Jungkook was excited, basically jumping in the seat when you drove them there. You told him the excuse of a decorate your own cupcake event they were holding. Opening the door you heard the little ring, Jungkook waving at the cashiers that he considers friends.

“We are here for the decorate your own cupcake thingy!” Jungkook cheers seeing the cupcakes freshly baked on display. You nod at the cashiers giving the code, smiling at Jungkook they lead you two to the back.

It was obvious which one had the ring so you wouldn’t end up proposing to yourself. Jungkook was passed the ring cake, going more into the bakery the place filled with treats and creams to put on the cupcake.

With Jungkook’s hands the cupcake was quickly drowned in sweets, you wondering how he could eat so much sugar. Settling with your favorite, you saw Jungkook finally finish, placing them together Jungkook's mess of a cupcake but it was a cute mess.

When you two sat down, you couldn’t even eat your own cupcake the nerves hitting your stomach the most. Smiling you bite into your cupcake almost choking on it when you saw Jungkook eat it all whole.

“Jungkook!” You scream out when he swallows it, the chews he made. Shocking that he didn’t bite on the actual ring didn’t need to pay for dental care.

“What?” Jungkook tilts his head, you seeing the bakery workers trying to hold in their laughter. You rubbed your temple with your hand.

“I was going to propose.”

“Oh- well you still can, where is the ring?” Jungkook asks seeing there was no different reaction after he said that. Jungkook connected the pieces looking back at the bakery workers.

“I’m sorry!” He screams out, getting out of his chair standing pushing your head into his chest. Saying sorry over and over.

“Do you guys have ring pops?” Jungkook asks, the workers looking at each other before taking out some donuts. That will work, the proposal ended up you two having donuts around the ring finger.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Can I have a Virgil and Logan getting a reptile or any type of anphipiom? Thanks hun. 🖤

Of course!Warnings: There is a snek, Deceit’s there too but he’s not named and it’s a blink-and-you-miss-it appearance, mostly just a lot of fluffPairing: Analogical

     Virgil tried not to grumble too much as he fought his way down the street, winds strong enough to uproot a tree fighting back as rain poured down. Frustrated, he slipped into the nearest doorway he saw, happy for even a second partially out of the awful conditions.

     Running a hand through his absolutely drenched hair, Virgil let his mind wander to the more important matter of the day: his tenth year anniversary with Logan. Ten years ago today he and the cutest nerd he had ever met had gotten married, and Virgil wanted to get him something special for the anniversary.

     He had already bought a unique selection of ties he just knew Logan would love, and had dedicated many hours of his life to convincing a certain jelly maker manager to produce a certain jelly for the day. But after every amazing thing Logan had done for him, even just being honored enough to be married to him… Virgil just wanted to make this an amazing anniversary.

     The door he was almost leaned against opened, startled him out of his thoughts. He looked to find a man holding it open, visible eyebrow raised, the other covered by a snake that was lazily coiled in his hair and over his face.

     “Can I help you?” He asked, the snake on his head hissing quietly as he spoke. “Because otherwise, you’re in the way of my customers.”

     Virgil was about to apologize and face the storm once again before he caught a glimpse behind the man. The store behind him was filled with terrariums filled with lizards and snakes. Virgil’s eyes widened slightly as he got an idea.

     “Actually, I think you can.”

     ~~

     Virgil closed the door as quietly as he could, hoodie draped over the box under his arm in case that failed.

     “Virgil? Is that you?”

     Looks like it failed. Deciding Logan must be somewhere in the kitchen, Virgil quickly dashed for the living room, throwing a blanket over the box as he put it next to the coffee table, where his other gifts and Logan’s were.

     Logan came out into the living room, hearing the noise. He tilted his head when he saw Virgil wasn’t in his hoodie and, consequentially, even more soaked than he had been earlier. “Virgil, dear, you’re drenched.”

     Virgil smiled awkwardly at Logan, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s really stormin’ out there.”

     “Why isn’t your hoodie on?”

     “I, uh…” Virgil hesitated, searching for a viable answer, “I thought holding it over my head would work better?”

     “With this wind?” Logan asked, incredulously, stepping closer to Virgil to rest the back of his hand on his forehead. “You’re not sick, are you?”

     “What? No!” Virgil responded, though he made no move to get away from Logan’s touch. Ten years married and he was still a touch-starved gay disaster.

     Logan tutted. “You normally only make stupid, boring decisions when you’re running a fever. Doesn’t matter, you’re definitely going to get sick now.”

     “I’m insulted. What do you mean by stupid, boring decisions?”

     Logan smiled and moved his hand from Virgil’s forehead to cup his cheek. “I am the only one in this relationship with, as you might put it, any brain cells. You just normally make stupid decisions for some sort of odd thrill. Holding your hoodie over you instead of wearing it was just plain stupid.”

     Virgil placed a hand over Logan’s. “And yet, you married me.”

     “And I’ve only regretted it a few times.” Logan said, chuckling at Virgil when his expression became laughably indignant. He kissed him before pulling away and heading towards the kitchen. “Get changed, and we can have dinner.”

     “Can dinner wait?” Virgil asked, flinching to himself when Logan turned back around, looking both confused and concerned. “I uh… want to open gifts first.”

     Logan still looked confused, but he nodded. “I confess, my plan for dinner went…less than admirably. We’re waiting for the pizza anyways.”

     Virgil smirked. “I thought you had a master plan for the best anniversary dinner yet?”

     Logan looked away from Virgil, though he still caught the tiny smile he had along with an embarrassed blush. “Surprisingly, my dedication to the night and you did not, in fact, give me the ability to cook.”

     Virgil laughed as he headed up the stairs to change. “I could have told you that, Lo. I think I did, actually.”

     “Oh, just get changed.” Logan called back, trying to sound annoyed, knowing that Virgil caught the obvious warmth in his tone anyways.

     After a few minutes, Virgil returned in his softest pajama pants and a black sweater. Catching Logan’s light disapproving stare, he said, “I’ll get changed for dinner, but right now, I am cold and partially wet. I deserve this.”

     “And so much more.” Logan added softly, smiling when Virgil flushed, expecting a mock and not a compliment.

     “Just open your presents, dork.” Virgil responded after a moment, trying and failing to sound as collected as he had been a minute ago.

     Logan did so, marveling over the ties and talking about how they happened to compliment every outfit in his wardrobe in some way. He then almost fainted when he pulled out the jelly- a jar of Crofter’s specialty ‘Loganberry,’ this one with the silliest photo of him Virgil could find on the lid. It also happened to be Logan’s favorite flavor.

     “I thought they stopped making Loganberry?” He asked, in awe.

     “I have my ways.” Virgil responded slyly, deciding he didn’t need to talk about how he both begged and threatened the Crofter’s representative he had talked to in order to get them to search the warehouses for an extra jar.

     “I don’t deserve you.”

     “Aw, Lo, as much as I love the humility-”

     Logan glared at Virgil, though he looked too amused for it to mean anything. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

     Virgil held a hand to his heart when he realized Logan had been looking at the jelly. “I’ve been replaced by a jar of jelly?”

     “Yes.” Logan replied as seriously as he could muster while he put the jar to the side.

     “Fine, then.” Virgil said, crossing his arms and looking away. “I demand gifts to honor my passing as most important thing in your life.” Virgil continued, deciding to keep the box a secret gift to give very last. Because as loathe as he was to admit it, Virgil may have picked up a few dramatic tendencies from his brother.

     “Well, one of them is burnt in the kitchen.” Logan said, glancing in the direction of the destroyed gift. “I really should have guessed that would have failed.”

     “So far, your gifts displease me.”

     Logan chuckled before pushing a box at Virgil. “Try the not-burnt one.”

     Virgil opened the box, pushing aside a sheet of tissue paper to pull a sheet of metal. It wasn’t very large, roughly the size of his hand (much too small for the box, actually), with a line running through. The line was completely horizontal save for a single vertical wave line through the middle of it. He raised an eyebrow at Logan, who had a hand over his mouth. “What is it?”

     “A g note.” Logan confessed, laughing a little as Virgil frowned at him. “Don’t hate me! Roman gave me the idea.”

     “First he ruined my life by being born in the same womb, now he’s ruining my marriage.” Virgil complained.

     Logan rolled his eyes. “You think too little of me. Look under the second layer of tissue paper.”

     Virgil put the sheet to the side, doing as his husband said, wondering what he would find. Beneath the tissue paper was a second metal sheet, this was as large as the box, with two lines running through it. These ones were clearly audio lines. He looked up at Logan, who was still smiling, but softer now. “What is this one? Death of a Bachelor?”

     Logan scoffed, but the tender look in his eyes didn’t change. “It’s our wedding vows.”

     Virgil looked back at the metal, noticing now tiny inscriptions of ‘Logan’ and ‘Virgil’ for the top and bottom lines, respectively. “Oh.” He breathed quietly.

     “It’s good they weren’t very long, too- I got the biggest sheet they had, and even then the nice lady doing the work was worried it wouldn’t wor-”

     Logan was cut off when Virgil, now clutching the metal to his chest despite the awkward way it rubbed against his arms, moved forward to kiss him. When they broke apart, Virgil smiled, eyes only a little watery. “Love, it’s perfect.”

     Logan smiled back. “No, Virgil, you are. This is just a reminder of the day I got lucky enough to call that perfect mine.”

     Virgil laughed. “You’re so sappy. Besides, I’m the one who got lucky. You’re my universe.”

     “And you’re my starlight.” Logan returned. Virgil blushed before pulling away from Logan, gently putting the metal sheet down before reaching for the covered box.

     “Alright, listen, this was supposed to be a surprise gift for you at the very end, but now you’ve gone and done this, so even if you have another gift just- eh- just take this.” Virgil said rapidly and partially incoherently as he shoved it at Logan.

     Logan smiled as he pulled the blanket off. His smile grew wider, and more shocked, when he saw what it was. “Is this…?”

     “A blue-tongued skink?” Virgil finished. “Yeah.” He then itched his neck again, awkwardly looking away from Logan. “I hope you like him. The breeder said that they’re good for beginners, so it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle, and I thought the blue tongue, eh, kinda looks like yours after you’ve had a lot of Crofter’s? Maybe this was stupid-”

     “No, no it isn’t!” Logan said, stopping Virgil by grabbing one of his hands excitedly. “I love him, Virgil, really.”

     Virgil let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Good. I’m glad.”

     Logan then chuckled, and Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Actually…it’s a little funny you get me him.”

     “Why?” Virgil asked, worried.

     Logan, still holding his hand, helped him up and pulled him to the guest bedroom. Virgil was still confused until he saw the glass enclosure sat on the desk against the wall. Within, there was a red snake with black and yellow stripes.

     “This was my secret present.” Logan confessed as he and Virgil approached it. “A milk snake. They’re easy to take care of, and I hope the red colouring is bright enough you won’t have to worry about accidentally losing him. He stands out.”

     “Wh-when did you get him?” Virgil asked, trying not to feel guilty that his own living gift was a spur-of-the-moment buy.

     “About a week ago. I know you don’t really come in here, so I set him up in here.” Logan said, looking thoughtful. “We probably will have to go and buy him more supplies tomorrow, however, seeing as I only purchased the basics to keep him a secret.”

     “I barely have enough stuff to keep your blue-tongued friend for a week.” Virgil said. “He’ll need a store run too.”

     The sound of a doorbell rang just then, and Logan nodded as he headed for the door. “But that can wait for tomorrow.”

     Virgil smiled and followed. “Yeah, it can.”

     Half an hour later, they were curled up on the couch, Logan’s blue-tongued lizard (named Berry) moved to live next to Virgil’s milk snake (named Danger Noodle, though Logan strongly opposed the name). The pizza box was sitting on the coffee table, their own plates haphazardly set on the couch as they slowly abandoned eating to snuggle, only partly paying attention to Parks and Rec as it played. Logan was even in his unicorn onesie after Virgil insisted that proper attire for eating pizza on the couch was, in fact, not nice clothes but pajamas.

     “Hey, Logan?” Virgil said, nestled as closely to Logan as he possibly could be.

     “Yes, Virgil?”

     “I love you.” Virgil said quietly, leaning his head on Logan’s shoulder and somehow getting even closer.

     Logan smiled sweetly, gently pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I love you, too.”

[imagethat]

Jenny | Nico x Female Reader

This one's for the girls, I try to keep everything gender neutral but I really wanted to write something to the song Jenny. Nico x Female Reader~

You had known Nico ever since the two of you were kids. She was always just as excitable, ambitious, and talented as she was now. The way her eyes lit up when she got an idea, how she'd ramble on for hours, or request your help in the garage. You couldn't help but fall in love with her. As the two of you drove towards the phone booth Nero had rang from you tapped your fingers on the seats handle.

Jenny darlin, you're my best friend

It was a month into the Quipoths reign over Red Grave. You, Nero, and Nico have been working night and day to help any survivors.

But there's a few things that you don't know about

You had to slam your hands on the dashboard to keep your face from smashing into it first as Nico leaned out the window to chat with Nero. "No! Not that one! Next to it!" She pointed, wanting the demon part clearly. You internally laughed at how much of an airhead Nero could be, whether it was intentional or not. As Nico fashioned the new demon part into a work of art, you decided to check on Nero. The demon he took down was pretty big after all. "Fuck I need some fresh air." Nero said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Suit yourself." Nico said from her work station, cigarette lit in her mouth even as she worked. Nero grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the van.

Why I borrow you lipstick so often, or how I'm using your shirt as a pillow case

"Ow!" You hissed as he released you. "So!?!?" He asked. "So what?" You questioned, already knowing well what he wanted to hear. "You know what!" He replied with a pointed look. "You get injured so conveniently and I leave so you two have the whole van to yourself and you still don't do anything!" Nero said while crossing his arms. You did have the van all to yourselves but what are you supposed to do. Just be like 'hey I've been mega crushing on you hardcore and like I dont know if you like women but if you do then like maybe we should be together.' You cringed at even the thought of it. "I… I can't do it Nero! I'd rather just be friends… that way I won't risk losing anything." You said while pressing your back to the van and sliding to the ground. You buried your face into your knees. "I already know though, you don't need to remind me." You added quietly. The situation was already grim and some nights the thought you'd never make it back to Nico at all was overpowering. The demons were growing stronger, and at this point in time you three still thought Urizen killed Dante. Unaware he had miraculously survived. Nero sighed softly before crouching down. "Listen, you know Nico well and I know Nico well. She cares for you a lot." He said. You could tell he was being honest, but the thought of telling her scared you. Would you never be able to return to building your motorcycle with her? Would trips to the beach be awkward after this? Your thoughts spun around. The door slammed open and hit something metal. It was Nero's arm, and had he not stopped it, it would've hit you. "Hey! Careful with my-" Nico demanded before noticing you behind the door. "Shit sorry!" She said in a panic. You forced a smile and reassured her it was fine. "Alright! Come see what I've cooked up!" She exclaimed excitedly, Nero following her back into the van. But not without giving you a certain look.

I want to ruin our friendship

Later that night you took over the driving so Nico could get some needed rest. She seemed so peaceful. You didn't have any spare blankets in the van, so you draped your jacket over her instead. The phone rang, but lucky for you Nico was a pretty heavy sleeper. "Where are you?" You asked and Nero ignored you. "So!?!?" He demanded and you slammed the phone back into the holder. He was a persistent jackass and kept trying to call until you had to turn off the phone. By the time you did, Nico was awake though and looked a little displeased. "Somethin' happening hun?" She mused groggily. "No, no! Everythings fine. Nero is just being annoying as usual." You reassured in a soft tone. She nodded and searched for her glasses, unable to find them in the dark. You grabbed them from the dash and slid them carefully onto her face.

We should be lovers instead

Your hand lingered for a moment too long before you pulled away. Thankful it was night, because the dusk hid your blushing cheeks. "Sorry!" You quickly said before taking your seat again. "You can go back to sleep, I've got this. Don't worry." You said with a smile. She tucked herself back in with your jacket, which made your face burn even worse. 

I don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend

These feelings would continue to consume you the way they had for months. The first time you realized you had them was one time when the two of you were working in the garage on a truck. You always teased her, saying it looked like a toy truck. But having something that could go off road would really help with getting more jobs. The thing was her prized joy and the two of you built it from the frame up. Adding your own flare to the inside with decorations too. "We have to test it!!!" She cheered, hands clenched near her chest. It took a good half hour before she convinced you. "No crazy driving though! We still need to do a bit more work." You warned while climbing into the passenger seat. She squealed and climbed into the driver's seat. The ride seemed to be going well and was tame for her until she spotted a completely empty parking lot. You could see it in her eyes. "Nico no!" You cried as she drove over the sidewalk into it, starting to do cookies in the parking lot. Part of the tire had lost traction though and simultaneously the power steering gave out. Causing the steering wheel to become too hard to turn. You could feel the momentum and Nico let out a scream. You were quicker, unbuckling your seatbelt and moving into her lap almost. You were part demon, and stronger than her, so you had no problem turning the wheel as you flicked through the gears. When you finally came to a stop that showed no sign of tipping you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Your chest heaving for air, Nico's doing the same. She was used to stuff like that, but even it had frightened her. In this moment of closeness though, your legs lightly tangled together, your noses almost touching as you looked at her. It burned in your chest. You buried your face in her shoulder as you laughed at the pure luck you had just encountered. She hugged you tightly. "You're a gift from god, you are a gift from fucking god." She sang through her breaths. Suffice to say you drove back and made a pact to never tell Nero because he'd never let you live it down. You got lost in your thoughts, recalling every good time you've had with her. 

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about stealin your stuff now and then

Nero knew about your feelings early on and joked about how Nico was blind for not being able to see them. The only reason you think he knew though was because one time you had gotten completely covered in demon gunk so you borrowed one of Nicos shirts. And you had carelessly worn it in front of Nero when he came to hang out at your house. When he offered to take it back to her you got flustered and tried to lie and say it was a gift. But he knew. Oh he knew. You always gave Nico extra attention, taking hard missions just to get her new materials. Offering to buy her food so you could see her. 

Nothing you'd miss but it means the world to me

But most telling of all was when Nicos birthday rolled around. You spoiled the girl senseless with all the attention, demon parts, and gifts you could afford. The thing she adored most though was a tiny sterling silver heart necklace you had bought her. Sure, it was a little tacky, but it was small and clung close to her neck. You knew she wouldn't want anything too fancy. Later that night all of you had gone to a club, just to dance and enjoy her special night. Nero stayed away from you two because he could see the way you laughed and danced with her. Your eyes gleaming, even in the slightly dark disco room. But the way the lights landed on Nico as she moved, you couldn't help but be mesmerized. 

I wanna ruin our friendship we should be lovers instead but I don't know how to say this because you're really my dearest friend

As your thoughts become overbearing, you gave into sleep. How you wanted to hold her right now. You woke up to the sound of Nico tinkering. She noticed you sit up immediately and dropped a wrench in surprise. "Oh my god I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you!" She said apologetically. "It's fine, you've gotta be ready for the day n all." You hummed tiredly as you stretched. "Oh my god I'm so sore." You whimpered, not used to sleeping in the drivers chair. You got up and made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up for the day. As you made your way out, informing Nico you were joining the hunt again, she stopped you. She seemed embarrassed, hiding something behind her back. "What is it?" You asked curiously with a confused expression. "C-close your eyes and hold out your hands!" She demanded. You followed her orders and tried to guess what she placed in your hands. "Open!" She exclaimed. You opened your eyes to find your weapons in your hand. But she had improved them by heaps and bounds. "Oh my gosh! Thank you!" You said excitedly, wanting to test them out. "O-of course, I've been saving up parts to make 'em really good." She said while averting her eyes from yours. "R-really?" You questioned and she nodded. "Yeah, but don't tell Nero! It's only free for you!" She exclaimed and you nodded while smiling. "Of course!" You said while offering a pinky. She locked hers with yours and nodded with a grin. "Alright, if that's all, I'll be on my way. Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, making your way to the door again but she stopped you. 

Jenny take my hand

She was holding your hand from across the counter, and before you could turn to face her she had ducked below the counter and gotten behind you. Placing her hands on your shoulder blades. It made you shudder but you kept deathly still. "Nico?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't one to be tender with anyone but in this moment she seemed so soft. Her arms wrapped around you from behind. Was she… Crying??? She wasn't one to cry either. She wasn't worried about the demon outbreak until you had been injured and had to stay with her in the van. The wound was pretty deep and if you were honest, you got lucky. She pressed her face into your shoulder. The past few days you had been too absorbed in your thoughts to notice how she had changed or how much she was working. "Stay safe out there." She said quietly, giving your stomach a squeeze. Slowly your rested your hands on top of hers.

Cause we are more than friends, and I will follow you until the end

"I will." Was all you could manage to squeeze out. You don't know how long you two stood like that before you peeled her hands from you so you could turn and face her. You hesitated for a moment before raising your hands to her cheeks. Rubbing away the remnants of her tears softly with your thumbs. "I will, I promise." You repeated in a more affirmative voice. She nodded before leaning in. You closed your eyes as you accepted her kiss. Her lips were soft and you could taste whatever chapstick she had used earlier. You got caught up in the moment as she leaned into you more heavily. You wished you could stay like this forever, in this perfect moment. You pulled away slowly and rested your forehead against hers. 

[useless-slytherclaw]

Chapter 14: The Order

Even though the dining-room door was closed, the sound of laughter and talking bubbled out around it.  Tonks rushed forward, but Regulus moved with more care.  It was odd to hear so much laughter in this house. 

Tonks swung open the dining room door and the sound flowed out into the hallway.  Regulus glanced over his shoulder, but his mother didn’t start screaming.  Tonks vanished through the door, but Regulus couldn’t help but hang back.  He’d never been a fan of social events and this one was no different.  How many of the people in there would he even know?

“Come on,” Iset said. “It has to be less scary than one of your mother's dinner parties.”

“Anything is less scary than one of those dinner parties,” Regulus replied and took the step forward and through the door.

The table was covered in various dishes, and people milled around.  Sirius was in the middle of giving Tonks a hug.  He looked over her shoulder at Regulus.

“I’m surprised you came down,” he said after he released Tonks.

“Well, I can’t work with the racket, so I figured that I might as well.”

“Fair enough.  Well, it seems that almost everyone is here.” He reached down and tapped a spoon against his metal goblet, releasing a bell-like sound that quieted the crowd.

“Hello everyone.  I’m very glad to see all of you.” He pointed his hand at Regulus.  “This is my brother, Regulus.  Technically, this is his house now so, you’ll be seeing him around.  This is Iset Senusret, she’ll also be around.  That’s all!”

Regulus felt all of their eyes on him.  He saw the shock in the faces of the older Order members and confusion on the younger ones.  Several younger people shouted greetings and people waved before turning around.

“That was unnecessary,” Regulus said with a scowl.  

“Nonsense, it’s faster this way.”  Regulus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  

Tonks reappeared and offered Iset her hand.  “Miss Senusret, sorry I forgot to introduce myself.  My mother tried to teach me manners, I swear.”

Iset laughed and shook her hand.  “It’s no problem.  It’s just Iset though.”

“I’m curious about that,” Sirius said.  “You said the same thing to Moody.  I remember you being very formal.”

“People change, Sirius.” Iset said, “at least they are supposed to.”  

Sirius rolled his eyes.  “You don’t want people using your last name.  Why?”

“Sirius,” Regulus said, teeth gritted, “Leave it.”

“You guys were always so proud of your family names,” Sirius said motioning to Regulus and Iset.  “I want to know what changed.”

“One,” Iset said, voice cold.  “It’s my grandfather’s name, not my family name.  We don’t have a family name; it’s too modern.  Two: my family is a very ancient line full of powerful wizards, which is deserving of respect.  Three: the name is not mine to claim anymore.”

“Sure,” Sirius said lazily.

Iset’s face was growing pale with tightly controlled rage.  “I’m sure you can imagine. Mr. Black why someone wouldn’t want to hear their family name all the time.”

Sirius leaned away from her when she spat his name as if the name was a physical assault.  Iset turned on her heel and walked towards the door.  The first few steps were angry, as if she was going to storm out.  But in an impressive example of self-control, she melted back into the decisive steps she normally used.  

“Sirius!” Remus had appeared over his shoulder.

“Damn it,” Regulus said, glaring at his brother.  “Why do you have to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

The people closest to them had turned to watch at the sound of angry voices.  Ignoring them, Regulus turned and moved to follow Iset, but she raised her hand to halt him.

“I’m fine.  I’m just going to the washroom; I’ll be back.  You have company.  It’d be rude to ignore them.”

“As you wish,” Regulus said, still glaring at his brother.  

“Sirius,” Remus was saying sternly.  “That was entirely uncalled for.”  Sirius tried to protest, but Remus cut him off.  “As she said, you should know more than anyone how sensitive names can be.”  

Regulus walked past Sirius and into the room, slamming his shoulder into his brother’s as he walked away.  After a few steps, he managed to relax his gate, hiding his anger behind a well-practiced veneer of civility.  Weaving around the room to avoid groups of people, Regulus made his way to the back corner where an intricately carved sideboard sat.  Tapping his wand on the doors and murmuring a spell, he opened it and pulled out some of his father’s bourbon into a glass.  He closed the door and leaned against the sideboard.  He kept his eyes on the door, waiting for Iset to return.  

“Hello there!” A pair of voices said to his right.  Turning to look, he found himself face to face with a pair of smiling, identical red-headed boys.  His first thought was the Prewett Brothers.  But, that couldn’t be correct, the Prewetts would be well into their 30s if not their 40s by now.  Maybe they were the Prewett’s kids; though, with the red hair, they could be Weasleys.  

“So,” one of them said.

“We’re wondering who exactly you are,” said the other.

“It’s like Sirius said, I’m his brother.”

“Come on.  We know there’s more to it than that.”

“You’re our age, but you didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

“Sirius never mentioned a brother.”  

“Plus, you only show up after Sirius miraculously survived a fight everyone thought was fatal.”  They took turns talking, and Regulus found it a bit overwhelming.  

“Who are you?” He said instead of answering.  

“Fred Weasley,” said the one on the left.  

“George Weasley,” said the other one.

“At your service,” they said together.  Regulus resisted the urge to groan.  They had way too much enthusiasm.  

“Didn’t they,” Regulus gestured to the room at large, “explain what happened with Sirius.”

Fred snorted, and George laughed and said: “They don’t tell us anything.”

“Everything is ‘need to know’,” Fred said with air quotes.  

Regulus felt a bright burn of irritation.  It had been the same way with the Death Eaters.  Kids doing as they're told, not getting any information, and being shoved right into the line of fire.  

“Well,” Regulus said, crossing his arms.  “Since I’m not in The Order: Sirius died.  I died seventeen years ago.  When Sirius came through the veil using the archway in the Department of Mysteries, the veil didn’t completely close.  Iset saw that and we all came back through.”  

Two identical expressions of disbelief met his words.  For a long moment neither of them spoke, so Regulus continued.  “You can go look at the family tapestry.  My picture and name are on there along with the day I was born and the day I died.”  

The two boys looked from Regulus to each other.  They appeared to have some sort of entire conversation because they nodded and turned back to Regulus with grins.

“Wicked!” they said together.  

“Hey,” one of them said, Regulus had forgotten which was Fred and which was George.  “Can we have some of whatever you’re drinking?”

“Sure,” Regulus said, pulling out his wand and opening the sideboard again.  They took the glasses with a muttered thanks.  

“Oh!” said the one who’d asked for the drink.  “This is good stuff.”

“Of course,” Regulus said with a smile.  “My father bought it.  He never bought anything cheap in his entire life.”

There was a moment of silence as they drank their bourbon.  

“I have another question,” one of the red-headed twins said.

“I have a feeling you are going to ask whether I want you to or not,” Regulus said with a sigh, returning his gaze to the door.

“Sirius said that his entire family was dark wizards.”  

“He’s not wrong,” Regulus admitted.  He spun the bourbon glass in his hand, watching the way the lights danced in the crystal.  “You want to know if I am a dark wizard.”

There was no response, just two faces full of expectation.  For a long moment, Regulus didn’t respond either.  He just kept spinning the glass in his hands, trying to think of an answer.  “I was a Death Eater, but I defected, and I died doing it.  Whether I’m a dark wizard or not,” Regulus just shrugged. 

“You were a Death Eater?” One of them exclaimed, and Regulus repressed a wince looking around.  He supposed it would get around that he had once been a Death Eater, it certainly wasn’t a secret.   It still didn’t mean that he wanted people shouting about him being a Death Eater in a room full of people whose entire goal was to defeat the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.  

“Yes,” Regulus said at a conversational volume.

“What was it like?” the other demanded.  Regulus fingers stopped spinning the glass and gripped it tightly.

“It's not something that I want to talk about.”  He could tell that they were about to ask him more questions anyway when there was a commotion by the door.  All three turned to the door.  

Iset was standing there, but so was someone else: a man with long greasy black hair and a large nose.  Regulus set his glass on the sideboard and started to make his way back through the crowd.

“This is going to be interesting,” said one of the twins behind him.

“Senusret,” Snape was saying.  Iset didn’t correct him.  “I never thought I’d see you again after you ran off to America.”

“I never intended to return, Snape.”

Snape turned and swept his vulture-like gaze around the room, which had grown quiet.  Sirius was closer to Snape than Regulus was and Snape’s eyes fell on him first.

“So,” Snape said with a sneer.  “It seems that the bad news is true; you’re back.”

“Snivillus,” Sirius said with an equal sneer.  “Seems you didn’t have the decency to die while I was gone.”

“I guess that means the little lordling is back too?”

“Do you mean Reg?” Sirius said with a smile, “I always thought you two were friends?”

“Friends?” Snape said with a cold laugh. “Regulus Black be friends with a half-blood like me?  Don't make me laugh.”

“Hello Severus, it’s been a while,” Regulus said perfectly politely, finally reaching the front of the room.  He met the man’s dark gaze unflinchingly.  

“Life is never done giving you two handouts is it?” Snape asked, face tight with anger.

“Boys,” Iset said lightly.  “You’re making a scene.”  Regulus sensed that she wanted to say ‘you’re acting like children’.  

“Never thought I’d see someone as smart as you mixed up with these two, Senusret,” Snape said.  He gave her a dirty look.  “I guess money always talks.”

Iset set her jaw, but before she could say anything, Regulus broke in.  “Don’t speak to her like that.”

“Oh?” Snape said, eyes darting between Iset and Regulus.  “Is that how it is then?”  He smiled and turned his back on them heading towards the door.  Sirius opened his mouth, but Remus put a hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

Snape stopped at the door.  “Don’t try and play the hero, Regulus.”  He turned to look at Regulus.  “Everyone knows you just didn’t have the stomach to do what the Dark Lord wished.  You ran away like a dog with a tail between its legs.”

“I’m not a hero,” Regulus said calmly.  “But neither are you.  I’d bet a thousand galleons you only changed sides once you realized that the Dark Lord wasn’t going to make a special exception for that little red-haired mu-” he stopped himself sharply.  “Muggleborn you were always following around.  From what I hear she married someone else.  Can't say as I blame her.”

“You-” Snape’s face was white with rage.

“Don’t bother Regulus,” Sirius said, “Severus here has never had a thousand galleons in his life.”

Snape sent both of them vicious glares before stalking out of the room.  There was a long silence until Iset said, “Always great to see old schoolmates, right?”

Several people laughed and the tension was broken.  Iset moved to Regulus’ side.  Running her hand down his arm, she gave him a look that said ‘don’t worry about him’.  He didn’t care about Snape’s opinion of him, it had never been very important.  His eyes moved around the room.  He was more worried about the fact that he had almost called Lily Evans a mudblood in front of most of The Order of the Phoenix.  However, no one seemed ready to accost him, so he relaxed a bit.

“Let’s go,” Regulus said quietly.  “We’ll have some wine upstairs.”

“Let’s go,” Iset said with a smile. Keep reading on AO3

[youseissi]

Chapter 7 - Lonely Christmas by MX

Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5 ✧ Chapter 6 ✧ Chapter 7 ✧ Chapter 8 ✧ TBC ✧ AO3 ✧ Masterlist

The city was crowded for the holiday and Hongjoong struggled to walk through the passing couples and families scattered around the boulevard. The shallow snow descending lazily from the sky obstructed his view and he was starting to get annoyed at the prickling wet feeling when he finally spotted Seonghwa in the distance.

The older was looking up at the clouds, face illuminated by the dim sunlight and his breath visible as he sighed. The shorter fawned over the simple sight of the other’s complexion adorned by the floating white specks, one suddenly hitted the tip of his nose making him scrunch up and shake his head like a cat before pulling up his seasonally appropriate red scarf up for more protection.

“Are you you gonna come here and greet me or do you rather just keep laughing at me?” Seonghwa called out with an eyebrow raised and a soft blush spreading through his cheeks.

Hongjoong had been so busy melting over the sight that he didn’t even notice his own giggles or that he had been spotted as well. With a smile he walked the few meters of distance left between them.

“I’m sorry, you just looked so cute.” He replied playfully raising his hand to lightly pinch one of the older’s cheek, only chuckling more at his pout. He offered his hand, taking this excuse to get closer. “Shall we go have a look around?”

Seonghwa took his hand with a shy smile of his own, his leather glove grasping onto the hero’s wool one and as a fleeting thought he almost wished it wasn’t so cold, contradicting his early mental praise to how well the snow complemented the other’s beauty, just so that he could feel the other’s heat instead of the thick cloth separating them, a slight pout forming on his own face as he started pulling them towards the lights ahead.

It was Christmas Eve and after both being busy through finals and texting nonstop for a few weeks they decided to spend the festivities together, meeting up at the themed fair. The two of them walked around the stalls decorated with the seasoned lights that although early in the day still stood out brightly warming the damp greyish atmosphere.

The crowd thickened the deeper they entered the maze of stores and they soon were squished against each other as they looked through what the sellers had to offer with curious eyes.

For the start of it was mostly jewelry or clothes and as much of a fashion sense Seonghwa had, he’d rather step aside to watch the hero scavenger through it, beaming when he found an odd treasure and listening to his excited comments of what he could transform certain items into.

They eventually reached a new patch of stalls, organic honey, medicinal herbs and homemade jams on display. The older bought a few items, propolis cough drops for his roommate and special blends of tea that Hongjoong never heard of making the other insist they should sit down together to have him try them one day.

At the end of that section a bigger tent caught the hero's attention as he ran ahead to look at it, the older close behind. A mini flower shop resided inside, an assortment of fragrances and colors contrasting with the red and green background decorations.

They skimmed through them, the sight mesmerizing in it's variety and abundance, the flowers placed on rising steps all the way from the floor to the shorter's height. Some easy to recognize classics, others that they’d never seen before. Hongjoong came up to one that peaked his interest, crouching down to look at it better.

“Do you like these?” Seonghwa asked noticing the other’s fond gaze.

“Aren’t they pretty?” Hongjoong replied back looking up with a smile.

“Sword lilies, rare to come by on winter.” The guy behind the counter commented putting down the magazine he had been reading.

“Are there any you like?” The shorter asked standing up. His date looked around for a moment, scavenging with his eyes for any that stood out to him.

“These ones look nice.” He answered looking at a row of flowers settled a few steps up.

“Snapdragon, both lovely garden flowers, would you like me to prepare a bouquet?” The attendant offered straightening up on his sit.

“Ah, no it’s okay, thank you.” Hongjoong rushed to decline.

☀ ⇀ ❖

That year’s Christmas Eve Yeosang opened his door to find a huge overgrown puppy. It may have been mid afternoon already, but he had just woken up and the energy levels were already way too high. His hazy mind considered closing the door.

“I brought sweets!” Yunho stood there with a beaming smile and a big pink paper box on his hands, a duffel bag sagging over his shoulder.

His hazy mind abided to the peace offer, giving up on shutting the door on the puppy’s face for the promise of sugar. He stepped aside to let the other in, taking the box from his hands and walking towards the kitchen counter.

Yunho waited at the entrance dumbfoundedly admiring the apartment, yards bigger than his shared college dorm room. A studio with a wide living room, an open kitchen to one side and a wall of tall windows to the other.

Well lit, well furnished and clean yet what striked Yunho the most was the emptiness. Compared to Hongjoong’s wall of posters and misplaced trinkets and his own array of mementos and messy papers, it almost seemed like no one lived there, as if he had entered an interior design catalogue. No festive decorations either.

“Did you just move in?” He asked unceremoniously.

“Not really, it’s been almost a year already.” Yeosang answered, as he opened the box to peek inside. “You can just leave your things on the table and sit on the couch.”

“Mhm” The older hummed as he made his way to the glass dining table, tastefully decorated with a vase of fake red flowers contrasting with the whites and greys. Yunho couldn’t picture the younger picking those himself.

To the side of the vase a picture frame rested slightly out of place, facing the only chair at that side of the table.

“Is this your brother?” Yunho asked grasping the golden metal frame in his hands.

“Not really, a childhood friend. We were really close till the whole power thing happened.” Yeosang answered walking up behind him. He handed the older a mug filled with tea like the good host he was and grabbed the frame from his hands looking at it briefly himself before placing it back on its place.

“You look awful.” The older commented looking down at him as he brought the mug to his mouth, sweater paws wrapping around it seeking heat after coming from the cold outside.

“I just woke up.” The shorter replied flatly, not pleased to have his bare face, bed hair and beaten up oversized hoodie pointed out.

“Did you forget I was coming?” Yunho taunted with a smirk, seeing through him.

“No, I just have the worst sleeping schedule.” He actually did forget both of their plans and the holiday, but he doubted he’d wake up earlier even if he didn’t. “Anything else?”

The older snorted at the attitude as Yeosang headed for an armchair.

“I brought the titles you asked for.” The older said, resting the mug to look for his pen drive inside the bag.

“Nice.” He replied still not too awake. Yunho made his way to sit on the couch, his mug being set on the coffee table now.

“I assume Hongjoong must’ve had had other plans if you’re all the way out here about to waste Christmas marathoning anime with me.” Yeosang commented after a few moments of awkward silence.

“He’s out on a date.” He answered not meaning to sound as crestfallen as he did.

“Cute. Not feeling like going back home either?” The younger prodded a bit more.

“It’s just too far and too expensive for such a short break, I guess.” The taller said laying down onto the couch looking at the ceiling. “I’ve always looked forward to Christmas Eve because every year my family has a night out, but now that I’m not there it just means I don’t get to talk to them until tomorrow.”

A beat passed in silence, Yeosang didn’t really know what to say to that. Comforting others wasn’t really his fort.

“I mean I called them this morning already. It’s just my first Christmas away from home, so I guess I’m a bit sappy.” The older continued, trying to downplay it as he sensed the mood going down. “And you? How does your family usually spend Christmas?”

“Knowing my parents they must be at some big party or end of the year event, I’m just happy I’m not forced to tag along this year.” He replied nonchalantly, not much emotion in his voice and Yunho was the one not really knowing how to react to the younger’s lack of seasonal family spirit.

“I’m gonna order some food since I didn’t have lunch yet and then we can start. Do you want something?” Yeosang moved on, seeing that the talk was not going anywhere good. The last thing either of them wanted to do on Christmas was talk about how sad they were about it.

❖ ⇀ ⚘

San had gone on a stroll through the park near his house. His Christmas Eve was one to be spent alone this year and he wouldn’t have any problem with that if his head wasn’t so filled with thoughts. Thoughts of his past, of his childhood and of the kid that he had seen about to go through the same.

The park was deserted and he could see why. The temperature was freezing and at that area the snow was ruthless, already having covered the whole place white, but he felt that the cold did him good. It was grounding when he felt lost in his head.

He wondered what that kid was doing.

He felt bad, but that just seemed to be how life was. You are born, you go to school, school sucks, you get powers, school sucks worse and then you just run and hide for the rest of it. He didn’t want to keep thinking about it, but it kept bugging him.

Did he have someone to turn to? Was he out there hiding alone in this snow? Or had he been caught already? The fact that the last option was the most likely was depressing, but if that was the case he should just forget about it and move on. There was nothing he could do.

He eventually came to sit on a bench. It was cold and wet and he was thankful to the plastic material of his coat for protecting him from getting his pants and back soaked. He took out his phone to look at the time and his wallpaper glared back at him, a picture of his grandparents.

He planned on doing that later or on the next day, but it just tugged at his heartstrings looking at it.

“Sanie my boy! How are you?” He heard his grandma’s voice cheerfully greeting him as she picked up his call.

“I’m fine grandma, how are you?” He answered.

“Good good, you know how it is this time of year, so much cooking I can barely catch a  break!” She answered sweetly, making him think fondly at the big meal and all the seasonal snack she would make even when it was just her and the old man that would sit down to eat.

He could really use some of his grandma’s baked cookies right now.

“And grandpa?” He asked.

“He’s out right now, I think he’s out to buy me a gift, can you believe it? He’s been so forgetful lately that he must’ve forgotten to buy it sooner, but don’t tell him I told you that or he’ll be embarrassed!” Hearing his grandma cheerfully laugh about his grandpa’s antics was reassuring, it warmed him inside contrasting against the chill air that hit his face.

“Is everything okay, Sanie?” The old lady must’ve noticed the long silences and the heaviness in his voice.

“Yes, it’s all good grams don’t worry.” He answered with a sad smile and maybe just maybe his eyes teared up just a bit.

“You and Wooyoung-ya should come visit us again like you did last year.” His grandma picked at him, fond of his best friend just as much as of him.

“I’ll bring it up to him later, maybe next time. He’s back home for this one.” San answered with a chuckle.

“Ah, I see. His parents must be happy to have their child home. Such a shame to comeback on this weather though, the sea must be so cold right now.” She replied.

He was endeared at how she even remembered that his friend was from the seaside.

“Are you still gonna meet your friends today? Or did they all go home too? You know if you had told us before we could’ve gotten you a ticket…”

“No no, I’m meeting them later.” He faked a smile even though she couldn’t see him, vaguely lying. “Just thought I’d call beforehand in case I get home too late.”

“If you say so, have fun just be careful! I know you’re a big boy now, but staying out too late is still dangerous, okay?” The old lady warned.

“Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry it’ll be okay. I love you, grandma.” He said.

“I love you too, Sanie.” She answered back as comforting as always.

⚘ ⇀ ✧

Yunho was a touchy feely guy, he just was. When people felt comfortable then by default he did too and small gestures like that just did wonders in that sense so it came to be his second nature.

Yeosang was frightened of it, understandably, and the big puppy just kept forgetting. Yunho couldn’t see the younger’s aura or his true feelings anymore which threw him off quite a bit considering how he didn’t let out any visible signs for him to pick up on, at least not yet.

However exposure therapy seemed to be working wonders for Yeosang. In fact as the day progressed the younger seemed to grow more and more comfortable with it, no longer getting so surprised as Yunho got excited with the screen and clung to his arm or pinched his cheek jokingly.

When the other got past the initial frightened reaction it evolved into going stiff. But as Yunho laid his head on his lap later in the day, he could only guess Yeosang was actually very fond of skinship.

Every time Yunho moved and the other went stiff he thought it was just him being uncomfortable, but whenever he got up or distanced himself the other looked slightly bummed and then every time Yeosang had to get up to pick up something he’d come back and sit as if waiting Yunho to come back, but not really knowing how to ask or prompt him.

He would even take a wild guess and say the boy was touch starved after so long without touching a human being, which was a great problem to have around him since that was right up his alley.

He couldn’t fix everything, but he could shower this boy with love easily, he thought as he looked at him from his spot on his lap, the bottom half of his legs dangling lazily off the small couch.

Their picked series continued playing incessantly the whole day. It was one that Yeosang had first mentioned and Yunho was skeptical if it was his cup of tea, but now he was easily getting into it. It was fun to have something to talk about and bond over that distracted them, thankfully it wasn’t as awkward as he predicted when he called Yeosang to ask about holiday plans.

✧ ⇀ ☀

The couple had move on to a stall of little trinkets like decorations, charms, keychains and the likes. The ones that sparked Hongjoong’s interest weren’t too Christmas-y at all, a row of dainty little statues of animals. The front row being house pets had him directing his gaze to the golden retriever that made Yunho instantly jump to his memory.

He felt a little guilt for a second, to not be with him on Christmas when his friendship with him had been going on for much longer than whatever he had going with Seonghwa. He had been the verge of calling it off a week before, but his dear friend seemed to sense his discomfort and had come up with plans for himself at the last minute, so here he was.

He was thankful in a way, he wouldn’t have worked up the courage to call the older for this encounter if it wasn’t for him either.

A black cat sat next to the dog, and the hero thought of their new friend. Unlike Yunho Hongjoong hadn’t spent as much time with the younger boy. He was much busier than the two first years and so their encounters quarantined only to the times he went to the coffee shop.

The other was also quiet and reserved, giving the older a hard time for them to really connect, but he was fond enough of him to pick up the tiny statuette together with the first one in hopes that the three of them would all grow closer with time.

“Are you gonna buy those?” Seonghwa asked from behind him.

“Presents, for my friends.” He answered looking back.

“Aren’t you going to get one for yourself? That way you all can have matching ones.” The older suggested looking over his shoulder at the trinkets.

“Hmmm… Which one should I get then?” Hongjoong asked appreciating the suggestion, but unsure of which one to pick.

“How about this one?” Seonghwa suggests pulling one from a few row back.

“A fox?” He asked caught by surprise.

“It reminds me of you.” The older answered with a smile.

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Hongjoong didn’t see where the connection the other made came from, but he brought the third piece to the tiny basket he held as well.

“Are you getting anything?” He turned back to ask, now facing him.

“A lucky charm for my roommate, for good health.” Seonghwa replied showing a golden card, the type you’d put on your wallet, an image of some deity engraved masterfully into it. He pointed to the tabletop that he had gotten it, half filled with similar ones and another half filled with an assortment of other type of charms.

The two stood there as the hero looked through it himself, his back brushing against the other as he placed himself between the shorter and the crowd that filled the busy shop once again.

Hongjoong’s fingers brushed against a little package on the last row before he stopped himself. In it came two matching charms with straps to put onto your phone.

Clearly something a couple would buy. It caught the hero’s eyes, but thinking better about it, it might be too cute or too soon for them. The little bells foretelling luck in love didn’t match either of their styles anyway he thought, about to turn and drag them away.

“Do you want to get these ones?” Seonghwa asked, grabbing the package from behind him.

He did. “What do you think?” He asked cautiously.

“It’s cute.” The older answered with a reassuring smile. Hongjoong must have looked uneasy a second before because the other made sure to pat his head affectionately before heading to the cashier, as if to reassure him he was doing good and at that the hero could only stare at his back paralysed as his heart filled with warmth.

It was a simple gesture, but effective.

☀ ⇀ ❖

After binging a whole season, it was now late and they were deep into a movie, A Silent Voice, as a break from the series they had going on. Yunho held onto Yeosang like a support teddy bear to get through the emotional ride that was the movie, resting his head on the top of his hair while his arms wrapped loosely around his chest.

The younger’s eyes were getting watery as the movie reached its climax, tears threatening to spill, but Yunho seemed to break way easier than him.

“It’s so sad.” The older whined already hiccuping through sobs, and he could feel him shaking.

“You’re getting snot on my hair.” Yeosang pointed out flatly.

His comment caused Yunho to sniff the thickest sniff Yeosang had ever heard, and any emotion he was feeling got overwhelmed by how grossed out he was.

“I’m gonna get you some tissues.” He said trying to to get up, flailing a bit like a fish before Yunho took the hint to let go of him. The older paused the movie waiting for him, sitting up properly on the couch.

“Here.” He handed the box of tissues, sitting farther than before giving him some space.

Yunho accepted it, going through a few before he took a moment to breath. He looked like a kicked puppy with red wet eyes and he wasn’t sure it was really solely about the movie. Yeosang didn’t know what to do about it. Of all people Yunho was acquainted with, he was sure he had to be the least prepared to deal with this.

“Do you need a hug?” Before he even finished the question the other had already latched onto him. Yunho held him tightly, Yeosang’s neck straining a bit to settle on the older’s shoulder with their height difference, his arms weighted uncomfortably to the sides limply not knowing what to do with them.

“We're friends, right?” Yunho asked without moving, voice heavy and hoarse sounding fragile.

“Mhm” the younger hummed in agreement.

“I’m here for you, okay?” He continued after a moment of silence. “Always.”

“Mhm” Yeosang hummed again.

They stayed there immobile and in silence for a few more second in the dark, only illuminated by the tv light.

“I’m here for you too.” Yeosang added, surprising himself. He raised his arms to embrace the other back, squeezing lightly still unsure if this was the right things to do.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, with the way he was raised and the way his powers started manifesting he hadn’t had a friend since a very early age and by now he had forgotten how having one or how truly caring for someone felt, so he himself couldn’t tell if he words rang true, if he really did cared so much for Yunho after knowing him for such a short time. But he felt something and he wanted to hold onto that, he didn’t want to continue feeling numb and scared anymore.

Yunho squeezed him tight before moving away. The older held onto his shoulders, his thumbs brushing the sides of his neck cathartically for a moment looking at him before he took a deep breath and spoke up again. “Don’t tell anyone I spent christmas crying over anime.”

“You look gross.” Yeosang replied and the other let out a loud snort, making more snot drop out of his nose and Yeosang backed away instinctively again. “I’m gonna get a plastic bag, I don’t want your used tissues to pile up.”

“And in your defense, it’s a very respectable anime to cry for.” He added already heading to the kitchen.

“Yeah, even you cried, anyone would cry.” Yunho tried to play it off.

“I didn’t cry.” The younger answered flatly.

“You totally did.”

“I did not.”

Yunho snorted as Yeosang continued to vehemently deny it. “Bring sweets, I need sugar to get through the rest of this.”

Yeosang plated some of the gingerbread cookies Yunho had brought to keep the holiday spirit, but also pulled out a tub of ice cream for real emotional support. It wasn’t his first time watching the movie and he knew they would need it.

❖ ⇀ ☾

Mingi was sitting by the window of family dinner close to their house waiting for his order to get ready. A pile of seasonal meals and desserts to take home and eat with his roommate only in the morning, because apparently everyone else’s busy but him.

He wondered what Yunho was doing since Hongjoong was out with Seonghwa. He scrolled through his social medias hoping to spot any update from him, but nothing. A picture of his roommate and the hero popped up on his feed, a picture perfect christmas card as both smiled surrounded by the snow, bright lights and the classic decoration of the fair.

The younger scolded at the picture, half bothered by his own loneliness and half at the fact that one of the people in this picture could only be headed toward a disastrous heartbreak.

And he was hoping it wasn’t his friend, but with him he just couldn’t tell as the oldest only noticed his own feelings too late. It was a pattern that Mingi was used to by now, the other’s confidence too blinding.

Before he could get lost in thought his phone buzzed signaling a new text.

7:27 p.m

woo

hey

are you busy

have you heard anything from san

7:27 p.m

you

not really why

i havent seen san for a while

since him and seonghwa are kinda not talking rn

7:27 p.m

woo

whos seonghwa

7:27 p.m

you

my roommate

you know the one that always come pick us up when we’re all too drunk to drive

7:27 p.m

woo

ah

i think i saw him at his place the other day

i’m usually too drunk to actually care whenever i meet him

so i didn’t even recognise the dude

7:28 p.m

you

weren’t you going home for xmas

7:27 p.m

woo

my train got cancelled cuz of the snow

7:28 p.m

you

well that sucks

7:27 p.m

woo

yeah yeah i can go home some other day i dont have school like you losers

anyway

im free

and i asked san what he was doing and he said nothing special

he sounded sad so i’m storming his apartment and i need a ride

we can let you stay if you dont have anything else to do

7:28 p.m

you

yeah like i dont have anything better to do than drive your ass around on xmas eve

7:27 p.m

woo

do you

do you really mingi

7:28 p.m

you

no i dont please let me stay

i’ll be free in like ten minutes just give me time to go home and get the car

Right on cue his name was called, food ready by the counter. He grabbed it and left the place, ready for the cold walk home when a boy caught his eyes. The kid seemed young, around his age but with a baby face, but what caught his eyes was the fact that he was staring into the dinner so sadly out here in the snow.

His school uniform seemed dirty and, although he wasn’t sure, he was thinking the kid was homeless. Mingi’s Christmas wasn’t going ideally. He was everyone’s second plan, but whatever he had going on was definitely better than that kid.

The boy seemed to notice him staring after a while looking frightened. Mingi pulled one of the styrofoam boxes out of the paper bag he was carrying, glad that he had gotten so much extra food.

“Are you hungry?” He asked and the boy only nodded, taking the box he offered.

He continued on his way after that, thinking himself lucky for his new chore instead of annoyed from then on.

☾ ⇀ ✩

They had reached the end of the stalls, an open area filled with food trucks awaiting for them crowded with spaced out tables for them to sit down and admire what seemed to be the main attraction of the night.

A huge ferris wheel towered over the space, its lamps blinking beautifully over them in a warm light show. A live band stood to one side on a makeshift stage providing the dining visitors with soft christmas carols that echoed with the help of several speakers spread around.

The couple came to sit down on a random table to the side eager to rest their feet, dumping their shopping bags on the tabletop and taking a moment to breath. Hongjoong took their chance to rummage through his share of bags and Seonghwa only watched as he fished the little package they bought earlier from one of the bags.

“I just thought we should split it up before we forget it.” The hero muttered bashfully when he noticed the other eyes on him.

Seeing the fierce hero that so fearlessly jumped into fights with him every other night be so hesitant and timid was unbearably cute to him, the smiles spread through their date so endearing that Seonghwa half wanted to scold himself for enjoying it so much.

Perhaps this was when it started, the crippling realization that he had no right to be on the receiving end of those vulnerable moments, yet at that stage he was still simply pushing the thought away, favouring enjoying the night with fake naivety unknowing to the snowball this could become.

“How about we start using it already? Would you attach it for me?” The older asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket and offering it to Hongjoong, enjoying his eager reaction.

“Do you want to eat first or go on the ferris wheel than eat later?” The hero asked as he entertained himself with removing the cases of their cellphones and knotting the straps.

The villain wasn’t too excited about that, in fact he was hoping the younger wouldn’t mention the ride, although he already knew that was unlikely.

“Are you hungry? I think I saw a truck selling pizza… Is everything okay?” Hongjoong trailed off, noticing the other uneasiness. The smile on his face hesitate, dimming slightly and Seonghwa scolded himself for letting his discomfort show so easily.

“I’m just…” He started reluctantly “Not very good with heights.”

“Ah, so going on a ride like that is probably not a good idea.” The other said crestfallen.

“It’s not that serious, I’ve been trying to get over it. Last week me and my roommate tried going hiking over a bridge and I survived. Annoyed the hell out of him, but still.” Seonghwa answered with a laugh. The other seemed to cheer up a bit at the comment.

“We can go.” The villain decided.

“If you say so, don’t feel pressured I’m really okay with not going.” Hongjoong answered apprehensive still.

“No it’s okay I wanna give it a try. I’d rather eat afterwards though, just in case.” He answered with a laugh.

Hongjoong let out a chuckled as he started organizing their things again. The line to the ride was long, but they didn’t mind as they were in no rush, just enjoying the company and small talk along the way.

Seonghwa was sure he was doing a crappy job in hiding his anxiety, but fortunately the other had the sense not mention it. Their turn came way too soon despite the long wait, the ferris wheel thankfully had closed booths instead of those open seats and the villain  tried to not hesitate when getting in, convincing himself it was fine.

The wheel stopped moving as they reached the top and the view really was wonderful up there, the stars shined brightly complementing the full moon that softly lit up the dark cabin. The city down there a pretty miniature covered in white, mesmerizing until he started seeing double and his throat tightened up.

“Don’t look outside. Here, look at me.” Hongjoong called out to him, softly turning his head towards him. Hongjoong looked up at him, patiently waiting for him to calm down.

“I’m not afraid.” Seonghwa spoke up after a moment of silence, sounding almost out of breath.

“Really?” The hero asked uncertain.

“No, but… sometimes I feel like the only way some things can come true is if I say them out loud.” He answered slowly, eyes avoiding his, embarrassed to explain it out loud.

Surely it stemmed from his power, but for him words held power and the act of saying them out loud was what gave it to them. He always had to have courage to speak when he couldn’t control his power and now he used it as a way to give himself that courage back.

If only it worked. He half expected the other to laugh at the childish premise, if not to just brush it off. It probably didn’t make any sense. It was the fear talking or else he’d never tell anyone that.

“Then I’ll say it too.” The other said surprising him for a second with a ghost of a smile on his mouth.

“You’re not afraid.” Hongjoong spoke looking into his eyes with conviction in his voice. The way he firmly held his gaze almost as if daring the villain to tell he’s wrong struck something inside him, feeling his chest tightening.

Seonghwa leaned down slowly as his hand came up to cup the hero’s cheek, their lips connecting into a barely there kiss and in that moment he couldn’t think of anything else beside that sensation, the softness of his skin, the warmth that build up in his chest and how he wished it could just stay like this forever.

Hongjoong reciprocated with a comforting and grounding contrast to the other’s gentleness and hesitance, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss with much more experience as the world around them seemed to stop existing for a few moments.

The cabin shook as it began to move again and the kiss was interrupted in favor of holding on to the railings. The villain took deep breaths, his head feeling light and he was unsure if it was from the kiss or from the reminder of the situation he was in, maybe a mixture of both, but soon they were back on the ground.

The villain was glad to have his feet touch the stable concrete ground again and it didn’t went by unnoticed how the hero grabbed onto his hand immediately once they had stepped out nor his glowing smile and he could only blush and follow along still not quite recovered from the surge of feelings the ride had given him.

Hongjoong, unlike his weakened self, was estasic and ready to continue on the night and that brought a smile to his face despite still feeling the dizzying sensation that he was floating.

✩ ⇀ ⚘

The lamp’s light was the only thing illuminating the room as the trio of friends sat there. The coffee table littered with empty bottles and crumpled napkins around an old monopoly board long forgotten before anyone even came closer to winning it.

Mingi on the armchair had clocked out already, curled up on himself having fallen into a deep slumber. San sat on the floor against the couch that Wooyoung laid on. He sipped on his drink, drunkenness only lightly reaching him. He could hold his alcohol the best out of the three friends, maybe because of his power or maybe that was just the way he was, he didn’t know. By the time it finally hit him he didn’t care anymore either.

He felt a hand on his hair, carding through it comfortably and after letting himself enjoy the touch for a few seconds before he looked up at the youngest of them. Their eyes met, a long moment of silence passing just staring at each other, both of them feeling drowsy from the drinks. Wooyoung moved down giving the other a kiss, sloppy and slightly misplaced from the odd angle. San kissed back enjoying the familiarity of it.

He turned around intending on climbing up onto the couch. Like many other times before he found himself straddling the younger, their bodies fitting perfectly against each other as he reached down to trail kisses all around Wooyoung’s neck.

Sometimes when he was feeling lonely or just the slightest bit petty he’d be a bit more rough, sucking marks onto the other’s skin in hope that it’d last as a reminder to the other. That night was one of those times and he soaked up on the younger’s reactions eagerly, only getting more riled up by his whimpers and the constant sharp pull on his hair.

His hand went down to the other’s waist, fingers going under his shirt and brushing against his bare skin playfully before stilling and holding onto him. Wooyoung’s arms wrapped against his neck pulling him flush against his body and his face came up to kiss his lips once again.

The heat escalated fast, but as San’s hands started to drag down a rushed wait was whispered. Looking back at the boy under him he saw the anxiety as he bit his lips, eyes hesitant.

That too was familiar. The situation repeated itself often, both of them ready to give in and compromise till one of them suddenly didn’t, fearing the commitment of taking it a step further.

Both of them had no shame and it was a recurring joke them hoeing around. But when it came to each other they never talked about them , what they were, how they felt about what they had going on. Perhaps it was a fear of compromising such a precious  relationship, but San knew better. Both of them knew that something like that wasn’t going to get between them even if it didn’t work out.

“Isn’t it a bit weird to do this with Mingi in the room?” The younger interjected.

The perfect excuse since San’s apartment was just one room, living room and bedroom  mashed together with a communal kitchen downstairs. Moving onto his bed wouldn’t change anything.

“I don’t think he would mind.” San answered with a raised eyebrow.

The other didn��t seem convinced, so he sat back down on his lap with a sigh. His eyes flickered to a clock on a shelf indicating it was now past midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Wooyoungie.” He said with a grin.

“Is it time for my present now?” The other replied playfully. “You better have gotten me something good.”

“Here’s your present.” San answered with a mischievous tone before leaning down again, hugging the other while giving him lighthearted kisses from his cheeks to his ear, the other giggling while squirming in his grasp trying to avoid the loud noise his lips made.

Maybe it wasn’t tonight that they’d resolve themselves, but San was more than happy to settle for cuddling his Wooyoungie to sleep for now.

[koreanboyswriting]

The Halloween Party

Words: 3.4k

Genre: A spooky inspired Smut, happy hoelloween armies.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader 

❌Warnings: Dom/Sub tones, spanking, rough sex, and oral sex.❌

Your feet were fucking killing you. You bought the only costume that was left at the costume store, which left you in a tiny cop outfit, and the black heels you decided to commit to. The blue shorts were riding up your ass and instead of picking them out from between your cheeks for the tenth time you just decided to own it. Your best friend was with you wearing a similar amount of clothing except her short jumpsuit was orange, the prisoner and the warden. You had just entered the house and the entire four floors seemed to be packed.

Your best friend Gwen had some really rich coworkers which usually meant she got the two of you into some really amazing parties, you couldn’t even remember the last one because of how trashed you got. The modern house looked amazing though. The glass was covered in fake blood decals and the walls were covered in spiderwebs and caution tape. Everyone was holding festive colored glasses and the only light was coming from the large DJ booth and the flashing blue, red, and green lights.

Gwen grabbed you by the hand and pulled you over to the bar and ordered each of you, a round of shots. You laughed and shook your head as she shoved the tiny glass into your hand, but downed it anyway. After the fifth you waved your hands in surrender and Gwen didn’t force you to take another, she just took the last two herself. Your throat was burning but your entire chest felt tingly and warm from the alcohol, which was a welcome relief from the chill outside. You desperately wanted a chaser for the vodka, but Gwen said chasers were for people who couldn’t handle their alcohol, so you settled for the vodka cranberry she put in your hand and didn’t complain.

After your body was solidly buzzing, and your vision just a little impaired Gwen was satisfied enough to take you to the dance floor. You shimmied between the bodies in the hallway and into the cavernous room which looked like a club. The DJ’s booth was raised at the end of the room in front of a glass wall, the trees outside shedding their leaves, the shadows they cast on the ground creating shapes of long spindly spider legs. The hallway ended in steps which led descended down into the dance space, everyone bouncing to beat, the lights on the ceiling swiveling around and casting different colored rays around the floor. The costumes people were wearing were outrageous, all of them unique and expensive looking. You and Gwen passed a queen of hearts her wig so tall it looked like it was one head turn away from falling off her head. Another man was a spider, long hairy black legs protruding from his back. Another person was clad in an iron man suit, full metal and plastic, complete with glowing lights in each of his palms and in the center of his chest.

Once you and Gwen were at what she guessed was the center she let go of your wrist and grabbed your hand to spin you around her. You giggled and twirled like a ballerina, before dropping it low and shaking your butt to the beat. Gwen cackled and joined you, both of you yelling the lyrics from the Cardi B song to each other. Neither of you were fantastic dancers but Gwen brought out the best from you and having her around gave you the courage to twerk your ass like you had one to throw. Gwen kept sipping on her drink as you guys danced to song after song and when she tipped her cup all the way back and found nothing to greet her tongue she leaned into your ear and told you that she was going to go get another drink, you nodded rather than shout over the din of the music and kept dancing. The buzz kept you going for a minute, but after a couple moments you felt awkward dancing without Gwen, so you turned around to go find her when you collided face first with another person, sending your ass onto the dance floor.

You laid there for a second rubbing your bruised forehead, your nose and eyes tingling like you had been punched in the face with a basketball.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” You nodded in response not looking up to meet the persons eyes as he knelt down in front of you.

“Here let me look,” He gently moved your hands from your face and you looked up into the face of the Joker. The intense makeup made you jump a little and the man chuckled in response mouthing sorry again as he held your chin and moved your face from side to side examining your eyes and face.

“Do you want to stand?” He asked, after he finished looking you over. You nodded, and he grabbed your hands lifted you up, which gave you the opportunity to see his costume in full.

His face was ghostly white, and his eyes were rimmed in smoky black eyeliner, making his soulful eyes look that much more intense. The red lipstick he wore was painted out from the corners of his lips to the center of his cheeks, ending in a sharp point. He even had a little black dagger painted underneath his right eye. His chest was as pale as his face and he had tattoos stretching across his exposed collarbone and chest. The rest of his torso was covered with a brilliant green vest, closed with gold buttons. He was wearing black leather pants and a long purple coat that ended just past his knees. The entire outfit looked expensive, but somehow on him it didn’t look like a costume. It seemed as though that the pieces were just casual items in his closet that he made into a costume, all this to say that he looked casually amazing. The right side of his hair was slicked back, leaving the rest of his hair heavily parted over the left side of his face. The darks strands mixed with green hair chalk highlights.

You steadied yourself in your stilettos and walked towards the stairs as the man followed behind you; a steady hand behind you, occasionally helping you forward, his hand light as a feather on your lower back. When you made it out of the crowd you found a couple of chairs surrounding a tall table and plopped on one as the man disappeared. He was gorgeous but you were still too dizzy to get up and follow him, so you rubbed your temples and listened to the chatter from the people at the other tables next to you. The fuzzing sensation in the middle of your forehead started to subside when the man returned his shined shoes the only thing you could see, as you held your head in between your hands, when you looked up he was holding a bottle of water in his hand and was extending it out to you. You grabbed it and smiled gratefully.

“The bartender looked confused when I asked him for water,” he said while laughing. “He had to dig it out from the back of the fridge.”

You chuckled. “What was your name by the way? I don’t think I got it.”

“Taehyung.” He said, smiling at you again. “Yours?”

“Y/n. Or should I say officer y/n, for tonight at least.” You giggled.

“Pleasure to meet you officer y/n.” Taehyung mockingly bowed, and you laughed, tipping your head back, almost slipping out of your chair. You righted yourself and rubbed your temples again, Taehyung’s smile immediately fell from his face as he looked at you worried.

“Oh no, do you feel dizzy again? Should I take you somewhere? Do you think you need to see a doctor?” Taehyung was panicking as he looked you over, you just giggled softly.

“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just really loud in here and it’s making my head pound. I think I just need to go somewhere where the music isn’t blasting in my ears.” Taehyung nodded, and gently held your elbow as you stood and moved out of the room.

You turned around to look at Taehyung, “Where should we go? I’ve never been to this house before.”

“I know a spot, this is my friend Jimin’s house, he’s the host.” Taehyung’s hand slid down your elbow to hold your hand and he led you up the metal and glass stairs that were hidden in the corner of the cavernous dance room.

The upstairs area was like a large loft, there was a metal railing that led off the staircase and allowed you to look out over the large dance floor area below, but it was immediately quieter from above. You slipped your phone out of your back pocket and texted Gwen that you were upstairs with a guy, she texted back immediately, “be safe, have fun” with the roaming eyes emoji. You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone back in your pocket as Taehyung led you up another set of stairs. The whole area was chic and posh, antique furniture was set off with modern and sleek touches giving the whole room a relaxed energy, instead of sterile, which you usually associated with spaces that looked too modern. Taehyung opened a large door to the side of the lounge area and led you into a huge room that was a completely different vibe from the rest of the house.

One wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves, the spine of each book worn and soft. The rest of the other walls were covered in a mix of modern and classic artwork, the frames large and gilded or straight and simple. The bed was a soft brown wood four-poster, with a big fluffy comforter, which sat against the wall opposite the fireplace which had two cozy antique couches surrounding it. He let go of your hand and slipped off his shoes and immediately walked towards the open door in the right corner of the room, which you assumed was the restroom.

“Go ahead and sit down, I’m going to grab you a cold towel for your forehead.” He called out from the restroom.

You smiled to yourself and sat on the plush love seat and stared at the empty fireplace. This whole room looked like it had to be Taehyung’s, there was something about the space that just looked like it belonged to him, there was a personal touch. You removed your heels and sat them on the ground next to each other and held your hands in your lap, not sure if you wanted to get to comfortable yet, when Taehyung emerged from the restroom, holding a blue washcloth in his hand. He walked over to you and picked up one of the pillows from the couch, fluffed it and set back down.

“Here lay down.” You pursed your lips unsure but then laid down after a moment, crossing your legs at the ankles. He laid the cool cloth across your forehead, gently smoothing it down before sitting on the other end of the couch and putting your feet in his lap. The sudden intimacy would have had you feeling uncomfortable with anyone else, but Taehyung was so nonchalant that it made you feel safe.

You pressed the cloth into your forehead and let the coolness relax you before you spoke. “So, do you live here? This room seems like it’s yours.”

Taehyung hummed before responding, “Well the answer to that is yes and no.” He cleared his throat, “So, this is my room, but I don’t live here all the time, just when I’m in town. I’m an art curator for a museum, so I travel a lot looking for new artists and loaning different collections to other museums in exchange for exhibits from theirs and such.” He started absentmindedly massaging your feet as he talked, the warmth of his touch trickling through your body.

“That sounds fascinating!” You said, resituating the towel on your forehead.

“It is, I’ve been doing it for a couple years now and I love it, and it’s nice to have a place to sort of come home to.”

You nodded, smiling at Taehyung. He smiled back at you his eyes turning warm, the light brown of his eyes inviting you in like a molten chocolate pool. You blushed and sat up removing your feet from his lap and taking the towel off your head.

“I don’t feel dizzy anymore. I think I just needed some space from the bass vibrating through my body downstairs,” You gasped out between awkward chuckles.

Taehyung licked his lower lip, and sucked it into his mouth, running his teeth over it, his eyes right on yours. You pulled in your legs, so you were kneeling on the couch, and brushed back Taehyung’s hair from his face.

“Sorry, you had a hair out of place, it was bothering me.” You said, to excuse the sudden touch.

“Don’t apologize,” Taehyung rumbled in his warm tenor as he reached out to caress your face, “Because I don’t want to apologize for doing this.”

He pulled your face till it was inches from his and kissed you lightly, pecking you softly multiple times before increasing the pressure, you hummed in delight and moved to straddle Taehyung’s lap. He slid his hands down from your face to your waist, rocking you softly in his lap, while he kissed you with more and more fervor. You ran your hands through his hair aggressively, pulling on the tendrils while Taehyung gripped your waist hard.

He broke his contact with your lips to trail wet kisses down your neck, light moans escaping your lips as Taehyung kneaded your ass and sucked on your neck. He sucked the skin above your collarbone into his mouth, letting it go after a couple seconds, sure enough to leave a dark hickie. He then bit down on the skin and flicked it with his tongue the sensitivity shooting straight down to your core, as he did it over and over. You pulled back his head by his hair and kissed him hard on the mouth, Taehyung moaning onto your lips as he smacked your ass. You cried out, the pain hurting so good, as he pulled up your shorts more and slapped your bare skin, the tingling shooting through your body. You ground your hips into his and Taehyung smacked your ass again and you whispered out his name.

“Oh, you like that baby?” He said onto your lips.

“Ugh, yes Taehyung I do,” You mewled.

He picked you up by your ass and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the bed, throwing you on the four-poster. You giggled and winked at him as you moved up the bed. Taehyung smirked at you, the paint on his face making him look that much more sinister. He slid his purple coat off his arms and let it fall to the floor as he crawled onto the bed towards you. He kissed light pecks onto your neck and chest and slowly started unzipping your tiny jumpsuit, kissing his way down the exposed skin.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” He groaned onto your chest, grabbing your breasts roughly and sliding the jumpsuit off your shoulders, so it bunched just around your waist.

You moaned and arched your head back, his words turning you on more than any guys ever had. He was sliding his hands down your body when he stopped at your utility belt. He unclipped the pocket on the belt and slid out a pair of black fuzzy handcuffs and twirled them around his fingers, you giggled as he smirked at you.

“And what are these officer?” He said playfully.

“Something I keep on me to keep bad boys like you in check.” You said, as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

“Oh, really now?” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows. “What if I said I wanted to teach you a lesson?” He leaned down over you as he said this, his lips inches from yours.

“I might just let you,” You whispered onto his lips before he kissed you roughly, pushing you down into the mattress.

He grabbed your arms by your elbows and slid them above your head, clicking the cuff closed around your right wrist.

He broke the kiss, and propped himself up on his arm, “Are you sure you’re cool with doing this?” You nodded, smiling. Taehyung smirked and whispered, “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

He looped the cuff through the headboard and clicked the other one closed around your other wrist. He tugged on them lightly to see if they would stay and then he kneeled between your legs and started unbuttoning his vest, letting it fall from his lean frame. You licked your lips, Taehyung was just about the hottest thing you’d ever seen and your whole body craved him. He undressed slowly in front of you removing his Gucci belt and sliding off his pants that hugged his thighs to reveal designer briefs. He then slid his veiny hands down your chest again to your waist where he tugged off the rest of your jumpsuit, taking your lacy thong with it.

He bit his lip and leaned over you again kissing you on the mouth slowly and sensually, applying pressure on your throat, before kissing his way down your neck and chest, till he reached your core and flicked your clit with his tongue. Your body was already ready for him and your clit was so sensitive, the touch ignited your body, you whimpered in response and Taehyung just smirked before going down on you. He teased your clit with his tongue blowing air on it lightly and sucking it into his mouth and flicking it back and forth with his tongue. You moaned out, your body ready to burn as he took his time with you. He feasted on you slowly alternating teasing your clit with his tongue and with his fingers, until you came apart screaming his name. Taehyung kissed you on the mouth slipping his tongue between your lips and letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Ugh Taehyung, please.” You moaned.

“Please what baby?” He said, kissing your neck.

“I need you.”

Taehyung just slid down his boxers and slid his fingers through your slit, past your throbbing clit and rubbed your juices on his dick, teasing your entrance with the head. You just threw you head back breathing hard as he slid himself inside you, the full feeling about to finish  you right there.

“Move Taehyung, please!” You cried out.

Taehyung slid out of you and turned you over to slap your ass, your cried out, the tingling of your skin feeling so good.

“Patience baby, I’m in charge here.” He slapped your ass again, hard. “Who’s in charge baby?’ He asked.

“You,” you gasped.

He slapped your ass again, “That’s right.”

He turned you over again and thrust into you fully, choking you lightly, you gasped out his name and he really started moving, slamming himself into you over and over again until you screamed out. Your body shivering and shaking. Taehyung kept going holding onto your hips so hard you were sure they would bruise and he slid out and came onto your stomach, before he collapsed on top of you, flicking the latch on the left handcuff so you could slide the other through and take it off. You both laid there panting for a moment, before Taehyung rolled over and grabbed his vest to wipe the cum off your stomach.

“That was amazing,” you said, your voice a rasp.

Taehyung turned to look at you and laughed loudly.

“What?!” You asked your cheeks flaming.

“I got a little makeup on your face.” He choked out between laughs.

“Oh my gosh,” you giggled, rubbing aggressively at your face, red lipstick coming off on your hands.

Taehyung just pulled your hands away from your face and kissed you lightly. “Why don’t we just do round two in the shower?” He said smirking.

You smiled, “I thought you’d never ask.”

[noramoya]

“DON’T STOP TIL YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH : AN ARTICLE ON THE QUINCE JONES MJ TRIBUTE DEBACLE.” – SYL MORTILLA, @WordPress .

“You know how sometimes people get offended on behalf of others? Well, right now, I am seething. Positively livid. Absolutely outraged, and do you know the worst part? I am not even directly affected by what has happened here. It’s not my money involved, but I am truly appalled for you and I guess it could happen to any of us so we should not stand for it. Let me explain.

I was in London recently, deep in the underground rabbit warren, climbing up an escalator the size of Everest. As I ascended the cold metal steps, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, one of many promotional posters for forthcoming shows. Despite keeping my ear to the ground, my finger on the pulse and some say, my head in the clouds, I hadn’t heard of this one.

In fact, I was temporarily bamboozled by it. I had heard some time ago that Quincy Jones would be playing a show at the O2 Arena, but this bore no resemblance to that event.

It was still Quincy, but it contradicted my recollection that it was to be a celebration of the work of the late Michael Jackson.

Originally, this “world exclusive concert” had promised not only “three iconic albums played back to back” but went on to nail its colours to the mast by actually naming them: Off The Wall, Thriller and Bad.

I remember at the time thinking that this would be quite the spectacle, but the ticket prices were utterly exorbitant – well in excess of a hundred pounds a pop.

The new poster was so different that I questioned whether it was even the same event or if I had already missed that one and now this was the follow up show.

I felt like I was in Animal Farm, staring in disbelief at the board previously displaying the motto “four legs good, two legs bad,” adjusted to read “four legs good, two legs better,” leaving me questioning my own memory of the original.

I have since read something that confirms that I hadn’t been imagining things after all and rather than being a feverish cheese dream, the content of the concert HAS been altered to remove all remaining traces of Jackson.

Now, everyone is entitled to their opinion as to whether or not this was the right thing to do in the light of recent allegations (arising from a “documentary”) and I am not here to have that debate.

What I take issue with though is that when you substantially deviate from the original advertised line up that people have paid handsomely to see, they should be entitled to receive a full refund.

What wound me up most was the arrogant stance taken by the promoters. Disgruntled fans have received a response from them explaining: “the show’s content has not changed. Songs from the three Michael Jackson albums will be played, alongside tracks which celebrate era-defining music. Therefore, we are unable to offer refunds.”

Now, let’s just think about this for a second. They’re claiming that it’s the same show as before. I mean, I guess they have got a point – after all, it is still Quincy Jones and seats are every bit as expensive as they were before, but the actual music? Well, that could not be more different.

The show appears to have shrunk in the wash and its colours have run. Now, in its place we have “Soundtrack of The 80s” featuring “iconic songs and defining albums.” I’m genuinely surprised that Sara Cox isn’t billed to host it.

Get your magnifying glass out though and look carefully at the small print at the very bottom of the poster and any fears you may have previously had will be swept aside.

See – it IS EXACTLY the same concert as before. O yea of little faith. Look, there’s all of Jackson’s biggest hits… Rock With You… Man In The Mirror… er, Yah Mo Be There…

I appreciate that there are bigger injustices in the world right now, but the principle of this stinks and the precedent it sets is utterly unacceptable.

This is like professional gaslighting. Maybe the organisers of the event are in a state of traumatised denial after this significant transformation to their show.

The last time a promoter was this cheeky was back when people who had bought seats to see Michael Jackson at his O2 residency for his ill-fated This Is It farewell tour were offered hologrammatic “souvenir” tickets instead of their money back.

When people buy tickets for Glastonbury, they do so without knowing what the line up will be in advance. People know that they are getting on board before the bands are announced and if they aren’t satisfied when the poster is unveiled, they are free to cancel.

Line ups are subject to change all the time, but usually, when someone drops out, the promoters arrange for someone equally impressive to stand in. Sometimes, the replacement is actually better than the act originally scheduled, so it works in the fans’ favour.

Occasionally, issues arise where, for whatever reason, artists are unable to fulfil their original obligation due to their personal situation or circumstances beyond their control.

I was crushed one Summer when Irish girl group B*witched were due to headline a Nineties nostalgia concert, but were sadly unable to make it in time due to problems with their flight. To be fair to them, they offered a full explanation and regular updates throughout the course of the evening by virtue of regular Skype updates. These things happen. C’est la vie.

There is sometimes a disclaimer attached to shows warning in advance of possible alterations. It covers the promoter’s back, acknowledges the reality of the industry and manages fans’ expectations.

I have studied the Quincy poster quite closely under my musical microscope and I don’t see anything anywhere that states: “please note: the advertised content is subject to change at any minute – in fact, it might have already changed beyond recognition by the time you buy tickets. Those who wish to take a complete leap of faith do so entirely at their own risk as even if we move the goal posts so far apart that they end up being in completely different countries, we reserve the right at all times to not only refuse entry but also refunds.”

I am no mathematician, but I am genuinely curious as to how much of the original advertised content of a concert you have to depart from before it can be considered a “change.”

Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you bought tickets to see The Manic Street Preachers on their current tour, encouraged by the promise that they are going to be playing your favourite album of theirs: This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours in its entirety. Imagine turning up, feather boa warming your your neck, looking forward to hearing songs from that album, only to be told that instead you are going to be treated to two hours of singer James Dean Bradfield’s side project.

Furious, you rush to the box office for a refund. “Ah,” says the woman behind the counter, “but this is the same concert.” “HOW is it?” you wail. “James will still be playing songs from This Is My Truth,” she says, “alongside era-defining music.”

Faced with no alternative, you return to the show to hear James playing George Benson’s Give Me The Night. “But this isn’t even one of theirs!” you scream, throwing back your head in terror, at which point you see a sign on the ceiling above you that says “NO REFUNDS.”

The addition of extra songs doesn’t make things better, it makes them considerably worse, as it has the effect of diluting the overall quality. It makes it considerably less likely that you will get to hear the songs from those albums that you paid good (Bad?) money to hear.

Maybe before the show, you could go into the O2 branch of Nando’s and order a plate of peri peri chicken, before tucking into it and immediately realising that something is wrong. Rather than your spice of choice, it has an altogether milder, tamer flavour, like someone has seasoned it with lemon and herb. It doesn’t even look or taste like chicken. Closer inspection reveals it to be pigeon!

Incensed, you storm up to the counter and demand your money back. “I’m sorry, Sir,” says the Manager, “but there are no refunds because that is the same meal as the one you ordered.” Then they chuck out a corn on the cob and throw some spicy rice in your face in an effort to placate you with era-defining side dishes.

Where exactly will this madness end? If you go to a tailor and after getting measured up and paying for a brand new suit, he then proceeds to lop the legs off the trousers and stitch a floral pattern into the lapel, can he still expect you to be happy with that?

We live in a time where people are expected to pay for the privilege of printing off their own tickets at home, and don’t even get me started on the fulfilment fees – exactly who or what are these fulfilling other than corporate pockets?!

Fans increasingly find themselves forfeiting booking fees, administration charges and the like when concerts are cancelled by the promoter. These would appear to be regarded by them as little more than curiosity taxes.

It’s all very caveat emptor – buyer beware – if you have gone to the trouble and expense of organising transport and arranging accommodation to see a show which is then pulled, well, then, that’s your problem.

By all means, go ahead and adjust the content of a concert – you’re the promoter, it’s your show, you can do whatever you like, but if you do, don’t hoodwink ticket holders into thinking that nothing has changed. Don’t flummox your customers. If they aren’t happy with the alterations you’ve made, they should be entitled to receive a full refund as the show they bought tickets to see is no longer the one that will be staged.

Believe it or not, this piece originally started out as an advertisement for the forthcoming Quincy Jones concert in which I heaped praise on the promoters for their courageous actions and argued that the concert remains fundamentally unchanged. They cannot take issue with any aspect of the final version because this is exactly the same article as before…alongside era-defining sarcasm. “

-Written by Andrew Timms .

[mind-reader1]

Queen of Hearts (Ch.25)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: some violence, I think there’s some cursing 

Note: Enjoy! We’re getting down to the final chapters, wow

Word Count: 2625

Summary: It’s the morning of Emma and Liam’s wedding and tensions are high. As they ladies try to prepare, the boutique is attacked. Will all the ladies survive? 

Chapter 25: Headstrong - Trapt 

Back off I'll take you on

Headstrong to take on anyone

I know that you are wrong

Headstrong we're Headstrong

Back off I'll take you on

Headstrong to take on anyone

I know that you are wrong

This is not where you belong

I can't give everything away

I won't give everything away 

Liam slowly pushed the door open, causing a sharp creaking sound and wished he hadn’t as Maxwell came up behind him, pushing it all the way open.

“Oh.” Liam tensed up. It never got easier to see the woman he loved with his best friend, there was no denying when anyone looked at them, how much they loved each other.

“Maybe we should come back.” Maxwell tried to pull Liam out, but it was too late, Drake began to stir. He mumbled something and opened his eyes, closing them quickly until his brain processed and they flew open. Drake sat straight up making sure to pull the sheet up over Emma’s chest.

“What the fuck!” Drake hissed.

“I’m sure Emma told you about our fight yesterday, I thought she could use a nice breakfast and spa before the wedding today.” Liam replied coolly. Drake narrowed his eyes at Liam and shook his head, he had been there for the first fight and he heard all about the second.

“Why didn’t you fucking knock then?”

“I did. No one answered. Perhaps if you two stopped fucking and actually got some sleep then you would have heard us.” Emma stirred and started to sit up, Drake pushed the sheet against her and she didn’t realize why until she saw the scowl on his face, Liam and Maxwell behind her.

“Oh. Um.” Liam fumed when he noticed Drake’s ring on her finger, again. On their wedding day no less.

“I guess I’ll see you both at breakfast once you’re decent. Don’t forget to put the right ring on before the wedding today.” Liam stormed out, Maxwell gave them an apologetic look and slipped out behind him. Emma groaned and fell back into bed.

“Why is it always Liam? It just makes everything worse!”

“I don’t know, we should get going though, don’t want to make him even more mad before…” Drake trailed off, choking on the words.

“I know.” Emma kissed Drake and climbed out of bed, collecting her discarded pajamas from the night before, before getting dressed for the day. Drake put his own pajamas on and went back to his room to get dressed then they met everyone in the dining room.

Liam and Maxwell walked to the dining room in silence, Maxwell could tell that Liam just needed a minute. He tried and tried to get the image of Emma and Drake together in bed out of his mind, but he couldn't. Between that and hearing her scream his name all night in Vegas, it was all he could think about. They were in love, everyone got it, they didn't need to go flaunting it in everyone's faces. Especially not his, he had been kind enough to let them be together because they were his friends, at least he had thought they were. The coldness in Drake's eyes, that wasn't the look of a friend. Someone kicked Liam under the table, he looked up to see Emma and Drake had arrived, everyone noticing his distant behavior.

“Sorry nerves.” Despite the small talk made over the food, the room was still tense, Drake practically breaking his plate every time he stabbed a piece of fruit with his fork.

“So, does anyone have marital advice for me?”

“Sure. As the only married person here, I feel like I should be the one to do so.” Olivia spoke up.

“Who said you were the only one.” Drake mumbled under his breath. Emma swiftly kicking him under the table, Maxwell dropping his bagel in shock.

Olivia continued not missing a beat though.

“Don't let your parents marry you to a psychopath.”

“I think she already is.” Drake grumbled again. Emma kicked him again and abruptly stood from the table.

“Who's ready for manicures?” everyone went down to the spa, even Drake, though he did protest.

“Drake! I'm surprised to see you here still!” Kiara sat next to him and smiled.

“I'm just here for the drinks.” Drake ordered a glass of champagne and downed it in one go. Emma was relieved that at least he was keeping his mouth shut. She ordered her own mimosas, downing three before they were even done with her first hand. Liam cleared his throat.

“Perhaps you should slow down. Drake too. At least pretend like you're excited.” Emma meet his gaze and downed another, Liam signaled the staff to cut both of them off. Emma rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn't have to pretend if you and Drake hadn't gone at it this morning. Ease off us okay, this isn't exactly how any of us pictured our weddings going.”

“It's exactly how I pictured mine, you by my side with Drake, only my friends weren't fucking when I envisioned it.” It took all of Emma's willpower not to scream at him. Again, the group could feel the tension, all the harsh whispering around them.

“Well I really should be going! Time to get ready! Thank you everyone for such a great morning!” They all rode back to the palace, everyone leaving except for Hana, Drake, Maxwell and Liam. They had one more surprise for the morning, gifts. Maxwell presented her with a sword for something old, it was finally retiring to Valtoria, its rightful home. Liam presented her with a ruby, shaped like an apple for something new.

“To remind you of your new home and old. I'm sorry for my behavior earlier, I... I was just startled is all.”

“It's beautiful Liam, I don't want to talk about this now though. It's not the time or place.” he nodded and backed away for Drake to give his gift.

“Something borrowed. It's a pocket watch that belonged to my dad, it's something that's really important to me and I wanted you have it up there with you.” Emma smiled and gently took it from him.

“I'll take care of it until I return it to you.” Drake had a sly smile on his face, Emma raised an eyebrow, but he stepped back and let Hana come up.

“And of course, something blue!” She opened a box to reveal a beautiful pair of blue pumps that she was sure Hana designed.

“They're beautiful Hana! Thank you!” Emma pulled her into a hug and Hana squeezed her back.

“They're custom for you so no one will ever have the same pair and especially not on their wedding day!” Emma admired them once more.

“Thank you all so much, seriously. I love these, I'll see you all later.” Emma began to walk away with her gifts, but Drake grabbed her arm, that sly smile back on his face.

“I have one more borrowed thing for you, it's also kind of a wedding present.” Drake pressed something small and metal into her hand. Emma opened it up to see a house key, she looked at Drake confused.

“A key? I don't understand Drake?”

“I bought a cabin, it's only ten minutes from here, it's for us. This is my key, you can borrow it until I get you your own.” Emma looked down at the key and then back up at Drake in disbelief. She had so many questions, she was just so incredibly happy and in awe that he would do something like this for her.

“Drake! I... Oh my God...I!” She leaned in for a sloppy kiss and felt him smile against her lips.

“We'll talk about it later. Go get ready so Madeleine doesn't kill you for being late.” Emma nodded fighting tears, not noticing Liam watching from a distance, seething. He knew Drake was going to do this, he had made a deal with him. They could live at the cabin because it was so close to the palace, it still felt like they were rubbing their happiness in his face though. Although, at least this way he wouldn't have to walk in on them in bed together. Emma got just a few steps away before there was a group text from Madeleine that they were needed in the boutique, Emma got to give the final stamp of approval on everyone's outfits. Madeleine wore her go to green dress, Kiara wore the same gold one she had at Madeleine's bachelorette party, she twirled over to Drake.

“Magnifique non? Drake?”

“Yeah um, it's nice I guess.” Emma had to refrain from rolling her eyes, she still didn't get the hint that he wasn't interested, Emma wanted to scream at her, but instead she smiled. Penelope wore her beautiful purple dress representing her house colors and symbol. Olivia wore her plunging red beaded dress, Liam's eyes lit up when she stepped out of the dressing room.

“Like what you see?” She quipped, and Liam cleared his throat.

“That dress is very nice Olivia, I'm worried about being upstaged by all of you beautiful ladies.”

“No one's gonna be able to take their eyes off Barnes,” Drake said before dropping his voice so only Emma and Liam could hear, “I know I won't be able to.”

“Lady Hana! What are you thinking of?” Liam was desperate to move on with the conversation. Hana chose her handmade dress, and Emma didn't get to put on her wedding dress, she was going to be getting ready at an odd location, a boutique for security even though it made no sense to her. As for the men, Maxwell wore a new grey suit with a purple bowtie, complementing each other well. Drake wore a new blue suit with a pink tie, Emma had to consciously think about keeping her mouth closed so she didn't drool. He walked out, and she noticed his tie was crooked.

“Well?” He put his arms out. Kiara noticed too and took a step towards him, but Emma wasn't going to have it, she was practically on top of Drake to keep Kiara away.

“Now it's perfect.” She straightened his tie and jacket, her hands lingering just a second too long as they smiled at each other. The tension in the room was tangible, Kiara once again beginning to wonder if there was more there than met the eye.

“Heh. Thanks Barnes.” Liam stepped out a moment later in what could only be described as a literal prince charming suit, Emma had to admit that it suited him.

“Very dashing Liam, maybe all the attention won't be on me after all.”

“There's one more surprise!” Penelope chimed in and whistled. Cooper came waddling in, a tailored doggie suit on. It was perfect! Penelope's wedding gift, Emma leaned down to scratch behind his ears and Cooper wiggled his butt in appreciation. Madeleine rushed everyone out of the boutique, it was almost time to be leaving. Drake hung back.

“Get there safely okay? I want to see you walking down that aisle in a beautiful wedding dress, that way I can pretend you're walking to me.”

“I'll be looking right at you Drake, I just wish I had my dress yesterday, but then again I don't. It was perfect without it because it was all us. Get out of here before we get in trouble.” Drake pulled her in for one last tight embrace and slipped through the doors.

 A carriage was outside a few moments later to take Emma to the boutique where she would finally get to see her wedding dress. Just as Ana reached for the dress, the whole building shook accompanied by a loud boom. They were under attack, again. Mara rushed out and the others barricaded the door as gunfire echoed through the halls. Everyone was nervous, but grabbed the nearest thing they could use as a weapon, Olivia revealing daggers she had hidden in her dress, Emma digging through her luggage until she found the sword Maxwell had given her earlier, she had never been more grateful for Maxwell's outlandish tendencies. The gunfire outside stopped, no sound of heavy footsteps, it was eerily quiet before all hell broke loose. Emma charged the door as assassins barged in sending the small couch in front of it flying. That didn't stop her as she slashed at the assassins, but they overwhelmed her, flooding in. Madeleine successfully knocked one out with a clipboard, Hana throwing a vase she found knocking out another, still they seemed to be everywhere.

Penelope cowered as Merlin and Morgana attacked the one threatening her. Kiara jumped in to protect her friend, attacking him with scissors and a mannequin as the dogs continued to bite. Emma whirled around to find yet another loaded gun pointed at her, she wasn't scared this time though, she was pissed. Remembering her training, she swept his legs out from underneath of him, knocking him out with the butt of her sword. Olivia was behind her, an assassin successfully tackling her to the ground. Olivia threw a dagger into his leg and he howled in pain.

“You'll have to do better than that!” She jumped up and finished him off, Emma smirked impressed.

“DIE!”

“I can do better.” Emma spun and slashed an assassin rushing towards them. Olivia raised an eyebrow and nodded impressed.

“Enough!” Another came charging, but Bertrand stepped in.

“YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU EVOKED THE WRATH OF HOUSE BEAUMONT!” he clocked him across the jaw, sending the man sprawling. Olivia frowned.

“I was threatening that one!” She sounded like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted, Emma chuckled despite the danger.

“You won't win!” Emma had enough of all of it.

“I will see my husband again even if I have to climb over a mountain of your corpses!” She snarled charging the assassin sword drawn. He stammered and stumbled back, terrified by the look in Emma's eyes.

“The only corpse here will be you!” He seemed unsure of his words as he dove for his gun, Emma delivering a harsh kick to his groin. He fell to his knees in pain before gasping and falling over, Olivia grinning as a small dagger protruded from his back. They were all breathing heavy as they looked around, they had defeated the assassins. Everyone had heard Emma's comment about seeing her husband again, but they brushed it off, thinking she was referring to Liam. She really was determined to see Drake again and put an end to all of this, she was tired of being afraid all the time and ready to do something about it. Bastien came rushing in, impressed by the number of assassin's on the ground and the women unscathed, but breathing heavy, not a hair out of place. Mara came stumbling into the door injured, Bastien rushed to help her. The rest of Anton's forces had been captured, but they believed he was fleeing to the border.

“The palace and cathedral are secured. Let's get you to your wedding.” Emma's friends began fumbling around to reorganize things and help Emma get dressed, Bastien leaned in.

“Drake was worried. I'll let him know you're safe and kicked ass your grace. He'll be relieved.” Emma smiled at Bastien silently thanking him. Madeleine brought the dress over and as Emma slipped it on, she was in awe of how stunning it was. The top had a plunging corset covered in elaborate lace, long sleeves a mix of chiffon and lace. There was a waistband with fancy beading, sparkling under the lights before opening up into a large princess style skirt, a small pattern on the hem of it. As a final touch, Ana placed a matching tiara on her head.

“It's beautiful!” Kiara marveled.

“Yes, but we need to be going!” Madeleine rushed over towards the door.

“I know. Let's get out of here.” Everyone went to their respective carriages, Hana helping Emma into hers before climbing in with Bertrand.

Next Time: Will Emma go through with the wedding? 

Tag List:  @notoriouscs @brightpinkpeppercorn @ooo-barff-ooo@leelee10898@princesstopgun@choicesyouplayandmore@sleepwalkingelite@roonarific   @indigo39@skyila@speedyoperarascalparty @andy-loves-corgis@furiousherringoperatortoad@drakewalkerfics@findingdrake@sue9659@smritysriv@larryssunflower@likethetailofacomet@zaffrenotes@mrsdrakewalkerblog @agent-bossypants @endlessly-searching-for-you   @cgd03 @simsvetements @jovialyouthmusic

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scars Ch. 11 - Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Based on the Soulmate Prompt where whatever you write on your skin, it appears on your Soulmate’s.

A/N: I’m sorry. ): Jk not really tho. Suffer like I did while writing this lmao.

[Masterlist]

Summary: Everything was doomed to end like this from the very beginning.

Warnings: Angst. Cussing. Violence. Strangulation.

Words: 4759

Chapter 11: Separated

Over the following weeks, Bucky found himself to be more and more himself again.

His old self however could never come back 100%, but you assured him you’re fine with it. He’s been through so much and it was okay for him to have anxiety or feel let down sometimes. And still: With you, he felt like he’s finallly gaining ground under his feet again, after decades of falling.

Everything felt so normal, it made so perfectly much sense. Both of you couldn’t even remember how you dealt with life before you got united with your other half.

Today was one of those days where Bucky needed some space. To be alone with his thoughts for a while.

You didn’t mind. Just as you told him - you never did. And he believed you, so he could go without feeling bad about it.

This morning, Bucky went to do a little bit sport in the woods, where no one could see him. Just to be sure, he covered his face as best as he could with a little disguise you bought. So you were home alone at the time, until he’d come back.

“I should call Steve” he thought as he kicked some trees to let off some steam. “Haven’t heared of him in a while.”

The call was short, as always. Steve had a feeling that S.H.I.E.L.D or the UN were up to something. He was at least sure they knew about a traitor being among their ranks. And right now, no one would believe Captain America anyway. His reputation had suffered some damage after the latest incidents involving himself and the Winter Soldier, after all.

On his way home, several hours later, Bucky thought about what he could do for your birthday. It was nice to think about such simple things. And to him, the day of your birth was something great. He secretly thanked you for simply existing every single day he was allowed to spend with you.

Bucky absendmindedly picked up some pretty flowers from the lonely sidewalk in the middle of the woods, thinking you’d like them. After his little training session, he wished to finally hold you in his arms again.

That’s why you were so understanding. You knew he’d always come back to you. No matter what.

And you’d wait for him - even if it takes forever.

Little did he know that your peaceful days would soon find their abrupt ending.

The time he spend with you made him forget about the threat that was still outside in this world - coming from several directions.

When Bucky arrived at your house, he realized that the door stood wide open - seemingly kicked in. Entering the living room, he found many furniture pieces to be destroyed. His gear wasn’t there anymore as well, so he was left almost defenseless.

Bucky’s heart fell into his chest that very second, and without waisting much more time, he took the pistol you once inherited from your parents from it’s secret storage. Steely eyes darted around the house, clearing every room - yet he didn’t find anyone at first.

It was all silent. They were experts. No trace left from the outside of the house.

Who was it? HYDRA? S.H.I.E.L.D? When he opened the door to your bedroom, he knew the truth - it was the goverment. Professionals, send by the UN. Not impossible that those people were mercenaries, he thougtht after taking a second look.

Luckily, they didn’t have the order to shoot at sight. But their methods were questionable nonetheless.

He didn’t care about all the guns pointed at him - but the sight of their leader pointing a knife towards your throat made him gulp so hard he thought everyone could hear.

“Drop the weapon, or she’s dead meat” the man snarled, without the slightest hesitation in his voice. The cold metal hit your skin and made a single drop of blood run down your delicate skin. How could they dare to defile such a wonderful being...

So Steve was right. They did listen to the phonecall. Somehow they managed to backtrack it this time.

And they were quick to find out that Bucky wasn’t all that psychotic - he cared for someone. For you.

And that would prove to be his greatest weakness.

“Please, just run Bucky...” you muffled, the gloved hand of the man covering your mouth. Fear was written on your face. But it wasn’t fear for your own life - you just wanted to know him to be safe. “I know you can get away if you want.”

Seeing your tear-stained face plagued Bucky more than he could ever seem possible. It made his abdomen ache and his entire body shaking violently. Face pale and eyes standing out.

All of his previous, repressed fighting instincts kicked in once again. Senses sharpened, mind fogged by rage and sorrow.

The image of losing you to his past right in his head.

This war was far from over. Yet he still let his guard down. And this was his first mistake.

If looks could kill, they all would drop dead at his glare. He wanted you to never cry because of him again - but here you are, experiencing horrible things again. And it’s all his fault.

“Enough!” Bucky screamed in rage, with a voice so grim, not even the Winter Soldier sounded that evil. Seeing him like this made even your own blood run cold.

Right now, he was so furious  that he wanted to tear anyone apart who’d dare to hurt you.

But instead, he put the gun down to the floor, kicking it out of his range, before kneeling down with his hands held high. He couldn’t risk them to do so much as to lie a finger on you.

“I surrender. Please, let her go.”

“As if we’d let a crazy woman who hid a wanted criminal run freely” the man shrugged, kicking your leg to make you hit the floor, too. They put handcuffs on both of you, and you sobbed so hard it was too hard to understand a single word they said. The soldiers pressed your face to the ground so harshly, it scraped the skin on your cheek it wide open.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky!” you sobbed, feeling as if you had failed him.

You were too careless. When you heared something, you thought it was simply Bucky coming back home. The thought of enemies coming didn’t even cross your mind. You should’ve warned him, so he’d never come back home in the first place.

No. It was his fault and his fault alone. He shouldn’t have made that unnecessary call. He should’ve stuck to the plan and wait for Steve to get a new cellphone. He should’ve just waited for his friend to contact him instead of doing things on his own.

Looking back, he should’ve done so many things differently than he did. Beginning with not starting a relationship with you in the first place.

He knew it would have to end like this. Bucky Barnes was a man doomed to get all of his happiness stolen from him - unable to do anything against it.

One of the men balled a fist in your hair and pulled your upper half upright again. You were but mere meters away, kneeling on the floor - yet still so far away from each other.

“Hush, babydoll” he breathed with a voice so gentle and caring that even the soldiers around you got silent all of sudden. Bucky knew you were having a panic attack at this very moment. It reminded you of your childhood too bad. “Look at me, Y/N. It’s alright. They won’t hurt you.”

This whole situation was so exhausting that you just went unconscious again.  As if your mind flipped a switch to protect itself. But his last words got burned into your mind - together with that fair, devoted eyes of his.

“I’ll protect you. Just rely on me. I love you more than anything - and I’ll get you out of there.”

Next thing you knew, you were lying on the back seat of what appeared to be a police van.

Who knows just how long you’ve been asleep. But it looked like you were in Germany, judging by the big word ‘POLIZEI’ written on the uniform of the officers guarding you. They didn’t seem like ordinary policemen, though - rather like special forces. This was just how afraid they were of the Winter Soldier’s power.

It still felt so unreal. The man that’s constantly crying in your arms being so dangerous, whole countries would do everything to make him disappear.

Remembering some important buildings of the country, you guessed you were in their capital. And their government was part of the UN.

“This isn’t going to end good, isn’t it?”

You thought it best to not ask any questions. The officers never even once lowered their rifles, instead holding it into your face this whole time. Not really intimidating, though, but you knew they wouldn’t give you an answer anyway.

The only thing that mattered to you right now was Bucky. Where was he? What are they going to do with him from now on? Will you ever meet him again?

Your head was spinning - but you needed to be strong. For him.

Just as he was for you.

He’ll save you. And you’ll save him, if necessary.

When you got dragged out of the car, one of the men would grab your upper arm painfully, causing you to winch a little.

Turning around to look at that place, you saw Bucky, directing a deadly glare at the soldiers touching you so roughly. He was alive, at least. But he was so heavily restrained you could cry at the sight alone.

Like a wild beast in a cage. And everyone would look at him with so much hatred, you wanted to punch them until they’re enlighted about their wrong judgement.

Through the thick, bulletproof glass, it was impossible to hear what he said. But you tried to read his lips as good as you could:

“I’m so sorry.”

You tried to answer him, stretching every syllable on your lips to form silent words.

“And I still love you.”

Bucky looked woefully down, before he could see you smiling at him. He was ashamed of himself. Because he couldn’t protect you.

Then, they took him away. Just like that. Your Soulmate was gone.

Where to, you wondered. A cage in a basement and then throw away the key? Something like that, probably.

A man made his way towards you, followed by some more guards. He introduced himself as Everett Kenneth Ross, apparently from the CIA, and also Deputy Task Force Commander. Huh, is there any agency on this damn planet that doesn’t want to see your Soulmate dead?

Yet he seemed trustworthy, to a certain extend. And then again, you thought you couldn’t trust anyone here. Steve told you that even S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated by HYDRA, up to their highest ranks. Those people were trained to play cheap games with your mind. They knew all the tricks.

“What’s happening to him now?” you choked on a whimper, trying to hold back your tears. They must not see how weak you are.

“The same I wish we could do to all of you: Psychological evaluation and extradition.”

You didn’t answer. There was no reason to comment on this.

“Y/N!” Finally, a familiar voice.

Seeing Steve run over to you was one of the biggest reliefs you could be experience right now - meeting Bucky would be top notch. He instantly ran over to you, ignoring all the soldiers telling him to stop. When he embraced you into a deep hug, you couldn’t surpress your tears any longer.

“Steve, they got Bucky. It’s all my fault. It’s-”

“No, Y/N” Steve whispered with great care, “You helped him so much. I can’t express my gratitude for that, Y/N. I’m glad to call you my friend.”

“There’ll be consequences for you too, Mr. Rogers” Everett Ross interrupted you. “Holding back information - especially in a case this severe. This’ll be a long sentence.”

They led Steve back into the office he was attended to, now being under constant supervision. “Well meet again later, Y/N. It’ll be fine.”

You believed him. At least you wanted to.

“We all will get out of this.”

Your eyes were blurry, and your whole being looked so damn tired. Tired of everything.

Commander Ross led you into a small interrogation room, even offering you some water. But you didn’t say anything.

“You’re probably exhausted” he observed, mimicking a caring expression as he leaned over the small table that was separating the two of you.

“Where’s Bucky?” you whined, waiting for an answer that would never come.

The commander sighed deeply, frowning in frustration as he looked to the few datas they had about you. “Y/N Y/L/N, right? I want to understand why you did this. Maybe we can get you out of this. There are no records of any crimes, and you seemed to have lived a pretty normal life up until now. So why?”

Yes, you did. But that life was just an empty facade, covering your own past and all the dephts of your mind that had been caused by it.

“Please. I just want to know where he is...” Everything was just too much for you. In opposite to Steve, Bucky and the others, you weren’t used to those kind of situations. How even? You were weak - a mere, normal human without any special abilities. All of this frightened and overchallenged you. You just wanted to see him again.

“We kept him secure in the deepest part of this building, under heavy surveillance.”

 “He’s done nothing wrong!” You gave him a sinister look, causing him to rise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you really that gullible? That man is still the same one that killed your parents twenty years ago.”

How the hell did they know? Well, consiering the identity of your lover, they probably did their research on you very well to understand your connection.

“Y/N” his eyes were much more soft and compassionate now. “Did he force you? Threaten you into helping him? It’s okay now, I want you to know that. We locked him away. He can’t hurt you anymore. Do you understand that?”

Commander Ross placed a hand on your still cuffed one, and you instantly pulled it away. “Fuck you!” you hissed. “You don’t know shit! He’s my Soulmate, goddamn it! Are you pleased now? Leave me alone!”

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once - you saw it in his eyes. Then, he jumped up, the way his facial features having become more hard again.

His reaction told you this was the wrong choice of an answer. Not that you didn’t know this before. But that outburst of emotion was much needed right now.

“Okay, so...Either he’s done horrible things to make you follow him - or you were a psychopath too, from the very beginning.”

“Don’t presume to know anything about him! Steve gave you all the details, didn’t he?! He was forced to do this! They mangled his mind over and over again. Can you even imagine how painful this was for him?! So shut your foul mouth! I don’t care who you are, just stop talking about him like that!”

“The data Captain America has brought to us needs to be confirmed as real. Until then, it’s probably just a fake. Both of you are desperately trying to save that man. Your emotions make an objective view on things impossible. The man Bucky Barnes is long gone. He died on the train seventy years ago. But the Winter Soldier is still out there, in this world - and we can’t let him run free anymore. He’s a threat. You may cooperate, and I might even set you free under certain circumstances: One being that we’ll never lose track of you and your activities. But we can talk about this later.”

Tears dropped down your face and on the back of your hands, who were clenched and resting in your lap. “Mr. Ross, I beg of you...just five minutes! I’ll do anything you ask of me. Even tell you anything I know - but I need to see him right now!”

Maybe it was sympathy with a girl that’s been destroyed by things she had no control over in the first place. Or it was his hope of gaining some information while listening to your talk. But he did agree to your conditions.

“Alright. But we’ll be monitoring you this whole time.”

The basement was cold and scary. Ugly. Draining on your hope.

“There it is” the soldier who accompanied you said emotionless, pushing open a heavy metal door with the words ‘Highest Security Level’ written on it. You rushed inside to find Bucky still being imprisoned by that iron cage.

“Bucky!!!” you cried out as soon as you saw him, running towards the man and hammering onto the glass.

“Y/N...” a defeated voice answered you, his eyes being empty and almost absent from any positive emotion. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting you, obviously” you mumbled with a voice so pure, so innocent it shattered his already aching heart.

“Y/N, you need to forget about me. It’s impossible to get out of there. But you can still do it! You can have a normal life!” His voice cracked at the thought of losing you - but to him, it was the only way.

“I told you I’d wait for you, no matter how long it takes!” you said silently, but with great sincerity. Turning around to look at the guard, who sat on a chair in the corner of the room, you asked “Please, can you open the cage? He’s restricted anyway, right? There’s no way he can escape.”

The man looked a little confused, and wanted to make fun of your demand - until Commander Ross’ voice halled from the loudspeakers. “It’s okay. Do it.” For some reason, he found this oddly entertaining.

Ross had heared stories about the Winter Soldier ever since his youth, and he thought it to be mere fairytales until a few weeks ago. But he’s nothing like everyone described him. The words were still on the tip of his tongue until this day: Brutal, remorseless and merciless, with an utter lack of conscience.

This man, however - the one he could see on the monitors - seemed like he’d have a mental breakdown at any given second. He looked so strained and deeply agonized that Everett could clearly feel his emotions - even though he wasn’t even in the same room as him.

Right now, the Commander saw the broken man Bucky actually was. And it was hard to stay strict at this scenery.

When the door of the glass cage opened, you jumped inside in less than a second. You then instantly started to wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and stroke his hair with your hands, like you’d always do to soothe him. How badly did he want to hug you back right now - but his arms were nailed to the chair he was sitting on.

You leaned your forehead on his, your noses touching each other hesistantly, until you couldn’t take the tension any longer and gently placed your lips onto his.

Many, small and loving kisses followed. To remind him you’re here.

You won’t go away.

Everything will be fine, just as you promised each other.

And like that, his stony expression dropped.

“They’ll send a very important psychologist to evaluate your mental health, okay?” you whispered hopefully, chin resting on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Bucky. Please don’t try to resist. Soon, everybody will know you’re innocent. We’re all on your side!”

This time, you’d place his face in between your palms and give him one last, passionate kiss before they informed you that the time was up. Turning around, with the soldier poking his gun’s riffle at your back to keep you going, you could still clearly hear his desperate sobs.

“I’ll miss you, my hero.”

“So you’re Y/N, huh? I’m Sam Wilson, but you can just call me Sam. Steve told us lots about you. He won’t shut up about it, to be precize.”

“...Sorry...” You sat in their ‘office’, which was just a fancy word for them being imprisoned in the common sense. They weren’t allowed to go outside and were monitored and guarded 24/7. But at least you weren’t handcuffed any more.

Sam used the height difference to rest an arm on your head, making Steve raise an eyebrow at him. “Now don’t be so gloomy. We’ve got everything in control, okay? Promise.”

You felt Steve placing a comforting hand on your shoulder as well. “He’s right, Y/N. We just need to wait.”

“I’m glad you’re okay” you answered Steve, still quite dejectedly. “It’s nice to meet you, Sam. You too, Sharon. Actually, Steve told me quite a thing or two about you” you winked at her with a light smile, trying to banish the tension that filled the room.

“The pleasure is all mine, Y/N” Sharon said as she shook your hand. Her look was so sympathetic, it made you cringe. “Too bad it has to be at these, well...unfortunate cicumstances.”

They were nice and all, and made you feel at ease just a little more. But still - there was a feeling at the pitch of your stomach. Something that didn’t allow you any rest. And it only amplified your need to get him out of there as fast as possible.

“Why would the Task Force release his picture to the public anyway?” Steve didn’t want to alarm you, but he found something about this strategy to be very off.

“To mobilize as many eyes as we can?”  Sharon stated the obvious. “You said someone framed him to find him” 

While you were silently listening and observing, Sam sat at the table and played with a pen between his fingers. “We searched for that guy for two years and found nothing.”

“Well” Steve added, “We didn’t bomb the UN.”

“But it still doesn’t guarantee that whoever wants him would find him. It would only make sure that we would.”

All of you stared at each other in realization: The person looking for Bucky. It was here, somewhere. They have already been infiltrated.

Something isn’t right. You felt it clearly as you saw the assumed psychologist sitting down on a table in front of your lover’s cage. This time, there were no guards around. He was allowed to be left alone with him. And all of you watched the screen in tensed anticipation.

“Tell me, Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, havent you?” You turned your head to look at the screen once again. That man had an unusual accent. That’s certainly not German. But the doctor they wanted to send was supposed to be German, wasn’t he?

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Yes, that answer fits your Soulmate.

The man continued. “You feel that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Is that assumption correct?”

Steve saw you tensing up. Jaw clenched so hard that he heared your teeth cracking, and fists balled so hard it began to hurt your fingers.

You began to panic.

That man wasn’t good. Something felt wrong about him in the first place.

“Don’t worry” he said. You had to pinch your nose with an annoyed groan at the man’s arrogance. “We’ll only have to talk about one.”

“What is he talking about? Which one?” Your thoughts didn’t even have time to be expressed out loud, before all the screens went black.

“No.

Nononononono NO! Fuck!”

“An electricity cut? Here?!” Sam jumped up from his chair, and Sharon expressed your greatest fear: “The source...Sublevel Five. East Wing.”

“Bucky...”

Obviously, Steve and Sam were much more faster than you. They told you to stay away, because it’s ‘too dangerous’.

But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Bucky is not dangerous. It’s Bucky, after all! Right?!

You run after them, as fast as your legs could take you. Past many soldiers who seemed to have been knocked out by someone. Are they dead? You shouldn’t think about that right now.

There he lied - the man who did god knows what to your Soulmate. On the cold floor, acting like a victim.

“Help me” he shrieked, only strenghtening your rage a thousandfold. But Steve got him first, pinning him against the next wall.

“Who are you? What do you want?!”

His answer, even though short and unspecific, send shivers down your spine.

“To see an empire fall.”

Sam already went to the room where Bucky was supposed to be held in check - but the sound of punches and kicks made your only amplified your sorrows.

“Y/N, go get Tony and the others” Steve placed his hands on your shoulders and stared deeply into your eyes, shaking you awake from your thoughts. “We’ll protect Bucky. You’ve got my word! Okay?!”

You nodded understandingly, trying to surpress your emotions for the time being. You knew it was for the best - but it was really difficult to accomplish. More than you could’ve imagined.

Suddenly, you saw Bucky coming out of the other room - his metal arm lifting Sam like it was nothing. You felt the need to fall on your knees, but your shaking body stood stock still as his deadly glare lied directly on you. Eyes like you’ve only seen once before.

This isn’t Bucky.

It’s the Winter Soldier.

This is the monster you’re afraid of, and he looked exactly like the man that you’re so madly in love with. And it hurt so much.

Why? Why does this need to happen?

Somehow, he seemed to remember you - yet not in a positive way.

He threw Sam in a corner and made his way towards you with firm steps, until Steve tackled him down and tried to buy you some time.

“Y/N, run!” his words broke you from your panic attack as he struggled to keep the Winter Soldier in place.

Your vision was blurrred from tears, silently streaming down your face. When the sobs stopped wracking through your body, you tried to brace yourself for one last, desperate attempt to get through to him.

“B-Bucky?” you asked, defeat lacing in your voice.

“You” was his sole answer, and he sounded deep and rumbling while saying so. His expression unreadable, but absent of the man you knew.

“Bucky, I won’t leave you alone. I promised. So please stop doing this!” you now yelled, watching his features drop for a second. “I’m not afraid of you!”

After a second, the Winter Soldier had collected himself again. And even though Steve tried to keep him from getting close to you, he got punched into an elevator well, not being able to come out just yet. Meanwhile, Sam was buried under some rubble.

He shot an angry face towards you as you let out an surprised gasp, until your last, heartbreaking scream filled the room.

Was this how you’d die? At the hands of the person you loved most in the world?

How ironic. Everything about your relationship was.

The Winter Soldier wasn’t able to have many coherent thoughts of himself. But one thing he was sure to connect in his mind: You were the girl he was supposed to kill twenty years ago. He failed his mission. And failing his mission meant that HYDRA would bring him pain even more unbearable than the one of being ‘erased’.

Bucky packed your throat firmly with his human hand, having you gasp for air and wailing in agony.

“You’re my target” he grumbled while looking anywhere but your eyes.

The sensation of all air being absent in your lungs made you struggle, kicking with your legs and trying to get his hand away from your trachea. You grabbed your throat where his fingers dug into your neck, as you unsuccessfully tried to keep your breath.

“No” you gasped, feeling how you slowly began to faint. “I’m your girlfriend!”

You placed one hand on his heart, half smiling as you got out your last words - before everything around you went black.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Bucky.”

[Part 12]

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[profanehero]

King’s Water

Ever since the fall of the American-Japanese Embassy; Katherine Parler had one question on her mind; and one question only.

How do you kill gold?

Do you break it down and break it apart? No... No gold could be reformed and melted. It would always come back together.

No.

You had to drown it.

A bullet-proof jacket, state of the art that would do more than just protect her from bullets. It would protect her from shock, from fall, from debris, and obviously from cold and from the son... It weight a good ninety pounds alone.

Forty-one kilos. She was never one for translating to the metric system.

She packed light, as she suspected would be needed of her if she wanted to draw out her intended target. Wearing a skin-tight combative top, skid-resistant leggings and opera-length compression gloves... She knew how helpless, and bare she looked under her coat... She knew that danger and finesse was the last thing that came to mind when people saw her.

Katherine Parler-  Banshee... Looked soft, unprepared... Defenseless.

And that was entirely what she was supposed to look like as she walked through the various alleyways of Toyko. She had been living in Japan by herself for nearly six months now...

The intent had been to stay in Japan as long as she could to adopt Hiroki, and try to live that normal life she had always wanted... The normal life free from pressures to use her quirk, free from someone else’s want to see her powers put to their fullest...

But Alloy followed her back.

So it was with great trepidation, and great maternal instinct; that one night when Hiroki was safely in the infant ward of a hospital in Mustafu that she donned her costume and took to the streets without her weaponry. She even left them purposefully in her equipment safe in her apartment... Everything that Banshee has officially registered to use with Japan’s government could be checked off at her house.

If her skulking around didn’t draw the attention of her stalkers... The note on the fridge written in English would.

Sumida Aquarium: 8:30 pm Penguins

Sure enough that’s where she went. She walked right up into the line, costume and all, bought a ticket and slowly made her way to the penguin exhibit... Where she waited, speaking to the occasional Aquarium employee.

Katherine had reservations about using the common Japanese people’s inability to say ‘no’ against them, but she needed to stay with someone official until she was asked... Politely... To leave at nine o’clock sharp- when the Aquarium closed.

She didn’t make any move to stay past then, and started moving to the exit... Watching the lights of the guest walk-ways as they clicked off one by one.

And then she saw a figure in a heavy suit, heavier than she had ever seen him wear before- he must have been cold in Japan. It was now solidly winter...

Alloy didn’t have the same smiling, controlling face that she had half-expected he’d don. Instead his expression was that of thinly veiled irritation hidden behind confusion.

His eyebrow raised in a silent question... Which he then proceeded to cut through by actually using his voice. “Yo...” he looked around. “... Now, if you had wanted a date; you have my number. You could have JUST texted me.”

A few seconds later Katherine had side-stepped into an employee’s only section and took off running.

“Okay. Fine. Not a date. I can take a hint.”

Soon she could hear the tell-tale signs of his pursuit into a hallway. The back employee walk-ways were lined with grates. Grates that likely couldn’t deal with the pressure of three metric tons on the surface area of a foot.

She turned around just in time to watch Alloy stagger over his own shoes as he ditched them to pursue her... Which he had gotten much better at since she had made the mistake of recommending Land of the Lustrous to him. Soon his feet were a molten trail of gold and he was basically figure-skating down the smooth concrete walkway- but it wasn’t long before she could turn the corner into a much larger expanse. A large aquarium warehouse...

Frankly, aside from a few obvious distinguishing sets of equipment it looked like any other warehouse. Wooden crates of roughly similar sizes were stacked up atop pylons and scaffolding. Large unassembled sheets of thick glass were stacked by each other against one of the walls- but the majority of the center space inside the warehouse was, in fact, taken up by unused tanks, tables, and oddly shaped crates, coolers, boxes- anything else that didn’t have an immediate place to go.

He was coming- he was coming... Under the desk.

Performing a quick tuck-and-roll underneath a desk and behind one of the boxes crammed in there.

Soon the sloshing sound of Alloy entering became apparent. After moving around to make sure there was no other way of escape the villain slowly resumed walking- his feet turning to flesh once more as he paced around.

“... I know you’re in here, Kit-Kat...” he paused, coming to a stop as he examined the walls with various pipes and valves. He let out a despondent snort. “... Katherine. I don’t like playing hide and seek.... Do I have to start breaking things?”

No response. Banshee noticed her hand was clasped over her own mouth.

A loud clatter, and the sound of a crate being thrown across the room.

“I guess so.”

In no time at all Alloy made quick work of many of the boxes of tools, and equipment on one side of the room- he didn’t even have to transform his entire side in order to lift it all- he just used the entirety of his hand like a god damned battering ram and tossed the things around like pillows- stomping down on crates like they were toothpicks.

But Katherine kept an eye on him, a close eye and made sure he had turned just far enough to dart back to the other side of the room... And of course her running meant she was heard- but this time that was the point. She was already halfway to the metal ladder up the side of one scaffold, dodging a well-placed pressure-gauge and wasting no time to breathe as she recklessly scaled up the ladder.

She saw his hand pull the ladder from the scaffolding- which was built-in mere seconds before she rolled over to the top and began searching- frantically for a spot on the hanging beams on the ceiling to get a good purchase... Finally she gets a break-- a hanging lamp a few sturdy scaffolds away.

With no time to loose and the scaffold behind her beginning to collapse like a card house- she ran forward and jumped, grabbing onto the hanging lamp and turning her head and opening her mouth to brandish the one weapon she always had with her- her quirk.

“TARNISH AND DIE-” but the threat fell through deaf ears as the box thrown at her was torn through a hateful red slash of threats- but bellow her Alloy seemed to look on in horror.

There came a creaking noise- and for the first time since she had jumped- she took a second to look at the lamp-- it was starting to give. Below her was a large, half-filled aquarium filled with fake reefs and water.

In a singular cartoony moment Katherine looked up at the light again, then looked at Alloy who actually looked worried just long enough for the sound of metal snapping to echo through the air as Katherine and the light fell into the slowly filling aquarium.

“SHIT! KATHERINE!”

Alloy rarely ran- but he ran this time- human sized feet-cracks in the pavement behind him as he merely hit the glass with a fragment of his strength- washing he and the entire warehouse in a gush of saltwater.... And broken glass...

Okay. He should have thought that last part through for a split second he couldn’t see anything in his eyes.

And  great, something got stuck around his neck-

Wait.

After a moment of sudden realization Alloy’s stinging eyes opened just as the shock collar Katherine’s new costume tightened itself around her neck and activated, sending him tumbling to the ground as his entire body seized.

He was covered in salt water... And in the middle of an aquarium. In actual clothing- so even if he could take the time and shake water off his body- it’d still cling to the clothing fabric.

She was never in trouble...

This was her plan.

A moment of sputtering on the ground and he was staring up, trying so desperately to morph into a more advantageous form- but to no avail, the shock collar activated again.

Maybe... Maybe if he just... Didn’t fight for a moment... he could lure her into a sense of complacency.

“How are you-- not..?”

“Coat... It’s made from an entirely conductive metal thread on the exterior... But my suit’s interior, and my Jacket’s interior; completely shock-resistant... Courtesy of Doctor Patrick Rawlings.”

For a moment he saw red. “I’m REALLY getting sick about hearing that man’s god-damned... name...” Alloy said as he began to push himself to his feet. He held out his hand and watched as his skin... Turned liquid and the pain returned... But it wasn’t from the shock-collar, in fact, Banshee took it off of him.

He could... Try and change form, but only seconds after the change started he felt his chest tighten and his breathing seize-... Like a heart-attack.

“... What did you do?”

“... I gave your heart a jump-start... Your ability to change forms relies completely on your ability to breathe less via your skin... Well. Really hard to do that if you have arrhythmia.” Banshee bent down to him. “You won’t ever be able to use your quirk without hurting yourself ever again.”

Moments later the sound of police-sirens from outside could be heard.

“Hail to the queen, Alloy.”