#and i was gonna watch the what ifs and rolleds and everything

[pulchrasilva]

Ummmm thought about bitb. Gonna throw up

[ridingthatd]

❝𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎❞

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

manipulative!geto ✘ fem!reader

summary: geto is one of your innocent friends, what happens when you get stuck in a cabin with him alone since your boyfriend gojo can't make it?, will he stay so innocent?

warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, cabin sex, perv!geto, fingering, squirting, nastiness, geto gets what he wants, gojo is your boyfriend, manipulation, obsession.

today is the day. today is the day geto will get what he wants. today is the day geto will get what he dreamed of. today is the day geto gets to live his little nasty fantasy. today is the day geto will finally get to feel your soft, plump body against his- that's if, if only if everything goes according to his plan, and be demanded getos plans will always work.

"ah here you are suguru!" you slowly wave your hand at geto as he makes his way toward your cabin, the cabin where you and gojo have been living for the past few months, he would be lying if he said he isn't jealous of his dear childhood friend. keeping you all to himself. gojo and geto have always shared everything, even the stupid childish dream about living without curses- they both shared it, so what about you? why is saturo so selfish that he can't share you with him?.

part of geto doesn't blame his friend because if he had you. he would split the ocean in half before giving you to anyone.

geto smiles softly at you. waving back, he smiles even wider once he sees the way you're hopping from leg to leg- clearly just as excited as he is to meet you.

"careful y/n don't want you hurting yourself on my watch." he speaks out once he's in a close distance to get a good look at the gorgeous goddess in front of him, cheeks flushed from hopping around, grinning from ear to ear, hair slightly messy because of the cold breeze that's hitting both of you.

you playfully role your eyes "don't worry suguru I'm a grown woman, of course i wouldn't hurt myself in such a silly way like you do." getos cheeks flush remembering the embarrassing moments of him being clumsy around you.

"aw your ears are getting red no need to be embarrassed geto" you say while gently rubbing his ear between your finger tips- trying to rub his redness away. getos breath hitch this little act of yours, you have no idea- no idea what you do to your so called "sweet" suguru.

"im not embarrassed, it's just because it's cold outside" geto mumbles, you let out a little mhm while you move your hand away folding them close to your body, making your breast slightly peark up."if you so say, now get inside don't want you catching a cold on my watch" you say teasingly micking him- now it's his turn to roll his eyes at you.

both of you make it inside the warm cabin, it wasn't to small or to big, it was just enough the perfect size for two new happy couple. it was the perfect size to cuddle and fuck in, if geto was the one with you here- he would have fucked you in every inch of this cabin, print his cock in you everywhere, claim you in every inch so everytime he isn't here, you would remember the way he fucked you in every corner- but today there isn't ifs because he's gonna make it happen, after all he's geto.

you happily sip the last bit of the soup geto has made for both you.

"I didn't know you were a chef suguru- I guess every day the huge brain of yours learn something new". geto blushes a little before snorting at your little comment about his brain "it's nothing special, it's just a soup recipe I learned from my grandpa, that he used to make when I was sick" he says while staring at the way you happily rub at your cute little tummy, that he has noticed grew a little since the last time he saw you- it's not that he minds oh no it makes him more eager to touch you- to squeeze your little stomach while he eats you out, holding you in place by your tummy.

"still it made both of me and my baby happy" you say cheekly not realizing what you just said till geto drops his spoon.

"y... your baby?" geto repeats making sure he heard you right, making you realize what you just said- your eyes widen and you stand up quickly making the chair you were sat on fall with a thud.

"NO- oh god no im not pregnant or anything!" you hurriedly say as if geto thinking your pregnant is your hugest fear, he stare at you confused.

"then why did you-" he was cut off by you "it's just me and gojo been acting as if im pregnant and saying cheesy stuff-" you say as if that makes any sense "I don't know why but it's been gojos new thing to act as if im pregnant so it just rubbed off on me I guess" you mumble hoping the big guy would understand what you mean- you finally got the courage to look up at him, and it catches you off surprise what you see- you have never seen geto with such a dark expression on his face, he was clenching his hand into a fist under the table. you were not sure what to say.

so that's what gojo been up to huh. breeding his lovely y/n. trapping you so he won't be able to have you. the thought of that made geto fume in rage, how many times have gojo fucked you and breed you full with his cum? how many times have gojo planted his seed inside of you pretending to impregnate you? geto won't let this happen, and tonight he will make sure of it. by marking his seed inside of you before gojo gets to steal that from him.

"it's.. it's fine it just got me off guard that you guys would have kept something as big as you being pregnant from me" geto stares at you with sad eyes- he has to keep the innocent act till he gets what he wants, he wasn't entirely lying. it would make him really upset if you guys kept such thing hidden from him.

"no no no no suguru- you know you would be the first person we would tell if that ever happens right?" you say panickly "yea I know".

soon after the sun has disappeared and a gloomy dark weather has appeared- you had always since childhood hated rain and thunder, of course geto knew that- this is why he's here today. this is why he made a specific plan to be here at this time, at this weather, and mostly at a time where gojo wouldn't be around.

you stare at the window as your hear the soft drops of rain starting to fall- you frown "saturo won't make it today with such weather" you worriedly say and of course geto knew that I mean after all it was part of his plan-"yea looks like it".

loud thunder and heavy rain sounds fill the room. under the darkness of this room it lights up each time. after every thunder to, show a glimpse of you and geto laying together with only 1 blanket. 1 pillow. 1 bed.

"im sorry geto-its just... you know i can't handle the thunder" you softly whipser, shuffling next to him. of course again geto knew that, he knew that you would get scared to be alone in your room, he knew that you'd come to him seeking for comfort, and he knew he would give you that with no hesitation.

"it's alright. it's just like back when we were kids right?" geto mumbles shifting to turn around and look at your curled up back shivering from discomfort of the loud thunder. he slowly stretch his arms towards you. fingers itching to feel the warmth of you, once he reachs you- you stiff unsure how to feel about that "geto-" you were cut off by him shushing you gently while hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

"shhhh it's okay. im here everything is going to be okay" he softly rock you against his chest-pressing your whole body warmth against his and god it felt so good to have you this close. finally he thought while pressing his nose against your hair- taking a deep breath of the cherry smell of your hair. finally he thought again. finally he can have you while slowly trailing his nose against your ear going lower and lower. finally he thought once more. finally he can get to mark his sweet little y/n.

"geto-" you breath out once more, feeling your childhood friend press his front against you- gently sucking your earlobe in his mouth, coating it with his warm spit.

"what are you doing-" you gently tug, trying to escape his grasp- not realizing you accidentally rubbed your ass on his already ragging hard on. geto hiss, realising your now spit-covered earlobe from his mouth "careful- don't want me cumming in my pants just yet". you gasp you have never thought such a dirty words would come out of your dark haired innocent friend.

a loud thunder seems to snap you out to reality, you flinch at how loud it was- you couldn't even fully react because geto was already shushing you and gently rubbing your belly. "shhh it's okay baby I know, I know just let me take care of this okay hm? let me make you forget about this- you don't have to do anything just lay close to me while I make you feel so so so good, that you won't have to worry about the silly little thunder hm?"

you were confused, scared, shakey about what's happening this is why you hated rainy days because they always make you go blank- weak can't do anything, you didn't even realize that you were crying until you felt geto licking away a tear that dropped from your eye. his tongue felt warm and wet against your cold cheek.

"aw my little baby- don't cry I will take care of you, don't worry" he gently whispered still soothing your belly the only difference is that his hands are now under your shirt- making skin to skin contact with it. his hand felt so warm and comforting that you simply just sniffle and node to scared and confused to do anything else.

"such a good girl for me" geto mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.

he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.

he starts sucking on your delicate neck drung off the smell of you, as he rubes gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.

he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.

he suddenly flips you into your back- him on top of you, earning a gasp out of you- you finally caught a look at him. he didn't look like the sweet geto you knew, he looked like an animal waiting to rut, his hair is messy, cheeks flushed, drool leaving his mouth and coating his puffy red lips. you couldn't help your gaze going down- he was huge who knew geto could hold such a weapon between his legs.

Impatiencly he slides your shorts and underwear off- he couldn't wait more to take a look at the sweet puffy pussy of yours. once it was free he left out a long groan- head dropping to take a closer look while hooking your legs around his shoulder.

"fuck y/n- look what the sight of your wet pussy do to me" he shakily says palming his dick out of his boxers. he was indeed huge, the long distance between the darkish hair around his base and the top but what caught your attention is the hot pink head and the white percum leaking out of it. it was a breathtaking sight you couldn't deny.

geto is shaking- he doesn't know why. is he shaking from excitement. is he shaking from how nasty he is. is he shaking because he knows it's fucked up or is he shaking because he can't wait to eat the wet creamy pussy in front of him- he doesn't waste any more time and dig right into his meal.

the thunder is long gone. it stopped and the only sound left in this room was the wet, sucking and licking sounds your pussy is geto slowly raise his head, you thought he was finished but the way he holds your eyes tells you something different- he maintain eye contact while slowly spitting, letting the drool leave his mouth and land directly on your clit. this time it was you who couldn't hold out your moan. once he started to suck on your clit again it's over for you.

you squirt all over his face, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- geto couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.

your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest y/n because we're not done yet".

[justporo]

My head can't stay quiet... I don't think I can ever write all these ideas out into a longer form that they deserve. But I'm gonna share them with you anyways. (Spoilers ahead!)

So, I've come to think: If Astarion makes a move on Tav in Act1, and they say "nah" because they might sense something might be up or really they are just so tangled in all the other shit, that it's not the right moment although they would be interested in Astarion basically. Lots of tension ensues, lots of bickering and teasing.

But when Tav learns more about Astarion they wouldn't push the topic either because this vampire needs a friend, hugs and a shoulder to cry on - not a roll in the sheets.

And they move on like that, tension's still there but being friends is their top priority- also getting this mess sorted out.

They go on, do all the stuff and finally after everything is resolved, Astarion's free and so is the city, you've become really incredible friends - although this one thing is still kind of up in the air (they've never even kissed).

So, you sit in a tavern after everything, just the two of you. And drink and joke and talk - and all of a sudden realise: wait, all the stuff that we thought and said would need to be sorted out... is sorted out?

"Gods, I'm really happy all these problems have been resolved", you say and take another deep drink of your beer. "Most definitely! Except this one certain tension never got resolved. Shame really, but it might've been for the best", Astarion answers and watches you carefully while rolling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers.

"What te-... oh, that. Hah yes, I mean with all the stuff going on, with you too especially. I mean, ugh, can you imagine if we had piled another matter on there?", you laugh although the thought of what you'd might have shared with the vampire - be it only physical or something more - makes you yearning.

"Well, like you said, good thing all this stuff has been resolved", Astarion says slowly and takes an awfully long drink of his wine. His eyes never leave yours.

And then his meaning clicks into place for you - hitting you like a bolt of lightning. There was absolutely nothing standing in your way to find out what these "what-ifs" could have been.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 24

Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! <3

Summary: When two girls fell into Middle Earth, excited at the prospects of living through their all time favourite novel, they find things are not as they seem. Something is watching them, as if they're being dared to reveal their secrets. How will they survive the challenges of the journey, dealing with the darkness that follows them, alongside certain two princes who are fascinated at everything they do, and a brooding, grumpy king who begins to suspect that they aren't telling the whole truth.

Where were they from, really? They did take the rabbit hole down, after all.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 4038

Warnings: Swearing.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 23 // Chapter 24 // Chapter 25 >

Part 3: Chapter 24 -

30 Different Ways To Fuel Yourself Off Of False Hope.

Kismet (Definition): A hypothetical force or personified power that determines the course of the future events. Fate, Destiny.

(Noun / Origin: Old Turkish / kis·​met)

Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Tuesday, 26th April 2941 of the Third Age (Trewsday, 6th Thrimidge, 1341 in Shire-reckoning)

Waking up on the day we had spent over a year of our lives waiting for was certainly less invigorating than I assumed it to be.

A month ago I would have been practically vibrating in my seat, beaming with enthusiasm at the thought of my favourite story come-to-life happening, and that I would be able to take part in it firsthand. Now that feeling had been flung out the window, my jitters of excitement were replaced with nervous ones. Sickness and dread filling the empty pit of my stomach as my mind filled with all the ‘what ifs?’

What if they don’t let us come? What if Gandalf can’t convince them? He’s already gonna have a hard time trying to get Thorin to understand that Bilbo is – somewhat – capable of surviving and adapting to the wild.

What if they start yelling about women not being strong enough and how mad they are that Gandalf told us about a ‘secret’ mission? And I start crying because I can’t handle yelling and being rejected which will make them even MORE stubborn about not letting us come? Even if they did let us come, would Thorin sulk and hate us for months?

Oh God.

What if HE doesn’t like me?

My eyes unconsciously dragged over to the bow leant against the corner of the parlour as my thoughts drifted to him. Blurry flashes of wavy brown hair and a cheeky smile danced across my vision. I let in a deep breath, before frantically pushing the waking nightmares of all the insecurities and terrible outcomes that would possibly happen this evening into the depths at the back of my mind.

Giving my head a small shake and rolling my shoulders, I returned my sights to the piece of paper on the table in front of me. I bounced my leg erratically, spinning the quill in my hand between my fingers and staring at my looping handwriting with vigorous intent, but barely taking a word in.

About an hour ago, in order to try and take my mind of things and rid my stomach of it’s sickening feeling, I had started a checklist. A feeble attempt of a distraction to try and use the attention of my already racing mind to guess the contents of what I was bringing, rather than dwell on the probability of my year-long plans collapsing before me.

I had also spent my morning trying to find comfort, and enjoy everything the best I could, making sure to not take everything around me for granted as I had realised today could be the last official day that we enjoyed comfort. A proper bed, proper meals, a steady routine, and the reassuring bubble of safety and peace the Shire gave. The thought of leaving it all behind made me want to tear up.

Despite my distraction attempt, I found myself constantly glancing out the open window in front of me, my nerves having woken me up just before dawn, and I had sat here by candlelight long enough to watch the sun rise and the birds begin their morning call. Now the candle was extinguished, smoke wisps trailing up and out the window into the crisp spring air, the wax beginning to harden as I leant back in the wooden chair, thankful for the cushion studded onto its base.

It was still relatively early, and I figured it was only about 6am, not bothering to get up and double check the grandfather clock in the other room. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I spent the next hour extending the checklist, until Kay stumbled in, copper hair and nightgown askew, mumbling about how my shuffling had woken her up too early for her comfort. Leaning back in my seat, I watched (as another distraction attempt) Kay, whose eyes were still slightly swollen and half-glued together by sleep, as she felt around for the kettle, hanging it on its hook above the fireplace before clumsily setting some wood down and lighting it on fire with her wand.

Slumping onto one of the dining chairs, she rested her forehead in her hand, groaning with fatigue weighing on her figure.

“What time is it?” she mumbled, eyes closed as she looked ready to fall asleep again.

Turning back to the window, I lifted my feet onto the chair tucking my own nightgown over my legs as I stared out at the glowing, orange beams of the morning sun that cut through the clouds and trees. “Like 7? I haven’t checked since I got up.” I answered, hooking my chin over my knees.

“What time did you get up?” she yawned.

“Uhh,” I squinted, watching a deer drink from the river down at the bottom of the hill whilst everyone still slept. “I think it was quarter to five? I couldn’t get back to sleep cuz of today.”

“Jesus Christ.” Kay breathed as she got up and joined me at the parlour table, brushing a hand through her knotted hair. “The hell have you been doing this whole time?”

“Anything but thinking.” I sighed, seeing Kay curiously reach over and drag the piece of parchment I had been writing my checklist on towards her.

“About today?” she suggested, twisting her head to scan the words.

“About everything that could go wrong.” I groaned, leaning my head back to glare at the ceiling.

“Now why are you worrying about that?” she vocalised, pushing the paper back to me as she leant on her elbows. “The worst that could happen is that they say no, and then we – plus Gandalf – simply gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss Thorin into being a feminist and letting us come.”

Snorting in amusement, I lowered my head back down, absentmindedly scratching my fingernail against the texture of the parchment. “How’re you so calm about this?” I questioned, glancing up at a suspiciously mellow-looking Kay, despite the craziness of her fresh-out-of-bed appearance.

She shrugged. “Honestly? I think I’m disassociating so hard that my brain simply doesn’t have the capacity to conjure up anything other than the fact I’m about to meet my future husband.” She simply explained, a cheshire grin wide on her face.

“Oh Christ alive.” I agonised, leaning forward on my elbows and proceeded to drop my face into my hands. “I forgot about that.”

“And you’re about to meet yours~” she sing-songed, prodding at the hands hiding my face. I let out a strained laugh, both amusement and anxiety ridden between. “You already made some odd noises when you had to deal with meeting Gandalf, I can’t wait to see what on Earth you’ll sound like when you meet him.”

“C’mon Kay, it’s not like I’m gonna marry the guy!” I whined in anguish, dropping my head from my hands and onto the table. “I barely have a crush on someone who is technically a complete stranger who I know next to nothing about. Look at what happened with Bilbo! We’ve watched the movies hundreds of times and we never knew stuff like how he preferred fried eggs over poached until we ended up here!” I was basically sobbing my smushed face into the wood at this point.

Twisting my head so I could face Kay, I looked up at her with wide, wet eyes. “What if he turns out to be nothing like I expected or he finds me weird?” I muttered pathetically.

Within a flash, Kay had rolled up my piece of parchment, and swatted my head with an outraged expression. “Have you forgotten his apparent type?? Miss ‘5’9 potential model who’s been mistaken for an elf multiple times??’ He’s gonna walk in, take one look at you and have the fattest fucking aneurysm, because we are the hottest people in history to exist in Middle Earth.” She paused in thought for a moment. “Except for Galadriel of course. Can’t disrespect my milf wife like that.” She patted her hand over her heart and blew a kiss out the window.

Huffing a laugh, I took another glance out the open window, spotting the mail-hobbit-man as he began his morning route. “What on Earth do I even say to them all?” I almost whimpered, beginning to spiral. “What if they get weirded out about how well we remember all their names??”

“Alright, stop.” Kay emphasised with another swat at my head. “You’ve got a whole day to get through before dealing with that, so before you send us both into a mental breakdown, let’s go get ourselves ready so they don’t walk in on us looking like a hundred year-old mops.”

As soon as the words left Kay’s mouth, Bilbo stumbled in scratching his nose whilst he made use of the preboiled kettle. “Market trip today.” He declared halfway through a yawn, stretching his arms up. “Need some fish and veg for tonight’s dinner and whatnot.” Sliding into the chair beside us with a fresh cup of chamomile, he took in the morning scenery through the window with a content sigh, seeming to have completely forgotten (or forced himself to) about yesterday’s affairs. Shifting his head, he gave us both a once over. “Fancy coming?”

--

The sereness of Bilbo’s mood that morning had been shot into the stratosphere when the clock hit half nine. I hadn’t missed the strain that had begun to grow in the hobbit’s smile the closer he got to swinging his blue coat on, and by the time we were out the door, his face had dropped completely.

Despite his much smaller stature, we found ourselves jogging to keep up with the frantic hobbit as he practically jogged down to the market, head swivelling around like an owl as his eyes determinedly scanned everything they landed on.

Settling into a speed-walk, I sidled up next to him as he continued to scurry on, leaning down to keep my voice lower. “I doubt Gandalf’s gonna be hiding out in the market waiting to scare you, Bilbo.” I attempted to reassure, knowing full well the wizard was still off somewhere collecting our not-so-unexpected guests. “There’s no need to worry so much.”

Bilbo blinked up at me, forcing a bewildered look upon his face. “Worried?!” He scoffed, faking a chortle. “Why on Earth would I be worried? Hahaa…”

“Because you look as nervous as a mouse about to steal a crate-full of cheese right under someone’s nose.” Chimed in Kay as she caught up on Bilbo’s other side.

“Mouse–?” Was all he could sputter out in offense to being compared to the rodent before he sprung a foot in the air, startled when another hobbit called out to him, wishing a good-morning. Opening his mouth, he went to retort, but his mind seemingly ran elsewhere, and he simply spun on the spot to march over the stone bridge ahead.

Giving each other knowing looks, Kay and I trailed not so long after, mixing into the throng that was the Tuesday morning market. Kids scurried after each other with shouts and screams, looping around us until they took off in another direction.

Lifting my head, I took in the scene before me. Hobbit-men roaring with laughter as they puffed out smoke-rings under the tents and pavilions scattered around, a hobbit-woman thanking someone as she received a payment at her market stall, handing over a sack of whatever the other hobbit bought with a grin moments later. Snapshots of the everyday lives of some of the most peaceful creatures in Middle Earth, and I knew I was going to miss it.

Zoning back in, I brought my gaze further down, to where it landed on the back of Bilbo’s coat as he conversed (though rather distractedly) with one of the local fisher-hobbits, thanking him as he was handed his packaged goods – I presumed it was the fish he had spent the last 24 hours raving about not getting.

As Bilbo continued around the market, Kay and I temporarily went our separate ways, grabbing a few final things to stick in our bags. Meeting back about a quarter of an hour later, we spotted Bilbo who seemed to be trying to hurry back, eager to return to Bag End with his now-full basket of goods. Peering over his shoulder, he surveyed around until he caught our eye, and gestured for us to follow.

Jogging forwards, we hurried to catch up, only to slow down to a stop as Bilbo’s path was blocked by who we recognised to be Master Worrywort, his appearance giving a sense of Deja vu. Hauling his wheelbarrow stacked with produce, the older hobbit paused as he spotted Bilbo, his eyes lighting up.

“Hello, Mr Bilbo! Ah! And of course the lovely ladies.” He greeted us all, reaching into the pile in his wheelbarrow to pull out a very large-round vegetable that looked like a weird cross between a potato and a turnip. “Here!” He held it up in front of Bilbo. “Have a feel of me tubers.” Reluctantly, but willing to appease him, Bilbo briefly gave the vegetable a touch. Glancing up, Master Worrywort eagerly gestured it towards us. “Nice and firm they are. Just came in from West Farthing!” We both reached to politely prod and pinch at it for a moment, giving satisfied nods.

“Very impressive, Master Worrywort.” Bilbo complimented, eager to shift the conversation along. “Now, I don’t suppose you’ve seen a wizard lurking about these parts?” He asked, squinting against the sun as he gave the marketplace a once-over for the hundredth time.

Master Worrywort frowned in thought, placing the vegetable back in his barrow. “Tall fellow?” He suggested. Bilbo went to reply, when something caught his eye, his face paling as the other hobbit took no notice and carried on. “Long grey beard, pointy hat? Can’t say I have.”

Looking over my shoulder, I spotted the basket of grey wool that was being carried behind some of the stalls, my height making it easy to decipher that it was, in fact, not a wizard. Turning around, I went to assure Bilbo, only to find he had already taken off before Master Worrywort had finished speaking. The three of us scanned the area in confusion, looking for the missing hobbit.

“Where’d he go?” Wondered Master Worrywort.

Continuing to peer around for Bilbo, Kay answered. “Christ knows. He hasn’t been feeling himself lately.” She lied – though it wasn’t completely so.

Unbothered, Master Worrywort simply shrugged, before tipping his straw hat and bidding us adieu. The second he picked up the handles of his wheelbarrow to carry on, we shot off, crossing the bridge to see Bilbo step out, a dazed look on his face. Checking behind me, I saw that the basket of grey wool had revealed itself to be nothing but that.

“C’mon.” I sighed, patting the weary hobbit on the shoulder. “Take yourself back home and grab some tea and a book, then relax. Me and Kay are gonna run some errands.”

Still staring behind us, Bilbo nodded, not moving until we gave him a slight nudge, and off he went stumbling back up the hill with his basket.

Once he was in the distance and we were sure he wasn’t about to have a nervous break, the two of us spun on our heels and crossed back over the bridge, taking the path to the stables.

--

“You’re leaving?? Why?!”

Bertie looked up at us with wide eyes, clouded with confusion as he absorbed the news.

“We’re going travelling for a bit.” Kay offered, which technically wasn’t a lie. “Might see if we can find our families.”

He gave a slow nod. “Is Bilbo going with you?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, but paused, realising that despite the future events on the horizon being very much canon, Bilbo still had free will and the right to refuse to come.

“Maybe.” I suggested. “We’ll have to see.”

“Well I hope he does!” he exclaimed, looking almost saddened at the thought of Bilbo not going. “He’s awfully fond you both, y’know.”

Blinking, I glanced at Kay, only to see her respond in a similar way.

“Right.” Stated Bertie with a clap and a rub of his hands, startling us back into focus. “If you are both going, I wish you both the best of luck.” He gave us a warm smile, which quickly morphed into a tired one. “But for the love of Yavanna, please take those… beasts with you.” He pleaded in exasperation, gesturing at Calhourn and Hecate who were munching on a hay bale in the corner of the building. The latter raised her head to fix poor Bertie with a very prominent stare, and the hobbit shifted back a few steps, grumbling and cursing under his breath as he went to prepare their saddles and the rest of their equipment.

--

The sun was at its highest point in the sky by the time we started to head back to Bag End, our half-explanation for leaving having been given to the stable owner, who had kindly insisted that our jobs would still be here whenever we came back. Now we were halfway there, and I was panicking when I had realised I had forgotten to do something I considered rather important.

“Ah crap!” I cried. “I still need to write the letters!”

Kay glanced over at me, brows furrowed. “Whatever are you needing to write letters for?” She questioned.

“I need to write to whoever’s going to presume Bilbo dead and try to sell out Bag End!” I exclaimed, and Kay’s brows rose in realisation. “Otherwise he’s gonna come back to one hell of a nasty surprise. Oh! And also one for Gladiola to say we’re leaving and that she’ll have to find other babysitters, and whoever is–uh-crap –”

Kay quickly grasped my shoulder, swiftly brining my stressed rambling to a halt. “Girlie you’re going to give me a heart attack with how much you’re stressing out!” She breathed. “How about, when you get back, I’ll find out whoever does the house auctions and you write the Gladiola. Then we’ll see if anyone else needs one as well.”

I nodded silently, refusing to speak anymore in case everything came out uncontrollably in front of the shrew-faced Lobelia Sackville-Baggins that was sneering up at us from her front garden when we pattered by.

Reaching the front door of Bag End, I sped ahead of Kay, eager to snatch some parchment and a quill, then ran to my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

--

Reading over then re-reading again, I double checked the letters now fully completed in front of me. Kay had slipped in earlier, sliding over a small shred of paper that had the address of the hobbit that would be auctioneering in a couple years’ time when everyone would think Bilbo to be missing and most likely dead. The other one was for Gladiola, explaining – but not giving away too much – about what was going on, apologising for the last minute notice, but pleading that no one tries to sack Bag End (‘punch the Sackville-Bagginses for us, if you must’ I had underlined boldly).

Sealing each letter with a wax seal, along with the box of little gifts and knick-knacks Kay had precured for the Greenfoot’s as part of the apology, I gathered everything up, and slipped out of my bedroom window as quietly as I could.

The evening had begun to settle in when I hurried down the hill, the sun turning the sky into a flurry of oranges and purples as I tried not to trip over any grass mounds. Minutes later, when I had reached the house of the Greenfoot’s, I peered through the small window by the door from where I was stood behind the gate. The candles were lit, but no silhouettes came into view, so I quickly twisted the handle of the letterbox, the handprints of paint we had helped the kids stamp on still yet to be tarnished by the weather, and I felt guilt creep up in the pit of my stomach.

Before I could turn any more miserable, I hissed out a curse when the lid let out a creak. Shoving the parcel and letters (I had asked Gladiola in her letter to deliver the other one) into the box, I gently eased the lid back up, thankful it hardly made a squeak. Glancing up at the window, I jumped when I spotted Gladiola, but let out a sigh of relief when I realised her back was turned.

Without a second thought, I dashed off, skipping the paths as I took a beeline straight up, resulting to crawling on all fours up the steep parts at some points. Reaching the top, I turned around, taking in one of the last views of Hobbiton beneath the final rays of the vanishing sun with a weary sigh. With a stretch of my back, I went to walk towards my window, when my eyes were drawn to a short but unusual looking shape in the distance. Squinting, I watched as it made its way through one of the paths between the crop fields near the outskirts on the other side of town.

“I know that silhouette…” I thought to myself, before my eyes widened and I let out a gasp.

Dashing round the bend to my open window, I narrowly missed a drunk hobbit as he stumbled along swigging from the flagon of wine in his hand. I practically dove through, earning myself several bruises along my arms and legs as I clumsily battered them against the furniture whilst I struggled to clamber to my feet.

Sprinting across the floorboards, I almost slipped several times as I hauled my bedroom door open and bent over to avoid the beams as I half-jogged/half-stumbled through the hallway in my woolly socks, grasping the wood lining the archway to the kitchen to skid to a stop. Though that didn’t stop me from headbutting the chandelier.

“Ah, fuck!” I cursed, rubbing at my forehead before I ducked through.

Kay was staring up at me confused from where she sat at the kitchen table, quill poised to continue scribbling away at whatever was on the parchment in front of her until I interrupted. Bilbo was across from her, bent over the stove as he prodded and flipped the fish on the pan in front of him, too used to our antics at this point to bother looking up.

“Evening jog?” Kay muttered, keeping her voice quieter than the sizzling of the cooking food as I flopped down next to her.

Chest still heaving, I turned to look at her. “Huh?” I furrowed my brows.

She gestured at my face with the quill. “You’re cheeks’re pink and your hair’s frazzled.”

Sitting back, I absentmindedly reached up to pat down my face and hair. “Went to deliver the stuff.” I breathed. “Then decided to climb up the hill and ran when I saw someone in the distance.”

Kay’s eyes widened, and she took a glance at the still distracted hobbit. Giving me a look to show she understood, she returned to her parchment when Bilbo swivelled around, taking turns picking up the three plates that already had the boiled slices of carrot and potato ready to go, along with a small bundle of herbs, to shovel a freshly fried trout onto each one.

Sliding a plate in front of the two of us, we picked up our silverware as Bilbo tightened the sash round his waist that held his dressing gown over his night-time robes. Settling down in his seat, the hobbit let out a content sigh.

He glanced up at us with a smile. “So,” He started, tucking a napkin into his collar. “What did you two get up to in town after I went home early?” He asked as he reached over to take a pinch of seasoning from the tiny wooden bowl between us.

The two of us stiffened, watching intently as Bilbo began to season his food in an all-too familiar way.

And that was when the doorbell rang.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Chapter 23 // Chapter 24 // Chapter 25 >

Return to Fic Masterlist

Return to Navigation

See you soon for Chapter 25! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @saturnnie-03 @emstar07 @geewoo-ko @phanryesworld @stuckupstucky @rebeccao03 @wiccan-potato24 @ellessecretobsession @thepixiechicks @triostarz @breadbrobin @mamajaxx2511 @marnikula @autumn-euphony @maple-and-bunny

(Message me if your tag isn’t working)

[beewithknee]

of feelings and memories

day 4 of redactober 2023 !

(genderbent) sam/darlin'

For the first time in years, Darlin’ smiled as they woke up. Burying their nose in the sheets, they smiled at the bittersweet scent of coffee and peaches. Something so uniquely her.

Their sheets smelt like Samantha. Like comfort. Like home.

They rolled over, smile immediately dropping at the cold sheets they were met with. Where was the warm body they’d gotten so used to waking up next to?

“Sam?” They called out, hoping she’d come reclaim her rightful spot. The empty silence they were greeted with sent warning bells through their whole body. Their mate always let them know when she was leaving. A text, a note, anything.

“Samantha? You home?” They called once more, feet swinging over to hit the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

They shrugged on a hoodie, trudging the long hallways of Samantha’s house.

The open back door that greeted them didn’t bode well. The sun was up. Sam was nowhere to be found. Fuck.

“Samantha?!” They yelled desperately. Hoping for any sign of life from their missing mate. “Where the fuck are you? This isn’t funny. Please.” They barely breathed the last word out, heart thundering with anxiety.

They scoured every inch of her large backyard, finding no trace of her. They shifted, senses far more enhanced in that form. The scent of peaches was faint. Present but likely hours old, back when it was still dark out.

Thank god.

In the depths of the house, they heard a door click. The front door. 

Sam.

Their nails clicked loudly against the wooden floors as they scrambled through the house. Paintings shook as they bounded down the corridor.

There she stood, arms raised as she took her large sun hat off. She was wearing their flannel.

In the recesses of their mind, they registered that that was something she only did when truly upset and needing comfort.

They didn’t bother shifting back as they reached her, nose immediately pushing all over her body. Desperate to find any wounds she may have hidden away by the jeans and flannel.

“Wow dog-breath. Calm down. Hey, Darlin, what’s wrong?” She stopped, voice tired but a light smile on her lips. Her deep blue eyes shone with worry. Crouching, she cupped their face between her hands and pressed their foreheads together.

The immediate release of tension had them shifting back. She let it happen, staying at her spot by their side. “I woke up and you were gone. The back door was open. I thought-“ They shuddered at their mental patterns.

“Oh Darlin’ I’m sorry. No, it just wasn’t a good morning so I went for a drive. I was hoping I’d be back by the time you were up.” She explained gently. They rose, picking her up and trudging back into the bedroom. She laughed as they flung her down on the bed before scooting in on top of her.

“You only love me for my boobs, huh?” She teased, scratching gently at their back. “Oh duh, look at them.” They poked gently, watching as the flesh moved.

Odd but alright.

She smiled, kissing their head. “Why was your morning bad?” “Oh. It was nothing.”

“Sam, you only drive when your head won’t quit. Talk to me, c’mon.” They coaxed, squeezing her sides in a loving reminder.

“Ugh, it was just… the inversion. It’s all it ever is these days. Even after Quinn coming back, I thought they’d be more about him and everything but it’s not. It’s them. It’s Vincent. It’s his partner. It’s Shaw and Talbot. It’s everyone I didn’t save.” She sighed heavily, eyes dark. Haunted by memories she longed to forget.

“I just wish I hadn’t been turned. Maybe then I could’ve kept being a healer. I could’ve stuck it out. I could’ve been useful.” She bit her lip, turning away from her Mate’s knowing look. She didn’t wanna think about it.

“Samantha, you know what I’m gonna say. You were useful. You saved so many lives, and did everything you could. You can’t get caught in the ‘what ifs’ because it will kill you. And plus, you getting turned meant that we met. We get to have this.” Darlin’ gestured at their bodies, tangled up and peaceful.

Sam leaned forward and kissed them sweetly, lips tasting like her black coffee. “I know. And please don’t think I’m not so goddamn happy I met you. And that you love me, and that we get to be this. But, I can’t help it, I just wish I could’ve been better.” Tears lined her waterlines, dancing across her eyes. Her distorted vision let her hide from their gaze for a while.

She closed her eyes, burying her face in their hair. Her arms tightened around their back, bringing their bodies flat against one another; barely an inch of room between them.

“I’m so glad you weren’t in there. I wouldn’t have coped.” She admitted.

They smiled into her chest, “Trust me Fangs, it was good I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have let you out of my arms.” They laughed. “Plus, being a vampire allowed you to help Vincent, and save his partner. It’s not all bad, you know.” They gently reminded her.

She huffed under them, belly clenching from the movements. They found an odd comfort in the way she moved under them, so warm and alive.

It soothed a part of their hindbrain.

“That is true I suppose. God I’m-“ They tsked lightly, “No ‘sorry’s’ you know this. We’re okay. You’re alright.” They swore, tilting up and kissing her once again. She hated that they read her so well. Hated that they could predict what she was saying.

“I love you cowboy.” They breathed against her lips, heart stuttering with gratitude at her existence.

She sniffed, choking back her rising emotions, “I love you too.”

[aajjks]

TC!dad!JK

“i can’t believe that i was even capable of having seven children” you reply and lean back while jungkook caresses your pregnant belly. you both watch your daughters bicker with each other. despite ayra having your features, she acts just like her father. she’s fiesty, stubborn, all of these things jungkook is while ji-eun, is more calm, super sweet, and loves to bake cookies. no seriously, she’ll skip dinner for cookies if you let her.

“Tell me yn- do I look handsome with this flower crown on my head??" you hear jungkook ask behind you and when you turn to look, all you see is your oldest son jinseoul. he’s an exact replica of jungkook. from his eyes, nose, and lips. there’s barely in you in jinseoul. you laugh and fix the crown on his head. “you look like jinseoul” you tell him. “and no, you don’t look handsome. you look adorable~” you coo and pinch his cheeks like he’s a little baby.

“i have something to tell you” and now jungkook is nervous even when he shouldn’t be. he just feels the need to be on his toes with you anytime your voice changes like that.

“i…i love you and this time i’m not saying it to just get on your good side. i really am in love with you despite everything we’ve been through. i used to think all of the time your love was just infatuation but when you let me go back home to make me happy, i felt like you really loved me because that’s the kind of things you do for someone you love. so from now on, when i say i love you, i actually mean it this time. no lies, no pretending, no what-ifs. i’m actually in love with you”

~🫧

Jungkook roll his eyes when you coo at him and pinch his cheeks, it feels good to have you laughing and giggling like this.

“Do I look like jinseoul?” he questions you. “he looks like me yn.” he reminds you and you agree. “Who do you think this baby is gonna look like? I think me.” he smirks looking at you, a goofy smile on his face.

Are you both bigger around about who this baby is gonna look like but then you suddenly say something that takes away his smile and he gets nervous.

Whenever you say something like that, it’s almost like you’re angry at him, and it scares him because he doesn’t want to experience that ever again.

“Yes?” he says, closing his eyes. 

He’s expecting to hear the worst things. or maybe even you crying. But he doesn’t. All he hears is your sweet confession. And he opens his eyes immediately.

So surprised and happy.

“W-Wait really? Yn do you really mean it? Of course I had to make you happy… you mean so much to me you have no idea- I love you so much and I had to let you go..” he sighs. “ even though it was really hard for me. You have no idea how grumpy and angry I was the whole time you were away…” he pouts.

“it was like all of my staff was concerned. Even the concubines didn’t try anything funny.. I was just so… inhuman while you were gone.” He says, “only our children kept me sane.”

Jungkook presses a kiss on your forehead. “ but I’m glad that these three years have went by so smoothly… all because of you- so thank you for giving me a chance to change-and for believing in me.”

[the-thoughtsihave]

Well here we are again. At another crossroads in my emotions.

Update: Dominic got married about 8 months ago. He and his wife are happy and thriving. And I am happy for him, I truly am.

His aunt, who was like a grandmother to him, passed away, so naturally, he came back to Grenada. Now, this wasn't something I was aware of. Imagine watching the livestream of the funeral and seeing someone you love and hate at the same time, who by the way, is supposed to be 30,000 miles away.

Obviously I was overcome with emotion. I cried. I screamed. I was truly at a loss for words and actions. What should I do? Reach out to him? Ignore him? Roll up and have a full ghetto fight? Probably not.

Well I went with door number one. I messaged him on Instagram and surprisingly, he replied. We got to talking and I offered the olive branch out to meet up for lunch. We opted for dinner on the Friday night since he was leaving Saturday. And so it was set, 8pm at Carib Sushi.

I was nervous. Very nervous. I knew what I wanted to say to him, to scream at him. But would It make me seem crazy to still be hung up on something that happened

3 years ago

Before a pandemic

With someone who has clearly moved on

While I was moved on myself

These are all valid points, so imagine my shock at the dinner itself. After an awkward church hug, we had our seats.

Within the first 5 mins of just general catching up, he cut straight to the chase. Addressed the bullshit full on. Apologized for pretty much everything and I, using my newfound emotional intelligence was able to listen and understand it all. It was difficult to hear about his fertility struggles, because I know he'd be a good father and I could see how it pained him.

We spoke about times gone by, work, college days, family and as much as could be fit in 3 hours for people who haven't spoken in 2 years.

As awkward conversations go, this was one of the better ones. The perfect blend of cathartic, nostalgic, and just showed me why he should be a part of my life in any way. The usual funny and charming yet slightly awkward Dominic has evolved into a more confident man, and I missed the entire metamorphosis.

But here's the problem. This was everything 2019 Courtney has longed for.

But what is 2023 Courtney gonna do with this? It feels like I ordered something a while ago, that has only now arrived too late and it's in the wrong size. Can I hang it up in my room? Donate it to goodwill? The regret filled apology paired with slight what ifs made me feel seen, understood, and wronged.

Some of the statements I obviously took with a pinch pillar of salt, like "if I was still living here, you know it would be different" and like statements. These don't give me the happiness or satisfaction I thought they would. It's not "Yes, know it's been me all along." Or "yes, he misses what we had. " It's more bitter tasting, like medicine, as declaration after declaration goes down my throat and burns right where my heart is. It doesn't taste good. But it's what I needed. And I could tell he needed to say it too.

The night ended as it began, with hugs and awkward jokes. Goodbyes have gotten easier, especially since 2015 haha. But they hurt Every. Single. Time. The thought that, this may be the last time we see each other, or that the next time we see each other he may not be the only one married, or that he may be a father, rung out in my head as he said goodbye and walked to his car.

I got home, had a drink, lay down and cry a bit. The whole experience, although freeing and revealing, made me sad.

Sad that life sent us down different pathways.

Sad that time has drifted us futher.

Sad that I can't go back and do 2019 differently.

Sad that I wouldn't change 2019 even if I could.

Sigh.

Alexa, Play Godspeed by Frank Ocean

Then Truth is by Fantasia

[prettyboyoongs]

Help | Carl Gallagher

“He was eye fucking the shit out of you— did you just expect me to not do anything?” Carl yelled, his blood boiling. He wiped at his nose, the dark blood staining his hand. “You’re pissing me off, (Y/N). I was protecting you.”

You shook your head, staying silent as you pushed him down so he’d sit on the toilet seat. This only angered Carl more. He watched as you wet the towel in the sink with cold water so you could wash his face. “Carl..” You mumbled quietly, sighing in frustration. You turned off the water and stood between his open legs.

“I’m fine, I don’t need you to help me,” He hissed, leaning back away from your body. You grabbed his shirt to pull him closer, and he snatched at your hand. “I’m fine!” He repeated, throwing your hand at your side when he managed to pry your fingers off of the fabric of his collar. You tripped and nearly fell into the bathtub, your chest heaving and the wet cloth forgotten and fallen to the floor.

You looked up at Carl, who gulped and breathed heavily as he looked back down at you in silence. He had a small spot of skin that was showing from where you had wiped at it before he shoved you off of him. Your eyes burned with tears, and you bit your lip before looking away. Carl sighed heavily when you stood up. He grabbed at his hair in anger while you grabbed the towel and threw it at his chest.

“Then take care of yourself, you little shit,” You yelled, sniffling. “Thanks for caring about me and protecting me, but I’d like it if you stayed out of trouble, you know! You just got out and they’re going to send you back if you do stupid shit like” You motioned to his bloody face and hand. “This.”

Carl furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed. “I never asked you to take care of me in the first place, (Y/N)! And I don’t even know why you’re being paranoid about me being sent back, babe it’s not going to happen. Everything is fine; nothing is going to happen. Just stop freaking out and trust me, for fuck’s sake!” He screamed back, grabbing the cloth off his chest and walking in front of the mirror.

“I’m your girlfriend, Carl, that’s what I do— I take care of you. Just like you tried to take care of me, dipshit. It’s the exact same. And for the record, you don’t know shit about shit. You can’t tell the future and neither can I, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. My fucking bad if I don’t want my boyfriend getting in trouble with the cops again— how crazy and selfish of me!”

“(Y/N), that’s different.” Carl rolled his eyes, scrubbing rather harshly at his bloody face. You wanted to tell him to be gentle, but you decided against it and figured he’d figure it out himself when he broke out the next day.

You just nodded, done with the conversation at this point. “Sure, Carl. Whatever you say. I’m going to bed.” You spoke quietly, slamming the bathroom door as you walked out. You walked into Carl’s bedroom and crawled into the bed, curling into yourself as you shut the light off. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you pulled the covers up to your chin.

You sniffled and tried to sleep, but you couldn’t. So you just laid awake with a heavy heart and a head full of what-ifs; what if Carl did go back to jail? What if this time he got a longer sentence? What if you wouldn’t be able to see him again for years, all because he was careless, or stupid, or was trying to protect you?

The door creaked open, making your heart jump. You quickly shut your eyes and bit your lips to avoid sobs from coming out. You hoped Carl wouldn’t notice your wet cheeks, or how you were still awake. You always hated showing emotion during fights with him.

The bed dipped, and you felt him shuffle next to you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you prayed he didn’t notice how irregular your breathing was. Your heart dropped, however, when he turned his back to you and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. He always did this when you two fought, but it still hurt everytime. You were about to tell yourself to be strong and not cry, when the front door slammed open downstairs.

“Carl, get your fucking ass down here!” Mickey yelled, making the both of you jump. Carl sat up and looked back at you in confusion, seeing you had the same expression, before the two of you rushed down the stairs. He stopped at the end of the stairs, you right behind him. “You fucking owe me, Gallagher.”

Mickey had a small cut on his eyebrow and a bruise starting to form on his cheekbone. “What are you talking about?” Carl asked. You wrapped your hand around Carl’s bicep, pushing him to the side a little to see Mickey better.

“What the hell happened to you?” You chirped.

“That little fucker from earlier. You’re welcome.” Mickey replied.

“What?”

“The little fucker you beat up for looking at your girl— he was telling everyone he was gonna press charges,” He shrugged. “So I took care of it.”

You laughed sarcastically, tapping Carl’s arm a few times before pushing past him to drag Mickey into the kitchen. Carl sighed. “Mick, you didn’t have to do that. I would of taken care of it.” He said, trailing behind the two of you. His voice was soft and quiet, embarrassment and guilt apparent.

“What’s it matter now? It’s over with. Just know you owe me.”

You opened a beer and slid it to him as he sat at the kitchen table, lifting his head up for you to clean off the blood from his eyebrow.

Carl’s heart sunk. Mickey was the toughest guy he knew, and he had no problem letting you clean his face off after a fight. Not to mention the fact that you had been right; if Mickey hadn’t taken care of him, he would of pressed charges and Carl would of gone back to jail.

He sat at the counter and waited for you to be done with his brother in law before pulling at your shirt. “Carl—” You muttered, stopping when he grabbed your head and shoved it in his neck. He wrapped his arms around you and held you against him, pressing a kiss to your head. You gulped in shock, biting your lip to contain the tears.

“You’re right. It was stupid and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t let you help me, and I’m sorry I punched that little bitch. I’m sorry, okay? I should of listened.” He spoke softly in your hair, his tone gentle like it always was when he felt shitty after a fight.

“Thank you for protecting me in the first place,” You whispered against his shoulder, running a hand through his hair. “But you gotta chill out, babe. One of these times you’re really gonna get in trouble.”

[the-scribe-and-her-scribbles]

iwcb | chapter 11. it's almost time to let go

it will come back | chapter 11 | fae!prussia x reader

it will come back Masterlist and Summary

chapter summary: Gilbert isn't telling you everything.

word count: 3.8k

content warnings: mild swearing, making out, angst, YEARNING

(if you want to be added to the tagging list, please reply to the pic or message me)

ch 11. it's almost time to let go

Gilbert hasn’t been to the western edge of his woods in years, even before he was locked away. The time he spent with Antonio and Francis was something he looked back on fondly. He had met them years ago, when he was young and wild, and a lot more stupid. 

Gilbert was driving out invaders at the time and had met Antonio and Francis when they were doing the same. They ended up getting along, and an alliance between the three of them formed. Toni and Francis became some of his closest advisors, and he respected what they had to say. It was them who’d suggested he try the Find Soulmate spell and when it came up blank, and when Gilbert spiralled, they had tried to keep his head on his shoulders. 

(“What are you doing?” Toni had said. 

Gilbert rubs his eyes, bleary and barely awake. He hadn’t slept well that night. “I’m trying to focus, for fuck sakes.” He mutters. “I can’t think with you two babying me.” 

Francis stands not too far behind them. “You shouldn’t be doing this right now, mon ami.”

“And what should I do instead?” he bites out.

“Take a moment to process, to think.” Antonio sighs and Gilbert rolls his eyes. 

“There’s nothing to think about. I tried the spell, but it didn’t work. There’s no point in dwelling on it.”

“Ancients! Nothing to dwell on? Can you even hear yourself? This is your soulmate!”

Gilbert barks out a laugh. “The problem is the lack of soulmate, Francis.”

Francis growls. “I could punch you right now.”

“What do you want from me? To weep like a little kid? To wallow in self-pity?”

“I want you to admit that you’re disappointed. That maybe, somewhere in that black heart of yours, you wanted to find your mate so that you could be with them! Not just use them as some cheap spell charm!”

“Well, you always were a romantic.” He sneers.

“You know what? Fine. You want to be an imbecile. You want to rush into the fire without taking a second to fucking think? That’s fine, but I’m not gonna watch you bring yourself to ruin. Go ahead, try to take on Arthur’s court, try standing to the North Islands’ raiders. See how well it ends for you!” Francis bites out, before turning in a swish of his expensive blue shirt and storming out of the war room.)

Gilbert tries not to wallow in the past. He makes his choices and doesn’t look back to wonder what he would have done differently, or whether he made the right choice. He dug his grave and he’d lie in it. But as he leads you out of his woods and through the familiar grassy plains of his friend’s homeland, he can’t help but think of all the mistakes he made at the end. 

He sounds like one of those philosophers you study. The withering old humans who sit and ponder things like fate, chance and how small decisions trickle into overwhelming consequences. 

Francis was right back then. He should have taken a moment, listened to him and Antonio, Elizabeta and Roderich, and even his own brother, Ludwig. Maybe he could have held off Arthur with empty treaties and diplomacy long enough to find another way. Maybe he would have never been locked away in the the first place, never had to pull you into this mess. 

Maybe he never would have gotten the chance to meet you. 

Gilbert watched you weave through the tall grass, the seeds and pollen sticking to your skirts and hair. You look at him. You’re slightly breathless and you’re skin glows in the warmth of the setting sun. 

“You know,” you say to him. “I’m getting really tired of all this fucking walking. Characters in books make this shit look easy! My feet kill!”

Gilbert snorts. Maybe it’s good that he doesn’t dwell on the ‘what ifs’. 

I'm somewhere outside my life, babe

I keep scratching 

but somehow I can't get in

Francis has a villa close to the border of The Woods. Gilbert remembers Francis moving to it every year in late Autumn.  The two of you follow a dirt road around the outskirts of a small town, that cuts through the fields and farmland all around you. It's dark now and you walk, and up ahead, Gilbert sees the fight light of lanterns hanging from a rod-iron gate. 

You reach the entrance and try to push open the gate.

“Don’t bother, it’s locked,” Gilbert says. He moves Gil-bird from one arm to another before pulling off one of his gloves with his teeth. He places his hand on one of the bars. His fingers turn soot-black with magic. The gate hums before a resounding click unlocks the gate and it swings open with a creak. 

“M’lady,” he gestures as you walk in first. 

Despite the sun setting nearly an hour ago, Gilbert can see clearly that Francis hasn’t changed the place at all. The courtyard is still lush and opulent, with perfectly manicures flower beds and walking paths. Lamps light up the main path towards the house, and faerie glamour makes the red and white roses grow even as the first frosts of winter approach. 

You go to walk up a set of wide, marble steps to what looks to be a front door, but Gilbert stops you.

“Here, this way.” 

He leads you towards a section of brick where the ivy shimmers slightly out of focus, nearly unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know what they were to look for. 

“That’s a wall,” you whisper behind him. 

“Just watch.” He reaches through the illusion, his fingers staining the tips of his fingers with inky black, as he swipes at the bricks with a little bit of magic. The black spreads out, like ink droplets onto cloth, slowly eating away at the illusion to reveal large oak doors. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” you whisper, your mouth shaped into an ‘o’ and your eyes wide. 

The door opens, and Gilbert swallows. Gilbert feels the nerves build in his stomach. He knows how badly he left things seventy-five years ago. So much for not wallowing in the past. He pushes the door open to see a figure standing on the top of the grand staircase. 

Francis hasn’t changed much either. The blond man’s wearing an expensive white shirt and black trousers. He stands completely still for a moment, looking down at Gilbert with his mouth pressed into to thin line. 

“Hey, Fran.”

He doesn’t say anything. That’s not good. Francis normally never stops speaking. Francis descends the steps and Gilbert tries to get a read on his old friend. 

“I’m not gonna apologize,” Gilbert continues. “You’ve known me long enough to know that..”

Francis continues to close the distance between them. As Francis takes the last, long strides before reaching him, Gilbert braces for impact.

Instead, the blond’s arms wrap around him in a tight hug, a hand patting him on the shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re ok,”  Francis mutters as he pulls away, and the tension in Gilbert’s chest releases. “Toni! Get down here!” 

Antonio pokes his head out from around a corner and a grin splits his face. He lets out a jovial laugh and all but leaps down the stairs. 

“Took you long enough!” He says clapping Gilbert on the shoulder with maybe a little too much strength but Gilbert can’t find it in himself to care too much.

“Do you guys…like…need a minute?” You pipe up from behind. Antonio and Francis perk up to look at you, a pretty girl, a human, that they’ve never seen before. “Because I can wait outside, it’s no big deal.” 

And tell me if somehow some of it remained

How long you would wait for me?

How long I've been away?

Francis immediately enters host mode. Food and drinks are brought out by unseen servants and you and Gilbert are guided to a back sitting room while you’re grilled about your journey so far. Gilbert lets you tell your version of events, letting himself watch as you pull your feet under you on your half of the couch with a small cake, while you go over all you’ve been through in the past five days. 

Time is a strange concept for the Fae. It moves faster when you’re facing down eternity, he supposes. Days and weeks pass with the swiftness of rushing water. Five days ago he met you and you’ve trekked around most of the Wandering woods with him. Five days ago you crashed into his life and as he watches you chat with his old friends, laughing and drinking as Francis and Toni fight for your attention, you look time you’ve known them for years. Gilbert realizes that despite only knowing you for less than a week, it feels like you’ve always been there.  

That’s horrifying. 

It scares him to realize that you’ve taken the swift passage of time and slowed it down so significantly. That you’ve made 5 days with you feel like a blissful life of knowing you. 

“So all we have to get is one more thing of the West side of the woods, and then I’ll be headed home.”

Gilbert comes back out of his thoughts to catch the last bit of what you’re saying. 

“You’re heading back to the Mortal Realm? You must be excited?” Toni says. 

You nod, “I left kind of suddenly, so I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.” 

Gilbert watches as your face takes on a more serious look, and tries to avoid the confused look that Francis shoots him. He fails, and shoots Francis a look that says “drop it.” 

“But it will be nice to get back to my house, sleep in my bed, go back to class. I’m probably behind in most of them.”

“You go to a university, what do you study?” Francis takes over the conversation. He’s thankful for that because suddenly, Gilbert needs to excuse himself for some air, maybe a drink. 

He slips out of the room. The halls are quiet, with no one in them to see him realize that this is almost over. Gilbert had told you that first night together that if you helped him, he’d send you back. And now, with only one of Gilbert’s tokens left to retrieve, your time together is coming to an end. 

That thought makes his stomach sink. 

Gilbert hears footsteps behind him and turns around. Francis has snuck up behind him in the hallway. Gilbert nods to him, swallowing as Fran faces him with a stern gaze. 

“What did you do?” He says with a sign, and Gilbert tells him everything.

I can hope how this will end

With every line a comedy

That we can learn to love without demand

But with unreserved honesty.

Francis shakes his head. “Ancients, Gilbert. What you thinking.”

He groans. He honestly couldn’t tell him. Maybe he thought that he’s been able to keep his distance, but that plan went out the window the moment he kissed you in his prison. “I know,’ he says. “I know, I wasn’t thinking but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You can’t keep this hidden from her.”

“If I tell her now, she’ll never forgive me. She’ll get scared and she’ll leave as soon as she gets the chance.” 

Francis gives him a stern look. “She has every right to.”

Those words settle in Gilbert's chest and trigger something to rise in him. It’s something feral and desperate and ugly. It claws at his chest with dirty claws, It howls and paces around his heart. 

“I just…” he takes a deep breath, pinning the hungry, possessive creature inside him under his imaginary boot. “I’m not ready yet. I need more time.” 

If he was a good person, he would tell you this. He’d tell you everything, damn the consequences. But Gilbert isn’t a good person, even by fey standards.  He’s arrogant and cruel, and he is selfish and determined and a down-right bastard. 

 You, on the other hand, are kind and good and so incredibly clever, and he’s in love with you, Gilbert finally admits to himself. 

He resigns himself to that fact. Despite his best efforts, he loved you the moment you fell into his prison, the moment you looked at him in the cool eerie light of that hell-hole, the moment you smiled at him and laughed at something he said. 

He was an idiot for thinking that he wouldn’t fall in love with you, his curse-breaker, his soulmate.

Gilbert’s craves you. He wants you. He’s desperately, completely obsessed with you and this is terrible. It’s terrible because Gilbert’s a fae, and when the fair-folk loves someone, it consumes them. 

 Gilbert loves you, and he knows in his soul that he can’t let you go yet, and soon enough, he’ll be forced to. 

As Gilbert stands in the hallway with one of his oldest friends, he is unable to come to terms with that fact yet. He looks back to the room where he left you and notices it’s now quiet. 

“Where is she?” He asks Francis. 

“Toni was taking her to look around the library when I left.”

“He’s alone with her?”

“Don’t start that with me, Beilschmidt. I could have been the one to give her the tour.” 

And Gilbert doesn’t know which one of those options was worse. He thinks that any scenario where you’re off on your own where he can’t see you is torturous. He shakes his head. 

“I should go find her,” he nods to himself. 

“To tell her the truth?” 

Gilbert looks at the blond fey and Francis pinches his brow in frustration. He sighs. “I need a drink.”

Cause I can see how this will end

In all its bitter tragedy

I'll give you all I have to spend

And you'll give nothing back to me.

Francis had left Gilbert behind to go get something to calm his nerves, leaving Gilbert alone in the halls of his villa. Gilbert can feel the tension that’s settled in him but didn’t take up Francis’s offer to drown it in expensive wine. He has the sneaking suspicion that alcohol won’t be able to soothe him anymore. 

Gilbert walks down the hallway until he reaches the doors to the house’s library. It’s dimly lit by glamour-powered lamps that hang off the walls. He pushed open the door a crack and looks in. 

A lantern sits on a table in the centre of a semi-circle of couches, and to the side, you and Antoni talk while you walk along the tall bookcases. He can only see the back of you from where he’s standing but Toni notices him come in right away. 

While you’re distracted with your browsing, Antoni wiggles his eyebrows at him and leans just a bit too close to you. Gilbert glares and motions his head towards the door.  Go!

Toni rolls his eyes and shoots him a look that says, “don’t be so jealous,” before he leans towards you and whispers his goodbyes. You nod and whisper a thank you, and Toni quietly walks away. 

 “She nice,” he whispers to Gilbert as he slips out the door. “She’ll be good for you.”

The door closes behind him with an audible click you turn from the shelf to notice his arrival. 

“Where did you run off too?” You ask him. 

He’s fae, so he’s forced to tell you at least part of the truth. “Just into the hallway. Francis and I talked.”

“Well, sorry I didn’t wait for you. Toni didn’t give me a chance to tell you where we were headed before he dragged me to see this place.” 

You continue browsing through the aisles, getting lost in your thoughts. The lantern gives you a faint orange glow as you shuffle along the bookshelf with your back turned to him again. It gives him the chance to look at you more, a pastime he can’t stop doing the longer he spends with you. 

“You don’t have to stay here, you know.” You say softly. “I’m sure you’d rather be drinking with your friends, catching up.”

There’s no way he could do that. 

When Gilbert looks at you, his heart aches. He feels like he felt when he was locked in his prison. Hungry, ravenous for any bit of you that he can get. His nerves feel like they’re set on fire.

Gilbert feels himself step closer to you. His shoulder leans against the bookshelf, his slim figure loom just beside you. 

“Do you not want company?” 

“It’s not that..” 

You look up at him through your lashes and his mouth goes dry. That thing in him stirs. He itches to just grab you. He imagines tangling his hands into your hair, pulling you close, and never letting you go. You pause and swallow something in your throat. “What are you doing, Gil?” You whisper. 

Gilbert’s found himself leaning closer to you, crowding you. he tries to pull away. He can’t quite bring himself to do it. 

He clears his throat. “Tomorrow we’ll take the Standing Stones to the other side of the Woods. We’re almost done.” 

You nod slowly, your brows pulled up into a soft, worried expression. “I know.”

Gilbert swallows, and can’t stop his next words from leaving his mouth. “When this is over, you’d be welcome to stay.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You could stay here,” he repeats, more firm before quieting down to add, “if you’d like.” 

A soft breath leaves you and you purse your lips. “You know I can’t do that,” you say, so softy his ears barely hear it. You back away and turn down another aisle of shelves. Gilbert follows after you. 

“You could.” He leans in. Your eyes shine in the dim candlelight of the library, your features only slightly illuminated in this tucked-away area of the room. It's quiet. It’s so quiet that Gilbert can hear your breath catch.

“What do you want from me, Gil?” Your eyes drift from his, down his face and then back up. 

You said that to him before once, that first night you met him. Inside his prison, under cold, blue light instead of this warm orange, you had asked him what he wanted from you and you told him what you had wanted in return. In the rows of bookshelves inside his prison, similar to the scene playing out now, the two of you made your deal, and to seal it, he’d kissed you. 

And now, history’s going to repeat itself. 

“Gil?” He leans in more, and you are backed into the shelf behind you. Your eyes droop and you lick your lips. “This is a bad idea.” You say. 

“Then tell me to stop.” 

Tell me to go and I will. Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t feel this pull like I do.

You tilt your head up to him. Your throat bobs. “Gil-“

He kisses you. He brings both hands up to cup your face and he kisses you as he did all those days ago. You make some delicious noise and he can feel your hands slide up his chest and around his neck. When that makes him breathe out just a little too heavy, he can’t bother being embarrassed. He couldn't care if he was panting and moaning like a virgin. He can feel you touching him and he can feel his soul sing, the magic that flows through him hum. Why the fuck didn’t he do this sooner?

One of his hands trails down your back and settles firmly on your waist. Your breaths mingle together, his teeth catching at your bottom lip. His hands rove over your hips and squeeze into your thighs before he lifts you and wraps them around his waist. Suddenly, you’re spinning around and he sets you on a small table in the corner. 

Your teeth clink together, and your taste permeates him. Gilbert’s starting to think that your kisses could make him drunk. His fingers thread through your hair and he tugs your head back, exposing the smooth skin of your neck. 

You gasp. “Gil-“

He trails down your kissing some spots and nipping others. He feels your hands trail into his white hair. You grab the strands and pull his face back up. 

 “Gil!” 

He can’t even think about that. He kisses you again, your lips are swollen but you still kiss him back, and it’s so good and sweet and lovely. So lovely and beautiful that he can’t stop mumbling those things under his breath in between the kisses. 

He breaths, the fevered pace he’s set slows down until his mouth is far more gentle, and he leans is slower and softer, and your hands are still tangled in his silver hair. 

“Gilbert.” He pulls away, one final time. A string of saliva connects the two of you and all the two of you can hear is the gasping for breath in the dim corner of the library. 

“We can’t do this.” You whisper. 

He presses his forehead to yours. 

“Yes, we can.” He says. “You can. Stay, please.”

“I can’t. I have people waiting for me. I have a life. I might not be magic, or fae, or a warrior but I have things, people waiting for me in the Mortal World. I have to get back to them.” You place the palm of your hand and push his way. It’s gentle, not harsh or cruel, just the firm decision of someone who’s always done the right thing, always followed her mind instead of her soul.

You push yourself off the table where Gilbert had placed you, and walk towards the door. He reaches to stop you from leaving you. He can’t help himself. He has to try. His pale hand wraps around your forearm.

“Don’t.” You look back at him and your eyes are watering.

“I’m sorry.” Gilbert let’s go. He doesn’t want you to cry.

“It’s okay, really. I’m not mad. I just…” you sigh. “Tell everyone I’ve headed to bed, okay?” 

You turn away and scurry out the door, disappearing into the hallway. Gilbert is left in the library alone. He bends down and leans on the table. He rubs his face and left out a sigh. He feels like kicking himself. 

Why the fuck did he do that?

Everything I’ve ever let go of 

Has claw marks on it

author's notes

I am so sorry for this. This chapter wasn't beta-read so im sorry that it's probably not very good. Also this was my first make out scene I’ve every written so I hope it was okay!

Weeee! I did it! I am so sorry that my writing is so slow, but I’m glad I got this done!

quotes

1. Sedated by Hozier

2.As It Was by Hozier

3. This Will End by The Oh Hellos

4. This Will End by The Oh Hellos

5. Quote by David Foster Wallace

tagging list: @jtownraindancer, @redrosesociety1, @xxruinaxx

[bigilante]

〖 her best friend ❣ zendaya 〗

「 zendaya x gender-neutral!reader 」 ┅ 「 2.7k words 」

: a.n : back at it again with the unsolicited fics :)) i hope you guys like it 👉🏼👈🏼

⤷ : prompt : separated forcefully or for reasons you can’t control, run into each other again years later on accident.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop making headlines calling us ‘very good friends’?” You halfheartedly laughed at yet another Instagram post by some magazine that showed you and Zendaya out and about LA. “Like, the minute you hang out with any guy they’re like, ‘Oh! Date alert!’ But I’m just your ‘best friend’” You were ranting now, unable to hide the annoyance you felt.

“Why does it matter what they say?” Zendaya quizzed, her hands playing with the waist string of your sweats. She looked up at you from her slumped down position on the sofa, her faint frown making you sigh.

“Because... don’t you feel is a bit homophobic?” You wondered, placing your phone face down on top of your stomach to give her your full attention. The brunette just shrugged nonchalantly and you let out another sigh picking your phone again to close the app, “I’m gonna head out.” It was best to just leave then, you didn’t want to get in a stupid argument with her not before you were set to leave for New York the very next morning. You began to incorporate but Zendaya’s hands gripped your thighs keeping them draped over hers.

“Y/n, come on.” She said, gorgeous hazel eyes pleading at you. What exactly? You had no idea but for a second, you were about to give in however a loud ding coming from your phone stopped you. Your eyes scanned the screen and the reminder that had popped up read ‘PACK ! 4 ! N Y C !’, you sent her an apologetic glance before getting off the sofa, gathering your stuff and petting Noon goodbye.

Zendaya had stood up from the sofa too, watching your every move intently, probably trying to figure out if you were upset with her. The truth was, you didn’t know if you were upset with her or with the media, it was possible that both had a little part in your now sour mood. “See you next week, best friend. Love you.” You joked before swinging the front door open and leaving. The week was going to feel like a month, you knew, but the hope that making that simple joke followed by the declaration would ease things up was strong.

But what did hopefulness ever bring if not disappointment and heartache?

Seeing medium-quality paparazzi pictures of your girlfriend as soon as you landed from a five-hour flight wasn’t exactly the way you wanted to be welcomed to New York. You sat quietly in the back of an Uber trying not to cry as your eyes stared at the images on your phone. A series of pictures of Zendaya and Tom leaving her house, —they must had been taken that morning while you were on your way to the airport— the further you scrolled down the Twitter trends the more you felt like throwing up. Them in his car. Tom’s hand reaching for Zendaya’s jaw. Both leaning in. Kissing. Laughing.

It felt like a punch to the face, it was the worst feeling you had ever endured and the people that caused it were the last you would’ve thought could ever dare to hurt you. Your trembling hands fumbled with the settings on your account, privating it and blocking her and Tom, doing the same with Instagram followed by their numbers on your phone. It felt like doing a cleansing, the pressure in your chest easing only minimally when you locked your phone and looked out into the running city. You wanted to scream and cry, break stuff, throw your phone away and not show to work, you just wanted to go hide in your Airbnb for the rest of the week and pretend you and Zendaya never happened.

The reality was that you two had happened and it was far too hard to pretend it didn’t, your heart ached both physically and metaphorically and you hated every second of it. For that week you spent in New York no one shut up about the photos, every person you worked with had that hot, brand new ‘goss’ about the pair that had hurt you so badly.

You sat in the quiet living room of the apartment you had been living in whilst in the big city, laptop sitting in front of you as you cancelled your flight back to LA, changing the tab to the Airbnb’s one to pay for a few more days. You had been holding yourself together the whole time you were there, work keeping you busy and sleeping pills doing their magic at the end of the day but it could only go so far. Glassy, stinging eyes stared blankly at the empty inbox of your email, the cursed images projecting over the blank space and you just weren’t strong enough anymore, you couldn’t, so you cried and choked and screamed until your throat and eyes were sore; until your whole body was drained of every bit of energy.

Little by little you were sweeping your life clean of her, clearing out your phone’s camera roll, changing your number. Deleting social media was a big no for your job so filtering everything and anything that had to do with them was the only option, that and spending little to no time online. You had stopped to think one night of the what-ifs of the situation, you were aware that Zendaya’s publicist wasn’t so happy about you and her dating publically and Tom’s was obsessed with boosting the Spider-man movies at all cost, still, giving you a heads up about it would had been the right thing to do.

For a year and a half, you made yourself busy, going back and forth wasn’t something you enjoyed but it worked to avoid unwanted visits and accidental encounters. Enough time had passed, you thought as you stopped booking in so many clients across the country and settled back in your LA home. “You know what? I could go for a thick, sugary milkshake, right now.” Naomi told you as you put down your half-empty box of fried noodles on the coffee table.

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulous receiving an enthusiastic nod from your friend. “Naomi, we just had Chinese and you wanna wash it down with a milkshake?” She rolled her eyes at you when you pointed it out.

“Fine, what about Bubble U? Bubble tea is Chinese isn’t it?” She offered, her question prompting you to send her an unamused glare. “Yep, Bubble U it is, then!” Naomi jumped up, going straight to the door. Reluctantly you got up from the floor, groaning all the way to the door where you got ready to go out, “Come on! It’ll be fun!” She chirped while she pulled you out of the house. You hated to admit it but you had completely modified your life after the heartbreak, once you settled back home you barely left it, you didn’t attend parties unless it was for work or go out with your friends unless it was at any of their houses. You didn’t walk around the city that often anymore in fear of bumping into her.

“I miss this.” You sighed as you walked down Chinatown with your friend, the coldness of your drink pleasant against the palm of your hand. “Just walking around town.” You continued taking a sip of the milk tea.

“I still don’t get why you had to stop going out with us.” Naomi said inciting you to turn to look at her, “I mean, I know why it’s just… you didn’t have to stop.” She rephrased it giving you an apologetic glance. You knew how much your friends hated the idea of you not being able to be you after the whole thing with Zendaya and Tom happened but it was your way of coping with it and even though they didn’t agree with it, they supported you.

“Well, I’m outside now, aren’t I?” You nudged her side with your elbow making her giggle as she nudged you back. “Maybe this is me getting back to my old self.” Hope laced your every word as you looked around the busy street. The way the golden light of the setting sun washed over the buildings made the outing worth the risk.

LA was the second-largest city in the United States, with a population of nearly four million that one could think the chances of crossing paths with a lover-turned-stranger was one in millions, yet, there you were rooted to the pavement as your wide eyes stared at the tall and thin figure coming out of one of the many restaurants that dotted the street. “Come on, let’s go back.” Naomi said, placing her hand on the crook of your elbow ready to pull you out of there but something inside your chest told you to keep moving forward.

So you did, you started walking again letting your friend’s hand slip away from you. She was quick to follow, whisper-shouting at you that whatever you were doing probably wasn’t the best idea. The closer you got to her the more nervous you felt, it’s been over a year since you last saw her and god, was she even more beautiful than before; long legs clagged in camel coloured trousers, feet sporting her beloved black converse. Her top was white, a little see-through and you cursed at how much it still drove you absolutely crazy in the most irritating sense.

Curls tucked into an elastic on top of her head in a carefree and relaxed way, a few stubborn strands hanging out framing her face and gracing her neck. She was laughing loudly at something Darnell said, that laugh you had forced yourself to forget but the second it hit your ears, you realised how badly you had missed it. Then everything stopped, Naomi’s panicked telling off, Darnell’s chatting and Zendaya’s laughing. It all had stopped but the rambling around the four of you.

You stood in front of Darnell while Naomi stood in front of Zendaya, your friend’s usually amicable attitude disrupted by the scowl on her face as she glared Zendaya’s way only the brunette’s pupils were set on you with no apparent intention of averting. “It’s you,” She breathed out, hope barely perceivable in her tone. You only hummed at the observation, your eyes moving from hers down to her hands that were gripping the long lanyard that held her phone around her neck. Her nerves were evident then, the intensity with which she clutched it seemed to be draining the blood flow from her fingers. “I— How—” Zendaya tried to speak but failed, letting out a shaky breath. “How have you been?”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Naomi protested, you understood where your friend was coming from but you also needed that, you needed to speak to Zendaya just one more time to be able to finally let everything go. You needed her to confirm your theory just so you could move on and Darnell seemed to be on the same page as you for he stepped in between you and Naomi, throwing his arm around her shoulders to guide her away from you two. You heard her object some more but ultimately she complied and walked away.

“I’ve been fine. You?” You eventually spoke after short but agonising seconds of silence.

“I don’t know. There are good days among the terrible ones, so... fine, I guess?” She shrugged a shoulder. With a nod of your head, you looked past her over her shoulder to see a man pointing a camera at you, you were about to warn her when she began speaking again. “Y/n, I’m so sorry about—” Zendaya started but you shook your head no making her stop, you realised then that you did want to talk to her but not on the street in front of that many people and certainly not when there were paparazzi nearby.

“Heard the movie did well.” Your tongue betrayed your brain. Zendaya tried to speak once more but you cut her again. “I’m glad it did. Made it all worth it, didn’t it?” You faked a small smile nearly choking on the words, the anxious lump in your throat threatening to cut your airflow.

“No, It didn’t.” Zendaya denied taking a step closer to you forcing you to hold your breath with the sudden move. “I was a total asshole to you before you left, then Marla wanted me and Tom to do that for a while and I don’t even know why I did it.” She ranted in one breath.

“I upset you.” The statement earned you a furious head shake from the tall girl. “I did. I kept bugging you about the articles,” You carried on, inconspicuously your eyes started to line with tears. The more you talked the more you realised that maybe, just maybe there was a bit of blame in you too, however, that didn’t mean Zendaya was absolved from any. “You never said a thing to me about the stunt.”

“I felt like I didn’t need to, I wasn’t gonna do it.”

“But you did. The morning I left LA.” You mumbled, trying to hide from the second man with a camera that had appeared closer than the first.

“Fuck, I know it was a shitty thing to do and I’m sorry,” She took another small step forward.

“You always told me kissing in public wasn’t your thing.” You exposed, tears irrevocably breaking the surface tension and cascading down your cheeks. Flicking your gaze up at her you saw nothing but hurt and regret written all over her gorgeous face and your heart squeezed at the sight. She had never spoken about it and neither had you asked, you just felt it in your heart that she was scared of how the media would treat you both if they ever found out you were dating, you knew the times had changed but there were still closed-minded people that ran gossip magazines and could make your lives a living hell the moment they caught you holding hands in public or worst, kissing.

The murmuring around you increased, reminding you that you were in a very public place crying in front of your secret ex-girlfriend. “Fuck that.” Zendaya grumbled. One moment she was a small step away from you and the next her hands were cupping your face and her lips were softly pressed against yours. The action took your breath away instantly, still, you found yourself powerless against the familiar taste and feel of her and allowed her to kiss you as long as she wanted to in front of how many people she wanted to. There were yelps and gasps all around the two of you and you started to regain conscience and pulled away.

Wide, watery eyes staring up at the girl mere inches away from your face. “Th-there’s pap—”

“I don’t care.” She whispered before she captured your lips once more, this time deeper and twice as intensely as the first time. Your hands scurried to her waist, bringing her flush to your body as you kissed her back gladly, desperately wanting her lips to make the past year bleep out of your core memories.

The night went by slowly as if the universe was granting you more time to spend in the arms of the girl you loved. She never once let a second of silence go by you, filling it with a whispered apology and a kiss. You talked about everything the time you spent apart brought to both of you, she told you about firing her publicist right after the pictures came out, about how she understood why you had cut her off without any explanation and how bad both her and Tom felt with the whole thing.

Articles flooded the internet that very night as well as the next morning, however, neither of you knew of them right away for any device that could be hooked to a WiFi signal was rightfully turned off while you basked in the presence of each other under the covers of Zendaya’s bed.

“Spider-man Star Zendaya shares intense kiss with BFF, Celeb Stylist y/n l/n in the middle of Chinatown! Swipe to see the pictures!”

It might be 2021 but some things refused to change.

【 thank you so much for reading! ♡ please, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought of this ♡ kit xx 】

[miekasa]

your dad!levi headcanons made my day. would you happen to have any thoughts about dad!eren?🥺

Unfortunately... I do 🤒🤒 he’d be such a determined but fun dad, like I don’t think he'd be completely lax, but he's not an authoritarian either, but he definitely butts heads with his kids when they get a little older and more rambunctious, and you gotta remind him to be patient with them because... because they're exactly how he was when he was 8 😭😭

He was stupid excited when he found out you were gonna have kids. Like, way more excited than you thought he’d be; you’ve maybe mentioned kids in passing or casually, and he was never negative about the prospect of them, but he had never shown this level of excitement before.

He gets even more excited when you find out you’re having twins. And then reality hits him that you’re having twins. That means two of them. At the same time. Yeah, he might have been excited about one, but two... the whole dad thing really kicks in right there. 

He has this period of time where he’s definitely still supporting you and being positive throughout your pregnancy, but then he’ll lay awake at night scared shitless of the fact that he’s gotta raise two kids. He starts freaking out so bad, Mikasa has to slap some sense into him. 

He’s losing it one night at her place, completely having a downward spiral of doubt and anxiety, going off about what ifs and how maybe you’d be better with someone else being a dad to them and Mika literally slaps him to shut him up. “You are going to be a dad to those kids, and you’re gonna be a good one, too, Eren. Nobody’s saying you won’t fuck up, but you’ll have help along the way.” 

He feels better after that (his cheek hurts like hell for two days tho), and the reassurance from Mikasa and you really does help, and he’s back on track to bouncing off the walls about having kids. 

Obsessed with the concept of baby clothes (“Babe, are they really gonna be this tiny??”), but he doesn’t understand the sizing of them. Is there really that big of a difference between four month olds and ten month olds?? He hasn’t grown that much in six months, why would they?? 

Don’t even get him started on baby shoes, he thinks those are completely ridiculous: “Their toes are gonna be the size of my pupils, why would we put shoes on them?? That’s dumb, we’ll just get those fuzzy socks to keep em warm when they’re cold, I don’t wanna squash their growing toes.” 

He cries when he holds them for the first time, because, they are, predictably, tiny. Tinier that he ever could have thought imaginable; he can hold is son and his daughter with one hand each and it’s an incredibly tender and heartwarming and humbling thing to him. 

He literally cried more than you throughout the whole delivery, too. He was a complete emotional wreck; happy and jittery one moment, anxious and nervous the next, crying no matter what, and yeah, he might have passed out once or twice, but don’t mention it. 

Gives the twins a “house tour” when you take them home from the hospital, narrating it every bit of the way. He holds them both to his chest, slowly parading around your house like, “And this is the kitchen, and this is the fridge where we keep your baby mush. It tastes bad, I tried it, but hopefully you’ll like it.” 

Your daughter looks like you, but also like Carla; and your son has damn near all of Eren’s features, and they both got his green eyes (lucky them). Eren is obsessed, and loves playing peek-a-boo with them. 

When his paternity leave is up, he figured he’d go back to work first and leave you at home with the kids to give you more time to rest and let your body have more time to adjust after giving birth. Half-way through his first day back, he calls out early under the pretenses of being sick because he misses you guys that much. 

He calls out sick for the remainder of the week too, and finally by Friday he sits down with you and is like, “I know we said I would go back to work first but I don’t think I can do it, babe. I wanna stay and hang out with them all day before they’re too big and have to go to school.”

And that, is essentially, how Eren comes to the conclusion that he wants to be a stay at home dad. It doesn’t surprise you, or anyone really, it was only a surprise to himself; but it was a surprise to him that nobody else was surprised. 

“What do you guys mean you ‘saw this coming?’” he questions you, Mikasa, and Armin sporadically, “I could have gone back to work if I wanted to!!” To which, you look around at his friends, before Armin finally speaks up, a slight roll to his eyes, “Eren, you can hardly leave them with me or Mikasa for two hours. How did you expect to make it through the work day.”

When they get a bit older, he’s the champ of playing games with them. Acts out the most dramatic “deaths” when he gets shot by a Nerf gun, becomes the most convincing doctor when playing fake hospital, and has learned a pretty damn impressive Mickey Mouse impression to entertain them. 

It’s your daughter that turns out to get most of Eren’s... determined personality. She might only be three years old, but she can argue with him as if she graduated from law school, and swears he never wins with her. How could he; it’s like arguing with himself, please they both stomp away and have to cool down after. 

They make up pretty quick tho, because Eren hates it when they’re mad in general, much less mad at him or you; and he sulks to you, borderline whining about how he doesn’t want her to hate him. You reassure him that she does not hate him, she’s just... feisty like he is. 

It’s her twin brother that consoles and calms her down, because he’s the more tame of the two. By the time Eren’s knocking on the door to their room to talk it out and apologize, she’s already knocked out, leaning up against her brother as they both take a nap. (It’s a sight that could bring him to tears, and he slowly closes the door and goes to cuddle up to you, while he waits for them to finish napping). 

He absolutely loves to lift them up, and even has they get bigger, he insists they’ll never be too big for him to hold them. Both he and the twins get a kick out of having them hang off his arms while he spins around in a circle like a little human sprinkler. 

Family picnics and/or beach days happen often, and more often than not, it ends up with Eren and the kids coercing (see: pulling) you to the water or to play with them.

By the end of the day, Eren’s laying on the blanket lazily eating a sandwich hich you’d packed earlier, with his son sat criss-cross on his stomach. He teases him by airplaining the sandwich near his mouth, only to take a bite of it himself after, because he adores the betrayed exclaimation of “Daddy! No fair!” Eren’s always sure to give him a bite for real after, and a little kiss on the head to make up for it. 

Your daughter sits in your lap, half-asleep, even tho moments before she was oh-so determined to play volleyball against her dad again (“And I’m gonna win, mommy, watch! Daddy’s tall, but I can win!”)

He lets them draw/color/paint on his back. He’ll just lay down on a blanket in the living room and let them go to town. Face painting, too, though that’s for when they’re a bit older; he learns the hard way that a two year old can have pretty rough hands. 

The complete and utter disappointment and betrayal in his eyes when he hears your son proclaim that he thinks Jean is “cool.” Eren has to take a lap, he can’t believe his own kin would say some shit like that. 

Your daughter loves Mikasa, thinks she’s the absolute best person in the world, and always asks if she can be the one to babysit. They both like Armin, too, but Armin’s gotta stay away from your son for a bit because for whatever reason, his blonde hair is very amusing to him, and the kid’s got a pretty strong grip. (“Stop bullying your Uncle Armin, it’s not his fault he’s blonde.”)

You often catch him doing push ups with either one or both of them on his back, and the kids fucking love it. They’re cheering him on, counting completely out of order about the amount of push-ups he’s done, and clapping every time he comes up again. It becomes his favorite workout. 

He swears they’re his best friends and his favorite people in the entire world. He does everything with them: getting the oil changed in his car, going to the store, picking up the mail. He just loves being around them and swears he’s gonna be the best dad for them. 

[mammonshuman92]

- It Takes Two -

(Mammon x GN!MC)

Genre: angst/hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: alcohol, drunkenness, cheating, **

** There is a moment where a character is drunk, and someone makes moves on them, character is too drunk to realize it’s not who they thought it was. Groping and making out, no penetration; character doesn’t consider is SA. I apologize if it is offensive.

Ya better hurry up, or we’re gonna be late!” Mammon was pulling you by the hand down the hallway to your first class of the day.

“I wasn’t the one who overslept because they kept saying “just lay with me for 5 more minutes.”“ You said, giving your best impression of him.

You’d become best friends rather quickly after your arrival in the Devildom, practically becoming attached at the hip instantly. It didn’t take long for that light, warm feeling to invade your heart. Now you’d been dating for a few months and had become even more inseparable.

“Details, details!” He responded, laughing.

The two of you came barreling through the door with only seconds to spare before the bell rang; hand-in-hand, laughing like fools.

You took your seats across the room from each other, being the professors current punishment for Mammon talking to you during class.

As you sat down you felt eyes on you and looked up.

A few succubi were not so casually looking at you and whispering.

It wasn’t uncommon though. I mean, you are a human in the Devildom. You also live with the 7 rulers of the underworld. You’d gotten quite used to people whispering about you. You decided to ignore them, and pay attention to class. Whatever they were whispering about was surely nothing you hadn’t already heard circulating throughout the gossip mill.

Throughout the day, you noticed the same group of succubi whispering and giving you looks. They even giggled a couple times. You tried your best to keep your cool, but it had been going on all day and it was really getting under your skin.

What is so damn funny? You thought to yourself.

The final bell rang and you couldn’t be happier. Now you got to put the day behind you and go home with Mammon. Tonight is movie night. Cuddling and eating junk food is just what you need after a day like today.

You rushed to the usual spot where you meet Mammon. Seeing his face would definitely make you feel better right now, but he wasn’t there yet. 

He must have gotten hung up in class or something.

You leaned against the wall, pulled out your D.D.D. and started surfing Deviltube to pass the time. You were so engrossed in your video that you barely noticed that same group of succubi walk past.

Until they made sure you noticed them, that is.

One girl bumped into you on purpose, sending your D.D.D. to the concrete, via crash-landing.

“Stupid human.” She sneered.

You rolled your eyes and bent down to pick up your D.D.D. It’s nothing you haven’t heard, quite a bit actually, since coming to the Devildom. She’d have to try a lot harder than that.

When you stood back up, the succubus in question was standing in front of you, arms crossed with a smug grin.

“Do you think you’re special?” She asked, looking you up and down. You didn’t respond and resumed your scrolling through Deviltube. Ignoring her made her mad.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

Excuse me? 

“I don’t think MY relationship is any of your concern.” You said sweetly, slapping on your best fake smile. You looked around them, desperate to see Mammon walking up, but he wasn’t there.

Where is he? 

She was practically laughing in your face. 

“He made me feel special too.” Her words, full of venom as they left her lips, triggered something in your brain.

Flashbacks of your first day in the Devildom came rushing back. Specifically what Satan had said after Mammon made his grand entrance.

“Whenever he takes a liking to someone, they suddenly find themselves awash in money. But from what I hear, if he decides to break it off with someone, that wealth evaporates. They’re left without a Grimm to their name.”

The memory made your chest feel heavy. 

Could that pertain to people as well? They said a pure soul is like a shiny gem. What if..

“Everything he’s said to you, he probably already said to me.” She spat.

Your head was spinning, a knot forming in your throat. Her earlier words replaying in your mind.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

What if..? No.. He wouldn’t do that...would he?

You quickly got so lost in thought as anxiety started to take root, plaguing you with ‘what ifs’ and hypotheticals, that you almost didn’t notice when someone stepped between you and the succubus. Putting a hand on either side of your face, he tilted your head up to look at him. Irises the color of tropical waters, instantly melt away your anxiety, calming the angry sea inside you.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered with a smile. His voice was soft, but you could see the anger in his eyes. He slung an arm around your shoulders and turned to start walking toward the House of Lamentation.

“We weren’t done talking.” She said vindictively.

“Don’t ya have anythin’ better to do?” Mammon snarled, glaring at the succubus.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaving with her friends.

By the immense tension you could feel between them, you could tell that they had indeed been together at some point.

The walk home was quiet, which left you with ample time for your thoughts to run wild. 

Did she know him like you do? His little habits and his favorite things? 

Did she stick up for him when his brothers were dogging on him? Or afterward when he was down, did she try her best to drown out their hateful words with affirmations of love?

Did she play with his hair while he laid on her stomach, arms wrapped tight around her middle after he loved her? Hold her in his lap as he rubbed soothing circles on her back when she was sad? Whisper sweet nothings to her when he thought she was asleep?

...Did he love her?

-

“Whoa! Did ya see that, MC?!”

The two of you were curled up on the couch in Mammon’s room, watching a movie on his projector, just like you did every week.

Did they do movie night?

It shouldn’t be bothering you. Of course he’s had other partners. He’s been alive for thousands of years.

And you’ve had other partners. So what? No biggie. That wasn’t the issue.

The thought of him saying the same things, doing the same things with someone else...loving someone else, is what bothered you. It hurt to think that maybe you really weren’t that special; another weak, insignificant human, just like all the rest.

But the things she said kept playing on a loop in your head.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

“He made me feel special too.”

Could she be right?

“Babe, are ya okay?” He had paused the movie and was now staring at you expectantly.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m fine.” He saw through it quickly.

“Ya know, you’re not good at lyin’. What’s wrong? If ya don’t like the movie we can watch someth-”

“That girl earlier, at RAD? Is she your ex?” You didn’t want to bring it up, but you had to know before your thoughts could torment you further.

His face fell and he sighed heavily. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna say somethin’..”

You remained quiet, watching his face, waiting for him to begin talking.

“We were together a long, long, time ago. Nothin’ serious. I broke it off when I realized she was only around for what she could get outta me. She didn’t take it too well.” He explained, his expression turning sour. “She had a different story, huh?”

“She didn’t say much really, except once you get tired of me you’ll move onto the next one. That I’m nothing special because everything you say to me you’ve probably said to her.” You said, keeping your eyes down as you fidget with the hem on your shirt.

He started laughing.

Your head snapped up, looking at him in shock.

“What’s so funny, Mammon?” You asked, getting a little irritated by his reaction. He stopped laughing when he looked at you and realized you were serious.

“Ya don’t actually believe her, do ya?” He scoffed, getting offended.

“No? I don’t know..” You replied, not meeting his gaze. Of course you wanted to believe him, but you already felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that succubi’s words just watered the seeds of insecurity in your brain and helped them flourish.

You had always been the opposite of his brothers. You always believed Mammon, even when everyone else was against him. You were always on his side. Ready to stick up for him no matter what. To hear you now, was like a slap in the face.

Mammon’s face distorted in pain. And anger.

“What? Whaddya mean ya don’t know?” His voice was soft, “Ya don’t trust me?” He asked, meeting your gaze.

“Mammon, that’s-”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. A few bitter words from some random demon and now my words mean nothin’. “ He jumped up from the couch, making a beeline for the door.

“What about the last few months, huh? After all the time we spent together you think I’d do somethin’ like that to ya?” His voice cracked on the last sentence. He paused; hand on the knob as he stared at the door. You heard a small sniffle as his other hand came up to angrily wipe his face.

“I thought ya knew me better than anyone.” His voice was barely audible, but you could hear the hurt. He felt betrayed.

And with that he left, slamming the door behind him.

When he didn’t come back after an hour and wouldn’t answer your calls, you grabbed a few things and headed to your room. You still felt uneasy about the whole “his ex confronting you” thing and after what had just happened, you just wanted to be alone. 

Your bed seemed huge and your room felt odd. It’s not like you didn’t spend time in there anymore, you just didn’t usually do so alone. The silence was deafening.

I shouldn't have doubted him. He used to try and hide his feelings, although he was bad at it. But since we got together, he doesn’t hide how he feels about us to anyone.

You thought of all the times his cheeks had flushed scarlet when you caught him staring at you. How he sits and endures scary movies because they’re your favorite. The way he will randomly bring you your favorite snacks or other little gifts because he was thinking about you. Relentlessly tickling you just to hear your bright, uninhibited laughter. That even in his sleep, he has to be constantly touching some part of you, or he gets restless. 

You slowly drifted off to sleep, with tears staining your cheeks.

-

“Have you seen Mammon?” 

He never came looking for you last night and he wasn’t at breakfast. He even skipped RAD.

Asmo shook his head, “Not since yesterday. Did something happen?”

You decided to fill him in with all the details. He is the Avatar of Lust after all, so surely he could give you some advice regarding love.

He gasped dramatically, “No she didn’t! What a tart!”

“I know I shouldn’t have doubted him. He’s never given me a reason to, but I don’t know. She just got in my head, I guess. Poked at some insecurities.” You explained. “I haven’t seen him since he stormed off.”

“He won’t pout for long, he never does.”

“It’s more than just pouting. I hurt him just like everyone else. He feels betrayed.” You said, voice small.

You just wanted to pepper his face with kisses and profusely apologize for ever doubting him. Why did you ever let some random succubus get to you like that? To make your trust for Mammon falter, even slightly. Did you honestly believe he would toss you aside after he got what he could out of you? Really? 

Satan said it too though, in the beginning. That when you’re with him you find yourself drowning in gifts and the like, but once he outgrows you, you’re left with nothing. That’s the Greed.

You refuse to accept it though.

You know Mammon, better than anyone. He has changed so much since you came here. He’s not the same demon he used to be. He is more than just his sin.

“When he is ready, he’ll come back. He always does.” Asmo said, placing a hand on your shoulder, giving you a warm smile.

“Now, let’s go and change! You are depressing me and it’s ruining my skin. We are going out tonight!” He was practically vibrating with excitement. You, not so much.

“Ugh, no way Asmo. I’m not in a party mood.”

“Nonsense! It’s exactly what you need. We will have some drinks and dance and you’ll feel better. You’ll see.”

You relented, knowing that once Asmo got his mind set on something like this, there was no getting out of it. Maybe a few drinks really would make you feel better.

-

“Trouble in paradise?” She said, motioning to the drink in his hand.

His clothes were dishevelled, his hair mussed, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He looked like he’d been through the wringer. Felt like it too. He’d been in the private lounge at the club for a little while now, nursing drink after drink, attempting to drown his sorrows.

“Go away.” He growled, turning his attention back to his drink.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” She asked innocently.

“Nah, but it is a good way to greet a snake.”

“Ouch.” She put a hand over her heart, feigning hurt feelings.

“Haven’t ya caused enough problems? Leave me alone.”

She scoffed, plopping down onto the couch next to him.  “Oh, come on Mammon. You’re this hung up over a human?”

“Don’t talk about MC.” He snarled. In one big gulp, he swallowed the remainder of his drink. No matter what kind of situation the two of you were in, he wouldn’t let someone, anyone, say anything cross about you. At all.

“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously say you don’t miss being with me. A demon.” She leaned in close, her lips next to his ear, “Not nearly as fragile as a human. You can be as rough as you want..” She purred.

He jumped up from where he’d been sitting, attempting to get away from the succubus. “Get the fuc- Whoa.” He slurred, staggering slightly before quickly sitting back down, head lolling back to rest on the back of the couch. His vision was pretty blurry; the room spinning. He closed his eyes, hoping it’d help. 

Even in his deeply inebriated state, you were all that was on his mind. The feel of your hand running through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. The warmth of your body pressed against his, your lips; soft and delicate like rose petals, leaving small kisses across his face before finally meeting his lips. The bubbly sound of your laughter, beautiful like music. The way your eyes shine every time you see him, even if he only left your side for a tiny moment. 

After the fight you had and leaving the way he did, and now being away from you a whole day, not hearing your voice, feeling your touch, he was ready to go crazy. And although he did sneak back into the house after he was sure everyone was asleep, and slept in the backseat of his car so no one would find him, it wasn’t the same as sleeping next to you. He missed you.

But, it was more than that. He felt so incredibly stupid for reacting the way he had. If he were in your situation, and felt how you did, he would’ve had questions too. You love him, and all you wanted was a little reassurance that he in fact does love you. Man, does he love you. More than he’s ever loved anyone or anything.

With the attention span of a tuna sandwich, mixed with the levels of alcohol in his system, and being so deep in his thoughts of you, he hadn’t noticed the sudden shift of weight in his lap.

One hand found its way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other hand resting on his chest, slowly moving down his stomach, intently feeling every muscle. His mouth opened slightly, a breathy sigh escaping. He had missed you so much, your touch lighting his skin ablaze, craving you more and more.

Your hand moved lower, earnestly caressing his growing stiffness. Your lips crashed into his suddenly; hungrily, your tongue brushing his bottom lip. His hands moved up your thighs before firmly gripping your hips, grinding you against him.

Small alarm bells were going off in his head, something didn’t seem right. You didn’t giggle like you always do when he grabs your hips. Your kisses seemed sloppier than usual too.

He tried opening his eyes, blinking lazily several times. The room was still swirling around in his drunkenness, making it nearly impossible to focus.

Your hand moved to his pants, undoing the button and zipper. He removed a hand from your hip and grabbed your wrist, but didn’t attempt to move your hand from his swollen boxers. As he was about to break the kiss and suggest heading home and picking up with this make up where you left off, he heard a voice nearby.

“What the hell?!” They shrieked. 

Asmo?

“Mammon..?” You barely choked out.

That was your voice. He’d recognize it anywhere; the musical sound gently floating into his ears as it always did. But you sounded like you were crying..

And it didn’t come from the figure straddling his lap. How is that possible? He’s been making out with you, getting pretty heated actually, for the last several minutes.

He broke the kiss with you, confusedly turning to his left and blinking several times until his surroundings started to come into focus.

There you stood in the doorway of the private lounge with Asmo next to you, your eyes wide as s tears streamed down your cheeks, gaping at him in horror.

The alarm bells that had been going off, the red flags popping up trying to warn him that something wasn’t quite right, were about to become very clear.

- part two coming soon! -

[georgiapeach30513]

🤨🤨Well, well, well since you mentioned it what was Blade’s sexual awakening???🤔🤔🤔Acquiring (and horny) minds would like to know the WHO, what, when, & where that corrupted thee corrupter himself 🤗🤗🤗

Thank goodness for this! These Andy what ifs are getting dark, so let's go into Blade's sexual awakening. KEEP IN MIND CURTIS AND YELENA ARE NOT RELATED BY BLOOD. THEY WERE RAISED IN FOSTER CARE TOGETHER A LOT. HIM, NAT, AND YELENA CONNECTED CLOSELY BECAUSE THEY CAME FROM DISGUSTING HOMES, AND THE GIRLS WERE NOT TREATED WELL IN CARE, SO CURTIS BECAME THEIR PROTECTOR

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yes Daddy

Summary:  Blade gets a lesson

Pairings: Kira Jensen X Blade Drysdale X Evaluna Everett-Levinson

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, PIV sex, threesome, fingering, face riding, D/s dynamics, mentions of shibari, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.8K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Blade Drysdale Masterlist

"Quit your fucking moping and let's go out already," Eva groans looking at Kira and Blade. The boy is nearly face down in her lap as she pets his head. "So she cheated on you, big deal."

Kira shoots her a warning glance, "In my bed. In my fucking bed. With my best friend, and it wasn't the first time that it happened. It had been happening for months in my bed. She didn't even live there. He has his own room. That was..."

"They're fucking psychos. They wanted to hurt you Bladey. Want me and Evie to kill them?" Blade grouses, but shakes his head no.

"Good thing mommy and daddy could afford to get you out of that lease. Mommy would never want her sweet baby to feel uncomfortable," Kira gives her another glare before looking back down at Blade.

But he completely ignores the comment, "I was probably too...I don't know."

Eva rolls her eyes propping her foot on Blade's desk, "Maybe your pretty boy self thought you could just rely on your looks. Maybe she wanted to be fucked hard. Maybe she's a fucking bitch who should have broken up with your soft ass. God, this is ridiculous, give the boy a shot and I'll show you how good girls want to be treated."

"Evie...we can't do that. Blade is hurting," Kira's fingers pet over Blade's buzz cut hair, the short hair feeling almost like velvet on the pads of her fingers, and he grips her tighter.

"Oh come on. You're not curious how pretty boy fucks now? Didn't you two lose your virginity to each other? Started discovering things with each other? Bladey, let me give you a hint, she's learned a thing or two. She doesn't like it soft anymore. Would you at least want us to put on a show for you?"

"Ev! Sex doesn't solve everything."

"The best way to get over someone is to get under another. Bladey baby do you want two pussies to wet your dick and your body. Here's a secret, Kira's a squirter," Kira glares daggers at her, but Blade's firm grip turns softer. Eva watches his hand start to softly rub along Kira's thigh. "That's it Bladey, you smell how wet she's getting? Your face is right there. Turn around and bury yourself in that slutty cunt. She loves her fruit so she's the tastiest pussy."

Blade's hands roam a bit more on Kira's thigh, and his weight shifts, "She wants it baby. She tells me all the time about that pretty little cock. I bet you've grown since high school huh? You gonna split my pussy in half? I wanna know what that fucking cock can do."

"Do you ever fucking shut up?" Kira giggles at him, but he glares over at Eva.

"Show me you how to shut up, Bladey? I wanna choke on that cock of yours," spreading her legs even further apart she teases at her own entrance, "She's already wet thinking about you."

"God dammit you fucking crazy slut. Get on your fucking knees," Blade quickly turns to give Kira a soft kiss to her thigh, standing up to walk closer to Eva, "I didn't fucking stutter. Get on your knees so I can shut you the fuck up," the moment that Eva gets on her knees and starts crawling towards Blade, her eyes staring up at him with an almost innocent look, he feels a new sensation rush through his body. A pull for him to make her gag around his cock. A deep desire to destroy the mouth that's talking a bunch of shit until she can no longer speak.

Slowly Eva raises up a bit, her hand gliding over his jeans, and Blade grips her chin tightly, "I don't need your fucking teasing. You said you're a slut earlier. Show me how big of a slut you can be, and I'll let you ride my cock. You two are my sluts tonight."

"This is what I'm talking about Bladey. Just," he grips even tighter.

"I said shut up. I won't say it again. If I do, I'll make you watch me fuck Kira. Her sweet little mouth just hovering over your greedy little snatch, but she won't touch you, won't even get a taste."

Eva offers a sweet smile, but starts to take Blade out, gasping at his size and weight. Her thighs becoming even stickier thinking about sinking over him. Slowly she licks around his tip, using her tongue to spread around precum. Blade wasn't aware he could get this hard. Couldn't believe how talking down to the girl made him feel more in control. Made his brain stop raising with equations and numbers. His mind no longer thinking of the multiple scenarios in his head. His mind for once stopping all the noise. In this moment, he is the on in control.

Eva slowly takes as much of Blade as she can. Not even gagging when his tip touches the back of her throat, "You want more, don't cha? You gonna be my good girl?" she gives him a quick nod, holding onto the back of her head, he pushes her all the way until her nose hits his pelvis. Her eyes stare up at him, trying not to gag, but when he sees the tears in her eyes he pulls out, letting her choke around him as her lungs fill back up with oxygen. "You like that, hmm?" she nods going to sink back over him. "Fucking hell you're such a little slut. Key, come here baby. Need to feel how wet you're getting."

Kira walks over to Blade. He let's Eva control the motions on his dick. Still not going fast or hard. Her eyes full blown with lust, and just wanting this experience to last throughout the night. His hands go under Kira's skirt, growling when he comes in to contact with the cotton. "Take 'em off. Those and Eva's are mine," she slides them off of her, lifting her skirt up for Blade to roam her folds.

"Oh the bed. You," he pushes Eva off of him, tilting her up to look into his eyes. "I want you completely naked Key," he adds without removing his gaze from Eva, "You're going to watch me fuck her. Do you understand?" she gives him a sly smile and nods her head, tsking him when he walks away.

"Good girls answer with words Bladey."

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'm just trying to teach you. Want me to coach you through fucking sweet Kira senseless. Look at her," the two off them look at Kira, her ass in the air as she wiggles it around. "That weeping cunt wants you to split her in two. Want me to help you?"

"Fine."

"Uh-uh-uh. Ask me nicely Bladey. I might even let her suck my clit while you pound her into my cunt," Blade takes a big gulp, looking over to Kira. Her pussy dripping down her thighs, and he just wants to be buried in her warmth. "Come on Bladey. Don't you wanna feel how wet she is for that pretty dick?"

"Please teach me."

"First a condom," removing her own clothes she stands behind Blade, her hand grabbing the packet from him. "Let me help you, Bladey baby."

"Quit calling me that," he growls as she rolls the latex down his length. Her hard nipples pressing into his back.

"What? Making you think of mommy?"

"You fucking bitch," he spins around to look down at her. Without another word she shoves his face in her tits.

"You better quick acting like a prick if you want these pussies," her hand grabs at his and she shoves it on her neglected core. "You feel that. That is all for you. But you better behave. I got a new cunt right here for you. We'll put your notches at three."

He jerks back looking at her, "Key means more to me than an easy lay."

"Yeah, I know you self righteous asshole," grabbing ahold of both of his nipples, she gives him a little squeeze, "But we both know you want that giant cock of yours to fuck into her good. She feels better than your slut ex, doesn't she?" he nods giving a quick moan when Eva releases him. Her body going to lay on the bed, spreading her legs wide before she presses Kira's mouth onto her. "Ease into her big boy."

Blade places his knees on the bed, "Grip the shit out of those hips. I promise you can't break her," he takes a hold of her hips, slowly sliding through until he bottoms out. Her muffled moan on Eva's cunt makes her smile. "You'll need to grip her tighter. But before that. Put your hand on her stomach as you pump into her."

Blade's hand slides down, and he does a few calculated thrusts deep into Kira. Her voice whimpering into Eva, and he stares up at her. "That's that cock. You feel how deep you are baby," wrapping a handful of hair in her hands she pulls Kira off of her, "That cock feel better than daddy's baby?"

"What the fuck?" Blade asks pausing his movement.

Kira gives a pitiful little nod, pouting up at Eva, who let's her go back to tongue fucking her pussy. "Don't act like such a baby. It's what she calls me," her hands soothingly brush around Kira's face, "My sweet baby loves my cock doesn't she? Want me to fuck that tight little ass while Blade fills your pretty pussy."

"I want the ass," Blade gives her a smirk, this time properly gripping Kira's hips. "Key, you gonna let me fuck that tight hole of yours?" spitting down on her hole, his thumb teases the entrance. Blade doesn't get his answer, only the strangled wet muffles, but even Eva's body is rocking to Blade's pace.

"Fuck her face into my cunt. She likes it rough. Like make her not have to fucking work. Just you pushing her into me...FUCK! Like that baby," Eva leans back on the bed even more, her hands playing with her nipples when Blade nearly breaks Kira's back from pounding into her. "We're not made of glass, Bladey. Don't. Be a-fucking-fraid to murder our pussies. Just like that baby."

Unaware of what comes over him, Blade slaps hard on Kira's ass, eliciting a desperate mewl from his oldest friend. "Choke her."

"What?"

"Feel how that cunt throbs around you. Choke her, and lift her up. Listen to that little whine. You've got her in it. She trusts you, and will bend to your every need, won't cha fuck baby?" Kira nods up at Eva, "But if you fucking abuse that power while she's in that space, I will bite your balls off. Fucking lift her up by the neck. Still fucking her hard and deep, but your lips are kissing softly on that pretty neck."

Blade listens to the instructions; holding onto Kira as he lifts her up. His hips relentless pounding into her had and fast, Evie sits up, placing his fingers in the correct position, "We want to give her pleasure not kill her," assisting the pressure he has on her. His lips pepper softly against her neck, and her mouth goes slack. Unable to think, her body on auto pilot as she lets Blade work her into the most desirable orgasm. Screaming and clawing at his arms. "You like that don't cha baby? You gonna give daddy a chance to ride that pretty cock? Let me taste your cum on him?"

"Please daddy. Wanna see you cum too."

"You heard her baby boy. Lay down. Key, you watch daddy for a minute before riding his face okay, sweet baby?" she gives her a pitiful nod. Eva's body goes down to Blade's crotch, her ass sticking up in the air as she licks off Kira's cream. Moaning at her taste. Blade's hands can't stay off Kira. Those long thick fingers trace lightly over her skin, and he so badly wants a taste of her honey.

Eva is finished way too soon before she's straddling him. Grabbing him tightly at the base, running his tip along the split. "Beg for it baby. I haven't had much cock in my life," she gives him a devilish grin, "mostly just toys that Key fucks me with," Blade gives her a growl. "You could be an asshole. I do like that side of you. Degrade the shit out of me Bladey."

Blade bites at his lip, his teeth nearly bringing blood, and she nods at him. "You fucking bitch, you better ride my cock like your life depended on it or I'll make you watch me fuck Kira dumb," inch by inch Eva slides down his length. Her brows furrowed as she takes him. It wasn't just talk, she isn't as experienced with men as Kira, and Blade is no ordinary man. When he's fully sheathed, she whines at the stretch and fullness of him. Her hand rubbing at the bulge, and Blade slips into the Dom space he didn't know he had.

"You see how fucking deep I am. My little slutty cunt taking me so well. Stretched around my cock. You better ride me, or I'll make that cunt wish you had," Eva gives a tiny roll of her hips, "You can do better than that baby. Make me your slave with this tight cunt," his hands run up the expanse of her body, leaving a trail of chill bumps behind. Cupping her breasts he starts kneading them gently, seeing how she's struggling with his girth.

"You're doing such a good job sweet girl. Took all of me in one go. I know it's hard, but you're only whining because you want more. Now be a sweet girl and make me cum."

"Yes daddy," she whines, rolling her hips more on him. Whimpering with every thrust she makes.

"There's a good girl. You're doing so well. Such a good sweet little slut. Look at your daddy baby," he coos over to Kira. "look at how sweet she is riding my cock. Now you," grabbing Kira up he places her over his face, her body turned to look at Eva. "Ride my face while your daddy bounces on my dick."

The two of them work in tandem on Blade's body. Kira even leans forward to kitten lick Eva's clit. Stealing glances up at her bouncing tits. With her laying down on Blade he gets a full sight of the three of them working each other's body. The three literally becoming one as they're all tied together. Watching Eva's eyes roll back in her head as she cums hard on his cock, but doesn't slow. Not stopping until her cunt milks him dry. Her body focusing on his own release even as she falls apart, his own hands helping guide her. The three of them ending in a heaving panting mess when Blade fills up the the condom.

Kira's body rolls slumped over off him. Completely fucked and blissed out, while Eva is almost as cock drunk. Her walls seething and angry at the stretch, but also the loss of Blade's perfect cock when he throws the used latex away. He gives a soft look at Kira. While they may not be in love, they very much love each other. More than friends with benefits. Platonic soul mates that enjoy a good fucking. "She's perfect isn't she?" Eva asks as her hands smooth over Kira's skin. "Always take care of them after they're in this space. They need you to slowly bring them back. It's therapeutic getting to this point."

"What about you?" he asks crawling the bed. His own hands rubbing along her thighs.

"I'm fine. I only partially went there. It was mostly because of that giant ass cock. Damn, you must have got everything from your dad."

"That's gross."

"Seriously though, you did good. You can't be like that to everyone. Everyone's needs are different. And not every time you have sex do you need to get there. Some like it soft and slow and end with the dirty fucking. But not every time," Eva looks up at Blade, her smile serene from watching Kira, "I'm sorry about the girl. She doesn't deserve you."

"This is much safer. Just sex."

"That's fine. A little tip, you're from money, I know you're already being recruited thanks to Kira's dad. Be smart. You heard of a non-disclosure agreement?" he shakes his head no, "Get your lawyer to draw one up. If you want just sex be smart. Always a condom, always pull out before climaxing."

"But..."

"They can't place a pregnancy on you. They always need to sign the NDA, girls will try to ruin you Blade, you're too soft. Only show the one you care about your soft side. If it's just sex don't give that vulnerable side to them, they don't deserve it. You're a good guy. Kira talks highly of you," she gives him a nudge at his shoulder. "Now, if you really want us to teach you some stuff. I heard about the ropes you like. Shibari? That can be next lesson though."

Masterlist

[spideyspeaches]

Gorgeous ↬ b.b

A/N: Props to @thefallenbibliophilequote​ for getting me into bucky XD (fic lowkey based on Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous.)

Warnings: smut :) very smut and nudity.

MINORS DNI

WC: 2.5k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker & Reader (Platonic)

Masterlist || Taglist 

“Do you think he has a girlfriend?” You asked, sipping at the fairly bitter beer in your hand. Looking over your shoulder, you sighed, slumping on the counter of the bar you were in.  

You had been dragged along with your neighbour- Peter Parker, also known as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, to a club right after an Avengers mission. You were no avenger, just a run in the mill overworked and underpaid preschool teacher. 

It had become customary for you to tag along with him to bars with the other Avengers, after you had discovered about his spidery abilities. You had always been close to him, he was your brother in everything but blood. You were after all, his bonafide babysitter/best friend. 

The others in his team had accepted you with open arms, a weird bond forming between you and them, accepting you as more than "Peter's hot neighbour" and more like a part of their team. 

One particular person seemed to have caught your eye. 

Cranking your neck to see his slumped figure, you smirked at his back, eyes tracing his broad shoulders and newly buzz cut hair. You hadn’t talked to him much, but from when you had, you found him to be very sweet. He was shy, rarely spoke and always in his own shell, cheeks rosy pink whenever you conversed. So different from what the media portrayed him as that you found it utterly confusing that such a man could be brainwashed and used as a murder machine. 

Your heart ached for him, for how misunderstood he was among the antis. You just wanted to hug the man and give him one big forehead smooch. But, oh were you brought back to reality with a hit that you couldn’t really do that without looking creepy.

"Who? Bucky?" Peter smirked, interrupting you from looking at him. Your willed your heart to stop racing and plummeting in your stomach. 

“I thought his name was James?” You said, tilting your head in confusion. From what you had read in a source, his name was James Buchanan Barnes-

“Yeah but Steve calls him Bucky, so everyone does too.”

“Oh, Bucky. Has a nice ring to it.” You nodded, ignoring his smug expression, “answer my question though. I’m not gonna hit on him if he already has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” You grumbled the next part, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy you felt in your chest.

Peter had made it very apparent to you that he was fully aware of your humongous crush on the winter soldier. And that little shit never let go of it, even when you weren't anywhere near the vicinity of said winter soldier. 

"Why do you think I would know?" He scoffed, going back to sipping his own bottle of beer. Scowling at him, you opened your mouth, inhaling sharply. 

"I don't know, cause you practically live there?" You shrugged, trying to feign indifference. You knew he looked right through it, if his shit eating grin and flushed cheeks were anything if not confirmation. 

"Bold of you to assume he even talks to me. And anyway, he hates my guts, him and Sam always prank me, it's practically a routine." He said, rolling his eyes, swirling his bottle lazily, "why do you want to know that anyway?" 

"You know why." You hissed. Turning around, your breath hitched when you saw him staring at You, wondering if he was just staring at your general direction and if you were going to embarrass yourself by waving at him. 

Apparently he was looking at you, because you swore saw a tiny wave coming at your direction, a small smile playing on his face. 

“And what if he did?”

“What is it to you, kiddo?”

"You both disgust me. Bucky with his constant questions about you and you with your constant questions about him" Peter muttered sarcastically. Ignoring him, you sighed dreaming, slumping on the barstool, "don't you already have a boyfriend anyway?" 

“And what about him?” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at the mention of him. He was hardly a boyfriend, more of a fling, an excuse to stop the pain of being single (you were dramatic, you knew). You were over him, broken up not long ago, but Peter didn’t need to know that. You wouldn’t want Peter siccing himself at your worst enemies.

“What I know is that he’s one son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. Why are you dating him again?” Peter said, snapping you out of your daze.

“Do you kiss your girlfriend’s pussy with that mouth?” You scowled, huffing pettily.

“I’m sorry, who’s girlfriend’s what?” Tony said, appearing out of thin air, his mouth hung as he gaped at you and Peter. You snickered at Peter’s flushed and stuttering form, counting that as one win tonight. 

“My girlfriend’s lips. Y/N’s stuttering cause she’s too busy staring at Bucky.” Peter said, fixing you with a look, his head tilted adorably, jaw clenched like the way it did when he was done with your bullshit.

“Hey I’m not staring at him! He’s just so gorgeous- look at him!” You giggled, watching him stumble from his stool, the alcohol in your veins making you braver than before. You had endured more than one round of teasing from the team about your very obvious crush on one Bucky Barnes, yet you went on with your babbling.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve said what what- oh a million times before!” Peter shrieked, hands up in the air, nearly dropping his bottle. Snatching his bottle, you drowned the remaining liquid, dropping it on the counter with a scow, “are you even old enough to drink?”

“Hey! Let me tell you, I’m turning twenty one in a week, or did you forget?” He said, ignoring Tony, who was shaking his head and grumbling something about being too old for this shit.

“Of course I didn’t forget kiddo.” You said, smiling sadly at him, ruffling his messy brown hair. Ever since you met him, you always loved playing with his hair. They were fluffy, just like your cat’s, “Who allowed you to grow up so fast?” 

“Y/n/n! I’m only four years younger than you!”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” It still iffed you to no end that the boy who was once nine years younger than you was now 4 years younger, nevermind that he was mature much beyond his age. Mind briefly averted from one Winter Soldier, you didn’t notice him sit down next to you, startled when he called for you. You didn’t even notice Peter giving you a look before Tony dragged him somewhere.

“Hey, you’re Y/n right? Peter’s-” He started, your brain short circuiting when you saw his piercing blue eyes- the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen, staring at you, a small smirk playing on his stubbled jaw. You gulped internally, clearing your throat and sitting straight.

“Neighbour? Yes that’s me.” You nodded enthusiastically, smiling as much as you could without cringing at your ecstatic behaviour. 

“I know.”

“Cool.” 

Shuffling in your seat, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to speak before both of you were interrupted by your laughter. Getting yourself together, you gestured for him to talk, “go ahead.”

“So, should I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you let me buy you one.” 

And that’s how it started. One drink turned to another, and next thing you knew you were kissing him, his hands in your hair, the cold of his metal arm placed firmly on your bare waist as he bunched your t-shirt up in a fist.

For a moment you weren’t aware of your surroundings, the only thing you could feel was his t-shirt fisted in your hands, his freezing palm causing an eruption of goosebumps on your skin as the cold air of the room hit you full force. Panting, you scrambled for the door, holding his hands in the darkened room as you followed him blindly.

Crashing your lips to his once again, you moan under your breath, chest hitching as you scrambled for your shirt and bra, pulling it over your head as you watched him do the same, smirking at the very apparent bulge on his blue jeans. 

“Do you have a condom? You panted, tracing his biceps with your nails as you pulled him so that you were chest to chest, your nipples hardening as your bare chests made contact. You could feel your pussy throbbing, groaning at your already growing lady boner, the place between your thighs slick with wetness.

“In my pocket.” He answered, lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around him, throwing you on the bed with questionable stains. You moaned as he dropped his weight on you, his hands burning flames on your skin as he traced patterns on your bare arms, kissing you with a vigor. 

Your hands reached for his jeans pocket, fumbling to find the packet of condom while he traced his lips on your neck, nibbling at the curve of your shoulder, making you shudder with excitement.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Whatever you say doll.” 

Your stomach coiled when he called you that, groaning in pleasure as he roughed you up with his hands, his jeans sliding off, leaving his bare thighs barely visible to your eye. His eyes were somehow still illuminated in the dark room, leaving you even more wet than before. You never knew his eyes could turn you on so much that he made you come even before he could slide inside you.

Thrusting your hips, you watched impatiently as he slid the condom on his hardened dick, asking you for permission once more before sliding into you, his hips thumping with yours as he gradually increased his pace, hitting your spot.

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty under me. Perfect little wet pussy you got there doll.” He whispered, closing his eyes as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his back with one of your hands, nails digging into his flesh, unable to form any words.

“I’m close.” You moaned, rolling your hips with his as he continued to move, panting, one hand on the headboard and the other on your boobs, keeping you firmly planted on the shitty pub mattress as he kneaded the soft skin, the brush of his fingers on your pebbled nipple your last straw as you finally gave into your climax.

“You good?” He asked, his dick still inside you as you came all over him. Sliding out, you lay on the dirty sheets, your bare body shivering with the excessive hormones that took over you, realising that you had just fucked James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Yeah, I’m good, Great. Amazing. Wow I can’t believe this happened.” You said, holding the thin sheet up to your chest as you saw him in the dim lights. His chest was glistening with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead as you saw him discard the condom in a bin. Biting your lip, you tried not to stare at his bare ass, clenching your thighs. 

He gave you a friendly smirk when he caught you, thankful for the dark room, for you couldn’t stand him looking at your burning cheeks. 

“You know you can look right?” He smiled, holding your cheek in his cold palm, your own palms sweating as he straddled you, his frame encompassing yours as he towered over you, your thighs already pulsing, begging for a round two as-

“Oh, oh jesus you have nice fingers.” You giggled as he inserted his two fingers in your pulsing core, jerking your hips as he navigated through your slick folds. 

“It’s actually Bucky, but Jesus would do too.” He said, silencing you with another kiss. He gave a throaty growl as you kissed him harder, slicking back his hair with one hand, scratching at his scalp with your nails. Smirking under the kiss, you continued to do so until he increased his pace, your throbbing core giving in to the stimuli.

It was somehow easy for you to forget that the man you barely knew had made you come twice in the same night.

“Do you- do you want to go out sometime? Preferably without that Parker kid trailing behind you like a puppy?” Bucky huffed, ceasing his movement to look at you, your mouth open, wiping the smudged lipstick with a finger. 

“Aw he has good intentions.” You smiled, licking your lips teasingly as he rolled his eyes, “admit it he’s a good kid.”

“Are you really talking about Parker while I’m fingering you?”

“What? Ew. No, just, he thinks you hate him.” You giggled, shifting on the sheets a little to release your straining pelvis from cramping. 

“I don’t hate him, he’s a good kid, but he’s also a little shit at times.” He said, a fond look in his eyes. Your heart clenched at his expression, slowly pulling out of his grasp as you flopped on the bed, turning and looking at him. 

“He do be like that sometimes. But to answer your question, yes I would love to go on a date with you.” You smiled, burying your nose in his neck, not even caring that some drunk people might walk in on you two. No one had so far, so you didn’t really care.

To say that you were whipped would be an understatement. You started visiting the compound more often, came to movie nights, spent more time with everyone (especially him). 

“No!” You laughed, giggling as he picked you up bridal style, “Bucky! Jeez put me down right this instant or I’ll stick fridge magnets on you!”

You were instantly dropped on your feet, sighing when you felt his arms circle your waist, pulling your back to his chest. The tower was empty, everyone going back to their respective workplaces. It was only the two of you. You could hear him hum under his breath.

“Fridge magnet? Are they those sticky things that stick on fridges?”

“Yes Bucky, that’s exactly what they are. I thought they existed in the 20s?” You scoffed, turning around, falling on his firm chest. Circling your hands around his waist, you pondered at how close you had gotten with him in just a few days. Heck, every time you visited, it felt like you were just growing closer, until you felt your relationship tying in a tight knot. With a snap, you realised that your life might as well be in ruins was he not yours at this moment. 

“Only rich people had them.”

Maybe you were going overboard with your feelings, maybe you were rushing things, but you didn’t mind. Getting close to people wasn’t always your strongest suit, but with this man, you didn’t mind having silent conversations. Until you could feel his fingers on every inch of your being. 

With your heart thudding in your chest, you realised that you could spend your entire life tightening the knot of your heart with his, listen to him breathe as you laid by his bedside, play silly games with him. You were in love with this man.

“What are you thinking about?” He smiled, still swaying in your embrace.

“Nothing much.”

A/N: the ending is a little questionable but lemme know what you think! Requests are open! :)

[pan-fangirl-345]

Scars and Marks

Summary: You know who your soulmate is. Only problem. He has a girlfriend with the same mark as you. The school festival is going to change all that. Not that you know that just yet.

A/N: I have no idea where I was going with this. Let me know if you want a part two to this. I might write it anyway. How do I title? 

TW: Reader is slapped. Narcissistic behavior. Bakugou is a little OOC. Thought of cutting a mark off skin. Implied mental health issues. If I missed something, please let me know.

Here’s a link to the song I used for this. I don’t own the song, the lyrics, or anything about it.

You stared at the mark on your back in the mirror, frowning at it.

The Soul Mark had been black when it had first appeared when you were ten, but now it was almost gray. It was fading, and fast, but that was okay, it meant Bakugou was happier with her.

“Hey! (Y/F/N), we’re gonna play a game of Never Have I Ever, wanna join us?” Denki asked when you walked into the common room, practically vibrating next to Hitoshi.

“Um, sure, why not?” you murmured, sitting next to Eijirou, leaning on him a little.

“Hey! Bakubro! Do you wanna play Never Have I Ever with us?” Eijirou asked, making you jump a little bit. He was so loud!

“Why would I wanna do that?”

“Scared you’re gonna lose?” you teased, making him run red.

“I won’t lose!” he shouted, storming over to the circle, plopping down on your other side.

You continued to lean on Eiji, letting the warmth he radiated keep you from sharing too much.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Mina asked, devilish grin.

“Guess I will,” you offered. “Never have I ever punched someone in a a public setting.”

Denki, Hitoshi, Eiji, Bakugou, and the other boys all took a shot of sparkling cider, the closest thing they could get to alcohol as second years.

“We’re going clockwise right?” Mina asked.

“That makes the most sense,” Hitoshi muttered.

“I guess Bakugou is next,” Eiji said.

“Never have I ever accidentally used glitter instead of laundry detergent,” he said, glaring at Denki.

“I was high!” he defended, making everyone laugh.

Hitoshi gave his soulmate a small grin, something soft that reminded you of what you didn’t have.

You winced, looking away, burying yourself in Eiji’s side, letting him shield you.

“Never have I ever wanted to drink bleach out of a wine glass,” Uraraka said, glaring at you.

“If this were alcohol, I would think that you would be trying to get me drunk,” you told her, taking a shot.

People gave you some worried looks and you rolled your eyes. “I also wanted to pitch myself in front of a car. Seventh and eighth grade sucked for me. Izuku took a shot too you know!”

“Yeah, but that’s cause Bakugou was an ass when he was younger,” Denki said.

“You say that like he isn’t one now,” you said, wrinkling your nose teasingly.

“What did you say?” Bakugou snarled, turning to you.

“Is she wrong though?” Hitoshi asked, shooting you a look.

“No,” he grumbled, making you chuckle.

“I always knew you liked me Bakugou,” you teased, making him huff.

And so the game went, and it only had to pause once so you could throw Mineta out the window with Hanta’s tape, since he had somehow managed to sneak onto campus.

“I can see why you guys replaced him with me,” Hitoshi muttered when you sat down next to Eiji again.

“Never have I ever gotten rejected by my soulmate,” Kyouka said and you winced, taking a shot. “Oh, (Y/F/N), I’m so sorry! I forgot-”

“Kyouka, it’s fine,” you assured her trying to ignore the stares that you were getting from everyone else.

“Who the fuck would reject you?” Bakugou snapped, breaking the tense silence that had enveloped the group.

You, you thought miserably.

You and Bakugou weren’t friends, but you were friends with the other Bakusquad members. He tolerated you, but you had never spent any one-on-one time with your soulmate in the two years you had been going to school with him.

“(Y/F/N), why didn’t you tell us?” Denki asked, looking hurt.

“For one thing, I wasn’t technically rejected,” you admitted, toying with your hair, leaning further into Eiji. “I have my mark and everything still, even though it’s wicked faded, since they don’t really know what I am to them. It’s a really long story. Point is, I never told them, and they’re happier without me. I’m not what they want, and that’s okay, I like what we have now.”

“They don’t know? Then how do you know they’re happier without you?” Denki asked.

“Because they’re with someone else.”

Everyone fell silent, even the other people in the common room.

“How are you okay with that?” Izuku asked quietly, clutching Shouto’s hand tightly.

“I knew from the moment I met them that I wasn’t going to be it for them, you know? They were confident, and proud, and I just . . . wasn’t.” You glared down at your hands like they held the answers to your issues. 

“At first I thought we had one of those unbalanced bonds, but then we went in for the provisional licensing exams and they met someone with the same mark. I saw them together and then I realized something. We didn’t have an unbalanced bond. We didn’t have a bond at all!”

You smiled softly. 

“It made me happy, actually, not having to worry about it anymore. I mean, sure, I cried my eyes out for three days afterwards, but that kinda just faded away. They were happy, and I finally knew that I was romantically unlovable. I mean, I had always assumed, but it was good to know for sure, you know? I didn’t have to worry about whether it would be a problem or not.

“I saw her mark you know, when they showed her off for the first time,” you murmured. “It was the same as mine, and yet the way he looked at her, like she was the best thing to ever happen to him . . . I knew I had made the right decision to never tell him. I knew the moment I met her that I was never going to be that girl that tried to steal him.

“I wasn’t going to make him miserable by telling him, making him overthink the ‘what ifs?’. I wasn’t going to make him decide between the two of us. One, I knew who he would pick. And two, I knew that even if he didn’t pick me, he would think about what it would’ve been like.

“Besides, I love him, I wasn’t going to make his dream harder by being a part of his life.” You shrugged, then realized how much you had just talked.

Mina, Uraraka, Izuku, Kyouka, and Eiji were crying, Shouto was giving you an undetermined look, and for once, Bakugou was silent.

You also realized how much you had given away with your story.

“Guys, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad!” you said, waving your hands. “Why are you guys crying?”

Izuku launched himself at you, wrapping you in a hug. “Yo-You aren’t unlovable (Y/F/N)! Wh-Why would yo-you ever think-think that?” he sobbed.

“I mean, am I wrong? Have you guys seen me? I’m not exactly soulmate material.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou shouted, standing suddenly.

You looked up at him, curling around Izuku on instinct. You knew they didn’t have the best history, and while you trusted Bakugou not to hurt him under normal circumstances, he seemed pretty pissed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he yelled, pulling you up by the back of your shirt, making Izuku drop to the ground.

“Bakugou, calm down,” Eiji tried, also standing.

“I don’t get what you’re asking me,” you admitted as he set you down on your feet, smoothing out your shirt.

“Why the fuck are you so hard on yourself you idiot?”

“Because everyone else is too nice to tell me what I’m doing wrong. I have to be hard on myself because if I’m not, then no one will be.”

You stared into his crimson eyes, as they stared back into your own (Y/E/C) eyes. It was a battle of wills.

“I’m fine with who I am, I know who I am, not many people can say that. I know that my soulmate is happy, and I know that no matter what happens, I’m not ending his life.”

Then a question popped into your head.

“Why the fuck do you even care, Bakugou? We’re not even friends.”

“(Y/F/N), who told you that you and Bakugou weren’t friends?” Denki asked, standing up.

“I mean, I thought it was obvious,” you admitted, not breaking eye contact. He had beautiful eyes, they were the first thing you had noticed about him other than his shitty attitude.

He continued to stare you down, almost like he was searching your eyes for something.

“I can feel the sexual tension,” Shouto muttered, and Bakugou flushed.

“What the fuck did you just say you bastard? I have a fucking girlfriend,” Bakugou snarled, breaking the eye contact to turn to Shouto, who looked as stoic as ever.

You rolled your eyes, that small pang of pain deep in your stomach throbbing as you turned away from him.

Soon that would fade too, you told yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The festival was coming up again, and you were really looking forward to it. Mina was teaching you how to dance, Kyouka was coming up with new lyrics, and taking song suggestions.

On cleaning day you agreed to do a lot of the work so the others could do their thing.

“Try to tear us apart, but know that we’ll wear our scars,” you sang, throwing the trash outside. “Excuses, excuses that’s all that I hear, all that I see when I look in the mirror, I can’t escape all these thoughts in my head, they’re waiting to haunt me night after night, I feel it in my bones, and everything I know, it’s underneath my skin and it won’t let go-”

You stopped when you saw most of the class standing by the door, staring at you.

“H-How long have you guys been standing there?” you asked, cheeks heating as they stared at you.

“Hey, (Y/F/N), can I ask you something?” Kyouka asked.

“Shoot,” you muttered.

“Do you wanna be lead vocals?” Kyouka inquired.

“I don’t wanna take your spot though!” you told her, waving your hands.

“What’s that song, (Y/F/N)?” she replied.

“Um, Scars, by I Prevail. Why?”

“I love that song!” she cried, taking your hands in yours. “Will you do it? Please?”

“I mean, do you really want me to?” you inquired, watching her face.

“Yes!” the entire class shouted, making you jump back.

“I-I guess it wouldn’t be too much,” you agreed, fidgeting with your fingers. Singing wasn’t something you normally did in front of other people. It was the one small escape that you had been able to hold onto after you all had to move into the dorms.

Not many people even knew you could sing, you did it alone in your room.

“How well do you know that song?” Kyouka asked you as you walked back into the school dorms.

“Like the back of my hand,” you admitted. “I’ve been listening to it since I was twelve.”

“So if we randomly played the song you would be able to sing to it? Even the vocal changes?”

“Without a doubt, I was going to enter a talent show, but I chickened out because I sounded terrible. I’m surprised you guys liked it.”

“I don’t like to agree with Bakugou on much, but I agree with him on the fact that you’re too hard on yourself,” Shouto said, looking at you.

“Yeah (Y/F/N), you sounded amazing! How did you keep that from us?” Izuku asked, making you smile.

“I mean, I never thought I was good, but I hum sometimes,” you said, heading to the kitchen to finish up the dishes.

“Well, feel free to sing around the dorms, you sound really good!” Denki shouted.

“Thanks Denks,” you replied.

And so it went, you sang Scars around the dorms until everyone knew the lyrics, which was good for the backup singers.

You even caught Bakugou humming it to himself on the way to class one day. Though he was one of the back up singers since he could manipulate his voice the right way, so it was expected.

You had known Bakugou was your soulmate during the U.A entrance exams, he’d had his tattoo uncovered for the world to see, and you had known who he was immediately upon seeing it.

But while you had been working up the courage to tell him, you had seen what he was like.

He was everything you weren’t, and you had made your decision then and there that you weren’t going to tell him what you were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Momo, I have a small request,” you admitted to her. “The straps on this are a little tight, and I think it would look better without them.”

“Oh, you’re right! I’ll have that fixed in a jiffy!” she assured you, taking the dress you were going to wear for the performance.

You didn’t tend to like strapless dresses, you thought that they were a little sketchy, but you wanted to look good, and the straps cut into your skin something fierce.

Momo had it finished the day of the performance, and you barely had time to make sure it fit before it was your turn to perform.

When the lights came on they blinded you, but then the music started and you smiled, stepping out onto stage.

Your voice started out softly as you say the first line, “Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars.”

You let the music flow through your body, letting the beat vibrate through your blood as the routine made your body move on instinct.

Bakugou moved with you, and you two fell into a similar routine as you moved around the stage, dodging the people on instruments, just like the practice runs.

“Excuses, excuses are all that I hear All I can see when I look in the mirror I can't escape all these thoughts in my mind They're waiting to haunt me night after night I feel it in my bones, and everything I know It's underneath my skin, and it won't let go They know me all too well, but only time will tell If this is who I am, do I know myself?”

For the first time since the entrance exams, you forgot that Bakugou wasn’t yours. You forgot that were doomed to be alone for the rest of your life.

“Don't forget your life's your own, don't ever let it go.”

You thought of the people in your class that were making their life theirs. Of Shouto, who had never really known his family. Of Izuku, who was doing this because of him mom. Of Uraraka, who was trying to repay her parents. You let the emotions guide your voice through the lyrics.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are They can cut us, but we'll wear our scars.”

You thought of all the scars you had seen. Izuku’s from saving people and proving himself. Of Shouto, who would never forget how or why he had his. Of the new scars on you from training and pushing yourself. Of the mental scars that Bakugou would carry.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars, wear our scars.”

You thought of how people were slowly accepting their scars. How Izuku looked at his and saw the saved lives, the leaps and bounds of progress he had made. Of Shouto, who was proving that he wasn’t his father. Of Bakugou, who was learning that he couldn’t keep being an ass. And what did you think when you looked at your scars?

“Denial, denial is all that I've known Holding me hostage, I'm never alone Fighting for air, I'll fight to survive My soul's not for sale, I won't pay the price I feel it in my bones, and everything I know It's underneath my skin, but I won't let go.”

You had seen a lot of heroes that forgot what it was to be a hero. You had promised yourself that you weren’t going to be one of them. You had promised everyone you had saved that you were going to be a hero they could be proud of.

“Don't forget your life's your own, don't ever let it go.”

You were going to cling to your life, even if your soulmate was in love with someone else. You may not have had a soulmate that wanted you back, but maybe you could be friends. You could be okay with that.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are They can cut us, but we'll wear our scars.”

You knew who you were. You knew what you were going to be. Now the only thing you had to do was prove that you were serious about it.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars.”

Scars weren’t something to be ashamed of. Stretch marks showed growth, they told the story from childhood to adulthood, of changes made. Pregnancy stretch marks showed growth of a child, the purest thing in the world, untainted by society. Scars showed where you had been, they told your story.

“You can cut us up, but we will survive You had your chance, now it's our time to stand up and rise We will survive Right now, the tables turn We're gonna scream it out loud and let our voices be heard.”

You were part of a new generation of heroes, heroes who knew what it meant to be a hero. They knew how to learn from the mistakes of others. They knew what they were risking. They what they wanted to do.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are They can cut us, but we'll wear our scars.”

You and Bakugou were synced as the song started to end, only a few verses left. Your time with him was ending, and you let your voice be dictated by the emotions singing through your very being.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars.”

His eyes met yours as the final verse started, and you saw yourself reflected in his eyes, a version of yourself that you had only dreamed of. You saw the sweat formed from moving around each other so much. You saw the glow from the lights, the makeup, the joy of being on stage, of doing something you loved. You wonder if he had always looked at you like that, or if you’re emotions were just high because of what you were doing.

“I feel it in my bones, and everything I know I feel it in my bones, I feel it, I feel it I feel it in my heart when it all turns to dark Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars.”

There was a moment of silence as the echo died, when the last note faded, where it was just you and the others, the joy of accomplishment before the crowd erupted into a shout of happiness.

“Thank you all for coming!” you shouted into the mic, over the noise of the crowd, stepping away from Bakugou and the others, bowing.

Someone tossed a rose up to you and you smiled, taking it before backing up to the others, helping them clear the stage so the next act could take over.

“So, (Y/F/N), when were you going to tell us that Bakugou was your soulmate?” Eiji asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“That black mark on your back is a Soul Mark, and it’s the same as Kacchan’s,” Izuku said.

“What? It’s black? You’re sure?” you asked, running to the nearest mirror.

“Of course it’s black,” Denki said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because the last time I looked at it two weeks ago, it looked like this,” you replied, pulling up a photo of it on your phone. “It shouldn’t look like this.”

The pale gray made everyone wince and flinch towards their respective soulmates.

“It shouldn’t look like this,” you repeated, trying to get a good look at it.

“You didn’t tell me.”

You flinched as you caught a glimpse of Bakugou in the mirror.

“I already told my story,” you told him, turning away from the mirror to look at him.

There was some emotion on his face that you had never seen before.

“Katsuki!” his girlfriend cried, throwing herself into his arms.

You backed away, hoping to be able to get away from the awkward situation, but then he spoke up.

“You didn’t tell me our Soul Marks matched!” he yelled, practically tossing his girlfriend to the side.

“What?” she snapped, looking bewildered.

“It’s nothing,” you assured her, holding your hands up.

“It sounds like you’re trying to steal my soulmate,” she snarled.

“I’m not. If I was I would’ve told him the moment I found out we were soulmates. He’s happy with you,” you told her with a shrug, turning away.

“You aren’t going anywhere until you talk to me,” Bakugou shouted, running to latch onto your wrist.

“Bakugou, let me go. I’m not going to be a homewrecker. I’m not making you miserable.”

“I’m already miserable,” he snapped, then glanced back at his girlfriend.

“Oh shit,” someone muttered.

“You know what?” you snapped. “Fine, fine, if you wanna have this conversation now, whatever. But I’m moving this somewhere private.”

You ripped your wrist out of his grip, storming back to the dorms.

“Will someone explain why this nobody is trying to steal my man?” his girlfriend asked, her eyes blazing.

“I’m not trying to steal your man,” you told her. “He just saw the mark and freaked out about it.”

“I ‘freaked out about it’ because you’re my soulmate and you never told me!” he shouted.

“But Katsuki, I’m the one with the mark,” his girlfriend protested, positioning herself between him and you. “Are you sure hers isn’t a fake? She might be trying to trick you.”

“It’s the real thing, this is what it looked like a few weeks ago,” you said, showing her the photo.

“Pity then.”

“Do you want to touch it? Call in a fucking expert?” you snapped, loosing your patience with her.

“Shut up,” Bakugou snarled to her, then turned to you. “Explain this to me, (Y/F/N), because I can’t figure it out.”

As you re-explained everything, his girlfriend scoffed, rolling her eyes.

She clearly didn’t buy it.

“Likely sob story,” she said, baring her teeth at you. “I’m the only one that’s worthy of Katsuki. And he’s the only one worthy of me. You’re nobody.”

“I know that I’m nobody,” you snapped at her, wincing at your own tone of voice. “That’s why I never planned on telling him!”

“Never?” Bakugou asked, voice quieter than you had ever heard it.

“Never,” you repeated.

The joy from earlier was gone, replaced only by stress, a bone deep tired, and the deep ache in your stomach as you stood there.

“I deserve to have the future number one hero!” his girlfriend yelled, some inner leash she had kept on herself snapping. “I deserve to have him all to myself! The whole reason I stole your mark in the first place was to have the best! If he questions everything this easily then I deserve better!”

You flinched as she took those few steps to slap you, your head rearing back in shock.

“What do you mean you stole my mark?” you asked, hand cupping your cheek.

“I was behind you at the entrance exams,” she snarled, a wild gleam in her eyes. “I could see the mark peeking out of your costume and figured out who Katsuki was to you. So I stole your mark.”

“How? Soul Marks are one of a kind, unique to your soulmate,” you reminded her.

“It’s my quirk,” she snapped, like it should’ve been obvious.

“Her quirk is a lot like Toga’s,” Bakugou explained, moving to step between the two of you. “She can copy an appearance if she touches the original person.”

You stared at the girl in front of you. She had seemed so sincere when you had first met her, so . . . perfect.

“I think it’s time you left,” Hitoshi said, appearing behind her.

“What did you say to me?” she asked.

“I think it’s time you left.”

“Villain,” she hissed.

“Hey, you can’t talk to him like that. He’s more of a hero than you’ll ever be,” you shouted, getting in her face, your cheek still stinging from where she had hit you.

“What did you call me?” Hitoshi asked.

“A vil-” 

Her voice died as she was brought under his control.

“Go to Aizawa, explain in detail what you did to both Bakugou and (Y/F/N), and tell the truth. Don’t touch either of them ever again,” he ordered, sending her away.

“Are you guys okay?” Denki asked, running over with the others.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m so sorry.”

Before anyone could get to you, you were inside the building, running for your room.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be something everyone enjoyed together.

You ignored the calls of your name, ignored the footsteps of the person following you.

You slammed your door, unzipping the dress, throwing as far away from yourself as you could, throwing on a the biggest shirt you had, then the biggest hoodie. You felt the need to cover everything.

For the first time in your life, you wanted to skin the mark off your shoulder blade. You wanted to take a knife and rip the mark off.

“(Y/F/N), can we come in?” Izuku asked, tapping on your door lightly.

“No,” you called, curling up on your bed, tears streaming down your face.

“(Y/F/N), are you okay?” Shouto inquired.

“No.”

You headed for the only mirror in your room, washing the makeup off.

“Go away guys!” you yelled when someone else knocked on your door. “I’m not okay and I just need to be alone.”

“I need to talk to you,” Bakugou said, barely loud enough for you to hear him.

“Why? I’m sorry I pretty much ruined your relationship, but you were the one that wanted to talk to me about it!”

“Please, just let me in,” he begged.

You sighed, not bothering to stop the tears as you opened your door.

“I’m sorry she hit you,” he murmured, touching your face lightly. “I didn’t know she was like that.”

“It’s not your fault. I should’ve made sure the mark was actually gone before I made changes to the dress.”

“You were really never going to tell me?”

He was different. He had changed since your first year, but this was different than even second year Bakugou.

He seemed hurt by the fact that you weren’t going to tell him. He seemed uncomfortable.

“Look, we’re soulmates? So what? You can walk away right now Bakugou and I won’t say anything. I . . . I don’t want to make you miserable. I just . . . if you’re happy, that’s good enough for me.”

“What if you make me happy?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t make-”

“You do make me happy,” he interrupted. “Do you think that . . . do you think it’s possible for me to make you happy?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I spent so long avoiding you that I just assumed I would make you feel frustrated.”

“Frustrated?”

“Does crestfallen work better? Depressed? Malcontent perhaps.”

“I never felt anything with her,” he blurted. “I thought that might change with time but . . . she never made me laugh. My mother hated her from the minute I brought her home. I think my mom would like you.”

This was dangerous ground.

No. This was honesty.

“Your mom is important to you, isn’t she?” you asked, sitting on your bed, scooting back until your back hit the headboard. You gestured for him to sit with you, and he sat at the end of the bed, leaning against the wall.

He nodded, glancing at you.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

“Alright, how about this?” you started. “Next time we get a chance, you take me to meet your parents and if they like me we give this a shot. If not, we walk away, no hard feelings.”

He nodded again, watching you.

“Alright.”

“So you were really never gonna tell me.”

“Bakugou!”

[rwac96]

Trust Me... (A Dragon Ball AU)

Chapter 3: A rocky start

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

"You have got to be kidding me," a blonde woman with blue eyes said, her arms folded over her bust as she eyes Shallot from head to toe. "First, these strange waves, then the clone fighters, next Android Sixteen," the woman's tone raised in a mixture of rage and alarm. "who should be long dead, then that weird woman and now a random Saiyan?"

The spiky-haired warrior blinks when the woman, Android Eighteen, finished her rant; as it seems that she is not really eager or happy about the situation. Shallot moves his right hand to the back of his neck, scratching at it. He stood in front of the blonde, who was sending a cold glare at him. A few feet from her is a black-haired man, who shared some of Eighteen's facial features. He didn't exactly give the Saiyan a scowl, but his gaze was a look of suspicion. The trio stood in what looked like the same training facility he saw earlier on the monitor. It definitely looked like it has seen better days. Scorch marks litter the floor, walls, and ceilings and multiple fist-shaped holes can be seen all around.

"Hey," Shallot spoke up, grimacing. "I just got here, Eighteen, right?" The woman nods, "Like I said, I just got here, I don't remember much about myself, and from what Twenty-One told me, the planet's in danger."

"And you instantly took her word," the ebony-haired man, Android Seventeen, speaks up. "Hmm, she certainly picked a naive one."

"Naive?!" The Saiyan furrows his brows, his onyx eyes turning to the ascot-wearing cyborg, "Hey! I just woke up, you prick!"

"Don't," Eighteen shoves Shallot back, "call my brother a prick, you moron. Besides, he's bringing up a legitimate concern. As I said before, Sixteen was dead."

The Saiyan blinks when those words left her lips, his eyebrows creasing slightly. "I mean, he's...well, different from others. He can be rebuilt."

The blonde let out an exasperated, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh, my God, you're barely listening." Eighteen moves her hand from her face, "Look, doesn't this seem all...convenient to you?"

Shallot's tail sways slowly behind his legs, while he purses his lips in thought. "I mean, this is pretty damn bizarre, in all honesty. For me, being on an alien planet with no idea how I got here. For you, being confronted by your supposed dead friend and a weird lady."

"Sixteen was like a brother to the both of us," Seventeen speaks up once more, approaching the two to stand next to his twin sister. "then, all of a sudden, when everything goes to Hell due to these clones, he suddenly appears and takes us from our families."

"Wait?" The black-tailed man's eyebrows raise in alarm, "What?! Neither of them mentioned that!"

"All the more reason you should take everything they're saying," Eighteen says to Shallot, "with a grain of salt."

"I...I guess," he says with a shrug of his shoulders, "but at the same time, if I wasn't found by Sixteen, one of those Clone Fighters would've killed me."

"Or you could've been found by my husband and the others," the blonde points out to the young Saiyan, "regardless," she says with a sigh. "you're here, and no point in pondering on what ifs."

"Uh-Huh," Shallot replies with a roll of his eyes, "look, if we're gonna stand a chance against these Clones, I'm gonna hafta be up to snuff."

"Well," Seventeen cracks his knuckles, "it has been a while since I've had an actual fight."

Eighteen raises her brows slightly at her brother's apparent eagerness, letting out a groan of annoyance. "Typical," she says, placing her hands on her hips.

"Says the woman wearing a denim skirt and vest fitting for a young woman," her brother replies, "and not a married woman with a daughter."

"You're one to talk," the blonde says in return, as the pair gets into their perspective fighting stance.

Shallot watched this small sibling spat, making him chuckle at this exchange. As if it brought comfort to the Saiyan, a comfort he would know as if he himself had a sibling.

"C'mon, brother, are you taking your training seriously?"

"I am, Giblet! I'm learning all I can from Hanasia!"

"Are you certain it's fighting and not mating, Shallot~?"

"Shut up and fight--!"

Then the spiky-haired man is met with a punch to his stomach, grimacing as he eyes Seventeen; who drove his fist into his abdomen. A part of him felt rather embarrassed by letting himself get distracted by his thoughts, which seemed like...a memory? Shallot skids back from the black-haired cyborg then step forward and give a punch in return; striking Seventeen in the chest. He then shifts his head to see Eighteen charging to his left and is then struck by a spinning kick performed by the blonde. The blue, leather armor-wearing Saiyan is flung from the twin Androids, but manages to land on his feet.

*THE RED RIBBON MONITORING CENTER*

"A rocky start," Sixteen says as he and Twenty-One watch over the training bout between Shallot, Seventeen, and Eighteen. "though, it seems he remembers how to fight."

"Interesting," the auburn-haired woman says, as she sits down in the rotating chair while the mecha-type Android stands next to her. "he seemed to have spaced out for a bit, but quickly recovered. A memory flash?" She turns to the mohawk-haired man, who turns his head to face her.

"Perhaps," he responded in his usual monotone voice, "though, it proves that he is capable." He turns his attention back to the monitor, seeing Shallot blocking the twins from attacking him at the same time with a flurry of fists.

"Yes," she places her right hand underneath her chin, lightly stroking it. "though, is the Linking System assisting in not only strengthening Shallot, but helping him recover from his amnesia? This should be noted for further stud--GAH!!" Suddenly, Twenty-One clutches at her bosom with both hands, slipping out of the chair and onto the floor.

Android Sixteen steps forward the scientist in alarm, an actual emotion aside from his stoic stare. "Twenty-One!" He says in concern, the tone of his voice has notably risen.

"D-Dammit," the woman says through gritted teeth, "I...I need more time." She slowly begins to get onto her feet, "Dammit all I need more time," her eyebrows crease in fear and concern, "or else...I won't...I won't stop."

*TRAINING FACILITY*

"Huh?!" The Saiyan blinks as he was sent flying back once more by Eighteen's two-footed kick to the chest, the pain not registering to him or the fact that he was falling down to the ground. It seems that Shallot had gotten distracted once more, but not by a memory flash; as if he had heard someone from outside the room. "You two notice that?"

"Notice what?" Eighteen inquires to the young fighter, her brother standing next to her as he dusts off his clothes; which had gotten some dirt due to the sparring.

"I...I can't really explain it," he says as he rises to his feet, "a...small explosion?" The spiky-haired man says with a grimace, not fully comprehending the sensation.

"Oh," Seventeen says with realization, "you must've sensed someone's energy...or Ki, as Krillin describes it."

"Energy, huh?" Shallot blinks for a minute or two, nodding his head lightly. "Wait?! You two didn't sense that!?"

"We...didn't," Eighteen answers him, "Seventeen and I can manipulate energy, but we can't sense it."

"Damn," the Saiyan comments, folding his arms over his chest. "that's something."

"The only Androids who can sense Energy is Sixteen," Seventeen explains to Shallot, "and...well, Cell. But that monster's dead."

"Cell?" Shallot inquires with a raise of one of his eyebrows, "Who the hell's Cell?"

"It's," the blonde says with a visible shudder and exhale, "a long, long and horrible story."

*ELSEWHERE...28 KS Point 5*

"So, they brought you back as well?"

In the center of the wasteland, where the dreaded Cell Games took place years ago, stands the green, winged monster that nearly succeeded in destroying Earth. Cell, turns to what looks like a small, slightly scrawny male with a tail. White flesh, violet bio gems on certain parts of his body; most notably the top of his head. This being, Frieza stood behind the bio-android with a smirk on his face.

"Yes," Cell says to the cosmic tyrant, "but, for what purpose, I don't know."

"Well," Frieza says with a small chuckle, "my men, those of the Trade Planet Organization of Frieza Force, whatever you prefer, have gathered information concerning our...resurrection. Information that is interesting...to the both of us."