#and even that's constantly tainted by the sound. god all the fucking sound. from other apartments.

[straydogged]

oh. hahah. my compulsive cleaning hasn't simply been an attempt to get back on top of housework, it's been a desperate attempt to feel some kind of control in my life again

[distantdarlings]

UNDOING // m. riddle

RATING: R / 1.1K WORDS (blurb)

Mattheo Riddle x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* The Room of Requirement grants you and Mattheo a helping hand.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, degradation, slight praise, language, Mattheo's a little mean, ripping clothes, dom!Mattheo (+ blurb that ended up a bit longer than expected)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Heartbeat - Childish Gambino

---

It turned out that the Room of Requirement was really there when you needed it. Because when the two of you had come stumbling down the hall, fingers wrapped against each other’s, it had appeared before the two of you. Once inside, his fingers tangled within yours, slamming your hands up and over your head and against the door. Your breath jolted out at the sensation. Before you could comprehend the first movement, his lips were on your neck, laying bruising, biting kisses to the flesh there. 

“Is that all you got, Riddle?” you spat his name. It was always like this between the two of you—constantly bickering. You’d make a snarky comment, and he’d bite back roughly. His hands would abuse every inch of your skin, breaking bones and tugging muscle, anything to claim you as his own. He’d do anything he had to to make sure everyone knew you belonged to him, even if it meant hurting you. And you didn’t care. You wanted every bit of that. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear, laying a harsh bite to the lobe. You yelped at the sensation, pushing a swift smack into his chest. Of course, it was useless, as he didn’t move an inch. A dark chuckle spilled like wine from his lips, trailing down the course of your neck and pooling down the midline of your chest. Or was that his fingers? You glanced down to try and figure out the answer when he crashed his lips to yours, tainting the soft flesh there. 

His hands were fast and mean, yanking your uniform shirt roughly, the buttons clattering around the two of you like hail. The fingers of one hand worked your bottoms out of their button while the other gripped your hair roughly, pinning your head against the door. Without the security of its fastener, your bottoms fell loosely around your ankles. Refusing to pull your lips away from his, you wiggled your feet out of the bottoms whilst keeping your hands still fastened around his body. 

In a movement as fluid as water, his hands tightened around the underside of your thighs, hiking you up against the wall. He moved in against your bare core, allowing your legs to rest comfortably around his taut hips. The rough material of his trousers pressed agonizingly against your core, sending shocks of pleasure up through your synapses. Mattheo’s breath was fast and panting into your mouth. You pull away.

“Mm, sounds like you’re gonna pass out, baby. You sure you can handle me?” you tease. You knew you were in for it as soon as the words left your mouth, but there was something about riling him up that made your sexual ventures so much more exciting. Anticipation pooled between your thighs as his eyes visibly darkened. 

He pulled you away from the door and laid you out on the long, dark table that stood in the exact center of the shifting room. His hands went straight to his belt and zipper, not even bothering with the rest of his clothes. The clink of his belt sent a bolt of lust straight to your brain as he ripped his uniform jacket off. His hands unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt and loosened the tie. And there, above you, with his tousled hair and clothing, swollen lips, and blushed cheeks, you were positive you’d seen a god. 

“You gonna fuck me, or just stare?” you say, tugging him closer to your core with your legs still wrapped around his hips. He was angry.

“Gonna shut you the fuck up,” he growled, shoving his pants around his thighs, freeing himself. He looked painfully swollen, the tip of him shimmering beneath the candles floating above the two of you. He spit on his hand and, without warning, pressed the tips of his finger over your entrance, tracing the outside and slowly pressing them within you. The scream that erupted from you must have penetrated the room’s walls because of the way they’d practically shaken beneath the volume. 

By the time he’d lined himself up with your entrance and forced himself roughly inside, you’d lost all future taunts that had once danced on your lips. The only thing being freed from your worthless body were the most pathetic whimpers shoved out by Mattheo’s rough thrusts. The look in his eyes as he pushed into you was close to animalistic, his pupils blown impossibly large and his eyebrows furrowed tightly together. 

His hands held you like a vice, keeping you still as he bruised your insides, taking a piece for himself. Your lips were perpetually parted, and the breath caught in your throat presented as strangled moans. It was ridiculous what the boy did to you. 

“Yeah, baby?” he laughed, almost sadistically. “Where’s that mouth now, huh?” Perhaps you’d imagined it, but it felt as if his pace quickened if that was even possible. 

“Come on, baby, give me that teasing,” he taunted. “Where’s it at, hmm?” His hips slowed. And slowed. And slowed. Until he was only pushing into you agonizingly, slow every few seconds. His breaths were hot and heavy against your slick skin. A curl fell before his face, a singular drop of sweat teasing the edge. 

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he cooed, the palm of his hand coming up to lay gentle slaps to either side of your face. “Is it too much, baby? Is that what it is? God, you’re fucking pathetic.”

His hands reassumed his grip around your hips as he resumed his pace from before. Blindingly, bruisingly rough thrusts that threatened to split you down the middle. Your breathless whines pushed from between your lips faster.

“Tell me what you want,” he groaned, his movement never halting. Even though he knew your response would be silent and useless, he asked anyway, taunting the fact that you couldn’t force your brain to form any words together. The only thing that existed right now was him inside of you.

“Oh, baby…Am I fucking you wordless?” he purred, his words sending fire down to your core.  “Can’t even think straight with me so deep, hmm?” 

Your end was building hot and fast beneath his degrading words and his mean hands. You wouldn’t last much longer, and Mattheo knew that from the way your legs were tightening around his waist. 

Sweat slid down his neck and beneath his shirt, staining the inside with slick definition. One of his hands pushed between the two of you as he stroked his fingers across your most sensitive areas, his touch insistent and direct. Your eyes pushed to the back of your head, your back arching off of the table. Once again, he was your undoing, your legs trembling wildly beneath the weight of your finish. 

“Oh, good fucking job, baby,” Mattheo groaned beneath your clenching core, feeling his finish begin to dance across his stomach just like yours. His eyes glanced down at yours as his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, and his lips parted wider and wider, his release washing over his brain and within you.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*

[argisthebulwark]

Silly little personal hc I have that Brynjolf and tld are just down so horrendously for each other that until they finally, finally, finally confess their feelings they can not even be in the same area as the other. Brynjolf looses all ability to sneak as soon as tld is around. One minute he’s the best they’ve got, the next he is walking into everything and the loud ass sound of everything in the guild falling over and clattering to the floor is echoing throughout because he can not tear his eyes away from them. Likewise, tld is constantly having to be watched as if they are a small child because they can’t stop staring at Brynjolf and they have almost walked into the water 6 times and counting. Everyone thinks this is really fucking cute………………at first. But it doesn’t take long for everyone else in the guild, even the ones who have been there the longest, to want to leave forever. And what really doesn’t help anything is the fact that anytime any other guild member is like “Oh my god just tell them how you feel” both tld AND Bryn are like “No 😔 i can’t 😔 i don’t think they feel the same way 😔😢” These two are very quickly making the guild as a whole rethink the whole “no killing” rule feyufhhdeuuaefgbv

YESS god they'd be so cute but so annoying about it. i gotta put some under a cut because i talked too much as always.

Mercer wants to strangle Brynjolf. He's fairly certain he could get away with it. The rest of his thieves are too busy thinking it's sweet to notice the lack of productivity - his second in command can't even get through a conversation with the new recruit in the room. One moment they're discussing potential jobs and covering new clients, the next Brynjolf's stumbling over his words. Luckily Mercer's hands are swift enough to catch the inkpot before Brynjolf carelessly spilled it over weeks of planning. Fingers flexing over his dagger, Mercer watches the two idiots circle around each other. He wants to instruct Rune to stop ushering them away from the Cistern waters and let them fall in. If they can't tear their eyes away from Brynjolf long enough to walk they deserve a dip in the chilly water. Annoyance taints every interaction but they both seem blissfully unaware of Mercer's biting tone, too busy gazing at one another while he tries to hammer in the importance of their assignment.

Vex will never admit to finding them cute. Nothing good has happened in the Flagon in recent memory so watching the new recruit tiptoe around Brynjolf while he flounders trying to ask a simple question is entertaining. Her laugh comes out as a surprised snort when Brynjolf tries to make a smooth exit, knocking the wind out of his poor lungs when he walks straight into the bar. She's cautious when the recruit comes to her for an assignment, never placing her and Brynjolf in the same Hold. They'd be a disaster. The amusement quickly wears into exasperation. Vex tries to talk them into having a conversation with Brynjolf about their feelings to save them all from bodily harm. She's speechless when their newest member looks up at her with somber eyes, sighing drearily and assuring her that Brynjolf would never return their feelings. Vex bites her tongue, sure that silence is a better answer than sarcasm.

Vekel has worked among the band of thieves for ages and is glad for fresh blood. It's nice to see Brynjolf do something other than work. Feigning exhaustion he slides the recruit's drink to the redhead, insisting that Brynjolf should hand them the drink. A shattered glass and spilled ale is all he gets for his efforts, though it is sweet how the recruit worries over the cut on Brynjolf's hand. After months pass and they're still skirting around one another Vekel's ready to step in. It's clear as day to everyone else but they insist on dancing around it, taking turns moaning in the tavern about their unrequited love. He cannot stand all the pining and yearning over a love that is clearly requited.

Delvin felt something shift in their group when Brynjolf's bragging paid off and a new member bounded into the Flagon. He notices his old friend's hands shaking when he checks the cut on their forehead and listens dutifully to the tale of their journey through the Ratways. Sitting back in his chair he watches them gravitate toward each other, the unwitting way their bodies seem to shift closer. It would be sweet if the recruit hadn't tripped over half a dozen chairs on their way, the clattering sound of furniture still echoing around their tavern. "Just tell them." Delvin pleads for what feels like the thousandth time, head in his hands. He's given up all decorum and is practically begging Brynjolf to admit his feelings and save them all some time. "I can't," Brynjolf answers, the same as ever. "They don't feel the same, it wouldn't be right." "Dear gods," Delvin sighs and ponders contacting the Dark Brotherhood. He's never been too strict on the 'no killing' rule anyway.

Rune quickly finds friendship with Brynjolf's protege. It's fun listening to their stories of life before winding up in Riften and they're intrigued by his mysterious past. They open up to him about the feelings they're harboring for Brynjolf and Rune, the good friend he is, guards it as if the secret's not widely known. He walks protectively between them and the waters of the Cistern, aware that their attention is entirely on the way Brynjolf's back looks in his armor. "He's in love with you." He wants to shake the truth into them. Months of longing glances and sighs heavy with yearning have driven his kind soul to its limits. "Everyone knows. He can hardly speak when you're around." "He'd never feel that way about me." Rune watches them squirm and cannot fathom how such an otherwise intelligent person can be so blind. "We're friends but that's it. I don't want to push him." Brynjolf waves at them, a friendly gesture cut short by the clashing sound of him tripping over a rack of weapons. Rune watches his friend rush over and finds himself wishing to lock them in the broom closet until they confess their feelings.

The whole Guild excluding two lovebirds hatch a plan. They can stomach it no longer. Vex assures the recruit that it'll be an easy job - breaking into an empty house can't be too hard. Delvin sends Brynjolf after some made up artifact stashed away in the unused basement. Mercer makes vague threats about coming back empty handed. Their fellow thieves work best in the shadows, orchestrating a meeting that will hopefully solve all their problems at once.

Poor lovesick Brynjolf makes quick work of entering the unoccupied house. The lock puts up little resistance before he's melting into the shadows, stumbling when a familiar set of eyes meet his. He sees their smile and his heart skips, trying to appear calm as he steps closer. "What are you doing here?" They approach him and Brynjolf's tongue feels too thick, all words vanish from his mind. They stumble, flailing forward and he dives to catch them. Wood flooring smacks his knees when his recruit falls into him, limbs tangled together. Hearts racing they stare at each other, words lost in fear. Neither wanting to be the first to pull away they remain there, breath mingling until they can stand it no longer and kiss him. They kiss Brynjolf for all those lingering moments and unspoken desires, clumsy fingers running along their cheek after months of pining. "Seems we've been set up." Finally he doesn't stumble over his words, amazed at the sight of his protege's flushed cheek leaning into his touch. "Do you have feelings -" "Yes." He can't help but laugh at their eagerness, heart fluttering against his ribs. "Do you?" "'Course I do."

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter One}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara's blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby's Masterlist

Tara's Masterlist

5 years later….

Nyx looked at his birthday cake and the lone candle that was lit atop the icing before looking up at Feyre with a confused expression on his beautiful, little face.

His mother laughed, quietly, before leaning forward and taking out the candle. She had just blown out the flame when Rhys barely pushed the cake closer to Nyx, who put his chubby, little hands smack-dab in the middle of the icing and dug in.

Everyone had come to celebrate, and even Nesta couldn’t stop her smile from showing. At least, she let it show when she was on the opposite end of the house from the one and only, and massively self-centered, Cassian Nazari.

Of course, he would be at Nyx’s first birthday party. He was Nyx’s uncle - maybe not by blood, not that blood mattered when it came to Cassian, Rhysand, and their other lifelong friend, Azriel.

He, too, stood across the kitchen, watching as Elain snapped picture after picture of the jubilant baby, the mess atop his high chair the largest Nesta had ever seen. She knew Elain was taking notes for their own daughter’s birthday party, though she was barely three months old.

Rhysand’s smile was as big as Feyre’s as they watched their son, listening as his giggles filled the kitchen. Nyx realized quickly that the cake was for him alone and after smashing it for a few moments, he lifted a large handful to his chubby face and took a bite. His eyes lit up and that started the giggling anew.

Nesta loved her nephew and niece, had loved him since the day they were born, but she didn’t envy her sisters and their happy families. Unlike them, she had remained perfectly content on her own, especially after the endless string of disaster dates she had been forced to sit through throughout the years.

And children? It wasn’t that Nesta disliked kids. Not all kids, at least. She loved her nephew and niece, anyway. Having one of her own, though? Having to be around one every day? Every night? Having to constantly try and make a tiny person content?

No, thank you. That was a challenge she had little interest in.

A deep rumbling laugh came from across the house and Nesta looked up to find Cassian entering the kitchen, still chuckling at something Mor had said.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her lip from curling slightly as she looked at him. It only infuriated her more when he caught sight of her as he raised his beer to his lips and winked.

He was absolutely insufferable.

After their catastrophe of a date years ago, which Nesta had made Feyre promise was a stunt she’d never pull again, she had only been forced to be around Cassian Nazari a handful of times.

One of which was during Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, only months after their date.

“You only have to walk with him for thirty seconds,” Feyre had sighed, while Mor continued to pin and curl her hair into place. “You don’t have to be happy about it.”

“Good,” Nesta said, draining the glass of champagne in her hand. “Because I’m not.”

As Feyre’s maid-of-honor, it was customary that she was supposed to walk out of the wedding arm in arm with Rhysand’s best man. She wished that he’d picked Azriel, but since it seemed the Cauldron hated her, it had to be Cassian.

Elain, who was harboring the world’s most obvious crush on Azriel at the time, was thrilled with how they’d be exiting the wedding. Nevertheless, she said to Nesta, “I think you two got off on the wrong foot. He’s a really good guy, Nes.”

Nesta shot her youngest sister a look of pure annoyance through the mirror’s reflection. “Have any of you ever been on a date with the guy? And not only a date, but the worst date of your life?”

Feyre snorted, fully aware of where this conversation was headed. “No.”

“Then you have no room to talk,” Nesta snapped, admiring herself in the mirror. “Mother’s tits, Feyre, he wore jeans to the nicest restaurant in Velaris!”

“At least he didn’t wear his boots,” Mor muttered, then she caught Nesta’s glare in the mirror. “Really? He wore his boots?”

“He was dressed for an all-night, summer bonfire,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “And he’s completely full of himself. And, he forgot his wallet!”

“Not like you can’t afford dinner,” Feyre said, and Nesta’s lips snapped shut. She was fully aware that the conversation had somehow become a let’s-pick-on-Nesta session.

Feyre added, “You have to walk back down the aisle with him, share an entire table during dinner, and that’s it. No one is asking you to dance with him, but be nice.” Nesta met Feyre’s eyes, her jaw set. Feyre sighed, “Fine, be civil.”

She scoffed, but nodded. “Fine.”

The ceremony itself went off without a hitch. It was beautiful and elegant and the perfect wedding Rhys and Feyre had always wanted.

She ignored Cassian’s unending looks the whole night, managed to give her maid-of-honor speech without snarling at him, and after that, took advantage of the open bar her sister and new brother had so kindly provided.

She was coming out of the bathroom, a glass of wine still clutched in her hand, doing her best not to trip over her own feet when she walked into a wall.

A wall of solid muscle that turned out to be Cassian’s back.

When he turned around and she looked up at him, his eyes were nearly as glazed as hers.

“Hello, Nes,” he said, smirking down at her.

She bit out, “Don’t call me that.”

“That was a pretty, little speech you gave,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I know true love exists cause I’ve seen it first hand. Poetic.”

Nesta scoffed, brushing off the skirt of her dress as if he had tainted it. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t referring to you. I was talking about Feyre and Rhys, in case you thought otherwise.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” he promised. “Honestly, I didn’t think you were talking about anyone. Just some fluffy shit that sounded sweet. Unless it’s that guy that showed up at the restaurant and ruined our date. Oh, wait,” he began, tapping his chin as if in deep thought, “You dumped him though, right? Poor bastard.”

“You’re a prick,” Nesta bit out. She refrained from saying that Tomas hadn’t ruined their date. It was sad that seeing her ex was one the bright points of her night, rather than seeing the Greek god standing before her. The pretentious, cocky asshole of a Greek god.

He only grinned. “But am I a liar?”

Nesta’s jaw locked. She eyed his tux. “I’m just glad you decided to clean up for your own brother’s wedding. No jeans?”

He scoffed. “Is that the worst you’ve got?”

“Do you prefer me to give you my worst?” she asked, brows furrowing. “If so, you may want to be careful what you wish for.”

Cassian said nothing, just lifted the beer she hadn’t noticed in his hands to his lips.

Nesta rolled her eyes, brushing past him, and made a move to head back into the reception.

His voice called out behind her, “You don’t have to be such a miserable bitch, you know?”

She froze, looking back at him. He was no longer smirking at her. Instead, his eyes were intense. “Excuse you?”

“You’re so miserable that you won’t allow anyone else to have any fun, won’t allow yourself to either,” he said, still leaning against that damn wall. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, his dress shirt tight and loose in all the right places. “You want everyone else to suffer, just because you’re forcing yourself to, for whatever reason.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she bit out, stalking back over to him. She was so close she had to look up into his face.

“I don’t,” he said, words clipped. “I tried, but you didn’t seem very inclined to let me get to know you during our date. You were more concerned with my attire and your ex than you were with me. You thought all I wanted to do was fuck you.” His eyes, still glassy and glazed, dragged down her body and back up again. “Besides, you’ve got that damn stick shoved so far up your ass, there wouldn’t have been room for my cock even if I’d really even tried.”

A blink was Nesta’s only reaction. Then her hand was moving of its own accord, splashing her full glass of wine directly in his face and all over that pretty, white shirt.

“Go fuck yourself,” was all she’d said before she walked back into the ceremony, leaving him there to drip on the venue’s fancy carpet.

“Nesta!”

She blinked, Feyre’s voice drawing Nesta out of her memories, looking over at her sister. She stood next to Rhys and Elain, who had her camera in her hands, and Cassian stood behind Nyx’s high chair.

“I want a picture of him with his godparents, come here,” she beamed and Nesta tried not to cringe.

She had been so proud, her heart feeling like it would burst when Feyre and Rhys had asked her to be Nyx’s godmother. There was no hesitation when she said yes, tears lining her eyes as she’d hugged both her sister and brother-in-law.

She tried not to think about the fact that when they’d told her Cassian was his godfather, she nearly asked them to give the distinction to Elain.

But she hadn’t, wouldn’t. Despite what others, especially Cassian, thought of her… Nesta loved her nephew.

She loved her family.

With a sigh, Nesta meandered over to Nyx’s high chair. “Alright.”

“Closer,” Feyre ordered, gesturing Nesta to move in closer beside Cassian behind the high chair.

Nesta’s lips pursed but she took another step toward the boys for her sister’s sake.

“I’m not poisonous, Nesta,” Cassian muttered, smiling at the camera as he spoke. “You won’t burst into flames if we brush arms.”

“You’d be so lucky to brush arms with me,” she muttered back, hoping the smile she was giving her sister was convincing - and knowing full well that it wasn’t.

Without another word, Cassian tossed his arm around Nesta and said, “Cheeeeese!”

Nyx was giggling, looking up at his godparents behind him. There was so much joy and adoration in those big, beautiful eyes that Nesta didn’t have the heart to storm off, leaving Cassian in her dust, no matter how much she wanted to.

The camera’s flash went off and Nesta pushed Cassian’s arm off her shoulder.

The rest of the party was perfect. Feyre took Nyx up to the bathroom to clean him off, while Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian hauled his many gifts out into the living room. Feyre opened them one by one, despite everyone knowing Nyx had no clue what was going on, though he did clap his chubby little hands and giggle at a few particular items. Nesta stood off to the side with Elain, holding a milk-drunk, sleepy Seph in her arms.

Azriel and Elain’s little girl had been a surprise, neither of them planning on Elain getting pregnant so soon after they got married. They both fell into the role of parents so seamlessly though, that Nesta knew another baby would be in their near future. They adored the baby girl, and she was the most perfect baby Nesta had ever seen.

Persephone hardly cried, only doing so when she was hungry or needed to be changed, and once whatever wrong was taken care of, she became a happy, smiley baby again.

Nyx, on the other hand, had been a hellion as a baby.

Which was to be expected, considering who his father was. Although responsible when necessary, Rhysand was just as much of a madman as Cassian...especially when infused with alcohol.

“You look good with a baby,” Elain crooned from beside her sister.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You can keep trying to push me down the marriage-baby road, but I just won’t take it. Wasting your time.”

Elain sighed, dramatically, with that little grin remaining on her soft pink lips. “As long as you stay such a good auntie, I suppose I can’t complain.”

Nesta looked down at the sweet, sleeping infant in her arms. She didn’t mind those little snuggles.

She did mind the diaper blowouts, constant spit-ups, and loud crying, though. That’s usually when she gave Seph back to her parents and blissfully enjoyed her independent life.

Feyre gasped and Nesta looked up. She was holding a little guitar that had Nyx’s name and the night sky engraved into the dark-stained wood.

Nesta’s eyes snapped to Cassian.

Cassian smiled, fondly, at Feyre. “I know he won’t be able to start messing with it for another few years, but I couldn't help myself.”

“He made that himself, you know.” Nesta’s eyes shot to Elain, who was watching the scene before them. She whispered again, “He doesn’t do it for a living, of course, but it’s a hobby of his, making guitars. He’s really good.”

She blinked, the information catching her off guard for whatever reason. But all she said was, “That’s nice.”

She spent the rest of the afternoon, ignoring the man as much as she could, as she always did. But as the guests began to dwindle, as Nyx and Seph went down for their naps, the three sisters gathered in the living room, while Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian went out back to inspect the small jungle gym Rhys was building for Nyx. Again, he was too young to use most of it, but the tiny swing and slide would be hours of fun for the little man.

Feyre brought two cups of coffee out to her sisters before collapsing next to Elain on the couch. “That could not have gone better if we tried.”

Nesta leveled her a look and raised an eyebrow.. “If we tried? You had a minute-by-minute itinerary for a one-year-old’s birthday.”

“Everything was perfect,” Elain smiled, cutting off Nesta, blowing on her coffee gently. “Nyx had a good time, neither he nor Seph had a blow-up, Cassian and Nesta managed to be in the same room without stabbing each other. All in all, a good day.”

Nesta rolled her eyes before throwing a vulgar gesture towards her sisters, who were both laughing.

“Fine, new subject,” Feyre grinned. “Oh! Before I forget, Rhys and I are going out of town for our anniversary in a few weeks. I was hoping you could watch Nyx for a few days.”

It took Nesta a moment to realize that Feyre was talking to her. She froze, having been blowing on her own hot coffee. “I’m sorry, what?”

Feyre laughed, quietly. “I was hoping that you could watch Nyx while Rhys and I go away for a long weekend. We’re going to the mountains for our anniversary. To his family’s cabin.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Elain said, looking at Nesta.

Who blinked, having only unfrozen to set her coffee down on the table between them. “You want me…to watch Nyx…for the weekend? Alone? By myself? Just me and him?”

“That’s what I was hoping for, yeah,” Feyre said, nodding as she sipped from her cup. “You can come here, where all of his stuff is in one place, and make yourself at home.” She shrugged. “I’ll leave money for takeout and the key to the wine cabinet.”

Nesta hesitated. “I’ve only babysat Nyx a couple of times…all for, like, an hour each.”

“It will be fine,” she said, a genuine smile on her face. “It will only be three nights, really. We’ll leave after work on Thursday and be home Sunday evening.”

Nesta stammered and shook her head. “I have to work on Friday, the restaurant-.”

“I’ll keep him during the day on Friday,” Elain offered. “I don’t have any shoots that day, so he can spend the day with me and Seph.”

“You could keep him the whole weekend,” Nesta tried, looking at her younger sister hopefully.

“Seph is enough of a handful,” she chuckled, glancing at Feyre, who was nodding as well. “I don’t think I can handle two at once for an entire weekend.”

“Please, Nes,” Feyre said, drawing her eldest sister’s eyes to her. “I know you can do it and it would be nice for you to spend some time together, just you two.”

“And you can call me, if you need anything,” Elain added.

Nesta looked from Feyre to Elain. “You two already planned this.” They at least had the wherewithal to look guilty. She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Fine. But I’ll probably end up calling both of you every thirty seconds.”

“I can work with that,” Feyre said, just as Elain said, “Then it’s settled!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “But, I hope you know that I wouldn’t do this for anybody else.”

“Oh, I know,” Feyre grinned, “which is what makes you such a wonderful, wonderful big sister.”

“I am pretty damn wonderful,” Nesta agreed, grinning as she sipped from her mug.

As she drank, she peeked out the window, where the boys were putting together the playset. Once she did, only one thing caught her eye.

Cassian was already watching her.

And when he caught her gaze, that stupid little, cocky-ass grin appeared.

She hated that grin, hated it with every ounce of her being.

And she wouldn’t feel bad for it, no matter how much her sisters adored the guy.

She hated him, hated Cassian Nazari.

And she always would.

[stayevildarling]

Please make the Cordelia showing her gfs a new magic trick into a fic.

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Tainting

TW: cursing, mention of smut

You wake up to the sun rising, birds tweeting outside the window and feeling a set of warm arms wrapped around you. Sleepily you open your eyes only to see it's Billie next to you, scrolling on her phone while holding you close. ''Good morning babydoll'' she says softly and puts her phone down. ''Morning Billie'' you say, your voice still sounding a bit croaky from just waking up. ''Are Mina and Delia at work already?'' you ask not actually remembering what your other two girlfriends said about work today. ''Yeah they left babydoll, which means I got you all to myself today'' the medium replies with a smirk and you chuckle. You stay in each others arms for a while, just enjoying the company of Billie because usually she would also be up and at work quite early in the morning, either in meetings or filming her show so you enjoy some alone time with her on your day off. ''Now how about breakfast Miss Howard?'' you ask and Billie replies ''Well I had something in mind'' looking up and down your body and biting her lip but you shake your head with a smile. ''Not now Miss Howard'' and you get up and walk into the kitchen and before walking off you say ''Maybe if you behave'' with a wink and Billie is quick to get out of bed and follow you

She chases you around the house and kitchen and wraps her arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek and turning you around. ''Don't be naughty kitten'' but you argue ''Naughty? I'm making you breakfast right now'' and Billie simply smirks before walking off, swaying her hips more than necessary and walking to the balcony to have cigarette. You can see her lighting it through the window and you can't help but stare at her while you get the necessary ingredients for breakfast. She looks stunning, even after waking up, without makeup and her hair a bit messy but she looks beautiful. You start mixing the ingredients into a bowl to make pancakes. ''What are you making kitten?'' Billie asks after coming back and sitting by the kitchen island. ''Pancakes'' you explain while trying to concentrate on filling it evenly into a pan. ''Yes I fucking love your pancakes'' Billie says and you chuckle a little while making some coffee for you and your girlfriend. After the pancakes are finished you set two plates on the island and sit opposite Billie. She takes a few bites and moans at the taste but she does it to annoy you, because she knows you hate whenever she makes those sounds and it's not in the bedroom. ''These are so fucking good'' she says and you smile and reply ''Mina would be mad at you right now'' and Billie furrows her eyebrows ''Why?'' and you explain ''You know she hates cursing'' and Billie rolls her eyes ''Well can you see her anywhere? No'' the blonde replies causing you to simply chuckle and carry on eating. ''Mina is a huge fucking hypocrite anyway'' Billie adds

After cleaning the kitchen and Billie barely able to keep her hands off you, you just made it to the sofa before Billie straddled you and started attacking you with kisses. ''I love having my babydoll all to myself'' she whispers in your ear while trailing kisses down your neck. You breathe heavy while Billie carries on making out with you. The two of you ended up spending quite a few hours on that sofa and you both ended up so sweaty that you took a shower together and the fun carried on in there. ''Mommy's gonna need a fucking cigarette after this babydoll'' she sighs and walks out the bathroom in her bathrobe, towel wrapped around her head and swaying her hips on the way to the balcony again. As you take a look at the time your eyes widen realizing you and Billie were at this for hours and Cordelia would return from the academy soon. Quickly you walk around the apartment and you pick up any rubbish or towels or Billie's lingerie on the floor and you tidy up. And just in time before the supreme enters after a long day at the academy. ''Hi Delia'' you say excitedly and she smiles lovingly at you ''Hello sweetheart'' she says before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. ''I missed you Delia'' you admit and Cordelia's eyes lock with yours. ''I missed you too sweetie'' she says and Billie walks in ''Well rude I thought you enjoyed my company today babydoll'' and you roll your eyes playfully while Billie greets Cordelia with a quick kiss on the lips. ''So what have you two been up to?'' Cordelia asks but Billie is quick to head to the sofa and watch her tv show as if nothing happened. ''Well I am going to make dinner for when Mina is back'' you say also not wanting to tell her you have mostly been doing each other all day. ''Well I see'' Cordelia says a bit flustered, her cheeks red.

You prepared some of Mina's favorite pasta, feeling bad that she always has to work so long and so much all day and hoping you could cheer up her day a little. Before you know it she is home and as you bring the food and plates into the dining room your three girlfriends are all there together. Delia is reading something, Billie watching her show and Wilhemina sitting by the table. ''Oh Hi Mina, I missed you'' you say and place a kiss on her lips. ''I missed you too little one'' she says and you ask ''How was your day?'' and she replies ''Good apart from the two idiots'' indicating her bosses. ''Dinner is done'' you shout, letting your other two girlfriends know. ''Hmm smells delicious sweetheart'' Cordelia says, kissing your cheek and Billie just still focussed on her show. ''Mind turning that show off Miss Howard?'' Wilhemina asks now a bit annoyed, just wanting to eat your food already. ''Okay okay calm down babydoll'' she says wanting to annoy Wilhemina with the petname and Mina simply rolling her eyes in a playful way. You four enjoy dinner, everyone talking about their days apart from you and Billie avoiding to actually say what you did all day. Mina talks about some upcoming projects at her work and her idiot bosses. Cordelia talking about Madison getting on her nerves and new students at the academy ''By the way after dinner I gotta show you this magic trick Zoe showed me'' Cordelia says and smiles. ''Cordelia you know I don't like all the magic stuff'' Wilhemina hisses but the supreme defends herself ''Wilhemina you only don't like the magic stuff when it doesn't involve sex'' and you and Billie glance at each other, trying hard not to laugh after Wilhemina just got absolutely roasted by Cordelia. After dinner, Billie helps you clean up, while Wilhemina takes a bath and Cordelia prepares to show you the magic tricks she discovered.

''Okay I will need a glass of water'' Cordelia says having prepared for the tricks to show you. You quickly get her one and you, Billie and Wilhemina all sit on the sofa, while Cordelia stands a few feet away with a cup of water on the sofa table. Wilhemina looks very displeased and not amused because like Cordelia said she only enjoys magical tricks that include orgasms. Billie is very excited and so are you because Cordelia doesn't usually show off anything especially not her magic so this must be exciting. Cordelia moves her hands and with a flick or her wrist the water shoots up in the air as if it's frozen and suddenly the water turns into shapes like little dolphins and letters or shapes like hearts and all that without spilling anywhere. Both yours and Billie's mouth is open, never having seen such cool magic before apart from the rose color changing spell and Wilhemina trying hard to stay unimpressed but it's obvious she also thinks it's amazing. Delia finishes the spell with a proud smile and making the water split in three heart shapes, making them fly towards you three in your favorite colors before dropping it all in the glass again and just like that there is the glass of water again as if nothing happened. Billie blinks a few times unable to believe this and after you can finally muster up a reply you say ''Cordelia that was so fucking cool oh my god'' and Cordelia simply smiles proudly while Wilhemina glares directly at Billie. ''What?'' the medium asks shrugging her shoulders. ''You tainted her'' Wilhemina states and snaps her head in the other direction. Not only hating anyone cursing, apart from herself but especially when you do it because she thinks you are way too pure and innocent and her putting the entire blame on Billie for this. ''Excuse me I have done nothing of such sorts'' Billie plays with her nails and tries to brush Wilhemina's comment off. ''Of course you have Billie, that foul mouth of yours constantly teaches her these words'' Wilhemina snaps and you and Cordelia just look at each other, not sure what to actually say. ''Well usually you like that foul mouth of mine Wilhemina especially when you beg me to eat you out'' Billie says and you simply try and not laugh because Wilhemina might actually kill you. ''I-'' Wilhemina says unable to even comprehend Billie's words let alone form a reply. ''Now come on you two, how about we just enjoy our evening together'' Cordelia suggests not wanting any arguing to happen, although she internally agrees with Mina because Billie really does have a foul mouth sometimes. ''I agree, how about movies and dessert?'' you ask excitedly almost sounding like a child. What you fail to see is that Wilhemina, Cordelia and Billie all looked at each other in the same moment when you mentioned dessert. ''How about we go to bed instead sweetheart?'' Cordelia asks, walking towards you while biting her lip and your insides flutters when you see her looking at you with bedroom eyes. ''Um yeah that actually sounds better'' you say and the three of them chuckle while following you into the bedroom.

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

The red head chasseur looked at the bloody corpse on the road, it seems he had arrived to late. Not that he minded as he could still see the red trail of blood on the road. He set into a run following the trail, he didn't have time to wait for someone more experience, not when he knew what to do and he didn't want another person to lose their life because a wild vampire was running loose. He didn't even hesitate to stick the needle into his neck to strength his perception and his speed as his scythe was hanging on his back. Maybe if he was lucky Ibara was already waiting in the other end. But for now it felt like his blue eyes was shining under his hood as he was running

"There's always one thing after another," Rinne groused, unamused. He was pretty sure it was simply a matter of time before the Chasseurs showed up and he wasn't about to deal with them unless he absolutely had to. The Curse Bearer was close too, he could hear the snarls and what sounded like cracking of bones not too far off in the southward direction.

(That, and well, it was far too easy to follow the gruesome trail of blood that led that way as well.)

Rinne reached for the book that hung by his side. Its pages black and its cover a dark blue, the book held the power to rewrite the very Formula of the World. Using that power, Rinne could enter a vampire's psyche and undo the taint the malnomen had put over the vampire's true name, purifying them. Thus, Rinne called himself a 'vampire doctor'.

Of course, this profession came with its fair share of dangers. And it constantly put him at odds with the Chasseurs, as they believed all vampires were a slight against God and that trying to save a Cursebearer instead of simply putting them out of their misery was an act of blasphemy.

Bullshit, Rinne thought. But the Chasseurs always did view themselves as far too damn important.

He heard steps, running steps, and he cursed. He had been lax for a moment, his thoughts wandering. He whipped around and came face to face with a young Chasseur - from the looks of the boy's clothes - and any quip that had been about to leave Rinne's lips simply just... Died down.

Fuck.

[mammonshuman92]

- Watched -

Mammon & GN!MC

** TW: Stalking, cussing, religion (ish? I guess?)

| part two | | part three |

It’s been nearly 6 months since you left the Devildom. You picked up where you had left off in the human world: college, work, home, repeat. Sure, you missed your family while you were away, but now your heart aches almost constantly for the new family you loved so much, that you had to leave behind. (Not that you really had a choice in the matter.)

 As much as it hurt to leave the brothers, Diavolo was right. Establishing harmony and unity with the three realms won’t go over too well if one of the human representatives doesn’t go back to the human world, now will it? Still, it sucks. Life is so boring without all of them.

And quiet.

It’s not like you don’t talk though. Yeah, Diavolo has that rule in place where they have to take turns talking to you because “human’s lives are short” and they were “taking up too much of your time”, but that’s not really going to stop them, is it?

Well kinda, actually.

You can’t really argue with a direct order from the demon lord, after all.

-

Is it Asmo's day to call? You thought to yourself, trying to remember (not that you ever could) the schedule Lucifer came up with. Your own schedule was hard enough to remember.

You had been picking up extra shifts at work and staying late to study at school when you could. Finding any reason to stay busy or get out of the house. The deafening silence was too much to bear.

"I wonder when I can go visit? I should call Diavolo.." you said to yourself quietly.

You were walking home from your shift at the coffee shop near campus. The sun was just starting to set and the air was slightly crisp, causing you to pull your jacket a little tighter.

If it weren't for the brilliant pinks and warm oranges cast on the sky by the setting sun, it would've felt like a regular night in the Devildom. Memories of your last few days spent there came flooding back, bringing the sadness along with them.

In just one year, you had gotten so close to everyone, but you had gotten especially close to Mammon. He was responsible for you in the beginning of course, but the connection was undeniable (no matter how much he did deny it). He was a total simp for you, and you for him. It was rather cringey to everyone else. He could be a handful at times, but that tsundere really is a great boyfriend. Leaving him behind was... well, there's no words for it.

Rounding the corner, you could see your house perfectly. Now that the sun had gone down a bit more, it was getting darker and you were suddenly thankful that you remembered to turn on the porch light before you left.

You pulled your keys from your jacket pocket while climbing the few steps to your front door, and something caught your eye. Your stomach dropped.

Not again..

You plucked the folded piece of paper that was stuck in the screen door and quickly made your way inside, locking the door behind you.With a heavy sigh, you tossed your keys on the table by the door and dropped your bag on the floor beside you. You immediately went to shower and change not giving the paper a second thought.

Not everyone in the human world agreed with the Devildom exchange student program. After you and Solomon had arrived in the Devildom, there were numerous protests by a group much like the Westboro lunatics. They were without a doubt against the program and called for it’s immediate termination. Thankfully, their personal hatred was no match for the opportunity for the realms to find peace.

 When you had returned, you noticed people whispering about you, calling you names and giving you dirty looks. You've even received quite a few pieces of hate mail. Granted, the people opposed to the program were very small in numbers, even if it didn’t seem that way. It didn't bother you though. Demons ended up being some of the most important people to you. Not to mention you were kinda in love with one of them. People could say what they wanted about the Devildom and about you, their words didn't bother you.

You were still towel drying your hair when your phone rang. Tossing the towel, you rushed to the living room to fish it out of your bag, Asmo's face popping up on the caller ID. You were right, it was Asmo’s night. You were secretly hoping it was a certain greedy demon’s turn to call (not that he doesn’t text you almost constantly.)

Asmo was the same as usual. Talking animatedly about this and that, gushing over new beauty products and outfits, filling you in on all the gossip you were missing. While he was rambling, your eyes fell onto the paper that was in your door. Might as well look at the newest piece of hate mail, right? 

You began unfolding the paper, quickly giving Asmo an “omg!” about the gossip he was dishing (even though you hadn’t been paying attention.)

Upon seeing the contents, all the color drained from your face. You were sure your heart sank into your stomach, but you could hear the rapid beating in your ears. You suddenly felt hot, and the air around you seemed thick.

Then the adrenaline kicked in.

With shaky hands, you quickly checked the front door making sure it was locked, and headed to the back door to do the same. You rushed around checking the windows and pulling all the curtains closed. Everything seemed fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, that didn’t settle your nerves any.

“MC, dear? Did you hear me?” The sound of Asmo’s voice brought you out of your frantic state.

“Huh? S-sorry Asmo. I guess I s-spaced out.” You tried your best to keep your tone normal and steady your breathing, as to not alert him to anything. You really should give him more credit, though.

“MC? Is everything alright?” His tone was different, no longer playful and flirty. You could hear the concern.

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. More hate mail is all. No biggie.” You lied. Maybe he would believe it..

There was a pause on his end, “You’re STILL getting it? Don’t they have anything better to do?” Good, he bought it. For now, anyway.

After about 10 more minutes Asmo said his goodbyes, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

This piece hate mail turned out to be something much worse than the run of the mill stuff you usually received. Inside there were pictures. Of you. At work, at school, the grocery store, ...outside your house. There was also a newspaper clipping that had a picture of you and your family, from when your parents first opened their bakery a few years back. There were red ‘Xs’ marked through everyone’s faces...

The only words scrawled inside read, “I’ve been watching you. You will pay for what you’ve done, whore. And don’t even think about telling your demon fuck buddies. I know everything about you and your family. It’d be a shame if anything happened to poor old Mom and Dad because their child is an unholy slut.”

You read it over and over, tears streaking your cheeks. Hate mail was nothing new, but now this? A stalker? 

Maybe I’m just over thinking it. The other hate mail was spicy too. But these pictures... There is NO way I’m over thinking this..

“Regardless, I can’t tell the brothers.” You shuddered at what their reaction would be like. It would definitely make all of Diavolo’s hard work on the exchange program obsolete. It wouldn’t be good for any of the three realms. There was still a long way to go, but the program was a giant step in the right direction to obtaining peace and understanding. If dealing with some backlash and hate mail could help get closer to that goal, then for the sake of the greater could, you could handle it.

“For now, I will bear this burden myself.”

- {3 weeks later} -

“Are you okay?”

The simple question nearly made you squeak and nearly jump out of your skin. You turn and meet the worried gaze of your lab partner. You weren’t super close with her, so you knew your current state had to be bad if she was picking up on it.

God, do I really look that bad? You got a good look at yourself this morning, and yeah, you absolutely look that bad. But then again, you haven’t really slept in a few weeks. You had gigantic purple eye bags, your hair looked like a family of birds took up residence in it. Your skin was pale and lifeless, and you began skin picking at your nails due to the anxiety. You’d even lost about twenty pounds.

“Sorry, I guess I was spacing out.”

“It’s alright. It’s just- no offense, but you look awful. Have you been sleeping?” She asked, eyes scanning your face.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Promise.” You lied. She nodded and gave you a weak smile, dropping the subject for now.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to class today. Well, for the last several days, really. You’ve been putting in less effort for a lot of things lately. You’ve been slacking off bad at school and barely keeping up at work. Not to mention you never sleep anymore. How can you though?

You left class early and although it was still early in the day, you decided to skip the rest of your lectures for the day. You’ve always been a fantastic student, so taking a day off wouldn’t really hurt anything. And seeing as today was Thursday, you didn’t even have work today. Same as every week.

 Upon arriving home, you were relieved to see that there weren’t any notes left for you. Yet, anyway.

Ever since the first letter a few weeks ago, they’ve been showing up constantly. Only a few times the first week or so, but now you get at least one every single day. They’re also increasing in severity. The sender seems to be becoming more and more unhinged with every passing day.

“Dirty demon whore!!”

“You’re a HUMAN!! How dare you taint your body with demons!”

“I will cleanse you and make you pure again.”

There was so, so much more. All of it growing more and more explicit with each letter.

The whole thing was taking a huge tool on you, but what could you do? Your family’s safety was on the line. You so badly wanted to tell Mammon of even the cops, but you couldn’t live with yourself if anything bad were to happen. Whatever this psycho had planned, you would gladly put yourself in the line of fire to save those closest to you.

The whole situation has also affected your relationship with Mammon and the rest of the brothers as well. At first, you tried to hide what was happening, but they started getting suspicious and asking questions. Always wondering why you sounded so tired and why you kept cutting their phone calls super short. You always rejected their face time requests, knowing that your drastic change in appearance would be alarming and alert them that something was wrong. Lately, you’ve barely talked to any of them. Especially Mammon. He’d be the first to figure out something was wrong with you and come here ready to fight.

That honestly didn’t sound too bad. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you while you ugly cried. Breathing in his scent while he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

Your heart started to ache.

-

When you got home you decided to take a nice, hot shower to hopefully help ease some of your tension and possibly begin to get a handle on your quickly deteriorating self care status.

Once you felt somewhat normal again, you put on your comfiest pj’s (which included one of Mammon’s shirts) and plopped yourself on your bed in the fetal position. It was the only thing that kinda helped ease a tiny bit of the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control. The warm scent of your most favorite demon helped calm you.

*bzzz* *bzzz* *bzzz*

Damn. I almost fell asleep..

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and reached for your D.D.D. on your nightstand. The called ID made your heart rate accelerate and your palms sweaty.

It’s him.

“Mammon..? I thought it was Beel’s turn to call?”

“I don’t care about Lucifer’s stupid schedule. I need to talk to ya.” His tone made him sound like he was on edge.

“Oh, ok. What’s up?”

He scoffed, “Really? You’ve barely messaged me back in three days. The last time I called, ya hung up after five minutes.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.” Every lie helps break your heart just a little more. 

“You’ve never been too busy before. Besides, shouldn’t ya be in a class right now or somethin’? It ain’t even noon.”

“I left class early and I’m skipping the rest of the day.” You explained.

“..Hmm.” He replied, you could detect suspicion in his response.

It was quiet on his end for a moment.

“MC?”

“Yeah?”

“..Do ya got another boyfriend? Cause The Great Mammon is definitely better! And-and, I’ll kick their ass!”

“What? Mammon, no. One boyfriend is almost more than I can handle.”

“Wha- hey!”

For the first time in who knows when, you actually giggled. It felt so good.

“So, you swear nothin’ is wrong? You’ve been actin’ so weird.” His voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I swear.” Lie.

As good as it felt to talk to him, you needed to end the call before he ended up dragging the truth out of you. If any one could figure out what was wrong with you, it’d be him. The two of you had spent so much time together, that you can practically read each other like a book.

“I gotta go, ok? I have work later and I need to get ready.” Lie. But, you needed to get off the phone with him before he suspects anything.

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded so defeated. You could almost hear him pouting.

After a quicker goodbye than you usually have when getting off the phone with Mammon, you fell back onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

That was a little rough, but he seemed to believe it. I hope this will all be over soon.

With that, you quickly fell asleep, lulled by the memory of your demon’s voice. Although you wouldn’t sleep long, at least you got to fall asleep to the thought of him.

-

*bzzz* *bzzz* *bzzz*

Geez, are ya gonna answer or not? Ya always pick up on the second ring when I call ya.., Mammon thought.

Finally, on the sixth ring, “Mammon..? I thought it was Beel’s turn to call?”

Man, hearing your voice is like music.

“I don’t care about Lucifer’s stupid schedule. I need to talk to ya.” His tone made him sound a little rougher than intended, but it was all the same. He needed to hear you voice.

“Oh, ok. What’s up?”

He scoffed, “Really? You’ve barely messaged me back in three days. The last time I called, ya hung up after five minutes.”

I miss ya like crazy. Ya keep avoiding me..

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.” 

Huh? But, MC is always busy doing somethin’ and it never stopped em’ before..

He started getting an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. He could tell something was off, but he just didn’t know what it was.

Is it ...someone else? Nah, MC wouldn’t do that. ...Right??

“You’ve never been too busy before. Besides, shouldn’t ya be in a class right now or somethin’? It ain’t even noon.” He didn’t try to hide the pout, that he knew you could hear, in his voice. His own thoughts were beginning to hurt his feelings.

“I left class early and I’m skipping the rest of the day.” MC explained.

“..Hmm.” He hummed. Thoughts started swirling around in his head.

MC never skips school, not even at RAD. Somethin’ is definitely going on. And what’s with the short answers? MC always talks like crazy. Maybe they’re mad at me?

It was quiet for a moment while he tried to sort through his thoughts.

“MC?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“..D-do ya got another boyfriend? Cause The Great Mammon is definitely better! And-and, I’ll kick their ass!”

“What? Mammon, no. One boyfriend is almost more than I can handle.”

“Wha- hey!” You giggled at his response. It was small, but he heard it. It made his heart swim.

All joking aside, he did believe you. Something was definitely not right with you though.

“So, you swear nothin’ is wrong? You’ve been actin’ so weird.” His voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I swear.” Those three words caused his heart to sink.

That was a lie.. MC only says ‘I swear’ while tryin’ to act like somethin’ ain’t wrong..

He pushed his thoughts aside for the time being and continued the conversation. It only lasted a few more minutes before you started saying your goodbyes. Again, cutting the call short.

“I gotta go, ok? I have work later and I need to get ready.” 

Hmm. Why does that seem weird?

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded so defeated.

There was, without a doubt in his mind, something going on. Something that would make you lie to him..

One way or another, he was going to find out.

-

“Mammon? Are you alright?”

Mammon was sprawled out on the couch in the common room. After talking to you, he was lost in his thoughts and feeling rather down. Beel passed by the common room on his was back from the kitchen when he saw his older brother. Noticing that he looked sad, Beel went to investigate.

Mammon looked up to meet Bee’s concerned gaze and with a sigh, he sat up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Mammon said, as he stood up to leave. Beel could tell he was obviously lying, but decided not to press the issue.

Mammon stopped a few paces away from Beel, and turned back around to face him.

“Hey, Beel. Was MC actin’, I don’t know, “off”, the last time ya talked to em’?” He asked the sixth born, thinking maybe you had accidentally let something slip.

Beel’s face seemed to twist up a little bit, and he nodded.

“Yeah, kind of. MC used to sound excited when I called, but now they hardly talk at all. And they used to send me pictures of the food they were eating and new recipes, at least twice a day, but it’s been about two weeks since the last one they sent.” He explained, sadness in his voice. While in the Devildom, you were his favorite person to eat with.

Mammon nodded at his brother, getting lost in his thoughts again.

So, it’s not just me. MC is actin’ strange with Beel too..

Neither of them had paid been paying enough attention to see Asmo enter the room.

“Mammon, there you are. I’m going out, and I need my new bag from Majolish. The one I let you borrow. And i swear, if you sold it-” Asmo stopped mid sentence when he noticed the sad state two of his brothers.

“Is it about MC?” He asked, nonchalaunt.

Mammon’s head snapped toward his brother.

“What do you mean? Did they say somethin’ to ya?” Mammon asked quickly, taking a few steps closer to his brother.

MC and Asmo always gossip with each other, so maybe they’d tell him somethin’..

“Calm down. MC really hasn’t talked to me much in the last month. I’m so hurt! Who else am I going to talk beauty products with? Lucifer? Goodness, no.”

“Asmo!” Mammon said loudly, trying to get the fifth born back on track.

“Oh, right. Let’s see.” He put a finger to his chin and thought about it. “Hmm. The only thing I can think of was during the last normal conversation I had with them. They said something about receiving a piece of hate mail. They said it was no big deal, but I distinctly remember MC seemed flustered by it. Which I thought was weird, considering it’s definitely not the first one they’d received..” Asmo explained.

Hate mail? MC has only mentioned it to me a couple times. Do they really get it that often..?

“How long ago was that?” Mammon asked. He felt like he was on the brink of something. Just a few more puzzle pieces..

“Hmm, it was right before MC started acting distant toward me. So, about three or four weeks, maybe.” Asmo explained. That’s around the time you had started acting weird with Mammon too.

“So, maybe something happened to MC.” Beel suggested.

“No, MC would tell us. ..Right?” Asmo questioned.

Mammon was so confused.

What is goin’ on with you, MC?

-

After talking with his brothers, Mammon holed himself up in his room. He didn’t really want to be around anyone at the moment. His thoughts were driving him crazy and giving him a headache. What was he not seeing? What piece of the puzzle was he missing?

He started going over your last conversation again, for the millionth time, looking for any kind of clue. But, you seemed normal. Well, your new normal, anyway. Distant, short answers, not giving too much to the conversation. What were you hiding?

It was something about the end of your conversation, but what was it?

He remembered your small giggle. The memory caused a smile to break out across his face. It gave him a tiny bit of hope that you were still there. That you still loved him. That whatever was troubling you, wasn’t making you forget them completely.

It was after that though. You had said “I swear”, which was a red flag, considering you only say it when you’re trying to convince him you’re ok when you’re really not.

He sighed, and rolled over on his bed. He looked at the alarm clock on his night stand, numbers glowing an angry red.

MC is probably at work right now..

Something caught his eye.

Today is Thursday... MC never works on Thursday. I guess the schedule coulda changed. No, cause MC specifically requested to always have that day off for some reason. Delivery day at their family’s bakery, I think. ...MC lied, again..

Then it hit him.

The small little lies. Avoiding all of them, even him for weeks now. Barely talking when you do answer the phone. The way you always sounded so tired and out of it.

It had something to do with what Asmo said about the hate mail.

“Hmm. The only thing I can think of was during the last normal conversation I had with them. They said something about receiving a piece of hate mail. They said it was no big deal, but I distinctly remember MC seemed flustered by it. Which I thought was weird, considering it’s definitely not the first one they’d received..”

Mammon didn’t even know that you’d been receiving that much hate mail. Sure, you’d told him about it a couple times, but he didn’t think it was that bad. Maybe it was actually pretty serious. Is that why you’d been so distant.

Mammon got up from his bed, and began pacing around the room. He almost had it figured out, he could feel it.

Asmo said MC seemed flustered, so it had to have somethin’ to do with the hate mail they received that day, since after that is when MC started actin’ weird.What if it’s somethin’ bad. Like, bad bad. 

He stopped pacing.

The thought of MC being in danger was...

Mammon grabbed his jacket, where it was thrown onto the pool table and left his room in a hurry. He was on his way to Lucifer’s study, mentally preparing himself on the way. He was sure he knew what his brother’s answer would be, but he wasn’t going to just sit here. He needed to know that you were, in fact alright, with his own eyes.

I’m going to the human world. Whether Lucifer allows it or not.

| part two | | part three |

[emkay512]

Once Upon A Time

Chapter 2

Summary: This starts at the beginning of TRR book 2 with the Fydelia ball but with a different series of events. This AU is based off the show Once Upon a Time with Riley and Liam mirroring Snow and Charming. Characters belong to Pixelberry.

A/N: I honestly CAN’T believe how much attention the first part got! I can’t feel very confident that this is as good, so please know that I have no idea what I’m doing!! But please continue to give me your thoughts and feedback. Thank you to anyone who is reading!

A/N 2: Thank you so much to @queenrileyrose and @bbrandy2002 for pre-reading!

Warnings: This will contain NSFW adult language and content. By reading, you acknowledge you are 18 and over.

I’m tagging those I’ve connected with and thought would be interested. Please let me know if you do or don’t want to be tagged!

@burnsoslow @ao719 @kat-tia801 @callmeellabella @charlotteg234 @neotericthemis

Tags: @kingliam2019 @iaminlovewithtrr @amandablink @iluaaa @jared2612 @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @secretaryunpaid

if I missed anybody that requested, please let me know so I can add you! Or if you’d like be added just let me know ☺️

For the first time, the walk to whatever room she’d be meeting Liam in was a complete dread. She hated the feeling of closing the gap between them knowing she had one mission, to save the love of her life with a lie. Her only hope was maybe he was questioning those ridiculous photos and she could maybe use that to ease into their separation. She reached his door and easily walked in. Liam was leaning against the open door frame leading to the balcony of his room, his eyes were glued outside, clearly anticipating Riley’s hopeful arrival.

Riley stood with her backside against the nearly shut bedroom door and closed it loudly gaining his attention. Liam whipped his head in her direction only to be filled with relief and joy at finally getting a chance to be alone with her. He raced across the room and grabbed her, holding her as tightly as he could, and with the easiest smile she’d ever seen on him, he kissed her with all his might. Riley shut her eyes tight and allowed the kiss, returning it with as little as she could, knowing it would be the last.

Liam pressed his forehead to hers, “Thank God you��re here. Riley, I’ve missed you so much. Please.. please forgive me, my love. I... I owe you so much, please give me a chance to make things up to you.”

“Make things up to me? Aren’t you wondering if the scandal is true? Aren’t you... aren’t you going to ask.. if the pictures are real?” Riley knew she was on borrowed time, but she couldn’t yet rip that bandaid, she hated herself, but she couldn’t stop from hearing him out.

“Of course not, I know those photos were a setup, which is why it was the catalyst to everything that happened that night. I’ll regret picking Madeleine for the rest of my life, but I knew in that very second the scandal was released that whoever was behind it would stop at nothing to keep us apart. My focus changed and was completely dedicated to keeping you safe! I had to make it seem like they had won, and that it appeared I severed ties with you. Because then you’d be removed from further harm. This was my only way to keep an upper hand, to make them think they won. God, please know I never wanted to spend a single moment without you... I love you.”

His last statement punched Riley in the stomach. His words, all his words constantly filled her with hope. Hope that if she simply told him the truth, they could fight Constantine together and win. But it was his life on the line, no one else’s, and like he made the sacrifice to choose Madeleine to keep her safe, she also felt like she needed to save him. She had to find a way to ask Liam if his father and his team were actually capable of killing.

“Do.. do you really think I’m in that much danger?”

“Yes.” Liam answered sharply and honestly remembering how someone betrayed his loving mother. “Yes, I do. I never told you what happened to my mother. She was killed, murdered with poison. And not even my father, the king, could discover her killer or even a fucking motive, just that it was an inside job. I can’t let the same fate fall to you. My mother’s death changed my father, that loss snuffed out what little light he had in his heart. It soured him and left him dark. And the worst part is that the powers to be covered it all up. Who knows what this traitor is capable of.”

There it was. Constantine may not have been responsible for his wife’s death, but with this information, Riley knew his blackened heart had been tainted beyond repair. That he truly hated the idea of love and his twisted mind really believed his own son would be better off dead if she didn’t go through with this.

Liam could see the anguish written all over her face, he assumed because of his dark recounting of this mother’s death. “Hey, I know this is, well, less than ideal, but we can still have each other. Madeleine, she knows I don’t love her. She doesn’t know the extent of my ruse, but she knows it’s you that I love. Her offer is to turn a blind eye when it comes to us, as long as she gets to be queen.”

“So, are.. are you going to marry her then, in the end?”

“No! No Love, that’s not my goal at all. I’ll take all measures during this godforsaking tour and stop at nothing to find who’s behind this and clear your name. I’ll find this traitor and bring them to justice. You know, I find that the more that’s taken away from me, the more daring I become.”

Liam had this look of confidence on him, like the ever conquering hero she knew he was. Riley started to panic, she let this conversation go on too long. This had to end, she had to do her part.

“Li-Liam,” she stuttered, fuck this is so hard! She thought to herself. “Maybe you shouldn’t work so hard at uncovering this.. I don’t think it’s worth it to find out, I doubt you really want to know who’s responsible, it’d probably do more harm then good..” fuck I’m revealing too much!

“What are you talking about? We have to do this, we love each other..”

“No!” Riley shuddered a breath in, trying to shift the sound from tears and into a stern aggression. “Liam. No... The truth is.. I don’t love you. Not anymore. Or, well, maybe I was never sure in the first place. Just - you rejected me, got engaged to a horrifying woman, and then allowed me to be abolished and ignored for three weeks. I.. too much damage has been done, and in all that time I realized.. this,” she gestured her hand between them, “this, was never love. So. I don’t love you, Liam.” Riley used all the efforts in her body to pull the lie out, she had to, she’d do anything to save him. “It’s... ok, it’s ok. Really. This is just for the best. You should marry Madeleine and be the king you were destined to be, spare yourself from thoughts of me. Everything will be ok. Goodbye, Liam.”

Liam could barely register words in the wake of his shattering heart. He stretched his arms out to try and grab hold of her, but she swiftly stepped out of reach. He couldn’t believe it. But her step back told him she was serious, and the last thing he’d ever do was force her to do something she seemed so strongly against. “Riley. Love, please...” was all he could muster. But she already had her back to him unable to fight the tears any longer. She stepped to the bedroom door, knowing she could again freely walk out under the blackmail Constantine was holding over her. She took notice of something she wished she had noticed in Applewood and spoke her final words.

“You should probably reevaluate the upper hand you think you have under this ruse.. Look, no lock on the door. Again.” She said trying to signal her only clue that she and he were both being coerced. And with that she gloomily walked out and shut the door behind her.

[imagine-docx]

sneaky.

Summary: Being neighbours with a cute boy has some perks. Also, Sam is being the best wingman (no pun intended) he possibly could. [neighbour!chubby!buckyau]

Warnings: Swearing, and some insecurity mentions and some body shaming.

A/N: Hello, quarantine has me writing again as I am officially done uni for the year. So please enjoy this jumble of different AU’s thrown into one. - Amanda 

➽───────────────❥

You have lived next to James Barnes for the last two and a half years and you guys never really talked, just smiles and nods whenever you see him, and occasionally swapping mail that accidentally went to your respective houses, this was mostly because your schedules conflict but also Bucky didn’t know how to talk to a cute girl but he won't mention that part.

You’ve heard rumours about how he was a serial abuser and other nonsense from the neighbourhood, because honestly Anita from five houses down creates random fantasies she might as well be an author.

He was so used to getting stares and glares for his left prosthetic and round stomach, due to the rumours that were spread around the neighbourhood and he always shied away from contact with anyone in the area. You on the other hand? God literally sent you, so warm and loving. 

He was working on his car one day, while his cat was outside with him. Looks back to see Alpine and doesn’t see his cat, slight panic until he sees that Alpine wasn’t there, but that cat is everywhere so it doesn’t bother him that much.

He heard soft lo-fi music coming from across the fence, indicating that you were outside. He looks over and sees you sitting there, on your computer between papers and notebooks and his cat sitting with you.

To you, Alpine wasn’t much chaos, in fact, a designer, he would randomly paw at something and it clicked with you that the two outfits look good.

“I’m so sorry, my cat is bothering you.” Bucky called out.

“Not at all, he constantly is spending time over here, love him like he’s my own,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for looking out for him,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“Not a problem. You look exhausted, come get some coffee!” You exclaimed, with the brightest smile he’s ever seen, plastered onto your face.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want your reputation to be tainted by having him over for some coffee.

“Come! How do you take your coffee?” you said, trekking back to close all your notebooks because honestly, it's not everyday that your cute neighbour talks to you and work can always wait.

You went inside to make both of you a cup of coffee, his black, and yours with some cream and sugar. You also plated two lemon bars for the two of you, and grabbed a little yogurt from your fridge for Alpine to enjoy. 

“I’m surprised you wanted to be seen with me. Especially with all the rumours, I found everyone believing them.”

“Honestly, half of them came from Anita and she is a whackjob. I’m surprised people listen to her.” You said taking a sip of your coffee.

He laughed, “You would be surprised, people look at me like I killed someone.”

“When I first moved in she told the entire neighbourhood that I got a divorce and needed massive space from my ex husband because I found him cheating with one of his juniors. People actually believed it which makes it worse. For like a year I was getting sympathetic looks for a divorce and relationship that didn’t even happen.” You cut a piece of your lemon bar with your fork.

He laughed, and felt so much more comfortable with you, like he has known you for so long. “My old place caught on fire, and I got trapped, lost m’arm. Girl left me because I had no arm, no place to stay, hit rock bottom, gained a few pounds, and Stark helped me by getting me this arm, even though I work for him and he paid for this place for me.” He said looking down, he felt comfortable enough for you to know what happened, but avoided your look, scared of judgement. 

You reached out for his flesh hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “You’re doing amazing James, don’t listen to what the neighbourhood chatties have to say. That’s why half of their men turn off their hearing aids when they talk.” 

He smiled and you removed your hand, “Bucky.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky. So how did Bucky derive from James, because there is no correlation” you said, shoving the piece of lemon bar into your mouth.

“From my middle name, Buchanan, and I guess it stuck with me since.”

“Wait, you work for Stark Industries?” You said realization dawning on you.

“Yeah…” He said unsurely as if you would kick him off your backyard patio set and never talk to him again. 

“I provide the latest and never seen before suits to Tony Stark!” You laughed.

“Insurrexon?” He asked.

“Yes sir, the one and only fashion director for Insurrexon.” You said.

He laughed, “So you guys are the reason he prances around his office saying his suit is worth more than everyone’s rent.”

“Sounds like a very Tony thing to do, but yes. I am the cause of that.” 

You laughed and spent the remainder of your day talking with Bucky in your backyard while Alpine takes occasional nips at the yogurt left for him.

➽───────────────❥

Since that day, you and Bucky practically became best friends. With your schedule practically all over the place you two were constantly texting to help compensate for the fact you probably saw him for a total of 10 minutes or less a day.

He noticed some days you were coming home super late and noticed the lights in your washroom and bedroom are the only lights that were on when you came home and after that he assumed you fell asleep. He felt bad knowing you didn’t eat and were constantly on the go and eating probably the most unhealthy things possible just to stay alive. So he would drop you off extra portions of whatever he made. 

Or that's what he likes to tell himself. One day on his break he saw the cutest reusable container, it was glass and had little black dresses on it with a hot pink lid, and knew it matched you perfectly. That night he had an extra portion of stir fry and rice leftover in your mailbox with a note saying, ‘make sure you eat something doll’, knowing you would check it before going inside and you would hopefully eat it. 

The next day after the longest shift he possibly could have had, he checked his mailbox and saw the container was back in his mailbox, he frowned thinking that you didn’t eat it. He saw a yellow post-it note attached to the top ‘thanks for looking out for me, btw the stir fry was delicious’ and he smiled, picking up the container he noticed it was quite weighty. He opened it and saw a slice of red velvet cake, keeping the grin on his face, he closed the container, gathered his mail and went inside. 

And that started the entire back and forth exchange of goods.

He would cook dinner for you to enjoy at night when you come home and leave it for you, the next day he got his container back with a form of a baked good.

Everyday on his way home, he was thinking of things to make you to impress you, there were lasagnas, soups with garlic bread, steaks with mashed potatoes, and he always went above and beyond to make it with love for you.

You on the other hand found it so sweet and kept giving him cute little desserts you would bake such as cupcakes, cheesecakes, and cookies, and when you couldn’t bake anything, you would make sure to pick something up on your way home from work.

This clockwork happened almost all the time.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky was in the break room at work with Sam and Steve, and Bucky couldn’t help but gush about how cute he found you.

“Aw Baby Bucky has a crushy wushy on his cute neighbour,” Sam said, reaching for his cheeks to pinch them.

“Knock it off Wilson,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

“Buck, I haven’t seen you this happy since Dot,” Bucky winced at the mention of his ex.

“She seems to like you, and enjoys your company, make a move,” Steve said, nudging his ribs.

“She doesn’t look at me that way,” Bucky muttered.

“Buck, she literally ignores what everyone said and openly hangs out with you, I think she likes you.” Bucky felt a little string of hope when Steve said that, but couldn’t help but feel insecure.

He was 34 years old, slightly overweight and had a prosthetic and was IT director for Stark Industries. You on the other hand were slightly younger than him at 30 years old, but, god took his time creating you, you were beautiful inside and out, had a killer personality and worked as a fashion director for one of the biggest fashion chains in North America. You two were on two different levels and you were nowhere in his league.

“So Buck, when are you gonna cook me dinner?” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not in your lifetime.” Bucky retaliated, feeling a buzz in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and saw it was you and instantly smiled.

“His girlfriend messaged him, that's why he’s all smiley” Sam nudged him once again.

The three of them continued talking until Brock Rumlow, the resident dick and lead prosthetic designer walked in. 

Brock pushed passed Bucky to get something from the cabinets. Brock had an attitude problem with everyone and it was still surprising that he worked at Stark Industries. “James Barnes has a girlfriend? Does she close her eyes when she fucks you? Because you are hideous.”

“Rumlow,” Steve warned.

And that’s when Bucky felt coffee trickle down his skin and the scent of coffee engulfed his nose. “Hope your girlfriend cleans you up, she might as well throw you out.” Rumlow said pushing past him.

“Buck-” Sam started before making a beeline to the mens washroom.

Bucky stood in the mirror and looked at himself, his hair was drenched with coffee, his cream coloured cardigan and white shirt were covered in brown coffee splotches, his pants and shoes got minimal damage. He dunked his head over the sink and tried washing out his hair.

As his head was over the sink, there were tears in his eyes. Of course his neighbour wouldn’t like him, he was weak. He looked in the mirror knowing he would have to sit in his coffee stained outfit for the rest of the day.

“Buck? Stark wants to see you whenever you come out.” Steve said from the other side of the door, giving him some space. 

He managed to murmur out an “okay” knowing Steve’s quality hearing would have heard him. It took him a solid 30 minutes before he made his way to Stark’s office. “You wanted to see me?” Bucky said walking in.

“Ah yes, I heard about the coffee incident in the break room.” Tony said. 

“Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault, it’s Rumlow’s. Also how do you deal with Sam? I heard him screeching from here about how he was gonna, and I quote ‘Brock Rumlow’s shit so hard he wouldn’t have seen it coming.’” 

“A lot of alcohol and tuning him out.” 

“Makes sense.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “Take this, go buy something to wear. Can’t have my top IT director brewing in coffee like he’s a piece of tiramisu.”

“No Stark I can’t take this, you’ve done a lot already.”

“Nonsense. Take Sam and Steve with you, I can’t hear Sam screeching about fighting someone for the rest of the day, that’s gonna be one hell of an HR complaint I’m gonna have to deal with.”

“You got it.”

➽───────────────❥

And that is how Bucky, Sam and Steve spent two hours walking around Brooklyn attempting to find clothes for Bucky. Bucky couldn’t find anything that made him feel right, it was emphasizing his stomach which he didn’t want to show off.

This kept making Bucky smaller, and he didn’t want to be out anymore. Sam kept trying to hype him and Steve was reassuring that he looked fine. But after that altercation in the break room, they understood that he wasn’t in the best mood and just wanted to go back to the office and have this Friday be over. 

➽───────────────❥

You were sitting in a tiny coffee shop called Dream Bean with Wanda and Natalia planning for the next collection that was supposed to drop for Valentine’s Day, the ‘Love Bomb’ collection.

“I’m thinking colours like pastels, reds, pinks, whites.” Wanda said.

“So take Valentine’s Day and throw it into a collection?” Natalia said.

“Pretty much.” You stated.

“Makes sense.” Natalia stated, taking a sip of her iced latte.

“Is this more date night and sexy lingerie?” Wanda asked, working out a sketch in her notebook.

“I mean a lot of people are single on Valentine’s Day, so why not make it a feel good collection.” You stated nonchalantly, sitting back into your chair and taking a sip of your iced coffee.

“Oh, I love having a creative genius,” Wanda exclaimed, brushing her pencil gently across the sketchbook.

“I mean it's a part of my job description,” you laughed, taking a sip out of your iced coffee and looked out the window. You noticed a familiar face. Bucky. Your heart skipped a beat, until you saw that he was drenched in coffee. Your heart hurt for him.

“Hey? Hello? Anyone home?” Natalia waved in front of your face. 

“Oh sorry.”

“You okay?” Wanda asked.

“I just saw my neighbour-”

“Oh the cute one you’re so smitten by?” Nat wiggled her brows. 

“The dinner one! Aw he’s so cute and treats her well.” Wanda said.

“He was covered in coffee and he seemed upset.” You started, wishing you could do something for him. That’s when it clicked with you, “Do we have any samples from the ‘No Guidance’ collection?”

“I think there are copies in my office.”

➽───────────────❥

Bucky got back to work and sat in his chair, and ran his hands over his face. He felt horrible and nothing could make this day better. Rumlow’s words managed to hit deeper than he wanted it too. Usually, Bucky was very dismissive about what Rumlow said, but now that you were a part of his life, it hit deeper.

The elevator dinged, signalling someone was coming up. Secretly he was hoping it was the grim reaper ready to come collect him. “Package for-” He read the package, “James Barnes?” 

“That’s me.” He said not even looking up. When he did, he was greeted by a massive navy blue box with a yellow ribbon tied around it, and saw some white text but couldn’t make out what it said due to the distance. “Thank you.”

He noticed that the box said ‘Insurrexon’ and was confused. That was the company that you worked for. He untied it and was greeted by a white paper with black pen ink staining the paper on top of the red wrapping paper protecting whatever was in the box. 

‘Was in a meeting when I saw you drenched in coffee and wanted to help you out. Hope you like it. Also, can’t have my chef soaking wet, it could get him sick’ and it was signed off with your name. 

His heart burst with awe at the fact she went out of her way to get him clothes so he wasn’t wet. Part of him was embarrassed that she saw him in that state, but the joy overtook that feeling. He took the clothes to the washroom and was going to change.

He worried that he wouldn’t fit in it, but as he slid the items on, it fit. Maybe you did have a good knowledge at measurements and knew what would fit.

He looked himself in the mirror and grinned at the fact she picked an all black outfit with a light washed denim jacket and some black combat boots, he was upset at the fact that she knew how big he was, but was overtaken by happiness as his neighbour, someone he took such an interest in, picked this out, out of the goodness of her own heart.

Once he walked out of the washroom he was whistled at by Sam, “Looking good girl.”

“I thought you didn’t like anything.” Steve stated.

“His lovely girl at Insurrexon sent him stuff,” Sam said, holding up the note with his hands.

“Hey!” Bucky grabbed it. “None of your business.”

“Alright ‘chef’.” Sam mocked.

Bucky reached out to slap Sam’s head. “Hey, hey, hey, no workplace violence!” Steve said, breaking it up. 

➽───────────────❥

It was the end of the day and Bucky had to drop reports back off to Tony. He walked in and gave him all the files that Tony needed. “Is that Insurrexon?”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Look at you go, getting into the big leagues, huh?” Tony punched his shoulder, “Wait, was it on my credit card?” Tony nearly cried out.

“No-”

“Wait, this collection didn’t even come out yet. How did you get this and how much did you spend?” Tony cried out.

“One of my friends work for Insurrexon and sent it to me for free.”

“Was it a lady friend?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky blushed, “IT WAS! But honestly Tinman, you had a long day. Go home, get some rest, spend some time with your girl. I’ll see you Monday.” Tony said shooing Bucky out of his office. 

➽───────────────❥

Upon reaching home, Bucky realized how expensive the brand truly was, and the amount of hype behind it. He also realized that Tony wasn’t lying and this was a collection that didn’t even come out yet, yet you still gave him a copy of it. He paced around his living room, even though his paycheque said he made quite the amount of money, the worth of this collection laughed at that amount. He couldn’t possibly pay it back. He was running through scenarios on how to bring it up and pay her back. He finally looked back at the clothing that he folded and put into a bag to return, and saw Alpine looking up at him, “What should I do, bud?” Alpine just meowed back at him before leaving and returning to wherever he was.

It was close to eight pm when he noticed that you came back home. Your car was in your driveway, and your living room light was on. He had to pump himself up before walking over to your door, he knocked on it three times before you opened it.

You looked even more beautiful, and he didn’t even know it was possible. There you were, makeup free, hair dampened signalling you showered, a pair of black shorts, and an oversized grey NASA shirt. He noticed you were on the phone and mouthed, “I’ll come back later.” He turned around and was about to walk off. 

That’s when you grabbed his flesh wrist and pulled him inside. Closing the door behind him, he kicked off his shoes and admired your living room. He was unsure if he should sit, he looked at you as you were talking to whoever it was. You looked back at him, and signalled for him to sit down. He cautiously sat on your couch. Pen in your hand, you wrote on the post-it note.

“That’s just gonna delay ‘FIVE’ and we’re going to have to push back ‘Love Bomb’ which will have to be scrapped until next year,” you said running your hand through your hair.

Whoever was on the other line said something, you sighed, “It’s a Friday night, I can’t worry about this. Send out an email scheduling an interview on Tuesday for all the directors of different divisions.”

He admired you, even in comfortable clothes, you were a business woman strategizing ways to not prevent any delays. “Yeah, so me, Nat, Wanda, Okoye, Nebula, Val, Carole and Erik.” You wrote it down on your little post-it note, “Alright, thanks Gamora. Have a good weekend.” You said before hanging up. 

You turned around being greeted by Bucky sitting there, “Hi,” he said letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Hi there. Sorry about that, work has my ass on a platter right now,” you said, chuckling, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he looked down and remembered why he came, “You didn’t have to do what you did.”

“And what was it I did?” You asked ridding your dining room table of the computer and a few sheets of paper that were littered across the table.

“Give me clothes.” He responded watching your movements.

“Bucky, it’s not a problem. You looked upset and I wanted to help you,” and after those words left your mouth, his heart nearly exploded into tiny pieces.

“I can’t possibly pay you back for this. Even Tony said it was too expensive.” Bucky said rambling. 

“Bucky, do not worry about it. You don’t have to pay me back,” you said gently.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“If you want to do something, hang out with me,” you said.

“Pardon?”

“We could order dinner? Dessert? Mario Kart? I am open to criticism.” You said jokingly.

“I’d like that,” Bucky said grinning from ear to ear.

“Alright soldier, what are you craving?”

“Pizza?” He said.

“Alright.” 

➽───────────────❥

Of course it was a Friday night and your favourite pizza joint had an hour wait time before they could make your order, and don’t forget the 30 minute delivery window. And honestly, you both didn’t mind and enjoyed each other’s company. Yet here you were sitting on your couch playing Mario Kart together. “I fell off again,” he grumbled at rainbow road.

“Hah- oh no,” you said, getting blue-shelled.

“I just fell off, how can I possibly fall off again?” He exclaimed.

“No no no, don’t red shell me.” You said, rushing to the finish line. The moment you crossed it, ‘FINISH’ flashed across the screen. 

Bucky got up at the sound of the knock on the door, “Pizza’s here.”

“Oh, use my card to pay!” You said going to get your wallet from your bag.

“No Doll, I owe you,” he went to the door.

You stood hovered over your bag due to your cheeks burning from him calling you ‘Doll’. You went to the kitchen and grabbed two plates, and two cups getting ready to set the table. Bucky joined you in the dining room with the extra large pepperoni pizza, wings and soda. 

For some reason, to the both of you, this felt right. Like this is something that you two should be constantly doing. You two were laughing at childhood stories, work stories and other funny things that have happened to you two. He helped you clean up the table and wrap up the extras. 

You took out two pieces of plum cobbler and warmed it up, “Ice cream?” you asked.

“Do you have?” Bucky asked.

“What kind of girl would I be if I didn’t have any?” You joked.

“You have a point,” he laughed.

You two were back at the dining room table. Bucky let out a heavenly groan as he took a bite of the plum cobbler, “I love plum so much, and this tastes amazing.”

“Plum is that fruit that you can always enjoy,” you said, taking a bite of your own.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where do you get these desserts? They’re amazing,” he said, taking another bite.

You sheepishly said, “I bake the majority of them.”

“They’re amazing, doll. Maybe you should get out of the fashion industry and get into baking.” He joked.

“I don’t know about that part,” you chuckled, “Wanda and Nat might have my head on a stick if I leave.”

“You guys are that close?” Bucky asked.

“Practically attached by the hip. We met in freshman year of college because of this stupid textile course. Here we are ten years later, in the same company. What about you? Any close friends that are work friends but would also commit manslaughter if you left the company?”

He laughed at the comment, “I have Steve, him and I have been friends since childhood and he kept getting beat up in alleys and I had to save him. Then there’s Sam, the drama queen. Him and I met through Steve.”

You nodded your head, signalling you understood. “I don’t want to intrude, but what happened today? Why was there coffee all over you?”

He shifted in his seat, “Oh, uh.”

“You don’t have to answer. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m feeling much better now, sugar,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving a gentle squeeze with his flesh hand. 

“That’s all that matters,” You said squeezing back

The two of you continued eating your dessert in harmony, occasionally making jokes.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky didn’t want to go, but it was nearly 1:30 am and he should probably let you sleep. He was strategically trying to leave the clothes on your couch without you noticing, which obviously failed.

You leaned against your door with one bag containing the clothes you gave him and the other containing leftovers and a good portion of the plum cobbler he seemed to enjoy. “Goodnight,” he said, prior to trying to walk off your porch. 

“Wait, Bucky?” You asked.

He turned around, “Yes sugar?” 

You hugged him, at first he couldn’t believe it, but knew this possibly wouldn’t happen again and hugged back. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime doll,” he was so ecstatic, he didn’t notice that you slipped the two bags into his hands. 

“See you around?” You asked, sheepishly.

“Of course.”

You let out a smile, “Night Bucky,” before the door closed.

He smiled, before realizing she slipped him food and the clothes. He shook his head and trekked his way home.

➽───────────────❥

Over the next 2 weeks, you and Bucky got so much more closer. He came to Insurrexon when she was in and could take breaks. Other than that you tried to meet up at random diners, restaurants, bakeries, wherever was convenient to the both of you.

➽───────────────❥

It was a Friday afternoon and Bucky was irritated, Brock was making sly comments about him knowing that Bucky heard it. And on several occasions, Steve had to hold back Sam from swinging and Sam stating that, “Rumlow isn’t ready for this smoke.”

Bucky sat at his desk looking over the file Tony gave him this morning and making notes in the margin for him and Bruce to look over once Monday hit. He felt someone’s presence next to him, “Brock I don’t wanna deal with this right now,” he mumbled out, not even looking up.

“Brock? From Pokémon? I always thought I was more of a Rosa from Black and White two,” you joked.

Once he heard the familiar voice, his head snapped up and grinned, leaning back into his chair, “Thought you were more of a May from Sapphire.”

You laughed, “Is that my favourite fashion director from Insurrexon?” Tony called out.

“Of course it is,” you turned to Tony, smiled and pushed back your hair.

“Are you bringing me some new designs? Or are you terrorizing my IT director?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I prefer the second one.”

Bucky enjoyed the banter between you and Tony, “Then you are banished from my company.”

“Before you banish me, can you at least let me steal your IT director for an hour for coffee? I will bring him back in perfect condition.” You pleaded.

Tony pretended to think, “Fine, I’ll give you an hour and fifteen, but I want him back in mint condition.”

You said, “Scouts honour.”

Bucky got up and stretched his knees, “If anything comes up, let Sam deal with it until I get back.”

“I would rather not, I’ll pass it off to Banner and hopefully he doesn’t rage out.” Tony joked.

“See you at the Rocket fashion show in a few weeks?” You asked Tony.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll bring Tinman with me,” he joked.

“Doll, meet me at the elevator? I want to pass my file to Banner before I leave.” Bucky asked.

“Of course. Bye Tony,” you said before walking back to the elevator you just rode up.

Bucky grabbed the file off the desk, “So this is the girl who has my Bucky Barnes smitten?” Tony said, examining his movement. 

He blushed and stuttered, “N-no, where did you get that from?”

“Buck, you literally called her doll, and the way you look at her says otherwise,” Tony said, “Don’t let her slip out of her fingers, she is a wonderful person and I can tell that she genuinely likes you back,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “It’s on me, now go get your girl.”

“Thanks Tony,” Bucky murmured out.

“Don’t worry Buck, now I will pass this on to the big guy,” Tony spoke, taking the file out of his hand.

Bucky met you at the elevator, you were leaning against the wall on your phone waiting for him. He finally took in how gorgeous you looked today. A quarter sleeve baby blue button up that was fashionably tucked into the high waisted dark blue skinny jeans, some black heels and rose gold jewelry to accent it all. “You ready Doll?”

“Been ready, let’s get some coffee. You look like you need it.” You said.

He smiled and pressed the button for down, you two were laughing and Bucky’s face dropped when the elevator doors opened. Rumlow. He got in, and you could feel the tension. You grabbed his hand and reassuringly squeezed it and kept your fingers interlocked.

Earlier when you were walking in the building, you ran into Steve and Sam by accident who were coming in from their ‘afternoon stroll’ and Sam went off and told you everything about Rumlow. “You know you don’t deserve someone like Chubs over there, why don’t you get with me instead, I’ll show you a good time.” Rumlow said.

“And you don’t deserve a job here, I can’t wait to go to Tony and let him know there’s a harassment claim against one of his employees. He wouldn’t like to hear that his favourite company can’t be providing him fashion anymore because of a harassment claim, would he now?” You gritted.

“Bitch,” Rumlow muttered before getting off.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky said, trying to let go of your hand.

You kept a grip on his hand, “I don’t have to, but I do. You don’t deserve any of that.” “So where do we wanna go?” Bucky said. 

“Up to you,” you smiled at him.

“Well, we are going somewhere expensive because Tony gave me his card,” he chuckled.

You laughed, “Can’t wait.”

➽───────────────❥

You stuck out your tongue, turned back around and walked in the direction of your home.

You and Bucky enjoyed your time at the cafe. He ordered a large black coffee and a plum tart, you ordered a large iced coffee and a rainbow bit cake. His hour was up and you were walking him back to Stark Industries. Your left hand in his right hand, everything about this seems normal.

You two laughed in harmony. You turned towards him, “I’m done for the rest of the day. Movie tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.”

Bucky was about to walk off, before you called out, “Hey Bucky?”

He turned back, “Yeah doll?”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer to you. You planted a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened, upon realization, he kissed you back.

You pulled away, “I promised Tony his IT director back, I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

He kissed your knuckles, “I can’t wait.”

You were walking away, but turned back. “Also, don’t kill Sam. He told me everything.”

He blushed then realization hit him as to what you just said and let out a loud groan, “You two are the sneakiest.”

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 18

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

NOTE: Third Person POV starts after this sign: " ✪ "

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

With Bucky, three short days felt like three months.

The next few days were spent oh-so-blisfully slow with Bucky constantly next to you, either naked or clothed. You were always at each other's skin and flesh the second you would close your laptop (you have been busy doing your end of the presentation you had to pitch in next week for Sam, after Steve gets you formally and officially fired). You’d be making out on the couch and soon afterwards, clothes flew around like money being tossed carelessly. No matter what the situation was, it always ended up with you naked, grasping each other's bodies, grazing each other's skin — in your bedroom, in the kitchen, in the shower, and on the living room floor. He wore you like a necklace, your thighs wrapped around his neck as you sat on the kitchen counter, him on his knees, devouring every bit of you. That time, you tried your best to stare at him as he ate you.

Tantalizing were his eyes, his mouth moving against your core. Legs shaking, you’d scream his name over and over again as you came all over his mouth, your screams clashing with the sounds of pots clanging against each other.

Then, you’d move to the shower where you had your thighs wrapped around his waist, your bare back against the bathroom's slippery walls as he thrusted inside you. His strong hands kept you steady the whole time as your legs trembled around him, making you weaker and weaker each second, like your knees had been struck by a wrecking ball.

He gave and he gave and he gave pleasure, riding you into your euphoria, into your oblivion. You were no longer the master of your body. You became his, as he was yours. You submitted fully to his godly control. The phrases "fuck, babydoll" and "you feel so fucking good" and "say my name, sweetheart" were forever etched in your brain. You kept the frustration of not being in control to yourself. You kept it all as he instructed you to say his name, say it louder until you could no longer remember yours, until you could no longer hear the dripping noise of the water droplets against the floor.

His face, the epitome of a god and a devil. A god that brought your voice and soul to heaven, so bright and glorious. And a devil that brought unholy things to your body.

As much as you had your thighs wrapped around him, you knew he had you wrapped around his finger. You knew it all too well.

Since then, you couldn't hear the clinking of utensils against each other or the faucet leaking or any kind of liquid dripping without seeing what Bucky looked like during those hours — knees on the ground, head between your thighs, body dripping with water along with your juices. And how he made you feel. God, the thought of him alone already brought you to heaven.

Afraid that you won't be able to get your mind (and body) off of Bucky, you texted Nat to meet you in a coffee shop a few blocks away from the apartment, hoping she could accompany you while working on the pitch deck. If you spent one more time with Bucky with your presentation undone you would be — well... Either way, you would be screwed.

This morning, you left a note on the nightstand, letting Bucky know you were with Nat. You planted a fleeting kiss on his forehead one last time, smiling at him, hating to leave his side, before heading out to meet with Nat who was almost an hour late, anyway. Still, you didn't get much done, missing Bucky's presence.

Then the hopes of getting your mind off my man went down the drain, hearing the clinking of glasses and the dripping liquid from espresso machines on the café counter. You bit your lip, staring at the laptop screen in front. Your screams echoed on the walls of your brain, together with morphed images of you and Bucky leaving your traces everywhere in the apartment, tainting lust everywhere. You bit your lower lip harder. A sudden rush of heat climbing on your body, from your toes, to your thighs, and your center.

Why didn't I just go to the public library?

"... Y/n? Hello? Earth to y/n?"

The images vanished like dust in the wind, and were replaced by Nat snapping her fingers on your face. Bucky's voice, together with yours that were echoing in your mind soon became faint street noise, along with the café's playlist. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

With your throat dry, you cleared your throat (which hurt even more). "Y-yeah." You finally managed to say. "Yeah, no, I was just having a tiny problem. You know what, I'm thirsty," You tapped a waitress' shoulder, "Hi, can I please have a glass of cold water? Thank you."

With that, she nodded and turned around, fetching what you needed. As soon as she handed you the glass, you immediately downed the whole thing but it still didn't quench your thirst.

"Is he riding you?"

You nearly choked on your water, hearing Nat's question. "W-what?"

"Sam Wilson. I mean, the work. With Sam?" Nat frowned, stirring her cup of coffee. "Is he?"

"Oh no, not at all! He's been really great and very appreciative." You replied. "But he has this assistant who's a complete total bitch. Even Bucky doesn't like her."

"Oohhh, interesting." she said. "Tell me all about it."

Thankfully, telling Nat about the meeting that happened three days ago did get your mind off Bucky. Highlighting the little banter you and Sharon had in line with the models and the whole marketing strategy was Nat's favorite. Of course, Nat lived for the drama. Especially if it were others'. To her, you were just characters on a television show. Now, all she needed was a bucket of popcorn.

"You should've seen the whole thing, Nat." You smirked. "The look on her face when Sam agreed with me? Priceless!"

"Wow, you ate her up." Nat chuckled. "Now, I'm sad I missed the show. If I were there, I would've taken a photo of her disappointed, sad ass and had it framed and had it hung on the bar. Steve would approve of it."

You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head. Even though that was pretty badass of you to do, Sharon was a woman living in a man's world and as you thought about that encounter, she was just doing her job. If she were a man, you would've still said the same thing. "Too harsh. A little cheer would suffice."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Like a woop, woop?"

"I mean not literally but sure. Whatever floats your little boat."

"Peter was right. You're a boring old hag." A sip of coffee. "Hey, how's the little skipper, anyway? I miss that little kid."

You fowned. She always had a nickname for Peter. If it's not skipper, it's slugger, or sport, or tiger, or any nickname for a kid you could think of. "You know he's just as young as I am, right?"

"The guy looks like a kid and sometimes acts like one." Nat pursed her lips, pointing it out. "So, when's he getting back from his corporate retreat?"

The last you heard from Peter was yesterday when he sent photos of him and the rest of his team somewhere by the lake. He looked a bit worn-out by the deep bags under his eyes but his wide smile said otherwise. Winston Schimdt was with him in all the photos, hair still perfectly gelled, spiking up in one direction. You wondered how much gel he always had to consume. And then felt sad for his sticky hair.

"Some time on Tuesday, I think." Then, you showed the photos to Nat who carelessly took the phone from your hands.

"Where on earth is this?"

You shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I couldn't even pin his location. It seems like he's literally off the radar."

"Maybe he's in a galaxy far, far away." Nat joked, remembering Peter's fondness for Star Wars. "What do you even do on a corporate retreat? Think about money?"

"I don't know but whatever it is, he says it'll help keep his mind off things." You said, leaving out the part that Peter was, dare you say, "lovesick." You honestly didn't mind telling it to her but you just knew that she'd ask you a bunch of questions you don't even know the answers to.

Nat nodded while scrolling mindlessly on your phone like it was her own. You tried to get it back but she gripped it tighter.

"Hope Bucky's taking care of you? Oh," she lifted her eyes back to yours, the light on your screen illuminating her smirking face, "he's taking care of you, alright. I heard you two haven't been able to keep your hands off each other. You're like... leeches."

"Ew. Think of another metaphor." You scrunched your nose up, cringing.

Nat took it way too seriously, thinking off into the far distance. "Barnacles on a boat?"

"No."

"Sorry, that's all I can think of."

You chuckled. "Where did you hear that, anyway?"

"I didn't."

"So, how did you — "

"Remember how you found out about me and Steve?" She cut you off.

You hid your face on your palms as soon as the realization dawned on you. "Oh no."

"Oh yes." She took another sip of her hot coffee, her eyes fixed on you. "Babydoll, you've been wearing him like a damn perfume since day one and you love it."

And just when you thought you had kept Bucky away from your mind, there he was again, slithering his way back. The images flashed back, like a montage in a romance film — however cliche that sounded.

"Well, I don't not love it." You shied away, looking down on your shoes which still had a tiny bit of mud from your previous running sessions.

"So, you two are dating now?"

You sheepishly nodded your head, avoiding her stare. You told her about that same day you had your meeting: Sam's confrontation and the conversation you and Bucky had that night. As much as you didn't want to put a label on things, and as much as you hated the god-awful "talk", you fat did it anyway, under the stars as you lied on your backs in that little tent of yours.

"Sometimes, I think," Bucky traced the stars in the pitch-black skies with his finger, "that the stars aligned for us." He finished by poking your nose which elicited a giggle from you. A weird sound you only used with Bucky, and for Bucky.

You turned around and wrapped your arm around his torso. "You're getting cheesier and cheesier each day, Mr. Barnes."

"You bring it out of me, doll." He chuckled.

"Hey, why do you call me doll?" You asked in a whisper. "I'm sure as hell do not look like one."

He looked at you and traced your jaw with his finger, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. "Dolls are sweet yet fun to play with. Remember when I made you that drink? You said it tasted fruity and minty — "

"Fruity and minty." You laughed, reminiscing.

"And I've never played with quite a doll before." Then, he met your eyes. "Then, you happened."

"When you say play, not like, playing with my feelings, right? 'Cause you know this doll can punch, James. I won't hesitate."

"Don't worry, y/n." he kissed the tip of your nose.

The word "dating" wasn't explicit at that moment, but you didn't need to, anyway. All you needed to hear from him was the next words he uttered:

"I won't give you any reason to."

"What have you guys been doing when you're not having sex, anyway?"

"Nat." You scolded but answered anyway. "We watch movies."

"Boring."

"Oh, you know what's a good movie?" You asked, ignoring Nat's little comment. "The Grand Budapest Hotel."

"It's Budapesht."

You tilted your head to the side, frowning. "I'm pretty sure it's Budapest. 'Cause y'know, Budapest is the Budabest."

"No. Budapesht." She insisted.

"Budapesht is the Budabesht?" She nodded. "Yeah, that doesn't sit right with me. I'm gonna stick with Budapest."

"Anyway... will you tell Peter about you two when he gets back from... wherever the hell he is?"

"Well, yeah of course. It's Parker." You replied, chewing your inner cheek. "But not right away." Bucky's words echoed in yours.

"Oh, you're gonna butter him up." Nat chuckled, finishing her cup of coffee. "I know how. Give him free drinks for life."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't 'cause last night was my last shift at the bar." You smiled proudly, thinking back to the last drink you ever made last night. Everyone was there to witness it — except Sam. When you sent the photos to Peter, you were bombarded with a series of questions that you promised to answer once he gets back.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Nat suddenly exclaimed, catching other people's attention, clearly annoyed with her. She stifled a giggle, looking away from them. "That reminds me." She said it quietly this time. "We're throwing you a little party tonight. Steve's idea."

"Like a surprise party?"

"Well, it's not a surprise anymore 'cause I blabbed. So, act surprised when you get there and finish up your presentation."

You posed no further questions, the idea of a surprise party warming your heart. You just smiled at Nat, and got back to the laptop screen. "Yes, ma'am."

Later that night, you did as you were instructed to do as you opened the door to the bar: act surprised. "Oh my god, you guys!" You exclaimed, putting on a wide smile on your face. The small party might have been a surprise but the decorations put up wasn't. Hanging from the ceiling on multiple threads were your photos which used to be on the walls.

Every single one of them.

Below were everyone waiting —Nat, Steve, Nick, Bucky and even Sam — and watching your reaction as you adored the whole set-up. Steve was the first one to approach you, enveloping you in a hug.

"Oh my god, Steve." You muttered, hugging him back.

"Surprised?"

"Not really." You pulled away. "A pretty little number may have told me." you said, looking over at Nat who already had a beer in her hand. She acknowledged you by winking.

"Natasha." Steve sighed, also looking at Nat. Caught, she turned around and took a big gulp of her beer.

You began to walk towards the little group; an odd combination of people, you might as well add. "This is amazing, Steve."

"The whole party was my idea but these photos?" He said, pushing you carefully towards Bucky's direction who took delight in your expression. "Was your man's."

You walked towards Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, you."

"Hey, doll." He greeted, kissing your cheek. "Like the place?"

"Are you kidding me? I love it!" With your arm still around his neck, you admired the photos hanging from the ceiling once more. Bucky let you go, greeting the others as well.

Nick engulfed you in a hug, and whispered. "If he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."

You chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Nick, you can't even hurt a fly. But thanks, anyway. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"You better." He said. “We actually got acquainted while we were decorating the place. He's a good man, y/n. It's a good thing you didn't go out with me."

"If you want, I'll set you up with Parker." You joked.

"Ha-ha, you're a very funny girl."

With all the tables drawn towards one side of the bar, a big space on the center was in view, perfect for dancing or any kind of performance you could possibly think of. You all went towards one of the largest booths that could accommodate all of you. On the table were a bunch of American food — wings, fries, burger, you name it. And of course, cold beer.

While eating and finishing your first bottle of beer, you asked the group to settle a tiny debate, which Nat didn't like.

"It's Budapesht!" Nat exclaimed, insistent. A crack on her voice was evident.

"Budapest!" Nick boomed, downing his first bottle. "Don't you know how to spell? It's clearly Budapest!"

"I told you, it's not Budapesht! Budapesht is not the Budabest. Budapest is!" You argued with Nat, high-giving Nick. "Team Budapest for the win!"

"Take it easy there, honey." Bucky chuckled, grabbing you by the waist.

"Budapesht!"

"Budapest!" You and Nick exclaimed.

"I'm Russian, it's Budapesht!"

"Bup-bup-bup-bup." Sam butted in, one elbow on the table, a finger pointing up the ceiling. "If there's a swarm of termites in my house, do I call the pest control, or the pesht control?"

"Ha! Budapest wins!" You yelled which annoyed Nat to no end. She threw a stick of fries to your face. "Hey!"

"Come to Russia." She said in an accent. "I dare you."

You all broke out in a laugh.

After eating most of the food, Steve stood up, retrieving something from the back of the bar. When he came out, a big karaoke machine was wheeled in. "Rented this baby for a special occasion." Steve said proudly, slapping the top of the karaoke machine. On his other hand was "Who wants to go first?"

"Hell yeah, I'd go first!" Sam shouted.

You couldn't even begin to describe the first few hours of that night. Sam and Nick were the most wasted among all of us, quickly developing a weird friendship. They hogged the karaoke machine the most, singing duets, singing a LOT of Adele, and Lady Gaga. At one point, Sam even sang a Taylor Swift classic, We are Never Ever Getting Back Together, and made a weird "weeee" sound while singing the song which cracked you all up. Steve sang an old mellow song. Nat sang American Pie, her raspy voice blending all too well with the melody. The only people left who haven't got a chance to sing and dance on the floor were you and Bucky.

"Come on, you lovebirds!" Sam groaned, shoving the songbook in front of your faces.

The others joined in a chant, finally convincing you and Bucky. You stood up, hand in hand, and approached the machine. "Wait, before we start," Bucky said, holding up a bottle of beer, "let me raise a toast to the girl I like most — "

"Oh, Bucky."

"To y/n!" He said your name proudly, raising his bottle. The others did as well, saying your name.

"And to Steve!" You raised your own. "For having the guts to fire me."

"To Steve!"

"And to you," you turned towards Bucky, "for believing in me."

"Oh, cut the crap already!" Nat shouted, cupping her mouth with her hands. "Sing, bitches!"

And on cue, Bucky punched in some numbers. A familiar melody came out, which made you shake your head at Bucky. "Oh god no."

"You love this song!" Bucky said.

"No, you love this song!"

He started to sing the first verses and when he almost came to the chorus, he offered his hand. "Come on, doll. Sing it with me... Now, I've got you in my sights. With these..."

"Hungry eyes!" You finally gave him, letting him pull you towards his body so you can share the microphone.

"One look at you and I can't disguise!"

"I've got hungry eyes. I feel the magic between you and I!"

"I feel the magic between you and I!"

You continued to sing, your backs facing the door. Suddenly, another voice chimed in, making you and Bucky turn around.

"Hey, guys!" Peter closed the door behind him, dropping his bags on the floor. "What did I miss?"

✪

On a high-rise building in the Upper East Side, Tony Stark of Stark Industries sat on his office chair, looking over the never-sleeping New York City. He watched the cars and people go by, like watching ants do their work in an ant-farm. So tiny. He thought, happily sitting on his empire he had been building for decades. He watched in amusement as more and more car lights appeared. The hues of red and yellow looked like teeny little dots in his view, which reminded him of stars, making himself the glimmering moon which stood high up on the skies, unreachable yet adored by the many.

A knock on the door interrupted his high. "Come in." Tony said.

A tall figure walked in, with legs that could go for miles and with hair as golden as the sun. "Sir." He spoke.

Tony didn't turn around in his chair, rather he looked at the tall glass windows in front of him. The city lights became blurry. All Tony could see now was his reflection staring back at him, and Jarvis'. He glanced at Jarvis on his right, then back at his own. "Jarvis." He acknowledged. "You have something for me, I believe."

"Yes, sir." Jarvis replied, the English accent heavy on his tone. "But I'm afraid you're not going to like it."

A frown started to form on Tony's face. "James?"

"Yes, sir." The tall blonde replied.

Bucky had been missing quite some appointments with potential partners and investors. Not that he did most of the work, anyway. He would sit in on meetings on end, letting his assistant or Leonard, his concierge, deal with the negotiations. In the end, Bucky gets most of the profit "running" the hotel. He was merely a figure, a presence needed for signatures on piles of papers. But he would know if he was being undermined, if he was being scammed. He knew how to handle business but he just chooses not to. No one knew this, of course, not even Peter; except the parties involved on Bucky's side and Tony Stark. Tony lets it slide, only because the White Wolf had been improving the past years but God did he hate that name.

"I gave you that hotel and no way in hell are you changing the name." Tony sternly said. They were eating dinner at a fancy restaurant in the Upper East Side.

Bucky's treat to butter him up for his good news. Well, good news for Bucky but not so much for Tony.

"I knew you'd say that." Bucky replied. "That's why I went ahead and scrapped the old name and changed it into something new while the renovation was happening."

"Oh, James." Tony sighed, his knife stopping midway through the juicy steak. "What's the name?"

"White Wolf."

"Oh for fuck's sakes."

"Mr. Stark?" Jarvis repeated for the third time, finally grabbing Tony's attention.

"Sorry." He replied. "So, what is it? What did you find?"

"Mr. Barnes has been seeing a girl."

Tony rolled his eyes and finally turned around in his chair, looking at Jarvis. "He's always seeing girls."

"I'm afraid it's different this time, sir. It's why he's been missing a lot of meetings lately. And it's just not a girl." He said.

"Apparently, she's Peter's best friend."

"Huh, that's a twist. Around Peter's age?"

"Yes."

"That is new."

"But that's not all, sir. I'm afraid James is getting acquainted with Mr. Rogers once more."

Tony's body stiffened. Eyes unblinking. "Rogers? Steve Rogers? Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent. This girl James has been seeing is an employee of Mr. Rogers. Some kind of bar underneath an apartment building on the Upper West Side."

Tony frowned. "I thought Rogers had been taken care of."

"He was, sir. This was just some... big coincidence."

"It's a big mistake." He spoke. "I need you to keep an eye on James and pull out Rogers' files. Find anything — everything you can about this new life of his."

"Understood, sir. How about the girl?"

Tony frowned, not seeing anything wrong with it. "I won't worry about it too much. If he falls in love, then that's good." His eyes flickered to the photo of Peter's mom who passed away years ago. "I mean, I did before."

"Alright, sir. I'll be heading out now."

He nodded, watching Jarvis walk away from him. "Jarvis."

Jarvis stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his boss once more. "James can never know, Vis. He can never know."

[justcallmenikki7]

Love at first Sight

BTS!Twilight!Au & Supernatural!Au

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Trying to be a good college student, you decide to study with your best friend in the universities library. But all it takes is one look at the bunny like boy to find your soulmate. 

Warnings: FLUUUF, Jungkook trying to be patient with you but all he wants is for you to accept him and the imprint bond, angst, minor character death, Werewolf!Jungkook, BTS in general, reader nervous and trying to decide what’s right

W.C.: 4k

Notes: So, I have had this in my drafts for so long, and I was wanting to stick with the headcanons, but I was wanting to get this out so badly so I am doing just that. I will have Jungkook’s HC posted soon!!

Ever since you met Lisa Manoban at the age of sixteen, you entered the world of the supernatural. At first, you had no clue about the supernatural, even though you were friends with a vampire for a year, Lisa had kept her identity hidden from you. You were oblivious, never catching onto how she would stay up all night, not once being tired, how she was constantly cold, and how she had talked about history as if she lived in it. In your defense, you believed that she was a huge history geek.

But that was all washed away when you walked in on her sucking blood from a human. Looking back on it, the both of you laugh about the situation. But in that moment, you believed that you were somehow drugged on your way to her house. In honesty, you were very calm about the whole situation, minus the dead body on the ground fifteen feet away from you.

Two years later, you believe that you are a genius when it comes to the supernatural. Having a best friend who is a three-hundred-year-old vampire who has told you everything about the supernatural world is cool. Learning about demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and even Gods is handy.

“Why can’t the dogs stay outside where they belong?” Your best friend, Lisa, groaned.

“Why are you even breathing? You don’t need to breathe,” you commented, not looking up from your textbook.

“Because I enjoy the smell of old books, but the dogs are tainting it with their wet dog smell,” she countered back, knowing that the werewolves themselves can hear her. A growl ripping through the air was a tell-tale sign that they did, only to be answered by a smirk from Lisa.

Lisa, in short, can be considered as a sadistic person because she loved messing with people, especially the wolves. You knew that she could defend herself, being alive for 300 years has given here plenty of experience to take care of herself.

“Can you stop tormenting the wolves and help me study?” You asked, looking up at her.

Pouting, “I guess.”

Movement from the other side of the room caught your attention. Looking over, your eyes were met with a pair of doe like eyes. That was when you felt like everything was put together – as if you found the one thing that you have been searching for your entire life.

“Oh, hell no,” you heard Lisa protest, standing up, collecting both of yours books, shaking you out of your trance.

The sound of a primal, possessive growl cut through the air, making a shiver of familiarity and want go down your spine. But then you also wanted to calm down them and make sure that they are okay.

“What’s going on? Why are we leaving?”

Before your questions could be answered, you felt a warm presence behind you. All you wanted to do was fall back into them, to be able to soak up their warmth and hide away in what you would consider to be home.

“Back away from my mate, blood sucker.” The person behind you demanded, leaving no room for questions.

“Blood sucker? Oh, that’s fucking rich.” Lisa gave out a sarcastic laugh, stepping around the table to get closer to the wolf that you have yet to put a name too.

Turning around, you were met with the one and only, Jeon Jungkook. You were at first confused on why he was so close to you, and even associating with you guys. But once his eyes met yours, you put the pieces together.

You are Jeon Jungkook’s imprint.

Lisa has told you stories about how only a select group of supernatural creatures have an imprint. She told you about how since the beginning of time, werewolves had a mate for life, or imprint, given to them. If that werewolf was rejected, then they were to become physically, mentally, and emotionally empty because they have lost their other half. In some rare cases, they die from depression. Nothing, no one, could heal them and bring them back to normal. They literally cannot move on.

“That is why I am very happy that vampires do not have an imprint because I’d rather die than be rejected by the one person I am made for,” Lisa admitted.

That is why he called you his mate, you added.

That is why you were in that trance.

Oh shit. Mentally you are face palming yourself for being slow.

Standing up from your chair, you stepped in between the two angry supernatural beings.

“Hold on,” you began.

“There’s no holding on. He just called me a fucking blood sucker.” Lisa practically screamed, hating that title.

“Lisa,” you said calmly, knowing how to handle her. “Go wait for me outside and we can go back to my place and study, okay?”

“You’re not going with her.” Jungkook jumped in, stepping closer to you.

Turning towards him, eyes narrowed. “And you do not have the ability, or say, or right, to tell me what I can and cannot do.” Your voice was stern, showing where you draw the line. Even though the look of hurt and defeat on his face made your heart clench sadly, you were not going to allow yourself to be in a position where you were bossed around.

“But she’s dangerous,” Jungkook tried to reason, desperateness evident his voice, both his inner wolf and him dreading the thought of you leaving with the vampire girl.

A scoff from Lisa confirmed that she did not go outside like you asked her too. “And you’re not?”

“She’s my imprint,” Jungkook growled, eyes turning to an almost charcoal black, hands shaking from anger.

Not knowing what to do, you stepped closer to Jungkook. Your actions seemed to have calmed him down slightly, and you could see movement behind him, alerting you that he has his pack behind him. “I know that I am your imprint, but that does not mean that you can tell me what I can and cannot do. I am going to leave with Lisa and that is final.”

Your words seemed to have broken him, and you could understand why because of how rejecting it sounded.

“You’re rejecting me?” He choked out, voice cracking and he looked so torn. The sight breaking your heart, something inside of you feels like it has died.

“No, but I need time to process this.” Your confirmation relaxed him and you, along with his pack who let out a breath that they have been holding this whole time.

Nodding his head reluctantly, he stepped away from you, something similar to a whine of sadness coming from his throat. Never has Jeon Jungkook felt so small in his life.

Giving him a sad smile, “Just give me time, please.” 

“Okay, I can do that.”

*****************************************************************************

You have to admit, Jungkook does not give up.

He has allowed you time to think about it, but you did not realize how many classes you had with him. Jungkook and his friends were rumored to be a gang called BTS, Kim Namjoon being the supposed leader. And they were not the only ‘gang’ to be at the university. There was ‘GOT7,’ ‘Seventeen’ and even ‘NCT,’ which so happened to be friends with BTS. You knew of them, having seen them around campus, but never have talked to them, besides Jung Hoseok, Jungkook’s pack member. The two of you were lab partners in Astronomy last semester.

But ever since you found out that Jungkook was your mate, he began to show up to class now. Of course, he did show up every now and then, probably three times a week. Now, he is showing up everyday and is now sitting behind you. His presence both overwhelms you and brings you a sense of security. You can feel his stare on you in class and around campus. You know that he is close by when you get a tingly feeling in your chest, a tell tale sign that tells you that your imprint is near. The both of you have yet to talk because each time he approaches you, you freak out and run away, dragging Lisa with you. You know that your actions hurt him when you do this. The tightness and longing in your chest is a sign that Jungkook is hurting. 

Every night you talk to Lisa about your situation. You have not put it off at all, something that you know that Jungkook is assuming that you are doing when Hoseok stopped you in the hallway. The thing is, you are terrified. You are terrified because you are nineteen with zero experience in the dating field. Being single your whole life is backfiring on you right now. You do not know what to expect or even know what to do. Plus, what if Jungkook is only feeling this way because you are his mate and he only wants to live? Is he just using you because you are his imprint, or does he seriously want to be with you and be committed?

Those questions earned you a slap from Lisa. “Dumbass, did you not listen to me when I explained to you how imprinting works? When a person imprints on someone, all that they see and want is them. Everyone else becomes irrelevant. Their loyalty stands with you, and their pack. Nothing and no one can break the bond that they have with you. It is said that the Moon Goddess herself made the bond not even break in death. Loyalty is the most important thing in the wolf world. I can bet my life that Jungkook is thinking about you right now. Well, I know he is because Kim Namjoon came up to me and asked me to talk to you, which is funny because he thinks that I haven’t, and gets you to talk to Jungkook. Supposedly Jungkook is acting like a scolded puppy and is pouting because you keep avoiding him.”

That is why you were not surprised when Jungkook cornered you one day (the day Lisa had to miss class) in the hallway. The distressed look on Jungkook’s face told you that he in fact is panicking. “I’m sorry, I know that I promised you that I would give you space, but I cannot stop thinking about you and needing to be in your presence. Both my wolf and I are freaking out. All we need is an answer, or at least a hint so we can calm down. I am so sorry for pressuring you.” He rushed out, leaning back to give you space. Running a hand through his hair, you could see how nervous he is.

“I’m sorry for being slow on getting back to you, I didn’t realize how badly this has been affecting you. I should’ve thought about that instead of being ignorant.”

Shaking his head violently, “No, no! Don’t apologize, I totally understand why you are taking a while. I just, my instincts were taking over because my wolf and I were needing to have some sort of contact with you to help calm down.”

“What fur color is your wolf?” You asked randomly, surprising Jungkook.

Smiling, “Black. Midnight black to be more specific,” he answered.

“That’s cool! Are you the only one with the fur color in your pack, or?”

“Yoongi-hyung has the same fur color, but his has a much darker tent than mine. Even though I have incredible sight, sometimes I can’t see him because of how well he blends in with his surroundings at night.”

“That’s really cool!” You boasted, becoming very intrigued with what you are learning about.

Jungkook flashed you a smile, making you smile back at him by how contagious it was. Clearing his throat, “So, uh, does this mean that like…”

“Yes,” you began, trying to calm your racing heart from the hopeful look on Jungkook’s face, “But, I don’t want to jump right into a relationship. I’ve never had a relationship before, and I don’t want to jump into one right yet.”

Trying to keep the sad look from showing, Jungkook still smiled brightly. “Of course! I don’t want you to be in a position where you feel uncomfortable.”

“Thanks for being understanding!”

And understanding he is.

After your guys talk, the both of you swapped phone numbers and even each other’s social media. Jungkook was determined to start a streak with you on snapchat and become your number one best friend on it, something you found funny. From then on out Jungkook became a constant in your life, a constant that Lisa does not like – mainly because she is not a fan of wolves. She, though, is happy to see how happy you have become, especially after your mother’s death. She could not deny how lovesick Jungkook is for you and how attentive he is with you. Her and the rest of BTS laugh with each other on how alert Jungkook becomes when you are doing something.

“Hey, I’m going to go and get some more ketchup.” You got up from the table and headed straight towards the counter that held the ketchup.

Lisa watched Jungkook stare at you as you walked off, never once taking his eyes off you. It was like a foreshadowing moment that Jungkook had – jumping up from his chair, he made his way towards you, tugging your arm towards him before you turned around and slipped in the puddle that was right below your feet. Lisa must admit that she did not even notice the puddle that was below your feet. Being a vampire, her eyesight and hearing are very advanced. So, seeing that Jungkook noticed it and prevented a scene of you falling, she could not deny the fondness that she is beginning to have towards the wolf.

But she believes that Jungkook has a sixth sense when it comes to you. And Jungkook does. The moment he woke up he could feel that there was something wrong with you. He does not know what, but the heavy feeling that him and his wolf felt was a sign that you were not okay.

And you are not.

Today marks the two-year death anniversary of your mom. Of course, everyday since that day has been hell, but knowing that two years ago, just a few hours before her death was the last time you got to hear her voice, feel her touch, and be with her. You hate yourself for not staying any longer with her, for not taking her with you when you had that ability.

You heard your phone buzzing like crazy, but you did not even bother with picking it up. All you did was stare at the wall in a void like state. You ignored Lisa’s knocking on your door, her calls, and worried voice. She knew what day this was, and she knew that it was going to be a difficult and long day. She was worried that you were going to relapse, worried that you will drift off into that dark place that took her months to get you out of.

That is why at 9:53 a.m. she was not that surprised to open the door to find a panicking Jeon Jungkook.

“Where is Y/N? Why is she not answering my calls?” He asked quickly, only to pause once he could sense that you were close. “What’s wrong with Y/N?”

The vampire sighed, “Jungkook, I hate that I have to say this, but Y/N may not want to see you right now. Today is a very bad day for her.”

“Please let me in.” Jungkook begged, distressed that he cannot comfort you. With that, the statement that Lisa said made Jungkook and his wolf even more distressed, if that was even possible. “I just need to be with her, help her. I won’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.”

Running her hand down her face, Lisa sighed and allowed the wolf in after a few minutes of thinking. “Second door on the right, the door is unlocked.”

As if he was a dog chasing after a ball, Jungkook charged towards your door. Being cautious, he opened the door quietly, being met with the smell of regret, longing, and sadness. His wolf whimpered at the sight of their mate in such a depressed state. Walking in quietly, Jungkook took off his shoes and did the one thing that he knows that will work.

 Lifting the covers, he caught your attention, “Jung—”

“-Hey,” he smiled at you, not believing that he was in front of a goddess. No matter what state you are in, you will always look beautiful in his eyes.

“Why are you here and not asleep? You usually wake up at 2 in the afternoon on the weekends?”

“I could sense something is wrong.”

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to lie, but the glassy look in your eyes was forming tears. Lip wobbling, “I’m not okay,” and that was when you felt yourself break down and seek out the comfort that only your imprint could give you. Throwing yourself into his hold, you gave up on trying to keep that barrier that you have created when it comes to physical contact with the wolf.

Jungkook had a million questions that he wanted to ask you, to find out who or what has hurt you. His wolf wanted to seek out the person who has hurt his mate, to kill or torture that person that dared to mess with his mate. Jungkook felt the primal need to do so, just to make you happy. But he wanted you to be okay first, to smile again, to be happy and yourself.

For the next hour, you relished in the comfort that only Jungkook could give you. With him holding you felt like a part of you felt better, but the knowledge that your mom is still gone and that she will not be back still haunts you. Jungkook could sense that, he could sense your distress and his wolf whimpered inside of him. Running his hands through your hair (something he has been wanting to do for three months now), he could tell that it is something that helps you calm down.

“My mother passed away two years ago today,” you began. Jungkook’s hold on you tightened, encouraging you to go on. “I should’ve taken her with me instead of leaving her there by myself. I should’ve dragged her with me instead of leaving her there at that stupid mall so she could get those dumb pair of shoes that she was waiting for. I tried to convince her to wait and get them later on, but she was adamant on getting them.” You gritted out, becoming angry at yourself. “And then there was a robbery during the sale, and she was…” and you clung onto him as if he was your lifeline, nose nuzzled into his neck, finding comfort in his natural, woodsy scent.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. You did not know, it is not your fault that your mom died, and she knows that. Blaming yourself for something that was way out of control is going to continue to make you miserable and eventually will kill you.” Jungkook said after a while. “Please stop beating yourself up over this is leading you down that road.”

You did not say anything, but when you squeezed Jungkook tightly for a minute and then released, he knew that was you acknowledging what you said. For the rest of the day the two of you spent the day in your bed, holding onto one another, talking about anything and everything. Eventually the both of you fell asleep without noticing it. Waking up the next morning entangled with one another, it felt normal. It was as if this was normal.

You realized that Jungkook is permanent and that he is not leaving you, that he is not making this all for show. So, that is why you began to stop stressing and worrying. You allowed yourself to fall, and you fell.

Ever since that day, you and Jungkook became what you call closer. You began to become physically affectionate with him and accept his affectionate ways. Jungkook obviously did sit next to you, or at least be six feet away from you in the beginning because him and his wolf needed that sense of relaxation to know that you were nearby. Now, though, Jungkook and you are touching one another in some sort of way now, whether that be your arms touching, knees touching, or him standing very close to you. You did not mind this one bit, the feeling of his body warmth had you feeling safe.

In class, now, Jungkook sits beside you, kicking the class nerd, AJ, out of his spot. His actions resulted in the silent treatment from how rude he was to the scrawny kid. During class Jungkook would whine and basically paw at your arm, wanting you to forgive him. After class, he went up to AJ and apologized, well, tried too, which earned Jungkook a please smile from you. 

The boy loves your praises and attention. But sometimes, he could not handle it when you and Lisa talk about guys right in front of him. 

You were out with Lisa, Jungkook, and Jungkook’s pack, having dinner at the new restaurant in town. All of you were seated around the large, round table, you being sat in between Jungkook and Lisa. Jungkook had scooted his chair to where it made your chair and his almost like a two-seater, arm around your shoulder as he had you leaned into him. You, obviously, did not mind this, finding yourself relaxed into his body. The two of you were looking at the menu together, trying to figure out what you both would want.

“I think I’ll just stick with a salad as an appetizer and have chicken alfredo as my dinner,” you concluded, looking at Jungkook.

“That sounds good baby,” Jungkook agreed with what you wanted. “I’ll take Spicy Kimchi Stew,” Jungkook concluded after a few minutes later, finalizing what he wanted right before the waiter came to the table.

Lisa kicked your leg, catching your attention. Raising her eyebrows suggestively at you when you realized that she found the waiter cute. Giggling, you nodded in confirmation, not denying the waiter was cute. But they would never beat Jungkook in attractiveness in your opinion.

Not knowing that Jungkook watched the interaction between you and Lisa, a low predatory growl rumbled in Jungkook’s chest. Tightening his arms around you, he sat up straighter in his chair and glared daggers into the waiter, nerving the poor boy.

“Jungkook.” You scolded at his rudeness when he told the boy what you two would like.

Losing his composure, Jungkook frowned down at you, “What?” He asked, trying to play innocent.

“Don’t be rude,” you said, giving Jungkook a look.

Jungkook pouted, “I’m sorry,” he apologized, wanting to get back on your good side. He hates being scolded by you.

“It’s okay, Kookie. Just go easy on the poor lad, he did no harm.”

“But you thought he was cute,” Jungkook grumbled, taking a sip of his water, jealousy evident in his tone and body language. 

Catching on to what he was saying, you giggled, finding his jealousy cute. Finding some confidence, “He has nothing on you.” A huge blush covered your face after you said that, “you have nothing to worry about.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment, body going stiff. You were nervous that you messed up, but those thoughts disappeared once you felt a pair of lips pressing to the side of your head and his arms pulling you closer (if possible) to his side, body trying to cover you with his. For the rest of the night, it felt as if you and Jungkook were on a new level. Jungkook was extra clingy and you were wanting Jungkook’s attention. You assume that your words had hit the both of you in a deeper meaning, a silent way of saying that you both belong to one another. 

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love (Modern!Ivar x OC) Chapter 2

Well I meant to only write a one-shot but oops, I just kept going. 

This is Chapter 1 but from Ivar’s POV. We also get to see some family dynamics there and why he was acting towards Kari like he did. 

A huge thanks again to @saritanotserena​ for help with the moodboard. 

Words:4200

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content

If you need to catch up, Chapter 1. 

Series Masterlist

"Fuck." The word dropped from his mouth with all the impact of a grenade. Somehow even just uttering the word solidified what he had just been told. 

 Running his tongue along his teeth, he huffed then slipped his phone into his back pocket. His brothers were not going to be happy. He glanced up at the moon as if hoping it would give him answers, but she was a fickle bitch and just shone down on him, surrounding him in shadows. Somewhere he had spent most of his life anyway, where he felt most comfortable now. Not forever though. He promised himself that. He would not spend forever in the shadows. 

 Turning around, he yanked the 'employee only' door open and slipped back into the raucous club. His thoughts tore relentlessly through his mind as he walked down the darkened corridor. It was easy to dismiss the blasting music, the bright lights, the drunken cheers from inside the club. It was all superficial, all irrelevant. His mind focused on the important things. At least what he deemed important for his intellectual mind. Tomorrow, he was leaving for a business trip to the Mediterranean and with the way things were playing out….it would certainly not be boring. He could already taste the blood on his tongue. A venomous smile hinted at the corners of his lips at the thought. 

 Walking down the crowded hallway, leading to the main floor of the club, people instantly jumped out of his way. If it was due to the scowl on his face or the knowledge of who he was, he did not care. They were all beneath him. A couple of the women tried to make eye contact, to slither closer in hopes of gaining his attention. He ignored them. They had better luck gaining favors from one of his brothers. He wondered if that was part of their draw to him, for how few women he allowed to entertain him. It mattered not. 

 A twinge in his leg caused him to step to the side of the hallway for a second and pause. The pain was mild, something he constantly endured. Pain- his ever-constant companion. Closer to him than his own family. This twinge told him he had spent far too long on his feet today, especially without his cane. He snarled at himself, at his own disability, his inadequacy. Before self-loathing could sink in, he pushed the feeling away. No more. He would rise above this, as he always did. There was no other choice. The gods bestowed this curse upon him, he would make sure they regretted it. 

 For once though, he wished the gods would bless him. 

 Just as he started to move forward, a blonde woman crashed into another woman that had been walking in his direct path but seemed not to notice due to her facing the ground. The blonde ran into the smaller brunette then continued onward without notice or care after righting herself. Unconsciously, his hand darted out to grab the arm of the brunette woman before she fell ungraciously at his feet. Normally, he was not so selfless. His typical response would be to taunt and laugh at the woman at his feet. Make some comment about how he had no need for her to worship at his feet. But as soon as he grabbed her, kept her upright, he wondered why she was different. Why his usually barbed words were silenced.

 Her hands fisted the front of his Armani shirt as if clinging to a sinking ship and hoping for salvation. He would have laughed at any other time for he was the furthest from salvation; but her head tipped up and he felt himself freeze. Her eyes widened meeting his and for a fleeting moment he wondered what she saw when looking at him. He peered down at her, the top of her head just under his chin. Her chocolate hair hung loosely behind her, reaching a couple inches past her shoulders. Pale, pink lips glistened under the lights, distracting him for a moment with the way they glistened. Dark eyeliner and a smoky color highlighted her blue-green eyes that reminded him of the sea, swirling and enchanting.  What surprised him most was the seemingly innocent look in those ocean eyes. Even her features seemed so girl-next-door and innocent that he wondered what someone like her was doing in a place like this. 

 His hand still held onto her. He needed to let go but found himself reluctant to. She was a mystery that he found himself wanting to unravel. He placed the words on his tongue to make a quip, to return to his comfortable aloof manner but not fast enough…

 For she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. 

 A myriad of emotions flooded him at the sensation of her gentle kiss. So profound were the conflicting feelings, he stood as a statue, unmoved for concern of what his actions would tell. Though he had been kissed before, those were always alcohol or lust fueled, and even then only minimal for they represented a precursor to what he actually wanted. This felt like nothing he had ever experienced before, it was soft and gentle, like the touch of a butterfly's wing. Yet it also unleashed something in him desiring more. More of the softness she unwittingly offered, something his life was void of. Lastly though, it burned his soul because no one like her ever came to him willingly or because they wanted him. There was always a catch, always something they wanted. He was never good enough. He was never enough. 

 "Are you drunk?" He blurted out without caution or remorse. The lingering taint of tequila on her breath alerted him that she was not entirely sober. 

 "What?...no, I've had like two drinks but that's it...wait. Oh gods! Was my kiss that bad? Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll just...sorry." She began blabbering, cheeks turning a lovely pink even through her sun-kissed skin. 

 He stared at her a long time, unsure what to do next. He prided himself on his ability to make decisions, to plan and see corners when others only saw a straight line. It was also not unknown his ability to predict how others would think and react, and he used that to his own advantage often. But with her, he was unsure. He knew it would be wisest to push her away, to return to his brothers and tell them the news that had him in a foul mood. Yet he found himself leaning towards the alternative, curious to see what she would do next, what her sweet kiss meant, to stare into her beguiling eyes more and taste those pretty, pink lips again. 

 "Come." He commanded, releasing her arm and taking a step to the side. 

 "Wha…. what?"

 He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. "Come. I am not through with you." Here was the test. Here would decide how they both reacted. Mentally, he prepared himself for rejection and prepared a sharp barb on his tongue only for it to be silenced with her quiet, stuttered acceptance. 

 "Ohhh….um, ok."

 Glancing over her quickly, he turned on his heel and started towards the VIP section before she could see the surprise and shock on his face. He hated how her acceptance momentarily warmed his heart. He promised himself he would continue to test her, to make sure she was not feigning desire. For if she was, he had no problem giving her a taste of his anger and retribution for being played. His brothers had learned long ago to forgo what they thought was helpful by throwing women at him. Those same women usually returned to his brothers in tears and cursing his name due to the intimidation and demeaning he showered them in. 

 He led her to an unoccupied section, grateful that the space his brothers sat at was further away and they seemed preoccupied with their own revelry. Without a word, he dropped onto the couch, his legs thanking him for the reprieve. He turned to her and could not help but slide his heated gaze over her body. Standing there in her short, tight, black dress and wicked heels, he found his mouth suddenly dry. What she wore was pure temptation, flattering her delicious curves and elongating her legs to a point where he wondered what she would do if he dragged his tongue from her toes all the way up to her hip. It was the way that she lightly bit her lower lip, looking both excited and shy that caused his member to harden beneath him. 

 Silently, he held out his hand, beckoning her closer. A thrill raced down his spine as she took her hand and let him guide her to straddle his lap. 

 "Good girl." He murmured, pleased by her actions. 

 As her lips descended once more upon his, where last time he was unmoved, this time he took control. His hands gripped her ass, holding her against him as his mouth dominated. His tongue greedily worshiped her mouth, drawing her tongue into a sensual dance that earned a moan from her. Unable to stop, he found himself powerless to tear his mouth from hers. It was like the sweetest ambrosia he ever tasted. Her mouth was both sweet and filthy and he wanted to drown in the taste. 

 When her lips retreated, he almost snarled at losing their touch. Instead he dropped his mouth to her chest, lavishing the line of her cleavage with his mouth and tongue. 

 "Fuck, you taste amazing." He whispered. He could get drunk just off the taste of her. His tongue traced the tops of her breasts once more before moving up her chest and neck to suckle just below her earlobe, wanting to leave his mark. In more than one place. When a soft purr escaped her due to his touch, he could not help the possessive way he held her tighter, needing her closer, needing to hear that sound again. 

 Her hands grasped his face, forcing their lips to meet again and it was all he could do to suppress the pleased growl in his throat. Her hips began grinding fervently above him and he knew she was lost to the throes of pleasure. 

 "Fuck, kitten, keep going. Ride my cock." He growled into her mouth. He watched as she threw her head back, mouth open. Continuing to grind under her, he decorated her skin with hot, open-mouth kisses and sucking occasionally, wanting to leave evidence of his touch on her. So she could not forget him easily. To mark her as his. For after this, she would surely be his. He watched her unashamedly as her orgasm hit her. Her lips parted, eyes closed and head thrown back, she was the most beautiful creature in this moment he had ever laid eyes on. 

 "What…." He watched as she licked her lips, seeming to struggle with forming a coherent statement once the blinding pleasure dissipated. "What, um, was that?"

 "What are you talking about?" He asked smugly, as he continued to place open mouth kisses along her chest and neck, never stopping his ministrations. His member was rock-hard under him and demanding attention. Soon enough, he would have her on her knees before him. He wanted to see those pretty, pink lips he enjoyed so much wrapped around his cock. 

 "Um, that feeling… I just...wow…." She stuttered out, voice wavering. 

 He stopped his ministrations, a realization dawning upon him. He tilted his head slightly to hold her gaze. "Have you never had an orgasm before?"

 He could see the panic that filled her eyes before she even moved. As soon as she tried to dart away like a skittish animal, he pinned her to him, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and kept a firm grip on her hip with the other. 

 "You never have…." He murmured aloud. Truthfully, virgins were an elusive breed due to his social circle and work. Especially virgins coming to him. This information also drew forth a caveman feeling that inflamed his blood and made his member strain with even more painful pressure. He was the first to touch, the first to give her pleasure. It made him want to lay her down and have her right there on the couch, uncaring of anyone who walked by. He wanted to hear her purr under him, to drag her nails down his back. He wanted to claim her, to never let another man touch her. That only he would bring her pleasure. He wanted to corrupt and taint her, but also worship her as his goddess. 

 "Are you a virgin, my pretty kitten? Mmm?" He knew the answer but wanted to hear her say it. Needed her to confirm it. 

 "Please," she whined. He was unsure if her plea was to save her from speaking out loud her innocence or to continue lavishing her with pleasure. Either way, he could tell she was at his mercy and he loved it. 

 Deliberately slow, he leaned closer to her, hovering his mouth over hers. The way her breath hitched, her eyelashes fluttered, her hands tightening on his shoulders, he knew she wanted him. 

 "Kari!'

 His pretty kitten jerked at the call, drawing her gaze to two women standing at the entrance of the VIP section with the bouncer.  

 "It's time to go!" One of them yelled over the music. 

 He narrowed his eyes at them, angry that they were stealing her attention. The one who called out ignored him, keeping her eyes on the brunette in his lap while the other practically bounced on her toes, nervousness evident. Clearly, they knew who he was. He smirked, a dark and devious look that caused both to stiffen even from far away. He licked his bottom lip as if tasting their fear in the air. 

 "I have to leave." She quietly said when she turned back to him. Any other person he would have assumed she would be pleased to abandon him, that this whole thing was a set up and now her friends were coming to 'rescue' her. Staring up at her, he could see the guilt in her eyes, the lust still dancing there. 

 There was still his question he wanted answered before he even considered letting her go, which he was becoming more and more reluctant to. He dropped his head, nuzzling her neck after brushing her hair away before whispering into her ear. "Answer my question first." 

 "I... I need to go. I'm sorry. Please. I just…"

 He forced her gaze to meet his, lips ghosting over hers. "Answer. Me." He snapped, not pleased with her trying to get out of answering. 

 Finally, her answer came out in a barely heard whisper. "Yes."

 He paused, both surprised and elated by her confession. Immediately, he slammed his lips to her with abandon, forcing her into a needy kiss, coaxing her tongue to dance with his again. A lusty moan from her filled the nonexistent space between them and he answered with a growl. He desired her. More than just a lustful want. No, he found himself enthralled by her innocence but also the way she clung to him as he alone kept her tied to this world, instead of floating away on waves of pleasure. 

 "Stay." He whispered against her lips. 

 "I can't …."

 "I'll bring you home. We aren't finished yet." He stated, rolling his hips under her, his hard cock rubbing against her hot core. Gods, he wanted to keep touching her. Never before had a woman enthralled him as much as she did. He could not, would not, relinquish her. She was his. 

 "Please, I'm sorry. I want to stay, I promise. I've never…. I…. I just need to go. I'm sorry."

 The hint of panic in her voice dulled his lust. It was her words, confirming her want of him that placated him for now; but he would let her go on his terms, not on hers' and especially not on her meddlesome friends' that continued to stare at them. 

 Slowly, as if to prove he still controlled the situation, his grip loosened on her. His thumb caressed her pulse point, loving the erratic beat due to his presence and touch. His other hand trailed up her body as if to memorize it once more before taking her hand. In an uncharacteristic show of affection, he entwined their fingers. His blue eyes beheld her own, the blue-green color swirling and making him feel adrift at sea. Everything in him screamed to keep her in his lap, to not let her go. But there was something different about her, something that demanded care and tenderness, which confused him. She was the first woman besides his mother to show him such soft affection, to make him feel strangely safe. As he sat there staring at her, he felt that he was watching the sun set, beauty radiating enough to take his breath, but he feared the sun would never rise again on them. 

 "KARI!"

 She jolted at the frantic call of her name, tearing her eyes away. If he had no longer been tethered to her, her hand in his, he would have pulled out the knife hidden on his body and thrown it at her friend who kept interrupting them. It would bring him satisfaction to see the knife protruding from her thigh…. he had no intentions of killing her…. unless she interrupted him and his kitten once more. 

 He turned back to her, hoping to draw out a few more moments. "Can I see you again?" He quietly asked, running his thumb along the back of her hand.

 "I hope so." She smiled tenderly at him, then stepped away and walked towards her friends. 

 His gaze traced over her curves as she walked away, watching her hips sway and those tantalizing legs he wanted to caress. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. His gaze flickered back up to her friends. When he saw the one who kept calling her was watching him, a menacing smile grew and his gaze hardened. He was pleased to see her visibly stiffen and scurry away. 

 To his surprise, before fully descending the stairs, the pretty brunette looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze once more. In his mind, he begged her to come back, to return to him. Though the words would never cross his lips. He never begged. His pride and ego would never allow it. Nor would it allow him to chase after her to get her full name or phone number. 

 Then she disappeared amongst the crowd just as quickly as she appeared in his life. 

 His head and shoulders dropped as if an invisible weight had been placed on him. He sat there for a long moment, his mind reviewing everything that just occurred. He also needed his enraged cock to settle before he even attempted to get up. The sounds of her moans in his ear, the soft feel of her skin, how she fit perfectly in his lap as if made by the gods especially for him, that damn purring noise she made as he licked her almost made him blow his load. All of it he never wanted to forget. Though, remembering was not helping him to calm down. There was something different about her, a mysterious quality he wanted to discover and explore, just as much as her body. It was the way she held him unafraid that beguiled him the most. From the way her friends reacted, he knew they understood who he was. But her…. he had the impression she did not know him or what he was. Normally he would be offended, but not with her. She was special. His kitten. 

 With a grunt, he heaved himself off the couch to return to his brothers. At this point they probably figured he had abruptly left or been abducted. Depending on the brother, abduction might be preferable.  

 *****

 "Ivar! There you are!" Ubbe exclaimed, lifting his glass up as Ivar rounded the corner to enter their secluded area. "We were beginning to think you had somewhere more important to be."

 The youngest Ragnarson rolled his eyes as he dropped down onto the couch near Hvitserk. 

 "Who called?" Hvitserk asked, looking at Ivar over his glass. 

 Before answering or meeting the questioning looks of his three brothers, Ivar reached forward and grabbed his beer he had left behind and quickly drained it. Once done, he rolled the cup momentarily between his hands before speaking. "Mother."

 "And what could she possibly want now?" Sigurd drawled, an arm slung over his latest girlfriend. Ivar no longer even tried to remember their names, they were exchanged so often. 

 "Sigurd…." Ubbe reprimanded, giving him a side-glance before looking back at Ivar. His harlot girlfriend, Margrethe, leaned against his side, hand tracing patterns on his thigh. 

 The raven-haired brother sighed before straightening.  "She said she's coming to visit next week."

 Sigurd dropped his head back dramatically onto the back of the couch with a groan while Ubbe solemnly nodded and took a sip of his drink. Margrethe grimaced and muttered something under her breath that caused Ubbe to look sharply down at her. Only Hvitserk seemed unphased by the news, eyes meeting Ivar's for a brief moment before looking back over to watch those on the dance floor. 

 Ivar himself had mixed emotions when it came to his mother. He undoubtedly loved her the most out of anyone in the world. Her presence could also feel strangling at times.  

 "So," Hvitserk started with a smirk on his face, his gaze shifting to Ivar once again, "you going to tell us what took you so damn long to get back? I doubt the phone call took that long."

 Ivar narrowed his eyes at his brother. He knew his brother was playing a game with him and if the smirk said anything, Hvitserk knew why he had taken so long to return to their couches. "Fuck off, Hvitty."

 His brother chuckled while the others around the table looked on in confusion. 

 "Someone care to explain…." Ubbe said. 

 "No." For some reason Ivar found himself not wanting to talk about her. He had heard on more than one occasion how his brothers talked and compared their conquests. Ivar never joined those conversations, not because he was ashamed but he liked his privacy. 

 "Ah, come on, Ivar. She was beautiful, even if I could only really see the tight grip you had on her ass while she straddled you…. hell of an ass." Hvitserk teased. 

 Ivar slammed his glass down on the table, making the table and other glasses rattle precariously. "You say another damn word and I'll break your fucking jaw."

 His second eldest brother raised his hands in a show of surrender but the mischief in his eyes let Ivar know their conversation was not over yet. 

 "What? Ivy found himself a girl?" Sigurd scoffed. "Probably had to pay her to suck his cock."

 "Shut the fuck up." Ivar snarled. 

 "Enough, you two." Ubbe rubbed a hand down his face in exasperation. He glanced over at his youngest brother. "Care to explain?"

 Ivar was not stupid; he could see the intrigue in his eldest brother's face but it did nothing to move him. Instead he leaned back, and turned his gaze to look over the dance floor below. Soon a new conversation started up amongst his brothers but he paid no mind. His attention was on thoughts of her once again.

 "You get her number?" Hvitserk asked quietly after a while. Sigurd had disappeared with his girlfriend while Ubbe and Margarthe were talking and fondling one another. 

 "Does it matter?" Ivar retorted with a devious smirk. That answer made Hvitserk laugh out loud. The youngest Ragnarson had the uncanny ability to find someone when he put his mind to it. On more than one occasion their father had used that talent to find someone that had crossed him. 

 "Hey, ignore Siggy and Ubbe. She seemed into you. Try and get in touch with her, but for fuck's sake, don't stalk her." The two chuckled at that before Hvitserk turned serious again. "What was her name? Or were you too busy getting her off to ask?"

 He mock-glared before looking away. Out of all his brothers, he was definitely closest to Hvitserk. He was the most cool-headed out of all of the Lothbroks and quiet. He was slow to anger but did not shy away from unleashing his fury and bloodlust when the time called for it. Ever since they were children, somehow the two of them clicked compared to any of the other brothers. The second eldest also seemed able to pick up Ivar's moods with ease and knew when to leave the volatile Lothbrok alone. 

 After several silent seconds, Ivar finally whispered. "Kari." Even her name tasted sweet on his tongue. Surveying the club, he promised himself that he would find her. By the gods, he would see her once again and have her. For even if he did not want to admit it fully to himself, he was already addicted to her taste and touch and the mystery about her. And he had never been known to give up on something that fascinated him….and she was no exception.

[dreamii-yume]

Yume-san...How about Ruggie as sugar baby? Y/N, a successful young lady, she comes home tired but her whole house is tidy, dinner ready and a lovely hyena waiting anxiously. "I missed you so much!"; "Today I made your favorite food" and every night, you never get cold, not after making love in such a passionate way, after all, he wants to please you a lot! At first, he was only interested in your money, but as time went by, he wanted much more. The house, the luxury and especially you.

“You’re late.”

You barely opened the door and you were already met with that upset-sounding voice of his. Ruggie’s face was as calm as always, maybe his eyebrows are a little scrunched together in worry but his ears were twitching in irritation. You can only laughed nervously as he stood before you with his arms crossed, anxiously stomping his feet on the floor. The fresh aroma of homemade food dances through the air, suggesting that he was currently cooking just before you arrive. That explained why your very own upset hyena right here had a cute little apron on around him, he seemed to be gripping a spatula rather too tightly too.

“Where were you?” Ruggie pouted as he stepped closer, trying to inspect your current appearance to see if there’s anything different. He took a single sniff of your scent and just like that, his guards were up. “...Have you been spending time with another guy?”

You sighed, laughing slightly as you proceeded to take off your shoes. For a few days now, he’s been acting a little strange, constantly messaging you during work about where you are or what you’ve been doing. Even though he was just someone who you’re paying to act all pretty for you, he sure do take his job seriously, huh? You admire the dedication.

But it doesn’t really matter, it’s cute when he acts this way and he’s actually helpful around the house. The food he makes are incredibly tasty so, you could say that you’re actually getting back what your money is worth. It’s a pain when he would want something though, purring against you and showering you with love until you pull out your credit card. But so far, he hasn’t asked for anything outrageous. At least, not yet...

“Well...There are a few men that I work with in my workplace.” You said as you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m home, by the way.”

“So, what’s for dinner?” You asked as you casually stroll to the kitchen as if you were being lured by the mouth-watering aroma.

Walking past him, Ruggie could only puff his cheeks in irritation, why can’t you just answer his questions seriously for once? You don’t even know how it feels like to prance around the living room, waiting anxiously for the sound of your car parking in the garage. If you’re going to be late then, at least say so, goddamn it!

Glancing at the side, he couldn’t help but glare at the coat that you just hanged on the rack. Even at where he stood, his sharp nose could still detect that other scent mixing in with your own sweet fragrance. Completely ruining one of his favorite scent, it was pissing him off.

God, he hates it. To think that a guy had casually been rubbing off his scent on you disgusts him.

Ruggie begrudgingly grabbed the tainted coat and proceeded to throw it in the laundry, even if it wasn’t even dirty in the first place. Maybe you don’t see it but it really does make him sick to the pits of his stomach. He’ll make sure to wash it extra thoroughly, just to drown out that irritating smell but even then, he knew that it wouldn’t be a permanent solution. As long you keep coming back to work and interact with the same bastard over and over again, this putrid smell will keep rubbing on you.

...Maybe he does need to have a quick trip to your workplace.

Ruggie’s been dying to know what you actually do there, to know how many people you’re associated with since you’re never specific in your texts. Hell, you don’t even respond sometimes and that fucks him up on the inside, must be nice being that ignorant, huh? If he doesn’t want anyone stealing you away from him like this, then it’s just best to visit the root of all problems and immediately cut it. That way, you wouldn’t have to go home smelling like other men out there. He loves your scent on its own, he doesn’t need unnecessary pollution to cling onto you.

Oh, the things that he do for you, this wasn’t even covered in his paycheck but damn it, money doesn’t compare how blissful it is to just being by your side. Though, Ruggie does need to wonder, when exactly did his motivations of latching onto you shifted from just money to something else?

Ah, fuck...He’s thinking crazy again, isn’t he?

[httphonsool]

unpleasantly peasant

synopsis; in which king agust d is a backstabbing brother, and he just wants a wife he can control, but min yoongi doesn’t think he likes either of those ideas very much.

word count; 8.4k

time taken; too bloody long

warnings; cutting, blood, people die, heartbreak, angst, sexual activity is mentioned a few times, reader curses out a servant, yeah i think that’s all but please let me know if there’s anything else

notes; this was supposed to be out much earlier, a few months earlier actually, I’ve spent too long on this and I still feel that I could have done better, however I will be writing more often now, my serenity series is on hold for now, I’m writing a spy!jungkook au which I think you guys may be interested in ! Anyway I hope you guys like this, let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see me write.

-

Seven years ago…

 “You’re a bloody bastard, I swear on God,” Min Yoongi spits.

“And you are not the king.”

“But I should be…you were illegitimate, your mother left you at the feet of the throne, she was not married to our father yet you were still born, you have no fucking right!” Yoongi cries, pain evident, sliding his sword out of its sheath and slicing a cut down his brother’s eye.

And all he gets in return is a laugh, right in his face; just before two guards come take hold of Min Yoongi’s arms

“I told you. You are not the king. I make the decisions.”

“The fuck is wrong with you!? I took you in, took care of you, and loved you when no one else did! Even our father rejected you and I still loved you! You were my brother!” Min Yoongi bawls while he struggles to get out of the guards’ grips.

“And that’s why he’s dead. And you’ll be dead soon too. So I’d run if I were you, you’re being given the chance.”

“I hope the woman you wish to marry is the one that stabs you in the back the hardest. Though, I’d be surprised if you are still alive by the time that happens,” and that’s the last thing Min Yoongi is able to spit at his brother before he’s thrown out of his own home.

He doesn’t know when, or how, but he will seek out his revenge.

But right now his name was forgotten in a series of memories a woman would seek to delve in and retain many years later.

 Seven years later…

 Agust sits on his throne, lazing around, immersing himself in the golden, intoxicating paradise he unrightfully owns, one ear listening to the names of women whom he could marry, the other ear listening to his greed, smiling at the treasure around him.

“Kim Eunha, she…your majesty?” his advisor asks.

“No, tell me something else. I do not want hear about women, why marry one when I can be unmarried and have them all?” Agust chuckles, chuckles turning into full blown laughter. Oh, how obscene King Agust is.

Silence is marred by the filthy sound of footsteps and heavy panting

Loud footsteps carry across the throne room, a breathless man’s voice echoing and bouncing off of the walls.

“My lord, dear, there is a kingdom, in the far off land, they need our troops. They are willing to…” A small, pudgy man curled on the floor forces out, “they are willing to send you their daughter, her hand in marriage,”

“How far is this kingdom?” Agust asks.

“Twenty-one days, sir, we can make it in nineteen if we lessen breaks in between,” the man pants out.

“How old is this daughter of theirs?”

“Just turned twenty.” Ah, the poor girl is four years younger, so innocent, so pure, what a shame her purity will now be tainted.

It’s a shame she is having to give her freedom away this quick, but then again, not everyone is as lucky as to be as free as King Agust.

Not everyone is that obscene either.

And exactly nineteen days later Agust is circling around a fair maiden, examining closely her beauty, every inch of her skin.

And God this kingdom did not disappoint with their women, especially this princess.

Not a speck marking her skin, no flaws, she was perfect in every sense, in every glance, and that is what made the decision. Agust would provide the kingdom support, and power, in return, he would be gifted the kingdom’s first, and only, princess.

Agust doesn’t care about how the woman (barely a woman) feels- for him her beauty is enough to capture his attention more than any other woman has or ever will.

It’s like someone has hit him with a rock: he’s in shock with the pure, unmarred sight of her, his inside coiling in pleasure at the thought of marrying her.

Who cares if Agust didn’t want to marry? He does now.

Maybe it’s the way she looks, maybe it’s her posture, the pure innocence she radiates, but he, the King, truly, really, wants her, more than he has ever wanted anything ever before.

How sweet, how pure, is love at first sight?

In most cases, it does not get sweeter than the bliss you feel in a peaceful spring afternoon, for others it does not become bitterer than your relative’s final words.

But he does not care for the bitterness nor the sweetness; he cares for his future queen.

It’s a shame his love was bittersweet and toxic to the core.

  19th July, twelve weeks before your wedding...

 A man once told you that when you face times of trouble, you must stand your ground and work the situation through single-handedly, but you have never been strong enough to do so, or to exercise this practice. The only way you knew to defend yourself was through your words and your sword, in some cases the words became your sword.

But what do you do when you cannot use either?

You’ve never thought you’d end up walking around a palace that isn’t yours late at night trying to find an escape route, yet here you are, running around, the soles of your feet pressing against the floor with the cold marble being the only thing your sensitive feet can feel, it was not usually this cold at night back in your kingdom.

When you were first told the only way to save your country from being thundered by your enemy was to be gifted to a King, you accepted, you already knew your people came before you, but dear God did you make a mistake.

Yet now you’re to be wed to him. You’ve also been made into a mere dancer, someone that would be given no respect in your Kingdom, the anklet full of bells constantly ringing was the consistent reminder of your status. It’s almost like you’re a concubine. You have no power, and whereas you used to have enough energy to defend yourself, you know that if you try anything now you would end up in a position much worse than how you are right now, all because you gave yourself away.

And it was on your own accords.

You’ve never looked so pathetic, scurrying around, messing up your skirt and almost stabbing yourself with a sword strapped loosely with string (taken from the loose threads of your clothing) to the waist of your embroidered clothing, just to find an escape route.

The main doors aren’t a possibility since they’re guarded. You cannot leave through a window, there are guards surrounding the whole place, you’ll be caught and given a fate which is worse than death…so maybe-

A shuffling sound. It’s almost like leaves rustling.

You whip out your sword, cut yourself on the arm in the process, and slash it around only to be met with the hard, shattering clang sound of metal. You can’t think properly, you’ve never had to actually fight, especially not against a foreigner for God’s sake

Your body goes numb, your mind goes blank and all you can think is intruder, intruder, intruder, intruder. For all you know this could be your last breath.

And all of a sudden you’re pressed up against the wall with a blade against your throat, your own sword now on the floor and prayers flowing out of your mouth whilst you stare into the eyes of your attacker, a face so familiar but a feeling so different.

He looked almost exactly like your fiancé. He just has shorter hair, black, and from what you could tell in the faint glow of the moonlight, he has the same scar, but it looks prettier than his lookalike’s, there was a certain beauty about him, but you can tell he could not care any less than he does about being caught by you.

“Who are you? You’re not from around here.” Neither is he, he looks like he belongs with the peasants from the way he’s dressed.

“Neither are you.” You spit.

“Where are you from? Are you that bastard’s whore?” The boy leans in closer, pressing the blade of sword even harder against you until you have no more space left to move.

“I could kill you,” He tells you when you refuse to answer him; your vision goes blurry with tears threatening to spill. It’s not normal for you to shed tears; you’re used to holding it in because you have to set an example for the younger girls back home.

“You wouldn’t kill a princess,” You whimper, it’s like something clicks in his eyes immediately, grip loosening against his sword and swinging it back into place to rest at his hip.

“So you’re a princess? You’re useful,” a small smirk plants itself on the man’s face.

You shouldn’t trust him, but you cannot help it, he is the most normal person you’ve met in this place so far, in fact he is the only other person you’ve met and have talked to, so maybe you are just desperate, or maybe you are trusting your instincts too much, but you are already in a difficult position, it cannot get worse than this, than being stuck in a foreign land and having to marry a king who couldn’t give a shit less about you and your feelings, just his desire.

But something about him is comfortable; it tastes sweet, sweet like a summer’s day spent in the forest near your home feasting on the most extravagant delicacies your homeland could offer.

“What’s wrong with you? Why the hell are you so pathetically quiet? I thought you were a princess not a slave.” He spits. Oh, if only he knew. “And what were you doing? What were you doing in the middle of the night? Trying to leave? If there was a way out, you would have left by now.”

How does he know?

“Who are you? I’ll call the king, I’ll call his guards! Don’t even think about touching me.” Ah, you’ve finally regained some sort of brain. Though you are lying, you would not call the king, not when this man is your only hope so far.

“Shut your dumb mouth. I don’t want to touch you. Not when you are quite clearly his property,” he pauses, looking you up and down, a smirk etched onto his face, one you didn’t even mind, “though, you are a pretty sight.”

“No, I’m not his property, I am a princess, and I’d appreciate it if you could treat me with the same respect which you would treat your king with. Especially assuming that I am about to become his wife,” you step forward towards him, faking absolute confidence.

“Mm, but I don’t respect this king you talk about. I don’t respect manipulative fucks who use me to get what they want,” what is he on about?

“What?” You ask, confusion taking over your sense.

“You want to go back home?”

“Well obviously, isn’t this what we’re discussing?”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“I’ll spoil it for you now: no. No, you can’t go back, you do not belong to your country anymore. I mean they basically sold you didn’t they? You no longer have any worth even there, let alone here.” He laughs, “so pathetic, really, but, if you really wanted to get out of here…” so this was what it was, this was what he wanted out of you.

And you are so pathetic, so stupid you’re actually giving him what he wants.

“Please. Tell me.”

“Hmm, help me rip his life apart. You’re a warrior princess. I know where you come from, what they teach you. Help me kill him.” Him? Who is him?

“Him?”

“Your beloved fiancé, my dearest, bastard brother,” He chuckled, “who else? You really think I look like him for no reason?”

Oh, in God’s name what will you do?

You are not one for battles and murder; you have trouble even lifting your sword before someone else does.

What are you going to do? Kill him in his sleep? Rip his throat from his body? Please, that’s absolutely ridiculous; you barely have the power let alone the strength.

Who even is this man, besides having the role of being the King’s brother? How come you have not seen him before?

“Who are you?”

“Are you that stupid? Are you that dumb?”

“I asked a question,” you step forward once more, regaining your confidence.

“So did I,” He spits, “I’m his brother, he threw me out of here, now I’m back, look, do you want to leave? Or do you want be stuck in a marriage that promises you nothing but pain?”

“Why are you telling me? I could tell my fiancé.” He steps into you, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he pushes you back into the wall with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“You don’t really want to marry him, do you? Look me in the eyes and tell me,” he whispers. You falter, he’s right, you were just looking for an escape route, he caught you, and of course you will not speak to his brother.

“I want out,” a tear makes its way down your cheek, “I’ll do whatever,”

“Don’t worry for it, it’ll be handled, princess…” his hand makes its way to your face, gently tracing the outline.

And this, this is how you know you are with the right man in the moment, the sense of comfort felt was unspeakable, it almost felt like…

You were supposed to marry a man who treated you like a whore, but now you are not sure whether you will be marrying someone at all.

And maybe this was the perfect way out.

-

You meet him a few times more, discussing the plan and strategy; these meetings being in the safety of your dimly lit chambers, a little bit more up close and personal, and honestly you enjoy this closeness.

And it’s unfortunate really, but you seem to have taken a liking for the bastard king’s brother, it’s almost pathetic that you’re discussing your escape plan.

“Have you eaten? Has he hurt you today at all?”

“No, he ignored me today,” truth be told, you’re not sure why King Agust is ignoring you as such, it makes you wonder is he maybe that you met his brother? Or maybe he was sick of you and sick of your voice, your dancing, everything, maybe he would finally let you go? Unlikely, but you still wished for it.

“He must have smelt me.” Truth be told, you’re not sure why you’re so surprised to hear this either.

“What?”

“He must have smelt another man’s scent on you, we need to be careful, don’t come close to me.” But you like being close to him, you haven’t felt so comfortable being close to someone in such a long time.

“But I like this, I like you.” You thought maybe this would fluster him, but his face remained void of any emotion at all.

“I don’t have time to be friendly, I’m here to keep you company simply so that you trust me. And we’re going to the market place tomorrow, I’ll sneak you out, don’t worry, he won’t even notice you’re gone.” His hand comes up and cups your soft cheek, stroking your cheekbone, “stay safe, princess.”

And then he’s up and gone.

-

What does he even do here? You wonder as you stroll around the market place linked hand in hand with the man who had promise to save you from an unwanted marriage, and as much of a dick he can be, he’s still so pretty to look at. 

And you know deep down he is so much nicer than he’ll ever show to you in a public place.

You’ll never tell him but he’s ten times better looking than his brother, because at least he does not force you to do things solely for his pleasure, and at least he’s gentle, and at least he cares; at least he isn’t an idiot.

Or maybe he is forcing you into things...but you’re gaining from this too.

And besides, for some fucked up reason you feel way too much affection for him.

“You know...you never really tell me how you are, it’s a little scary,” you don’t tell him how you are either, but you know it’s only because he doesn’t care.

“I’m fine. And you?” You don’t understand why, but hearing him talk so straightforward, so politely, well...politer than he’s ever been before to you anyway, but it makes you laugh, a pure chuckle. “What? What is it now?”

“No, nothing, you were just...being polite, it seemed too sweet,” you giggle uncontrollably to the point the people around you start staring too.

“Sweet? I don’t do sweet, it sounds disgusting, I think what you mean is that I’m playing nice, and in that case, if it’s such an issue, I can go back to being a dick, if you would like, so you can dislike me all you want, I don’t care,” that’s a lot of talk for someone who doesn’t care, it only just makes you giggle more, until it finally settles in your head what he’s just said, you stop him from leading you further down the market, linking your other hand in his as well.

“I hope you realise that I never disliked you, Min Yoongi, not even in the beginning,” and that’s when the giggles erupt again, just at the sound of his name. You like that. You like his name, even if it’d been corrupted by a man who should not even have the right to say it.

Yoongi jerks his hand out of yours.

“God, the only reason I even held your hand was so that I wouldn’t lose you, not so that you can get all sickly sweet and sentimental, please keep that between us in private.” 

And that only makes you giggle even more.

Dear God, this is going to be a long day, Yoongi thinks, he almost wants to drown himself right now with the way you just can’t stop giggling.

But at the same time it’s kind of endearing.

And maybe he loves it…just a little bit.

-

“You know, I have never visited a marketplace. Not once.”  You tell Yoongi, he doesn’t actually care, he probably isn’t even listening.

“And you’re telling me....why?”  Yoongi asks.

“Because I want to tell you, so listen, or God forbid I’ll have my people stake you,” you jokingly threaten him.

“Okay, princess, tell me, or ask me, whatever you want,” well you didn’t expect that one, but you’ll accept it either way.

“You said he threw you out...tell me what happened,” it’s not even a question, more of a demand, and you know he’ll tell you. Min Yoongi pauses, his muscles tensing underneath your fingers from where you gripped onto his arm.

“he killed my father, that greedy bastard killed my mother too, then he told me to leave or he’d have me killed so I can join my parents, and well I guess he didn’t have the heart to kill me, we were always close growing up, I always took care of him like he was my younger brother...because well  he was, but then he killed my father, and my mother, just because he wanted the throne, because he was tired of being ‘second best’, I miss it, I miss him, but after what he’s done to the people, and me, someone has to dispose of him.”

“The people?”

“Well, look around you, does anyone seem happy?” You stop in the middle of the market, taking a full three-sixty-degree turn and looking at people’s faces, full of sorrowful expressions, sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks.

“They look so downcast, so unhealthy.”

“They are, he can’t take care of a kingdom, he was never trained for it, and he was just greedy for power and...Women and money, he takes so much money from us that we’re left not being able to buy food to feed our families, or whoever we live with.” 

“If this is where you live, why were you in the palace that night?”

“Let’s say I’m lucky I lived there my whole life. I know a woman that I grew up with, she lets me in when I want to see her. I don’t think I could live without her.”

Oh. There’s a woman.

And he can’t live without her.

Then why does he act so affectionate in private?

“Anyway, you told me you wanted to introduce me to someone in the market place?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there, there’s several places I needed to take you,” Yoongi drags you all the way to a butcher’s stand.

“___, this is my friend, he’s a butcher….he also um, executes in his spare time,”

“Oh.” You state, a sense of confusion settling in your brain.

“I think you know why you’re here, ___,” Yoongi whispers your ear.

“You need a favour from me, son? A favour just like last time?” The butcher asks, despite his overall gruff look, his voice is much smoother and silkier than you would have imagined.

You don’t know what favour Yoongi asked, and you don’t want to know either.

“When’s the next execution?” Yoongi’s voice lowers, almost as if he’s asking a secret.

“Day before the King’s wedding, why? You need me to sneak you in?” The butcher asks, an untamed brow being raised.

“Me and my…” Yoongi stares at you, eyes softening, “…accomplice, will be hopefully running away.”

“Ain’t that a crime?”

“Exactly. We’ll be caught; I’ll make sure of it.”

“Son, why are you telling me all of this?”

“When we’re presented in front of you to be executed-” Yoongi, eyes him.

“He won’t execute ‘er, he’ll fuck ‘er, chain ‘er up, but he won’t kill her…heard he’s been too whipped for this soon to be bitch of his to be able to do something of the sort,” you gasp at the vulgar language the butcher uses, raising your hand almost as if to slap him.

“How dare you? How dare you use such vulgar-” Yoongi places a hand on your shoulder, your anger suddenly disappearing and transforming into nerves, Jesus Christ, why does he do that?

“I apologise, she’s not used to such areas-”

“My God, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’ve both been meeting each other behind the King’s back with the way you’ve been looking at each other,” The butcher chuckled loudly, a hard blush covering both yours and Yoongi’s cheeks.

Was it truly that obvious how you were towards each other?

-

“Imagine if he knew my whole plan,” Yoongi mutters to himself, “he isn’t a quiet lad, he’ll go around telling everyone.” He places his head in his hands, sighing.

“Hmm, the way you look at me…” you tease, rolling over in your bed and squishing his cheeks.

“Oh, God.”

“How do you look at me…I know you weren’t too fond of me that first night…” you dreamily place your hands around his neck, he calmly grabs your hands from around his neck, and places them back by your sides.

The sting of rejection injected in you had never stung worse.

“I mean at least I don’t hate you. It could be worse. I could be like him; at least I’m not going to beat you because I get mad at you at times, at least I treat you as I should.”

Oh.

“Oh.” You state, tears welling up, it’s pathetic really, and why are you crying?

“I’m sorry.” Is he? Is he really?

“You act so strange sometimes, it’s like one minute you’ll caress me, and make sure I’m okay and the next you’re ashamed of me. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

“I’m sorry, princess.”

You don’t reply after.

You don’t meet with him that night either, and he doesn’t bother showing up.

-

It’s midnight, and you’ve never been in worse pain…not after how you’ve been treated. On this day especially, the cut you accidentally made on yourself the night when you met the emotionally unavailable brother of your soon-to-be husband had finally made itself aware. The beating you got for accidentally marking up your skin was nothing compared to the deep cut he sliced on your shoulder blade in order to shame you for the stench of another man being found on you.

His proclamations of love meant nothing when he did this to you. He wasn’t a king he was a coward.

“Why are you not asleep?” You know who it is. He’s your only hope in this country, and with less than a week until you are to be wedded to his brother, you can’t afford to disobey him, not when you owe your life to him for saving you earlier.

His brother. His brother…a man that had absolutely no right to be on the throne, a man that treats you like exactly how a dancer would have been treated in your kingdom. He knows it too, what being a dancer for the king means in your culture; just the sound of bells wrapped tightly around your ankles was enough to strip you of your dignity, making you dance was just another way to ridicule you. All in all, nothing could prepare you for the slice his sword left just next to your left shoulder blade; nothing prepared you to be treated like a bitch on heat left to bleed to death later.

“It makes me uncomfortable,” you state, don’t let him know your weakness; don’t let him know your weakness, you’re stronger than that, are you not?

“Oh, really?” he doesn’t seem sympathetic at all, you can hear his footsteps nearing you, can see his face in the dim light of the burning lanterns scattered across your chambers as he sits in front of you, closer than ever before, and that is right when he draws his dagger out, using it to uncover the white netted shawl from back home that’s draped across your body, your mother gave it to you before she died.

What is he doing?

He moves his dagger into the burning candle wick, heating the blade. You are not quite sure what this man is doing, he could be about to kill you, he could be about to slit your throat, let you bleed out. Like what they did to the meat back home.

“I saw you dancing.” He states, sighing, the flame of the candle reflected in his pitch black eyes, “You dance well.” Now this man whom you trusted is just mocking you, does he not know how degrading it feels to be a dancer? To be stripped of your status, your name, and your home, your family only to be made a dancer for pleasure? For no other than the man who gave your father support in exchange for your hand in marriage?

“I’m a princess, not a dancer, I certainly shouldn’t be-” he presses his scorching hot dagger to the wound on your shoulder blade, pressing your head into his chest, allowing you to cry.

As much as the pain made you suffer, you couldn’t help but sigh with relief at the heat, tears escaping the seams of your eyes, and at the very least your wound will not be infected now. A small tickle, right inside of your ear, “You are not a princess, you are not royalty. You are a mere slave; if you had any noble status over here…you wouldn’t be dancing for that sick bastard of a brother. And if you knew what was best for you, you would run when I let you go.”

“Besides, I think your dancing is beautiful. Not for pleasurable purposes, I swear, princess, it takes skill to be as talented as you, you shouldn’t be mocked for it. I don’t see why it’s such tradition to be mocked for something as intricate as dance.”

It hurts the most because he is right; your status of being a princess means nothing to those in this kingdom, you’ll only be important once you are married to the poor excuse of a king yet you know that in this king’s eyes, you’ll only ever be his whore. But not if Min Yoongi steals the throne, then you could be free, even if it only leads to you wanting to go straight back to him, because over the past week, you’ve learnt how much you need him.

Yoongi presses the dagger harder against your shoulder blade, more tears escaping from your eyes, full sobs running out of your mouth, and all of a sudden the heat is gone, and so is the comfortable warmth of Yoongi’s embrace. You are unable to tell which one is more hated- you want him back either way.

Two dark orbs meet yours, and even in the dim light you admire his scar, only adding fire to his delicate, beautiful features, one that both brothers marked each other with-

For vengeance.

And it looks like Min Yoongi finally will claim his vengeance.

“Give me your hand, princess,” you are far too weak to give him your hand, so he takes your left hand himself, knowing that it is only adding to the pain in your left shoulder blade.

“I thought I wasn’t a princess? I am a slave…no?”

Yoongi plainly ignores your comment, placing his dagger in your hand.

A wave of shock passes through you. A man giving a woman his dagger back in your Kingdom meant much more than just a gift. It meant he was infatuated with you.

But Min Yoongi couldn’t.

“You may not be a princess to him, my brother may not respect your status but I will, and I always will, even after I’ve overthrown that son of a bitch, and even if you decide to leave me,” his fingers trace the outlines of your eyes, your nose, your jaw and finally, your lips. Contrary to his appearance, his touch is much softer than that of the linen used in the clothing your father used to have custom-made for you, his touch was softer than the soft hue of blue that painted the sky, and more comfortable than gossamer touching your skin. In return, you lift your left arm up, fingers extended, bearing the pain because infatuation is not delivered without at least some, and gently trace your finger over the beautiful scar left vertical across his eye. You are lost in the map of his undeniable beauty, so much so that you almost forget that you owe him for stopping an infection from forming in your wound.

“Take,” you pause, a searing pain bursting through your shoulder, Yoongi’s hand immediately comes to rub circles on your back, as you raise a fist clenched with your shawl, the same one your mother gave you, “this is a sign of my gratitude, for helping me, sell it I’m sure you’ll get money for resources or something, you can leave now if you must,” he blinks, facial features void of any expressions or feelings. And then it happens, rapidly, sharper than a blade, he swipes the dagger out of your hand and carves the lightest scratch beneath your collar bone which causes two more tears to trickle down your throat, the scratch is light, but still more than visible and you know you will be receiving a heck of a round of shame tomorrow when you see the king, he does not appreciate you being marked even further.

“How can I leave an untended wound? Isn’t that immoral?” He asks, “You realise, you still owe me one thing,” he trails off, and you can practically see the cynical smirk on his face.

“Me. I’ll gift you myself. I don’t want to marry him, so you take me instead.” You tell him, not a single second of hesitation, Min Yoongi stares at you dead in the eyes, all evidence of mischief and emotion drained from his face, taking your shawl and wrapping you in it, “Sleep, princess, it’ll be easier this time round,” clearly, Yoongi had no care for the way you felt.

“Don’t leave, please, I’d never leave you even if you let me go.”

But you didn’t expect the sting of rejection in your heart when he left. He didn’t want you. You misunderstood.

You are not wanted by Yoongi. And here you thought maybe someone really wanted all of you, but no, he just needs you for his damned plan.

-

Hand-holding seems like such a sweet, affectionate thing to do, but when you’re holding the hand of a man who clearly doesn’t care for you, it feels like more of a trap, especially when you have to announce a marriage to the people of his kingdom.

And it hurts worse when the man you’re seemingly in love with is standing behind a curtain, slightly visible only to you, staring at you with both admiration and pain evident in his eyes.

“…And to celebrate…grand execution…to rid our homeland of those who take it for granted…” you’re too focussed on your Yoongi, who’s staring ever-so cutely at you, emotions, for the first time in the period you’ve known him, showing.

It’s strange afterwards to say the least, there’s a slight look of betrayal on Yoongi’s face, and a sad sort of happiness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“What for?” You ask him

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why?” you ask again.

“I’m sorry,” anger fills his face, tears drip down from his eyes, he pulls you into your chambers, gripping your face and squeezing it lightly.

“You better not change your mind about wanting to leave because if you do, God help me I will never let you leave,” he tells you, grabbing your forearm and squeezing your wrist.

“And what will you do? If I leave, what will you do?” You ask, tears rushing down your face, because maybe you were right. Maybe he did want all of you.

“I’ll find you, I’ll chase you-” he pauses, slipping the dagger hidden in your skirt out, dragging the tip of the dagger over the outlines of your face, and finally down to the surface of your throat, “-I’ll kill myself, and I’ll kill you too, and then maybe we would finally be at peace with each other, far off and away from Earth, with no one but each other.” a sad smile covers his face. If anyone were to be watching the scene they would have thought you both were psychotic, but you understood, he would never really kill you, but he’d never let you be someone else’s either.

You’re not sure where the sudden affection has appeared from as two nights before he completely ignored your statement about your love for him.

“…I’d let you kill me.” You let out a soft chuckle as he places a soft kiss against your forehead, taking his hands back and placing them on your waist.

“Even if I end up marrying him anyway, I’ll still spend the consummation with you.”

Yet, still, he doesn’t kiss you.

-

That night when Yoongi is ten minutes later than usual for the meeting in your chambers, something is off, something is different, smells different, there’s something wrong.

And all comes crashing down when he brings in a woman with him, neck bruised with her love bites, body stinking with the stench of his woman’s perfume. And you resented it.

Why would he do this?

“Princess, meet Jihyo, you may recognise her.”

“I do not.”

“Princess, I serve you breakfast each morning how could you not remember me?”

“I don’t care for you, I don’t care for him either, I don’t even care for myself.” You’re miserable, and you want him to see it, to see if he really cares.

But things were fine this morning? Had he not made it clear how he felt towards you? Why did he have to break you now?

“Jihyo will be helping you go the morning you run away, I’ve changed plans so that you won’t have to get hurt by him, I wouldn’t want to muck up on the day of the execution and have you executed, so I’ll be sneaking you out the morning of the execution, he’ll be busy so he won’t come seeking for you.”

“What the absolute fuck, Min Yoongi?”

“Princess-”

“Do you have no shame? I’ve confessed my never-ending love for you several times now, I’ve made it clear I won’t be leaving even if you want me to, so how dare you come in here with this whore of yours covered in marks she made and covered in her stench. You disgust me. You’re no different from your brother.”

Even Jihyo had nothing more to say.

“I knew you’d hate me in the end. But I’ll tell you anyways, my love, you’d be better off with someone in your own kingdom, and so you need to move on, and I, too, need to get you off of my mind before I make a decision I regret.” Yoongi says, refusing to make eye contact with you.

“No.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? To see me marked by a servant, doesn’t it disgust you that my standards are lower? Doesn’t it make you want to leave?”

“It does, it truly does,” you weep, tears spilling, your heart heavy with pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

“I’m sorry, princess,” Jihyo rushes out of your chambers.

“I won’t be coming to see you again, my love.”

And you won’t be trying to find him either.

-

Jihyo throws your minimal belongings into a weakly knit rucksack while you watch, staring intently, unwilling to move.

“Princess, he won’t change his mind, he wants you gone and far away…and safe.”

“I won’t leave.”

“But he wants you to, don’t you want him to be happy.” It’s sickening to think that this entire time he just wanted you for the crown, he didn’t feel anything towards you, and he just wanted his crown back.

“Princess, he doesn’t love you. Don’t you see what I did to him?”

“I hate both of you.” You get up and grab the rucksack from Jihyo, storming out, finding your way through the halls to the courtyard, where you know the execution is taking place, you may as well bid your King farewell.

You really don’t understand what you’re trying to do, you shouldn’t be doing this because it’ll ruin Yoongi’s plan completely…but there’s a fire inside of you that’s encouraging you to keep going, and you won’t stop yourself.

But maybe you should have because it hurts even more than rejection when you see Yoongi on his knees blindfolded, with his hands bound by rope behind his back and a blade swinging towards his neck. You’re frozen; this wasn’t a part of his plan, was it? He was supposed to have escaped the ropes by now, why is he still there? And he’s not even bothering to move?

And neither can you, your body’s unwilling to move; knowing that if you do you’ll regret it, it’ll pain you terribly.

But you end up doing it anyway.

“No, stop!” All heads turn to you as you swing yourself at your king, sobbing uncontrollably, lungs gasping for air, “Yoongi,” you breathe, slipping his blindfold off.

“Why are you here, you should have left when you had the chance-” the bruises on his neck were long gone now, and he no longer smelt like Jihyo’s wretched perfume, just how you preferred it.

“I should have known,” the king scoffed, “you bloody slut,” Agust drags you away from Yoongi using your hands, cuts and scrapes make their way onto your knees, drawing crimson liquid, “I should have known when I first smelt someone else’s scent on you. You’ve been having an affair behind my back haven’t you?” Gasps pass around the courtyard; you forgot you had an audience for a moment.

“N-no.” He slaps you, grabbing your neck and choking you.

“Don’t lie to me, whore.” The king presses his nails so hard they cut into your skin, “How long since you’ve been seeing him,”

“A couple of months, when I first came,” You cry, struggling in his grip.

“My brother of all people, seriously, you could have-” the both of you can hear the movement behind you; it’s a rustling noise, heavy breathing and it takes you back to the night you first met Yoongi. The king and you both turn your heads slowly to see Yoongi trying to free himself out of the rope. The king scoffs and bellows with laughter, ripping his hand off of your neck and pulling Yoongi towards him, dragging him by his shirt.

“Yoongi?” You call, knowing it could get you in trouble.

He never listens anyway.

You can hear the grunts and shoves, and the yelps of pain coming from both of their mouths, but you don’t watch.

You don’t watch as the love of your life gets beaten by his brother.

You don’t watch as you hear them struggle to kill, hear the punches and grunts and the violent matter being dealt with, because you’ve never been able to handle the mere sight of blood.

There’s a long silence before you hear the sheer sound of metal slicing someone’s neck open and you look up to see your king holding a bloody sword.

You knew what that meant.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to look at your ex fiancé’s body lying dead and cold on the floor.

-

The weeks go on by with a new king in place, the rightful king in his place. You haven’t talked to Yoongi since that day, scared to open your mouth in case he’d offer to send you back home, and you don’t want to go, you want to stay here, stay with Yoongi, so you’ll sit here quietly and play in this intense game of fear. He still invites you to eat with him though, tries to make small talk and smiles at you, but nonetheless, you remain ignoring him, barely eating and avoiding eye contact at all times.

There are times where you’ll be tempted to say something though, and tonight happens to be one of those nights.

“Is your room comfortable, I can have them give you a more comfortable room?” the bed makes my back ache.

“If you don’t like the food I can have them prepare something else for you?” the food’s fine, why won’t you just let me be.

“My king,” you hear a new voice, “we have some…enquiries shall we call it?”

“Yes?” Yoongi responds, placing down his cutlery.

“The previous king never married, the country’s been missing a queen for a long time now, it would be in your best interest to marry, don’t you think?”

“Mm, very well, who do you have in mind?” Yoongi responds. Is he fucking joking right now?

“There are many suitors who are interested…how about Miss Areum, she is your acquaintance since childhood, no?” Unwillingly you growl, extremely un-ladylike but you couldn’t help yourself.

The king can’t help but chuckle, a handsome chuckle at that, too.

“I think Princess ___ would make quite a perfect queen don’t you think? If only she would talk to me, then we could discuss it further.”

“Really?”

“Ah, so she does have a voice? I thought my queen-to-be lost her voice for a while.” Yoongi laughs and it’s a pure, joyous laugh, not cynical or evil like your late fiancé’s.

“I’m sorry, I was scared you’d be reminded of how you wanted to send me back if I spoke.”

“I only wanted that for your safety, princess, but the threat is gone now.”

And for the first time since the death of your fiancé, you laugh and you eat a full meal.

-

The days go on by yet again, winter approaches with heavy thunder and not a word has been spoken about your lover’s subtle marriage proposal, you wonder if he meant it at all.

So far you’ve spent your days scurrying around helping servants, making yourself useful, running around the market place and sewing. Yoongi doesn’t approve of you mixing with people in the market place, scared you’d get hurt or make a scene due to your uneasiness in the country; you ignored him per usual.

But yesterday whilst helping the servants with their tasks you saw Jihyo, and you couldn’t help but feel for her; you cursed out her name when she was really just doing her job, it’s not like she wanted to take part in hurting you, but she did anyways. So you talked to her, though you wished you hadn’t; you wished you hadn’t seen the hollow look in her eyes and the sallow skin on her cheeks: she was suffering, starving probably, and you wonder why Yoongi doesn’t do anything about it since he claimed he was so much better than his brother.

“Jihyo?”

“Oh, Princess!” She smiled, bowing her head slowly, weakly, and her smile didn’t meet her eyes.

“Jihyo, I wanted to apologise for cursing you.”

“Don’t worry about it!” why she was being so positive when quite clearly your words had cut through her, you had no idea, but you knew she was hurting as much as the other servants were, but she looked worse than all of them.

“Jihyo, you need to eat.”

“I have, I ate bread for lunch, Princess,” she sighed.

-

“Ah, my queen, I wondered when you’d come see me, I’ve been missing you, you know? Today I realised I still haven’t even kissed you.” Yoongi claims, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other he swung around your thighs getting ready to lift you, but you stop him.

“Yoongi you’re king now.”

“Yes.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You need to raise the servants’ wage.” You state. He stays silent, thinking for a moment.

“You know, I was so wrapped up in our stupid little plan to kill my own brother, I didn’t even think about what I would do if I were king.”

“Then figure it out, and then you can kiss me, and marry me too, if you wish.”

You wish Yoongi had figured this all out before so you could be happy together now, but unfortunately for him you won’t be marrying someone who hasn’t even thought of the people of his kingdom, you won’t let him be selfish like his brother.

-

As time goes on and as summer solstice passes you notice the changes, the cheerful workers and servants that pass you, and you can tell Yoongi’s stuck to his word, and this time when you see Jihyo, you’re not worried for the sake of her health, she looks healthy, and she has a ring around her fourth finger.

“Jihyo, is that really you?”

“Princess! You seem much more mature since the last time I’ve seen you.” Jihyo giggles.

“I’m sure I do…is that a ring? Who from? Are you married now?” A sick feeling rises in your stomach, though you knew Yoongi loved you, or had some sort of feelings for you since he still hadn’t properly confessed his love for you, you still couldn’t shake off the fact that Jihyo had marked him at one point, and while it may have been to convince you to leave, the image of it still bothers you.

“Not quite yet, but I’ll be married off by the end of this month to some rich family in the south, I’ll be gone,” a sigh of relief passes through your lips, “though, I will miss you, princess.” Blood rushes to your cheeks, painting them a flowery pink colour.

“I’ll miss you too, I hope your husband treats you well, Jihyo.” You smile at her, knowing that this was Yoongi’s doing, if he hadn’t raised their wages maybe Jihyo would still be looking as sickly and as weak as she was before.

“It is the king’s doing, you know? So maybe you should go see your lover, princess, maybe you’ll be married off by the end of this month, too.”

And maybe you will go see this lover of yours.

-

“My king? I’ve missed you.” You drag out your words to tease Yoongi, watching as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“Can I finally kiss you now? Are you happy with what I’ve done?” He slowly reaches his hands forward and rests them around your waist.

“I saw Jihyo today, she’s getting married off did you know that?” You ask him.

“I didn’t, I haven’t talked to her since…the time in your chambers…” his voices drifts off, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. Yoongi places his fingers under your chin, kissing your forehead, “I’ve never doubted your love for me, I suggest you don’t doubt mine for you either.”

“That’s easy for you, I’ve laid my heart bare for you to see, yet you took advantage of that and played with mine this whole time.”

“I’m sorry for that, my dear, but you know I’m not amazing with women.”

“You were pretty amazing with Jihyo.” You shouldn’t have said that.

“Don’t do that, don’t bring her into this, you know why I did what I did.”

“I don’t want to be played with; your brother did that well to me.”

“If I was my brother I wouldn’t have listened to you. But I did listen and look how happy everyone is.” He’s right, you know he is.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He questions, brushing stray hair strands out of your hair.

“Okay,” you laugh, pushing yourself onto your tippy toes.

Yoongi gently grabs your face, pulling you towards him, and the moment your lips touch; you fall weak at the knees, all that wait was finally worth it as you both fell to the floor stripping off your clothes as you do so, and when Yoongi picks you up to carry you bridal style to his bed, he pauses, muscles tense.

“What’s wrong? If you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask you if you wanted to marry me.”

Needless to say you said yes.

[thesleepy1]

Death’s Imminent Door

A/N: I need more Eskel fics. That’s all. Also, writing prompt from @whumpster-dumpster “Kiss with bruised lips”. There was also, “Dying breath kiss,” and, “Kiss with trembling lips,” but I thought we’ll go for something more light hearted today. I thought, but let this be a warning that I’m not good at fluff. Unbeta’d as always. 

 Pairings: Eskel x Reader

 Summary: You’re injured in a fight defending Eskel’s honor.

 Word count: 1651

 Warnings: Violence, blood, injury, language, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, suggestive language, whump,

 To be fair you shouldn’t have even been there. Eskel had long retired for the night and was peacefully sleeping in the room upstairs. You on the other hand wanted another drink. That was a mistake. 

 Everything was fine for the most part. You enjoyed a tankard, a drop of ale sliding down the corner of your mouth. There was a bard, not Geralt’s, singing in the tavern. Some song about sleeping with a goat or some sort of lucid dream the man had. You weren’t sure and at the time you didn’t really care. 

 “Just like that witcher!” 

 You sobered instantly at the mention of your partner in hand and trail. “What did you just say?!” you slurred, slamming your almost empty tankard down. A tremble shot up your arm but you shook it off, standing as tall as your drunk self could allow. “Say that to my face, bastard!”

 “Oh it’s the witcher’s bed warmer.”  

 “With a dick as big as his, gladly!” You took large strides to the equally drunk man who had dared to taint Eskel’s honor. To your surprise he was the same height and of a smaller build. All talk and no bite. This fight will be easy...unfortunately for you, it was not.

 “Oh, so you admit you spread your legs for that goat fucker!” the man yelled, spit flying out of his mouth. He stank of ale and week old hay, likely a local stable man. 

 “At least he’s not the one letting the horses outside fuck his ass open,” you shot back, an audience growing. The bard was strumming a tone played at debates and tense scenes in plays. He would have gotten on your nerves if you weren’t focused at the scum of the continent in front of you. 

 “What did you just call me?” 

 “Sorry, do you still have horse cu-” 

 Before you knew it a fist came in harsh contact with the side of your face. Too drunk to stay afoot you fall back onto the table behind you. A couple enjoying their date lept in surprise at your semi conscious figure on their dinner. 

 “Too busy getting fucked to learn how to fight?” 

 “No,” you stumbled out, standing on wobbling feet. “Just too busy riding your h-” Another punch came your way but this time you blocked it, twisting his arms and slamming his body on the floor. He groaned and choked out a sob, grabbing onto your unsteady leg. Pulling it forward he brought you down onto the floor with him. 

 Out of the corner of your eye as you fell, a barmaid scurries upstairs to where Eskel rests. “Already cheating on that witcher with the pretty barmaid?” the man brought your attention back to himself. 

 “I wouldn’t dream of it,” you roll yourself on top of him, straddling his torso and sending fist after fist to his face. Your knuckles were bleeding and he was screaming, bloodied face such a beautiful sight. It was a joy before someone roughly pulled you off of him. 

 “Get off of him, you bastard!” a different barmaid shouted, tugging at your arms and for some reason your clothes. 

 “Hold the fucker down,” the man on the floor ordered, slowly pulling himself together with whimpers. Blood was trickling down his neck and his clean shirt was red with it all. You couldn’t help but smirk at your handiwork.

 “What are you smirking at?” 

 “I saw a big stallion in the stable earlier. You were brushing his coat awfully well. One could only think why-” 

 With the new barmaid holding you down and the man on his feet you really should’ve shut up but you couldn’t help it. His fists were smaller than yours but packed the same amount of force. While you enjoyed watching as blood coated his face, smiling even. He was getting angrier and angrier. Each punch was worse than the one before and that was prior to when he brought his booted foot into the mix. 

 Your groans began to fill the tavern but were mostly drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. The bard began a quicker tune, leaping up onto a table to dance. He twirled and sang like you weren’t being beaten to a pulp. The couple whose date you ruined joined the man in the fun, trading hits and cheers.

 The ale in your system helped with most of the pain but you could feel your body going slack. Unconsciousness was edging it’s way into your mind. Sleep seemed like a blissful option in comparison to the beating, but waking up wasn’t guaranteed. 

 Oh wouldn’t that be a sight, Eskel waking up to take a new contract the next town over only to see your unmoving husk of a form on the floor. Dried blood coating your barely recognizable face, your clothes torn and ripped from your still body. You weren’t sure what the barmaid wanted with your clothes but she would probably take them off if given the chance. 

 He would be angry, livid really. Sobbing in the dead of night where no one could judge him. The two of you weren’t the type to constantly tell each other you loved them throughout the day. You showed that with actions. Helping him sharpen his swords, setting up camp, defending his honor in a bar fight. 

 Unable to bear to see his grief stricken face, you hesitantly opened your eyes. They were swollen, that was obvious even without a mirror. And the rest of you wasn’t fairing all that well either, but you were alive. That was something to be proud of. 

 “Oh look, the bed warmer is awake,” the man taunted, taking your tankard and pouring what remained over your head. The ale against your open wounds stung and you gasped, biting your tongue to suppress a scream. 

 “What are you stopping for? I want to mark up this pretty skin,” the barmaid snarled behind you with a grin. The tavern suddenly grew quiet. Even the bard stopped playing, stepping down from the table, his eyes never left what was behind you. 

 Your movement was limited but you managed to look over your shoulder. Eskel in all of his shirtless, disheveled glory was at the foot of the stairs, a glare and the remanence of potions evident on his face. His eyes were a dulling dark gray, the black veins faded but still present. Gods and whoever was listening you wanted him to stare you down as he took you against the wall. Unrelenting in his haste to finish and rough with need. 

 “Lovely evening isn’t it, love,” you greeted nonchalantly, unable to feel your legs.

 “Care to tell me what happened?” Eskel asked in fake calmness. You have been with him long enough to know when he was seconds from stabbing the nearest person in the heart.  

 “Oh nothing much, love. Just some imbecile, horse fucker, baby killing, grime under my foot, bastard decided it was wise to call you some ill choice words in my presence,” you explained, your eyes drooping in an attempt to stay awake. You were alive, you told yourself. Eskel will be fine. You will be fine. Just a night’s rest and you will be as good as new the next morning. 

 “Would you like to tell me who?” his dark gaze swept across the room. Everyone was frozen in their place, smart enough to know when they were at death’s imminent door. 

 “Just her, him, and those two,” you gestured with your eyes but was unsure how much Eskel was able to catch. He could always smell the blood from their bleeding knuckles, so really you had no need to keep your eyes open. “That annoying bard had something to do with it but I can’t remember.” 

 You didn’t have the energy to keep your head on your neck and just let it fall. The barmaid dropped you immediately, but Eskel was quick enough to catch you. He grabbed onto you, his grip a little too tight in sensitive areas but he lightened his hands when he noticed the spike in your heart beat. A growl was building deep within his chest from the sight of your injured form. 

 “I recommend you run while you can,” Eskel spoke to the people in the tavern, already having memorized the faces and scents of the people you pointed out. He’ll give them mercy, a night before he ripped their spines from their backs and their egos from their groins. 

 “Can you stay awake for me, darling?” Eksel whispered to you, his arms underneath your legs and chest. 

 “Only If you’ll have me against the wall,” you mumbled, barely able to sense what was happening. Before you knew it you were in the inn room, a still warm bed underneath your aching body. 

 “Just open your eyes for me, darling,” Eskel forced out a timid chuckle. An ache grew from your chest, and not due to the beating. Your poor witcher was afraid you wouldn’t wake up when the sun came up. He had nothing to worry about. You could still feel the upper half of your body. That was something. 

  “Can’t get enough of my beautiful orbs?” you joked, your voice much weaker than you realized. Some job you did reassuring him, he sounded like he was about to cry. 

 “Never enough.” He planted a soft kiss onto your bruised lips. So caring in your injury, he made sure to not apply too much pressure onto the wounds. 

 Before you woke the next day, because you did, although a bit late into the noon, Eskel had gone out to hunt. Not for food, oh no. For sport. 

 Five bodies laid in the stables for the stable boy to see; the stable man, a couple, a barmaid and a bard with the neck of his gittern through his own neck. 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 09

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of violence

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - It’s about Mr. Williams.

Sebastian’s face creased up, the lines that were rather faint in his skin becoming more prominent as his cerulean eyes lowered to look at the Y/N who was starting to curl up like a silkworm. That was the least of names he wanted to hear, specially the least of names he wanted to hear coming from her lips. The name itself seemed to taint her lips and it didn’t take long for Y/N to realise the atmosphere had shifted into uncharted territory. Sebastian wouldn’t hurt her, right? He had never given her any excuses for her to believe he would hurt her, however the dislike for Mr. Williams was certainly present. 

  - What about Mr. Williams, Y/N? - he spoke in a low tenor, menacing enough to make her feel short.

  - I was just speaking with Gwen ... - Y/N was lying through her teeth, hoping Sebastian wouldn’t ask a lot of questions if she added the heiress’ name to the narrative. He, however, didn’t seem to lower down his defence stance. - You’re not gonna dispose of him, are you?

  - I don’t think I owe you any explanation about my business. Know your place, Y/N. - the words made her heart clench as the once rather warm and comfortable environment seemed to freeze, and Y/N was no longer comfortable. Why would she ask him about his business? Yet, on the other hand why shouldn’t she? She was one of his employees too. 

Y/N’s glance migrated away from him to look at her own hands which were gripping the railings of the balcony. It hadn’t been hard for her notice that he didn’t really like people messing into his business, however, she wasn’t expecting to having been shot down this quickly. It wasn’t like Y/N was a big fan of Thompson Williams, she was just paying him a favour, after all everyone is worth a second shot and he looked scared enough and worried to deserve one. With a shaky breathe, she returned to look at him, observing that the tenseness had not left his face, however it looked like a facade, almost like a mask and she wondered what he hid behind it. 

Without speaking another word, frightful for more hurtful words coming from him, she turned around, feet moving to point towards the door which she walked to, opening it and leaving Sebastian’s suite. So much for the favour mentioned by the sleazy man. Why would he hold any favour towards her when she was a bright reminder that he was fated towards a marriage he didn’t pick? 

Almost like snapped of a daze, Sebastian blinked quite a few times, lingering on the place she had been on before he took off to the hall expecting her not to be fast enough to have already returned to her bedroom. Much to his dismay, the halls of the hotel were empty with only sounds of soft snoring coming from the other bedrooms.

    - Fuck. - he sighed, kicking one of the wall heaters in frustration.

    - Sir. - one of the bodyguards made himself known. - Is everything alright, sir?

    - Yes, Elias. - Sebastian had made particularly important to have trusted bodyguards following Y/N and Gwen around, however, Elias was specially responsible by keeping an eye on Y/N. - Make sure Miss Y/N is alright.

The morning came quickly and like a wound, his words were rather sore on her mind and running wild as she sat down on the hotel’s restaurant to have a lavish restaurant with Gwen. Despite the beautiful refined pastries, cakes, and teas being constantly put in front of her, she was much too lost in her thoughts and regrets over even mentioning Williams’ name in front of Sebastian. 

Another employee set a basket of bread in front of the two girls along with endless glasses of various brightly coloured juices which smelled like they were freshly squeezed fruit juice. The breakfast however went by in seconds, maybe due to Y/N’s relentlessness to overthink every single little thing she had done wrong or maybe due to the fact that regarding the nice climate, Gwen was interested in rushing through breakfast and head out to the pool. In all honesty, a nice day by the pool did sound nice, as long as she were able to read whatever she wanted with no one bothering her. 

It wasn’t like Gwen was gonna go do sight seeing which meant Y/N had to do with what she was given and a peaceful day by the pool sounded well enough. They were taken by the bodyguards to the pool and set off shop in the white and bamboo lounge with a VIP sign glued to. Y/N took place in the shadiest place, opening her book, set it on top of her legs and put her earbuds in, getting lost in instrumental soundtracks and beautifully written novels. 

Sebastian woke up much later than the two women, picking his phone to check if there were any business news and much to his dismay, there were several things he’d had to go over. Before returning to his work, he decided to go check on Gwen, mostly because he was certain Y/N was most likely by his fianceé’s side. And by her side she was, as he stepped onto the pool courtyard he found the very innocent and naíve Y/N scantily clad in a bright red swimsuit in Baywatch fashion. Suddenly, his pants felt tighter and his mind was screaming at him not to look at the handmaid when his future wife was even more scantily dressed than her. 

Y/N noticed his presence, pushing her red rimmed sunglasses down a bit to the bridge of her nose to look at him before pushing them back up and raising her book her. She was definitely upset at him and he couldn’t apologise for his behaviour in front of Gwen. 

Sebastian grabbed his phone from his back pocket, dialling a very familiar number before turning his back on the two girls.

   - I’m gonna need a favour. - he mumbled as he walked away to return to his business. 

   - Y/N! - Gwen poked her handmaid’s arm, making her take her earbuds off and eventually ending her peaceful moment. - Look at those guys, they’re are totally checking us out. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, rotating her head ever to slightly look at the men on the other side on the pool. They looked exactly like the same type of guys she had gone to university with and none of them held a candle to Sebastian. Wait. Why was she comparing them to Sebastian? Of course they looked nothing like the mob boss, they weren’t being apparently closed off about their flirting, were significantly younger and ... well ... they did not look like him. But he was engaged and it was clear he was probably still mad at her. Despite that, Y/N was still not in the mood to play wing woman to Gwen.

   - They are definitely staring at you, Gwen. 

   - Aw, what’s that? Are you saving yourself for someone else or something? 

   - I’m just not in the mood. - she sighed. - Besides, they’re just looking for a passing fancy.

   - A forever romantic, aren’t you? C’mon, is there someone I should know about?

   - I don’t think anyone is interested in me like that, Gwen. 

   - C’mon! Don’t you have someone whose touch lingers a little bit after they’ve done so? - yes. God yes, but that someone whose touch lingered around every time they happened. - If you don’t then there’s some guys clearly interested in talking to us. 

  - You can go, Gweny. You clearly want to go. - Sebastian had left a long time ago, hence why Y/N was rallying her up to do so. Yet, mostly so she could leave her alone which after a while she did, walking up in heels to the group of boys who fanned over her like if she were the impersonation of Venus. After a while of being in the shade reading Dangerous Liasons, Y/N decided to return to her room knowing Gwen was about to retire from the pool herself with one of the boys.

Tired, she put a light and soft white coat on and grabbed her bag before heading to the stairs and onto the lift with Elias constantly on her tail. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to security but ever since Sebastian assigned her own bodyguard to follow her around, it just felt odd. However, thankfully, she only had one compared to the crowd of six that followed Gwen around. 

The lift ride seemed endless when you’re tired but in less than two minutes she was back on her floor and on her bedroom. Throwing her bag onto the bed, she removed the coat and sat down on her duvet, eyes scanning her bedroom until she noticed a black velvety box standing in her dresser. 

  - Elias?- she called out and immediately the man had his head popped into the slight opening of her door. - What is that box?

  - It was left there by the staff. - he shrugged and returned to his position of waiting outside her door.

Curiously, Y/N paced to her dresser, looking at the box as if it were an explosive device before her hands brushed against the velvety material of the box. She didn’t know what it was but whatever it was, it was well packaged in a very expensive looking box. Suspiciously, she opened the box where a note in beige coloured paper was standing on top of a velvet bag. She took the paper in her hands, turning it around to see a rushed yet somehow pleasing handwriting. I’m sorry. S.S. x

Sebastian. Her tummy filled with butterflies as she felt the heat creep onto her cheeks. Placing the card on the table, she grabbed the velvet bag which was slightly heavier than expected and once she opened it to check the contents of it, she couldn’t help but smile at what she saw. It was exactly the same as she remembered, in the same beautiful pure white colour with golden accents. She opened the top of the music box and out came the melody she knew too well accompanied with the crystal ballerina and the Paris landscape.

Without much of a thought, she rushed out of her door and to the front of Sebastian’s suite door, knocking on it rather forcefully.

   - Miss Y/N, Mr. Stan isn’t taking any visits right now. - one of his bodyguards rather rudely spoke down to her.

   - I’m sorry, I just really need to speak with him. - she held the music box close to her chest. - Please. 

   - I’m afraid you didn’t hear me correctly. - his hand wrapped around her wrist, pushing her away from the door and into the middle of the hall. - No visits now.

   - Could you please let him know that I want to speak with him. Please. 

   - Listen, Miss Y/N, I see you’re used to experience the same type of privilege as Miss Forrest but you’re an employee and as an employee you schedule appointments and behave like an employee. Are we understood? 

   - Yes. - she looked down, shifting her weight from side to side. 

   - Unhand Miss Y/N this second. - the colour from his face drained as his hand lost its grip on her wrist. She looked up to see a very unhappy Sebastian with his arms crossed across his chest and, like a shy child, tip toed over behind him as he condemned the bodyguard. - You are not to touch Miss Y/N without her permission or I’ll cut your fucking hands off. Do you hear me?

  - Yes, sir. - Y/N was fascinated by how he didn’t need to scream and how he just kept a grip over power unseen to her. Before she could even process what had just happened, Sebastian placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her back to his suite before closing the door behind them. 

  - You should’ve called out for me when you knocked. - his gaze lowered to the music box in her hands. - I see you’ve got my gift. I’m so sorry for the way I treated you last night.

  - This is the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me. I can’t believe you remembered. - her fingers traced the pattern on the music box, smiling mindlessly. - Thank you so much, Sebastian. I don’t know ... I don’t even know how to repay the favour. 

    - It’s a gift, angel. You really should stop trying to repay gifts. - his hand grazed over her forearm. The lingering touch, there is was, and she couldn’t help but stare into his cerulean eyes. - I wasn’t in my best behaviour last night and I wanted to apologise. 

Y/N softly smiled, all the worries from last night fading away as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug which took him by surprise. She had put her music box by the side and Sebastian stood there not entirely sure what to do with himself, all he knew is that it felt good to have her in his arms in a way like nothing else ever felt. The hug seemed too short as both of them pulled away, staring into each other’s eyes until the magnetism just became too much for any of them to handle and as if she were bewitched she leaned forward, connecting her lips to his in what felt like the blooming of various emotions she was yet to experience. 

It’s really something.

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